Words.

2011-11-24T22:28:00.001-08:00

Word 40,000: "five"

#NaNoWriMo

2011-10-29T18:28:00.000-07:00

However, I did come across this quote from Zhuangzi:

The purpose of a fish trap is to catch fish, and when the fish are caught the trap is forgotten.
The purpose of a rabbit snare is to catch rabbits. When the rabbits are caught, the snare is forgotten.
The purpose of the word is to convey ideas. When the ideas are grasped, the words are forgotten.
Where can I find a man who has forgotten words? He is the one I would like to talk to.

(Just found this in my drafts. I don't know why. But here it is for you.)

Advice from another time

2011-08-14T11:30:00.000-07:00

I had this dream a few weeks ago, this is my morning journal entry after having woken up and writing it all down.

I just woke from a dream that had my Granny & Granddaddy in it. We were in a school. I ran from one end of the school to the other to reach them. Through hallways and gymnasiums. I finally reached them in a room where they were standing with my Mom. Everyone was dressed up, like for church or something. Mom was the same age as she is now, and Granny & Granddaddy were the ages I remember them. He was wearing a fedora.

They were getting ready to cross a bridge of some sort and enter another room. We stepped aside to some folding chairs and they sat down. I got on my knees in front of him and folded my arms across his knees. I was in tears. He told me he was going to give me some advice. He told me to just sit. Through my tears, I told him I was listening. He said that was it, that his advice was to sit and enjoy life.

The Wrong Way.

2011-07-24T12:26:00.000-07:00

So, alcohol.

I've had an interesting relationship with the world's favorite drug. I can't say it's always been a good relationship.

I think I've been kidding myself about it for a while though, that I either didn't have a problem or that I could handle it. Sunday July 10th clearly showed me that I do have a problem, and I can't handle it.

What I'd like to eventually explore is what it is that I was looking for in drinking, and especially drinking to excess.

Looking back, I started drinking because I was curious. My parents drank and had parties, and my friends and I started by sneaking some Michelob beers and hiding them in the forest behind my house. When we got around to drinking them, they were more or less frozen, so we drank our beer slushies and got a little tipsy, I guess. Being in a small mountain town, drinking beer just seemed the thing to do. (Until wine coolers came along. Then we all found out what a sugar hangover felt like and went back to beer.)

I drank beer pretty much exclusively through college and beyond. I suppose drinking was a way to cut loose a little, lower the social inhibitions. Why I needed to lower my social inhibitions around a bunch of my guy friends whom I'd known for years, I'm not sure, but we did. A lot.

The first time I knew I had a problem was when my girlfriend asked me why, after I came home at 2am from my shift at the billiard parlor, I felt the need to drink a 6 pack of beer. I told her that I needed to relax & unwind. That was the fastest way for me to go to sleep. I don't think I told her very often that I sometimes had a 20 oz beer after closing, before leaving work. One? Sometimes two. Almost never three.

I could see she had a point, though, so I cut down considerably. That is, until I had a panic attack in the summer of '92. Then I cut out drinking completely for a while. A couple of years, maybe. I needed to get control of my emotions and figure out what was going on in my head that was causing my panic attacks. Looking back, it could have been that my body was reacting to the onset of my ulcerative colitis, which manifested itself over a couple of years. It also could have been the fact that I was exhausted by the summer, as my chiropractor pointed out. Incessant traveling, a good bit of drinking, a little drugs, and my body may have just said "Ho-o-old on there, tiger. Slow down."

I started drinking again when I was in my band Tucker in 1994. First a beer here or there, not a lot. I got married the year after that and was drinking a bit more, I guess. It was when we bought our house in '96 that I felt a bit more emboldened to drink alone at home. I was a homeowner! Isn't that what people who own their houses do? Sit around and drink a 6 pack of beer (making sure to have 6 more, just in case) in their house?

My wife has never been much of a drinker, to her credit and my health. I'm not sure when she first observed that I could never drink just one, though. If I had one, I had two, then the 6 pack (I tended to drink "good" beers that typically came in 6ers, I wasn't buying & drinking a 12 pack of shitty cans). I knew in the recesses of my soul that she was right, though.

In 2004, I began a strict diet to help with my ulcerative colitis, cutting out refined sugars, starches, uncultured dairy and, lastly, grains. So much for drinking beer. Wine was allowed, however, as were spirits. It took a couple of years, but I finally started drinking some wine, and also developed a taste for Bushmills on the rocks.

The past few years leading up to 2011 I have gotten more into wine, fancying myself a wine drinker. "Former beer snob, now becoming a wine snob" or something like that. I also would turn to spirits if there wasn't enough wine around. Whiskey on wine/wine on whiskey - didn't matter.

The Tipp(l)ing Point

In 2008, I started meditating & getting into Buddhism in general. The ideas had always appealed to me, and I have a good friend who is Buddhist, so that made it more accessible. I began listening to podcasts and all of it made so much sense. It still does.

Like many ancient religions, things are organized into lists, because lists are easier for people to remember when they haven't invented a system of writing yet. One of the lists in Buddhism is called The Five Precepts. They are as follows (with my clumsy commentary afterward - there is *much* more to the precepts than this, I'm just trying to give a basic idea of their meaning):

1.    I undertake the training rule to abstain from taking life. (In very simplistic terms, this means no killing. Ok, check.)
2.    I undertake the training rule to abstain from taking what is not given. (In very simplistic terms, this means no stealing. Check.)
3.    I undertake the training rule to abstain from sexual misconduct. (In not simplistic terms, this means what it says. Faithfully married, check.)
4.    I undertake the training rule to abstain from false speech. (In very simplistic terms, this means no lying. Check. I really do try to adhere to this one.)
5.    I undertake the training rule to abstain from fermented drink that causes heedlessness. (Easy. No alcohol. Wait, what?)

So, I do my best to adhere to these. My friend wrote about these and other precepts much more eloquently here. All of these I didn't have a problem with, except #5 obviously. The thing is, when I read these, I knew that someday I'd give up drinking. I didn't know when, but I knew that my drinking caused people other than myself suffering. I didn't really get hangovers, not like I used to when I drank beer, the headaches and all. I'd like to point out that my drinking never caused me to miss work. I didn't drink much on weekdays, because I knew I had responsibilities that getting drunk would get in the way of. I had also driven drunk a few times, but my wife set me straight on that by pointing out that if something happened to me, I would be letting my family down (being dead is definitely letting them down), and that didn't sit well with me. Because the last time I drove drunk, I was pretty drunk. So, recently, I'd arrange for a driver, or she would drive, or I would stay wherever I was for a few hours longer.

This year, there have been at least three times that I've gotten drunk and ended up being sick. Reverse drinking, as it were. July 10th was one of those. Once was at my sister-in-law's house. I forget when the other time was. Two times were at my parent's house.

What I did was, I was looking for reasons to drink. Any special occasion. Any time we went to my parent's house. Anything. And any occasion started to become a special occasion. I would look forward to weekend nights that I didn't have anything going on that night or the next day.

Recently I won an online contest that provided money to throw a party. I arranged for a caterer and then set about buying the alcohol. I bought a couple of cases of wine, and I asked some friends for recommendations on good spirits to buy. I wanted top-shelf stuff. I've never had more than whiskey, mostly - not a big vodka drinker, or gin, or tequila. Actually, mostly what I would drink (if not red wine) was coconut rum & pineapple juice. But, as mentioned before, Bushmills was my spirit. After all, it was Irish and I am too (my last name is, somewhat, at least). I wanted to go beyond Bushmills and purchased 5 or so bottles of spirits for the party. A party where there would be maybe 10 couples and a bunch of kids running around. My wife called me out on it, wondering why I needed so much alcohol. I told her I wanted to have nice stuff for the people. I didn't throw half-assed parties. Some excuse like that. In truth, she was right. I was buying to "stock up," overbuying for the party, knowing that there would be plenty left for me to consume in the months to come.

The weekend of the party came and I drank so much the night before that I didn't feel like drinking much the day of the party. I had a few drinks, tasting from many of the bottles that I had bought. I shared and enjoyed the spirits and wine with my friends and my parent's & sister's friends. Everyone had a great time. We went to a bar that night to watch a band play and I was supposed to be meeting some people there, possibly. I got in and bought a drink - something I wouldn't normally do, because I typically don't have the money - but my dad had stuffed some change in my pocket for the cover charge. My wife and I were discussing her surprise at me having bought that drink and I told her "I just wanted to have something in my hand in case I saw someone." "That's dumb," she said. I was irritated by that and it soured my mood for the rest of the night, which didn't last too long, because I was tired from the long day. I couldn't believe she had called me dumb over just one drink.

"Consuming" for me meant getting drunk, though. I have a pretty extensive group of online friends who drink and write a bit about it. I never would write too much online when I was drunk, at least, I wouldn't let on that I was drunk.

Again, weeks would go by where I didn't touch a drop. But when I drank, I would drink to get drunk. There seemed a thrill of it. At times I would hide it from my wife a bit, knowing that she disapproved that I drank so much.

Then came July 10th.

We were up at my parent's house again. I had had a lot to drink the night before, again. I was out golfing with my dad and brother-in-law. We were set to only play 9 holes, and we did. Around hole 8 the cart with the drinks on it came by, and I got a Jameson's. It was a generous pour.

I don't know why I ordered a drink. I just felt that I should. I was going to be driving home later that day, and I could have a drink now & be fine to drive in 6 hours time.

I drank it quickly on the last couple of holes and on the drive home. I still had the cup with some ice, so I added more ice and went to the pantry and poured a little Bushmills in there. Just to top it off and have a good buzz for the afternoon. The afternoon of sitting in the sun with my family, parents and aunt.

I snuck back in for a couple more drinks, each time pouring them in the privacy of the cupboard. I didn't have much to eat that day aside from the big breakfast before we went out for golf, and a few handfuls of nuts in the pantry. Oh, and cherries. My daughter and mom, aunt and wife were all in the kitchen cooking dinner for that night, we were going to have another big meal.

I don't recall much after that until I was getting sick. Lying on the floor of the bathroom in the basement, then the upstairs bathroom. I got sick upstairs and was horrified at the red liquid coming out of my mouth. I panicked that I was throwing up blood (and very well may have been), but upon inspection I realized that it was cherries, at least for the most part.

After getting sick and feeling like I could survive the drive home, I began the task of stumbling around, making sure I had everything that I needed - my work laptop & phone, the food & dishes I had brought up, that sort of thing. The drive home was pretty frosty. I got home and paid some bills after putting away the food we had brought home. I felt like I had let some people down - my daughter, my wife. I couldn't believe I drank so much. For no reason.

There was one memory that came back to me from that day, however, and it's the memory that disturbs me even now. I was standing in the kitchen, drinking deeply from a bottle of wine that had been opened the night before. No glass, from the bottle.

That memory scares me.

Despite all the whiskey that I had that day, despite how drunk I was, there was something in me that was saying it wasn't enough. There was something in me that felt the need to grab the bottle, remove the stopper and swig from it, in front of everyone.

I don't know what drove that. I still don't.

Enough was clearly not enough.

"Insatiable" in the thesaurus has many synonyms, the most apt one being "unquenchable." In drinking alcohol, I was going about it the wrong way. I wasn't drinking to have fun, or to loosen up, or as a beverage with dinner. I was drinking to get drunk.

In 2004, I went on a strict diet for my colitis, to see if it would help. When I saw the results in about 2 weeks, I was amazed. I have never gone back to eating the way I did before, hardly a crumb of any of the unallowed items have passed my lips in over 7 years. It was as if a switch had been turned off. Once I saw the results (which have stayed to varying degrees), I was done with those foods. People have asked if it's difficult, because donuts just taste *so good*. Yeah, they do. And they would send my digestive system around the bend. So I don't. Swich: off.

That's similar to when I stopped drinking after my panic attacks. I needed to get ahold of my mind. Drinking wouldn't help that. Switch: off.

When that memory broke through the fog later that night of July 10th, I knew. I knew that as much as I liked drinking, I was done. Now, I never say "never", I don't have a crystal ball. I don't call myself an alcoholic, although plenty of people will. I don't identify myself by the things I am, nor by the things I am not. But I knew that the time had come to adhere to the Fifth Precept. To end my suffering, and to end the suffering of the people around me. My wife told me that she was telling my sister that I was passed out on the bathroom floor. My daughter, standing behind my wife, said "Again?"

That is a painful thing for a father to hear.

I apologized to my daughter that night and told her I was done. I told my wife I was done the next day. I have caused them worry. I have made my wife angry. Whatever might be in my mind that needs pickling, it's not anything that is more important that my family, or my marriage.

In my life, I have tried to understand what it is that keeps people returning to their vices, whether it's cigarettes or food or drugs. Or alcohol. I've always felt superior to those people, that I couldn't be trapped by some outside "thing." Why can't they just stop if they know it's bad for them? If it's killing them? If it's going to kill them? Why are they so weak?

I don't know what was in my mind, urging me to drink. I will continue to look at that.

I'm better than that, though. I'm stronger than that. I will not let my life be ruled or controlled by something inanimate. By a liquid. By a drug within the liquid.

My body and my mind make the rules. My body and my mind make the decisions.

On July 10th, my body and my mind stopped drinking.

How to Shift a Paradigm

2011-07-09T16:13:00.001-07:00

I've had video chats with friends before. They've been kind of a pain in the ass, mostly because you're either looking for people with the same kind of computer & software (to use iChat) or you're trying to find someone who's online & ready to chat.

Google has changed all that by changing the term.

I've been on Google+ for a week or so now and I've seen that they have something called a "hangout", which is just a video chat room. Someone's status will read "So-and-so is hanging out", and, if I'm in their circle, I can drop in and "hang out".

Last night, I was on an iPad 2 on Google+ and saw that a friend was "hanging out". I tried to hang out on my iPad, but it said it wasn't supported on my device. I posted as much and my friend said "go get on your iMac", so I went downstairs and, seeing that I had some muffins to make, decided to get on my MacBook Pro and see what my friend was up to.

I logged on and there were three people there who I have known online for years, and something interesting happened. As I made the muffins, I was able to just talk and get my stuff done, and it was like my friends were in my house with me. We were laughing and joking, one guy was playing guitar, and we were just - hanging out.

There's a main video window that seems to change so the person talking is in the big window. When there's a lot of sound and people this gets pretty crazy, but if you've got 5 or so people, it's ok. You can also click on a person and their window stays on the main window.

And it occurred to me that it's a pretty cool thing, and a large part of it is just the name. Would you rather hang out with friends, or "Skype" them? Or "Facebook video chat" them? Or iChat them?

Hanging out sounds right, and it feels right.

And that's how you shift a paradigm. People are going to start using this regularly, and it's all because of the name & implementation.

"What geeky pursuits did dad inspire you to discover?"

2011-06-17T11:22:00.000-07:00

So asketh TechRepublic.

I can probably honestly say: All of them. I don't know why he wanted to buy us a computer back in the early 80's. I know that I used to go play Temple of Apshai on my friend Robert Dickert's Apple ][ in that same timeframe. We were friends in 4th/5th grade I think? So that would have been 1980 or so.

For some reason, my dad got interested in computers around that time. We had an Apple ][e (IIRC) with a floppy drive - maybe two - and a green monitor, if memory serves. My favorite game in 9th grade was Karateka. I remember playing that constantly. I also remember being online quite a bit with CompuServe. I'm sure our modem was 300 baud. My first "online friends" were made there. I recall chatting with screen names that reflected my interests of the day: "Sinful" from Pete Wylie's album of the same name and "Colossus", from the X-Men. Those two came later in high school, actually. And for some reason, I didn't recognise at the time the sexual connotations of the names. Or I did, but wasn't overly concerned with it.

I fondly recall going computer shopping with my dad and looking at the new Osborne "portable" computer and thinking how cool that was - a computer you could fold up and take with you!

I don't recall my father spending as much time on that computer as I did. I do recall that he paid the CompuServe bills when they would arrive. I learned to stay within the pre-paid time limits, however, a couple hundred dollars in charges later.

I wrote school reports in Bank Street Writer that I printed out on our dot matrix continuous-feed printer. I remember flipping up the paper guides so that I could align the holes on the perforated paper with the teeth on the drive wheel. Printing an assignment, then tearing off the sheet and folding it all up to easily tear the guides off the edges.

I remember playing other games, mostly Ultima ][. I loved the free-form gameplay, that you could talk to anyone, go anywhere in the world, and even to other worlds! I remember playing the Dr. J & Larry Bird basketball game where you could dunk and shatter the backboard. I remember playing Spy Hunter and pinball and some card games. I do not recall ever paying for a game. It took a long time to copy on those 5 1/4" floppies. :) I remember getting pissed at the computer when I would try to do something during the game and hitting the computer.

I remember the computer heating up and having to open the top and re-seat the chips.

I remember taking a programming class and learning BASIC.

10 print "Sam is cool"
20 goto 10

I remember trying to input a program from a Byte magazine, taking hours and hours and hours but it didn't run. I'm sure I was missing a step. But from that, I learned how to step through code. I recall breaking into programs back then and reading through the code and trying to change some things, like what characters would say, things like that.

I didn't use computers much in college, but my girlfriend had a Mac, the first Mac I had I ever used. My good friend Tony had an Amiga that he swore by. I preferred the Mac. I preferred that girlfriend, too - she's now my wife. :)

From all the computer work I did back in those days, it seems natural that I now work in IT. All the new devices don't faze me - it's just a computer at heart. They do what we tell them to do. Mostly.

I always would say, when I was getting ready to graduate from college, that I wish I knew a skill like my dad did - his father was a bricklayer, and my dad could (and still can, he just doesn't) lay brick. He built a brick wall between our house and our neighbor in the house I first lived in. He set the bricks in our steps at the house we moved to when I was 9. When we drive around Memphis, he points out all the houses that he built while working for his father.

Looking back now, I see that I do have a skill. That I had this skill back then, but I didn't know what it was. To me, I was just playing around with computers. I didn't realize that I was learning the skills that are needed to work with most every electronic device we use today - iPhones, TiVos, MacBooks, Windows, DirecTV, microwaves, Blackberrys, iPods, Androids, etc.

These devices aren't foreign to me, thanks to my father. How they work, what they do is as familiar to me as the back of my hand - a hand that, thanks also to my father, has never really seen a hard day's labor work in my life. He taught me that "you should get paid for what you know, not what you do."

Now that I'm standing up here, on top of this bed of knowledge, I see that he taught me all these things about technology - by putting a computer in front of me. And letting me explore, and encouraging that exploration.

Thanks, Dad.

2007 End Of Year Music Post

2011-05-11T20:06:00.000-07:00

O:KMMS - January 10, 2008

I might just get this in before 2008. :) (nope. :)

Song I've neither heard nor heard of before Blender voted it Song of the Year: "Umbrella" by Rhianna (My reaction upon hearing it? "Meh....")

Album I was totally gay for this year: Life in Cartoon Motion by Mika. "Lollipop", "Grace Kelley", "Big Girls (You Are Beautiful)" - All tons of fun and gay, gay, gay. I loved it. :)

Most surprising album: Jesse Malin - Glitter in the Gutter - I was never a big D-Generation fan; their marketing sold them as NYC punk but the music reminded me of West Coast hair-metal more than anything and I never gave them a second thought.

Jesse released this album this year and I probably wouldn't have heard it at all, except that I had to put together the alt.country station for the web radio broadcaster Slacker.com. The album opens with the anthemic "Don't Let Them Take You Down (Beautiful Day)" and keeps up a good pace with solid songwriting, good flow, ballads and rockers, through the album-ending heartbreaker "Aftermath".

If you'd've said someone I'd never heard of would have released an album that contained a duet with Bruce Springsteen and a slow piano cover of "Bastards of Young" that I'd really, really like, I think I probably would have been wildly skeptical. Turns out, you'd've been right. :)

Best alcohol-soaked discovery: Lucero. Their last album Rebels, Rogues & Sworn Brothers was released in 2006, but it was another alt.country station discovery. First caught by the lyric "c'mon baby won't you dance/make good use out of these drunken feet" from "What Else Would You Have Me Be?", I soon found "San Francisco" and "She's Just That Kind Of Girl". The clincher for me, though, was hearing the opening riff from "I Don't Wanna Be The One" today in my car. It sounds more like a Knack riff than Lucero, but there's soon the boozy drawl and pounding rhythms, and it made me glad I discovered them. :)

Best pleasant surprise: Kevin Devine, Put Your Ghost To Rest First heard the song "Not Over You Yet" from the Make the Clocks Move album while doing research for building my Slacker.com station and really liked the opening lyric "You were always cute/But goddamn! you got hot/Hot enough to streak the streets white with sunspots when you walk" and was taken with his ability for a melody and a lyric. PYGTR was released in '06 as well, but this guy is so below-the-radar that I still consider it an '07 release. :) "Brooklyn Boy", the song opener, is a song about taking drugs, a very happy-sounding song about "Chopping lines, hey hey/It's my birthday". Great juxtaposition. I'm also very fond of "Less Yesterday, More Today". He's got a unique voice, but I've taken to it pretty quickly.

Best local band (Denver): Laylights. They remind me a lot of the Chameleons. I need to try to catch them live this year. "Sparrow" is my favorite, but they're all good. I'll post "Highwires", too, because it's really captured my musical sensibility of late.

Best Late Entry: Romantica. Thanks, funoka! :)

Best radio station: alt.country on Slacker.com. Hands down. :)

http://www.slacker.com/?sid=stations/1205463/571

Best single re-discovery: The Chameleons' "Swamp Thing". Heard on the freeway in L.A. in October while driving to my company's Santa Monica office. It was overcast and, well, industrial L.A. can be kind of depressing. The haunting guitar riff came on and had me. It sounded familiar, and I grooved a long for a bit. When Mark Burgess started singing, I realised it was the Chameleons, but I didn't know the name of the song, but I'm sure I'd heard it before, based on the refrain at the end, "The storm comes/Or is it just another shower?" But such a great song, the way the Chameleons make the music soar.

Best Asian-themed guitar riff to open a song on my radio station: "Hearts of Iron" - Handsome Furs. I 'm a sucker for an Asian-themed riff. "Turning Japanese" by the Vapors. "Over the Border" & "On The Shore" by Big Country. "Physical Climber" by aMiniature (well, the end part. I'll nominate the opening of "Zero In Trust" as well).

Best lyric: (tie) Art Brut

From "Pump Up The Volume": "I know I shouldn't/Is it so wrong/To break from your kiss/To turn up a pop song"
From "St. Pauli": "Punk rock ist nicht tot!"
From "People In Love": "What becomes of the broken-hearted?/They're drunk for a few weeks,/Then back where they started/So pass me the wine/A cigarette too/We've about a week and a half to get through"
From "Sound of Summer": "Play and record/Held down together/Tabs pushed off/So you can't tape over it ever"
From "Jealous Guy": "I should be flattered that it's come to this/Where you're satisfied by just a goodnight kiss/I can't sleep because I've started to question/Whether your ex-boyfriends let you get this much resting/I'm not going to let you sleep/I'm pulling on blankets and tugging on sheets"

Funny thing, a friend of mine writes lyrics like this and they totally annoy me. But it's charming coming from a Brit. It's kind of like Nick Swardson's "British Kid":

..

Best show: You'd think it'd be easy, considering I only went to 3 this year. The three were, in chronological order: Morrissey; Bloc Party; Hannah Montana feat. the Jonas Brothers. They were all great for different reasons. Morrissey, because it'd been over 20 years since I'd seen him last, in that other band of his. He was great, his band was great, the sound was great...just a wonderful night. Having him close the show with "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" brought tears to my eyes - I never thought I'd hear him perform that song. Bloc Party was great because I was largely there by myself and was able to enjoy it unencumbered by any sort of inhibition. I closed my eyes and danced and rocked and swayed...it was a great experience. Hannah Montana, you ask? Well, I have two daughters and it was the first concert either had been to, and it was a complete surprise to them up until I handed them the tickets after we parked at the arena. They were very happy and thankful and they had a great time. It was a great time to be a dad.

Three-way tie. :)

Best album: Bloc Party. From my review when it came out:

"More dense than Silent Alarm, lots of textures moving around, or I should say under. The vocals are out front as usual, where they should be.

I love Bloc Party. Even more now. If I were a drunk 20 year old wanting these same things, I'd be singing this in the mirror to myself instead of the Cure.

It's bringing back memories that aren't mine, yet I wish were."

Best song to remind me of a deceased friend: "Pearl", by Maritime. It's in a previous playlist. Go find it, and go remember Crash.

Holy fucking crap, 2007 was an amazing musical year for me. Let's hope 2008 is half as incredible. :)

Mother’s Day 2011

2011-05-08T07:53:00.000-07:00

I’ve written about my father a lot, but I don’t seem to write about my mother much. I’m not sure why my relationship with my dad is on my mind so much more than her. Maybe I’ll go into that another time.

I’d say that the reason I don’t write about my mom much is that there’s not any conflict, really.

She rarely has reason to get mad at me anymore. Not like she used to when I was a stupid teenager who knew it all. Like the time my parents were having a party. It had snowed and she asked “Do you want to shovel the steps?” Now, most of us know this statement as “Go shovel the steps.” Smartass kid me answered her question directly - No. No, I did not want to go shovel the steps. Well, naturally, she got mad. Pissed. Which was the proper response to a know-it-all teenager. She went out to shovel. I tried to tell her that I meant that I didn’t want to shovel the steps, but that I would. That was a tough lesson learned that I obviously still remember all these years later.

She worked at a small tchotchke shop in our high school years to have a little extra money around for things. She drove us to practices and games. She was interested in the things that I was interested in - (although she may just have been humoring me, but I’ll never know).

She has stories she likes to tell about me. Like when I was a little boy, I walked up to her and a friend and said “Wanna see an amazing trick?” She’ll tell you she doesn’t remember the trick, just that this smart little kid popped out with that sentence. Another is of a teacher’s comment on my report card: “Sammy is uniquely himself.”

Yet another story is the year she asked me what I wanted for Christmas. “Same thing I wanted last year” was my exasperated reply. “What was that?” she asked in return. “A piANO” came the teenage response. Perhaps as a way of testing my resolve, the terms of the deal were laid out. “Only if you take lessons” she said. I agreed quickly. We obtained a piano. I took lessons for the remainder of my high school years.

She likes it when I rub her shoulders, something she used to ask me to do to help her relax. She laughs hysterically at my Kevin Meany impression: “Walkin’ around with your tight pants on…we’re big pants people!” She rolls her eyes when I make dumb jokes but still smiles.

She has merely been the most supportive, consistent, available, constant, gentle, strong, kind, patient, giving person in my whole life. My mom has been everything you ever want in a mother.

Have you ever heard someone say “You have the coolest mom!”?

I have. A lot.

Happy Mother’s Day to one of my best friends. Thank you. For literally everything.

Love,

Your Son

Unsure

2011-05-02T08:59:00.001-07:00

This is kind of a strange feeling.

I think my first reaction to hearing the news about Osama bin Laden was a bit of shock. My wife & I watched Obama's speech and took that all in. I read more reactions on Twitter and started seeing the jokes come and that was ok. Not very original, lots of retweets.

Then I heard "USA! USA!" from the TV and asked my wife what that was. She told me people were celebrating outside of the White House and chanting.

That's when things got weird for me.

Yes, I know who he was and what he did, what he was responsible for. He was a terrible person, and gave rise to a lot of suffering and death, directly or indirectly. Somehow, to me, celebrating in that manner didn't seem right, though.

I feel kind of sad. Not in a "poor bin Laden" kind of way, but in the way that someone was killed. Someone was murdered. For some, that won't be enough or won't seem like enough.

It may serve as a deterrent for someone else thinking about committing terrorist acts. "Damn, they found him, I don't stand a chance." It may bring about retaliation events.

I just can't bring myself to be elated, or happy about this.

I'm not happy that animals are killed to be my food, but it's the best way for me to sustain myself and my health. I'm not happy that he was killed, but I also can't help but feel that eventually it will help heal the wounds of his actions and the resulting wars.

But, I don't know that for sure. Right now, I just feel...a little empty. And conflicted. Unsure.

Traffic Light Surfing

2011-04-27T17:55:00.000-07:00

Caught a wave today. Not much carving, but just steady riding.

I started up the swell and figured I’d have to bail at some point. I usually do, most mornings. Something special was happening this morning, however, and I was just cruising. It was one of those times where you just know you’re in the zone - about halfway through, I realized that I hadn’t had to stop, and likely wouldn’t have to. Everything was lining up, people were staying out of my way, I was getting the green lights where I never did. Sometimes when this happens, you think you’ve just jinxed it by thinking that you’re in the groove, but I knew that wouldn’t happen today.

I cut back as the wave closed out, wondering when I’d get a ride like that again.

Who are you?

2011-04-20T13:00:00.000-07:00

I was having a discussion with my wife last night about the identities that we give ourselves, prompted by life events but also a friend's discussionwith another friend about weight loss recently.

I started talking about the observation that a loss is a loss - someone's loss of weight, someone's loss of a foot of their colon, the loss of a loved one. And I queried aloud what or who would I be if my colitis was suddenly gone? I've been "Sam the colitis guy" for almost 20 years. It has defined the majority of my adult life and shaped who I am right now. But what if that was gone? Who would I be then?

I don't know. I am who I am right now, and that guy who didn't have colitis is looooooong gone. I hope that sometime in the future I'll find out who I am without this (I have age 50 as some sort of magical line by which time a cure will be found), but it will be interesting indeed if that day comes to pass.

Is happiness "a reproachable waste of time?"

2011-04-06T20:42:00.001-07:00

Interesting paragraph in a book I'm reading, Cultures & Organizations: Software of the Mind. (Hat tip to Jay for recommending Hofstede's work) It goes like this:

Happiness, or subjective well-being (SWB), as academics prefer to call it, is a universally cherished goal. Some philosophical books, such as classic Buddhism, condemn the pursuit of happiness and consider it a reproachable waste of time in which an enlightened person should not engage. However, such elitist doctrines cannot have been easily embraced by the masses. Throughout the world and regardless of their religion, most people would like to attain a state of bliss here and now and, in contrast to classic Buddhist pundits, are not deterred by the certainty of its transience.

Ok, first off, I'm not sure what "classic Buddhism" is. That's like saying "classic Christianity". Does the author mean Mahayana? Or Theravada? Nichiren? Zen? Pure Land? What would "classic Christianity" refer to? Catholicism? Which kind? Greek Orthodox? Roman? Or would it mean Protestants? You get the idea.

Secondly, as I understand it, I don't think buddhism condemns "the pursuit of happiness as a reproachable waste of time." It's kind of unfortunate to read this in this book, because many of their observations had been spot-on until that point. It's tough to read stuff like that in a book because it makes me wonder where else their bias has been showing through.

So, in my understanding, what does buddhism say about happiness? One of my favorite podcasts that I recall listening to talked about stages toward enlightenment and while I don't recall the specifics, it went something along the lines of giving up _____, which also meant giving up its opposite. Perhaps "giving up" is the wrong term, but more of releasing. So, to rid yourself of sadness, you need to release your attachment to sadness, release sadness itself. But! If you're going to release your attachment to sadness, you'll also find yourself releasing your attachment to happiness. Why? Because you start to see that attaching to one as futile as attaching to the other - it's trying to hold on to something that's transient. The end state is equanimity - you are happy - you are sad - they're not the same, but wanting to always have one and never have the other is delusion. I might be sad tomorrow. I might be happy the day after that. They come, they will go. It's not to say I don't want to be happy, but there are causes and conditions that give rise to happiness and sometimes I'm powerless over them. Most of the time, I'd wager.

Reproachable? Hardly. Waste of time? Not really.

Just because I know "happiness" is transient doesn't mean I don't want to be happy and don't try to be happy. I just know that it won't last and so, when it goes, I accept that.

Driving and thinking.

2011-03-29T11:18:00.001-07:00

People don't believe in ghosts, by and large, but they still think mind reading is possible.

Or maybe people do believe in ghosts, I don't know. I can't read their minds to see if they do or not.

This post is brought to you by a couple of events. Last night, my older child asserted that she couldn't read my mind when I was trying to talk to her about something. I countered with stating that I couldn't read her mind either, that's why I was asking her questions.

Second event was this morning, driving to work. For some reason, I was telling myself that I knew why the people in other cars were changing lanes. "They must be turning at x intersection." "They're probably getting on the freeway." Why I was doing this, I don't know.

So instead of telling myself stories about why people were doing what and going where, I tried to just be in every moment as it came to me. I was unsuccessful, but at least I tried letting go of the stories I was telling myself.

But all that led to this wondering why we continually tell ourselves what others are thinking. "She probably thinks I'm fat." "He must think I'm a total idiot." I have given up on a lot of this type of thinking recently, and I have to say, my mind is much more at peace because of it. But I still play the game. My child's comments led to a bit of an argument and this morning I was telling myself what she might be thinking, or what she might do. I really had no idea, but I continued to tell myself the stories.

Which is why, when I found myself telling myself what other drivers were doing and why, I kind of realized I needed to take a step back. I don't know where this particular road will lead, but I'm interested to find out.

Whistling in the air ducts

2011-03-09T11:53:00.000-08:00

Somewhere in my house has developed a whistling when the air conditioner is on. It's been ungodly hot this week - well, for Colorado, anyway - and we're having company over on Saturday, some friends of mine. So we've taken to having the AC on to help keep the house cool, so we're not jacking it up when we need it.
So, there's a faint whistle, the muted squeeeeee of air moving over some opening. And some people it would drive mad.

I've found that it's comforting to me. Comforting because it evokes the memory of my Granny's house in Memphis, Tennessee. I loved both sets of my grandparents. My mom's mom lived in a nice little suburb, with my mom's sister down the street and around the corner. Granny's house wasn't all too big, as all the kids had moved out, but it was warm, and homey. The family room set back from the front door, the floor covered in deep red tile and had wood paneling on the walls- the room was mostly dark, and no amount of lamps could illuminate the thing. The TV sat in front of what I think used to be the hearth - no need for fires with central heat and air. And we would sit (okay, I would sit) and eat my favorite treat (okay, one of my favorite treats). My Granny's oatmeal cookies with a big glass of orange juice. I've had people tell me that's an odd combination, but Granny's oatmeal cookies (of course they had rasins) weren't overly sweet. They weren't overly crumbly, either, but just that right spot in the middle, as a Granny's cookie should be. I would munch cookies pilfered from the pig (her cookie jar was a pig in top hat and coat, replete with monocle) and watch the television. I don't remember what. Wrestling. Movies. Didn't much matter. I had my cookies and oj.
And in the background, the whistle from the vents.

O:KMMS - July 14, 2005

Your Life: The Soundtrack

2011-03-09T11:50:00.000-08:00

Another O:KMMS post. April 14, 2006

Your Life: The Soundtrack

Opening credits: La Bien, Le Mal
Waking up: Mr. Blue Sky
Average day: Desperado
First date: Greetings to the New Brunette
Falling in love: 40 Days
Love scene: Lorelei
Fight scene: Send The Pain Below
Breaking up: Love To Hate You
Getting back together: Sexuality
Secret love: starlfur
Life's okay: Good Day Sunshine
Mental breakdown: Crowds
Driving: Teenage Thunder
Learning a lesson: Chance
Deep thought: She Has No Time
Flashback: Once In A Lifetime
Partying: I Am One
Happy dance: Five Guys Named Moe
Regreting: Regret
Long night alone: Moon Over Bourbon Street
Death scene: Asleep
Closing credits: Don't Change

Avenue

2011-03-09T11:46:00.001-08:00

Avenue

Standing on the corner, I could imagine her crossing this path. I could imagine the space of 12 years, the thousands of footfalls on this same path, yet hers and mine met eventually here.

We were together once, a dozen and still seven more.

Blood rushes to my head when I think of that time, those years ago. Driving East to meet her in her house, so far away, it makes me laugh when I think of those journeys. I had made my way through the awkward stage and started to become who I am. But those were here, where we met. She transferred to my school to be with me and I ended up abandoning her in the summertime. A summer not unlike the one I'm having now....

We saw each other again later, she still moved in circles that intersected with mine. I apologised to her, full of alcohol but the meaning not dulled. She was angry and I accepted that. I had to, I was at fault. I hurt her, and then I hurt inside, in spite of myself. I'm not sure she knew what to make of that. We talked, but I knew nothing was in the offing...we remained friends. I had heard stories of her losing herself that summer...over me? Who can say. Perhaps I saw her moving down that road and that's why I let her go.

And yet still later, I saw her again. My heart quickened when I saw her, as it always does when I think of her, still. We talked and talked. I was glad she was there, she knew where she was going and who would be there. I lost her in the evening, but I hoped I'd see her again. I haven't.

We talked years later, again. I don't know that I've talked to her since. I can still find her sometimes, though. People are easy to find when you know where to look for them.

I don't see her, except in my head, in the pictures that I have of her, in the memories of her house, of 6th avenue.

Now she lives where I used to, walks the streets that I did, once. Our footfalls cross on streets I don't think about anymore, but once knew as surely as the notes in my ears, now. Thinking back to our younger years, I blink and wonder where they went. Sometimes I look for her when I drive here. I remember her address. I think of her there and see the ghosts of days past, of us meeting on the corner and intersecting on the avenue. Only I'm not there, but she'll look around, because she knows I'm there.

Yet here I am, down south. On no avenue, I stare out and dream, wide awake.

Yet another O:KMMS post. June 28, 2006

Six Things

2011-03-09T11:43:00.000-08:00

Another O:KMMS post. This was from June 2, 2006. Additional info appears in the comments.

The Set-Up

Post a blog about six weird things and-or habits about yourself. After doing so, you need to choose six people to be tagged. The people who get tagged need to write a blog of their six weird habits and-or things, as well as state this rule clearly.

The Six Things About Me

1. I retell stories. A lot. The same ones. Most often to people I don't know, or don't know well. My specialty (as my wife would tell you, too, since she's heard it a jillion times) is when someone asks me "Where are you from?" I launch into this thing about how I was born in blah but then my parents moved me to blah when I was 8, but I went back to college in blah and then realised that I missed the weather in blah.... Blah, blah, blah. Same goddam story. Except now I preface it with "my wife hates when I do this, but I was born in blah...." Every goddam time.

2. I pluck in between my eyebrows. And sometimes I start pulling at my eyebrows to get all the loose boys out. not like trying to pluck them, just clearing the forest, if you will. And if I find a long one, I have to get it out right then. You know, the LONG eyebrow, the mutant who, when among the rest, you can't even notice, but when you *do* find it, sticks out like Gheorghe Muresan on the Tokyo streets.

3. I have great feet. No tons of hair on the knuckles, no sideways toes, no cruddy toenails. Great lookin' feet.

4. I still try to not step on cracks. Dunno why. It helps me to watch where I'm walking, but if I can, I try to avoid stepping on cracks.

5. When I fill my car up with gas (or any car) the end of the dollar amount has to end in the number 8. *HAS* to.

6. I like the knives in my kitchen in a certain place. If they're not put away to my specifications, I move them. Oh, and I have one certain knife that I use to, erm, cut my cheese. It's an old serrated knife I've had forever, and I use it to cut cheddar. I think it's just cheddar - if I'm cutting brie, I just use a regular knife. I don't buy a whole lot of other cheeses. It's just that one knife...with cheddar. It helps that it's not very sharp anymore.

Near Yet So

2011-03-09T11:30:00.000-08:00

She sat with arms crossed, young fingers encircling her elbows, striped thin scarf tight around her neck cascading down.

Black beret perched back on her light yellow hair, she watched me talk.

I'd never been so self-conscious. I looked away as she looked at me so as to appear aloof.

When she spoke, she stared straight ahead, not looking at me but occasionally. I took the opportunity to gaze into her eyes, noting the way her face fit together: the arch of her eyebrows, the doe-like quality I beheld in her eyes - innocent, beautiful. I felt she could see through my facades, the disguise was for nothing, I was laid bare.

I reached up to scratch my neck, any opportunity to fidget and pretend that there was something else occupying my thoughts aside from her. Looking at her, though, thoughts slid in and out of my mind. "I love you," I thought, the words closer to my lips than I would've liked. I broke out of my reality and dreamed of taking her in my arms and kissing her as she spoke, her body yielding along with her mind.

Her slim fingers tugged at the sheer long sleeves of her t-shirt, I felt that I could see her skin through the weave of the fabric, I strained so hard observing her.

I broke away, ending the conversation, shattering the attraction like an atomsmasher, releasing myself from her pull. I had to separate, lest I make good on my yearning.

Slowly walking away, I schemed a way to return....

The snow continued to fall.

This is an Operation: Kill My MySpace post. Original posting: Jan. 8, 2008

Operation: Kill My MySpace

2011-03-09T11:27:00.000-08:00

Hello! I'm back. What I'm going to embark upon here and there is saving my documents away from my old MySpace account. It serves no purpose being there, so I'm going to move some of the stuff I'd like to save to this space. My space. Get it? HA!

Ok. Operation Kill My MySpace begins in 3…2…1…

Sky Flying By

2011-01-04T18:52:00.001-08:00

Hi everyone - I'm popping in to let you know that a good friend of mine has a music project called Sky Flying By. He just released a new album, please check it out and buy it if you like it:

Bandcamp:
http://skyflyingby.bandcamp.com/

iTunes (north america, uk/europe, japan, australia/new zealand):
http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?id=407925097

Amazon (CD):
http://www.amazon.com/Do-They-Still-Make-Lighthouses/dp/B004H1UOWC

Amazon (MP3):
http://www.amazon.com/Do-They-Still-Make-Lighthouses/dp/B004H04C3K

Vinyl will hopefully be out in the spring. The genre is "post rock" like Mogwai or the like, meaning no lyrics, but great songs.

Tell everyone you know who likes music! Thanks! :)

Happy new year + blog hiatus

2011-01-03T10:56:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone! Thanks to @reverb10 for a fun month of writing. I had a great time answering all the prompts and making some new friends in the blogosphone.

As a method of cutting down on my procrastination, I'm going to be taking a hiatus from blogging, as I have my final paper for my master's degree due in a couple of months. Actually, it's due towards the end of next month, and I'm going to need every available minute to get it done & done well.

So, I'll be writing (and writing my ass off, I must say), it just won't be here, or most any other place for that matter. I'll probably pop up on twitter from time to time, but hopefully that'll be about all. No procrastination this year! Or at least a dramatic reduction from years past.

Be well everyone and I'll see you in March!

Reverb writing #31 - Get it done.

2011-01-01T17:27:00.001-08:00

December 31 – Core Story
What central story is at the core of you, and how do you share it with the world? (Bonus: Consider your reflections from this month. Look through them to discover a thread you may not have noticed until today.) (Author: Molly O’Neill)
-----------------

I think, reading back over these 30 days, I'm detecting that I procrastinate a lot and that I want to not procrastinate.

Does that mean that my core story is procrastination? No, I think that my core story would be something more along the lines of improvement. That I'm continually looking for ways to improve.

I feel like procrastinating is one of my last frontiers. I'm pretty good at completing tasks that are set for me, but when I have to self-start I have a little trouble getting started.

When it comes to improving myself, though, I think I do work on that on a regular basis. How do I share that with the world, though? Probably by encouraging others to always strive for themselves, too. To not settle for "okay" or "good enough" or "this'll do." I think I'm some people's biggest cheerleader in wanting them to do better for themselves. I understand that I need to be better about cheerleading for myself and getting my stuff done. If I would just get my stuff done, it would be done, and then it wouldn't hang over my head like it does.

So…here's to getting stuff done in 2011. Let this post reverberate throughout my year.

Reverb writing #30 - Quilt

2010-12-30T19:25:00.000-08:00

December 30 – Gift
Prompt: Gift. This month, gifts and gift-giving can seem inescapable. What’s the most memorable gift, tangible or emotional, you received this year? (Author: Holly Root)
----------------------

When I first saw this prompt, I thought it would be difficult to think back and come up with a memorable gift.

When I sat down to write it, I remembered a gift I got this year that I declared probably the best gift I've ever received.

The gift was from my parents. My mom found the website for it, showed it to me, and I did the rest. Well, they paid for it, too.

This calls for another picture.

"The Quilt" is made up of music shirts of mine that I've acquired over the past 25 years. Many were shirts from concerts that I attended, and most of those I went to a while ago.

The shirts are from my favorite bands, or have special memories attached to them. Like the "Hit the sack with Zak" KBPI shirt I won in a call-in contest back in "the day". Or the Kids In The Hall shirt I bought at their show in San Francisco. They're not really music, but they are awesome.

Probably the best memory is the Late Night with Conan O'Brien t-shirt. See, the first year Conan was on the air, the show did a 9th annual college band search. We submitted a tape - I'm not sure which song we sent in. "Souvenir"? Anyway, after a while we got a package in the mail saying that we had been declared finalists, but didn't win. It seemed honest and not form-letter-y, and in the package were four navy blue shirts with Late Night with Conan O'Brien embroidered on them. I wore my shirt a lot, but stopped wearing it lately because I didn't want to wear it out. Putting it on this quilt was a great way for me to preserve it and see it a lot at the same time.

I had been trying to get this quilt done for years (and believe it or not, I still have a ton of shirts to make a 2nd or 3rd one), but never had a good way to get it made. My mom found the site - campusquilts.com - and we were off. They decided to pay for it to be made for my 40th birthday and while I received it after the day, it turned out better than I ever could have hoped, and I'll forever think of them and all those great memories when I snuggle up underneath it to get warm.

Which reminds me, it's 8 degrees F outside right now, and supposed to get colder.

Gotta go grab my quilt. :)

(Detail 1 Detail 2 Detail 3 Detail 4)

Reverb writing #29 - Momentary list of definitions

2010-12-29T10:07:00.000-08:00

December 29 – Defining Moment
Describe a defining moment or series of events that has affected your life this year. (Author: Kathryn Fitzmaurice)
-----------------------

My first reaction was that I've already written about a lot of these moments, but it occurs to me that there have been others:
• It took me effectively 8 months to find work after being laid off. Humbling, but it also brough out a fighter and tenacity that I wasn't sure was in me.
• I've turned 40. A milestone, but little more than a number.
• My oldest got braces on her teeth. Orthodontia. For some reason, her getting her ears pierced didn't faze me. Getting contacts? The girl's gotta see. Her growing taller didn't bother me. Her being out of elementary school and into middle school - it happens. But braces? She suddenly became a woman. Perhaps that's my inner 13-year-old talking, but getting braces…that means you're grown up. And I'm a 40-year-old dad of a girl with braces.
• My youngest turned 10. Officially out of the single digits.
• I finished my core classes for my Master's degree. I have a final paper to write that's due essentially in February. I'm panicking. I'm glad that Reverb10 will be over in 3 days, I won't have any time to work on it. I shouldn't be spending time now.

I suppose that's about it. Most other things have continued apace. ;)

Reverb writing #28 - Getting There

2010-12-29T09:20:00.000-08:00

December 28 – Achieve
What’s the thing you most want to achieve next year? How do you imagine you’ll feel when you get it? Free? Happy? Complete? Blissful? Write that feeling down. Then, brainstorm 10 things you can do, or 10 new thoughts you can think, in order to experience that feeling today. (Author: Tara Sophia Mohr)
---------------------------

I want to achieve financial independence again. I'm sure I'll feel relieved when I do.

I can think of one thing I can do: get a job that pays more.

New thoughts I can think: Letting go of my thinking that it somehow makes me less of a person or contributor to society that we're having to borrow from here or there to make ends meet. People struggle, people borrow, people make it through.

My most overused phrase of this year: "We'll see." But it's true. We'll see what happens. We don't know. But if we're paying attention, we'll see it when it comes. Whatever "it" is. :)

Reverb writing #27 - OJ

2010-12-28T14:11:00.001-08:00

December 27 – Ordinary Joy
Our most profound joy is often experienced during ordinary moments. What was one of your most joyful ordinary moments this year? (Author: Brené Brown)
-----------------

I have many joyful moments when driving home from work. The satisfaction of a job well done, I'm relaxed, going home to my family. It's that kind of in-between time, and I'm driving towards the Colorado sunset, which brings a different beauty to most every single day. I play music on my drives home, and depending on what comes up it either feeds my introspective mood or amps me up or chills me out. I know that's kind of generic, but those things happen on my drives home. They're all back streets, no freeway, and pretty much a straight shot once I get on the main road.

That's some ordinary joy for you. :)

Reverb writing #26 - Meat.

2010-12-28T12:03:00.001-08:00

December 26 – Soul Food
What did you eat this year that you will never forget? What went into your mouth & touched your soul? (Author: Elise Marie Collins)
--------------------

In September I went with my parents and my family on a late Father's Day outing. I was traveling back in June on the 20th and so were they, so we put it off until the summer settled down. That happened in September, so we made plans for a Colorado Rockies baseball game, and I suggested dinner at Ted's Montana Grill beforehand.

We all like Ted's, and it was only a short walk from the restaurant to the ballpark, and that made sense to everyone. I typically order a bison burger, but I felt like branching out a bit on this particular day, for this particular meal.

I ordered the bison tenderloin filet. The meal arrived and I was happy to receive my 8oz of meat. However, I was not prepared for how flavorful and succulent this steak would be. I moaned enough about it that my family was curious, and although it wasn't a lot of steak, I shared it with everyone who wanted some. My kids were especially impressed by the taste. At home, we usually have burgers or shepherd's pie or the like when we have cow. We don't do steaks, and when we do, I'm not very adept at cooking them, so they leave something to be desired.

We all savored our meals, and I was happy that everyone got to taste my steak. I haven't ordered one since, and I'm not sure when I will again, but it was by far my most memorable meal of the year.

Reverb writing #25 - Alison

2010-12-26T16:05:00.000-08:00

December 25 – Photo – a present to yourself
Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you. (Author: Tracey Clark)
------------------

In keeping with the title of this blog, I don't post pictures here. The focus is on the words. However, for this post, I will link to a picture of myself, taken by Kristel Poole at Sticky Rice in Richmond, VA. I've written recently about my first experience singing karaoke, and this picture was from that night, singing "Alison" by Elvis Costello.

I love this picture because it shows me doing something I like doing - performing - and shows me at my least self-conscious. I don't think I'm very photogenic at all, but this picture isn't about me, it's about letting go of worrying about what others might think and about living and experiencing this life. I recall that Kristel was taking pictures, but I don't recall her taking this picture. I think she captured the moment very well, and I think that's what good photographers do - see within their subjects and see the bigger picture of the point in time.

Funny thing is, when I look at this picture I see myself singing something by Otis Redding or Marvin Gaye, like "Let's Get It On" or something. :) I was told I sang well, and I think I recall that I did sing okay. I had a good time drinking and singing with friends, and that's all that matters.

She has a photography business, you should check out her services if you live on the east coast.

I love this picture. Thanks, Kristel.

Reverb writing #24 - Stasis

2010-12-26T14:59:00.000-08:00

December 24 – Everything’s OK
What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead? (Author: Kate Inglis)
---------------------

I think the best moment that proved that things will be okay is the week I found out that my unemployment benefits would expire was the week that I interviewed for my current job. The job I'm in right now is satisfying in every single way except financially, but it's employment, and it's covering my family with medical/dental/vision insurance.

I thought it was interesting that something finally came along as I got the news about my unemployment benefits. Things seem to happen like that for me, it seems. I'm okay with that, too. :) I'm not sure that I can incorporate that into long-term plans, but I suppose it's a pointer for me to just let things go, go with the flow, etc. I need to be okay with things as they are and not try to force them.

Reverb writing #23 - The Churlish Dandy

2010-12-25T17:47:00.000-08:00

December 23 – New Name
Let’s meet again, for the first time. If you could introduce yourself to strangers by another name for just one day, what would it be and why?
--------------------

"Hello, I'm Sam, but you may call me the Churlish Dandy."

I had "The Churlish Dandy" as my bio on Twitter for a while and I changed it when I was looking for work to the straightforward and truthful bio that I have now. Straightforward and truthful, but not necessarily as interesting as "The Churlish Dandy." :)

churlish - adj. - rude in a mean-spirited and surly way
dandy - noun - a man unduly devoted to style, neatness, and fashion in dress and appearance.

I'm not nearly as dandyish as I'd like (and I would like), and most everyone who knows me would tell you that churlish doesn't describe me at all. I just like the combination of words, how they sound and what they mean. :)

Reverb writing #22 - Move this

2010-12-22T14:23:00.001-08:00

December 22 – Travel
How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year?
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I traveled by air - to Orlando, to Richmond, back to Denver.

I traveled by car - to and from interviews, doing some consulting work, to and from work. A couple of baseball games, a couple of movies, some restaurants.

I traveled by foot - to and from my kids' school, exercising when I was out of work, around the building where I currently work.

In 2011, I see the same modes of travel. I'd like to have some boat travel in there, but I don't see that happening. I'll probably be taking another trip down south next year, where I'll ride some buses, and some roller coasters. :)

Confusion and doubt.

2010-12-22T07:42:00.000-08:00

I knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." She stood at the bathroom sink, playing with a hairpin on the counter.

"You okay?" I asked her.

"Yeah. Just…" Her voice trailed off and I could see that she had something on her mind.

"What is it, sweetie?" I wasn't quite prepared for what the discussion became.

"I'm kind of confused."

"What about?"

"I'm not sure if Santa is real or not." Her voice cracked and tears welled up in her eyes and my mind started to think of answers, different tacks to take to deflect the question, but this was head-on. It might have seemed a silly question for a 10-year-old to ask, but we had been fairly deft over the years.

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Well, one of the letters he wrote us has your handwriting." Busted. "Mommy said that he could change his handwriting to write like you but…. And you guys say he's real, but one of my friends said their parents told her that he's not real."

"Would it make you sad if he wasn't real?" She nodded and the tears started flowing. I hugged her as if I were saying goodbye the last remnants of my own childhood.

I think I knew the answer to her questions when I was a few years younger than she was now. Aided and abetted by a less-than-scrupulous babysitter, I had found gifts in my parent's closet. Santa ended up giving me those same gifts. I had a long career of snooping. It was a compulsion, I'm not sure driven by what, but I needed to find what I was getting. I needed to know.

I backed off for a bit, trying to figure out what to say. "Zoe says that Gramma said she didn't get to see the letter last year after you pulled it off the printer."

"I wonder what Gramma meant by that?" I was really trying to dodge the questions, still scrambling for what to say.

"I'm just really confused," she said as the tears dripped from her eyes. I didn't want to pile on, but I didn't want to just blurt it out, not three days before Christmas.

I then recalled one Christmas when I was a teenager. I still looked for presents like a madman. I had scoured the house from top to bottom and knew what I was getting for Christmas this year, as I always did. Sometimes there were gifts that I wasn't sure who they'd end up with, but I knew what was in the house to be given. I went to bed on Christmas Eve and slept soundly. I had nothing to look forward to, aside from feigning surprise at each gift from my family.

I'm pretty sure my parents woke my sister and I that year, and we walked out to see the presents that Santa had left for us. The spot where all my gifts would normally have been was empty - my gifts were piled inside a papasan chair. You know, the ones that are about 4 feet wide, shaped like a bowl that sits on a stand, with a large pad inside. My eyes must have been as wide as they could go - I had searched the house from top to bottom! There was no way that my parents could have hidden something of that size! My mind raced to figure out where they might have hidden it, but I couldn't conceive of how they could have gotten it here overnight while I slept.

I had no choice but to believe. Santa must have brought the chair. And with it, he brought my sense of wonder back to me. I realized the joy in being surprised and finding what you don't expect, and by extension, returning the joy of giving back to my parents and everyone else. I realized that people work hard to find and bestow appropriate gifts, and when you ruin the surprise for yourself, you're also ruining it for them.

I looked at my daughter and told her what I believed. "Sweetie…when I was a kid, there was a while when I didn't believe in Santa. But now that I'm a dad and have kids, I know that there's a Santa." She smiled, a final tear suspended off the end of her nose. We hugged again, and I got up to leave her to finish getting ready for bed.

As I walked out the door, I turned back one last time. "Sweetie?"

"Yeah Dad?"

"Ho ho ho."

Reverb writing #21 - The future looks after the past

2010-12-21T07:19:00.000-08:00

December 21 – Future Self. Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead? (Bonus: Write a note to yourself 10 years ago. What would you tell your younger self?) (Author: Jenny Blake)
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I would tell current self to slow down, that this life is a marathon, not a sprint. Stop looking at every opportunity as the next best thing, thinking that you have to do X by Y date. Slow down, enjoy yourself, be safe & smart. Meet some people, help anyone you can, but pace yourself. Have fun with your family, get out and see your local surroundings. Cherish the time you have with your parents. Find more people to hug. Listen! Take the time and listen. Oh, and stop procrastinating and write your fucking paper. Now! Get going!

I would tell my 10-years-younger self to focus on something, and not just look at every new opportunity as the next best thing. (ARE YOU NOTICING A PATTERN, CURRENT SELF?) Take more videotape of your kids. Stop procrastinating. Do things with a purpose and intent, don't just meander. You've meandered a lot, and there's value in meandering, but if you focus now, you'll be better positioned to enjoy yourself in 10 years. But don't listen to me, I'm just an old man. What do I know?

Reverb writing #20 - Abandon.

2010-12-20T17:42:00.001-08:00

December 20 – Beyond Avoidance - What should you have done this year but didn’t because you were too scared, worried, unsure, busy or otherwise deterred from doing? (Bonus: Will you do it?) (Author: Jake Nickell)
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This one's kind of tough, because I feel like I've been putting myself out there more lately. Taking chances, meeting people, trying to live life a little more fully. I suppose it also goes back to prompt 18, about not committing totally to being a writer or a musician. I can't really, I have a family to support.

I think once I'm done with my degree I'll be able to work on other creative endeavours with more regularity. I've been in the masters program almost constantly since fall 2007, usually only one class at a time, but when you've got a family and are working full time, that's plenty. But anytime during a quarter that I've been in school, if I've been doing something other than studying or classwork, I've felt kind of guilty. The nice thing is that I've gotten all A's and 1 B, so the hard work has paid off that way, but there's another side of me that's been neglected.

It'll be nice to indulge my creative side with abandon.

I just need to hold me to it.

Reverb writing #19 - Scar tissue.

2010-12-20T13:29:00.001-08:00

December 19 – Healing. What healed you this year? Was it sudden, or a drip-by-drip evolution? How would you like to be healed in 2011? (Author: Leonie Allan)
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I suppose the healing would go back to prompt 17, and how I healed from mostly self-inflicted wounds of self-doubt and low self worth in the wake of being out of work for 7 months. Many people in the past two years have written about how being out of work saps your spirit and makes you wonder if you really have anything to offer the workplace and the world.

The healing started at the job where I'm working now. In my masters classes, I've learned about the importance of showing thanks to employees and co-workers. It might seem small, but when one class asked "When was the last time you were thanked or appreciated at work?" I realized that I couldn't really name anytime in the previous two or three years. Someone I was working with at the time then sent me an e-mail to say thanks for participating in a meeting, and I realized how infrequently I heard those words.

I hear those words all the time now, and they've helped heal me. I feel appreciated and I have a newfound sense of self worth and self esteem, which is a welcome change from those 7 months adrift.

Reverb writing #18 - Write.

2010-12-20T09:31:00.000-08:00

December 18 – Try. What do you want to try next year? Is there something you wanted to try in 2010? What happened when you did / didn’t go for it? (Author: Kaileen Elise)
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I like to think that I really tried giving writing a go in 2010. I was given the chance to post a blog on the Marketing Collaborative site, and I did apply for a few writing/PR/web content creation-type jobs, but nothing solid ever came of those. I also started this blog and kept it going-ish. :) I'm proud of myself for getting out and trying, though. I went to a informative meeting at Linhart PR and was very intrigued, but also realized that at that level I would be in way over my head, which is good to know. I went for it and learned that it wasn't quite the right time.

What do I want to try next year? I think I'd like to try finishing that book that's been rattling around in my head. I see scenes and have some bits sketched out. The initial story idea came from a couple of chapters I had written for my creative writing class back in college. I have a better handle on where I'd like the story to go now, and some basic ideas. Once I'm done with my masters I'd like to give it a real go.

Reverb writing #17 - Worth.

2010-12-20T08:50:00.001-08:00

December 17 – Lesson Learned. What was the best thing you learned about yourself this past year? And how will you apply that lesson going forward? (Author: Tara Weaver)
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The best thing that I learned about myself this past year is that I can help.

I was laid off in November of '09 and I thought I would get another job fairly quickly. I had a couple of interviews in the first few months, and then a long stretch of nothing much at all. I kept doing all the right things - applying for jobs, following up with phone calls, being persistent but not annoying. I had some pretty low lows, but I countered with starting to exercise some, trying to go walking for a half hour at least a couple times per week.

Well, a few months turned into half a year, and in late June I found out that my unemployment benefits would be expiring. This coincided with spending the last of our savings (we had finally built up a decent-sized emergency fund) and wondering where we might be able to scrape some more money for the mortgage, etc.

Around that same time, a former boss called and told me that there was a position open that he thought I might be a good fit for. There was another job that I interviewed for around that time as well, one that would pay considerably more, but one that I didn't have a great feeling about. The company and culture didn't seem like a good fit for me. I didn't have to agonize too much, as that second job let me know that I wasn't in the running anymore, so I accepted the first job.

The hiring managers and staff at the place I now work let me know that they knew they were getting a deal with my skills, experience and education (I'm almost finished with my master's degree), and they would be happy to have me for as long as I could stay. The pay isn't quite where I need it to be for my family, but it's a steady paycheck and we're covered with health insurance.

However, more than just a steady paycheck, I found that I was able to come into this position and really get things done. I don't know the two people who were doing this job before me, but I'm told that the service levels weren't at the level that I deliver. I am constantly praised and thanked for the work I do here, and that has helped to erase the self-doubt and low esteem I had built up over my 7 months out of work. I now know that I have a lot to offer when given the chance.

I don't know where I'll end up going from here, but I do know that I will be forever grateful to the people here for teaching me that I can help, and that I'm valued and appreciated in the workplace.

Reverb writing #16 - Framblings

2010-12-16T13:59:00.000-08:00

December 16 – Friendship - How has a friend changed you or your perspective on the world this year? Was this change gradual, or a sudden burst? (Author: Martha Mihalick)
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People that I know from other online communities know that I struggle with my lack of close friends that are close - in other words, trusted friends in my vicinity. It's something I've lamented for years, and am taking some steps to mitigate. I'm trying to get out more here locally, and I've flown to Richmond to meet a bunch of great people that I met on Twitter.

I've said it before, but while I value my online friends just as much as people I know locally (or have a chance to see on a regular basis), I like having the tactile experience of having friends, especially good friends.

This situation is the result of my junior high/high school years. I was friends with a great bunch of guys and girls, starting from 7th grade. most of us met in 8th grade and solidified our friendships in 9th grade so by the time we got to high school (our jr high was 7-9), we were a pretty tight crew. We stayed fairly tight in college as most of them stayed in Colorado, but I went to San Diego for college, returning frequently though. Every time we got back together, it was like we hadn't been apart, having some drinks, laughing at each other, talking about life - what friends do.

Fast forward to the early 00's when I moved back to Colorado. I still had a few of my high school friends here, but a couple moved out of state within a couple of years and others lived a ways away. I kind of felt adrift, because I didn't find people that I clicked with at the places where I worked, or if I did, we lived too far away from each other to get together regularly outside of work. Add in families and careers and other activities, and it comes down to that we didn't have the free time to just be with each other and just…be.

One of my high school friends returned to the state a couple of years back, but I've seen him only once or twice a year at most since then. My wife saw that I had my hopes up that we would get together more often, and I tried taking her caution to heart, but I guess I've still been disappointed.

This year, I had my 40th birthday party and I invited people who have really meant a lot to me over the years, who have shaped my life and who I am today. I invited all of those old high school friends from the core group of about 6, and not one showed. I had other friends there from high school but they are people I've either gotten to know better in the last few years or were girls I hadn't seen in a long time. There were other people I invited that couldn't make it, I don't want it to sound like I was hugely disappointed that they didn't show up.

What was interesting was that I invited two people from one of my online communities whom I've come to know and admire and learn a lot from over the past 7 or so years. Both of them showed up.

Now, my wife is kind of wary of the people I meet online. I suppose I could understand that at some point, but these people are now some of my best friends in the world. But after these two people came and spent a couple of days with my family, she was moved to observe that *they* showed up, but people who actually did shape who I am in my formative years, not one was there.

My perspective on friends has changed over the years, and I know that some of my friends that I've met online are now my best friends. I still wish to be present with them in person more often, but I highly value their love and friendship, remote as it might be. And we get to talk online, and on the phone, something I don't much do with my old friends, even to this day.

I'm still looking for close (proximity) friends, but I know that I do have close (relationship) friends who I'm lucky and honored to know and call my friends.

Reverb writing #15 - Forgot to remember

2010-12-15T17:52:00.001-08:00

December 15 – 5 Minutes - Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2010 in five minutes. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2010. (Author: Patti Digh)
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I would want to remember my kids in band practice, playing music. My youngest learning an instrument. I would want to remember the time I spent listening to music and dancing with my kids.

I would want to remember my 40th birthday party and all of my friends from my life who were there. They've all had such a huge influence on me, and I wanted them to know how much they've impacted me. It's important that people in my life now know that they have touched me.

I want to remember the support my wife has given me through this rough year, what with me being out of work. She's been very sustaining and knew when to push a little and when to lay back and just let me ride out whatever feelings I was having. She's been an amazing listener and confidant.

I want to remember all the things my parents have done for me and my family this year. It's largely because of them that we're still living in our house and getting our bills paid.

I want to remember my trip to Richmond and the fun I had in only about 48 hours, singing karaoke, drinking with friends, watching the USA in the World Cup, hanging out playing ukelele, staying up until 3 am listening to music.

I want to remember how much I enjoyed the World Cup, the first one that I actually paid attention for.

I want to remember the many people this year who gave me the chance to excel and show that I have worth and can be good at what I do.

Time's up.

Reverb writing #14 - Treasure

2010-12-15T17:44:00.000-08:00

December 14 – Appreciate - What’s the one thing you have come to appreciate most in the past year? How do you express gratitude for it? (Author: Victoria Klein)
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I have come to appreciate my parents more. I have great parents, and I've known that for a long time. I have those parents that seemed strict when I was young, but they weren't. I just didn't know any better.

We've been friends for a long time, but in the past year or so, I've started asking them questions about their lives. I'm curious, because as at my age, being laid off and out of work for so long was humbling, and I began to wonder how they've dealt with adversity.

It's kind of odd that it's taken me so long to look to their experiences to help me figure out my own life. Being out of work for half the year, I wondered what situations they had been in that was similar. I also gave them the opportunity to practice their generosity, as our family finances came up short from time to time.

I listen to them more closely than I ever have, I think. And I'm excited to learn more from them and about them.

I think I show my gratitude by telling them how much they mean to me more. I think I'm more vocally thankful, and I try to let them know that they mean a lot to me.

Wisdom in the basement

2010-12-15T08:56:00.000-08:00

My oldest child and I were having a discussion the other night about how she feels she's seen (or, rather, not seen) by my wife and I. I thought it was a great conversation because she was able to speak honestly about how she's been feeling lately.

We were talking at one point about how my wife and I still talk to her as if she were much younger and still needed to be reminded of everything. She was choosing her words carefully, and there was one statement that stood out for me, and I want to remember that.

"When I was 3, I was little, and small, and 3. But now I'm big, and tall, and 12."

I told her that was one of the smartest, wisest things I'd heard her say. I really met her on that night, in the way that I arrived at where she was, instead of looking at her from where I usually did, as a daughter or a kid or a child. That statement of hers was like the buddha touching the earth, in that it was a statement of "this is who I am right now, not who I was, nor who I will be." And I was able to hear and see that that was what she was saying, and not the simplistic statement it might seem to be.

I met my daughter the other night. Not as a kid, or a child, but as a person. And it was wonderful.

Reverb writing #13 - Journey of a thousand miles…

2010-12-14T12:49:00.000-08:00

December 13 – Action - When it comes to aspirations, it’s not about ideas. It’s about making ideas happen. What’s your next step? (Author: Scott Belsky)
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I was going to start this with some b.s. about getting a job that pays more with room for me to grow in the company, but that's the stock answer.

What's my next step towards being more creative in my everyday life? Towards working with music? That's a good question. There are companies out there that do work in or close to the music industry, and I'm not just talking about record labels or radio stations. The site Beatport is located in Colorado, and I think that would be a really cool place to work, being around music and serving music to people who are also passionate about it.

I was talking to a recruiter the other day and was asked what my ideal job would be, and "music" came up, as it has every time I've asked myself that question or been asked that question since I was in high school. Why I'm not working in music in some way is a mystery to me. I suppose I have some stock answers - I'm not writing about music, because I'd rather be involved in the making of it. That I have a family to provide for, and radio isn't stable, or the record companies are located on the coasts, that music doesn't pay. But that's not really what it's about, it's not what I learned, and it's not what I want to teach my kids.

Ultimately, I want to work someplace where creative things are happening. I can be just as happy and fulfilled helping someone creative realize their ideas & goals as I can doing those things myself. Because being around creative people gives me the ideas and courage to be creative myself, whether it's writing or music.

What's my next step? Taking a step. That step. Any step towards that goal.

Reverb writing #12 - 1 + 1 = 1

2010-12-12T17:47:00.000-08:00

December 12 – Body Integration - This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present? (Author: Patrick Reynolds)
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There actually have been a couple of times. I'm not sure about the first half of the year when I was unemployed - that part is kind of a blur. The second half is more clear. One time would be singing karaoke for the first time. I was in that moment. Actually, I don't think there was an I, there was the song.

Another would be getting back to work, especially the first couple of weeks that the school was open. Working hard, having a lot to do, doing it well…when you're in that zone, you don't really feel any separation of mind and body.

There have also been a couple of times when meditating this year that it has felt like I'm aware of everything around me, but not thinking of me as separate from the world. It's very tough to describe, it's akin to talking about music, trying to describe a beat or how a synth sounds. So we use words like "alive" and "present" and "aware" and "integrated."

Reverb writing #11 - Elimination Round

2010-12-12T15:08:00.000-08:00

December 11 – 11 Things What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life? (Author: Sam Davidson)

I like how this list goes to 11. ;)

1. Stuff. I don't need any more. I can eliminate stuff by continuing to go through what I have and donating or selling the things I don't use on a regular basis.
2. Overspending. I can eliminate this by taking a moment before I buy something, and doing the research to see if I can find what I'm buying for less elsewhere.
3. More nights at home. I need to get out and be in the world. I suppose that I would eliminate them by creating reasons to get out and meet people.
4. Depressed feelings. I'm not going to say I'm depressed - I'm not. I have depressed feelings now and again, and I'm usually okay with them and I try to enjoy them because I'm really a pretty happy guy most of the time. However, being out of work for 6 months this past year, I had some pretty low points. Nothing that lasted too long, but I was just mired in thoughts of not being able to provide for my family, and I was actually surprised by how deep the funks were. I suppose I could eliminate them by putting myself in a position to provide better for myself and my family.
5. I don't need to play less music. I need to play more. (Is it cheating to express things I'd like to do in the negative in order to have it fit on the list? :)
6. Internet. I spend a lot of time on the Internet. To wit, I still have a tab open with Gwen Bell's "Digital Sabbatical" post open, a couple of weeks after I first opened it with the intent of reading it and taking it to heart. How to eliminate Internet? Read the post & do it.
7. More e-mail. I suppose this goes along with Internet, but I need to take advantage of the "unsubscribe" links on a bunch of the e-mails I get. Right now one inbox is at 2383 unread, the other is 1156. When exactly do I think I'll have the time to read them? Eliminate by selecting & deleting.

I'll finish the list later if I think of more.

How will eliminating these things change my life? Probably by increasing my happiness and letting me spend more time with my family and friends.

8.
9.
10.
11.

Reverb writing #10 - Zip it

2010-12-10T09:55:00.000-08:00

December 10 – Wisdom Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out? (Author: Susannah Conway)
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wisdom |ˈwizdəm|
noun
the quality of having experience, knowledge, and good judgment; the quality of being wise.
• the soundness of an action or decision with regard to the application of such experience, knowledge, and good judgment : some questioned the wisdom of building the dam so close to an active volcano.
• the body of knowledge and principles that develops within a specified society or period : oriental wisdom.
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Well, that's somewhere to start, I suppose. One of my favorite sayings is "Good judgment comes from experience; experience comes from bad judgment."

I guess that maybe some of my wisest decisions this year came from keeping my mouth shut. The wisdom to know when not to say something, or not say anything, is a skill it's taken me 40 years to develop. It's not that I'm cowed, or embarrassed, or afraid. I just feel like I have a better handle on when it's useful or helpful to say what I'm thinking, and when it's not useful.

Which isn't to say that I don't speak my mind. I'm not a fan of office politics, and I'm a huge fan of telling the truth as I see it, which I suppose would be my opinion. Everyone has their own version of the truth, and perhaps it's that knowledge that leads me to not saying anything in certain situations. People sometimes feel challenged or insulted by opinions, or "truth."

Many times when speaking lately, I'll pause because I'm trying to make sure that the words I say are skillful and helpful. I know the value of choosing the proper words for the situation, taking into account what the other person is telling me or showing me about how they are feeling. I suppose I've also learned that - to read and listen to the other person and not just shoot from the hip.

In some ways, it's a less me-centric worldview that brings this about. If it's not all about me, then I'm able to view people as they are and the situation as it is.

I think it's wise to wrap this up now. I think I've said enough. Let me know in the comments if you'd like me to clarify or expand on anything.

Reverb writing #9 - Four Oh

2010-12-09T11:45:00.000-08:00

December 9 – Party Prompt: Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans. (Author: Shauna Reid)
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Well, I don't know that the party I'll mention "rocked my socks off," but I will say that my 40th birthday party this year made me really happy. I had two great friends fly in from out of town for it and that was a great surprise. Well, not quite so surprising, as they are good friends. I suppose what's surprising is something that my wife pointed out, that my "best" friends from old school days, none of them had the time/inclination to make it.

The people that were there were some of the people who have influenced me most in my life, women and men who had been my best friends in adolescence and were people who I still love to be around. Some I hadn't seen in years, some I hadn't really been in contact with since our time in high school. One friend in particular I met in person for the very first time the day before, although we had spoken on the phone before. He was the person I knew he would be, and I'm glad we got to spend time together before the party. You know how parties are, you never get to spend too much time talking to one person.

I loved having everyone there, and it was a way for me to say thank you to them for being my good friends for so long. We had wonderful barbecue prepared for us, and I made sure there were vegetarian options there for the non-meat eaters. We drank wine, a little whiskey, talked and talked and talked through the afternoon and into the evening. I don't recall any music, really. I was too busy talking to my friends.

Which was exactly how I wanted to spend my 40th birthday.

Reverb writing #8 - Distinct

2010-12-09T07:37:00.000-08:00

December 8 – Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful. (Author: Karen Walrond)
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This is a difficult one for me, and I suspect I'm not the only one. I feel like we're trained to look for the beauty in other things and for so much of our early lives that "different" is "bad". I guess I was lucky in that I had parents that let me be who I was, but there's still that pressure to fit in when you're young. I've let go of that notion as I've gotten older.

One thing that makes me different is that playing music comes easy to me. Making up little tunes on the guitar or piano has never really been a problem. I don't remember them because I don't return to them and practice them, but I've known plenty of people who say they could never do that.

I think what lights people up is when I help them. I like encouraging people to be the best person they can be, and people naturally respond to that.

This one's short. I guess I'm having trouble seeing what stands out about me.

Reverb writing #7 - Us

2010-12-07T11:43:00.001-08:00

December 7 – Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011? (Author: Cali Harris)
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I'm a member of a few communities online. I don't always feel a part of my community offline, which is to say the town where I live. I defend it when nobody asks me to, and I'm unapologetic about where I live (it's not popular to live in the suburbs, you know).

Where I discovered community this year was at my work. I work at a school, and it's amazing the sense of community, camaraderie and fellowship that I get working here. School spirit has a lot to do with it, probably. People are proud to be here, which makes me proud to be here as well. It helps that I've been well received and people seem to be happy to see me. It's easy doing the work that I do to be seen the hero, but it's even better to be seen as a friendly face. There have been days that I've walked in the building and felt that, yeah, this is where I belong.

The community I'd like to connect more deeply with in 2011 is the Denver/Boulder community. I have met a lot of people through twitter, and everyone's been incredible. I'd like to cement those relationships more during 2011 by just being out and with them more. It's tough sometimes, with my job, family and colitis, but I want to make it out more and be with the good people I've met.

Reverb writing #6 - Soup

2010-12-06T13:03:00.001-08:00

December 6 – Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it? (Author: Gretchen Rubin)
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The last thing I made before this prompt was soup. Butternut squash soup.

I like to think I'm a pretty creative person and that I make things on a regular basis, but the things I make the most of are meals.

This is perfectly fine with me. I love to cook. I've worked a few foodservice jobs in my day. I was the evening cook at College Billiards on El Cajon boulevard for a while. I worked in the snack bar at Tilden Park Golf Course for almost a year.

Cooking is a creative endeavour for sure. Recipes are guidelines for me, not a script to be strictly adhered to. I love "freestylin'" in the kitchen. This has come in handy with the diet I'm on for my colitis - it's pretty strict, but I'm able to mix things up in the recipes to keep things fresh.

Last night's soup was the Winter Squash soup recipe from the Williams-Sonoma New England cookbook. It called for 2 onions, I only used one. It called for a 2.5-3 lb. squash, the one I bought was 4, I think. I followed most of the rest fairly closely. Oh, except I used celery salt instead of celery. Everyone really liked it. We traditionally have that soup on Christmas Eve, but we recently decided that delicious dinner too good to have only one night a year, so we've added it to our meal rotation. (My wife plans out the dinners for the month on a calendar. It's not hard & fast, but it saves the angst around the "what are we having for dinner?" question.)

I'd love to own a pub & grill someday, and work there in the kitchen, and maybe behind the bar occasionally. I think a lot of people have that dream. I have the bar, kitchen & common areas all drawn up, though, with what would go in each section of the bar, how it would be decorated…I suppose it's how I entertain myself instead of going to the movies. :)

So when this question came in last night (btw, I'm very glad that the prompts are coming in earlier, thanks #reverb2010 folks!), I was trying to think of something fabulous I had made recently, a song, or some other project that I could brag about.

I made soup. And it was good.

Reverb writing #5 - Relinquish

2010-12-05T19:10:00.000-08:00

December 5 – Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why? (Author: Alice Bradley)
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This year I let go of five things that cause a lot of consternation and confusion. So it's easy to see why I would have let go of them, and I have to say it's been pretty easy to let them go, and I don't think they'll be making a big time return, although they try to sneak back every now and again. I think Twitter has been the major catalyst in me letting go of these things, actually.

Keeping with my blog title, what I've let go of are - words. Five words.

"Hate" is the first one.

"Sometimes I hate being a girl" "I hate sitting around waiting for people." "God, I so so wanna be a kid again, good times. hate getting older!" - examples from Twitter

Reading that people "hate" things constantly, I realized that I didn't want to sound like that anymore. I don't really hate anything or anyone, so why would I say it? This is bourne partly from my working in buddhist practice as well, because along with no clinging or attachment, it also teaches no aversion. Pushing things away is as problematic as holding on to them tightly. If you hate something, it can become an obsession, which is then a type of clinging. So I've let go of hate.

The next few words are related. First up: "Want"

Wanting things to be other than they really are to the point of distraction is folly. Sure, I want to have millions of dollars, but I don't. Mostly it's about wanting superficial or material things, but I think it helps to just let go of the word. Because when I go to say it now, I pause, and make sure that I'm either using the word in a manner that I'm comfortable with, or that what I'm feeling is not a desire for things to be other than they are.

"Need" is the next word.

More the context of supposedly needing something that you actually don't, especially around the holidays. "Needing" an iPod, "needing" more followers, "needing" a day off. A lot of times things we think we need we don't. We don't often need things beyond food, water, shelter and love, but we seem to make ourselves miserable by thinking we do "need" more and more things. Which brings me to the next word I let go of.

"Deserve"

I hear this word a lot, and I'm not totally comfortable with it. "You deserve to be happy." "You deserve better." "He doesn't deserve you." I don't know that anyone "deserves" anything. I'm reminded of a situation I heard about recently where an elderly person gave some possessions to a family member. Some other members of the family are vehemently opposed to the gift, and are taking punitive actions toward their elderly relative, because they feel they "deserve" the gift instead. It's a form of wanting, and it's a situation of entitlement. Again, I'm not sure that anyone deserves anything, so it's hard for me to use this word, or feel that I "deserve" anything.

Lastly: "fair". As a father, this word is something I hear from my kids. "That's not fair!" I try to teach them that situations are different, and that fair in one situation might not be fair in another. Letting go of this word helps keep me aware, again, that things happen, and there is no ultimate arbiter to say "YOU HAVE BEEN TREATED FAIRLY" or…not. Sometimes situations are not equitable, but we can't expect everything to go our way. It's not the way the world works.

So, I let a few words go. Whenever they try to come back, I stop and see what they want. I've found I tend to do just fine without them.

Reverb writing #4 (I think I'll start doing titles soon…)

2010-12-04T12:59:00.000-08:00

December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? (Author: Jeffrey Davis)
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Hm. I don't feel like I have much to say about this one other than keeping my eyes open and trying to see everything with a fresh set of eyes. "Beginner's mind" as Shunryu Suzuki might say. Or, as he did say: "In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, in the expert's mind there are few."

My children are excellent reminders to see things with wonder. Sometimes it's me trying to instill wonder in their minds, but often it's me trying to see the world from a child's point of view. It seems that often we're trying so hard to be grown up and taken seriously as kids that when we become adults, we've lost some of that ability to notice that the world is an incredible place. The funny thing for me is that now, as I'm 40 years old, I'm able to see more of the world than I have ever been able to. Not by traveling, but just through new eyes. Realizing that I'm not who I was, and what I don't know, and being open to being constantly surprised.

Reverb writing #3

2010-12-03T15:08:00.000-08:00

December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)
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For this year I have two closely related moments where I felt most alive, both were in Richmond, and I wrote about them previously here. But I'll expand a little bit.

Some background. I started tweeting with some people from Richmond, Virginia back in Feb of '08, I think it was. The circle of people that I would have conversations with kept expanding from one person, and pretty soon I was tweeting regularly with 50 or so people from there, enough that I knew their regular routines. Mondays were dollar tacos, Tuesdays were spent at Sticky Rice for karaoke. They seemed like a fun bunch of people, and indeed the first Richmond person I had met on twitter came to Denver in January 2010 to visit his friend who was attending school at the University of Denver. We had a blast, and it was kind of like meeting myself, about 15 years ago.

Fast forward to the summer and I was set to attend a conference in Florida in an attempt to network with some people and try to find routes into an industry I wanted to work in. My family was staying in Virginia at my wife's sister's house, so instead of flying to Florida and straight back, I found that for only $100 more I could catch a JetBlue flight direct into Richmond from Florida. So I decided to spend a couple of days in Richmond (flying in on Tuesday so that I could experience Sticky karaoke) and then go spend the rest of the week & weekend with my family. A short vacation from my unemployment, and it was needed.

Ok, enough background. I had never actually sang karaoke, but I had picked out a song - "Alison" by Elvis Costello - and rehearsed a bit, inserting the names of the people I knew in Richmond instead of "Alison." We had some drinks (duh, it's karaoke) and it finally came time for me to sing.

I wasn't all that nervous, having sang it a couple of times before, and having been in a couple of bands. I like being onstage and performing. It's not egomania, I just think it's fun. But I'm also not going to lie, when I finished singing and people said I did really well, it felt good. There was one of my twitter friends taking pictures and one picture of me turned out really cool, so I made that my profile pic on various sites for a while.

Being up there and singing, and doing it well, and having fun - it was a rush. I remember the red of the inside of the bar - the walls, the booths - the TV in the corner, the air conditioning shooting a cool blast across the middle of the bar. My friends in attendance were catcalling occasionally and it felt like I just disappeared in the moment. I was energy, not that guy or this person, I just - was.

The next night, I was sitting at the apartment of my friend Chad, the first person from Richmond that I had started following on twitter, and the person I had met in Denver. He was out of town on business but was letting me crash at his place. I didn't know quite what I wanted to do that night, if anything. I was napping on the bachelor couch, the hour was growing late, I decided to stay in.

Two friends showed up though, and we were just lazily chatting. The air conditioner blew to cool off the room a bit, but Virginia hadn't seen much rain and was withering through near-oppressive heat. As we talked, we heard a "POP" from outside, and a split second later the lights went out and the air conditioner wound down. Our eyes adjusted slowly to the dark and then the night got real. It's funny how, when all potential distractions are removed, the conversation gains heft, regardless of the topic. Stanley played music on his phone and so we talked about music, but we also talked about relationships and our lives. The night drew on, the air stayed still, we warmed up, the cloth furniture became a bit uncomfortable in the weight and warmth, but we carried on. We were propelled by the night. We sat across the room from each other, but I haven't felt that close to people in a while. I wish our host had been there, too. I wish a lot of people had been there. But in the end, it was just us three, and there wasn't anyone else in the world that night as far as I'm concerned. We were alive, we were loud, we were quiet, we were happy, we were thoughtful, mad, honest.

I've not felt that alive in a while. I've been near, for sure, but I'm trying to learn from it and be more connected to the people in my life, and not just my family, but people I come across in passing. Everybody deserves to be touched. Nobody wants to be isolated.

I want people to feel alive, that they can be whoever they want to be, when they're around me.

Reverb writing #2

2010-12-02T10:14:00.000-08:00

December 2 Writing.
What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?
(Author: Leo Babauta)
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The obvious answer is procrastination, but I suspect the question is about more than that. I do make a lot of excuses not to do things, whether it's writing for myself or getting started on writing my paper for school.

What do I do each day that does not contribute to my writing? I suppose my answer would have to do with not living my life, or avoiding living. What I mean is that my writing is about experiences. Whether personal or fictional, the more experiences I have in the world, the more it will inform my writing and give me details.

I wonder if rewording the question would help. "What do I not do each day that could contribute to my writing?" To mesh above with the "living" train of thought, paying attention to little details could contribute more to my writing. Noticing the minutiae and taking note of them instead of glossing over what might seem like unimportant things. The sideways glance from someone from underneath their bangs. The way she self-consciously slouched as she ate her bagel, looking more like a caged rat than a person with caged potential.

I recall taking trips when I was in high school and I would have a spiral notebook and I would sit and write about the things I saw, the people, their conversations, the things they didn't say, the way they seemed to sit in the world. I haven't done that for a while, it feels like. I think doing more of that could help my writing more.

Reverb writing #1

2010-12-01T09:47:00.000-08:00

"December 1 One Word.
Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?
(Author: Gwen Bell)"

Wow. My initial thought was to say "struggle", because that's what 2010 felt like for me. I was laid off in November '09 and I thought I'd be able to get a job fairly quickly, within a couple of months or so. By the time March rolled around, I had been disabused of that notion.

I had some pretty serious bouts of depressed feelings, but they only lasted a day or so at a time. Really deep craters, though, the like I'm not used to. I tried everything I knew to get a job so that I could be productive and start providing for my family again. Even when I eventually got a job in July (7 months out of work), I continued to look for work that would take advantage of my skills, education and experience. This fall I was offered a position at a place I had been pursuing for almost a year…only for the offer to be below what I'm currently making, which isn't quite making ends meet. So I had to turn down what I had thought would be a dream job. (Honestly, though, it was a junior position, but still…)

However, the more I thought about this challenge, the one word that came bubbling up was "friends". I have made a lot of friends through the years online, but this year that seemed to multiply exponentially. Starting last year with a tweetup I attended last December, then Ignite Denver in March, met a ton of great people in Richmond this summer, had my best friends together for my 40th birthday in August, had dinner last month with another great person and then capped it off by attending an open house where I got to meet more great, lovely people.

2010: Friends.

One year from today…I could say friends again, but I'd like to say prosperity. Maybe I'll temper that to just say "comfort," which implies that there's no more struggle and no more stretching or borrowing, but ease.

2011: Comfort.

Saturday morning

2010-10-11T09:50:00.000-07:00

I was at my parents' house over the weekend, a surprise quick stopover on Friday night on my way to other business up in the mountains on Saturday. I've mentioned before that I have colitis, and since I had an appointment an hour and a half away from where they live, I got up early to let my insides settle out before the drive.

As I stood in the kitchen of my parents' house, my dad came in. It was about 6:30 I think. He said he had just woken up and couldn't get back to sleep.

He stepped outside to get the paper and have a smoke, and I saw him standing out on the back deck surveying the land and wildlife beyond - fairway, mountains, trees, elk. I walked outside and stood beside him. We looked toward the deep glow starting in the east from the sun, which was only just beginning to light. "Should be a good sunrise with those lenticulars out there," he said, raising his hand to gesture towards the few flat, arced clouds that hung above us. His airplane pilot's knowledge of the skies did not obscure the childlike awe in his voice. That was once his domain up there, and he still knew how to read it well.

I recognised the moment as one that I hoped to remember for the rest of my life. My father was purely himself: wise, a cigarette in his hand, patient, explaining. I put my hand on his shoulder. "I love you, dad."

"I love you, too" he said, and we stood there for a few more moments in the autumn mountain air.

Rockin' my socks off

2010-09-01T19:41:00.001-07:00

Here's some of what's been taking care of the sock ejection:

The Entrance Band - Stone Roses mixed with Big Country and the Fixx, After the Fire, The Alarm, 80's U2...crazy awesome. Still getting my head around it.

The Hold Steady - Sure, they've been awesome up until now, but I had never bought an album proper until Heaven is Whenever. Such great words & experiences.

Delorean - Really the album of the summer for me. I think I'll be grooving to this album for a long time. It's what Cut Copy was for me a couple of years ago.

Band of Skulls - Blair turned me on to them, and I've passed them on to quite a few others. Zep meets White Stripes meets Radiohead. What? Yeah.

Best Coast - started to get into them, but then got on the Entrance Band. I have a feeling that BC and Wild Nothing will be my late summer into fall records. Big time.

Foals - I haven't listened to the new record as much as I should, but it's amazing. It's where my afro-wearin' 70's funkmeister meets my skinny jeans indie kid.

Frightened Rabbit - Midnight Organ Fright - a friend of mine has been hounding me to get this record for a while now, and I'm just now finding out he was right. :)

Ok. Now go listen. :)

Tapes in the dustbin

2010-08-29T17:29:00.000-07:00

I've thrown out a lot of old videotapes recently. I'd want to sell them, but nobody's buying.

One of the tapes contained the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame ceremony of the Police, and then a Behind the Music. I *almost* kept that one, but after thinking for a second, threw it out, knowing that I could find it all online probably.

I used to collect all sorts of stuff on videotape, mainly music. Old video shows, concert footage, etc. My wife had every episode of Friends on VHS tape. She threw those out a few weeks ago. Today I found some tapes with more episodes on them, and Oprah interviewing the cast at the end of the series, and just pitched the tape without a second thought. What's to keep?

I can't recall if I've written about the mental benefits of getting rid of stuff that's just lying around collecting dust, but it's nice just being rid of it. Those physical things take up mental space for me, and for most people, I think. I just know in my brain that there is a thing there that I need to keep track of. I brought our old TV inside today and watched bits of these tapes. I maybe kept one. Maybe not.

It's fun to watch old stuff, but I know I can find all of it online, now. If I want to find it. Which is part of the interesting thing to look at for me, is how I used to hoard all this stuff. I used to think it had some utility, or would be useful. I now see it as…stuff. If I really need to find the video, I'll look online. I don't use videotape anymore, so why keep them? Online doesn't have any context, like VJ banter, or commercials (those were fun to watch in themselves), but what context did people use to have, other than that very moment.

Photos and film and video and online storage, they capture the past for us to view again and again.

What's wrong with right now?

Apologies

2010-08-27T22:11:00.000-07:00

Sorry I've been off my words for a while. I have a couple of posts I'm working out in my head, and will hopefully work on them soon.

In the meantime, I'm loving life. Why not, right?

A book, a bed, and closure

2010-07-18T11:27:00.000-07:00

Most of the reading I've done over the past few years has been for my schooling. I'm attempting to get my master's degree in Organizational Leadership, with a concentration in IT. I've learned so much about business and work and leadership, both through class assignments and discussions and looking at the worlds I have worked in.

But this post isn't about all that.

Much of the recreational reading I've done over the past few years has been reading the Harry Potter series of books to my kids. I would do voices and accents, matching as closely as I could the voices of the movie actors, and making up the ones I didn't know.

We would crawl into my bed, flanked on either side by my kids. We started eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, but soon switched to just Jelly Bellys, as the "surprise" flavours were not welcome. Understandable.

I would read a chapter, or two, or three, and then we'd stop and pick up again in a few days. Or a few weeks. Sometimes months. But we'd get back to it. As we would stop for the night, I'd say the name of the next chapter, insert the bookmark, snap the book shut and give it a little shake as I held it in both hands.

We sat down in our basement to read the last few chapters of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" on Friday night. It has been fairly hot here, and the cool air of the basement was very welcome. As we read, though, my oldest asked if we could read the last chapter in bed.

Of course we could. I loved her sense of the history of what we'd been doing, wanting to end as we usually began.

We made our way upstairs and assumed our familiar positions on the bed, me handing out a final batch of jelly beans. We read the last chapter and basked in the finality of the moment.

We made our way downstairs to the main level of our house, chatting about the story. My youngest then stopped for a moment, and asked if I could end the book as I had been doing, with the snap shut and shake.

I smiled, joyed by her sense of history and finality as well. I opened the book, read the last few paragraphs, and snapped the book shut, giving it a final shake. She beamed at me, and it was a fitting ending for a journey that lasted probably four years, seven books, a few thousand pages.

We've watched the movies, but they're a sharp contrast to the detail and fullness of the books. We've discussed this, too. I want them to know the value of reading a book, even if you've seen the movie. It's a different experience, and you get to see things in your head instead of what's onscreen. They've never seen a movie of a Harry Potter book before we've read the book, so they're getting to imagine things before it's defined for them by Hollywood. We finally caught up to the release schedule last fall and went together to see "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince" in the theater, and will do the same for the last two movies in the series.

So, our journey through the pages and words of J. K. Rowling's wizarding world has come to an end. I love creating memories like these. I don't think I do it often enough, but I'm happy that I got to spend these hours with my girls, and I hope I never forget the joy we've all had. I hope they never forget, either.

Cool concept came through

2010-07-16T15:11:00.000-07:00

Started listening to buddhist podcasts again today. Good thing, too, 'cause it kinda blew my mind a little.

I was listening to Stephen Batchelor's "Deconstructing Buddhism" series on Audio Dharma and he was talking about the, well, the site says it pretty well, actually: "Based on an examination of early discourses found in the Buddhist Pali Canon, this class explored the question: "What did the Buddha teach that was distinctively and originally his own?" By differentiating the Buddha's Dhamma from the ideas of Indian religion and metaphysics that prevailed at his time this class sought to uncover a clearer sense of the Buddha's message and then considered what relevance it still has for people living in the modern world. The day was divided between talks, sitting meditation and discussion."

So he gets to talking in Part 4 about a familiar topic to buddhists, that attachment, clinging, craving is the cause of suffering. Then he argues, though, that craving is actually the *result* of suffering. Kind of a chicken or the egg sort of thing, but it made a whole lot of sense to me in that moment.

You feel pain, so you crave that non-pain state. The pain isn't the problem, it's what you want *after* you feel the pain. Or the pleasure isn't the problem, it's that you want more once the pleasure is gone.

It's a slight twist on the idea that craving causes suffering. I crave a non-pain state, so I suffer. Not quite.

Pretty good stuff. Can't wait to hear more. I like Stephen Batchelor :)

Richmond in June

2010-06-28T19:07:00.000-07:00

Some weekends happen in slow motion. Some weekends don't even happen on the weekend.

I landed in Richmond on a Tuesday afternoon. I had help getting from the airport to a bachelor pad in The Fan and sat for a while talking with my ride. The bachelor wasn't home yet, and it was a hot June day.

Soon the bachelor's ride rolled in with a bottle of Jim Beam which went straight into the freezer. More small talk.

The bachelor arrived shortly after, on his phone as usual and busied about the place, washing dishes unbidden. Aaron stopped in with the dog, I was glad for that. We discussed our plans for the evening, afternoon became dinnertime and we made the move to a nearby bar.

Friends rolled in and about the place, our bespectacled waitress brought the food and knowing eyebrows raised. We drank our drinks and ate our orders and saw more friends: Sam, Krystle, Brandi and Alisa, Renata. The bachelor left after a while, claiming he needed to hit the gym. We didn't care, we talked and met more, like Dan and Kate. I was all smiles and why not? I was in the room with old friends I hadn't met, but was in that process.

We had other places to be, so we paid up after a while and went. We arrived almost too late to order sushi, but just in time. We did and ate up, this time with Trevor at the bar. Another table opened up in time for karaoke, we took it and began the night by waiting.

Our waitress was good, though, and the drinks arrived and the bar was hot and loud but the AC cut across the room if you stood in the right place. The singing started after a while and while it didn't start well it soon settled into singalongs.

A bar of women beckoned me to sit and I felt compelled to show my wedding ring right away. The drunker lady at my left seemed either not deterred or too drunk or perhaps solid doses of both. I did well to dodge her after a while and retreated to the safety of my friends, and with them I drank another whiskey. Shari and Jeff were there too, although I think they drank not sang

Our turns came around and songs were sung - Boats and Somebody, Semi-charmed and Shack. My turn came and I belted out Alison, my first time at the mic on a karaoke night.

Another whiskey, more songs, and the bachelor who had shown up and sang turned me toward the corner and down toward the pad.

We turned in to pull the Beam from the freezer and watched Heath's turn as Joker.

Time to sleep.

Awake in the morning, the USA soccer game was starting in an hour and a half, and I didn't know where I was in relation to where I needed to be to watch with more new friends. A new acquaintance from the night before came to my rescue and drove me to the digs where I rolled up with Charlie and Jorge & Rob. Drinks and eats and a late goal brought our spirits up and took us happily into the afternoon at a bar down the street.

Lunch was in order, so we got our drinks and food, sat around talking about digestive disorders while we waited.

The food came and the game was about to start. We finished soon and another ride came to my aid. This time I was carted off to a house south of VCU and we sat in cool air and talked of all things. Some weren't able to show, but we made the best of it, lazily strumming the ukelele. We never ventured to the porch, it was too hot, but it was cool talking about travels and other philosophy. Melissa, Jessica, Ian in the AC.

As the day dragged, I was dropped off at the bachelor's pad again. He had taken off to the City, without me in tow, which was the plan from the start. I dozed in the slight air and felt that the night would swallow me and I would be on my way the next day.

My first ride Krystle came by after a late dinner and we sat and chatted, to soon be joined by my ride from that morning. As we talked into the hot night, the pop of a transformer exploding sounded and the lights went down and out.

Unfazed, we talked by computerlight until the battery died. Still not caring, we talked on as Stanley played DJ on his phone and we laughed at the tunes and the darkness as the time turned into morning.

3am came but the power didn't but it was late for all and after they left I turned the lock on another great night.

I took the train out of town the next day and smiled knowing that I hadn't lived a couple of days like that in a long time. Who knows when I will again, but it doesn't matter. I got to live again.

------
Today is Sunday. The weekend happened somewhere else.

I'm in Houston now, watching planes take off into the humid Texas air and curve towards destinations. A flight delayed prompted the words to spill, so the screen catches them to splay somewhere else.

Birds bathe in the hot afternoon by AC condensation.

My story is done. Save and quit.

Things you find at a garage sale

2010-06-11T08:19:00.000-07:00

It's interesting, the things you find at a garage sale. Sometimes you go looking for specific things, like old books or baby clothes. Sometimes, you're just browsing around and you stumble upon something you didn't know you were lacking.

I wasn't looking at garage sales this week, I was having one. Had one last week, too. My family and I are trying to clear out some clutter, clutter that has kept me parking my car outside in the driveway for over a year. After a year plus of clearing snow off my car or getting in a burning hot car that's been baking in the sun, I tried to make it a little more clear to my wife that this situation needed to change. I'd just prefer parking in the garage, thank you.

In the process of clearing out the clutter, I've tried to take it a step further and get rid of things that I have been holding on to for far too long. Holding onto mentally as well as physically. One item that I've had for years has been an old green army foot locker.

My parents used to go to auctions and buy things, and one of the lots had a bunch of army stuff. I forget what else it had besides clothes and this old foot locker. I wore some of the clothes when I was younger, and took the foot locker to store "private stuff". I bought a combination lock and kept my "valuables" locked up. Valuables which mostly consisted of Playboy or Penthouse magazines, a small bag of shake that was probably oregano, the odd 6-pack of beer or wine coolers, and other knickknacks. Most recently, it held those Surfer magazines (the soft porn had long been jettisoned - what do I need with that stuff now that I'm married?), some Rolling Stone magazines, a puzzle, a collectible Speed Racer mini lunchbox, my German study flashcards, gaming dice, plastic puppets procured as part of a pizza promotion, and some other shit.

The foot locker also contained the only item of an obsession that I had in the late fall months of my sophomore year of high school. Her name was Kelley, and I had kept a gum wrapper of hers, stuck to a piece of notebook paper that I taped to the lid of the foot locker, with the date of the aquisition of the gum wrapper written on it. That remained the only item, as my relationship with Kelley flared and disappeared, but I just left it stuck there. For 25 years.

The other day, I started rummaging through that foot locker to see what I could maybe sell in the garage sale. I've worked recently on switching my mind from "gather" to "disperse" as far as items in my life go, and as I started digging through the old green box, I decided most of it could go. Most of the Surfer magazines went into the recycling, as did most of the Rolling Stones. (I haven't been able to go "cold turkey" in giving up my possessions) The gaming dice now sit in an old mug on my workbench in the garage - I sold the D&D manuals last year, the dice are even more useless now. Not that I ever really used them.

So, in the end, I cleared out everything from that solid wooden box with the pink M-16 painted on top (Not my handiwork), either throwing it out, moving it to a different spot in my life, or recycling it. I looked at the girl's gum wrapper that I had carried around for 25 years, took a picture of it for posterity (and my amusement), peeled it off the inside of the lid and put that in the paper recycling, too. I set the box out on the lawn with the rest of the stuff to divest myself of, and waited.

Yesterday morning, a man drove up in a grey extended-cab pickup truck and started looking around. He spied the old receiver & turntable my mother-in-law had for sale, asked about the price, and bought them. We struck up a conversation, I mentioned that I'm looking for work, he had some suggestions of whom I should talk to; a friend of his, and his wife's company. As he took those items to his truck, I stayed behind in the garage, satisfied with my sale. My oldest child came up to me after a moment and said that he had taken some of the old surfing magazines out of the recycling. I thought that was kind of funny in a nostalgic way and went over to help him find more.

We dug magazines out of the recycling bin and he told me of how he used to have surfing pictures taped up on his walls when he was younger, and I told him of how I did too, and I had actually meticulously removed the collage I had created on the back of the door of my boyhood room, and still had that mass of paper, folded up all these years later.

We smiled and talked some more. He looked at the old issues of the fanzine I used to write for that I also had set out for recycling. I told him about that, he asked if I was still doing rock stuff. I told him no, I still played guitar occasionally, but wasn't into it more. He told me how he knew the drummer for a world-famous rock band, and had gotten back in touch with him on Facebook, and how their families had dinner recently, how it was really cool how his friend was still his friend and not some disappeared rock star. He looked through my box of old cassette tapes (New Order, The Cure, Blancmange, OMD... lots of the soundtrack of my high school days), looked at the foot locker, asked how much I wanted for them. I told him $10 for both. He took the deal and carted them off with the old receiver, turntable and Surfer magazines. As he left, we shook hands, something I don't recall having done with any of my garage sale customers. I think both of us sensed that we traveled similar paths in life, that we were longtime friends who hadn't met yet.

It's interesting, the things you find at a garage sale. The things you stumble upon that you need, but didn't know you were lacking.

Frustration

2010-06-01T08:31:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I'm writing this here blog because I think I'm okay with a turn of phrase, right? I probably haven't shown it as much as I'd like, but let's just agree that it's true. So it's frustrating to me to visit Verizon's website and find grammatical mistakes. I posted this on twitter:

"Horrible copy: 'And if you can find something it can't do, pick up over 38,000 apps and growing each day in the Android market that will.'"

Someone then asked me how I'd rewrite it. Fair enough. Here's what I came up with:

"With over 38,000 apps in the expanding Android market, you can add to our impressive list of features with just a touch."

Verizon: If you'd like to hire me to do this on a daily basis, just let me know. :)

Rocket Science Red contest entry.

2010-05-20T09:52:00.000-07:00

"I said 'lunch,' not 'launch!'"

"I'm sorry I pressed the wrong button, but I don't see what the problem is…"

"The problem is that we're blasting off into outer space with little more than the shirts on our backs!"

"The shirts on our backs and five cases of Caldwell's Rocket Science proprietary red…"

"Really? Well then…we might as well make the best of things. I'm sure it pairs well with freeze-dried ice cream. Pass me a packet of neapolitan."

----------------

Contest here: http://rocketsciencewine.com/contest/2010/

I had a friend named Steve

2010-05-09T21:28:00.000-07:00

once upon those times.

I don't know what happened to him
I can read his handwriting
in my old notebooks
I know him, sure
I could find him in minutes
but did he ever consider me friend
did he ever know
I kissed his girlfriend
did he ever know
I envied his talent
on page
canvas
word
Steve
I once loved you like brother
and today
I don't know where you are

for better
for rotten

I hope you're well
with all my being

Identity

2010-05-03T10:46:00.000-07:00

Do you ever think you're someone, but it turns out that you're someone else?

Do you ever wonder who people think you are?

Do you ever wonder why people think you're someone other than the person you are? Or have always been?

Do you ever wonder if you can hold it all together?

I do.

Songs from Sixteen Candles

2010-04-25T19:05:00.000-07:00

This will be as good of a place as any to list this. I found this list while going through some old notebooks. (Yes, *very* old notebooks…) I remember watching the credits and pausing the tape every so often so that I could read and write down the names of the bands and songs. R.I.P. John Hughes.

Song - Band
Snowballed - AC/DC
Today I Met The Boy I'm Gonna Marry - Darlene Love
Love of the Common People - Paul Young
Kajagoogoo - Kajagoogoo
Happy Birthday - Altered States
Kazooed On Classics - Temple City Kazoo Orchestra
Dragnet
Rumours in the Air - Night Ranger
Peter Gunn
True - Spandau Ballet
Little Bitch - The Specials
Wild Sex in the Working Class - Oingo Boingo
Growing Pains - Tim Finn
When It Started to Begin - Nick Heyward
Lenny - Stevie Ray Vaughn
Whistle Down The Wind - Nick Heyward
Ring Me Up - The Divinyls
Love Theme from The Godfather
Turning Japanese - The Vapors
Rev-up - The Revillos
Farmer John - The Premiers
Hang Up The Phone - Annie Golden
Gloria - Patti Smith
New York, New York
Young Americans - David Bowie
If You Were Here - Thompson Twins
Sixteen Candles - Stray Cats

The scene where they kiss on the glass table to the Thompson Twins song is so classic. Celluloid gold.

"Words mean things"

2010-04-22T10:32:00.000-07:00

Or so I've been told.

Which was kind of insulting, but my response was probably just as insulting: "Words mean what we say they mean."

Words are very powerful things. A friendship of a lifetime can end in moments because of a careless word. A few kind words can turn someone's day around. We've seen it happen, and experienced it.

At the end of it, though, they're just words. You can hug a friend while laughing and say "God damn I hate you, you asshole!" while laughing and they'll likely laugh, too. Depending on how good of a friend they are.

I suppose for me, words don't mean things, actions mean things. Go ahead and rant about the state of your life, the state of the country, or the state of the world. Are you *doing* anything about it? "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" is what we were taught on the playground. Now, while that may be a nice thought, it doesn't always play out that way in real life.

I love words, don't get me wrong. Words inspire me.

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.

-Alfred, Lord Tennyson

I love those words. I love what those words (and the rest of the words in the poem) do to me, how they make me feel. How they make me want to write more poetry, to look upon the world and have it sometimes make me cry because the happy days are gone.

Words also incite me. The words of the unlearned, the uncaring, the crass, rude, and the instigators. Those words, however, I have to let fall away. Because they don't do me any good to hold on to. At times like that, I try to remember words like these: "Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the only one getting burned."

Words mean what we say they mean. The good and the bad. I try to keep the good and let go of the bad.

Long Mistakes (fiction)

2010-04-13T15:54:00.000-07:00

"God's love tastes of gin" she said, sinking deeper into the overstuffed brown sofa.

"You're drunk."

"You're right!" She cackled and brought the glass to her lips again. I imagined that she thought herself some sort of Daisy Buchanan, but it seems that people only fancy themselves wealthy and drunk literary characters, forgetting the rest of the story.

"You need to sober up."

"What for? I don't have to be anywhere. I don't need to impress anyone. Least of all you." She usually became argumentative when drunk and I was an easy target. "Why don't you make yourself useful and go gemme another drink?"

"No."

"Fine. I'll get it myself." She pushed herself up by the arm of the sofa, her skirt clinging to her thighs from static. She swiped her hand across the fabric in an attempt to straighten it, unsuccessfully. Slowly navigating the space between the sofa and low table she made her way into the kitchen and tipped liquid from the green bottle into her glass. "You never get me drinks anymore."

"You've gotten too good at doing it yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm an alcoholic, don't you?" She capped the bottle and squeezed a slice of lime into her glass.

"What do you think?"

"Don't play those bullshit games with me, Mitchell. You think you're so smart. When did you get so smart?"

"Susan, please don't."

"Don't what? You don't. Dammit." She splashed tonic into her glass and padded back to the sofa, pretending her bare feet had heels. I looked down at the cold tile floor in the kitchen.

"You don't even want to look at me anymore" she said.

"You know, I don't. It's just painful." She drank from the glass and set it loudly on the coaster. "Why don't you get some help?"

"Help? I've been asking for help for years. You're no goddam help. I make my own money, I do what I want."

"You're drinking yourself to death."

"I'm having a good time. Everyone had a good time. Everyone 'cept you."

"You're right. I don't enjoy watching people drink themselves into a coma." She purposefully sat forward, grabbed her glass and took a sip, looking me in the eyes during the entire show. "I'm leaving." I said, and took my coat off the back of the chair I was leaning against.

"Go. GO! I'll be better to be rid of you."

"You'll be dead soon." I pulled my coat on and straightened the collar. "Enjoy your communion." I said as I walked out the door.

Her sobs closed the door behind me. I gathered my lapels tighter and lightly stepped down the icy stairs to the driveway.

Sage Advice

2010-04-07T10:19:00.000-07:00

So, I think I mentioned before that I have ulcerative colitis. Look it up if you like. Actually, no, I'll link you to the best article I've read about it lately.

Tonight in my change management class, I brought up the fact that I've been on a special diet for my colitis for about 6 years now. It was a pretty major change, you could say. One of my classmates came up to me after class and told me that they had colitis as a child, and have had multiple surgeries, and they would be happy to talk to me if I wanted to. Well, I want to.

I want to talk about not having to deal with my symptoms anymore. I don't want to think about having my large intestine taken out, but I'm wooed by thoughts of a "regular" life.

The words that have been hanging in my head are the ones I heard from my brother-in-law yesterday. He mentioned that he didn't know if he could do what I do, meaning stay away from the foods that are "illegal" on my diet. I started talking about the flare I'm currently in, and how I'm thinking of other options. Like having my large intestine removed.

I've said for a while that if I hadn't had colitis, I'd be an insufferable prick. Overconfident, pig-headed, and probably overweight, too. Having colitis has taught me humility, empathy, compassion and has also taught me that eating isn't just about stuffing your face.

The sage advice mentioned in the title is the crux of it all, something my brother-in-law said after I mentioned what I've learned from colitis, and that I was thinking about this kind of operation: "You've learned all you're gonna learn from it."

And it's so true. I would not trade this illness, it's informed most every action I've taken in my life from probably 1996, a couple of years after I was diagnosed. Up until 1996, it was an enormous inconvenience and almost killed me. In 1996, I was walking to work from having breakfast with my wife and wasn't able to make it to a bathroom in time. So I've lived in fear (both real and imagined) of that happening again (and again) for 14 years.

In describing my thoughts about having an operation to my wife, I teared up when I started talking about how much better of a father I could be. How much better of a husband I could be. How much better I could provide for my family. It's frustrating to want to be able to do such things, and have them somewhat held just out of reach. All because I have to go to the bathroom.

I have some options. I'm going to explore them. You're welcome to follow along.

Resume the résumé

2010-04-05T15:20:00.000-07:00

I'm having my résumé professionally re-written. Probably more accurate would be to say that I'm having it reconstructed. I have a lot of experience that my current CV doesn't reflect, so I'm going to pay someone to help extract that information and lay it out for me in such a way that will appeal to the places I'm applying to.

Most people, when I tell them that I'm doing this, ask why. Well, a couple of reasons. First, it's tax deductible. I can write it off next year's taxes. (Assuming I have an income to write it off from, that is. :) Second, I think I have a pretty good idea of things I can and cannot do. One thing that I am not very good at is looking objectively at my accomplishments and skills, and then writing them out. One is seeing the forest for the trees, the other is selling myself. I think I can do both with some sort of skill, but not in this format. My current résumé has helped me get some very good jobs, but it's run it's course. It's a modification of an old friend's résumé, and we haven't been very close for probably over 6 years or more, so it's just old.

I'm also working with someone who was recommended by a friend, and my friend seems to have had success with his résumé, so I'm thinking it will be worth it. I'm hoping to get work that I can stay with for quite some time. Work that will be challenging and is in an industry that I'm interested in. Hopefully, this résumé reconstruction will help.

Mind the gap

2010-04-01T16:08:00.001-07:00

Twitter user @bitterrootbadge recently tweeted:

Are certain strains of Buddhism in the West overusing the word 'mindful' to the point of rendering it virtually meaningless?

This got me to thinking about certain words that get overused. Not words like "like," used as crutches to conversation instead of silence or thought. More like words that we hear too much. "Change" from the election. Or "weapons of mass destruction".

Those are words that, from sheer repetition, start to numb us to their true meanings. "Change" sounds good as a presidential campaign buzzword, a positive thing. Truth is, though, most people resist change. "Weapons of mass destruction" is so vague that it loses any power.

But I don't think that "mindful", as mentioned above, is necessarily in either of those categories. I think that "mindful" can have a boomerang effect, bringing attention back to the topic at hand. Almost like a key word when someone is out of hypnosis, it can cause us to bring our attention back to what we're doing, whether it's reading or listening or watching - whatever.

Besides, there are some words I don't think you can use enough: kindness, compassion, mindfulness, care, and the most significant one of all: Love.

We can be heroes…

2010-03-23T10:41:00.000-07:00

This article first appeared in Three Hundred Sixty Degrees, a fanzine I wrote for while living in San Diego, in 1993. The magazine was published by Jeff Motch. I'll blab on more at the end.

matthew sweet

Mecca. Jerusalem. The Coach House. People make pilgrimages at crucial times in their lives, and mine was to the latter to meet Matthew Sweet. Mohammed. Christ. The hyperbole may weigh heavy upon his shoulders, but he will always be sort of a savior to me. About one and a half years ago I had musical differences with the band I was in (read: I got kicked out) and I started to wonder about my abilities and talents. Maybe some people don't care about how well they might do what they do, but I was kind of let down. "Evangeline" was the song that kicked off my gospel - I heard it on KCR. In reading the liner notes, I found that Matthew played nearly every guitar on the album, bass included, and wrote and sang every song. The idea that I could be like that, almost a one man band, appealed to me in my feelin' sorry state.

As a result, I sat in my apartment a lot, trying to write something slightly cohesive, while experimenting with guitar leads over the Richard Lloyd/Robert Quine lead guitar on "Girlfriend," Sweet's breakthrough album. I learned how to play guitar much better, more or less, thanks to that album. I then acquired the "Girlfriend" CD-5 and "Goodfriend," a promotional CD that showed more of Sweet's talent - home versions of songs with him playing drums as well as lead guitar. Mix his so-depressing-they're-uplifting lyrics with some personal problems I was having at the time, and yeah, I basically thought the guy walked on water. I even thought of writing a letter to him, but didn't, thinking "Why would he care what I had to say?"

So then I heard a new album was in the making. I called Zoo to see if I could get an interview, and they were pretty warm about the idea. Almost five months later, after attempting to get something together, after the release of his album and two videos, after much patience from the people at Zoo, after thinking that it would never happen, I found out he would be playing the Coach House, the closest he would get to San Diego for a long time. I set the interview up, showed up for the post-soundcheck chat and sat down with a personal hero.

"Why aren't I reading _his_ words, then?" you ask. "Why all the hero worship? I mean, that's so uncool, you geek." Yeah, I know. But in the mad, zany, kooky world of karma, I must have made fun of a retarded kid or smiled when I heard somebody I didn't like died, because the pause switch on my tape recorder was on for most of the interview. Justice had been done, and I felt like King Geek Boy in front of someone who healed my lovesick mind more than a few times. He couldn't have been nicer, telling me to have his record company reschedule another interview, but the steam had been taken out of me. Most people would jump at the chance to talk to their hero again, but I felt that there wasn't any point. (I really want to stress the fact that I'm completely rational about these things, I mean I never expected him to invite me on-stage or anything, but those are the things you dream about, and I don't think I would've felt happy with anything less. You could say I have unusually high hopes.)

Things I did learn about him (mostly from memory and a bit of taped stuff, so don't sue me):

He was interested in Mitch Easter, the producer of "Radio Free Europe," not necessarily R.E.M., when he met them after a show in Nebraska.
He met Lloyd Cole through Fred Maher, his longtime friend/collaborator. Lloyd suggested doing a one-night Beatles cover band.
MTV didn't really like his video for "Ugly Truth Rock," which was a tribute to a movie I can't remember. He ended up directing the video after arguing with the co-director.
The strange organ-like sound on the Sweet Relief benefit album is a backwards and sped-up steel slide guitar.
His song on the No Alternative album is "Superdeformed," the B-side to "Girlfriend." And speaking of that, he did meet the "Teenage Female" girl once, although she no longer writes.
Some of the tracks on the album version of "Someone to Pull the Trigger" were recorded at the BBC session that appears on "Goodfriend."
An actual quote? Okay.

Is the stuff you write really as personal as it sounds?
"Well, it's personal, but it's not technically personal, so you can't think each thing was happening to me in my relationship. But the feeling in the song is personal. It's kind of a hard thing to describe to people, the difference. I'm not saying it's not personal, but it's not autobiographical. Except emotionally."

He didn't seem to have a clue as to what was happening with how the record company was releasing his singles off Altered Beast. Not that he's stupid, he just didn't know what song they would release next, nor could he confirm or deny rumors of a box to hold the five singles from the album, color coded to match the five different CD covers. It seemed like he still doesn't have much control of what's happening around him regardless of the fact that he's the sole creative force.

So what does it all mean? Well, I don't think people should "kill their heroes." Then we'd have nothing to aspire to. I learned that heroes are people, too, and as dippy as it sounds, I guess what I mean to say is that I think musicians go from being excited that other people like their music, over a media-hype publicity edge, to a place where they know these kids look up to them, but they're people after all, and can't they have a few minutes to themselves? I think if he had known how I felt going into the interview, Matthew might have told me to settle down a bit, that he doesn't like all the attention, that he's a very shy person from Nebraska who happened to get lucky. Very lucky. And that it may happen for me someday, but it may not. It may not happen for him any more, but that might be okay. And that while a savior can help, he can't cure all that ails you, so don't expect him to.

Yeah, I'd still like to play with him someday, but on equal terms. Which means either he's comin' down

or I'm goin' up.

---------------------

The Aforementioned More Blab:

I don't think I've looked up to people in that way since then. I might admire someone's talent, but I don't really have any "heroes" per se.

"4 : an object of extreme admiration and devotion : IDOL"

That's pretty hefty to lay on someone. As to why it's sports figures and musicians and actors a lot in our society, I don't know. They're the ones we see all the time. But I think it takes some growing up to see that everyone's fallible. Like that episode where Bobby Brady idolizes Jesse James and then has a dream where Jesse kills the whole Brady family.

Final thought: I think everyone needs to work on themselves, to be a hero to themselves. Looking outside yourself won't work.

Moving right along…

2010-03-23T06:58:00.000-07:00

I saved an article that I read last week because it sparked an idea. I opened this window to write and went back and read the article to find the nugget of what I wanted to write about…and found nothing. I agree with the things Bill writes about, but I know that there was one idea that it had sparked me to write about.

I re-read the article, thinking that I must have missed the quote or blurb that had inspired me in the first place. It's the same article, it must still be there.

But it's not.

Which I think is kind of the point, as well. Impermanence is all around us. Hell, impermanence *is* us. The article is the same, but I'm not.

I always note when I have a creative spark and want to save that bit for later, bottle it up and then release it upon the world in all its brilliance. So frequently, however, "later" never comes. There's always another job to apply for, a post to respond to, a dinner to make, a store to go to, a book to read, an essay to write for school. What I need to do is start - the phrase I first thought of was "be a slave to my creativity," but that's expressed negatively, and I like to note when I have the chance to express myself positively. I'd rather answer the call of my creativity.

Play that guitar. Write those words. Paint that feeling. (I don't paint, but why should that stop me?)

We're all impermanent. This house I sit in will fall someday. These words I write will be erased off of a disk someday. (I've already killed a previous blog) I don't want to be a slave to anything, I want to open up, outwards, and express the thoughts and feelings I have in whatever way they're calling for. I don't think I'm striving for permanence. Permanence is a concept that I chuckle at whenever I really think about it.

I don't want to be read when I'm dead, I'd prefer to be read now, and have conversations now, and live and love and play with my kids now.

Because someday, "now" will be a memory and so will I and it won't matter then.

Thanks for the inspiration, Bill.

Alex Chilton 1950 - 2010

2010-03-17T23:10:00.000-07:00

Words about as simple as can be, but lovely, and moving.

Thirteen, by Big Star:

Won't you let me walk you home from school

Won't you let me meet you at the pool

Maybe Friday I can

get tickets for the dance

and I'll take you

Won't you tell your dad, "Get off my back"

Tell him what we said 'bout 'Paint It Black'

Rock 'n Roll is here to stay

Come inside where it's okay

And I'll shake you.

Won't you tell me what you're thinking of

Would you be an outlaw for my love

If it's so, well, let me know

If it's "no", well, I can go

I won't make you

Getting through the weeds.

2010-03-16T08:54:00.000-07:00

"Well, I been lookin' real hard and I'm tryin' to find a job
But it just keeps gettin' tougher every day"

-Steve Miller, "Rock 'N Me"

The part that gets tough is the part where I feel pulled in two different directions. One way is my past career, Information Technology. I've been working in support for about 8 years now, mostly Macintosh focused, and it's been good. I've been an IT Manager at the last two companies I worked for, the pay was decent and I had some good opportunities to learn and grow.

The other way, however, is my inclination to move more towards writing and other creative endeavours. I've not been paid for them much, but it's where I have the most fun.

I'm working towards my Master of Professional Studies at the University of Denver. The concentration is Organizational Leadership with an emphasis in Computer Information Systems. My wife asked a critical question when I started looking at writing & creative jobs. "Why are you going to school, then?"

Well, I want to finish what I started. Hopefully, that will be at the end of this year. Part of me still looks for IT work. The other part of me is looking for something that I think will be more fulfilling, and that's feeding my creative side.

But that's what I need to find out. I know the devil of IT work. I don't know what creative work is like, as I've never done it. So I suppose there's some fear there that could be holding me back from jumping in with both feet. I'm taking baby steps here and there and trying to find out more about what it's like to work in advertising, marketing or public relations, or corporate communication. I need to take longer strides.

"I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number"

-The Police, "Dead End Job"

That's pretty succinctly it, right there. I don't have a need or a want to be famous, but I'd like to create and write and play music and be fulfilled that way. Can I do that and still provide for my family?

We will see.

From new to old…

2010-03-10T18:33:00.000-08:00

I decided to post some of my old music reviews here tonight, just to have some of my own creative writings on here. There are other things I'll post eventually, but this is just to post something besides crabbing about words. :)

These are some old album reviews I did for my friend Jeff Motch's 360° Magazine, a music fanzine from San Diego. I worked with him on it a bit for the time we were roommates, but it was his baby. I wrote and I think edited some stuff. He would bounce ideas off me, but I was never taken seriously. Jeff, however, is a great artist. Go check him out and hire him (Lively and Motch) and go to his pub (the Blind Lady Ale House) in San Diego.

Now, some of my unpolished record reviews from 15 years ago:

weezer- weezer (DGC)
According to the CD package, this was recorded in August & September of ‘93. So my question is why did it take so long for me to get around to paying attention to it? I guess I liked the “undone” video okay, but can you argue with the clip for “Buddy Holly?” Having little else to go on but those songs, I popped my roommate’s promo copy into his car CD player and fell in love. (No, not with my roommate, smart ass. But there is something about his strawberry fields...I digress.) This CD kicks ass. Totally and completely. From the lonely guy anthem “The World has turned and left me here” to, well, to the lonely guy epic “Only in dreams.” And to add insult to my tardiness, they came through the Bay Area about three times last year and I missed every show. But something about this band makes people hate ‘em. Fuzzpop fuff? Dumb lyrics? So what? I say Viva Fuzzpop fuff! Great lyrics written in about eighth grade! I say weezer!

Oasis-Whatever single (Creation Records)
A new single from the group every American critic is panning because of their live show, or utter lack thereof. I must admit, they could at least move on stage, but y’know, now that I think about it, it’s kind of a good strategy. Instead of playing up to the expectations of this MTV generation and throwing instruments into amps, their lethargy draws attention to the music. Interesting concept, eh? It gets you off your ass, if only to throw something at them, or to walk out, or to shake that ass to the tambourine beat. “Whatever” is one of those Beatle-esqe anthems designed to make you feel better about your crappy life, and it appears that Noel Gallagher, the songwriter, steps in front of the mic and replaces his younger brother to sing on “Half The World Away.” Still good stuff. Don’t look, listen.

Velvet Crush - Teenage Symphonies to God (Epic)
No, I don’t just like these guys because they cover a Matthew Sweet song (“Somethings Gotta Give”), or just because their drummer (Ric Menck) has worked with said Sweet since the 80’s. I like ‘em because they have a 60’s crunch-pop sound that they toss with some slow country flavor. And I’ll repeat myself- NOT the wuss crap that flows out of Nashville like most of that 90’s R&B crap, devoid of feeling, full of air. I’m talkin’ ‘bout true country, like Gram Parsons, Uncle Tupelo, stuff that ain’t afraid to swing a steel guitar or let a fiddle cry in your beer with you . And speaking of beer, they have one hell of a live show that the people at Epic apparently don’t want you to see, because they pulled the tour support out from under the band at the end of their outing with -get this- JAMC and Mazzy Star? Anyway, check it out and love it. If those morons at the CD stores will let you return anything you don’t like, then whattaya got to lose, sizzlechest?

Goo Goo Dolls - A Boy Named Goo (Warner Bros.)
Just as I was getting ready to write this review, I get a package in the mail from my friend at Warner and find out that the drummer left (or was kicked out), a song is gone from the CD version, and I get a tape of the new version with two new songs. Ahhh, the virtues of pre-releases. At least I know who the producer is, if nothing else. Lou Giordano was at the helm of this new Goo revue and it comes off sounding a lot like Don’t Tell A Soul era Replacements. Not that the Goos ever didn’t sound like the ‘Mats, so this is prety much keeping the faith. It’s a pretty good idea that they took the song “Stand Alone” off, because it basically copped the melody from “I’ve Been Waiting” by Matthew Sweet. Whether intentional or not, it was damn close. The two new songs that have been added don’t even belong on the album, “Disconnected” is a more punk style than all the other songs, and “Slave Girl” sounds like a lame attempt at a 50’s novelty song like “Alley Oop.” Maybe there’s a joke I’m not quite getting, but I think they should have taken “Stand Alone” off, left it at that, and it would’ve been a strong album. Make that is a strong album, with two crappy songs tagged onto the end.

What's wrong with being a little new?

2010-03-09T08:56:00.000-08:00

This morning I read a blog post on TalentZoo.com titled "Why Your Brand Doesn't Need A Social Media Expert". I would never call myself a "social media expert" - with apologies to those who are social media experts and might refer to themselves that way, it just sounds too, erm, douchey. To me.

However, I would like to enter that world - working as someone who manages social media for brands or accounts, in addition to other copywriting. I don't have a degree in Marketing or PR or journalism, but I do have a BA in English, and I have been online for the life of the World Wide Web as we know it, and even before that.

What I read in the article that brought me here to write was the feeling I got from the author, Sean Duffy. From the article:

…I hope my audience will understand that if they need help evolving their marketing program to address these changes, they do not require the services of a social media expert. They require the services of a marketing expert who understands social media.

Even marketers who are new to social media would be a safer bet. After all, it’s more likely that a marketing expert could catch up on two or three years of social media developments than a social media expert could compensate for 20 or 30 years of missing marketing experience.

We all bring our own history to our opinions, and in this quote I saw him saying "Don't even try it, pal. You don't have the experience." And as stupid as it sounds, that hurts. Maybe I'm too attached to the idea of wanting to work in social media. I understand his point - you don't acquire skill by *not* practicing and doing. But I want to practice, and do. Sure, it took me a while to figure out the track I'd like to take in my life & career, but does that mean that at this point I'm stuck outside the country club gates?

All this leads me to the question - what do I have to do? What am I missing? What do I need to know?

Do you have any answers for me?

I'm doing a lot of reading. It's been an investigative 4 months since I was laid off. I've created this blog as a place for me to talk about these questions and hopefully, eventually, get some feedback. Please feel free to leave some of your own words, if you like.

I'm a little new. Only one owner. But I think that has it's advantages. I'm not jaded or burnt out or filled with stale ideas. I enjoy connecting with people, and I'm pretty good at doing so on the Internet, if I do say so myself. I have experience, I've just not written as a job, for money. I'm happy Sean has for so long and can lend his expertise to companies.

I'm hoping to bring my expertise to work, too.

EDIT: So, interestingly, just today I found that there's a Denver PR company who staffs only with people that have 10+ years of experience and even goes so far as to say "As such, we do not have an internship program available."

*waves at all the people relaxing in the chaise lounges by the pool & playing golf*

Words fail me.

2010-03-08T18:49:00.000-08:00

They fail all of us, actually. All the time. People search for the right word, they stumble over phrases, we know it's on the tip of our tongue.

Which is why finding the right word is so crucial. The right word at the right time. You said "obstreperous," but that word might miss the mark and fly right over your reader's or listener's head. Maybe next time use "noisy," or "out of hand."

When I'm really working on some text, I pore over the words that I use. I avoid using phrases like "fine tooth comb." True story: I read John Grisham's The Firm in the summer before I graduated college. I came across the phrase "…the tension could have been cut with a knife" and I closed the book. As an English major and creative writer, I took offense that this bestselling author could get away with using one of the textbook examples of an awful cliché. I got over myself and eventually finished the book, but I was really surprised that not only the author, but the editor as well, had let the phrase stand.

Grisham, however, was a lawyer by trade. He wasn't a "writer," he was a storyteller. And there's a difference. We've all seen people who can write technically well, but the text is missing that…something. Flow. Cadence. And some people go beyond being able to string pretty words together well and can tell a *story*. Like the one I told above. That was a short story, but a story nonetheless. A good storyteller will draw you in and connect with you to create a shared experience. We've also seen the person stumble over a joke or a story at a party and we feel badly for them, because most of us have been in that unpleasant position. The good storyteller will have people listening and laughing and, when you've made a connection, people will want to tell you their stories as well.

Words, by themselves, can fail us. But a well-told story is a success for not only the storyteller, but the listeners, too, because they can create a conversation. Shared stories. And the more stories we share with each other, we then start to label each other "friend," which is the biggest success of all.

Can I relate? Publicly?

2010-03-06T15:46:00.000-08:00

I'll be writing about some topics because they interest me in relation to my writing and how I can potentially put this talent to use. I have a long career in information technology, and I'm currently attending school for a Master's degree, but it was after my layoff in November '09 that I started looking inward at what I really want to be doing as a career.

As I examined my time in the workplace, I realized that I would feel most alive when asked to edit something, write something, help the marketing team brainstorm. There was joy in that work. Creating. Thinking. Arguing. Moving forward.

So, one of the fields I'm looking at that would make use of my writing skills is Public Relations. As I consider this field, I wonder: Could do it, after having been subjected to it for years? I don't mean ethically (although PR does have an ethics component to it, for sure), but that after years of digesting PR messages, would I be able to turn around and create a campaign for a product or company without recalling the many campaigns I've seen over my life and not think "Oh, this has been done before. A LOT."

I suppose I could. I mean, that's what this blog is, essentially. It's how I'm relating to you, the public. It's how I'm wanting to present myself and the way I write in order to show someone: "Here! I can do this! See? Hire me!"

But hopefully not in a pathetic way. :)

Why?

2010-03-04T20:46:00.000-08:00

I write.

I've been writing for a long time. The earliest story I recall writing was called "Ghosts & Goblins Corner" when I was in 3rd grade. I drew pictures and everything. I'm sure it was for an assignment, I never wrote much on my own until I got to high school. But I'm getting a little ahead of myself.

I remember writing a story about a race car driver around 6th or 7th grade. Or was that in 8th grade? Mrs. Wyatt was my 8th grade teacher and was the first person I recall being interested in my writing. We would write journals and I started a storyline with characters who's names started with the letter "h". Herman, Henrietta, etc. What I did was make the titles almost the entire page, telling the whole story. The body of the story was a line or two. Funny stuff. :)

In high school, I met a girl named Michelle who wrote free-form poetry. I'd never seen that before - just feelings, metered out onto the page. I started copying her, of course. Aping her style. I wrote a lot like that, for a long time. Well, until college, anyway. I would write one page (usually no more), wringing my heart onto the page.

In college, I was an English major, creative writing emphasis. Poetry & short stories. I had the idea then that to be a writer was to live a tortured existence, banging out prose and hoping that you hit it big, but in the meantime being poor. It never occurred to me that there were other jobs in the world where creative writing was needed. Advertising, PR, marketing, etc. Also, that was before the Internet, so you had to figure that these jobs existed before you could look for them.

To me, advertising was Darrin Stevens and his boss Larry Tate. A little magic, a smooth pitch, stabbing your hand in the air to visualize a headline - POOF! Advertising. This, I knew, was not real. But it didn't occur to me that people worked to write that copy, to turn that phrase. That I could be one of those people.

Then again, I always had a healthy distrust of advertising. Marketing, too. Pushing your product on an unsuspecting public. Trying to swindle people out of their hard-earned cash.

Fast forward, and when the reels stop (yes, I'm using old tape metaphors) we're in 2010. I now see advertising as more of an art than a grift. There are beautiful pictures, lighting set just right. The right words, placed correctly. Marketing and communications can be helping people or companies express themselves correctly to the public.

I suppose that's what this blog is. Me marketing me. Advertising me. This is what I can do. What I have done, what I will do.

So what does it mean to be a writer? Why write?

To express myself, sure. But also to say something, which assumes one has things to say and you're not just knocking on a hollow keg to hear the sound of the echo inside.

I have been writing online for quite a while, about eight years, more or less. I've been online for, gosh. 25 years? Really. CompuServe, then eWorld, AOL, then the Internet really got into swing. I know my way around online communication. I know my way around communication.

But another writer? Really? Is that what the world needs?

I don't know, and I don't care. It's what I do, and I'm good at it. I'd like to make my living at it someday, but for now, I'm just playing. Playing with words.

What's a manifesto?

2010-03-02T07:55:00.000-08:00

Seems my Apple dictionary says "a public declaration of policy and aims, esp. one issued before an election by a political party or candidate."

Well, I'm not running for office, but the first clause fits.

My Manifesto for Words: Only words.

Expressed negatively: No pictures.

My idea for this blog is to explore topics with words, like I've done before elsewhere. This is just a more public expression of those endeavours.

This isn't to say that I won't ever link to a picture, maybe. Or if I end up having ads off to the side, there might be pictures there. Or on my profile. Or in the header. Pictures are worth a thousand of these little squiggly lines, eh? But the posts, my aim is to have only text.

Words.

Topics of Conversation

2010-03-01T14:56:00.000-08:00

Let's see...I'm a father. I'm a husband. I've worked in IT for years. I have ulcerative colitis. I've been in a few bands, but none recently. I like to use Macintosh computers. I have too much stuff.

I also have loving parents. Wonderful kids. A great marriage.

Life is good. But I still need to write.

What about you? Who are you?

Testing…testing…3…2…1

2010-02-28T21:07:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Words.

I'm Sam.

Thanks for taking this walk with me.

I plan on writing words. About words. I'm fairly good at it. I'm hoping this will become something.

I may post stories I've written in the past. I may post poems I've written in the past. Songs. Stories. It's all fair game.

It's time.

Hi.