Looking At The Front Door
A long time ago there was a song by a group called Main Source called “Looking At The Front Door.” It’s a rap song about a guy who keeps fighting with his girlfriend and he keeps looking out the front door and wondering if he had the guts “to evacuate” would things be any better for him.
That song came out probably when I was a senior in high school, so around 1991. I always thought it was a pretty decent song, nothing great, just a good beat and whatever it was that got me amped on hip-hop at that time. Now it means something completely different to me. I like how that happens. How a song that I literally haven’t thought of in AT LEAST 8 years suddenly pops into my head and has an immediate meaning to me in my life even though it never meant anything to me back when it was released.
I love music for just that reason.
I just looked up the lyrics and they are not really that brilliant and really they don’t have that much to do with my current situation. They are passable, but nothing earth shattering except for the imagery of the guy looking at the front door and figuratively wondering what is on the other side of it. I do that all the time. I have said many times before that my absolute FAVORITE thing in the world to do is leave. I love leaving. I usually don’t even care where I’m going as long as I get to leave.
Walking out the front door is the beginning of something. Anything. But it is the beginning. Every time you open the front door you have January 1st and the opportunity to start over. You never know what is on the other side of that door. Usually it is work and normal, everyday bullshit and stuff that you can’t really change, but some days you actually get something new and unusual and something worth the effort of turning that door handle.
I often wonder what it would be like to have every day be something different and new. Maybe that would take away the allure of getting to leave only on special occasions. But that mixture of excitement and the unknown really has an effect on me right down to my soul. I sometimes think I should have become a truck driver so I could constantly be leaving somewhere, but I haven’t come into contact with too many truck drivers that I would want to hang out with so that always kept me from pursuing that line of work. But if I could find a job where all I got to do was walk out the front door I would be the happiest little camper in the world.
Anybody ever heard of a job like that? Because it seems as though all I do anymore is look at the front door and wonder what kind of things I could accomplish on the other side instead of actually walking out that front door and doing something with myself. Maybe those guys will come up with a sequel that tells what they found on the other side of that door so I can put my mind at ease.
Or maybe I can just walk out that front door and find out for myself.
B!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
500 Words A Day-Day 8 "The Me-First Generation"
It’s funny how stuff works out. I wonder sometimes if everything we do is some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy or if fate just happens to jump up right at the exact moment we were wondering if there was such a thing.
Today I was contemplating what my topic was going to be for this essay since it seems that all I do is complain about how I am not where I want to be in pretty much any facet of my life. Then on my drive home I came across so many assholes on the road that I started to think about how it seems like everyone has a “me first” mentality these days. I know that I shouldn’t base my assumptions on the entire human race on the people I come across on my daily commute, but those are the people I have to deal with the most so I feel like they constitute EVERYONE even though, deep down, I know they don’t.
What I consistently notice is that the drivers in this area don’t give a shit about anyone else they come into contact with. All they do is try to get to their destination as fast as possible even if it means breaking laws and breaking common rules of decency. I will admit that I try to be as low-key as possible behind the wheel. If you haven’t acted like a dick I will let you into my lane as long as you signal. I will wave you through if we are waiting somewhere and you need to get in, etc.
But then I come across these fucking douchebags who change lanes in school zones, speed through the school zones, pass buses, change lanes without signaling, don’t come to complete stops at lights or stop signs, etc. Fuck them. They are EVERYWHERE and I’m tired of it. The lights are on a timer people. If you do the correct speed they will always be green for you and you won’t have to slam on the gas to get up to 60 MPH in a 45 zone and then slam on your brakes because the light changed color. Guess what dickhead, I was doing 42 the whole time and if it wasn’t for you and your lane changing, brake slamming assface I wouldn’t have to touch my brakes at all during my 12 mile commute. But I always end up hitting my brakes because these people have to cut me off to get one car length ahead of me.
I have grown to accept that I will face this EVERY time I leave my house, but today on my way home from the gym I came across a guy who very nearly made me lose my laid back façade and go fucking APE SHIT on him. I pulled up to the gate in my complex (I live in a gated community right smack dab in the shittiest part of Mesa) and entered my code. A guy pulled in behind me and as I was entering my code he pulled up next to me so when the gate opened he got in the gate first, causing me to hit my brakes to let him in.
Seriously?! Now, my first instinct was to ram his car. I came about a foot from doing that. Remember, I am on my way home from the gym so I am already a little jacked up on testosterone so I am closer than I normally would be to losing it already. Normally I turn left when I go into the complex but this fucker turned right so I followed him. He knew I was following him so he sped up and flew around the corner. I came around the corner too and he parked, jumped out of his car and started running into his house. I slammed my car into park in the middle of the road and jumped out, screaming, “What the fuck is your problem dude?!” He just kept running to his house. I screamed, “I fucking DARE you to try that shit again with me man! I will FUCK YOU UP!”
It literally took EVERY bit of self control I had not go chase him down to his house and leave him lying in a pool of his own blood and piss. Man, I’m too old for shit like that to have that much of an impact on me. If I was a “me first” kind of person he would be severely injured and I would probably be in jail right now.
I guess it’s a good thing I still have some self-control. But if that fucker ever does that again . . .
B!
Today I was contemplating what my topic was going to be for this essay since it seems that all I do is complain about how I am not where I want to be in pretty much any facet of my life. Then on my drive home I came across so many assholes on the road that I started to think about how it seems like everyone has a “me first” mentality these days. I know that I shouldn’t base my assumptions on the entire human race on the people I come across on my daily commute, but those are the people I have to deal with the most so I feel like they constitute EVERYONE even though, deep down, I know they don’t.
What I consistently notice is that the drivers in this area don’t give a shit about anyone else they come into contact with. All they do is try to get to their destination as fast as possible even if it means breaking laws and breaking common rules of decency. I will admit that I try to be as low-key as possible behind the wheel. If you haven’t acted like a dick I will let you into my lane as long as you signal. I will wave you through if we are waiting somewhere and you need to get in, etc.
But then I come across these fucking douchebags who change lanes in school zones, speed through the school zones, pass buses, change lanes without signaling, don’t come to complete stops at lights or stop signs, etc. Fuck them. They are EVERYWHERE and I’m tired of it. The lights are on a timer people. If you do the correct speed they will always be green for you and you won’t have to slam on the gas to get up to 60 MPH in a 45 zone and then slam on your brakes because the light changed color. Guess what dickhead, I was doing 42 the whole time and if it wasn’t for you and your lane changing, brake slamming assface I wouldn’t have to touch my brakes at all during my 12 mile commute. But I always end up hitting my brakes because these people have to cut me off to get one car length ahead of me.
I have grown to accept that I will face this EVERY time I leave my house, but today on my way home from the gym I came across a guy who very nearly made me lose my laid back façade and go fucking APE SHIT on him. I pulled up to the gate in my complex (I live in a gated community right smack dab in the shittiest part of Mesa) and entered my code. A guy pulled in behind me and as I was entering my code he pulled up next to me so when the gate opened he got in the gate first, causing me to hit my brakes to let him in.
Seriously?! Now, my first instinct was to ram his car. I came about a foot from doing that. Remember, I am on my way home from the gym so I am already a little jacked up on testosterone so I am closer than I normally would be to losing it already. Normally I turn left when I go into the complex but this fucker turned right so I followed him. He knew I was following him so he sped up and flew around the corner. I came around the corner too and he parked, jumped out of his car and started running into his house. I slammed my car into park in the middle of the road and jumped out, screaming, “What the fuck is your problem dude?!” He just kept running to his house. I screamed, “I fucking DARE you to try that shit again with me man! I will FUCK YOU UP!”
It literally took EVERY bit of self control I had not go chase him down to his house and leave him lying in a pool of his own blood and piss. Man, I’m too old for shit like that to have that much of an impact on me. If I was a “me first” kind of person he would be severely injured and I would probably be in jail right now.
I guess it’s a good thing I still have some self-control. But if that fucker ever does that again . . .
B!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
500 Words A Day-Day 7
Ugh, I just feel “off” today. Not necessarily sick or anything, just not quite at full strength. I’ve had a bit of a chest cold going on I think. It took me a few days to realize that I was having trouble breathing and that it really doesn’t feel like asthma. I keep waking up with spilkus in my ganecktagazoink and I find that I can’t really take a deep breath unless I really concentrate on it. I even skipped the gym today so I could come home and take a nap.
It was a good nap though, let me tell you.
So I am still working on finding a way to actually have a point to all of this writing. I did put some words down on my screenplay yesterday (about a page worth) so I think I might slowly be moving out of my block. I just feel like something major is missing right now. I feel like I need to be on a road trip or something. I have the next three days off and it is severely depressing that I don’t have something major planned for those days. There was a time in my life when I would ALREADY be sitting at Loser’s Lounge with my 4th beer of the night in hand already. Now I’m just glad for a nap and some pretty good preseason football (the Packers are playing the Colts and the Packers look pretty F’ing good). Maybe I will take the dogs for a walk tomorrow or something.
I was thinking today about how I have flashes of brilliance as far as comedy writing goes but then I go through really long stretches where I have absolutely nothing. I wonder how guys who do that stuff for a living get around those blocks. I was also thinking about how I have literally NEVER put all of myself into anything in my life. I have always done things halfway. I talked to a guy about it when I was busy failing my chemistry class in high school (both of us were “smart” kids who were getting our asses kicked by that class so we both kind of just shut down) and he said that we were both afraid of failure so it is much easier to not try than it is to put forth effort and fail.
Truer words have never been spoken.
So what would happen if I ever put everything I had into a goal? Would I surprise myself or would I revert back to my old standby of not trying at all so when the inevitable failure occurred I could always say, “Well, I didn’t REALLY try that hard now, did I?”
I am getting to the part of life where I am too old to do some things and too young to think that way. Does that make sense? I see people who get paid to write for comedy shows and they just seem to have the best work I could possibly think of. Does that mean that comedy writers have my dream job? I can’t think of a better job than being able to write for a comedy show like “The Office” or “Parks and Recreation” or some of the other NBC comedy shows. Of course, I have only written 4 pages of a cold open for an episode of “The Office” and, true to form, I never finished it because I was worried it would suck and no one would ever read it anyway. I really wish I had the balls to put all of myself into something, just once, to see what kind of damage I could do.
B!
It was a good nap though, let me tell you.
So I am still working on finding a way to actually have a point to all of this writing. I did put some words down on my screenplay yesterday (about a page worth) so I think I might slowly be moving out of my block. I just feel like something major is missing right now. I feel like I need to be on a road trip or something. I have the next three days off and it is severely depressing that I don’t have something major planned for those days. There was a time in my life when I would ALREADY be sitting at Loser’s Lounge with my 4th beer of the night in hand already. Now I’m just glad for a nap and some pretty good preseason football (the Packers are playing the Colts and the Packers look pretty F’ing good). Maybe I will take the dogs for a walk tomorrow or something.
I was thinking today about how I have flashes of brilliance as far as comedy writing goes but then I go through really long stretches where I have absolutely nothing. I wonder how guys who do that stuff for a living get around those blocks. I was also thinking about how I have literally NEVER put all of myself into anything in my life. I have always done things halfway. I talked to a guy about it when I was busy failing my chemistry class in high school (both of us were “smart” kids who were getting our asses kicked by that class so we both kind of just shut down) and he said that we were both afraid of failure so it is much easier to not try than it is to put forth effort and fail.
Truer words have never been spoken.
So what would happen if I ever put everything I had into a goal? Would I surprise myself or would I revert back to my old standby of not trying at all so when the inevitable failure occurred I could always say, “Well, I didn’t REALLY try that hard now, did I?”
I am getting to the part of life where I am too old to do some things and too young to think that way. Does that make sense? I see people who get paid to write for comedy shows and they just seem to have the best work I could possibly think of. Does that mean that comedy writers have my dream job? I can’t think of a better job than being able to write for a comedy show like “The Office” or “Parks and Recreation” or some of the other NBC comedy shows. Of course, I have only written 4 pages of a cold open for an episode of “The Office” and, true to form, I never finished it because I was worried it would suck and no one would ever read it anyway. I really wish I had the balls to put all of myself into something, just once, to see what kind of damage I could do.
B!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
500 Words A Day-Day 6
I’ve been working on a screenplay for about 5 or 6 months now about an alcoholic who gets diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, his brother dies and he sells his business all in a span of about a week. As a result of all of that turmoil he decides to go to Arizona and see the Grand Canyon with his brother’s ashes in tow because he’s “never seen anything worth forgetting.” On his way to the Grand Canyon, through a strange twist of fate, he ends up stranded in Flagstaff with no car and he decides to walk to the Grand Canyon to complete the journey with his brother’s ashes.
I am stuck, writer’s block style, in writing this screenplay as my protagonist is currently about 15 miles north of Flagstaff on highway 180. I have a love interest for the guy who has come up with a pretty cool way to keep the spark ignited (at least I think so, and I should since I wrote it): every day she puts her bike in the car, drives a few miles past him on 180 as he walks to the Canyon and she rides her bike back to where he is and she walks with him, pushing her bike, until she gets back to her car. Then she goes home and he walks. And he walks some more to the canyon, camping at night along the way.
So this bit of writer’s block has got me thinking that the only way to get through it is to actually attempt the walk that my protagonist is undertaking. I would consider myself a “method writer” in that I have to be in the mood of the person talking in order for it to come out right. I’m sure I make some CRAZY faces while I’m writing because I basically act everything out in my head as I write it. I have trouble writing about things I don’t really know about, though I am pretty decent at doing research for characters I have no way of using my prior experiences to write (for example, the other script I am writing is about a bunch of Navy SEALs who form a barbershop quartet and I have never done either of those things).
I tried out being an alcoholic once when I was about 24 years old (I forced myself to drink until I was drunk for 31 days in a row just to see what it felt like) and I think that has helped me get into the mind of the alcoholic. Believe me, being an alcoholic is a lot less fun than I thought it would be. The good news about that whole experiment is that I now know I DON’T want to be an alcoholic so I have not become one. Hey, sometimes you have to try stuff out just to find out what you don’t want to do, right?
Anyway, the whole point of this is that sometime either in the next 4 weeks or next May I am going to make the walk from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon, just to see what it feels like. It’s a little less than 76 miles and I am confident I can do that in 4 days barring any injuries or accidents. The smart move will be to do some training and do this walk next May, though that kind of defeats the purpose of the walk, which is to see what it is like to do it on the spur of the moment. Still, I will most likely do the walk next May when the temps aren’t too hot during the day or too cold at night.
Anybody feel like taking a stroll with me?
I am stuck, writer’s block style, in writing this screenplay as my protagonist is currently about 15 miles north of Flagstaff on highway 180. I have a love interest for the guy who has come up with a pretty cool way to keep the spark ignited (at least I think so, and I should since I wrote it): every day she puts her bike in the car, drives a few miles past him on 180 as he walks to the Canyon and she rides her bike back to where he is and she walks with him, pushing her bike, until she gets back to her car. Then she goes home and he walks. And he walks some more to the canyon, camping at night along the way.
So this bit of writer’s block has got me thinking that the only way to get through it is to actually attempt the walk that my protagonist is undertaking. I would consider myself a “method writer” in that I have to be in the mood of the person talking in order for it to come out right. I’m sure I make some CRAZY faces while I’m writing because I basically act everything out in my head as I write it. I have trouble writing about things I don’t really know about, though I am pretty decent at doing research for characters I have no way of using my prior experiences to write (for example, the other script I am writing is about a bunch of Navy SEALs who form a barbershop quartet and I have never done either of those things).
I tried out being an alcoholic once when I was about 24 years old (I forced myself to drink until I was drunk for 31 days in a row just to see what it felt like) and I think that has helped me get into the mind of the alcoholic. Believe me, being an alcoholic is a lot less fun than I thought it would be. The good news about that whole experiment is that I now know I DON’T want to be an alcoholic so I have not become one. Hey, sometimes you have to try stuff out just to find out what you don’t want to do, right?
Anyway, the whole point of this is that sometime either in the next 4 weeks or next May I am going to make the walk from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon, just to see what it feels like. It’s a little less than 76 miles and I am confident I can do that in 4 days barring any injuries or accidents. The smart move will be to do some training and do this walk next May, though that kind of defeats the purpose of the walk, which is to see what it is like to do it on the spur of the moment. Still, I will most likely do the walk next May when the temps aren’t too hot during the day or too cold at night.
Anybody feel like taking a stroll with me?
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
500 Words A Day--Day 5
As I write this it is 9:04 AM on a Tuesday morning. Today is my day off and I’m pretty excited about that. I worked the last 6 days straight and for some reason I am more tired than I should be after working that stretch. It is NOWHERE near my all-time record of 31 days in a row back when I worked for KB Toys, but I feel pretty much just as excited about this day off as the one at the end of my 31-day stretch back in the days.
I took the dogs for a walk today at McQueen Park in Mesa. It’s kind of a shame that I have to drive almost 2 ½ miles to find a place for my dogs to walk without fear of being attacked by a pitbull, but those are the side effects of the choices we make in life. Still, I should count myself fortunate that there is a place that close. It could definitely be worse.
I will admit that I really love walking my dogs. I know that it sometimes is a huge pain in the ass to get the whole thing orchestrated (got to get their collars and harnesses on them, put poop bags in the backpack, get water for them and me, a bowl for them to drink out of, get myself ready to go, then take the gauntlet of a walk from my front door to the car), but it’s pretty much like any other road trip I take—once the rubber hits the road it is a journey and the journey is most of the fun no matter where the destination. I guess taking my dogs for a walk is kind of like a road trip on my Nikes.
Izzy Poo-Poo is an angel on the walks as long as she doesn’t see another living thing. As soon as another heartbeat is within range she goes into kill mode (or at least chase mode) and it takes a strong pimp hand to calm her down. But she is SUCH a good walking companion because she gets into the right frame of mind very easily and she will stay right at my side with very little pulling (only when kill/chase mode is activated does she stray from my side) unless she is being a quitter and diving for shade in the Arizona heat.
Foster Charmington can either be hit or miss as far as how he walks on a given day. Some days he is a perfect walking companion and all he wants to do is sniff and walk and maybe run a little bit. Other days he is a COMPLETE psychopath and he does flips, rolls, dives, dodges and any other maneuver he can think of to try to get out of his head lead to go do whatever it is he wants to do. Usually what he wants to do is NOT be on the head lead but still walk right next to you, but I am a stickler for keeping my dogs on a leash because I HATE when I see other people walking their dogs without a leash. I don’t care how well-trained the other dog is, my dog Izzy will eat its face if it comes near us. She LOVES eating other dogs faces.
Anyway, absolutely nothing of major interest happened to us on our walk today, which is JUST the way I like it. Foster flipped out once because a dog barked on the other side of a wall or something and it made him go ape shit, but I dominated him really quickly and he calmed down and we continued on our merry, sweaty little way. It was 94 degrees out there with probably 60% humidity so I got nice and sweaty and they got pretty warm. We actually only walked about 2 miles when I would normally have gone for at least 4, but it was just too hot today. I can’t wait for the weather to cool down a bit so I can really work these guys (and myself). I just made a pretty big decision in my life and I will announce it soon, but working with these guys in cooler weather is definitely going to help me with my finishing of the project I am going to start.
I promise these will eventually get more exciting to read. Right now I’m just trying to get into the swing of things. Eventually something creative will start to spill out of me, just have to prime the pump. Okay kids, off to see what movie I’m going to watch today. Later.
B!
I took the dogs for a walk today at McQueen Park in Mesa. It’s kind of a shame that I have to drive almost 2 ½ miles to find a place for my dogs to walk without fear of being attacked by a pitbull, but those are the side effects of the choices we make in life. Still, I should count myself fortunate that there is a place that close. It could definitely be worse.
I will admit that I really love walking my dogs. I know that it sometimes is a huge pain in the ass to get the whole thing orchestrated (got to get their collars and harnesses on them, put poop bags in the backpack, get water for them and me, a bowl for them to drink out of, get myself ready to go, then take the gauntlet of a walk from my front door to the car), but it’s pretty much like any other road trip I take—once the rubber hits the road it is a journey and the journey is most of the fun no matter where the destination. I guess taking my dogs for a walk is kind of like a road trip on my Nikes.
Izzy Poo-Poo is an angel on the walks as long as she doesn’t see another living thing. As soon as another heartbeat is within range she goes into kill mode (or at least chase mode) and it takes a strong pimp hand to calm her down. But she is SUCH a good walking companion because she gets into the right frame of mind very easily and she will stay right at my side with very little pulling (only when kill/chase mode is activated does she stray from my side) unless she is being a quitter and diving for shade in the Arizona heat.
Foster Charmington can either be hit or miss as far as how he walks on a given day. Some days he is a perfect walking companion and all he wants to do is sniff and walk and maybe run a little bit. Other days he is a COMPLETE psychopath and he does flips, rolls, dives, dodges and any other maneuver he can think of to try to get out of his head lead to go do whatever it is he wants to do. Usually what he wants to do is NOT be on the head lead but still walk right next to you, but I am a stickler for keeping my dogs on a leash because I HATE when I see other people walking their dogs without a leash. I don’t care how well-trained the other dog is, my dog Izzy will eat its face if it comes near us. She LOVES eating other dogs faces.
Anyway, absolutely nothing of major interest happened to us on our walk today, which is JUST the way I like it. Foster flipped out once because a dog barked on the other side of a wall or something and it made him go ape shit, but I dominated him really quickly and he calmed down and we continued on our merry, sweaty little way. It was 94 degrees out there with probably 60% humidity so I got nice and sweaty and they got pretty warm. We actually only walked about 2 miles when I would normally have gone for at least 4, but it was just too hot today. I can’t wait for the weather to cool down a bit so I can really work these guys (and myself). I just made a pretty big decision in my life and I will announce it soon, but working with these guys in cooler weather is definitely going to help me with my finishing of the project I am going to start.
I promise these will eventually get more exciting to read. Right now I’m just trying to get into the swing of things. Eventually something creative will start to spill out of me, just have to prime the pump. Okay kids, off to see what movie I’m going to watch today. Later.
B!
Monday, August 23, 2010
500 Words A Day--Day 4
I’m hungry, I’m tired and I’m pissed off today. I can’t even say that this should be a fun little exercise because I have a feeling it will just turn into rants about all the shit that happened today. I never wanted this writing exercise to turn into a daily journal where I just come on here and complain about stuff, so I will censor myself and try to think of something else to talk about. Suffice it to say that today was one of those days where it seemed like everywhere I turned someone needed help with something that they should have been able to handle themselves. Frustrating, my friends, frustrating.
I just wolfed down a bowl of chicken and pasta and I feel much better. I know sometimes my mood is severely effected by my hunger and part of today’s frustration was being asked to start projects JUST as I was heading off to my break or my lunch. I guess I’m just a prick who only wants to take breaks on my own terms and not based around someone else’s schedule.
Just another part of my awesomeness.
If you’re paying attention, you will notice that I missed two days of writing. This was not by choice. I am, unfortunately, probably not going to be able to write as much as I would like on the weekends. And, of course, by “as much as I’d like” I really mean “there’s no way I am going to be able to write on the weekends unless I get a laptop and go walk to the far ends of the earth. Too much stuff going on in the household on the weekends, unfortunately.
Speaking of laptops, I guess it is fair for me to tell the whole world that if I had a laptop and a motorcycle I would find a way to make money with that and I would be GONE forever. No joke. Luckily for the people who like me in life I have neither of those and every time I think I have the money put together to get one or the other the world gets in the way and I end up back at home, dreaming of the open road. I believe that if the stars align and everything falls into place for me to have both of those at the same time it will also be a sign that it is time for me to go.
I have always thought about “going.” I have a wanderlust unlike anyone I have ever met. I’m not saying that no one else has a wanderlust like mine, but if they do they have already hit the road and they are living the dream in a way I could only hope to live it. I feel like I am standing on the sidelines of my life sometimes because of that. I feel like I am SUPPOSED to be out there on the road, like I am built for it both mentally and emotionally.
I have a disconnect with EVERYTHING that makes it easy for me to move on. There is only one thing in life that I have truly held on to and no one will ever know who or what that is. Maybe when I hit the road I will find it. Maybe the stars will align one day. Maybe.
I just wolfed down a bowl of chicken and pasta and I feel much better. I know sometimes my mood is severely effected by my hunger and part of today’s frustration was being asked to start projects JUST as I was heading off to my break or my lunch. I guess I’m just a prick who only wants to take breaks on my own terms and not based around someone else’s schedule.
Just another part of my awesomeness.
If you’re paying attention, you will notice that I missed two days of writing. This was not by choice. I am, unfortunately, probably not going to be able to write as much as I would like on the weekends. And, of course, by “as much as I’d like” I really mean “there’s no way I am going to be able to write on the weekends unless I get a laptop and go walk to the far ends of the earth. Too much stuff going on in the household on the weekends, unfortunately.
Speaking of laptops, I guess it is fair for me to tell the whole world that if I had a laptop and a motorcycle I would find a way to make money with that and I would be GONE forever. No joke. Luckily for the people who like me in life I have neither of those and every time I think I have the money put together to get one or the other the world gets in the way and I end up back at home, dreaming of the open road. I believe that if the stars align and everything falls into place for me to have both of those at the same time it will also be a sign that it is time for me to go.
I have always thought about “going.” I have a wanderlust unlike anyone I have ever met. I’m not saying that no one else has a wanderlust like mine, but if they do they have already hit the road and they are living the dream in a way I could only hope to live it. I feel like I am standing on the sidelines of my life sometimes because of that. I feel like I am SUPPOSED to be out there on the road, like I am built for it both mentally and emotionally.
I have a disconnect with EVERYTHING that makes it easy for me to move on. There is only one thing in life that I have truly held on to and no one will ever know who or what that is. Maybe when I hit the road I will find it. Maybe the stars will align one day. Maybe.
Friday, August 20, 2010
500 Words A Day - Day 3
As I sit here listening to Matchbox 20’s CD “Yourself Or Someone Like You” I am reminded how music can transport us places without us even knowing it. This CD reminds me of being in my house on Lewis Dr. in Flagstaff back in 1997/1998. I don’t know exactly when this album came out, but I know that I listened the HELL out of it during the time period when I broke up with one long-term girlfriend and was just beginning a relationship with another girl.
Just hearing the song “3 AM” takes me back to sitting on my bed with the “new” girl, listening to the music channels on the satellite receiver in my bedroom. It seemed like every morning at 3 AM they would play that song. It became almost a running joke. We were in the part of the relationship where everything was new and all we did was stay up all night talking. You hear that mom and dad? Talking. Just talking. Maybe making out a little bit, but mostly talking. Those are such good memories. Back when life was fun. Or maybe it just seemed like it was fun because I didn’t have much else to base fun on.
That takes me to the music I listen to today and I wonder if I am ever going to look fondly on the time I am living and think, “Those were some good times.” I don’t think these are necessarily bad times to be perfectly honest. There are some things I would definitely change, but I don’t sit around miserable or anything. What gets me is I do know that I have had WAY better times in my life. I hate to sit around and pine for my youth, especially since in hindsight I pretty much wasted it all on being wasted.
Perhaps that’s what youth is for.
I heard a song today at work that had lyrics along the lines of “sometimes you need to leave to understand what home feels like.” Good God that is brilliant. There’s a part of me that hopes I made that up and I just think I heard it today (I’ve been up since 4AM, and the mind does play some serious games when you’re working on 5 hours sleep), but I’m 99.9% positive I just heard that in a song and I am not as brilliant as I want to be.
The world is actually pretty lucky I’m not as brilliant as I want to be. You’d all be in serious trouble if I were. There literally wouldn’t be enough light to shine on anyone but me. Fortunately for everyone I am a total underachiever.
So, back to my topic, which was how that lyric makes me think about home and how it relates to music. I have several distinct periods of my life where I either loved them or hated them. 1996, for instance, sucked ass except for 2 weeks in the beginning of the year and about 6 random days between June and August when I decided to move back to Flagstaff and go back to school instead of live someplace I hated with people I didn’t particularly like at that time in my life (we’ve since come to the realization that as long as we don’t live together we get along famously). I didn’t actually know how much it sucked, though, until I got into 1997 and realized it was way better.
So I guess leaving the “home” of 1996 and living in 1997 was my cue to see how shitty 1996 was. Man, I really hope that 2011 isn’t much worse. I’d hate to leave the home of this year to find out the grass isn’t any greener in 2011.
Oh, and I’ve moved more than 20 times since I turned 18 and I am perfectly aware that the grass is NEVER greener someplace else . . . but sometimes it sure is nice to play on a different home field, you know?
B!
Just hearing the song “3 AM” takes me back to sitting on my bed with the “new” girl, listening to the music channels on the satellite receiver in my bedroom. It seemed like every morning at 3 AM they would play that song. It became almost a running joke. We were in the part of the relationship where everything was new and all we did was stay up all night talking. You hear that mom and dad? Talking. Just talking. Maybe making out a little bit, but mostly talking. Those are such good memories. Back when life was fun. Or maybe it just seemed like it was fun because I didn’t have much else to base fun on.
That takes me to the music I listen to today and I wonder if I am ever going to look fondly on the time I am living and think, “Those were some good times.” I don’t think these are necessarily bad times to be perfectly honest. There are some things I would definitely change, but I don’t sit around miserable or anything. What gets me is I do know that I have had WAY better times in my life. I hate to sit around and pine for my youth, especially since in hindsight I pretty much wasted it all on being wasted.
Perhaps that’s what youth is for.
I heard a song today at work that had lyrics along the lines of “sometimes you need to leave to understand what home feels like.” Good God that is brilliant. There’s a part of me that hopes I made that up and I just think I heard it today (I’ve been up since 4AM, and the mind does play some serious games when you’re working on 5 hours sleep), but I’m 99.9% positive I just heard that in a song and I am not as brilliant as I want to be.
The world is actually pretty lucky I’m not as brilliant as I want to be. You’d all be in serious trouble if I were. There literally wouldn’t be enough light to shine on anyone but me. Fortunately for everyone I am a total underachiever.
So, back to my topic, which was how that lyric makes me think about home and how it relates to music. I have several distinct periods of my life where I either loved them or hated them. 1996, for instance, sucked ass except for 2 weeks in the beginning of the year and about 6 random days between June and August when I decided to move back to Flagstaff and go back to school instead of live someplace I hated with people I didn’t particularly like at that time in my life (we’ve since come to the realization that as long as we don’t live together we get along famously). I didn’t actually know how much it sucked, though, until I got into 1997 and realized it was way better.
So I guess leaving the “home” of 1996 and living in 1997 was my cue to see how shitty 1996 was. Man, I really hope that 2011 isn’t much worse. I’d hate to leave the home of this year to find out the grass isn’t any greener in 2011.
Oh, and I’ve moved more than 20 times since I turned 18 and I am perfectly aware that the grass is NEVER greener someplace else . . . but sometimes it sure is nice to play on a different home field, you know?
B!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
500 Words A Day--Day 2
Ugh! It’s only day two of this exercise and I already want to quit. I must be on to something good, otherwise this would be easy, right? Isn’t that the maxim? Is it a maxim? What is a maxim, exactly? Let me look it up:
Maxim-noun : a concisely expressed principle or rule of conduct or a statement of a general truth.
Sweet. I got it right. I wouldn’t have changed it even if I got it wrong, just so you know. I’m not afraid to put my stupidity right out there for everyone to see.
So I’ve been trying to think about a topic to write about all day and I realize that the thing that is pissing me off the most today is how ignorant Americans are. Big news, right? It’s really this whole thing about the mosque being built near Ground Zero in New York and how this is a polarizing subject. It has become so polarizing, in fact, that suddenly 18% of Americans now think that President Obama IS a Muslim because he had the audacity to say that the Muslims are free to practice their religion when and where they so choose.
Freedom of religion, huh? That’s a new one. Where have I heard that before? Man, I just can’t remember.
But these idiots that think that Obama is a Muslim just because he would freely allow Muslims to practice their religion in a legal place is borderline asinine. It absolutely proves that Americans aren’t smart enough to put ANYONE in office, much less complain about the person they put in there. I saw a stat on CNN this afternoon that said 5% of the American public had “actually seen a monster in their closet” at some point in their life, too.
Really? You really want to trust these people with their outrage? I’m not saying that the 18% who think Obama is a Muslim are made up of the 5% who have seen a monster in their closet, but I’m guessing there is quite a bit of monster seers in the Obama Muslim crowd. Just a guess.
And what if Obama is a Muslim? So what. He’s the president. There was a point when it was HUGE news that Kennedy was a Catholic. Is this really something we need to be caring about at this point in the presidency?
But back to the mosque at Ground Zero. What the hell are the Muslims going to do so close to Ground Zero that they couldn’t do anywhere else in New York? Are we REALLY going to hold an entire religion responsible for the actions of a few of them?
Has anyone ever heard of the crusades? The Spanish Inquisition? Any of that crap? We’re all fucking nuts as far as religion goes. People don’t like gangs in their neighborhood, but what the hell do you think a church is? It’s just a gang with God’s blessing. I read a quote yesterday that said, “Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian the same way that standing in a garage doesn’t make you a car” or words to that effect. Yet it’s these people hiding behind their religion instead of their racism in opposing the mosque.
No doubt that putting that mosque where they want to put it is probably pretty inflammatory, but only to the families and friends of those killed in the 9/11 attacks. But at the end of the day those people were killed by terrorists who happen to be Muslims, not the other way around.
Get a grip folks. Put that mosque anywhere you want. Maybe we should have a zone set up for all the churches and mosques and synagogues and things like that and they could all be in one zone together so we would always know where the religious zealots are congregating, huh? And maybe we could make everyone wear a patch that denoted their religion so everyone else could see what religion they are. Then maybe we could invade Poland and make France our bitch.
Get it?
B!
Maxim-noun : a concisely expressed principle or rule of conduct or a statement of a general truth.
Sweet. I got it right. I wouldn’t have changed it even if I got it wrong, just so you know. I’m not afraid to put my stupidity right out there for everyone to see.
So I’ve been trying to think about a topic to write about all day and I realize that the thing that is pissing me off the most today is how ignorant Americans are. Big news, right? It’s really this whole thing about the mosque being built near Ground Zero in New York and how this is a polarizing subject. It has become so polarizing, in fact, that suddenly 18% of Americans now think that President Obama IS a Muslim because he had the audacity to say that the Muslims are free to practice their religion when and where they so choose.
Freedom of religion, huh? That’s a new one. Where have I heard that before? Man, I just can’t remember.
But these idiots that think that Obama is a Muslim just because he would freely allow Muslims to practice their religion in a legal place is borderline asinine. It absolutely proves that Americans aren’t smart enough to put ANYONE in office, much less complain about the person they put in there. I saw a stat on CNN this afternoon that said 5% of the American public had “actually seen a monster in their closet” at some point in their life, too.
Really? You really want to trust these people with their outrage? I’m not saying that the 18% who think Obama is a Muslim are made up of the 5% who have seen a monster in their closet, but I’m guessing there is quite a bit of monster seers in the Obama Muslim crowd. Just a guess.
And what if Obama is a Muslim? So what. He’s the president. There was a point when it was HUGE news that Kennedy was a Catholic. Is this really something we need to be caring about at this point in the presidency?
But back to the mosque at Ground Zero. What the hell are the Muslims going to do so close to Ground Zero that they couldn’t do anywhere else in New York? Are we REALLY going to hold an entire religion responsible for the actions of a few of them?
Has anyone ever heard of the crusades? The Spanish Inquisition? Any of that crap? We’re all fucking nuts as far as religion goes. People don’t like gangs in their neighborhood, but what the hell do you think a church is? It’s just a gang with God’s blessing. I read a quote yesterday that said, “Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian the same way that standing in a garage doesn’t make you a car” or words to that effect. Yet it’s these people hiding behind their religion instead of their racism in opposing the mosque.
No doubt that putting that mosque where they want to put it is probably pretty inflammatory, but only to the families and friends of those killed in the 9/11 attacks. But at the end of the day those people were killed by terrorists who happen to be Muslims, not the other way around.
Get a grip folks. Put that mosque anywhere you want. Maybe we should have a zone set up for all the churches and mosques and synagogues and things like that and they could all be in one zone together so we would always know where the religious zealots are congregating, huh? And maybe we could make everyone wear a patch that denoted their religion so everyone else could see what religion they are. Then maybe we could invade Poland and make France our bitch.
Get it?
B!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
500 Words A Day--Day 1
To give you some sort of idea of what this whole journey is going to be like, I originally planned on titling this little effort “1000 Words A Day” but I got tired just thinking about that much writing so I have decided to shoot for 500 or so words. That’s not to say that some days I won’t end up with diarrhea of the keyboard and throw down 2500 words if I really get on a roll, but there will be PLENTY of other days where I don’t feel like writing anything so forcing myself to drop even 500 words will be a chore. So there.
“So what’s the point of doing this silly thing and writing 500 words every day?” you may ask. Well, you can ask it all you want but that doesn’t mean I am going to come up with a good answer for you. I am notorious for starting stuff that I never finish (for example, just in the time it took me to write the sentence you are reading up to the beginning of the parenthesis I took a long drink of water, scratched my head, looked at my “1000 Places To See Before You Die” calendar, decided I don’t really have any desire to go to Borneo even if the Mengkabong River flows peacefully through the shadow of Mount Kinabalu National Park, ripped the page off the calendar, threw it away, pet my dog and ate like six bites of tuna and pasta). NOTORIOUS I said. I know that was a long sentence if you include all of the crap I did while writing it, so I will forgive you if you need to backtrack and re-read it.
Yesterday I hit rock bottom as far as getting nothing done with my life. I know, I know, I’ve done nothing with my life up until yesterday already, so what was one more day, right? Well, one more day is one more day I have wasted. During my lifetime I have wanted to be (in no particular order): a fireman, the Lone Ranger, a television director for the David Letterman Show, a rapper, a music producer, the owner of a record label, a screenwriter, a radio personality, a bar owner, a restaurant owner, a chef (yeah right, you should smell this tuna and pasta mixture, it literally smells like death), an author, a stuntman, etc. In fact, I could probably take care of all of today’s 500 words just by listing stuff I have wanted to be at some point in my life.
Now, for what I have done with my life: I work in retail. That’s it. NOT EVEN CLOSE!
So, since I think the most rational thing I could possibly choose to be besides the Lone Ranger (that’s easy, just grab a sweet mask, a couple of six-shooters and a dope light blue cowboy outfit and I’m set to go solve some crimes and confuse people on who I am) is an author. Now what I author will be up for debate because I will mostly be working on screenplays since I have like 6 of them in different states of development and none of them has gone any further that one sentence in the last 3 months (thanks to my staggering output of ONE SENTECE yesterday).
They say if you want to write, write. So I’m writing. 500 words a day. We’ll see how this one goes.
“So what’s the point of doing this silly thing and writing 500 words every day?” you may ask. Well, you can ask it all you want but that doesn’t mean I am going to come up with a good answer for you. I am notorious for starting stuff that I never finish (for example, just in the time it took me to write the sentence you are reading up to the beginning of the parenthesis I took a long drink of water, scratched my head, looked at my “1000 Places To See Before You Die” calendar, decided I don’t really have any desire to go to Borneo even if the Mengkabong River flows peacefully through the shadow of Mount Kinabalu National Park, ripped the page off the calendar, threw it away, pet my dog and ate like six bites of tuna and pasta). NOTORIOUS I said. I know that was a long sentence if you include all of the crap I did while writing it, so I will forgive you if you need to backtrack and re-read it.
Yesterday I hit rock bottom as far as getting nothing done with my life. I know, I know, I’ve done nothing with my life up until yesterday already, so what was one more day, right? Well, one more day is one more day I have wasted. During my lifetime I have wanted to be (in no particular order): a fireman, the Lone Ranger, a television director for the David Letterman Show, a rapper, a music producer, the owner of a record label, a screenwriter, a radio personality, a bar owner, a restaurant owner, a chef (yeah right, you should smell this tuna and pasta mixture, it literally smells like death), an author, a stuntman, etc. In fact, I could probably take care of all of today’s 500 words just by listing stuff I have wanted to be at some point in my life.
Now, for what I have done with my life: I work in retail. That’s it. NOT EVEN CLOSE!
So, since I think the most rational thing I could possibly choose to be besides the Lone Ranger (that’s easy, just grab a sweet mask, a couple of six-shooters and a dope light blue cowboy outfit and I’m set to go solve some crimes and confuse people on who I am) is an author. Now what I author will be up for debate because I will mostly be working on screenplays since I have like 6 of them in different states of development and none of them has gone any further that one sentence in the last 3 months (thanks to my staggering output of ONE SENTECE yesterday).
They say if you want to write, write. So I’m writing. 500 words a day. We’ll see how this one goes.
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