MySpace Archive

Superman Looks At 30

22 June 2009

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood: blah intense

T-minus 4 days, guys.  That’s four short days until I turn 30 years old.

What should I say?  Just give you the usual rundown?  I saw Big Sandy and The Legendary Shack Shakers.  I saw Star Trek and Drag Me To Hell.  David Carradine died.  Christina Ricci broke off her engagement.  I explored Fort Funston alone on a Tuesday afternoon.  I got sick and missed Colin’s wedding dinner, LTB, The Guana Batz, and A Camp.  All those consecutive days home sick allowed me to test what happens when I don’t shampoo my hair for days (erm… dandruff?) and not shave so I could see what I might look like with a beard.  During this down time, I managed to spill scalding water all over my left hand and almost had to cancel the Reno show.  I went to Reno after all, and my car broke down on the way.  Do people still read blogs on MySpace?  Am I wasting my time?  I feel like in the last couple of months, people have abandoned MySpace.  Is it true?

As I approach 30, I wish I had something shattering to say, but I don’t.  Maybe that’s the point though.  I feel like this should be some momentous occasion.  For all the dread and stress that’s led up to it… for all the societal and cultural pressure… I feel like this should be a major event in history.  But something that’s taken a long time to learn, something that I think some people learn when they become parents, something that I have just started to grasp myself… it’s that no one is really meaning parents told you, you are not Superman.  You are mortal.  Your time is finite.  You may be above average, but in the grand scheme of things, you aren’t that different or special from anyone else.  The big dreams you have in youth of being president or an astronaut or an NFL quarterback or a rock star… they don’t come true for virtually any of us, and even if they did, it doesn’t make you happier.

After 30 years, what have I learned?  The things you accomplish, the things you buy, the things you build… they’re just things.  What matters is what you are.  Or maybe what matters is that you are.  I think my happiness comes more and more just from existing.  In the long run, that promotion you got or didn’t get, that car you bought or didn’t, that city you did or didn’t move to… it’s not what makes you happy.  All those decisions can go “right” or “wrong” and either way, your happiness is ultimately dictated by what’s inside you, not what’s around you.

You know, I’m questioning the value of these blogs.  It’s nice to go back and read this stuff, but it’s not unlike scrapbooking.  What a waste of today’s life to spend it chronicling yesterday’s life.  To spend so much time trying to document and capture the past… when our time is so very finite.  It’s ridiculous.  Spend your life living your life, not documenting it for the future.  We won’t be here long enough for this record to possibly matter.  It’s hard to swallow that.  The idea that these dramatic gestures won’t echo throughout history.  That maybe every little thing I say or do isn’t worth capturing for posterity.  I used to think that it was all so precious, but it’s not.  It’s dust in the wind.  We’ll all be dead and gone before anyone has a chance to get serious use out of it.  All that matters is you and me and here and now.

So I guess put another way: I’ve learned to be humble.  Seriously, how can you not be humble in the face of eternity?  We’re all nothing.  If you’re lucky enough to get even 80 years on this planet, do want to spend another futile second of it trying to face down eternity?  Stop living for tomorrow!  I could write more, but I have a life to live damn it.  Time to take my own advice here and stop wasting my night away in front of the computer.  Who knows, maybe I’ll be so lucky as to read this when I’m 40, and I’ll laugh at myself.  When I look at what I thought I knew at 20… well, I have to laugh.

World, it’s been a great life so far.  I hope to take less of it for granted in my remaining years.  I will do my best to always strive to live in the moment, and appreciate every solitary second I’m lucky enough to be here.  I have a lot of regrets, but I’m choosing to use them as fuel to be stronger and wiser in the future.  To the people I’ve known so far, I hope that your life is better for having known me.  Good or bad, I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it weren’t for every one of you, so I thank you.  I’ve always tried to be a good and fair person.  I’ve tried to avoid hurting others whenever possible.  To anyone I’ve hurt, I’m sorry.  I didn’t always have all the answers.  I’m human, and I’ve made my share of mistakes and bad calls.  But I’ve always tried to do the right thing.

I turn 30 this Friday, and all the pressure to make a big deal of it was relieved when the opportunity to play this show came up.  We’ll be back at Ireland’s 32, where I have so many great memories of the early days of TCB.  We’ll play the Smiths and Morrissey we all love so much… and maybe some other stuff too.  It’s half birthday party and half casual TCB show.  I’m just looking forward to seeing my friends and playing a show without the usual rules.  Hope to see you there!

flyer-090626

Tossed Salads and Scrambled Eggs

1 June 2009

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood: happy warm

First things first, the trip was a big success.  We all had a lot of fun in Portland and Seattle, and the flight and logistics went off with almost no issues.  I got to spend a lot of time with friends, and a little time poking around a new city.  Portland is a nice town, and it was great to catch up with several friends I hadn’t seen in years.  The hotel was cheap and very nice.  The Wonder Ballroom was something like a big high school gymnasium.  We got over 350 people out for that one, and there were plenty of fans singing and dancing along.  We hit an all night Cajun restaurant afterwards.  The next morning, we got lost in the industrial area of Portland near the bridges and inadvertently found Dunder-Mifflin, then had brunch with my old PeopleSoft friends, and then headed out to Seattle by car.  Seattle is beautiful, and we were staying and playing right in the thick of it.  Pike’s Market.  Which I guess is sort of the Fisherman’s Wharf of Seattle.  Lots of tourists.  The hotel was expensive and tiny.  But the show was fun… 650+ people in a venue not unlike a mini House Of Blues, all rocking out to covered Smiths/Moz, New Order, Depeche Mode, and Cure tunes.  Wrestled and danced in the green room.  Ended up at some ex-grunge hangout called The Hurricane.  Ate greasy food.  Woke up and headed to Bruce Lee’s cemetery on the way to the airport.  Had we started with the NeverLost, then we probably would have never been lost.  Once we found the place though, we had a very The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly moment of trying to search through the cemetery to find Bruce and Brandon’s graves.  We did finally find them and pay our respects, and then it was off to the airport and home.  Oh, and Paul’s new nickname is “The Balls.”  I know I left a ton of the story out.  Hopefully if/when the others read this, they can fill in the gaps.

But the big news for me personally is that this trip came and went without any major issues.  It’s been a hard year, you know.  But I wouldn’t change it.  The obstacles that have challenged me have forced me to face and consider many things that I almost certainly would not have otherwise.  If I had just lived the last year exactly as I have the previous ones, and not done all of this growing and exploring… well I’d feel sorry for that hypothetical me.  I am so much better off now than I was a year ago.  On a related subject, I highly recommend you take the 20 minutes to watch this lecture on perceived happiness.  It has caused me to reconsider the way I approach many situations.

Out of nowhere, I got on this kick of thinking about old skateboard culture.  For one hot minute back in the late 80’s, I was into skateboarding.  I had a Schmitt Stixx Lucero X2 deck (similar to this one, only mine* was white and had custom hot pink grip tape).  I remember being totally into decals at the time, and going to the skate shop on De Anza and picking up decals for brands of equipment and parts that I didn’t even understand.  I just liked the designs, you know.  I went looking on the web for this stuff and found some awesome sites dedicated to late 80’s skateboarding decals (Retro Skate Stickers) and decks (Wheel Bite, Skateboard Junkie).  Going through those pages brought back so many memories.  I see logos and designs and brand names I haven’t thought of in 20 years!  Powell Peralta, Santa Cruz, Slimeballs, Independent Trucks, Nash, Jimmy’z, Rob Roskopp, T&C Surf (remember their yin-yang logo, cartoon t-shirts, and even Nintendo game?), Vision, Sims, etc.  Too many to name.  And then the clothing lines like Maui and Sons and Gotcha, shoes like Vans and Airwalks.  All this stuff I remember being popular in my neighborhood during my short skating career.  Ah well, memories.  I feel at least Starla and Jonah would appreciate all that.

* An interesting story about my Lucero… so I never really got good at skating.  I think I was always too afraid of injury.  But I still had fun with it.  Back in San Jose, I used to take it up to the local 7-Eleven with my friend Olin to play their arcade games — Double Dragon and the like.  I guess I left my board out in front next to his bike while we were in there one evening, and when we came out, someone had run off with it.  I think Dad and I drove around looking for it that night, but it was no use.  A few weeks later, my friend Jonah and his big brother and their dad were coming out of a movie theater across town (the Town & Country which used to be where Santana Row sits now).  They saw some teenage kid with a distinctive white Lucero and hot pink grip tape.  Jonah recognized it as mine and alerted his dad… who then confronted the scared-shitless teen on the spot and got my board back!  Do you believe that!?  I love that story.

So that all brings me to my philosophical dilemma.  Checking out that skateboard sticker site, I see a bunch of the decals I used to love.  In fact, I just ordered a vintage Slimeballs decal (always one of my faves) for about $20.  They don’t make them anymore.  It’s a 20-year-old sticker that someone has managed to keep pristine for decades.  Is it wrong to use it?  My first inclination is that it’s an antique and shouldn’t be wasted on my pedalboard case.  It should be preserved and cared for.  But my new “shedding materialism” side says that we’ll all be dust soon anyway, and this sticker was created with the purpose of being stuck on something.  It will bring me and my friends more joy to occasionally see it on my pedalboard case and think about our youth than it ever would bring anyone just sitting in a drawer somewhere.  Preserving it for the future is meaningless and futile.  It only becomes valuable when it is used and brings joy and it fulfills its destiny.  And on that note, I picked up a Garbage Pail Kid sticker too.  Tell me, is it wrong to use these stickers, knowing that by doing so, they will eventually be scuffed and worn away over time, lost forever?  These stickers which are among the last of their kind.  Do I have a responsibility to protect them from harm… and use?

slimeballs

The other day in the FiDi, I saw this slick-looking black guy in front of my building, brightly colored suit, pressed straight hair, a few gold teeth.  He was stopping people on the street and opening his jacket to reveal the jewelry he was selling.  I think I actually laughed out loud.  Could you be more of a cliché?  Do you not know that you are an extra in a 1980’s Eddie Murphy movie set in New York City?  I mean, you might as well be a burglar running around in a striped shirt and a mask.

“The odds are a million-to-one against your being one in a million.”

Thirty, clumsy, and shy.

26 May 2009

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  busy

Well, it’s official.  As of tonight, I have only one month left of my twenties.  It’s coming up so fast.  I can remember distinctly thinking that I have a year left, six months left, three months left, two months left, and now here I am.  I have a feeling it’s all gonna go by in a blink.  I mean, all of 2009 is almost half over already.  Holy shit!  Holy shit!

I was looking through some old saved song files on my computer the other day, and looking at my Morrissey folder, I saw that the timestamp on many of those files is back in 2001.  This would have been the time that I really got obsessive about tracking down each and every song.  My point though is just to think that Morrissey’s been a huge part of my life for eight years now.  I’ve been listening for longer, but that was the time it really started becoming part of my personality.  I know that to some of you, that’s not a very long Moz obsession, or even band obsession period, and that’s fine.  Personally, I look back at 2001 and think how big a turn that was for me.  How might I have turned out without that influence?  And eight years.  That’s a long time.  I can still so clearly remember those days of discovering Moz b-sides for the first time.  Each one such a revelation.  And that was eight years ago.  Again, gone in a blink.

Morrissey turned 50, you know.  The Slim’s show was a big success, I think.  The opening bands were both great, and totally appropriate for the bill.  We played well.  The turn out was great, and it seemed like I couldn’t turn around without running into someone I know.  Damn near everyone I can remember ever coming to an SF show came out of the woodwork.  Friends I haven’t seen in months and even years.  It all added up to one of my favorite shows yet.  The radio promo was fun too, but a little rough.  We were all more nervous for that than we were for Friday!  (You can download a podcast of the radio show here.  We start at about 80 minutes in.)

The rest of my long weekend was all relaxing and recuperating.  When I hit up El Beach Burrito, I was reminded to go next door to Other Avenues (hippie grocery store).  I forget if I mentioned this place before, but they’ve got all kinds of great stuff that I can rarely find elsewhere… fake beef jerky, carob, apple butter, insanely expensive organic trail mix, etc.  For all their organic/local/green hippiness, ironically, they carry Mrs. Meyers cleaning products (owned by SC Johnson!) instead of the locally-based and infinitely greener Method brand.  But alas!  Anyway, I was tempted once again by another brand of peanut sauce, and again I was disappointed.  Tell me, is it impossible to find that Thai satay peanut sauce in a grocery store?  Can this only be had in a restaurant?

This weekend, TCB has another couple of shows, and these ones are way up north!  Those of you in the know may be aware that I haven’t been too keen on travel lately.  So this is gonna be a big trip.  I expect it will go fine though, and when it’s all over, I’ll have something to be happy about.

I’ve got much more to say, but it’s gonna have to wait till next time.  I’m busy this week, bitches!  The quote of the week comes from Morrissey, on mortality:

“People don’t last, and it’s the thinnest of lines that you step over and make that final journey.  When you’re younger, you feel that it’s a great leap to take, but it isn’t.  It’s the batting of an eyelid, and you’re no longer.  And all this brain matter that you’ve been working on for the past 50 years, perfecting, and all these elongated words that you now know and use… it comes to nothing, and you’re rubble.”

Monday Night Fever

11 May 2009

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood: sick

If it was swine flu, it passed pretty easily.  I came down with some kind of weird fever and achiness over the weekend that left me without the energy to do much of anything.  From what I hear, a lot of folks have been battling sore throats, so knock on wood that I didn’t have that to deal with.  Tonight, it’s down to just a headache, so I’m hoping to be right as rain tomorrow.  Unrelated (I think), it occurs to me that I’ve been to the doctor more in the last year than in the previous five.  Honestly.  I think that’s partly me getting old and partly me getting paranoid.

I really just wanted to mention that the flyer is finally done for TCB’s celebration of Morrissey’s 50th birthday… a week from Friday!  This is a huge headlining gig at Slim’s, and we’ll be joined by Dead Souls (awesome Joy Division tribute) and Love Vigilantes (a New Order tribute coming all the way from Seattle).  I expect this show to be way better than our Slim’s show last year… for many reasons.  Not the least of which that it’s Mozzer’s semicentennial birthday!  Hope you guys can make it out!

Alright, bitches.  Finally… proof positive regarding the existence of Peanut Butter Boppers.  My previous evidence consisted of their brief appearance in grampa’s fridge in The Lost Boys.  But now RetroJunk has posted the commercial.  Tell me someone else remembers these things?  Delish!  And if that weren’t enough, the Mother’s website is back up, and it indicates that Mother’s Cookies should be back on shelves any day now.  A glimmer of hope in these dark times.  But alas, I’d be sick(er) if I tried to eat any of that stuff right now.  Maybe tomorrow.  Meh.  I’m off to go rest.  Nighty night…

“Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.”

— Unknown

The damaged love the damaged.

4 May 2009

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  tired

Too true, too true.  Yet another Palahniuk quote for a title — that one from Snuff.  Seriously, you should just read his books instead of my bloggin’s.

Before I forget, it’s past midnight.  Happy Cinco De Mayo, bitches!  And happy “Cinco De Drinko” to all my lush friends.  Which is most of you, let’s be honest.  It’s been a busy few days of concerts (Devil Makes Three), brunches, naps, and today jury duty (which I narrowly escaped).  I’ve been totally wiped out lately, and I’m not sure why.  It should be an interesting week as I try to get my energy back.  I probably just need more sleep, and maybe a little more R&R.  Speaking of which, check out this guy Clark Little.  His pictures make me wish I knew how to surf.  Oh, and that I lived in Hawaii.

Practice resumes this week as TCB prepares for Slim’s on May 22nd (Morrissey’s birthday).  We’ll be dusting off some old ones for the show, so there ought to be a few surprises.  And that Manchester bill of Love Vigilantes and Dead Souls is gonna be amazing.  Then the very next weekend, it’s off to Portland and Seattle.  I’ll tell you, after my flight last week, I am absolutely positively sure I don’t want to travel with NASA (my monstrous guitar pedal board).  It was a fun experiment this last year having all those pedals at every show, but it’s only a matter of time before I throw out my back moving that thing around (it weighs more than my amp!).  I’m not a young buck anymore, you know.

So I’ve invested in a smaller pedal board.  Much smaller actually.  It’ll be easier to travel with and just easier in general.  It holds plenty of effects for any kind of music I’d want to play other than Smiths tribute.  You see, tribute bands have the unique challenge of having to try to sound like another band… often the albums where all kinds of studio effects were applied to the guitar.  Trying to recreate that live means having to have a whole arsenal of pedals at your disposal.  But sorry, I’m over that mess.  With this smaller board, I’m going to lose the occasional “perfect” effect for this or that song, but having to make do with less will go just fine I think.  The cost/benefit of lugging around all that weight just doesn’t add up.  (I envy guys like Reverend Horton Heat, where they literally have one or two pedals to worry about, and the rest is all in the fingers.)  You all have heard us.  You know what we’re capable of and that we can nail the sounds more often than not.  I’m retiring NASA for a while and probably changing amps.  My Bassman — which is my favorite  and which I’ve used at nearly every show since TCB started — breaks up a little early for Smiths.  And my Twin — which is what Johnny used a lot of the time anyway — is just begging to get some use.  A lot of changes tone-wise, but I’ll do my best to make it a smooth transition.

Well I’m beat, kiddies, and I’m off to bed.  But I’ll leave you with some mindless entertainment.  If the hipster link last week didn’t get you, this one will.  Thanks to Jamie, it’s texts from last night.  Hilarious!

Flying Coach With Coach

29 April 2009

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  accomplished

I spent a good portion of tonight working on my ongoing housecleaning.  Tonight, I tried to make yet another dent in my shredding of boxes of old paperwork.  There’s a ton of it.  Destroying all these documents.  Don’t ask me why, but I have virtually all of my pay stubs, and I’m not kidding.  I literally shredded hundreds of them tonight, back through my job selling pool supplies in 1996, my days at Blockbuster where I made so many friends, my entire PeopleSoft career from internship through consulting, my time at Mercury.  I had dozens of old credit card statements and receipts from those days too.  The last surviving records and mementos from my trip to Atlanta (complete with reminders of Crista), my stint in Thousand Oaks, etc.  Reading through some of them brought back memories.  The restaurants I ate at, the places I shopped.  Holding them in my hand tonight… the last person to touch this piece of paper was me 13 years ago.  A message from the past.

If you could, what would you say to the “you” of 13 years ago?  What advice would you give him?

Should I have kept these papers instead of destroyed them tonight?  Well, it made me wish I had been blogging or keeping a diary back then.  But in the end, I’m telling myself that keeping this stuff is like scrapbooking.  Why waste my current (and precious and limited) life cataloging my past life?  Life is short enough as it is.  As I said recently, there isn’t any time to dwell on the past.  We’ll all be dead before we have time to sort it out, catalog it, and enjoy the scrapbook.  So goodbye memories of Atlanta restaurants (like Dante’s Down The Hatch in Buckhead), and goodbye records of what hotels I stayed at on which consulting trips, and goodbye list of purchases from 2001.  There’s nothing to stop you from fading away now.  Those things seem important to me because they’re mine.  My life experiences.  But it’s so easy to get bogged down by the details of everyday life.  No one, including me, will ever need all this information.  There’s no reason to treat it like the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Shredding all these papers, I shredded an offer letter I once got from a company in New York (Vitech).  I was making that career decision back around the time of my project in Reno.  I ultimately turned them down, but looking at this offer letter… it’s mind-boggling to think about all the different paths your life could go at any moment.  That job in New York you didn’t take.  That party you skipped.  The shoes you bought.  Chaos theory.  One little decision made differently, and who knows where your life would be now?  Maybe you’d be living overseas.  Maybe you would have never met me.  Maybe you’d be married. Maybe you’d have been hit by a car that very afternoon.  You can’t even get your head around it.  So many ways life could have been different.  And now, as ever, as always… infinite possibilities for your future.  And mine.

After all those musings, if you’re now bored, Starla advises you to go look at this fucking hipster.

I braved getting on a plane this last weekend for a quick round trip, for the first time in over a year.  I was expecting the worst, but despite Murphy’s Law being in full effect (my initial flight was cancelled, the flight I did get on was completely packed, turbulence so bad the passengers clapped when we landed), I survived and felt pretty good about the whole thing.  I got to meet up with Colin and his girls for a brief tea, and then it was back to the Bay.  There’s also a questionable picture Selene took of Colin and I.  I’ll see if I can nick it and put it up for you voyeurs.  Quick side note, on the flight to Burbank, Todd Bridges was on board, and on the flight back, so was Coach’s Craig T. Nelson.

I continue to hear positive feedback about that Blackthorn show a couple weekends back.  Big shows coming up, and some changes in the works regarding my gear.  I won’t bore you with the details here and now.  But I might next time.  🙂  Anyway, in addition to providing the clever title for this blog, the quote of the week comes from Sus, on the subject of her assuming absolute power over TCB:

“The whole band bear dances right now!!!  Oh my goodness, I’m so close to getting you guys to do it, I can feel it.”

Self esteem is bad for the economy.

23 April 2009

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  intense

Folks, I’m pleased to report that The Legendary Shack Shakers are coming back to town!  They’ll be at the Red Devil Lounge on June 9th, and that’s exactly where I’m gonna be.  The next night, they’ll be at The Blue Lamp in Sacto (is this like their TCB tour?), and the night before they’ll be at the VooDoo Lounge in SJ.  To my SF and San Jose friends, you don’t want to miss them.  This band will rock your ass to pieces with an energy on stage that puts so many of our local bands to shame.  I was skeptical too before seeing them last year, but 30 seconds of that show changed my mind.  Damn, so many good shows coming up over the next few months!

I sold another guitar, bitches!  A fancy one, too… the 12-string Ric!  That just leaves three left in this first round of thinning the herd:

OK, so I did finally join Facebook.  My first impressions are that it’s slow, and that it gives you way too many way too many messages, IMs, walls, notification emails, all flying out of every corner of the screen. After just a few minutes of being on there, I wanted to scream and jump out the window!  I’m definitely keeping it bare bones in there, but it has let me connect with a few people I’d been meaning to.  So yay for that.  But MySpace sucks up enough of my life as it is… I can’t be keeping up with every little happening on Facebook too.  This is my home, and this is where you’re gonna have the easiest time reaching me.

Our boy Gavin Newsom (who will of course one day be played by Matthew McConaughey in his biopic) is now officially running for governor.  Based on what I know about him so far, I like him.  I’ve heard some comments locally that he’s not liberal enough.  And yes, I recognize that he’s kind of a slick-talking guy.  But I’ve always liked him.  I thought his gay marriage “whether you like it or not” comment was perfect.  Sounds like something I would have said.  And he cares about his hair, and that’s important to me.  We’ll see what we learn about him as the campaign gets going.

And actually, if I can get political for a minute, I have a couple of things to soapbox about.  First, it is now clear to me that the right is batshit crazy.  I know we haven’t exactly seen eye to eye over the years, but we’ve had Obama now for what, three months?  Already the right has jumped to calling him a tyrant, a fascist, they’re dumping tea in the streets and calling for revolution… and now Texas is hinting at secession?  Are you kidding me?  Three months, dude.  We all just lived through eight agonizing years of what is likely the worst president this nation has ever had, and you’re calling for revolution after three months?  If you’ll pardon the expression… Suck it up, pussies!  (The Daily Show has been doing such an amazing job of chronicling this ridonkulousness… seriously, WATCH THIS.)

(Beware, this one’s kinda touchy.)  And second, I read comments all the time (the most recent having to do with Moz’s little freak out at Coachella) where people say to vegetarians something along the lines of “don’t tell me how to live… I’ll eat what I want, you eat what you want” and so on.  I can’t speak for all vegetarians, but for me it’s an ethical issue.  I take the “meat is murder” stance.  When I see a steak, I think “there’s an animal that didn’t need to die.”  It doesn’t matter if I’m eating it or someone else is… it still affects me.  Recently, an animal rights activist was added to the FBI’s top ten most wanted list.  It reminded me of another example… I may not agree with the opinions of anti-abortion activists, and I certainly don’t agree with them committing terrorism by bombing clinics and all that.  But I also know that to them this isn’t just a mild issue of they prefer a lifestyle that doesn’t suit everyone.  In their mind, they see it as the sanctioned murder of babies.  Think about that.  Now, if you thought kids were being murdered, wouldn’t you feel compelled to go to great lengths to stop it?  I don’t agree with the tactics or the philosophy, but I understand it.  To someone who holds that belief, you can’t use an argument like “don’t tell me how to live… I won’t dictate if you can kill your babies… so don’t dictate if I can kill mine.”  I know that’s really graphic, but do you see what I’m getting at?  It’s as absurd as saying “well that’s fine if you’re against slavery… you don’t have to own slaves… but don’t tell me I can’t.”  My main point here is simply that ethical vegetarianism is not a “to each their own” kind of issue… to at least one side of the argument, there’s a real victim in the equation.  Now I’m not about to go committing acts of terrorism myself, but again, I understand why some vegetarians don’t just keep quiet.  Anyway, hope that made sense rather than made me sound batshit crazy myself.

“A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it.”

Oscar Wilde

The Songs That Saved Your Night

19 April 2009

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  sore

I’m sure you are aware that Morrissey was supposed to play Oakland last night, but cancelled the day of.  The official story was that he was sick, which is certainly possible.  But given his history, rumors of low ticket sales, the events the day before at Coachella, and the fact that he was sighted at the DNA Lounge, I call shenanigans!

So yesterday morning, we’re all bummed (some of us had pit tickets!), and Sus (who by the way caught Moz’s entire shirt at Coachella… I’m serious) and Orlando start hatching plans to play a free show for the many stranded Moz fans who travelled to the Bay Area and now had nothing to do.  Now, none of us were really ready to play a show… having not played together in the last month, and having other plans already in the works (such as Booze, Broads, and Hotrods).  But with Orlie’s blitz to find a venue to host us on literally just a few hour’s notice, and Sus’ stand at the Paramount to redirect traffic to us, we were able to get the Bat Signal out and pull off a last-minute show at the Blackthorn.

It was a lot of fun, and there was no time to stress in the rushing around to get things ready.  We had some of our old friends in attendance, but also many Moz fans from far and wide who were looking for a place to drown their sorrows.  Hopefully they found it with us.  One of Moz’s security crew was in attendance.  It wasn’t Morrissey, but we did our best to be second best.  Hope you all had as much fun as we did.  Many of us ended up at Sparky’s afterwards including some of our new friends.  And holy shit am I sore from last night.  But anyway, so that’s the story.

By the way, check out Sus at about 4:14!

Morrissey @ Coachella 2009 (Ask, Let Me Kiss You)

On to other topics… I hate to say this, but it may finally be time to join that other social networking site.  My impressions so far are that Facebook attracts older people, whether that means your coworkers, or your grad school friends, or even your mom.  Also, it seems to be more stalker-friendly.  I think it’s lame, and I’d be happy to never sign up.  But what it comes down to though is that some of my friends are on there now either exclusively or at least they maintain their profiles better there.  I’ve been resisting a long time, but just to be able to keep in touch with these friends and have sad digital substitutes for human contact with them, I at least want a presence on there.  I don’t have the time or the energy to maintain profiles on both sites.  MySpace is my home, and Facebook will be merely a placeholder for me to maintain a connection to my non-MySpace friends.  (Side note: what a weird time we live in.)

Friday night, I caught Wanda Jackson for the first (and possibly last) time.  She’s getting up there, but she seemed super sweet, and she could still get her voice to do what it was doing 50 years ago, so no complaints here!  There are a couple pics up (from Mari) in my tagged photos, in case you want to see how I look standing next to fun-sized rockabilly royalty.  Today, it was almost 90 degrees in some parts of the city.  Where did all this come from?  The only positive was that intense heat in the Mission and beyond usually means cool and thick fog in my neighborhood, and today was no exception.  Ocean Beach was packed, causing *GASP* actual traffic on the Great Highway.  Had a picante dinner with Jamie.  I was finally forced into going digital with my cable today… which apparently everyone else in the nation has already done.  I’m not thrilled about having to turn on more than one device at a time, but this real time guide is neat.  I’m sure I’ll get used to it in time.

Remember last week I was talking about Highway 1?  Well check this out.  Talk about several drives that give me a heart attack just thinking about them.  But you know, as with playing that unplanned show last night, that spur-of-the-moment choice to take a road home that I never take really was valuable.  These are little things, but they are steps in the right direction.  That spontaneity is important.  Being open to those opportunities not only make me a more well-rounded person, but also fit right into my recent thoughts about not wasting life doing the same thing twice.  These unexpected events are life-enriching.  Even if these things had been disasters, the stories I took from them and the experience I gained would have still made them more valuable than had I taken the same old predictable path.  And the fact that they turned out great, well, all the better!

“A smooth sea never made a skillful mariner.”

English Proverb

This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.

13 April 2009

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  full

Uh oh, two Fight Club quotes in the last three blog titles.  Either Chuck Palahniuk has the meaning of life all sewn up, or I’m in trouble.

It’s been a busy couple of weeks, kiddies.  Work’s been kicking my ass, and I’ve been busy even on nights when I stay home.  Certain people I know turned 30.  What else?  I did make it out to a few good shows lately, too many to remember maybe, but a few that come to mind are local bands The Tunnel (finally!), Jesse Morris and the Man Cougars (again… fuckin’ great!), and a psychobilly night.  Speaking of shows, there are a ton of good ones coming up.  This weekend is Wanda Jackson and Morrissey.  Then further out, I see the ridiculous Red Elvises (whom I’ve seen once before), the New York Dolls, and then… A Camp!  That’s right, the Cardigans’ frontwoman’s side project from 2001 has a second album coming out (finally), and they’re touring the U.S. for the first time ever.  June at the Independent.  Should be excellent!  I’ve been listening enjoying that new album, as well as getting back into Radiohead a little.  (I have Lala to thank for first forcing me to get into them many years ago, and in hindsight, it really was for the best.)

For Easter, I went to see the family… which also meant I had to / got to chase my nieces all over the house.  Kids are fun, but a couple hours of that wore my ass out.  Due to accidents, I hit awful traffic on the way there and would have on the way back too had I not made the executive decision to take Highway 1 back up to SF.  Yes, it was a bit longer, but what a stunning reminder of how much I do not make the most out of living in the beautiful Bay Area.  Miles and miles of amazing views, and more than a few small and secluded beaches, made all the more romantic by the sun going down as I sped past.  Can you imagine a sunset on what is for all intents and purposes your own private beach… ladies?  Hmmm?  Ladies?

Speaking of “ladies,” Sus is back from her Moz tour, with lots of stories, pictures, and all the latest swag.  Shel is back from her triathlon in Hawaii, a trip which was — it seems — tailored to make me feel like I’m wasting my life.  Benjamin, what did you do this weekend?  Eh, I sat on my ass and straightened my apartment up a little bit.  How about you?  Oh, I competed in a triathlon.  In Hawaii.  Betch.  Thanks a lot, Shel!  😛

In my straightening up of my place, I started getting rid of a lot of stuff.  I carried a lot of shit with me when I left home, and I’m really ready to leave that packrat lifestyle behind.  All that junk just weighs you down, and you’ll be dead long before you need any of it.  So here I was, shredding all these notes, documents, and work I’ve done over the years.  Throwing out reference sheets and training manuals for old jobs.  It feels weird to be getting rid of stuff.  Some part of me all these years has said (and still says) keep it, but what have I learned this last year?  I will never need it, life is too short, there’s no time to look back.  If I ever need a training manual for the software I worked on for a living in 2002, I can buy it again.  And more to the point, if I ever find myself needing it again to begin with, that should tell me I’m going the wrong direction in my life.  I never want to do that stuff again.  I’d rather change industries completely, move to another state (or country!) just because hell!  I only have one life to live.  Why spend so much of it doing the same thing in the same place?  On my death bed, don’t I want to be able to look back and say that I tried a little of everything?  I don’t want to spend a whole decade of my precious lifespan beating my head against the same wall.  Go drive a cab in Florida.  Go tend a bar in Mexico.  Go sell books in Ireland.  I don’t know.  Anything.  Anything, however unlikely and unconventional, just for the sake of really truly exploring all the directions your life could take if you didn’t just settle for what’s obvious and easiest like we all fucking do.  And before you know it, *poof* you’re old and what have you got to show for it?  Nothing but years of doing the same thing in the same city, state, whatever.

Sorry to get all heavy there.  But this is important.  One of the things I came across (and kept) was a card from my mother dated 1994… literally half my life ago.  I would have been 15.  It’s a long card describing all the possibilities she saw for me, for the life that at age 15 was still just beginning, with all the things that as a mother she hoped for me, her only son.  The most sacred bond between mother and child.  It ends with “I hope it’s a good life.”

When I read that again after 15 years, the weight of that statement is crushing.  It sounds like what her last words to me would be if she knew she only had one sentence left.  I think about all that’s happened since then, where I am in life, and I feel an awesome responsibility to seek out my own happiness and not waste the opportunity I’ve been given at life.  A responsibility to myself, but also to her and to the people that have sacrificed over decades to put me where I am at this moment.  A responsibility to all the people that care about me.  A responsibility to see that hope realized.  Yes, it’s been a good life, but I’ve been lazy and taken it for granted, and it could be much, much better.  And no one is bound nor able to see to that but me.

“I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.  The proper function of a man is to live, not to exist.”

Jack London

I admit, I was not expecting that.

31 March 2009

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  selective

So I went to this place called Bender’s on Friday night.  I’d never been, but it turns out to be this punk / bike messenger bar, similar to Zeitgeist, but without the Mission hipsters.  The kind of place where (I assume) real punks hang out.  I’m only going by the ripped clothes and the B.O. here, but that’s my guess.  Anyway, my main reason for going was that I had wanted to check out this guy Jesse Morris who was going to be playing.  I’ve seen him busking a few times at the Montgomery BART station, and the guy sounds more like Johnny Cash than any tribute band I’ve heard, and that’s a fact.  I admit that, not being much into punk, I was aesthetically skeptical.  But I wanted to hear his original stuff, and I wanted to hear the full band, “Jesse Morris and the Man Cougars.”  I have to say, I had a hell of a time.  The guy and his music were awesome… charismatic, energetic, funny.  There’s something unsettling about hearing what could be Johnny Cash’s ghost singing dirty songs in old country style, all while inciting a mosh pit.  But needless to say, I was impressed and will definitely try to catch them again.

The headliner that night was an added bonus… a band I’d been meaning to see for years: Cookie Mongoloid.  One of those SF Bay Area phenomena that you owe it to yourself to experience once, I guess.  This is a speed metal Sesame Street cover band.  The band looks like your standard metal group, including a lead guitar player in vest (no shirt) that would be right at home in Dethklok.  The singer comes out in a leather jacket and a full mascot-style Cookie Monster mask.  He sang in the Cookie Monster voice, and even talked in that voice between songs… you know, “me like cookies” and all that.  Not surprisingly, every song was about cookies, including classics like “C Is For Cookie” and some originals(?) like “I Lost Me Cookie In The Mosh Pit.”  He had a homemade double-barrelled pneumatic cookie gun that launched cookies into the crowd and against the ceiling.  They had about a dozen “Cookie Girls” up on stage with them, which was something like Rock Of Love contestants with a furry blue letter “C” on their chests.  During the first couple songs, they came out with buckets full of crushed cookies and relentlessly pelted the crowd with handfuls of crumbs.  Even in the back where I was, I was hit all over and ended up covered in cookie crumbs by the time I got out of there.  In short, I’d hate to be on clean-up duty that night.  Fucking bizarre, but worth seeing once for sure.  Before I move on, best cupcake idea ever:

The rest of the weekend was busy too.  I finally got a new couch, which involved a lot of hassle, twine, and bargaining with my demon-possessed elevator to get it from Palo Alto to my living room.  In addition to getting a ton of help from Dad, I got to eat with the folks and my niece before and after the ordeal.  In the end, I got a cheap (discontinued?) IKEA couch, which also happened to be the most comfortable of all the ones I tried.  It only came in this dark chocolate brown, but I dressed it up with a couple of black and white Victorian floral throw pillows and… well, I’ll stop there.  It looks classy though.  I’m pleased.  And I should mention too that at IKEA, I ran into an old East Bay friend (Kelli) that I hadn’t seen in something like seven years.  Sus is in the Midwest molesting Morrissey.  Shel is back from Hawaii.  I’m sitting right here wasting my life away documenting the sort of details of my life that no one could possibly care about.

Horror of horrors, Boudin has discontinued its butternut squash soup, which has been my only reason for getting out of bed on Wednesdays.  I’m hoping it’s a seasonal thing.  And then I heard that Snapple’s blueberry tea is off the market too.  Seriously folks, what the fuck?  This is not the first time I’ve mentioned this kind of shit.  I’m not that fussy about food, but it seems like the things I particularly like are always disappearing.  Do I just notice it more than most, or am I actually cursed?  On the topic of nostalgia, I could surf Branded In The 80s for hours, if I had hours.  So many stickers and useless garbage I remember from my youth.

OK, before I call it a night, I wanted to mention quickly that I’ve made some progress towards simplifying my life.  I sold a guitar!  Sort of.  I actually talked Dad into just having one.  But same thing.  It feels good to be rid of it.  I did update my MySpace layout in its honor.  Strange, you know selling these guitars would have been unthinkable just weeks ago.  But I’m trying to reject that collector impulse.  I see guys with bigger collections and I feel some envy.  And I don’t like that.  You can’t buy self worth, your possessions don’t define you.  I’ve got some guitars that would be hard or even impossible to replace if I ever changed my mind.  And in that context, it really is hard to let them go.  But they’re just things.  And the things we want in life change over time, right?  It’s hard to imagine me pining for “the one that got away” for the rest of my life.  Oh, if only I hadn’t sold such-and-such a guitar.  I don’t see me doing that.  *sigh*  This is what I mean about it feeling like a burden.  The things you own end up owning you.  Material things are supposed to help facilitate happy times in life, not become the focus of them.  I should be spending more time practicing and learning, and less time dealing with the finding/buying/selling of guitars.  It’s ridiculous, and it completely misses the point.  The loosely-related quote of the week comes from… oh, well you know:

“Genius lasts longer than beauty.”

— Oscar Wilde
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