Love that line. Recently (yesterday) I pulled out my copy of my last band's live recording so I could play along with it. I did this a lot 2 or 3 years ago, especially after the band split, mostly because I still wanted to play but had no band to play with. Like the Rhesus Monkey, I created my own surrogate band to deposit my creativity and emotion (but unlike the Rhesus monkey, my band mates weren't remade with terry cloth. They weren't remade at all. Also, I didn't have that much terry cloth on hand). That recording provided hours of listening and playing even after the death of All Else Fails...
Anyway, I pulled it out yesterday, popped it into the DVD player in the living room, set up my bass, amp, and pedals, and went ahead to relive the dream. I'm already beginning to forget some of the parts. Still, most of the lines are still intact in my brain.
BUT THE LINE....focus on the line...Mike Bay (Our Guitar Player/keyboradist/singer of the time. Not the creator of such popcorn flicks like Transformers and Armageddon) opens the whole set up with,
"Here's the deal. We're kind of a rock/jam band. Uh...we like to jam...so uh...our set tonight is, uh...not exact. It could go a lot of different ways. So uh...just hang with us. We'll get there".
It sounded awkward then, and each and everytime I listen to it. But it's the best opener for us or any other band. Seriously, it would be a great opener for life. It's so humble. It's so brutally honest too: "We are just a rock/jam kind of band. A handful of kids whacking on drums and waving our hands up and down the necks of guitars and basses. This sound could go a lot of different ways. This may not be what you expected. You probably won't get your money's worth. You may hate us. But please, just sit down, listen. This is a ride. We're going to get somewhere. We will find someplace. Together". How proper.
I generally have this problem of romanticizing the past (The band being one of those past moments I render in my mind as something far more beautiful than it actually was). I've started to do that lately. Remembering the good parts of high school and college. Which is bad. It means I'm not engaged in the moment, in the current times, in reality. I'm bored and I look to past events as missed and gone opportunities. Thinking through the "What-if's". It's self damaging. Self-loathing to some degree. When you get bored, when you get trapped, that's sometimes all you can think about. A time when you know (or think you know) things were much better and happier than what is currently happening. It's not, but the brain likes to fool itself. Focusing solely on the beautiful rather than the crap that it mistakenly misplaced in the ol' memory bank.
Another line from our band. From a song entitled, As It All Falls Apart:
"I wish it could all come back. I need it to all come back. When will it all come back, before I fall apart?"
Never. It's said and done. Move forward.
A modern day sage once said, "Nothing good happens without choices". I guess if we want some good we're going to have to make a few decisions.
I've said my peace. Until next time.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
"My Life is a Vast Inconsequential Epic with a Thousand and a Million Characters"
All right. Stop freaking out. I'm back.
My long time friend and associate has been very displeased concerning the lack of blog updates within the last two and a half months. I don't blame him. So, in an effort to settle his mind, mouth and bones, I'm updating. So if this post turns out lame, it's because I was bullied into doing it. And mostly because I have a cloud of guilt hanging over me.
Wow, August 5th was the last entry. To be honest, quite a bit has happened since then. I finally escaped the call center about August 14th. With some ambition, strong feelings on freedom, a couple of grenades and an iron will, you can achieve almost anything. Especially escape from a windowless job.
I also stopped watching Bob Ross as much. I noticed the show doesn't have the same effect on me as it did during my time at the Spherion call center. I would come home on a Tuesday or Thursday night around 11:30. I would turn on the Create channel and listen to his soothing voice as his worn, liver spotted hands manipulated a canvas in ways I never dreamed possible by any other human being. The tambre of his voice, the creation of a serene landscape, and his ability to some degree narrate a story as he made worlds with nothing more than phalo blue and okre yellow put me in a state of mind that could only be aptly termed as, "Zen peace". Yes, each episode was like attaining enlightenment. Happiness is naught but the moment. Surrender desire and suffering. Ohm.
Now, it doesn't give quite the same zen state. It's as if I need a bigger buzz to find that happy place (no, I haven't turned to drugs). Or, more likely, his show served it's purpose for me. Now I'm able to find serenity without the afroed sage explaining how to paint a wave. But, I'm glad he was there for me before, back when I thought there was nothing more to life than answering 50 calls a day and sitting in a chair doing nothing the rest of the time.
Now your question is (if you don't know me. Which I know you're just David. BUT, if by some strange chance you've never met me and now you're reading this, having the absolute time of your life..) where did I go after the call center?
The tea business. That's where.
Suprised? Don't be. It's only my near obsession. Travis Lund, my current boss, hired me on shortly (very shortly) before I escaped the clutches of Spherion. I'm currently serving my time (part-time) at Teavana in Plaza Frontenac (a very high end mall in St. Louis. I'm not bragging, believe you me. I'm actually intimidated everytime I'm there). I stand around most the time, handing out free samples at our sample cart at the entrance of the store. I drink a lot of free tea. Sometimes an individual, or a couple, or even a whole family or crowd of friends come in and want to buy tea to take home and brew and have little tea parties. And I always get the question, "What's the smallest amount I can buy?"
You've got to be kidding me.
I know you make a lot. You shop in this mall. You just bought pants from Saks Fifth Avenue, or Banana Republic, or Juicy that probably costs 2 weeks worth of wages from my part time job, and you can only shell out 20 bucks? You buy a freaking pound of coffee from Starbucks (or drink a pound of it each week when you go to order a latte. Don't lie to me!), and a pound or half pound of tea is "too much"? Dumb. Buy more tea. That way you're healthy, you have a tasty drink to have at home, and I make sales. Yes, I need to make sales so I don't have to go to sleep at night wondering, "Will Travis throw me out of the tea business? Literally, throw me out?"
It doesn't matter. You consumers are American, and you're obviously not raging capitalists. You're Americans and you like tea about as much as you like to watch or care about Soccer when it's NOT the World Cup. You know what you like. Who says that Americans are blind consumers? They know what to buy in these trying economic times.
Alright, enough of that.
On another note, David Lechner is married to his beautiful and wonderful wife Kathryn, who is, by the way, the only Kathryn I know to spell her name in such a cool way. I know, it really wasn't her decision, she just followed through with it. So Kathryn, tell your parents nice job on spelling it like that.
The wedding was great. I got to see Oregon, hang out with asians, stand next to Dave and be his best man; Dave got a wife. Everyone wins. Oh, and delicious pie and cake were involved.
Dave had a lot of great people who helped make the wedding not only possible but a very beautiful event (with the exception of the photographer. See Dave Lechner's blog). Tom is a mad man on piano (and Pokemon). A great and very memorable weekend altogether (I could go into better details, but I'm very hungry. Still have yet to eat breakfast).
I haven't much more to say beyond that. Those were by far the greatest details of the gaping hole of time I neglected to fill in on "Revenge of the Living Blog". Hopefully (prayerfully) there will be more blogs to blog. Hopefully I will take advantage of the dead air in my life and type some stuff down. Take care, have a safe Halloween. Don't trick or treat by yourself. Always bring a buddy. Don't go to houses that look like they'll hand out heroin (unless you're into that sort of thing. Even then, I advise to get off the smack). I'll be back here sometime in the near future.
Peace.
My long time friend and associate has been very displeased concerning the lack of blog updates within the last two and a half months. I don't blame him. So, in an effort to settle his mind, mouth and bones, I'm updating. So if this post turns out lame, it's because I was bullied into doing it. And mostly because I have a cloud of guilt hanging over me.
Wow, August 5th was the last entry. To be honest, quite a bit has happened since then. I finally escaped the call center about August 14th. With some ambition, strong feelings on freedom, a couple of grenades and an iron will, you can achieve almost anything. Especially escape from a windowless job.
I also stopped watching Bob Ross as much. I noticed the show doesn't have the same effect on me as it did during my time at the Spherion call center. I would come home on a Tuesday or Thursday night around 11:30. I would turn on the Create channel and listen to his soothing voice as his worn, liver spotted hands manipulated a canvas in ways I never dreamed possible by any other human being. The tambre of his voice, the creation of a serene landscape, and his ability to some degree narrate a story as he made worlds with nothing more than phalo blue and okre yellow put me in a state of mind that could only be aptly termed as, "Zen peace". Yes, each episode was like attaining enlightenment. Happiness is naught but the moment. Surrender desire and suffering. Ohm.
Now, it doesn't give quite the same zen state. It's as if I need a bigger buzz to find that happy place (no, I haven't turned to drugs). Or, more likely, his show served it's purpose for me. Now I'm able to find serenity without the afroed sage explaining how to paint a wave. But, I'm glad he was there for me before, back when I thought there was nothing more to life than answering 50 calls a day and sitting in a chair doing nothing the rest of the time.
Now your question is (if you don't know me. Which I know you're just David. BUT, if by some strange chance you've never met me and now you're reading this, having the absolute time of your life..) where did I go after the call center?
The tea business. That's where.
Suprised? Don't be. It's only my near obsession. Travis Lund, my current boss, hired me on shortly (very shortly) before I escaped the clutches of Spherion. I'm currently serving my time (part-time) at Teavana in Plaza Frontenac (a very high end mall in St. Louis. I'm not bragging, believe you me. I'm actually intimidated everytime I'm there). I stand around most the time, handing out free samples at our sample cart at the entrance of the store. I drink a lot of free tea. Sometimes an individual, or a couple, or even a whole family or crowd of friends come in and want to buy tea to take home and brew and have little tea parties. And I always get the question, "What's the smallest amount I can buy?"
You've got to be kidding me.
I know you make a lot. You shop in this mall. You just bought pants from Saks Fifth Avenue, or Banana Republic, or Juicy that probably costs 2 weeks worth of wages from my part time job, and you can only shell out 20 bucks? You buy a freaking pound of coffee from Starbucks (or drink a pound of it each week when you go to order a latte. Don't lie to me!), and a pound or half pound of tea is "too much"? Dumb. Buy more tea. That way you're healthy, you have a tasty drink to have at home, and I make sales. Yes, I need to make sales so I don't have to go to sleep at night wondering, "Will Travis throw me out of the tea business? Literally, throw me out?"
It doesn't matter. You consumers are American, and you're obviously not raging capitalists. You're Americans and you like tea about as much as you like to watch or care about Soccer when it's NOT the World Cup. You know what you like. Who says that Americans are blind consumers? They know what to buy in these trying economic times.
Alright, enough of that.
On another note, David Lechner is married to his beautiful and wonderful wife Kathryn, who is, by the way, the only Kathryn I know to spell her name in such a cool way. I know, it really wasn't her decision, she just followed through with it. So Kathryn, tell your parents nice job on spelling it like that.
The wedding was great. I got to see Oregon, hang out with asians, stand next to Dave and be his best man; Dave got a wife. Everyone wins. Oh, and delicious pie and cake were involved.
Dave had a lot of great people who helped make the wedding not only possible but a very beautiful event (with the exception of the photographer. See Dave Lechner's blog). Tom is a mad man on piano (and Pokemon). A great and very memorable weekend altogether (I could go into better details, but I'm very hungry. Still have yet to eat breakfast).
I haven't much more to say beyond that. Those were by far the greatest details of the gaping hole of time I neglected to fill in on "Revenge of the Living Blog". Hopefully (prayerfully) there will be more blogs to blog. Hopefully I will take advantage of the dead air in my life and type some stuff down. Take care, have a safe Halloween. Don't trick or treat by yourself. Always bring a buddy. Don't go to houses that look like they'll hand out heroin (unless you're into that sort of thing. Even then, I advise to get off the smack). I'll be back here sometime in the near future.
Peace.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Life Is Donkey Kong
Well I made it to Chicago and back with little to no problem. Parking in Chicago is awful ($19 a day to park in the lower lot of the McCormick conference center, $15 a day to park at the Hyatt Regency). Of all the expenses I paid for while in Chicago (Gas, food, misc.) parking was about half. Which was not what I was expecting. But things worked out because Spherion directed a deposit into my checking account while I stayed in Chicago. Thanks Spherion.
"Well, you're the one who spent hours in a chair, staring at a screen talking to customers about their rewards points."
Ah, yes. That's right. I did do that in order to earn the money.
Like I said before, this was my first adventure to Chicago. Sorry I didn't update while I was there, but there was no free wifi (I mean, it's Chicago). The Hyatt was asking for $10-$15 for 24 hours of internet use. I opted to keep my money. I figured it was not dire that I had access to the internet.
The place what beautiful. Lot's of construction going on all through Illinois though. The deep dish pizza tasted good. Had some watermelon Italian ice with Lauren Cox, Craig Peterson, and Ira Erum at a little pizza spot not too far from the hotel. I got to drive through China town, which for me of course is a real treat. Let's see...there was a random marathon Sunday morning near the conference center. Josh Strauther from the LA church rode with me over to the conference center. We were already running late because you need your hotel key to escape the hotel parking garage. Another thing you need is to pay the $45 dollars for 3 days of parking before the machine (Yes. Machine. Freaking robots) allows you leave the parking garage. So, we're trying to catch up and get to the conference center (Well, getting to isn't really what needed to be done. The hotel was already a siamese twin/tumour to the EXTREMELY large McCormick center. Really, we just needed to drive around to the other side of it to park in the lower lot and make our way to the Arie Crown Theater) to practice for the Sunday morning service. As we go down 31st (I'm not sure on that number. It was something like that) toward Lake Shore Drive, we see part of Lake Shore Drive is blocked off. But why? A freaking Marathon. So, there's this random marathon happening right where we need to turn in. We do make it to the lower lot, race toward the Arie Crown Theater, and show up a half hour late. Despite all that, the car ride there was hilarious.
No one ever expects the Chicago marathon...
Sorry for that long story/anecdote/rant.
Anyway, the weekend was also incredibly refreshing spiritually as well as mentally and emotionally. I got to see a lot of people I haven't seen in at least a year, like Carl Sullivan and John Hyon. Met a lot of new people. Most of the new people I met served and played in the worship which may have been the best part of the weekend. The Arie Crown Theater seats about 4,000 people. We had about 2,000 college students attending the conference. Each night we played a set of worship music to 2,000 fired up college students. It was miraculous and placed me in a spot that made me feel completely and wholy intuned with everything. When I played and worshiped I was living inside the moment, focused on God and the rhythms, united in a beautiful way with all these people. Then on Sunday, the Chicago church as well as all the conference attendees from all over the country (and some from Canada, the Carribean, and South Africa) came together, filling the theater out completely. Amazing is the most simple and apt description I can give.
This past weekend was a weekend that gave me a certain hope. For a while my hope and dreams were beginning to dissipate. I was losing faith in what could be, what I wanted for myself in the future, and I figured all of what I dreamed of was impossible. I've reached my own conclusions that that is not entirely true.
Before I left, I started to study out in the Bible what it means to seek God. In the back of my smaller Bible I have a little concordence/index. I looked up 'seek' and read all the scriptures listed. One scripture I focused mainly on is from Matthew 6 where it says, "Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things will be given to you." I figured in order to see God, we must know what the kingdom is as well as righteousness.
After looking more, reading more, I came to the conclusion that if I want to seek God, I have to follow Jesus. "No one comes to the father except through me." That made sense to me, so I decided to follow Jesus through the gospels starting with Matthew (which I'm close to finishing).
When I was packing for the ICMC (International Campus Ministry Conference) I didn't know what the theme would be about or what sort of lessons were planned. So when I arrived and saw that the theme was "Follow Me", I was a little shocked. Just prior to driving up to Chicago I decided this is what I needed to do and study out in order to seek God. Things were beginning to align. Throughout the weekend I continued to read through Matthew, and as I did, the lessons in the evening would focus on scriptures I had read earlier that day. Not to be egotistical, but I think God prepared my heart for this weekend so that I would be attentive as well as impacted by the whole event.
There were also a lot of classes and lessons about the one-year challenge, the one-year challenge being taking a year out of your professional or academic life and going to another church to help in it's development and expand God's kingdom. There's a great need for it now, especially in places like South Africa, China, Turkey, Salt Lake City, and Anchorage Alaska.
This is something that has been on my heart for at least the last year. My passion for it dwindled considerably, as I said before I was losing my dreams thinking things like a full time job would put me down. Listening to people talk about the one-year challenge rekindled my dreams and desire to serve wherever in the world God wants me. If I could, I would go around the world for the rest of my life doing this, but that may not be in the play book. Hopefully, prayerfully, I can do the one-year challenge in the not-so distant future. Already I'm talking to a disciple in China about coming over and teaching English and help strengthen the churches there.
There's so much more I could talk about, but I feel like I've written too much.
As for the title of the post, I thought I would get to it sooner in my train of thought but apparently not. It was something I said during the course of the weekend. "Life is Donkey Kong" meaning, if life is some grand game, it wouldn't be one with bosses. We all have different bosses to face, we don't all live the same life and struggles, so to think of life as a Mario or Zelda or Final Fantasy game would not be true. Life is a high scoring game. You do the best possible, whatever that may be, and submit your score. Like Donkey Kong (the old one. Not Country). So, Life is Donkey Kong.
That didn't really have anything to do with the other 65 sentences, come to think of it.
Hope you enjoyed. Later gators.
"Well, you're the one who spent hours in a chair, staring at a screen talking to customers about their rewards points."
Ah, yes. That's right. I did do that in order to earn the money.
Like I said before, this was my first adventure to Chicago. Sorry I didn't update while I was there, but there was no free wifi (I mean, it's Chicago). The Hyatt was asking for $10-$15 for 24 hours of internet use. I opted to keep my money. I figured it was not dire that I had access to the internet.
The place what beautiful. Lot's of construction going on all through Illinois though. The deep dish pizza tasted good. Had some watermelon Italian ice with Lauren Cox, Craig Peterson, and Ira Erum at a little pizza spot not too far from the hotel. I got to drive through China town, which for me of course is a real treat. Let's see...there was a random marathon Sunday morning near the conference center. Josh Strauther from the LA church rode with me over to the conference center. We were already running late because you need your hotel key to escape the hotel parking garage. Another thing you need is to pay the $45 dollars for 3 days of parking before the machine (Yes. Machine. Freaking robots) allows you leave the parking garage. So, we're trying to catch up and get to the conference center (Well, getting to isn't really what needed to be done. The hotel was already a siamese twin/tumour to the EXTREMELY large McCormick center. Really, we just needed to drive around to the other side of it to park in the lower lot and make our way to the Arie Crown Theater) to practice for the Sunday morning service. As we go down 31st (I'm not sure on that number. It was something like that) toward Lake Shore Drive, we see part of Lake Shore Drive is blocked off. But why? A freaking Marathon. So, there's this random marathon happening right where we need to turn in. We do make it to the lower lot, race toward the Arie Crown Theater, and show up a half hour late. Despite all that, the car ride there was hilarious.
No one ever expects the Chicago marathon...
Sorry for that long story/anecdote/rant.
Anyway, the weekend was also incredibly refreshing spiritually as well as mentally and emotionally. I got to see a lot of people I haven't seen in at least a year, like Carl Sullivan and John Hyon. Met a lot of new people. Most of the new people I met served and played in the worship which may have been the best part of the weekend. The Arie Crown Theater seats about 4,000 people. We had about 2,000 college students attending the conference. Each night we played a set of worship music to 2,000 fired up college students. It was miraculous and placed me in a spot that made me feel completely and wholy intuned with everything. When I played and worshiped I was living inside the moment, focused on God and the rhythms, united in a beautiful way with all these people. Then on Sunday, the Chicago church as well as all the conference attendees from all over the country (and some from Canada, the Carribean, and South Africa) came together, filling the theater out completely. Amazing is the most simple and apt description I can give.
This past weekend was a weekend that gave me a certain hope. For a while my hope and dreams were beginning to dissipate. I was losing faith in what could be, what I wanted for myself in the future, and I figured all of what I dreamed of was impossible. I've reached my own conclusions that that is not entirely true.
Before I left, I started to study out in the Bible what it means to seek God. In the back of my smaller Bible I have a little concordence/index. I looked up 'seek' and read all the scriptures listed. One scripture I focused mainly on is from Matthew 6 where it says, "Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things will be given to you." I figured in order to see God, we must know what the kingdom is as well as righteousness.
After looking more, reading more, I came to the conclusion that if I want to seek God, I have to follow Jesus. "No one comes to the father except through me." That made sense to me, so I decided to follow Jesus through the gospels starting with Matthew (which I'm close to finishing).
When I was packing for the ICMC (International Campus Ministry Conference) I didn't know what the theme would be about or what sort of lessons were planned. So when I arrived and saw that the theme was "Follow Me", I was a little shocked. Just prior to driving up to Chicago I decided this is what I needed to do and study out in order to seek God. Things were beginning to align. Throughout the weekend I continued to read through Matthew, and as I did, the lessons in the evening would focus on scriptures I had read earlier that day. Not to be egotistical, but I think God prepared my heart for this weekend so that I would be attentive as well as impacted by the whole event.
There were also a lot of classes and lessons about the one-year challenge, the one-year challenge being taking a year out of your professional or academic life and going to another church to help in it's development and expand God's kingdom. There's a great need for it now, especially in places like South Africa, China, Turkey, Salt Lake City, and Anchorage Alaska.
This is something that has been on my heart for at least the last year. My passion for it dwindled considerably, as I said before I was losing my dreams thinking things like a full time job would put me down. Listening to people talk about the one-year challenge rekindled my dreams and desire to serve wherever in the world God wants me. If I could, I would go around the world for the rest of my life doing this, but that may not be in the play book. Hopefully, prayerfully, I can do the one-year challenge in the not-so distant future. Already I'm talking to a disciple in China about coming over and teaching English and help strengthen the churches there.
There's so much more I could talk about, but I feel like I've written too much.
As for the title of the post, I thought I would get to it sooner in my train of thought but apparently not. It was something I said during the course of the weekend. "Life is Donkey Kong" meaning, if life is some grand game, it wouldn't be one with bosses. We all have different bosses to face, we don't all live the same life and struggles, so to think of life as a Mario or Zelda or Final Fantasy game would not be true. Life is a high scoring game. You do the best possible, whatever that may be, and submit your score. Like Donkey Kong (the old one. Not Country). So, Life is Donkey Kong.
That didn't really have anything to do with the other 65 sentences, come to think of it.
Hope you enjoyed. Later gators.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Let's Close Out July With One More Post.
Since I have squandered this month away, I might as well. This month has been something. Like the famous (Or maybe infamous. Or maybe...nothing at all) month of July from 2007, July 2010 came and went like a demon apparition. To further detail my similie, a demon apparition from Ghost Hunters. It was like a subtle movement of shadow down a long dark corridor. A trick of the light. Perhaps a faint moan eminated from another realm just to reassure the witnesses the spirit was there for a moment, if anything. Or, perhaps it was just cat, slipping past giving a very low meow just before it disappeared. Either way, cat or demon apparition, this month came and left quickly, as if it were never there to begin with.
I have been working at my call center job for about 2 weeks now. I'm looking for the nearest exit though. Any sort of peep hole to tear open and slip through in order to see the light of day again (both figuratively and literally. There's absolutely no windows at my job. Like I'm in a fluorescent cave. Or prison. But I'm pretty sure even prison has windows. Never went to prison, so I couldn't be the authority on that subject.) would be taken advantage of immediately. I would also appreciate it much.
But, C'est la vie. I'm here. Trapped. Bricked in for the time being. No insane travels. Just here, still living with the parents, with a slight trickle of income. Keeping everyone else content with the notion that I'm working.
Our church is having it's annual International Campus Ministry Conference this weekend in Chicago. Very excited about it. I get to leave tomorrow, be gone for four days, and play music. Really, I'm planning to just live in Chicago. Not coming back. Staying there so I can plant my roots away from St. Louis for awhile. It would be an excuse to not go back and work with Spherion at the call center. I don't think I've ever been to Chicago...so this might be first. Very excited about going and not coming back. I'll try to make a few posts while I'm there though. Sort of as an exercise in travel writing.
I have been working at my call center job for about 2 weeks now. I'm looking for the nearest exit though. Any sort of peep hole to tear open and slip through in order to see the light of day again (both figuratively and literally. There's absolutely no windows at my job. Like I'm in a fluorescent cave. Or prison. But I'm pretty sure even prison has windows. Never went to prison, so I couldn't be the authority on that subject.) would be taken advantage of immediately. I would also appreciate it much.
But, C'est la vie. I'm here. Trapped. Bricked in for the time being. No insane travels. Just here, still living with the parents, with a slight trickle of income. Keeping everyone else content with the notion that I'm working.
Our church is having it's annual International Campus Ministry Conference this weekend in Chicago. Very excited about it. I get to leave tomorrow, be gone for four days, and play music. Really, I'm planning to just live in Chicago. Not coming back. Staying there so I can plant my roots away from St. Louis for awhile. It would be an excuse to not go back and work with Spherion at the call center. I don't think I've ever been to Chicago...so this might be first. Very excited about going and not coming back. I'll try to make a few posts while I'm there though. Sort of as an exercise in travel writing.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Hey Nerds, I'm Back.
And when I say, "Hey nerds" I know I'm actually just talking to David Lechner. Way to be, man. You make me feel as if my words do have some weight. Or at least a little bit of meaning.
That boy is getting married, too. Which is terrifying. For me. I don't know about him (See "1 Comments" at the bottom of this post later in the week).
Marriage itself is terrifying. Actually the whole process, not even just the marriage part, is terrifying. From, "Hey, I kinda like you" to "I do" is a whole long, tedious process. I can't even begin to imagine all the stuff after, "You may kiss the bride". It's too much. My little mind and heart can't handle it. That's why I'm going to be single for quite sometime. I'll tell the ladies out there right now, flat out, that if you even have anywhere from an atom of feeling for me all the way to crazed obssession, you'll just have to wait. Wait 15 years, then when you find me in Bangladesh, New Delhi, Tibet, Okanawa, Rio De Janeiro, Seattle or wherever I happen to be, and you're still interested, then I just might say "Okay, yeah sure." Until then...I've got some things to do.
Speaking of terrifying things in life...full time jobs. Jobs you work at 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, and include much fewer days of vacation than school. Yeah, tell me that's not terrifying. Doing the same dumb thing ALL THE TIME. No escape. Entrapment. I have just recently been hired on for a customer service/call center position. I've been in training from last Tuesday to Friday. I think I hate it. I need to get a job I enjoy, or go back to school and get my ESL certificate so I can leave this place and see the world. Or go back to school for something of worth. Any ideas?
I didn't really have anything to say, just wanted to kill some time and thought to update the ol' blog while I have internet access on the laptop. Take care readers (Dave). Sorry to have rushed this, but it is time for me to leave and attend other engagements.
Peace.
That boy is getting married, too. Which is terrifying. For me. I don't know about him (See "1 Comments" at the bottom of this post later in the week).
Marriage itself is terrifying. Actually the whole process, not even just the marriage part, is terrifying. From, "Hey, I kinda like you" to "I do" is a whole long, tedious process. I can't even begin to imagine all the stuff after, "You may kiss the bride". It's too much. My little mind and heart can't handle it. That's why I'm going to be single for quite sometime. I'll tell the ladies out there right now, flat out, that if you even have anywhere from an atom of feeling for me all the way to crazed obssession, you'll just have to wait. Wait 15 years, then when you find me in Bangladesh, New Delhi, Tibet, Okanawa, Rio De Janeiro, Seattle or wherever I happen to be, and you're still interested, then I just might say "Okay, yeah sure." Until then...I've got some things to do.
Speaking of terrifying things in life...full time jobs. Jobs you work at 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, and include much fewer days of vacation than school. Yeah, tell me that's not terrifying. Doing the same dumb thing ALL THE TIME. No escape. Entrapment. I have just recently been hired on for a customer service/call center position. I've been in training from last Tuesday to Friday. I think I hate it. I need to get a job I enjoy, or go back to school and get my ESL certificate so I can leave this place and see the world. Or go back to school for something of worth. Any ideas?
I didn't really have anything to say, just wanted to kill some time and thought to update the ol' blog while I have internet access on the laptop. Take care readers (Dave). Sorry to have rushed this, but it is time for me to leave and attend other engagements.
Peace.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
I Want To Start A Book Club
Now, this may sound like another one of those whims I so often have. And it kind of is, but let me assure you, I've put some thought into it. I've logged probably a total of ten minutes of thought into it. It's nerdy, and if anything, 45 year old women have book clubs and they read things like Jane Austen, or one of those new female writers who depicts life in such an honest way, what with all the abuse and madness of the world. Then the members eat chocolate, or make cookies, and serve lemonade or ice tea.
I won't have that.
I will have awesome books. None of this Oprah Winfrey stuff. The spectrum of literature I choose will be quite wide. And it will include zombies and space aliens. Along with the more high brow, philosophical gems.
And there will be of course tea. But I'm not talking about old English woman with cakes and biscuits served on a tray with earl grey and milk. We're drinking asian tea, out of pots crafted by the most skilled Chinese or Japanese artisans.
I say all of this, but in the end no one will be willing to join. In the end, it shall be me, alone in my room wearing a kimono, drinking hot sencha, reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, discussing the implications of the word quality, as it pertains to the objective and subjective, with a group of stuffed animals.
But, a man can dream...
I won't have that.
I will have awesome books. None of this Oprah Winfrey stuff. The spectrum of literature I choose will be quite wide. And it will include zombies and space aliens. Along with the more high brow, philosophical gems.
And there will be of course tea. But I'm not talking about old English woman with cakes and biscuits served on a tray with earl grey and milk. We're drinking asian tea, out of pots crafted by the most skilled Chinese or Japanese artisans.
I say all of this, but in the end no one will be willing to join. In the end, it shall be me, alone in my room wearing a kimono, drinking hot sencha, reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, discussing the implications of the word quality, as it pertains to the objective and subjective, with a group of stuffed animals.
But, a man can dream...
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
The Sun Awaits For Our Emergence From Cave Of Gloom.
The first of June has finally arrived. We've rocketed through winter and spring to finally be...here. Summer (unofficially according to astronomical(?) standards. But it's freaking warm out there. Plus, bar-b-ques, screaming children, and open pools make it seem as though the season has arrived). A fantastic time of the year. Lot's of great memories. A couple of crappy ones sprinkled in there, but they can be easily dismissed. When summer comes, happy thoughts sprout from my brain. So in other words, I'm feeling good right now and the cloud of gloom that normally casts a shadow on me is beginning to disperse.
One of the greatest God given things (on the long list of things): Tea. I've been sipping double green matcha tea from Republic of Tea this morning. With a little bit of honey, it's quite possibly one of the best tasting beverages.
I'm off the coffee finally. I've stopped brewing three cups a day about a month and a half ago. I still have it from time to time when it's available at a friend's place. Trying to stop my intake of caffine completely, but a soda or a cup of coffee manages to enter my system every so often. If I didn't have friends I would probably be able to go cold turkey. Unfortunately, I know some very hospitable people who like coffee and offer it to their guests. Same goes for soda. Despite all that, even if I end up ceasing my dependence on caffinated products, I don't know what will happen. I may start to tweek out. I'll refuse to eat, and if I do I'll just vomit it back up. I won't be able to sleep at night. I'll just sit in a corner of my room, screaming...
I suppose I also need to comletely stop drinking black tea, if I'm wishing to achieve this goal. That probably won't happen.
I have to wash the cat today.
Well, I don't have to. But I offered. And because she's a stupid animal, and I would love to see her writhe in anguish as I scrub her dandruffed back with medicated shampoo. It's sadistic. But not many of you understand. This cat annoys me, and loves doing it. So, in a way, I'm getting her back while I perform a favor for her (and my dear mother) that she won't ever understand, even in the long run. Why? Because she's a dumb animal. Cats nor any other animal have that sort of perspective. She sleeps all day. She's sleeping right now. I should toss her in a bathtub of water right now and screw up her whole day. But I won't. She looks too cute right now. Freakin' cat.
Her persepective of reality and life itself is small, if existent at all. She sleeps. She gets fed. She goes outside to chase bugs. She poops in a box of scented sand. A very very very small world if you ask me. But you didn't, so I digress.
OR DO I? Look, doesn't anyone ever get mad at their pet? And when I say mad, I don't mean, "Lichtenstien! I can't believe you peed everywhere! My vintage He-man action figure collection is ruined!". No, I mean envious. A burning hatred of the easy going life those animals lead. Look at Annie (figuratively. I know she's not visible to you). She sleeps. Yet, she has all the benefits. She eats for free. She has free room and board. Free medical. Free spa/massage treatment. And she sleeps! And she will have all those benefits for the rest of her life. I sometimes think about putting her back out into the wild. Fend for herself. She'll die, you say? Too bad, she shouldn't have been so freaking lazy. I've tried to train her to be a vicious attack cat but with no avail.
Okay, now I digress. Now I shove that mangy animal underwater.
One of the greatest God given things (on the long list of things): Tea. I've been sipping double green matcha tea from Republic of Tea this morning. With a little bit of honey, it's quite possibly one of the best tasting beverages.
I'm off the coffee finally. I've stopped brewing three cups a day about a month and a half ago. I still have it from time to time when it's available at a friend's place. Trying to stop my intake of caffine completely, but a soda or a cup of coffee manages to enter my system every so often. If I didn't have friends I would probably be able to go cold turkey. Unfortunately, I know some very hospitable people who like coffee and offer it to their guests. Same goes for soda. Despite all that, even if I end up ceasing my dependence on caffinated products, I don't know what will happen. I may start to tweek out. I'll refuse to eat, and if I do I'll just vomit it back up. I won't be able to sleep at night. I'll just sit in a corner of my room, screaming...
I suppose I also need to comletely stop drinking black tea, if I'm wishing to achieve this goal. That probably won't happen.
I have to wash the cat today.
Well, I don't have to. But I offered. And because she's a stupid animal, and I would love to see her writhe in anguish as I scrub her dandruffed back with medicated shampoo. It's sadistic. But not many of you understand. This cat annoys me, and loves doing it. So, in a way, I'm getting her back while I perform a favor for her (and my dear mother) that she won't ever understand, even in the long run. Why? Because she's a dumb animal. Cats nor any other animal have that sort of perspective. She sleeps all day. She's sleeping right now. I should toss her in a bathtub of water right now and screw up her whole day. But I won't. She looks too cute right now. Freakin' cat.
Her persepective of reality and life itself is small, if existent at all. She sleeps. She gets fed. She goes outside to chase bugs. She poops in a box of scented sand. A very very very small world if you ask me. But you didn't, so I digress.
OR DO I? Look, doesn't anyone ever get mad at their pet? And when I say mad, I don't mean, "Lichtenstien! I can't believe you peed everywhere! My vintage He-man action figure collection is ruined!". No, I mean envious. A burning hatred of the easy going life those animals lead. Look at Annie (figuratively. I know she's not visible to you). She sleeps. Yet, she has all the benefits. She eats for free. She has free room and board. Free medical. Free spa/massage treatment. And she sleeps! And she will have all those benefits for the rest of her life. I sometimes think about putting her back out into the wild. Fend for herself. She'll die, you say? Too bad, she shouldn't have been so freaking lazy. I've tried to train her to be a vicious attack cat but with no avail.
Okay, now I digress. Now I shove that mangy animal underwater.
Monday, May 24, 2010
While Sitting In The Living Room Of My Parent's Home...
Hey friends.
I've decided to give it a shot and attempt at updating this thing more than once a month. Even if I don't really have much to say. Which, right now, I don't. But everybody's got something. If there is one thing show and tell taught me, everybody generally has something to either show or tell. Or both.
Like this scar on my foot from last year when a mysterious lump appeared, which after a few days after it's arrival, I poked it with a pin in the hopes it might be some sort of blister. I washed the pin first too. Didn't do a whole lot, because the lump became a larger, painful, puss filled purple blotch. Surgery happened so my toes wouldn't have to be surgically removed. Or fall off.
That made last year interesting. Along with losing my voice for a month in February and March, getting a good dose of poison ivy on my body, and a nasty ingrown toenail not too long after my foot finally fully healed from surgery.
Last year was interesting. I keep looking back and all the years that came before it. Events filled those years, from the fantastic to the, "I'm glad I'm here and not there" moments. This year, nearly five months, has been the year of "Not a whole lot". That's what I answer when people ask what I've been up to. It's getting to a point where I'm almost as ashamed to make that statement as I would be to make this one: "I'm 23 and I still wet the bed. Profusely".
I really want to say something about myself. I want to do something great, and I've been saying that for months, but with nothing to show. I still don't know what meaningful thing I want to accomplish. My self confidence is in about the same shape as my creativity.
"Aww look at them. They're just sleeping. Their flesh is also deteriorating, but they're just sleeping. They'll wake back up."
We'll see. And hope.
Sometimes when I listen to Dream Theater I can't help but think of MegaMan.
What? Mike, focus. Or go play with your Legos.
They should totally make Lego the movie. But I don't want it to be CGI. I want giant plastic Lego people walking around. Lego people probably have it easy. They lose a limb, all they have to do is pop it back on. Car breaks down, snap on new pieces. They don't need people working in trades. They all know how to build their own houses and cars. And spaceships. Heck, if a five year old could do it, then surely the people of Lego land could make their own homes and vehicles.
My wrist is cramping. I gotta give it a rest.
More blogging to come. So, keep an eye out or something.
I've decided to give it a shot and attempt at updating this thing more than once a month. Even if I don't really have much to say. Which, right now, I don't. But everybody's got something. If there is one thing show and tell taught me, everybody generally has something to either show or tell. Or both.
Like this scar on my foot from last year when a mysterious lump appeared, which after a few days after it's arrival, I poked it with a pin in the hopes it might be some sort of blister. I washed the pin first too. Didn't do a whole lot, because the lump became a larger, painful, puss filled purple blotch. Surgery happened so my toes wouldn't have to be surgically removed. Or fall off.
That made last year interesting. Along with losing my voice for a month in February and March, getting a good dose of poison ivy on my body, and a nasty ingrown toenail not too long after my foot finally fully healed from surgery.
Last year was interesting. I keep looking back and all the years that came before it. Events filled those years, from the fantastic to the, "I'm glad I'm here and not there" moments. This year, nearly five months, has been the year of "Not a whole lot". That's what I answer when people ask what I've been up to. It's getting to a point where I'm almost as ashamed to make that statement as I would be to make this one: "I'm 23 and I still wet the bed. Profusely".
I really want to say something about myself. I want to do something great, and I've been saying that for months, but with nothing to show. I still don't know what meaningful thing I want to accomplish. My self confidence is in about the same shape as my creativity.
"Aww look at them. They're just sleeping. Their flesh is also deteriorating, but they're just sleeping. They'll wake back up."
We'll see. And hope.
Sometimes when I listen to Dream Theater I can't help but think of MegaMan.
What? Mike, focus. Or go play with your Legos.
They should totally make Lego the movie. But I don't want it to be CGI. I want giant plastic Lego people walking around. Lego people probably have it easy. They lose a limb, all they have to do is pop it back on. Car breaks down, snap on new pieces. They don't need people working in trades. They all know how to build their own houses and cars. And spaceships. Heck, if a five year old could do it, then surely the people of Lego land could make their own homes and vehicles.
My wrist is cramping. I gotta give it a rest.
More blogging to come. So, keep an eye out or something.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Should I Give Up My Childhood and Move On?
Lately, I've had this frightening urge to get rid of the Super Nintendo. I say lately, but actually, come to think of it, I've had this feeling for several years now. Part of me says, "Mike, the 90's are long gone. Get over it, and walk forward, through the dark curtain of the future." Another part then says, "Mike, what joy will you have in this world when that console and all the games are gone? What if one day, a few months down the line, you want to play Super Mario All-Stars, or Dave comes into town but there's no TMNT IV: Turtles in Time? And your children, think about your children! You want to bring them up right, with a knowledge of a better time, forcing them to relive your childhood by watching Ren & Stimpy and The Adventures of Pete and Pete, and feed them Dunkaroos." Then the negative side says, "Mike, you're kids won't give a crap. These 3-dimensional HD graphics take sprite images and mash them until their nothing but juice. 16-bit graphics are dead, Michael. And you need to accept that. Plus, there will always be Zelda and Mario Kart. Just not...your idea of Zelda and Mario Kart."
The 16-bit age offered a lot of challenge. To be rather honest, I had (and actually still have) more difficulty playing old SNES games than these new PS3/Wii/XBox 360 games. Such as a little game called Super Ghouls and Ghosts. Probably one of the most difficult 16-bit games I ever invested time into. Never made it to the third level. Well, maybe once. But the game only had about 10 levels. That's it. No side missions. No online multiplayer. Didn't have to collect all the secret beans to get the ultimate sword. Yet, somehow, it provided hours of entertainment (and frustration). AND TETRIS! Incredibly simple concept. I put so much time into that game on the old big gray brick Gameboy (Pokemon and Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening also stole many hours of my life). SNES and Genesis were so simple. They had like 8 buttons, yet there was so much strategy and timing involved.
I do believe that we should give a nod to Wii for at least making the attempt to retrieve all that once was. Thank you for making playing cartridge games on a next gen game console possible.
Ah. And multiplayer used to be more intimate. There was a time when the person you were against would be sitting in the same room, no more than three feet from you. Now they can be hundreds of thousands of miles away. The internet has made a lot possible. You can play almost any game with anyone around the world. Only thing is, you can't slap the controller out of their hand as you're playing Mario Kart. Ah, childhood.
Okay, enough reminiscing. I feel like an old man. And I'm not.
You hang around a little longer Super Nintendo. The day you finally die will be the day I release you from servitude. Or more acurately, our friendship. We've had a good 16 years. I hope we can have 16 more.
The 16-bit age offered a lot of challenge. To be rather honest, I had (and actually still have) more difficulty playing old SNES games than these new PS3/Wii/XBox 360 games. Such as a little game called Super Ghouls and Ghosts. Probably one of the most difficult 16-bit games I ever invested time into. Never made it to the third level. Well, maybe once. But the game only had about 10 levels. That's it. No side missions. No online multiplayer. Didn't have to collect all the secret beans to get the ultimate sword. Yet, somehow, it provided hours of entertainment (and frustration). AND TETRIS! Incredibly simple concept. I put so much time into that game on the old big gray brick Gameboy (Pokemon and Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening also stole many hours of my life). SNES and Genesis were so simple. They had like 8 buttons, yet there was so much strategy and timing involved.
I do believe that we should give a nod to Wii for at least making the attempt to retrieve all that once was. Thank you for making playing cartridge games on a next gen game console possible.
Ah. And multiplayer used to be more intimate. There was a time when the person you were against would be sitting in the same room, no more than three feet from you. Now they can be hundreds of thousands of miles away. The internet has made a lot possible. You can play almost any game with anyone around the world. Only thing is, you can't slap the controller out of their hand as you're playing Mario Kart. Ah, childhood.
Okay, enough reminiscing. I feel like an old man. And I'm not.
You hang around a little longer Super Nintendo. The day you finally die will be the day I release you from servitude. Or more acurately, our friendship. We've had a good 16 years. I hope we can have 16 more.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
And Who's That, Dead In A Corner?
The first post for May and we're more than half way through it. Okay, I keep lying to what devoted readers are left, promising that I will devote more time to the blog. No, it's a lie and a sham. Similar to my own life. I have nothing to write about. Creativity has been dead in a corner for the last two months, chained to a wall, with a horrific expression now solidified forever on his face thanks to rigor mortis. Flies buzz about his head as his shrivled corpse sits in his excrement. A sad sight.
And that's the truth. Whatever funny, witty things you want to come from me won't anymore. That's it. I just want to watch Deadliest Warrior until my eyes go from a nice moist, squishy ball form to a dried out, pruney, shrunken, depressed and defeated shapeless form. Not unlike my own soul.
No. That's not (entirely) true.
Look, if you come here a lot expecting something, then don't. I'll update when I want. I have a dead creativity in the corner. Show some respect.
In other news, although I said that humanity has really outdone itself with the cornbread crackers, it also showed me that we probably reached the end of the vine with our creative fruits (end of the line...end of the vine...get it? Nevermind. Forget it. There's no pleasing you.) I spent some time with my eyes focused on the TV a couple days ago. I don't remember what I was watching, something of absolutely no consequence, but during the commercials there was a preview. For a little summer film. For the kids of course, but that doesn't excuse anybody. See, this film was called, "Marmaduke". Now, you may remember the comic strip that is still, to my knowledge, syndicated in the paper. It featured a giant great Dane the size of a pony. The dog was way too big for it's own good, thus, antics ensue. Despite the emense animal featured as the central character, the comic was very small and typically only took one panel, almost in the same likeness as Family Circus. Except, Family Circus won't ever be turned into a full length feature film. Am I right Hollywood?
"We can't make any promises. We have a knack for taking all of your childhood dreams and destroying them on the silver screen in order to make a buck."
That's right. Well please don't make Family Circus into a movie, otherwise I may consider moving to India. If there's one thing I hate, it's Family Circus the strip. If there's another thing I hate, it's the idea I formulated in my head of the possibility of a full length Family Circus film. And one day, the third thing I'll hate is the fact that they really went through with it and made Family Circus into a full length feature film. Hopefully thereafter, the 2012 apocalypse will occur.
Anyway, I'm watching this preview. The movie is based somewhat on the strip, I guess. There's probably only so much story in the strip. Not enough to go on for an hour and a half. Unless you want an hour and a half of one liners. So they make this half real, half CGI talking dog voiced by Owen Wilson. There's kids. He goes to the park. He walks the little girl. He surfs. Just like any other great Dane. Oh, and George Lopez voices the cat. For good measure. Because George Lopez has been in many of cinema's great artistic achievements, such as "Beverly Hills Chihuahua" and "Valentine's Day".
So, given, after the preview my eyes bled, and I had horrible flashbacks of when I first saw the "Larry The Cable Guy Movie" preview.
Larry might be worse. Kids want to see talking dogs. Kids don't know better. As kids, we really didn't understand just how bad Batman and Robin featuring Arnold as Mr. Freeze was. So fine, kids can go see that movie, laugh at George Lopez, and hopefully reach the same truth as we did many years later.
Larry the Cable Guy is inexcusable. Kids don't really go see that. Adults do. They pay nine dollars for "Get 'r Done!"
Excuse me, while I now weep for humanity.
More to come. Stay tuned.
And that's the truth. Whatever funny, witty things you want to come from me won't anymore. That's it. I just want to watch Deadliest Warrior until my eyes go from a nice moist, squishy ball form to a dried out, pruney, shrunken, depressed and defeated shapeless form. Not unlike my own soul.
No. That's not (entirely) true.
Look, if you come here a lot expecting something, then don't. I'll update when I want. I have a dead creativity in the corner. Show some respect.
In other news, although I said that humanity has really outdone itself with the cornbread crackers, it also showed me that we probably reached the end of the vine with our creative fruits (end of the line...end of the vine...get it? Nevermind. Forget it. There's no pleasing you.) I spent some time with my eyes focused on the TV a couple days ago. I don't remember what I was watching, something of absolutely no consequence, but during the commercials there was a preview. For a little summer film. For the kids of course, but that doesn't excuse anybody. See, this film was called, "Marmaduke". Now, you may remember the comic strip that is still, to my knowledge, syndicated in the paper. It featured a giant great Dane the size of a pony. The dog was way too big for it's own good, thus, antics ensue. Despite the emense animal featured as the central character, the comic was very small and typically only took one panel, almost in the same likeness as Family Circus. Except, Family Circus won't ever be turned into a full length feature film. Am I right Hollywood?
"We can't make any promises. We have a knack for taking all of your childhood dreams and destroying them on the silver screen in order to make a buck."
That's right. Well please don't make Family Circus into a movie, otherwise I may consider moving to India. If there's one thing I hate, it's Family Circus the strip. If there's another thing I hate, it's the idea I formulated in my head of the possibility of a full length Family Circus film. And one day, the third thing I'll hate is the fact that they really went through with it and made Family Circus into a full length feature film. Hopefully thereafter, the 2012 apocalypse will occur.
Anyway, I'm watching this preview. The movie is based somewhat on the strip, I guess. There's probably only so much story in the strip. Not enough to go on for an hour and a half. Unless you want an hour and a half of one liners. So they make this half real, half CGI talking dog voiced by Owen Wilson. There's kids. He goes to the park. He walks the little girl. He surfs. Just like any other great Dane. Oh, and George Lopez voices the cat. For good measure. Because George Lopez has been in many of cinema's great artistic achievements, such as "Beverly Hills Chihuahua" and "Valentine's Day".
So, given, after the preview my eyes bled, and I had horrible flashbacks of when I first saw the "Larry The Cable Guy Movie" preview.
Larry might be worse. Kids want to see talking dogs. Kids don't know better. As kids, we really didn't understand just how bad Batman and Robin featuring Arnold as Mr. Freeze was. So fine, kids can go see that movie, laugh at George Lopez, and hopefully reach the same truth as we did many years later.
Larry the Cable Guy is inexcusable. Kids don't really go see that. Adults do. They pay nine dollars for "Get 'r Done!"
Excuse me, while I now weep for humanity.
More to come. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Orphans, Cornbread Crackers, Odd Jobs, Coffee Pee...And Well, That's About It.
It has recently been brought to my attention that it's been nearly a month since the blog has been updated. My sincerest apologies. This blog tends to slip my mind, or at least lies in the dusty back part of my brain. It's pretty much the orphan child no one wanted. But I will love it again and hopefully nourish it back to health because, let's be honest, the blog has become rather lame.
Well, I realized a few days ago that the human race has officially invented everything. Late one night last week, I went into the cabinet to pick out a flavor of tea to brew. The cabinet is located in the lower part of the island in the kitchen and inside there is a shelf that rolls out (this is where the tea is located, along with the pasta and popcorn). Just below this shelf is where my parents store their chips, crackers and various cooking oils (oh, and some maple syrup). So before I pull out the shelf I noticed a box of crackers labeled, "Cornbread Crackers". Curious, I open the box, take out a cracker, and eat it. As I'm chewing I'm thinking, "Holy crap...they did it. Those madmen finally did it. This little cracker actually tastes like cornbread." I was in shock. Now, I'm not a cornbread fanatic, but to put the authentic taste of cornbread into a thin little cracker is quite the achievement. Humanity, I salute you. As well as Archer Farms. The men and women who make up your business should also do something about cancer. If you can put the sweet, buttery taste of cornbread into crackers, surely you can find a cure to a devastating disease.
Also, I made it back to St. Louis Missouri. Although somewhat disappointed I didn't decide to stay in Idaho Falls just a bit longer, it does feel kind of good to be back home. For one, the weather is above 55 degrees, which is fantastic if you're ready for summer to be here (and I am). I was rather terrified when I came back because when I had left everything was still budding, and then a week later when I returned everything was green and flowering. Made me feel like I was gone a lot longer than I actually was...
Still looking for a job, but I've had opportunities doing odd jobs, such as last week when I helped Kurt Selzle (a realtor from church) clean up a house he is planning to sell. Lots of cleaning grime coated windows. Cleaning dust from the basement. Scrubbing floors on hands and feet. But Kurt was kind enough to pay me $10 an hour. So from 12-10:30pm I worked with him. Earned $105 and since spent some of that money for books on Amazon. Everytime there's a little cash, it goes to books. I have a problem, and I would like to talk about it.
I still drink a lot of coffee. Three cups a day, except today, I had a pot of green tea. Other than that, coffee every day. I don't know how to stop it. I think there was even a day when my pee smelled like coffee. You know you have a problem then, even if it doesn't actually smell like coffee. Either you drink sooo much your pee ACTUALLY smells like coffee, or you've gone completely mad and believe that, yes, even your wee wee smells like coffee. I'd almost prefer the former...
I started to ride my bike a lot more. The weather has been great too. Not too hot to where I can not breathe, and not too cold. And the sun has decided to shine nearly everyday. Thanks sun. I appreciate it.
I should probably carry a notebook around to list ideas so I don't forget them before I get to the blog. That's why you've been reading boring, ridiculous stuff the past ten minutes. I had a lot of great things to talk about. LOTS of great things. Believe me. But I procrastinated, and have since forgotten any and all of what I wanted to say. I apologize. The next blog will be a doozy.
DON'T ABANDON THE BLOG YET!!
Well, I realized a few days ago that the human race has officially invented everything. Late one night last week, I went into the cabinet to pick out a flavor of tea to brew. The cabinet is located in the lower part of the island in the kitchen and inside there is a shelf that rolls out (this is where the tea is located, along with the pasta and popcorn). Just below this shelf is where my parents store their chips, crackers and various cooking oils (oh, and some maple syrup). So before I pull out the shelf I noticed a box of crackers labeled, "Cornbread Crackers". Curious, I open the box, take out a cracker, and eat it. As I'm chewing I'm thinking, "Holy crap...they did it. Those madmen finally did it. This little cracker actually tastes like cornbread." I was in shock. Now, I'm not a cornbread fanatic, but to put the authentic taste of cornbread into a thin little cracker is quite the achievement. Humanity, I salute you. As well as Archer Farms. The men and women who make up your business should also do something about cancer. If you can put the sweet, buttery taste of cornbread into crackers, surely you can find a cure to a devastating disease.
Also, I made it back to St. Louis Missouri. Although somewhat disappointed I didn't decide to stay in Idaho Falls just a bit longer, it does feel kind of good to be back home. For one, the weather is above 55 degrees, which is fantastic if you're ready for summer to be here (and I am). I was rather terrified when I came back because when I had left everything was still budding, and then a week later when I returned everything was green and flowering. Made me feel like I was gone a lot longer than I actually was...
Still looking for a job, but I've had opportunities doing odd jobs, such as last week when I helped Kurt Selzle (a realtor from church) clean up a house he is planning to sell. Lots of cleaning grime coated windows. Cleaning dust from the basement. Scrubbing floors on hands and feet. But Kurt was kind enough to pay me $10 an hour. So from 12-10:30pm I worked with him. Earned $105 and since spent some of that money for books on Amazon. Everytime there's a little cash, it goes to books. I have a problem, and I would like to talk about it.
I still drink a lot of coffee. Three cups a day, except today, I had a pot of green tea. Other than that, coffee every day. I don't know how to stop it. I think there was even a day when my pee smelled like coffee. You know you have a problem then, even if it doesn't actually smell like coffee. Either you drink sooo much your pee ACTUALLY smells like coffee, or you've gone completely mad and believe that, yes, even your wee wee smells like coffee. I'd almost prefer the former...
I started to ride my bike a lot more. The weather has been great too. Not too hot to where I can not breathe, and not too cold. And the sun has decided to shine nearly everyday. Thanks sun. I appreciate it.
I should probably carry a notebook around to list ideas so I don't forget them before I get to the blog. That's why you've been reading boring, ridiculous stuff the past ten minutes. I had a lot of great things to talk about. LOTS of great things. Believe me. But I procrastinated, and have since forgotten any and all of what I wanted to say. I apologize. The next blog will be a doozy.
DON'T ABANDON THE BLOG YET!!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
New Things. Not So New Things. Heck, Let's Be Honest Here, Nothing's Really Changed.
Just spent roughly three hours looking for jobs in St. Louis filling out applications with tedious questionaires. Somebody should get back to me about SOMETHING...
Also the house phone rang about 7 times today. None of which were jobs which I've applied for the last few days. I let all of them go to the answering machine. These roofers and solicitors need to stop calling. I don't enjoy false hope, which is immediately burned alive (screaming) when they leave a useless (to me) message. Or just hang up once the robotic answering machine voice finishes it's speech.
Ugh.
In other news, I've added a new goal to the already long list of life goals I have for myself: I plan to marry a girl who is not native born to America. Sorry American women. I'm sure there are some nice Italian men out there. But those foreign women are going to have to wait. I've got some stuff to get out of the way (live outside of the country, tame bears, build log cabins, write four famous novels, compose the greatest rock album, start and lead churches...to name a few).
Other than that, nothing has really changed. I still live, breathe. I continue to read. Coffee is still a drug of choice, but I have yet to abandon tea.
Spring is here. That's for sure. I love summer, so seeing that nature is finally getting it together makes me feel not so dreary. Life isn't quite as bleak right now, and maybe there is hope for the future. Sun has been hanging out a lot too. His mother now allows him to stay outside and play after six o' clock. Happy times are ahead.
Also, in two weeks I will be traveling towards the west. My mother and I plan to visit her side of the family for a week at the start of April. I'm in rapture. I need to leave St. Louis, if only for a bit. Plus, I love Idaho. I may even plan to stay there and tell my mom to sell the return ticket. I'll let you know whatever happens. Maybe I'll update while I'm there. The mountains may give me a new breath of creativity.
Sorry if that was boring. Its just been so long since I last wrote on this thing.
Anyway, more to come.
Also the house phone rang about 7 times today. None of which were jobs which I've applied for the last few days. I let all of them go to the answering machine. These roofers and solicitors need to stop calling. I don't enjoy false hope, which is immediately burned alive (screaming) when they leave a useless (to me) message. Or just hang up once the robotic answering machine voice finishes it's speech.
Ugh.
In other news, I've added a new goal to the already long list of life goals I have for myself: I plan to marry a girl who is not native born to America. Sorry American women. I'm sure there are some nice Italian men out there. But those foreign women are going to have to wait. I've got some stuff to get out of the way (live outside of the country, tame bears, build log cabins, write four famous novels, compose the greatest rock album, start and lead churches...to name a few).
Other than that, nothing has really changed. I still live, breathe. I continue to read. Coffee is still a drug of choice, but I have yet to abandon tea.
Spring is here. That's for sure. I love summer, so seeing that nature is finally getting it together makes me feel not so dreary. Life isn't quite as bleak right now, and maybe there is hope for the future. Sun has been hanging out a lot too. His mother now allows him to stay outside and play after six o' clock. Happy times are ahead.
Also, in two weeks I will be traveling towards the west. My mother and I plan to visit her side of the family for a week at the start of April. I'm in rapture. I need to leave St. Louis, if only for a bit. Plus, I love Idaho. I may even plan to stay there and tell my mom to sell the return ticket. I'll let you know whatever happens. Maybe I'll update while I'm there. The mountains may give me a new breath of creativity.
Sorry if that was boring. Its just been so long since I last wrote on this thing.
Anyway, more to come.
Monday, March 1, 2010
"Are You Not Much More Valuable Than They? Who Of You By Worrying Can Add A Single Hour To His Life?"
"'Dare not choose in your minds the work you would like to do when you leave the Home of Students. You shall do that which the Council of Vocations shall prescribe for you. For the Council of Vocations knows in its great wisdom where you are needed by your brother men, better than you can know it in your unworthy little minds. And if you are not needed by your brother men, there is no reason for you to burden the earth with your bodies.'"
"...for a finger of the hand of the oldest rose, pointed to us, and fell down again. This was the only thing which moved, for the lips of the oldest did not move as they said: 'Street Sweeper'" - Both quotes taken from Ayn Rand's Anthem
Sometime ago (I make it sound like 15 years ago. It was actually more like 2 or 3 years ago.) I played out a scenario in my head. This scenario consisted of me walking through a park with a paved path and trees all about. I visioned myself alone, and this park was basically Arnold City Park (If any of you know what that is, it may help to envision the scenario, but I believe only Dave really knows what I'm talking about because him and I spent many hours fighting the dead and rotting trees in that park. Yes, we have big imaginations and a lot of time on our hands. Which is basically the definition, in my finite world, of a child). So, I'm walking for a while, and suddenly a man walks out from the trees. He walks towards me as if he has something to say to me. Something important. Something life changing. I know this, so I wait and allow him, without any sort of fear or apprehension, to approach me. He is in a robe and has long nappy hair with a scraggly beard. Not to be confused with Jesus in any way. I see him as more of a guru, or a boddhisatva. He finally reaches me, puts both hands on my shoulders, looks me dead in the eye and says, "You're supposed to be an accountant". Immediately after saying this, he turns around and starts walking back into the woods, never to be seen again.
This isn't the only way this scenario plays out in my head. Sometimes he tells me more such as, "You're supposed to marry Sarah Tomlin. You meet together in spring. She's wearing a pretty, white dress. She has brown wavy hair. You two date for a year and half, get engaged, marry in the fall, and move to Colorado. You have two kids. You name them Gabrielle and Monica"...and so on.
Yet, of course, a wise man isn't going to approach me and explain my path. This is completely irrational. And somewhat creepy. I don't think I would be very calm if a man of this description, or any description for that matter, came up to me from out of the woods and put his hands on my shoulders. In real life, this guy just might move his hands to my throat and kill me because he's actually escaped from a mental ward, but all that is far beside the point.
The actual point in all of this is that, I know my whole life is an adventure. Whoo hoo. Yip Yip. I play it out, in real time, and see fate and the future unfold. It's supposed to be exciting. But, unfortunately, I have no foresight. I'm a blind man stumbling in a dark antique store. And I'm obliterating all the fine china. And the vintage action figures.
I hate not knowing what I'm doing right now. I don't know how I'm supposed to figure it out. I don't know what is going to make me happy. Instead, I'm running into these crappy jobs, and the job market and society in general and my own stupid idiotic choices that have brought me to this point make me want to pull my hair out. Or shave my head. Wait...I already did that. Apparently madness isn't too far off...
So, I don't really like to be told what to do, but right now, in this very moment, I wouldn't mind an old man pointing a boney, crooked finger at me and saying, "Street Sweeper" or "Hot Dog Vendor" or "Yoga Instructor". Really, just tell me what I'm supposed to be doing. Who am I, what is my purpose if I have one, and just give me, if nothing else, a glimpse of the potential future, an idea of where I'm headed if anywhere.
I promise though, the next post will not pertain to jobs or my quarter life crisis. I'll get something really riveting and relateable.
Until then...
"...for a finger of the hand of the oldest rose, pointed to us, and fell down again. This was the only thing which moved, for the lips of the oldest did not move as they said: 'Street Sweeper'" - Both quotes taken from Ayn Rand's Anthem
Sometime ago (I make it sound like 15 years ago. It was actually more like 2 or 3 years ago.) I played out a scenario in my head. This scenario consisted of me walking through a park with a paved path and trees all about. I visioned myself alone, and this park was basically Arnold City Park (If any of you know what that is, it may help to envision the scenario, but I believe only Dave really knows what I'm talking about because him and I spent many hours fighting the dead and rotting trees in that park. Yes, we have big imaginations and a lot of time on our hands. Which is basically the definition, in my finite world, of a child). So, I'm walking for a while, and suddenly a man walks out from the trees. He walks towards me as if he has something to say to me. Something important. Something life changing. I know this, so I wait and allow him, without any sort of fear or apprehension, to approach me. He is in a robe and has long nappy hair with a scraggly beard. Not to be confused with Jesus in any way. I see him as more of a guru, or a boddhisatva. He finally reaches me, puts both hands on my shoulders, looks me dead in the eye and says, "You're supposed to be an accountant". Immediately after saying this, he turns around and starts walking back into the woods, never to be seen again.
This isn't the only way this scenario plays out in my head. Sometimes he tells me more such as, "You're supposed to marry Sarah Tomlin. You meet together in spring. She's wearing a pretty, white dress. She has brown wavy hair. You two date for a year and half, get engaged, marry in the fall, and move to Colorado. You have two kids. You name them Gabrielle and Monica"...and so on.
Yet, of course, a wise man isn't going to approach me and explain my path. This is completely irrational. And somewhat creepy. I don't think I would be very calm if a man of this description, or any description for that matter, came up to me from out of the woods and put his hands on my shoulders. In real life, this guy just might move his hands to my throat and kill me because he's actually escaped from a mental ward, but all that is far beside the point.
The actual point in all of this is that, I know my whole life is an adventure. Whoo hoo. Yip Yip. I play it out, in real time, and see fate and the future unfold. It's supposed to be exciting. But, unfortunately, I have no foresight. I'm a blind man stumbling in a dark antique store. And I'm obliterating all the fine china. And the vintage action figures.
I hate not knowing what I'm doing right now. I don't know how I'm supposed to figure it out. I don't know what is going to make me happy. Instead, I'm running into these crappy jobs, and the job market and society in general and my own stupid idiotic choices that have brought me to this point make me want to pull my hair out. Or shave my head. Wait...I already did that. Apparently madness isn't too far off...
So, I don't really like to be told what to do, but right now, in this very moment, I wouldn't mind an old man pointing a boney, crooked finger at me and saying, "Street Sweeper" or "Hot Dog Vendor" or "Yoga Instructor". Really, just tell me what I'm supposed to be doing. Who am I, what is my purpose if I have one, and just give me, if nothing else, a glimpse of the potential future, an idea of where I'm headed if anywhere.
I promise though, the next post will not pertain to jobs or my quarter life crisis. I'll get something really riveting and relateable.
Until then...
Friday, February 19, 2010
Things I've Learned In Life So Far: Never Apply, Interview, and Accept an Entry Level Sales Job.
It's been over a week since the Living Blog was updated. I apologize for not remaining committed to writing on this. I do have an excuse, and it's, "Things have been kind of crazy the past week."
You can probably gather from the title what we're talking about today, boys and girls. Afterall, that's what titles are for, to give you somewhat of an idea of what this massacre of phonetic symbols is going to communicate.
All right. Where do I begin...
Monday, February 15th, 2010. A normal day if I do say so myself. At first. Two days prior I spent a few hours on my laptop at the Bread Co. on Olive browsing Career Builder. I found a lot of listings for entry level marketing jobs (Entry level sounded good. A guy fresh out of college likes the sound of that, mostly because a fellow like myself has found a lot of jobs asking for 3 or 5+ years field experience, which at this point in my life, I just don't have. There's a lot of jobs I just don't have the qualifications for...except for these entry level jobs which exclaim, "No Experience Necessary!"). Of course, I'm easily enticed. I figure there could be a fair chance of landing one of these jobs. I apply for a couple, find a writing job in Clayton which I also apply for (I never heard from them though. They're legit I'm sure, since they didn't come begging to me for an interview. They probably found a very qualified individual very quickly and went on their merry way). I sit back, take a sip of coffee, and hope for the best.
So we get to Monday. I get two calls from two of the places saying they want to set up interviews the next day. Giddy with excitement, I agree, schedule the interviews, and then run out to get some nice clothes. My father slips a few twenties into my hand, and I rush out to find something nice. I get a nice blue shirt, a nice sports jacket, a couple ties, some nice shoes, and come back home to prepare to tackle the world.
Tuesday comes and goes. I go to both interviews, get an idea of the jobs, asked by both to come back for a second interview (which was pretty much in spending a couple hours in the field, seeing what they do).
So I'm excited, completely unaware of the lies and deciet. I rest easily.
I go to the first job. They are a company in the auto glass repair market. Now, red flag number one: I come in, sit down, wait, and see some of these entry level guys preparing for a road trip to a location in Arkansas. One guy has a couple grocery bags with loaves of bread and snacks. I'm fine with it. We all need some snacks when we go on long drives. We're freaking Americans, we need to eat all the freaking time. So the manager (the man who interviewed me) says, "Well, when I go on trips I usually eat out." Poor kid, brainwashed and pulled into this mess says, "Yeah, I've had a lot of bills this week so I only have eight bucks in my wallet." Are we serious? This is the major bank going on here? This guy works his butt off here, and has barely enough to scrape by?
All right, so I go out with two girls and this guy Tim. Now, here's what they do on a day to day basis: They go to these "events" at car washes and and gas stations. They have permission to be there, but what they do is they try to "fit in" like this is some covert operation and clean customer's windows. As they do, they look for chips and small cracks in the windshield. When they find one, they mention it to the customer, tell them if they have full coverage the service is free, and then fill in the chip/small crack right there on the spot.
As you can imagine, all though it's not completely terrible, it still felt...if I could invent a term..."scammy". I will say the employees were nice about it, and didn't try to press anything onto these people (or at least trick them, or hold them down until they agreed to have their windshield fixed), but I still thought this whole thing was a sham. Sure, there was this faint promise in the future to reach managment level, but the goals were unrealistic. Plus, I didn't want to spend eight hours of my day in the freezing cold. As you can probably already gather, I didn't properly express my passion for the job, so Tim called Nick (the manager. Funny Story actually, the managers of both places I interviewed for are named Nick) at the end of the "second interview" and then gave the phone to me. Talked to Nick, and he told me they would call. Haven't heard back since Wednesday. Thank God.
Trabajo Numero Dos. This job was VERY similar to the other one. Later on Wednesday I met with a guy named Maxwell Harrison to do pretty much what I had done only a few hours before and that was shadow his lousy sales job. I did for a couple hours. It wasn't too bad. At least it was a little better gig than the windshield repair. I was warm and inside and things seemed like they would be okay.
Job description: Basically, this company has people go to Home Depots around the area, walk around with a binder, and sell people free in-home consultations.
"Sell them something free? How does that work Michael? Do tell."
Well, basically I walk up, tell them who I am, ask them how old their home is, and if they had done anything with the kitchen cabinets. If they were new, I would be on my way. If they were old and crappy and they wanted to change the look of them, I would tell them about the resurfacing project and have them sign up to have an appointment. At the appointment, people from Home Depot would come out, talk about ideas with the potential customer, give a quote, and the customer would decide if they want to to do it or not.
Of course, with anything you try to sell, there is a big "No Factor". Now, they told me about "The Law of Averages". Basically, for every no you get, there's bound to be a yes coming. This of course is a lie and a sham.
Anyway, I want to get into more detail about that later. I'm getting ahead of myself.
So, I meet with Maxwell. Walk around with him. Talk with him. I start lying to myself and saying, "I could do this. Maybe this will be okay." The time with Max goes well, he calls Nick, talks to him, then tells me to leave the Home Depot where we're at (On South Lindbergh) and go to where Nick is at, the Home Depot on Manchester. I visit Nick, we talk a little more. He gives me the job, I agree (I shouldn't have) and leave.
Now. Thursday, February 18th, 2010. First day on the job. I get to the "office" (I put it in quotes because, although the top level of this building is an office and thats the HQ for this company, there's multiple companies/businesses that use the office [I believe] and the office for Systematic Services, as far as I could tell, was just Nick's little office way in the back of the catacombs. Oh, and there was a break room, but I'm still pretty sure that was communal). I fill out paper work, listen to a little lesson on the "Five Steps" (What they use to talk to people and pitch their sale) and then we were on our way.
I was assigned to be with Maxwell again to be trained. The office is in Chesterfield and we were told to go back to the South Lindbergh Home Depot (roughly about 35 mins with light traffic). Max doesn't have a car. Great. So I drive both of us. I talk to Max on the way about a number of things. There is mostly business talk, but we also discuss other things. I find out Nick (the manager guy) Joey (an employee) and Max are all living in Nick's aunt's house. Now, they haven't been in town all that long, but long enough they should be able to find a place and...oh, I don't know....pay for it with the "good" money they're making (also, the previous day Maxwell slammed 9-5 jobs because no matter how much work you put in, you only make what's on the paycheck, and then when you retire you don't have money. What he fails to realize is he's not really making money now and that there is SO much work put into this that whatever money you make it will never be worth it [By the way, the job was 6 days a week. And to give you an idea of the hours, I went in at 10:30, went through a normal day, came back to the office, left around 7. Today they wanted me to come in at 9. No way.])
Sorry, tangents.
So we get to Home Depot. Sign in. I watch him, then I start to get my feet wet and try it myself. In the end, I walked around Home Depot 700 times for 6 hours. We took a couple five minute breaks. The first one was mostly so I could practice the pitch with Maxwell. The other one was a legitimate sit down, relax, realize how much this sucks break. No lunch. Just straight sales. They even said before we left that there's an hour for lunch, but they don't take it because that just eats into sale time (haha...lunch...eats in....man, where do I come up with this stuff?).
What kind of hell condones sacrificing an important meal time just to hound more people?
Sorry. Tangent again.
So we do this forever. Max gets 2 leads. I get none. He says that's typical for the first day. And I think I want to pull a gardening hoe down and chop someone up with it to release some tension. Just a little.
Now, he calls this a slow day. The day before when I was with him, he got a lead before I came. With that said, earlier on Thursday when I came in they had a total of 31 leads. So lets do some math here. Without me, there is 5 people. So with 31 leads, that gives each about 6. Of course this is with the assumption that they all make about the same, which there is error in that, but with what I'm showing, there is wiggle room. So, it's Thursday and they've had about 3 days. So if we continue with MY mathmatic reasoning, that makes for 2 leads per day. Now, if you'll recall, for Max at least, 2 leads is a slow day. Bull. It's average, and they're trying to con me into this trap.
At 6 o' clock, with my belly aching for food, we leave the store and go back to the office. I deal with the mess of traffic on 64. I consider smashing the car and killing us both, but I'm not quite over the edge. Actually, once we left Home Depot, I believe I felt better. But I had to spend and eternity in there first. We make it back to the office, they tell me to come in at 9 in the morning and I bid them goodnight.
As you can tell, I called today and quit the job. I have more dignity. I want a salary and benifits. And freaking lunch! Even if I do talk to a bunch of people into this free service, they still have to make the decision to reface the cabinets. That's where I would make money. What little I would make.
It's a sham, a lie, a trick, and I've learned a valuable lesson from all of this: Never apply to entry level sales/marketing jobs, especially when they have multiple postings on Career Builder and have the posting in big, capital letters. They're cheating you out of time and sanity and will only feed you propaganda like, "Law of Averages" and "Postive Attitude" and "Strong Work Ethic".
Thanks guys. But I'll take my 9-5 job any day. You can take this job and...well, you know the rest.
You can probably gather from the title what we're talking about today, boys and girls. Afterall, that's what titles are for, to give you somewhat of an idea of what this massacre of phonetic symbols is going to communicate.
All right. Where do I begin...
Monday, February 15th, 2010. A normal day if I do say so myself. At first. Two days prior I spent a few hours on my laptop at the Bread Co. on Olive browsing Career Builder. I found a lot of listings for entry level marketing jobs (Entry level sounded good. A guy fresh out of college likes the sound of that, mostly because a fellow like myself has found a lot of jobs asking for 3 or 5+ years field experience, which at this point in my life, I just don't have. There's a lot of jobs I just don't have the qualifications for...except for these entry level jobs which exclaim, "No Experience Necessary!"). Of course, I'm easily enticed. I figure there could be a fair chance of landing one of these jobs. I apply for a couple, find a writing job in Clayton which I also apply for (I never heard from them though. They're legit I'm sure, since they didn't come begging to me for an interview. They probably found a very qualified individual very quickly and went on their merry way). I sit back, take a sip of coffee, and hope for the best.
So we get to Monday. I get two calls from two of the places saying they want to set up interviews the next day. Giddy with excitement, I agree, schedule the interviews, and then run out to get some nice clothes. My father slips a few twenties into my hand, and I rush out to find something nice. I get a nice blue shirt, a nice sports jacket, a couple ties, some nice shoes, and come back home to prepare to tackle the world.
Tuesday comes and goes. I go to both interviews, get an idea of the jobs, asked by both to come back for a second interview (which was pretty much in spending a couple hours in the field, seeing what they do).
So I'm excited, completely unaware of the lies and deciet. I rest easily.
I go to the first job. They are a company in the auto glass repair market. Now, red flag number one: I come in, sit down, wait, and see some of these entry level guys preparing for a road trip to a location in Arkansas. One guy has a couple grocery bags with loaves of bread and snacks. I'm fine with it. We all need some snacks when we go on long drives. We're freaking Americans, we need to eat all the freaking time. So the manager (the man who interviewed me) says, "Well, when I go on trips I usually eat out." Poor kid, brainwashed and pulled into this mess says, "Yeah, I've had a lot of bills this week so I only have eight bucks in my wallet." Are we serious? This is the major bank going on here? This guy works his butt off here, and has barely enough to scrape by?
All right, so I go out with two girls and this guy Tim. Now, here's what they do on a day to day basis: They go to these "events" at car washes and and gas stations. They have permission to be there, but what they do is they try to "fit in" like this is some covert operation and clean customer's windows. As they do, they look for chips and small cracks in the windshield. When they find one, they mention it to the customer, tell them if they have full coverage the service is free, and then fill in the chip/small crack right there on the spot.
As you can imagine, all though it's not completely terrible, it still felt...if I could invent a term..."scammy". I will say the employees were nice about it, and didn't try to press anything onto these people (or at least trick them, or hold them down until they agreed to have their windshield fixed), but I still thought this whole thing was a sham. Sure, there was this faint promise in the future to reach managment level, but the goals were unrealistic. Plus, I didn't want to spend eight hours of my day in the freezing cold. As you can probably already gather, I didn't properly express my passion for the job, so Tim called Nick (the manager. Funny Story actually, the managers of both places I interviewed for are named Nick) at the end of the "second interview" and then gave the phone to me. Talked to Nick, and he told me they would call. Haven't heard back since Wednesday. Thank God.
Trabajo Numero Dos. This job was VERY similar to the other one. Later on Wednesday I met with a guy named Maxwell Harrison to do pretty much what I had done only a few hours before and that was shadow his lousy sales job. I did for a couple hours. It wasn't too bad. At least it was a little better gig than the windshield repair. I was warm and inside and things seemed like they would be okay.
Job description: Basically, this company has people go to Home Depots around the area, walk around with a binder, and sell people free in-home consultations.
"Sell them something free? How does that work Michael? Do tell."
Well, basically I walk up, tell them who I am, ask them how old their home is, and if they had done anything with the kitchen cabinets. If they were new, I would be on my way. If they were old and crappy and they wanted to change the look of them, I would tell them about the resurfacing project and have them sign up to have an appointment. At the appointment, people from Home Depot would come out, talk about ideas with the potential customer, give a quote, and the customer would decide if they want to to do it or not.
Of course, with anything you try to sell, there is a big "No Factor". Now, they told me about "The Law of Averages". Basically, for every no you get, there's bound to be a yes coming. This of course is a lie and a sham.
Anyway, I want to get into more detail about that later. I'm getting ahead of myself.
So, I meet with Maxwell. Walk around with him. Talk with him. I start lying to myself and saying, "I could do this. Maybe this will be okay." The time with Max goes well, he calls Nick, talks to him, then tells me to leave the Home Depot where we're at (On South Lindbergh) and go to where Nick is at, the Home Depot on Manchester. I visit Nick, we talk a little more. He gives me the job, I agree (I shouldn't have) and leave.
Now. Thursday, February 18th, 2010. First day on the job. I get to the "office" (I put it in quotes because, although the top level of this building is an office and thats the HQ for this company, there's multiple companies/businesses that use the office [I believe] and the office for Systematic Services, as far as I could tell, was just Nick's little office way in the back of the catacombs. Oh, and there was a break room, but I'm still pretty sure that was communal). I fill out paper work, listen to a little lesson on the "Five Steps" (What they use to talk to people and pitch their sale) and then we were on our way.
I was assigned to be with Maxwell again to be trained. The office is in Chesterfield and we were told to go back to the South Lindbergh Home Depot (roughly about 35 mins with light traffic). Max doesn't have a car. Great. So I drive both of us. I talk to Max on the way about a number of things. There is mostly business talk, but we also discuss other things. I find out Nick (the manager guy) Joey (an employee) and Max are all living in Nick's aunt's house. Now, they haven't been in town all that long, but long enough they should be able to find a place and...oh, I don't know....pay for it with the "good" money they're making (also, the previous day Maxwell slammed 9-5 jobs because no matter how much work you put in, you only make what's on the paycheck, and then when you retire you don't have money. What he fails to realize is he's not really making money now and that there is SO much work put into this that whatever money you make it will never be worth it [By the way, the job was 6 days a week. And to give you an idea of the hours, I went in at 10:30, went through a normal day, came back to the office, left around 7. Today they wanted me to come in at 9. No way.])
Sorry, tangents.
So we get to Home Depot. Sign in. I watch him, then I start to get my feet wet and try it myself. In the end, I walked around Home Depot 700 times for 6 hours. We took a couple five minute breaks. The first one was mostly so I could practice the pitch with Maxwell. The other one was a legitimate sit down, relax, realize how much this sucks break. No lunch. Just straight sales. They even said before we left that there's an hour for lunch, but they don't take it because that just eats into sale time (haha...lunch...eats in....man, where do I come up with this stuff?).
What kind of hell condones sacrificing an important meal time just to hound more people?
Sorry. Tangent again.
So we do this forever. Max gets 2 leads. I get none. He says that's typical for the first day. And I think I want to pull a gardening hoe down and chop someone up with it to release some tension. Just a little.
Now, he calls this a slow day. The day before when I was with him, he got a lead before I came. With that said, earlier on Thursday when I came in they had a total of 31 leads. So lets do some math here. Without me, there is 5 people. So with 31 leads, that gives each about 6. Of course this is with the assumption that they all make about the same, which there is error in that, but with what I'm showing, there is wiggle room. So, it's Thursday and they've had about 3 days. So if we continue with MY mathmatic reasoning, that makes for 2 leads per day. Now, if you'll recall, for Max at least, 2 leads is a slow day. Bull. It's average, and they're trying to con me into this trap.
At 6 o' clock, with my belly aching for food, we leave the store and go back to the office. I deal with the mess of traffic on 64. I consider smashing the car and killing us both, but I'm not quite over the edge. Actually, once we left Home Depot, I believe I felt better. But I had to spend and eternity in there first. We make it back to the office, they tell me to come in at 9 in the morning and I bid them goodnight.
As you can tell, I called today and quit the job. I have more dignity. I want a salary and benifits. And freaking lunch! Even if I do talk to a bunch of people into this free service, they still have to make the decision to reface the cabinets. That's where I would make money. What little I would make.
It's a sham, a lie, a trick, and I've learned a valuable lesson from all of this: Never apply to entry level sales/marketing jobs, especially when they have multiple postings on Career Builder and have the posting in big, capital letters. They're cheating you out of time and sanity and will only feed you propaganda like, "Law of Averages" and "Postive Attitude" and "Strong Work Ethic".
Thanks guys. But I'll take my 9-5 job any day. You can take this job and...well, you know the rest.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Procrastination Aid
Hey there.
I'm only making a new post because I hate to see the same post up all the time. Even I come here from time to time. And then I see that it's the same post from three days ago. And I get upset and I say, "Hey, why doesn't this Mike guy get his act together and put something new up? He exists solely for my entertainment!"
And then I quiet down and think, "Oh, right."
So here we are. With nothing to say. But, hey! The upside is, this is new. You haven't seen this before. I like to think of this as "Procrastination Aid". Mmm. Delicious.
So what are you procrastinating from right now? I know you are. You're killing what precious time you have as a living, breathing, thinking, functioning human being reading this instead of doing something meaningful. Or getting something done that you're supposed to have done by tomorrow. Or yesterday.
Let's make this interactive. That's what lazy people do, they tell the viewers to send in stuff and put together next weeks episode so the people who are paid to do that don't have to. They get to have the week off.
Yeah. It's a sham. But I'm in kind of shammy mood. So, do tell, what brings you to The Living Blog? What bit of life are you trying to escape from, or at least, postpone?
I'm only making a new post because I hate to see the same post up all the time. Even I come here from time to time. And then I see that it's the same post from three days ago. And I get upset and I say, "Hey, why doesn't this Mike guy get his act together and put something new up? He exists solely for my entertainment!"
And then I quiet down and think, "Oh, right."
So here we are. With nothing to say. But, hey! The upside is, this is new. You haven't seen this before. I like to think of this as "Procrastination Aid". Mmm. Delicious.
So what are you procrastinating from right now? I know you are. You're killing what precious time you have as a living, breathing, thinking, functioning human being reading this instead of doing something meaningful. Or getting something done that you're supposed to have done by tomorrow. Or yesterday.
Let's make this interactive. That's what lazy people do, they tell the viewers to send in stuff and put together next weeks episode so the people who are paid to do that don't have to. They get to have the week off.
Yeah. It's a sham. But I'm in kind of shammy mood. So, do tell, what brings you to The Living Blog? What bit of life are you trying to escape from, or at least, postpone?
Thursday, February 4, 2010
P Is For Poetry
Okay, so I graduated in English. And I assume you guys want to see the real stuff. The stuff I actually studied. Well, here's a rough, rough draft of some poetry that I just recently wrote. It'll more than likely see a few revisions in the future.
P
I hear it in both
pain and pleasure.
I keep repeating that playful sound
pounding out of my mouth
made by
that bump
that flag on a flag
pole waving
its hands and arms
with that patriotic dance.
That sound, that
push from the lips.
They, the lips, pucker
press together, voiceless
bilabial plosive
nothing but the sound of air
squeezing through squeezing
lips.
Listen to the sound, the pop
like bottle rockets escaping
from Earth's gravitational pull
and they never make it, they
just explode, sparkle, fizzle
against a purple back drop
then fade
into
ash.
That's the sound
the letter makes
when it finally
speaks.
P
I hear it in both
pain and pleasure.
I keep repeating that playful sound
pounding out of my mouth
made by
that bump
that flag on a flag
pole waving
its hands and arms
with that patriotic dance.
That sound, that
push from the lips.
They, the lips, pucker
press together, voiceless
bilabial plosive
nothing but the sound of air
squeezing through squeezing
lips.
Listen to the sound, the pop
like bottle rockets escaping
from Earth's gravitational pull
and they never make it, they
just explode, sparkle, fizzle
against a purple back drop
then fade
into
ash.
That's the sound
the letter makes
when it finally
speaks.
Full Circle: Dreams From My Childhood May Finally Become Reality. If I Don't Become Distracted First...
I think I figured it out. My calling in life. Where I should take my yet to be established writing career. Science Fiction.
Hack writing? No. There's plenty of Sci-fi writers who are respected not only in the science fiction world but also in the writing world in general. Such as:
Robert Heinlein
Philip K. Dick
Orson Scott Card
Ray Bradbury
L. Ron Hubbard
Isaac Asimov
And...for good measure,
Mr. Douglas Adams.
All of these guys have become well know and well respected. Their books turning into halfway decent to detestable film adaptations (Blade Runner: As timeless and great as the novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? from which the story was derived. Battlefield Earth on the other hand...stupid. Very stupid.)
I also believe there's a high market for Science Fiction, even if its mediocre. Nearly 33 years since the release of Star Wars: A New Hope and there's at least 200 different books, by different authors, taking place at every time and place that one could even imagine within the Star Wars universe. There's a Star Wars book with zombies called Death Troopers. I mean, I could totally go and write about ridiculous things like that. And then there's books based off Halo and Mass Effect. Video games are becoming common bases for literature. Or at least cheap Sci-Fi.
Plus, I've always wanted to write Sci-Fi. I had a big plan to when I was a kid. It lasted for a few months, but you know how kids are. They change their minds about what they want to be when they grow up all the time. One week they want the be a fire fighter. The next they want to be a Power Ranger. I wanted to write sci-fi novels when I was about 9 years old. It was right after I figured I wasn't force sensitive enough to be a real Jedi. Couldn't even levitate stuff. And the blade to my light saber was made of plastic instead of hot plasma, or whatever that stuff is made of. Its friggin' hot, I know that. So, when I realized this, I knew it was time for a career change. Suddenly, I liked writing. I wanted to be a writer (which the dumb idea would come back to destroy me only a decade later). I made up a super hero named Galactic Man. Had a trilogy going in my head with world domination and evil robots. It was a darn good story. At the time. But I loved Star Wars, so I loved anything science fiction. That was my plan when I hit the age I'm at now. I even had the hope that my critically acclaimed book series would become full length major motion pictures. I had high dreams. Then, in fourth grade, we had to write essays and stuff. A lot. So my writing career quickly deteriorated. I hated writing for class. At that point, I began to search for my next career path.
But now, after wanting to be a cartoonist, entreprenuer, bass player, animator, and famed poet and novelist, I think I'm going back to my first love: Writing sci-fi. I don't think I'm really going to go through with it, but we'll see. I bought Orson Scott Card's claim to fame, Ender's Game, to get myself back in the mood. We'll see what happens. Maybe I'll go into screen writing and write something better than that friggin' Avatar. I can write a movie with an underlying focus of all of America's atrocities from the last 200 years too (with the exception of slavery. Apparently they couldn't shoe horn that in. Or it was just much too far).
Anyway, I should start developing my I, Robot, or Stranger In A Strange Land, or Fahrenheit 451. I have a lot of work to do. If nothing else, by next week I'll decide to be a yoga instructor or tattoo artist. We'll see how things pan out.
Thanks for devoting your hard earned time to reading this. Always remember what you could have done instead of reading this. You're now closer to your death bed, and what do you have to show for it?
Tootles!
Hack writing? No. There's plenty of Sci-fi writers who are respected not only in the science fiction world but also in the writing world in general. Such as:
Robert Heinlein
Philip K. Dick
Orson Scott Card
Ray Bradbury
L. Ron Hubbard
Isaac Asimov
And...for good measure,
Mr. Douglas Adams.
All of these guys have become well know and well respected. Their books turning into halfway decent to detestable film adaptations (Blade Runner: As timeless and great as the novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? from which the story was derived. Battlefield Earth on the other hand...stupid. Very stupid.)
I also believe there's a high market for Science Fiction, even if its mediocre. Nearly 33 years since the release of Star Wars: A New Hope and there's at least 200 different books, by different authors, taking place at every time and place that one could even imagine within the Star Wars universe. There's a Star Wars book with zombies called Death Troopers. I mean, I could totally go and write about ridiculous things like that. And then there's books based off Halo and Mass Effect. Video games are becoming common bases for literature. Or at least cheap Sci-Fi.
Plus, I've always wanted to write Sci-Fi. I had a big plan to when I was a kid. It lasted for a few months, but you know how kids are. They change their minds about what they want to be when they grow up all the time. One week they want the be a fire fighter. The next they want to be a Power Ranger. I wanted to write sci-fi novels when I was about 9 years old. It was right after I figured I wasn't force sensitive enough to be a real Jedi. Couldn't even levitate stuff. And the blade to my light saber was made of plastic instead of hot plasma, or whatever that stuff is made of. Its friggin' hot, I know that. So, when I realized this, I knew it was time for a career change. Suddenly, I liked writing. I wanted to be a writer (which the dumb idea would come back to destroy me only a decade later). I made up a super hero named Galactic Man. Had a trilogy going in my head with world domination and evil robots. It was a darn good story. At the time. But I loved Star Wars, so I loved anything science fiction. That was my plan when I hit the age I'm at now. I even had the hope that my critically acclaimed book series would become full length major motion pictures. I had high dreams. Then, in fourth grade, we had to write essays and stuff. A lot. So my writing career quickly deteriorated. I hated writing for class. At that point, I began to search for my next career path.
But now, after wanting to be a cartoonist, entreprenuer, bass player, animator, and famed poet and novelist, I think I'm going back to my first love: Writing sci-fi. I don't think I'm really going to go through with it, but we'll see. I bought Orson Scott Card's claim to fame, Ender's Game, to get myself back in the mood. We'll see what happens. Maybe I'll go into screen writing and write something better than that friggin' Avatar. I can write a movie with an underlying focus of all of America's atrocities from the last 200 years too (with the exception of slavery. Apparently they couldn't shoe horn that in. Or it was just much too far).
Anyway, I should start developing my I, Robot, or Stranger In A Strange Land, or Fahrenheit 451. I have a lot of work to do. If nothing else, by next week I'll decide to be a yoga instructor or tattoo artist. We'll see how things pan out.
Thanks for devoting your hard earned time to reading this. Always remember what you could have done instead of reading this. You're now closer to your death bed, and what do you have to show for it?
Tootles!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
In A World Filled With Excitement And Danger
Yeah. My life. Filled with such mesmerizing tales like, "Today, I realized I like my coffee black."
No seriously. This is hot off the presses. Completely new information. Even I'm in utter surprise. I mean, for the last three years I've been addicted to tea. Green tea, white tea, black tea, red tea, blue tea (actually its commonly known as Oolong, but look it up. Seriously, it's considered blue tea. There's nothing blue about it, but that's what I read. In a book). But now the system of things is changing. I'm an adult now, so I like my coffee to be symbolic to my current outlook on my life: Dark and bitter.
...haha. I jest.
Sort of.
I had about 3 giant mug fulls of this Kenyan stuff today. I love it. Dark, steaming, burning every cell of my esophagus. Scarring my tongue. Staining my teeth and making my breath smell dingy. That's how it should of been all along. Instead, I've been dumping spoonfuls of sugar and cups of hazelnut or french vanilla cream into my coffee. What a world I have been unwilling to discover.
I'm addicted now. High on my new drug of choice, caffine. We've been friends for a while, but now we're changing things up. Taking out all the sweetness of our reltionship. No more Monster. No soda. Just that raw flavor. The natural taste of the motor oil colored brew.
I would continue, but the coffee has been processed by the kidneys and...well, you know the rest. Coffee and tea...they tend to go straight through.
More exciting news on the way. Keep reading and discussing my blogs at meals. Get the word out about my genius. If nothing else...it makes for good conversation.
No seriously. This is hot off the presses. Completely new information. Even I'm in utter surprise. I mean, for the last three years I've been addicted to tea. Green tea, white tea, black tea, red tea, blue tea (actually its commonly known as Oolong, but look it up. Seriously, it's considered blue tea. There's nothing blue about it, but that's what I read. In a book). But now the system of things is changing. I'm an adult now, so I like my coffee to be symbolic to my current outlook on my life: Dark and bitter.
...haha. I jest.
Sort of.
I had about 3 giant mug fulls of this Kenyan stuff today. I love it. Dark, steaming, burning every cell of my esophagus. Scarring my tongue. Staining my teeth and making my breath smell dingy. That's how it should of been all along. Instead, I've been dumping spoonfuls of sugar and cups of hazelnut or french vanilla cream into my coffee. What a world I have been unwilling to discover.
I'm addicted now. High on my new drug of choice, caffine. We've been friends for a while, but now we're changing things up. Taking out all the sweetness of our reltionship. No more Monster. No soda. Just that raw flavor. The natural taste of the motor oil colored brew.
I would continue, but the coffee has been processed by the kidneys and...well, you know the rest. Coffee and tea...they tend to go straight through.
More exciting news on the way. Keep reading and discussing my blogs at meals. Get the word out about my genius. If nothing else...it makes for good conversation.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
"This can't go on all the time -- all this franticness and jumping around. We've got to go some place, find something."
Jack Kerouac wrote a few great books, and in those books, he had a few really good lines. Last summer I went to a used book shop about fifteen minutes from where I live to see what treasures were nestled amongst the stained and tattered classics (Thank God for second hand bookstores, by the way). I stumbled upon a copy of Jack Kerouac's claim to fame, On the Road. The summer before was when I first discovered Kerouac. Back then I was more so emersed into my vagabond dreams, so finding Kerouac was like finding a lost love. I picked up Dharma Bums skimmed a few pages, and realized this Kerouac fellow and I were going to get along nicely. Anyway, I found a lightly used copy of On the Road with some bends in the corners and some ink outlining the O of On. Nothing much, still in rather fine condition, and I only had to spend $6 rather than the $15 it was originally priced when it was new (See why second hand bookstores are fantastic?) Anyway, I grabbed it with a certain glee because I loved Dharma Bums and this book, On the Road, is his Stairway to Heaven to his Led Zeppelin, or his Star Wars to his George Lucas. If that made any sense.
So I spend some of the summer reading it (I have my hand in some other books at the time as well...which has become a habit since I've been in this English Major gig. It used to be sacrilege to me to start another book while I was reading another. Now I just don't care.) As I read it, I still have that childish mentality that comes with almost anyone who reads Kerouac: I want to leave and go west to, live off the road, no home, loose friendships, and a destination as uncertain as the Second Coming of Christ. That seemed to be the life for me, and that's why I read ol' Jack.
I finish the book sometime in October, and all the time I had spent reading it (And a commentary along with it called Why Kerouac Matters: Lessons from On the Road by John Leland) I tried to reconcile the true message of the book with that of my previous notions and wild, insane dreams. It couldn't be done. Truth is, the book isn't necessarily about being a vagabond, rucksack wanderer traveling from one place to the next with no end in sight; "We've got to find some place, find something."
I don't really know what prompted this post, or if this is really what I had originally intended when I signed into the site. All the same, I'll keep going. I've got this far.
Maybe what prompted this is the "franticness". Things have felt crazy the last month. Things have felt crazy for a long time. Such is life. For me, I don't see an end, a beginning, and part of me still wants to go on that big vagabond journey. There has to be some big to do in which I'm finally propelled from the nest. I'm waiting for it. Trying to find it. Maybe I've just read too many stories, like The Odyssey, The Hobbit, Neverwhere, Stardust, ect. ect., where the main character has to go on this great quest. Leave the home, prove himself (or herself...sorry ladies), grow, gather a broader understanding of the world around them, and come back changed. Then settle down. What's the end to every action movie (or almost every)? Love.
Here is the quote that I used in the title with a bit more context:
"'I want to marry a girl,' I told them, 'so I can rest my soul with her till we both get old. This can't go on all the time -- all this franticness and jumping around. We've got to go some place, find something.'"
Yeah. There's an end. Making a home and family is at the end. We take all we learned from the world and adventuring so we can know how to raise kids and take care of the wife.
Unfortunately, Kerouac didn't have this in his life. Sal Paradise, the literary representation of Kerouac in On the Road, made it to the end with someone to potentially settle down with. As a matter of fact he chooses her over Dean Moriarity, the character who pulls him onto the road, and not just once but several times. Sal makes the decision to finally rest his soul with Laura, and ceases the madness with Dean. Kerouac did find a girl, Joan Haverty, but this was very short lived and tragic. As a matter of fact the rest of his life was rather tragic, and in the introduction to his novel Desolation Angels Joyce Johnson writes, "'A quiet life' became his stated goal, but he couldn't imagine how to achieve it."
When I first read this, I laughed, as Phil and I have joked about "The Quiet Life" which seems to be exactly what Kerouac was aiming for: a life without a woman. After reading the intro to Desolation Angels I felt I would rather not take Jack's path. At times I really admire his free spirit, go wherever the road takes ya sort of attitude. Even the "Crap man, I don't need a woman" seems rational. But it only takes you so far. And you have to find home sometime.
Still, I don't know what I was getting at. I rambled for too long. In conclusion, I love Jack Kerouac and all of his Dharma bummin', beatnik novels. But there's a lesson to be learned, and I wish I could've said it in a more concise manner and a bit more poignatly, but this was the best I could do. Its 3:23 in the morning. Lay off.
But one day I've got to find my road. And then, hopefully, rest my soul with another soul who's willing.
Goodnight followers. I leave you with this:
"It was remarkable how Dean could go mad and then suddenly continue with his soul -- which I think is wrapped up in a fast car, a coast to reach, and a woman at the end of the road -- calmly and sanely as though nothing had happened" - Once again, from Kerouac's On the Road
So I spend some of the summer reading it (I have my hand in some other books at the time as well...which has become a habit since I've been in this English Major gig. It used to be sacrilege to me to start another book while I was reading another. Now I just don't care.) As I read it, I still have that childish mentality that comes with almost anyone who reads Kerouac: I want to leave and go west to, live off the road, no home, loose friendships, and a destination as uncertain as the Second Coming of Christ. That seemed to be the life for me, and that's why I read ol' Jack.
I finish the book sometime in October, and all the time I had spent reading it (And a commentary along with it called Why Kerouac Matters: Lessons from On the Road by John Leland) I tried to reconcile the true message of the book with that of my previous notions and wild, insane dreams. It couldn't be done. Truth is, the book isn't necessarily about being a vagabond, rucksack wanderer traveling from one place to the next with no end in sight; "We've got to find some place, find something."
I don't really know what prompted this post, or if this is really what I had originally intended when I signed into the site. All the same, I'll keep going. I've got this far.
Maybe what prompted this is the "franticness". Things have felt crazy the last month. Things have felt crazy for a long time. Such is life. For me, I don't see an end, a beginning, and part of me still wants to go on that big vagabond journey. There has to be some big to do in which I'm finally propelled from the nest. I'm waiting for it. Trying to find it. Maybe I've just read too many stories, like The Odyssey, The Hobbit, Neverwhere, Stardust, ect. ect., where the main character has to go on this great quest. Leave the home, prove himself (or herself...sorry ladies), grow, gather a broader understanding of the world around them, and come back changed. Then settle down. What's the end to every action movie (or almost every)? Love.
Here is the quote that I used in the title with a bit more context:
"'I want to marry a girl,' I told them, 'so I can rest my soul with her till we both get old. This can't go on all the time -- all this franticness and jumping around. We've got to go some place, find something.'"
Yeah. There's an end. Making a home and family is at the end. We take all we learned from the world and adventuring so we can know how to raise kids and take care of the wife.
Unfortunately, Kerouac didn't have this in his life. Sal Paradise, the literary representation of Kerouac in On the Road, made it to the end with someone to potentially settle down with. As a matter of fact he chooses her over Dean Moriarity, the character who pulls him onto the road, and not just once but several times. Sal makes the decision to finally rest his soul with Laura, and ceases the madness with Dean. Kerouac did find a girl, Joan Haverty, but this was very short lived and tragic. As a matter of fact the rest of his life was rather tragic, and in the introduction to his novel Desolation Angels Joyce Johnson writes, "'A quiet life' became his stated goal, but he couldn't imagine how to achieve it."
When I first read this, I laughed, as Phil and I have joked about "The Quiet Life" which seems to be exactly what Kerouac was aiming for: a life without a woman. After reading the intro to Desolation Angels I felt I would rather not take Jack's path. At times I really admire his free spirit, go wherever the road takes ya sort of attitude. Even the "Crap man, I don't need a woman" seems rational. But it only takes you so far. And you have to find home sometime.
Still, I don't know what I was getting at. I rambled for too long. In conclusion, I love Jack Kerouac and all of his Dharma bummin', beatnik novels. But there's a lesson to be learned, and I wish I could've said it in a more concise manner and a bit more poignatly, but this was the best I could do. Its 3:23 in the morning. Lay off.
But one day I've got to find my road. And then, hopefully, rest my soul with another soul who's willing.
Goodnight followers. I leave you with this:
"It was remarkable how Dean could go mad and then suddenly continue with his soul -- which I think is wrapped up in a fast car, a coast to reach, and a woman at the end of the road -- calmly and sanely as though nothing had happened" - Once again, from Kerouac's On the Road
Thursday, January 21, 2010
To Be Honest, I Don't Know Who or What This Blog Is Avenging...
Well, if you're a very observant individual and take inventory of your surroundings, then you may have noticed the new title. Really, I don't know what sort of theme I'm going for here. If we go simply by the title, the blog centers around horror. It doesn't. I don't even know what I was getting at when I made the title, "Revenge of the Living Blog". Blob sort of sounded like Blog, so I went with the '50's B horror movie. If you came on here yesterday, you would've noticed (if you had your keen sense of observation then as well) that I drew a very, very, childish looking blob thing. With palm trees around it. It made complete sense at the time. So, really I'm trying to gather a sort of B movie horror theme. Why, I'm not sure. That's pretty much my reason for anything you ask me about my life.
"Mike, why do you like pancakes?"
"I'm not sure."
"Mike, why did you paint your toenails with sparkly blue nail polish over at Tabbatha's appartment that one time?"
"I'm not sure."
"Mike, why did you go to Webster University to get a degree in Creative Writing?"
"I'm not sure."
"Mike, why are you smashing your face in with a ball peen hammer?"
"Because my life is a sham...and I'm not entirely sure."
I really think we could end this post with that. I mean, what more needs to be said, other than that chest pain in my left pectoral has finally..."left". Haha, get it? Ah, such a wit Michael. Such a wit. Anyway, you can calm down. You can stop all of the fundrasing to save me. I think I'm going to do all right, and to prove it I'm going to raise a barn in my backyard.
"Why?"
"Ugh...I'm not sure."
And there's the start of my children's book, "I'm Not Sure". It's about little girl named Sage. Her entire life is devoted to one thing, and she's never really sure why. Nothing she does she is ever really sure of. And so on. That's all I got right now. Just made it up on the spot.
I'm done for today. Something lapped up my entire shallow puddle of creativity somewhere along the way. Sometime when I had my back turned. I don't remember turning my back on my creativity, but I am vulnerable to distraction. It's my only weakness. But sally forth readers. Tomorrow is a new day.
"Mike, why do you like pancakes?"
"I'm not sure."
"Mike, why did you paint your toenails with sparkly blue nail polish over at Tabbatha's appartment that one time?"
"I'm not sure."
"Mike, why did you go to Webster University to get a degree in Creative Writing?"
"I'm not sure."
"Mike, why are you smashing your face in with a ball peen hammer?"
"Because my life is a sham...and I'm not entirely sure."
I really think we could end this post with that. I mean, what more needs to be said, other than that chest pain in my left pectoral has finally..."left". Haha, get it? Ah, such a wit Michael. Such a wit. Anyway, you can calm down. You can stop all of the fundrasing to save me. I think I'm going to do all right, and to prove it I'm going to raise a barn in my backyard.
"Why?"
"Ugh...I'm not sure."
And there's the start of my children's book, "I'm Not Sure". It's about little girl named Sage. Her entire life is devoted to one thing, and she's never really sure why. Nothing she does she is ever really sure of. And so on. That's all I got right now. Just made it up on the spot.
I'm done for today. Something lapped up my entire shallow puddle of creativity somewhere along the way. Sometime when I had my back turned. I don't remember turning my back on my creativity, but I am vulnerable to distraction. It's my only weakness. But sally forth readers. Tomorrow is a new day.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
War Wages On
My stomach seems to have used his charisma effectively. I now have a mysterious sharp pain under my left pectoral. Possible organ failure. Either heart or right lung's twin brother left lung. I guess now its only a matter of time. Well done stomach. Us brain cells didn't think you were capable of such savagery with the potential to gather the will of the other organs. As much as I don't like to, I commend your efforts. Your power to sway the rest of my anatomical structure into full rebellion is impressive as well as terrifying. Perhaps you'll agree to some sort of treaty, yes? I'll stop eating so much, and you'll get increased pay with 2 months paid vacation? I simply want to keep breathing and have blood circulating at all times. You may not care stomach, but I need those. Real bad.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
The Headphone Jack Is Not The Same As The Microphone Jack.
Yeah, basically I had my music up really loud on my speakers, in a public place, and I thought the music was still coming in through my goofy green headphones, it was just really quiet. Wrong again Michael. You honorably recieve the stupid award. And by honorably, I meant shamefully. With the exact same shame of farting really loud when having dinner with your wife's/girlfriend's/fiancee's/significant something or another's parents. I don't have any experience in that sort of situation, but I could only imagine. And ladies, it's not that I've been a lonely young man all these years, never to experience the goofiness that is "love", its just, I've never farted in front of ANYONE'S parents. To my recollection. Just because I have action figures on my bookshelf and small collection of comic books underneath my bed DOES NOT mean I'm some creepy nerdy guy. I'm like a Don Quioxte.
"Don Juan"
"Who?"
"Don Juan. He's the ladies man. Don Quioxte was just some psycho Spaniard"
"Oh. Yeah."
"Windmills"
"Right. Windmills."
Actually, you know what? Yeah, I'm the creepy nerdy guy. So...just leave me to my Super Nintendo games. Okay?
Well, here I am, at Bread Co. on Watson. Again. Sans the 30-year-old woman. Maybe she got my note.
I'm here because the laptop's wireless capabilities are having marital issues with the router at our house. For what reason I do not know. Desktop in my room is also having difficulties connecting. Maybe its a love triangle. I thought computers in wireless networks had to be Mormon. And my father has declared martial law. There is a yellow Post-it on the monitor of our front room/dining area computer that reads, "DO NOT mess with this computer!" I think it has something to do with me turning it off yesterday. So if you ever think that you can just go all willy nilly and shut off a computer, you better think twice. The next time you turn off that computer, you could destroy everything in that magic box and really piss some people off. No more internet, or Microsoft Word, or solitaire. Or Mine Sweeper! God have mercy on our souls on the day when the human race loses the only free computer game that has become dear to them.
Anyway, so that's why I'm here. And I've noticed one out of every one person brings a laptop. The 2010 coffee shop is a beatnik cyberpunk world. We're all here to drink coffee and blog!
'Hey everybody! We're having a blog party!"
"...."
Okay. Maybe some other time.
There's really not a whole lot to mention. Yesterday I was going to scoop out some chicken salad from a Tupperware bowl and instead I chased the cat with the spoon raised in the air yelling. Like a savage. Which was similar to the kid who was running around on the hill behind my house with a stick. Those were the good old days. I don't know about the rest of you, but as an only child, there was a lot of chasing imaginary things with a stick. Or a pop gun. I remember right after we moved into the house we're living in now, I got this pop gun rifle. It had this lever underneath the trigger to cock the gun and then when you pulled the trigger it would make a loud pop sound. It was great. Somedays I would grab some beef jerky and run around in the yard with the beef jerky and the rifle and pretend I was roaming the frontier and the jerky was my only means of survival.
My point is, that part of my life was awesome. And seeing that kid running around enjoying his life reminded me of my own youth. I remember after Jurassic Park came out, I would run around in the backyard of our old house in Louisville (which was much, much larger than the yard we have now) with a Nerf bow and arrow and shoot dinosaurs. My life was pretty cool. I would much rather worry about defending my home from a very unexpected dinosaur invasion than say, hunt for a job. But hey, C'est la vie.
I think my real point of all this is, I was envious of that kid. I wanted the best for him. I wanted him to fully enjoy life. But, I also wanted to run around like a lunatic, and throw sticks at bushes as if I were throwing hand grenades at stationary, square-like robots. Problem with me doing that is, I would look like a lunatic. At least the kid looks fairly sane, running around alone, defending our neighborhood from who knows what. Thanks kid.
I only hope to have kids of my own to do that with. My only excuse. But they'll grow up too. And on goes the course.
Yeah. That's pretty much it. I'm going to get some more coffee.
"Don Juan"
"Who?"
"Don Juan. He's the ladies man. Don Quioxte was just some psycho Spaniard"
"Oh. Yeah."
"Windmills"
"Right. Windmills."
Actually, you know what? Yeah, I'm the creepy nerdy guy. So...just leave me to my Super Nintendo games. Okay?
Well, here I am, at Bread Co. on Watson. Again. Sans the 30-year-old woman. Maybe she got my note.
I'm here because the laptop's wireless capabilities are having marital issues with the router at our house. For what reason I do not know. Desktop in my room is also having difficulties connecting. Maybe its a love triangle. I thought computers in wireless networks had to be Mormon. And my father has declared martial law. There is a yellow Post-it on the monitor of our front room/dining area computer that reads, "DO NOT mess with this computer!" I think it has something to do with me turning it off yesterday. So if you ever think that you can just go all willy nilly and shut off a computer, you better think twice. The next time you turn off that computer, you could destroy everything in that magic box and really piss some people off. No more internet, or Microsoft Word, or solitaire. Or Mine Sweeper! God have mercy on our souls on the day when the human race loses the only free computer game that has become dear to them.
Anyway, so that's why I'm here. And I've noticed one out of every one person brings a laptop. The 2010 coffee shop is a beatnik cyberpunk world. We're all here to drink coffee and blog!
'Hey everybody! We're having a blog party!"
"...."
Okay. Maybe some other time.
There's really not a whole lot to mention. Yesterday I was going to scoop out some chicken salad from a Tupperware bowl and instead I chased the cat with the spoon raised in the air yelling. Like a savage. Which was similar to the kid who was running around on the hill behind my house with a stick. Those were the good old days. I don't know about the rest of you, but as an only child, there was a lot of chasing imaginary things with a stick. Or a pop gun. I remember right after we moved into the house we're living in now, I got this pop gun rifle. It had this lever underneath the trigger to cock the gun and then when you pulled the trigger it would make a loud pop sound. It was great. Somedays I would grab some beef jerky and run around in the yard with the beef jerky and the rifle and pretend I was roaming the frontier and the jerky was my only means of survival.
My point is, that part of my life was awesome. And seeing that kid running around enjoying his life reminded me of my own youth. I remember after Jurassic Park came out, I would run around in the backyard of our old house in Louisville (which was much, much larger than the yard we have now) with a Nerf bow and arrow and shoot dinosaurs. My life was pretty cool. I would much rather worry about defending my home from a very unexpected dinosaur invasion than say, hunt for a job. But hey, C'est la vie.
I think my real point of all this is, I was envious of that kid. I wanted the best for him. I wanted him to fully enjoy life. But, I also wanted to run around like a lunatic, and throw sticks at bushes as if I were throwing hand grenades at stationary, square-like robots. Problem with me doing that is, I would look like a lunatic. At least the kid looks fairly sane, running around alone, defending our neighborhood from who knows what. Thanks kid.
I only hope to have kids of my own to do that with. My only excuse. But they'll grow up too. And on goes the course.
Yeah. That's pretty much it. I'm going to get some more coffee.
Friday, January 8, 2010
The Famous Networking Site Once Again Silently Murders My Muse.
Hello again. If you haven't gathered by looking at the time stamp, its about 12:35 in the am on Saturday, January 9. Yeah, We're already that far. We just celebrated Christmas. And then time and life continued its lightspeed journey to the end. Thanks time, my mortal enemy. One of these days I'll defeat you. Until then, enjoy yourself. *Sneer*
I turned on my laptop to come on here and post something. Then I got distracted by Facebook for about 30 minutes. Facebook, also an enemy. "Hey Mike, log onto Facebook to check your updates and messages. It should only take five minutes"
"You sure Facebook? You generally..."
"JUST SIGN ON...please?" So I do. We hang out. Facebook tells me my friend commented on a photo of me. Then I look at my friends photo album. Make some comments. Change my status. Watch 20 videos my friend Dave sent me. Next thing I know, 3 hours of my life are gone. I'll remember this on my death bed. Sure, I could have enjoyed life, but instead I relived the past AGAIN by looking at photos and looking at Facebook pages of people whom I have not spoken to in at least 4 years, just so I know what's going on in their lives without actually talking to them.
Does anyboy else like the irony in that? A network to help us stay in touch with people we lost touch with, only to keep them still at arm's length, and that arm is hundreds of miles long? I thought it was good irony.
Anyway, Facebook ruined my life. So now I kinda forgot what I was going to write about. Oh, I was reading poetry and I thought about my professor and advisor David Clewell and how he said something along the lines of "Poetry is bigger than the poet". And I had this moment of satori, but its long since gone.
So, since I don't have anything to really write about, I'm going to bed.
I turned on my laptop to come on here and post something. Then I got distracted by Facebook for about 30 minutes. Facebook, also an enemy. "Hey Mike, log onto Facebook to check your updates and messages. It should only take five minutes"
"You sure Facebook? You generally..."
"JUST SIGN ON...please?" So I do. We hang out. Facebook tells me my friend commented on a photo of me. Then I look at my friends photo album. Make some comments. Change my status. Watch 20 videos my friend Dave sent me. Next thing I know, 3 hours of my life are gone. I'll remember this on my death bed. Sure, I could have enjoyed life, but instead I relived the past AGAIN by looking at photos and looking at Facebook pages of people whom I have not spoken to in at least 4 years, just so I know what's going on in their lives without actually talking to them.
Does anyboy else like the irony in that? A network to help us stay in touch with people we lost touch with, only to keep them still at arm's length, and that arm is hundreds of miles long? I thought it was good irony.
Anyway, Facebook ruined my life. So now I kinda forgot what I was going to write about. Oh, I was reading poetry and I thought about my professor and advisor David Clewell and how he said something along the lines of "Poetry is bigger than the poet". And I had this moment of satori, but its long since gone.
So, since I don't have anything to really write about, I'm going to bed.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Hey! Look At What I Wrote!
The underlining business of the blog post title, unnecessary. Too formal. I honestly don't feel like this is worthy enough of an underline. I don't even use the underline when I mention books in a paper. I use the italics. Yeah, italicize it. That's an answer. Calm down and give me italics. Underlining is too much. Makes me look prententous. Like I really think what I'm typing is great. Its trash. A sham. And if you think of it as being worthy of a thick line lying underneath the title, giving the title the right to step all over that respectable line, then you are a fool. I say free thick line. He deserves rights and is worth much more than the words who try to step on his beautiful face. Go on line, go on a vacation. You deserve it.
Other than that, I've been vomiting lately. And by lately I mean last night. Vomiting is the single most terrible of bodily functions, at least for dude. I hate it, especially when there is no reason for it. I don't know why I threw up three times last night. It just happened. Stomach must have got fed up.
"Hey! Hey you up there! You think you can just throw whatever you want down here?! I'll give you what for! Have your stupid lunch back! I'm going on strike!"
Aaannndd...hurl.
Profusely.
What the crap stomach? Really? I don't have time for your silly rebellions. You don't see colon freaking out. Or lungs. Heart has been pumping strong for 23 years. But you, you lazy stomach, you just feel like stopping your job right in the middle and sending it back to esophogas and mouth.
"I don't care what Mike says Essie and Mouth. We should have thrown him out a long time ago. What's that? OOOHH, Brain says! You know brain says a lot, but I think he's a jerk! He doesn't even do anything! Its that stem that tells us what to do! All brain does is sit in that comfy skull and think. I wish I could get paid to sit around and think. I'm on strike! You in liver?"
"Not really, man."
"Screw you guys! I've been trying to tell Appendix for years to pop his poisonous jucies so we can finally bust this joint, but no! I guess I'm the only one with some back bone."
"Actually, I have back bone. I am the back bone"
"Shut up spine! Nobody asked you!"
Stomach will finally stop rebelling though. That's what always happens. Sure, he thinks he can over throw the place, but after awhile he calms down. Get's it together. His wife, Small Intestine, finally talks him out of it. Reminds him he's supporting his children, Pancreas and Gall Bladder. Then he shuts up and does his job.
Until then, he's going to be throwing everything everywhere.
Other than that, I've been vomiting lately. And by lately I mean last night. Vomiting is the single most terrible of bodily functions, at least for dude. I hate it, especially when there is no reason for it. I don't know why I threw up three times last night. It just happened. Stomach must have got fed up.
"Hey! Hey you up there! You think you can just throw whatever you want down here?! I'll give you what for! Have your stupid lunch back! I'm going on strike!"
Aaannndd...hurl.
Profusely.
What the crap stomach? Really? I don't have time for your silly rebellions. You don't see colon freaking out. Or lungs. Heart has been pumping strong for 23 years. But you, you lazy stomach, you just feel like stopping your job right in the middle and sending it back to esophogas and mouth.
"I don't care what Mike says Essie and Mouth. We should have thrown him out a long time ago. What's that? OOOHH, Brain says! You know brain says a lot, but I think he's a jerk! He doesn't even do anything! Its that stem that tells us what to do! All brain does is sit in that comfy skull and think. I wish I could get paid to sit around and think. I'm on strike! You in liver?"
"Not really, man."
"Screw you guys! I've been trying to tell Appendix for years to pop his poisonous jucies so we can finally bust this joint, but no! I guess I'm the only one with some back bone."
"Actually, I have back bone. I am the back bone"
"Shut up spine! Nobody asked you!"
Stomach will finally stop rebelling though. That's what always happens. Sure, he thinks he can over throw the place, but after awhile he calms down. Get's it together. His wife, Small Intestine, finally talks him out of it. Reminds him he's supporting his children, Pancreas and Gall Bladder. Then he shuts up and does his job.
Until then, he's going to be throwing everything everywhere.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Thrilling Times Ahead
Happy New Year to whoever is reading this (probably just me *depression*).
We made it. Most of us did. I can't account for every last human being. But I can account for myself. And I'm pretty sure I'm right here, right now, which is fantastic. Congrats Mike. We're all proud. We're also proud you made it to your 23rd birthday.
Really, this New Year is terrifying. I just finished college and now I'm out to hunt for work. It's a new decade. A whole new world is ahead and I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. But I'm a genius, so I should get by alright.
That's right. Hire me. I'm a genius. I'll bring in the big bucks for your company.
You know what New Years Day is great for? Naps. I think this should be National Nap Day. Is there already such a thing? If its a whole day, and you nap the whole day, is that really a nap? A nap is rather short, a sleep is several more hours, but day would be a quasi-coma. Hmm. Either way, nobody does anything on New Years. Its just lazy day. So, a National Nap Day seems appropriate. Don't steal my idea. I want to be the one who has the claim to National Nap Day.
"Michael, as President of the United States, I award you with the Awesome Award. You're a stinkin' genius. Everyone loves Nap Day. I don't think there is a better a person in all the land."
"Why thanks Barry (That's what I call him, because we're buddies and he's cool with it). I mean, I might be one of the single greatest Americans of this generation"
"I know. You invented freakin' Nap Day. Who else is going to get his or herself together and think of something so incredibly awesome"
"Yep. Well, I'm going to go home and put this next to my Nobel Peace Prize. Still down for playing Mario Kart later?"
"Of course, of course"
Yep. That would be pretty sweet. But with New Years Day, people might forget about Nap Day, since it will always be overshadowed by New Years. Crap. Apparently I'm not as intelligent as I once presupposed.
Speaking of naps, I need one.
We made it. Most of us did. I can't account for every last human being. But I can account for myself. And I'm pretty sure I'm right here, right now, which is fantastic. Congrats Mike. We're all proud. We're also proud you made it to your 23rd birthday.
Really, this New Year is terrifying. I just finished college and now I'm out to hunt for work. It's a new decade. A whole new world is ahead and I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. But I'm a genius, so I should get by alright.
That's right. Hire me. I'm a genius. I'll bring in the big bucks for your company.
You know what New Years Day is great for? Naps. I think this should be National Nap Day. Is there already such a thing? If its a whole day, and you nap the whole day, is that really a nap? A nap is rather short, a sleep is several more hours, but day would be a quasi-coma. Hmm. Either way, nobody does anything on New Years. Its just lazy day. So, a National Nap Day seems appropriate. Don't steal my idea. I want to be the one who has the claim to National Nap Day.
"Michael, as President of the United States, I award you with the Awesome Award. You're a stinkin' genius. Everyone loves Nap Day. I don't think there is a better a person in all the land."
"Why thanks Barry (That's what I call him, because we're buddies and he's cool with it). I mean, I might be one of the single greatest Americans of this generation"
"I know. You invented freakin' Nap Day. Who else is going to get his or herself together and think of something so incredibly awesome"
"Yep. Well, I'm going to go home and put this next to my Nobel Peace Prize. Still down for playing Mario Kart later?"
"Of course, of course"
Yep. That would be pretty sweet. But with New Years Day, people might forget about Nap Day, since it will always be overshadowed by New Years. Crap. Apparently I'm not as intelligent as I once presupposed.
Speaking of naps, I need one.
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