Run, Rabbit, Run

Hello, Hi, Welcome, Bienvenido, Ni hao, Konnichiwa, Bonjour...so on, so forth.

I'm going to level with all of my viewers here: I got completely bored of the blog. Which is why, once again, it's been over two months since the last post. South Korea gave up on me. China gave up on me. Even David gave up on me. We haven't had one of his snarky comments in a long time (which, by the way Dave, you're off comment probation. You can come back now).

I ended up running the half marathon here in the great St. Louis city on Sunday April 10th, 2011. It was exciting, terrifying, electrifying, mind blowing, etc. etc. For those of you who are even the least bit physically inclined, I STRONGLY recommend running in any sort of race like this. It is an unforgettable experience. Yes, there is a lot of pain and hard work involved, but it is worth it. People are constantly cheering from the side lines of the race. You're running with thousands of other people who also trained and worked hard to reach this point, and there's a sense of unity. You're not racing against them but with them. The only thing you could be racing against is time and yourself. I guess that's the reason I never liked team sports. You're always working against somebody, and for me in gym class it was generally more against my team mates. Super competitive people made me feel inadequate. That's the reason why I hate playing football. I could never understand the game, we always played it in gym class, and I was always hounded by meat head jocks when I missed the ball (if they even bothered to throw the ball at me, that is). But I'm not bitter or anything. I think I'm pretty much over it (says my psychiatrist).

Running, biking, swimming...this are things that don't need competition. You can just do them. I guess you can just throw a ball back and forth instead of playing an actual game, but I'm going to be honest here and just flat out say it gets a little stale after awhile. At least running and biking have some change in scenery.

I'm getting a little off track. Enough about team sports and my scarred teenage years.

Yes, the race was great. I finished in 2 hours 28 mins. I regretfully didn't drink enough water along the track, took one of those Gu energy packets (these make you sick and ruin your life. Especially when you need something sustaining like water) around mile 8 and started to lose stamina a little after mile 9. I had trouble just moving at the same pace and ended up walking the rest of mile 9. After that I intermittenly ran/walked until the last mile. I had to finish that last mile strong, so I ran it and sprinted the last hundred feet or so to make it in under 2 and half hours. I didn't get my sun shirt out of the deal, but I got a lot of snacks, a neon green shirt, and a medal, which was good enough for me.

Other than that, things have remained pretty quiet. Not a lot happening and that's not okay but I can deal with it. Summer is here, or at least in my professional opinion. So, no more snow storms with ice, no more chapped lips, no more dry knuckles. Just sweat and sunburns for me.

That's all I have. I didn't really have anything loaded for this issue of The Living Blog. I'll whip up some good material for next time. Thanks for stopping in.

Going The Extra Mile

As soon as I welcome South Korea, they don't even bother to come on to the site again to look at their personal welcome. Come on, South Korea! I know I didn't stay up all night putting together this amazing welcome, but I at least considered you in my writings! You should be so proud and fulfilled. First it's me. My last name is Lee. I'm pretty much Korean anyway (except for that part where all of my ancestors came from Western Europe, the makers of measles and colonialism). And second, I love you guys. Really, I do.

But, I'm not completely abandoned. Another country has made a number of visits this week. And that country is...

CHINA!!

Yes, the will-be Successor in the global market (least, that's what I've been hearing all these years) has actually put forth the effort to visit my site. So, in this installment of "Revenge of the Living Blog" I give a big, WARM welcome to our Chinese pals. Thanks China for giving up your time to read some crazy American's blog. I really appreciate it. Keep it up too. It'll get really interesting here on the blog, I promise. Also, Happy New Year! Year of the Rabbit. I'm sure it will be a good one. I'll eat a lot of vegetables, hop around, and when an animal or human sees me I'll remain perfectly still with my eyes wide open and nose twitching in an effort to celebrate properly.

And South Korea...you can scroll down to see your welcome. If you wanna come back to the blog. Whatever. I don't care either way.

Recently I started training for a half-marathon. I officially started training little over a month ago right after I registered. It cost $85 to register. I know I was entering late, but that's a lot of money to run for a couple hours. I mean, I obviously didn't have too many qualms with the price since I paid for it in full. But I better get a couple bottles of free Gatorade and a really rad shirt. One that's neon blue with a cartoon sun wearing hot pink sunglasses doing a thumbs up. Then just below this cartoon sun it says, "Way to go, dude!" If I don't get that, this whole endeavour is going to be a complete waste. COMPLETE...

This half marathon I'm participating in is of course leading up to one of my life goals, to fully run a whole marathon without stopping. It would be a big deal to me, especially since there was a time in my life when I was fat and tried to do sports. 12-14 was the era of "chubby". Dark, awkward days those were. I had a bowl cut, which my mother cut WITHOUT a bowl (she's a skilled artisan. She doesn't need a straight edge. Her eye is a straight edge. In Apocalypse Now when Marlon Brando talks about a dream with a slug crawling across the edge of a straight razor, he actually speaks of my mother's eye. A slug crawls across her eye without being cut). My cheeks puffed out. My face and belly were very round. Yet, when I was 11 and 12 I participated in Cross Country. Becoming winded very quickly and the force of my belly weighing down my little 4'8 (approximately) body didn't stop me from running with the big leaguers. I was an athlete. I may have come dead last each time I competed, but I FINISHED.

So now that I'm older, taller, and drink less Dr. Peppers a day, I feel like I owe it to the little pudgy fellow of my past to finish a marathon. He put forth his all even thought he didn't have much and for that I thank you. You brought us half-way little buddy, and I'm going to finish for us the race.

Monday I did about six miles without too much trouble. I'm hoping to do at least six or more today. I have to be able to do about 13 miles by April 10th. Pray me some prayers.

That's all I've got. China, once again thanks for visiting. Hopefully we can get together sometime, drink oolong tea. I've got some yixing tea pots, maybe I could come over and stay for a few months. Bike across your beautiful country side, eat some great food, drink some fantastic tea. It'd be great. Hit me up sometime when you've got the chance.

Korea, you can come too.

Peace.

"In Our Day We Didn't Have 3D Graphics. We Had 16-Bit Sprite Images. And We Were Happy."

Before we get started today, I would just like to share some new found knowledge. Recently I discovered Blogspot.com allows me to look at how many people look at my blog (which, to my surprise, is a number larger than 1 [apparently I have some other fans, Dave]). Now, that information on it's own is very exciting. But I have something even better to add to that: People from South Korea read my blog. And quite regularly. I mean, Russia and China and some other spots in the world show up on my viewing statistics, but South Korea appears to be a pretty regular visitor.

With that said, I would just like to give a big American welcome to our South Korean brothers and sisters across the earth who frequently visit "Revenge of the Living Blog". I would like to also say, I love your part of the world, could you possibly find me some work and a place to stay? I would really like to visit (or live) in Seoul if possible. Kimchi is pretty tasty. I've never practiced Tai Kwan Do, but am willing to learn. That's about the extent of my South Korean knowledge.

Now, with that portion crossed off the list, we can finally move onto more important things.

Like, things we (Generation Y) will have to explain to our children 15-20 years from now. The last couple generations have been lucky in the sense that we've been able to see technology advance at an astonishing rate (well, astonishing for me. I'm always fascinated by the magic of technology. It might be because I'm not really savy on math or science. That doesn't mean neither subject interests me. I just don't grasp either subject as well as others. I'm a dumb emotional artist rather than someone with a vast amount of logic and patience). We've seen the explosion of the video game market in the late 80's into the 90's. We've seen the mediums of music, video, and games go from cassettes and cartridges to thin discs, enhancing the quality of each medium. Our children (my friend Phil Freeman brought this up) will never understand the phrase "Be Kind, Rewind" ("You guys had to rewind all your movies when you were done watching them?"). They won't understand the proper method of blowing into a cartridge to get a video game to work. They're method of getting a game to work will be to rub the disc on their shirt. Or maybe all the games will be 100% downloadable, like how books, music, and movies are becoming, so they won't have to wipe or blow anything at all.

It'll be a little strange I suppose. Still, I hope my kids are fascinated by the notion of the video game cartridge, just like when my parents and grandparents would describe old methods to me it would instill a bit of fascination.

The other day I was playing Mario Kart for the Wii with my friend's nephew. He's about 9 or 10 right now. Never experienced the 90's (poor kid). This is probably the only Mario Kart game he's ever experienced. Well, this one and the Mario Kart for the DS. Still, I knew he had never played the original Mario Kart for SNES, or even Mario Kart 64. As I was playing the new Mario Kart, I said to him, "You know, there was a time in Mario Kart when there wasn't a blue shell". I think I blew the kid's mind.

It's a small thing, but it gives me that refined feeling that I've lived a bit of this life. I'm getting to a point where I have certain cultural experiences that people born much later never had an opportunity to enjoy. There'll be more added on, I know. This is but a taste, and I like it. Doesn't make me feel old. At least not yet. It makes me feel privilaged, the fact that I have this secret knowledge of previous times in my brain. I, along with a few million others, are keepers of this knowledge, waiting to share when the proper time comes.

Maybe I'm giving us too much credit. As if Super Nintendo is as important as remembering The Depression or WWII. Still, as the up and coming generation, the one that is finally vacating the colleges to start overthrowing the world, we have certain histories (outside of old video games) that we'll have the privilage to tell succeeding generations.

And to that I say, "Remember when there were only a 151 Pokemon?"...

Letter Writing, Impertinence, and a Couple Other Things.

This next post will be mostly an extension of the last one, but only in the sense that I'll be following up in the subject of "I have a difficult time relating to the present times" (No Harry Potter in this post). I think that's partially because I missed out on pretty much every time period that preceded my own life. I realized this a long time ago, but only recently decided to lament the fact.

There's one thing specifically that I wish could have continued strongly through my own lifetime. Letter writing.

Personally, I think strong, critical writing in general has gone the way side. It's only used by those who write professionally or by a student needing to write a solid, thought out paper for class (even then mediocre writing is prevalent. I would know. I produced a lot of it no more that a year and a half ago). Currently we, as a society, have countless ways to publically publish everything we write, from Facebook to Twitter, to internet blogging. This unfortunately, doesn't mean every person who types something onto the computer and posts it online really took the time to really craft or, much less, really think about what they're saying.

That was another subject I planned to blog about earlier this week, but never really pulled it together: Impertinance. I suppose I have some time to touch on it in this blog.

Social networking has undoubtedly given us unlimited means of communication with those both far and near, but this doesn't mean all that communication is useful or important. As a matter of fact, I think it has fed our egos a little more (arguably the ultimate of human vices). Think about it: People can say (post) whatever they want and have the whole world (more specifically their world: friends, family) read about it, believing that people will care. And we end up caring because we comment with our own brand of meaninglessness and click the "Like" button.

Now, understand, I'm not calling everyone spending his or her free time on this sites a bean brained individual. But it's given people an opportunity to say what they want, but it nurses in our minds an impulsive, shallow way of doing so. For example, Twitter. Twitter gives the user up to 140 characters to say something, anything. It's like some sort of mini challenge: "What can you say in 140 characters?" You could say a lot of things. All of it is simple and to the point. Not a bad thing, but still the limitation involved doesn't always give the user an opportunity for a complete thought. An uterance. Maybe a joke, a quip, a shout out. A small quotation. Not a full, well rounded means of expression.

I guess my point in all this is, the current culture (myself included) has unlimited opportunity with writing but limited capabilities for growth in the writing. Simply, it's reduced. Therefore, people don't like to write anymore. I've NEVER heard a college student say, "We have a twenty page paper due in a month? Oh boy! I'm so excited to get started on that!" (well, maybe in a sarcastic tone. But NEVER seriously). Writing (and especially good writing) is somewhat obsolete in the day to day (read comments in a forum some time).

Which brings me to my initial point: letter writing.

This afternoon I went to the Borders in Ballwin, MO. The store is closing, so I decided to stop by and pick up a few books for cheap. I bought Billy Collins' "Sailing Alone Around the Room", Allen Ginsberg's "Howl", and a published collection of letters between Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. When I saw the book of letters I was ecstatic. If you're new to the blog, then you probably don't quite understand my love for Kerouac and the Beat Generation. It's actually quite inexplicable and I wish I could understand the reason for it myself, but all I know is that it's clearly there and it isn't going away. I digress. So I end up paying for the books and returning home. After I read "Howl" aloud to myself in my room (no one else was home to think me mad) I cracked open the letters book and began where most people don't: The introduction. Immediately I see that my sentiments about letter writing are reflected in the introduction:

"It is now common to lament the gradual demise of the handwritten or handtyped letter over the past decades. Significant blame is often placed, and rightly so, on the radical lowering of phone rates. Up through the mid-1960's, for many people calling long-distance across country was a rare and costly luxury, only to be indulged in for an emergency or to share news of a birth or death. But as technology improved, people could increasingly afford to pick up the telephone and talk through details of their lives with friends and loved ones, instead of taking the time to sit down and write. More recently, the advent of e-mail has further diminished the flow of snail mail correspondence." - Jack Kerouac And Allen Ginsberg: The Letters, xxi

I believe the last generation to truly enjoy and make use of letter writing was the Baby Boomers. My parents both came quite late into the baby boom. My mother was born in the 1958 and my father in 1961 (If I'm not mistaken. I'm never very sure). Still, I do remember a time, when I was much younger, when my mother would sit down and write out these long letters to her sisters and parents. Now most conversation between her and her side of the family is made with phone calls and, more than likely, emails (although my Aunt Sue does write rather lengthy notes in her Christmas cards).

As much as I don't want to admit to it, I don't think my generation, or the one before it, has much use for letter writing. Things are faster and easier now with the internet. We can say what we want and be done with it. Then there's that (possibly) personal sense of fame every time something is posted. I know when I make an exceptional status update I like to have everyone remark upon it. Of course, that is my ego (and yes, I do blame Facebook for making larger than it actually should be).

I'm getting off track.

Letter writing is a lost art unfortunately and I offer my lamentation (this is where refusing to live in my own time comes in). I believe, although maybe not firmly, that the internet has made the community of people sloppy writers. Everyone should have a good sense of speech, communication, and it's usefulness. I would love to see a letter in my mailbox randomly. Truthfully, though, it's a tough thing to constantly do. It takes time. It takes thought. There's sort of this big expectation that the recipient is going to really READ the letter. It's not like an email where one click of a button could make it disappear as if it never existed at all. It's there, it's real. You can touch it. Every pen stroke is visible. Every scratched out mistake. With that sort of pressure, it takes even more time to really make a letter. It is, in my personal opinion, art. From whomever it may be, it is a piece of art. Maybe I'm over romanticizing the letter. But let's be honest, if you recieved a letter tomorrow, how excited would you be? Especially if it was written by someone you really cared about?

I value the aniquity and the simplicity of it, I suppose. Say what you will, I think people would be better writers if they hand wrote or even typed letters to one another. Real letters. Not just email. A piece of writing in a stamped envelope. They'd at least value it more.

That's all I've got. Until next time.

Anachronism.

I've recently discovered I have a psychological issue. Self diagnosed, yes, but I'm pretty certain on it. The issue I have is living in the correct time period with everyone else. Allow me to explain...

For about 10 years now I've had the first four Harry Potter books. I read the first one when I was thirteen, then never touched the others and moved on with my life. And it was a pretty good life without them. Under my personal opinion, I functioned well with normal society without being well versed in the world of Harry Potter. Given, I encountered MANY individuals who gave their lives to this Potter fellow, buying the books the day of their release and reading them non-stop in one day. Then the movies came out, and that only made things worse (For their addiction, not for me). I didn't quite follow all these people to Hogwarts each year, with great expectation for the next installment. Instead, my copies of Chamber of Secrets, Prisoner of Azkaban, and Goblet of Fire sat on the bookshelf collecting dust.

Until about three months ago.

I finally cracked. Part one of The Deathly Hollows came out last November, and my friend Vanessa invited me to see it opening night. Now, I had seen the film adaptations of Order of the Phoenix and Half-blood Prince prior, but this time it finally dawned on me: "Perhaps, these last ten years, I've been missing something. I feel out of the loop and now I want to be in it."

So, at the start of December I started my journey to Hogwarts, beginning with The Sorcerer's Stone. I'm about a third of the way through Goblet of Fire at this point. Still hooked and plan to finish the rest of the series just to say I did before that last movie comes out.

Now, my point being, I should have read these things a long time ago. I'm 24 years old, it's 2011. I'm not with the program. I'm still in the 2000's. And worst of all, I suddenly have no one to talk to them about. These people who were super excited and obsessed about these books have moved on with their lives. It's about the Obama Administration, the economy, healthcare, the politcal upheaval in North Africa, Twilight, Justin Beiber, Lady Gaga in an egg.

Well...after I finish these books, in a couple years, I'll start watching Lost. And I'll get really excited and want to talk about it. But no one will listen. They'll tell me things like, "Mike, that was like 10 years ago. You missed it, get over it". Or I'll buy a Lady Gaga album in 2020 and talk about how good it is and people will say, "Mike, Lady Gaga built a spaceship and drove it into the sun. The gaga for Gaga phase is over."

Who Am I? What have I become?

Motivation.

Alright. So it's been awhile. Forgive me.

I was beginning to wonder if something happened to me as well. "Oh no...what if Michael is in a ditch somewhere with two broken legs and we can't hear him? Oh, wait..."

I wanted to post something back in December. Really, I did. Then I realized it wasn't worth it and that I could just call up David (undoubtedly my most loyal...and really only...blog follower) whenever I had something of worth to talk about. Then I kind of tickled the notion of maybe, POSSIBLY, posting back in January. Once again, couldn't bring myself to log on, stare at the computer idlely until something great popped into my head to type about. But today I figured, "I'm here...why not."

So welcome back! Big news right now...the blog, if you hadn't noticed already, is officially a year old. I thought about getting him a cake so he could slop around in it and then I could video tape the whole thing and show it to him later to embarrass him, but then I realized the blog is not a living entity (In spite of the title).

Still serving the Tea Lords in an endless effort to bring precious capital into their establishment. It's tough because I find little to no reason to give all my effort. When I don't recieve acknowledgement or praise or really any sort of value in my work, I tend to not care quite as much. Especially when constantly it's my weaknesses that are being highlighted and very, very rarely my strengths. Not to say that my pride and ego need to be inflated constantly. Or maybe they do and that's a shortcoming on my part, but I think we should get some return for our work even if it is, "Hey, good job".

It could be that I'm just soft and whiny. Some people never get recognition, work hard week after week, coming home tired with little time or energy left for hobbies or people.

That's the reason there hasn't been a post on here in three months. Lack of motivation. It's like I need some end goal, or something of worth to keep me going otherwise I feel like whatever I'm doing is just killing time and I don't want to kill time because I don't need to. I have things to do, people to meet, places to see, escape plans to make, one life to live. If there is no purpose or value I feel as if it's a waste (Says the man who spends countless hours on Facebook).

I will try to diligently continue to post on this site though. No matter how many people see this I need to understand that this is working the writer that is slowly wasting away inside me. This blog is like practicing scales on an instrument, stretches and exercises before a big run or game, a sketchbook for the artist. There's a muscle in my brain that will need constant training and development, so if I can just focus on that I'll be more willing to post on here.

No if I could just do the same for when I work in the Tea Mines of Moria...

"Our Set Tonight Is...Not Exact. It Could Go A Lot Of Different Ways. So Just Hang With Us. We'll Get There."

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.