A Book of Bluesy Saturdays

Losing the Race

2012-01-25T23:17:00.000-08:00

Heading into the Royal Rumble in St. Louis this Sunday, the RFT ran this story about wrestling legend Harley Race. Stories like this seem to be the only exposure for wrestlers anymore. Whether it's inflammatory headlines like "HULK HOGAN GAY", a heart-wrenching tale detailing the steady decline of Ric Flair, or any of the string of wrestler deaths over the past few years. (Only four in 2011, but one of those was one of the greatest of all time). I feel like the highly-publicized Benoit incident opened the gates to this attitude towards wrestlers. That, combined with the almost parallel trajectories of the lives of Hogan, Flair, and the fictional character of Randy "The Ram" Robinson, makes retired wrestlers seem like a pretty pathetic lot.

The RFT story does nothing to shake this attitude. Race limps around his Eldon, MO training school, overweight and smoking cigarettes. For $3000, a young, wide-eyed WWE hopeful can get screamed at by Race in his gravelly voice, but unfortunately will get no real in-ring tutelage from him. To be fair, there are some talented kids that come out of his camp, and the offspring of some very high-profile names are apparently training there right now.

I met Harley Race back in 1996, only a year after his hip was crushed in a car accident. He looked about the same as he looks now, but with less gray hair. He limped then, and I can only imagine it has gotten worse. He is out of shape and looks like he won't make it another 5 years (though I did say the same thing when I first met him).

The company who stands to lose the most from this negative portrayal, WWE, doesn't really seem to do much about it. Wrestlers are seem as independent contractors, have no health insurance, work an astounding number of days per year, and treated as though they are expendable. Unless young guys get a dose of good advice they may lead themselves down this same road. Good Ole' J.R. was known to tell rising stars two important pieces of advice: 1) pay your taxes, and 2) prepare for life outside wrestling. Some people took that advice to heart. Others, less so...

Ok, so professional wrestlers aren't the most upstanding human beings all the time. Sometimes they have "substance abuse problems". That's no reason for the biggest game in town not to show a little paternalism and guide young wrestlers in a smart direction. There are plenty of complaints to lodge at WWE about their product. I'd be content to see changes in their policy.

The Great Ones

2012-01-15T14:32:00.000-08:00

It's no secret that I love cooking. I've had some pretty bad failures, and overall I'd say I'm probably only an average cook, but I really love doing it. This love didn't blossom in a family kitchen or over my mother's shoulder. It happened in front of a Zenith TV set on PBS. I remember KETC being full of how-to's in the 80s and 90s: This Old House, The Joy of Painting, and a strong lineup of cooking shows. Watching these shows as a kid, I fell in love with cooking without ever setting foot in the kitchen. We never had any of the ingredients to make the stuff on the shows, and my mom didn't want me anywhere near the stove.

The urge to cook kept bubbling until I was out on my own, and needing to feed myself. By that time PBS was no longer showing how-to's anymore (and I can't understand why). But there was a little thing called the internet to help in the kitchen. Being a broke kid at the time, I could only make the cheap stuff, but I never felt like it was that hard. I found it enjoyable, just like I knew I would.

Of course, from the locally broadcast shows of the 80s have developed the cable networks that specialize in how-to's, and food has two channels solely dedicated to it on U-Verse, and a handful of others that dabble. I have my favorites, though there are scores of mediocre personalities. There are also some really bad cooking shows. And then there is the Axis of Evil Eating--Paula Deen and Rachel Ray. I'll spare a rant on the two of them for right now.

The point of this is that my love for food came from the TV personalities in the 1980s. Martin Yan was the flashy one. His exaggerated, broken English and showman smile were accented with slick knife skills and borderline racist one-liners. Here he shows you how to bone a chicken:

If Yan can cook, so can you!
If Yan can cut up a chicken in 18 seconds, I'd still probably be careful and take my time.

Jacques Pepin was the sophisticate. That thick, sometimes-hard-to-understand accent, and is that a lisp I'm catching? Or just his indelible French-ness. His show was not broadcast as regularly as the rest, so it was always a special treat to see him work. Here Jacques has a crack at a chicken:

The most unfortunate case is Jeff Smith. He wasn't as flashy as Yan, and did not appear to have nearly the culinary background of Jacques, but he was easy to watch. He always seemed friendly enough, and it was fun to watch his excitable fits on TV. It was shocking to see the allegations brought against him, and they have certainly marred my opinion of him. Of course, it isn't easy to know who to believe in these situations. The plaintiffs note that they did not discover the psychological damage that Smith's alleged abuse caused them until 1997. That always sounds a bit fishy. But the fact that so many people had come forward does seem too much of a coincidence. The fact is, at the end of the day, such an illustrious on-air personality is tarnished merely by the allegations. It's just hard to swallow, if all you see is The Frugal Gourmet. It's like someone telling you that Bob Ross led an underground dogfighting ring. Smith died in 2004, so we may never know the truth. Better to let the memory of his on-air pleasantness survive.

That brings us to today. Around the turn of the century, Food Network, and a guy by the name of Emeril, brought excitement and prestige back to the how-to cooking show. He had charisma, a charming smile, vaguely foreign sounding name, and catchphrases. In addition, he had the culinary pedigree to silence those typically critical of the actual knowledge of TV cooking show hosts. Personally I could take or leave him, but he made a lot of people excited about cooking again.

What he did do was carry a small cable channel into the new millenium with some pocket change to produce more shows. Around this time one of the true heavyweights of TV cooking was starting to make some buzz.

Alton Brown is the mad scientist. He may not have the strongest culinary background, but he knows the science of food. Coming into his own in the 21st century, when consumers are caring more and more about where their food comes from, was fortunate for Alton. Alton may not give you the most exotic recipes, but he will tell you everything you want to know about mayonnaise.

Giada De Laurentiis is the beauty. I've actually made a lot of her recipes, and they are usually very easy and come out tasting great. That really is all you can ask of a competent host. It's just a bonus that she has a huge rack and a pretty face.

Last but not least is the anti-hero of the group, Tony Bourdain. I hesitate to lump him in with this group because he's less of a TV chef and more of a tour guide. He is only one step removed from Andrew Zimmern, who would probably wrap his lips around the tailpipe of a Volvo if you convinced him it was custom in some random third-world country (actually it looks like he DID), or Samantha Brown, just with more f-bombs. His show is entertaining, but something tells me if I met him in person I probably wouldn't like him. He reminds me of a neighbor I had once.

TV cooking show hosts have to do more than cook. They need to make cooking seem like the greatest thing you can be doing. Whether it's because they seem like they have been sharpening their skills in the kitchen/dojo since they were able to hold a knife a la Martin Yan, or because they can conjure up obscure historical facts or use bundles of garden hose to explain skirt steak. I imagine the sweet old grandmother baking cookies with her grandchild can have this effect. But while my mom was burning dinner in the kitchen, I was letting Martin Yan teach me how to fry rice or slice water chestnuts.

I AM the 1%

2012-01-12T14:36:00.000-08:00

So it started last night with the Oprah-endorsed documentary, "I AM"

Tom Shadyac was a Hollywood comedy director who, aside from jumping the shark circa 1998 when he started collecting some of that Nutty Professor money, also rediscovered his life in 2007 when he fell off a bike and suffered from Post Concussion Syndrome for months afterward. During this time he decided to give up his worldly possessions, created a homeless shelter, and moved into a trailer park. I'm skeptical about the PCS, but whatever. He wants to do good, so I can't hate on that. The problem is, I don't know exactly what he has in mind. Throughout the film, he is talking to experts like Lynne McTaggert and Howard Zinn. (It is pretty funny when, as a preface to these and other interviews, he is asking Noam Chomsky and Desmond Tutu if they have heard of "Ace Ventura"). He wants a shift away from science, away from the belief in a mechanistic world, and there is a short video segment on the failures of science (the world is flat, Newtonian mechanics, physicians prescribing cigarettes in the 1950s). But then, to support his "the world is connected" idea, he turns to... pseudoscience? I'm not sure what Dean Radin is studying at the Institute of Noetic Sciences, but it doesn't really appear to be science. Even Shadyac seems a bit uneasy once he meets up with THIS guy:

Rollin McCraty (his real name) is Executive Vice President and Director of Research at the Institute of HeartMath, where they mayzure how the heart interacts with the environment. They use precise instruments to collect mayzurements and improve the ways we can mayzure the electromagnetic effects of the heart. Honestly, he just looks (gold teef, really?) and sounds like a Will Ferrell character. Is anyone supposed to take him seriously? To be fair, Shadyac giggled a bit as they discussed the ways his emotions affected the bacteria in a sample of yogurt on the table in front of him. I tried to find out where he got his PhD, but that information just isn't out there.

Anyway, so after dismissing the whole thing as quackery, I realized that "movements" or "organizations" like this have existed in various forms for a really long time. There is something timeless about learning the best way to live your life. There can be good intentions at the root of these ideas, but they are usually spoiled by a lot of smoke and mirrors.

Seeing Vanguard this morning reminded me where these good intentions come from...

This episode focused on two families in Houston, Texas. One was very wealthy, the other was financially struggling. Nothing new here. What isn't in the trailer, though, is at one point Lucinda Loya (the rich wife) is being interviewed, talking about growing up living out of a car collecting welfare. She says she has a great life now, and her own interior design company, but still doesn't feel like she's "made it".

I felt like that was the single point on which the whole story turns. I felt for the Starr's, even though, ever wary of liberal influence, I was still critical of a few choices they made. Maybe they didn't need TWO fuel GUZZLING trucks. Maybe Paul Starr could drink something other than a convenience-store bought beverage. Who knows how many questionable financial decisions were made to lead them to their unfortunate position. The fact is they are where many American families find themselves, for better or worse. So what are we supposed to do about it?

There are two ways to read Lucinda Loya's comment. If she doesn't feel like she's made it because, at the end of the day, with the fancy house and fancy car, she still isn't happy, that leads us to a "money can't buy you happiness" kind of conclusion. But surely, based on the recent purchases of Jay-Z and Beyonce, it can...

Or, Lucinda could be saying that no matter how much she has, she still wants more. Then we're left with a "money is a disease" kind of juggernaut consumer apocalypse. It might be that the former is really a consequence of the latter. In any case, is it too much to ask of these incredibly wealthy, who don't really love their money all that much, and are getting sick of it anyway, to please give another 4% to absolve the financial missteps of people like the Starrs? I know you don't know them personally, and their mistakes aren't your responsibility, but c'mon... a $20K high chair? Really?

Moral Machines

2012-01-07T15:36:00.000-08:00

It only takes a semester of graduate philosophy to really make you look at everything differently. A lot of it is probably due to indoctrination. It seems to me there must be something very different about writing philosophy, compared to writing for other disciplines (literature, sociology, anthropology). From the outside, all academics (or at least their work) seem the same: full of a kind of self-inflated pompousness that is immediately alienating. Philosophy is unique in that the battle lines haven't really moved much in its 3+ millenia history. The analytic-continental line, though it is often described as a moving target, is a rough divide. In any case, it's the words that make all the difference. This seems to be the point stressed to me by my instructors, at any rate. So in reading popular literature, magazine articles, even watching movies, the effects of reading and writing philosophy become magnified.

Consider Colin Allen's recent NY Times article, The Future of Moral Machines. I certainly applaud his effort, as I do anyone who tries to keep philosophy in the public eye. The problem is, I came to this excerpt, and could go no further:

"Perhaps ethical theory is to moral agents as physics is to outfielders — theoretical knowledge that isn’t necessary to play a good game. Such theoretical knowledge may still be useful after the fact to analyze and adjust future performance."

I wasn't quite sure what to make of this. How much physics does an outfielder have to know to actually make use of it and adjust future performances? Studying formulas will certainly not help the outfielder judge the trajectory of a ball as it jumps off the bat. Physics would, however, be able to predict with 100% accuracy, the trajectory of a ball given precise conditions. The outfielder merely knows that if the ball is in the air, it will travel in a fairly uniform path, such that he can follow it and make a play. His folk-physics actually maps onto the more precise scientific physics. As any ethical theorist will tell you, there are plenty of exceptions to folk morality's claim on an objective theoretical foundation. I might go so far as to say there is no objective foundation at all.

But how does this relate to his larger point, of developing "robot ethics"? Robots, in their current and foreseeable state, are extensions of the intentions of their designers. Assigning an ethical code to the robots is merely to require an ethical code in design. If technology gets to the point that we fear it is possible for artificial intelligence to arise, the "technological singularity" as it is called, would we not merely impose limits on design that keep the robots from rising against us? All artifacts in the world can be put to a morally unfavorable purpose, but to talk about "sledgehammer ethics" is no more than to speak of the ethics of people using sledgehammers as tools. It is the implementation of the artifact that is at issue. If the technological singularity is surpassed, the robots would no longer be subject to limits by design, and could be judged as free moral agents in their own right.

Shake Your Moneymaker

2012-01-05T09:48:00.000-08:00

My brother-in-law is determined to turn a great idea into millions. It could be a business idea, a service, or a tangible item. These ideas always seem to be floating in his head. It seems to me that the people who are likely to actually make money from a good idea have personalities like his. Their minds are always swirling with ideas, and they have a keen eye for spotting a demand in the marketplace.

I will be the first to admit that I do NOT have this kind of personality. I do, however, have a constant stream of wacky ideas. Most of these I disregard as completely insane, or, at the very least, useless to the general public (stylish wristbands made of beef jerky, or condiment dispensers attached to the outside of the fridge like an icemaker). But there seem to be a plenitude of successful products on the market today that could have been dismissed for the very same reason. The Snuggie is nothing more than adult full-body pajamas, and they don't even have the feet in, but they still sell a buttload of those. (Specifically, a "buttload" here is something like 4 million plus units.) And the crazy ideas just keep coming.

The Snuggie is like the Chuck Norris of the entrepreneur world. It's something we're all familiar with. I mean, really, prior to the Snuggie, who HADN'T dreamt of an adult set of full body pajamas. Sure, the Snuggie is really more of a blanket with sleeves, but it's the same general idea. In much the same way, we all know Chuck Norris, and we knew him even before he became a cult icon. Whether we watched him fall to the fists of Bruce Lee...

or watching him thwart the Lebanese terrorists with Lee Marvin in The Delta Force...

or thrilling audiences as Colonel Braddock in the Missing in Action movies.

So how did Chuck Norris become so popular? Sure, he starred in some action movies, most of them pretty terrible. How do you go from being a B-movie star to a pop culture icon? It's really all about how you market it. Chuck's only saving grace is the fact that everyone had been exposed to him, in some form or other, in the 80s. (If you lived in St. Louis, the exposure most likely came on a Sunday afternoon on KPLR-11). All everyone had ever seen of him was a bearded karate-man snapping necks and shooting guns. The popularity rose out of taking this caricature, and making it ironic. And as we all know, irony is super cool these days.

The folks behind Snuggie did the exact same thing. Most adults nowadays grew up wearing full body pj's, and the fantasy of an adult pair is obviously not uncommon. The problem was, prior to the Snuggie, it seemed like just that--a fantasy, and a ridiculous one at that. The thing the Snuggie people did right was to take this ridiculousness, and make it ironic. They put together a corny commercial, went heavy on the cheese, and Voila! The product became an overnight success.

So if commercial success really is just that simple, how have I not hit it big yet? I would chalk it up to my personality. Even if I struck paydirt with the right idea, I just don't have the drive to turn it into a reality. All of my ideas, whether they are good or bad, just get swept under the rug. But then, Chuck Norris probably felt like the same had happened to him in the 90s, prior to America's strange fixation on him.

As an aside, watching those old clips got me thinking. Even though Chuck Norris notoriously starred in B-level action flicks, there was some pretty serious (albeit fading) star power in The Delta Force. It was Lee Marvin's last film, Joey Bishop played one of the passengers, and Martin Balsam (one of the Jurors from 12 Angry Men), Robert Vaughn, and Shelley Winters were a few of the other names to grace the cast list. It was like one last big gunpowder-and-patriotism-fueled hurrah for some great actors. Lastly, does anyone ever wonder how Cannon Films could possibly have gone under? These were the people that brought us Death Wish, Cobra, American Ninja, Breakin', Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo, and Masters of the Universe, just to name a few. These movies are stamped in the minds of 30 and 40-somethings all across this country. It's a shame that the 90s were so cruel to such a visionary institution.

Milestones

2011-12-23T15:14:00.000-08:00

As of right now, my Quit Now! mobile app is telling me that in 37.7 days, I have saved $169.68 by not smoking 754 cigarettes. These numbers seem pretty staggering, and should motivate me to continue abstaining. I've been here before, though, and as amazing and it seemed then, and seems now, it doesn't mean anything unless its permanent this time. Just like last time, I feel like I am over the worst of it, and there should be no foreseeable reason I would start smoking again. The only difference this time, is that my wife now has a 10+ month headstart. Really, I feel confident about our success this time. I just don't want to do it anymore.

In the process I may also end up reaching another goal, but not quite in the way I imagined. When I was trying so hard to gain more weight, getting to 185 always seemed out of reach. Or at least, the "clean" way I was trying to gain was not getting me there. Now, having given in to terrible food cravings in place of cigarette cravings, I am steamrolling towards 185 from a slim 168. And I'm getting there a little faster than I'd like. On the other hand, I can't quite resist eating sweets, especially in the evenings. Thinking it better than going back to smoking, I have been enabling myself by buying tons of junk food at the grocery store. Not to mention all the cookies and candy hanging around the house due to the holiday. In the short term, this is an acceptable trade-off, I guess. But I didn't want to permanently trade one chemical dependance for a slightly less dangerous one; trading lung cancer for adult onset diabetes still doesn't seem like a good idea.

I don't mean for this to become some blog about smoking. It's just really hard to underestimate how difficult and pervasive a change of life that it entails. Quitting was supposed to be a milestone. It was supposed to mean something, like I was better than a habit--especially one so obviously harmful. But, if I don't do something soon, I might end up getting there via a means I do not necessarily endorse. I might reach 185 lbs. by wolfing down Donettes, licorice, and cookies.

Nevermind

2011-07-25T22:28:00.000-07:00

Of the four magazines to which I subscribe, two recently ran articles featuring a look back at Nirvana's Nevermind. Since my generation was a prime target of that music, I figured I should be able to weigh in on the subject. My instinctual response is just kind of an "eh". Smells Like Teen Spirit was a great song to bang your head to, and I added the album almost out of obligation to my initial wave of BMG selections when I was 14. After a few listens, in all honesty, it sat on the shelf, giving way to Soundgarden or Pantera. I feel like the cultural shift to a kind of languid ambivalence that is commonly associated with the band's popularity and influence seems like it was already set in motion well beforehand. That is to say, Nirvana did not single-handedly blanket the country in malaise. And besides, they were not the only act on the planet with the same "who gives a fuck" attitude. In any case, Kurt Cobain's suicide surely is a primary reason for the almost mythical aura about the band. As Amy Winehouse would attest, sometimes stars burn a little too bright and burn themselves out. Talented musician? Sure. Level-headed human being capable of consistently good decision-making? Maybe not. Living the life of a rockstar carries with it too many opportunities for self-destruction, and falling easy prey to the lure does not an historic figure make.

Observations on Smoking

2011-01-29T16:48:00.000-08:00

After nearly a month of following the rules of smoking which I had laid out for myself, I have a few observations.

Quitting smoking is entirely mental. Success is a measure of your ability to overcome the urge to smoke, or distract yourself from it. For myself, this ability has been unstable at best. Sometimes, I find ways to keep myself busy, and I will not only meet the two-hour minimum requirement, but overshoot it, being none the worse. In other cases, I find myself watching the clock, pacing or frantically trying to occupy the time remaining until my next cigarette. Not only does the anticipation make me restless, a lot of times it makes me just plain cranky.

The positive effects do not seem to be quite as pronounced, but I guess this makes sense since I have only scaled back my habit, and not cut it out entirely. The only noticeable benefit, for the first couple weeks, was that each cigarette was accompanied by a nicotine buzz--a feeling not unlike what I felt when I had my first cigarette, or smoked very infrequently. The buzz itself was not the benefit, but instead the fact that the reduction in smoking made each cigarette felt more so than chain smoking during the course of a day. After those first couple weeks, the feeling has since subsided, leading me to believe that I have now completely adjusted to my current level of smoking. This Wednesday another hour will be added to my minimum time between cigarettes. With my current schedule, this really only allows me to have 3-4 cigarettes a day. I am curious if this will meet with a similar effect.

All in all, though it hasn't been overly strenuous to adapt to the new smoking schedule, it still is not without its challenges. I anticipate things to get a bit harder when smoking is relegated to a once-a-day activity.

Try Again

2011-01-05T20:59:00.000-08:00

Just when I was starting to feel better about my essay, I was hit with this:

That's not my name!!!

Historically, most people have had trouble pronouncing my name. You would think that those in the philosophy department would be able to cut and paste my name, which I printed clearly on my essay. Instead, it seems like they took the way they thought it sounded, and printed their best phonetic interpretation. Clearly, someone wanted to kick dust in my eyes while I was down. They will be receiving a strongly-worded letter requesting correction.

[EDIT: At my not-so-strongly-worded request, this error has since been corrected.]

Moving on...

The wife and I wanted to make a change in 2011. Let me backtrack... we wanted to make a change in 2010. Both of us stopped smoking--cold turkey--on New Year's Day 2010, and went strong until March 25th. A combination of circumstances provided the temptation, impetus, and opportunity, and--though I am sad to admit it--we failed. We are trying again in 2011. The wife has gone cold turkey again, but as I lacked the same resolve I had last year, I am trying a different approach.

Step 1: Rules is rules
Starting out, I laid a few preliminary ground rules. First, no smoking before my first meal. If I don't eat breakfast that day, I don't get a cigarette until after I eventually eat. Second, a 2-hour minimum between cigarettes. Not only will this prevent me from chain-smoking, but it will severely limit the amount of cigarettes I can have in a day. Third, no smoking in the car. This is the area that may be most challenging, as I seem to associate driving with smoking. Last, and most importantly, failing does not mean failure. If I slip up, it doesn't give me an excuse to let the program fall apart.

Step 2: Add more rules
After one month, the second rule will be increased to a 3-hour minimum. After two months, 4-hours. And after three months, a 6-hour minimum will have me down to a maximum of 2 cigarettes a day. By the end of April, I will be ready to eliminate cigarettes completely.

Step 3: Not smoking rules!
Though the program seems a bit drawn out, I do respond well to regimented programs. Also, being able to smoke in bits and pieces will rule out the overwhelming temptation brought on by fellow smokers (at least for a while). Ultimately, the idea is to quit. So even if it takes a few months to get to that point, if it is successful, it was well worth it.

Horseshoes, Hand Grenades, and Happiness

2010-12-13T22:58:00.000-08:00

I'd like to feel relieved that, after months of wrestling with the effects of children on happiness and well-being, I comfortably arrived at what I believe to be a solid conclusion. I'd like to know that I gave it a strong effort, and be content with that. Unfortunately, I cannot. I was certain, at the time, I had covered my bases. I had attacked this beast with every weapon in my arsenal. Now, looking back, I feel I should have done so much more.

Perhaps I was overzealous. After putting so much time and effort into something, it's hard not to be proud of it. Maybe my confidence got the best of me.

In any case, here it is. The runner-up for the 2010 Ronald Munson Philosophy Award:

The Effects of Children on Happiness

So Much for That...

2010-11-14T19:08:00.000-08:00

After a thrilling win over Chelsea last week, Liverpool was asleep at the wheel again this week in a 2-0 loss at Stoke City. The fiery Fernando Torres from last week once again became the sniveling striker who refuses to defend. My main criticism of Torres is that he plays the role of the primadonna better than the position of striker at times. Stuff like not making a run on a ball just out of his stride, not hustling back to defend in his own third, and not playing defense aggressively when he does get back. It's much more productive to shrug off a weak tackle and have a shot rather than dive and try to draw a foul, but on his worst days, Torres always seems to choose the latter. The trouble is, there are plenty of great players on the Liverpool team who do not have the same problem Torres does, but they all seem to have bad days at the same time. Players like Kuyt and Gerrard and Raul Meireles are all quality players, and I hate to see them playing poorly. This really would have ruined my day had I not learned of some refreshing good news that happened at Stamford Bridge.

A Surrogate Band

2010-11-08T08:38:00.001-08:00

I have to start by giving shout-outs to Liverpool, for a huge win Sunday over Chelsea. The season is still pretty much shot, and it will be a huge uphill battle just to crack the top 5. Nevertheless, seeing Fernando Torres back in form, and seeing the mighty Chelsea offense silenced for 90 minutes was a great feeling. It had a tangible effect on my Sunday.

I went to see Roger Waters with Bob, Tito, and Butch a week or so ago. For events with such a huge build-up, I am not good at processing the experience right away. I think I've had enough time to think about it, and I have a few observations. First, I have no photos or videos or sound clips from the show. Sure, I have a fancy new phone with an HD camcorder, but that really isn't my thing. It has less to do with any copyright infringement or impact on the performance, and more to do with its effect on my enjoyment of the show. A gentleman in front of me at the show was trying to capture as many pieces of the show that he could, and was constantly switching between camera, video recorder, and voice recorder. The problem, I think, is that he spent most of the show fooling around with his phone. So later on, when he listens to the clips he recorded, he can only think "Yeah, I remember this part. I was fooling around with my phone, staring in my lap. Good thing I recorded this part so I can actually pay attention to it this time." But the show had some really good high spots, and a few low points. My observations:

1. During "Hey You", he had the whole crowd in the palm of his hands.
2. "Comfortably Numb" was very well done, and the guitarist's solo was very good.
3. "Run Like Hell" was missing something. I thought this when the show was over, and I wasn't exactly sure what it was missing, but now I know. Dave Gilmour's voice.
4. It tended to get a bit too political, especially during "Vera".
5. Is it supposed to be ironic that an album about the dangers of rock stardom has become a traveling roadshow that is the epitome of rock stardom, with huge sets, big budgets, and a huge backing band?

I knew this concert wouldn't be a life-changer. Roger Waters was always my least favorite Floyd, and the Wall one of my least favorite albums. However, I couldn't pass up a chance to see it once. I feel like I got my money's worth (but the folks on the floor paying $1000+ for their ticket, I'm not so sure), but for 10x less, you can see El Monstero put on a great show in December. And really, Roger Waters' act is, for all intents and purposes, still a cover band.

Welcome to the 21st Century

2010-10-27T13:00:00.001-07:00

The Samsung Vibrant I decided on could be the greatest purchase I have ever made. I really had no idea how efficient the machines, and the network, really were. Its a pretty powerful computer in my pocket. Some of the apps that really got me excited were Angry Birds (great for the can), and Google Goggles. The latter is what really made me sure that I was holding a device from the future. Technological advances really shouldn't surprise me, but I found myself just thinking "No... How is that even POSSIBLE?!" So yeah, its pretty cool.

On the philosophizin' end of things, after reading resource literature, I have decided that I can't say something like "No one should have children", and instead try to say something like "Only SOME people should have children".

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WWMIBD?

2010-10-03T20:39:00.000-07:00

"Brrring! Brrrring! Hello, Cheese? No-- Cheese can't dial a phone!"
-Captain Monterey Jack

So Tracey and I are considering getting new phones. We don't really need them right now, but we are due for a new contract, and can get new phones if we want them. Also, T-Mobile has a buy one-get one free deal on smartphones. My current phone, the Dash, was a total debacle. It was an earlier breed of smartphone, and the only reason I chose it was because it was Windows based. The online functionality was terribly limited, so I stopped paying for the data package within 6 months. I felt this was a poor investment, as I like to squeeze every red cent of value from most of my purchases (weight bench, arcade stick, GPS, etc.) Now the game has changed, and a new Droid phone offers plenty of functionality. The (required) data package is an extra $30 per month, per line based on our current plan. This isn't a huge amount of money, but I am obviously the kind of person who will want to use it all the time to make sure I get my money's worth. But this begs the question: Do I want to become that guy? Do I want to have my nose buried in my phone all day? I don't have a job that demands a Smartphone, so I'd primarily just be surfing the net and looking at YouTube. I'm sure I could justify the investment, but do I want to? Isn't this symptomatic of what Veblen called conspicuous consumption?

11 Years

2010-10-01T08:17:00.001-07:00

As of today, Tracey and I have known each other for 11 years. The first day we met was also a Friday, when I played chouffeur to a group of girls for the evening. Tracey had a distinct swagger that I noticed right away, and thought was pretty unique for a girl. Now I'm thinking maybe it was just a limp or something. Annual celebrations of days like these are still important, but will slowly start taking a back seat to our wedding anniversary. Hey, at least I bought flowers!

The wrestling match with happiness continues. The other day I was struck with what I thought was a slam dunk example (thanks to NKI for the inspiration). I thought the very fact that we have children would be a counterexample to virtue's not being necessary for well-being. After consulting with Anna, this doesn't quite seem to be the power punch I thought it was. But, it's still a subject deserving of inquiry. I have literature I can start poring through to develop an argument. Instinctively, I would want to argue that having children is a pretty terrible choice, but one that we pursue to fulfill our humanness. This seems pretty dangerous to assume. But dangerous is good, right? More to follow.

Boys in Blue

2010-09-14T19:25:00.000-07:00

A big shout-out to my other favorite footballers, Glasgow Rangers, for holding Man U to a 0-0 draw today in the Champions League group stage. Though they didn't put much together offensively, they managed to form a stonewall defense and keep Alex Ferguson's men at bay. I wore my jersey in support today, and I'm glad to know it paid off. Its also strange to see Ally McCoist as assistant manager. He is older and according to Andy Gray "a changed man". Good for him. It was that bastard Gazza that led him astray anyway.

Happiness, Pt. 2

2010-09-12T20:35:00.000-07:00

Nearing the end of the course on happiness, it's time to start thinking about paper topics. So far, Haybron has done away with traditional theories of happiness. Hedonistic theories--theories that measure happiness as the positive ratio of pleasant to unpleasant instances--fail as they do not cut to the cores of our soul. One may find enjoyment, say, in listening to music or eating a cracker or having sex, but to say that a life spent doing those activities endlessly is a happy one is to undermine the term, and the depth of human psychology. More substantive emotional responses, like love, get to us more than these trivial matters, and should weigh more heavily in our evaluations of happiness. Life satisfaction theories--theories that value happiness as equal to the respondent's overall satisfaction with their life--are the other prevalent theories of happiness. These fail, Haybron states, due to evidence of the contextual nature of the answers given, and the heavy influence of social norms on the respondent. Research has shown, for example, that the mere act of finding a quarter before the survey led to a marked increase in the responses given. Also, answers tended to be highly inflated with the presence of a disabled veteran in the room. This means that the respondent really has no accurate metric for giving their answer. This theory, then, must be taken lightly, as the evidence shows.
What Haybron puts forth is an 'emotional state theory' of happiness. Namely, that happiness is constituted by central affective states; that is, states that are of sufficient magnitude to affect us at a core level. It is also constituted by mood propensities, our our tendencies to be cheerful or depressed or anxious in a given set of circumstances. The defense of this theory is more lengthy than I am willing to give here, but needless to say I am generally in agreement with it. One point to note, however, is that virtue has no value as it pertains to happiness, and in fact the author gives examples where the two can stand against each other. I took issue with this, but as yet have not been able to put my finger on why.
Haybron then moved on to theories of well-being, or how to lead a good life. After shutting down subjectivist theories of happiness on the grounds that they presuppose an objective meaning to happiness, and thus are in contradiction with themselves, Haybron attacks perfectionist theories of well-being, typically held by Aristotelians. These theories state that well-being is attained through the fulfillment of our natures. Our nature being the individual value we bring to the world. This, he claims, it too strict a notion, and he arrives at somewhat of a compromise: a more sentimentalist, non-perfectionist view of well-being, with happiness at its center. Specifically, in judging matters for our lives, happiness should be our core value, and we are mistaken if our choices reflect any other value in its place.
Obviously I am not giving a full account of his work, but again, I am generally in agreement with him. In the case of well-being he does again neglect the value of virtue, and states it has value only insofar as it affects our happiness. This, intuitively struck me as problematic, but I am still having a hard time building a case.
As it stands right now, Haybron is explaining practical applications of his theory. The population at large is incorrect in their overwhelming assumption (roughly 94% of Americans) that they are happy. In fact, most people do not know if they are happy, or what would make them happy, and in fact make choices, by and large, that make them unhappy. Values are misplaced, authentic happiness does not occupy the place in our value system that it deserves, and our attempts at well-being are frustrated by socially-imposed values that conflate the situation.
So far, so good. Right? But what about virtue? What value does it really have? I simply can't accept the fact that altruism is a peripheral benefit only to be pursued when it suits the acting agent. But where do I start?

Speaking of happiness, one thing that makes me UNhappy is watching my Reds play like garbage. It's bad enough seeing Fernando Torres underperform, but to see people like Lucas, Maxi Rodriguez, Jamie Carragher, and ESPECIALLY Glen Johnson playing like shit just makes me doubt the potential of this squad for the season. The 0-0 draw to Birmingham is simply an unacceptable result. Thank God for Pepe Reina.

In Pursuit of Happiness

2010-08-29T20:12:00.000-07:00

I flew the coop at Falcon Technologies on Friday, August 13th. I am pursuing a Master's Degree in Philosophy from UMSL. I gave a month's notice, and broke ties cleanly and on good terms. It's time to set off on the quest to make myself happy. The first day back on a college campus was a little jarring. Thankfully, I have my youthful features to disguise the fact that I am a bit older than most people on campus.

The material so far has been fairly engaging, but most interesting is a late addition to my schedule--"The Pursuit of Unhappiness", based on a book of the same name by Daniel Haybron, an assistant professor of Philosophy at St. Louis University. Haybron posits that most people do not, in fact, know what makes them happy, and in acting in accordance with what we think is best for ourselves, we actually dig ourselves into UNhappiness. The course is taught by a very kind, very pregnant professor who is attempting to cram the entire course into 4 weeks in anticipation of imminent childbirth. This means we are covering ground on Haybron's book at a substantial clip. It's a compelling argument, and I find that it resonates with me especially in light of my interest in the concept of self-remembering, not to mention my recent career change. In spite of moving through his work fairly quickly, we are still only in the process of eliminating what a theory of happiness is NOT. Namely, hedonism's claim that happiness is a positive balance of pleasure versus pain, or the life satisfaction theory that suggests happiness is a measure of how satisfied we are with our lives. I'm on the edge of my seat waiting to see what Haybron says happiness IS, and I am sure this will provide ample fodder for reflection both here, as well as essays that count towards a grade (which will also, more than likely, be read by more people than anything I say here).

C'mon, Ref! What are you, BLIND???

2010-08-06T14:06:00.000-07:00

Poor officiating has been a point of contention in every professionally-played sport in the world. We've all seen an umpire call a ball a strike, or incorrectly call a runner out. We've screamed at the blind referee who unfairly disallowed a goal due to an incorrect offsides call from a linesman. These calls can affect games in greater and lesser degrees, but nowhere else is the impact of poor officiating more potently felt than in the world of mixed martial arts. A premature stoppage, a hesitation in standing up fighters, a missed illegal grounded knee, or a poor judge's decision not only affect the quality and outcome of a fight, but potentially the entire future of a fighter's career. A bad call on a pitch could be the end of an at-bat, but that batter will get countless other chances to redeem the maligned call. A fighter who is unfairly handed a loss may never be able to recover. Dana White recognizes this too, and has spoken out about it recently. Apparently the UFC has tried to implement screens at each of the judge's stations, to allow them to get another vantage point if their direct view of the action is obstructed. Hopefully--though it isn't mentioned--these screens have a rewind button on them as well. The state of Nevada's athletic commission frowns upon these screens, though, and will not allow judges to use them. Even if these are a huge help to the accuracy of a judge's decision, this still does not help stop poor officiating from a referee. I have seen all of the above instances of a bad call from a UFC referee time and again, but the worst, I mean WORST of all, is the seemingly INFINITE number of cage-holding infractions that seem to slide. When I see a fighter grab the cage a dozen times in the span of a minute, and the ref issues a single verbal warning, that's what makes me know that maybe all the details of how to call a fight haven't quite been worked out yet. Refereeing an MMA fight seems to be highly subjective, and it is times like those that make it seem even more so. Boxing has suffered from poor decisions as well, but due to the added elements of kicks and ground-fighting, there is a lot more potential for missing calls in MMA.
Dana White calls for education. I think that's part of the solution. The other part is standardization. I wonder, if you polled 10 state-licensed MMA referees, and asked them the following questions, if you would get a consistent answer?
What constitutes a cage-grabbing violation?
What is the difference between a knee to a downed opponent, and an accidental nudge with the leg?
When is a fighter knocked out?
What are grounds for calling a TKO to a fighter being attacked on the mat?

There are many more good questions besides these, and a handful to pose to judges as well. Until there are hard, fast answers to these questions, officiating an MMA fight is nothing more than a glorified guessing game.

Blue Turns to Red

2010-07-19T13:43:00.000-07:00

The hole left by Yossi Benayoun at Anfield has been adequately filled. According to Sky Sports, Liverpool has just signed former Chelsea midfielder Joe Cole. Cole's presence with Chelsea had been subdued in recent years as there was a wealth of talent filling out the midfield. It may take some adjusting for me to start liking a former Chelsea player. Hopefully, due to his lack of attention at Chelsea, he feels like shitting all over Frank Lampard too, in which case I think I will like him just fine.

On to the Next One

2010-07-17T12:39:00.000-07:00

So I have my next project started.

I did a raw build so I would have a chance to see how pieces fit together and work out any seams before I get to painting.

There is a hobby shop near Gravois and Lindbergh called Schaeffer's that had all the Tamiya paints I needed, so I am ready to get started on this one pretty soon. I was going to Hobby Station in Kirkwood, but those old men look at me sideways every time I try to explain to them that a Gundam is not a train of any kind.

Today was spent out of the hot sun that brought temperatures close to 100 today. Organizing and computerizing around the house today, and NKI Sendoff Party II--The Return at Lucas Park this evening. Nick came into town this week and I took vacation to hang out with him before he returns to Japan for probably another year. Good times were had this week, and I caught up with some old acquaintances, laying groundwork for the next few months.

KABOOM!

2010-07-06T19:24:00.000-07:00

No, not the cereal. Like fireworks. 4th of July. The rockets red glare and all that. I spent the majority of my holiday weekend finishing Blue Destiny 3.

I used a Gundam marker for the panel lines, but they came out a bit heavy, especially on smaller parts like the head.

But I soldiered on, applying decals I picked up from Samuel Decal.

After a flat overcoat finish, the parts were assembled, and the RX-79BD-3 was born.

The pictures could probably be better, but I'm no photographer. And I have a few areas that need improvement. Panel lining is one. Another is eliminating seams. But I learned a lot this time around. I had never picked up an airbrush before this model, and I was pleased with the results. Decals really add an extra dimension to the kit. It was just a shame to put so much work in beforehand, only to be upset with fat black lines on the helmet.

Silver Balls

2010-06-28T06:19:00.000-07:00

I don't remember my dreams too often. I will go through a six month drought where it feels like I haven't dreamt at all, and then I will have a short spell of crazy dreams that I always do my best to remember. Usually, I forget the whole thing by lunchtime, but the dreams that tapped out the drumroll for this weekend were a couple of doozies. Without going into painstaking details, I will simple say that I don't understand why Ian had wooden shoes for hands, and what did I possibly do to Stephen Colbert to demand such a heartfelt apology and embrace?

This weekend was packed with exciting adventures. So many, in fact, that it made the weekend fly by. Friday night was first--initially an evening without any plans, it turned into a pinball/punk rock/PBR extravaganza when, at the suggestion of Emily and Cameron, we met Bob for some drinks at The Silver Ballroom. The premise of this joint is pretty simple: take a hot, crowded, loud, punk rock bar and cram one corner of it full of pinball machines. Voila! A fun Friday evening! Even if you aren't so frisky with the flippers, who can argue with sharing a drink with a pal while his/her attention is solely focused on putting balls in the Bride of Pin-Bot's eye sockets? The choice of pinball machines at The Silver Ballroom deserves some kudos as well. Aside from Bride of Pin-Bot, they also have The Champion Pub, Elvis!, and Revenge from Mars (along with a dozen others). Sadly, the only machine missing that would have made the assortment perfect is Medieval Madness. Nevertheless, though most of us lost our voices, a good time was had by all.

Saturday began with organizing and various errands, and ended with the TOOL concert at the Family Arena. With a few slight changes, this show was very similar to their last visit to St. Louis, in 2008(?) on the 10,000 Days tour. Both of these concerts, however, cower in fear of their 2001 monolithic performance at Savvis, while touring for Lateralus. Complete with the same jarring visuals that marked their two most recent shows, the 2001 show added another element--namely, silver painted people dangled by cords from the ceiling and writhing upside down. As Bob and I had discussed Saturday night while standing in the Family Arena parking lot waiting for the unreasonable amount of traffic congestion to subside: when we were younger, concerts were still a new experience, so each one had a huge amount of build-up. As we got older, and have seen more and more shows, it takes something special to surprise or impress us. 2001 impressed me. Don't be fooled, though. TOOL is a great touring act, and if you've never seen a TOOL concert before, catching a show on this tour would be a great experience. The fervor of TOOL fans is unmatched as far as I've seen, and packing a house full of them creates an unrivaled energy that will pull you in whether you are a huge fan or not.

So after a late rising on Sunday morning, and a great breakfast, I had hoped to get some modeling done. All the pieces are airbrushed and ready for decals, panel lines, and assembly. Decals aren't as easy as I thought, though. Cameron dropped off a How-To issue of Fine Scale Modeler that had tips on decals, weathering, building dioramas, etc. None of this included Gundam modeling, but plane/tank/ship modeling in the US is pretty much the apex of the hobby in this country, so there are plenty of good tips to use. Soon I will be finished. Soon....

Unfortunately I didn't get the chance to model on Sunday, so I read the magazine for a bit, then Larry came by and we moved some stones out of our yard and the yard of Mildred, our elderly neighbor-lady. We managed to finish just as a heavy storm came in.

And of course, I can't discuss this weekend without mentioning the heartbreaking loss of the US National Soccer team to Ghana on Saturday. Every team is allowed a rough start, but the fact the the US played like total garbage in the first half of every game during this World Cup is inexcusable. A World Cup win (or even advancement beyond the Quarterfinals) would do wonders for the sport in this country, and the boost in interest would most certainly generate additional ad revenue for the sport as a whole. But hey, at least we did better than France and Italy. My pick for WC victory now? Argentina.

Happy Birthday to Me

2010-06-09T19:39:00.000-07:00

Today is my 30th Birthday. It wasn't a terribly exciting day. I took the day off and went to lunch with a friend. I got my present on Sunday when Tracey threw me a surprise party, complete with awesome cake made by pals Emily and Cameron.

But the real treat on my birthday was the task I had set before myself:

Pieces cut and prepped, separated into bags by body part.

The airbrush station awaits.

I used up all the gray primer I had, and will have to continue this later.

"We are of Bajor."

2010-06-04T07:36:00.000-07:00

One year ago today I was frantically rehearsing a piece for performance in front of a musical icon, and my personal hero. I had been eating a strictly vegetarian diet for the past six days, and was still struggling with sleep in the midst of a nasal orchestra. Still, I felt oddly serene, and was using that time to prepare myself for the momentous change that was to occur.

Today, though I generally sleep more restfully, and I have no performance for which to prepare, I am not serene. Certain aspects of my life are no longer tenable for the long-term, and changes have to be made soon. The aim has not entirely been formulated, but the process is underway.

It's funny how things come full circle sometimes. Five years ago, Spike TV was airing Star Trek: Deep Space Nine in its entirety, and I would come home from work to watch episodes I had taped. Upon finishing it, I realized it was the best sci-fi TV series I had ever seen. (For fans of Battlestar Galactica, just know that I have not given BG a shot, even though I have heard great things about it). Now, five years later, I am jonesin' for Sisko, and am beginning to watch full episodes online (just try to ignore the Chinese subtitles). In the time between, the series had not really crossed my mind, but recently, I am starting to remember how great it was, and I need a taste.

I bought an airbrush earlier this week from Craigslist, and yet again the experience was strange. The seller had no reliable contact number, and every time I tried calling him back on a number he left for me, or called me from, it was disconnected, was a neighbor across the street, etc. It made me more and more apprehensive about the process, but the airbrush (and compressor) were too cheap to pass up. When I finally did talk to the seller, and he attempted to give me directions to his house in Fenton, I wanted to make things a bit more convenient for me. When his directions were something like "Turn left, then turn right, then drive blah blah blah Trailer Park" I knew we would have to meet somewhere else. I got my wish, and "somewhere else" ended up being Ellisville, 30 minutes away. His wife delivered the brush to me, and she was nice enough, but after the transaction was complete, I couldn't help but feel like it was so much trouble. In the future, I'm sticking to eBay. Oh well, at least now I can make my "Tracey + Frank 4-EVA Spring Break 1987" t-shirt.

Prince of Whales

2010-05-25T06:50:00.000-07:00

I awoke this morning from a dream that I was back at Raft Island, WA. It was nearly a year ago that I left for a weeklong retreat before marriage. The urge to go was pre-empted by an upcoming big life change, and the need to mentally prepare myself. Perhaps revisiting it, even if only in dreams, is being pre-empted by another big life change, the details of which are only sketchy to me at present.

For the past few days, respiration has been at a meager 40%, with nasal pathways blocked by histamines and allergens. It seems to me that developing seasonal allergies later in life is counter-intuitive. I thought the function of the immune system was to develop permanent resistance to particular substances, not slowly deteriorate and succumb to allergens I have come into contact with my entire life.

In other news, as temperatures rise above the 90 degree mark, my car is currently at St. Charles Foreign Car getting the A/C repaired. The proprietor was kind enough to lend me a Passat (with 200,000+ miles on it, but still running like a dream, mind you) in the interim. Without my precious satellite radio, I have been listening to NPR. Yesterday's topic has been of particular interest to me recently: whaling. I first took an interest in this subject after seeing something on Oprah (Tracey TiVO's it, I swear) about Japanese dolphin drive hunting, and how absolutely horrible it is. One guerilla activist formerly worked on the set of TV's Flipper, and swore that the show's namesake died in his arms...of DEPRESSION. Writing this off as complete bullshit, I tried to do some digging. Surprisingly, it is difficult to find a PRO-dolphin killing group, or at least one with English as their primary language. So when the subject of whaling was mentioned, they had my ear.

There is currently a proposal to suspend a moratorium on commercial whaling, of which only three countries currently take part: Japan, Norway, and Iceland. The International Fund for Animal Welfare obviously has a problem with this. But when Patrick Ramage, the IFAW's Whale Director, was on the program, he avoided any concrete scientific discussion, and again appealed to the "majesty of these animals". He said something to the effect of: "I have swum with these whales in the southern oceans, and I have seen the bond of a mother and young whale, and heard their songs (they even sell CDs of whale songs), and based on this you can not deny that whales are sentient creatures with feelings and emotions". Bull shit. Karsten Klepsvik, from the Norwegian Whaling Delegation, made a much more convincing argument, citing that the Minke whale population in Norway is under no threat of extinction, and the scientific community has in no way sustained that the whaling quotas set by his country are endangering the species. Here is a breakdown of the Norwegian rationale for whaling.

The funny thing is, when I heard about the dolphin hunting, I initially thought it to be different from whaling in that the dolphins are a highly populated species, and under no threat of extinction, so why shouldn't the Japanese be allowed to hunt them? Now after researching commercial whaling further, I realize there is no real threat to the whale populations either, and the appeals from environmental agencies are nothing more than heartstring-tugging anthropomorphizations of these animals. This argument does nothing but drive me away. There are scores of Hindus who would argue for the majesty of bovine creatures, and yet we slaughter cows knee-deep in their own feces every day to keep the wheels turning on massive-scale industrial beef production. You tell the average American that Hindus are offended because we are slaughtering and consuming sacred creatures, they would give two shits. I just don't understand...

Strikeforce

2010-05-17T06:30:00.000-07:00

Saturday night I attended Strikeforce: Heavy Artillery at the Scottrade Center. This is the first time I have seen a live MMA event of this magnitude, and I have to say, it was disappointing in a lot of ways.

The first disappointment came in seeing pal Erik "The Striking Viking" Steenberg fall prey to a guillotine in less than 2 minutes. This is the first mark on Erik's previously flawless record, and it was a shame it had to come on such a grand stage. Erik has a lot of skill and I think he was taken off of his feet, and out of his gameplan. Better luck next time, Erik!

Another disappointing factor in seeing a fight in a venue as big as the Scottrade Center is the view. Unless you are ringside, you may as well be watching it on TV in the comfort of your own home. Though I was trying to follow the action in the octagon, the cage obstructed my view, especially from far away, so I ended up looking at the big screen most of the time for a clear view. This is reason number 1001 why I prefer a roped ring to a cage.

As far as the fights themselves, the event had an extensive lineup packed with some big names. I take nothing away from Strikeforce and the big signings they have made. For an organization with no PPV revenue, they manage to shell out the bucks when it comes to talent, and they should be commended for that. If I have any issues with the fights, it was only due to individual performances. The first disappointment was Kevin Randleman. Coming off of a loss to Mike Whitehead in his Strikeforce debut last June, Randleman needed a win to stay relevant to the world of mixed martial arts. At 38 years old his potential upside is waning, and the path to light heavyweight glory could have been blazed here, but The Monster is really a shadow of his former self. True, Roger Gracie had 6 inches on Randleman, but he has fought taller guys before. What made this fight the most upsetting was that Randleman, a former NCAA Division I wrestler for Ohio State, was afraid to get inside and shoot on Gracie! In trying to keep the fight standing he was really hurting himself, as there was no way Kevin could overcome the reach advantage held by Gracie. The fight ultimately ended with Randleman submitting to a rear naked choke in the second round.

Another disappointment--and an even bigger one--was Andrei Arlovski. A former UFC Heavyweight Champion, The Pit Bull used to be one of the most feared fighters in the world. There is no shame in losing to Antonio Silva (even when he isn't on steroids), but it was the manner in which Arlovski lost that was such a letdown. Arlovski came out of the gate looking pumped and ready to beat Silva. During an early exchange Silva landed a straight punch that drew some blood from the nose of Arlovski, and from that point forward, the fire and tenacity of the Pit Bull went out the window. He became very tentative in his approach, and consequently the fight never got out of 2nd gear. For his part, Silva also had a subdued approach as well. His gameplan, which appeared to be baiting an Arlovski punch and counterattacking, was solid and worked to perfection, but it did not make for an exciting fight. Arlovski is still relatively young, and has plenty of time to turn things around, but since leaving the UFC in 2008, he has lost 3 of his last 5 fights. He either has to start winning, or be content remaking early 90s action films (see Universal Soldier: Regeneration).

My last, and probably biggest, disappoinment is the way Strikeforce structured (or, really, didn't structure) the evening. Imagine going to see a concert at your city's biggest indoor arena. You are juiced with adrenaline when you arrive for the opening act, and you can feel the electricity in the air. The first band plays, and you and the rest of the crowd are totally into it. After the first band's set, there is a break. There is a relevant advertisement played on the Titan-tron, and then a strange awkward silence. No notification is given of when the next band will play, so people start filing out to get drinks and use the restroom. While they are out, the next band comes on. They play a short set to 75% of the attending crowd. People in the halls rush back to see the band playing, but the set is over before they can make it. So now, having learned from that second act, everyone waits. They wait silently and patiently during the extended silence between sets. By the start of the next band, the entire crowd is restless and annoyed. The band's cry of "Are you ready to rock, City X?" is met will an unenthusiastic grumble. All the juice that was so tangible at the start of the night has dispersed due to meandering silence, lack of cohesion, and poor flow. This is what I experienced at Strikeforce. And when I got home to watch the event on Showtime, I realized I wasn't the only one who had it bad. The televised coverage of the event ran under by 24 minutes!! No undercard fights were shown, even though there was plenty of time between fights to do so. Maybe I've been spoiled by WWE live shows, which work very hard to make sure the audience stays "into it", but the in-person experience of a large scale MMA event could use some work. Not to mention, the broadcast was a TV producer's nightmare. Come on, Showtime! You can do better than that!

Anderson Silva: Runnin' Wild!

2010-04-12T13:13:00.001-07:00

Anderson Silva successfully defended his UFC Middleweight Title on Saturday night, in a self-aggrandizing display of... I'm not sure what. He was like the Muhammad Ali of mixed martial arts, if Ali was mildly autistic and was fighting a disinterested opponent. I don't really understand how Silva--lauded by most critics as the best pound-for-pound fighter in the world--who clearly had his opponent in the palm of his hand, could settle for a decision earned by prancing around the ring and gesturing to his jaw like a mute kid asking for a bowl of Count Chocula. He wasn't so much fighting Demian Maia as he was playing some strange version of "The Farmer in the Dell", with Maia playing the part of the cheese.

While all this tomfoolery was happening, Georges St. Pierre, the Jean-Claude Van Damme of the UFC, was watching from ringside. He had a vested interest in this fight because if Silva won, he would fight a "dream match" against GSP at 170 lbs sometime this year. St. Pierre was no doubt wondering if this was some tricky mind game on the part of Silva to dupe him into thinking he was legally retarded, and maybe he should take it easy on him.

Many pundits of the sport believe that this sets up Silva as the villian for this dream match, whenever it takes place. I say how can a guy who looks perpetually dopey be seen as a villain? Even when he was turning Rich Franklin's face into mush, Anderson Silva never so much as grimaces. Instead, while throwing knees into Franklin's eye sockets, "The Spider" looks more like he ate too much oatmeal, and is trying to discreetly pass gas ever so gently, so as not to shart in his skin-tight biking shorts.

Don't get me wrong, I am hyped about a GSP-Silva matchup. These two are my favorite MMA fighters, and arguably some of the best of all time. But whether he was trying to show off, protect himself, or get inside Demian Maia's head, I just can't understand what Silva was doing Saturday night.

I don't know how long this video will stay up, but see what I'm talking about here

RIP EJK2

2010-04-05T06:57:00.000-07:00

It was a different kind of Easter celebration this year. On Thursday, March 25, Tracey's grandpa passed away, and all the family holidays are going to undergo a slight change going forward. Mr. K held fast to the holiday traditions he had fostered over the years, and as these traditions get passed to a new generation, they become modified to suit the needs of this new generation. Perhaps things will be a little more casual from now on. That was the case this Easter.

As I thought about Mr. K's life, I realized he was so much more to me than a passing acquaintance. He was a man I had known for more than a decade--more than a third of my life. Our relationship had changed dramatically in those ten years. In the beginning I had to almost be hidden from him, as my relationship with Tracey still existed in subterfuge. As time wore on, his demeanor changed, and thus our relationship changed as well. He went from being a hot-tempered, outspoken man to a more subdued, peaceful soul. As my relationship with Tracey crawled out of the shadows, he took a more active interest in my life and my well-being, and we grew very close. I was sad to see him suffer from failing health, and was honored to carry his body to its final resting place. I made a promise to him on my wedding day to take care of Tracey, and I feel that is the way I can best honor him from now on.

Escaping the Vortex

2010-03-22T07:51:00.000-07:00

I beat the final boss in FF XIII last night. After a harrowing 42+ hours, I may have finally achieved escape velocity. Don't get me wrong, I don't intend to stop playing entirely. The end of the story does not signify the end of the game as a whole. While it does mean a halt to any plot-related activities, it is just the beginning of the gauntlet of optional side-quests that await. This is the first time that this has been the case. In all other installments of the series, all optional quests had to be completed before attempting the final boss. This is the first time where the order has changed slightly. This could be bad, or could be good. I only know that my single motivating factor in laboring over this game before was to see the story through to its close. Now that that is completed, my level of intensity has diminished. There is no more ending to shoot for, and probably no more cutscenes. To continue now is to play for the sake of playing. I will do this, as the game is addictive enough to make me want to continue, though not with the same voracity with which I began.

Caught in dat vortex!

2010-03-12T09:05:00.001-08:00

As of 12:00 AM March 09, 2010, I have become trapped in the vortex that is Final Fantasy XIII. I have still maintained my duties to my job, my wife, and my hygiene, mind you, but little else during these past few days. As for a first impression, the 13th installment marks a huge departure from standard RPG fare, but it's one that may very well save the genre as attention spans get progressively shorter, and demands for a visually-engrossing experience grow larger. Hardcore fans of the series are, to put it bluntly, getting older. Now age has hardly detracted from ferocious gaming, especially in the land of RPGs. The average age of a World of Warcraft player is around 28 (source). However, aside from the select few that still grind away from the comforts of their parents' basement, most aging players have jobs, families, and lives to juggle along with their addiction to gaming. The previous RPG model of a game requiring a minimum 1 hour playtime to get from one savepoint to the next simply does not accomodate the majority of players. This also fails to take into account the imminent possibility of getting lost, organizing/upgrading equipment, or *gasp* DYING and having to restart from all the way back in Town X. FFXIII eliminates all of this, at least in the early stages of the game, and instead opts for a quicker pace: no random battles, a fairly linear path to explore, and the option to retry a battle rather than start over from your last save point (which, coincidentally, you probably only reached no more than 5 minutes ago). Also, in the traditional RPG experience, your last save could be in the middle of a desert on the world map, and coming back to the game could often entail trying to remember where it was you were supposed to be going. Every time I have fired up FFXIII so far, there has been a short primer giving a synopsis of the recent events of the story, and I have not been to an area yet that doesn't give me a clear cut direction as to where I am going next.

Ok, so I am can play the game and still lead a normal life, but is it FUN? Yes, but in a different kind of way. Previous RPGs demanded that you organize your attack strategy beforehand by selecting weapons, armor and magic that were best optimized for your group. To a degree, that is still the case, as preparation is still a necessity. However, a lot of decisions are not micromanaged as before, and instead you choose overall team strategies on the fly, mid-battle. This means there is no waiting while you scroll through a list to find the right spell, attack, or technique. Instead, battles have a certain "rhythm" about them, and each enemy has their own unique "cadence" to defeat effectively. Each battle is scored according to how quickly you dispatched your enemy, so finding the proper rhythm is of utmost importance. You only control your team leader, so individual attacks/spells aren't as important as they used to be, and battles can move at such a frenetic pace that seeing individual attacks can be close to impossible at times. But viewing the battle in more general terms--player A attacks, player B casts magic, player C heals--moves the battles along pretty quickly.

As for the visuals, this is what HD gaming is all about. With each new generation of FF games, the in-game play is equivalent to the CGI of the previous generation, with the current CGI being groundbreaking. And it is groundbreaking. Stunning visuals have come to be Square's hallmark, and they did not fail on this occasion. Anyone who has seen FFVII Advent Children is aware of what Square is capable of presenting, but that still makes the appearance of the game no less impressive. The score seems aptly suited to the game, but as of yet has not overly wowed me. But I'm only 14 hours in right now. There's plenty more to come...

Все окличут высший оригинал

2010-03-01T19:59:00.001-08:00

Please allow me to clear something up for all the friends, acquaintances, and would-be Russian dictators that follow my blog: 22 Days, the title of my last entry, was not a reference to the length of time I had quit smoking up to that point (which to that point had been 46), but was a countdown to the release of Final Fantasy XIII. I can barely contain myself. The countdown clock is at T-minus 8 days.

(And, for those keeping count, the no-smoking clock is currently at 60 days.)

22 days

2010-02-15T13:49:00.000-08:00

...and counting.

Oh yeah, check this out.

How to Quit Smoking

2010-01-22T12:09:00.001-08:00

When Tracey and I decided we weren't going to smoke anymore, I knew I had to be ready for a very challenging task. I had never tried to quit smoking before, and Tracey and I had both smoked for about 10 years. I was smoking at least a pack per day consistently for the past 9. During the year prior to making the decision to quit, there were three separate occassions when I began to feel that I should quit. These instances involved deep feelings of frustration about time and money wasted, fear of deteriorating health, and regret about ever starting in the first place. But, each of those times, I knew I wasn't ready to stop just yet. These experiences built upon each other though, and when I felt I should quit for the third time (around September), I knew I had to set a plan in motion. Coincidentally, there were rumblings coming from my new wife that she wanted to quit smoking also. The first step was to choose a date--something in the not-too-distant future. There had to be a period of build-up, and we had to allow sufficient time for the notion that we would no longer be smokers to set in. New Year's Day seemed like a good date. It was somewhat arbitrary, in that it was a date about 3-4 months away (at the time), and that felt like enough time to prepare.

So if you only have 3 months left before you quit smoking forever, how do you prepare? Well, we prepared by not changing our habits at all. There were no attempts to slowly ween ourselves, or cut our habit down to make the transition easier. However, there was a great deal of mental preparation. Ironic as it may sound, I was standing in the garage with a cigarette in my mouth thinking about how excited I would be when I was a non-smoker. It sounds counter-productive, but somehow I knew I was preparing myself properly. I thought about my high school years, when I was not only a non-smoker, but a RABID anti-smoking advocate. My mother had smoked my whole life, but during those times I would keep the door to my room closed, put a towel under the door--whatever it took to keep the smoke away. I would scream profanity at people I saw smoking cigarettes, and constantly profess my straight edge lifestyle (which also included no drinking, no drugs, etc). But then in college, Bob came over one night with a bottle of rum and a pack of cigarettes...

Anyway, why did I want to quit smoking? What was at the root of my decision? The most common reasons--health and money--only played a small role in the decision. What was more important to me was free time. I only have a very limited amount when I come home from work. Since Tracey and I didn't smoke in the house, I could not multitask while smoking. Meaning, if I was outside smoking a cigarette, that was all I could be doing. When I calculated it, I discovered that Tracey and I were wasting between 45 minutes to an hour EVERY night doing nothing but smoking cigarettes. With my personal time at a premium, why did I want to give it away for such a silly activity? Another reason was work. I had always been in the minority at my office, being one of only two smokers at Falcon, but I never smoked while at work anyway. But I did do a ton of smoking in my car, which isn't such a great idea when I am expected to take customers out to lunch. If my customers were smokers, they were indifferent to the smell, but if they were not, it was offensive. And again, the majority of my customers are non-smokers. So smoking could never be a positive factor while interacting with customers, it only caused indifference or negativity.

The last reason is a little harder to explain. I looked back at the time in my life when I did not smoke, and those were some of the best years of my life. There was a kind of simplicity about life that I wanted to have again. If I didn't smoke, it would be one less thing to worry about. One less unnecessary element in my life. This is a very appealing prospect, and probably one of the most motivating factors about quitting.

So how has the process been? To be honest, it is easier than I thought it would be. That isn't to say it has been easy, though. The first two days were STRANGE. My body was exhibiting some physiological responses to the lack of nicotine in my system, and I was NOT ready for it. There was serious nervousness, and I was jittery and very irritable. I really didn't feel like I was thinking clearly, and the shaking got kind of annoying after a while. But then, by day three, it stopped. I just woke up on Sunday morning and felt calm. I can see how easy it would be to fail in those first few days, but failure was never an option. This is why I felt my mental preparation was appropriate, for it allowed me to remain steadfast even in spite of some crazy withdrawl symptoms. Since then, there have been no symptoms, and I have only had a handful of cravings, even while drunk. I did have two dreams about smoking, back to back. I dreamed that I smoked a cigarette and felt incredibly guilty, like a big failure. I remember thinking that I was CERTAIN I could quit, and how could I let myself fail? To be fair, though, I haven't put myself in the MOST trying circumstances just yet. I haven't, say, gone to a bar with close friends who are smokers and hung out all night watching them smoke in front of me. And it is hard to underestimate how critical it has been that Tracey is quitting with me. This would be impossible to do without her, and I think there is a healthy spirit of competition going on here that helps keep both of us in line.

If you would have asked me a few years ago if I would ever be able to quit smoking, I might have given a half hearted response like "I'll quit eventually", but more than likely I would have laughed at you. I didn't think I had the willpower to really quit, especially when smoking is constantly hyped as the most difficult addiction to break. And at this point, 22 days in, I would hardly consider myself successful. It will take at least a year before I feel like I have really won. But I feel very confident that we will succeed with no relapse. The fact that we started on New Year's is merely coincidence. I don't like to think of it as a New Year's Resolution. I think of it more as a resolution made on New Year's. A subtle, but important distinction.

Hadoken!

2010-01-12T20:31:00.000-08:00

Tracey and I are at the end of our 12th day no longer smoking cigarettes. This has been a purely natural process--no gums, no patches, no sharp protuberances in our ears. The decision was made a few months back. It has been an interesting process so far. I have had to find other things to occupy my time.

Like this...

I have returned

2009-09-07T14:15:00.000-07:00

The wedding seems like so long ago. I remember feeling blissful and composed all day, and I wanted for everyone else to have a great experience. I hope this was the case. For those of you who missed some bits and pieces of our gift to our friends and family over the uproarious laughter and thunderous applause, I offer the Frank and Tracey Wedding Video

Japan is an amazing place, and we were lucky enough to enjoy a very urban, very typical Japanese experience during our 10 days there. Our guides, Sachi and Akio were very gracious and showed us a lot of everyday Japan, while letting us appease our fetishes of Japan in somewhat touristy ways. I chose to forego the Internet Cafe route and instead opt for complete disconnect from my life at home. For this reason I was not blogging my day by day thoughts as they happened. Instead, I kept a log of what I did each day and can only provide a somewhat chronological collection of impressions with a larger perspective.

Arriving at Kansai Airport was a little alienating. I tried to keep reminding myself that I spoke Japanese, but I still felt a bit paralyzed at first. Temples are a dime a dozen in Japan, but I found it surprising that even the smallest public shrine tucked in the middle of an alley has no graffiti, and hasn't been used as a toilet or a bed by a homeless person. There seems to be a huge amount of respect for sacred space, although I would qualify the majority of Japan as a non-religion-practicing country. So much of Osaka was underground. Entire networks of shopping built 1-3 floors under the earth. Japanese people are always eating and drinking, and most of it is carbohydrates, but there are hardly any fat people. Japanese TV is completely ridiculous, and entertaining regardless of your native language. A Gundam store gets me very excited, but beating random Japanese dude in Marvel vs. Capcom 2 makes me thrilled. This could quite be my crowning achievement. Typhoons can really fuck up your day. Japanese-style toilets are used better backwards. A Japanese baseball game is a much better fan experience, even though the level of play is like an American minor league team. I never, ever wanted to leave Japan. The 13 hour plane flight should be illegal.

A few videos:

Jacked!!

2009-07-31T08:53:00.001-07:00

Over the past two weeks or so, my luck hasn't been so good, especially in the automotive department. Coming back from a Def Leppard concert (RAWK!) with a customer last Monday, I blew a tire on the way home. Last night, walking back to the car with some customers after a baseball game, I found a brick sitting in my passenger seat and my Garmin GPS (which, as a birthday present, was less than 2 months old) and stereo face missing. Ok, why would you steal the faceplate of a stereo? The GPS makes sense, but was the stereo just to annoy me?

In some respects, it could be my fault. I took all my usual precautions: take the faceplate off the stereo, and put it in the glove compartment along with the GPS. I did, however, choose not to park in a lot, instead finding "free" parking on the street. I put quotes on free, because the $15 I could have spent on parking is a lot less than the $500+ that my "free" spot will ultimately cost me.

The funny thing is, there were some items in the car that could have been stolen, but weren't. My CD's were moved from their usual spot, so obviously the thief looked at them, but then decided either a) he couldn't get any money for them, or b) our tastes in music didn't quite match. Also, there were 4 bags of schwag from a marketing event thrown by my customer that were passed over. Sure, you need a JOB to have any use for a notepad, pen, and coffee mug, but there were some very nice, new Nike Cardinal hats in each bag. "Thieves" like Nike, don't they?

Anyway, as I grind out the last day of the week here at the office, I wait for the auto glass guy to come and replace my passenger window. They said they will vaccuum all the broken glass out of my car, which is good, because I only had a chance to sweep the big stuff off the seats last night.

Maybe I had this coming. I've stolen stuff before when I was younger: gum, baseball cards, hood ornaments. Maybe this is life's way of getting even.

Try to Pay Attention

2009-06-19T08:17:00.001-07:00

I am still trying to digest everything that happened during my retreat to Raft Island, WA. I heard, saw, and felt so much that I can not condense it into a single entry to post here. There are so many impressions of the experience that I would only bastardize by trying to put into words--the smell of the buildings, the taste of the food, the discomfort that initially accompanied periods of silence, the people I met, the sleepless nights. My aim when I started the course was "to foster discipline in my non-musical life". Put simply, I was not expecting to come away a better guitarist, but rather to find a path to become a more disciplined person. I am not a better guitarist. In fact, the week I spent there pointed out glaring faults in my playing. But then, it also pointed out glaring faults in my daily life, and this is actually what accounts for my success in achieving my aim.

I have found that trying to relay a detailed account of my retreat usually ends up boring people to tears. The problem is, this was an intensely personal experience. One that, I would say, is definitely not for everyone. Most people would lose patience waiting to hear Robert Fripp's response to a question in his oh-so-deliberate style. They might be freaked out by the RANDOM appearance of silence at a meal. They may scoff at the idea of "volitional relaxation", and activities that serve that aim. Even some of the attendees joked that we were nominees for the "cult of Guitar Craft". That's fine. For me, it was the perfect event. But in trying to explain how and why this is the case, something gets lost in translation. So, for the benefit of those who may already be losing interest, some bite-size nuggets that I brought away from the course:

"Before we can do something for 30 minutes, we should be able to do nothing for 30 minutes." This is much more difficult than it sounds.

I am much more tolerant of a vegetarian lifestyle than I imagined I would be, but nothing beats a thick, bloody steak.

"The gates of heaven open to persistence."

My cellphone went off during a "morning sitting"--the first time this has happened in the almost 25 years of Guitar Craft, apparently. I felt so humiliated, guilty, and ashamed, and could not escape that feeling.

When RF talks, his calm demeanor and quaint accent, coupled with his intensely thoughtful speech, makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

T'ai Chi is not for me.

On Wednesday night we were given 24 hours to write and perform an original song, not only as an entire group, but also in our arbitrarily selected groups. Our group of 25 beginners, known as the Aarhythmics, were in total lockstep and discharged a relatively easy piece with no trouble. My quartet, Too Romantic, attempted a very ambitious song. At least, ambitious for me. Sometimes, when you see the inherent value in something, you pursue it anyway, in spite of it being just outside the scope of your ability.

How do you get a group of 25 people to stay in time without a drummer or a metronome?

"A performance is actually a multiplicity of performances." For me, my performance was an embarrassment. For some, it was apparently superb (with 1 or 2 wrinkles). For others, it earned me the nickname "The Mad Arpeggiator".

In our defense, we thought the song had real merit. During rehearsals, one passer-by echoed a thought we had been sure of from the start. He said, "Your song makes me think of a shady guy walking down the streets of Morocco, stopping in at a bar to pick up a prostitute, and going to smuggle something." This was the image we felt it evoked also, but as this was too long of a title, we settled for The Beginning of the Middle of the End.

I still need more practice.

Two things from the performance that I will never forget: One, Robert Fripp looking at me with a thumbs up and a wide grin with one of his front teeth blacked out as I attempted to continue playing and not burst into laughter. The other, at the end of our second performance, when he stated "I like that. I LIKE that."

For an alternate perspective, check out Robert Fripp's blog from May 30 - June 6.

Tears, Cheers, and Souvenirs

2009-05-26T07:50:00.000-07:00

Poor Newcastle United. Relegated on an own goal from one of their better players, Damien Duff. With a drop into the Championship League will come the inevitable departure of Michael Owen, I am sure. But this will give talented players like Shola Ameobi a chance to develop into top tier stars. Better luck next season, Toons.

Cheers to Lyoto "The Dragon" Machida for knocking off Rashad Evans and becoming the new UFC Light Heavyweight Champion. For those who may have missed it, "Sugar" got dropped like a sackful of his namesake. Props to Machida for making karate almost cool again. If only he had won with the crane kick.

Lastly, Tracey and I wrapped up our wedding registries over the weekend. Even if most of it is dominated with things like dishes and napkins and stuff, I can't underestimate how much fun it is to put together a list of stuff you want people to buy for you. I realized early on in my life that Christmas and birthday lists were fanciful notions that would never come to fruition, so its high time I get to make a list of stuff that I might actually get. To raise the probability of this being so, I offer the following links:

Crate & Barrel

Bed Bath & Beyond

Amazon.com

I want a vacation.

2009-04-28T16:33:00.000-07:00

So I'm taking one.

I am no guitar whiz. I apply pressure to strings and sometimes, only sometimes, a clean, crisp sound comes out. I am very eager to communicate with myself and aim towards my goals before getting married, however, and am willing to use a guitar as a means of doing that. But not just any guitar...this guitar.

Some time away should offer a little perspective, and allow me to focus before the wedding. A break from work couldn't hurt either.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUCKK!!

2009-04-08T13:38:00.001-07:00

That's it. Somebody find me a baby, because I'm going to shoe it straight in the ass.

I fucking hate Chelsea FC!!

2009-04-08T12:05:00.000-07:00

I just needed to get that out. Fucking fat Frank Lampard with his fucking deflected goals off his fat fucking foot. All these fairweather fans make me sick too. At least cheer a side with somewhat of a legacy, like Man U, Arsenal, even Leeds for Chrissakes. Not some piece of crap club who at the beginning of the millenium were perennially beneath Newcastle United in the league tables. (Alas, poor Newcastle United. Will they escape relegation this year?)

If Chelsea cheat their way past Liverpool (the world's greatest club) in the Champions League today, I am starting a one man riot. I will flip a table, throw a chair, and punt a baby! I wanna see John Terry and his crew reduced to tears!!!

I'm just not that cool anymore.

2009-02-23T12:49:00.000-08:00

I used to be ahead of the curve. I used to be cutting edge. Now I'm just stale, and behind the times. Take the following examples...

There is a song by The Lonely Island called I'm On A Boat. I heard it on Sirius Radio last week and thought it was brilliant. I had no idea who sang it, but I was pretty sure it was a rap spoof. I tried to YouTube it, and found that it was Andy Samberg and his cronies. So I tried to start spreading the word about it, and was disheartened to hear that it was "old", and that everyone else seemed to already know about it.

Last week I also came upon a blog that I found infinitely entertaining. I was just about to start letting people know about it, so I started with my old pal Billy Kelly. I asked "You wanna know what my favorite blog is?". With no prompting, no clues, and no suggestion whatsoever, Billy responded "stuffwhitepeoplelike.com?". DRAT! Foiled again!

Hopefully I am cooler than anyone who reads this, lest I succumb to pity and laughing in my general direction.

Breathing (un)easy

2009-02-04T17:45:00.000-08:00

Now that I am free of the plague that wrecked the first few weeks of 2009, I have some pretty serious items on my plate. I have everyone has their calendars marked, because in just over six months Tracey and I are getting married. Since we are only going to do this once, we are planning for an event so precisely tuned to our personalities that it is unmistakeably "us" (and hopefully a grand ole time for everyone else). Is it naive to say I will only get married once? I am sure everyone plans to stay with the person they marry, but the overriding notion is that marriages do not endure changes in one or both of the participants. Marriages fail, second marriages fail, and barring any domestic abuse, reasons for divorce seem to gravitate around a disconnect that develops when one or the other changes their habits, lifestyle, etc. Tracey and I are very closely connected to each other, and communicate, compromise, and negotiate our way through both the great, and not so great days that invariably occur when you spend all your time with one person. We should be resistant to any future disconnect, right?

Tracey asked a very good question the other night: if somehow there was someone who could tell the future 100% accurately, and they knew for one reason or another that our marriage would not last, would we still get married? It's a very simple question, but answering it requires other various details. How does the marriage end? Are the obstacles preventable or avoidable? This raises the question of one or many possible futures. Unfortunately, there is no one who can tell the future (however many there are/could be). For Tracey and I, there is only one future. Our life's path will offer choices and decisions, but the path we take is the one and only path we will ever take.

I'm not trying to get mushy or anything, but these are the things I have begun to think about as the wedding approaches...and especially when all the prices start adding up!!

We still can't figure out where we want to go for a honeymoon, and I guess that's almost an afterthought when you're looking at photographers, caterers, florists, bakeries, etc. Her grandpa suggested Jamaica (odd that he would think we would enjoy that), and Tracey likes the idea of a road trip west. Both can be fun, and relatively inexpensive. The world is our oyster, but we're all clammed up.

/stupid puns

Is the coast clear?

2009-01-15T08:11:00.000-08:00

The sickness I reported in my previous blog did not subside until Tuesday evening, the 6th. The rest of that week I had mild cold symptoms, but was relieved the flu had passed. Evidently, though, it was not entirely gone. This past Monday morning my body apparently realized that the virus was still present, and made it's best attempts--for an arduous 48 hours--to expel the virus from my body by whatever means necessary. You know, it always makes me laugh when I watch other people throw up, and I had hoped to record one of my vomiting episodes to see if I had the same reaction watching myself. Unfortunately, the urgency of each wave of nausea precluded the possibility of getting my camera ready. I did giggle after the first time I did it. Not so much after the 4th.

So after two more days spent at home writhing in agony, I have returned to work and am waiting to see if I am truly better. Yesterday was my first foray into solid foods. So far, so good. Today is my first cup of coffee. Still taking that pretty slowly. I still have body aches everywhere, and feel weak and malnourished. The road to recovery is longer than I expected, I suppose.

[sic]

2009-01-05T11:56:00.000-08:00

Man do I feel miserable. Saturday I started feeling a cold coming on, and by Sunday I thought I had reached the worst of it. Unfortunately when I woke up this morning, I discovered I was wrong. It's been quite a while since I have felt this bad. My head hurts, my eyes hurt, my skin hurts, my HAIR hurts. This is not how I wanted to start 2009. Hopefully I will feel better tomorrow. Surely I can't feel any worse than I do today!

The Curious Case of Chuck Clark

2008-12-29T13:56:00.000-08:00

It's been a little while since I've posted, but I really haven't had too much to blog about. However, when the creative impulse fails, and my finely tuned powers of observation are, well, out of tune, it's good to know I have one subject I can always fall back on. Yes, it's time to dust off that dead horse yet again, and bring it out for yet another thrashing.

If Chuck were reading this right now, he might just have himself a good laugh at the fact that his absence continues to vex me. I still have not decided why I can't just drop it. It could be a lot of reasons. Guilt and remorse are the first that come to mind. But seriously, it's been about 5 years, can I really stay feeling guilty for that long?

The answer here is yes, I can. My friendship with Chuck took place at the height of my irresponsibility. Until that point, I was the only one who had to deal with the repercussions of my behavior. When I met Chuck, I was young, but he was younger. He was new to St. Louis and new to Webster University. He was, with all due respect, impressionable. Chuck would never have you believe this. In Chuck's mind, he has always been steadfast and opinionated, and could never have fallen prey to anyone else. In Chuck's defense, he is opinionated, and not easily duped. However, I never set out with any malicious intent, and never wanted to "dupe" anyone, yet damage was still done. So even with the best intentions and the strongest virtues, the possibility for hazard still exists.

Where does one lay the blame? Everywhere.

And I think this is what makes Chuck's betrayal so difficult. While I will be the first to admit my ignominy during this period, I have to also acknowledge Chuck's hand in all of this. We supported each other's behavior, in spite of our better judgements. The short version: we were two smart but irresponsible kids who made mistakes. Because of these mistakes, there was a tab to pay. I felt it was our duty to each other to pay this tab together, whereas Chuck obviously felt it was best to split the cost and go our separate ways. Neither is right or wrong, but they are diametrically opposed.

I still feel guilt because I have paid the tab for my transgressions to everyone but Chuck. When he left he made that impossible. So all I am left with is an unpaid bill. A permanent red mark that I can't make right. I have sent appeals and apologies, and they have gotten me nowhere. But trying to just let it all go has gotten me the same. What's a guy to do?

Bob Eulberg: The Man, The Myth, The Legend

2008-10-06T07:57:00.000-07:00

Saturday I threw a party to celebrate the twilight of bachelorhood for Bob Eulberg. What better way to kick off a party for "Krazee Bob" than by playing dodgeball on trampolines at Skyzone? I definitely underestimated the requisite stamina for this activity, as most everyone was wheezing by the end of our session. After dinner, I had reserved a room for the group at Koreana, a Japanese-style karaoke place in Chesterfield run by, oddly enough, Korean women. It was a great night, but now I have no voice. I'm almost sure it wasn't the yelling at Skyzone, or any of the singing I did at Koreana, but rather Bob's and my heartwarming rendition of Pantera's "This Love" that did my voice in. Oh well, at least I didn't get my ass bruised from a pool-cue wielding Korean woman like Bob. Yup...there's always that.

Returning to heartwarming music for a moment, I have a very un-Franklike recommendation to make. I tend to shy away from most folk music--and not just because I can't stand the smell of patchouli--like My Morning Jacket or Iron & Wine. It's generally pretty innocuous, but I never felt a connection to it at all. About a week ago I heard "White Winter Hymnal" on Sirius, and unbelievably thought I liked it. After hearing the rest of the Fleet Foxes' self-titled album, I was moved. Take it for what it's worth, but don't be put off by the fact that it's folk music, or more accurately, folk-pop. This Seattle-based crew has a great atmosphere about them, and it comes through on songs like "Blue Ridge Mountains" and "Quiet Houses". I was also unaware that I was not in the minority in my appreciation of this album, as the FF have become media darlings following the buzz surrounding their debut.

Some other quick picks:

TV On the Radio Dear Science
Beck Modern Guilt
M83 Saturdays=Youth
The Mars Volta The Bedlam in Goliath

Lastly, I would just like to thank the MMA gods for completely exposing Kimbo Slice Saturday night on CBS. It took only 14 seconds for Kimbo to lose in embarassing fashion to Seth Petruzelli, who took the fight last-minute after Ken Shamrock had to back out because of a cut on his eye or something. Too bad, too, because Shamrock could definitely use the confidence boost. I guess Kimbo was so busy preparing for an opponent over the age of 45 that he was taken off guard by Seth's mobility. The best part was Frank Shamrock trashing on his adopted brother for 'shaming the family name'. I really love that these two can't stand each other, and I would hope to see some kind of grudge match between them before Ken is too brain damaged to fight anymore.

Still no interwebs...

2008-09-26T08:53:00.000-07:00

Charter is FIRED!!

I have to say, prior to my move, I have never had any issues with Charter. I never had any service interruptions, and they were very easy to beat up on price. After their shoddy performance lately, however, I have written them off for good. What did they do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I had to schedule four different appointments for a technician to come out. I made the initial call requesting a service transfer on August 25. The first appointment on September 6 had to be rescheduled because, per the subcontractor, technicians had either walked off the job, or gotten into a car accident, and they were unable to come out. I rescheduled for the soonest available appointment afterwards, September 20 (WTF!). Keep in mind, it should be incredibly easy to send a technician and install cable TV, data, and voice in the same visit. Apparently that is not the case, as a Charter-employed telephone installer came out on the 18th. We walked the premises, and he assured me that the AT&T service drop was, in fact, a Charter demarc, and we could route service through that. This seemed highly unlikely to me, but hey, I don't work for Charter, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, this drop leads right into a finished basement, and I was not terribly fond of the idea of drilling through drywall. He assured me that when the cable/internet installer came on the 20th, that he could install everything. I also noted that I had an electrician coming on the 20th as well and we could discuss the cleanest way to route the cable through (or around) the house at that time. The technician scheduled for the 20th was due out by noon, and after five phone calls, arrived at around 3:00. All the while Bill, my electrician--who is a customer of mine who was going to do me a personal favor--was waiting for Charter to arrive so he could drive out from EDWARDSVILLE to talk cabling with him. After Charter missed the scheduled appointment time, I told Bill he could come some other time so I didn't ruin his Saturday. When Charter finally did arrive, I got a completely different story. Apparently the AT&T service drop was just that, and the Charter drop came from a point 40' in the air on the telephone pole. This, again, seemed highly unlikely, as, by electrical code, communication cable needs to be at least 6 feet from power cable if not run through conduit. But the cable guy (this time another subcontractor) told me this was indeed the case, and he didn't have the equipment or certification to climb that high and make the connection. He told me we would reschedule for Tuesday evening between 5-7. When he spoke to the dispatch office (and this is where it started getting really hairy) they said they were officially unable to send someone out until Wednesday between 1-5... you know, when most people are at WORK... but they would be sure to send someone out on Tuesday evening, off the books. I protested, saying Wednesday would be impossible, and that it had to be Tuesday evening, and she assured me it would happen. Of course, Tuesday rolled around, and when no one showed, I was left without a leg to stand on when I tried calling Charter. By their records, no one was scheduled to show until Wednesday, and my conversation with dispatch about "unofficially" sending someone out meant nothing. I quickly cancelled all services with Charter and signed up for U-Verse the next day. They are scheduled to come Saturday between 8-10AM, so hopefully they can get something done.

This is symptomatic of what has been standard fare during this initial "settling-in" period at the new house. Installing the washer and dryer took nearly 8 hours. Setting up the home theater took 3 days. It's enough to drive someone completely batshit crazy!!

Got a Box Full of Letters

2008-09-11T12:27:00.000-07:00

You know, moving in has been pretty difficult. Some of the easiest, most mundane tasks, somehow became much harder than they had to be. Mowing the lawn, hooking up a washer and dryer, getting cable installed, etc., were all the victims of mishaps, delays, mechanical failures, or other miniature disasters. These can really get a guy down. I mean, moving into a new house is supposed to be fun right? It's hard for the process to be all sunshine and rainbows with little things going wrong.

The process is also a sentimental one. I have lived in my fair share of domiciles during the course of my life, and moving into a new one helps to urge back memories of those other places, both geographically as well as the particular era of my life in which they took place. While reminiscing, I came upon a series of letters by Michael Ian Black about a past era of his life. This helped to cheer me up a bit. Give it a read HERE.

Suburban Me

2008-09-04T08:13:00.000-07:00

On January 1 of this year, I resolved to accomplish a few goals before the year's end. These could be called New Year's resolutions, but I tend to dislike the connotation associated with this term, as it usually implies desparation, short-term motivation, and ultimate failure. In fact, I had planned these goals years in advance, but each required a lengthy period of preparation before they could be executed.

The first was my proposal to Tracey. She and I have been together for almost nine years at this point, and I knew around mid-2006 that I should start preparing for a wedding soon. At that time, there were a few obstacles, namely the fact that neither her older sister, or even older female cousin, were both unmarried. I knew that in Tracey's mind, it was a natural progression that the older females of the family should be married first, even though she and I have had the longer relationship. Also at that time, I had only been at Falcon for around one year, and I knew I needed to develop my career a bit more before I would be capable of purchasing anything other than what Tracey and I have dubbed the "hoosier ring"--an engagement ring consisting of a miniscule diamond that probably cost less than $500. Say what you will about the commercialization of engagement, but if you aren't willing or able to sacrifice more than a few hundred dollars for your sweety, you probably aren't ready to get married. So as 2008 rolled around, and as Christa got married in Mexico this January, all eyes turned to me, and it was time to start planning an engagement. Fast-forward to August 1, and our trip to Nashville, TN. The trip was planned under the guise of a King Crimson concert, which we attended and thoroughly enjoyed. However, the night before the show, while out to dinner at the Sunset Grill, with Tracey's attention turned to a passing plate of savory goodness, I pulled the ring from my pocket and slipped it on. After a stunned look of disbelief, a few expletives, and a "yes of course" thrown in there, we had completed what can only be described as a very "Frank" proposal, and a very "Tracey" acceptance.

My second goal was the purchase of a home. This was not quite as meticulously planned as the engagement. I thought it would be only natural to find a house after we were engaged. We had gone looking a handful of times, and saw a few contenders, but nothing we were very serious about, until the weekend BEFORE the trip to Nashville, when we stumbled upon a completely renovated ranch in Creve Coeur, less than ten minutes from both of our places of employment. We were so thrilled with the property we had to make an offer. This complicated things for me slightly, as I was in posession of the ring at the time, and was planning the proposal for the following week, unbeknownst to Tracey of course. But when it rains it pours, and even the best laid plans can go amiss, and other assorted cliches. On Friday, August 29, we closed on the house, and are now the proud owners of our sweet crib.

In the meantime, aside from these momentous events, what else have I been doing? I have seen plenty of great concerts, including Radiohead at Riverport, Mars Volta at the Pageant, and In Flames in Louisville, KY. I saw WWE Raw and Smackdown live this past Sunday from the 4th row (watch for me Friday night at 7PM CST on your local CW station). After reaching 180 lbs in June, I have spent the past 3 months trimming back some of the unnecessary fat I gained during my bulk, and now sit comfortably at 165 lbs, 14% bf. I will switch gears to another bulk and slowly work my way towards my ultimate goal of 185 lbs, <12% bf, but all in good time. Also, I am stalking my old pal, Chuck, who it appears has also popped the question to his special lady. Congratulations, Chuck.... I mean, I wish eternal damnation on your cursed soul! Chuck really doesn't care for me, and everybody needs a nemesis, right?

So what is next, then, for your Humble Narrator? Why, a wedding of course. Though this date is hardly set in stone, Tracey and I are thinking that August 1, 2009, one year to the day from our engagement, is a suitable time to get married. And we are hosting an open house/engagement party on September 27, which all 2 of my loyal readers will undoubtedly receive an invitation to.

I forgot I had one of these!! (No I didn't)

2008-01-15T16:45:00.000-08:00

So we went on vacation. There are photos. Check the usual spot. I basically uploaded every picture I took, so I apologize for any goobers.

This blog has not really had much of my attention due to the holidays. I will attempt to make a better effort in the future.

The Windy City

2007-10-03T19:28:00.000-07:00

Tracey and I took a jaunt to Chicago over the weekend. We were both feeling claustrophobic both in the confines of our home and our workplaces. A respite, if ever so brief, was necessary to move forward with any semblance of sanity left. Friends Andy and Michelle were nice enough to be our welcoming party, and greet us in the lobby of our hotel, which by the way deserves a shameless plug: The Amalfi Hotel. With that out of the way, I can go on to show the aforementioned friends in varying stages of photogenecism.

Looking pensive.

A bit silly.

Something for the artsy crowd.

And of course, us.

Saturday was spent shopping and meandering around the downtown area, which we were staying in for the first time. It is remarkable how much of a difference this makes, compared to staying 30 minutes away in the suburbs. We were within walking distance of Millenium park, which if you have not seen it, is a very nice addition to the downtown area.

Who's that handsome fella?

Twin Traceys.

We also went to see a few art shows that were in the area, including one by Jen Stark. This artist was actually the inspiration for the trip from the beginning. Tracey and I were both amused by the meticulous use of construction paper. While visiting the shows, I came across what could be the most entertaining signage I have ever seen.

Clever name.

Have a closer look...

Sunday Tracey surprised me with a White Sox game. Though the Sox have had a less than stellar season, it was a good way to kick off the goal of seeing a game in every Major League ballpark.

A view through my eyes. Or rather, reflecting off of them.

All in all, it was a great trip. I am always less motivated for work than I feel I should be after a vacation, but I'll get back into the swing of things in a few days.

Is the weekend over already?

2007-09-03T18:51:00.000-07:00

To the joy or dismay of my many readers, any comments I would normally make here regarding MMA have been relocated to FFF's MMA Blog, for the fine people at MMATorch.com.

Peter has been back for two weeks, and I am glad to report he now has two jobs. Both are close and convenient, and the combined pay is more than sufficient right now. The idea of the military was raised, and I am honestly not sure if this is an option. I assume the acceptance guidelines of the armed forces may be somewhat lenient, but they surely exclude being convicted of a felony. This is still an option I have encouraged Peter to explore, as I do not know any answer definitively. If it is possible for him to join any branch of the military, it would be the best thing to ever happen to him. As dangerous as it is to be a United States soldier right now, he still has a better opportunity for success with the military than any other option. With job training, paid service and the GI Bill, he would be sitting pretty at the end of four years.

I hope everyone had a recuperative Labor Day weekend. Brace yourselves, the battery of winter holidays is coming...

The Family Business

2007-08-11T09:39:00.000-07:00

Peter gets out of jail on Thursday. It may not be common knowledge that he was even in jail, but he has been since November of last year. Without being overly incriminating, it can only be said that his life was headed down a bad path and it grew out of proportion. I'm not sure how I'll adapt to him being released, because I'm not sure I ever really adapted to him being in jail in the first place. It's a tumultuous mixture of guilt, spite, pity and sadness that I haven't been able to make sense of. He and my mother have always been very close, and she checks in on him regularly. I visit less frequently, and am never sure how to repond to him. I can only try to remain positive and keep his eye on his future. But once he is back out in the real world, he will have to start all over. And at this point, there is a certain distance I have to keep between us because I'm not entirely sure I trust him. This sounds like a horrible statement, and it probably is, but I can't think about it any other way. From a practical standpoint, it seems logical to ask for a short trial period to see how much he has really changed. I just can't convince myself otherwise.

This compounds an already frustrated family situation. My mother and I have only within the past few years been able to find a peaceful compromise in our relationship. Part of this compromise includes a necessary distance between us, a gap that neither seems willing to close. Peter knows I disapprove of what he has done, and I think he assumes that means I don't like him. I love and hate my brother at the same time. I find the most success in dealing with him when I concentrate on the reasons why I love him. In contemplating his current situation, this concentration prevents me from acknowledging the reality. This is the only family I have. My mother was an only child, and always avoided contact with any of her 12 aunts and uncles, or any of their children. I have plenty of second cousins that I don't know or keep in touch with. I have taken my circumstances for granted for most of my life, and am only now starting to realize what I percieve is a hole.

My best course seems to be optimism and preparedness. When I see Peter I will be wanting the best for him, and trying to support him. I want him to get a job, and stay busy, and keep himself out of trouble. I want him to establish good habits for living, and start a new life. Everything I offer him will be in service of these objectives. He has to show me he's thinking the same way before I can start to open myself up to him more.

You've got the touch!

2007-07-30T12:49:00.000-07:00

With the release and box-office success of the Transformers movie, it would seem the doppleganger robots have seen another rise in popularity. But how many people were there from the beginning? How many remember Bumblebee when he was a VW Beetle voiced by Casey Kasum, not a walking commercial for the new Chevy Camaro? How many, for that matter, remember the original Transformers movie? Sean Carless does, and he writes a sharp-witted review of it HERE. I highly encourage you to read this if you have seen the 1986 animated classic. You just might piss yourself.

Tracey and I went to the baseball game on Sunday with Gabe and his brother, Jake. Seeing yet another amazing come-from-behind victory made me wonder: when the hell did the CARDINALS--a team with perennially piss-poor relief pitching--suddenly get the second best bullpen in the league? Props to Kip Wells for, in spite of our win, getting teed off on by virtually every hitter in the Milwaukee batting order. As poorly as the Cardinals are playing this year, we still have a shot at the post-season. I can't wait to celebrate another dramatic pennant-clinch, followed by a public execution of Kip Wells and Anthony Reyes.

I was struck with genius the other night. I thought of the only combat sport that could unseat BOTH boxing AND the UFC. It would be called HVB, or Human Versus Beast. The possibilities are endless. Granted, when the organization is first starting up, it will be difficult to secure professional human combatants. But no matter, there are still plenty of willing gladiators out there. I mean, if the guy who made Bum Fights can get homeless guys to fight over a $20 crack rock, SURELY I can get them to fight wild animals if I up the ante. And I understand that the homeless are mistreated and malnourished, but I wouldn't let that stand in my way. A few home-cooked meals and a good night's rest would have our fighters feeling frisky enough to battle. That, and enough steroids to reanimate the corpse of Chris Benoit. But even with the prayers and the vitamins and the roids, would our humans stand a chance? Of course they would, because they would be given weapons that the audience chooses! Sure, one man against a hungry lion isn't fair, so let the audience decide what WOULD make it fair! A rifle, a grenade, or nunchucks made of link sausages. Just text your vote! Or how about 15 men against a rabid African elephant...with a tranquilizer gun strapped to its back?! The possibilities are endless. Sure, something like this would have both human and animal rights groups breathing down my neck, but just toss them in the arena, then they would see the light. (For the record, now is one of those times when I wish I was really good with Photoshop).

One time my brother beat up a retarded kid...

2007-07-13T16:36:00.000-07:00

with a giant plastic bat with a monster face on it. He chased him around the neighborhood, and caught up to him when he slipped on the church lawn. Then he wailed on him for 2 or 3 minutes before a neighbor came and broke them up. That was a story as random as these assorted observations...

Golf:
I suck at it. A golf outing with a customer last Friday meant 4 hours of complete humiliation which no one other than me noticed because we started drinking cocktails on the 3rd hole. But you can only laugh off a ground ball drive so many times before you realize that golf is based solely on good mechanics, and any efforts short of that will result in complete disaster. Luckily the two gentlemen I played with A) knew it was only the second time I had ever played golf, and B) were all-around good guys to begin with, so it really wasn't that big of a deal.

Transformers:
I had never been to the Moolah Shrine theater, and I thought I was missing out on a good movie-going experience, so I decided to see Transformers there. Bob, Tracey and I got our popcorn and sodas and sat down on a couch and waited for the movie to start. The credits began, but there was no sound. Then the screen went black. Then the movie was starting...but there was no sound. This went on for about fifteen minutes before someone from the theater said they would be attempting to fix the problem. They couldn't, and had to send home a full theater, angry and demanding refunds and free passes. They gave us a refund for our tickets, and a free pass for our concessions. We went to Kenrick to see it an hour later. After such a trying experience, what was did I think of the movie? It's difficult to say. It already scores points because its a movie about giant robots. More points since these robots happen to be Transformers. I didn't mind most of the body changes, but I did take issue with a tank being called Devastator, when EVERYBODY knows that it was the gestalt Decepticon formed by the Constructicons, and most definitely the coolest Transformer ever!!

I was even more enraged when I saw this ***SPOILER WARNING*** How dare you, Michael Bay. How dare you.

This is Jeff Chandler. He is a diagnosed schizophreniac. I knew Jeff in high school. He was a friend of Neal's and he was occasionally around when I hung out with Neal. He loves Pink Floyd. Neal gave him my number. He calls me ten times a day. Does anyone want to call him? You could talk like you've known him for years. He wouldn't notice. It would make him feel nice. This guy needs to feel nice.

Beating a dead horse.

2007-06-27T19:02:00.000-07:00

I think I have finally digested the news about Chris Benoit, the WWE Superstar that killed his wife and child. The act was deplorable. I feel deep sorrow for Nancy and Daniel Benoit. What I feel for Chris Benoit is pity. This is the only reasonable emotion to feel about the whole situation. After the countless interviews major news networks have held with past WWE wrestlers, asking them all the same questions, it should be obvious this is the only emotion these guys feel about Chris. For all intents and purposes, he was a good guy who never showed any sign of being capable of something like this. This makes Vince McMahon's choice to air a Benoit tribute show the day the bodies were discovered, even though it is alleged that they have some inkling that he could possibly be guilty of murder. When the WWE has two hours to decide how to fill a 3-hour time slot in the wake of this tragedy, they made a decent choice. As far as the influence of steroids and other drugs--the life of a wrestler is a hard one. The business is only now being shown culpable for the work environment their industry creates. But seriously, something has to happen to stop this.

I have to admit, though, this is pretty funny:
The Life and Times of Chris Benoit

Money well spent

2007-06-24T16:36:00.000-07:00

I have been bamboozled, and I had it coming. I'm embarrassed to tell this story, but here goes. Prior to going to the Tool concert, I was relistening to 10,000 Days, because I was not too fond of it on first listen. Bob was in the car as he played. He noted that what we were hearing was not Tool's new album, and not Tool at all. I thought the band sounded like Tool, but the album was not thriliing me, and the production values seemed shoddy. Well, the leaked album that I had downloaded was NOT 10,000 Days, and I had never pieced it together. Most of the material I heard at the Tool concert, I was hearing for the first time. This was not a problem. The problem was the fact that I had been burned for the first time pirating music. I thought more that night about why exactly I felt artists that I respected and enjoyed should be deprived of what is rightly theirs. I went out today and bought 10,000 Days and I felt better about myself. If I want to be a cheapskate and get music free, then whatever. But there has to be some exception to the rule--someone that makes spending $12 worthwhile.

Tool would have to be one exception. Their show Friday night was mesmerizing. The visual aspect of their performance is paramount, as it seems the images chosen were selected for no other reason than to make the band look cool playing in front of them. Mr. Keenan, as always, put forth a special degree of showmanship. It definitely ranks in the top 3.

Running Behind

2007-06-20T14:17:00.000-07:00

Part two of the three-part series, "Frank's Birthday Celebration", took place on Friday. Obviously I'm a little behind in reporting it, but give me a break, it's been a busy week. This particular installment was spent at the Family Arena in St. Charles for Genesis MMA, a local mixed martial arts promotion hosting an event. The event featured fighters from the St. Louis area, as well as a small population coming out of Iowa. Pat Miletich made an appearance, as well as Brad Imes and Din Thomas. What really stumped me, though, was the mediocre attendance. Why do people need big names or popular brands to watch fights? I had no idea who was fighting until 10 minutes before I walked into the arena, but it didn't make any difference to me. And there is definitely something to be said about watching two generally inexperienced fighters pitted against one another. The nervousness they feel is almost palpable. We were 30 feet from the cage, but it was almost as if you could see their heart rate increasing. Plus, it made some some ridiculous knockouts. If you don't believe me, check it out this Saturday on FSN.

Part Three will take place this Friday when I head down to Scottrade Center to see TOOL in concert. They have not played in St. Louis since October 19, 2001. Tricky was their opening act then. For two shows in Texas this year, Trey Gunn and Pat Mastelotto opened for them. Read about the experience through Trey's eyes here: http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=48966433&blogID=269080390&MyToken=6fc1ea78-aef2-4b01-a185-4acc12efab00

Testing, testing...

2007-06-18T19:51:00.000-07:00

I'm still cutting my teeth on my Treo, and exploring blogger's mobile offering. I just hope this works.

Gummin' it.

2007-06-08T15:57:00.000-07:00

I stopped maintaining my FitDay profile a few weeks back, out of sheer inconvenience. It would have been interesting to see how much I ate--or didn't eat--this week. After having two wisdom teeth pulled last Friday, it took 5 days just to eat solid foods, and I still don't know that I've gotten my appetite back. I don't know an exact number of calories, but I have lost 5 pounds in the past week. I did feel like some of the weight I gained was just fat, so now I can sort of start over again.

So who's ready to party??!!

Finally! A day off.

2007-05-25T06:49:00.000-07:00

I remember in January, after the smattering of days off that is the holiday season, when I thought ahead to the next day off I would get, and realized it wouldn't happen until May. It really doesn't seem like that long ago when I thought it would be an agonizing 5 months until Memorial Day. And yet, the holiday weekend begins (for me) in about 8 hours. Initially my plans for the weekend included cleaning up the yard and staining the deck. Apparently Mother Nature doesn't like those ideas, as she would rather dump rain all weekend long, or so the always-chipper Kent Erhardt has told me. At the very least I will be watching the much-hyped Chuck Liddell/Quinton Jackson fight on Saturday. Something tells me Jackson is not the same guy he was 2 years ago, but maybe there will be another stunning undercard battle to steal the show.

Today feels like a Friday.

2007-05-17T16:30:00.000-07:00

This has been a pretty crazy week. Tuesday was Laura and Sam's first open house as the Blue Nile Group, and they were offered more than their asking price the same day. Immediately afterwards was Tracey's cousin Jimmy's 22nd birthday, which we celebrated at Ameristar. Coincidentally, that night was also all you can eat crab leg night, which everyone but the girls seemed to enjoy. Yesterday Jimmy decided he was pumped about working out again and came over and we busted a helluva workout. That still doesn't really explain why I feel like it's Friday. It's not Friday. It's Thursday. That's almost Friday. I guess I can see the confusion.

Oh, remember Queen of Sheba, the Ethiopian restaraunt? They were voted #2 Ethiopian restaurant by the RFT. And there's nothing wrong with second best when it comes to Ethiopian food.

...I don't even know what that means.

I like rap.

2007-05-04T17:07:00.000-07:00

And so did a certain ex-roommate of mine. While sorting through a stack of CDs and listening to ubiquitously titled compilations like "Devil's Luggage", "St. Matthew's Children's Choir", and "Beats, Bumps, and Grooves", to discover what could possibly be on them, I came upon one entitled "Q95 Mix". It was pretty obvious to me what was on it, and I knew it was about 7 years old. I just wanted to hear some songs I hadn't heard in a while. I can flow right along with any rap song I know by heart, a talent matched only by Bob Eulberg and Chuck Clark. Hearing songs like "Everybody Get Your Roll On" and "Pimp Hard" I couldn't help but think back to Chuck's red Escort, Gekigangar hanging from the rearview mirror, rapping along on our way to school.

I started thinking about Chuck, and how much the Chuck Saga upsets me. I felt it was absolutely tragic that I had lost what I thought was a really close friend of mine. We were only friends for about 3 years before he decided he had had enough and stormed out of our apartment with a big-screen television that wasn't his. But those three years were important to me in a lot of ways, even if they weren't necessarily my best years. I will not take any credit away from Chuck, and the fact that I was irresponsible. If the cohabitation was unbearable, that would be fine. We could move into separate apartments, and my problems are no longer his problems. But I feel like Chuck just snapped and had some kind of complete breakdown and had to shut himself off from me. Why exactly, or how it could have been prevented is still pretty cloudy to me. I just don't understand. I can only hope he is living his dream right now, in a land filled with giant robots, rap music, and anime girls getting tentacle-raped. Not like he's dead and in heaven, but I don't know where he is, and if I saw him again, he would probably just pretend like he didn't see me. So it's like he's dead. CHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!! I'm sorry Miss Nanako. It looks like I won't be able to take you to the beach like I promised.

Have you seen The Landlord??

2007-04-25T19:20:00.000-07:00

Because apparently everyone else has. Check it out here: The Landlord

I have updated my Public Photos with some sweet pics from Lockdown. These pictures are courtesy of TNA's website.Tracey mentioned that those photos may be copyrighted, but so is my face, and it's in all of them. See if you can find me in each one.

Laura's wedding has come and gone. I have to congratulate all involved for putting on a very smooth production, even if I knew that it wasn't really so smooth. I guess that's the point of breaking your back to plan a wedding--to give the appearance of a seamless operation.

Because of the wedding, I missed the first broadcast of UFC 70. I caught it Monday, however, and I have to say I thought I could not have been more shocked at GSP's loss. I guess there is no such thing as a sure thing in MMA. Watching CroCop's fight, something seemed different. Actually, both of his fights in the UFC have been sub-par. I know the octagon is bigger than the ring, and there are no right angles. I think this affected CroCop, as he has shown a lack of lateral movement in his last two outings. And watch the replay of that headshot--he was caught flat-footed with his hands down. How often have you EVER seen him in such a pose?? He has four fights left in his contract. Let's hope he can figure out whatever has been vexing him.

Finally, I have lost yet another workout partner, and am now accepting applications. I must say, though, my most recent partner lasted much longer than my first. Both punked out for the same reason though. This has left me somewhat unmotivated. I have been riding a bike (on a pretty sweet trainer I bought from Craigslist), but haven't lifted weights in 2 weeks. Am I starting to punk out too??

Wrestling Fever Continues...

2007-04-18T20:12:00.000-07:00

I went to see TNA Lockdown at the Family Arena on Sunday with Neal. I haven't been to a wrestling show in a long time, and I've never sat in the first row for a larger event (local promotions don't count). I have to say the experience is worth the (somewhat hefty) price of admission. The beauty of going to local promotions is sitting in a chair 5' away from the wrestler, and knowing that he can hear everything you say. This was the same kind of thing, except on a much larger scale. The wrestling was good, and there was more than enough senseless bloody violence to keep me entertained, even if some of the gimmicks were a bit much. (An "electrified steel cage", for instance). I can almost make out my garbled face in this video (at about 2:47--I'm wearing a black jacket next to Neal in the Cardinals T-shirt): TNA LOCKDOWN

In other arena-related news, TOOL will be coming to town on June 22. I saw them the last time they came to St. Louis. They did a short leg of the tour co-headlining with King Crimson, and though that would certainly have been a 3-hour wet dream for me, the two bands broke off before stopping in our lovely city. I have seen both bands live, and TOOL's concert was the only time an entire 30000 seat arena was entirely captivated with a performace. I expect more of the same this time around. Tickets are pretty cheap, and you can get 'em here: TOOL at Scottrade Center

Finally, Tracey's sister Laura gets married this Saturday. This is an event that has been the focus of Tracey's life for the past few months, and having heard constant arguments over dresses and food and seating arrangements, I'll be happy when the damn thing is over and the happy couple are on their honeymoon and life can go back to normal. Cheers!

And the winner is...Jesus by lay and pray in Rd. 2!

2007-04-09T13:47:00.000-07:00

Another UFC event, another series of shocking upsets. George St. Pierre--someone I thought was the future of the UFC--lost his Welterweight title in his first defense to Matt Serra. I was watching the fight with a customer at Buffalo Wild Wings in Edwardsville, and the place just ERUPTED when GSP got caught with a left hook. George had all the makings of a great champion: he was humble, earnest, fast as HELL, and charismatic. Now we have a shrimp with a Jersey accent who talks trash about EVERYONE. Prior to this there was another upset on the card. Diego "Don't Call Me Dirty" Sanchez defended his unbeaten record against Josh "Gotta Be At Least Half Black" Koscheck. The shock here was not that Sanchez lost, as Koscheck is a good fighter in his own right. What I could not believe was how ATROCIOUS the quality of the fight was. Both fighters basically spent 15 minutes minutes feeling each other out. Goldie and Rogan tried to play it off during the course of the match, but there was no denying that it was one of the most disappointing fights in UFC history. The best fight of the night would have to go to the lightweights. This was 15 minutes of pure intensity, with the fighters swinging until they had no strength left in their arms, and technique went out the window.

Oh, and good to see our World Champion Cardinals could finally string a few wins together. It's impossible to pin our losses on any one player, but with a weak outfield, questionable bullpen, and a few early defensive lapses, our team has more holes than a bisexual orgy.

Finally, the Easter holiday reminded me of something. I LOVE old Jesus movies. King of Kings, The Greatest Story Ever Told, all that. But my favorite, by far, is the 1970-something miniseries Jesus of Nazareth. It really paints a vivid picture of life in Jesus' time, and with an all-star cast to boot! I mean, James Earl Jones as one of the three wise men (Balthazar I think). Can you even picture it?
Balthazar: "Jesus, I am your father"
Joseph: "You lying bitch! I knew you weren't a virgin!"

Casualties of modern living

2007-03-26T17:37:00.000-07:00

Another childhood hero bites the dust. This is old news, but still absolutely appalling to me. Let me preface what I am about to offer by saying that A) I am notorious for saying outrageous things for shock value, and B) I have always known that Bobby Fischer was anti-Semitic, but seriously. This doesn't even make sense.
http://www.samsloan.com/bobby.htm

A former US hero is reduced to a babbling maniac. Bobby Fischer not only rejoiced over the events of 9/11, but blamed the Jews for...well I'm not even sure what, but he certainly isn't very happy with them. When I checked further into Sam Sloan's site, I found another interesting tidbit.
http://www.samsloan.com/moushey.htm

Bill Moushey was my chess coach from 1992-1995. Here was another eccentric man who really liked to stir the pot. I knew he vehemently hated many of the St. Louis players, and was a drill sergeant of a tournament organizer. He was sitting in a hospital bed recovering from a quadruple bypass surgery in 1994 when I won the state K-8 championships, and I still have the newspaper clipping telling the oh-so-touching story. Bill Moushey was anything but touching. He was bitter, spiteful, and constantly complaining about something. But if you got on his good side, he was the most wonderful man you could ever know. Since I was a broke little punk, he let me enter his tournaments for half of the usual entry fee (just as long as he got a cut of the prize money). When I changed to Alexei Zaitsev as my trainer and coach, I felt a little sad leaving Bill. I knew I would see him at tournaments, and he was proud of what I accomplished after I left him. I heard he had died a few months after it happened, as I wasn't really in the scene anymore at that point. Glad to know someone else appreciates what he did.

Cover Face with Hand. Shake Head.

2007-03-21T05:31:00.000-07:00

As if the state of professional wrestling wasn't lamentable enough, now there is (another) steroid scandal to pin on the sport.
http://msn.foxsports.com/other/story/6550426?MSNHPHMA
Admittedly, pro wrestlers are not the only athletes being fingered. Baseball players, boxers, and bodybuilders are also linked. My initial reaction is, "Who cares?" I mean, this is pro wrestling, and no one's chances of winning are dependent on their strength and size. But then I can't help but remember guys like Eddie Guerrero, who died from "heart problems" undoubtedly caused by steroid abuse. The current state of the sport thrives on superhuman physiques, and if all wrestlers were required to train 100% naturally, I think wrestling would fall apart. This isn't 1965, when beer bellied men in tights can play to the crowd. Take Randy Orton--St. Louis native and 3rd generation wrestler for example.

Pretty impressive, huh? I don't know why there would be any doubt this guy trains naturally. I mean, just look at his father, "Cowboy" Bob Orton.

This is obviously a case of pure genetics attributing to Randy's musculature. I mean, if you chiseled away the 30 lbs of mass from Bob's gut, they would look exactly alike. But seriously, no one wants to see guys like this anymore. Wrestling can't survive on out-of-shape guys punching and kicking all night. So, let the wrestlers take steroids. I mean, it isn't messing with their heads or anything, right?

I'd Shave My Head Too if I Were Entering Rehab

2007-02-23T09:20:00.000-08:00

The title is pretty irrelevant to the majority of this post, but I must say, I find nothing wrong with Britney's actions. True, maybe she should have realized how off-center she was PRIOR to having children, but sometimes these things happen out of order. I wish the media would lay off, though. Let her make a drastic change in her appearance, go to rehab, clean herself up, and take care of her kids. What's so wrong with that?

And now for something completely different...

It's been two weeks since I finished Final Fantasy XII. In terms of the battle engine, I'd say it was one of the best RPG's I've ever played. I can only think of one game more that was more addictive. Like life, one of the most important--and unavoidable--parts of an RPG is the "grind". This entails walking around, usually back and forth between the same areas, fighting the same monsters to gain experience, currency, abilities, etc. Sounds boring, right? Usually it is. A game really stands out when it makes even this monotonous act fun. In moving away from the typical turn-based battles used in every previous Final Fantasy, the current installment removes much of the repetition of grinding. In fact, by tweaking the Gambit system, I can essentially run on auto-pilot. By setting up a series of conditional actions, I can walk into a room, set the controller down, and let the CPU do the work for me, thereby making it the only RPG I have ever gained a level in while asleep.

I was back at the old U. High on Sunday in support of a family friend playing in "Hello, Dolly". I'm not going to lie, with the exception of a select few (I can think of two off hand), I don't like musicals. The point was not to see--or necessarily even enjoy--the show, but rather to merely be present for the work of a valued acquaintance. Sure, Joe is only a sophomore, so he had no leading role, but if I counted correctly he played 5 separate parts in the show. That must mean something, right? It was good to see the school again, though for some reason when I recall memories of high school, I imagine it pre-theater, so I almost forgot the theater was there. A few new improvements have been made since I graduated, but not much else has changed. A lot of familiar faces, including fellow graduate from my class, Matt Stewart, who now teaches Theology, as well as chorus. I said hi to Matt and went through the usual pleasantries. For someone who I feel was a friend in high school, though, he was rather abrupt. Even if it was a lie, I expected a "We should grab a drink or something sometime".

Lastly, for anyone who received the e-mail regarding Fantasy Feeder, I apologize. It was pretty disgusting, but I couldn't help but wonder what would drive people to this lifestyle? In case you were immediately put off and didn't read any forums, the gist is they get sexual gratification in feeding or being fed. The point is to get fatter and fatter, with the ultimate goal being immobilization. These people are going to live off our tax money just so they can sit around in a hospital bed getting even more grotesquely obese. That just makes me sick...

Wrasslin'

2007-02-08T16:10:00.000-08:00

I forgot about wrestling. You know, professional wrestling. The one with pyrotechnics. I am pretty sure this was on purpose. I loved wrestling as a kid, and up until I was around 20. Then things started getting wacky. Basically when the Monday Night Wars ended and WWF owned the empire, I lost interest. Of course I had known wrestling was fake for a long time, but I was more interested in the spectacle. I enjoyed watching grown men (and women) take part in a very staged, and yet very dangerous, battle. When I look at the lives of a lot of wrestlers I loved growing up, it's not very encouraging. I feel the business turns them into 'carnies', and the life they lead is hardly a stable one, and it takes its toll of many.

Take the Ultimate Warrior for example.

This guy didn't have wrestling "skill", per se. He was more of a one-man pep rally. He would rush the ring to guitar-driven music, shake the ropes, and raise his arms to his 'warriors'. He legally changed his name to WARRIOR so he could own the rights to the entire image and idea of the Ultimate Warrior. Oh yeah, and he hates gays...

http://www.ultimatewarrior.com

I know you're resisting, but just read one entry from his blog, and prepare to see the ropes of decency shaken violently.

Flipped.
His.
Lid.

But his story is actually positive compared to a lot of wrestlers fates. Far too many are dead: Big Boss Man, Owen Hart, Bam Bam Bigelow, Kerry Von Erich, Miss Elizabeth, Brian Pillman, Yokozuna, and more I'm forgetting. Others are hooked on drugs, or clinging desparately to the notoriety of their in-ring persona to make a living.

And where are the rest? Still wrestling. Jesus, plenty of OLD-ASS wrestlers are still around. The Undertaker, Ric Flair, Sting. These guys have been around for ages. They are the Diedre Halls and Susan Luccis of wrestling. And it really is a male soap opera. All the signs are there. Constant changes in alignment, bouts of amnesia, torn friendships and relationships. There just aren't as many pregnancies.

How do I know all this? Spend an hour on wikipedia looking at wrestling, and be prepared to get sucked in. Well, if you care at all about that sort of thing. Oh, and my favorite wrestler of all time? Mick Foley, of course! OUCHOUCH!

2007-01-26T19:52:00.000-08:00

I can't help but think that a perfect vacation has been tainted immediately upon my return. Warm days in Mexico were suddenly replaced with weather so (reportedly) nasty that flights were cancelled. This was solved by a redirect from Dallas to Phoenix, and a 24 hours layover. As soon as my feet touched American soil, and I regained use of my cell phone, I was left with another heartbreaking fact--my grandmother had died while I was away, and with no way to contact me, a funeral was held in my absence. Coming from a small family, when there is a death in the immediate family, it is an important loss. I had visited my grandmother only two days before we left, and she was in bad shape. Granted, she was 95 years old and had been suffering from Alzheimer's for nearly 8 years, but she was always in good physical condition. When I saw her last, she could barely lift her head, and would not speak. She sat limp in her wheelchair slowly spitting out her lunch. This is a far cry from the vivacious woman she had always been before--singing, dancing, and talking nonsense. She passed in her sleep with no pain, and it seems a fitting end for someone who had lived such a gentle life. Now, over two weeks after the fact, I can rest at ease that she is gone, but the entire experience is a blank. Perhaps it will be easier to celebrate her life without having been so involved in her death.

After limping away from a rough first-week-back, I can appreciate the trip a little more. The house was wide open, and right on the beach. The weather was immaculate, and ten days away from work was a giant, 240 hour sigh of relief.

I saw Children of Men last weekend, and was thoroughly pleased. The idea of a post-apocalyptic near-future is very appealing to me, and I tend to think it is a good start for a film (though not always). I don't see movies in theaters often, but this was worth the ever-inflating price of admission. I am willing to wait for Pan's Labirynth, Notes on a Scandal, and Rocky Balboa.

What in the wide, wide world of sports izzuh goin on here?

2007-01-01T18:47:00.000-08:00

Sitting down at Hooter's and watching the fight Saturday was not nearly as easy as it has ever been before. At any of the venues tried, none had a seat to offer. Brendan was nice enough to let us watch it at his place. I can't say the Ortiz-Liddell outcome was much of a surprise. The biggest shock was Forrest Griffin's pouting and failed ring exit. Zuffa (pronounced "zoo fa") is probably giddy as they have gained some real ground in the mainstream media.

New Year's Eve was a quiet night at home with Tracey. Normally that would seem like a pretty bad way to ring in the new year. We chose instead to have a prolonged celebration beginning Wednesday, when we spend the next 10 days in Cabo San Lucas. Oh, there will be pictures.

So Happy New Year to all, and we'll catch you on the flipside.

The State

2006-12-29T09:09:00.000-08:00

The first season of MTV's "The State" is now available on iTunes. I don't ever actually pay for media, but for those of you that do, head over and check it out. If the episodes are popular enough, MTV will release a DVD. Also, see your way to www.the-state.com and sign a petition to release the DVDs. This really was the greatest sketch comedy series ever. It ran for 3 glorious seasons on MTV before a botched CBS deal screwed the whole thing.

Ghosts of Christmas Past

2006-12-26T10:25:00.000-08:00

I sat on the deck yesterday, pondering Christmas for a while. The wind was blustery, the sky was grey, but somehow it seemed more like early October than late December. Christmas was always anti-climactic for me. Even as a child, I never really got the presents I wanted, and I never expected otherwise. As a child, however, there was always the atmosphere of Christmas that you could not avoid. I was more aware of the Christmas season, as school would be drawing to a close for winter break, decorations were everywhere, and discussion among peers usually revolved around Christmas. As an adult, this atmosphere is entirely absent. Sure, we put up a tree and some lights this year, and it's not like I didn't know Christmas was coming, but there was no "mood" to accompany this. There was no real sense of anticipation as there had been before. Honestly the greatest joy I had this Christmas was giving my mother her gifts.

During the evening I finally decided to watch "The Secret" DVD that John gave me about 3 months ago. I had a general idea of the premise going in, but here is an overview:

The most powerful natural law in the universe is the law of attraction.
This law extends to every facet of existence, down to a person's thoughts.
Thoughts, and their associated emotions, manifest themselves into our reality by attracting their objects into our lives.
By focusing on positive thoughts and dreams, we can bring these items to life for ourselves. Conversely, by concentrating on what we do not want, we tend to draw these very things closer to us.

I agree with the statements made by the authors and various interviewees presented in the film. This agreement is conditional, however. I have my reservations about a few of the finer points.
1. I believe few people have sufficiently firm notions of what they really want.
2. The statements made by the film are oversimplified. One must not simply think about what they want, but hold it in mind constantly, and act in accordance with it.
3. I believe few people are capable of #2.
4. The method given in the film is largely pointing towards gaining wealth and romance. In fact, many of the teachers interviewed in the film are wealth strategists or financial planners (with the exception of a few quantam physicists.) This, in my mind, skews what is a very valid starting point, reducing it to the level of a "Get Rich Now" scheme or other snake oils.

I can see John's attraction to the concept. Sales requires constant motivation and positive thinking. If you get into a slump and become discouraged, your workrate suffers, and your productivity slips. Fair enough, but I think the concept is much larger than meeting financial goals. A few points I wholeheartely endorse:
1. You can not undermine the power of positive thinking.
2. Learning to act in accordance with specific goals has two major benefits: first, that you are able to crystallize goals in your mind, rather than drift around with vague notions of what you want in life, and second, that you learn to frame your desires positively. It is much more effective to think "I want X" rather than "I don't want Y".
3. Visualizing and internalising true desires, from the mundane to the extravagant, is a powerful experience. Consider this exercise--look at the backs of your hands. Now close your eyes, and as you close them, imagine your hands wrapping around the steering wheel of your dream car. Live in this moment, and let the experience be vivid. Feel the texture of the steering wheel, and observe the interior of the car. Feel the thrust of the engine as you accelerate. For that moment, the imagined experience is as gratifying as the real one. Your body produces the same dopamine response, and your get the same "charge" as if you were doing it for real. If you were to determined to make this feeling a reality, the power of this exercise, when repeated and centered in your life, can maintain your persistence.

Hot Pocket

2006-12-21T08:10:00.001-08:00


Speaking of Hot Pockets...

Not too long ago

2006-12-21T07:58:00.000-08:00

There was a time when I didn't eat all that much. These days were marked by depression and solitude, but I didn't know it. I just assumed I never had an appetite. There would be days when my entire diet consisted of soda and maybe a Hot Pocket. (See video to find out how that turned out). When I decided to gain weight, I knew I needed to eat more, but I wasn't exactly sure how much more. Now I am. http://www.johnberardi.com/updates/july262002/na_masscalculator.htm

This is quite a daunting task. Just to break even, I need to be eating around 3300 calories a day. That seems exorbitant, for me at least. Then I compiled numbers for my training partner, Jimmy, who tips the scales at a massive 265 lbs. In order to get up to that weight, he would have been eating over 5000 calories a day for the past 5 years! This is an extreme example, and not necessarily in line with my goals. But eating big CAN be done. Now eating RIGHT and eating big, well...

Fucking MySpace

2006-12-14T10:12:00.000-08:00

Why does MySpace have to be a fun and convenient way to reconnect with old acquaintances? And why do I, then, feel compelled to "decorate" my page, as if friends seeing a barren site is some kind of reflection on my value as a human being? Why is it so poorly coded? Why is it rife with SPAM? Why have my last 10 friend requests been from a girl with the same picture but 10 different names? And what if I don't want to be friends with "Tom"? I hardly even know him! And I certainly don't like that smug look he's got on his face--peering over his shoulder with that shit-eating smirk. Fuck you, Tom. And fuck you, MySpace.

I had a geriatric moment Monday evening that really concerned me. I was putting clean sheets on the bed, and turned to my left to tuck in a corner, when a sharp pain shot down my spine and concentrated itself about 3" above my right butt cheek. It wasn't a mild discomfort, but rather a crippling ache that sent me to the floor in a heap. As I recovered, I realized my mobility had been severely compromised. I could not bent at my wait in any direction without a recurrence of the pain. Of course, I spent the entire next day checking WebMD.com, and other bodybuilding sites to determine the cause and best course of action. Was I squatting incorrectly, do I not stretch enough, do I have a herniated disc? My worries were brought to rest by late afternoon Tuesday when I could finally bend over to tie my shoes. Today there is no pain, but stiffness, like someone strapped a board to my back. While cause remains inconclusive, it is certain this feeling will be back again without proper rehabilitation. Hence, no weight training with back stabilizers this week. I'll stick to some bagwork and hope I am ready by next week.

10! 10 Grams of Protein! Ah, ah, ah!

2006-12-11T07:32:00.000-08:00

If the Count was smart, he'd be counting calories instead of bats. In all the years I have seen him counting, he rarely gets into two-digit numbers. If he really loves counting, he would go crazy over calories, which get into four-digit numbers. Besides, when you really start micromanaging everything you put in your body, it is easy to be amazed. I began tracking calories and macronutrients (protein, fat, and carbs) last Monday, and I'm already beginning to see trends in my eating habits. For example, any eating plan I am on completely goes to shit on weekends. In my attempt to bulk up, I should be adding 500-1000 calories per day. During the week, when I eat fast food for lunch, this is easy. For Saturday and Sunday I ate a combined 3829 calories, which is less than the 3845 I ate Thursday alone. In the future I may make the chart publicly available, just to give folks a sense of what goes into their own bodies every day.

I ate at a restaurant called "Queen of Sheba" last night with T, her sister Laura, and her fiance Sam. Sam is from Ethiopia/Eritrea, so this was a chance to taste authentic East African cuisine. The place just opened a few weeks ago, and from the look of it, will soon become a new hangout for every East African in St. Louis. I do like the idea of eating with your hands. It's just so...Last Supper.

I woke up with the power out

2006-12-06T09:38:00.000-08:00

But then, so did a lot of people. I was without power for a total of four days. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, and not nearly as bad as it was for others. I suppose I was fortunate.

It couldn't last forever

2006-11-28T12:20:00.000-08:00

I finally lost my webspace at UMSL. It only took them 2 years to realize it. Good for you, UMSL!

It will take me some time to adjust to the new layout, but this is where I am. Fantastic.