so many light years to go

I know every family has their own Christmas traditions, but it seems like my family's are a bit more rigid than some. From Christmas Eve on, what we eat, what we do, where we go, where we sleep, what time we wake up, the order in which we open presents have all been cemented by years of repetition.

Our New Year's Eve traditions are far less set in stone because, well, we don't have any. Growing up celebrating New Year's consisting of staying up till midnight and banging pots and pans. Which is cool. But far less exciting than what goes on at Christmas.

How many years does it take for something to become tradition?

Crystal Pier, San Diego, California, January 1, 2011

I spent the beginning of last year in San Diego with some dear friends, Jackie, Deena and Chip, and Afton. Back in September or October, Chip and Deena and I talked about making a repeat trip for New Year's 2012. Sadly, Afton and Jackie weren't as enthused about creating this annual tradition but Chip and Deena were.

This year, instead of heading straight to San Diego -- where Deena's folks have a condo -- we decided to make a New Year's Eve pit stop at the happiest place on earth.

Disneyland, Anaheim, California, January 1, 2012. Note the empty medical stretcher in the background.

I hadn't been to Disneyland since 2004 so it was great to be back, even if the crowds were among the most dense I've seen anywhere.

Sunday was quite a lazy day but I didn't mind as it gave me time to start rereading one my favorite books.

I don't understand why more people don't love this book as much as I do.

Monday before heading back we had breakfast on the beach, did some shopping and spent a bit of time downtown. Here I am at the Ghirardelli shop enjoying an overpriced butterscotch sundae:

Slowly eating my way to diabetes.

I suppose time will tell whether or not this trip becomes an annual New Year's tradition. I certainly won't mind if it does as I have yet to have a bad time in Southern California.

David and Return of the Jedi

Only three people have ever beaten me at Star Wars Trivial Pursuit: my brother Matt, of course, my friend Joby, and most recently, David here. Though in my defense, when I played David a few weeks ago it was an extremely close game: he won only after I answered my final question incorrectly, and had I gone with my gut feeling I would've got that question right (life lesson here?). In the end though, David is the kind of guy I don't mind losing to.

Notes:
Whoa, what would Star Wars be like without John Williams' masterful score? I don't even want to think about it. Return of the Jedi includes some of my favorite Star Wars compositions, like "Luke and Leia" and "The Death of Darth Vader". John Williams has set the gold standard for fantasy and adventure movie soundtracks -- something he did well before Return of the Jedi.

Brian and IV

To be honest, it'd be a bit of a stretch to say that Brian and I have bonded over this album. No, our friendship was forged from a different fire, a literal fire, one that launched model rockets hundreds of feet into the air. A fire that could have gotten us in trouble with the law. Yes, I'm making vague, confusing allusions to the time that we launched model rockets at the local high school baseball field late at night (read all about it here, fourth paragraph in).

In addition to a penchant for model rocketry, Brian and I also share similar professions. We're both accountants, although our respective functions as such differ greatly.

Notes:
I think IV by Led Zeppelin was the first classic rock album I owned on CD (I didn't pick it up on vinyl until 2008). It was a sort of chicken-egg scenario: I either bought that album because I was learning how to play "Stairway to Heaven" (as apparently every budding guitarist should), or I was learning "Stairway to Heaven" because I bought the album. I was 15 or 16 at the time so I don't recall the exact circumstances.

It quickly became one of my favorite classic rock albums and remains one to this day.

Kiana and Teaser and the Firecat

While it's not a surprising thing to like Cat Stevens (because what's not to like?), I wasn't aware of Kiana's affinity for the guy until she grabbed this record off my shelf for this photo. The fact that I didn't know this about her is quite indicative of her personality -- not because she's an overly private person, not because she's too shy to talk about herself, but because she is always so interested in others, perhaps at the expense of sharing things about herself. Some people are always talking about themselves; Kiana is always asking people about themselves.

This trait will certainly come in handy as Kiana leaves on her LDS mission to Michigan next week. She will be sorely missed for a year and a half.

Notes and Miscellanea:
Teaser is on par for best Cat Stevens album, right up there with its predecessor, Tea for the Tillerman. While Teaser has some of the more heavy-hitting songs of Stevens' career -- like "Moonshadow" and "Peace Train" -- Tillerman is more understated.

I'll make this a bit easier: Teaser is like Splash Mountain at Disneyland -- dramatic ups and downs -- while Tillerman resembles the Lazy River at Sunsplash -- a consistent stream of lower impact, though still poignant, folk hits.

Ben and Tap Root Manuscript

As I mentioned earlier this month, I've been somewhat inspired by my friends Tyson and Jeremy: they both have been counting down their 50 favorite albums. I love this idea but if I were to try it, two problems would arise: my tastes change too often to be happy with a list; and such a structured blogging regimen would bore me after two weeks (these are reasons why I admire Tyson and Jeremy for undertaking their respective projects).

So, in an effort to document my record collection, I'll be doing something that's a little more me. Over the coming weeks, months -- perhaps years? -- I'll post sporadic photos of a friend or family member posing with a record that means something to them. And I'll talk about what that record, the individual, and myself have in common.

Unfortunately, many of my friends I'd like to include in this project live far away. So if you're living in or visiting the Phoenix area, I hope you'll stop by and peruse my record collection and let me take a picture of you (and for the next six months (maybe longer?) I'll have this awesome brick wall that makes a perfect background).

In addition to being an all around great friend, Ben has been a huge inspiration to me as a runner -- earlier this year he ran a couple half marathons (one of which we dominated together) and in April, he ran his first full marathon. Running with Ben always pushes me to go a little farther than I thought possible.

Another thing Ben and I share is a love for the venerable Neil Diamond. One night, it must've been last January, Ben and I were finishing a long run in my old neighborhood. I was tired and nearly out of breath when Ben began singing "Cracklin' Rosie" by Neil Diamond, which is the first track on Tap Root Manuscript, the album Ben is holding here. Despite my heavy breathing I joined in, and in seconds we were shouting it at the top of our depleted lungs, the lines of song punctuated by desperate gasps for air.

Notes and Miscellanea:
The second half of this record is very experimental: it's Neil's attempt to dig up the roots of music, which he believed to be buried in Africa.

I picked this up for 50 cents in January 2008 at Rasputin Music in Newark, CA (though it might have been Fremont, CA, since the store was on the border of the two cities. I tried to verify it online but apparently the store no longer exists. But what if the store never existed in the first place and my owning this record was the result of some inter-dimensional, Twilight Zone-esque adventure that has been since repressed from my brain by some clandestine government entity, and the Rasputin Music location in Newark/Fremont is a memory implanted by said government entity? That'd be awesome).