pick your poison

I may have shot myself in the foot with the challenge I issued last week to write a lengthy word-only post. I don't have writer's block, I just don't have that much on my mind that's impersonal enough to share on a medium accessible to anyone who uses the world wide web. So I tentatively write the following, taking some comfort that the length of this post will scare most readers away.

Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne is a sort of pseudo-hero of mine. I don't agree with many of his personal philosophies, but I love the passion and originality with which he approaches his career. For example, earlier this year the Flaming Lips released a digital EP stored on a USB drive embedded in the gelatinous brain of a seven and a half pound gummy skull -- you had to eat your way to the USB drive.

A year or two ago, a piece of Wayne's unconventional wisdom struck me and made me realize something important about myself. During a commencement address at an Oklahoma City high school in 2006, Wayne said, "We are not what we dream. We are what we do." Now, I know that's not terribly profound, and it's something I already knew, in a nebulous sort of way. It just had never been articulated for me so clearly (or if it had, I hadn't been paying attention).

Sometimes I feel like more of a dreamer and less of a doer. I contemplated making a list of all the things in my recent life that I've wanted to do or thought I would do but haven't. I look back on a few of those things and think, Why didn't I do that? Why haven't I taken the GMAT yet? It would be so easy to get that out of the way. Why didn't I take the CPA exam right after finishing college? I could've been done with that by now.

And then I try and account for the time I spent not doing these things. What have I done instead? Why is it easier for me to focus on what I haven't done than what I have done? And why do I feel like my most important accomplishments are limited only to the realm of school and work? -- especially when, historically speaking, my passion for both of those things has been so up and down.

Anyway, I feel like I know the answers to these questions. They just tend to bounce around in my head less when I know someone else has heard them.

== == == == ==

In case you haven't noticed, from reading this post and from subtle hints on other posts, I've been rethinking my line of work. I remember someone saying that who you work with is more important than what you do. If that's the case, then maybe I should change my attitude instead of my career. I don't know which scares me more: a new attitude or a new job.

a bitter form of refuge

Sometimes my favorite (and unfortunate) way of dealing with a problem is to ignore it or, if possible, to remove myself from whatever physical aspects that I deem to be part of the problem. While I admit I sometimes ignore and avoid solvable problems, if a problem becomes debilitating or serious enough that I have to be physically somewhere else, I'm usually willing to solve that problem. But sometimes I don't know how to solve those types of problems -- the ones that shut me down, the ones that make me wanna just get up and leave.

I love the strain on his voice when he sings, "But we still fear what we don't know."

I guess I'm sort of lying to myself when I say I don't know how to solve these types of problems. I usually have some kind of idea of what to do. But usually that idea seems so indirect and maybe even useless, or it involves stepping outside a major comfort zone -- something that I'm not known for doing. But I've got to make those small steps, and hope that something or someone will reach out and pull me up along the way.


P.S. I'm entitled to a vague emo post every now and then and I haven't had one in a while. Don't pretend like you've never done it.

to a distant and unknowable friend

I think everyone feels awkward and out of place in junior high, but somehow, you make yourself believe that you're the only who feels that way. As a seventh grader I was shy; I had a hard time talking to new people, especially girls. A bit on the chubby side and self-conscious about my weight, I was the kid who was afraid to take showers after P.E. I dressed in baggy shirts and baggy shorts and even my glasses were baggy (to be fair, baggy was in during the mid 90s).

I remember the first time I heard Weezer's "My Name Is Jonas," almost 16 years ago as that frumpy, 13 year-old seventh grader. As a brand new teenager, the music I listened to consisted of the Star Wars Trilogy soundtrack and a small repertoire of Chicago and Peter Cetera songs I had heard incessantly as a kid (my dad being a huge fan of Chicago and Mr. Cetera). As great as those songs were and are, "My Name As Jonas" made me feel something different. It was a strange nostalgia -- nostalgia for what, I don't know, I was too young to be nostalgic -- I didn't understand the feeling (I still don't) but I was nevertheless hooked. Weezer became my favorite band, my first true love.

As my love grew, I learned more and more about the band, and in particular their singer and principal songwriter, Rivers Cuomo. To me, Rivers was a kindred spirit. He too was shy, and by his appearance, he seemed to not quite fit his niche, the world of rock and roll.

If I had to choose a favorite song of all time this might be it.

About a year after my first encounter with the band, Rivers and Weezer released their second album, Pinkerton. I didn't understand the album at first. It was so much more messy and raw than their debut album, the lyrics were intensely personal, and at the tender age of 14, I was too young relate to most of the subject matter. However, the album's first single, "El Scorcho," a song about about being too shy to talk to a girl despite having so much in common, struck a chord and kept me coming back to Pinkerton.

As I grew up and experienced life, this album began to mean more and more to me. The premise of the song "Pink Triangle" -- falling in love with a lesbian -- might seem laughable to a kid, but even a high schooler can know the pain of falling for that unattainable girl who barely knows you exist. Or the simple ache of loneliness found in "Across The Sea": "As if I could live on words and dreams and millions screams / Oh, how I need a hand in mine to feel". Or the simple joy of finally connecting with someone: "I'm shakin' at your touch / I like you way too much / My baby I'm afraid I'm falling for you."

Pinkerton felt like a glimpse into Rivers Cuomo's diary, but somewhere in my late teens it became my diary. Rivers became a distant and unknowable friend who nevertheless chose to share such private moments of his life with me. His music helped me be comfortable with the teenager I was: a chubby, shy kid who couldn't talk to girls.

Happy birthday, Rivers. Thank you for these 16 years of music, and thank you for the years to come. Keep being who you are.

consolidation?

I'm thinking about absorbing my Steinbeck blog, Earthbound But Aspiring, into this one. Looking back at recent posts, somewhere around In Dubious Battle, I stepped away from the purpose of that blog: sharing my thoughts on Steinbeck's works in the context of my life. Somewhere along the line, my posts, few as they may be, became uninspired book reviews -- something I might write for an unimportant freshman-level college class.

John's boyhood home, Salinas, California, circa 2009.

This and this are examples of what I wanted my posts to be like. For whatever reason, recently I've lacked the enthusiasm and inspiration to create posts that do justice to the subject matter. Changing the venue and using the already established tone of this blog might help me to provide the personal context I've wanted my Steinbeck posts to have.

There are still some logistical things I have to think through and experiment with, like migrating posts and making sure they fit here chronologically (I'm pretty sure blogger lets you back-date posts). Right now I'm thinking consolidation is a pretty OK idea. Your thoughts? Will you stop reading/caring if one-three posts per month are about Steinbeck?


(My problem is I have so many (underdeveloped) hobbies and interests. The Steinbeck blog was a way of focusing and refining one of them. But it seems I might be incapable of doing that. Things are about to get super eclectic around here. In other words, welcome to my life.)

So not only does this thing exist, but now you have deprived everyone of cake!

It's no secret that I have a man-sized man-crush on Ron Swanson from NBC's Parks and Recreation. While I share many of his views on food ("You had me at meat tornado."), body grooming ("Only women shave beneath the neck."), and old wooden sailing ships ("They're beautiful."), it's his political ideologies that I'd like to highlight in this post. Take a look:

"Drop in a token, look at a duck."

Here is a Swanson-esque list of facts detailing an experience I had recently with a government agency, the United States Postal Service.

• On May 17, I purchased a book, Eat Like A Man, from Amazon. The package was shipped via USPS.


• The morning of May 19 I checked the tracking number. Its status read "Out for delivery." A day or two ahead of schedule -- I was delighted.


• Later that morning, I rechecked the status and it had changed. Not to "Delivered" but to "Incorrect address." I was confused because I'd had many packages delivered from Amazon to that address.


• I trusted USPS so I decided to play the waiting game. May 19 was a Friday so I would probably receive the package on Monday or Tuesday.


• By Tuesday, May 24, I hadn't received anything and the package's status, which now read "Arrival Scan," told me nothing.


• The same day I went to the local Post Office to get to the bottom of things. A supervisor took my name and address and told me I would likely receive the package in the next day or two.


• Two days later I found myself back at the Post Office talking to a different supervisor. He took my number and told me he'd call me later with info on my package. He never called.


• Tuesday, May 31, I called the Post Office and talked to yet another supervisor. She told me the same thing, that she'd look into it and call me back.


• Thursday, June 2, I called again. I talked to the second supervisor. He remembered me. In a roundabout way, he told me that USPS had no idea where my package was. A package with a tracking number. That they were supposed to be tracking.


• Having done more than my part to find my package with the help of USPS, I decided to call Amazon for a replacement.


• Friday, June 3, 1:59pm, within less than 24 hours of my call to Amazon, the replacement package was successfully delivered via UPS. At no extra cost to me.

This experience helped me understand why Ron feels the way he does about government. There are some things the government should leave to the private sector, and delivering our mail might be one of them.


Note #1: A man-crush only means that the object of the crush is worthy of emulation. Or that you want to do something manly with him, like go camping or have a barbecue (it really behooves you to click that link).

Note #2: I don't have many "real" celebrity crushes, i.e., a crush on a female celebrity, but I've got a pretty big one for Aubrey Plaza, also on Parks & Rec.

Note #3: Over the years there have been talks of a government bailout for the USPS. Maybe it's time for privatization instead, like a buyout from UPS and/or FedEx.

gender-alizations

I can't believe it's June already. I'm not sure why 2011 is so important, but I seem to be reckoning my life from before and after the beginning of this year. And it feels like my post-2010 life is going by too fast.

I've been blogging a lot lately. In fact, April and May have been record months as far as number of posts go, twelve posts each month. In April I had five posts here, five on BUST3R, and two on my Steinbeck blog. May, I had seven here (a monthly record on this blog), two on BUST3R, and three on the Steinbeck blog. I know twelve in a month might not seem like a lot for other bloggers out there, but for me, with the fact-checking I do on some posts and the time it takes me to write something I don't hate, twelve is pretty darn good.

In May I also took a great deal of time editing a short story that I wrote at the end of March. I submitted it to a couple short story contests. (Most of you will probably never read it though, I just don't feel comfortable passing it around.)

Anyway, I guess I'm pretty proud of myself. This month I'm thinking about blogging a little less to work on another short fiction project but we'll see if that ends up happening.

The other day Buster and I were talking and we postulated that around 60% of Blogger.com users are Mormon wives/mothers. I know that's an exaggeration, but there are quite a few. There's nothing wrong with that -- I follow, read, and comment on several blogs that fit that niche -- it's just at the end of the day, as a single male, I'm finding fewer blogs out there I can relate to. But part of that is that some of the typical guy stuff I just don't do. For example, I'll read a hundred mom blogs before reading a single sports blog.

So fellas, where you at? Buster, you're my most consistent male blogging friend, so I thank you for that. Also, happy birthday. Jeremy, you're a close second. Keep it up. Clint, while your posts aren't as frequent, they are of a higher quality than most blogs I read. Trev, I thought you were poised to take over the world and then you disappeared. Come back. Quinn, your posts are always relevant and usually pretty hilarious -- please post more often. Speaking of hilarious, Thome, where did you go? Zach, I'm glad you're still blogging.

With all this attention on my guy-friend bloggers, I'm not trying to take away from the contribution of you female bloggers because many, if not most, of the blogs I read are written by you. I'm just striving for a more gender-equal representation in the blogs I read and enjoy, that's all.


P.S. I think people respond better to posts with pictures. I just haven't been taking any lately. Sorry.

P.P.S. I'm looking for more blogs to read -- male or female. Recommendations are welcome.

P.P.P.S. Speaking of Mormon blogging, this article is pretty interesting.

P.P.P.P.S. Update: I forgot to shout-out my buddy Whit's blog. Check it if you need inspiration for making your house look awesome. Check it even if you don't.

sacred road

I was planning on running a marathon in June. I just don't have the confidence for it. Here's how my plans went awry...

I ran a half marathon back in February. I wasn't in as good of shape as I would've liked but I was definitely ready for it. After the halvsie (I'm gonna go ahead and call it that) I kept running and I started a training program to run the Teton Dam Marathon in Rexburg, Idaho, on June 11, 2011. Then I came down with a cold at the beginning of March. I didn't run for a week. I should've made it two because when I started running again my lungs just couldn't handle it. I kept running (probably a mistake) and it took almost a month before I could handle an easy pace without going short of breath. And my lungs still tire quickly when I try to push my pace.

All the while my orthotics weren't fitting quite right and causing a bit of pain in my right ankle. I had them adjusted a couple times but with no luck. (My awesome podiatrist has since fitted me with a new pair on which he gave me a huge discount and they fit perfectly.)

I've injured myself twice in the past through overtraining so that has been a constant fear. Especially with having been sick and orthotics that didn't fit right, I was afraid of injuring myself again so I didn't push myself too hard.

So with that, I'm definitely not ready to run a marathon in June. At least I don't feel ready. My buddy Ben is convinced I could do it if I really wanted. And maybe I could. I want to enjoy my first marathon, I want it to be as positive as possible. I don't want to be worried about injuring myself or not finishing, or worse, I don't want one of those two things to actually happen.

So I've consigned myself to doing a half marathon in June. I'm determined to run a full marathon in the fall. There's one big obstacle that is gonna make that difficult for me though: summer. The Phoenix Valley is quite possibly the worst place to be if you're trying to train for a race in the summer -- our low temperatures are higher than other places' high temperatures. It's seriously rough. I really don't know how I'm gonna do it.

I've got a couple summer trips planned that will interrupt training as well, even if they are to places with excellent summer climates. (Traveling always messes up training.)

I've got to do it though, I can't give myself any excuse not to. Your encouragement and positive thoughts are welcome and appreciated. Thanks in advance.




Please don't tell me I can't make it
It ain't gonna do me any good
Please don't offer me your modern methods
I'm fixin' to carve this out of wood

the relative theory of practicality

I had a hard time falling asleep the other night (a nap at 9:00 pm, no matter how short, will do that to you). Around 1:00 am, as I read the last pages of In Dubious Battle, I started fleshing out an idea I got Sunday night as I was looking at satellite images of Montreal on Google Maps. More on that later.

Earlier today I was perusing different graduate degree programs at ASU. Why is it that anything I have any interest in studying has no application in the real world? Or won't provide any benefit to my current job/career path? Why can't I get a master's degree in French just because I want to? Never mind that the only thing I could do with that is maybe teach; never mind that I'd make considerably less money doing that than if I stuck with what I'm doing now.

I don't regret getting an undergrad degree in accounting, not for a second. Would I regret getting a master's degree in something less practical like American literature or geography? I really doubt it. At this point though, I feel like the only reason I would get a master's degree is because I feel like I shouldn't leave this life without one. Maybe when I feel like having a certain master's degree would benefit my career or life in general, maybe that's when I should tackle it.

So the other night when I couldn't fall asleep I thought about giving away (selling when possible) all my stuff (i.e., records, books, CDs, most of my music gear) and moving to a big city. Or rather, a city with a bike/pedestrian friendly downtown area. Just for the summer. From May to September or October. San Francisco comes to mind. So does Montreal. I'd try to make friends with random people I'd meet while frequenting whatever city's public transportation as well as other atmospheres and venues that don't exist here in Mesa. I'd take an hour or so to run every morning. I might find a job somewhere but I wouldn't work for more than four hours a day. I'd ride my bike or just walk around the city, exploring, really getting to know my surroundings. I'd read a lot, write a lot, and take a lot of photos.

I think about doing all that, and suddenly, a master's degree in French doesn't seem so impractical.

your already cold mind

I read somewhere that Alcatraz was the only prison in its time to have hot showers. This was so the inmates wouldn't grow accustomed to cold water, which would facilitate escape through the hypothermia-inducing waters of the San Francisco Bay.

The hot water heater at our house is currently non-operational. I got in the shower Friday morning and the water was too cold to do anything but wash my hair. Friday also happened to be a record-breaking 100+ degree day here in the Greater Phoenix Metropolitan Area. While the water was still a bit chilly, the weather was perfect for a quick dip in the pool. I stayed in long enough to get used to the cold water, which made taking a cold shower bearable.

This photo turned out much better than the ones I tied to take of Alcatraz, which shares the Bay with this iconic landmark.

So until the water heater is fixed, if I want a shower I've got to go for a quick swim first.

== == == == ==

If there's one thing I've learned over the past year, it's that life is much easier, more enjoyable, and [insert any positive superlative adjective here] when you involve other people -- be they family, friends, or even complete strangers. For that reason, when my buddy Buster invited me to contribute to his blog, I was happy to accept. Read my inaugural post here.

how I live or die

Once every few months I wake up in the middle of the night and I can't get back to sleep. It's been one of those nights (well, it's almost 5:00 a.m., so I guess it's been one of those mornings). Usually, I'll wake up and then worry that I won't be able to fall back asleep -- and ironically, said worrying will keep me from sleeping. But tonight (this morning) there are three thoughts that are occupying my attention and keeping me from sleep -- only two of which are worth worrying about but probably not worth losing sleep over -- but alas, here I am unable to sleep. But this post is about none of those things.

== == == == ==

I wasn't born in Arizona but I proudly claim it as my home. The way I feel about Arizona is similar to how Texans feel about Texas. What others say about my state -- be it positive or negative -- I take personally.

This weekend some distant friends from my college days (I say that like they were so long ago) were in town visiting. It warmed my heart to hear them speak positively about this state I love so much.

== == == == ==

There's a saying in the church I belong to -- said mostly in jest -- that a single man aged 25 or older is a menace to society. The following is a tale of how six young men gave evidence to that theory.

A couple months ago -- I'm fairly sure it was back in October -- a few friends and I decided to take up a new hobby: model rocketry. At the time, I wasn't terribly close to any these guys. I had known most of them for a couple years but hadn't had the opportunity to bond with any of them on a deeper level. On this particular night we ended up launching rockets at one of the baseball fields at Mountain View High School.

After a good hour or two -- it had to be around 10:30 p.m. at this point -- we got a little bored with traditional rocket launching. We started launching off rocket engines by themselves, sans rocket. At one point, we duct taped two engines to a glow stick and attempted to ignite both engines simultaneously. We laughed in hearty delight at the result.

At this point we decided it was as good a time as any to call it a night (and we had just launched off our last rocket engine). As we were packing up and responsibly cleaning up our trash, we heard the rattle and clang of a chain link fence about a hundred yards away. I assumed it was another party who wanted to use the field for their own mischievous means and who was I to deny them so I ignored the noise and went back to my cleaning.

Seconds later we saw a dark figure approaching us at a run. The figure yelled, "Mesa Police! Get on the ground!"

If I could roll my eyes with my whole body, it was with that attitude that I took a seat on the grass. For the next hour four or five police officers (they all had nothing better to do) explained to us the nature of our wrongdoings. How model rocketry, while not expressly illegal, was nevertheless an unsavory hobby. How the school could press charges for our having apparently trespassed. How we as 'adults' should be ashamed of ourselves.

The school didn't press charges though I don't think I would've minded if they had -- you can't put a price on friendship and any fine I would've had to pay would've made the bond I formed that night with those guys that much deeper.

== == == == ==

It's hard to explain group dynamics and friendship. I've always been blessed with great friends (I'd like to cite the previous story as evidence). It's funny because as I kid I was more content to stay at home and play legos and watch cartoons on TV. Now I feel like I can't do anything alone.

It's strange how group dynamics change. You get close to people -- collectively and individually -- and then suddenly things are different. So-and-so starts dating someone and they don't come around as much. Someone gets a new job so they hang out less. Circumstances change and you just don't see a valued friend that much anymore. For the individual, these changes are usually for the better and I certainly don't begrudge the changes or the individual.

I feel like I live or die by my friends, be they far away or close by. It might seem weak to rely on other people so much. It's not that I don't believe in myself (though to be honest, I have my doubts more often that I'd like to admit). I guess the older I get the more I believe in mutual strength -- that strength comes from reaching out -- not from looking in. I'm trying really hard to act on that belief.

Weezer 2010: too little, too late?

Whenever I blog about Weezer it always ends up being a long rant that I feel like no one would care about reading but me and I end up deleting it before I finish. This may turn into that. But so be it, because maybe I just need to get it out of my system.

- - - - -

Nostalgia is so in right now. And Weezer seems to be capitalizing on it. A few weeks ago Weezer released a single called "Memories" from their new album Hurley (this might be their best album cover yet), due out September 14. The song details the band's exploits during their early days and reaches levels of fuzz and rock rarely, if ever, seen in Weezer's past decade (could this be due to the band recently signing to Epitaph?).

If that's not enough, the band is set to release not one, but two throwback albums during the month of November. The first is called Death To False Metal... A Collection Of Unheard Songs From The Weezer Vault (previously titled Odds and Ends -- though I'm curious to know how much of this collection is actually 'unheard' -- old demo Weezer tracks weren't hard to find online in the early '00s).

The second album is a two-disc deluxe version of the fan favorite Pinkerton. Though I'm pretty positive I've heard every song that will be on the 'deluxe' portion of this album I'm nevertheless excited for it because a.) my Pinkerton CD skips like nobody's business and I feel cheap rocking a burned copy; after all, it is one of my top three favorite albums; and, b.) they might release it on vinyl (although I already have an import version of Pinkerton on vinyl). In addition to all this Pinkerton goodness, hardcore fans can purchase a three-disc 'superdeluxe' version of Pinkerton that includes the third installment of Rivers' Alone series (Alone is a collection of Rivers' home-recorded demos; two Alone albums have been released so far).

In sum, we're being bombarded with five albums worth of Weezer in the span of less than two months.

- - - - -

When Weezer's Pinkerton was released in 1996 I had just turned 14. I bought the album a couple weeks after it was released; I found it in the used section at Sam Goody for $9.00. I remember listening to the album the next day while working on my bike in the garage. I didn't hate it, but I didn't get it -- the rough guitars, the raw, intimate vocals, the raucous, bombastic drumbeats -- it was certainly a change from their debut Blue album. I wasn't surprised that it had ended up in the used section where I found it only a couple weeks after the album was released.

Pinkerton did have one pop gem, however, that kept me coming back to the album during the first year of owning that album: the album's first (and only semi-commercial) single, "El Scorcho." I listened to this song almost every day before school in eight grade. I know this song like I know few things in my life.

When I found out that Weezer would be stopping in Tempe during their Pinkerton tour on December 17, 1996 (I'm pretty sure of this date) I knew I had to go. But, my mom didn't agree with me. She said I was too young to attend such a concert. I was devastated. I remember walking around the block and crying (gimme a break, I was 14) when I found out I couldn't go.

I didn't see Weezer live till 2000 at the Warped Tour in 'lovely' Chula Vista, CA, with Danny, Joby, and Jeff, as evidenced in this charming photograph -- a story for a different blog post, perhaps.

Like I said, I didn't quite 'get' Pinkerton when it was first released. In time, though, I came to regard it as work of masterful genius and my love for it even surpassed that of the Blue album.

- - - - -

A week or so ago MTV News caught wind from Rivers himself of some news bound to excite even the most cynical Weezer fan: Weezer's plans for a Blue/Pinkerton tour to coincide with the release of the Pinkerton deluxe edition.

Attending a Weezer concert where they play nothing but songs from Blue and Pinkerton is something I've dreamed of since 1996. So why am I not jumping up and down and peeing my pants with joy?

I just revisited a blog post from almost two years ago wherein I describe my excitement and elation at the announcement of Jimmy Eat World's Clarity tour.

So why doesn't the announcement of a Blue/Pinkerton tour illicit a similar emotional response? Here I am, I'm not even a cynical Weezer fan and I refuse to let myself get excited. What did me in? Was the Raditude straw that broke the camel's back? (I do love a few songs on that album -- I just have an impossible time hanging with tracks like "Love is the Answer" and "In the Mall.")

Where was Weezer two years ago when Jimmy Eat World was announcing their Clarity tour and paying back the devotion of their longtime fans with the gift of a lifetime? Is Weezer's potential Blue/Pinkerton tour too little, too late?

Don't get me wrong. I still love Weezer. You know I'll be in the front row of whatever Blue/Pinkerton show I can get to (which will probably be in California because I doubt a tour like this will come to Phoenix). Maybe the Blue/Pinkerton tour is just what I need to rekindle my love for Weezer... a love that has been ever more fleeting in the recent years.

...maybe.

something for everyone

This album has been in and out of my CD player (yeah, I still listen to CDs) during the past couple weeks:

These Four Walls by We Were Promised Jetpacks
There are quite a few things I like about this band:

-- Their name. I'd like to know who has the ability to make (and keep) such a promise. And how one gets promised a jetpack.

-- I don't know what it is, there's just something raw, something a bit more manly, a bit more tough about this guy's voice. Maybe it's the slight rasp, maybe it's his Scottish accent, but it's probably both.

-- Electric guitars. Nothing searing, soaring or face-melting, just dirty and sometimes dynamic. More often than not that's all I ever need.

-- They're touring with Jimmy Eat World (more on them later) this fall. Not sure if they'll be playing at JEW's TBD Arizona show but a guy can hope, right?

*****

I kinda like it when Brandon Flowers makes religious allusions in his songs. He's LDS too so I feel like I can relate -- or at least I can understand where he's coming from. That said, I really enjoy the single "Crossfire" from his forthcoming solo album, Flamingo.



There's just something about the way Charlize puts her arm around him at the end there. It's cute. Flamingo is out September 14.

*****

Speaking of September, it's shaping up to be a good month as far as music releases go. My hometown homeboys Jimmy Eat World release Invented on September 28. This could be their best album in a long while for at least two reasons:

1. Producer Mark Trombino is back -- his resume includes prior JEW releases Static Prevails, Clarity, and Bleed American, not to mention a slew of albums by other 90s emo/indie/post-punk greats like No Knife and Knapsack.

2. Tom Linton -- JEW guitarist and former full-time JEW vocalist -- takes over lead vocal duties for one song on this album -- something he hasn't done since Clarity in 1999.

JEW has yet to announce a date in Arizona for their upcoming tour this fall but they have assured fans via Twitter/Facebook that they are indeed planning a show in their home state. To that I say, thank you Jimmy Eat World for not sweeping your AZ fans under the rug like so many other bands have because of SB1070 (for the record, JEW opposes SB1070).

*****

For me, blogging about movies would be sort of like someone who listens to the radio and occasionally downloads a song from iTunes blogging about music (OK, not exactly -- I like movies more than that, but I definitely wouldn't call myself a movie guy). Nevertheless, I encourage those who have yet to see this movie to go see it:

Here's why:

1. It's a good movie.

2. Cohesive cast.

3. Why is it that anything successful in Hollywood is either based on a book or a remake of another movie? Inception is great because it's an original story -- not based on a book, not based on another movie, but based on a screenplay -- and it's been successful at the box office. Hopefully, filmmakers will realize they don't have to regurgitate someone else's premise in order to make a few bucks (or a good movie). (Ironically, none of Christopher Nolan's other box office successes, Batman Begins, The Prestige, and The Dark Knight, are not his original works -- but they're nevertheless very well done.)

4. Finally, financially, I hope it does better than the latest Twilight installment. (Which, by the way, was awful. This is coming from the guy who kinda liked the second movie, so I'm not just being biased or close-minded.)

make it mine, 2009

(I meant to post this before 2010 rolled around... better late than never, right?)

I don't think 2009 could've gotten off to a better start. Exhibit A:


The stern look on my face was hardly indicative of the general mood of 2008's New Year's Eve. Jackie's face (foreground right) is a fair representation of what was really going inside my heart/head. It's been so long since I've had such a fun-filled New Year's: rocking to Styx (!) with best friends, heckling drunks on the free light rail, consuming chocolate chip pancakes, and coining the official slogan of 2009... all in one night (this year was fun too, but let's be honest, it'll be quite a while before NYE 2008 is beaten). The following are how I will remember Make It Mine, 2009:

January: California
On the way back to BYU-I for my very last semester, I took the scenic route with Leah through California on our way back to Idaho (emphasis on scenic). We met up with Harper in Bakersfield and drove up through Salinas and Monterey... Leah and Harper were kind enough to humor my John Steinbeck obession, which resulted in this picture:


Relaxing on the steps of John Steinbeck's boyhood home in Salinas, CA. The next morning we made our way up through San Francisco, and we finished the day/night with a drive through northern Nevada to Utah (the only crappy part of the trip).

March: Jimmy Eat World Clariy Tour
No need for detail here since a perusal of previous posts will provide more than you would care to even read. What other band would devote a tour to playing one of their more obscure, less commercially successful albums in its entirety?

April: Graduation
Have you ever woken up on the morning of your birthday and your dad or whoever asks you how it feels to be a year older? And you think about it and you realize that you feel the same as you did the day before? That's what graduating college was like. Sure, it was nice, I got a few gifts and some extra attention -- just like a birthday -- but I sure didn't feel any different or smarter when I left Rexburg on April 9, 2009.

Had I known how much I would miss my friends and how much I would pine for college life in the months to come, I probably would've had to have been forcibly removed. Instead, I was all too glad to pack up my car with little regard of when I would see Rexburg again.

April: Wolverine Premiere
Hugh tells the best jokes.


May: Colorado
I moved to Colorado. For a few months I really hated my life.

August: Reunion Show and Emiglio Launch
I spent all of high school and a big chunk of my post-mission life playing in a rock band... so naturally I was excited that the stars aligned so well to allow a TMP/xyzebra/Felix/The Headline is Dead reunion show (TMP was my high school band; if a band could have a best friend then Felix was TMP's best friend; xyzebra was a synthesis of TMP and Felix, both in style and band members). While this show alone would be noteworthy in itself, it's how the night ended that really made it so memorable.


Earthbound but aspiring: When I tell people how we launched Emiglio (Whit's pet robot and xyzebra's mascot) into the outer limits of Earth's atmosphere with a weather balloon I generally get one of two reactions: a.) "Oh, that sounds like it was a lot of fun," or b.) "Why would you do that?" Regardless of how people react I've given up on trying to explain the bittersweet feeling we all experienced while watching Emiglio soar among the stars... the closest I can come to explaining how we felt is found in a song -- go listen to "Ara Batur" by Sigur Ros starting at about 4:45 till the end of the song... triumphant melancholy.

September/October: Sunny Day Real Estate Reunion Tour
I didn't go to too many shows in 2009 but the ones I did go to were some heavy hitters. A SDRE reunion had been rumored for some time so I was surprised -- and delighted -- when it actually happened. I was fortunate enough to attend two of their shows, in Denver and Seattle. During the tour they debuted a new song, "10"... perhaps a good sign that they not quite ready to call it quits again...

2009: Regret
I keep coming back to the lyrics of "Fight Test":

I thought I was smart
I thought I was right
I thought it better not to fight
I thought there was a virtue
In always being cool
So it came time to fight
I thought I'll just step aside
And that the time would prove you wrong
And that you would be a fool

Remember at the beginning of last year when everybody was posting those "25 things about me" lists on Facebook? The last entry on my list read, "I'm not one to regret much of anything...." People who have no regrets either have life figured out or suffer from chronic apathy.

For to lose I could accept
But to surrender I just wept
And regretted this moment
Oh, and that I was the fool

I certainly was the fool to think that I could live my life so perfectly that I would regret almost nothing. I'm so grateful for regret because it means -- hopefully -- that I won't make the same idiotic mistakes I made in 2009.

the table and the light

Right now, a lucky few hundred in Phoenix are about to enjoy something special:


While a live Reuben's Accomplice performance is rare and certainly special, it's the 'special guests' that really excite me. The following tweet (wow, that just sounds so dumb) was hyperlinked on Modified Arts' website in reference to these special guests:


Jimmy Eat World for $5 at Modified? What is this, 1999? Because that was the last time I saw JEW at that price and at such an intimate venue.

The current temperature of -1°F is one thing to deal with but missing this is another indeed.

On the bright side, Jimmy Eat World has been working with Mark Trombino -- who produced Static Prevails, Clarity, Bleed American and Stay On My Side Tonight -- on a set of new songs.

the effects of my three hour nap are wearing off

I'm ready to get some serious songwriting and some demo recording done. When I talk to people about things I'm working I feel a little bit more accountable and I'm more likely to make them happen, so this is the purpose of this post.

The other day I made a list of the songs I've written and I was pleasantly surprised that I've written about six and could have a few more done in not too much time if I really focus.

Ganymede
This song was inspired by the third moon of Jupiter and the mythological character for which said moon is named. This song is essentially complete though I'm thinking of changing the chorus.

Too Many Holes (Keep Him Out)
I really like song titles with parentheses (like the first single from the new Weezer record, out in October).

Phoenix
This song is about how I hate the winter, ostensibly. I need to nail down a few lines of lyrics on this song, but it's essentially done. I'd like to add some electric guitar parts -- maybe a solo between the first and second verses?

Then Why Don't You Marry An Ice Cream Sandwich
Thank you to Trev for inspiring me to name a song after an arrested development reference, and thank you to Arrested Development for being such a great TV show. I'm thinking about adding a bridge to this song. Actually, I might just keep it how it is. I feel like I've tried to re-work this song a few times but I've always liked how I originally wrote it the best.

Apology I
I'm working on a guitar solo for this one; I might change one line of lyrics. Other than that, I'm pretty proud of this tune.

Apology II
If The Police can do it (same name for two songs) then why can't I? (Seriously check this video; this one is pretty awesome too. What a great band. Probably tied with Journey for favorite classic rock band. I'm glad I got to see them live last year.) I have a ways to go on this one lyrically but I like where it's going.

Of Paper and Polaroids (Aron and Abra)
This one started out as an ode to my favorite Steinbeck novel but it's turning out to be something different. I'll probably drop the parenthetical "Aron and Abra" and take the first verse and chorus and make the "Aron and Abra Reprise" while tacking on an alternate ending. I really like reprises.

A, D Maj
This song doesn't really have any lyrics yet so it's working title is based on the first chord and the key signature of the song (which are usually the same, but in this case they're not). I wrote the guitar to this song a long time ago when I was listening to a lot of Neil Diamond; I think it kind of shows but without totally ripping off Neil.

G min
I also wrote this tune a long time ago but I've never finished it because the guitar part is hard to sing along to. That, and its tuning is different so I don't play it much. The guitar isn't typical of something I'd come up with (it reminds me a bit of Jeff's style) so it's a guarantee that not everything I write will sound the same.

A Maj, 7th fret
I might make this one an instrumental jam. We'll see.

I'm probably gonna purchase some recording equipment at the end of the month. All I really need is an interface for my computer (most of which come with pretty legit recording software) and a condenser microphone. Both of these items are pretty affordable, so that's great.

I'm also saving up to buy one of these:



The first is a Jim Adkins Telecaster (Jim is the singer for Jimmy Eat World). I tried out one of these guys at Milano's in AZ last weekend through a Fender Deville (the amp I own) and it sounded sick beyond belief. While it's a Telecaster in shape and name, it's really nothing like one. The pickups are super hot, and it has a set neck and a tune-o-matic bridge, which are features typical to a Gibson guitar (which makes sense since Jim was rocking a Les Paul prior to switching over to this guy).

The second is a Telecaster Deluxe. This guitar is probably a little more versatile that the Jim Adkins Tele but I'm just not as crazy about it. The biggest difference between this guy and a traditional Tele are the pickups and the wiring (and the Stratocaster headstock, but that has nothing to do with how it sounds). The Deluxe has two humbucking pickups, as opposed to the the single coils on a normal Tele. The result is a thicker, fuller sound rather than the plucky, twangy sound of the single coils. The wiring is more like a Gibson guitar, a volume and tone knob for each pickup.

Anyway, if you don't know much about guitars, all that was probably meaningless. Regardless, I felt like sharing, mostly because I'm super excited to have a new guitar.

Potential guilty pleasure band?

About a year ago I attended my 12th Jimmy Eat World concert in San Jose while I was in the Bay Area doing my internship. Paramore was opening; I remember feeling indifferent to that fact. With my minimal radio/TV consumption I hadn't really heard them or if I had, their music didn't really stick out. I just knew they were a punk-pop band with a female lead singer and that they were popular with the teen crowd, more so among girls, or so I supposed.

Paramore played and I was pleasantly surprised. I was still apathetic toward their music but they at least put on a tight show. And having an attractive singer didn't hurt either.

A week or two went by and I was browsing the Internet looking for Sunny Day Real Estate videos on YouTube when something strange happened: When I typed in the song title "Faces in Disguise" I began seeing more videos for Paramore than Sunny Day Real Estate. I remember clicking this one in particular:


(Fast forward to 0:44 to get past some of the useless banter.)

Instantly my opinion of the band skyrocketed. It's great to see a mainstream band like this recognize the impact Sunny Day Real Estate has on their music. If I wasn't really into their music I could at least (and I do) respect them as a band for their love and reverence for SDRE.

Here's a good video of them covering the song:


(Listen to Hayley belt it out at 3:17 -- holy crap, she's got some pipes!)

The original SDRE version of the song is worth checking too -- one of my favorite songs by them.

Anyway, I guess what I'm getting at is that I might check out Paramore, and not just the songs they cover. And I guess it wouldn't be such a bad thing if I ended up liking them. Sure, they're not the hippest band, but when did being hip dictate what I should and shouldn't like?

My Fidelity

The first time I went to Stinkweeds I was 16. Despite being of age, I had yet to experience that teenage rite of passage that is obtaining a driver's license. So, a few of us convinced our otherwise ignored friend Dustin to drive us down there in his mom's Chevy Astro van. To a group of sheltered teens from Mesa, Arizona, an afternoon excursion to neighboring Tempe was more like a trip to a underdeveloped foreign land; and this trip in particular was fraught with third-world danger when Dustin decided to drive in the wrong lane of traffic through the eternal construction zone known as Apache Boulevard. Ironically the goods we sought were a product of four Mesa boys who had grown in suburbs not unlike, and not far from, our very own.

Really, for me this trip was a series of firsts: my first independent record store experience, my first outing to Tempe sans parents, and the first time I heard mention of the term "EP". The EP in question was an obscure self-titled release from Mesa's own Jimmy Eat World -- a sort of sonic appetizer, released to simultaneously tide us over and whet our appetites for their upcoming full-length album, Clarity. I can't remember who all came; most likely Jeff and Devyn (we no doubt had forgone band practice that day) and probably Erich since Dustin drove us.

Our first Stinkweeds experience was apparently a pleasant one, as we made a habit of going back frequently -- when we could find someone to drive us, that is. My second or third time there I bought How It Feels to Be Something On by Sunny Day Real Estate at the suggestion of Jeff's brother Randy. I hated it.* When finally we were able drive to Tempe on our own, we often combined our outings to Stinkweeds with a stop at Sub Factory, maybe the best bread on a sub you've tasted.

== == == == ==

It took a while before I understood the term "music snob" -- a person who has no desire to share music, be it by means of suggesting bands or albums, through loaning of CDs, or through the swapping of electronic media. However, it's not one's actions that make a music snob, but the motives behind the actions. This person refuses to share simply because knowing more hip bands than you will make him or her cooler than you. In other words, a music snob is a person who hoards music, to the extent that such a thing is possible.

Let me throw this out there: I am not a music snob. At least not in the general sense. Or in any sense for that matter, but I'll let you be the judge of that after you read what I have to say.

== == == == ==

Stinkweeds in Tempe was sandwiched between a bartending academy and Pita Jungle, one of the finest restaurants in the greater Phoenix metropolitan area. In April 2006 I heard a rumor that the Tempe location would be closing and the owner would be selling Tempe's inventory to an unrelated party in Salt Lake City, Utah, where a new record store would be opening. By this time, Stinkweeds had opened a second location in Phoenix, so when I heard about the liquidation of the Tempe store I wasn't as distraught as I should have been.

== == == == ==

I have a hard time downloading music. Of course I am technologically savvy, and I know how to download music. Maybe it's because during the years wherein I formed my musical tastes downloading music, whether legally or illegally, wasn't really an option; cable modems and the hard drive-friendly mp3 format were technological breakthroughs and therefore rare, instead of the norm. In sum, maybe I'm a simple creature of habit when it comes to procuring new tunes.

Or maybe I like the feel a of CD spanning my middle finger and thumb, and perhaps I enjoy browsing the liner notes, deciphering unintelligible lyrics and perusing the thank you list. Better yet, maybe I enjoy delicately placing the needle on a new vinyl, and maybe I love the subtly accentuated and unparalleled sound quality of wax.

Similarly, I don't seem to appreciate music when I don't purchase it. Maybe there's something to be said for giving something up and getting something in return. Is money not our recompense when we give up a portion of our time and talents -- a piece of ourselves -- to a person or organization? When we make a monetary sacrifice, we're somewhat akin to the musicians who give up a piece of themselves in the songs they craft. If sacrifice gives meaning and appreciation to life, it certainly does to music as well.

== == == == ==

When I was in Salt Lake City at the beginning of April I made a point of visiting Slowtrain Records at the suggestion of Zach. I found their CD selection to be somewhat lacking but their impressive array of vinyl made up for that. We didn't have much time to spend for record shopping, so after a quick scan of the LP section I began flipping through 7 inches. It didn't take long for me to notice a round, green handwritten price tag on several of the more obscure, older-looking 7 inches. Its familiarity called for further inspection. Removing a 7 inch from the bin, I read the single word that spanned the top half of the circular price tag: "Stinkweeds." I had suspected that Slowtrain was the reincarnation of the old Tempe location of Stinkweeds, and now I had proof.

This discovery caused a subtle tearing in my heart**: at first, it was a feeling of superiority -- as if I belonged to an exclusive group. Next I felt annoyed -- annoyed that something so holy could be paraded in front those who had not experienced nor could appreciate the glory that was Stinkweeds Tempe -- my pearls thrown before the veritable swine.***

== == == == ==

I've since repented of my snobbish feelings. But I won't repent of my love for record stores and their produce. Music plays an important role in my life and -- for better or worse -- it helps define it. My fidelity -- it's worth the sacrifice.



* Present day, this might be my favorite of their four albums.
** Sunny Day Real Estate pun not intended.
*** The coalescence of these feelings must be how a music snob feels when he hears his favorite band on the radio (not that a music snob would be listening to the radio, but still). Oh, and I do not think Slowtrain customers are swine, I just felt the metaphor fit my initial feelings; I love Slowtrain and I always make an effort to shop there whenever I'm in SLC.

my skeptic sight

I should've been in bed an hour or two ago but when I got home for the evening I found myself at http://bsidesrus.blogspot.com/, downloading Jimmy Eat World b-sides from Futures and Chase This Light.

I think I was in 8th grade when I heard JEW (that's how you abbreviate Jimmy Eat World -- I'm not being antisemitic, I'm promise). My older brother Spencer bought a pair of Doc Marten's (after all, it was the 90s, so why not?) and it came with a Capitol Records CD sampler. Jimmy Eat World's "Call It in the Air" was featured on said sampler. As a young junior high schooler I remember hearing talk of Jimmy Eat World, how they were a popular local band, how a few of them had attended the local high school, etc. I was anxious to check them out.

I put my brother's CD sampler in my Discman (this thing was legit!) and punched the track button till I heard the soon-to-be-familiar feedback swell of "Call It in the Air". Through pummeled power chords I heard a raspy Jim Adkins sing, "Leave home today / Escape your region" (I think that's what he sings, he's so hard to understand on that song). I instantly felt an aching yet compelling nostalgia that I hadn't felt since I heard "My Name is Jonas" for the first time; frankly, it frightened me. You see, at the time -- and throughout most of my junior and senior high school experience -- I was obsessed with Weezer. And any other band capable of evoking a feeling that I had only previously felt with Weezer was clearly a threat. I mean, think about it, if Jimmy Eat World became my new favorite band, then Weezer wouldn't be my favorite band anymore. Yeah, it seems silly now, but this is a legitimate concern to any 8th grader.

In the back of my mind and in my brother's CD case Jimmy Eat World loomed as a constant threat; but, the coup d'etat never came. Toward the end of 9th grade Spencer introduced me to JEW's first big label release, Static Prevails. This album taught me that it was possible to like another band as much as Weezer. And what's more, I learned that it was OK if I liked another band more than Weezer.

Throughout high school Jimmy Eat World and Weezer traded places as my favorite bands, much like the way Neptune and Pluto trade places as the most distant planet from the sun (mind you, this was before Pluto was demoted to a lowly dwarf planet). On November 21, 1998 (I only remember this because it was my younger brother's birthday) my mom dropped me off -- along with three friends, Jeff, Devyn and Erich -- at Tempe Bowl (R.I.P.) for my first Jimmy Eat World concert. We didn't know the concert started at 9:00; we thought it started at 7:00 (rookie mistake) so we ended up hanging out in the bowling alley for two hours. We also ended up not having to pay because of that, so naïveté was to our benefit. I don't remember much of the concert, I just remember on the way home hearing Neil Diamond's "Girl You'll Be a Woman Soon" for the first time on the way home in my mom's car. The chorus was so easy to remember the four of us were singing along in no time.

A few months later in '99 Clarity was released. One of Spencer's best friends was dating one of the members of JEW's sister so I had been listening to demos of this album a few weeks before it was released. Right after the album came out JEW did a show at a now defunct venue in Tempe called the Green Room. It was a small venue so tickets were selling out fast. I promptly made a trip to Stinkweeds (R.I.P. Tempe location) and they were sold out of tickets. I went to Eastside Records and purchased the remaining 10 or so tickets for my friends and I. The next day at school I was accosted by an angry Kevin Williams who apparently had gone to Stinkweeds and Eastside right after me only to find out tickets were sold out. Sorry Kevin and friends.

Here in Idaho, I meet plenty of fellow students who live near Rexburg and take trips home for the weekend, be they from SLC or another city an Idaho. Being from Arizona, I've never had the luxury of a weekend trip home. So when I went home at the beginning of the month it seemed kind of silly. But it's not every day that Jimmy Eat World goes on tour playing Clarity in its entirety. Going wasn't a question of if, it was a matter of when and how I would be getting there.

As a special treat -- as if to make this concert a veritable blast from the past -- JEW called out of retirement No Knife, a long since departed band who had toured with JEW in their Static-Clarity days.

It would be rare to see any band play a show where they play one of their entire albums, but it would seem even more rare for them to play one of their least commercially successful albums. The Death Cab Transatlanticism tour? Forget about it. The Weezer Pinkerton tour? In my wildest of dreams. But here was Jimmy Eat World -- truly the people's band -- giving their die-hard fans a once in a lifetime experience.

No Knife's performance was without fault; anyone would have been surprised that they had not played together in six years. As amazing as it was to hear JEW play all of Clarity, I was surprised to notice how much I enjoyed their seven song encore, which was comprised of the 7" single "What Would I Say to You Now", "No Sensitivity" from the their split with Jebidiah and hits from their successive albums. I came for Clarity but ended up enjoying the other songs just as much, and at times, more.

How rare it is to find a band that cares about their fans and their music like Jimmy Eat World does. While I can't say that JEW has overthrown =w= as my favorite-of-all-time band, in regards to musical integrity and how they treat their fans, they've definitely earned much more respect than Weezer ever will. That is, until Weezer does the blue album/Pinkerton tour. But I won't hold my breath for that one.

The Payoff

Before I came here to California one of the things I was most excited for was to go to legit band shows. Having spent the better part of last year in Idaho, I've definitely been hurting for quality live music. However, due to long hours at work, few show-going friends, and not many familiar bands passing through the Bay Area, I went almost three months without going to a show. So, when I found out Jimmy Eat World would be coming to San Jose, I resolved to go, even if it was in the middle of the last week of tax season.

Last night I snuck out of work early, changed into show-appropriate attire in my car, and drove to the venue, a small arena on the San Jose State University campus. After taking a leak in the men's room (in which two women oddly-but-not-so-oddly-in-a-Northern-California-type-of-way also decided to relieve themselves) I hiked down the steps to the floor. I was somewhat late but still early enough to catch the end of Dear and the Headlights' set. And I'm glad I did because who should I see on stage rocking bass? None other than Rajiv Patel.

I was surprised to seem him but at the same time I wasn't. In an effort to get his attention before he packed up and walked off stage, I quickly became "that guy" and forced myself to the front. After a few minutes of yelling and dirty looks I finally got his attention. He packed up his gear and joined my on the floor, scoring me a bottle of water and orange. Paramore played well ... not my style, but they played well, even if their singer did rip off lyrics from "One Armed Scissor" by At The Drive-In.

For Jimmy Eat World I started off on the floor but after two songs Rajiv snuck me backstage.
When I was on the floor, it seemed that Jim had lost his man boobs; but watching from the side of the stage, much closer, I could see they were still there and, in fact, larger than ever.

I really enjoyed the set -- Big Casino, Sweetness, Crush, Dizzy, Always Be, Blister (glad Tom is still singing, as rarely as he does), Work, Your New Aesthetic, Authority Song, Here It Goes, Kill, Just Tonight, A Praise Chorus, Pain, Bleed American, Get It Faster, and Let It Happen ... for the encore: Hear You Me (Rajiv and I rocked together arm-in-arm on this one), Futures, and I almost thought I would go the entire show without hearing The Middle, but alas, it was their final song. It would've been awesome to hear a Static Prevails song, but I wasn't expecting it so it wasn't a big loss.

Thanks to Rajiv, I definitely got a bit more than I bargained for this time around ... but having seen them eleven times before, I see it simply as the payoff for my years of devoted fandom.