What It Is

Grammy Magic

2008-02-11T10:01:00.000-06:00

Last night's Grammy show was easily the best in years. Tons of surprises, but the real surprise was no posers.

No latest indie rock posers, no hooligan rappers, no pop tarts. The only possible exception was Rihanna, who is not exactly a no-talent in my book, but easily the least talented person to take the stage last night. Thankfully, her irritating rainy day hip-pop number "Umbrella" did not take home a win.

Everybody that hit that stage was the real deal. An actual talented, original musician or singer. How often does that happen? The tributes to stars of the past were ironically a breath of fresh air. Good Golly Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis!!!! Were there performances up to the level they set in their primes? No, but the fact that they can even get up there and do that well into their 70's (or 80s? I don't even know how old they are) is incredible. Tina Turner too! And, let's not forget John Fogerty. Creatively, he seems to be mining the same vein that won him success 30 years ago, but give him credit for still having the voice and the chops to pull it off live.

My least favorite act of the night was Alicia Keys. Yeah, yeah, I know she's talented. She's "classically trained." That means that she took piano lessons. And yeah, she's got a pretty good voice. But for all that she is touted as a creative person who writes (or, more often co-writes) her own songs, I just don't see the talent on that end. I've never been the least bit impressed with her songs. Well produced, and somewhat catchy (usually not that catchy even) but no lyrical wisdom, no clever wordplay, no memorable melodies, no nothing. Just overproduced hip-pop balladry. If she wasn't drop dead gorgeous (which she is), she wouldn't even have a record deal, much less all this attention. That having been said, she is at least a real musician and a talented person, worthy of a little respect and miles above the Britney's and Rihanna's of the world. But her arrogant stance and attitude comes through far more clearly than any artistic intent she may have. Fergie is a better singer, but has the grace to show a little humility. Speaking of which, did not Fergie and John Legend show how it is done? One piano, one voice and a little magic.

Will.I.Am's little mashup seemed to go over the heads of the crowd, but it was really cool and well done. His general goofiness makes a lot of people underestimate how talented he is. The goofiness is an act, a persona that expresses a worldview he wants to get across, and it's a shame some people just don't get it. "Let's Get Retarded" is his anthem, and he recorded that with more intelligence than goes into a dozen 50 Cent CDs. Or for that matter, Alicia Keys CDs.

Speaking of arrogant asses, Kanye actually impressed me for a change. He's still prone to making grandiose statements about his importance in the music world, and he is still a big baby when he doesn't win (he refused to make any statements to the press afterwards, presumably because he lost the "Best Album" award to Herbie Hancock), but to be fair, his performance was a highlight, and he had the decency to acknowlege the talent of other nominees, as well as the grace to laugh when Vince Gill took a playful jab at him from the stage. (Gill, after accepting his Grammy from presenter Ringo Starr, said, "I just got a Grammy from a Beatle. You had that yet, Kanye?" I still think he's too arrogant for his own good, but I'm genuinely sorry for him for the loss of his mother,(I cheered when he, when thanking his mother while they tried to play him off the stage, said "it would be in good taste to stop the music right now.") and it seems to have humanized him just a bit. I like Kanye better today than I did yesterday, and I really would like to see him make good on his creative ambitions.

And in conclusion, AMY WINEHOUSE, AMY WINEHOUSE, AMY WINEHOUSE, AMY WINEHOUSE!!!
The performance was great, the thankfulness and surprise was genuine, and I'm thrilled to see the girl looking healthier than she has in a while. I hope the media gives her a break. She's only 24 years old. Go Amy! I want to hear your next album. Here's hoping that she'll be better off after the rehab she refused for so long. Maybe next album, it'll be crack and booze she'll say "NO, NO, NO" to.

There was more, but I don't have time to go into it. The best Grammy broadcast for quite a while! Let's hope they don't screw it all up next year.

Motivational Pukers

2008-01-29T13:07:00.001-06:00

After a recent company meeting, where they trotted out this motivational speaker to try and get us to buy into the corporate notion that we all have to achieve our highest potential to be happy (and maximize profits), I came to a simple, inescapable conclusion.

I hate motivational speakers.

There are a certain percentage of people who are natural over achievers, meaning that they are internally motivated to try and wring the maximum "success" out of their lives (as opposed to, oh, I don't know, say, living their lives). Maybe they are super competitive, super greedy or just feel like Daddy never loved them enough, so they have to overcompensate. And some of them are just business adrenaline junkies. That's those people, and if that high energy, maximum effort lifestyle fulfills, them, I think that's just dandy. I don't dislike these people. At all.

Unless they decide that everybody else should be just like them and drink the high achiever koolaid which says that you are a "loser" if you're not making 6 figures and living the high roller lifestyle.

The simple truth of the matter, though, is that most of us have modest ambitions. We all would like to make a little more money, dress a little nicer, have a newer car, etc. and most of us achieve limited versions of those goals as time and careers play out, but big time success is not really on the agenda for the majority of people. Not that it can't be done, but that everybody can't do it. Somebody has to do the kind of work that I do. Somebody has to sell copiers and run printing shops and keep the books and answer the phones. For the most part, the people who get the big success are the ones who practically kill themselves to get it. They work 60-70 hour weeks. They spend years getting advanced degrees. Also, not coincidentally, lots of the most successful people are particularly talented in the fields within which they work.

So along comes some motivational schmendrick who wrote a book, or had a successful business selling real estate pyramid plans or defrauding old people, and has subsequently been able to convince various businesses that they can help increase productivity and boost morale by giving the employees a metaphysical shot in the arm, a success mantra that will lead to more money, more happiness and true success!!!

By and large, they all preach some version of the "positive thinking mantra." "If you can see it, you can be it!"

The idea is that if you believe in yourself enough, you can do anything. That is the biggest load of crap in history, and is, not coincidentally, the precise reason that the auditions for American Idol are a hideous blight on the ears of a gullible viewing public. Okay, good entertainment, but not a recipe for success.

I'll tell you what. If you own a company with a bunch of slacker employees and you want me to give them the "secret" to success, then I will give it to them.

I will gather them all together, ask management to leave the room and I will tell them this. "Be smart, be lucky, and work your ass off. Oh, and it also helps if you have a wealthy relative to bankroll your business." There, that took about 15 seconds.

Then, I will invite them over to a nearby bar, where I will buy them drinks with my hefty appearance fee, and we will make fun of their weaselly corporate lackey bosses. This will do much more for their happiness and self esteem than an hour of some dillweed telling them what amounts to "you're not good enough if you aren't running (or owning) a Fortune 500 company by the time you're 40."

My message is, if you're good enough for you, you're good enough for me. Let's get a beer.

Motivational Pukers

2008-01-29T13:07:00.000-06:00

Same Song, Second Verse

2008-01-17T15:05:00.000-06:00

Time, indeed does fly. I'm not really worried about the surfing. If it happens, it happens, but I am continuing to pursue other passions. The main thing in life, as we are forced to live it in the modern world, is not to be swallowed by your job. You've got to have hobbies, pursuits, minor obsessions, avocations, passions, interests, anything so that you have an identity beyond "standard suburban cubicle drone."

But, if you have a wife and a decent lifestyle that you want to keep, you've got to work. I missed out on the inheritance lottery and the regular lottery is just a tax on people who are bad at math, so what remains for me is a regular job.

Which requires me to stop typing rather than get fired. Bye for now.

Time flies like a mofo

2007-08-17T09:36:00.000-05:00

Since last we blogged (this is as in the royal "we." Either that or I have a mouse in my pocket) I have lived through nearly another summer, went to Disneyworld, lost a little weight, played a few gigs, learned a few songs, and still... freakin' still have not gotten back on a surfboard!

I am a miserable failure at expanding my life experiences according to a carefully concocted plan for self improvement.

But at least I'm thinking about it and I'll get back down to the coast in September. Rawk!

Perusing other blogs

2007-05-22T14:54:00.000-05:00

You know how I hardly ever post anymore? Okay, let me back up. Before I started a blog here, I had another blog/journal/online diary/commentary whateveryouwanttocallit page. I updated there (it's gone now) off and on for at least a couple of years. And then I stopped, and started and stopped and started, etc.
I suppose I've had lots of the same motivations to spew out my thoughts online as a lot of other people. We all want to be heard, to feel that our thoughts might just matter to someone other than those who love us whether we write anything or not. It feels good to know that our observations and thoughts are intrinsically interesting to someone other than ourselves.
So, since I've bothered to hope that other people would read what I write, I feel it only fair to go and read what some other folks write about here on blogspot. And it makes me sad. So I'm going to say something that some people may not want to hear.

YOU ARE BORING, most of you. And you know who are the most boring of all? Wannabe writers, poets, etc. And I believe I know what the problem (other than an intrinsic lack of talent) is. Too many people write because they want to write something. Perhaps I'm not saying this correctly. They want to have written something. They want to think of themselves as a writer. They likethe idea of being a writer.

But here's the thing. They have nothing to say.

If you are thinking about writing, please, please for the love of all that is not mind numbingly, "stick a fork in my eyeball to distract me from this torture" boring, consider for a moment why you have decided to write something. If the answer is anything other than "I have something to say that others might find interesting, funny or informative" then please don't do it.

Just don't do it. I thank you, and my so far forkless eyeballs thank you.

Yes indeedy!

2007-05-21T12:56:00.000-05:00

yeah, I never post here. Also, I haven't even tried to surf for months, but I'm still worth reading, and the band is still going strong. We're playing this Friday, and have a couple of more things booked.

It's official! I'm a Barney!

2006-09-06T08:12:00.000-05:00

Barney, kook, call me whatever, but I did get in the water with a surfboard for the first time this weekend. The big question of course, is "did you catch a wave."
My response? What waves? The Texas surf was flatter than a 12 year old gymnast this weekend! Actually, I've never seen such flat, glassy water in my life, and I've been to Galveston 100 times.
Don't get me wrong, I tried, and I got just far enough to know that yes, I can in fact get up on a surfboard when an actual wave presents itself. The catch was that the double over-ankle waves were breaking approximately 15 feet before the center fin started dragging the sand.
However, it was still a great experience and I did accomplish quite a bit that will help me out on the next trip (the one with maybe some, you know, waves).
My cousin, who was giving me the lessons, actually said that this was sort of a good thing, that I was forced to work on the real basics (paddling and popping up to a sitting position and sitting comfortably on the board without tumping over) so that when I do get out in surfable conditions, I won't have to waste as much time getting out there.
And although I was dissappointed that I didn't get the opportunity to ride waves, I was very encouraged by the difference between my first few minutes on the board and the way I handled it by the end of the day.
It's a slow ride, but I'll get there.

In the meantime, Music

2006-08-23T15:10:00.000-05:00

Since I can't practice surfing until Labor Day weekend, I have to continue on with my other main interest, which would be music. My currently unnamed band (we have played under the names "Fluid" and "Happy Shatner" within the last 6 to 8 years) is in rehearsals with a new drummer, and are in the process of completely revamping our setlist.
What that means is that we dumped about 2/3 of our songs and are learning a whole bunch of new stuff. Which means a lot of work.
See, we have always been a variety band. We have played everything from Merle Haggard to Tool, with the occasional blues tune, or 80s retro or whatever. Basically, we were a jack of all trades sort of band. But after an 8 or 9 month layoff after we lost our previous drummer, we're trying to get hooked up with a new booking agent who will get us into some of the better bars around town. What, exactly does that mean? It means dump everything that isn't rock, pretty much, which is fine with me, but, as I mentioned, will involve a lot of work.
We're spreading the list out over the rock tunes of the last decade or so, with some very current stuff like Green Day, Jet, and The Strokes bumping up against some Pearl Jam, Foo Fighters, Lenny Kravitz and whatnot. The Gin Blossoms snuck in there, as have Violent Femmes, Ramones, Black Crowes, Toadies, the Cure and quite a few others.
After we have a name and some bookings, I'll put up some show dates and keep you posted. Both of you.

laters, pretty people.

I seek the stoke!

2006-08-14T13:42:00.000-05:00

So what, do you think, would possess an outwardly normal forty-something man to suddenly decide, practically out of nowhere, to learn to surf. The answer is that it has something to do with something called a "raison d'etre." This is a French term which, loosely translated, means "what is this crap and why should I care."
Actually, the meaning has more to do with having a reason to get up in the morning, but I enjoy attributing odd things to the French, just as a matter of course. Now, don't get me wrong. I have lots of things to motivate me to get up and face a new day (every single day so far, for, by my calculations, over 15,000 times up to this point). I have a reasonably good job which isn't really all that bad. I have an awesome wife, a great kid, a nice house, my health, a band, and lots of interests to keep my brain engaged.
For lots of people, those things provide all the satisfaction they would ever need. And if that were all I had and all I could have, it would be enough. But I can have more and be more, because I can do more. So I think I'd like to.
Lots of folks yammer on and on about happiness. What it is and how to get some of it. Let's get the cliches out of the way, shall we? I think most of us agree that it is a journey, not a destination, that it comes from inside, not outside, that money doesn't buy it and in any event, it cannot be stored up and saved for a rainy day.
The non-cliche is that everybody's different. What makes you happy might bore me to tears (or vice-versa). I mean, if happiness is simply a sense of well being and contentment, I'm not so much interested. Cows are contented. And they never seem to have a problem with constipation. And they hardly ever need therapy.
But, let's just say that I aspire to more than just another pasture, even if it is a bit greener than the one I started in.
For me, it's true that, at least to some degree, happiness is contentment, but paradoxically enough, contentment (for an intellligent human being) requires effort. It's kind of like the difference between fun and joy. I mean, fun, is, well, fun. Most people are pretty much pro-fun, I think. But joy is different, and better. To really experience joy, you have to immerse yourself in whatever you're doing.
The short version (yeah, yeah, I know it's a bit late for that) is that my concept of happiness is that sort of active contentment, mixed with genuine accomplishment, satisfying relationships, a spiritual awareness and liberal applications of joy. You know, some active actual exhileration mixed in with the contentment.
This is where the twin concepts of surfing and flow come in. If you're not familiar with the concept of "flow" it's the experience of total involvement in the task at hand. It's what athletes often describe as bing "in the zone," and, I believe, what surfers refer to as "stoke."
I seek the stoke. I'm reminded of another prescription for happiness I've heard that I think is pretty close to on the money. What you need to be happy, it is said, is "something to do, someone to love, and something to look forward to."
Right now, surfing is one of the things I look forward to. It's not the only thing, the McGuffin upon which all my dreams and the plot of my future hangs. I still look forward to playing and accomplishing some things with my band and my songwriting. I look forward every day to getting home and seeing my wife. I sometimes anticipate the liquid gold of a beer going down my neck like a frenchman anticipates a liason with his mistress.
But I think that the thing about surfing that has me so wound up in anticipatory fervor is the pure physical nature of it. The culture, the image, the lifestyle that are bound up with the surfing mythos are only icing on the cake. It is the essence of the action of mastering a skill so that it can be done without conscious thought that feeds the real need.
And in the meantime, I'll be taking my runs, pushing the weights, doing some surf oriented calesthenics and feeding the anticipation. This is my something to look forward to. And in just a couple of weeks, it will become, if all goes well, the stoke.
I'll have some more questions and I appreciate everybody who has stopped by so far. I'm really digging on all the surfer blogosphere that I've found thus far. So stop by and say hi, and correct me if I say something stupid.

laters,

Dancing About Architecture

2006-08-09T14:22:00.000-05:00

It has been said (by some jazz cat, maybe Miles Davis) that talking about music is like dancing about architecture, and I think maybe the same could be said for blogging about surfing. When that guy said that, he was pointing out that there is a deep emotional and spiritual dimension to music that defies verbal description, and I imagine the same is true of surfing.
But people do try. I mentioned in my last post the cosmic surfer dudes that sexwax philosophical about the spiritual connection with the ocean. A new blog buddy I discovered (also from here in Texas) left a friendly comment seconding the opinion that there is a deeper dimension and connection with nature that is one of the factors that makes surfing such an obsession with lots of people.
But he also brought up another factor that enters into my fascination. The Lifestyle. The sun, sand, wind and waves. The hammocks. The bare bones adventure trips. The comraderie of brother surfers. And yes, the beer.
And, as a young single guy, he has the opportunity to explore that territory to its fullest limits, if he's willing to make the sacrifice of the presumably more comfortable lifestyle afforded by a regular job in a regular city. Meanwhile, I am 42 years old and married, left at this point of my life with more responsibilities than dreams.
And that's okay. I'm healthy and in good physical shape. I have a lot to be grateful for, and don't think for one minute that 42 year olds have no dreams left at all. Even better, experience has taught me that it is better to have a goal than to have a dream. If you only knew how many lives have been crushed under the weight of the dreams that never came true, and instead settled down on their shoulders, big disappointing boulders of bitter regret. Now, more so than when I was a younger man, I think things through a little better, and I make plans with a definite path to fulfillment. The dreams themselves are usually a bit smaller, but infinitely more attainable. And I love my wife to a degree that leaves any sort of resentment completely out of the picture. My dreams have to include hers as well, so the cold fact is that there will be a lot of missed waves in my future, but I'll still do what I can, and enjoy what I do.
For me, the fascination with the full on surfer's lifestyle will likely remain one exercized from afar. I can chat online with people who pop around from San Onofre to Peru like its no big deal. I can watch surf movies with surfers carving up the tubes from Australia to Indonesia. I can ride my couch in a surfer's crouch and keep the tube tuned to Fuel TV. I can even listen to my Donovan Frankenrieter, Jack Johnson and Slightly Stoopid CDs. All of those things have the potential to make me feel like I'm somehow connected with a group of people who know something the rest of the world doesn't.
It's the same with my band. Just because I can't be a rock star doesn't mean I can't act like one on the weekend. I have a piece of that lifestyle, that aesthetic, that feeling inside me, and it's no less real just because I wear shiny lace up shoes and a button down shirt from Monday to Friday. I can still wail on the mic and turn my telecaster up to 11. And nobody said I have to wear shoes when I'm not at work.
But until Labor Day Weekend, when my first surfing lesson is scheduled, I won't really be a full on part of anything in the wide world of surfing. I won't really know anything. But when that time comes, I want to know as much as I can, so that I can take the maximum advantage of the time I have to get out there.
And I may be a bit premature with my blogging about something I haven't really started yet, but I'm learning some interesting things in the lead up, and hopefully, I'll have some interesting things to say from an outsider's viewpoint. I think it will really be interesting to see how (or if) my viewpoint changes after I get out there and make the goal a reality.
After all, it may be a little crazy, but nobody ever said that you can't dance about architecture if you want to.

A Long Journey Begins

2006-08-08T14:18:00.000-05:00

So, here it is. What this blog is going to be about. How it started, where it's going and who I am.

Like you care. Who are you anyway, and what makes you think that I want you reading all these details about my personal life and deepest feelings? Oh, yeah, there is that other question. Do you, the reader, actually exist outside my imagination? No one knows this blog is even here yet, and if they did, they wouldn't know how to find it.

Anyway, that's all as may be (as the Brits would say). What it is, is this. I am an adventurous guy who never gets to go on any real adventures, so I'm working on making me some. Not to be confused with getting me some, which is a whole other thing. In any event, if I'm going to have any over 40 adventures, I'm going to have to make them myself. Also, there is the fact that as a person approaching mid life, I am no longer so enamoured of those sorts of adventures wherein the inherent risk to life and limb is a primary attraction. That is to say, I would like all of my various body parts and features to remain in place and relatively unscathed. Death and dismemberment is not a rush.

And, while I'm doing this (relatively non-life-threatening-type) adventure seeking, I think it may just help me along in the process if I write about it. I sort of believe that old saying that "the unexamined life is scarcely worth living." Thus, readers, or lack of readers is hardly the point, is it.

Except for this one thing that we humans have in common. We are driven to communicate, to share, to create for the benefit of others, and to seek the feeling that we have in some way connected with others. Some would say that surfing is an extension of that instinct. To connect with a community of like minded people whose greatest desire is to connect with nature. To compete against themselves and the ocean and share with it the power and glory of the universe. Personally, I think that's largely a load of crap. They really want to get an adrenaline rush and check out bikinis. But somewhere within the overblown and pseudo-philosophical ramblings of the surfing gurus that preach the cosmic gospel of the waves is a grain of truth. There is something bigger than ourselves that we connect with when we are surrounded by something as powerful and all encompassing as the ocean.

In any event, I love the feel of my body's movement in any sort of athletic activity and the physical challenge that surfing represents. Beyond that, there is something deeply satisfying in the rythmic crashing of the waves that is both relaxing and exhilarating at the same time. So, at the age of 42, despite living on (or actually, about 80 miles from) a coast known mostly for mushy, inconsistent waves, despite the suspicious glances of my wife, who suspects that I am more interested in prolonging youth than in challenging myself, despite a penchant for run on sentences and poorly thought out plans, I have decided that I am going to learn to surf.

Right now, I'm in the "doing my homework" phase of the process. I suspect that when a lot of people do all the stuff that makes the experienced surfers call them kooks, it's largely because they didn't bother to do some research before hitting the waves. So I've been doing a lot of web research over the last couple of weeks, and this weekend, my wife and I (Who will be referred to in this blog as "E") went to Galveston Island for a two day trip, consisting of one day of laying on the beach drinking beer and one day of touring around the island and stopping into every surf shop we found. We went to Surf Specialties, UnderGround Surf, Ohana Surf Shop, Beach Break Surf Shop, Las O Las Surf Shop among a couple of others whose names I can't remember.

I talked to some nice guys, all of whom were very encouraging and friendly, checked out a few boards, checked on board rentals, bought some board shorts, priced wetsuits and rashguards, talked about "Black Monday", when Clark Foam shut down and drove up prices on boards everywhere, discussed the relative merits of 8' vs 10' boards for beginners and generally soaked up the atmosphere and tried to start learning my way around a completely new culture with its own language, customs, look, and attitude.

My cousin has a 9'+ longboard and he's going to be giving me a lesson over the Labor Day weekend down on the Bolivar Peninsula, so my workouts between now and then will be focused on stuff that will help my paddling strength and endurance.

If you haven't figured out yet that I am taking this seriously, get it now. I am taking this seriously.

On a different tip, I am also a musician in a local Houston area band, and we just got a new drummer, so lots of rehearsals will be going on as we integrate him into the band at the same time as we revamp our set lists to a much more rock oriented sound than we have played in the past. More about that another time.

If you're a surfer or a musician, let me hear from you. Peace.

Second post. With Picture.

2006-08-08T13:52:00.000-05:00

This post has been edited to remove the picture of me. Now, don't get mad. I know that those of you who saw me will miss my devilishly hansome face peering out at you from the depths of this little bloggy thing, but you'll get over it. Also, I know that you're not all vicious, diabolically clever psychopaths who will figure out my secret identity and come and hunt me down like a dog.

But it only takes one of of you (being a vicious, diabolically clever psychopath who will figure out my secret identity and come and hunt me down like a dog).

Also, I promised myself that I would try to maintain my anonymity a bit better on this blog than I did on my last one. Any non-anonymousity (non-anonymouness?) will be carried on via email, not in the uber-public halls of the mighty interbunny. You may no return to ignoring me and go on about your business. Good day. ... I said good day!

First Wave

2006-08-08T13:32:00.000-05:00

I've had one of these bloggy/diary/journally things before, and I even had quite a few readers, but it has been a while since I last posted and in the interim, it seems that my mindset/hobbies/reason for blogging changed, so, I uprooted the old stuff and transplanted myself here. Also, it is my intent to preserve my anonymity a bit more closely here than in my previous digs.

I'll be back to post more and refine the template and profile.