Natalie Imbruglia was my first...

Natalie Imbruglia was my first adventure in one hit wonderdom.  That's right.  I'm that guy that sees a pretty girl in a music video and runs out to by the album.  Two reasons I do this.  The first is obvious but if not, I'll explain.  I do it because I hope that within those precious CD inserts lies more pictures of her.   I know this sounds juvenile and somewhat pervish but I'm only speaking the truth and quite frankly I am probably speaking for many.  If not, live vicariously through me fellow men.    The second reason I do it is the hope that the rest of the CD is whoopass and  I've jumped the gun on what could be the greatest album of the year.  I did this with Nelly Furtado's first album and was ahead of the curve successfully.  Natalie however, taught me a valuable lesson in music, money and life.   Beauty is only skin deep or in this case paper thin.

We've all been there right?   Chumbawumba.  Semisonic.  The SugarHill Gang.  Aha.  Devo.  Deep Blu Something.  Even my hero Patrick Swayze (God rest his soul) is the owner of one.   Now of course these artists had other songs and some were even hits albeit not in America and not mainstream.   And some of the hardcore fans of the aforementioned bands would argue that these bands have made quality underground, original music since these hits.  Some would even say the one hit wonder destroyed them and they rebuilt themselves after the fall.  Whatever the case, we've all been bitten once or twice by the hype of a song which compelled us to run out to Sam Goody's and buy Biz Markie.  Yep.  The album with "Just a friend"?  I own it.

Not to get off topic here even though I am, I actually have very few albums with tons of great songs on them.  Older albums I can definitely do that with.   The Clash's London Calling for example.  The newer stuff seems to filled with a few quality tracks and a lot of filler.   Some of the newer rap/hip hop albums have so many contributions from other artists that it feels a lot like eating a twinkie.  No real substance in there.  It goes without saying that we are a fickle society and one that gets bored easily.  We like a song and then we move on to the next.  Very few songs have the staying power.   I haven't been bitten by the one hit wonder curse in quite some time.  Thanks to Itunes, I buy songs one hit at a time now.  There's a few artists that I love dearly that I'll go that extra buck for.  311, DMB, Beck, The Chili Peppers etc.   What I'm saying is this.  Be selective out there.   Lots of muck amongst some good music out there.  Your tried and trues will guide you but be careful of the Daniel Powders and Vertical Horizons.   And no I didn't buy those.  I did buy Willa Ford though.

The Legend of Law!

There's a legend heard around these parts.   A legend that has been growing strong for over 35 years.   The legend tells the tale of a man born from the seed of Gods mixed with some foolish homeless clown.  It's not important where he came from.   The important thing here is that this legend is no legend.  It's real.  He's real.  I know this because I live with him.   In fact, I've known him for over twenty years.  In those twenty years, I've seen it all.  I can't speak about all but I'd like to take a few paragraphs to describe the 9th wonder of the world, The King of sting, the punk of funk, the foolish heart deluxe, the ubiquitous avalanche of calamity that walks the streets at night!   Where should I begin?

For starters, he keeps tuna in the fridge.  Normal right?  Yeah it's normal to keep tuna in the fridge after its taken OUT of the can.  My friend here keeps tuna in the fridge in the can unopened.   This legend also once tried a can of beer and decided it didn't taste right.   What did he add to this most popular beverage among males and females worldwide?   Orange juice.  Yep.  He took one beverage of choice and added Vitamin C.  His logic?   Trying to stay healthy.   Ahhh..moving on.  We're in the winter months these days and lots of people experience dry skin.  Fact of life.  Cold, dry air causes our skin to lose moisture.  Sometimes it's downright tragic when your  elbows look like a rhinoceros ass.  Personally, I haven't seen my elbows since the last time I wrecked a Huffy.  If you're concerned about ash and dry skin, look no further than my roommate.   He is always equipped with lotion during winter months.  But wait..there's more!   He has lotion during all the months.  All 12 of them.  He carries it with him at all times.  Most recently, he brought a large bottle to a Superbowl party and offered up moisturizer.  I'm certain if you watch him closely, he probably has a bottle in every corner of the house, car, workplace, tool shed, etc.   Who knows?  He could have lotion planted around the city for emergencies.  Fact.

Now this fellow is also the guy I work with on many, many productions and he is the other half of the Cuckoo Lounge.  We do everything from comedic skits, voice overs, music, photography and coloring eggs.  Needless to say, if one is involved in the arts there is a certain degree of dramatic and theatric talent needed.  Law takes it to an entirely different level.    Please read the following exchange below.

Me: What up man?
Law:  (huffing, breathing heavily).   hey man...
Me:   Damn bro.  You ok?
Law:   Yeah man..just tired and.....i just made a decision today.
Me:  Ummm...ok.  what's going on?   (thinking something serious has occurred here)
Law:  I...umm....decided....to cancel the call waiting feature on the home line.

Yeah.  Notice the dramatics there?   He comes in with the urgency but leaves you with the confusion.  I'll give him this.  It's entertaining and we're currently writing a skit about it.   OH and one more thing.  One more thing the truly, truly makes the legend what it is today.  Law is a lover man.  I mean this.  He is a true lover man.   He gives love.   HARD.  If his woman were a pancake and Law was syrup, she would smother.  He lays it down.   He is the most loving, sensitive, caring man I've ever met.  The only other person I've met in my life that was on his level was a lunch lady i befriended in middle school. She also used a lot of lotion.  

My point?   Law is legend and the legend is Law.  Law is also a unique, creative, intelligent cat who doesn't give himself enough credit or recognition.   He's also a kind individual for putting up with my shenanigans over the years because let's be honest here people.  I'm not a Saint and clearly not void of issues.  He actually endorsed this blog and I read him every word.  Except for this one: normal.  He hates that word!

I love you!!!!

I've decided that I love you.  I love you for reading this sentence.  I love you for reading this one as well.  I love mountain dew, lasagna, Blue Moon, my blackberry, windy summer nights, horror films, The Breakfast Club, The Royal Tenenbaums and the Clash.  I also love long car rides, slow cashiers, slow drivers, the waitress that forgot my mayonnaise and the way that my shirt wrinkles after I've ironed it for 20 minutes.  I've hated these things in the past but today I'm grateful that they are in my life and that I'm alive to have them happen. 

Within the last 24 hours, I found out there were two shootings in my hometown that took the lives of people I once knew.  Then in a separate instance, a childhood friend of mine was shot and is in I.C.U.  Now if you've read any of the previous blogs, I thank you immensely.  If you read them and took something from them, you'll realize I like to paint things with a humorous brush and don't wax poetic on things that are too political, too religious or too serious.   The point of writing blogs for me is to shed light on the silly things that cross my mind.   This whole ordeal crossed my mind and has stayed and isn't going anywhere anytime soon.  Aside from the sorrow I feel for the friends and families of the affected, I gained perspective on my own life and realized what we all should.  Life is short and certainly not guaranteed. 

So today I decided to really take a hard look at what's important in my life and who matters the most.  I found it to be a long list which I'm grateful for.  And it's a good thing.  I have a lot to be thankful for and have some lifelong friends that have dealt with my silliness for years.  My family is the best.  No contest.  I'm alive, breathing and walking.  I even have gas in my tank and also in my butt.  (Sorry..had to throw that in there).  So I implore you to look at your life and be thankful for all you have.  I also think we should not want what we don't have but rather want what we already have. 

No matter how piss poor you think your life is, someone out there would gladly trade theirs.   If any of this comes across as wishy washy or cliche, I offer no apologies.  Writing with no regrets today feels damn good and isn't that what life is all about?  Feeling good about what you do and what you have?  If not, get your head out of your ass and look around.  The world waits for no one and time flies by.  As Stephen Stills once sang, "Love the ones you're with".   Gotta go.  Just saw the cleaning lady.  She needs a hug. 

I farted and she left me....

I definitely don't consider myself a ladies man but once in a blue moon, I'll catch a girl giving me the eyeball.  First thing that comes to mind is that I might have a booger on my face or that I'm strange looking or that she might be confusing me for Clay Aiken.   Last night, one of those moments occurred.  WARNING!!!!!!The following scenario should not be mocked, copied or tried in the privacy of your own lives. 

I went to the gym recently and started stretching and for some reason, I stretched for a longer time than usual.  Let's call it a preventive measure.  I got on a treadmill and started my usual slow jog to one the greatest workout songs of all time.  Wait for it.....Rocky IV training montage!  The girl next to me was walking at a fast pace and I could kind of sense she was looking at me.  So I looked over and she smiled and said hi.  I said hello back and maintained my pace while checking my face/nose for boogers.  A small conversation ensued and then she picked up her pace.  I decide to hit the increase speed button to perhaps show her that I too was a runner and of course to keep up. 

 HOWEVER, I ate something before i went to the gym.  Something that, well, causes pressure in the abdomen.   Ok, I'll cut to the chase.  As I ran faster, I farted.  It wasn't loud but then again, that Rocky montage was in mid to high tempo so I couldn't tell if it was audible or not.  What i could tell is that she started slowing down her speed and got of her treadmill with the haste of an unmasked soldier in a gas chamber.  I kept looking at her frantically, hoping, praying that it wasn't me that drove her away.  Maybe she cramped or maybe she got a phone call, text  or something made her stop her glorious pace!   Then I noticed the old man at the end of the row also stopped running.  The look on his face told me that he had been hit with something that he had never smelled in his sixty some years.  He too, hopped off with the urgency. 

Feeling quite shamed at this point, I kept my head straight and kept on truckin'.  About ten minutes went by and another outstanding running song, "She shook me all night long" by AC/DC came on the Ipod.  I picked up my pace.  The Ipod came loose and flew behind me.  ARGGHHH.  I get off and go to pick it up and a pretty young gal picked it up for me.  She hands it to me and says "Here's your...umm..Madonna."   The Ipod wasn't locked and when dropped or thrown will shuffle.   (Yes. I admit.  There's Madonna on there.  Like two songs.  Sue me alright?  It's not Elton John)      I sheepishly said  "Thanks" as she smirked and went to the furthest machine from me.  I got back on the treadmill and started jogging to something more my speed  Jay Z's "Girls, girls, girls".  The lesson here?  Don't eat anything heavy before a run and remove all Madonna songs from your Ipod.   My life won't change though.  I'll be running again tonight.....outdoors. 

I ask you one question. Who are "THEY"?

I just want to know who "they" are.  Everyone refers to "they" but who are "they"?  "They say it's bad to eat foods after 9pm".   You're probably right in listening to them but who are "They"?  Is this the Food and Drug Administration?  Is this Liz Crenshaw from Channel 4 news at 5pm?  Or is this some rogue dietary street gang that will come in your home and beat you senseless with a bag of apples?  I've just recently noticed how many times in a day I hear the word "they". 

I'm starting to wonder if "They" is some sort of secret society that lives underground and whispers things to us through the ground.   Or maybe in our dreams?  Through fortune cookies?  Or maybe these "they" folks are secretly controlling our world one piece of advice at a time?  Whoever "they" are, they seem to have their say in everything.  "They" also say we shouldn't eat lots of bacon, pee in the wind, eat candy for breakfast, stand behind a horse, eat too much tuna, date your best friend's girl etc.  I mean some of it is common sense and we as a whole know most of these things but who are "they" to say anything?   Speaking of "they", they say that your job's IT department monitors everything you do on the internet.  That being said, I better get off here.  That's what "they" say anyways. 

I want to be in a band. Who's with me?

Yep. It's true.  I want to be in a band before it's all said and done.  I don't think i'm alone on this one either.  At one point or another, we've all dreamt of being a rock star.  The money, the fame, the girls (or boys for the girls out there reading this one or for the boys out there reading this.  Wait..what?) and all the perks a rock star often gets.  I think everyone and their mother (including my own) wanted to be a rock star while growing up.  We all grew up pretending to sing, play air guitar or play those imaginary drums.   Well I'm good at air guitar and halfway decent at Rock Band 2 and currently own two guitars which also double has hat racks currently.  Not saying I want to be a rock star but I do want to be in a band at some point in my life.

Maybe I should clarify this.  I don't know how to play an instrument very well.  I know a few chords on the geetar but let's face it.  Everyone does and I don't want to be that guy that claims to be a guitar player and then gets challenged at a bonfire and ends up playing a three chord acoustic version of "Blister in the Sun" by Violent Femmes.  I aspire to be the guy who knows his way around a guitar and back.    I envision myself being in a band and playing for a bbq, someone's birthday party or perhaps a party for someone who graduated from Subway University.  Real by the way.

I'm thinking a band that's a little Bloodhound Gang with a shot of Greenday and stirred with a few straws such as Bob Marley, Disturbed and 311.  Something easy on the ears but has some zing to it.  Who knows?  I'm just dreaming at this point.  I don't have time to shower let alone learn guitar.  Ok I do shower but my point is this band won't be playing anytime soon.  However, if their are aspiring rock stars out there who are looking for an elder statesman in the somewhat near future, i'm your guy.  Ponder it guys and gals.  I'll be playing the six string and can do back up vocals.  We should name it something cool and obscure too.  Something like.....The Jamaican Jerk Chicken Band!!!!!!

Is that a beard you're wearing? Can I have it?

Ever since I was a small boy, I have wanted a beard.  When I was growing up my father had a moustache and still does today.  I'd ask him if it hurt to wear and he'd say "I'm not wearing one, I grew it".  Of course, that set my mind off in a frenzy.  I asked him how he grew it.   He said he just woke up each day and more hair appeared there.  I was even more fascinated!    So each day, I woke up looking for this hair to appear.  Each day, I'd wake up to disappointment.  It got the point where I was asking Santa Claus for a beard.  Instead, he got me a magnifying glass to scour my upper lip, chin and cheeks for those impending hairs. 

My senior year of high school, I decided to grow whatever I could grow out of my lip.  The result?  A very, very poor attempt at a moustache.  For proof, check out my high school pic on Facebook.  My next serious attempt at a moustache or beard was in 2002 during a road trip.  I didn't shave once!  The result?  A patchy mess of a beard.  I kind of looked like I glued hair to my face.  Sexy and a look the ladies couldn't resist but somehow did.  Once i got off the trip, I shaved and life went on. 

Early 2010, I tried a moustache after being told by many beard growers that you must start small.  The moustache actually started coming in but nothing else on my damn face would!  It would reach the stubble length and then fizz out.  I laughed, cried and shaved again.  Now here we are in 2011 and I'm still wanting that beard.  I want a beard and want to grow my hair out at times too. Not sure why.  Maybe I want to be like my Pops.  Maybe it's a challenge to me.  I always like the challenge of things in life.  At any rate, don't be surprised if you see me this summer rockin' a beard and longer hair.  I have a wedding in May so that's likely when I'd decide to start the growth...again.  If it looks bad, tell me.  If it looks good, tell me.  If it's hard to tell me, just drop subtle gifts at my door like razors, shaving cream, mirrors or Miracle Gro.