I meant to be inspiring, but you'll probably just be bummed...

I've been trying to write a blog post for a couple weeks now. The most pertinent and only thing I could think about writing was the experience that my band mates, friends and I had in Japan. I even titled it My Earthquake Day, pulled out of the Harvey Pekar library.

But I'm stalled. There is something about telling this story in a public forum that makes me feel cheap, which in turn makes me feel like I'm belittling the situation. I feel like my part to play was personal, and any sort of pity party is seemingly inappropriate. Yes I was in the quake, yes I thought I was potentially not going to make it out of that situation. But I left 3 days later, no one I knew was hurt or killed, and I returned to my furnished and cozy apartment. I'll leave the fear mongering and sensationalism with CNN and try and internalize it differently. But it's hard.

Because of who I am, I'm quick to see in this only further proof of the randomness and devastation that humans are subjected to. The concept of mortality mixed with the ever present truth that it can happen at any moment. It's enough to drive anyone to insanity, or religion, take your pick. But this is a part of myself I've been trying to fight forever, this inherent notion to focus on the negative, and convincing myself the worse case scenario is inevitable.

In an effort to be positive and push away the depression of the situation, sans my looming existential crisis, I'm holding onto two things. Watching the civility and respect of the Japanese during the situation was, and is, inspiring. I was close and privy to much of the situation during 9/11, and was surprised then by how much selflessness and humanity can come out of a populous during a tragedy. The way people conducted themselves and continue to is admirable, especially with all the finger pointing and politics involved at this point. They haven't let go of their core values, and obviously won't, even in the face of death.

Also, the first two mornings after the quake, while still in Tokyo, I woke up and had never been so excited to open my eyes. The simple act of rising was a huge relief. Every time REM is over, and the brain starts waking the body up again, is a gift. The typical pessimists perspective is that everyday is one step closer to death. When in reality, it's another gift in a series of gifts we're given through our life if we just...keep waking up. Every day can be the catalyst for change, and putting something off until tomorrow might never happen. Just saying.

I don't plan to wear this as some sort of badge of honor. I'd like to view it as a horrible catastrophe, one where by a simple twist of luck I remain to wake up and do dumb shit everyday, and those people can't. And that's my gift.

Queensland Insomnia...

I love Rocky 4. If you don't, well, you're probably fine as a person, but I essentially want nothing to do with you. *Shrug, sorry* Come on, through the end of movie 3 into the 4th, Mr. Balboa loses his two best friends. Mickey, his trainer, confidant and friend. Then Apollo, his former enemy turned great friend and mentor, was killed unmercifully by the Russian in the ring. He also goes against the wishes of his family to fight Drago and nearly ruins the family dynamic. On top of these personal obstacles, he also faces the risk of further severing US/Russian ties and really bringing the Cold War to an apex.

Instead of even considering failure, he trains in the wintry tundra, finishing said training by scaling a snow covered mountain face. He knocks out the Russian, reuniting his family and then brokers peace relations between two hateful countries mid-ring with an uneducated and bloodied speech, cloaked in an American flag. Yeah I know, it's awesome.

It's midnight and I'm sitting in a hotel room in Brisbane, Australia. I tried my hardest not to sleep and keep a normal schedule, as per most recommendations for jet lag. But I nodded off like a heroin addict at 6 and slept like a rock. Now I'm up and writing and watching Stallone hoping I can get tired again soon. If I can't, hopefully I stumbled upon a marathon and parts 5 and 6 will be forthcoming.

I've been thinking a lot today about the unique position we're in and how I'm a fool not to count my lucky stars and really try to enjoy these moments presented to me. It's quick to lose perspective in anything, routine and normalcy can happen if you repeat any day long enough. But, what the fuck, most people in the world don't get to have these types of experiences and memories. For that, I thank the random order for sparing me and continuing to letting me wake up everyday and hooking me up the way it did. And just like Lou Gehrig said, I feel like the luckiest man on the face of the earth. (I just realized in the bathroom that this can be construed as bragging, it's really not designed to, more to express how thankful I am.)

I worked really hard, don't mistake that, but a hundred variables had to fall into place, and somehow they did. Good thing too, because I am a very talented pizza delivery driver, but 6 straight days on the road slinging grease can really eat my soul, especially since the radio broke in my car.

Yes!! Here comes the Russian winter training montage, arguably the best in film history, I can't pass this up. See you!

Generally unfocused meandering....

"Don't sweat the petty things, and don't pet the sweaty things" - George Carlin

I just decided to drink another cup of coffee rather than make breakfast, again. I heard small meals throughout the day is the way to keep your metabolism up, but it just seems to take so much damn effort. Benjamin Franklin wasn't into food, he thought people wasted too much time on the affair and he only ate out of bare necessity. That's either really cool or proof of his alcoholism. Not sure.

Anyway, things are going well. Gaslight is practicing and getting ready for the Australia and Japan tours. We've also had a couple of Spiro Agnew practices the last few weeks. Both bands have new songs and I'm having a blast playing drums right now ... I missed beating them. The dog, Wallace, is a wild man. Reckless and a pretty big pain in the ass. But, also really cute and probably my best friend now, we talk a lot.

Also watching about 10 hours of basketball and films everyday. My boys, Rutgers, upset Villanova last night with a time expiring 4 point play. The crowd stormed the court and brought hope for a possible NIT invitation, first since the Quincy Douby era ended. The Nets are, you know, the Nets. Been taking the PATH down to a lot of games at the Rock in Newark. Great stadium, and the addition of giving the Nets mascot "Sly the Fox" a midget counterpart named "Mini Sly" has been a nice touch. Yanks are having an interesting off-season, I'm not throwing in the towel to the revamped Red Sox yet, still a year of baseball to be played before I'm declaring them AL East champ.

A few movies I've recently seen I recommend....

- The Fighter - Christian Bale and Amy Adams killed it, I've never wanted a character to win so bad at the end, even Rocky.
- Sugar - A "Van Sant" style movie about a Dominican kid who comes up to the states to try and make it in baseball. A little slow, but shot really well and tells a story that needs to be told.
- Lemmy Documentary - Went into the city to see this at a 20 seat theater. He's kind of a dirt bag (see German WWII paraphernalia and abandoned children), but really inspiring, nonetheless. The way he lives these days is something everyone should be privy to.
- A Serious Man - Coen Brothers movie about a series of odd mystical events for a suburban Jewish professor and his family in the 50's. My dad said he studied his Bar Mitzvah from a record, as well.
- Anchorman - I've seen this possibly over 300-400 times, until something is better, it will always make the list.

I really am a nerd, regardless what my girlfriend says...

I went down to Atlantic City for a friendly celebration last weekend. Gambling is a lot of fun for me. I've always had a mild obsession with numbers, statistics and probabilities. Which would explain why I enjoy betting so much. Even though I'm still intimidated to sit at a Poker table with the lifers....one day. But I don't nerd out on anything more than sports stats, ask anyone I know. There is just something about the cumulation of statistics through the course of a season, and then those added onto a players career numbers that just gives me a major hard-on. I know, I know...what are you gonna do, you can't fight what you like. My Mother even used to buy me an almanac every year, for, dare I say, enjoyable reading.

The truly nerdiest accomplishment, may have been my childhood video game tendencies. While most kids were slashing dragons in Zelda and/or being interactive with friends. I was compiling statistics in EA Tecmo Bowl, the first legit football game for Nintendo. Now this was prior to the advent of in-game and season statistics for video games. So I, as a true obsessive weirdo kid, would play each play, put down my controller, and log the stats. Then again, and again, and again. At the end of the game, I would add it up to have full game statistics, and at the end of 16 games, I added it together for full season statistics. Quarterback percentage and yards per carry included. I was 10. I won't even begin to explain the system I had for the NY Times Sunday baseball insert.

These tendencies are odd I realize, and as an adult, I've come up with one theory. To me, life has very few, if any, certainties. I remember my Father saying that it's a classic bout of the "thinker". If you can understand both sides to any situation, with a pragmatic mind and compassionate heart, the whole world turns to grey. Actually I just said it way more poetically, but thanks for the idea Pop.

But I agree, I have a hard time taking sides. In a debate I can merely play devil's advocate because there is always a section of my conscious that believes and agrees with my opponent. Sometimes, in the case of racists and murderers and Eagles fans, it's a really small section.

So my theory is this, I think I take solace in the certainty of statistics. Black and white. Winner and loser. Numbers. Certainty. There is no debate, somebody lost, the numbers tell you what happened, and you can't argue it. It's so comforting, and with that and a mild sedative, it can soothe my savage beast for hours on end. It's also aided in writing drum parts, organizing records and an extremely systematic way of eating an omelette, potatoes and toast meal from a diner.

I can't believe a nerd of my caliber opened for Social Distortion. Jokes on you world!!

So damn cold...

"I like these cold, gray winter days. Days like these let you savor a bad mood" - Bill Watterson

Man, it is really, really cold. This isn't just your run of the mill northeast winter, it's bitter, face pinching cold. Yesterday the low was 2 degrees Fahrenheit with the wind chill. For anyone reading this from across the pond, that's -17 degrees Celsius.

Usually I tout the upside of winter. As an allergy ridden nerd, much like Paul from the Wonder Years, I appreciate cool, crisp, pollen free air. I love snow, it looks cool, is super fun and doesn't even make noise when it lands and blankets the world in white. I also think that people who have perpetual sun don't understand something about the world. There is a lot to say about the character of a man/woman who's survived through many winters. Waking up every morning in a warm bed and house, dressing so no inch of your skin is exposed and entering the frozen tundra to scrape and chip an inch of ice off your car just to leave for your commute will give a person, to borrow a phrase from the tribe, Chutzpa.

I once wore shorts through the winter on a bet. Granted they were my shorts in 1993, which effectively meant they were pants made for an overweight midget with pockets that could fit a gallon of milk cut a foot below the knee. But I did it, with relative ease.

Now, shit, I'm way more of a sissy about it. I guess age has lessened my tolerance. I even turned down tickets to a Giants game this year because my head told me that my couch and TV were way more comfortable and it wasn't worth the hassle. That is a 30 year old thing to do. Back in the day I would've been a 1/5th of whiskey deep before kick-off and hurling throwback NJ trash talk to unsuspecting Redskins fans all afternoon.

Maybe if they didn't build a giant, oddly colored mall with an indoor ski slope where the parking lot used to be. Then charge $25 to make people park at an office complex in Secaucus where pre-game beer and sandwiches are banned. To then take 2 shuttles to the stadium to pay hundreds more dollars for the privilege of entering a drab, gray, corporate shit box. I know this blog started about winter, but I truly hate the new Giants stadium. So sad.

Bored on MLK day...

It's MLK day, which means an excuse to do nothing and watch loads of daytime basketball on TV right? I made a delicious batch of challah French toast and sat down in front of the tube, but since the Nets are so hard to watch and the Knicks can't defend their way out of a paper bag, I had a lot of time to think.

Sometimes the civil rights movement feels like two hundred years ago. I was born in the 80's and I'm from the North and the struggles I heard about in school never felt current and applicable. In reality, my parents were in their early twenties when the Civil Rights Act (1964) and Voting Rights Act (1965) were passed into legislation. That was the apex of the movement and it was only 15 years before I was born!

I try to remember that timeline when I get frustrated with the state of race relations in this country and need a positive outlook. The movement is still far away from its ultimate goal, for sure. But at least it's getting better, at least some people learned, and at least things that were commonplace not more than 50 years ago are now taboo and widely considered over the line. As they should be. For fucks sake, there were separate water fountains in the south when my folks were getting married...that's super scary.

Fairly recently I read something that said the mainstream media has it in their best interest to tout the King agenda and his peaceful form of resistance. Their point was that the counter movements, particularly the Black Panther Party, played a large role in the formation of change but don't make contemporary history as often due to their progressive, and often violent policies. The whole COINTELPRO fiasco was proof positive of that, in a way. The government was so terrified about these movements organizing together and having a unified voice that the FBI intervened with dangerous, and almost childish policies to try and incite anger between the groups.

This isn't meant to degrade what Dr. King did in any way, because his perspective and ability to lead were absolutely necessary. But it's possible that completely pacifist movements often fail to cause the reaction they need to. Sometimes the mix of ideas and action might really be the only way.

I want to believe in pacifism, but I'm not certain if the entire concept is naive....what do you guys think??

Cliche part 2, dog ownership...

So to add insult to cliche injury, my girlfriend and I got a dog. A black Scottie named General Wallace. In all honesty she's been hounding me, (that's right, I did it)... for almost a year. I was fighting it due to added money, responsibility, and my general lack of interest in doing anything worthy with my free time. She also wanted a French bulldog, and I happen to have an ethical issue with their breeding and general "Williamsburg" nature. I thought they were tough, but their owners typically fill the undersized genes and over sized scarves demographic. Classic macho to sissy juxtaposition. Almost like 3 of the most famous sporting anthems being written by blatant homosexuals.

But now that the little guy is here, I'm happy we did it. In my estimation, most of the people in America have to settle for 3 things to stay sane in adulthood. Addiction, parenthood, or religion. I'm already addicted, and that only keeps me mildly sane, with a small side dish of murky apathy and paranoia. Religion, well...that ship probably sailed a long time ago, bearing some sort of awakening or rapture. And now comes parenthood. Actually being responsible for a life that cannot be responsible for itself. I had some experience with my nieces, but if this dog gets fucked up, it's on us. I guess with that comes a great pride, sense of responsibility, and hopefully some sort of warm and gushy feeling when he licks my nose or something.

As a 17 year vegetarian who typically adheres to the policy of "don't fuck with the natural order of animal and man", I begrudgingly accept the role of "master", for I don't enjoy telling once wild animals how to behave. I think it should roam, chase and maybe even kill without human intervention. But domesticity does exist, and now I sit in my living room, listening to the cries of an 8 week old puppy who desperately needs me to feed it, love it and sort of treat it like an equal...with a shit ton of rules and regulations added on. Human babies are a handful, but at least they don't feast on their own excrement. Also, they grow up and hopefully start taking care of you, dogs grow up and then die. Too dark?