3.30.12

I saw some things today...

An Asian man in an alley way swapping out CDs on a Discman. I remember when I got my first Discman. It was awesome. I even had that car adapter thing that was like a really really long wire attached to a cassette tape. I doubted they even sold these any more, so I did a google search. You too can own a brand new Sony Discman courtesy of Amazon.com for the low price of $43.96. Sure beats the 200 or so my parents must have paid in the 80s!

A Mercedes parked right in the middle of the crosswalk of the parent pickup line at school. Right in the GD middle. Not the nose of the car creeping into the vicinity, not the bumper sticking over the line a little. I'm talking full on, entire car, straddling the mother freakin' cross walk. I tell you, the people who appear at our children's schools during 'parent pickup' are some of the most untamed beasts our society has to offer. C'mon dude! Your tricked out Mercedes, super slick haircut, buff body and designer sunglasses didn't scream " Pompus Prick" loud enough? You really have to straddle the crosswalk? Really?

A People magazine with a cover photo of Trayvon Martin several years younger than the age he was when he was shot. I get that this is a tragedy, really I do. I think George Zimmerman deserves to be, and will most likely eventually end up, behind bars. If he was a black guy who shot a white kid (hoodie or not), he would never have left police custody. I hope that justice is served in this case and I believe that in time this will happen. One thing I can certainly do without, however, is People magazine trying to manipulate me emotionally by showing the photo of a much younger looking Martin so as to further project the image of innocence. That photo isn't going to change any minds. If you've been following the story and you don't think, "Man, that's messed up. That kid shouldn't have been shot," then the cover of People magazine sure as shit isn't going to change your mind. The only thing that cover can do is intensify the already existing outrage and send people of an already certain opinion into a tizzy. Using this photo was unnecessary and irresponsible, not to mention an insult to intellectuals everywhere. Intellectuals read "People" magazine, right?

A picture of Ceasar Chavez. Acknowledging my ignorance for a moment, I don't know who this dude is or what he did, but apparently it was significant enough for the City of Tempe to close their government offices in honor of him. I know this because I drove downtown today to pay my employer's City of Tempe sales taxes only to find that the doors were locked for, according to the posted sign and picture, the one and only (well actually, probably one of many) Mr. Cesar Chavez(es). Ironically, on my way down to Tempe, I had to pass through the mostly Mexican town of Guadalupe, where school was most certainly in session.

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The Littlest Good

I think the Salvation Army has got it wrong. For those of you who didn't know, those Christmas time bell ringing kettle shakers do have an official slogan. A sort of mantra if you will. Even it you won't, they still have it. The slogan is "Doing the Most Good." I do not like this slogan. First, I find it grammatically awkward. Second, I find this slogan pompous. Though the The Salvation Army website does list a variety of 13 categories of programs they support, is it really inconceivable that there is another charity out there with 14 categories? How can they claim to do the most good? Have they done research on every other charity in the world and compared apples to apples? I think not my friends! By the way, in case you're wondering, the charity category list, as it appears on the SA website, is not arranged alphabetically. In fact, the first category displayed is "Anti-Pornography." Something tells me the bell ringers were not present in the category selection meeting. Finally, the third reason I do not enjoy the Salvation Army slogan is that it plays into a societal epidemic of egotism. It too often feels like everyone is after bigger, better, faster, more. When we focus on the big, it is so easy to miss the beauty and competence of the small. Smaller, slower, steadier, less. In time, all of these things develop and become greater than 'more.' More is empty. Less is sufficient.

Consider an example from my own life...

Not too long ago I learned that a former co-worker's 4 year old son was diagnosed with brain cancer. My reaction to the news was typical; shock followed by remorse. I counted my blessings, hugged my kids a little tighter for a few days, and then continued on with my life. A few weeks later I got an invitation from my ex coworker to join the facebook page that his wife (whom I've only met once at their wedding) had created to chronicle their son's journey. Every few days or so they post a very detailed update about what exactly is going on in the little boy's life. Reading these posts makes me feel completely useless. There's nothing I can do or say that will improve the situation this family is in. I've kept the "hang in there"s and "let me know if I can do anything"s to myself, because I'm sure they get plenty of those already from people who are closer to them than me. Who am I? Instead, I chose to hide in the background "liking" any and all positive updates but leaving no comments......until this week.

The update this week was a description of the events leading up to an MRI. Essentially the child was kicking and squirming and screaming in resistance. It took both parents and a couple medical professionals to hold the kid down, a scene I know far too well due to the urinary reflux problems of our daughters (See "VCUG"). At any rate, the mom attributed the child's fit of resistance to him being "on to" the fact that he doesn't like the smell of the gas they use to put him out. I could relate to this anecdote intimately, so I left a comment. I said, "Will they let you put scented chap-stick on the inside of the mask to help with the smell? My daughters had bladder surgery at ages 3 and 7 and being able to pick their smell helped a little. He might be on to this trick to, but I couldn't read your post and not suggest it." I didn't expect a reply, but later that same day, the mom posted, "I'll ask about that. Great idea!!" The fact that I got a reply me feel good. The fact that she hadn't yet heard of the chap-stick trick made me feel even better. The fact that she followed "Great idea" with two exclamation points of enthusiasm made me feel (in the smallest way) useful, which is the best feeling of all. By sharing an unpleasant experience of my own, I was able to give a tiny suggestion that has the potential to make another person's unpleasant experience a little less so.

On the scale of helpful things one can do, I did the littlest good. But let's let it grow.....I told this mom about the chap-stick trick, she tells the hospital staff, and they start doing that for all of the children in that hospital. Then one of those other mom's at her hospital shares it with another mom whose kid goes to a different hospital, then she tells that hospital staff, and they start doing it too and so on and so forth until every child in the country is falling swiftly asleep to the sweet smell of strawberry kiwi anesthesia. A little overboard perhaps, but even still, I love the littlest good.

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That Which Cannot Be Duplicated

NOTE: This blog was written last night, but unable to be posted due to an internet outage

This evening I stole a few minutes for myself to partake in one of my favorite creative outlets - making music. I use the Garageband ap for the iPad, which is a dream come true. I'm sure some 'real' musicians out there find it to be a joke, but they can just go fuck themselves. Garageband has saved my creative soul. There is no faster way to develop random song ideas that pop into ones head than by using Garageband. While I have sent many a voicemail to myself containing two line melodic snip-its, I've never had a way to 'tinker' with these ideas or nurture them immediately. Many a snip-it has died somewhere between the 900th call from my mom and a dentist appointment reminder from a receptionist. Anyhow...

Tonight when I was working on a song, something strange happened. I was recording a drum track that was perfectly (read "fairly well") timed as I recorded it, however when I played it back, it was as though it was a half a beat or so behind. It didn't come out the way I wanted it to, but it was, in a weird way, better. I would never have recorded it that way on purpose and I will never be able to recreate it, because it happened completely unintentionally. Then I started thinking...

In my own life, it seems the greatest times I've had are the ones I've approached with limited and unspecified intentions. The best stories come from the things we stumble upon. Things like the 'one drink' happy hour that turns into an all nighter. Or the moment when you are inexplicably drawn to the lips of lover. When we remove all intention and allow moments to manifest on their own, the memories they create are incredible. The only problem is this...

Incredible memories that cannot be duplicated are the emotional equivalent of crack. Though I've never tried crack, from what I understand, the first time you use it, you get so unbelievably high that you spend the rest of your days chasing that ‘first time euphoria.’ Then your life falls apart. Similarly (but not as severely of course), if you approach a situation with the intentions of duplicating a previous positive memory, you are destined to fail. Reflecting on my own life I realize now, that the times I’ve tried to chase a memory are the same ones that have left me feeling the emptiest. Don’t spend your days chasing that which cannot be duplicated. Allow memories to make themselves and you will never become a crack head.

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Generation WTF

Every generation has a name. Generation X. Generation Y. The Greatest Generation. The Not So Greatest Generation. I might have made that last one up. We use these GENERation names to refer to entire segments of the population in a GENERic way. While I could very easily go off on a tangent about generalities in general, for the moment I shall refrain.

Over the past few days I've been thinking about the generation to which my children belong. A generation I now call "Generation WTF." The meaning for this new tag I have placed on our kids is two fold. First, it is a reference to the ever increasing abbreviation of our language. Our syntax is being circumvented in a sort of communication castration. Bombarded by texting and all of this TTYL8R and WWJD, I gotta say, it's a terrible time to be a vowel. I'm afraid there is no turning back on this erosion of our eloquence, but I sure hope I am wrong.

The second reason why I have bestowed the "Generation WTF" tag on our children is that so often while observing and interacting with this age group, I find myself thinking, "What the F*ck?!" A few examples for your consideration:

1. The emergence of "Peanut Awareness." Apparently, peanut butter is poison these days. It is so dangerous, in fact, that kids who have peanut allergies must sit at entirely separate lunch tables from those who do not. When was the last time you saw a kid smear another kid's face with PB&J just to watch him stop breathing? I say to you, " Generation WTF?!"

2. Over the top parties with over the top presents. Birthday parties for kids are out of control. When I was a kid, they parties were always at the kids house. Cake, a couple games and you'd call it good. Nowadays kids get bouncy castles and petting zoos! I was recently at a party for an 8 year old who got a 'sit on' motorized scooter that goes up to 15 mph. Not only is the thing not recommended for kids under age 12, but it also costs more than 3 weeks worth of groceries. I say to you, "Generation WTF?!"

3. Everyone is a Princess. What happened to the days when the contents of the dress up box were representations of respectable people in professions? You know - productive members of society who actually do something important for a living. Doctors, nurses, police officers, fireman, etc. If you ever want to be nauseous, take a look at the dress up boxes of today: princess, cheerleader, pop star, stripper. Just kidding on that last one....for now anyway. "Generation WTF?!"

4. Valentines is know referred to by the public school system as "Friendship Day." Generation WTF?!

5. I'm 9. I have a cell phone. "Generation WTF?!"

I could go on and on but for now I'll say, "To Be Continued." Oops, I mean TBC.

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Lovely Day

Today Brendan and I took the kids to "A Mountain" in Tempe for a little hike. It was lovely. A little exercise in the great outdoors on the old campus. Also, a wonderful opportunity to use my new camera! Neither Brendan nor I have climbed A Mtn. in over 12 years, so it was kinda neat to return 12 years later as a little family. The Parking meters were an unexpected disappointment, but we managed to scrape up enough loose change in the van to avoid getting a ticket. Kristen only had to be carried for a total of about 5 minutes, so that was bonus! As we climbed closer and closer to the "A," the girls' excitement seemed to climb as well. They were thrilled when we let them go over to touch and sit on it. Not sure what's so special about it - I sit on my A everyday! Badumpcha! Anyway...we made our way to the tippy top of the mountain, where we had a little snack before heading back down for lunch at 4 Peaks. As if I needed a reminder of the fact that children live in their own little world, the girls started strong arming each other for position when we got to the top. That's right, pushing and squirming while on top of a pile of jagged rocks on top of a mountain, thousands of feet in the sky. Hello Knuckleheads! Go on, pay no attention to your surroundings. No big deal. Just, you know, one over-reach and you'll become a tumbling ball of flesh headed screaming down the mountainside! Ah to be a kid again...

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Things I Don't Give a Shit About

Mitt Romney's tax rate.

Where President Obama gives his Democratic party nomination acceptance speech.

How many times "Teen Mom" stars get arrested.

Anything the Kardasians are doing.

Why Paula Dean has diabetes.

Wikipedia going "dark" for a day.

The upcoming American Idol premier.

Why the Italian cruise ship captain abandoned ship.

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Someone's Bleaching Beyonce!

While on line at Walgreen's today I happened across the newest Beyonce album called "4". I had to do a double take because at first I thought Lindsay Lohan released an album straight from the slammer. Nope. Then I looked a little harder and thought maybe Lisa Bonet had been resurrected from the dead. Wrong again. Finally after a third reeaaalllly long stare I finally figured it out - that cracked out white chick is Beyonce! Not sure what happened to black being beautiful, but apparently "strung out white" is the new black. I had to make sure I wasn't losing my mind, so I did an image search for Beyonce album covers and that's when things took a turn for the worst. Not only is Beyonce whiter than she used to be, but it also seems the more successful she becomes, the whiter she gets. They way I figure she's about two albums and a Grammy away from being clear. Chalk another one up for the regressive record industry. Such a shame.

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