Another Recipe

Way back when, I wrote a post about my favorite recipes.  Since then, I've learned that cooking is a lot more fun if you know a few "extra" tricks.  I recently have added to my kitchen  with the purchase of a QD Maker and a mincer/chopper.  While I have not taken the opportunity to make any of my hummus quesadillas with that QD Maker yet, my girlfriend taught me a new recipe which opens the door wide open for a lot of creativity (define that word as you wish).

SIMPLE PASTA
Minimum ingredients:
-Pasta (~12 oz.)
-Sauce (~25 oz.)
-Mozzarella cheese (~8 oz.)

Instructions: Cook the pasta, then mix it in a bowl with the sauce and 6 oz. of cheese (e.g. 3/4ths of the bag), then place it in baking dish and top it with the rest of the cheese and cover for 30 minutes at 375°F.

Here's where the fun begins because you can add flavors to this dish in almost any way you want.  Personally I like to hit the dollar store (lucky for me, there's a $.99 Only store across the street from me) and add a few more ingredients directly into the sauce.  Particularly, I enjoy diced tomatoes and mincing up olives.  I have also added meatballs, onions, and/or mushrooms on occasion, depending on my cravings that specific day.  Olive oil is always recommended!  Ditto for basil, oregano, garlic powder, and/or onion powder.

Not One Thing

Tonight was my last shift at PETCO.

My girlfriend made the day more special for me by restocking my fridge with milk (in response to a Tweet I made the night before lamenting my inability to find time to buy milk while working two jobs) and buying my favorite cereal (which was exactly why I wanted milk, honestly), a block of extra sharp cheddar cheese, tortillas, fresh salad, and delicious apples.  Regardless, retail is NOT my forte so, even though I found a good rhythm at the store and really enjoyed my time there, I was not going to miss it.

During my shift, my girlfriend asked (via text) if I was sad.  Immediately after I replied ("Not even a little"), Finger Eleven "One Thing" came on the store's audio.  I have been remiss in noting all the factors that went into my leaving finance, because there were so many and the reasons for leaving outnumbered the reasons to stay, but this song played a role.  What sounds like such a beautiful triumph harbors so much defeat.

My personal attachment to the song begins (and ends) with Chris Benoit.  When WWE released his DVD in 2004, on the heels of his ascension to the World Title status, they concluded his biography with this song.  It fit his life story immaculately, but the first time I saw it, my vicarious joy in the success that his sacrifices bore suddenly turned into a harrowing sadness; I couldn't help thinking, "now what?"  His life was for one purpose and once he reached the top, what was left in life?  Nowadays, when I hear the song, the tragedy of the Benoit family murders taints it with an all-encompassing melancholy.

The misplaced wisdom of the song's message wouldn't have struck me so harshly tonight, but-for my reasons for seeking employment at PETCO in the first place.

I started the Paralegal Studies Program at Phoenix College in May 2011.  I quit my job of 8.5 years at Vanguard a month earlier, and I was comfortable enough that I could have completed the program without part-time employment, but it did not take long for me to realize I *needed* some income.  Sitting back and watching all my savings dissipate was too much to take, so I sought part-time work.

At that point, I had two logical options.  I could apply at law firms for a foot-in-the-door, or I could apply at nearby retail stores in an unrelated field.  I opted the latter based on the future wisdom of what I would rather have done 10 years from now.  I figured if I started a career in law immediately, then I would burn out on it sooner (or worse, I could get a souring experience).  If I learned something new, as was my personal mantra in 2011, then I could look back and appreciate filling that small window of opportunity with something completely different than where I had been or where I was going.

Life isn't about one thing.  Life is all things.  So many people get stuck in their "one thing" and lose out on the rest.  I heard the song, but I didn't like the message.  I chose to make my life more than one thing.  God willing, a lot more.

It was a perfect time to be reminded of my decision, so closely removed from cursing that same decision during the two months I applied for several jobs in law each week but not getting more than one isolated interview (largely because I had forgotten to attach my resume to the application).

Today, I am happily employed in a small law firm handling bankruptcy, Family Law, and civil cases simultaneously.  I feel it is a golden opportunity to make a lasting career in the law field, and I cannot wait to learn whatever I can in this newest endeavor.

Favorite TV Characters

Recently I was watching Arrested Development, and I noted that if I compiled a list of my Top 20 favorite sit-com characters, then that show would probably have four of them.  I haven't given too much thought to the list yet, but coming up with five of my all-time favorite characters is easy.  Keep in mind, this list is strictly for live-action TV shows, and I will eliminate every show with puppets so all of The Muppets, ALF, and characters from Greg The Bunny won't clutter the list.  Also, shows with "character actors" like WWE and faux-reality shows like "The Hills" are eliminated because, otherwise, Shawn Michaels and Lauren Conrad would be a given to make the list with minimal rationale.

Since I can edit posts later, these first few are in no particular ranking (alphabetical order by surname IRL).

Michael Bluth (Jason Bateman)
Arrested Development was one of the first American TV shows to rely on a cast of abject human beings with virtually no redeeming qualities.  At the center of the mayhem of their selfishness and stupidity, however, was straight-man Michael Bluth as the family's voice of reason and social conscious, and Jason Bateman tops the short list of actors who are genuinely funny in a straight-man role in my opinion.

Eddie Finnerty (Kevin Corrigan)
While Grounded For Life was hardly a memorable show, the family was Catholic, so I have a bias (even if they were NOT a remarkable Catholic family).  Even before Gob Bluth, Kevin Corrigan was blending stupidity with selfishness together so well as Eddie Finnerty that it was almost impossible to determine whether his lines were written to represent the character's true opinion or an excuse to further his immediate cause.  Of course, the logical answer is that nothing he said was "true" because he was a fictional TV character, but that character was so expertly conniving that I still have some doubts.

Cliff Huxtable (Bill Cosby)
Between the saccharin families of early television and the abject lifestyles in modern television, '80s television had Cliff Huxtable, who naturally blended the traits of an ideal husband/father with those of the easily irritable man of the house.  He was as fatherly as Mike Brady with moments of frustration resembling Al Bundy, creating a family sit-coms that defied generational limitations.

Alex P. Keaton (Michael J. Fox)
The initial marketing pitch behind Family Ties was "cool parents, lame kids," and over-achiever Alex P. Keaton fit the character so perfectly that his lamest qualities were often his best.  He was often selfish, always serious, and rarely sensitive, but the writers of the show maximized his minutes and turned him into one of the most endearing TV characters of all-time, objectively and subjectively.

Chandler Bing (Matthew Perry)
The cast of Friends had to wear several hats as the term "dramedy" entered the American lexicon during the show's run.  Although he fell short on drama, Chandler was versatile in his comedy because his comedic timing on punchlines was nearly flawless, and conversely, his straight-man reactions were equally effective.  If I ever rank these characters by preference, then expect Chandler Bing to sit atop as #1.

Uncle Jesse (John Stamos)
The broken-family comedy Full House is the punchline of many jokes these days, but at its start, it was a strong cast and solid writing.  The entire male demographic was present among down-to-Earth dad Danny Tanner, funny-and-sincere Joey Gladstone, and cool-and-carefree Jesse Katsopolis.  John Stamos did more than portray his character on the show, he virtually became him (from allegedly dating his TV wife Lori Loughlin to changing the character's surname to match his own Greek ancestry).

Honorable Mention: Barney Stinson (Neil Patrick Harris), Jack Tripper (John Ritter), Roseanne Conner (Roseanne Barr), Darlene Conner (Sara Gilbert), Zack Morris (Mark-Paul Gosselaar), Kevin Arnold (Fred Savage), and (tie) Paul & Jamie Buchman (Paul Reiser & Helen Hunt).

South Park

Tonight, my favorite television show returns for the second half of its 16th season!  I am excited.

Welcoming viewers since August 1997.

I was a huge fanatic when "South Park" started in August 1997.  I remember the pilot episode aired on one of the Wednesday nights before I got cable installed into my studio apartment, so it took several months before I saw that pilot episode, but I remember specifically the interaction that completely won me over was in the fourth episode titled "Big Gay Al's Big Gay Boat Ride," where Chef (acting as Coach) was talking to the elementary football team and said, "Ok children, I know that you are all extremely excited & nervous & anxious about the Homecoming game against Middle Park."  Kyle asked, "Who's Middle Park?"  Cartman added, "What's Homecoming?"

If I were from South Park...

After that line, I knew this show was something special.  In the early seasons, a lot of their humour was in pure randomness and, growing up as a fan of "The State on MTV," I loved it!  The other immediate trademark was intentionally-outdated pop culture references from Tina Yothers to John Stamos('s older brother).  Many times I was just left speechless, whether I was laughing or just so flabbergasted wondering "how do they even think of these things?"  Seriously, who thinks to write the kids training a dog to respond to a command like "Don't be gay, Spark!  Don't be gay!"

The second season began with an epic April Fool's Day prank, which somewhat backfired because most viewers apparently did not have a sense of humor about themselves.  Except me.  I was such a huge fanatic that when the first season ended with the promise that the next episode would be in four weeks to reveal who Cartman's father was, I ran to a calendar and pinpointed the date.  Immediately, I noticed it was April 1st, and for the next four weeks, I told anyone who would listen that it would be an April Fool's prank.  While I didn't predict that the episode to air would focus on Terrance & Philip (I expected Comedy Central would simply air a short vignette saying "April Fool's Day"), that T&P episode actually became my favorite single episode for the first several seasons (all the way until "The Death of Eric Cartman" in season nine).

GO HABS GO!

By the fifth season, I had trouble keeping "South Park" in my weekly schedule.  I usually enjoyed new episodes when I saw them, but the show was not a priority in my schedule.  As a result, I never bought any South Park DVD sets when they were released.  In fact, it really wasn't until "South Park" came to syndication that it became a regular program on my TV again.  Many nights I would be *almost* asleep when suddenly they popped off with a punchline that sent me into a riotous laughing fit.

One Sunday night, I could not sleep and I eventually gave up around 3 a.m. to search for something on television to put me to sleep.  I expected to fall asleep during any given program, but instead I found an episode of "South Park" where I was hooked from start to finish, but completely drained from all my laughing that I went straight to sleep as soon as it finished.  The episode was their season 11 opener, "With Apologies to Jesse Jackson," which started with Randy Marsh in the bonus round of Wheel Of Fortune getting stumped by the final letter to "People Who Annoy You," after being given "N _ G G E R S" (the right answer was naggers; of course, that's not how he answered).

Eventually, "South Park" became a television obsession for me; it attained the rare status of one of those shows that I could watch every time it aired, regardless how many previous times I had seen the same episode.  Even though the show was on syndication each night, I still felt as though I needed to have it more readily available at my disposal, so I purchased "South Park: The Hits, Volume 1."  Most fans would not have wasted their money on this purchase since all of the episodes were available on prior box sets, but I had not purchased any of the season box sets, so this set was all new episodes to my collection.

Ya know?

Contrary to my original intentions, I slowly started buying the season box sets.  Luckily (ok, I planned it this way to a large degree), most of the sets had been out a while so they had fallen from their original "new release" prices.  I don't think I have paid over $20 for any set, all the way up to last week when I bought Season 15 for under $15, and I own every season (except season 11, for select reasons).

While a lot of the show's characteristics have remained the same, the story telling and humour have definitely evolved.  Whereas the humour used to be its pure randomness, Trey Parker and Matt Stone have developed into incredible satirists.  Whereas the show used to have subplots in each episode, nowadays they can fill an entire episode with one story (beginning with "Scott Tenerman Must Die").  The shock factor has worn thin, but the brand itself remains strong as Comedy Central's most successful show.  And for the fans who still follow it, the show is still pretty special.

Even the Stanley Cup loves "South Park."

Trey Parker and Matt Stone have perfected the ability to satire both sides of arguments, then sound like geniuses by conveying a reliable lesson on moderation or simplicity at the end.  Their scope of satires has been pretty impressive as well, ranging from The Dark Knight trilogy to "The Real Housewives of New Jersey," from Wal-Mart to Hooters, and from the 9/11 conspiracy theories to Cash For Gold stores.  Almost every organized religion and sport has been satired at some point in the show's history.  Yet occasionally, they will tug on the heartstrings of even the most jaded viewers as proven by "You're Getting Old," the mid-season finale last year.

All in all, it's pretty impressive for a group of today's 10-year-olds who would have originally been born in 1991.

This is why I remember their birthdays...

Kyle & Raegan celebrating my 30th birthday in May 2007.

My favorite married couple are Kyle & Raegan Sonnenberg, and this is their birthdays.  It's easy to remember because they were born on September 25th and September 26th in the same year (I'll withhold their birthyear, in case they care to keep that information somewhat classified).  For many of the past several years, I have sent one email to both of them as the clock turned to midnight between the two dates.

This year I consider to be an extra special birthday though, because Kyle has a gig tonight at Sail Inn.  Actually, it's less the gig that makes it special and more the fact that (A) I will get to see him to celebrate his birthday ON his actual birthday, and (B) I have a very unique birthday present for him.

Back on February 8, 2012, I wrote a blog entitled "This is not an emergency" about the Caterwauls.  Towards the end, I noted my latest endeavor of making a Caterwauls Live CD of that title, having recently discovered how to extract a single song into MP3 format from a video.  I had a handful of live performances from 2005 and 2006 from which to choose, and after several months of attention and several months of neglect, I completed the project and "This Is Not An Emergency" is ready for release!  For the most part, I am using "completed" in the Tom Petty sense of the word when he said, "you never finish an album, you just abandon it."  And I am using "release" completely incorrectly as distribution of the album will be limited to a handful of people.

Initially, I had the Audacity to hope I could eliminate the drone of chatter on almost every recording, but unfortunately, that program could do a lot of things (mostly beyond my scope) but it would take a far greater piece of technology than Audacity to pull off that trick, so I stayed with what was within my $0 budget.  Honestly, I think that chatter adds an element of liveliness to the album as a whole now.  Additionally, I was hoping to be able to get all of the recordings to sound mostly identical, but again, it was impossible without the patience of a saint (or, at least, the knowledge of a music producer), so I have grown to appreciate the album as a collection of live tracks.  It comes off better than trying to make the album sound congruent.

Finally, there was the selection of tracks to be considered.  This was where I am most pleased.  Many of the songs never appeared on a Caterwauls album, and some others have never been released by Kyle Sonnenberg on any album.

Final version of my cover for the Caterwauls live CD.

1. Emergency. Title track, and one of my favorite songs when I first started following the band in 2004.  Kyle played this song (much to my surprise) at the First Friday event at the Paper Heart in May 2006.  I had organized the evening myself, and (having nothing to do with the Caterwauls) it was nearly disastrous.  Regardless, I was thrilled to learn that I had this track recorded and that thrill inspired this entire project.  This song was never recorded for any (other) album.

2. Happy. Easily my favorite of Kyle's songs, and sometimes, I even list this track as my favorite song period (although Great White's "Psychedelic Hurricane" may have it beat, in all honesty).  I figured if this album were my project, then my favorite song was required.  Plus, if I were to listen to any Caterwauls CD, then I would want to hear this song, so I made sure that happened here.

3. Sweet Honey.  This track also came from the Paper Heart show, and Kyle gave it a humorous introduction.  Including some of those random introductions was important to me because it captured the *fun* of attending Caterwauls live shows.  Most times, I would laugh almost as much as I would dance (and the Caterwauls remain the only live band to get me out on the dance floor).  Kyle recorded this song for one of his miscellaneous solo albums, but it never appeared on a Caterwauls CD.

4. Claustrophobic/Punk Song.  This song was the first song on the first studio album "Prescription Pill," a point that is documented at the outset of this track where Sam Conrad surprised Kyle and Tony with the CDs.  Kyle humorously quips that "this is our CD release party, HOW HUGE CAN THIS GET!"  Which was especially funny to a room of less than a dozen people.  That interaction justified its inclusion, although the performance of these songs was phenomenal.  I didn't use performance as a factor on whether or not to include a song.  If I had, then the track listing would probably look a lot different.

5. Someday. Another song that the Caterwauls played at so many shows, but it slipped through the cracks when it came time to record an album.  More often than not, this song was performed on acoustic guitar, and it captured the uniqueness of the Caterwauls almost perfectly (punk, funk, & melodic junk).

6. Stonehead Guru. This song was a gem with Tony Juarez on drums, and they even recorded for their first studio album, but for whatever reason (i.e. Kyle wasn't satisfied with it), it was nixed from the finished product.  Lucky for me, it was included on their official website but I could not download those tracks.  Kyle recorded this track with DSFA in Canada and recently brought it into SFA sets, but this is only recording I have of the Caterwauls performing it.

7. Song In Progress. This song was never quite finished, but Kyle played it a few times live.  Unfortunately, this particular show was a sketchy performance and one that I'm sure Kyle would not endorse its inclusion, but I did not have the heart to remove it based on how catchy the rhythm of the song is and my pure amusement in the opening and ending interaction between Kyle and Sam.

8. Interplanetary Picture Show. This performance was only done because I requested it, and I requested it because I wanted to have a recording of the song.  Quite perceptive of me, eh?  This song had great potential, and the lyrics were so far out there that it truly felt he made an interplanetary connection with another galaxy.  This song was not released on any other album.

9. Blissful Kisses. These last three songs are fittingly together because they were the last three songs I tacked onto the album before I considered it finished.  This song was filmed in May 2006 at a sports bar that was playing the Edmonton Oilers bid for the 2006 Stanley Cup, a point worth noting since Kyle called a goal at one point in the song.  This song was always a personal favorite, but it was mainly included on this album because (A) of the Oilers goal, and (B) I liked how Kyle ended the song live more than how he recorded it on "Rozepedals" (the second studio album).  The performance itself was a little sloppy in parts, but the song itself can make up for any of those shortcomings.

Back cover  (track listing) of the live Caterwauls CD.

10. Judgment Day. This song was another favorite, but I only had one recording of it and, initially, I did not think it was good enough to be included on the album.  But when I returned to the project after shelving it for several months, I could not find out why I ever objected to it.  It was written in 2004 with the Presidential Election looming closer and closer.  Religion was often overpowering more relevant issues on its own merit, so (although Kyle and I are miles away in our religious views) I respect every word in this song!

11. Setting Son. This song is never one of my favorites, but it was one of few recordings I had where Kyle signed off, so I decided to include it.  This performance was from August 2005 when Caterwauls competed in a Battle of the Bands after performing a full set at Rio Salado Brewery a couple hours earlier.

Overall, there is no way Kyle will appreciate this album as much as I will.  But I know he will appreciate the effort behind it.  After all, not many local musicians have fans who would make their own album of a band as a labour of love.

This was why I learned guitar...

In 1991, music became a major part of my life.  I was 13-years-old and I bought my first CD player, then that summer, I started taking guitar lessons.  It was a new experience, although my mother had always kept us musically inclined.  I played in the middle/high school band and I took piano lessons for however long, so it was not my first exposure to music scales and notes, but in reality, guitars are cooler for teenage boys than any other instruments (except drums, and maybe the saxophone).

I played a lot through high school, less through college.  I think my interest in wrestling overtook my interest in music, and the reality of the situation was that I was never that good.  It was fun to play guitar, but less fun if you cannot sing.  There was one, maybe two songs where I could sing along, most memorably Faster Pussycat "House of Pain," but my voice was so awful that it was better if I didn't.  I never became particularly creative on guitar either, so eventually, my guitars just became a thing of my past.  Playing guitar did, not music itself.

My first "real" musician "friend"

When I first moved to Phoenix, I attended several shows at the Mason Jar of bands whose CDs I owned, namely Gilby Clarke and LA Guns, and Scared Reich was another mainstay.  After keeping count through the first 10, I lost track of how many I saw Gilby Clarke.  Then, I turned 21 and I could attend bars like The Blue Note which had live music every night.  Not immediately, sadly.  In fact, I kinda forgot that turning 21 enabled me to get into bars since I didn't drink often.  Eventually, I went to the Blue Note every night in mid-1999 to see the variety of bands.  Most of them were not memorable.  Some were awful.  On Sunday night, though, they had a Stevie Ray Vaughan tribute artist and he was unforgettable.  His name was Chris Hiatt, and I started making his Sunday shows a regular event for myself.

He played upwards of three to four times a week across the Valley, and it didn't take long before I started attending at least half of the shows.  I enjoyed going out to new places in new locations in the Valley, and of course, since becoming a regular, he and his fans began to remember me, so I formed a friendship with most of them.  I was working my first "real" job (post-college) at a call center, and the rest of my time was free of responsibilites.  I wasn't the type to stay at home to watch anything on television, so Chris Hiatt's shows became more and more often my preferred entertainment for the evening.

I had known a couple musicians in my life, but none as closely nor as talented as Chris Hiatt.  The most mind-blowing part about his shows was how effortless he played.  If you've seen Stevie Ray Vaughan's performances on Austin City Limits, then just imagine that.  Except, I was watching it live.  And, talking to the down-to-earth guy between sets.

For the most part, it was a positive experience, except a growing twinge of jealousy as a failed musician.  Chris Hiatt made it look so easy.  How could I not get anywhere close?  It was never something I felt strong enough that I said it out loud, but it came out in other ways.  Specifically, at church.  I would never sing along, and the reason I told people was "if God wanted me to sing, he would've given me a voice to do it."

Looks simple, right?

I cannot remember when I picked up the guitar again; in fact I may have never actually stopped playing.  But much later in 2002, the thought of how simple Chris Hiatt made it look inspired me to learn a song, and maybe it would be one where I could sing along.  It was.  Lucky for me, except then I learned another song and another, and I soon learned that I had somehow acquired the ability to sing while playing guitar.  Not every song naturally, but a lot.  Enough to impress me.  Which was enough that when my Catholic neighbor downstairs asked why I don't sing at church, "because I know you can," that I realized this newfound ability was a gift directly from God.

For the next two years, I played often.  I played songs I loved, I played songs I had just heard.  I listed "No Woman No Cry" as my New Year's Resolution for 2003, and I learned how to play that song on January 1st, then I would often make up my own lyrics to the song as I played.  I had never been able to think so creatively before, and I haven't been able to since then.  I just considered it another gift from God.

It was 8 years since I graduated high school, and I had never performed before an audience, which was my goal in high school.  I didn't mind much; except now I had the platform where I wouldn't need to coordinate with another group of people. I could (in theory) do it by myself, if ever given the opportunity.

"American Idol" was still new as a ratings sensation, so one day at work, they advertised an "Arizona Idol" talent contest.  My friends at work knew I could play guitar, so they told me that I should sign up.  I figured if it were anything like "American Idol," they would need off-key losers, and this was the perfect vehicle for me to accomplish my high school self's dream.  I figured I owed it to him since, if I had been given this gift then, I could have had countless performances by now (in other words, more than 10).

The day of the show, July 1, 2003, we had a five-minute block of time to perform.  That was basically one song, maybe two.  I had not really decided which song to perform, but I had a few options.  Most of them sentimental favorites.  When I arrived to work, though, I learned that half of the "performers" abdicated their slots (as it turned out, it was not a contest, but rather a talent showcase) so instead of five minutes to fill, I now had 20.

Only pic of my only performance.

Fortunately, I was prepared enough for this situation (blame the Eagle Scout badge).  The real question was which songs would I use to fill the time.  It was difficult to prepare when I didn't know how I would react.  I leaned on the advice of another childhood hero, Shawn Michaels, who said in discussion of his triumphant return match at SummerSlam 2002, he needed to just step out and see what he could do when he had to do it.  I wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but I grasped the concept of it.  Or at least, I thought I did.

As it turned out, what he meant was that when all eyes are on you, there is a burst of adrenaline filling your body.  The same sensation that enables you do do things you never thought you could will also prevent you from doing things you were certain you could.  I don't know how much easier it gets with multiple performances, but at the very least I learned what it meant to perform.

My first song was "Rainbow Connection," the classic Muppets ode to accomplishing your dreams.  It was fitting since, regardless what happened, this had been my high school dream/goal.  It went horribly.  The song itself is challenging enough, and the opening riff (written for a ukulele) is tricky on guitar, so I think I played it correctly about one in three attempts.  Which was significantly better than the number of notes I sang on-key.

After that song (which I knew was awful immediately), I tried playing a fingering exercise to loosen up.  Unfortunately, it had the exact opposite effect.  My fingers were moving about three notes behind my brain, and I could not get them in sync.  That's when reality hit: I was screwed!  I still had at least 15 minutes to fill to play a guitar that my fingers couldn't play.  It was overwhelming, in the bad way.  I literally felt myself burst into tears.  Fortunately, my whole body was behind my brain, so those mental tears switched to panic before they got to my eyes.

"The only thing I knew how to do was to keep on keepin' on."

In that moment, those Bob Dylan lyrics served me well in two ways.  First off, it was exactly what I did.  And secondly, I decided to play "Tangled Up In Blue" from which those lyrics came.  It was only a few chords, so I only needed the most basic finger movements.  Plus, I could read each word from the songsheets that I brought with me, which was initially what I had wanted to avoid, but like Shawn said, you figure out what to do when you have to do it.

Somehow, the choice was the perfect selection.  I was later told that I "have a good voice for Bob Dylan songs."  Thank you?  That was the nicest way possible to compliment my singing voice.  I knew the song was going well, and I felt myself getting into the song as I neared the final verse, and the big question started: end strong, or play another?

I was still playing the last verse when I decided that none of this would feel complete unless I did the song that turned it full circle in the first place: "The Origin Of Love."  In Autumn 2002, I submerged myself in "Hedwig & The Angry Inch."  Nursing my own broken heart, I identified perfectly with its story, and at least once a day, I would turn on that movie (even if only the music).  "The Origin Of Love" is one of the most beautiful songs, and that Christmas, the only thing I wanted was to be able to play that song on guitar myself.  I had found the chords online in December, but the sequence of notes was far too complicated, so the chords were a poor substitute for the notes.

On Christmas evening, I was waiting to join my roommate's family for dinner in Mesa while surfing online.  Alone in my place, I searched the song again, and I found another website with the music.  I quickly realized it was the actual music!  It was the note-by-note transcription that I had wanted.  I put it together almost entirely that night.  I think the only break I took from playing it was when my roommate came back from dinner.  I was completely emersed in the song.  Successfully.

As far I was concerned, this was a gift from God, my Christmas present.

If God had gotten me this far, I figured it was only appropriate to complete it and end with the song.  The fact that I was only a little over 10 minutes into the set justified playing another five-minute song.  So I started, and I played, and I was awful again, but this time, I didn't notice as much.  The song itself meant more to me than the performance.  Afterall, the audience would forget my performance in a month, but I knew this moment would be with me for the rest of my life, and I knew that I had to play this song.  If not at this performance, then the next one.

But there was no next performance.  I didn't need one.  I finished my last song, and thanked everyone, then invited anyone to borrow my guitar for a song, saying that I had set the bar so low that it proved anyone could do it.

Whether or not that last part was true or just hyperbole in the moment, my performance at least vindicated the 13-year-old inside of me who learned guitar for me and eventually promised himself that he would play in front of people one day.

GGB

My paternal grandmother (known among family as "GGB," i.e. Great-grandma Bette) passed away on Tuesday, August 14, 2012, after 93 years, 3 months of life.  I hope to detail the events around her funeral and share some of my favorite stories of her here, but this blog may continue to be a work in progress.  She truly did life the way it was meant to be lived.

The first step to honoring her memory was shaving my six-year-old beard, which I decided to vlog because (A) my friend Kayla McKinney always loves to vlog, so I thought it would be a unique experience to capture, and (B) because I am going to start applying for job interviews soon, which is about as stressful as public speaking, and filming yourself is always a recommended method to overcome that stress.  Albeit, I don't fear public speaking anymore (not after an utterly disappointing stint as a ring announcer in front of unruly pro wrestling crowds), so this was mostly for fun.  But still good practice nonetheless.

The Introduction: 1 minute
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sj9PiLUzNI0

Part 1: 2 minutes
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iAkO8j9G_Qk

Part 2: 5 minutes
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ukhBFx04WDk

Part 3: 3 1/2 minutes
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kz1o1pMhdmw

Visiting GGB in November 2010; she hated my beard.

As it turned out, boning up on public speaking skills had more instant gratification than I expected.  When I arrived at the viewing on Friday, Uncle Ted asked if I could do one of the two readings at the funeral.  I agreed, knowing that my father used to be a Lector and I had never done it.  I was interested to learn who the other person was going to be to read the other reading.  I learned that night that it was also me.  No one in my family wanted to take the role.  I don't know if it was the lack of public speaking or just the situation itself.  I know plenty of family members who love attention, so I still think it was largely the latter (aside from those who I know were not personally close to GGB).

During the above-referenced footage, I mention that GGB was the only person I know who did not like my beard.  Albeit, I know my mother's approval was only given at the time because she was dating a nice bearded gentleman at the time I grew out mine.  The next afternoon, I cut my hair (it wasn't long enough to donate to Lock of Love) and I became a new man -- visually anyway.  I invited my girlfriend over that night to see the "new face," which was somewhat mean because she had explicitly voiced her opinion against my shaving, but GGB was a Taurus, so it's not surprisingly the stubborn bull won.

I reiterated to my girlfriend that I didn't know why GGB didn't like my beard, "unless I look more like my father without it."  Wendy promptly took me to the bedroom where I have a portrait of my father (slightly noticeable in my Blogger icon) and she confirmed that I looked a *LOT* more like my father without the beard, so GGB's disapproval made a lot of sense.  Also, Uncle Ted said that "she probably didn't like the beard, but I know she loved giving you Hell about it a lot more than she disliked it."

Regardless, having a visual reminder of my father at the funeral was a nice touch since I know (aside from my sister's wedding and the birth of her kids) it was one of few events that he would have truly wanted to be a part of since his death in 1990.  In fact, Uncle Ted pulled me aside and said when he looked up to watch me on the pulpit deliver the readings, it almost broke him down because it reminded him so much of his brother.

Sadly, her funeral will (more likely than not) mark the last time all eight grandchildren and five (living) sons plus daughters-in-law are together.  That point is slightly less upsetting when we consider that it was the first time all of us were together since my grandfather's memorial service in 1988.  Albeit, all but one made it to GGB's 90th birthday celebration in 2009.

In an attempt to memorialize our togetherness, we took several pictures together as a full group.  After the entire group was photographed, the sons had their picture taken.  The sun was setting to the left, and for some reason, Uncle Fred rested his arm outward across the bricks immediately to his right.  The sun cast a shadow of both sons in the form of another full body, which was almost a perfect silhouette of her deceased son (with Uncle Fred wrapping his arm around his shoulders).  It is a picture I look forward to viewing again and again.

All in all, the funeral and her viewing was classy with the right dose of fun.  Most of the Quay family attended (the stepchildren from her second marriage), which was good because they loved GGB as much as the rest of us, and every eulogy given was about GGB's powerful devotion to God, mostly citing in one phrase or another how "Bette was living proof against this myth that you cannot be Christian and fun-loving."  GGB loved life, and with her, zingers were always a second away (usually as soon as you let your guard down).

I remember my last visit in November 2010, less than 2 years ago, when I stayed at her place.  I had already independently perused all the pictures on her fridge (she had a lot of them, almost exclusively of family), so I was surprised when she called out to me "Come look at this picture, it's me from high school."  I went over to the fridge, and the picture was no less than 10 years ago with her in a blue dress and trademark gray hair.  She preceded to recount a mythical adolescence of complete bliss.  I was laughing too hard to remember the exact details, but it was very heart-warming -- and vintage GGB.

Nowadays, I look at that visit as a true blessing, because it was barely planned.  I was visiting friends on the other side of Cleveland, and my friend Emilyote was supposed to get me a day earlier, but she was under the weather and dreading the drive, so I told her to wait another day.  That gave me an unexpected 24 hours alone with GGB, which was a lot of fun and a nice memory to hold now that she has passed on from this life.

This is not an emergency

On Friday, September 4, 2004, I had invited a neighbor to come see my friend Chris Hiatt perform his SRV-tribute act in Phoenix.  I woke up that morning in disbelief that nothing had caused our plans to get canceled. Yet.  There was still a thought in the back of my head that something would.  But I never imagined that those changes would be for the best.  Much less change the direction of my life for the next several years.

When I called her to finalize plans, she said that she misunderstood and thought that the show was last night (so she assumed I flaked on her, or maybe she was trying to flake on me? Sometimes the more thought you give girls, the weirder you think they are), and unfortunately, she had already made plans with her friend to go see their mutual friend perform with his band downtown at First Friday.  I didn't know many local bands in Phoenix, but I knew the ones I had seen were awful.  When we arrived, I expected the worse because the band was nowhere to be found, but their equipment was set up, consisting of an acoustic guitar, an electric bass, and a small trapset.

The band started their first song, which was very good, so I assumed it was the one decent song that deluded them into thinking they were a good band.  Then, the next song was at least as good, and the song after that was also good, and before long, I had listened to at least a dozen songs by this band and all but one song was very enjoyable.  Normally it takes me a few listens to enjoy a song, so the fact that this band had so many songs in one set was almost unprecedented for a local band.  The band was named Caterwauls, and I took a flyer in expectations of seeing them again, although I wasn't exactly sure when that would be.

When I turned 30, I celebrated with the Caterwauls.

A few weeks later, I was at home on a Friday night and complete irked and I wanted to get out, but my Plan A (Chris Hiatt) wasn't playing in town.  That's when I noticed the Caterwauls flyer on my fridge, and I immediately decided that was where I would be going.

The first time I saw the band, they were very good.  This night, they were AMAZING!  It was truly a magical night, and even the singer (Kyle Sonnenberg) noted a couple times throughout the set that the band was playing better than it had ever before.  Over the next 15 months, I saw them perform almost every time they had a show.  While I had started following Impact Zone Wrestling every other Tuesday night, I always told my friends there "weekends are for music," because I'd often skip local wrestling events to watch Caterwauls if they were performing anywhere.

On July 25, 2005, I purchased a video camera to record matches in Impact Zone Wrestling, as well as the Caterwauls and Jeordie (whom I met when she booked the Caterwauls for her show a month earlier).  I put the footage I recorded on DVD-R's, but that was about all the further it went.

Live album cover, if all goes well.

After sitting on this footage for the past six years, I recently learned how to convert the DVD files into a file compatible with YouTube, so I have added a lot of matches to YouTube but not as much musical footage of Jeordie or Caterwauls.

This past week, however, I finally learned how to convert the files into a .mp3 (as well as extracting specific songs out of a full set) so my free time has been drastically altered because it has gone to rummaging through all the old footage and finding songs that the Caterwauls have never recorded.  The goal from this new hobby is that I should be able to compile enough tracks to fill a CD, and then my favorite band ever (who quietly broke up at the beginning of 2008) could release a live album.

This is why I'm still cheap...

I did not have a lot of power in my household growing up, but fortunately my parents respected my opinion anyway.  Maybe not all the time, but enough to leave a lasting, positive impression.

I've know this pattern all my life.

The best example was when my mother wanted to replace our kitchen plates with a new pattern.  The ones we had ever since I could remember were white with green trim (not sure if they were plants or just leaves) and she wanted to get off-white plates with a sharp country blue trim.  Honestly, the new ones were really good looking.  But I had two problems with the concept.  First, I thought the ones we already had were also sharp.  Secondly, the ones we already had were perfectly fine!  I voiced these objections.

It was not that I wanted the money spent on other things, or that I had ideas on where the money could be better spent or invested.  In fact, back in those days, I did not even know how to invest or terms like "asset allocation" or "returns on investment," but I understood the value of a dollar, and I have the simple philosophy that if it's not broke, don't replace it.

Obviously, there were a lot of factors that I was overlooking back in those days, primarily how different our household income was to our household expenses, but my mother at least respected my opinion enough to reason with me.  It may have been a joke, or last resort at the time, but she finally shut me up by promising that she would keep all of the plates and silverware (by the way, she was also "upgrading" our silverware at the same time) for when I went off to college and I had my own apartment.

Anyone who knows me well would not be surprised to learn that I still have all those plates and the silverware in my place.  I have lived on my own since 1997, and when my mother came to visit me once in 1998 or 1999 at the latest, she said that she had a big surprise for me.  It was the rest of the set (I had already been given several plates and enough silverware).

I still don't know what all the plates are called or how all the utensils are supposed to be used, but when I recently made my first steaks at home last month, I used one of the larger plates for the first time.

One of my cats (unfortunately, I don't know which one exactly -- although, I'm leaning towards Needles) broke one of my plates tonight, and it was a bit more upsetting to me than it should have been.  Especially since I have a cabinet full of those plates.

But as each one breaks, I move one plate closer from having to buy a whole new set.

This is why I love Twitter

Year Of Change

My year of change has come to an end, and it was easily the most productive year of my entire adult life.  From quitting my job to changing cellphone providers, there were many changes made throughout the year, mostly by design and, by large, for the better.

After the last rays of hope dimmed at my job last year, I used my days off to visit Phoenix College and enroll in their paralegal certification program.  I was not sure how I would approach it exactly, but I knew my time in finance was limited.  I am good at finance, but my involvement was always from the outskirts in entry level positions at a highly regarded investment company.  I learned a LOT about the industry, more than the average person understands, and I felt I had two options: either advance my career or find another career.  I took a couple job interviews within my company to get moved to another department, but nothing worked out for me at the time, so I knew the time to part ways had finally come.

I owe a lot of that to my most recent ex-girlfriend, because I had never quit a job in my life before that point.  I had several jobs where I was hired with the departure date known when I took the job, and then I had a couple other jobs where the company closed and I moved on with my life.  The activity of separating myself from the relationship (personal or work) was an experience that I had never had, so when my relationship with Amy reached the point where we started building more resentment than relationship.  She was the one who initiated the conversation, not so coincidentally a few days after returning from Florida where she had gone to see Christopher Titus perform.  His show was in support of his special entitled "Love Is Evol," during which he quickly proclaimed "tonight's show will either save your relationship, or destroy it!  Either way, you're welcome!"

Christopher Titus was right.  His words struck a chord with Amy and she knew our relationship was not worth saving (or even working to rebuild).  We were just friends at that point, so we broke up and maintained our friendship easily.  A lot of that had to do with the fact that we had no expressed resentment towards the relationship ending nor the relationship itself.  We ended it right when it should have ended, and that was that.

That said, my relationship with my employer reached the point where it needed to end, so I ended it.  I had no need for them, and they had no need for me.  The future there was meek and depressing, and I thought about how things were when I started.  One of the first things I noted about that department at that point was how it was full of people who loved working and hated their jobs.  As a result, there was a mass exodus from the department.  Things got better, but then they got worse before getting better again, and then, they got worse.  I recognized the pattern.  Our managers were rewarded for resolving problems, so they created issues in order to fix them.  It made them look better and it made our jobs unbearable.  The only end in sight was the exit door, so that's where I was drawn.  Additionally, I realized that the changes that took place were made because my former-colleagues were leaving, so now it was my turn.

In order to commit to my decision, I called in sick on the worst possible day for them.  It was the day after Martin Luther King Day, and the allotment for time off was exceeded.  I had a disgruntled friend who really wanted everyone to call out on the same day as a protest, so I texted him that I was sick and I probably wouldn't make it to the office the next day.  He deciphered the code and called out as well.  I didn't ask how bad things were, but I could tell it was a rough day.  They created enough of them for us, it was time to turn the tables.  Additionally, it ended six years of Perfect Attendance.  Pride leads to bad decisions, and I had always taken pride in my attendance.  Now I had nothing left to enjoy at work.  Nothing against the people who were working there, but no one was interesting enough to stay on board to maintain my friendship with them.  All my closest friends from work had moved on to other things.

During all my talk of changes, Amy was equally inspired and she decided to move back home where she had the opportunity to buy a house (in a "difficult" housing market, so I'm especially happy of her for qualifying for a home loan).  She took every necessary step to complete the move, including her rental truck.  Unfortunately, she was working every day up until her move and then the day following her arrival, so she picked up the truck just before one shift and then drove out the next day.  Unfortunately, her dog Jericho did not cooperate.  The cab was too high for him to enter or exit safely.  By March, he was 11 years old and weighed over 100 pounds.  Therefore, I made the decision to drive him back to Illinois in my car.  It was the best option and the only way I could fully say good-bye to the three of them (Amy, Jericho, and her cat Kaena).  They moved out to Arizona in 2007 to be closer to me, so I felt it was fitting to get them back home safely.

When Amy dropped off her cable box, I found out how easy it would be for me to upgrade my service.  And inexpensive to boot.  My drive back to Illinois delayed the change in service, but I made the change (as well as changing to high-speed Internet, which finally ended my AOL dial-up service).

To avoid repetition, I can skip ahead past my last day since I think I may have already covered the other events in prior entries.

Recap last day at Vanguard, updates since that time.

My first semester was the summer session and I took three classes.

My second semester started in Fall, and I took three more classes.

I registered for Spring semester taking on four classes.

Made it back home for Christmas for the first time since my sister had her children.

Next summer, I need another three classes to complete the program.

Obviously, this article is currently under construction but I hope to finish it shortly.