Shakabuku

Debi: You know what you need?
Marty: What?
Debi: Shakabuku.
Marty: You wanna tell me what that means?
Debi: It's a swift, spiritual kick to the head that alters your reality forever.
Marty: Oh, that'd be good. I think.

Now, watch this short clip. I'll wait. Or as I see all over the web, we'll continue after the jump.

(I apologize for the clips dialogue not being in English, but the dialogue really has nothing to do with it)

It's what I needed. And I got it. I can't thank the people that helped enough, including my wonderful wife who put up with a whole lot of my bullshit as I not only suffered, but suffered in silence (and sometimes not so silently) and projected it all over everyone around me. And I should thank all those people that tried to get through to me. And apologize to them, as well, not for not hearing you, but not wanting to hear you.

And in a funny way, I should thank the folks who dropped a boatload of negative vibes in my lap recently. Your actions allowed the cup to spilleth over, as it were, and you set in motion the events that lead me to sit here, and for the first time in years, truly feel like myself again. Or at least, that my true self is emerging from a slumber, stretching arms and yawning, gaining bearing.

For close to 10 years I've had a myriad of reasons to shelter myself. Fear based reasons. Fear of being hurt emotionally by anybody. Fear of security (life security, that is). Fear of non-acceptance. The list goes on. And these fears made me want to shove myself in to this very small box of how I thought people wanted me to be. Except I forgot one person's opinion about who I should be: me.

My work life grew more structured, I grew more frustrated, I squeezed more in to the box, I got in to more trouble, I tried squeezing more in to the box, I grew even more frustrated. And all the while, the more worse it grew, the more I was bringing this home. Home, the one place I actually felt happy. Except I had changed my standards of happy. The emotional state I would have called happy years ago was much higher than the happy I accepted for myself now. In truth, comparably, I was miserable. I had committed one of the worst acts a person can do as they traverse the rocky road of life: I brought my work home with me. And even worse, since I had lowered my own standards, not only didn't I realize I was doing this, I had no clue how it was affecting everything around me.

Owa Ta Nas Iam. Say it, you'll get it.

I have no idea what the future holds, and that's the point. For the first time in a long time, I don't care. Because I have a beautiful wife who has more patience than humanly possible for being able to weather my years long stormy weather. I have an incredible daughter, who with every passing day grows more and more amazing, and whose laughter I could listen to forever. I own my own home, and while it's not the Taj Majal, it's my mine, and my families. It's more than shelter, more than concrete foundations and wood, it has metaphysical meaning as well. It's a tangible crucible of love, friendship, and many more.

And my family doesn't end there. I have a mother in law who loves me, perhaps even if I were her biological son. I have a father-in-law who appears to be pulling his life back together as well, albeit from a different direction. I have aunts and uncles who are nothing but loving and supporting. I have cousins who have always kept me grounded and humbled. I have half-brothers, while distanced, who would probably be there if I absolutely needed them. I even have great pets.

Basically, I have a great family. An awesome one. I had great parents, who unfortunately are no longer with us, but they're sure to be proud of me, and even prouder that after being knocked down, I'm getting back up, dusting off, and standing tall and defiant.

I am not defined by what I do. I am defined by who I am, by my relationships with those close to me. I am no longer afraid of what people who truly don't matter in the long run think of me. I'm not really afraid of what the people close to me think of me, either, but for them, at least I do care what they think of me, and caring doesn't equal fear.

I am me. And I'm going to be the best damn me there's ever been. Let the chips fall where they may. Hopefully, they fall in the right spots. But no matter what, forward ho, friends. Forward ho.

Put Another Shrimp on the Barbie...

When I was little, I thought that meant the girls incredibly mis-proportioned doll.

Anyway. I've only recently gotten back in to grilling. I love to grill. It's fun, I love the smell, both of the grill and of the food, and let's face it...grilled food is simply the shit. I threw some steaks on there the other night and they were so damn delectable, I was honestly depressed when they were consumed.

But the reason I hadn't been grilling much, and I know my man card is suspect here, but it's because I absolutely sucked at lighting the grill up. I would have to put copious amounts of lighter fluid on it, to the point that my face was in perpetual danger of being singed off. I grew leery, and eventually stopped.

That was, until Jessie found BBQ in a Bag. AWESOME. You light the bag! That's it! There must be some sort of accelerant coating the inside, because once the bag catches, in no time at all it's blazing, transferring to the coals, and then it dissolves away leaving the coals fired and going like gangbusters. So easy, even a Bartman can do it.

So, my overall point is...anybody have any good grilling recipes?

So Lets See...

What to talk about? Well, I got an iPhone, for I'm a slave to technology. For the same reason I talked my lovely wife in to a new TV (thanks honey!).

Erin remains irrepressibly cute, which is a good thing for her as her stinky diapers could be used as biological weapons, though I'm sure that's prohibited by the Geneva Convention.


Baseball season is right around the corner, so I'm excited about that. The Matt Wieters watch has officially begun!

Now excuse me as I watch Scrubs.

WWTD? (What Would Trent Do?)

After doing one of those "Memory of Me" meme's on Facebook, one of my old pals reminded me of how we used to obsess a bit over the show Daria, even to the point of bringing in a tape of it to watch at our theatre after a work shift (or kicking out the group as she put it).

It made me remember how so very much I wanted to be like the character Trent on that show. And how I used to always sort of go by the mantra of "What Would Trent Do?" Andi, my friend, assured me that "except for the monotone and tattoos" I was very much like Trent, though I tend to disagree.

And I'm thinking, maybe I should once again aspire to Trent-ism. Unflappable, smooth, but still coy and quick on the uptake (most of the time, Trent had his moments where he seemed like he wasn't quite awake), but most of all, he always seemed oddly insightful, and I always dug that aspect. If I can get my Trent groove back, that'd be pretty cool. I'll have to work on that.

Though I don't think I should start a band called Mystik Spiral.

Also, BIG UPS and thanks to Ben (you can find him at www.bigbenkennedy.com) for coming through on my new banner, I think it's awesome.

I..am...A TECHNO-WARRIOR!

That's right. That's my new self-bestowed title, and that's the other new feature I've been talking about. The Adventures of Bart The Techno-warrior.

My plan, which of course, falls under the category of "best laid plans," is to write these adventures as if they were a fantasy novel or, better yet, a roleplaying campaign. We'll see if I can keep that style up, but that's the plan anyway.

And thanks to my old friend Rob Sauer, I have a bad ass representation of me as Techno-Warrior:

Awwwwwwwwwesome.

Anyway, I have a few stories cookin' in my noodle, but I was tired of hinting around this new feature and not actually "poppin' it's cherry." Now that I have, I'll have more of a spur up my rear to get the actual content done...in theory.

World...

Meet Erin. Erin, meet the world. You guys get along okay now.

Born today, the 18th, at 12:26 pm. 7 lbs, 7 oz. The Queen is doing well. Your host is very giddy.

The Heiress has arrived. Now, the hard part begins. ;)

I Don't Care What Your Politics Are..

This shirt is SUPER.

Alex Ross is the man. THE MAN.

Wahey!

I broke 10k! Go me, it's my birthday, have a party...

Not Sure it's a Good Thing or a Bad Thing...

But I've never been asked to "guest blog."

Hrm.

This was a very Mega post.

Thank You Nameless Tiger Fans...

Two Saturdays ago, I went to an Orioles game where they gave out DVD's of Orioles Magic 08. As I made my way to the escalators, I saw 3 of them sitting on top of a trashcan. I assume Tiger fans who had no interest in them put them there...but they should have done what I did. After making my way up to them and nobody else grabbing them, I sure did.

And the next day, they were up on eBay.

And a week later, I'm 90 dollars richer.

You read that right. Nine-Zero Dollars richer. For a DVD that has a 2 minute video on it and maybe 10 more minutes of "making of" type stuff. That was free simply for showing up in the first place.

Thank you nameless Tiger Fans. I 'preciate it.

New Look

No readily available camera, so you'll have to settle for the Simpsons approximation.

Also, I found out the hard way that I can drift in my car. I'm fine, thanks. But let's just say that after it was all over (not gonna get in to details but if I could get drag that other driver out of his car and beat him senseless and take his license and throw it in to the Chesapeake Bay, I would), a guy behind me got me to roll my windows down to tell me "that was some incredible driving, I doubt I could have avoided that!"

Also, under 100 days until Erin is due. I'm sorry, until our guess date. We're taking a class that accentuates positive language.

The Quarter Life Crisis.

That would be the episode title if this story was an episode of How I Met Your Mother. Except they're in their mid to late 20s while I was 20...but I digress. Since I made the HIMYM reference I might as well frame this story as if it were an episode of said show.

Kids, have you ever wondered if people think to themselves, "how did I get to this place in life?" I'm sure a lot do, but I don't. I can trace my current life's direction, most especially my job, to the Quarter Life Crisis.

Some background is required. Fall of 97. I'm 19 soon to be 20. I've basically been named Assistant Manager of the retail store I was working for part time (it became official not long after). I stop going to college classes (though I obviously keep working on the shows at the theatre, because I've told quite a few stories about that particular show), but I make the mistake of not actually withdrawing from them. Cut to late winter/early spring 98. Said retail store fires me for really bogus reasons (that I heard were actually protested by a couple of store managers, which made me feel good, but let's look at this: I announced my intention to become a full manager and take over a vacant store after I basically ran the store I was an AM at until I inticed an old manager to come to it...and a week and half later, I'm being fired. Sheeeenanigans!! It's not the story, but let's just say that there was a new regional manager who had a vastly different agenda than the old, and was weeding out people she saw as being too latched in to the old...one of my old managers, right before the new RM drummed him out, tried to warn me, but I was 20 year old kid. Invincible. This was a very long parenthetical). Around the same time I receive the letter from the college, telling me that I've been academically dismissed, which is a nice way of saying "you flunked out, dumbass."

So, I learned a couple valuable lessons there...there's no such thing as job security, and if you stop going to classes, WITHDRAW FROM THEM.

Well, I guess I got used to working full time or something, because my first solution was to go to a temp agency. I started getting work almost immediately (being able to type really fast helps a lot in the temp world, no matter what gender you are, but believe it or not, I actually type faster now). Then, around late May, early June, I get an opportunity at a temp-to-hire position. Customer Service Call Center for the now defunct MCI Wireless. The first three weeks were in a isolated room being trained (though the last couple of days we started taking calls while being shadowed by an experienced employee, while being monitored by the rest of the class one by one...talk about pressure). I got in to that groove for about a month once the classes were over.

I was making decent money, but wow, not my kinda job. You were expected to always be on the phone and there were managers monitoring how long you kept your line off the queue list. But you also had to fill out a lot of paperwork depending on the nature of the call...so you'd have to learn to multi-task and do that paperwork while handling BS type calls, like angry guy doesn't like his bill, etc. That was easy, I'm not horrible at multi-tasking...but not in that enviornment. Too much stress. This was back in the days when cell phones didn't have the convenient packages with minutes per month/free nights and weekends and people used airtime WAY more so they were always pissed off at the size of their bills. And half the time I couldn't understand them because of various accents. Suffice to say, it started to take a toll on me. I really started living for lunch break and watching the clock a lot. Even though all the experienced people thought I was worth keeping, which they told me a lot. They had a lot of turnaround, after all, hence the temp-to-hire stuff.

Then, in August...The Quarter Life Crisis.

I woke up, and dragged my ass in to work. All the feelings that had been building about everything basically came to the surface at once after the first caller of the day. What am I doing? Why am I doing this? I can do better than this! Etc. I went out for a break (that was one cool thing that place had going for it...they recognized that it was unfair to let people have cigarette breaks but not give similar breaks for non-smokers), and walked around the building.

And in a way, the QLC (get it?) made me snap.

I walked back in, I grabbed the few personal effects I had at my cube, and I walked to the floor manager and said "sorry, I can't do this anymore, I'm out." And proceeded to leave while they were still spluttering.

I do kinda feel bad about just walking out, but that's why I refer to this as the QLC...I really had a form of a breakdown that day. And damn this story is long.

I didn't even drive home. A lot of the middle of that day is hazy. I remember talking to a lot of people about what happened, but the only person that I specifically remember talking to was, of all people, my then best friends then girlfriend. I think I picked her up and we went to the music store or something. Or maybe it was just on the phone...shit...like I said, really hazy. But somewhere in there, I realized I had to go back to school...that's what was really bugging me that whole time. And various people (including said ex of the ex-best friend) reinforced that. So, still under the influence of the QLC, I drive right up to the college. Wasn't that far, it was a JC after all. My first stop was the theatre...old habits die hard.

And we now get to the exact point where I can see where I am in life today from what happened 10 years ago.

I walk in to the theatre, and my friends John and Justin are there (I know I've talked about John before, he now teaches set design at LSU, not sure if I've mentioned Justin...I would live with both of these guys, and another guy, for awhile right after I got my bachelors in 03). They've worked there as house technicians for awhile, and they're doing summer work. Cleaning, maintenance, that sort of thing. But it's near the end of summer, and both of them are leaving for regular colleges in the fall. I tell them I'm finding out about getting back in to school, and they tell me that if I'm successful, to come back when I'm done. I'm like, okay. Figure they just want to talk more.

So I go to admissions or whatever they called it, and found out I could definitely come back, but I would have to write a petition letter, and once back I was on probation. First sememster back I could only take one class, and it had to be a class I failed. Next semester, assuming I passed that first class, I'd be restricted to under 12 credits for two semesters. Completing that, I'd be off probation. So, if anybody wanted to know why it took me 5 years to get my associates degree after graduating high school...that's a big part. Academic probation is a biznitch.

I head back to the theatre, and tell John and Justin the (relative) good news. They then tell me that if I needed a job, well...they were leaving and the theatre facility manager (a really good guy named Pete) was actually on his way over to check on something for them. I stuck around, and after saying hi (I knew him from the "old days" of course), John and Justin were like "hey, Bart's looking for a job, he's coming back to school." Pete practically hired me on the spot. In fact, I do believe I ended up working for him two days later in the sweltering heat, going through a big metal container (like the one in the picture) outside looking for old storage items to throw away...that was a fun day.

Anyway, that's how I first started getting paid for technicians work. And if I didn't have that under my belt, I wouldn't have gotten the student employee job when I went to my four year school, and then wouldn't have had the full time job basically handed to me once I graduated.

All thanks to that Quarter Life Crisis.

Or maybe I'm simply psychic and I knew MCI Wireless would tank...naw.

Had to be done...

Unless you're blind, you'll notice I overhauled the place. Flipped the layout, did some house cleaning, and switched over to Bloggers new blog link function. Enjoy the overhauled goodness.

Not Bad Prognasticating! (part 2)

I wish to revisit this post for a moment.

I have heard from people who have seen this already that Indiana is a mix between the Indy we remember, and his father played by Sean Connery. He even says at one point, as his father did in "Last Crusade," "This is intolerable!" But that's not what I'm going after here. Apparenately, he's referred to more as Henry in this movie than Indiana. So, I'm gonna go right ahead and say I called it again.

Not Bad Prognasticating!

So, a little over a year ago (April 12 2007) I spoke of how I was looking forward to the new Indy movie, and how I thought it should embrace his age and not overlook it. We're a little less than two weeks away from it arriving, so let's look back on it with what we know. Now, I got some things wrong, obviously. It doesn't seem like he "hung up the whip" at all. But I did say they should set it in during the Cold War era and have the enemies be the Russians. Nailed that (though I did say 70s...missed that by 20 years, but still). Said he should have a hot shot son. Well...I might have nailed that. We won't know what Shia LeBeouf's actual role is until May 22nd, they're being pretty secretive about that, but it's widely rumored that he's the child of Indy by way of Marion Ravenwood, being played once again by Karen Allen (which is awesome by the way). But his character is definitely a hotshot guy, so if he turns out to be his kid, I got that, too. Plus, in the trailer, they definitely had a moment where the music kicks in as he puts the hat on, which I said would be a goosebump like moment.

That's not bad for knowing ZERO about the movie at the time.

And a big shout out goes to Chewy, who in the comments suggested maybe an alien artifact could be used, also a good prediction. Now, the Crystal Skulls may or may not be alien, but it's definitely been reported that the movie itself will definitely explore the possibility that they could be. Which is a parallel to the time period, it's going to be a little more sci-fi than the others, because it takes place in the 50s when sci-fi serials were popular, since the other movies were based on Lucas and Spielbergs love of serials when they were kids.

For those Indy fans that poo-poo the sci-fi thing...oh shut up. You had no problem with the Ark of the Covenent spewing avenging angels and melting faces, or with Mola Ram ripping out the still beating hearts of sacrifices with his bare hands and the victim still living to be burned alive, or with the Holy Grail healing the gunshot wound of Henry Jones, Sr. There's always been sci-fi elements to these movies, but they were masked by "religious mythologies" (whether Western or Eastern) Now they're dropping that aspect (maybe). Don't get all worked up. I understand that it's trepidation from what Lucas did with the Star Wars prequels and such, but lets remember that Spielberg was on this, too, and actually directed. Not to mention that Harrison Ford is a bit of a persnippity guy and wouldn't sign off on something simply to do it. He's said he wanted to play Indy again, but he also had been turning down the script treatments for awhile.

For those that haven't seen the trailer. Take note of a few things...one, looks like the warehouse from end of Raiders, doesn't it? Also, there is a shot of a box that says Roswell, NM on it...a clear indication of the alien aspect. I love the "Damn, I thought that was closer" moment. That's classic Indy. But yes, note that thing with hat and the music kicking. Damn that gets me.

My New Endevour:

I've decided to try my hand at a little side business.

What business is that, you ask? Killing. Killing is my business, and business is good. Just kidding, I had a random moment where I felt like quoting a Megadeth album title.

No, this is my new project:
http://www.myspace.com/bart_rs_setups


Basically, minor guitar work. For those that don't play, guitars need to be periodically "set up" and if you have the know how and equipment, you can do it yourself. Most guitarists don't bother and go to a guy, or usually, a music store, and have it done. I've decided to try to become "the guy" for people in the area. I've already had a few clients, and they seemed pretty pleased. I'm hoping something comes of this, because I enjoy doing this stuff, and you really meet some interesting people doing this sort of thing. Like this cat: www.allen-jones.com Helluva nice guy, and he's one of those "done it, seen it all" kind of guys that you could talk to for hours.

So, wish me luck with this foray in to uncharted territory, and for my local friends...talk me up, man!

Also, are you enjoying the Twitter updates? I think I may move it down one slot because it looks like it sits high and weird to me.

Goodbye Spidey?

A while back, I talked about how I was a rock star, facetiously of course. I think I mentioned how my guitar was modified to look like Spider-Man's mask. Well, I think I also mentioned that I'd put a picture up some day. Well, now is a good time as any because I have decided to get a new pickguard. I kinda want to play a guitar that looks like an adult owns it. I still think it's cool, but you know. Have to get the pickguard custom made though, because the guitar is long since discontinued. Gonna go matte black, which I think will look nice with the the dark blue of the guitar. I saw the exact scheme on another guitar and liked it.

Well, anyway, here it is. Spidey, as he looks today.

You Take Better Pictures!

Took these from the plane on the way to Vegas. Rocky Mountains from way up high.

Yeah, I rule, I know.

I'm Not Saying...

But I'm saying...

I'm a Marketing Genius

With all these new low-cal hydrators hitting the market, like Gatorades G2, completely marketing themselves as having lower calories as the "in game" hydration drinks, or whatever, I think I can make a killing.

I'm gonna sell my tap water.

Here you go folks. Natural hydration, with zero calories! YOU CAN'T LOSE!

Christ, people are stupid. Drink water, take a separate vitamin. Unless you're an athlete, you don't really "need" Gatorade. Even the low cal stuff.