I owe it to the Internet

For many years I have frequented websites where people are very open about the situations they’re in and how they’re handling them, to get a fresh perspective on things in my own life. I however, have been a notoriously private person.  Recently, Lisa approached me with the idea of documenting our process of moving in together for Logan’s financial blog, Billfold.  I said sure right away, but then started to think, I’m putting this out there for the entire world to read.  It’s not like this blog where three people read it, that site has a large readership.  Our first piece went up and I was quite nervous as I looked at it for the first time.  When I saw in the comments sections that there were people in similar situations, excited to see how we were approaching it because they were having trouble navigating their own move, it hit me; for so long I have looked to other people’s writing to help me through life’s trials and tribulations, now the tables have turned. I have always been very thankful for other’s openness and I feel I owe it to the Internet to return the favor.

If you want to follow our adventure into cohabitation below is the link to part 1.  

http://thebillfold.com/2012/11/lisa-and-bryan-are-moving-in-together-great-idea-swell-idea/

Enjoy.

New York

I didn't have much time for picture taking this weekend but was able to pick off a few shots.

Enjoy.

Bartsowed

A few weekends ago we were once again out in Barstow in support of ANJ motorsports.  Phil and I were stationed at mile marker 20.  With the team clicking off lap times around an hour I had some time to play around with my camera.

Enjoy.

Breakfast Food

I just made a salad at 9am for breakfast.  I know, I'm supposed to eat eggs and bacon, but a salad sounded better.  What makes a breakfast food a breakfast food?  Why do certain foods have time restrictions?  You can have steak and eggs for breakfast, but try and go to a nice steak house and order eggs with your t-bone, see how they react to your request.  Why can steak make the jump and not eggs? There are places where you can get breakfast 24 hours a day, and they usually us it as a selling point.  Hey, look at us, were breaking the rules, we serve breakfast all day long, if you want to be a rebel come inside.  When I was a kid it was a treat, “we are having breakfast for dinner”, awesome, “hey Nate, we’re having breakfast for dinner!”  Maybe we just all need to live by the Roscoe’s philosophy, fried chicken and waffles, all day everyday.

Cage fights and waterfalls, a trip to Portland

Some pics from Portland.

 Enjoy.

Is Jesus making a power play?

His shirt read, “Jesus is God”.  I thought Jesus was the son of God?  Is Jesus trying to take over power?  Are these shirts the first step in his campaign?  It’s a classic story line, son feels like it is his time to step up and take over power, he feels the father is too old and no longer able to do his duties. Only this time it's told with the supreme father/son duo.  What’s next for Jesus’ campaign for power?  Will he begin to appear to people in times of “miracles” and say, “you see that, I did that shit right there, it was me, when you are thanking God, you are thanking me, I am God now, remember that.” Will God retaliate? Fight to stay on top? Maybe appear in visions, blaming Jesus for the bad economy or global warming.  “I gave him the slightest bit of power and look what has happened to the world! Can you imagine if he has all the power?”  Jesus retorts, “don’t forget who died for your sins, that was me on the cross…for you”. This could be an ugly battle.  Maybe 12-21-12 is when father and son finally take it out to the front lawn, have it out, and see if the old man’s still got it or if the torch will be taken, not passed.

Soundtrack to channel changing

Anyone who watches television in America has subconsciously been brainwashed.  When you hear the first note of the song you immediately dive for the remote, trying desperately to change the channel, fast forward, rewind, or just turn off the TV.  You hear that voice, “in the arms of an angel”, you don’t even have to see the screen, you know what sad puppy is staring at you, helpless.  You look away, fumble with the remote, trying to make it stop.  This is not the reaction you want from a commercial who’s sole purpose is to get people to donate money to your organization.  I couldn’t tell you what the organization is or how I would go about giving them money if I wanted to, all I know is that I never want to see that commercial.  Could the marketing genius behind that commercial still possibly be employed? How is that commercial still being used? How about you show me some happy dogs and tell me the only way they can stay happy is with a donation from me, I like a happy dog, might even give you some money. 

Do you think Sarah McLachlan would have ever guessed she would have the official soundtrack to channel changing? I wonder if it says that on her Wikipedia page?

Finding trust in the ones and zeros

I was mid email when I heard the ding, a new email had arrived.  It could wait until after I finished composing the email currently in front of me, however modern day ADD was over-whelming.  There was something new and shiny waiting for me, what could it be. Save as draft, inbox.  A message from the friendly people at Google, “It appears someone has attempted to access your account from Denmark.  We have blocked the attempt, please click the link to change your password.”  Wait a second, isn’t that how hackers get your password? By sending you an official-looking email saying you need to change your password for security purposes and then when you type in your current password…Bam! They got you. Back to the draft, finish, send.  Now back to this password issue, wait my cell phone is now saying it can’t access my email, password is incorrect.  Quickly log out of Gmail and try to log back in, immediate prompt to change password, no choice.  I do it, still thinking it might be a trap.  I have no way of knowing who’s real and who’s not, because none of them are real.  They’re all just anonymous email addresses, digital files.  When I walk into my bank and an employee tells me something, I believe it, when Chase.com tells me something, I am always curious if it’s really them…what if a one became a zero?

Another day in the dessert

Here is a video I put together from the last ANJ race.  A second place finish put them First in points for the series.

Vegas

The residue of torched tobacco hit my eyes before my nostrils and I had only made it to the parking garage elevator.  Within hours my throat was scratchy, my eyes were watering, and my wallet was quite a bit lighter.   Luckily the next morning we were up early and heading away from the windowless ashtray filled with felt tables that seem to never stop calling your name. 

We got to Red Rock for our planned hike and quickly abandoned the leisurely walking trail and began to climb.  Adam, aka the billy goat, pressed ahead, every time we looked, he had scaled another peak, and we followed.  Sitting atop one of the large rock masses we conquered, looking out over a beautiful panoramic view, I realized I would've never guessed one of my best times in Vegas would happen outdoors.

Here are a few pics of the “other” Vegas. 

Organ donor

For many years the MacBook given to me by a friend has faithfully served me.  She has traveled many places with me, been my scribe, recording my life.  Sadly, she has started to slow down and I've had to supplement her with a younger, stronger, MacBook pro.  Recently it was decided that she would become an organ donor.  I will be performing the operation myself; she is in good hands. I am putting her original 60gb hard drive back in, while her current 300gb hard drive will be donated to a much more vibrant Playstation 3.  She will still be able get around the Internet and do some light work, but her memory won't be as good; she will no longer be taking on large projects.  If she seems up for the travel, I'm thinking about taking her on my next trip.  

It's funny how a computer can become a travel companion, a confidant, an iFriend. 

Why don't you just wear his letterman jacket

When I see a grown man wearing the jersey of their favorite player, I can't help but see the resemblance to a girl wearing her boyfriend's letterman jacket.  It's fine for a kid, they look up to these players, want to be them, as a man it screams, "why don't you just marry him if you like him so much?" I'm guilty of it, I have a shirt that says Fedor across the front (he is a legendary MMA fighter), I might as well be wearing his chain.  Face it boys, you look like you slept over at his place and all he had for you to wear home was one of his jerseys. 

My instrument and me

Iron and Wine were performing on Austin City Limits. A large ensemble of musicians, and there in the back, a man and a clarinet.  He starts a solo, the camera focuses on him, he is being featured. I too played the clarinet, but there was never once a moment where I felt proud doing it. From elementary school all the way to the high school marching band, never did I think my instrument was cool. Eventually I quit and moved on to the much cooler golf team.  My quitting was for the best for all parties involved, I couldn’t march and play at the same time.  I never actually played a note during a performance, just held my instrument and focused on marching; my mom would be saddened to know that I was faking it the whole time.  As he killed his solo I began to watch closely, examining his performance, and there it was, I saw it, it still wasn’t cool.  He was in a suit, rather than a marching band uniform, he was playing in a cool band, not playing Louie Louie, and yet…still not cool.  For a moment he gave me hope, but alas I still wish I had played trumpet.

Priorities people...priorities

I'm not one to hate Wal-Mart, many people are, but I love a deal so no hatred here. That being said, the minute I stepped into this particular Wal-Mart, on this particular day, I knew it was a mistake. I found the item I was in need of and made my way to the register. As I got closer to the line of registers I saw the hoard, large, teeth missing, out of breath from just standing, with a gaggle of matching little clones. This sounds like an exaggeration but sadly it’s not. As I stood there in a line of the dredges of society I couldn't help but smile at the astonishing fact that myself and these masses exist as the same species.

The wonderfully white-trash woman in front of me reached the register and unloaded the items from her cart. Its contents contained the following, a gallon sized jar of mayonnaise, a tub of butter larger than my dogs food bowl, a sack of sugar that could double as a sand bag in a flood, and one tomato. The last thing removed from her cart were sales papers from several other grocery stores, which she was using for price matching purposes, in order to save a life changing 76 cents. The last item to be rung up was the misfit tomato, amongst a group where it didn't belong. When the price came up on the display the woman asked in shock, "how much was that tomato?" After the price was confirmed as $1.03, she immediately asked for it to be taken off her purchase, as it was an outrageous price. Of all the items, the one that might help to de-leatherize her skin, and allow her to lift her 55-gallon drum of mayonnaise without breaking a sweat, had to be removed.

I completed my purchase, exited to my car, and maneuvered my vehicle through the grazing patterns of the patrons, towards the driveway. As I sat at the red light waiting to return to humanity, I looked in my mirror and saw the same woman sitting in her car behind me, and wouldn't you know, she was sucking down a cigarette, one long drag after another. That cigarette was removed from a pack with an estimated value of $6, a purchase that she gladly made...that $1 tomato however, was overpriced.

Priorities people...priorities

I would get sued for that

Almost two years ago now, in the wee hours of my 30th birthday, I sat in a suit and tie and used my cousin’s wife to demonstrate how great I would be at firing people. I had what I believed to be the perfect balance between entertaining myself and leaving no doubt to the person being fired as to what was happening. Here is a description of how I did it. Even though she wasn’t really being fired, I brought her to tears. I can’t remember for sure if she really cried, but I can say for certain she was on the verge.

After telling Lisa the other day that I was good at firing people, it occurred to me that I would get sued for firing people the way I demonstrated that night. I would be called abusive, they would be called traumatized, the whole thing would be an ordeal. All because of the words I used to construct my sentences hurt their feelings. If I used a different set of words to say the same thing, they move on, we part ways, and all is copacetic. But if I use the set of words I used that night, they feel they have a right to ask a court of law to take my money and give it to them…because their feelings were hurt. If that doesn’t prove that they deserved to be mother-fuckin’ fired, I don’t know what does.

Fatherhood is making our brains malfunction

I watched a man talk about the role he plays as a father. He said he works all day and then is expected to be at all the games, and not just all the games but he is expected to be at the practices too. Then he is expected to clean the kitchen when he gets home because his wife also works. He kept saying he was “expected to”. I thought, you shouldn’t feel expected to do those things, you should want to do them, you should want to be at practice and the games. That is what being a dad is. After further thought I realized its not what being a dad used to be. Being a dad used to mean making sure other animals didn’t eat your family, and that your family was feed and didn’t starve to death so they could carry on the species. Now a father is expected to work a job (and it seems like every job is stressful these days), plus worry about paying for a house in a good neighborhood, paying for his kid’s college education, and keeping his daughter off the stripper pole. The role of father has become infinitely more complicated and our brains aren’t designed for it, they are designed for protect and feed. Our brains are malfunctioning, “I’m expected to” is a brain malfunction, you feel expected to because your brain is saying, “we’re just supposed to feed them and make sure they don’t die, what the fuck is all this other stuff?”

I say this all from the point of view of single man with no children observing from the outside, but I have to say… I think I would rather go try to kill something for dinner.

Ladies stop dropping your babies!

Woman lifts car to save her trapped baby reads the headline. We’ve all heard the story, a baby is trapped under a car, the mother somehow gets superhuman strength, lifts the car, and saves the baby. What I didn’t know was how often this actually happens. Recently I listened to a gentleman discuss how he had researched these stories and in fact they are true. Furthermore, he said there were many, many examples. How are all these babies getting trapped under cars? I have never met a baby that was trapped under a car, have you? Are women just dropping their babies and the babies are rolling under the car? Just lie down and get the baby. Isn’t it harder to get the baby when you’re hands are full lifting a car? Ladies stop dropping your babies under the car, and if you do, stop panicking and lifting the car to get it, you're going to hurt yourself.

Perfect American Part 3

In the first two installments of my Perfect American series I illustrated how I’m a perfect American because of my impatience and wastefulness, i.e. pouring water down the drain that had been sitting out too long because it may have gone bad. On the recommendation of a friend I visited Chris Jordan’s website to take a look at his photography projects and what I discovered were not only amazing photos but also a collection of amazing art projects that visually represent just how wasteful we are as Americans. In one installment he features images that are made up of used oil barrels, discarded cell phones, etc. When first looking at the images you can’t tell they are composed of one specific item but as you zoom in it becomes clear that his medium is waste. Each image contains a specific number of items, one is made up of 106,000 aluminum cans, the number used in the US every thirty seconds. As you read the descriptions and take the journey as the images zoom, it becomes an eye opening experience. Another project features decaying seagull corpses. The decay reveals their stomach content which is mostly human trash, plastic bottle caps, lighters, etc. It is a stark reminder that other species stomachs are now becoming our landfills.

Here are links to these projects.

Running the Numbers: An American Self-Portrait

Midway: Message from the Gyre

Enjoy.