Boy, I sure hope (insert year) is better than (insert previous year)!

I've noticed this on Facebook over the past few years. Every December, people start putting up their "I sure hope next year is better than this last year!" as their status updates. In 2009, everyone was hoping it would be better than their 2008's. Same goes for the dawn of 2010. If I would have believed the hype as 2010 was approaching, I would have thought that 2009 may have been the worst year in history. It seemed like almost everybody was complaining about their 2009 like it was the worst thing that had ever happened to them. I have a couple of responses to this.

First off - If the previous year was so bad for you, it's up to you to make the next year better. Granted, I know that a lot of bad things happen to people that are beyond our control. But how one feels and reacts to adversity is all a matter of perception. Kimberly and I tried unsuccessfully to get pregnant through the better part of 2007. We failed numerous times, despite fertility drugs and procedures. However, as 2008 started, we didn't count 2007 as a failure. We didn't say "I sure hope 2008 is better than 2007...what an awful year 2007 was". We just looked forward to the next year in hopes that our efforts would be fruitful. It's all how you choose to look at things.

Secondly - It seems like it's the same people that are posting these things every year. Even if I did believe in the concept of a "bad year", are these people having a "bad three years"? I doubt it. I bet these people are just looking at bad things that happened over the course of these years and deciding that these things will be the focal point of their memory. Did nothing good happen during these three years? I bet it did.

I guess everything goes back to my first point. Be positive. In 2009, our septic system shut down, and we had to completely replace it. It ran in the neighborhood of $10,000 that we had to split between two credit cards. As a result, our monthly credit card statements are still outrageous. We're still feeling the aftershocks of that hit to our finances, and it'll be a loooooong time before that's all paid off. I don't by any means think that 2009 was a bad year, though.

Like I said before, I know things happen that are beyond our control. Things we'd like to forget or have never lived through. These things happen, though. It's up to us as to how we react to them and how we move on.

That being said...I hope 2011 is just as good as 2010, but better than 1978 (because if 1978 was better, I will be bummed that I missed it by not being born yet)

Thirty Something

A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself.

Dear Daniel,
I don't think you're dopey.

Love, Daniel.

Twenty-Nine is mighty fine

Something you hope to change about yourself. And Why.

It's stupid, but here it is. Every fast food place has combo meals. They generally consist of a sandwich, fries, and a drink. Of course, one has the option of upsizing this combo to include a large fries and drink as well.

Going back to my "I'm a super-big guy who doesn't care about my weight" days, I used to have the idea stuck in my head that the average combo meal didn't really apply to me. I would get the meal. I would upsize it (of course), and then, just because it wasn't "enough" for me, I'd throw in an extra sandwich...you know, for good measure.

I apologize...I'm speaking in the past-tense, which is inaccurate. I still do this. Given all of my work I've done to lose weight - all the miles I put on the bike and all the hours I put in at the gym, I still refuse to believe that the standard combo meal is enough for me.

McDonalds - Number 10 Value Meal, large fries and drink, plus a double-cheeseburger.
Wendy's - 3 orders of 5-piece nuggets, plus a jr. bacon cheeseburger.
Five Guys - Five Guys is the worst - A bacon cheese dog, plus a large order of fries (if you aren't familiar with the Five Guys fries situation - a regular order might as well be two orders...the large order is insanely too much for one person...probably two). Then, if that wasn't enough...they have awesome grilled cheese sandwiches, too. Well, I have to throw in one of those, since they're so good.

Basically, I eat waaaaaaay too much. I need to change it. Problem is, my body is used to that amount, so when I don't eat that much (or even when I do sometimes), I still feel hungry just an hour or two after eating it.

I have maintained my weight loss, surprisingly, but in the past month and a half, I have not lost any more. I still have 30-40 pounds to go, and if I would just take this simple step of eating portions that I should have, that would certainly help.

Makes me mad about myself.

Twenty-Eight Days Later

What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?

Look...I try to be a good person. I generally live with the consequences of my decisions. In this situation, though, I just don't know if I could handle it. I'm just not ready for that kind of responsibility. I think I'd have to split. I'd probably move out of state and pretend that it never happened. I'm sure my wife would be upset, since we've been married six years and already have one kid, but I just don't think I can handle two, you know?

Twenty-Seven (things)

What's the best thing going for you right now?

Dang...what's not going for me right now? As evidenced by the above title, I will just make a list. Let's say, oh, twenty-seven things that I have "going for me right now"

1. I have an awesome wife who takes care of me.
2. I have an awesome kid who makes me laugh daily.
3. I have a house that I love, not to mention that is centrally located within a convenient distance of everything I need.
4. I see family every day.
5. Both of our cars work just fine at the moment.
6. I have a good job that I've held for a long time.
7. My current bosses are great, flexible, and fun.
8. I will soon have new bosses, and I'm excited about the potential growth of the business (well, like 65 percent excited, 35 percent worried).
9. All of our Christmas decorations are already up.
10. I see most of my friends on a regular basis.
11. I'm in a band that is still fun to play in.
12. As a result of playing in this band and being challenged to learn very difficult songs, I am an exponentially better musician than I used to be. I feel like I would be comfortable taking on just about any project that came my way (not that any are, but still...). I like that I'm still loose and not rusty at playing my instrument.
13. I play weekly pick-up hockey with my buddies, which is great fun.
14. My mom is so awesome that she watches Cohen and Martha every day.
15. My dad always has the exact advice I need, be it about car maintenance, home upkeep, or anything else.
16. I have great relationships with my brother (who I laugh with every time I see him) and my sister (who stays in constant contact with me, basically throughout every day).
17. The Falcons are 9-2.
18. The Braves just signed Dan Uggla.
19. While Kimberly and I are not wealthy by any means, we make enough to pay our bills, which can sometimes be overwhelming.
20. I'm making positive strides in becoming healthier.
21. Um, it sounds pretty cheesy, but I feel that Cohen has a really cool dad, and Kimberly has a really cool husband. Some of Kimberly's teacher friends and their kids can't necessarily say that about their husbands/fathers, who may or may not be rednecks or dorks.
22. I have a ton of customers who insist on dealing exclusively with me because they like my work, which is always nice for the ol' self esteem.
23. I live a 97 percent drama-free life.
24. I live literally 3.5 miles from the stadium of a minor league baseball team, which happens to be a farm team for my favorite major league team (I also get to make player locker nameplates for some of the players who will eventually be Cohen's sports heroes).
25. I have a gym membership that only costs $5 a month...I get waaaaay more than my money's worth on that one.
26. I'm pretty sure Cohen's favorite word is "Daddy"
27. Last but certainly not least, I get to see Kimberly naked on a daily basis. Living. The. Dream.

Wow...it really wasn't nearly as hard to come up with this list as I thought it would be. When it comes down to it, I guess I really can't complain about much of anything. I'm incredibly happy. I have everything I need (tangible and intangible) plus a ton of stuff that I don't necessarily need, but want.

And yesterday's question was asking me about giving up on life!

Twenty-Six*

Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?

I think about it yearly...when baseball season comes to an end. I just can't handle the despair that comes along with knowing that I'm going to have to wait another six months for the next season to begin.

Seriously, though...I never have. I cannot think of a scenario outside of a 100% terminal illness that would make me want to give up on life. And even then, that would only be if I have progressed to the point where there is ABSOLUTELY no chance left, and the pain is ABSOLUTELY unbearable.

I've always been a "glass is half full" kind of guy.

*I am unable to come up with any kind of pop culture reference having to do with the number twenty-six. If you think of one I missed, please plug it in and pretend that it's the title of this blog post.

In The Year Twenty-Five Twenty-Five

The reason you believe you're still alive today.

I used to hang out at this river which sprung from a lake. I knew this river. I knew the lake. I was used to the river and lake. One day, I started at the lake and went down the river...farther than I had ever been before. The rapids became a little rougher than I liked, but I kept going. After a while, I saw in the distance what appeared to be the river simply disappearing in a cloud of mist. As I got closer, I realized that I was approaching a pretty significant waterfall. I went close to the edge. I wanted to go over the waterfall. I thought of the thrill of falling into the unknown. How far was the drop? How deep was the water at the bottom? I wanted so badly to do it. I was about to do it. I wanted to have it my way...or nothing at all. Right before I chased that waterfall to my certain death, I remembered the wise words of T-Boz, Chili, and Left Eye. I realized that I was moving too fast, so I turned back and stuck to the river. And the lake. That I'm used to.

Quick break from answering questions...

I actually have something to talk about without being prompted by a list of questions today!

The Last Chucks are in the studio this weekend. A real-live, big boy studio, with soundproofing, a control room, and everything. Despite having recorded maybe about 45-50 songs in my life, this is my first time doing anything in a real, professional studio. This is also our first time recording anything since May of 2008, when we recorded three songs over the course of a weekend. We're doing three days (Saturday, Sunday, Monday), and trying to get seven songs done. If you know how recording works (and if you know Mike), this would sound very daunting, and possibly undoable. This is a quick run-down of how recording works...or at least how we do it.

Day 1: (After a few hours of setting up, getting levels right, getting bass sound right, etc.)Drums are priority number one. All three of us play together, and all three of us are recording what we play. The guitar is basically just a scratch track, used for reference later, when the guitar is actually tracked. The bass can go either way. If a take is good on drums, we keep it. If a take is good on drums and bass, well, that's just a bonus. With our time limitations, we have to finish all the drums in one day, so they take precedence. If I mess up on bass, but the drums are good, we move on, and I re-track the bass later.

Day 2: Guitars are king. Goose and I actually won't be in the studio at all today. Today is all Mike. He's starting around noon and basically playing guitar all day. This will kill his fingers. I know this because after 6 hours of bass last night, it hurts to type right now. I washed my hands with warm water today, and my left index finger stung at the warmth of the water. And don't even get me started about the blister on my right thumb!

Day 3: Vocals, remaining bass, extras. While day two will have killed Mike's fingers, day three will kill his voice. He will be singing basically all day. I will be doing a lot of backup vocals, totalling maybe 1/3 of what Mike will be doing. In addition, what bass I didn't finish on Day 1, I will do this day. Lastly, we will be throwing in a lot of percussion type stuff and finishing touches: piano, sleigh bells, tambourine, hand claps, etc.

HOW WE'RE DOING SO FAR

Day one was a smashing success in my opinion. We were planning on being in the studio at 3:00. Because the people before us were running late, we didn't get in until just after 5:00 (you find that EVERY aspect of recording utilizes one virtue: patience). We were planning on being done by midnight. Actually, our time estimation was pretty dead on. We ended up finishing for the night around 2:00. Given that we started 2 hours late and ended exactly 2 hours late, I have to say it was a pretty good guess as to how long it would take to do what we needed to do.

Drums were great. Goose never ceases to amaze me. Seriously, these are some complicated songs...especially where the drums are concerned. That was no problem for Goose, though. Dude knocked it out of the park.

Our hope was to do 7 songs. We really only needed to do 5, and we had two extra songs that we'd get done if time allowed. We actually got the drums down (and nearly flawless) for all 7 songs. As an added bonus, the bass was good for 5 of the 7, meaning that I will only have to play bass for two more songs on Monday. Granted, they are the two hardest songs of the seven, but I didn't really expect to have them down the first night anyway.

Despite a few frustrating moments and a couple of times I had to bite my tongue, I drove home feeling really good about our progress.

So that's where we are now. Day two will be starting for Mike any minute now. He will likely go late into tonight, and hopefully when I arrive tomorrow for the final day, all the guitars will be done and we'll still be on schedule.

By the way...Matt, our engineer, is awesome. He is really easy-going, and really seems to know his stuff. With him recording, and Jason mixing for us, we're bound to have some really good, professional-sounding stuff when this is all said and done.

Twenty-Four*

Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you shoce all the songs.

At first I thought this one was pretty lame. Then, after I thought about it, I realized the direction popular music is (and has been) headed. Therefore, not only do I think it's not a terrible idea, but it may actually be beneficial in the long run.

This playlist is dedicated to Cohen. The reason isn't all mushy and lovey-dovey. It's so by the time he's a teenager, he'll know what good music is (was). Admittedly, some of the songs may be inappropriate for a kid, so maybe I won't play him some of this stuff until he's older. Also, note that this isn't in any particular order. I just don't have time for that.

1. Guns N Roses - Sweet Child O' Mine
This is my hands-down favorite song of all time. Awesome lead guitars, good vocals, nice aesthetics. It's an all around good song. There are a ton of little things going on through the song that the average person wouldn't catch, but a musician (or a fan of writing/arranging/the recording process) is more likely to hear and appreciate these things.

2. Buckcherry - Time Bomb
Sure, the chorus states "Life ain't nothin' but bitches and money", but I put this song on the list for a couple of reasons: (A) Man, it's just a good song, regardless of the appropriateness of the lyrics. It's catchy as all get out, plus it features Josh Todd, a vocalist who is very distinct. Maybe he doesn't have the best voice in the world, but what he has fits perfectly with the music he's playing, and (B) I think a lesson can be learned that sometimes you listen to good music for the simple fact that it's good music. Even if the content isn't ideal, sometimes there's just no mistaking a good rock and roll band. I can also point out to Cohen that Josh Todd, while he sings about drugs and sex, is actually married, has kids, and is completely sober (which is the truth). Sometimes entertainers "play a part". The public persona isn't always what is real (read: don't judge a book by its cover).

3. The Darkness - I Believe In a Thing Called Love
Sometimes songs are serious, sometimes they're fun, and sometimes they're just silly. This one falls in that last category. It's a hard rock song sung in all falsetto. Despite its being silly, somehow, it's really good, too.

4. Dwight Yoakam - Guitars, Cadillacs
While rock and roll is my music of choice, that doesn't mean all other genres are bad. I have 35 Dwight Yoakam songs on my iPod, and I had a hard time picking one because I think they're all great.

5. The Last Chucks - Bluebird Revisited
Of course Cohen would need to hear his daddy play! This is the first of two Chucks song I'm putting on the list. I chose this one because it's catchy and fun. It's very technical, too. The bass (what I play on it) is extremely fast, involved, and difficult to play, but the average person would never catch that.

6. The Last Chucks - Homeless Romantic
While I picked the last one because of its catchiness, I picked this one because of the weirdness. The time changes constantly. It fits absolutely no song-writing formula. Maybe Cohen will be a musician when he's older. If this is the case, he will appreciate the crap out of the technicalities of this song.

7. Five Iron Frenzy - Every New Day
While some (most) of the music I listen to is for fun, sometimes lyrics can be so meaningful, it will make a man cry. That's all I have to say about this song.

8. In Stereo - Waking Up
Not all the best bands become nationally famous. This is the case with this band. You've never heard of them. I've barely heard of them. They are (were, actually...they are no more as far as I know) a local Atlanta band that released one EP, and that's it. This song is on all my "fun songs" playlists, though.

9. John Mayer Trio - Everyday I Have the Blues
I'm pretty sure this was originally done by BB King, but the JMT version is pretty great. Once in a while, you just want to hear some good blues.

10. Robert Randolph and the Family Band - Going in the Right Direction
Is it Funk? Is it rock and roll? I don't know. What I do know, though, is that it has lots of soul, and it will make anyone want to dance. Lead singer plays a lap steel, which doesn't really fit either of the genres I mentioned. It sounds so good, though. I fell in love with this band the first time I ever heard them. They played on some awards show back in 2004 with Earth, Wind, and Fire. RR&TFB were better.

I'm sure I could come up with more, but I think ten is sufficient for now. This is probably a pretty long post as it is already.

*As in the Fox hit series, 24

Nobody Likes You When You're Twenty-Three

Something you wish you had done in your life.

Didn't I answer this on day four? That question was, "Something you hope to do in your life". Similar question, but not exactly the same, I guess. My answer then was a short tour with a band. I guess since I said that already, I'll have to think of something else.

I guess there are a ton of things I wish I had done...chances I could have taken.

The first one that comes to mind is that I wish I would have pushed more with Anthem. While that sounds good on the surface, I know there is no way we would have actually made a real career out of it. We just would have lasted longer and ended later. Brent, Jason, and Carrie may not have moved to Orlando...which would have changed a lot of things. Brent and Cyndi probably wouldn't have gotten married (Brent has told me that the year in FL away from Cyndi was what made him sure she was the one for him). Jason and Carrie might not have gotten married, either (who knows, right?). Had they not gone to Orlando, Jason wouldn't have gone to Full Sail, and may not have the sweet freelance gig he has now. A lot of people would be in different places right now, and this is likely a bad thing.

So strike that first answer.

Another thing would be my track record with girls back when I was a teenager. There were opportunities to date certain girls that I didn't take. This was mostly a result of my shyness and insecurities. Had I dated (or made a move on) some (or even one) of those girls that I totally had a chance with, my entire "romantic history" could have changed. If I was dating Girl A, then maybe I wouldn't have dated Girl B. If I had kissed [name withheld] back, when she kissed me that one night, then things would have been different and I wouldn't have started dating Kimberly a couple of weeks later. Therfore, I likely wouldn't be where I am today.

So strike that second answer.

OH! I've got it! Here's an opportunity I wish I would have handled differently that wouldn't have had a lasting impact on where I am today.

When I was 12 years old, I played in the youth church basketball league. We weren't really that good. If there were 12 games in a season, I bet we lost 10 of them. However, on one (nearly) glorious Saturday morning, we were playing Donelson First Baptist, who was in first place in the league. We were down 28-27, with less than a minute left in the game. They took a shot and missed. I got the rebound with less than ten seconds left. I dribbled downcourt and at (what I thought was) the last opportunity, I hurled the ball toward our goal. It fell short. Really short. Like, 8 feet short.

I was upset, of course. What was more embarrassing that losing the game, though, was my terrible time-management skills. There were a full 5 seconds left on the clock when I made that shot. In reality, I had time to run all the way down and drop in a layup. Instead, the ball went out of bounds, and DFB had the opportunity to inbound it and hold on to it for the remaining few seconds. Had I not gotten caught up in the moment, I could live my life today knowing that I was a hero that one day in 1990.

That's something I wish I had done.

Catch Twenty-Two

Something you wish you hadn't done in your life.


Started smoking. Some would call it peer pressure. I don't think I would...not direct peer pressure, anyway. None of my friends actively asked me to smoke, or tried to persuade me in any way. I just tried it one day. I didn't like it. That should have been the end of the story, but it wasn't. I decided to make myself like it. I was 21 years old when I started smoking. I figured it'd probably be a phase, and I'd be done within a year or so. Obviously, that wasn't the case. I'm 31 now, and despite my wanting to quit (and having actually tried numerous times), I still haven't been mentally able to shake it. To top it off, some of the friends that I hung out with during the time I started have now quit. Not me, though.

If you don't smoke (or haven't smoked), you won't understand this, but it's just not as easy as setting it down and not picking it back up. If it were, I would have quit on the day of my wedding (the first time I "quit"...that actually lasted an entire week). I would have quit on the day Cohen was born (that time lasted about a day). I would have quit 6 months ago (I made it 36 hours that time).

So...yeah. That's it. I want to quit. I have no plan of action at the present moment. And here we are.

Twenty-One Guns*

Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?

Wouldn't happen.

First off, all of my friends are excellent drivers. Next, a friend and I would never get in a fight, because I am awesome, and I only surround myself with other awesome people.

Mostly, though. It's because I never let a grudge go. If, in the seemingly impossible scenario, a friend and I did get into a fight, that jerkface would obviously not be worthy of being a friend of mine and therfore, from that moment on, would no longer be my friend. Using this logic, it is impossible for my best friend to be in a car accident an hour after having a fight with me.

*Alternate title: 21 Jump Street

Matchbox Twenty*

Your views on drugs and alcohol.
(when I mention "drugs", I will be referring only to illegal drugs...duh)

There are a couple of different ways of looking at it. There's the legal standpoint and the responsibility standpoint.

First off is the legal standpoint: Well, we all know what the laws are concerning both of these things. Alcohol is legal, so long as the drinker is old enough, does not drive intoxicated, and is not drunk in public (which, I guess is up to interpretation...I mean, there are bars). Drugs are obviously illegal.

From a responsibility standpoint:
Drugs: I guess there's a time and a place for everything. Of course, some drugs are very addictive and can ruin one's life, should the person allow them to take control. I can never see a right time or place to smoke crack or shoot heroin. Pot, I guess, can be different. I personally will never do it (again...I did it once about ten years ago, so I'm all set). Honestly, I think it's kind of stupid. I don't necessarily think it's wrong (outside of the obvious issue of it being illegal), but I just don't see the appeal.

I actually had an opportunity to smoke pot very recently. I was at a friend's house a couple of weeks ago. Three of us were standing outside talking about music or movies or something, and one of the guys said (in a stoner-sounding voice), "So, you guys wanna smoke some weed?" The other guy and I just kind of chuckled and said, "Nah, I'm all good". He replied, "Okay, I'm gonna go inside and smoke some weed". I decided about ten minutes later that it was time for me to leave.

I didn't necessarily have a problem with a bunch of people sitting around in a house smoking some pot. It didn't affect me or anyone else other than the people that chose to do it. I just didn't want to be a part of it. I mean, I'm a grown up, right?

Alcohol: I've had my indulgences just like most everyone else. I actually don't really like alcohol for the most part. Occasionally (rarely...like 3-4 times a year), though, I will drink some. Most times it goes well. Occasionally it does not. I guess there's not much of a fundamental difference (from a responsibility standpoint) between acting stupidly as a result of alcohol versus acting stupidly as a result of weed (again, outside of the obvious issue of legality). I guess that doing either responsibly is okay. I just don't like one and don't mind the other.

I guess it boils down to the first point. One is legal (with conditions) and the other is not. That's all there is to it, really. Do what you want, but be prepared to deal with the consequences (legal or otherwise).

*Getting into these higher numbers, it's hard to find interesting pop culture references for titles

Party like it's NINETEEN ninety-nine

What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?

My facebook profile information says it all:

Religious Views: Yeah, I got 'em.
Political Views: Got those too.

Eighteen and Life*

Your views on gay marriage

I would have to agree with my sister on this one. Yes, it may be biblically wrong (actually, if I understand correctly, the act of gay sex is biblically wrong...I do not know if there's a specific mention of gay marriage...but, I would understand the argument...six of one, half a dozen of the other). Regardless, it is not my place to judge anyone. Who am I to say that the law should prevent someone from doing something just because it is not what I personally would want to do? It has absolutely no effect on me or my day-to-day life, and I am yet to see a reason it should or would. It does absolutely nothing to the "sanctity" of the union I have with my own wife (which is about the dumbest argument I've heard against gay marriage to date).

There are many different ways of looking at the issue (whether one chooses to be gay vs. being born gay, whether the bible is a good basis for lawmaking, etc), but in the long run, I am for personal freedom, so long as it does not affect the freedoms or property of others.

*alternate title: Eighteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses

She's Only Seventeen

A book you've read that changed your views on something.

Here's the problem. I love to read. I read for entertainment's sake, though. Lately, I have been thinking back over books I have read, and I realized that I haven't really retained much of anything. When I read, it's usually interesting in that moment. When the moment is gone, usually so is what I just read. I mean, I can generally tell you the basic plotline of any novel or the overlying theme of any nonfiction work, but very rarely do I remember specifics. The good thing is that it allows me to go back and read books a second and third time. The bad thing is that what I read usually doesn't really stay with me for long enough to have a lasting effect on me.

It makes no difference...fiction, non fiction, essays, articles, it doesn't matter.

I don't know why this is the case, but it seems that since I've been an adult*, I've just never been able to hold on to most of the information I have taken in via the written word.

I suppose I kind of have an answer to this question, though. I did read The Yankee Years, by Joe Torre and Tom Verducci a year or so ago. As a result, I still hate the New York Yankees, just not with the same fervor as I used to. Why, I couldn't tell you...I don't specifically remember much about the book. I just remember appreciating it. That's a change, right?

*meaning, since I haven't viewed the act of reading as something I am made to do, rather than something I enjoy doing

Sweet Sixteen

Someone or something you definitely could live without.

Early in our marriage, Kimberly and I experienced a lot of "drama" within our group of friends. This guy hated that guy... This girl said something about somebody... That guy was a manipulator... This other guy said some things... There was always something going on, and it was never fun. I often felt like a mediator between people, and honestly, very little of the shenanigans actually had anything to do with myself or Kimberly. It took a couple or three years to sort it all out, but finally, six years into our marriage, we are relatively drama free.

Enter the Real Housewives.

There are many fundamental problems I have about this series of shows, the first of which is the aforementioned "drama". Why, after we worked so hard to eliminate all the petty crap out of our social lives, is this show allowed in our household? If you haven't seen this show ("this show" used as a blanket remark...there are multiple incarnations of the show. There are "real housewives" of New York, New Jersey, Atlanta, Beverly Hills, and some others that don't come to mind right now), let me give you an in-depth analysis, so we're all on the same page:

A bunch of snooty bitches that think they're better than everybody else, also think they're better than each other. As a result, they look at a camera and complain.

The above "drama" statement is only a small part of what I hate about this show. The bigger problem is that of our dumbing-down.

Look, i'm all for mindless television. I have a show or two that fall into that category. Eastbound and Down is one of them. It's a great show, but it takes absolutely no intelligence to watch and be amused by it. Another show that falls into this category is It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (although I believe the writing is better and actually does take some level of intellect). Point is, of those two shows, one hour of my life every week is consumed. Real Housewives of... is on for hours each day. And people watch it.

There's a movie called Idiocracy that came out a few years ago. In this movie, the main character (played by Luke Wilson) freezes himself and wakes up 500 years later to find that Americans have become complete idiots. Everyone, from doctors to lawyers, even to the President of The United States, has a very limited vocabulary, eats nothing but this junk-food-type buttery-substance, drinks energy drinks, and watches the number one show in the country: Ow, My Balls, a show featuring nothing but men getting hit in the crotch with various things. There was no plantlife left because people had forgotten that plants need water (they irrigated with the same energy drink they drank) Trash was piled up as high as buildings because no one had figured a way to eliminate (or even conserve) wastes. And nobody cared...Ow, My Balls was on. Luke Wilson's character was proclaimed a genius, despite his having average to below average intelligence in the time from which he came.

I know it's a stretch, but I worry that this is the direction we're headed. So much of television these days is completely mindless, even to the point of not even being written...they just turn on the cameras and watch these annoying people with tiny world-views spend money lavishly and complain about their "friends". A bunch of snooty bitches griping about each other does not constitute good tv. Yet for some reason, people are sucked in. And it bothers me.

Fifteen

Something or someone you couldn't live wihout, because you've tried living without it.

As much as I hate to say it...the answer is: playing in a band. With the exception of a couple of months in 1999, and a couple of months in 2005, I have constantly been in some band or another since I was about 17. Granted, I could probably live without it, but I get antsy. If I go a couple of weeks without a band practice*, I get annoyed. It's just something I have to do. I'm not particularly creative, nor to I have any kind of motivation to go out and try to make a career out of music. I just like getting to pick up my bass once a week and pound out some songs for an hour, for no other reason than it's fun.

Sure it'd be nice to play a show every now and then. I think I've just come to peace with the conclusion that it'll never happen, though. I've let myself get bothered by it in the past, but no more. I'm just going to be satisfied with my hobby. If someone (in particular) decides to book us a show, I'll be thrilled. I'm just not going to expect it.

*I use the word "practice" loosely. That word infers that there's something coming up that one would need to prepare for. I suppose I could call it "jam", but that's stupid. Maybe we should call it our weekly band play...or something, I don't know.

Lucky Number Thirteen

A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ... days (write a letter)

I've been touched by a band whose lyrics speak to my very soul. They inspire me. The have shown me the value of finding Something To Believe In. When life gets hard, sometimes I need to just let go and Ride the Wind, or sometimes just Cry Tough. You guys are Fallen Angels, who just want Nothin' But a Good Time. So even though Every Rose Has Its Thorn, Poison, I Won't Forget You. Baby.

Eleven Alive!

Something people seem to compliment you the most on.

Easy. Calf muscles. I have witnessed muscular, body-builder-type people in the gym checking out their own calf muscles in the mirror, then looking jealously at mine. Once a customer said (as I was walking away from him), "DANG! Where'd you buy those calf muscles?"

What can I say...I was always a big guy*. I needed the muscles to hold me up and get me around.

*Surprisingly, people can confuse being overweight with being "built", or above average in the strength department. When I was at my heaviest, I was at a show and some guy started hitting on Kimberly. When I politely informed the man that she was my wife, he backed up, threw his hands up, and apologized, saying there was no way he wanted to get on my bad side. Also, my brother-in-law (who was at one point a larger man like myself, but who has also dropped a noticeable amount of weight) and I were setting up for a day at the beach when someone approached us asking us about our workout regimen and how much we bench.

Just the Ten of Us

Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn't know.


Okay, some of you may not like this, but I can only think of one person: Conan O'Brien.
(note, I realize that today's and yesterday's prompts were likely meant to be answered with more personal relationships, but to be honest, I pretty much have all my friends where I want them)

Liking Conan O'Brien has seemed like the cool thing to do over the past number of years. I just never got into him. I never got the appeal. I mean, he's funny, sure. That's his job, though. David Letterman and Jay Leno are both funny, too...just in different ways. To be honest, there isn't really any late night tv host that I think is downright, can't-miss hilarious (Stewart and Colbert included). I can think of about ten other things I'd like to watch over any of those shows.

Conan's humor* has always seemed immature and easy-to-write. I could be wrong. Admittedly, I haven't seen a whole lot of his show. What I have seen, though, just really didn't do it for me. Of course, most of America (or at least the hip, trendy portion) will disagree with me. I will agree that he got jobbed by NBC. I don't think the man should be yanked off the airwaves. There are people that like him, and if he wants to give them what they want, I say let it happen. I'm just not one of those people.

I'm just a little tired of hearing how hilarious he is, despite already having formed my contrary opinion of the guy. Again, not that I think he's not funny. I just don't think he's the savior of modern comedy that everyone else seems to think he is.

*I am referring to his talk show. I did think he was good as an award-show host. I also follow him on Twitter. About 60% of his tweets are funny in my opinion.

Love Potion Number Nine

Someone you didn't want to let go, but just drifted...

I knew this guy...well, I didn't know him. I knew of him. Regardless, I liked him. I respected him. I wanted to be like him. I entertained the thought (this was long before I was actually going to have a kid) of eventually naming my kid after him, based on my admiration for what he did and how he did it. He just seemed like a really cool dude (actually, he still does). He is Lenny Kravitz.

I (like most of you, I'm sure) was first introduced to Kravitz in the early- to mid-90's with "Are You Gonna Go My Way". It was a pretty good song. He looked amazingly cool playing his Flying-V guitar in the circular room with people dancing all around and all the way up the balconies while he shook his dreadlocks about1.

Over the next few years, of course, he released more singles. Some were smooth, slow jams. Some still had the upbeat rock and roll element. I was also introduced to music that he made before the aforementioned break-out hit. It was all good, too. Somewhere along the way, it came to my attention that while Kravitz has a band he tours with, he records all (or at least most) of the instruments on the albums himself. The guitars, bass, drums, pianos, lead and backup vocals....all him.

I admired the crap out of that. It made me appreciate Kravitz more than the casual fan, I think. That was always something I have always wanted to do. I could easily handle the instrument-playing part of it. I just wasn't good at the song-writing aspect.

As the years rolled by, I bought a few of his albums here and there, and over time I slowly started to lose the appreciation. Everything I heard was slightly less impressive than the previous effort. The last album I bought was Baptism. There was not one song on that album that tickled my fancy. I think that last album was what sealed the deal. It was the final nail in the coffin. We had drifted apart, Lenny and me, and at that point that I realized it was over between the two of us. As a result, I still feel slightly disappointed - even when I hear one of his songs that I like - just because I know it will never be the same.

I wish him the best. He still seems over-the-top cool as a person. As a songwriter and a musician, though, we're just in different places2. Maybe we can still be friends.

1 The red suede vest with tails that flowed all the way to his feet, along with the platform high-heeled boots, I could have done without. I do, however, understand that while those things sound silly (and looked silly), it did fit the image that the video portrayed - a band whose coolness is stuck between "hippie" and "rock star". It didn't fit the (flannel shirt, ripped jeans, messy hair, "I-care-so-much-about-making-it-look-like-I-don't-care-what-I-look-like) style of the era, but still it seemed completely natural at the time. That was one thing Lenny Kravitz was (and still is) always good at doing...dressing to look cool, despite not dressing like anyone else.

2 His place being rich and famous and my place being in a sign shop.

Eight Is Enough

Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like [crap]

Um, I don't know if I really have an answer for this one. There really wasn't anyone who habitually treated me poorly. Sure, there have been some crappy things done to me over my life, but they were really isolated incidents.

Okay, I have one. I have told this story a number of times, so if you've already heard it, my apologies. I was in high school (in Tennessee). I had a crush on this girl named Nadalie (which is almost an anagram for Daniel, thus leading me to believe fate may be on my side). It was a pretty big crush. The problem though, was that this wasn't a girl I admired from afar. We actually became somewhat close friends...at least in the school setting. We never hung out any outside of school, but we had a number of classes together and were very friendly with each other.

One day, after school, I brought her into the art classroom to show her something I had made earlier in the day. On our way out of the room, she left first, then one of the students in the room said "Hey, Daniel...is that your girlfriend?". Playing it cool, I flippantly responded "I wish!". I didn't really mean much by it. I mean, I did wish that, but I would have never acted on it.


Well, either she heard me say it, or word got around to her that I had said it*. A few weeks later, close to the end of the school year. I walked into a classroom halfway through a story she was telling. In this story, a crazy ex-boyfriend had showed up at the school because he heard she was dating someone new. He wanted to know who this person was, and that this person would have hell to pay. He was not afraid of getting in trouble - or even arrested - for what he did, because his dad was a cop and could get him out of any trouble he may find himself in. Did I mention he was crazy?


Well, like all the other people crowded around the table, I listened to Nadalie's sad story. I listened to her talk about how she sometimes fears for not only her safety, but the safety of the people she hangs out with. Nothing changed in our relationship much after that through the end of the school year. She signed my yearbook with the classic "K.I.T." with her phone number.


I fretted over that number many times over the course of that summer. Should I call her? What would I say? We had never hung out before, so it would be weird to ask her if she wanted to, and I wasn't really in a place (of confidence) to actually ask her out on a date. One day, I was at a friend's house and we were discussing all the potential possibilities of calling (or choosing not to cal) her. For some reason, my friend was obviously on the side of encouraging me not to call her. I really couldn't figure out why. Finally, he relented. "Daniel, do you remember hearing Nadalie tell a story about a crazy, jealous ex-boyfriend?" "Yeah", I replied. "Well, she made that story up, because she heard you liked her, and she wanted to scare you away".

Despite going to that school for another full year before moving to Georgia, I never talked to Nadalie again. Part of me was embarrassed, but the other part of me was kind of pissed off. I had asked girls out before. Some had said yes, and others had said no. It was no big deal. Granted, had she said no, it likely would have ended our friendship anyway (as was the case with other girls that had turned me down in the past...it would have just been weird to continue being friends with them...at least when I was 15). It's a funny story to tell now, but at the time, I just thought it was a really cruel thing to do. Actually, I still think it was a cruel thing to do, but I got over it.


*She may have heard that I said that, OR it could have been that I think she saw one of my doodles that had her initials in the middle of a heart. I understand that this is likely the biggest part of the story, yet I chose to leave it out of the actual telling of the story. I could understand her being a little weirded out at the sight of her initials in a heart on a friend's piece of scrap notebook paper, but seriously, I was harmless. I was a quiet, shy 15-year-old who was still scared to death of girls, despite having mustered up the courage to ask a few of them out at that point. The reason I left it out of the story is simple...it never occurred to me that the doodle could have been what threw her off until just recently. For some reason, I never put those clues together at the time. What could I say, I overlooked the basic facts because I was smitten.

Seven

Someone who has made your life worth living for.

Okay, is this someone who has made my life worth living for...as in, I would be living my life for that person? Or is this just a poorly worded question that means someone that has made my life worth living? Some of the grammatical errors and questionable language in this list of prompts leads me to believe that it is the latter of the above listed options.

I'll go with that. Someone who has made my life worth living.

Well, to be blunt, my first answer is nobody. I love my wife and kid more than anything. They make me immensely happy. I cannot imagine my life without them. I cannot, however, say that my life would not be worth living without them. Let me explain:

There are two scenarios involved in this question. The first scenario involves having them and losing them. The second involves never having had them in the first place (as in Kimberly and I never met, or we broke up along the way, therefore Cohen doesn't exist).

The first scenario is devastating. Having known and loved my wife and son, if I lost them, it would take some serious searching to find a reason to continue. I know that sounds a little extreme, but it's true. I would hole up in my house (which I would eventually lose, because I would not be able to pay for it from not going to work), and it would take a hell of a lot to get me out and living again.

So, in scenario #1, my wife and kid definitely do make my life worth living.

In scenario #2, I never met Kimberly, or we broke up early in our relationship, therefore Cohen does not exist. Let's say Kimberly dumped me when I was 19 because it didn't appear that I had a real future (which was a real danger back then, if Kimberly's family had their way....oh...that slipped out. Sorry*). For the sake of argument, let's say she married.... oh.... hypothetically... some guy... let's just call him... ummmmmm. B.J.

Kimberly dumped me, and sure I was distraught (I mean, have you seen her?). However, I've been rejected my fair share of times through my life (believe it or not!), and I survived. Years down the line, this would have been another relationship that had potential, but just didn't come to fruition.

Granted, in this scenario, it is impossible to know whether I would have gone out and found someone else (of course, no one would have compared...but I would not know that. I would not have dated Kimberly for even a year in this scenario). I may, however, have ended up 31 years old and single, with no hope for a real relationship. I surely can't afford a house by myself with what I make, so I'd probably be in an apartment with a roommate, still.

So, I guess, looking at it, Scenario #2 makes my life (and I mean the life I have led, as in the path I have chosen, not the literal meaning of the word life) worth living.

Look, all of this is a really big stretch. I can speculate forever on what may or may not have happened if Kimberly and I didn't make it. The reality, though, is that we did. No matter which way I try to look at it, Kimberly (and subsequently Cohen) both have made the life I chose worth it.

So my blunt, first answer was wrong, apparently.

*I say that about Kimberly's family, because at the time it was true. I was 19. I had no real future. I had no plans for college. They weren't crazy about me. I resented that for a while. However, if I look at it from their perspective, I must admit that it definitely made sense. If I had an 18-year-old daughter that was graduating high school and starting college, and she started dating the 19-year-old version of me, I'd be a little wary, too. Of course, it's all good in the hood now...as far as I know.

OKAY FINE! Numero six

I'll do some more. I probably won't do all of them...some of the prompts are stupid or too touchy-feely, but I'll just decide as I go.

Something you hope you never have to do.

The obvious (albeit correct) answer is lose a child (or spouse). This is what my sister said. To that, I totally agree. However, since that has already been adequately discussed, I'll try to go with something else. Still child related, though.

I hope to never have the problems with Cohen that my parents had with me.

As I mentioned in the critically acclaimed Trois, 5th grade was around the time I stopped caring about school and/or grades. It wasn't that it was too hard. It also wasn't that it was too easy. Believe it or not, I was actually a really bright kid. I don't know what my IQ is (or was...I'm not sure if/how it changes over time), but I was in all the "gifted" programs through my early years at school school. A lot of my teachers theorized that I started slacking off because I wasn't being challenged enough. Sadly, that was not the case. It would have made no difference how much I was challenged. I was smart, but I was just lazy.

That's really all there is to it. It may have been that the fact that I was smart contributed to the problem. I knew I was smart. As a result, I thought I could get by on that alone. I aced most of my tests throughout school. I did relatively well on the SAT. I just didn't feel the need to do any homework. I figured that if I could just prove to my teachers that I knew the stuff (via good test scores), then that should be enough*. Unfortunately, that isn't how it works in school. In addition to knowing the material, one also has to actually do the work assigned. This is a concept I never really got a good hold on.

Kimberly was the opposite of me. Well, I take that back. She was gifted as well. Very smart. She was the opposite in the sense that in addition to doing well on the tests, she actually did the work as well. Kimberly studied. She did homework. More than just that, she did her homework without being prompted or forced by her parents to do the homework. She didn't have the same problem as me of coming up with a new lie every day for her parents (e.g: My teacher didn't assign homework today, My teacher gave us time in class to do the work, There was a bomb threat, so we missed 2 hours of class today). She just did the work. It paid off, too. She makes a considerable amount more than I do.

I know my parents would love nothing more than to see me have to deal with Cohen, should he follow the same path that I did. Of course, I know that my parents don't want Cohen to make bad grades in school, thus making it harder for him to find gainful employment when he's an adult. It's just so I can "get what's coming to me". I wouldn't blame my parents one bit if they found delight in my frustration at Cohen's not falling far from the proverbial tree. For everyone else's sake, though, I hope he inherits his mother's work ethic...at least as far as school/homework is concerned. No one should have to go through what my parents went through...not even me!

*I will admit, now that I am 31 years old, that I still believe that statement to be true. I understand that this does not translate to the real world, where "doing" is more important than simply "knowing". However, in grade school, the objective is teaching and learning...not "doing". There's plenty of time to learn how to "do" after all the learning has taken place. I don't know, it makes sense to me.

Okay, so maybe it was more like "5 days of truth"

Sorry about that, everybody. Those were all incredibly terrible and even more boring than what I usually put on here.

So instead, I'll just get back to putting either 1) what I think is interesting, or 2) nothing at all, up on this bloggy blogg.

Johnny Five Is Alive

Something you hope to do in your life

Something I never did and still hold out a little hope of doing is a short tour with a band. I've been out of town with a couple of my old bands. A couple of them were overnight, but none were more than that. I just want the experience. I'm sure it's probably a lot more boring than I picture it in my mind, but I guess I'll never know until I do it.

There is a (miniscule) chance of this actually happening next year. One of the bands on my friend's label is coming to the states to do a tour (the band is from Israel), and they asked if we'd come out and do a few of the shows with them. Their tour is only 2-3 weeks, and our part would only be maybe 2-3 nights, but nothing is even close to solidified. I'm all for it. Goose says he's all for it. Mike is all for it. That's a 3 out of 3 vote, but I'm giving this about a 2.3 percent chance of actually happening.

That's just how it works with this band...not that I mind. We talk about plans. We talk about feasability. We save vacations days...just in case. Then nothing happens. It doesn't really bother me all that much. I'm just in it for the fun of continuing my bass playing, be it in a club or in my friend's basement. It would be nice to actually see some fruit of this labor, though.

Four

Something you have to forgive someone for


I had this friend. This is the only person I have ever actively ended a friendship with. He said a number of things, a lot of which I cannot and will not forgive him for. There was one thing, though, that despite how he came across, I know he had good intentions.


The year Kimberly and I were trying to get pregnant was very trying on our nerves. There were a lot of highs and lows, but it seemed that the lows were much more prominent. Trying not to get too technical, there were two procedures...IUI and In Vitro. We went through three unsuccessful IUI's over the course of 3 or 4 months before finally succeeding with the In Vitro procedure.

The night before we found out the negative results of our third and final IUI, we had friends over for a get-together at our house. This guy was among those friends. The guys has always been known for being very opinionated somewhat obnoxious. Half the people I knew liked him and the other half, not so much. I always liked him...he had a lot of interesting opinions, and I was always down for a good debate, be it political, musical, etc.

This guy had split up with his wife about three months prior. Half the time he was good times and fun to hang around (granted, this was usually over the course of a 12-pack of Budweiser), and the other half he became very serious and lectured about "true friends being there for each other" and how much more he would have helped a friend going through a hard time if roles were reversed. At that time, Kimberly and I differed on our opinions about the guy. I could see her side, but that didn't so much affect my own opinion of him. I still liked the guy.

Anyway, at the end of that night, everyone else had left except for the guy. He, Kimberly, and I all sat out on the deck. We hadn't told him much about our infertility situation...he had his own things he was going through with his wife and what not. This night, however, our situation came up. We talked about what we were going through, how it hadn't worked up until this point. We talked about our frustrations and disappointments. His response was "Well, you guys need to know that if it doesn't work out..." we stopped him right there. "There is no 'if'", we said. It will work out. He said, "oh, I know...but I'm just saying if it doesn...". Again we said "Stop! Don't say that. There is no 'if'. We are being positive. It WILL work."

The night didn't end well. Kimberly had just about enough of the "if-nots". She got in his face and gave him what's for. Twice, actually. He just would not get it through his head that "no" was not an option.

I knew what he was trying to say. He was trying to tell us that regardless of what happened, we had each other, and we should cherish it. Knowing what he had gone through (and was still going through), his thought made sense. At the time, though, we were in a completely different place than he was. We didn't understand what he was going through, but he also didn't understand what we were going through.

For that, I should forgive him (if he wants forgiveness...which I doubt). There were a number of other things he said about me, my wife, my brother, his wife, and other friends in the months to follow. Those things were just mean, and if he has no remorse for them, then I sure as hell don't have any remorse for my ending the friendship.

But, for that one night. It wasn't about something he deliberately did to us. That night, it was about his trying to get a point across without fully grasping our mindset and that we didn't want to hear his point.

Trois

Something you have to forgive yourself for

A problem I've had my whole life is doing things in excess. That's why I got as overweight as I did. Conversely, I think that's why I lost a lot of that weight as fast as I did. When I start playing "Angry Birds" on my phone, I get so wrapped up in it that unless I consciously make myself stop, I would play for hours. I suppose you'd call it an "addictive personality". I guess it's a good thing I don't really like to drink, and I've never done drugs. If that were the case, I could put myself in a world of trouble.

WARNING, what comes next is ridiculously corny, and I feel stupid even talking about it, but it's something I have never really forgotten about

Specifically, one thing that comes to mind is my behavior through the 5th and 6th grade. I became friends with two brothers whose names were Ricardos and Decarlos (no joke). One day, we decided to skip a class together. We roamed the halls and found what we thought was the most magical place in the entire school. It appeared to be a room full of confiscated toys. We played in there for a while. We played destructively. There were glass things in the room. We broke them. There were G.I. Joe toys. We took them. After we felt a sufficient amount of time had passed, we walked back up to our rooms and continued our day like nothing had ever happened.

The next day, we did it again during a different class (you know, so our teachers wouldn't be suspicious at our missing two days in a row...'cause we were brilliant). This led to skipping classes more often. Then, because of that excessive behavior I mentioned earlier, I took it a step further. We had been stealing toys out of that room for a while. I then took it upon myself to start my own little crime spree. I started stealing pencils and other random, useless stuff out of teachers' rooms. Once I snuck into the PE teacher's office and stole an entire box of candy bars. This went on from the second half of my 5th grade year through about the first half of 6th grade. I would skip school assemblies and rummage through my classmates' stuff, stealing a coke here and a Trapper Keeper folder there. Once I stole a Salt N Pepa tape, just because it was there, and I could.

For some reason, I never officially got caught. I'll never understand what actually happened, but it was brought to my attention years later that my parents knew about it. Or, at least, they knew about the skipping of classes. I'm sure a teacher called and told them about it. I was never confronted about it though, and for a number of years - I guess always, actually - I was just off the hook for it. My parents had other problems to deal with me about, I guess. Around that time was when I stopped caring about school work or grades (a bad habit that lasted right up until I graduated). I'll never know why, but I never got busted for it.

On top of that, I was mean. I had my friends (we were all losers), and we were rude to the popular kids. There was no real reason...they weren't mean to us. They weren't stuck-up, snobby popular kids. Actually, quite the opposite was true. They were nice. For some reason, though, I was a jerk to most of them.

In general, I was just an all-around gigantic a-hole. I had no justification why this was the case, but I was. It wasn't until high school that I socially balanced myself out. I think that may be a reason why I would classify myself a nice guy now. Maybe it's because I have been a not-so-nice guy before, and I know how stupid those guys are.

Still, to this day, I occasionally think about the way I was back then, and even though it had no lasting negative impact myself (or probably anyone else I came in contact with), I still regret it.

Day number two

Something you love about yourself.

I feel it's only fair - since I listed two things I hate about myself - that I also list two things I love about myself. This should be easy, as I am awesome.

First, I am one of the most laid back, easy-going guys you'll probably ever meet. If there are punches, I roll with them. If there is a flow, I go with it. I seldom complain (in a non-joking manner) about anything. I think that makes me a valuable employee, husband, sibling, and friend. I always find something positive in the midst of negativity, and I can laugh at just about anything. I will try as hard as I can to go out of my way and help anyone who needs it, be it a friend or a stranger. It's all about being nice. I try to make being nice my "thing". If there is a way to make something easier for people around you, there's no good reason not to do so.

Secondly, I (think I) am a good father (so far). Granted, I haven't had to sit and have any life-changing, character-forging talks with my son yet, as he isn't even two years old. I have very little experience thus far in the handing out of discipline. I am involved, though, and that's about all I can do at this point. A lot of generations before me designated that the father's main role in a child's life (outside of financially providing for the child) didn't really get into full swing until the child was older and needed discipline. That's just not the way it is in 2010. I don't mind changing diapers. I don't mind putting up with Cohen's insistance on crawling all over me when I have a plate of food in my lap and I'm trying to eat dinner. I love to play with Cohen. I don't mind embarrassing myself for his pleasure. His laugh makes me forget everything wrong with the world, and when I hear it, I will do everything in my power to hear it again.

Hey, two days in a row, and I haven't missed one yet. I'm on a roll!

Numero Uno

I noticed my sister started a daily blog series called "30 Days of Truth", which features a different writing prompt every day. I also noticed that I don't be typing much up in here lately, and it's largely because I haven't had much to say. I figure if nothing else, this will jumpstart my thought-relaying, and my blog won't lay dormant for months at a time.

I realize that this sounds like an incredibly girly and silly thing for a 31-year-old man to be doing. Eh...that's fine, though. I can live with it if you can. Today will be number one, and while I'll probably miss a day here or there, I'll do my best to complete all thirty of them in a somewhat timely fashion.

#1 - Something you hate about yourself

Okay...day one, and I'm already going to cheat. The prompt asks for one thing, and I'm listing two.

First, I hate that I can't fully grasp this whole "responsible adult" thing. It's not that I do things that immature people do (stay out all hours of the night, drink obsessively, live with my parents). It's that I don't do the things mature people do. First off, there is a list as long as my arm of things that need to be done around the house. I need to fix our driveway. I need to fix our sliding glass door. I need to trim our bushes. I need to fix the ceiling (that I fell through almost three years ago). What do I do every night when I get home? Help give Cohen his dinner, eat dinner myself, play with Cohen for a little while, then Kimberly and I put him to bed. By this point, it's almost 9:00, and I ain't about to get out the tools and start working on stuff.
But Daniel, you can do this stuff on the weekends, right? Yeah, you'd think...and you'd be right. Problem is, that's where the whole immaturity thing comes in. I'm more interested in watching (insert sporting event here) and enjoying some relax time. That's the part I haven't fully wrapped my head around. Most adults use that time to do housework. Somehow, I always find something else to do.

Secondly, I hate that I can't get my health fully where I want it to be. I have made huge strides in that department over the past 6 months. I have lost 50 pounds. I now have what I would describe as a "healthy lifestyle". You know what I haven't done? Eaten better. Stopped smoking. I complain that my weight, no matter how hard I work, seldom drops into the 230's, and when it does, it's only for a short time before I'm back up between 241 and 243. I complain, but I know good and well that if I ate better...if I didn't have those cookies after dinner...if I just used the one piece of cheese on my sandwich rather than the two (or *gasp* no cheese!)...if I made all these small changes, they would add up and I'd probably see results.
I have tried countless times to quit smoking. I know it's terrible. I know what it can do to me. I know it stinks (literally), and should Cohen ever find out it could (probably would) result in him doing it too when he's older. All of these reasons, however, have not stopped me from doing it. I have no excuse. I have no justification. I just haven't quit yet, and I need to.

I hate those things, and now I feel terrible about myself. I can't wait for tomorrow when I will be told to list what I love about myself.

Spinning my wheels...

As I'm sure you know, if you've been reading this blog up to now, I've been on a big health and fitness kick for the past 4 months or so. It has yielded some pretty awesome results thus far.
I started at around 290 pounds. Every month, I've lost about 10-12 pounds. This started with a tremendous amount of bike riding. At one point, I got down to 238. It was kind of a fluke though. I'm sure it depended on the time of day, when I had last eaten, when I had last worked out. All of those factors aligned themselves, leaving me with one awesome weigh-in. Since then, I have been hanging in the 242-245 range.

I thought that my body had maybe hit a wall. It had gotten used to the riding, and it was time to change it up a bit. I joined a gym a week and a half ago, so I could give my body some variety in the way of exercise. I have been a member of this gym for 9 days, and I have gone and worked out 7 of them.

Admittedly, I don't really know how to work out. I don't know the ins and outs of it. What to do, when to do it, etc. I've just kind of been winging it. I started out on 3 different cardio machines, just doing ten minutes of each. That changed to 2 machines, at 15 minutes each, and now most recently, I've been doing about 20 minutes on two machines each. That part is pretty self explanitory. I watch my heart rate, I can see the calories burned, and I can feel whether or not I'm getting a good workout. It's the weights I don't really know all that much about.

Since my 2 month stint on the 8th grade football team in White House, TN, I have virtually no weight-lifting experience (to clarify...these aren't free weights I'm using, but weight machines). I try to use common sense. I work out my upper body one day, lower body the next, abdominal muscles every day.

I have felt like I have made good strides. I leave the gym every day feeling like I get a good workout. However, the scale disagrees with me. Despite trying to "shock" my body, and kickstart more weight loss (I still feel like I have a good 40-45 pounds to go), I have done nothing but maintain the weight loss up to this point. I know it's only been a week and a half, but I figure I'd see at least a little progress...a pound or two...or three. But so far, nothing.

It's kind of frustrating, but it hasn't stopped me from trying. The only downside to all this is that I have now almost quit riding my bike altogether, since all of my free time has been switched to the gym. But, I feel like if I go back to riding, then I'm neglecting the gym, which I'm actually paying for (and getting a wider assortment of exercises). I'm sure I'll find a good routine eventually, but for now, I just feel like I'm spinning my wheels...working hard and going nowhere.

Granddaddy

My Granddaddy passed away this past Saturday morning (June 26, 2010). It wasn't tragic, nor was it a surprise. We all knew it was coming soon. My dad and uncle had already gone up to Tennessee to be with him and my Grandmother. Brent, Cyndi, Shaunna, Chris, Martha, and I all headed up there at various times on Sunday for the viewing/visitation, and the funeral service and burial were Monday.

Since Kimberly and Cohen couldn't make it (due to a nasty wasp sting on Cohen's eye...a story I've told 100 times since last week), I had a lot of time by myself on the way up to Nashville to think about Granddaddy and Grandmother. I flipped through the files of my memory and relived stories from my childhood. There was the time Brent, Shaunna, and I stayed at their house for a week while Mom and Dad were out of town, and Shaunna broke a handle on Granddaddy's treadmill. Granddaddy, rather than get mad about it (which we fully expected), used it to teach us a lesson in honesty and admitting your mistakes that I will always remember. There was the time (actually 2 times) we got lost in the expansive (well, they're expansive when you're 9 years old) woods behind their house. We were hysterical, screaming for help until finally we emerged from the woods into a field just around the corner from their yard.

There are a ton of stories I remember from being at Granddaddy and Grandmother's house. However, there is one that will forever stick out in my mind.

I was a very young adult...like 19...maybe even 18. We had gone to Tennessee at Christmas, as we do every year. For a while it had been hard to get everybody together at the same time. It just happened by chance, though, that everyone from Granddaddy and Grandmother down (Roy, Beverly, Michelle, Thomas, Carla, My Mom and Dad, Brent, Shaunna, and I) were all there at the same time. This had been very rare in previous years, as we grandchildren had started to grow older, get jobs, etc.

As we stood around the table before our Christmas feast (which, by the way, both of my grandmothers do an amazing job preparing), Granddaddy was about to pray over the meal before we chowed down. Before he prayed, he just said a few words about how glad he is that the entire family was there. He told us how thankful he is for all of us, and how special it is that we were all together. As he spoke, I saw something I had never seen before and I would never see again. Granddaddy got choked up. Tears filled his eyes as he gave his mini-speech.

Granddaddy was a stern man. He was very opinionated. I wouldn't call him a negative man, but there were plenty of things he didn't like, and he wouldn't shy away from telling you about them. On that day, though, I saw what was really important to him. Family.

While it's nice to branch out, do your own thing, make something of yourself, etc., we must not forget who we are and where we come from. My Mom and Dad, Brother, Sister, and I all live within about 30 minutes of each other, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I love my family (all sides of it...my mom's side, my dad's side, Kimberly's mom's and dad's sides). I am very grateful to be surrounded by the people I love, and I can only hope that it doesn't change as we all get older and have our own kids.

Enjoy your families and keep them close. If you didn't grow up in a family where a lot of love was present, I would encourage you to make that tradition your goal as you start your own family.

...by the grace of God

A friend of mine posted a status update on FaceBook yesterday. He has since deleted the update, and I don't remember it verbatim, but it was something to the effect of...

Just saw a FB post, and it reminded me of how glad I am I left the South. People are racist, live entitled and unintelligent.

Of course, there were a myriad of comments under the status update along the lines of, "Not everybody!", and "I'm not!". My personal favorite was "Now I remember why I left the north. People make sweeping generalizations and are eliteists and unintelligent."

I was really surprised at how upset that guy's comment made me. I like to think that I generally have my reactions in check. It takes a lot to make me mad. On top of that, I have never been one to stand up for my "Southern heritage". For some reason, though, that one comment by my friend really made my blood boil!

I couldn't help but think more and more about the comment and how it made me mad, but really what I pondered was why it made me so mad. Of course, there was the insinuation that I'm a racist who, despite my unintelligence, feels entitled (to exactly what, I don't know). That insinuation, though, couldn't be what made me mad. I've never been one to become angry at accusations that aren't true. It's like a mom joke. They never offended me, because I know that my mama isn't so fat she uses a VCR for a beeper.

No, the more I thought about it, I realized what it is. It's that the South is pretty cool, and this guy just badmouthed it. Yeah, we have the heat and humidity...and the bugs. But do you know what else we have? Courtesy. Close-knit families. Sweet Tea. We open doors for each other at the gas station. When someone drops a twenty on the sidewalk we (well, most of us) pick it up, chase them down, and return it. We know how to work hard, but we know how to take it easy, too. On my initial lap around the park when I ride, nearly everybody gets a preliminary "hello" nod...and everybody returns the nod with a smile. Simply put, we're nice.

Sure, we have our downside. There are indeed racist people in the South. You know what, though? There are racist people in the North, Midwest, East Coast, West Coast, and everywhere between. Ignorance knows no regions. I ran into many more toothless rednecks over a weekend in Pennsylvania than I see in any given month in Georgia.

What also bugged me about what my friend said was the fact that he's from the south. If he was born and raised in New York City and had had this skewed perception of Southern people, I wouldn't care nearly as much. This guy, though, was one of my best friends when I lived in Tennessee. We used to race across Nashville - me in my mid-80's, beat-up Isuzu P'up and him in his mid-80's, beat-up Ford Bronco - to go hang out with my girlfriend and her friend that he was trying date. I look back fondly at that last summer before I moved to Georgia. We had as much fun as two 16-year-olds could probably have over the course of a summer. Now, he is 30. he and his (Georgia native) wife live in NYC, and racist, unintelligent, and entitled are his thoughts when he looks back at where he's from?

It just makes me sad, that's all. I don't generally beam with "Southern pride". I am, however, happy with how and where I was raised. It would take a lot of money to get me to go anywhere else, too (if you're offering, I can be reached at daniel.dorris@gmail.com).

Oh...and we're gonna rise again.

So I struggle with the urge every day to put something up on facebook about biking. How far I have been riding...how awesome it has been...how much weight I'm losing...etc. Sometimes I win the struggle and refrain from posting (because I'm sure most people find it annoying to read someone's status updates, when they're all about exercising). Other times I give in to the awesomeness I feel and post it regardless.

Anyway, a thought occurred to me this morning. Hey, I have a blog. This blog is purely about me. Coincidentally, it is also owned and operated by me. I can just say whatever I want.

So, here goes.

I've gone riding at a lot of parks over the past few weeks. I've been to Tribble Mill, Harbins, Rock Springs, Bay Creek, Mulberry, the other side of Mulberry, Ivy Creek Greenway, and Suwanee Greenway. All of them have their positives and their negatives. I have found, however, that there is one park that stands head and shoulders above the rest...Mulberry Park (actually, I think it's really Little Mulberry Park, but I don't really pay much attention to the signs when I arrive or when I leave).

The main trail at Mulberry is a 2.2-mile loop. With the exception of one stretch of about a quarter mile, it is all wooded (read: shaded...meaning I only sweat 3/4 of a gallon, rather than the full gallon). There are hills, but they aren't ridiculous, "chain-buster" type hills. They are just enough to challenge a rider to push harder, so as to not fall into complacency.

I ride this trail (usually) 4 laps in the morning and 4 laps after work. Each visit to the park results in 8.8 miles. I make sure to park at least 1/10 of a mile away from the entrance to the trail, so I can be honest in saying I rode a full 9 miles. This results in 18 miles a day. That's not too shabby if you ask me, considering that just a month ago, I was thrilled in averaging around 6 or so.

I don't really know that I'll be able to work this daily total up. This, however, is due to time constraints alone. I know it's probably frustrating for Kimberly when I don't get home every night until almost 7:00. I really appreciate her flexability and willingness to see me get into better shape...which brings me to my next point.

As I stated in my last (and so far, only) blog post about biking, I was not sure how much, if any, weight I had lost. Well, I know now. I have lost 23 pounds. As of Tuesday, June 15th, my weight was 267.0 lbs. I have no idea when the last time was that I was in the 260's. I definitely know I haven't been that low in the 6 years Kimberly and I have been married. I still have a long way (like at least 60 more pounds) to go, but so far I feel I'm off to a great start, and it doesn't seem nearly as daunting as it did a month ago.

Right now, I'm looking forward to a couple of things:

1) A week from this Saturday, I plan on going to ride the Silver Comet Trail. This starts in Smyrna, GA and goes all the way into Alabama. Naturally, I doubt I'll be able to ride all the way to Alabama, but I plan on starting around 8:00am, riding four hours, and turning around to ride back. Given my estimated average speed (and that this trail is mostly flat, from what I understand), I am estimating that I can cover somewhere from 60-70 miles just in one day. I'm pretty excited about it.

2) The following Saturday, Kimberly, Cohen, and I are leaving for the beach for a week, as we do every year with her family. Normally, this is a time when I let myself go, even more than normal. This will not be the case this year. I'm taking the bike with me. I plan on getting some BIG miles under me over the course of the week...and I won't have work hanging over me, limiting the amount of time I will have to ride.

Uh oh...

Over the last month or so, Kimberly and I have found that Cohen loves to have about 3-5 minutes of "naked time" before his bath. I drop the diaper, and he shoots off through the house like a rocket. This has gone on without incident for about a month.

Last night, however, after about 3 fast-paced laps around his room, he ran over to his wagon (which houses his assortment of balls). He pulled a little basketball out of the bucket, and as I looked over to him, he looked back at me with a look of fear on his face. He was peeing. He stopped, took two steps back, and just kept on peeing some more. My initial reaction was "Oh no!". Almost immediately after that, I chuckled, told him it was okay, and alerted Kimberly of the situation.

I don't know if it was my initial "Oh no", or the fact that he probably has never actually seen himself pee, but he was horrified by the whole situation. He screamed and cried and carried on, and it took about 5 minutes to calm him down before we could brush his teeth and actually get him into the bath.

It's a nice little story to hold on to for when he is a teenager and has friends over.

Who would've thought?

I've been what you'd call a "big guy" for about 20 years. I was a stick-thin kid until around 5th or 6th grade, then I just added a little weight here and there, never really taking any off. I don't think I ever actually got to the 300 mark that I know of, but when I went to the doctor 4 months after my 30th birthday, I weighed in at around 290.


It only slightly bothered me. I've always been a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. I never really killed myself about my weight. It didn't depress me. As far as I was concerned, I had a lot of other qualities that I liked about myself just fine, so I didn't let the weight get me down. Sure, I didn't necessarily enjoy being the fat guy, but all in all, I have a pretty sweet life, so who am I to complain? Over the past six years, Kimberly would make me go out and walk with her occasionally (I mean occasionally, like 2-3 times a year). It would be torture. I didn't want to do it, and I was miserable the whole time.


About a month ago, something just kind of clicked. I dont' know what it was. It was a Sunday morning, and Kimberly had "dragged me" out to the park under the guise of "We'll walk a little bit, then let Cohen play on the playground". Well, far be it from me to deny Cohen his precious swing time. I reluctantly agreed.


About 3/4 of the way through the 3 mile walk was when I noticed it...Hey, this is kind of killing me....but I kind of don't mind it. I think I could do this more often. I mentioned to Kimberly that I think I could be down for doing this at least once if not twice a week, and she was ecstatic.


Meanwhile, my buddy Nate had taken up biking. Actually, quite a few of my friends had cioncidentally taken up biking all around the same time. I had tried it a few years back, but I didn't really enjoy it all that much, so my bike had been collecting dust (more specifically, pollen and spiders) for about 6 years. I was content to keep walking with Kimberly.


A couple of weeks went by, and I was enjoying (well, not hating) the walking. Our jogging stroller has an iPod dock, so we would listen to a little inspirational music (BuckCherry, Squad Five-O, The Darkness) and do it a couple of times a week. At the end, I'd be drenched in sweat, but I felt good about it nonetheless. I couldn't help but think, though...if I did this on my bike, I could cover a lot more ground and do it faster.


One Saturday afternoon, hockey was cancelled because of rain that never actually came, so I had my chance. I pulled the bike off the wall, washed it off (with a hose from a distance....you know...the spiders), pumped up the tires and threw it in the back of my car. Off to Tribble Mill park I went.


Holy crap it was miserable.


I did the same 3 mile path Kimberly and I walk. It is pretty hilly. Some people don't mind the hills because - you know - every hill you go up, you also get to go down. I'm not one of those people. I finished the trail in about 22 minutes (it takes us about 40-45 to walk), and when I dismounted the bike, I almost fell down because my legs were absolutely killing me. Kimberly and I went the next morning and walked that same trail again, and I told her that I may not be able to keep up because my legs were so sore from the previous day's ride. As it turns out, I was able to keep up. I realized that while I was pretty sore, it didn't seem to bother me as much as I expected it to. I decided to go try it again on the bike the next chance I got.

That chance was the following Saturday afternoon. Once again, I loaded up the bike and headed out to the park. This time I finished in around 15 minutes. My legs still hurt, but it was slightly more bearable this time. I was actually getting a little excited about the prospect of riding more often.

My friend Nate is quite up to speed on all the local parks and trails, and he knows all the best places to ride. He mentioned the Ivy Creek Greenway, which is less than a half mile from where I work. I decided to go ride it Tuesday after work. It was pretty good...being the seasoned rider I was (you know...two 3 mile rides under my belt), I was able to knock it out pretty quick. I went home having ridden about 4 miles feeling pretty satisfied with myself.

Two days later, on Thursday, I went to the same trail after work. I went about 5 and a half miles that day. Other than heading straight from there to band practice, only to get laughed at for being soaked with sweat, it was a pretty good experience. Every time I rode, I covered just a little more ground than the previous time, and I was feeling pretty good about it.

I hadn't planned on riding Friday. Kimberly and I had an end-of-the-year teacher party to attend that night, so timing was going to be a little tight. I started out the door to head home, and I just couldn't do it...I had to do at least something. I went with Nate over to Rock Springs park and put in a quick three miles before heading home.

All in all, I was drastically improving every time I rode. This past Saturday, in a twist of fate, my entire day's schedule opened up at the last minute. Jackpot! I decided to test out my endurance and see how much I could do. I headed out to the Suwanee Creek Greenway. Where I parked was right in the middle of the trail, with about 2.5 miles on either side. I started left. I rode the 2.5 miles to the end and back....okay, that's 5 miles. When I got back, I decided to go right. I went about a mile going that way and came back. This brings my total to 7 miles. As usual, I was pretty sore and pretty tired, but I felt good about it. I thought to myself, I'll head toward home and stop at Rock Springs park. Maybe I'll do 3 miles there to bring it to an even ten for the day.

Rock Springs park has a 1/3 mile track, so it's easy to ride in increments, knowing exactly how far you've gone. I finished the first mile. Then I finished the second mile. Right around the time I was wrapping up the third mile, I thought, I think I can do a little more. So I just kept going around the track. 4 miles. 5 miles. I just kept going. By the time I stopped, I had ridden 7 miles on the track. This brought my total to 14 miles. In one day. This may not mean a lot to you, or to someone who rides regularly, but it's absolutely huge for me. I can't remember the last time I felt so good about something I had accomplished!

Sunday, after doing some around-the-house stuff we needed to knock out, Kimberly and I took Cohen to the park and walked again. It felt great. Despite having ridden 14 miles the previous day, my legs could not only handle the brisk walk but also the occasional bursts of jogging up hills. Can this actually be happening? Am I exercising? Am I making progress?

I had decided not to ride on Sunday. After getting back from the park, we jumped in the pool for a while. My plan was to climb out of the pool and watch the Braves game a little after 1:00. By 1:45, I could stand it...I had to go back to the park and ride some more. Rock Springs it was. After 9 laps around the track (3 miles), I decided to call it a day. I got back in the car and made it almost to the park gate before turning back around. I knew I had more in me than that. I went back to the track and strapped on my skates (the inlines I use for hockey). I had no idea what to expect. Maybe I'd do a lap or two and see how it went. I had finally had my fill after 6 laps. That was 3 miles on a bike and 2 miles on skates.

I couldn't believe how good I was feeling about all this! I went to bed Sunday night excited about my upcoming ride today after work. I planned on going back to Rock Springs (my new favorite place) and log about 7 more miles or so. The thought had crossed my mind that I could maybe do it before work, since I didn't have to take Cohen to Snellville this morning. However, in my old age lately, fully waking up has been harder and harder every day.

When I woke up this morning, I was just as groggy as I usually am. As Kimberly left for work, I decided that I should just go out and try it. Worst-case-scenario, if I didn't like it, I'd just go back after work, as was my original plan anyway. I pulled into the park, still rubbing my eyes and trying to fully wake myself up. Despite my muddled head, I climbed on my bike, put the iPod on GNR's Appetite for Destruction, and started pedaling. By the end of mile 1, my eyes were wide, my vision was clear, and I was fully awake. My legs hurt, but that hadn't stopped me yet, so I wasn't going to let it get to me today, either.

45 minutes later I was at the shop, changing out of my sweat-drenched clothes and cleaning up for work, having ridden 7 miles.

Just in case you haven't caught the theme here...I feel great! The fact that I would be exercising in and of itself is almost foreign to me, but the fact that I'm exercising and enjoying it...well, that's just ridiculous! I really think I'm starting to become addicted to riding my bike. Even having done the 7 miles this morning, I can't wait until work is over, so I can to at least seven more before I go home. Maybe I'll do ten, just to top Saturday!

I have no idea how much weight, if any, I have lost. Though I haven't changed my diet drastically, I have started eating more sensible portions. Also, I have cut out about 90 percent of my soda intake and replaced it with water. Instead of grabbing a handful of chips before going to bed, I have been drinking a glass of V8 splash (you know...the juice that has a complete serving of fruits and vegetables in each glass).

Point of it all is that it only took two weeks to get comfortable with a signifantly more active lifestyle.

I'm pretty happy about it.

Today I didn't even have to use my AK...

Ever have one of those days, when everything is just awesome?



Yesterday, when I got to work in the morning, one of our first calls was from Nick Dixon, the clubhouse manager for the Gwinnett Braves. He said he needed us to do some nameplates for him. We've done nameplates for the G-Braves in the past. We did them for the offices of the Manager, General Manager, Marketing people, etc. So I was quite surprised when he came in later with a player's locker nameplate he wanted us to reproduce! I get giddy whenever we do anything having to do with the Gwinnett Braves. Now, I get to make the nameplates that are going on the lockers of the likes of Jordan Schafer, Gregor Blanco, Brandon Jones, etc. You may not know all those guys, but I do, and I'm pretty darn excited about it.



THEN, I saw a facebook update from Kris Oas, mentioning that the McDonalds in Lawrenceville has the super-fancy, futuristic, touch screen Coke fountain machine. This machine has over 100 flavor options, including Sprite in the flavors of grape, raspberry, and peach; and Coke in the flavors of Vanilla, Lime, Grape, Orange, Raspberry. As soon as Oas confirmed which McDonalds it was, I was on my way. I started out with a little Grape Sprite, followed by Orange Coke, followed by Grape Vault, and closed it out with Peach Sprite, and I was on my way. Every flavor was awesome. I'm a "new soft drink flavor" nerd, so it was like Christmas for me.

THEN, after I got back to work, the waiting game started. It was....wait for it....BRAVES OPENING DAY! The game was set to start at 4:00. I would have loved to actually go to the opening game, and for the life of me, I really don't know why I didn't. I did enjoy getting a nice update from Chris on Jason Heyward's debut at-bat/debut home run. As soon as the clock hit 5:30, I was out the door to go home and watch the last half of the game.

When I got home, it was about 5:45. Kimberly and Cohen walked in the door shortly after. Cohen immediately ran into the living room and grabbed the (nerf-style) baseball, and we played catch for about 15 minutes (for real...the kid's got an arm!). He then took the ball and stood in front of the TV, mimicking the pitcher, throwing the ball everytime the pitcher threw the ball. It was quite possibly my proudest moment to date as a father.

As the game was winding down (16-5 was the final score), I hopped in the car and headed over to Mike's house for Last Chucks practice. It was a pretty good practice. Hot as crap, and I was sweating through my shirt by the second song, but that's okay.

Point of it all is...yesterday was an all-around awesome day. No barking from the dog. No smog. The Lakers beat the Supersonics. And, I even saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp.

Went to a GH show, and a SFO show broke out.

This past Saturday morning started out like any other Saturday morning does. Kimberly went to walk with her mom while I fed Cohen his breakfast and we played for a little while. After she got home, I handed the little guy off to her and headed to hockey.

I had no idea that I was about to have quite possibly the best Saturday night of my life.

In between games at hockey, I routinely check my phone. This week was no different. Only this time, I had a text message from Jason (you know...from the Anthem blogs). It stated:

FYI there's gonna be a squad reunion tonight in ATL

WHAT?

(back story)
You may or may not know. I mentioned in a previous blog post that we (members of Anthem) were big fans of Squad Five-O. I may have understated that a bit. Squad Five-O is one of my two absolute, hands-down, favorite bands of all time (the other is Five Iron Frenzy). I first saw Squad when I was seventeen, and over the next 6 years, I saw them about 30-40 more times. No exaggerating. I am really pretty sure I saw them that many times. They broke up about five years ago, and I was pretty sure it was for real over, and I'd never see them again.

Squad Five-O had (at one point) five members. Jeff Fortson sang. His brother John Fortson played bass. Adam Garbinski played guitar. Dave Petersen (formerly of Blaster the Rocketboy) played drums, and Kris Klein played second guitar.

After they broke up, John moved to Orlando and joined a band called Gasoline Heart with Louis Defabrizio. Adam and Dave started their own band. Jeff went back to school.

When Jason and Brent moved to Orlando, they ran into John one night, and they became friends. Jason eventually joined Gasoline heart for a while.

(flash back to present times)
When I called Jason back after his text on Saturday, he said that Gasoline Heart was on their way to play a show in Marietta, and they were picking up Jeff on the way. I later learned that Gasoline Heart was (kind of) breaking up, and this was a last horrah before Louis moved to New York. They had apparently been practicing a few Squad Five-O songs, and were planning on bringing Jeff and playing the SFO songs that night.

Okay, cool, I thought. Even if it's not a full on Squad Five-O lineup, it'll still be nice to see John and Jeff play together...plus I like Gasoline Heart, anyway. This will definitely be a good show.

Kimberly and I dropped Cohen off at my parents' to spend the night, and up to Marietta we went. When we walked into the place (The Local...a bar within another bar), I saw John. Then I saw Jeff. This is really happening!, I thought. Kimberly and I were grabbing a bite to eat within the restaurant part of the place, and we could see through the windows into stage area. I saw Louis. I saw a few other people I recognized. Then I saw...Adam Garbinski? And who's that with him...is that...Dave Petersen?!?!

Holy crap! Squad Five-O is really here!

We ran into a few old friends and caught up with them through the opening act (who, I'm pretty sure, was originally supposed to be the headlining act), and then Gasoline Heart was set to go.

I've seen Gasoline Heart a few times. They're really good. This time was different, though. They were GREAT. When they started playing, I realized that Adam and Dave were actually playing in GH. They weren't in the band in previous times I saw them, but hey, I'm not complaining. They ran through about 7 or 8 songs, then Louis said "Hey Jeff, come on up." He then addressed us and said "We've got a little surprise for you".

Then Squad Five-O played.

We were pressed up against the stage, because there was no way we were going to stand in the back for this one. It was amazing. Squad only played two of their original songs, then they played 3 covers. It was intense, though. I had forgotten why I loved this band so much in the first place! So much energy! So much fun! So much interaction with the crowd! Jeff spent the first song on top of the crowd (there are few times that I feel "crowd surfing" is acceptable, but in my mind, Jeff will ALWAYS be allowed).

I felt like I was 19 again. I acted like I was 19 again. I jumped. I clapped. I screamed. I sang along at the top of my lungs. By the time the show was over, Kimberly and I had both lost our voices.

Since Brent knows John from Orlando, we walked behind the stage when the show was over. We shook hands, exchanged hugs, and took pictures. We were about to leave, and I mentioned to Jeff, "Dude, how old is your daughter now?" He replied "She'll be eleven soon". ELEVEN! I've seen Jeff's daughter once. She was a newborn! We talked a little about the old days. We talked about The Pteradactyl club (where we were first introduced to Squad) and Spudgun (who Squad used to play with all the time).

Then, we were about to leave again. We walked out the back door. Kimberly and Cyndi went back in to go to the bathroom, and John came out and we chatted for a few minutes. When the girls came back, we just stayed out there and talked to John (and Dave showed up and hung out too). We talked about our kids; about how his daughter loves trucks and didn't want him to leave to come play the show today; about how Cohen skipped "mama" and just calls Kimberly "mom". We talked in depth and at length about the plotline and characters of LOST.

Basically, we hung out like we were old friends. And in a way, I guess we were. I never knew them in the past, and they never knew me. I felt like I knew them, though. I have felt like I have known them for the past thirteen years.

I'd like to thank four people in specific for making this possible.

1. Darrel Boyer - He took us to our first Squad Five-O show in December of 1996. Coincidentally, he was at the show this past Saturday night. It was awesome catching up with him.

2. Brent - for meeting John in Orlando. If he didn't know John, I still would have been starstruck that night, and Kimberly and I would have sheepishly walked away after the show, having not talked to my teen idols.

3. Jason - If he wasn't looking out for us, I would have never known that the show was even happening.

4. Kimberly - At first, I was worried she wouldn't be cool with going out late for the show. Fortunately, I neglected to remember that not only does she miss going to shows just as much as I do, she also loves Squad Five-O too. I think she had just as much fun as I did.

Thanks everybody. I'll never forget it.