Category: grindstone

All about breadwinning.

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is it butt-doctor time?


Traffic is on XM as I sit here and write. Half-past 7pm now and I just wrapped up sending some late e-mails for work, trying desperately to get a handle some things which’ve been consuming me of late. This week has been a good one at work, one of those ones where I get to use my brain to dream up what-if type stuff and go figure it out. I like that kind of stuff. I find, interestingly enough, that I get my best thoughts and ideas after I’ve removed myself from work-proper and have a chance to reassess a situation mentally with the benefit of some brain downtime. For instance, I regularly plan out e-mails or courses of action while showering in the morning or brushing my teeth at night. Tonight, a doozy hit me on the drive home from work. What am I even talking about? Let’s get on with it…

This about-to-be-thirty thing is an odd beast. I’ve never been one to spend a lot of time thinking about age, my brithdays generally pass without much fanfare or rumination on my part. This year, though, I’ve been surprised how much pause I’ve taken to consider my three-decade milestone. Not a lamenting or dreadful kind of pause, just a different line of thought than normally accompanies each passing year. I suppose it’s because, although it’s really quite arbitrary, there is some recognized “milestone” a big birthdays like this. For me, it’s less about “woe is me, I’m going to be old” and more about looking back or taking stock. And, since part of “taking stock” is doing those little “how’m I doing” self-evaluations, my mind also turns to those arbitrary life “checkpoints” that everyone keeps track of in their heads. Married? Job? Kids? Check, check check.

This year, however, also seems to come with some degree of self-judging on standards which are newer to me. Things like how healthy I am, and how well I take care of myself. I haven’t really been more than superficially concerned with things of this nature before, as evidenced, I’m sure, by my portly frame and general yen for excess. Turning thirty, which, if I’m lucky, isn’t even a third of my existence, and having Keaton, I’m starting to think about things like my own longevity and its effect on those around me. I’d hate, for instance, to have to leave this sphere for nothing more than too many Double Whoppers and too few jogs round the track. Now, don’t think I’m going all reality-TV on you here or anything, words are one thing – but changing a lifestyle, that takes work y’all. I will, however, seriously consider shaping up when I hit forty – promise.

C’mon board the animal train, c’mon everyone. Learning about animals, is really lots of fun! Colors, sizes, what they say, if they’re fast or slow. Learning about animals, there’s so much to know! Toot! Toot! -Christmas with a baby.

Goodnight.

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rainy weather prelude


Monday and it was back to work for me…

These two-ish weeks between Thanksgiving vacation and Christmas vacation are always a bear. A difficult-to-concentrate time bookended by memories of, and lookings-forward to, days spent away from work. In highschool, I recall our guidance counselor counseling against letting “senioritis” creep in during those last months, weeks, and days prior to gradation. And while my near two-week Christmas vacation is hardly as big a respite from the millstone as graduation seemed to be at the time, it sure possesses some of the same Siren-song draw. I sit at work and think about hanging out with friends and family in the uniquely temperate weather of a December in Florida… it’s an affliction.

Sunny California is currently busy making a mockery of its state motto, tossing up a knobby middle finger of cold and rain. Honestly though, I like the winter weather, and am glad for it.

Note: Somehow, this afternoon when I wrote that initial sentence, I had intended it as a segue into the rest of this paragraph where I talk about the fact that I haven’t yet put away all the Halloween decorations. Now, however, having written the intro sentence a few hours ago and coming back now to finish, I have no idea how a prelude about rainy winter weather was supposed to lead to that topic. So, without attempting some fancy link between the two, I’ll go right into the Halloween topic now.

I still haven’t put away all the Halloween decorations. Chiefly among them, the 100lbs+ coffin is still sitting in the garage, impeding our way in and out of the house and forcing me to ease the truck in ever so delicately to avoid crushing it’s presswood walls by pulling in too far. Seeing that thing there every day, still unstored for next season, and remembering back to how much trouble this year’s decorations were – I’m beginning to dread the annual Halloween setup, ending up in the same kind of love/hate relationship I have with Christmas decorations. If I don’t get that coffin lashed up to the rafters soon, I’m going to end up hating it so much that I won’t want to bother repairing and reusing everything for next year.

Read this article with a bit of cautious interest today, hoping my decision doesn’t make my vision all milky someday down the road…

Goodnight.

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three days off


It’s Monday night of an abbreviated work-week. Sharaun and I are intending to hit the road early Wednesday morning (which I tend to think of as Tuesday night, since it’s the same dark that came at 7pm the previous day), sometime around 3am. The thought being that, while it’s still dark outside, Keaton might get some sleep in her carseat. I’m hoping she can sleep until 6-7am, which would at least kill a third of the long trip for her. I hate the thought of her having to be stuck in a carseat that long – but you gotta do what you gotta do I suppose. Forecast through the mountain pass on the way up is rain, and on the way back is snow. It likely goes without saying, but getting stuck in the snow again, this time with Keaton, would particularly suck. I’m hoping for the best, at least. And, being that we’ll be on vacation Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, I’m not sure how much, if any, I’ll be writing those days. Two days might be I’ll this week’ll get out of me.

Today work seemed interminable. With a good bit of the troops out for the holiday week the place felt like a ghost town. The volume of e-mails and calls and meetings was also down, making for less of the “filler” I rely on each day to get me from task to task. For me, switching focus every so often is essential to doing a thorough job on a single task. Rarely do I ever do my best work in one sitting, my real genius only comes with revision and revisiting. So, it’s good for me to take an hour meeting and break up my flow of work on a presentation – it makes me go back and start from zero, re-read and re-think and, most of the time, make things better. But, today was without those interruptions… and it was boring. When the office is abandoned like this, motivation is hard to come by.

This weekend, I spent Saturday my morning downloading and organizing music. A while back, I scored a membership to a private tracker site known for lossless live music (no, not that other private tracker I’ve mentioned before), and last night I decided to take some time and really browse the repository of FLAC-encoded shows that were available. I ended up downloading some vintage performances by Mike Bloomfield and Delaney & Bonnie (with Duane and Gregg), both of which are outstanding shows that have never seen commercial release. I’ve mentioned before how my musical leanings seem to go in phases, alternating between nouveau indie rock and good ol’ classic rock ‘n’ roll. I guess, lately, I’ve been getting back into the classic mindset. I attribute this to the recent release of a 1970 Neil Young & Crazy Horse show at the Fillmore East – which, by the way, is outstanding.

Goodnight, until whenever…

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when i was bulletproof


Work today was another one of those sprints to five o’clock. Meeting after meeting, rushing to get one thing done before it was too late to do the next one. I don’t mind so much, but I hate the fact that, when I get home, I’m often so beat down that I’d just rather collapse than do something ultimately more enjoyable like feed my daughter dinner. Tonight, though, I powered through it – and went immediately from dropping my keys to spooning pureed chicken and apples into her perfect little mouth as she bopped around and babbled. At the time, I may have wished I was splayed out on the couch instead – but I think I made the right call.

Little by little these past few weeks, I’ve been working on my “best of” list for the music of 2006. I guess I’ll let it fly sometime in December, I’m imagining posting it while in Florida for the holidays. As part of the process, I go back and listen to each album I shortlisted throughout the year, and try to write something about it while it’s on the cans. Today I wrote a little bit for one album that I liked so much, I’m going to put it here – but without listing what album it was for. I justify this because a) I’m running low on material and I liked it, and b) I figure people don’t really read all the “best of” text anyway (who wants to read some dude’s gushing over rock ‘n’ roll, anyway?):

One night back in highschool, I found myself at one of many parties in the woods. Sharaun could never accompany me to these things, so I was flying solo. At some point, an upperclassmen girl I knew fairly well sauntered over and, her face lit furtively by the flickering bonfire, whispered close that she wanted to try some of what I was smoking, but that she was with her “straight” friends and needed to be discreet.

So that’s how this girl and I, our relationship already clearly established to me, her, and apparently others as being flirty enough to raise eyebrows, found ourselves quietly slipping off into the trees to get high together. I’m convinced I could’ve made anything happen under the shelter of those trees that night, but I didn’t. We smoked, laughed, enjoying our teenage moment, and walked out together into the crowd some five minutes later.

I guess our disappearance into, and subsequent reappearance from, darkness got folks talking though – and by Monday morning at school it was said that we’d bedded in the pine needles. I had a time explaining to Sharaun, but everything worked out in the end.

Ahhh yes, those sacred years… nothing like highschool when I was bulletproof.

Oh my, the “new” Beatles record has leaked and I’m 24hrs late to the party… gotta catch up… goodnight.

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invite the terrorists to dinner


Wednesday night (I’ve decided that it’s kinda my “thing” to begin my blogs with a simple statement of when I’m writing. I don’t care if you saw it somewhere else first, it’s still my thing) and I’m over at Anthony’s. At the moment, everyone has left me here to go somewhere else – and I’m all alone in the house save for my sleeping baby and Anthony’s sleeping daughter. Seeing as this is, understandably, not the most exciting of times, I decided to write to pass the time.

Today work was a regular blitzkrieg… an assault on all fronts. One of those days spent mentally juggling task after task, all the while driving to get as much done in the time available. I’m actually proud of my efforts today, I got a lot done – and allowed only a few distractions to sidetrack me. It’s at times like these, these “peaks,” that I feel like I earn my pay. It kinda makes up for that time I lied and said I had a dentist appointment and instead went home to take a nap, or that time I hid out down in the cafeteria reading, or when I purposely don’t answer the phone when the caller ID tells me it’s someone with whom I’m going to have to have a long, drawn-out conversation. Yeah, totally makes up for all that.

Big day today for the left-leaners out there today, the house, the senate, the don’t-let-the-door-hit-you-on-the-Ashcroft. Yes, big day indeed. Methinks, though, with all the fanfare and media coverage, that those dems better get to workin’ like, stat. Someone needs to get a platform, someone needs to do something, make something happen. Because, I’m of the opinion that, If the party of the ass decides to rest on their laurels for two years expecting their “Bush is dumb, Iraq is a mess” message to carry them in ’08 – they ain’t gonna win no elections. So, let’s see what ya got, guys and gals – get out there and raise taxes, take guns, invite the terrorists to dinner, and turn our children into godless homos. Yay!

What’s up with the Colbert Report lately? This Tek Jansen crap is boring and unfunny. Get with it Stephen.

Goodnight y’allz.

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self-centered focus disorder


Monday and I’m wishing I had some more time off, work is not sitting well with me of late. I’m depressed by how much stupidness goes on there, sometimes that happens. I waffle between one strategy where I master the politics and bullshit and just ride the wave, and another strategy where I try to “fix” things and make things better – and sometimes I get torn between the two and feel… ineffective… or something. Also, sometimes I just get discouraged, need a vacation, need time to do nothing.

I get these irrational peaks of emotion, where I just sit at my desk thinking about how much I’d rather be at home with Sharaun and Keaton, or how I wish it was Thanksgiving or Christmas and I was with friends and family. Sometimes, when this happens, I get an almost uncontrollable urge to “run,” to just get up and go. I can’t explain it really, it’s like I just get this sudden influx of what’s important in life and I want to go be with those things instead of at work. Sometimes these peaks align with particularly busy or hectic times at work, which is logical being that those are the times when a body’s mind would naturally turn to things more enjoyable – but other times they happen quite randomly, seemingly unprovoked.

Anyway, this morning at work I had one of those… and I wanted nothing more than to run away from it all. Get in a car with Sharaun and Keaton and head somewhere quiet, turn off the phone, lock the doors – hole up with what really matters.

You’d think one paragraph would be enough to cover that, right? But no, I think I’ll continue. I often get these mental interrupts when executing on a task, and I’d almost always classify them as “selfish.” What I mean by that is, when I’m doing something that’s anything less than exactly what I want to be – I’m frequently interrupted by thoughts of doing that other preferable thing. Typically these thoughts aren’t enough to derail whatever I’m doing, but they can certainly add delay.

Thing is, there are precious few times where I’m actually completely content doing what I’m doing, where my mind isn’t racing thinking about other things I could be doing instead. I wonder sometimes if this kind of thing is normal, or if it isn’t some kind of ADD-thing. I’ve long come to terms with my own selfish nature – and have pretty much stopped feeling ashamed when I want to abandon one thing for a different one that makes me happier or serves me better – I’m just a dick that way. I guess, whatever it is that finds me sidetracked so often, it doesn’t really wreck things for me – I function OK despite, so that’s good.

Maybe I’ll coin a new disorder or something: SCFD (Self-Centered Focus Disorder); symptoms include always wanting to do what you want to do.

Pavement’s newly reissued and expanded Wowee Zowee: Sordid Sentinals Edition leaked the other day, and I’ve been spending a good bit of time examining all the Zowee-era goodies that I’ve never heard before. Some good stuff on there, from what was a landmark album to me – the album that truly got me interested in the indie-rock sound. Several tracks are ones I used to have on various singles, but haven’t heard in a long time – and some are just brand new or live. I’ll be honest though, I never have been a huge fan of live Pavement… but there’s some interesting stuff on here. Particularly intriguing are a couple versions of cuts which are labelled as “recorded in Holland” and are significantly different from their previous incarnations (albeit for some reason centered far to the left of the stereo image).

Before I go, I did manage to get some pictures up for this week’s installment of Keaton-in-pictures. Check ’em out here. Goodnight.

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discovery


Monday night, and I’ve realized I’ve taken to opening entries with a simple statement about what night it is. Not much here tonight (canned stuff), been trying to work on the big three-year anniversary entry (not much progress there either, actually). Yeah, that’s right – sounds familiar, my humble little blog that started because I wanted to emulate others, is turning three years old next month. I’m not really sure what I’ve got planned for the occasion, maybe a statistic-driven entry tooting my own horn, sure a GIMP’d image, and likely nothing more. Sound underwhelming? That’s my style.

Today at work, my thighs burned as I walked up and down the stairs and the palms of my hands felt noticeably rough compared to their normal “computer engineer” suppleness. And I do believe I felt better for it. Each near-cramping step reminded me that I actually did something over the weekend. Breaking a sweat, getting things done – I love it. Compared to my daily job where I literally sit on my ass and type. No, seriously, I type all day long – staring at a monitor. In any given day, I experience so little outside the chest-high walls of my cubicle, my excitement is limited to corporate politics. It may sound like I’m complaining, but I’m actually torn. In some ways, I love that I’m able to do so little physically and make a living. On the other hand, I occasionally become desperate for something more – with wider boundaries and scope, maybe something more impactful or that has more quantifiable end-results. Because, at the end of the day now, would it really make a difference whether or not I answered those 100 e-mails? Probably not. I guess you’re just hearing my frustration with work of late, where the environment hasn’t been the best for a while.

Remember how I told you guys I thought there was a song on the new Decemberists album that had a “Doors sound” to it? I decided tonight to take some MP3 clips to try and make my point. Now, I’ll admit, when I heard the songs next to each other the similarities weren’t that striking – but I still think it’s worth sharing (especially since I spent 10min in Audacity whipping up the clips). So, for comparison, I present the clips

[audio:the_perfect_crime_clip.mp3]
The Perfect Crime 2, by the Decemberists

[audio:riders_on_the_storm_clip.mp3]
Riders On The Storm, by the Doors.

Let me know what you think. By the way, if you couldn’t tell from that badass driving bassline and steady drumming, that Decemberists song is excellent.

Music fanatics, rock and roll historians, and popular culture experts – you may want to shut your ears tight for this personal revelation: Up until this week, I’ve never, ever, sat down and listened to Pet Sounds all the way through. That’s right; never. Oh, I’ve read article on article about the merits and impact and durability of the Beach Boys’ crowning achievement – but I’ve always poo-pooed it all. Why? Simple: I hate(d) the Beach Boys. That’s right folks. All this time, I associated the Beach Boys with the “surf sound” that I so abhor; that Jan and Dean “Dead Man’s Curve” crap that I just cannot stomach. Really, it’s the “early” Beach Boys stuff… the surf-o-rama sound… that I can’t stand. It just took me this long to decouple that slick surfer group from the Beach Boys who did “God Only Knows” and “Vegetables,” y’know, the amazing ones. I guess it’s kinda like the guy who can’t stand the Beatles early records, the tripe like “Honey Don’t” and “I’ll Follow the Sun.”

So, what finally made me take off my blinder and listen to Pet Sounds as an album, rather than a “surf” album? I think my absolute fanatic love of Brain Wilson’s recently finished opus, Smile, had a lot do to with it. Listening to Smile, I was able to hear Wilson’s melodies and hooks as more than just surf music. I was able to hear the brilliant harmonies and layering, was able to hear the pure pop craft in the pieces, the attention to detail. Even though, to the casual listener, it may sound like “Beach Boys,” to me I was hearing something entirely different. In the end, I don’t remember what pushed me over the edge – but I finally gave in and picked up the Hoffman remastered DCC (25k gold) release of the album (in lossless FLAC format). Oh. My. God. This thing is brilliant. Dave, where the fuck have your ears been all these years?! How could you have ignored this gorgeous gem for so long, and purposely at that! Oh, gods of music, I am sorry… I lay this gold CD at your alter in atonement. Please, please find it in your heart to forgive me.

Before I go, I wanted to link over to this article at the new Porkbusters blog (blogging about government waste). Seems that senators Tom Coburn and Barak Obama have propose a piece of legalisation that would create a public-accessible website containing a searchable database of almost all federal funding recipients. This would be an awesome resource for John Q. Public, and, in my opinion, would go a long way in perhaps forcing some accountability on for whom and what funding is secured. Or, it’ll just make the money-getters become more creative in securing funds in less traceable ways. Anyway, some senator has placed a “secret hold” on the legislation, and Porkbusters is urging folks to call their senator asking for confirmation they aren’t the “secret holder.” Interesting. By the way, what the hell kinda thing is a “secret hold?”

Sorry for all the tune-talk. Love you bunches, goodnight.