Thu - October 9, 2008
7 years of skinny cows
The economy is going to get worse before it gets
better. If you're in a creative field, prepare to get by on half of what you
got paid last year. If you can offer a half price solution, prepare for a
golden opportunity.
- from my fortune cookie.
also:
consider the joys of being a pessimist, if you're wrong, it's usually a good thing.
- from my fortune cookie.
also:
consider the joys of being a pessimist, if you're wrong, it's usually a good thing.
Posted at 03:07 PM
Tue - August 12, 2008
Stand.
They closed the mountain on me. It was my first
day snowboarding and it takes me forever to learn, so much so that I was still
slipping and sliding down when the mountain closed. They sent someone on a
snowmobile out to get me and he found me sitting down, all the strength gone
from my legs. He got off his snowmobile and got me on my feet and as I started
to slide forward I was so tired that I just sort of sagged against him and he
trotted awkwardly alongside me keeping me upright while I slid forward. After
20 feet of that he stopped and said: "I can't help you all the way down, you
have to stand up on your own."
So much of life, we lack the courage or the will or the strength to stand on our own. If only we had help. If only he had someone to follow. If only we things had been a little easier. Unfortunately, life isn't a reality TV show, no one shows up to force us to be who we're supposed to be. Help is all around us, but in the end, the will, the thing that gets us off our butts and into the studio/gym/stage/slopes comes from us or it does not come at all. No one can walk us down the slope. Dreams are made and forged not in a day, but day after day. It is our own daily battle to choose between the things that take us farther from our dreams and the things that take us closer.
Fight well.
from the song one more:
It feels like I have lost this fight
they think that I am staying down
but I'm not giving up tonight
tonight the wall is coming down
I am stronger than my fears
this is the mountain that I climb
got 100 steps to go
tonight I'll make it 99.
one more, we can go one more.
UPDATE: since you asked, here's how the story ended: I eventually made it down, completely exhausted. The place was closed and somehow I had lost my locker key. When we found someone who could open the locker it turned out to be a cute girl who was sweet about it and I would have tried to impress her except that my tired legs gave out when I tried to hand her something and I fell against some chairs knocking them over. That actually summarizes much of my dating life.
So much of life, we lack the courage or the will or the strength to stand on our own. If only we had help. If only he had someone to follow. If only we things had been a little easier. Unfortunately, life isn't a reality TV show, no one shows up to force us to be who we're supposed to be. Help is all around us, but in the end, the will, the thing that gets us off our butts and into the studio/gym/stage/slopes comes from us or it does not come at all. No one can walk us down the slope. Dreams are made and forged not in a day, but day after day. It is our own daily battle to choose between the things that take us farther from our dreams and the things that take us closer.
Fight well.
from the song one more:
It feels like I have lost this fight
they think that I am staying down
but I'm not giving up tonight
tonight the wall is coming down
I am stronger than my fears
this is the mountain that I climb
got 100 steps to go
tonight I'll make it 99.
one more, we can go one more.
UPDATE: since you asked, here's how the story ended: I eventually made it down, completely exhausted. The place was closed and somehow I had lost my locker key. When we found someone who could open the locker it turned out to be a cute girl who was sweet about it and I would have tried to impress her except that my tired legs gave out when I tried to hand her something and I fell against some chairs knocking them over. That actually summarizes much of my dating life.
Posted at 11:01 AM
Fri - July 18, 2008
thought...
here's my favorite quote of the
month:
"We buy things we don't need to impress people we don't like"
- Mary Ellen Edmunds
"We buy things we don't need to impress people we don't like"
- Mary Ellen Edmunds
Posted at 11:23 PM
Wed - July 9, 2008
gone for a week
I'm going to be in mexico this week if anyone is
trying to find me. I hopefully will be able to check my email.
Posted at 12:47 AM
Mon - June 9, 2008
Heart Murmurs
"Your dog has a heart murmur" pronounced the vet. We were at the emergency clinic for a cut on Brynn's paw and after a tech had spent an inordinately long time listening to her heart, he called in a senior vet. The senior vet looked so young that I promptly christened him Doggie Howser. He told us she had a grade 2 heart murmur. We were instructed to take her to our regular vet as soon as possible for a full workup. Heart murmurs are a very common cause of death in boxers and incurable.
Before we'd been to the vet I'd been getting annoyed with my high energy dog. She's incredibly stubborn and requires ridiculous amounts of exercise or she just pesters me all day long. I'm pretty much the dog whisperer with all dogs except this one. Seriously, I calm wild animals. I'm Dr. Doolittle. Except with my dog. And I'd been starting to threaten her with Craigslist. Since she doesn't know what that is, it was largely ineffective.
After we found out she might die anytime, the annoyance pretty much faded right away. When you know your time is limited, it changes everything.
She went back to our regular vet and he spent awhile listening to her heart. After a good long exam he said "I don't know what they were listening to, but as far as I can tell, she's perfectly healthy."
So she's fine. But I find that I'm rarely annoyed with her anymore. What the vet made clear to me, was that my time with her was limited. In fact, our time with everyone is limited. We shouldn't have to wait till tragedy strikes to value our time with people. The tragedy is not when we become separated from people. The true tragedy is if we do not use the time we do have with them. I know i've sung this song a million times, but I guess I have to sing it to myself every day since I keep forgetting it.
live. love. forgive. never give up.
peace yo
max
Posted at 01:50 AM
Wed - May 21, 2008
lost and found.
Shara and I were exercising our dog in the big empty field behind our property. It's been slated for 52 homes but right now it just sits while they go through city planning. There's a big old horse pen at the very back and we were in there throwing the frisbee around. We need Brynn fenced otherwise she just runs away and across the busy street. It's normally just me and I normally use a cloth frisbee but on monday I was trying out the older plastic frisbee. I gave it a hard throw and the wind took it and carried it far far away deep into the tall grass where we try not to go because it's tick and snake party back there. We trekked back to get it and Shara heard something crying on the other side of the fence. It turned out to be the little dog you see above. He was shaking and crying and trapped back there. I had to clear a whole lot of thorn bushes and thickets to get to him, crawling on my hands and knees while holding out a hot dog. It wasn't fun. He had a collar and a name and a number and a family that had been missing him for 3 days. He was 13 years old and just a wee little dog. The family was overjoyed that someone had found him and the amazing thing was, they live over 1.5 miles from us with only major roads in between us. Most of those roads have no shoulder. It's a miracle he wasn't hit. We are the only people who go back in that field. I pulled 3 ticks off him and he very much enjoyed a hot dog, some water and a cup of dry dog food. He was so happy to be found that if I wasn't holding him he would cry and crawl back into my lap. After the tearful reunion in which both dog and family were crying and shaking I looked at my arms. They were covered in scratches and welts and it was a powerful reminder to me of the cuts and welts on the arms of the saviour who saved me.
Posted at 01:24 PM
Wed - February 13, 2008
working through the storm
One thing that amuses me about reality TV is the
ridiculous challenges they set people:
Design a couture outfit for female astronauts that looks good on the runway and can withstand hard vacuum. You have 6 hours, some kevlar, a butter knife and ziploc baggies provided courtesy of ziploc corporation. The winning design will be featured on the first suborbital flight from Virgin Galactic and the bonus for this mission is a Toyota Prius. Go!
Then we get to watch the people get incredibly stressed out because their lives are quite literally at stake. It's the modern equivalent of the Roman coliseum. They're not in danger of being eaten by lions, but some of them look like they would very well take on a lion to get to that prize. Sometimes the challenges are really ludicrous, but they're actually good preparation for life. It very rarely lines up that you have a perfect shot at the target. We want to cry out, "but if I had more time, if I had more money, if I had more something... I could make this work". But in the end, it's only the people who make it work in the storm that make it work at all, because it's always uphill.
I'm thinking about this because I'm in that place right now with this record. I don't have enough time and people keep throwing new twists at me and demanding more things. I'm running on about 5 hours of sleep a night and it's all I can do not to snap at people when they ask for just one more thing. I have only so many precious days left till the band leaves for tour and when I forget that no one wants to work on valentines day it is a crushing blow to lose another day. The sleeplessness exaggerates the stress and I get pissy over things like the fact that the word; exaggerate has 2 gs.
But many records ago, I realized that there's only 2 choices. Pack up and go home or get it done under less than perfect conditions. I whine and complain about the storm but we do the work as best as we can. When we turn it in, it's never what I wanted, but it's the best we could do with the circumstances we were given.
So when you find yourself working in the storm or slogging through the desert, wail, cry out, beat your fists against the wall. But never quit moving forward. Because life is always less than perfect and the ones who learn to fly in the storm are the ones who learn to fly in life.
now. back to the studio for me.
I need to either clone me or invent a time machine. ack!
Design a couture outfit for female astronauts that looks good on the runway and can withstand hard vacuum. You have 6 hours, some kevlar, a butter knife and ziploc baggies provided courtesy of ziploc corporation. The winning design will be featured on the first suborbital flight from Virgin Galactic and the bonus for this mission is a Toyota Prius. Go!
Then we get to watch the people get incredibly stressed out because their lives are quite literally at stake. It's the modern equivalent of the Roman coliseum. They're not in danger of being eaten by lions, but some of them look like they would very well take on a lion to get to that prize. Sometimes the challenges are really ludicrous, but they're actually good preparation for life. It very rarely lines up that you have a perfect shot at the target. We want to cry out, "but if I had more time, if I had more money, if I had more something... I could make this work". But in the end, it's only the people who make it work in the storm that make it work at all, because it's always uphill.
I'm thinking about this because I'm in that place right now with this record. I don't have enough time and people keep throwing new twists at me and demanding more things. I'm running on about 5 hours of sleep a night and it's all I can do not to snap at people when they ask for just one more thing. I have only so many precious days left till the band leaves for tour and when I forget that no one wants to work on valentines day it is a crushing blow to lose another day. The sleeplessness exaggerates the stress and I get pissy over things like the fact that the word; exaggerate has 2 gs.
But many records ago, I realized that there's only 2 choices. Pack up and go home or get it done under less than perfect conditions. I whine and complain about the storm but we do the work as best as we can. When we turn it in, it's never what I wanted, but it's the best we could do with the circumstances we were given.
So when you find yourself working in the storm or slogging through the desert, wail, cry out, beat your fists against the wall. But never quit moving forward. Because life is always less than perfect and the ones who learn to fly in the storm are the ones who learn to fly in life.
now. back to the studio for me.
I need to either clone me or invent a time machine. ack!
Posted at 11:05 AM
Tue - December 25, 2007
twas the night before Christmas
twas the night before Christmas
and all through the -
not a creature was stirring, not even a -
uh oh....
so we've had a bit of a mouse problem and I can't bring myself to kill them, but mice are fast! They are very hard to catch if you're trying not to squish them. We had one holed up in the closet and it ate the cookies that were supposed to go in my stocking. We named it Tom after the episode of south park where Tom Cruise won't come out of the closet. We got him trapped and released and I think I sealed the hole where they're coming in, but shortly thereafter we saw this little guy scampering about and after we cornered him I had to fashion a trap out of things I could reach without taking my eyes off of his hiding place. Mice move so fast if you stop looking for even a second they dart away and you've lost them. I made this trap out of a salad spinner bowl, some headphones and a roll of packing tape. Unbelievably it worked. After we released our third house mouse Klaus we haven't seen anymore. Let's hope we stay mouse free in 08.
For those of you who remember last year's puppy pictures of Brynn, you can see, that despite having gotten bigger she hasn't really changed much since her puppy days.
Happy Holidays everyone!
Posted at 04:32 AM
Tue - December 11, 2007
The walk of shame.
If you've ever run out of toilet paper when you
really needed it then you know what the walk of shame is. Whether you buy
toilet paper before or after you run out, you're still going to the store and
buying toilet paper. BUT if you buy it BEFORE you run out, then you avoid the
walk of shame. You also avoid the awkward thing that happens when you have a
friend over and you realize while they're in there that you're out of toilet
paper. What is the correct thing to do here? Slide a paper towel under the
door silently?
It took me a lot of life lessons before I learned that one... ignore that squeal in your brakes and it becomes new brake pads AND new rotors. Pay your credit card late and get overdraft charges. Ignore the cavity till it becomes a root canal. Don't feed your snake.... well.. you get the idea. When you stop living with your parents, those things they always say, those parental cliches become cold hard truths that bite you in the face when you think you're above the rules.
Avoid the walk of shame.
note: the walk of shame is not what touring musicians refer to as the 'bag of shame'. Tour bus companies don't allow number 2 on the bus unless it is equipped with a 'grinder'. (which is rare). So if you're on a bus and it ain't stopping and those nachos you had after the show ain't sitting so good....
It took me a lot of life lessons before I learned that one... ignore that squeal in your brakes and it becomes new brake pads AND new rotors. Pay your credit card late and get overdraft charges. Ignore the cavity till it becomes a root canal. Don't feed your snake.... well.. you get the idea. When you stop living with your parents, those things they always say, those parental cliches become cold hard truths that bite you in the face when you think you're above the rules.
Avoid the walk of shame.
note: the walk of shame is not what touring musicians refer to as the 'bag of shame'. Tour bus companies don't allow number 2 on the bus unless it is equipped with a 'grinder'. (which is rare). So if you're on a bus and it ain't stopping and those nachos you had after the show ain't sitting so good....
Posted at 03:48 AM
Tue - November 27, 2007
One person makes a difference
YouTube - Nationl Anthem
Fenway Park
It was disability awareness day at a Red Sox home game in Boston's Fenway Park. A young man with autism sang the national anthem. Partway through he develops a case of nervous giggles. At first there's a lot of good natured laughter and it's not clear if he's going to be able to finish the song but when he falters, the entire crowd at Fenway joins in and finishes the song with him. It's incredibly moving and one comment I saw said something like this:
"I think people in general are bastard coated bastards with bastard filling, but this almost restored my faith in human nature".
I wasn't there, but I'm going to guess what happened. When the singer began to giggle, while everyone was laughing, one person realized the young man wasn't going to get through the song and to help him, he began to sing along, loud enough that people could hear him. As people realized someone else was singing, they caught on; "oh yah, we can help this guy!" and suddenly an entire stadium of people does the right thing because someone showed them the way.
One person can make a difference.
It was disability awareness day at a Red Sox home game in Boston's Fenway Park. A young man with autism sang the national anthem. Partway through he develops a case of nervous giggles. At first there's a lot of good natured laughter and it's not clear if he's going to be able to finish the song but when he falters, the entire crowd at Fenway joins in and finishes the song with him. It's incredibly moving and one comment I saw said something like this:
"I think people in general are bastard coated bastards with bastard filling, but this almost restored my faith in human nature".
I wasn't there, but I'm going to guess what happened. When the singer began to giggle, while everyone was laughing, one person realized the young man wasn't going to get through the song and to help him, he began to sing along, loud enough that people could hear him. As people realized someone else was singing, they caught on; "oh yah, we can help this guy!" and suddenly an entire stadium of people does the right thing because someone showed them the way.
One person can make a difference.
Posted at 11:07 PM
Sat - October 13, 2007
It's called reality my friend...
I'll admit it, being married changes you. One of
those changes is that I've been getting a lot of secondhand reality TV, which
happens when you share the TiVo. The only show remotely close to actual reality
is America's funniest home videos. But nonetheless we can learn from America's
next top chef/model/cheerleader/ventriloquist/bounty hunter.
1. The sky is the limit.
Do you want to be on the covers of magazines? Be a white rapper? Look like a high school cheerleader again? Life actually has even greater possibilities. Do you want to make records then switch careers midway to shoot magazine covers and then music videos? It's all possible. The prizes exist outside of reality television. They exist in reality. You can't have every prize and you will lose some, but you don't have to get accepted to a reality show to compete. You compete already, the game is called life and you are the star.
2. It's going to be a lot of work.
I heard someone say: "I wanted to be a doctor, but it seemed like too much work." It's true, being a doctor requires a lot of work. Unfortunately, unless your highest aspiration is french fries, everything is a lot of work. Some people get lucky but you can't base your life on getting lucky. Fortune favors the prepared. The one thing TV show contestants get that we don't, is they get told when they're screwing up. You whine; you get yelled at, you slack; you get yelled at, you screw up twice you go home and it's very clear what you did wrong. In real life we don't get that luxury. We just have that nagging feeling that we missed a turn somewhere. In real life you don't have 8 contestants, you have thousands. We think if we were on those shows, when crunch time came we would do better. Well unless you are where you want to be, it is crunch time. Right now there are people competing for your dream and working harder and whining less and making progress not excuses. You are losing time and money reading this blog :)
Life is hard. Everyone is struggling through something. Whether it's a career, growing up or working out, you only move forward if you push. It's not a giant push when the moment arrives, but it's getting into the habit of pushing. You're on the treadmill and you go a little farther everyday. You practice a little longer. You do the thing that scares you. You do it on faith that someday you're going to get somewhere even if you can't see that progress today. No one starts training the day after they're accepted to the olympics. You only get accepted to the olympics if you've been training all your life. Make pushing and growing part of your mindset and you will rise to where you're supposed to be. If you don't want to do all that work, just understand that not living your dream takes almost as much work. It takes a lot of energy to be defensive and bitter and come up with reasons why you didn't succeed.
A lyric from the next album:
If your dream is 100 steps away, how many steps did you take today?
1. The sky is the limit.
Do you want to be on the covers of magazines? Be a white rapper? Look like a high school cheerleader again? Life actually has even greater possibilities. Do you want to make records then switch careers midway to shoot magazine covers and then music videos? It's all possible. The prizes exist outside of reality television. They exist in reality. You can't have every prize and you will lose some, but you don't have to get accepted to a reality show to compete. You compete already, the game is called life and you are the star.
2. It's going to be a lot of work.
I heard someone say: "I wanted to be a doctor, but it seemed like too much work." It's true, being a doctor requires a lot of work. Unfortunately, unless your highest aspiration is french fries, everything is a lot of work. Some people get lucky but you can't base your life on getting lucky. Fortune favors the prepared. The one thing TV show contestants get that we don't, is they get told when they're screwing up. You whine; you get yelled at, you slack; you get yelled at, you screw up twice you go home and it's very clear what you did wrong. In real life we don't get that luxury. We just have that nagging feeling that we missed a turn somewhere. In real life you don't have 8 contestants, you have thousands. We think if we were on those shows, when crunch time came we would do better. Well unless you are where you want to be, it is crunch time. Right now there are people competing for your dream and working harder and whining less and making progress not excuses. You are losing time and money reading this blog :)
Life is hard. Everyone is struggling through something. Whether it's a career, growing up or working out, you only move forward if you push. It's not a giant push when the moment arrives, but it's getting into the habit of pushing. You're on the treadmill and you go a little farther everyday. You practice a little longer. You do the thing that scares you. You do it on faith that someday you're going to get somewhere even if you can't see that progress today. No one starts training the day after they're accepted to the olympics. You only get accepted to the olympics if you've been training all your life. Make pushing and growing part of your mindset and you will rise to where you're supposed to be. If you don't want to do all that work, just understand that not living your dream takes almost as much work. It takes a lot of energy to be defensive and bitter and come up with reasons why you didn't succeed.
A lyric from the next album:
If your dream is 100 steps away, how many steps did you take today?
Posted at 10:13 AM
Fri - October 5, 2007
When worlds collide.
Some shots from David Jay:
OpenSourcePhoto: Sweet Pics!
Some shots from Jen:
AmorOmnia's Xanga Site - Max + Shara 9.22.07
I am so blessed to have such talented and wonderful friends!
Posted at 01:40 PM
Sun - September 16, 2007
Why I am not a rock star...
I was given a pair of blue pajama pants with little
yellow chicks printed all over them. They're quite comfy. I was wearing them
when my dog decided she wanted to go out and do her business early yesterday
morning. Having terrorized me into submission with bouts of doggie diarrhea,
when she wants to go out, out she goes. Now I'm stuck in my backyard, watching
my dog prance around in a sideways hop my sister has dubbed: hippitus hoppitus.
This means she wants to play, a process that can take hours. I can't leave her
out unattended as she will dig a nice big hole in my lawn. After I resigned
myself to being out for awhile, I fetched my acoustic guitar to get some writing
done. Not two minutes outside and my dog is frantically digging a hole right in
front of me. I yell at her to no effect so I have to chase her around the lawn,
holding the acoustic guitar because there's no where to put it down. This is
when I realized that I was not a rock star. Would Sting be caught prancing
around his castle in pajamas, djembe in hand chasing an errant duck? Could Bono
be found in a onesie hurtling after his german shepard in dublin? I think
not.
Sorry the posts have been infrequent, writing has been fast and furious and most of you know what else is keeping me busy. See you all on saturday.
Sorry the posts have been infrequent, writing has been fast and furious and most of you know what else is keeping me busy. See you all on saturday.
Posted at 11:26 AM
Mon - July 23, 2007
a stick figure is worth 1000 words.
xkcd - A
webcomic of romance, sarcasm, math, and language - By Randall
Munroe
I could try to explain the point this beautiful little comic makes but I would just mess it up. Click the link. Live the idea.
I could try to explain the point this beautiful little comic makes but I would just mess it up. Click the link. Live the idea.
Posted at 01:50 AM
Sun - July 1, 2007
Taking chances is the cure for being stuck.
She would be played by Drew Barrymore if they made
a movie about her. She's not happy with her life and she's been in love with
someone who won't love her back for 2 years and nothing has changed. Now all we
need is for her to get fired or humiliated at work and/or for her unrequited
love interest to get engaged. Maybe even a terminal illness and 3 months to
live. Or maybe she gets fed up enough to make the change on her own. So she
packs her bags and moves across the ocean or takes a vacation or starts her own
business or something. Whatever it is, it's a change, because we can see that
what she's been doing for 2 years is a dead end into boredom. And so the movie
begins, the adventure of her new
life.
What if this is your movie? How long do you want to stay in the opening scenes? How soon before you get to the part where you're a fish out of water, making mistakes, figuring things out, awkwardly fitting into your new life, meeting new people. After that comes the part where you make a big mistake and you wonder if you made the right change. Then comes the working hard montage, the training, the determination and ultimately the success. It's a classic story. What if it's your story? When do you want it to start? What if you'll never have a story to tell?
Take that risk. Make that change.
UPDATE: this from a University of Exeter study:
"it's a bit of a cliché to say that we learn more from our mistakes than our successes,' said psychologist Professor Andy Wills of the University of Exeter, 'but for the first time we’ve established just how quickly the brain works to help us avoid repeating errors. By monitoring activity in the brain as it occurs, we were able to identify the moment at which this mechanism kicks in.’"
so there you have it - you learn from your failures better than you learn from success. Get up there, take risks. fall down. Get up anyways... hmmmm. sounds like a lyric....
What if this is your movie? How long do you want to stay in the opening scenes? How soon before you get to the part where you're a fish out of water, making mistakes, figuring things out, awkwardly fitting into your new life, meeting new people. After that comes the part where you make a big mistake and you wonder if you made the right change. Then comes the working hard montage, the training, the determination and ultimately the success. It's a classic story. What if it's your story? When do you want it to start? What if you'll never have a story to tell?
Take that risk. Make that change.
UPDATE: this from a University of Exeter study:
"it's a bit of a cliché to say that we learn more from our mistakes than our successes,' said psychologist Professor Andy Wills of the University of Exeter, 'but for the first time we’ve established just how quickly the brain works to help us avoid repeating errors. By monitoring activity in the brain as it occurs, we were able to identify the moment at which this mechanism kicks in.’"
so there you have it - you learn from your failures better than you learn from success. Get up there, take risks. fall down. Get up anyways... hmmmm. sounds like a lyric....
Posted at 03:05 PM
Mon - June 25, 2007
Doing my part.
OK, so I'll admit, I'm tired of hearing about the enviroment... I'm not a scientist and I've heard so many people argue about the effects of global warming that I just don't know who's right anymore. I dutifully recycled until I found out that a lot of it ends up in landfill. It all seems so futile. What difference can I make?
And then I read an article by Orson Scott Card, who's one of my favorite authors and he pointed out that regardless of all the debate, one thing that everyone agrees on, is that we are running out of oil. Imagine if we were cutting down the giant redwood sequoia trees for firewood. They've been growing for 2000 years. Oil takes hundreds of thousands of years to form. (so the scientists tell me).
So why do we care? We'll probably all have hybrid or electric cars by then?
Well... unfortunately, there's no such thing as an electric plane. That doesn't just mean we'll all be taking trains and boats to our destinations, the strawberries you ate this morning for breakfast weren't grown locally, they were flown in. Our entire economy is built around the air transport infrastructure. In addition, plastics which we use for almost everything, come from oil. The less oil we use, the longer we give ourselves time to figure out alternatives, thus preventing something catastrophic happening like a collapse of our economy.
Of course I've heard it all before and you have too, it's hard to care but for some reason, after reading that article I started to care again. I don't want to be an activist, but I do believe that the world I come in contact with is my world to keep nice. I believe that we are all one tribe and the world is our lawn. I'm going to start making some changes. Little things, but I'm going to start trying to take better care of the world we will leave our children. My next car will likely be either hybrid or a mini cooper. Something that gets better milage. Or maybe it won't even be a car.
Oh yah. I bought the ducati motorcycle pictured above. I'm going to drive it a lot instead of my car. See... saving the enviroment can be sexxxxxyyyyyyy.....
let's ride!
(for you photogs out there, this is the same old technique I always do, 1: enlist sister to hold shoot-through umbrella, 2. expose for the background manually, 3. creep the flash up for the foreground manually, 4. photoshop to taste. Shooting vehicles is tough, typically you need a light source bigger than your vehicle to avoid obvious reflections.)
Posted at 10:12 PM
Sun - May 13, 2007
End of an era
Well, it had to happen. It was time to close camp superchick down. 11 years of experiments, prototypes, gear and plain ol living had to go.... somewhere. Unfortunately, I'm a sentimental packrat and I can't throw things away. Sometimes I don't even know what it is and I can't throw it away. It all had to go. It either went into the van, the trailer, the goodwill box or the dumpster. The dumpster as you can see above, was 20 feet by 8 feet by 6 feet tall. We filled it. Completely. I still took home a van and trailer full of stuff. I was really struck by how much I waste, no matter how careful I am. I'm frugal. Really. But as I threw away brand new shirts, I realized that i had paid for it, ($20) paid to store it ($80 a month) and now was paying to throw it away. ($400 for the dumpster service). And I'd never even worn it. That lead to the formation of a new mantra for me: "love it or leave it". From now on, I'm only going to buy something if it really moves me. It was the greatest incentive to not spend money when I went shopping later. I have a friend who describes knickknacks that people buy as "landfill" and after this week I sure know what she's talking about.
It took literally a week to fish it all out of the crawlspace and closets and off the floor. My patient sister got subjected to endless stories as box after box triggered story after story. I saved it all; cards, letters, manuals, invitations, contracts, tour itineraries, backstage passes, diagrams scribbled on notepads, lyrics on the backs of envelopes, phone numbers on napkins, puzzle pieces of my life. Maybe when I get old and can't remember everything I can reconstruct my life through these endless boxes.
When I was doing my last walkthrough, I checked behind the studio door. Years ago, I had stuck a "storage" sign up on the door leading out of the studio because that's how I viewed the rest of the house. In the empty room where we had created for 11 years, I pulled down the sign and tucked it in my back pocket and it reminded me of the very last episode of friends when they leave the apartment for good. I closed the door on a time when we were young, we knew nothing, we had nothing to lose and our whole lives ahead of us. Ah Gurnee, how I'll miss you.
UPDATE: to clear up the confusion, we've moved the studio to a shiny new place in franklin, TN and are plotting the next superchick record even as you read this.
Posted at 09:26 PM
Fri - April 20, 2007
Watch over one another, let no one slip under unnoticed.
When I was a kid at camp, you had to go with a
buddy if you wanted to swim in the lake - and you had to stay with him the
entire time you were in the water. If you lost your buddy, you had to tell
the lifeguard and he would blow the whistle and everyone would have to stop
swimming until your buddy was found. Lakes aren't pools; you can't see
under the surface. With a hundred kids in the lake, this was a good way to make
sure that no one slipped under, unnoticed. The lesson was clear: swimming
in the lake could be dangerous, but together, we could watch out for one
another. No one would go in alone.
I wish we had a buddy system for life.
We can't change what happened at Virginia Tech. We can't change what happened at Columbine. But maybe we can change the lives of the people around us. We shouldn't need tragedies to remind us that people are sad, broken and aching. The world is our family. If you notice someone alone or hurting or lost, reach out to them. Give of yourself. Heal the wounds inflicted by others. Replace hurt with kindness before hate grows in the empty space where love should be.
Pray that your eyes are opened to those who need your love in their life. We have the power to make huge changes in society with our tiny lives. Make your life about something more than you. All around you, people need you.
Let no one slip under the water, unnoticed.
Peace and brotherlove,
Max
Our song Hero, which relates to this, is downloadable at www.inpop.com . We've made it a free download because we hope it sparks discussions and thought. Please pass it along if it moves you.
I wish we had a buddy system for life.
We can't change what happened at Virginia Tech. We can't change what happened at Columbine. But maybe we can change the lives of the people around us. We shouldn't need tragedies to remind us that people are sad, broken and aching. The world is our family. If you notice someone alone or hurting or lost, reach out to them. Give of yourself. Heal the wounds inflicted by others. Replace hurt with kindness before hate grows in the empty space where love should be.
Pray that your eyes are opened to those who need your love in their life. We have the power to make huge changes in society with our tiny lives. Make your life about something more than you. All around you, people need you.
Let no one slip under the water, unnoticed.
Peace and brotherlove,
Max
Our song Hero, which relates to this, is downloadable at www.inpop.com . We've made it a free download because we hope it sparks discussions and thought. Please pass it along if it moves you.
Posted at 02:45 AM
Mon - April 9, 2007
time is ticking away.... tick tick ticking away.
While I was procrastinating writing some difficult
lyrics today, I found a neat little motivator. Go to www.deathclock.com, type
in your info and it gives you a timer that counts down towards your projected
death. It seems we are all immortally challenged. Of course it's only an
approximation of your last call, but it really helps make clear the fact that we
only have so much time. There's nothing like surfing the internet while
watching your life tick by. Did I really need to watch that video of a cow
eating a baby chick?
do we really have time to hold grudges? to spend on anger and bitterness and needing to be right?
do we have time to burn while our book goes unwritten?
do we have time to waste not knowing what it is we really wanted to do with our lives?
do I have time to blog instead of working on lyrics?
argh! procrastination is my enemy.
tick tick tick...
creativity is frustrating sometimes, but I am more frustrated when I know deep inside that I have not been doing the work. When I have spent a day banging my head against the wall and gotten nothing, it is better than when I spent the day running errands secretly avoiding my work.
UPDATE:
some of you have been wondering why it's so hard to write lyrics.
I'm always trying to squeeze ideas and truths that are personally important into songs. I'm not a poet, I'm really more of a guidance counselor who raps... it can be awkward. Picture Will Ferrell at the piano. Having loved hip hop growing up, I try to make my cadences and rhymes interesting, the problem really hits though when I have a complex idea and try to squeeze it into an unusual rhyming scheme. Some of the rhymes I come up with are so twisted only I know how they work and to make them work I have to rhyme words with themselves. It's not art, it's a trainwreck. There's a number of songs that died a painful multi-syllabic death on the highway of lost songs. Ask Tricia sometime about the sociological tongue twister I wrote called 10 bucks. The band gamely tried to follow me, but the concept - that we give strangers opinions way more value than that of our family and people who love us, just wouldn't translate into song. Also, left by the wayside, the sad little song: you're my obi wan kenobi.
Here's today's dilemma.
I used to flirt with suicide. I was really too much of a wuss to do anything about it, but there was a point in my life where the idea of bowing out seemed really appealing. It's really a lie, kind of like wanting to lie down when you're hypothermic. The lie is that your life will never get better and it will always be this bad, so I got excited lately when I read about someone else who had been suicidal cause I thought he had learned something important.
When you're deeply depressed or suicidal, sometimes you literally can't shake yourself out of it. You actually can't force yourself to buck up or you can't conceive of a life outside of your personal misery. It's really all you can do just to breathe and hold on to maybe one idea, like a drowning person holding onto a slippery rock jutting out of the water. When you're miserable you run on hope and when you run out of hope you run on faith and when faith runs out, sometimes all that's left is that slippery rock. So this guy found himself in that place wanting to let go and slip under quietly. But then he started making up reasons to go on, like say... a new xbox game was coming out, or a new movie he wanted to see.. he'd just hold on until then. And he did that, silly reason from silly reason till one day it wasn't that bad anymore and he could breathe without hurting.
And the idea, the idea he found is so beautiful and important that I had to encapsulate it into a song.
I found some music that was worthy of it, which is so hard and found a melody even that fits it and Tricia sounds so beautiful on it and it's become in some ways about anyone who's just holding on and it became partially about Tricia's mom having cancer recently and it's going to be one of our best songs ever. It's just that it's really really hard to finish something when it's good, because the standards are now so high. And the rhyme scheme I wrote is very odd and this idea, this beautiful idea that I'm trying to marry to this beautiful music is just not fitting easily.
but hopefully I'll get it to fit and it won't be ugly and awkward.
I just spoke to Melissa in Australia and she said the shows are going great and the kids are singing along and they know all the words. It's so strange and humbling to think that as I sit here, locked in the studio, wrestling with these words, someday, later, kids across the ocean will sing them back to us.
UPDATED UPDATE: A useful tool for lyricists is www.rhymezone.com where you can type in a word you're stuck on and get rhymes, synonyms, quotes e.t.c. Also you can go ahead and do a google search for your topic or idea and see what ideas pop up to inspire you. Best of all, it's free!
do we really have time to hold grudges? to spend on anger and bitterness and needing to be right?
do we have time to burn while our book goes unwritten?
do we have time to waste not knowing what it is we really wanted to do with our lives?
do I have time to blog instead of working on lyrics?
argh! procrastination is my enemy.
tick tick tick...
creativity is frustrating sometimes, but I am more frustrated when I know deep inside that I have not been doing the work. When I have spent a day banging my head against the wall and gotten nothing, it is better than when I spent the day running errands secretly avoiding my work.
UPDATE:
some of you have been wondering why it's so hard to write lyrics.
I'm always trying to squeeze ideas and truths that are personally important into songs. I'm not a poet, I'm really more of a guidance counselor who raps... it can be awkward. Picture Will Ferrell at the piano. Having loved hip hop growing up, I try to make my cadences and rhymes interesting, the problem really hits though when I have a complex idea and try to squeeze it into an unusual rhyming scheme. Some of the rhymes I come up with are so twisted only I know how they work and to make them work I have to rhyme words with themselves. It's not art, it's a trainwreck. There's a number of songs that died a painful multi-syllabic death on the highway of lost songs. Ask Tricia sometime about the sociological tongue twister I wrote called 10 bucks. The band gamely tried to follow me, but the concept - that we give strangers opinions way more value than that of our family and people who love us, just wouldn't translate into song. Also, left by the wayside, the sad little song: you're my obi wan kenobi.
Here's today's dilemma.
I used to flirt with suicide. I was really too much of a wuss to do anything about it, but there was a point in my life where the idea of bowing out seemed really appealing. It's really a lie, kind of like wanting to lie down when you're hypothermic. The lie is that your life will never get better and it will always be this bad, so I got excited lately when I read about someone else who had been suicidal cause I thought he had learned something important.
When you're deeply depressed or suicidal, sometimes you literally can't shake yourself out of it. You actually can't force yourself to buck up or you can't conceive of a life outside of your personal misery. It's really all you can do just to breathe and hold on to maybe one idea, like a drowning person holding onto a slippery rock jutting out of the water. When you're miserable you run on hope and when you run out of hope you run on faith and when faith runs out, sometimes all that's left is that slippery rock. So this guy found himself in that place wanting to let go and slip under quietly. But then he started making up reasons to go on, like say... a new xbox game was coming out, or a new movie he wanted to see.. he'd just hold on until then. And he did that, silly reason from silly reason till one day it wasn't that bad anymore and he could breathe without hurting.
And the idea, the idea he found is so beautiful and important that I had to encapsulate it into a song.
I found some music that was worthy of it, which is so hard and found a melody even that fits it and Tricia sounds so beautiful on it and it's become in some ways about anyone who's just holding on and it became partially about Tricia's mom having cancer recently and it's going to be one of our best songs ever. It's just that it's really really hard to finish something when it's good, because the standards are now so high. And the rhyme scheme I wrote is very odd and this idea, this beautiful idea that I'm trying to marry to this beautiful music is just not fitting easily.
but hopefully I'll get it to fit and it won't be ugly and awkward.
I just spoke to Melissa in Australia and she said the shows are going great and the kids are singing along and they know all the words. It's so strange and humbling to think that as I sit here, locked in the studio, wrestling with these words, someday, later, kids across the ocean will sing them back to us.
UPDATED UPDATE: A useful tool for lyricists is www.rhymezone.com where you can type in a word you're stuck on and get rhymes, synonyms, quotes e.t.c. Also you can go ahead and do a google search for your topic or idea and see what ideas pop up to inspire you. Best of all, it's free!
Posted at 05:27 PM
Thu - March 22, 2007
Life after happily ever after. The true story of a fairy tale ending.
Once upon a time in the fairy tale kingdom, there
lived a young orphan. He enjoyed a normal life, full of hard work, but was not
mistreated as orphans can be. He did have a friend whose 3 older sisters kept
making her do all the housework, but secretly he suspected maybe she was a bit
of a drama queen.
One day a passing minstrel told a grand story about someone who slew a mighty dragon, won lands, a princess and lived happily ever after as a prince.
On the way back from the market, the orphan couldn't stop thinking: Happily ever after... living as a prince...a grand story to impress people with. Soon he sought out the minstrel asking, "Are there still dragons to slay? The kind that makes you a prince?"
"Indeed there are," replied the minstrel.
And so our orphan set off on his quest. The journey was long and there was much training to be done. Years went by while the lad worked hard to get into dragon-killing school, and then years of school went by, but it was all worth it for 'happily ever after.' Just thinking about it got him through the drudgery - sanding the floor, waxing the cars...
After graduation he set out to slay his dragon. Fortunately, dragons are not hard to find and there was a minor kingdom with a pesky smaller dragon or possibly larger alligator that needed to be dispatched. Having learned well in dragon-killing school he negotiated with the king's wizard: the customary one-third of the kingdom, princess and the all-important 'happily ever after' clause. He also signed away his publishing because the wizard told him, "It's industry standard; everyone does it."
So he was off with a dragon to kill and a contract in hand.
He killed it.
The dragon was sleeping - it took about 30 seconds. The worst part of it was all the permits and paperwork and tax forms, which took 6 months to get filed properly. No one was there to witness it, so there was no one to cheer for him. Strangely, he didn't feel any different. He went back to the kingdom, got everything he wanted, married the princess and settled down for happily ever after.
His life was perfect. He and his pretty princess never fought. She never talked back to him and made him anything he wanted to eat, although sometimes she seemed a bit robotic in her happiness.
After a year he was bored and fat. He had a strange feeling that he should be happier, but it felt like the day after Christmas when the magical toys turn back into plastic and paint. Now he didn't even have Christmas to look forward to. All those years aimed at getting to 'happily ever after'. Now that he was "happy," he wondered how he was going to handle the ever after part.
One day he bumped into his old friend, the drama queen. She'd managed happily ever after as well: she told him some long story about a glass slipper and a prince but he wasn't really listening. When he found out that she got 'happily ever after' too, he perked up.
"Did you ever think that 'happily ever after' could be so boring?" he asked her.
"Oh no! I'm perfectly happy. Later today I'm going to pick out some nice end tables and maybe some new bath mats since it's summer," she said with a glassy smile.
The boredom gnawed at him like a dog with an old bone. He thought life should be about more than bath mats and end tables.
Eventually he found an old wise man in a cave on a mountain. The old man sent him back for his contract.
"Ah yes.. the 'happily ever after' clause. They get you on that every time. Everyone thinks they want that. You have to read the fine print here. Let me guess, you don't have kids right?"
The startled look on the prince's face confirmed his guess so he continued, "See, kids are strictly prohibited in the contract... having kids or even pets introduces the possibility that they might get hurt or hurt you, which nullifies the 'happily ever after' part. You're not allowed to have anything that might die. In fact, you're not even allowed to have a wife."
"But if i have a wife," protested the prince.
"Well, let me guess... Really nice, never talks back, cooks anything you want?"
At the prince's mute nod he continued, "That's not a woman, that's a robot...everyone knows real women aren't like that."
The prince was horrified.
Presently, the old man sighed.
"See... there's no such thing as 'happily ever after.' If you're going to live fully, it's going to hurt. When you love, you open the door to hurt and loss. If you're living it properly, life is messy, imperfect and a beautiful chaos, full of change. There is no 'happily ever after,' but there is true joy to be found in every day. You hold onto that joy when grief finds you and it gets you through. The 'happily ever after' you've been chasing actually means being closed in a little box and never risking life or love. It only exists in fairy tales. You spent your life trying to get to this place, but now that you're here you're not living anymore."
The young man sat in confusion. Finally, he ventured, "But my whole life has been waiting to be happy ever after - I don't know how to live at all."
The old man replied, "And that's part of life too; you can't know. I don't know how it works and I live in a cave on a mountain. No one knows because it's different for every person. That's part of the great mystery of it. You figure it out one day at a time. There's no place to get to where you have it all figured out. There is no 'happily ever after.' The great quest of life is learning to find the joy in today. Happily ever now."
After a time the young man went down from the mountain. When he came home, he discovered that indeed, his wife was a robot. He put her in a closet and set about learning to live. Eventually he went on to slay other dragons just for the sheer joy of it, and found himself with a sassy wife who talked back to him, belched loudly and burned the toast. They had 3 beautiful children, a dog and a cat, and they all lived happily ever after.
Well, they didn't really - the young man was allergic to the cat and the dog farted horribly, but you get the idea.
The wizard later went on to become very rich in the record business by introducing the concept of signing away your publishing wherein you sell a publisher your publishing rights (potential income) for an advance (loan), which you pay back in full, but after which the publisher continues to own your publishing. He then sold the idea to Satan which Satan used for the whole "sell your soul" concept.
One day a passing minstrel told a grand story about someone who slew a mighty dragon, won lands, a princess and lived happily ever after as a prince.
On the way back from the market, the orphan couldn't stop thinking: Happily ever after... living as a prince...a grand story to impress people with. Soon he sought out the minstrel asking, "Are there still dragons to slay? The kind that makes you a prince?"
"Indeed there are," replied the minstrel.
And so our orphan set off on his quest. The journey was long and there was much training to be done. Years went by while the lad worked hard to get into dragon-killing school, and then years of school went by, but it was all worth it for 'happily ever after.' Just thinking about it got him through the drudgery - sanding the floor, waxing the cars...
After graduation he set out to slay his dragon. Fortunately, dragons are not hard to find and there was a minor kingdom with a pesky smaller dragon or possibly larger alligator that needed to be dispatched. Having learned well in dragon-killing school he negotiated with the king's wizard: the customary one-third of the kingdom, princess and the all-important 'happily ever after' clause. He also signed away his publishing because the wizard told him, "It's industry standard; everyone does it."
So he was off with a dragon to kill and a contract in hand.
He killed it.
The dragon was sleeping - it took about 30 seconds. The worst part of it was all the permits and paperwork and tax forms, which took 6 months to get filed properly. No one was there to witness it, so there was no one to cheer for him. Strangely, he didn't feel any different. He went back to the kingdom, got everything he wanted, married the princess and settled down for happily ever after.
His life was perfect. He and his pretty princess never fought. She never talked back to him and made him anything he wanted to eat, although sometimes she seemed a bit robotic in her happiness.
After a year he was bored and fat. He had a strange feeling that he should be happier, but it felt like the day after Christmas when the magical toys turn back into plastic and paint. Now he didn't even have Christmas to look forward to. All those years aimed at getting to 'happily ever after'. Now that he was "happy," he wondered how he was going to handle the ever after part.
One day he bumped into his old friend, the drama queen. She'd managed happily ever after as well: she told him some long story about a glass slipper and a prince but he wasn't really listening. When he found out that she got 'happily ever after' too, he perked up.
"Did you ever think that 'happily ever after' could be so boring?" he asked her.
"Oh no! I'm perfectly happy. Later today I'm going to pick out some nice end tables and maybe some new bath mats since it's summer," she said with a glassy smile.
The boredom gnawed at him like a dog with an old bone. He thought life should be about more than bath mats and end tables.
Eventually he found an old wise man in a cave on a mountain. The old man sent him back for his contract.
"Ah yes.. the 'happily ever after' clause. They get you on that every time. Everyone thinks they want that. You have to read the fine print here. Let me guess, you don't have kids right?"
The startled look on the prince's face confirmed his guess so he continued, "See, kids are strictly prohibited in the contract... having kids or even pets introduces the possibility that they might get hurt or hurt you, which nullifies the 'happily ever after' part. You're not allowed to have anything that might die. In fact, you're not even allowed to have a wife."
"But if i have a wife," protested the prince.
"Well, let me guess... Really nice, never talks back, cooks anything you want?"
At the prince's mute nod he continued, "That's not a woman, that's a robot...everyone knows real women aren't like that."
The prince was horrified.
Presently, the old man sighed.
"See... there's no such thing as 'happily ever after.' If you're going to live fully, it's going to hurt. When you love, you open the door to hurt and loss. If you're living it properly, life is messy, imperfect and a beautiful chaos, full of change. There is no 'happily ever after,' but there is true joy to be found in every day. You hold onto that joy when grief finds you and it gets you through. The 'happily ever after' you've been chasing actually means being closed in a little box and never risking life or love. It only exists in fairy tales. You spent your life trying to get to this place, but now that you're here you're not living anymore."
The young man sat in confusion. Finally, he ventured, "But my whole life has been waiting to be happy ever after - I don't know how to live at all."
The old man replied, "And that's part of life too; you can't know. I don't know how it works and I live in a cave on a mountain. No one knows because it's different for every person. That's part of the great mystery of it. You figure it out one day at a time. There's no place to get to where you have it all figured out. There is no 'happily ever after.' The great quest of life is learning to find the joy in today. Happily ever now."
After a time the young man went down from the mountain. When he came home, he discovered that indeed, his wife was a robot. He put her in a closet and set about learning to live. Eventually he went on to slay other dragons just for the sheer joy of it, and found himself with a sassy wife who talked back to him, belched loudly and burned the toast. They had 3 beautiful children, a dog and a cat, and they all lived happily ever after.
Well, they didn't really - the young man was allergic to the cat and the dog farted horribly, but you get the idea.
The wizard later went on to become very rich in the record business by introducing the concept of signing away your publishing wherein you sell a publisher your publishing rights (potential income) for an advance (loan), which you pay back in full, but after which the publisher continues to own your publishing. He then sold the idea to Satan which Satan used for the whole "sell your soul" concept.
Posted at 02:55 PM
Fri - February 23, 2007
Living passionately
Have you ever seen trekkies? It's a documentary
about people who love star trek. I mean really love star trek. One lady wears
a star fleet uniform complete with phaser to her job and also to the clinton
trial where she was a juror. There's the couple who met at a star trek
convention dressed as klingons. He shoved her to the floor and she shoved back,
which is perfectly acceptable klingon mating protocol. They got married. Don't
even get me started on the erotic fan fiction about Kirk and Spock. Go rent it.
Watch with friends. Don't drink anything while you watch it, lest it come up
through your nose. When it's over you will feel normal, well adjusted and like
you have a life.
But there's more craziness: people stood in line for PS3s, Wiis overnight. Grown men paint their faces and go shirtless to snowy packers games. I have a friend who sews her own award winning costumes to go to comicon dressed as a manga character. There's a lot of crazy people out there.
But don't you ever wonder what it's like to love something that much? For something to mean so much to you, that you do crazy things? That you will endure being mocked for it? That it's so important to who you are, that you don't care what people think?
I think a lack of passion in our lives makes us boring. I think living a normal life leads us with nothing to talk about except TomKat and Brangelina. We live vicariously through our celebrities, because we ourselves, are not living. I think we should be less normal and more passionate.
I've always been drawn to sub-cultures. I have a jeep, a mac, a motorcycle and a snowboard. I know a load bearing carabiner when I see one. I think it's because sub-cultures are full of interesting people. People who get excited about acratch ballheads, warn winches or dyson vacuums. I love people who are passionate. I met a 14 year old girl who can jet a triumph motorcycle engine herself. I asked myself later where she was when I was 14 and matt blithely replied: "2 years from conception".
Tricia and I were asked in an interview what we most looked for in a partner and as if we were playing the new newlywed game, we both answered "passion". We wanted a partner that was passionate about life. Tricia is currently single if any of you passionate males are out there reading this.
So maybe we should all be a little less normal. Maybe getting up early to drive to schutzhund competitions is awesome. Maybe we should all find something we love so much that it helps make our lives meaningful and our stories more about us and less about Britney Spears. Anyone who's competed in the olypmics hasn't had a normal life. None of our great artists were normal. Maybe after trekkies, we should then watch Rudy and cheer for the people who were lucky enough to discover what they were passionate about and spend their life chasing it.
But there's more craziness: people stood in line for PS3s, Wiis overnight. Grown men paint their faces and go shirtless to snowy packers games. I have a friend who sews her own award winning costumes to go to comicon dressed as a manga character. There's a lot of crazy people out there.
But don't you ever wonder what it's like to love something that much? For something to mean so much to you, that you do crazy things? That you will endure being mocked for it? That it's so important to who you are, that you don't care what people think?
I think a lack of passion in our lives makes us boring. I think living a normal life leads us with nothing to talk about except TomKat and Brangelina. We live vicariously through our celebrities, because we ourselves, are not living. I think we should be less normal and more passionate.
I've always been drawn to sub-cultures. I have a jeep, a mac, a motorcycle and a snowboard. I know a load bearing carabiner when I see one. I think it's because sub-cultures are full of interesting people. People who get excited about acratch ballheads, warn winches or dyson vacuums. I love people who are passionate. I met a 14 year old girl who can jet a triumph motorcycle engine herself. I asked myself later where she was when I was 14 and matt blithely replied: "2 years from conception".
Tricia and I were asked in an interview what we most looked for in a partner and as if we were playing the new newlywed game, we both answered "passion". We wanted a partner that was passionate about life. Tricia is currently single if any of you passionate males are out there reading this.
So maybe we should all be a little less normal. Maybe getting up early to drive to schutzhund competitions is awesome. Maybe we should all find something we love so much that it helps make our lives meaningful and our stories more about us and less about Britney Spears. Anyone who's competed in the olypmics hasn't had a normal life. None of our great artists were normal. Maybe after trekkies, we should then watch Rudy and cheer for the people who were lucky enough to discover what they were passionate about and spend their life chasing it.
Posted at 02:48 PM
Mon - February 12, 2007
Guatemala
Guatemala is a beautiful country marred by crushing poverty. I was told that many of the children are pulled out of school after 6th grade because their families need them to work. Some of them grow up short because of the pressure on their spines from carrying heavy loads on their backs in the fields. Other children lose fingers or are burned making fireworks, another side income for poor families. The family we visited has 6 people living in a cardboard and tin shack. A girl who works for compassion to bring relief to these kids said "it's most rewarding when we can see the children starting to dream again." Melissa sponsors a girl in Guatemala and we were able to meet her and give her some small presents which she loved. I heard a story about some sponsors who got to meet their little girl in ecuador and she'd gotten up very early and traveled a great deal to meet her sponsors. They'd brought her some carefully chosen toys and candy and as she held the little treasures she said something very quietly. When they asked the translator, the translator replied: "it's not easy to translate but it's an old ecuadorean saying that basically means: "I can never repay you, but God will."
www.compassion.com
www.worldvision.com
we have so much. we are so blessed.
Posted at 10:53 AM
Mon - January 22, 2007
Art and pressure.
It was the year we first started getting songs in
movies. I was on a snowboarding trip. End of the day. Totally exhausted.
Message on my cell from the girl who placed our song in Legally
Blonde:
"hey max, we're working on music for this scooby doo movie, we're soliciting theme songs from a bunch of writers, would you like to send one in?"
I start feeling all mission impossible, like my cellphone will self destruct after 30 seconds. I feel important. I make my snowboarding tripmates listen to the message on speaker. I've had songs in movies, but I have never been asked to write for a movie. I am going places! I am important! They asked me! I have got to get home RIGHT NOW! I have got to start writing because I have important stuff to do. I have got to get on a plane RIGHT NOW and get to my studio. This is my big break! I am so important that I get yanked off of snowboarding trips to write songs for movies. They need me! Right now! Clear everyone off this plane! (small aside here... they ask a lot of people and usually if they don't use your piece you don't get paid, it's very common.)
So. Now to write a new scooby doo theme song in 3 days.
Got some friends together, whipped up some music, some melodies... now I have to write some lyrics. These have to be good lyrics mind you, this is my big break, I really have to impress these people. This is my only chance. They think I can do this, I can't let them down. They hold the keys to the kingdom... well the magic kingdom anyways.
And that's where I got stuck. I am rusted shut stuck. I rack my brain, I watch scooby doo cartoons, I think and research and gnash my teeth and for the life of me I can't come up with anything good enough for my magnum opus, my hello to the world, my musical calling card, my golden ticket that will earn me the good life. I am stuck. blocked, cramped. I felt like I was at the flying J bathroom needing to number 2 and everyone is on the bus waiting already, late for the show. I am crabby because I am under SO MUCH PRESSURE and everything... the whole world.. depends on this.
And then the crash.
What was I thinking? How could they have asked me? The best people in the world are writing for this? Why would I think I can outwrite them? Who am I kidding? They made a mistake asking me.. they thought I was someone talented. How did I even get this far on my crappy ideas? I am at the olympics ready to compete, but I'm on the jamaican bobsled team. I am exposed! A fraud! A failure! My one chance and I am completely lost! My dream slipping away before my eyes; fame, fortune, the house in the hamptons all sliding through my fingers as I watch the seconds on my clock counting down towards the deadline, like the timer that releases the sharks with fricking laser beams on Austin Powers. Tick tock and I have nothing as the second hand marches inexorably forward, each tick as loud as gunshots in the silence made by the absence of my creativity.
This is a deadline that yanks the curtain aside come monday and reveals me naked because I cannot sew.
And then Rex Carrol stops by to borrow a piece of equipment.
"Well yes Rex, come in, I can loan you this equipment, but I can't tarry long with you, because I am about important things, you see I have been asked for the scooby doo movie and I really have to get back to it...how's it going you ask? well I am a little stuck on the lyrics to be honest."
And then Rex said the magic words:
"How hard can it be? Scooby doo, Saves the world, Has adventures in a van, blah blah blah."
And of course he was right. I was trying way too hard.
To end the story, I wrote some lyrics, much along the lines of what Rex suggested and of while I was fond of the song, they ended up using a song by some other guys... you might have heard of them, I think they're called outkast. :)
It was all for nothing. All that drama and tension and unhappiness... in my head. I didn't get that movie but I did write a song for legally blonde 2 and went on to find my groove and all that, although I would repeat the above process as the stakes got increasingly higher. About the worst it got was when Steve Lillywhite was handling the Aerosmith record and asked me to submit a song for that. I cramped so bad on that one that I actually missed the first deadline. There is no more horrible feeling than hoping he'd forgotten he'd even asked you and then hearing this on your messages:
"Hello max, Steve Lillywhite here, I've got a meeting with Sony and Aerosmith in a few hours and hoping you've got a song that will make me look very good in my meeting."
Like a disgraced yakuza, I had to call and offer to cut off a finger for my profound failure, although I got it together enough to submit a couple songs the next week, one of which Matt and Dave and I wrote that Steve did love, although Aerosmith did not. Ask me why I did not save the message where Steve called me, very excited about the song from the airport having just heard it on his laptop. The answer is.. because I am stupid. Steve was very supportive through the whole thing and honestly... he could not be a nicer guy. He's really a sweet guy.
So moral of the story is;
It is impossible for me to create great art. It is only possible to do art. Some of it is good, some of it is not, but I can only write what comes out and the best stuff tends to come out when I'm not under self imposed pressure. It helps to do lots of art. Then you have the numbers in your favor. When I find myself winding up again, losing perspective, trying to write the music that will bring peace to the world and end poverty, I just tell myself...
"how hard can it be? Scooby doo saves the world, has adventures.. blah blah blah."
"hey max, we're working on music for this scooby doo movie, we're soliciting theme songs from a bunch of writers, would you like to send one in?"
I start feeling all mission impossible, like my cellphone will self destruct after 30 seconds. I feel important. I make my snowboarding tripmates listen to the message on speaker. I've had songs in movies, but I have never been asked to write for a movie. I am going places! I am important! They asked me! I have got to get home RIGHT NOW! I have got to start writing because I have important stuff to do. I have got to get on a plane RIGHT NOW and get to my studio. This is my big break! I am so important that I get yanked off of snowboarding trips to write songs for movies. They need me! Right now! Clear everyone off this plane! (small aside here... they ask a lot of people and usually if they don't use your piece you don't get paid, it's very common.)
So. Now to write a new scooby doo theme song in 3 days.
Got some friends together, whipped up some music, some melodies... now I have to write some lyrics. These have to be good lyrics mind you, this is my big break, I really have to impress these people. This is my only chance. They think I can do this, I can't let them down. They hold the keys to the kingdom... well the magic kingdom anyways.
And that's where I got stuck. I am rusted shut stuck. I rack my brain, I watch scooby doo cartoons, I think and research and gnash my teeth and for the life of me I can't come up with anything good enough for my magnum opus, my hello to the world, my musical calling card, my golden ticket that will earn me the good life. I am stuck. blocked, cramped. I felt like I was at the flying J bathroom needing to number 2 and everyone is on the bus waiting already, late for the show. I am crabby because I am under SO MUCH PRESSURE and everything... the whole world.. depends on this.
And then the crash.
What was I thinking? How could they have asked me? The best people in the world are writing for this? Why would I think I can outwrite them? Who am I kidding? They made a mistake asking me.. they thought I was someone talented. How did I even get this far on my crappy ideas? I am at the olympics ready to compete, but I'm on the jamaican bobsled team. I am exposed! A fraud! A failure! My one chance and I am completely lost! My dream slipping away before my eyes; fame, fortune, the house in the hamptons all sliding through my fingers as I watch the seconds on my clock counting down towards the deadline, like the timer that releases the sharks with fricking laser beams on Austin Powers. Tick tock and I have nothing as the second hand marches inexorably forward, each tick as loud as gunshots in the silence made by the absence of my creativity.
This is a deadline that yanks the curtain aside come monday and reveals me naked because I cannot sew.
And then Rex Carrol stops by to borrow a piece of equipment.
"Well yes Rex, come in, I can loan you this equipment, but I can't tarry long with you, because I am about important things, you see I have been asked for the scooby doo movie and I really have to get back to it...how's it going you ask? well I am a little stuck on the lyrics to be honest."
And then Rex said the magic words:
"How hard can it be? Scooby doo, Saves the world, Has adventures in a van, blah blah blah."
And of course he was right. I was trying way too hard.
To end the story, I wrote some lyrics, much along the lines of what Rex suggested and of while I was fond of the song, they ended up using a song by some other guys... you might have heard of them, I think they're called outkast. :)
It was all for nothing. All that drama and tension and unhappiness... in my head. I didn't get that movie but I did write a song for legally blonde 2 and went on to find my groove and all that, although I would repeat the above process as the stakes got increasingly higher. About the worst it got was when Steve Lillywhite was handling the Aerosmith record and asked me to submit a song for that. I cramped so bad on that one that I actually missed the first deadline. There is no more horrible feeling than hoping he'd forgotten he'd even asked you and then hearing this on your messages:
"Hello max, Steve Lillywhite here, I've got a meeting with Sony and Aerosmith in a few hours and hoping you've got a song that will make me look very good in my meeting."
Like a disgraced yakuza, I had to call and offer to cut off a finger for my profound failure, although I got it together enough to submit a couple songs the next week, one of which Matt and Dave and I wrote that Steve did love, although Aerosmith did not. Ask me why I did not save the message where Steve called me, very excited about the song from the airport having just heard it on his laptop. The answer is.. because I am stupid. Steve was very supportive through the whole thing and honestly... he could not be a nicer guy. He's really a sweet guy.
So moral of the story is;
It is impossible for me to create great art. It is only possible to do art. Some of it is good, some of it is not, but I can only write what comes out and the best stuff tends to come out when I'm not under self imposed pressure. It helps to do lots of art. Then you have the numbers in your favor. When I find myself winding up again, losing perspective, trying to write the music that will bring peace to the world and end poverty, I just tell myself...
"how hard can it be? Scooby doo saves the world, has adventures.. blah blah blah."
Posted at 03:09 AM
Fri - January 12, 2007
New Years Resolutions...er.... suggestions?
Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, it's been crazy
busy here in studio land. The last month was completely sucked up by studio
construction, holiday responsibilities and dog training, although I feel like
the dog has been training me, more than me training the dog. I've read several
books on dog training and they all seem to refer to some compliant dog that is
unrelated to the little terror that I have. Perhaps I don't actually have a
dog, but a very short haired monkey. Just when we settle into a reasonable
co-existance she develops some charming new behaviour. This week it's teething
and humping. In Melissa's words; "max has a teenager." Let's hope this at
least gives me some practice for that
day.
I don't have new year's resolutions, but the things I have been telling myself lately are:
1. Keep moving.
The rudder can't steer a ship that's dead in the water. Planning is good, but you can only plan so much since it all changes on the ground. Start with a plan, jump in and figure it out as you go. If you're stuck, make changes. Whatever it is, keep moving forward. Bruce Lee once said that no matter what happened as long as you keep walking on, the view will always change. This year, I feel like it's important that I talk less and do more and just keep moving forward.
2. Cross that line.
It's the theme for our next record and it means that when you come to the point where sensible people stop... don't stop. Rosa Parks crossed the line. Martin Luther King crossed the line. Ghandi, Mother Theresa, all of our great leaders lived boldly. I worked on a record that Moby had a song on and he was disturbed enough by how derivative the rest of the record was that he wrote us a letter admonishing us for it. He asked forgiveness for his letter, but said these words that I'll always remember: "I want us to live and create boldly. If Christ had not lived boldly he would have been known for his ability with a hammer rather than his willingness to be hammered." In small things or in big things, in life, in art, why not take chances, risks, be a little odd, kooky, risky or revolutionary? Do the thing you never thought you'd do. Cross that line.
Hopefully soon, I'll post everything I've learned about acoustics and budget construction of a home studio. yay!
I don't have new year's resolutions, but the things I have been telling myself lately are:
1. Keep moving.
The rudder can't steer a ship that's dead in the water. Planning is good, but you can only plan so much since it all changes on the ground. Start with a plan, jump in and figure it out as you go. If you're stuck, make changes. Whatever it is, keep moving forward. Bruce Lee once said that no matter what happened as long as you keep walking on, the view will always change. This year, I feel like it's important that I talk less and do more and just keep moving forward.
2. Cross that line.
It's the theme for our next record and it means that when you come to the point where sensible people stop... don't stop. Rosa Parks crossed the line. Martin Luther King crossed the line. Ghandi, Mother Theresa, all of our great leaders lived boldly. I worked on a record that Moby had a song on and he was disturbed enough by how derivative the rest of the record was that he wrote us a letter admonishing us for it. He asked forgiveness for his letter, but said these words that I'll always remember: "I want us to live and create boldly. If Christ had not lived boldly he would have been known for his ability with a hammer rather than his willingness to be hammered." In small things or in big things, in life, in art, why not take chances, risks, be a little odd, kooky, risky or revolutionary? Do the thing you never thought you'd do. Cross that line.
Hopefully soon, I'll post everything I've learned about acoustics and budget construction of a home studio. yay!
Posted at 06:08 PM
Tue - December 26, 2006
Happy Holidays
I had visions of decorating Brynn for a nice Christmas card, but as you can see, she had her own ideas of what to do with the Christmas decorations. I was asked what I got for Christmas and while I didn't actually open anything on Christmas day, I had plenty to be thankful for. This year Santa brought me a new house, a new car, some new camera gear, a new dog and so many other things that I felt like the 9 year old who wished for a pony and actually got it. I think for me Christmas turned into thanksgiving as I looked back and realized how much I've been blessed this year. So many of my friends and their families have faced real tragedy recently; divorce, loss, getting fired and cancer impacted their lives and just the gift of my health and the people I love is enough to send me into a stilled gratefulness for what this year has been. This year I hope to live in the awareness of how blessed I am, even as I walk through minor inconveniences, like the rich, rank odor that emits from my farting puppy. I'm going to write a song... smelly dog, smelly dog... what am I feeding you? Seriously, I think I threw up in my mouth a little...
Posted at 01:42 PM
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