For the past two years I have left my lovely home on the west coast and flown roughly 1700 miles to Topeka, Kansas where I spend some time there.
I flew out two years ago, on my own, for two weeks and I spent time with my family here (I’m writing this in Kansas).
Last year I flew out solo and was alone for a week and five days, then my mom joined me for a week, and we left together.
This year I flew out alone and my mom will join me after a week, we’ll stay for a week, and leave together. I’ve been here for four days now (actually, its half past midnight so five days now).
I’ve visited here before, but I count the past two visits, and this one, as particularly significant because I don’t really remember the other times, as I was too young. The biggest thing I remember from my young days here is one of the reasons why I enjoy being in Kansas so much—the fireworks.
In California, because it’s so dry, the fireworks are fountains basically. But in the Midwest, you’ve got wet summers, meaning you’ve got better fireworks. Firecrackers and other such goodies are allowed! And Missouri is about an hour’s drive from Topeka, and they’ve got bottle rockets and stuff like that.
I’ve always visited Kansas around the Fourth of July because it makes Kansas much more exciting. I have family here, so I like to visit them, but after a few days, it starts to lose its flair. Without fireworks this place would be dull for someone who doesn’t live here and can’t drive.
I don’t know where at the point in human evolution hearing a firecracker became fun. Or, if you don’t believe in evolution, why God would make a human love hearing that tiny little pop.
What I do know is that I get a huge satisfaction every time that wick goes down, ignites the gunpowder (yes, I know it’s probably not gunpowder) and it explodes. I’ve heard tens of thousands of those mini-explosions in my lifetime, maybe hundreds of thousands, and I still get a little glee out of it.
Every year I think I might lose interest, or I think I have lost interest, but then I get here, light one of those bad boys, and my heart soars.
Even as a child I liked this. And, as I near adulthood, I’m no different.
One of my cousins, who is twenty-one, on the other hand, does not find much fun in fireworks. She began losing interest a few years back. I just can’t understand that.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that being a child never gets old. Maybe that’s why Michael Jackson tried so hard to be a child. Or maybe he never got to be a child and always wanted to be one. I don’t know.
What I do know (I realized I’ve said that twice) is that tomorrow I’m going to light probably a thousand firecrackers and with each one I’m going to feel this childlike sense of joy each time one explodes. And with that excitement will come a pang of sadness because I know that most things have lost that childlike glee and how unfortunate that is.
Even though it’s a cliché, I feel the need to repeat it. When we’re young we always want to be older and when we’re older we always want to be young. But I don’t want to be young again really. The only thing I miss about being a child is finding unbridled joy in the most minuscule of things. And perhaps that’s what a firecracker is for me.
What I’m listening to: Gentle on My Mind – Glen Campbell
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Otis Redding Would Be Proud
I spent Sunday, June 21, 2009, doing absolutely nothing. Nothing really productive at all. I went grocery shopping with my mom early in the morning, but past that, I did nothing, and what a fantastic day it was.
I’m a teenager on summer break, so doing nothing is familiar territory to me. But, I hadn’t really done nothing while doing something.
Allow me to explain. June 21 was Father’s Day (I’m saying this so that people in the future who are reading this will know the circumstances), and my grandmother called because she was having some get together and wanted my mother and me to come. Neither of us wanted to go, and I texted my cousin to see if she was going. She said that she was meeting her parents, my aunt and uncle, who were at an RV camp at this place called Rio Vista which is like 40 minutes away and is right by a river and such and she invited me along.
My cousin is about six years older then me, and I like spending time with her; we have a lot of things in common. So, she picks me up and off we go.
Forty minutes later we arrive at this RV camp and it’s a pretty nice place; it’s got a mini golf thingy and a pool (despite the fact that there’s a river about 500 feet away).
We get to this place at about 1:15. There’s me, my cousin, my aunt and uncle, and my aunt’s sister, whom I’m meeting for the first time (she lives in VA). This particular aunt married into the family and so in some way I’m related to her sister. Her sister is about mid-forty’s to fifty, and my aunt is in the same age range, obviously same with my uncle.
So we get there, and all of us are sort of talking but after about twenty, thirty minutes, we’re just sitting and relaxing. Shooting the breeze. This is bliss.
We start up a game of Yahtzee, and we play a few games of that. It was me, my cousin, and my aunt playing against each other. It was so much fun because we were playing competitively but not overtly so. And we’re just joking and having a good time.
After Yahtzee gets old I suggest cards, and my uncle retorts with dominoes which I’ve never played, so I thought what the hell.
So we (me, my cousin, and my uncle) play dominoes for awhile, maybe an hour. I ended up losing by ten point’s total, which normally would have pissed me off, but it barely affected me. Sunday just wasn’t a day to be mad at anything.
A few minutes into the game of dominoes we hear some sirens like they’re driving on the road, and then they’re gone, and we all figured that they had just driven by.
Well, my aunt points out that she sees a fire truck on the road about ten minutes after we hear the sirens. We’re in the way back of the RV camp, as far back as it goes. We’re about 750 feet from the road, but there are a bunch of trees blocking our view. This doesn’t really affect us, and we consider walking over there and quenching our curiosity (good phrase eh?) but the game of dominoes is too riveting to ignore.
So about half way through the game, we hear the familiar sound of a helicopter, and it sounds awfully lower then one you would normally hear.
We look up and see that it’s one of those medical helicopters. Not a good sign for whoever needs it. If you need one of those helicopters, your ass is probably f’ed up. This helicopter actually lands on the road (the road is right next to the river).
My uncle and I decide that this is too much excitement to ignore and we need to go check it out. My cousin decides to stay behind.
As someone who is a big plane/helicopter nerd, I’m pretty excited about this. I’ve flown on an airplane plenty of times, but I’ve never had the pleasure of even seeing a helicopter unless it’s flying in the air.
We sauntered (good word eh? I’m on fire!) over to the road where there were a lot of people who were looking at the accident. I won’t go into details about what happened to the guy, but he’ll be okay from what we heard (my uncle asked a sheriff and he told us what happened, but said he’ll probably be okay).
And this might sound morbid, but it kind of fit the mood. It was just the sort of thing you’d do on a day like that; watch an accident.
After that we went back to the game of dominoes, I lost, and then we just relaxed. We had a cord where you could attach your iPod hooked up to the radio and so I was blasting my tunes. I played the Beatles for awhile, but not everyone is the fanatic like I am, so I flipped around before eventually settling on some Rolling Stones which is fantastic music for sitting in an RV park and relaxing to.
My uncle cooked some burgers on the grill and they were great. Very juicy. Life was just good that day. Not a care in the world, laughing with family, enjoying being lazy. I reiterate my phrase at the top of this blog—I did nothing while doing something, and that was…glorious.
What I’m listening to: Pet Sounds – The Beach Boys (specifically: Wouldn’t It Be Nice, Don’t Talk (Head On My Shoulder), Let’s Go Away for Awhile, and God Only Knows)
I’m a teenager on summer break, so doing nothing is familiar territory to me. But, I hadn’t really done nothing while doing something.
Allow me to explain. June 21 was Father’s Day (I’m saying this so that people in the future who are reading this will know the circumstances), and my grandmother called because she was having some get together and wanted my mother and me to come. Neither of us wanted to go, and I texted my cousin to see if she was going. She said that she was meeting her parents, my aunt and uncle, who were at an RV camp at this place called Rio Vista which is like 40 minutes away and is right by a river and such and she invited me along.
My cousin is about six years older then me, and I like spending time with her; we have a lot of things in common. So, she picks me up and off we go.
Forty minutes later we arrive at this RV camp and it’s a pretty nice place; it’s got a mini golf thingy and a pool (despite the fact that there’s a river about 500 feet away).
We get to this place at about 1:15. There’s me, my cousin, my aunt and uncle, and my aunt’s sister, whom I’m meeting for the first time (she lives in VA). This particular aunt married into the family and so in some way I’m related to her sister. Her sister is about mid-forty’s to fifty, and my aunt is in the same age range, obviously same with my uncle.
So we get there, and all of us are sort of talking but after about twenty, thirty minutes, we’re just sitting and relaxing. Shooting the breeze. This is bliss.
We start up a game of Yahtzee, and we play a few games of that. It was me, my cousin, and my aunt playing against each other. It was so much fun because we were playing competitively but not overtly so. And we’re just joking and having a good time.
After Yahtzee gets old I suggest cards, and my uncle retorts with dominoes which I’ve never played, so I thought what the hell.
So we (me, my cousin, and my uncle) play dominoes for awhile, maybe an hour. I ended up losing by ten point’s total, which normally would have pissed me off, but it barely affected me. Sunday just wasn’t a day to be mad at anything.
A few minutes into the game of dominoes we hear some sirens like they’re driving on the road, and then they’re gone, and we all figured that they had just driven by.
Well, my aunt points out that she sees a fire truck on the road about ten minutes after we hear the sirens. We’re in the way back of the RV camp, as far back as it goes. We’re about 750 feet from the road, but there are a bunch of trees blocking our view. This doesn’t really affect us, and we consider walking over there and quenching our curiosity (good phrase eh?) but the game of dominoes is too riveting to ignore.
So about half way through the game, we hear the familiar sound of a helicopter, and it sounds awfully lower then one you would normally hear.
We look up and see that it’s one of those medical helicopters. Not a good sign for whoever needs it. If you need one of those helicopters, your ass is probably f’ed up. This helicopter actually lands on the road (the road is right next to the river).
My uncle and I decide that this is too much excitement to ignore and we need to go check it out. My cousin decides to stay behind.
As someone who is a big plane/helicopter nerd, I’m pretty excited about this. I’ve flown on an airplane plenty of times, but I’ve never had the pleasure of even seeing a helicopter unless it’s flying in the air.
We sauntered (good word eh? I’m on fire!) over to the road where there were a lot of people who were looking at the accident. I won’t go into details about what happened to the guy, but he’ll be okay from what we heard (my uncle asked a sheriff and he told us what happened, but said he’ll probably be okay).
And this might sound morbid, but it kind of fit the mood. It was just the sort of thing you’d do on a day like that; watch an accident.
After that we went back to the game of dominoes, I lost, and then we just relaxed. We had a cord where you could attach your iPod hooked up to the radio and so I was blasting my tunes. I played the Beatles for awhile, but not everyone is the fanatic like I am, so I flipped around before eventually settling on some Rolling Stones which is fantastic music for sitting in an RV park and relaxing to.
My uncle cooked some burgers on the grill and they were great. Very juicy. Life was just good that day. Not a care in the world, laughing with family, enjoying being lazy. I reiterate my phrase at the top of this blog—I did nothing while doing something, and that was…glorious.
What I’m listening to: Pet Sounds – The Beach Boys (specifically: Wouldn’t It Be Nice, Don’t Talk (Head On My Shoulder), Let’s Go Away for Awhile, and God Only Knows)
Friday, June 19, 2009
A Christmas Miracle
I’m not entirely sure what to say to start off. But isn’t that what everyone says when they start writing a blog? I’m not sure what to say blah blah blah. And they always want to describe themselves. But, they only say the good things about themselves: “I’m a sassy woman full of pep!” Or “I’m a guy that likes intelligent conversation and to drink a beer.” What a load of crap.
I’m sounding awfully cynical aren’t I? I apologize. I’m not really cynical. I’m actually a great guy that loves romantic walks on the beach. ;)
Hardy har har. Anyway, back to my first sentence: I’m not sure how to start off and I don’t want to describe myself. I guess I’ll start with my interests.
First and foremost is music. A lot of people say music is their lives, and I’m one of them. Most people, especially people in my age group, would say “those other people are full of crap; they don’t understand music like I do.” But it’s not for me to say whether people are telling the truth or not. I really revolve my life around music.
Brian Wilson, one of the founding members of the Beach Boys, and the man who produced most of their records and wrote most of their songs (he was really the creative man in the group, the others just sang), says that “music is the voice of God.” That statement rings so true with me.
I love all kinds of music. Variety is the spice of life. I’ve got just about every genre on my iPod. What really, really pisses me off is when people say “rap is crap.” I get so mad when I hear that. Music affects everyone differently; it’s not for you to say that one genre is better then the other. It’s all about personal taste. If you don’t like rap then don’t listen to it. But I don’t need to hear you talk bad about it.
The greatest band of all time is the Beatles. Pure and simple. Nothing in the world has influenced me like the Beatles have. I haven’t found a single song of theirs that I don’t like. Pretty good considering they did over 200 of them (I believe 194 are original). If you add up all the Beatles songs together I think you get roughly 12-13 hours of material. How strange to think that only 12-13 hours of music can change someone’s life so drastically, like it has mine and millions of others.
I first got into them about a year and a half ago. Around Christmas of ’06. I’d really wanted to listen to them because I’d heard so many good things about them. I may have downloaded a couple of their tunes, but I wasn’t blown away. I did like some of them though. I remember liking "Yellow Submarine," "Eleanor Rigby," and not liking "Yesterday" (which I’ve since come to love). I still had this idea of them as a boy band though because their most famous song is probably "I Want to Hold Your Hand."
So I mention that I want to listen to some of their songs to my neighbor, Nanci (who also influenced me to start writing this blog). She was (still is) dating this cat (the old ‘70s term for guy, not a feline) named Randy who was (still is) something of a musicologist and had all their albums and really loved them and so on. I should mention that I’d met this dude once or twice before and thought he was very cool.
Anyway, on Christmas Eve, Nanci has a little shin-dig at her casa and my mother and I attend. There are present openings and such, and it’s all great fun (except for an incident with my brother that I won’t go into now).
So a week or two after Christmas, Nanci says that she had found a present under the tree at her house that I was meant to open on Christmas Eve, but it had gotten misplaced. So she gives it to me, and I open it and it’s a burnt copy of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band by the Beatles that Randy had burnt for me. I thanked Nanci profusely and went straight back to my domicile and inserted the disk into my computer and copied to my iPod.
I don’t remember my initial opinion of the first time I listened to it, but I do remember the first time I realized the Beatles were the geniuses that everyone said they were. I was walking around—something I do quite often—and I was playing Sgt. Pepper and I remember listening to A Day in the Life (the closing track on Sgt. Pepper) over and over. I was just blown away by it. It was mind-blowing without the use of any sort of narcotics.
I asked Nanci if she’d ask Randy to burn me more Beatles CDs. He was more then happy to oblige, and I was absolutely hooked. On my iPod, I’ve got just about everything they put out during their 8 year run, except for a few songs that I haven’t acquired.
It’s amazing to think how much they produced in such a short span of time. 200 songs in 8 years. They had one album a year from 1966 onwards and several albums a year from 1963 to 1965. And they were touring like crazy from basically 1960 to 1966! And most of their stuff was original. Most bands nowadays (and even back then) release an album, tour for a year and a half to promote it, and then set about making their next record. Most bands have a new record every two or three years. The Beatles toured, wrote songs, recorded them, toured some more, made a movie, recorded more songs, and so on and so forth. And when they released singles, they weren’t from their albums. Almost all of their singles weren’t put onto an album.
But enough gushing about the Beatles. I’ve over indulged myself with this blog. If you’re still reading this then kudos to you! I would have stopped six paragraphs ago. I hope this blog is the start of millions more to come. We’ll see. Until then, adios.
What I’m listening to: Mad World – Gary Jules
I think I’ll put a song or album that I’m really digging at the end of every blog. Just in case you, the reader, are itching for a good song or album.
I’m sounding awfully cynical aren’t I? I apologize. I’m not really cynical. I’m actually a great guy that loves romantic walks on the beach. ;)
Hardy har har. Anyway, back to my first sentence: I’m not sure how to start off and I don’t want to describe myself. I guess I’ll start with my interests.
First and foremost is music. A lot of people say music is their lives, and I’m one of them. Most people, especially people in my age group, would say “those other people are full of crap; they don’t understand music like I do.” But it’s not for me to say whether people are telling the truth or not. I really revolve my life around music.
Brian Wilson, one of the founding members of the Beach Boys, and the man who produced most of their records and wrote most of their songs (he was really the creative man in the group, the others just sang), says that “music is the voice of God.” That statement rings so true with me.
I love all kinds of music. Variety is the spice of life. I’ve got just about every genre on my iPod. What really, really pisses me off is when people say “rap is crap.” I get so mad when I hear that. Music affects everyone differently; it’s not for you to say that one genre is better then the other. It’s all about personal taste. If you don’t like rap then don’t listen to it. But I don’t need to hear you talk bad about it.
The greatest band of all time is the Beatles. Pure and simple. Nothing in the world has influenced me like the Beatles have. I haven’t found a single song of theirs that I don’t like. Pretty good considering they did over 200 of them (I believe 194 are original). If you add up all the Beatles songs together I think you get roughly 12-13 hours of material. How strange to think that only 12-13 hours of music can change someone’s life so drastically, like it has mine and millions of others.
I first got into them about a year and a half ago. Around Christmas of ’06. I’d really wanted to listen to them because I’d heard so many good things about them. I may have downloaded a couple of their tunes, but I wasn’t blown away. I did like some of them though. I remember liking "Yellow Submarine," "Eleanor Rigby," and not liking "Yesterday" (which I’ve since come to love). I still had this idea of them as a boy band though because their most famous song is probably "I Want to Hold Your Hand."
So I mention that I want to listen to some of their songs to my neighbor, Nanci (who also influenced me to start writing this blog). She was (still is) dating this cat (the old ‘70s term for guy, not a feline) named Randy who was (still is) something of a musicologist and had all their albums and really loved them and so on. I should mention that I’d met this dude once or twice before and thought he was very cool.
Anyway, on Christmas Eve, Nanci has a little shin-dig at her casa and my mother and I attend. There are present openings and such, and it’s all great fun (except for an incident with my brother that I won’t go into now).
So a week or two after Christmas, Nanci says that she had found a present under the tree at her house that I was meant to open on Christmas Eve, but it had gotten misplaced. So she gives it to me, and I open it and it’s a burnt copy of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band by the Beatles that Randy had burnt for me. I thanked Nanci profusely and went straight back to my domicile and inserted the disk into my computer and copied to my iPod.
I don’t remember my initial opinion of the first time I listened to it, but I do remember the first time I realized the Beatles were the geniuses that everyone said they were. I was walking around—something I do quite often—and I was playing Sgt. Pepper and I remember listening to A Day in the Life (the closing track on Sgt. Pepper) over and over. I was just blown away by it. It was mind-blowing without the use of any sort of narcotics.
I asked Nanci if she’d ask Randy to burn me more Beatles CDs. He was more then happy to oblige, and I was absolutely hooked. On my iPod, I’ve got just about everything they put out during their 8 year run, except for a few songs that I haven’t acquired.
It’s amazing to think how much they produced in such a short span of time. 200 songs in 8 years. They had one album a year from 1966 onwards and several albums a year from 1963 to 1965. And they were touring like crazy from basically 1960 to 1966! And most of their stuff was original. Most bands nowadays (and even back then) release an album, tour for a year and a half to promote it, and then set about making their next record. Most bands have a new record every two or three years. The Beatles toured, wrote songs, recorded them, toured some more, made a movie, recorded more songs, and so on and so forth. And when they released singles, they weren’t from their albums. Almost all of their singles weren’t put onto an album.
But enough gushing about the Beatles. I’ve over indulged myself with this blog. If you’re still reading this then kudos to you! I would have stopped six paragraphs ago. I hope this blog is the start of millions more to come. We’ll see. Until then, adios.
What I’m listening to: Mad World – Gary Jules
I think I’ll put a song or album that I’m really digging at the end of every blog. Just in case you, the reader, are itching for a good song or album.
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