In my life, I love you more

At the times we need Him most, our belief in God is often challenged. Even if we do falter a little in our faith, he does not waver in us. Even if we get angry with Him, the fact that we recognize Someone to get angry at makes all the difference in the world. He’s still with us even when we say we don’t want Him.

In November, God took two souls with Him that I know of. Of the two that he took, I only knew one of them personally, but I do know that Heaven has been blessed with two of the brightest souls on Earth.

Even though he’s new there, I hope my grandpa is showing Aiyana around Heaven and maybe cooking her some barbeque.

The friends and families of both will miss them terribly, but we’ll forever have our thoughts and memories to keep us company. And in that, Louis and Aiyana will be with us forever.

Look out there's a sign post up ahead!

“There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone.”

God those words are so good. I love, love, love the Twilight Zone. It’s sort of a guilty pleasure of mine. A couple years ago I was really into it, much more so then I am now. I still love it, but I don’t go out of my way to watch it like I used to. But, if it’s on, I’ll always flip to it.

It’s still so…intriguing. I think that’s the best word. The stories are still great. While it is at times dated, that only adds to the flavor of it. It aged like a fine wine, becoming a source of entertainment not only in the actual narrative of the episode, but also as something of a cultural study.

That show was made from 1959-1964, at a time when the future seemed just around the corner. I love the curiousity that show displayed. I love to discover things and when I get it in my head to learn something, I learn it. I can tell you the back story behind just about every Beatles song. I can tell you if it was released as a single, what album it came on (and probably what track number it is on that album), what song comes before it and after it, etc.

But while I love to find out about all the Beatles records, I’m always somewhat disappointed because it loses some of the meaning that it held for me. “I Am the Walrus” is just John saying a bunch of random words, not some deep song that I had always thought it to be. John said that he was disappointed with the way that “Strawberry Fields Forever,” one of my all time favorite songs, turned out when I think it’s just perfect.

I guess what I’m trying to get at is I love the mindset that they had “back then.” I wish I didn’t know everything about the Beatles because it deadens the imagination. If you know everything about a particular subject, you no longer have to fill in the holes with your brain. I don’t particularly enjoy hearing a teacher tell me how to do something because I much prefer to do it my own way.

I think I’m getting off track again, so let me get back on subject. In 1959 the world was a wonderous place full of new discoveries waiting to be found and explored. But, now that we’ve explored everything and discovered most of life’s great secrets, what else is there? Are we any better off knowing that Mars is millions and millions of miles away and that it can never support life? While I know this, I always like to think that maybe there was an epic battle on Mars and billions of people were killed and all the sand was stained red. I don’t know why Mars’s sand is red but I can find out with a quick little Google search. And while I hate not knowing, part of me loves it. So I think I’ll stick with my Martian civil war. It’s not logical in the least and all of my atoms are screaming out for me to research it. But, my version is much more fun then anything that science could tell me at this point. And, frankly, fun tastes much better then knowledge sometimes.

What I'm listening to: Plans, Transatlanticism - Death Cab for Cutie

Norma Jeane Mortenson

I must admit to something. I have an…obsession is the wrong word. Fascination. I have a fascination with Marilyn Monroe.

Not because of her beauty, although that does play a role. Everyone knew how beautiful she was and she really was. Amazing to think that almost fifty years after she passed, and she still ranks up their as one of the most beautiful women ever.

I think the reason I love her so much is…pity isn’t the right word. Maybe sympathy. I’m not sure. Sympathy + sadness. I feel sympathysadness for her.

This is all speculation of course, and it’s entirely possible I’m entirely wrong, but I think that Marilyn Monroe was putting on a great big act for all of us because she a.) wanted to be famous and knew that that was the only way how, and/or b.) she much preferred her “act” as Marilyn Monroe to her normal Norma Jeane.

Bah I’m probably not explaining myself very well here. I think that Marilyn Monroe was very aware of her sexuality and exploited people—especially men’s—love for her to get what she wanted: fame. But I think that later on in her life, she realized that this may not have been the path that she truly wanted. I think that later in her life she wanted to just be Norma Jeane.

But she couldn’t because she would probably be hated by everybody and because she knew there really was no going back.

I think Marilyn Monroe was just putting on an act for us all because she knew that it would make her succeed in life. But, unfortunately, there was no end to her act. She could never revert back to Norma Jeane because no good would ever come of it in terms of success.

And I just think that’s so sad. That no one ever knew Norma Jeane. Or, rather none of us, the masses, ever knew her. And that’s just incredibly sad to me.

I’m sure I’m all over the place and you, the reader, are probably very confused, so allow me to summarize. I think that Marilyn Monroe put on the act of the dumb blonde and put on the act of sexuality because it would make her popular and help her succeed. And I also think that she regretted it later. Maybe fame wasn’t what she thought it was, or maybe as Marilyn, she never found what every girl (everybody really) wants: true love and all that jazz.

If you don’t believe me here’s a quote by her: “I knew I belonged to the public and to the world, not because I was talented or even beautiful, but because I had never belonged to anything or anyone else.”

Understand now?

If you’re still skeptical, here’s another quote from her: “I have too many fantasies to be a housewife. I guess I am a fantasy.”

How about now?

And, I’m not the only one who’s come to this realization. Look at the lyrics for "Candle in the Wind" by Elton John.

“Goodbye Norma Jean
From the young man in the 22nd row
Who sees you as something more than sexual
More than just our Marilyn Monroe”



What I’m listening to: The new remastered Beatles CDs. They’re 23948324583 times better then the originals! What are you waiting for, get them now!!

Love, Peace, Joy

I should have posted this awhile ago, but it’s no matter.

The overall title of my blog is “It’s All Too Much.” As someone could have surmised, that’s a Beatles tune. It’s not one of their more famous ones; it’s pretty obscure. You can find it on the Yellow Submarine Songtrack that came out in ’99.

It’s a Harrison composition and I truly think it exemplifies all that was the Beatles in about 6 and ½ minutes. The actual music of it is psychedelic I s’pose, but it’s a good combination of rock and psychedelic, with some horns thrown in for kicks. The lyrics convey a variety of things. Again, psychedelic, but there are love song elements in it as well. And the song is just fun and you can tell that the Beatles had a great time making it. At the end they’re repeating “too much” over and over, and at times I’m positive they’re saying “tuba” simply because they thought it was funny. This song represents everything the Beatles were musically: love song extraordinaire-s, psychedelic pioneers, but most importantly, this song (like all of theirs to me) goes straight to your soul and you love it in ways that you can’t explain. You can’t explain it because it affects you on a whole different level, on a plane of existence that we can’t describe because it’s undiscovered.

I think if I wanted to really get esoteric on you, I could say that this song represents the ‘60s and how we view it now. Because if you listen to it, the song is utter chaos—but it works. Just like the ‘60s.

But enough rambling. The lyrics and the song:

[All too much!]

It's all too much
It's all too much

When I look into your eyes, your love is there for me
And the more I go inside, the more there is to see

It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around you
Everywhere, it's what you make
For us to take, it's all too much

Floating down the stream of time from life to life with me
Makes no difference where you are or where you'd like to be

It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around here
All the world is birthday cake
So take a piece but not too much

Sail me on a silver sun, where I know that I'm free
Show me that I'm everywhere, and get me home for tea

It's all too much for me to see
The love that's shining all around here
The more I learn, the less I know
But what I do is all too much

It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around you
Everywhere, it's what you make
For us to take, it's all too much

It's too much
Ah, it's too much

With your long blond hair and your eyes of blue
With your long blond hair and your eyes of blue

You're too much, ah
We all get too much

Too much, too much, too much
Too much a, too much a, too much a
Too much a, too much a, too much a
Too much a, too much a, too much a
Too much a, too much a, too much a
Too much a, too much a, too much a
Too much a, too much a, too much a
Too much a, too much a, too much a
Too much a

Much, much, much, much, much
Much, much, much, much, much
Much, much, much, much, much
Much, much, much, much, much
Much, much, much, much, much

Song:

To Be Or Not To Be?

Why is it considered insane to talk to yourself? I rather enjoy the company that I provide. I think we judge too harshly those who take pleasure in (I feel the need for honesty—I was going to put enjoy instead of take pleasure in, but since I had already used that in the last sentence I used the MWord thesaurus and it provided take pleasure in, so it’s not my creation. I felt the need to say that, for reasons unknown to me.) a chat with themselves. I personally talk to myself quite often especially when I’m alone.

Often times when I’m alone I’ll make weird noises and giggle to myself at my own little joke. I think its fun and I think you should give it a try. Yes, you, the reader of this who shuns a pleasant one-on-one conversation with yourself. Forget about what society deems appropriate and inappropriate! Rise up and say to yourself, “I will talk to me and not feel weird about it!!”

Who’s to stop you?! No one but yourself, and that’s exactly who needs to be talked to. In fact, for your first in-depth conversation with yourself why not discuss this? I think this is a noteworthy topic to debate with you. Discuss and debate to your heart’s content about why you should—or should not—talk to yourself. You’ll be fascinated by the results, I assure you.

In fact, I’m often very surprised at the conclusions I draw when I talk to me. I’ll find that I hold a certain opinion about someone or something that I didn’t think I felt; that the answer to a math problem is actually very simple once I say it aloud; that perhaps I need to cut back on the Coke (uh-Cola) because it’s making me very hyper and wanting to talk to myself more and more.

Although I’ve intended this blog to be taken facetiously, I will say one thing somewhat serious. I’ve had many conversations with myself that have gone a million different ways about a million different topics, but one thing that occurs much more often then one would think is that I constantly surprise myself. Not amaze—surprise. And I think that’s something a lot of people lose as they get older. The sense of never knowing what’s going to happen is often subdued and I think that’s unfortunate. I like the idea that I don’t know what’s going to happen. It’s often times terrifying, but many more times reassuring. Life is full of surprises and that does not exclude surprising myself—with me.

What I’m listening to: Band on the Run – Paul McCartney & Wings, Here Today – Paul McCartney (this was Paul’s tribute to John after he was murdered and it is truly beautiful)

Blowing Crap Up Sure Is Fun

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

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)

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.