Wow!!! Is 2006 already almost over?! It seems like it was just yesterday when I was saying goodbye to 2005. 2006 flew by, every year it seems like the days are shorter and the weeks are gone in a flash.
I look back at 2006 and realize it was a year of change for Andrea, the kids and me.
I was promoted from an assistant store manager in our Union Square flagship store to a store manager in Capitola. This ended an amazing one-year run for me in San Francisco. I love that store!
We moved from San Ramon 40 mile south to San Jose.
Soraya and Brandon began classes in a new school...a very competitive new school.
Andrea opened officially her own business (check out the Dreams & Jewelry link on my Places To Waste Your Time section.)
Soraya joined a new soccer team, after four years on one team. Brandon hops from team to team, so this was his third different team and set of coaches.
Brandon got braces.
Soraya received the book on sex...I think that was the biggest trauma of 2006 for Andrea and yours truly.
The kids are growing older, as am I. It was a challenging year, but what year isn't. And isn't it the challenge that makes it all worth it? Tomorrow I'll post my 2007 resolutions, but for today, I would like to reminisce about the events of 2006 and how we all got where we are.
Click on this Calvin And Hobbes to enlarge this last C&H and I hope it fills you with the thoughts of possibility...
Happy New Years!!! I hope it is a safe one and that 2007 brings you joy!
I like to read the daily comics. It all started with at my parents' house. When I was a child they subscribed to three of the local rags, The Oakland Tribune, The San Francisco Chronicle and The Contra Costa Times. As a little kid I would forgo the front section with all the "boring" news, the sports pages had no value to me, but the comic...that was where it was at.
As the years crept ahead, I found myself expanding my interests beyond the comics section. First came the sports section, then the front section and on it went. But the comics was always one of the first places I went, even as an adult. There was a certain familiarity to the comics. And if the comic was particularly well done, it even became alive with distinct personalities.
But along with time, like in real life, comics come and go. Artists, and that is what they are when they are really good, are real people and will retire. The first of my 2-D friends to go was a comic called Bloom County. This was a biting, satirical look at life in the 80's. It's creator was Berke Breathed.
Although many people thought that Opus the penguin was the center of Bloom, the actual original protagonist was Milo Bloom. The little blonde boy with glasses. Possibly the most grounded and wordly of the bunch.
This comic faded away in 1989. Breathed tried a couple of spin offs, Outland and Opus. Opus still appears in the Sunday Chronicle. However neither has the affect on me that the original had.
Calvin And Hobbes was the next comic to bite the dust. This strip was created in 1985 by Bill Watterson and ran until 1995. A little boy and his very real friend Hobbes the tiger. Yes, yes, one could argue that all Hobbes was was a stuffed animal that came to life in the eyes of Calvin. But if you have ever been around kids, you know how real the imagination can be.
Watterson treated the craft of creating comics with great respect. He saw that, at its best, comic strip creation was an art form. He never allowed C&H to be licensed for anything other than compelation books of his work. Watterson felt that stuffed replicants of Calvin and Hobbes, or mugs of the strip would only cheapen his work. So all those stickers on cars you see of Calvin peeing on "name the item"? They're illegal copies.
Watterson shut down Calvin And Hobbes December 31, 1995. My two pals riding down a snowy hill on a sled into the sunset. Some of my favorite words about life are the last words of Calvin, "It's a magical world, Hobbes ol' buddy...let's go exploring!"
Sadly, December 31, 2006 will signal the end to another comic I read frequently, Foxtrot. Although it has not quite held the affection that Calvin And Hobbes or Bloom County did, Foxtrot still was able to find its way into my heart. It will appear in the Sunday editions, but Foxtrot will no longer enliven the dailies.
I realize that these are fictional characters, so stop calling the nut house on your pal Neil! I guess it's the familiarity that I miss. As one by one my favorite comics retire, each one marks the passage of time. Markers of periods in my life, good memories. Change is good, but familiarity is good as well.
Wow...it's almost over, the Holiday season. 24-hours of The Christmas Story is over. I won't be seeing Ralphie pining away for a Red Rider BB gun for another year. Say goodbye until next year to the Christmas Log burning away for the entire Christmas day on the local television station.
Although I am tired, I always greet this time of year with much sadness. I have said all along that I love this time of year. I do. I love the hustle and bustle of the Holidays. It is stressful, but there is an excitement in the air. There is something that brings back warm memories from years past that always brings a smile to my face. This year was no different.
I saw my extended family yesterday and it was awesome. Carol made a rare appearance, coming home all the way from Oklahoma City. That was wonderful, especially for my parents. The kids were in Heaven as gift after gift was given their way.
Today marks the start of the end of the holiday season. The store's decorations will disappear. All those shiny presents to be bought will now be marked down or sent away until next year. The customers change their attitudes from a giving mentality, to attitudes of self interest. This is my return and I want my money! The stores sparkle less and the magic disappears.
I am also sad that Soraya and Brandon will be leaving us for a few days to visit their father in Las Vegas. This is always hard for Andrea. They are great kids and the house definitely becomes empty and quiet when they are gone. Thank goodness it's only a few days.
Goodbye Christmas it was awesome while it lasted...
Merry Christmas everyone!...no, no politically correct "Happy Holidays!", it's Christmas today, so Merry Christmas!!!
Yesterday was a Yuletide-filled experience. After the kids opened their presents (There is a reason behind it, but we won't go into it...) we had a Christmas favorite for lunch, udon. You know, those slippery noodles in a salty brown soup. Yum...
As the kids (and Andrea) played Legos Star Wars 2 I settled in to watch that time honored holiday The Spy Who Loved Me. After that it was followed up with Die Another Day. Oh yeah, Christmas and James Bond!
But I was able to sneak in a showing of How The Grinch Stole Christmas! Not the Jim Carrey live action deal, but the cartoon version from 1966. And in honor of that fabulous Christmas special, here is a short list of did you knows:
Chuck Jones directed and was the character designer for Grinch. Jones also did the same for Warner Bros. Looney Tunes. So if it looks a little Bugs Bunny-ish...
Boris Karloff was both the narrator and the voice of the Grinch. Initially Dr. Suess did not want Karloff on the project as he thought Karloff would be too scary.
Although there are no songs in the book version of Grinch, all the lyrics for the songs in the television special were written by Dr. Seuss.
Thurl Ravenscroft sang You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch. Who is Thurl Ravenscroft? He was also the voice for Tony the Tiger.
The lyrics for the Whoville song Fahoo Forays were made to immitate classical Latin.
Oh, by the way, it's Monday morning...weigh in time...3.5 pounds have been shed from my frame...yippee!!! Slowly cracking away at that bulk!!!
Welcome, Christmas, bring your cheer. Cheer to all Whos far and near. Christmas Day is in our grasp so long as we have hands to clasp. Christmas Day will always be, just as long as we have we. Welcome Christmas as we stand, heart to heart and hand in hand.
Wow...here it is 8 a.m. and it is quiet in the house. I'm the only one up. Amazingly, I gave myself Christmas eve off. I wanted to spend a whole day with the Andrea and the kids, without thinking about work, or driving to my parents house. (I love visiting with my parents, my sisters and our extending family, but this is nice for our little family...)
Every year it seems like the Holiday season goes by faster and faster. I try to find the time to give the spirit to my family and friends, but it seems harder every passing year. Maybe my life is like a roll of toilet paper, the further along I go, the faster it runs out. No, not that the corporate life makes me wipe someone else's buttocks!...
One thing I do know, is that it's the recovery time that aging is about. My dogs are still barking from yesterday. My left ankle has a dull ache that who knows what it's from. I wake up like I have a small hangover.
Yet I do smile. I do love Christmas. I walked around my store yesterday wishing people Merry Christmas (sometimes Happy Holidays, but hey, tis two days before Christmas!), giving hugs, serving pizza (yeah, we fed our staff a traditional holiday treat!) and shaking hands.
To steal the phrase, "It is a wonderful life..."
*Note - The wonderful illustration (Ya gotta click on it to get the humor!) came from www.pascalcampion.com. Check my links section.
I have never understood the general expectation of giving Christmas gifts at work. I get it when you truly are appreciative of your coworker, subordinates or boss, but I feel like gift giving has become an expectation. That if one does not give a gift, it's professionally bad.
What is worse is when there is a monetary expectation attached to gift giving. I remember one incident where a staff member stated that what we were giving would disappoint our then boss and that we needed to give more. What the Hell?!!! What happened to, "It's the thought that counts..."?
When I first started my current assignment, within a month I announced to my Human Resources manager, that I did not expect, nor want a Christmas gift. I know what retail pays. Trust me, none of us are purely in retail just for the money. I would rather my managers spend their money on their family, friends or themselves.
Unfortunately they did not listen to me.
Now I am very appreciative of my staff's gift. Actually, I am VERY appreciative. They knew that as I have grown older, I have had the regret that I did not speak Japanese. The language of my heritage. So they got me "the in the car" CD lesson, very cool...yeah, it is definitely the thought that counts here!
Sadly, I think the only Japanese phrase that sticks in my head is from Styx. Remember that song from 1983? "Domo ariagato, Mr. Roboto, domo..." Okay, I admit, I purchased Kilroy Was Here and actually went to the subsequent concert.
Hey, it was cool back in the early 80's! Anyhow, is Britney, Lohan or any of the other bimbettes better?! I think not! At least these guys could play their own instruments! Oh yeah, old fart rant!
Anyhow, I am always very humbled about receiving gifts. I do not ever want it to be an expectation. It is exactly what it is, a gift. Thanks guys, I'll try to be a great boss.
The kids really enjoy a particular cartoon called Invader Zim. It's about a little green alien sent to spy on Earth. Unfortunately Zim does not excel in his profession. In this particular clip he is plotting to take over the earth posing as Santa Claus. This is from Invader Zim's "Christmas special" titled The Most Horrible X-mas Ever.
Survived another day. Only six shopping days left before Christmas. I'm still feeling relatively jolly! Customers are growing exponentially grumpier each day. Yet still my team is doing a wonderful job.
I am into good sports films. They do not need to necessarily be dramas such as Hoosiers to get my fancy. Sometimes they can be silly comedies such as Slap Shot or Caddyshack. Both were hilarious movies. But with success in sports films, come the dreaded sequel.
Weighing in at an incredible fifth sequel is Rocky Balboa! Now living at the senior citizens' home spending his days playing bingo, Rocky is given the chance to take on the reigning heavyweight champ, Mason "The Line" Dixon. The tagline is "It ain't over 'til it's over." Please dear Lord, let it be over.
It is amazing to think that the original Rocky won the Academy Award for Best Movie in 1976. I just recently watched Rocky and it is still a great film. It is gritty, dirty and feels like the street. Where did it all go wrong? Although a little silly at times, the best parts of the film are not the fight scenes (Unless you count the opening scene with Spider Rico...very gritty!)
One of my favorite scenes is when Rocky opens his locker at Micky's gym to find cut outs of photos from an Ebony-type magazine. "You put my stuff on skid row? I been in that locker six years; you put my stuff in a bag on skid row?" Love it.
Anyhow, speaking of heavy weights, it's weigh-in time for Project Discovery. Weighing in at a shocking 151 lbs...arggghhh!!! I lost a little momentum there. Granted my weight goes all over the place, however...
Yay!!! I received a package in the mail from my sister, Carol. I was not expecting anything so I opened the box with a good amount of curiosity. After tearing off the tape, I roared with laughter. It was a box of Quisp cereal!
For those of you who are unsure of who Quisp is he was a little pink-ish alien who hawked sugary cereal to we little urchins in the late 60's, early 70's. He wore a cool lime green uniform with a belt that had a pimped out "Q" buckle. On his head he had a propeller grounded into a thatch of black hair. How's that for a description?!
His arch-rival was Quake. He, like Quisp, had his own cereal. They were constantly at odds. We gripe about how the television advertisements are controlling kids minds these days, just take a wander back in time! Quaker Oats had an ad campaign where the children of America could vote to decide who would go, Quisp or Quake.
This was the cooler version of Quake.
What you must remember, this was a time prior to the internet or even "800" phone numbers. Quaker Oats was asking us to pay to vote! And in droves we did! In a short time, we voted that Quake needed to retire in a landslide victory. Curiously, the Q-cereals tasted exactly alike, so if we, the children of America, were voting on taste it was a wash.
So back to December 2006. It was about 5 a.m. and I was hungry. I looked through our cabinets and there, sitting on the shelf, was the unopened box of Quisp Carol had sent me. I could not remember what it tasted like. Although I remembered that it tasted exactly like Quake, I could not recall its flavor. What sugary goodness lay inside the cardboard box in the cupboard? When one needs to leave in a short time, he's hungry and has not showered yet, a little pink alien's cereal looks pretty damn good!
I grabbed a bowl and poured the concave bits of Quisp into it. They clinked softly as they struck the bottom of the bowl. Quickly I filled my bowl midway. I added the milk as it lifted the Quisp, floating in the creamy mix. Licking my lips, I took my first bite.
What the?!!!
Quisp was nothing more than Cap'n Crunch in disguise! All these years of waxing poetic over Quisp and it was nothing more than a marketing scheme! Sadly, I munched away. Tiny bowl shaped pieces of cereal tearing into my gums. Quisp, Quake, the Cap'n...damn that Quaker Oats guy...
I was going to do another post about Rosie O'Donnell's lame apology, but you'll need to go to YouTube yourself to see it. Rather, under much prodding from me, it was time for Andrea to have "the talk" with Soraya. Soraya is in fifth grade and we did not want her to be the only one who thought that the stork brings babies. Thus it was time for Andrea to do her motherly duties and teach Soraya about the facts of life.
Those who know me, know that I have no problem with the subject of sex. I do not think it is dirty, nor naughty...unless it's naughty in a fun way! I believe we make way too much out of sex and sexuality. I think the early American Puritans totally messed us up with their views on sex and priorities.
But, none the less, talking about it with a ten-year-old is not on the top of my fun things to do list. So with that, Andrea, Soraya is your responsibility. I'll take care of Brandon. I just need to learn to clean a shotgun for Soraya's future dates!
We did what we thought was smart and purchased a book about it for Soraya, It's Perfectly Normal. Now, don't let the cartoonish drawings fool you! This book goes into great detail about sex...and very graphically!
After seeing some of the comical yet very realistic illustrations, I thought to myself, "Thank God, Andrea is talking to Soraya about this book!" I would get all tongue tied and eventually it would end up under the "Go ask your mother!" category. Yeah, that's responsible!
Now Andrea being the brave soul, threw it on Soraya's bed and told her, "You need to read this book..." What the?! I could have done that!!! I think Andrea was too embarrassed to have a meaningful discussion with her daughter about the birds and the bees. Thank you Puritans. (Okay, admittedly, I bravely ran away when it came to Soraya and sex!)
Now, let's be clear, if it were up to my parents' wise teachings about sex, my sisters and I probably would think that people get pregnant from kissing. Yeah, I learned about sex the way about 99.9% of kids do, on the street.
I don't want you to think that we took this lightly with Soraya, but geez. Anyhow, I think it's more important to teach Soraya how not to have sex, but if she decides to, how to do it safely. How about that for talking out of both sides of my mouth?!
I have a few years before it's my turn with Brandon. I think I have some reading to do...
...One last thing, when we asked Soraya if she read the book, she stated, "I already know about that stuff..." Yep, one of the 99.9%.
When will these celebrities ever learn? Now add Rosie O'Donnell to the list of idiot celebrities to using inappropriate terms when referring to another ethnicity. And to make it worse, her response was that she was not mocking another ethnicity's language. What the?!!! Puhleez! Don't treat us like idiots too!
This is a woman who champions gay rights (which is good), but does not see the total hypocrisy in her actions. It's okay for her to make fun of someone else's language, but not someone else. She's a comedian so it's okay for her, er, just like Michael Richards Rosie?
This is an AWESOME editorial to her comments on the View.
Now once again, I am for understanding the intent. But as a person in the public eye, one would think that O'Donnell would be more intelligent than this comment. I guess morons come in all shapes, colors, sizes and genders...
It's about two months away but I am really getting excited about the return of the Tour of California. That would be the premier cycling event in the United States. Now the good citizens of Georgia and Philadelphia might argue that their events are older and more prestigious, but c'mon now!
How's that for California arrogance?!!! And anyhow, what's with calling it the Tour de Georgia?! Since when is French the official language of Georgia. Tour Of California, nice ring to it!
Last year was amazing as it was my first procycling event that I have ever attended. I have watched many on the television, but never have I felt the excitement of a live event.
I was privileged to see the start of the stage two right through the heart of Martinez. The peloton did a couple of parade laps right in downtown Martinez so we were able to view the riders at a slower, more relaxed pace a couple of times!
I was lucky to attend the start with my best friend Joe for two reasons. The first is very practical. Joe knew just where to park, so we would not get a ticket, nor have our cars towed. Very cool!
The second and more important reason was and is Joe is indeed my best friend. Just for reference, I have been friends with Joe for, ahem, 38 years. And he's put up with me for all these decades. I don't nearly get enough time to spend with him as we both have families to attend to and our (maybe it's just mine) work seems to get more and more involved. But I think Joe could see how excited I was to see many of these riders I just have viewed on OLN and to experience it with him was awesome!
After the parade laps, which I must say were very cool, Joe and I said our goodbyes (Joe had work). Like a crazed maniac I drove to Lafayette to view the peloton again. The following little video is what I saw in Lafayette.
Monday, December 11, 2006
It's The Real Thing
Wow...time flies as one gets older! A friend of a friend said to me, which I think is true, "Don't forget to slow down and enjoy life. Because life tends to be like a roll of toilet paper. The further along you go the faster it runs out."
It seems like I was just updating regarding Project Discovery.
I don't do drugs. I barely drink alcohol. But my biggest vice is the damn Coca-Cola. I love the stuff! And not the Diet version, nor the Zero incarnation. Gimme the fully caffeinated, fully sugared, Classic Coca-Cola coursing through my veins.
This started out as a child. As a young lad I had quite a sweet tooth. I loved the sugar. For breakfast I was visited by the Captain, Captain Crunch that is. Cookies for lunch! Later in the day I would get that extra boost to keep me going from the favorite drink of Mean Joe Green. This dentist's recommended diet soon morphed its way into 12 cavities. Whoops.
Now as an adult, I don't have anywhere near the desire for sugar. My addiction has changed to fatty salty foods...lovely. However, I have never lost my lust for Coca-Cola. She has been a mistress that I have struggled to walk away from and she is trying to derail Project Discovery.
This is the amount of sugar in each container of The Real Thing...
Yet I have been a good boy. Bringing my lunch to work, because I can control, somewhat, what goes into my body. I am drinking water and just fondling the Coca-Cola dispenser in our lunch room. Yes, the desire runs deeply.
So here we are, two weeks into Project Discovery...and this morning's weigh-in?
I have lost 2.5 pounds as of the official weigh-in!
Hmmm, now the Michael Richards thing has gotten out of hand. Although in this litigious society that we live in called America, I should have expected this. The two victims of Kramer's racist rant are now threatening to sue him. They are represented by Gloria Allred...you know, Amber Frey's lawyer, the attorney who accused Arnold Schwarzenegger of being a Nazi sympathizer, the one who feels that if you are not a feminist you are a bigot. Yeah, that Gloria Allred!
Okay, I'm not a big fan of lawyers...
Now, I'm not defending what Richards did in the Laugh Factory in Los Angeles. What he screamed at the two patrons was horrible and for a person in the limelight he deserves what he is getting. His use of the N-word was to hurt another person, that is unacceptable. There was no joke behind it, although that would not make it right, there was no punch line, just sheer hatred.
What Richards did was find the most hurtful, mean-spirited verbiage he could and hurled it at those two guys.
"Now Neil," you say, "the title of this post is Nice Colored Boy?!...Isn't that hurtful?"
Well, it could be. However, I am one to always try to understand in what context are the words used. These particular words, "nice colored boy" are in reference to an incident I had in college with this elderly couple. When I reflect back on this moment I always chuckle.
My friend, Ken, who is African-American (By the way, be careful with that one, as not all African-Americans have heritage from Africa. Andrea is not African-American, she hails from the American Virgin Islands!) and I were working at Aaron Brothers. We had this senior citizen couple who were regulars, they happened to be Middle Eastern and English was a second language. Once while asking where Ken was, they referred to him as, "...that nice colored boy..." Now there was not one single ounce of racism in their comment. They were struggling to find the most polite phrase to refer to Ken.
Ken and I would always get a giggle out of this as we knew that they were trying to be kind and respectful. Later they would refer to me as "that nice Chinese boy..." Nice try guys, but I'm Japanese! *Big Laugh!* Once again, they were only trying to be nice.
And this couple was very, VERY, kind...
What I'm trying to say is that in this overly politically correct world, sometimes we need to stop and really try to understand what the words mean. What is the intent? If someone calls me Oriental, are they trying to demean me or is it that they are ignorant that rugs and food are generally classified as Oriental, not humans. (For the record, I have never been that upset over this term. I have very thick skin.)
Yet, I will not allow general stupidity as well. Andy Dick shortly after the Richards incident went on stage at another venue and used the N-word in jest. He later apologized for the phrase. Dumb, dumb, dumb...this is just sheer stupidity.
I always find myself trying to take the high road, as life's to short and if I really get upset, I lose.
Regarding Frank McBride and Kyle Doss, the two guys who were on the receiving end of Kramer's tirade, they deserve Michaels to pay for their entry, maybe a dinner or two, but that's about it. C'mon now, it was bad, but that's just another frivolous lawsuit...thanks Gloria...
As many of you know, I have dabbled in the arts through out my life. I have drawn, painted, written short stories, poems, songs and even acted (hey, that semester of acting class in junior college counts!) I have always been drawn towards these creations that many times have no monetary value, but their emotional value, as the commercial states - priceless.
Thanks to Andrea I discovered an artist named Pascal Campion. He does little comics and animation. Some very funny and whimsical and always able to bring a smile to my face. Campion has a link to an artists' project based in the United Kingdom called the Thunder Chunky Xmas Project. Every day throughout December the website will be highlighting a different artist's work that reflects the Holiday season. Very cool and very fun!
However...
I am always curious what or who dictates what is actually art? Is it art when an "artist" doodles? Is it art when a first timer spends his or her life working on one piece? Is rap an art, although the rapper sampled others' work?
Is this art?...
This is a question that forever plagues the so-called experts. I often find that the ones that somehow get annointed with that expert title are so far removed from the general public that their points of view are not reflective of the masses.
But I urge you to take a gander at the Thunder Chunky Xmas Project. If nothing better it might bring a daily smile (or scowl) to your face and expose you to some new artists. Hopefully it will challenge you to expand what you call art.
Oh yeah, the website is www.thunderchunky.co.uk/xmasproject, or check out my Places To Waste Your Time links...
I just came upon a blog that made me feel like such a weenie. It made my measly goal of eight pounds seem like a trivial pursuit. After reading this particular blog, I felt like if I do not complete and exceed Project Discovery I should be banned from my bike forever, stripped of my lycra and forced into ratty gym clothes to forever toil my way in a spin class.
Muffy the over active, over cheerful leader will guide us through our workout as Abba on steroids is pumped through the stereo system. Yep, if I don't complete Project Discovery, I am banished to Hell...other wise known as spin classes...
Who am I speaking of?
On his blog (http://theamazingshrinkingman.spaces.live.com/) he lists his name as Tom Stormcrowe. (Stormcrowe?!...okay, I can get a little glee that he chose that name as his alias. Er, unless that is his real name, then I must eat crowe yet again!) This guy is a stud! A STUD!!!Why do I claim such adoration for a person I just read about?
At the worst point of his life he had ballooned out to 581 pounds! That's almost four times my weight! He had become so obese that he was on oxygen because his lungs could not maintain the massive needs of his body. Tom (I can't bring myself to use Stormcrowe) was wheelchair bound as his knees could not take the abuse of supporting a quarter ton of human.
This is what 581 pounds of human looks like!
In the past year Tom has dropped to 229 pounds. That's over two of me falling off of him! Way to go Tom!!! In addition he no longer needs the oxygen or the wheelchair. Wow that is truly amazing!
What I particularly love is that nowhere on his blog does Tom claim to be a victim. He is ADAMANT that he has choices in life. His belief is that the only way anyone can achieve something important is to choose to do it, rather than saying I must or I need. Now he and his wife are riding the Tour de Cure in July. That is the ride for the American Diabetes Association.
You know Layla and the incredible opening guitar riff? You remember, a solo distorted guitar deftly playing quick, successive notes, with another guitar playing a rhythmic melody in the background. Then joined by a third guitar wailing high above the others. That is sheer genius. The moment that a song writer is able to come up with the inspiration for a legendary passage in a song must be absolutely life altering.
I'm not talking about an entire song, but a sound, a short melody that is instantly a classic. Maybe I'm over stating this, but as a former amateur song smith, I am in awe of artists who can achieve these breath taking sonic heights.
Steve Winwood is probably known more for his adult-contemporary pop songs of the late 1980's. However while with the Spencer Davis Group in 1967 he co-wrote Gimme Some Lovin'. This starts with a very cool pulsing bass line then a nasty, dirty organ is layered over it. Mmm so tasty! By the way, what makes this song even more incredible is that Windwood was the grand old age of 19 when he wrote and recorded Lovin'.
Memorable melodies do not always add up to a legendary riff or moment. Bitter Sweet Symphony recorded by the Verve, most people can remember the opening strings or synths, however that is probably not because of some inspired writing, more that it was used to hawk some Nikes...
These are actually called Verve II's
Anyhow, Bitter Sweet Symphony's opening was a sample of The Last Time which was penned by two relative unknowns Mick Jagger and Keith Richards. So BSS can't be called a classic in any sense of the imagination.
Another memorable moment comes from Wings' song, Live and Let Die. Wings, uh yeah, that would be Paul McCartney's answer to the Beatles. Who can forget the part when the tempo picks up and the full orchestra supports the bitter guitar skipping through the rhythms of the song.
I can imagine James Bond offing the bad guy and then ordering a martini, shaken not stirred. Now that is a memorable moment!
Although it seems that all my memorable moments from songs come from songs that were written some time ago. However there are some moments of brilliance even now...Verve situations aside.
Although not a true classic as of yet, Clocks by Coldplay has a haunting piano with a swelling synth in the background, slowly building to the start of Chris Martin's singing. Okay, okay...Andrea constantly reminds me that this is a chick band, but I would have loved to have given birth to those piano arpeggios.
Although Eric Clapton now can probably almost lay sole claim to Layla, he actually co-wrote it while in Derek and The Dominos. Every time Clapton receives a royalty check he probably regrets that he shared writing credits for that song...awww who cares as he could probably retire off of that one song!
Yeah I want it...I lust for it...that moment of true inspiration...
What the?!!! I was examining myself in the mirror the other day and I came upon a lone, stray grey hair in my goatee! Now usually I am pretty diligent about plucking these little guys, but this one escaped the wrath of the tweezers!
What really freaked me out was the sheer size of that monster! Where the Hell had it been hiding in the little forest of pubic hairs on my chin?! And why now, did it choose to rise above the rest of its peers to show its whitened head?
Now ordinarily I do not get upset about grey hairs and as a matter of fact I wasn't really upset. It was more of a feeling of wonder. I am getting older and these little human oddities seem to be popping up with greater frequency. I wonder if one day all that will remain of me is some freakish human tissue that was once me. A lump of flesh, with random patches of multi-colored hair...
Now I have sailed off course with this little rant about one grey hair. Today is my first update of Project Discovery. Remember? Eight pounds in eight weeks? Although I weigh myself more frequently than once a week, the official weigh-in day will be Monday mornings...sans clothing...okay, that may be too much information, however, we need to get the rules out there. And the first update is...
...I have lost one pound! Yippee!!!
Now, my weight can fluctuate tremendously in the course of a day. I have witnessed my weight swing by five pounds in one day, so I don't get too excited over 16 ounces. However, one pound lighter is better than one pound heavier!
Oh yeah, it was a glorious day out at Ocean Beach in San Francisco. It's funny how days that one expects to be somewhat tedious turns into something fantastic.
Today would be one of those moments...
Andrea was volunteering at an art show at the Fort Mason Center down in the Marina. I needed to drive her to the show, as Andrea lacks the confidence yet to drive in the City. So we packed the kids into the Escape and up the 280 we went.
Her volunteer time was to last three hours and I was under pressure to entertain the leetle ones for 180 minutes. It was too far to drive home to San Jose, so it was hanging in San Francisco for Soraya, Brandon and me. What to do, what to do...
The Beach!...luckily for us, the weather was amazing today!
We quickly wound our way through the City, past the Cliff House and out to the mighty Pacific. As we rounded the turn by the Cliff House, Brandon exclaimed, "Wow!!! Look at all that beach!!!"
What an amazing day. The sun beamed down on us as I rolled up their jeans (Unfortunately, Soraya's were not rolled up high enough and she did not heed my warnings about straying a little too deep into the little pools of water. The lower half of her jean's legs were soaked!) They...we...had a blast as they roamed the sands collecting a small herd of sea shells.
Three hours later we dusted off our feet and picked up Andrea at Fort Mason. The sun slowly setting over the Pacific. Yep...that's what I love about each day, you never know where the day will lead.
...so here I type ending a wonderful day...tomorrow, I have my first "official" weigh in for Project Discovery. I have been a good boy. Let's hope it pays off at the scale.
