Quiet

Sorry I've been quiet, lately (maybe not for some!) I'm in the process of moving out of my condo and into a temporary place until my new house is built (late July or August is the scheduled completion time). I promise I will have something new soon! Thanks for visiting!

Not enough days in the week...

I've heard it said a lot, but I figured this time I should actually make a sorry attempt to analyze it. We're all busy, we all have things to do. Work, kids, school, events, birthdays, weddings, funerals, church, bar-hopping, eating out, visiting relatives, yard work, laundry, taxes... the list goes on. It seems like there's not enough time in the day and not enough days in the week.

On first glance at a calendar, you see that the week is sandwiched by Sunday and Saturday. The weekend, the time everyone looks forward to, every single week. Don't deny it. If we all enjoyed work, we wouldn't call it work, we'd call it fun or quasi-enjoyable. The days in the middle are the ones to look at. People often wonder why we have seven days in a week and not six or four or eight. Less the weekend, we have five days. I think it was originally four, but some joker (probably an oil company exec) decided he would employ his skill by squeezing another workday in. Examine:

Monday - this is the first day, Mon-day, rhymes with One-Day. Day number one.

Tuesday - this is the second day, almost like Two-day. Day number two.

Thursday - this by all accounts, should be the third day. Th.. Th.. Thursday. Th.. Th.. Three.

Friday - the fourth day, F.. F.. Friday, F.. F.. Four.

Now all you quick sons-a-bitches already noticed I skipped Wednesday. That's the day that was sneaked into the week. We had a nice even number of days in a week (including weekends). Six. Seis. Sechs! Not seven. Seven the fourth prime number, 111 in binary, the Seven Wonders of the World, the Seven Sacraments, the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven fires of Hell... clearly, we have enough crap that's seven.

Of course, someone might push that baloney on you that they're named after Roman gods or Cambodian hookers or something, but no. I think it's simpler than that. God allegedly created the Earth in six days, and rested on the seventh. So what happened to the eighth? Did he start on a Tuesday? Probably a Wednesday!

The days of the week as a work day is very interesting to follow. They clearly needed to add Wednesday as a desperate measure. Monday is the day everyone hates, ugh. Monday, "he's got a case of the Mondays!". Tuesday, you just start getting your groove on and figuring out what you're doing. Wednesday, that's work day, the day you actually do some true, honest work. Thursday, you're done with the work bull, because Friday is almost here! Friday, that's it, it's the weekend, time to stay out late, get hammered and sleep in on Saturday.

So the day you actually get work done is Wednesday. If you note my above observation, there is no way humankind would survive without Wednesday. No one would ever get any work done! I even considered putting this off until tomorrow. A WEDNESDAY no less!

Fiction & "Reality"

Really, they're the same thing, at least by today's standard. When someone thinks reality TV, they think of the crud that network executives are forcing upon us on the 300+ channels of "digital entertainment". Those of more keen memory will remember shows like Candid Camera and You Asked For It literally plowed the road for today's reality TV. Though today, there are clear differences, mainly in the categories of "reality" and the actual entertainment value.

Later in the 80s and 90s, shows like COPS and the UKs Changing Rooms (precursor to our ripoff, Trading Spaces among other things we stole from the UK. I would guess repayment for bailing them out of "dubya dubya two") came about and started the trail of the current shows.

Now describing valueless TV like MTVs Real World as reality is truly a misnomer. There's nothing real about misguided, lazy, twenty-somethings prancing around a common house humping everything that moves. Well, maybe there is, but in this case "scripted reality" doesn't count. There was nothing real about it. Watching the news is considerably more real than that crap. And even that is somewhat scripted, as they tell you what they want you to hear. I digress.

Now we have Survivor, Flavor of Love (I can't even believe that so many people falsify it's ratings by watching it with any measure of interest) and gems like Rock of Love. Jesus, if I wanted to see a middle-aged lead singer of a marginal 80s hard rock band still prove to the world he's alone for a reason, I'd watch the Surreal Life (Goddamn they keep 'em coming!) It's plainly crap and further supports my observations of the continual Dumbification of America. Don't even get me started on all the other celebrity crap, much less American Idol and the other mindless opiate. I don't care what these people do, and if their life's direction has been so awkwardly skewed that we take pleasure in watching them continue to screw up, they shouldn't have been celebrities to begin with, and we should take a long hard look at our own lives.

Yes, I hate Reality TV. Call me close-minded, but I think health care concerns, starving children, abused pets and animals, homeless veterans, orphaned children, foreign oil dependency, dying soldiers, a failing U.S. economy, rising gas prices (and rising oil company profits, wtf?), another (at least) four years of continuing Bush policy, government ignorance of historic landmarks, the state of catholic church, education, the list goes on, are more of a concern to me than Flavor Flav's sex drive. A funny and intriguing footnote to this, if you Google "political and social concerns", note the number of results that involve religion. Morbidly humorous.

Happy 5th Anniversary to the War in Iraq! Wait, what happened to "Mission Accomplished"?

Reading, Riting & Rithmetic

The three R's... whoever came up with that was a grade A, first-class, government-approved, Emmy-award-winning retard. Naturally, I use the word "retard" in the most loving way I know, which is truthfully. People sometimes get antsy and uncomfortable when I use that word, but at least I know it's having the effect that I intended in the first place: antsy and uncomfortable. Now onto the original topic of today's entry into the blog (which is another word for another time!)

I've been doing a lot of reading, as I typically do. I find interest in science fiction & fantasy novels and stories, they seem to capture my mind longer than trite and uneventful non-fiction works. The first thing people think when they hear that is: "Dude, you must be a trekkie!" If you think science fiction was based solely around the imagination of Gene Roddenberry then you're a moron. Don't get me wrong, Star Trek ushered in an age that stimulated the minds of underaged flower-children and caused them to pursue a life more robust and successful than their maryjane-wielding parents did. They went on to lucrative careers with inventions and breakthroughs that may never have come without the influence of the short-lived original TV series.

Yes. They're still geeks, but I'd put a geek against anyone at anytime. I think back to my high school days where the cliques and factions of students decided where they woudl fit in the world later in life. Guess what? The geeks are taking home 6-digit salaries, the band members are covering the creative and entertaining portion of the population, and Mr. & Mrs. Prom are doing exactly what was expected of them: pumping gas into my $25,000 truck and getting me some extra salad dressing and another beer "when they get a chance." If Mrs. Prom was lucky enough to make more money, she had to do it naked on a table in a dive club somewhere near metro-Boston. You know, the one where the cover charge includes a tetanus shot. Alas, I digress...

I've been reading an amazing series by Kim Stanley Robinson known as the Mars Trilogy. The three novels, beginning with Red Mars are a chronicle of the settlement and terraforming of Mars. The story is told through the viewpoints of an array of characters and across a span of several generations of them. Egalitarianism is a focus, and the story touches on sociological impacts of the advancements in science. It's pretty good, there are some odd things about the story that some would call "believability discrepancies", I call those people imagination-challenged, go back to watching American Idol, Flavor of Love, Survivor and other riveting "reality" television. Otherwise, it's definitely got it covered from a technical standpoint and it's enjoyable. The story continues into Green Mars, then finishes with Blue Mars.

I've tossed around the idea for a while (by a while I mean about 10 years) of writing my own story. It would have to be science fiction, that's all I really know and all I could be comfortable writing. Of course, the writing would be better than it is on this thing, usually I have at least a beer in me before I pop on here (Sam Adams, none other), so I have somewhat of a viable excuse. I have several ideas and backdrops, I just lack a concrete theme. I'll continue to drink and procrastinate till I find one.

As far as the math portion of this entry, go read about Euclid.

House hunting, weddings, and vacations, oh my!

Here I am, in the midst of trying to sell my condo and buy a new construction house. Jesus H. Christ (Hernando, that's his middle name if you we're wondering) what a pain in the ass. Timing, sign this, sell that, contingency, deposit, outbid, sold, sale pending, property tax, ARGH! Things are going better than I can ask for, at least. The current housing market sucks donkey nuggets in a big way, but I've got some keen interest in my place, though I may be homeless until the new house is done. The timing of closing will never work, ah well.

The wedding plans must go on also, though we aren't really going over the top with it. I should have listened to Sheri at the beginning and gone to Las Vegas dressed like a moronic Trekkie and did the deed on the replica bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise, it would have been far cheaper. But getting me on a plane for that long, that's another story all together. Photographer is still needed and we need to nail down our honeymoon details more.

Nova Scotia is the destination, I hope to have many great photos, and have a relaxing time for a change! There are many lighthouses, but there are also many other places to see, including Gros Morne National Park in Newfoundland. After watching a show on the Science Channel (currently, the best channel on TV) about it, it makes it even more desirable of a location. We're planning on PEI, Glace Bay and Halifax, so far, but I'm sure we'll be winging it some of the time. We'll be taking the ol' Mazda over on "The Cat" ferry from Bah Hahbah (Bar Harbor for all you non-New Englanders), i even managed to squeeze in a lighthouse cruise the day before we leave. I rock!

I've been sick the last week or so, it's still lingering but finally looks like it's heading out of my system (yes, that way), hopefully my energy level will be back to normal soon and I can get back to playing with the band and making fart and pee jokes on a regular basis.

A year older & wiser

Well, my 36th birthday passed with little fanfare, which is just how I like it. My future wife, in her infinite awesomeness, took me to see the Boston Bruins get annihilated by the Florida Panthers at the "Gahden", 6-3. Still fun though, as a former season-ticket holder of the Bruins, it was good to see the old barn again. Mostly, I spent time with family and got to take my 9-year-old future step-daughter to the Father-Daughter dance at her school. We were both the most retarded-looking dancers there, but we had a lot of fun and that's all that matters! Later this spring, my future step-son, myself, and some other family members will be making the trip to Loudon, NH to see the Lenox Industrial Tools 301 NASCAR race. After visiting the track for the first time last year (at least that I can remember) I've become a fan, and wished I would have been earlier in life. It's an exhilarating experience when you see it live, there's no words that can really explain it, you just have to be there. Dick Berggren's (Fox pit reporter for NASCAR races) weekly appearances on my favorite morning radio show WHEB 100.3 convinced me to give NASCAR a try, and it's all 190MPH left-turns from there. Thanks Dick!

Currently, the process of house buying and selling has taken over our lives, with our wedding coming up this July, we need a larger place for the 4 people, 4 cats, and 1 dog. My wonderful neighbor (also a realtor) is helping us out, and hopefully soon we'll have something to call home. I'll try and post some photos if we do find something.

On the music front, Tres Culo Banditos (the adopted name of the band) is flying lower than usual, busy families and lives have caught up to us and we haven't played in a while. Hopefully, we'll get back in the saddle and come up with a better name for the band. After all, being the three-piece power trio (cough) that we are, we need a better image. We certainly can't convince people we're great on looks alone, that's for sure! I would like to get us recorded soon, and if it happens, we'll do 3 or 4 cover tunes for posterity. We have a lot of fun playing and recording just lets us stretch out to bit wider audience and gives our friends something cool to show around.

Till next time!

First post!

Super Tuesday. That's today. It's already been a tough week watching Fixed Bowl XLII and the NFL hand the New York Giants the championship. So far that's two things this week that I've concluded are much in-tune with money. Money. The motivation, end, and means of all things that should be pure and good. Who's going to buy the presidency? Who's going to buy the Super Bowl?

In one of my unethusiastic attempts to put the Patriots behind me, I looked ahead to the Daytona 500. Yes, I'm a fan. Yes, I have been to a race. No, I do not have a number '8' tattooed anywhere on my person, and although I live in New Hampshire and within spit shot of towns that possibly allow you to marry your own sister, I am not married to her. Matter-of-factly, I'll be married this July for the first and last time. Wow, my mother was right, things do come full-circle, because now we're back to money! Let's get it out, I'm a #17 fan, Matt Kenseth. I like his style, I like his presentation, and I happen to think DeWalt tools rule. I own a few of them!

Meanwhile, on the other side of my brain. Mike Huckabee plays bass. I play bass. That's just plain cool. Though I think the proverbial snowball in hell has a better chance. Forget Obama, though I am thoroughly impressed with Mrs. Obama's speaking ability. I think he'd have done better in 4 more years. I'm a registered independent, though I chose to vote Democratic in the New Hampshire primary. It's plainly obvious who I voted for (if you think Romney because I'm a Massachusetts native, then you are absolutely wrong and retarded because he's Republican) The issues I believe in are education and the war in Iraq for one reason each. The world is full of stupid people and I lost a cousin in the war. We need to educate Americans before we end up driving ourselves extinct from stupidity and concerns like global warming and oil dependency won't need to be concerns. A sure sign that the Dumbification of America has begun is displayed in the weekly TV ratings that consistently put American Idol as the #1 show. Good god, I don't have the bandwidth to comment on that goddamn train wreck. Lastly, we need to get the f**k out of Iraq and every other place we don't belong. Iran will find a way to use nuclear technology, so will North Korea, so will Morrocco if they had a good goddamn reason. We need to fix what we have here first, then go out and try to prevent what will eventually become Fortress America.

On the music front, I was upset to hear that Kevin DuBrow from Quiet Riot passed on due to what was termed as an "accidental cocaine overdose". Now we'll analyze that phrase in a minute, but if you haven't noticed by my Current Music list on the right, I tend to gravitate to the heavy side of music. Quiet Riot, Dokken, and other hair metal bands from the 80s were a staple of my youth and a foundation for the music I play and listen to today. Thanks Kevin!

Now, there's one type of cocaine overdose. It's called a cocaine overdose. There's no goddamn qualifying prefix to that phrase. No "accidental", "slightly questionable", or even "kinda" cocaine overdose. You do cocaine for one reason and one reason only, and that's on purpose. Though it doesn't diminish my sadness of what transpired for Kevin, I thought I would touch on that point, because crap like that bugs me.

You'll find that what I'll mostly post here are things that just bug me. You know what that is, things that just make you look dumbfounded, look to others for possible clarification when there's really none to be found, and ultimately lead to jamming a slim pen-sized X-Acto knife right into your retina, blade end first. Often, though, I may post something of comedic value.