The Soda Fountain

Well, it's been fun, but I have to go now

2006-11-09T16:15:00.000-08:00

Dear patrons of the Soda Fountain, our lease has expired.

And we must move.

It's been fun sharing the last year and a half with you, it really has. I've been as candid with you as possible during this time about my life and struggles and what have you.

But it's time to move on.

However, there IS good news here too.

The Soda Fountain has found a new home. Some of you have (or will be) e-mailed a link to our new location, a brighter and shinier building with a brand new soda fountain that is open and ready for you.

And it will host all of our podcasts. Past, Present, and Future.

If you would like to be directed to the new location but haven't received an e-mail with the new link, please email me here to let me know.

And so, I bid you farewell.

Advice for 18-Year-Old J

2006-06-09T13:45:00.000-07:00

There's something about this season of graduations and commencements that makes me want to give advice.

The other day I was thinking about what wisdom I would impart, if given the opportunity, to my younger self. If I was somehow able to catch up with my 18-year-old self, what would I tell him?

So, 18-year-old J, listen up. I've got some stuff I need to share with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dude, you just turned 18 and you're starting out at college! I'm so excited for you, you have no idea!

I've got some good news and bad news for you, J. First, the bad news.

You're about to enter a very difficult and often shitty decade of your life. I'm here to help, so I'm not going to mince words. You're tougher than you think you are...you can handle it.

The good news is that you make it out a much better person than you are now. Oh, stop. You're fine now, true. You're definitely fine for an 18 year old. The problem is that you STAY 18 way longer than you should. Don't beat yourself up about it now, just be mindful of it.

At the risk of ripping the whole space-time continuum to shreds, causing the universe to collapse, I'm going to give you some much-needed advice. You might want to take notes.

1. OK, this is a biggie. Don't try to fuck every woman you meet. Yeah, yeah. Save me that crap about being in love with your high-school girlfriend and you'd never do such a thing. I'm you, remember?

You're actually kind-of a dick when it comes to women. High-school sweetheart included.

The thing is, some of these women might actually make good life-long friends. If you try to fuck them all, most of them are going to end up being your mortal enemies. Dude, that's a lonely, lonely place.

2. Try making some guy friends. They're good for you. You get much better at it much later, but why not start now?

3. You're going to join a fraternity when you go to college this year. I know you can't believe it, but it's true. And it's mostly a GOOD thing. You pick a good one. I'd recommend hanging out there much more than you're prone to do. It's not all pornos and beer, you know. Some of these guys you're about to call "brother" are really cool, really smart, really brave, really down-to-earth, and will really care about you if you let them.

4. Avoid isolating yourself, which is another thing you're prone to do. Some "alone time" is fine. But weeks of "alone time" on end? That shit'll fuck with your head something fierce.

5. Consider studying in groups. Yes, you're really smart. No, you're not going to flunk out (but you have to work at not flunking out.) There are some classes you're going to take that are going to be almost unbearable to get through. Those might be good ones to study in groups for. You'll know which ones they are pretty quickly in the semester.

6. Live life with hope, not fear. I've started doing this only recently. It's quite nice. You might want to do this before you get to be my age.

7. You're going to be lonely sometimes. After a while, you're going to get lonely a lot. Then it gets better. Maybe, when you're feeling really lonely, hanging out with someone would feel less lonely than feeling lonely all alone. Deep, I know.

8. You have a tendency to get impulsive. Sometimes it's a lot of fun. But I'd recommend getting in the habit of stopping for 60 seconds when you feel impulsive and thinking things through to their logical and likely conclusion. You make some REALLY big decisions in the next five or six years. This whole "60-second" rule would be an awesome thing to exercise. And all decisions, like "should me and her get naked and root around for a while", would benefit from the 60-second rule.

9. Some dreams take risks to realize. Some risks are manageable, or even worth it. Take 60 seconds (see rule 8) to think about the risks, and then if they are manageable refuse to let them get in the way of your dreams.

10. You get desperate and pick some lousy girlfriends. Don't.

11. Seek advice and listen to it. No one says you have to do everything on your own.

12. Your parents are kind-of critical of you and don't support you in some of your dreams. It sucks, I know. They act this way because they love you and want you to succeed. And they recognize how neurotic and insecure you are. Oh, quit pouting. You need to hear this.

Your parents are people too and they don't always do the best, most perfect things. Listen to them, look for a "deeper" message beyond the disapproval and worry, and take that to heart.

Then ignore them.

13. Stand up for yourself. You spend a LOOOONG time taking unnecessary shit from people. Tell someone to fuck off if they need to hear it. Speak your mind, if you need to. Sometimes you'll need to exercise tact, sometimes not.

14. Having said that, don't do something just to pick a fight. If it's going to result in possible physical harm, exercise tact.

15. Drive carefully. That car you call "yours" is a bit of a death trap. It wasn't built to handle 80 + MPH. Actually, it wasn't built to handle you at all. And for a while, you make it your hobby to get into car accidents. Bad idea, dude. Bad idea.

16. You know your uncles who have that problem called "addiction?" Do you think they're happy? Do you know addiction issues run in families? Be careful here. It may not be the same issue those uncles have, but whatever it is could sneak up on you and really fuck up your life.

Here, I'll make it simple. If you start "indulging" in something a lot, and you start doing things you never thought you'd do, and you have to start justifying your behavior, and you start lying to cover it all up, all the while hating yourself more and more...well, that's addiction.

17. No matter what's happening during the moment, life continues. It goes up, it goes down, and you ride along with it. Try not to be too discouraged by the "down" times and try to enjoy the ride. Things could always be worse. Hey, look at me! So far, I have all my limbs and a decent brain and can still make farting noises with my armpits.

19. Get out and do things you wouldn't normally do. If you have an opportunity to explore, do it. Go on road trips. Play in the rain. Take dancing lessons. Learn Origami.

OK, scratch the Origami lessons. But maybe "balloon animal" lessons would be cool?

20. Set goals. Then meet them. Some should be small goals, like "I'm going to finish this chapter of Biology before the end of the night, even if I fall asleep 11 times doing it." Some should be larger goals like "I'm going to be a campus leader by running for X position." Set these goals based on your other scheduling requirements. You probably shouldn't join some 4-AM streaking club if you have an 8 AM class, for example.

21. No one in the world expects you to be perfect. So maybe you shouldn't expect it of yourself.

22. Finally, have fun. Smile and laugh. People like smiles and laughter. You have a tendency to take yourself too seriously. That's a bad thing. No need to make life harder than it is by taking yourself too seriously.

I've got to go now. Honestly, I could probably give you a thousand pieces of advice to follow but I'll stop at 22. That should take you a long way.

Look. Life is hard. The end. There's this concept that you've never been taught about "suffering gracefully." I know, it sounds like bullshit. But it isn't. You're going to suffer from time to time...suffering gracefully means taking the disappointments in stride, keeping things in perspective, sharing the disappointments with friends who love you, and being thankful for the things you're not suffering through.

And don't be afraid. Remember the good news at the beginning before I started to talk? You make it through all of this just fine.

Oh, one final thing. You do get married when you're older, and she's an absolute HOTTIE! So don't worry about ending up alone, or ending up with an ugly girl, or anything like that. Trust me, it all works out.

See you in the mirror in about 14 years.

Blessed are the forgetful

2006-06-06T11:49:00.000-07:00

"Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders." - Friedrich Nietzsche

It isn't often that a movie captivates me on so many levels like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

I don't write about movies much in spite of my love of a well written show. It's hard to find a movie that can resonate inside. Machismo and explosions have their place, but there is an astounding lack of substance in movies these days. The substitution of form over substance is the order of the day.

I'm not going to tell you too much about the show. If you're a moody, emotional bitch (like me) then you'll like the show.

I admit, I was completely turned off by the title. It's just weird. But I've watched it about 10 times in the last 2 weeks.

I guess I got over the weird title.

"Tis Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

Or is it?

On the surface, that's the premise of this show. Would you erase all memories of a lost love if you could, make it so that they never existed? In the pain of a breakup, would you decide it's better to have never loved at all?

On subsequent viewings, I've noticed some deeper themes, points, and questions. Such as, if two people really are good together, if they really do enrich each other to the nth degree in spite of their dysfunctions and idiosyncracies, can that really be erased permanently?

Or if the pain of disappointment upon finding your significant other is actually NOT perfect is confronted directly, can it be overcome? Can it even actually serve to deepen a relationship?

This last question has special significance to me, and I believe it to be true. It certainly has been true in my marriage.

One of the most interesting aspects of this movie is that it focuses on five relationships in five stages of growth and destruction. During the primary viewing, I was captivated by the main relationship, the main focus of the story. Later, I started to look more at the other friendships and relationships in the story. Then I was able to watch it again and put it all into context. None of the characters are airbrushed into perfection...it is no typical Hollywood romance. It's one thing that makes it such a fascinating story.

And then there is the amazing cinemetography. It is told very well with the visuals alone.

The next time it's raining outside, and maybe a little chilly out, go out and rent this DVD. Maybe you're able to take more in at once than I am...but if you're not, watch it a couple of times. Watch it once to absorb the central story line and the cinematography. Then watch it again to check out all the other stuff that's going on.

Then sit down with a cup of tea and think about it.

"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd." - Alexander Pope

Once a swimmer, always a swimmer

2006-05-31T12:43:00.000-07:00

It's hard to believe today is the 31st of May.

Do you remember the excitement of coming to the end of May when you were in grade school? Though I'm 32, sometimes it seems that it hasn't been that long since I would giddily anticipate the end of the school year. The freedom of the summer laid out before me and my friends, the long days spent at the public pool barely out of reach.

I spent most of my summers at the local public pool in small town Illinois. We weren't a wealthy family and I didn't live in a "wealthy" town, so the idea of having a private pool seemed sort-of antisocial and elitist. Part of the fun of going to the public pool was seeing your friends (and, later in adolescence, seeing teenage girls in small swim suits). But there was always more to my love affair than friends and hormones.

I always loved pools, ever since I was old enough to drown. The smell of the chlorine, the feeling of the cool clear water on my skin...even the burn of the chemicals in my eyes was appealing. My hair would become bleached by the sun and made brittle by the chlorine. There was nothing better.

It seemed natural to me that I joined the summer swim team after 8th grade, though my parents were surprised. I was never an athletic child, so that (I'm sure) was part of the surprise. And I guess the fact that I was a really fat 8th grader also added to the shock. My mom was very concerned about me being seen in a speedo.

But I joined. Joined and, that first summer on the team, found out what consistently placing last in the heats felt like. It was discouraging...I'm not sure why I stuck with it. But I did, and I made it through that first season. Belly hanging over the tiny swim-team speedos and collecting purple 6th-place ribbons.

Then my growth spurt kicked in. The tubby kid in the purple speedos was no more.

I was a different me the next summer. Getting up at 6 am to do two hours of laps was no struggle, and often I would do a third hour of laps at 5 pm. I would sleep in my swim trunks so I could roll out of bed and onto my bike. My heart rate got to be so low (about 40 beats per minute) that my parents become concerned. I could swim 50 meters (down and back) underwater without breathing. I started having dreams that I could actually breath underwater, which rocked my world. The sixth place ribbons were replaced by first and second place ribbons, and I qualified for our divisional finals. I didn't get very far...those were some fast fuckers I was placed against. But that day at the divisional finals was one I'll never forget.

Nor could I ever forget the feeling of the ice-cold water at 6 am after a cool summer night. The dew would still be on the fields of corn and beans as I rode my bike to the pool. My skin would tingle those first couple of morning laps, and then my muscles would warm up. And soon I would find myself in the zone. I'd be swimming and swimming and lose track of time and distance. I'd just hear the sound of the water in my ears, the feeling of the water as it glided over my skin.

My last summer on the team I was 16. I was in the 16 - 18 age group now, and suddenly I was the slowest of the bunch again. I still enjoyed it...sometimes success or failure isn't measured by ribbons but by how much fun something is. But I won't lie; being unable to finish first took some of the fun out of the sport.

I can no longer swim 50 meters holding my breath. Young women with wet hair and a swim suit on still do it for me, but now I'm the creepy guy in the next lane instead of the handsome young swimmer.

But I'll always be a swimmer. I'll always love the feel of the cool water against my skin and the smell of the chlorine. And when I get in that pool, I'll always feel 15.

Jen's birthday...time for another story!

2006-05-08T12:00:00.000-07:00

Once again, it is J's Sister's birthday. She turns...old today.

I've been trying to think of another good story to tell about her, but all the ones I think of end up incriminating her in some way, shape, or form. I mean, she has always been "her own woman". Hard headed and determined. It's why she's such a kick-ass business-woman.

Things were "Her way or the highway" ever since she was a little girl, and things haven't changed much as she's grown. Take, for instance, her penchant for running away.

It seems that Jen has always been in a power struggle with my parents, from conception through High School graduation. If she had had her way, she would have been emancipated and living in an apartment in New York City by the time she was 7. While I was the son who missed his mommy after a week at Boy Scout Camp, she was the daughter who shrugged with indifference when mom and dad showed up to pick her up from horse camp.

"Did you miss us?" they'd ask.

"Sure. Yeah. Whatever." would be the reply.

"Whatever" became a very popular word in her vocabulary.

This power struggle was fairly one sided, at least until she started driving. Driving at the ripe old age of 13, I might add. Slightly ahead of society's accepted driving age but, like I said, she's her own woman.

Jen even tried to emancipate herself several times as a young girl by threatening to run away. I didn't understand why my big sis wanted to leave our family so badly and was more threatened than my parents were, to be sure.

"If you make me, I'll run away".

You gotta admire her, she was "plucky".

One night, my parents decided to call her bluff.

"Ok." My mom said. "Dad will help you pack and I'll make you a sandwich for your trip. You want peanut butter and jelly?"

"I mean it!" My sister yelled.

"I know, honey. So...Do you want peanut butter and jelly or something else?"

My sister stood and stared, trying to figure out what was going on. I ran to the family room and hid...if I wasn't there surely this wouldn't happen. Finely my sister responded "Yes, peanut butter and jelly!" and stormed to her room.

Mom went to the kitchen and dad went to her room to help her pack her little white suitcase with red stripes.

And me? Well, my mind was blown! What in the name of God was going on? Had my parents completely lost their minds? I was really starting to get worried now. What if my parents wanted to get rid of me next? Would they just go buy me a new sister? Dad liked to build things and tinker...maybe he'd make a trip down to the local hardware store, pick up some parts, and build a new one! And I'd never see my real sister again!

Good God, had the world completely gone nuts!?!!??

I think I started crying when dad helped Jen carry her suitcase down the stairs to the front door, prompting her to make sure she got her rain coat in case the weather turned bad. I was too overwhelmed to notice the thoroughly freaked out look on Jen's face.

She meekly said "I mean it. I'm running away..." as my mom brought her a paper bag with a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches inside.
"Ok, honey. Be careful. Make sure you look both ways before crossing the street. Send us a postcard when you get to wherever you're going..."

Dad opened the door and Jen walked outside into the night.

That was it for me. I ran back to the family room, buried my face in the sofa cushions and started bawling. I was never going to see her again! My mom tried to come comfort me but there was no comfort to be had. She was the one, after all, who had sold out and given in to my sister's threats. She even made sandwiches! SANDWICHES!!! Seriously, what the HELL was going on? I was doubting everything I knew to be real!

I didn't believe mom when she said she'd be back, that she couldn't go far. I called her a liar. I told her to get the hell away from me, that she had gone completely bonkers, that she was way out of line to let my sister go. There would be damnation and hellfire awaiting her at death.

I'm paraphrasing, of course. I was only 4 or 5.

After I calmed down, I went out to the kitchen to see what was going on and found my sister there. Eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She told me, matter of factly, that it was too cold out tonight and that she'd leave in the morning when it was brighter and warmer.

She was undefeated, merely set back. And I was traumatized for life...

Happy Birthday, sis! I love you!

RWO Rocks Sydney

2006-04-25T12:17:00.000-07:00

The lights go off at the Sydney Entertainment Centre as I stand off stage left, every nerve in my body vibrating with excitement. It's the first show of RWO's first international tour...the months of rehearsal and preparation are either going to pay off or we're going to embarrass ourselves horribly.

Either way Craig, Pip, Dale, and I are going to goof off and have fun on stage. I can't think about it too much right now...I'm solely focused on keeping Craig from passing out from excitement and nerves.

As the venue is steeped in darkness we can hear the crowd roar in anticipation and excitement. The enormous semi-transparent projection screen that serves as a stage curtain lights up with the image of StrongBad's monochromatic computer screen. StrongBad walks into the picture and sits down at his computer with his back to the audience to answer an e-mail. The crowd quiets down as he begins to type...

As StrongBad lifts his BMW lighter into the air at the end of the clip, the electronic background rhythm of "Clearly Opaque" (all but hidden on the CD) starts to loop. Pip, behind his drum kit, starts playing the jazz-influenced rhythm on top of it that starts the song, backlit with a strong spotlight that shows his silhouette on the screen as StrongBad's image fades. Dale comes in on the bass part, front lit by an orange spot in all his goateed glory. On a dare by Craig and I, he's wearing some lederhosen a German fan sent him after an offhand comment he made in an interview a couple of weeks ago. I don't think he's wearing underwear, either. We're going to have to burn those after tonight's show.

Thankfully, his image is eerily blurred by the screen in front of him. That's one goofy mother.

Craig comes in on the primary rhythm guitar part but remains dark, a shadow behind the screen. Standing a few inches behind the screen, I sing and growl the first verse. All goes dark (except this trippy image of a woman descending motionless into a watery abyss being projected on the screen) on the bridge that leads into the chorus and then...

An explosion of light as the curtain falls to the floor and we rip into the chorus with full force. The show has truly begun, for us as well as you.

I look down into third row, center, and see the woman who is ChickyBabe standing there with this enormous grin on her face. During Craig's solos I find her staring at him with what can only be described as "lust" in her eyes. She looks at me during one of his solos and raises her backstage pass (on a lanyard around her neck) toward me. With a smile, I look back and nod. It's going to be fun to read her review of the show on her blog the next day. And though I know I'll be exhausted after the show, I can't wait to meet her. I'm sure it will be a brief meeting...somehow, I know that she'll manage to get Craig alone. Still, it'll be good to meet.

To be continued backstage after the show...

Christmas '95, in Dayton

2006-04-13T14:31:00.000-07:00

You know Emily, it's funny. I can't hear Alannis Morissette's song "Ironic" without thinking of you.

You remember it, don't you? Walking down the streets of Dayton in late December with Whitney, singing the chorus in three-part harmony? Damn, we sounded good. Sure, it was cheesy. And it's never been one of my favorite songs, you know. I wonder how many times Alannis has been confronted by someone well-educated in English to tell her that indeed, it isn't really "ironic". More of an "unfortunate coincidence" than anything else.

But in this case it had nothing to do with the lyrics. Even songs that show no understanding of "irony" sound good with three-part harmony. We sounded like a regular Peter, Paula, and Mary. Man, did it feel good.

Look, I'm not trying to be melodramatic or anything, but does that memory ever cross your mind? Or can you only think about how much of a dick I was in my early 20s? Or maybe you don't think of me at all.

No matter the answer, I sure wish we were still in touch. I wish we could make each other laugh again...

As Defined by Pet Shop Boys

2006-04-04T09:21:00.000-07:00

This is probably going to come as a shock to those of you who only know that I'm recording a rock-oriented CD, but one of my favorite bands is Pet Shop Boys. Most people think of them as only Euro-Pop, which is certainly true. But they also write amazingly complex songs, both musically and lyrically. And they're weird and artistic in a way that shows everyone they don't take themselves too seriously. You get major points with me for being weird and silly and artistic.

I self-tagged myself on ChickyBabe's blog to answer these questions with song titles from my favorite band. So, here we go...

Favorite band: Pet Shop Boys

Are you male or female? Boy Strange

Describe yourself: Sexy Northerner

How do some people feel about you: Electricity; flamboyant; How Can You Expect To Be Taken Seriously?; So Hard

How do you feel about yourself: Being Boring

Describe your ex boyfriend / girlfriend: I Don't Know What You Want But I Can't Give It Anymore

Describe your current significant other: It Always Comes As A Surprise; Positive Role Model

Describe where you want to be: Closer to Heaven

Describe how you live: I Get Along

Describe how you love: I Wouldn't Normally Do This Kind of Thing

What would you ask for if you had just one wish: I Want A Dog

Share a few words of wisdom: We All Feel Better In The Dark; Se a Vida E; It's Alright; Happiness Is An Option

Now say goodbye: Always On My Mind, J

The Trouble With Redheads

2006-03-03T14:43:00.000-08:00

Thanks to a post by The Dog's Name for this post idea. He's an amazing writer, and I highly recommend reading some of his posts.

Before going further, I need to tell y'all that I'm married to a redhead, and a wonderful redhead at that. Although she's not perfect, she's the closest to perfect that a guy could find. And she's only getting better, she really is.

The trouble with redheads is that they're so damn beautiful.

Part of it is the novelty factor, the fact that true redheads are few and far between. Shoot, other women think redheads are beautiful. Why else would so many women claim that they are "redheads" when clearly they are brunettes, or dirty blondes (referring to hair color of course, not sexual proclivities).

But there is a much cooler component to redheads that make them beautiful and sexy. Redheads , for the most part, have been made fun of most of their lives growing up. I've found that the "personality" factor in redheads is directly proportional to their fiery personalities and the fact that they had to be strong growing up. Simply put, redheads are not only beautiful, but very very cool. That's a dead sexy combination.

Red hair...porcelain skin...mischeivious smile...freckles...fiery personality...yes sir, the trouble with redheads is that they're so much trouble.

secret Lair

2006-03-02T12:31:00.000-08:00

No studio time tonight after all. I spent Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights this week working on various projects and could use a night off, away from the computer.

Not many people know this, but I am in possession of a small volcanic island in the pacific...you know, for those times when I just have to get away from the hustle and bustle of life in and around the soda fountain.

Of course, I've also built the requisite secret underground lair. It's just the thing one has to do. I don't make the rules...

It's a combination of "pimp-a-licious" and "functional". The problem with most underground lairs is that there is only really one secret underground lair design and construction company. Which has led to a certain laziness in progressive design. That, and most evil geniuses bent on world domination don't have much time or inclination to be directly involved in their lair development.

That's not the case with me, though. Anyone who has worked with me in any capacity knows that I'm a "hands-on" kind of guy. This is no different. It's my "lair away from lair", if you will, so it was important that I be involved in it's development.

And that leads us to the crux of this post. What, exactly, is in my secret underground lair?

For starters, there is a secret resort of sorts for my guests. What good is a secret underground lair if one can't entertain? Full suites, king-sized beds, LCD tvs, free movies on demand, fresh tropical fruit delivered daily. Both a shower and a tub...sometimes visiting evil geniuses just need a good soak at the end of a long day making demands of world leaders.

Then, of course, there are the conference facilities. Boring but necessary. And a very well-stocked (and well-staffed) kitchen and wine cellar. The chefs can pretty much make anything. Their bratwurst is amazing! but they also make a great rack of lamb in mint sauce. It just depends on my mood.

But what makes a truly great secret underground lair? Whatever I want, of course! I'm thinking bigger than "sharks with lasers." There'd be an amazing virtual reality room, which can simulate any situation in any environment. It's great for torturing prisoners by making them believe they are in the bowels of hell, or for simply taking a "virtual day trip" to Italy. I'm not an evil man and don't require much of the standard fare of the traditional secret underground lair. But I also realize that no lair is impenetrable, so it's important to have some defenses at my disposal.

There's a full recording studio, a full art studio (for visiting artists), and a full auditorium which can be used for pretty much any type of performance.

I have an awesome closet there with clothes for any occaision. If I need to sneak like a ninja and blend into the shadows of night in Los Angeles, I can dress as necessary. If I need to seduce a spy at a small bistro in Paris, I have 3-piece suits and expensive shoes. And, for those days of just hanging out on the island, I have a nice selection of Hawaiian shirts and board shorts.

There is no heliport or airstrip. In fact, there is only a very small patch of land where a helicopter could land, and that's only kept that way in case an emergency evacuation requiring non-standard transportation from the island was necessary. I can't give you too many details on how to get to and from the island, but you have to be physically present at the soda fountain for the trip to begin. It's complicated, but I've been able to use current technololgy to create a fourth dimension, allowing for a non-traditional form of transportation.

Pools, top telecommunication, a full recording studio...I've got it all there.
But the best part of the island? It's invisible! It can't be seen by the naked eye, by radar, or by satellite. Unless, of course, I choose to make it visible.
Which I shall do right now, for a very brief window of time. Want to see my secret lair on my secret island?

4 degrees 30'39.26 S
172 degrees 11'00.79 W

Hurry, before it's invisible again.

Allison's Moving

2006-02-28T12:16:00.000-08:00

In an effort to keep my one faithful reader, I've changed the formatting of the Soda Fountain back to it's previous state. Funny, but I consider this more of an eyesore than the updated one. It seems to me that if Blogger can accept HTML code, then I should be able to develop a completely unique skin for the Soda Fountain using Dreamweaver and import the code. That is, at least, my hope.

I think I told y'all early last year (in this post) about a dream I had in which Allison met me for coffee.

She's moving to LA, with her husband and new baby. She called me out of the blue about 3 weeks ago to tell me the news. I'm excited, but it's also weirding me out a little bit. It isn't that she's moving out that weirds me out, or even the dream. It isn't sexual tension, either.

Without making it overly complex, here is the issue. I always saw her as having the potential to be a great, great friend. The friendship never had the opportunity to be fully realized 10 years ago because I was quite the self-obsessed asshole, making very poor decisions, resisting maturity with an ease that defies definition.

I'd love for the friendship to have air to grow while she's out here. But the fact that we're grown and both married complicates things so much. I don't want to cause problems for either marriage in any way, shape, or form. I want to grow a friendship based on who we are now not who we were, who we thought we were, or how memories have distorted who the other was.

Patrick and Allison, welcome to LA. I hope the move went well.

No use crying over spilled mocha

2006-02-26T17:11:00.000-08:00

I’m sitting in a funky little cafe in Santa Monica, the sun is out, my wife is writing letters and sipping her chai tea latte. I spilled half of my mocha, which is sad on so many levels. The people are weird, the food is "all natural" (which means it was harvested by some woman with hairy armpits in some roof-top garden right here in Santa Monica), and the tree-huggers are out in full force. Life is good.

It seems to be quite the weekend to go to funky places in Los Angeles. Last night I went to a bachelor party for CJ, the producer and engineer for my vocals on the RWO CD. It was at a place in downtown LA called the Cabana Club. The food was good, the atmosphere was very upscale and a little snooty, the bar was amazing, but the deserts were below par. J was very much out of place...I'm just not a very hip and trendy guy. It's kind-of fun to go watch people at these places, but I inevitably end up thinking "soooo...you're 30 and THIS is your life? Going to a bar and being pretentious with a bunch of beautiful people?"

Hey, what fun is life if you can't be quick to judge?

There is just this thing in LA where everyone tries to pretend to be someone else. Go figure, a town full of actors trying to be someone else. Who would've guessed?

A Formal Apology to Tom and Brad

2006-02-23T11:34:00.000-08:00

I remember getting excited in seventh grade about the release of Boston's third album, "Third Stage". Yes, I know how uncool that is. What can I say...I was a little geeky nerd in seventh grade. It's an extremely wimpy album, and it hasn't exactly stood up to the test of time. It's overproduced, cheesy, wuss-rock. It especially sucks in comparison to their first two albums, which are still pretty decent. They're not records that changed the face of the world or defined a generation or anything like that, but they're not bad at all. "More Than a Feeling" is a great pop song, with a great melody and an incredibly catchy hook.

Anyway, back to the "Third Stage" album. In the liner notes of the record, there was a description of why it took four years to make the album. I remember reading it and thinking "What a crock! There's no reason an album should take four years! It just sounds like a bunch of excuses!"
Consider this my formal apology to Tom Scholz and Brad Delp. I was awfully quick to judge.I started working on RWOs next CD at the beginning of 2003. Three years later, it's still not done. And it's certainly not going to be done by March first, the self-imposed deadline. I’ve come a long way in the last 30 days, but not far enough. Thank God for Guns N Roses, who have been working on their Chinese Democracy CD for 13 years. They make me look like I'm working at the speed of light!

Oh, one more thing. While I apologize for judging so harshly while in seventh grade, I can't accept responsibility for the fact that they put out such a crappy album. Mr. Schulz, you're a very smart guy. Most graduates of MIT are. And I've heard you're a perfectionist.

Um...so, this album was your idea of "Perfection"? That makes me very sad inside. So very, very sad.

Where are you?

2006-02-17T14:14:00.000-08:00

There's gotta be a record of you someplace
You've gotta be on somebody's books
The lowdown; picture of your face
your injured looks
the sacred and profane
pleasure and the pain
somewhere your fingerprints remain concrete
and it's your face I'm looking for
on every street

Lady killer, regulation tattoo
silver spurs on his heels
he says "what can I tell ya as I'm standing next to you?
She threw herself under my wheels."
It's a dangerous road
and a hazardous load
And the fireworks over Liberty explode in the heat
and it's your face I'm looking for
on every street

This three-chord symphony crashes into space
the moon is hanging upside down
I don't know why it is I'm still on the case;
it's a ravenous town
You still refuse to be traced
seems to me such a waste
and every victory has a taste that's bittersweet
and it's your face I'm looking for
on every street.

~Mark Knopfler
"On Every Street"

Back In Town

2005-12-19T16:42:00.000-08:00

*J is behind the counter today. If you're in a Christmas Ice-Cream type mood, we made some great homemade Peppermint Ice-Cream this morning before we opened. It's pretty good and the kids in town really like it.*

...and, one scoop of Peppermint Ice-Cream for you. Everything tastes better when it's homemade, don't you think?

You know, I've been asked that question a lot today. It seems everyone who stops in today wants to know where ''ve been! The second-most-popular question today is "why are you open today?"

Well, that last one's the easiest one to answer. I'm open because this is a great time of year to be open! All the kids are out of school, the college students are home for the next couple of weeks...The Soda Fountain's a great place for old friends to meet and talk. And I love this season! I love seeing everyone who stops in and says "hi". I love hearing the stories that are told, reflecting on the year that has passed, and I just love being here. It's warm, it's comfortable, it's familiar, it's safe. I don't have nearly as many bar brawls as the Corner Tavern across the street!

But the first question, the one everyone is dying to know, isn't as brief. I swear, it's like I'm Willy Wonka and I just started up my factory again.

Man, how cool would it be to have a glass elevator that could go anywhere?

Truthfully, I've just been busy with other pursuits. You know, I inherited this soda fountain from my grandfather. In fact, our family has owned the building that the Soda Fountain and all these other shops sit in for the better part of a century. The income I get from renting out the space ensures that I don't have to work this place full time. Plus, the fact that the Soda Fountain isn't always open has been part of the mystique of the place. My grandfather started the tradition of closing for months at a time when he got older and started traveling the world. I think they were his two loves, this soda fountain and travel.

Everyone knew when he was back in town from some far-off land. The butcher's paper he'd use to keep prying eyes away would come off of the windows, he'd fire up all the lights and spend 12 hours with us boys washing and mopping and making sure the place was spotless. We'd spend some time making a couple of fresh batches of ice creams and sodas, and open the next day. By the end of our clean-up day, kids and adults alike would peer through the front windows at us working away. They'd knock and smile and shout something about seeing us tomorrow when we were open.

The difference between my grandfather and I is that his absences were exciting. Some of the stories he told about his trip to India were awesome. And, I'm sure, quite embellished. But me? Well...

I've been in the studio. The most exciting part about it is the fact that it's been Capitol Record's studio in Los Angeles. But that's about it. Truthfully, I'm happy to be taking a little break from recording for the next week. Oh, I have my homework to do. After I close the shop each day, I have to go through and listen to each of the 10 songs and make notes about how I want to produce it, mix it. All that jazz. But it's also great to be here, be back in the old home town. It's really great to see you.

When am I closing again? January third, give or take. I know, I know. It's an awfully brief time. But the GOOD NEWS is that I've got some great treats this week! I have recording time already booked back in Los Angeles at the start of the new year.

But let's just enjoy the time we have together over the holidays, huh?

Want a cup of coffee to wash down the ice-cream? It's on the house...

2005 In Review

2005-12-16T15:05:00.000-08:00

1. What did you do in 2005 that you hadn't done before?

I snorkeled. It was really cool.

2. Did anyone close to you give birth?

No…pretty much everyone who gave birth was very far away from me.

3. Did anyone close to you die?

No, it was the first year in a while that my friends all survived. Mostly because they stopped sky-diving with rabid pit-bulls.

4. Did you travel? Where did you go? Best holiday memory?

The Wife and I went to Hawaii in September. There are just too many awesome memories of our time there, but the best was probably sea-kayaking.

5. Best thing you bought?

I spent way too much money on studio equipment this year but none of it was a mistake. Best purchases are my ProTools Mbox 2 and my new heavy-duty workhorse-of-a-computer in the studio.

6. Where did most of your money go?

I funded a study by university students of predicting earthquakes with the common household blender. It was expensive, with negligible results.

7. What do you wish you had done more of?

Stalking local movie starlets. I really slacked off this year.

8. What do you wish you had done less of?

Playing tuba in the courtyard of my apartment complex at 3 AM. My neighbors have NO sense of humor. I just couldn’t stop myself…

9. What kept you sane?

Music. Listening and playing. And a lot of therapy.

10. What drove you mad?

My boss. He’s kind-of a boob.

11. What made you celebrate?

Honestly? Just being alive. And my dreams make me celebrate.

12. What made you sad?

My loneliness.

13. How was your birthday this year?

It was fine. Nothing to jump up and slap grandma about, but it was fine.

14. What political issue stirred you the most this year?

Politics in California…well, they’re just plain bizarre. Get a bunch of people in one place who aren’t willing to take responsibility when they should, and you have California.

15. Were you in love in 2005?

Yes. Except when I wasn’t. But then I was again, so it's all good.

16. What would you like to have in 2006 that you didn't have this year?

Mostly, I have everything that I need. The things that I want are inconsequential when I have what I need. Having said that, I’d like more job satisfaction. Oh, and continued progress on Artificial Heart, which is taking FOREVER to finish recording.

17. What date from 2005 will be etched in your memory and why?

The year was pretty consistent, and it was consistently “good”. There are a lot of great dates but none of them stand out over the others. I spent a day at Capitol Records recording studio, which was an amazing experience.

18. What song will remind you of 2005?

Impossible for me to answer. Music is the air I breathe. A brief list of the songs that rocked my world in 2005:
Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger – Daft Punk
Miracle – Foo Fighters
Such Great Heights – by both Iron and Wine as well as The Postal Service
You and I – Delirium
Jennifer’s Jacket – The Presidents of the United States of America

19. Compared to this time last year are you happier?

Much happier, thank you. Seriously, this last year has been 10 times better than any year in recent memory.

20. Biggest achievement this year?

Every step forward with Rhymes With Orange is a new “Biggest Achievement”. Continued addiction recovery is quite an achievement as well.

21. Biggest disappointment this year?

Not being able to work with Trent Reznor or David Gilmour.

22. What is the one thing that would have made you more satisfied?

Having my potential recognized at work with more challenging projects.

23. Best new person you met this year?

No one comes to mind…all my friends (old and new) are pretty damn awesome.

24. A valuable life lesson you learnt this year?

Sucking water into your car’s engine through an after-market air filter installed too low to the ground by the car’s previous owner is a very bad thing. Especially on a freeway on-ramp. In driving rain. With cars whizzing past. When the car was purchased less than 72 hours prior to this event.

Yeah, don’t do that. Try to avoid that at all costs, actually.

ChickyBabe Stops By the Pharmacy

2005-10-21T11:04:00.000-07:00

*the bell over the door jingles as a beautiful blonde steps into the pharmacy and towards the Soda Fountain*

“I knew I’d find you here on a rainy day like today” she said.

Oh, hey, ChickyBabe. How’s the unpacking coming along in your new house?

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. The rain makes me want to curl up on my couch and listen to some rainy-day CDs, but I moved my couch into my spare bedroom to make more space for the guests to mingle last night.”

Oh, hey, yeah. Thanks for inviting me to your little shindig! I think I told you last night that I’m a little shy and don’t go out with big groups of strangers often, but I had a really good time getting to know some of your neighbors. And it’s exciting to know that you’re within walking distance of the Soda Fountain. Maybe I can drop by sometime, see what’s going on over at your “nest”.

“Ooh, that was a BAD one, J. Hey, Soda Jerk, can I get a….oh! Hi, Craig! Can I get a latte?

“I didn’t get a chance to ask you last night, how’s the CD coming?”

Phillip and I had a three-hour rehearsal on Saturday that went really well. It looks like we’ll be recording the first weekend in November.

But I tell you, ChickyBabe, I only have nine songs that are currently ready to be recorded. I need to have at least ten. I have two more guitar riffs that could be developed into songs, but I’m running out of time. Phillip and I only have two more weekend of available rehearsal space before they close down for renovation. It’s an external deadline for which I hadn’t planned.

Basically, my task this week is to work those last two riffs into full songs before Saturday.

Throw on top of that the fact that I just changed recording platforms from Acid to the industry standard of ProTools, and I’m a little antsy. ProTools has about a billion times more power and better quality for what I’m doing, which is great and all, but I really wish I didn’t have to learn new software now and could just focus on recording.

Finally, I’m not sure my year-end bonus (which is funding the project) is going to be as much as I had hoped. We could run into financial issues when it comes time to press the discs for distribution. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it…

So, if there are days when you don’t see me at the Soda Fountain, it usually means I’m holed up in my home studio with an acoustic guitar working out chord progressions, melodies, harmonies, and lyrics.

What, is the latte not strong enough? It looks like you’re nodding off…get back to unpacking! Invite me over sometime…as long as it’s after March 15.

Downpour

2005-10-17T14:00:00.000-07:00

*the door to the pharmacy jingles and I head straight for the counter of the Soda Fountain*

Man! What a downpour out there! I’ll never understand why Californians are so afraid of the rain...I just love days like today.

I’m glad you’re here. I just spoke with my friend, the music producer. Man, am I naive.

Did you know that everyone uses pitch correction on vocals? Everyone. I’m a purist…this was a little shocking. Obviously, the flash-in-the-pan flavor-of-the-month artists use it. But I’d like to think that some of the bigger artists, who I respect, don’t use it. I was wrong. My friend gave me several examples of people who ooze talent and creativity and use pitch correction. People you’ve heard of, people who have been around and sold millions of albums.

It’ll be great to get his input on the project. Like anyone who takes great pride in his creativity, I’d much rather hear “this has so much potential” instead of “ummmm…all I can think to say is ‘no’.” Still, fresh perspective is always appreciated. And it’s a huge favor that he’s doing. Even if nothing comes of it in the sense that he connects me to everyone in the business and I get rich and famous, his feedback will allow me to further hone these songs.

I’m still as ambiguous about “fame and fortune” as ever, by the way. On the one hand, I’d love to be able to make some money off my talents. I’d love to be on stage, too. But the idea of touring endlessly for 10 years just to build a name and giving up all of the things that make my life so wonderful…well, that’s not very appealing.

Well, that’s about all I have time for today. Just wanted to stop by the Soda Fountain and say hi to the regulars. That, and they make the best Vanilla Cokes here.

Drink up!

Turn-offs (Part the Second)

2005-10-10T10:34:00.000-07:00

The awkward pause, lasting seconds but feeling like weeks, rings through the auditorium like only silence can. The crowd shifts in their seats as J stands uncomfortably on the stage, seemingly evaluating his decision to expose himself in front of so many people. A single cough pierces the silence.

Finally, J steps back to the microphone and clears his throat, saying:

3. Women with dark hair on their bodies where it shouldn’t be. This includes (but is not limited to) hairy armpits, mustaches, beards, hairy chests, hairy butts, hairy legs, and hairy feet. Now, my definition of “hairy” isn’t “a few hairs around the nipples.” I’m talking hairy like a Hobbit. Women with that much hair, well, they disturb me. Frighten me. And women that hairy generally don’t smell very good.

4. Speaking of which, intense body odor is a turn-off. Ladies, a little bit of “musk” during sexual congress is intoxicating. But sweating like you’re on a treadmill at the gym while giving off the accompanying odor is not enticing. If you’re going to shave to get rid of all that hair, you might as well shower and wash up, too.

Turn ons and turn offs (part the first)

2005-09-22T09:04:00.000-07:00

And so, we begin. The house lights dim, the audience shifts impatiently and anxiously in their seats. J takes center stage, under a single spotlight, and says into the microphone:

1. Wasps. Actually, the threat of being stung by any insect is a turn-off. Fear of injury just doesn't do it for me. Obviously, I’m not into S&M.

2. New-Age music. I don’t need to re-align my chakra, thanks.

You are the socket, I am the plug. Turn me on, baby. Turn me on.

2005-09-21T14:05:00.000-07:00

Back at the beginning of August, ChickyBabe invited me to tell the world my top ten turn-ons and turn-offs. A month and a half later, here we go.

Why so long to rise to the challenge, you ask? Well, it really boils down to one simple question; Do my parents and sister, who have this blog address and read on occasion, really need to know what turns me on? Good God, that’s a tough question to answer.

I mean, how badly do I want my family to know how perverted I am? Should I mention stuff about dressing up in girlie clothes? Or that I can only achieve release when thinking about dwarves and midgets?

Thankfully, those aren’t on any list I’ve ever made. So, we’re safe there. Still, how exposed do I want to be?

Well, tomorrow we begin. Why dish it out all at once? Especially given how verbose I can be.

Look out, world. I’m the cyber-guy standing on the cyber-street corner in the cyber-trench coat. Prepare to be awed.

Or, at least, slightly embarrassed. For me.

Hey, lay off. It’s cold out here.

More Pics for ChickyBabe

2005-09-11T01:48:00.000-07:00

ChickyBabe requested more pictures, so here you go. Hope you all enjoy.

Sunrise from the ship

Fanning Island - Paradise Found

Beach Hut

Babe and Boats

J's Feet in Paradise

Notes From Hawaii (Part the Fourth) - News from Da Cruze

2005-09-09T21:15:00.000-07:00

Well, it’s been an interesting day at sea.

I played Monopoly for the first time today. My hunch was correct…I’m no better at managing Monopoly money than I am real money. You can kiss my big Community Chest, Mrs. Moneybags!

The excitement started when we were having lunch. We spotted something orange and floating in the distance, something that looked about the size of a life raft. We told our server, and he advised us that he was sure it was nothing to worry about. We ordered our food and took him at his word.

About 20 minutes later, we felt the ship start to lean to the starboard…and lean hard. Further than we should have been leaning. We heard china crashing and breaking in the kitchen, we heard heavy thuds from items falling to the floor on the deck above…it was intense. The servers all looked a little afraid; it appeared that no one really knew what was going on. I kept a clear head in case this really WAS “Titanic, Part II”, but I was sufficiently concerned.

I looked back at our wake and noticed we were turning, and turning rapidly. This ship turns on a dime, which is pretty impressive! It’s no leaky dingy! Anyway, it was at this point that I was sure we were going back to take a closer look at said floating orange object. It really did look like some sort of raft to us when we saw it at first.

It was nothing. It turns out it was some kind of discarded air tank. The captain came on the PA system later and told us that he had notified the proper authorities of the object. We turned around (much more slowly this time) and continued on our way.

The final news of note has to do with laundry. Or rather, how frugal I can be. There was a note on our bed with a mid-sized paper laundry bag when we got back from dinner; the note notified us that they would wash whatever we could fit into that bag for $25. Laundry on the ship is not cheap, but we need to have some done.

You expect me to accept a challenge like that without really going for it? They had no idea who they were dealing with! I rolled everything that needed washing into tight rolls and fit $54 worth of laundry into that bag. Suckers! Yeah, that’s right.

Notes From Hawaii - Part the Third

2005-09-08T14:52:00.000-07:00

All beaches are not created equal. My Wife and I went to the beach on Tuesday and floated for about an hour in the warm clear water. The sand was beautiful and soft, and the water was as clear as can be. It was absolutely amazing. A storm was coming across the mountains while we were floating there…it was blue above us, blue around us, and misty and gray over the mountains. Phenomenal. It absolutely took my breath away.

All X Files episodes are not created equal. I stayed up way too late on Tuesday night watching the X files episodes I’d never seen before…shortly after midnight I realized I should probably get some sleep. Even if it did mean the cockroaches and black oil on the X Files might attach me.

Tired J is a real treat for The Wife. Oops.

All euphemisms for sexual congress are not created equal. Yesterday we “tubed the ditch”. This actually wasn’t a euphemism in my vocabulary until the day trip we took yesterday.

The sugar plantations used a ditch system built by cheap Chinese labor in the late 1800s to irrigate the sugar plants. It was dug by hand, including tunneling through several mountains. No explosives were used…they used pick axes and shovels. They would put one team of laborers on one side of the mountain, another team on the other side, and tell them to dig towards each other. Often they wouldn’t meet exactly in the middle, so you’d have a couple of 90 degree turns in the pitch black tunnels.

We jumped in the cool water up the mountain, grabbed a couple of innertubes, and floated down for about an hour. It wasn’t as exciting as kayaking, jumping off cliffs, or sliding down waterfalls, but it was relaxing and fun. I got to be the punk of the group and splash everyone. Hey, if you can’t make friends then make enemies. That’s my motto, anyway.

Today, we’re at sea. The Wife is sleeping in the cabin, feeling a little bit sea sick. I thought I’d take the time to come up to the coffee bar and write y’all. I miss you, my loyal readers. I cry out your name in the middle of the night, waking myself up disoriented and not knowing where I am.

Come back to me. We’ll make love by the fireplace like we used to.

Notes From Hawaii - Part the Second

2005-09-05T23:31:00.000-07:00

I’ve just received word that I can now unveil the identity of my Very Good Friend, on one condition. As long as her new name is always capitalized, we can dispense with the name that makes us sound like a 40-something gay couple (not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Drum roll please…..My Very Good Friend is…..

My Wife.

I know, I know. For those of you out there that have been to the Soda Fountain frequently, you already knew this. I’m just excited because it’s less typing. And I sound Heterosexual again. That’s a bonus for me.

We’re two days into the cruise…and it’s been awesome! My Wife and I are having a great time.

We slept very well the first night. After the guy next door stopped pounding his wife like a mallard duck.

We got up the next morning, looked out our window, and there was Hilo. That’s the big island, or so I’m told. We threw on our swimsuits and were off to our first “excursion”, sea kayaking.

Yeah, it was pretty amazing. We paddled about a mile across the sea to a river and then paddled up the river to a waterfall. I’d love to show you pictures, but our digital camera isn’t waterproof. My Wife and I paddled behind the waterfall then out underneath it and back to the group. We didn’t capsize once…yeah, we’re the shit like that.

We jumped over the side of the kayak and into the cool fresh water…the water was clear and beautiful. A few of us climbed a rope up the side of the rocky cliff, made our way over to the waterfall, and actually slid down the waterfall one by one. Water parks in Southern California can’t compete with that…it was awesome!

Then My Wife and I climbed back up the rope (we were the only two this time) to actually jump off the cliff. We got up there, looked down, and thought….wow, this is pretty high. I took a deep breath and gave a good jump. I honestly tried not to scream like a little schoolgirl, but I’m not sure I was successful. Still, it was a rush. More importantly, it solidified our status in the group as “The Crazy Ones.”

Our whole bodies ached from kayaking, so we laid low the rest of yesterday.

This morning we arrived at Maui. My Wife and I went ashore and up into the mountains to…well, how do I put this…to (basically) hang from a zipline several hundred feet above the forest floor and zoom from point A to point B.

It was quite a rush. We had some very cool guides, and I was actually able to video a run on one of the lines for the viewers at home. It’s too big to put online, but maybe you can come over when we’re back in town and I’ll show it to you? You’ll have to wait a couple of days…we didn’t exactly leave the house “spotless” when we left.

Tonight we watched the sunset over Maui. It was stunning.

I can’t believe I’m here…

P.S. As odd as it is, I miss Lil’ Shorty, MILF, Pinky, Orange, Brick, and Dutch Girl from the office. Hope you all are well.