Over the last two weeks, I have been inundated with and overly excessive amount of daily work activities which have kept from even thinking about my next entry here. It was one of the first times in my life where I was completely unable to fabricate some small piece of time to outlet a little creativity. For the most part, I have been pretty unhappy with how demanding life has been recently. There has been no shortage of obligations, commitments, and responsibilities. The incredible vacuum like sound of time being sucked right out of life has become the topic of discussion here.

This entry will definitely be more of a plethora of thoughts and happenings that have bestowed both positive and negative inspiration on me these last few demanding weeks. Based on pre-described rules I’ve mentioned in another post, I can’t discuss the near nazi-like, soul-clenching, life-draining demands of employment. Needless to say, the activities in the office have put a strangle hold on the neck of creativity for a many days. Just the amount of time needed in the day to meet deadlines was so excessive that I couldn’t even approach a topic shyly like a twelve year old at a junior high dance. To make matters worse, there was what is called a ‘Reduction in Force’ in the work place. Despite being worked like a pack mule, we were all waiting for our one-on-one meetings with management only to learn of our no longer needed useless skills sets. There is strange irony in working your ass off only to find out your position is a ‘surplus.’ To make a long story longer, I wasn’t reduced. This comes as both good and bad news. There’s a piece of me that needed the ultimatum to be reached. Then there is the responsible side that has the voice of my mother whispering in its ear about playing along and appreciating that I have steady income and healthcare from a global conglomerate.

Now that I’ve broke that rule, on to my next topic. I’ve mentioned that I am now the proud father of a soccer player. Son #1 is on a soccer team for four year olds called the Pandas. The name alone inspires fear in the masses, or at least scares the shit out of bamboo trees. To date, they have had a total of four practices which range in the volume of focus by the players and the amount of water breaks given by the coach. I have to keep reminding myself that these kids are only four years old. But I feel like we needed an hour (or ten) more of practice to explain some of the subtleties of teamwork and, I don’t know, maybe the game of soccer. So I volunteered to assist in keeping these hellions focused, enthused, and running. The first game has come and gone and if we were keeping score, I would estimate that the final score was 4-0. Pandas on the losing end of it. But because this is for ‘fun,’ we are not keeping score. I will say this based on my observations: While tough to communicate field boundaries, direction, teamwork, passing, competition, and the overall ‘feel’ of the game, the one thing that transcends and is totally understood is the purity of fun. Smiles. It is obvious in the Pandas’ smiles.



Next up: wedding anniversary. As a husband/male you are bound by some sort of rule set or societal obligation to fulfill some sort of ‘Oh he is such a sweetheart’ comment issued by your wife’s friends. I hate this pressure. When I am planning something for my wife or out shopping for her, I am constantly playing the ‘What did he do for you?’ track in my head. Because if your wife can’t answer this question with a beaming smile and equally beaming piece of jewelry or latest in fashion couture, you’re worthless drudge of slime found under the salty docks of the tide flats in Commencement Bay. Believe me, I’ve been there literally and philosophically. In the weeks leading up to our anniversary, I repeatedly thought about traditional and modern gifts and how I could assemble something meaningful that would successfully answer the above womanly questions, score me points with the wife in order to build credit toward my next two-wheeled purchase, and ultimately eclipse others and shine the light of inadequacy on the significant others of my wife’s friends. Good plan, right? Well, I had intended on multiple research and shopping days to execute on this plan. The Man got in the way with professional obligations, meetings, projects, and the general exercise of killing your creative soul. Needless to say, I nearly ran out of time but I was able to squeeze some research in on one day and then made five total stops during my lunch break and after work the next day. I couldn’t show up to my own anniversary without a gift(s). Crisis avoided. Wife happy and the anniversary was a good day.


The overarching theme here is about time or the lack of it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so consumed with every second of the day. They feel like they are just slipping through my hands. Think: cliché sands of time through your fingers here. I have always felt like I could handle everything thrown at me no matter the volume of responsibility or level of commitment. I would always find ways to milk a little more time out of the day. It’s like the enacting the Toyota philosophy upon my schedule management. For those of you who are not engineers or geeks like me, this is a reference to the Toyota manufacturing Lean philosophy of removing waste (not poop, but extra processes and useless handling) from the manufacturing system. As I grow up, I realize that it is a little more effort to manage the ever-slipping time resource. Man, where has the time gone.

On a positive note, I’m having a hard time feeling the effects of a downtrodden economy on my God-given ‘consumerial’ propensity to spend my hard-earned scratch on musical entertainment. That being said, I have a long list (read: spreadsheet) that continues to grow as I discover new music to add to our all ready expansive catalog. I seem to add music to the list faster than I can acquire it. Hence, the reason for the spreadsheet.

So I have decided to add a little bit of structure and form into my typically chaotic world of creativity. Now, I am pretty particular when it comes to music. Ask my wife about how I organize our catalog and she explain to you that my methods, while unorthodox, are completely unfounded and make no intuitional sense to anyone other than me. She is wrong. Read the past entries about our catalog and it totally makes sense. Anyway, back to the structure I mean to talk about.

I was talking to Son #1 the other night. I find his opinion on most of the stately issues around the house are pretty educated and spot on. I’d guess this is because he spends nearly every minute of his existence within the walls of his cage. We only let him out for feeding time and potty breaks. In the one-sided conversation, I brought up how Daddy has a plan for music in our house. He looked at me like, ‘What the hell is a plan, and why are you interrupting Yo Gabba Gabba.’ I explain to him that it’s important to have new music that we can enjoy and I am dubbing the last Monday of every month “New Music Monday” in our house. On that glorious day of existence, we will add new music to our catalog. He seemed unimpressed with my declaration and now was annoyed that I stood between him and the glowing digital screen of animated entertainment.

Yes. New music is released on Tuesdays from the industry. I know this and was reminded of this detail by my never-be-wrong loving partner. In my responsible young adult past, I used to refrain from attending pre-arranged educational settings (read: skip class) to be at Sam Goody, Musicland, or Budget Tapes to pick up that must-have album on its release date. Those places are gone these days. But we gots the internets now. So why not pick Tuesday? Well, it’s all about alliteration. New Music Monday not New Music Tuesday. It just doesn’t roll off the tongue. New Tunes Tuesday sounds like I should be watching the Disney Channel and pissing my pants over the Jonas Brothers. But more importantly, it is ‘new’ music being added to our catalog. This doesn’t mean it was just released and is the classic Merriam-Webster definition of ‘new.’ It could very well be this, but I am talking about ‘new’ to us.

Here is where I am going with this. If I’ve lost you in my rambling about Son #1, please let me steer you back on to the dilapidated track of my mind. On New Music Monday, I am going to procure new musical items for the catalog and plan delivering a creative yet compelling opinion of our latest addition for you, the reader. Why? One, I like to tell people what I think. Second, music is very important to MANY people in my life. I hope that I may be able to convey the slightest bit of inspiration to you and maybe influence you to try something new or consider something different when it comes to music. Besides, it’s pretty fun to talk about music anyway.

Don’t think of it as a review. I am not a professional musician or critic. I just know what I like and what resonates with me. At this point, you still must be confused where Son #1 fits into this decision. To be honest, I don’t really know. I just told him I was going to do this and he didn’t argue or whine about it. Knowing Son #1, this means that he doesn’t disapprove of it and by default, I consider this approval. So let’s go with that. So the plan is this: I completely intend on retaining my emotional right to continue to post my inner most thoughts and feelings on life’s impending disappointments. However, I am going to sprinkle in a little more editorial in the form of musical evaluation once a month.