Music is like a drug to me. One could argue that there’s some sort of chemical addiction that possesses and compels me to consume music in any form. My days of playing it are behind me, but my appreciation for its multiple forms are still very alive. Combine that with my penchant for listening to music at any stage of the day, and I’m a junkie. Consumption, entertainment, analysis, you name it, I’m hooked.

So it’s only appropriate that on ‘New Music Monday’ (a day late) that I review a record that I recently stumbled on to which is the aural listening equivalent to heroin. The damn thing is just so fun to listen to and is appropriately named considering my uncontrollable and unmediated need for musical fixes.

The Chicago based punk trio appropriately named Alkaline Trio recently released their latest studio album, “This Addiction.” And as I mentioned above, I’m hooked like a crackhead junkie. The album is infectious from beginning to end and the songs are all entertaining. The topics of the songs are nothing new or original. Relationships and breakups. But hey, that’s what makes this record universal. It’s not like they’re doing innovative but it’s catchy, fun to listen to, and not ‘heavy’ or weighted down by message or music.


Alkaline Trio has been around for sometime but for one reason or another, I’ve never been really into them. “This Addiction” is their seventh studio album in the last 12 years. That, my friends, is longevity. After hearing the first single, I thought to myself, “Self, these dudes play music you like.” So after picking up “This Addiction,” I picked up three of their older releases. Each one is great in its own right. But what makes “This Addiction” better is the fact that the band released this on their own label allowing for a slight bit more creative freedom. The result? Success and a very entertaining record in any circumstance.

“This Addiction” contains some great songs; starting with the title track linking a relationship to the metaphor of a heroin addiction. While that sounds a little dark to some of you ‘purer’ readers, consider the analogy. In all honesty, how many of us are ‘addicted’ to the significant other in our lives? Whether functional or dysfunctional, we all feed of the chemical dependency of love (or drama) in our relationships. The album is short with only 11 songs all about three minutes long. So one would think there is not much to pick from. On the contrary, picking three songs off of the album was somewhat challenging as I enjoyed them all.

Dead on the Floor – I love the bass line in this song. It’s all over the place and makes the song even more musically interesting to listen to. But from a concept, a song about a relationship failure isn’t a new topic. But as humans, we all look for someone suffering worse than us. The classic misery loves company mantra. In an ironically factual lyric about miscommunication in relationships, “When you asked me if I’d stay forever. Guess you meant just for the week.”

Eating me Alive – While only being a trio, this song has keys and some crazy below-the-radar doo-wop voices added during recording. Musically, the song is very simple and formulaic in its layout. But it’s totally the Cure meets the Talking Heads which makes it great. And this just in, another song about a failed relationship.

Piss and Vinegar – The title of this song makes it an instant classic.



As a veteran of the Vans Warped Tour, you can’t go wrong with any album from Alkaline Trio. All are great. I personally like “This Addiction” and “Agony & Irony” the best. They aren’t a super-polished pop band easy on the ears. There’s an appreciated edginess to the lead singer’s voice and the music. Furthermore, listening to it infects you with the punk edginess. As a matter of fact, we were listening to the album while making dinner the other evening when Son #1 turned to me nonchalantly and mused, “This song makes me want to jump off of the couch.” He then continues on in a more subtle whisper, “Too bad my mom is here.” Do you need another reason to listen? This isn’t politically charged or angry anti-authority punk. This is sunny-summer-where’s-my-skateboard-because-I-want-to-shred-the-local-shopping-mall-parking-lot-because-my-girlfriend-dumped-me music. Or, it’s I-want-to-jump-off-the-couch-because-it-seems-like-the-right-thing-to-do music.

I like sports. Always have. I’ve played on teams where my contribution was needed and played on teams where my presence wasn’t necessarily evident or maybe more negative in fashion. I’ve participated in sports where you are the only one responsible for successes and failures and participated in sports where I had no business being.

All that being said, I am a huge fan of sporting events and entertainment. With the start of the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver, B.C., I’ve been absolutely beside myself with the utmost of school girl giddiness. I love the Olympics. Everything from the tantalizing expectations leading up to the event, to the Opening Ceremonies, to the first trainwreck of an athlete getting kicked out of the Olympic Village, to the sweet taste of American medals, to the final closing comments and the anticipation of the next games.

One thing I hate; media coverage. I can see B.C. from my doorstep and I can’t get live media coverage? NBC makes me want to impale myself. This media conglomerate (see: NBC-Universal-Comcast-Xfinity-You-Are-Under-Our-Control-Corporation) thinks by controlling the broadcast of the Olympiad, the peppering of McDonald’s and P&G advertisements, and the uncountable interviews with pre-Olympic injured athletes, that I’m OK with missing the action in real time.

Apparently, I am not the only one who wants the heads of NBC officials:
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/ronjudd/2011098934_judd17.html

Anyway, I’ve been geeked out for weeks waiting to watch them. The opening ceremonies didn’t disappoint. It was no Beijing but then again, Canada doesn’t coerce its population into succumbing to a Communist Regime for the sake of a Dog and Pony show. I liked the intimacy of the Opening Ceremonies as well as their technological achievements in digital projection. But what I really wanted to see was all of the winter sport. Still, despite the network broadcast shortcomings, I’m an addict. Let’s talk some events here that I like. And I’m no media spinning, propaganda belching reporter, so you will get my feelings and not some overbearing dramatization.

Short Track Speed Skating
A wall of three South Koreans separated Apolo Ohno and teammate J.R. Celski from medaling. The spill of two of the South Koreans opened the door for Ohno and Celski to medal Silver and Bronze respectively. I am not a big fan of speed skating or going around in circles but I do appreciate the intensity of short track racing, the sharp elbows of the competitors and a good wad up. It’s like roller derby on blades but with out the slinky costumes and black eyes.


Men’s and Women’s Moguls
I was bummed out when local Patrick Deneen wrecked while trying to go big on his last jump. His competition had scored extremely well so the pressure was on to bring it. Unfortunately, the Olympic Gods did not support his plight and he went down. But such is this in sport, go big or go home. He went for the win and while not getting it, he embodied everything that is great about our US athletes. Heart to win.


On the women’s side, the race was tight and the Canadian incumbent, Jenn Heil, was the odds on favorite to win gold. Well, until Hannah Kearney rocked a flawless run in cleanup. In 2006, she sucked. In 2010, she was golden. Kearney had something to prove and went out and did just that. She had the fastest time and biggest tricks. Kearney snatched the gold right away from the incumbent through her dominance and not playing it safe.


Men’s and Women’s Snowboard Cross
This is probably my favorite event of the winter Olympics for many reasons. Most significantly, I snowboarded for a long time and the sport is near and dear to my heart. I always felt that it was my generation that assisted its growth into mainstream. Also, the course reminds me of a freeride MTB trail. Drops, gaps, and high berms are the stuff I dream about. And lastly, the race is about speed and style.

Seth Wescott made a huge comeback win to beat the competition during the finals. He was so far behind that he would have had to dial long distance to reach the leader. But in an shrewd, precise fashion, one by one, he made his way to the front of the pack to take gold. To make it more impactful to our nation, he carried his grandfather’s U.S. flag who served in WWII and has past away. Family and patriotism.


On the women’s side, I thought Lindsey Jacobellis would have learned from her mistakes in 2006. She had gold locked up in the Turin Olympics but pulled a bone-headed hot dog move on the last step down. That time, her landing was sketchy and she wadded up ultimately grabbing the silver instead of gold. This year, it wasn’t her style that got her, it was fate. Unfortunately, during her semifinal heat, she stumbled on a landing trying to avoid the competition and went off course. This resulted in a disqualification. It’s unfortunate fate for a star that revolutionized the sport for women.


Leave it to the media to rain on her more in her disappointment. Read this jack ass’s perception of her:
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/jerrybrewer/2011099429_brewer17.html

Olympics Medal Counter


Now I am waiting for the halfpipe competition to support the sports current generation of athletes. No live TV coverage though. It’s a shame that the CBC lost its Olympic contract and now us Seattle folks have to deal with a media conglomerate. Oh well, it would be easier to drive up and see it real-time, then drive home and watch it again on NBC. NBC continues to deny the fact that West Coast viewership wants to see it live. The idiots think that more people will enjoy watching tape delayed, packaged and edited curling and ice dancing. I love sports, but not on NBC.

One thing my wife and I have talked about over the years is the need for a person to exist in a ‘comfortable’ place. And when I say place, I don’t mean physical surroundings. I’m referring to the metaphysical place of existence for spiritual beings. Comfort in your skin, if you will. For example, we all grow up change clothing styles, change our hair, try to be preppy, try to be a jock, try to be Goth, whatever. We changes friends, change cities, and change our thinking along this path of discovery of self identity. We’ve watched this in both ourselves and our friends. Self identification is a funny thing. Most people don’t like who they are so they stay in constant motion to try and become ‘who they are supposed top be.’ I’m not being judgmental here. I’m no different.

Over the last five years I’ve been inarguably returning to my inner teen. If you are following on the calendar, this directly coincides with the knowledge of the impregnation of my wife with our first born son. Now, my wife would have you know that I’ve always been grounded in a little immaturity, both in appearance and in behavior far earlier than that. In fact, we stopped at a bar in our old neighborhood of Belmont Shore a few years back. The bouncer imperatively asked, “ID?” My wife was flattered until the happenstance of this event actually registered with her that it was me, and not her, that was being requested of said ID. In her defense, our ages are not significantly different. Yet, my board shorts, Fox tee shirt, and backwards cap may have had something to do with the inquisition.

All appearances aside, I typically gravitate toward more youthful interests. It’s just my thing. But I think this characteristic is a function of what I’m speculating at here. It’s that we all gravitate toward the comfortable points in our lives. We’re always trying to find who we are, and along the way, the light clicks on and its beams are shed on that period where you felt the most comfortable in your skin. Strangely enough for me, it was when I was an angst ridden and confused adolescent skateboarder.

As my interests and behavior come full circle and settle back into my early teen years, I find old memories resurfacing and a need to resuscitate some of the old me. It’s not that I had it all figured out then (or now for that matter). It just felt good to be alive. Now in this phase of my life where I’m a father figure, I’m channeling the old spirits of me to validate this new existence. Not to misconstrue my feelings on my current life, what makes it great is that the past spirits are actively involved in this new existence. I’ve settled back in to the punk rock skater that defined me as a youth.

As you re-embrace old interest/habits/vices, it’s important to have a supporting cast. My wife has been hugely supportive in my excavation of the early teen me. She advocated my purchase of a new skateboard five years ago, smiled as I skated off to work and laughed under breath, and she snapped pictures of our boys standing on my board as they grew. More importantly, she patiently listened as I blasted kids these days trying to skateboard, not understanding the history and the sacrifices, and using it as an image.

In that early teen stage, skateboarding was my basis of existence. Everything revolved around the next hand rail, launch ramp, or shred session. School, homework, girls, family, and even eating were behind skating. I have so many great memories from that era of my life. As cliché as it is, these memories are a coming of age story where I was learning about how the world viewed me. In the mid 1980’s, skateboarding was not fashionable. We were outcasts and defiant youth. That got us in to trouble but it also strengthened our resolve. We didn’t need to be ‘accepted.’ I learned early on that peoples’ dismissive thoughts were nothing more than their perception and not my reality. As long as I was honest and committed to myself, the world would begin to comprehend the true identity of my existence. Skateboarding gave me an outlet and irrefutable evidence that I can define my own identity and not have to exist in a predetermined rule set categorized by detractors.

So my new thing, while rediscovering my comfortable self, is trying to obtain the old skate decks I rode over the years. However, this is no small order as both the industry and the world have changed. I’ve been casually looking around and have come up pretty empty handed. There are two big challenges here: One, I can’t remember all of the decks I’ve ridden. And two, how can I find decks that are from an era long since past? Is this really a value-added activity in my home? Probably not, but it is yet another reason to create an elaborate spreadsheet to capture research information, availability, and pricing.


While my excavator efforts in reclaiming the depths of my action sports history may have no relevance on your life, I caution you in prematurely writing off my madness. Take a step back and consider what I am suggesting here. We, as adults, have settled in a ‘stage’ that is reminiscent of a life in our past. This postulate may not be entirely true for everyone. Some people just grow old and become curmudgeons who wear Birkenstocks and socks and whine about the youth of today and their parents. Those folks just try to avoid being happy anyway. But most of us, the free thinkers, the livers, and the vibrant souls, have grown up but not old. We have found something at our core that brings us peace and we treasure that. It’s a small thread of a great woven fabric that makes up our existence. It’s why there are cougars. It’s why grown men wear professional sports jerseys. It’s why adult women read teenage vampire stories. It’s why 35 year old boys skateboard. There is a piece of purity and immaturity in all of us from years back that we embrace.

When I started this blog, I had four cardinal rules to follow. The first, never to name names. I didn’t want to single out people or draw attention to those who didn’t like the spotlight. The second rule was to ‘try’ to keep my entries less than 1000 words. Not doing so well with this one. The third was to use music to compliment the blog entry and capture the theme. The final rule was to never discuss work on this platform. This was basically for the same reason as the first rule. Furthermore, my current employer believes that its disjointed and damaged reputation is a function of its underlings blogging and Tweeting the company news to the outside world thus influencing the media to slant its opinions in a less than favorable direction. Yes, that MUST be it and not the blatantly obvious planning and execution dilemmas plaguing the company or the obvious avoidance of full disclosure of information to the news media within an appropriate time frame.

I decided that while my employer struggles to right itself and threatens the employment of the hardworking underpinnings holding this rickety mess together, I would buy a new automobile. A wiseman might ask ‘Why would you buy a new car with the potential of job loss?’ Ironically, it’s the one element in all of the chaos that I can control. It would be an understatement to say that I’m obsessive about decisions I make in life. My wife would probably characterize me as being a tangled neurotic mess of nerves and Microsoft Excel spreadsheets. That’s not too far from the truth. So this thread is more about how I make my uniquely insane, yet educated, decisions and less about the purchased vehicle.

Interestingly enough, it started with an internal dialogue where I convince myself that I need something new. I was driving somewhere for some reason and was annoyed with traffic and the fact that I wanted to drive in a faster/slower/louder/quieter/lower/higher/your attribute here/ vehicle. Once I get to this point, it’s useless to consider any other responsibilities. I end up becoming so consumed by my current vehicular dilemma I generally forget about birthdays, anniversaries, and changing Son #2’s excrement-laden diaper. For this purchase, there were approximately seven unique prospects in different categories and segments that fell in and out of favor over the last two years.

Before I even drove any of the prospects, I began the careful assembly of the greatest financial analysis toolset to support my decision. I like to create spreadsheets to analyze and review stuff. I have spreadsheets for everything from the NPV of household expenses, to ROI on electronics, to long-term investment analysis on family financial status, to bike jump trajectory sensitivity analysis, to Son #2 name/meaning decision trees. I think you get the picture. The latest exercise started with a simple worksheet that outlined financing terms of an auto loan. Then it grew.

I added pull down menus for decisions. Then, fair market value sensitivity for the trade-in vehicles was added. I added dynamic real-time credit terms. The list of vehicles was expanded to include the seven vehicles but with various trim levels, configurations, and respective pricing. This data fed right back into the financial model through the menu driven system. Next was a sensitivity analysis piece which was driven off of the user decision matrix to illustrate the various lending scenarios paired with trade-in/down payment scenarios. All of this was controlled by a simple front end that accessed all of the decision variables on the back end. The goal here was to simulate as many financial scenarios possible for each vehicle.

Time to drive the vehicles and build in a performance metric to help influence decision making. The experience driving the cars is outside the scope of this post. Just know that I may now be on Johnny Law’s radar for neurological harassment of local automotive sellers. I went back and ‘refined’ (read: obsessed over) the spreadsheet. The driving experience and the spreadsheet narrowed the search to a two-vehicle race. Based on my value-indicating, financial-prognosticating, penny-pinching, performance-evaluating, number-obsessing spreadsheet, I finally decided on a vehicle.

The dealership provided eight different options of this vehicle because of my option configuration was impossible to satisfy. I had to make a sacrifice. I needed to build a second financial model spreadsheet for these eight versions. Each one had its own worksheet with its own financial model in the image of my first evaluation tool. This version then factored in manufacturer rebates and refined the trade-in scenario based on the current administration sales tax incentives. On this spreadsheet, I had a summary page which evaluated and scored all of the performance metrics of the vehicles, the positives and negatives of each, the dollars spent per positive and negative attribute, and every other metric I could think of to attach some sort of ‘score’ to. At the end of it all, all eight vehicles had a normalized ‘score’ based on all of the metrics. The top three scores became my three choices.

A deeper evaluation had to be done. Three different vehicles with three different prices and option compromises. Stay with me now, in the second spreadsheet, on each worksheet for my three final choices, I created one more sensitivity analysis based on trade-in and down payment. At this point, I knew my financing and potential cost of ownership. Now I just needed to determine how much the dealer ‘will’ give me for my trade-in. Financially, (trust me here) it made the most sense to trade-in a vehicle and receive the economic tax benefit rather than sell the vehicle outright and put a larger payment down. There was a ’tipping’ point and I had to make sure the dealer gave me a fair market value where I would get the best trade-in assessment.

Long story even longer, I’m the proud owner of a new family mode of transport. Gone is my motorized partner of the last eight years. Am I any more relaxed now that this is behind me? Who knows. But I will say this: at least I can commute to my potentially terminal place of employment in style and not-so-eagerly await the notification of the lack of need of my marketing services. If I am out of work in the future and you are in need of a 10GB spreadsheet that will thoroughly calculate your weekly Starbuck’s bill, I’m your guy.

Until this, I had yet to find the appropriate moment and subject to grace this blog with an entry in this New Year. Since my last posting here, we have been adjusting to the reduction of holidays and increase in mouths in our house. While natural in its occurrence, having an infant in the house is challenging and tiresome, even if it is your second child.

Son #2 does not like to sleep. When it is time to crash out for the evening, he likes to do what I so endearingly call, ‘riding the donkey.’ This terminology was coined on an international trip to the tropical isle of Jamaica. Briefly, a cohort and I came up with this phrase in one of our deeply insightful conversations stimulated by about a case of indigenously crafted rum. At some point in the evening, you hit the proverbial wall. It is then and only then, that you dig deep and find that one ounce of resiliency to power through the urge to take a dirt nap. Back to reality. Son #2 has the innate ability to summon his inner demon, saddle up and 'ride that donkey' with the greatest of commitment. So much so that it unties every thread of patience of your parental existence. Eventually, after hours of calming, coaxing, and pacifying, Son #2 gives in. But then, he is back up to eat again in a few hours. The sleep habits of Son #2 add to the challenge of being alive.


Now that the holidays are over, I have had the pleasurable experience of returning to my place of work. It comes at the opportune time when there is a need for a new balance to occur. With that, comes the concern for Son #1. He has had my uninterrupted attention for the past few weeks. Well, at least he has had my attention when I was not totally hypnotized by the phenomenon that is Lego Star Wars. Going back to work, left him alone to fend off his mother. More importantly, would my wife have the energy to handle both Son #1 and #2 on their worst of days? So far, so good. Every day is a work in progress yet Son #1 seems to be adjusting well to being the older brother and the man of the house while I am out. Still, Son #1 presents a volatile volcano of passion and spite. You have to be ready.


I welcomed the employment routine back in to my daily life cycle. Going into work has its feeling of contribution to the economy. Maybe I am making the world better. The work week was marked with returning to the intellectual speed of thought required to be productive in the workplace. This is challenging after spending the past two weeks with Lego Star Wars, playing as Obi-Won and trying to rid the universe of Clones. As the week progressed, I eased my way back in to professional responsibility. By Friday, I was ready for the weekend as most people are. But as life generally goes, I was thrown a curve. It was official. A company wide message was received outlining the head count reductions coming in Q1 and Q2. It was described that natural attrition and retirement would not reach overhead cost controls alone. This means layoffs. The number, location, and date of the reductions were loosely outlined. While nothing is certain, I must be realistic and believe that my position may be a victim of this reduction. Strangely, I am calm and poised with the message. Especially given the seriousness of the effect this could have on my family. Two sons, a wife, and pets. Not to mention the numerous bills and financial obligations. There is a magnitude to this news, yet I have found myself not overly emotionally about it. I am worried and concerned. However, I have found some sort of peace in chaos through the years of my life.

It is in the terror of change and disruption, I find clarity and direction. I have never found it easy to make life changing decisions when the seas of life are calm. It is in the stormiest of squalls I find that I have the uncanny ability to craft my best decisions and execute my greatest performance goals. The news of potential job loss still comes as a surprise and raises alarm. The timing of this with the economic climate could cause serious changes in lifestyle and stress levels of our household. Today was marked with considering my options, reconnecting with network associates, and playing Lego Star Wars. My employment has never defined me. Yet I am strangely ambitious and find major satisfaction in the intellectual challenges of a profession. It is that which has made me pursue advanced degrees, intriguing employment positions, and intellectual challenges. Ultimately, professional challenges offer an element of uncontrollable chaos in life. The news of change never comes at a convenient time but always comes at the universally appropriate time. The company message on Friday was a re-education that my employment is not the definition of my life. But my employment creates the experiences in my life where I can understand more about my character and what matters most to me. Son #1, Son #2, my wife, my dog, and the cat sometimes. I can’t lose my job; I want to spend obscene amounts of money on bike parts, A/V equipment, and a new car.