Thirty-Seven
I am now thirty-seven years old; I achieved this incredibly uninteresting milestone on Sunday. For some reason, turning thirty-seven has given me great pause. Turning thirty really didn’t bother me, it just felt weird saying it, the way it felt coming out of my mouth, just a different feeling than twenty-something. Turning thirty-five was a little different as it meant moving out of that coveted eighteen to thirty-four demographic. However, for some reason, turning thirty-seven seemed to really stick in my craw.
I don’t think it’s so much that I feel “old” as it is that I feel “older,” if that makes any sense. I think what keeps me from feeling old is that I don’t have interests that associate with being old, whether that’s true or not in reality, is of course up for debate. I love comic books and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and music and standup comedy and preparing and eating food. My non-work wardrobe is made up of jeans, cargo shorts, hoodies, & t-shirts. Most of my t-shirts either reference BJJ, comics, or bands. This is not in an effort to cling to my youth, this is what I like & what I am comfortable in.
What I have found harder to hold on to or to attain as I have gotten older is physical fitness. When I started training in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu almost five years ago I was overweight and out of shape. Through changes in diet a ton of cardio and as much BJJ I could fit in I shed roughly forty pounds. I have noticed in recent months that I was starting to gain a bit of weight, not a ton, but enough for me to take my most slim fitting or clingy material comprised t-shirts temporarily out of rotation. My biggest roadblock has always been my love of food. I really do love to eat and most of what I love to eat is not very good for you. I try to restrict what I eat during the day during the week, but a lot of times my habits go to hell in a hand basket on the weekends.
In an effort to combat this I have added a three times weekly “core shredding workout” provided by a friend who is a personal trainer and attending a Bikram Yoga class once a week to my work out schedule. I have also started drinking roughly 160 ounces of water a day to combat any water retention. I am also trying to grill as much as possible and to limit eating out and desserts. I am hoping the end result will be a flatter stomach, stronger core, stronger lower back, and increased flexibility. I’m only in my second week of this new program, so time will tell.
The other thing that has started to eat away at me is the question of; what am I going to do with the rest of my life. In all sense of the term, I think it is very safe to say that I have entered what is known as “middle age.” How is my life going to go from here, what do I want to do with the time that I have left? Where do I want to go, what do I want to see and do? Am I doing the most to ensure that the second half will be better than the first? There are so many places I want to see and so many things I have yet to experience. I certainly didn’t think I would be where I am at this point in my life when I was; say my fourteen year old daughter’s age. In some ways I have seen and experienced so much more than I thought that I would, in others, I’m quite disappointed in myself, if I’m honest.
So many unanswered and unanswerable questions dog me regarding what comes next, so much so that it has almost paralyzed me when I try to wrap my head around it all. This is of course the entirely worst possible thing, to be so frozen that one does nothing. I am trying to keep what I have attempted to make my motto since my Father’s passing stay front and center in my mind; be better. Every year my New Year’s Resolution is the same; be better, be a better husband, father, son, friend, martial artist, PERSON. At the end of every year I always feel that I have failed in this quest. That maybe I have moved the needle the slightest bit, but how woefully inadequate of change that is. Every year I say the same; Be Better Tour (insert year here,) train keeps a rollin’, tougher than a coffin nail. And in my heart of hearts I believe this, I believe that I will be better and do better and grow. It just doesn’t seem to work out that way. I know the blame for this falls squarely on my shoulders. I know that I am the sole reason that I am so disappointed in myself.
So here I am, thirty-seven, with so much more to see and do, with half a life left to go. So now what, what comes next? I just don’t know yet. And
that, that is what is making thirty-seven so different, so difficult, that I
just don’t know what should or will come next.
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Becoming a Man, what it means to be a Father
With Father’s Day rapidly approaching I’ve been thinking a
lot regarding what it really means to be a Father and when you really become a
man. I don't think I really became a man until my Dad died which is sad and
stupid and fucked up, but that’s the way it is, if I’m being honest, which I’m
trying to be.
One of my favorite examples to give, when people ask what
being a Father means, or of how my Dad was is the time I moved to New Jersey. I
was 18 years old and dating a woman who was 22 and I was totally and completely
infatuated with her. She had already graduated college and I was halfway
through my first year and not doing a very good job of it. I was too involved
with going to goth clubs with my friends and exploring the NYC goth scene to do
things like go to class and write papers.
I dropped out of school because it was interfering with
spending time with her and with my working shit menial jobs to make money to
move in with her. She eventually got kicked out of her place up in Port Chester
and moved back in with her mother in South Jersey. I would work all week at
Costco, then take the LIRR into Penn, walk to Port Authority and take the two
hour bus trip down to Cherry Hill every Friday, spend the rest of Friday and
all of Saturday with her and be back in NY in time to work the closing shift on
Sunday. It totally fucking sucked.
We started looking for places together and everywhere in
North Jersey or NY was too expensive. All the way my Father kept trying to talk
me out of moving in with her and into going back to college. I wouldn’t listen
and we argued often. We eventually found a place in South Jersey and were committed
to moving in together. Despite their misgivings, my parents helped me pack, rented
a minivan, and drove me down there. Once down there they took us to Bed, Bath,
& Beyond and bought some things for us. We said our goodbyes and they were
off.
While I was there, my Dad would send me care packages; video
tapes of Giants games (when they won), and news clippings pertaining to the Giants,
and any news clippings pertaining to the Islanders. He would call me often, not
to hound me, but to keep in touch. When things started going bad he tried to
council me.
Finally, it was at a point when things were not going to get
better and he said “Christopher, just come home, I’ll take the for sale sign of
your car, all you have to do is go to school. Just come home.” When I finally
agreed, he again rented a minivan, drove down to South Jersey, helped me pack,
and took me home.
Being a parent is trying to prevent your children from
making mistakes, realizing when you can’t stop them, and being there to help
them stand up, and dust themselves off when they do. He never rubbed it in my
face, he never hit me with an “I told you so,” he just told me how proud he was
of me for realizing my mistake and coming home. And how happy he was I was home and how much
he loved me. He even repainted my room and had my Mom get me new curtains and
bedding.
I would make a lot more mistakes and he would do
a lot more helping me up and dusting me off. He was the BEST, end of story and I'll
never measure up, and I'm cool with that. But he loved me so much; he never
gave up on me. He was the only one, other than Erin, who never gave up. And it
took him dying, for me to really fully become the man he saw in me. What I’m
not cool with is him being gone and I’m not OK with him not getting to see the
man I’ve become. I love you Dad, with all my heart, always and forever.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Keeping It Real (Trying To Anyway)
I have been trying very hard to go very hard at anything not work related, to keep my head in the game. Reading whenever I can (not just comics, I swear), working out every day, grilling as often as I can, training BJJ at least twice a week (wishing my work schedule would allow for more), trying to write more, listening to as much music as I can, going to five shows in the next four months (Alkaline Trio, The National, Half Moon Run, Depeche Mode 2x). I haven’t taken the bike out yet but I am definitely getting the itch to hit it. I want to bake more, but that would mean eating the stuff which would be counterproductive!
I’m trying not to lose myself. I feel like that has been the big fear with me ever since I started working “real jobs” in other words jobs outside of retail. I feel like when I was young, early to mid-twenties and working in retail, it didn’t matter; the fear wasn’t there because I knew I wouldn’t be doing that bullshit for the rest of my life. I had so much other stuff going on, I was just SO creative that SOMETHING was going to hit. Either the writing in one form or another, the music in on genre or another, the acting, or I was going to cling desperately to one of my many talented friends coattails as they gleefully dragged me along for the ride.
Surprise, none of that happened. And you get to a point where you just have to move on with your life, you just have to do what you have to do to pay the bills and live the kind of existence you want to live. To not struggle to pay your rent or mortgage and to not worry if you can afford to buy new clothes for your daughter once she outgrows the ones she has or the seasons change.
So that’s what I did, I started working in office jobs with an unfortunately brief detour into the culinary/small business owner’s world, and then back into an office. And this where you really start to get that fear that you are your job, you don’t want to be, you certainly don’t identify that way, but it’s often the first thing someone will ask. So, what do you do? As if this was the most important part of one’s life?
Yes, being an Office Manager for at an IT firm is what I do to make money. This, however, is the last thing I would use to describe myself. Hell, look at my brief twitter bio: “Husband, father, BJJ Blue Belt, Pastry Chef, Straight Edge, food/music/film/comic book/stand-up junkie.” It doesn’t even make the damn cut. And if I extended it, it still wouldn’t; son, brother, uncle, nephew, friend, & writer would all make the list of descriptors first.
Yet I still have that fear that drives me so hard, that uneasiness that I am losing parts of myself that I am conforming that I am letting go or giving up. Not me, no fucking way, not this devout follower of the Church of Rollins. I have no interest in either burning out or fading away. I do what I do to take care of my responsibilities, but that which I do to earn a living will not & cannot define me; I won’t allow it.
Be Better Tour 2013, Train Keeps Rollin’, Tougher Than a Coffin Nail
I’m trying not to lose myself. I feel like that has been the big fear with me ever since I started working “real jobs” in other words jobs outside of retail. I feel like when I was young, early to mid-twenties and working in retail, it didn’t matter; the fear wasn’t there because I knew I wouldn’t be doing that bullshit for the rest of my life. I had so much other stuff going on, I was just SO creative that SOMETHING was going to hit. Either the writing in one form or another, the music in on genre or another, the acting, or I was going to cling desperately to one of my many talented friends coattails as they gleefully dragged me along for the ride.
Surprise, none of that happened. And you get to a point where you just have to move on with your life, you just have to do what you have to do to pay the bills and live the kind of existence you want to live. To not struggle to pay your rent or mortgage and to not worry if you can afford to buy new clothes for your daughter once she outgrows the ones she has or the seasons change.
So that’s what I did, I started working in office jobs with an unfortunately brief detour into the culinary/small business owner’s world, and then back into an office. And this where you really start to get that fear that you are your job, you don’t want to be, you certainly don’t identify that way, but it’s often the first thing someone will ask. So, what do you do? As if this was the most important part of one’s life?
Yes, being an Office Manager for at an IT firm is what I do to make money. This, however, is the last thing I would use to describe myself. Hell, look at my brief twitter bio: “Husband, father, BJJ Blue Belt, Pastry Chef, Straight Edge, food/music/film/comic book/stand-up junkie.” It doesn’t even make the damn cut. And if I extended it, it still wouldn’t; son, brother, uncle, nephew, friend, & writer would all make the list of descriptors first.
Yet I still have that fear that drives me so hard, that uneasiness that I am losing parts of myself that I am conforming that I am letting go or giving up. Not me, no fucking way, not this devout follower of the Church of Rollins. I have no interest in either burning out or fading away. I do what I do to take care of my responsibilities, but that which I do to earn a living will not & cannot define me; I won’t allow it.
Be Better Tour 2013, Train Keeps Rollin’, Tougher Than a Coffin Nail
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Familiar Strangers
Like a lot of people I commute to work every day via mass transit. I go to the same train station every morning and I take the same train to work every day. As I take the Long Island Railroad or LIRR as it is abbreviated, I depart at the same time every day, with mostly the same people.
I see these same folks every day and they see me, yet I’ve never spoken to any of them, well not spoken anything of any real value anyway. Usually just excuse me, or no, you go ahead. This is my preference, I always have my ear buds in and in cooler or wet weather the hood on my hooded sweatshirt will be up until I am seated. Upon sitting, I open my messenger bag, pull out whatever I am currently reading and immerse myself in my book. This is my quiet before the storm, my sacred solitude.
However, this doesn’t stop me from wondering what these familiar strangers are like. The two girls, who arrive to together, dress almost identically and carry their way too big purses in the bend of their arms, while wearing their ridiculously huge sunglasses, and yet they never sit together.
The young man who shows up slightly flustered, suit jacket over his arm, tie not even around his neck, let alone tied, belt in his other hand! Dude, take a few extra minutes and actually finish getting dressed before you leave the house.
The young girl who is either goth, punk, or really depressed. Always in black leggings, a black top of some sort, and her Converse sneakers. Pale, black hair buzzed in the back, always looking dour. If Erin and I had a daughter, I imagine she would probably look like this girl.
When I get on the train I almost always end up sitting either right across or diagonally across from the woman with the big blue headphones, always drinking her coffee through her straw and peering at her iPhone. Usually with a furrowed brow as if she’s studying or concentrating very hard on something.
Sometimes I wonder what these people are like, what their jobs are, what music they are listening to, who they are texting so furiously, or what show or movie they are watching on their iPad or what they are reading on their e-reader.
I suppose all this is human nature, just as I suppose that they might wonder all of these things about me. Wow, it was loud when that guy cracked his neck, what is he listening to, what is he reading, what does “BJJ” stand for, why is he limping today?
Is it strange that I’ve never attempted to start a conversation and neither have they? Is it a consequence of being New Yorkers, would it be different if we lived elsewhere? Is it disinterest, distrust, laziness? What is it that keeps these familiar faces that I see more often than some of my closest friends and family strangers? Whatever it is, I’m sure that it will continue.
I see these same folks every day and they see me, yet I’ve never spoken to any of them, well not spoken anything of any real value anyway. Usually just excuse me, or no, you go ahead. This is my preference, I always have my ear buds in and in cooler or wet weather the hood on my hooded sweatshirt will be up until I am seated. Upon sitting, I open my messenger bag, pull out whatever I am currently reading and immerse myself in my book. This is my quiet before the storm, my sacred solitude.
However, this doesn’t stop me from wondering what these familiar strangers are like. The two girls, who arrive to together, dress almost identically and carry their way too big purses in the bend of their arms, while wearing their ridiculously huge sunglasses, and yet they never sit together.
The young man who shows up slightly flustered, suit jacket over his arm, tie not even around his neck, let alone tied, belt in his other hand! Dude, take a few extra minutes and actually finish getting dressed before you leave the house.
The young girl who is either goth, punk, or really depressed. Always in black leggings, a black top of some sort, and her Converse sneakers. Pale, black hair buzzed in the back, always looking dour. If Erin and I had a daughter, I imagine she would probably look like this girl.
When I get on the train I almost always end up sitting either right across or diagonally across from the woman with the big blue headphones, always drinking her coffee through her straw and peering at her iPhone. Usually with a furrowed brow as if she’s studying or concentrating very hard on something.
Sometimes I wonder what these people are like, what their jobs are, what music they are listening to, who they are texting so furiously, or what show or movie they are watching on their iPad or what they are reading on their e-reader.
I suppose all this is human nature, just as I suppose that they might wonder all of these things about me. Wow, it was loud when that guy cracked his neck, what is he listening to, what is he reading, what does “BJJ” stand for, why is he limping today?
Is it strange that I’ve never attempted to start a conversation and neither have they? Is it a consequence of being New Yorkers, would it be different if we lived elsewhere? Is it disinterest, distrust, laziness? What is it that keeps these familiar faces that I see more often than some of my closest friends and family strangers? Whatever it is, I’m sure that it will continue.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Having an incredible memory, a blessing or a curse?
My friends and family will often remark on my incredible powers of recall. I have a very, very good long term memory, especially when it concerns social situations. Without much effort I am usually able to recall minute details from as far back as my childhood. And I remember nonsensical things like what I wore on first dates in high school that never even resulted in second dates. My mind is filled with useless recollections of specific episodes of 80s sitcoms.
Oscar Hammling uttered one of my dear friend Chris Gavagan’s favorite quotes, “Often the greatest enemy of present happiness is past happiness too well remembered.” Chris repeated this quote to me often over many a cup of coffee at the infamous El Greco Diner in Brooklyn. It related both to a wonderful script he had written as well as both of our lives. I have often focused on this quote and on the veracity of it.
If you are truly happy in the present, can remembering how happy you were in the past really be enough to derail that happiness? Well, let’s examine this shall we? I am certainly willing to accept the fact that one’s memory is indeed subjective. And that how you remember something, doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s the truth of the matter. I could wholly and completely believe that I wasn’t happier than I had ever been at one point in time, but in truth, maybe there were events surrounding said point in time, that were causing me extreme anxiety? Maybe that MOMENT was wonderful, but the surrounding moments were horrible.
Now, if a person is happy, in the moment & place they are currently in, why would a memory of another time in which they are happy, ruin that? Well, perhaps it’s because you’ll think “I’m having a great time right now, I’m so happy, life is good!” And then you’ll think, “Well, it’s not as good as…” and this is what leads to problems, the comparisons.
These comparisons are often not anywhere near the realm of being fair due to the previously stated subjective nature of one’s memory. The odds are already slanted in favor of past happiness, due to the fact that you are subjectively remembering them. Then you work into the equation that you are older than the time you are remembering and in most cases ones responsibilities, stresses, and obligations increase with age. Another point for past happiness!
So here you are, concentrating on how good things were back then which in turn leads you to think of how much better than they are at the present moment. This can run you down into thinking that if things were so good then, that means they aren’t all that great now, and this totally kills your buzz on your present happiness. And BOOM there we have it, present happiness crushed by the oppressive heel of past happiness.
I have to admit, I have fallen victim to this many, many times. It has ruined many relationships and other opportunities for me in my lifetime. However, all things considered, I wouldn’t trade my memory for anything.
My Father has been gone for over 4 ½ years now, and I have many amazing memories of him. There are little moments between just the two of us as well as the big moments surrounded by others. Do my past memories of times spent with him make new memories of life events and achievements without him pale in comparison? Sometimes, sometimes it does, and I always wish he could be a part of them. I have learned, however, that I have to live in the moment and be thankful for the happiness I have & grateful for the good times I will experience in the future and not shackle myself to my past.
Oscar Hammling uttered one of my dear friend Chris Gavagan’s favorite quotes, “Often the greatest enemy of present happiness is past happiness too well remembered.” Chris repeated this quote to me often over many a cup of coffee at the infamous El Greco Diner in Brooklyn. It related both to a wonderful script he had written as well as both of our lives. I have often focused on this quote and on the veracity of it.
If you are truly happy in the present, can remembering how happy you were in the past really be enough to derail that happiness? Well, let’s examine this shall we? I am certainly willing to accept the fact that one’s memory is indeed subjective. And that how you remember something, doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s the truth of the matter. I could wholly and completely believe that I wasn’t happier than I had ever been at one point in time, but in truth, maybe there were events surrounding said point in time, that were causing me extreme anxiety? Maybe that MOMENT was wonderful, but the surrounding moments were horrible.
Now, if a person is happy, in the moment & place they are currently in, why would a memory of another time in which they are happy, ruin that? Well, perhaps it’s because you’ll think “I’m having a great time right now, I’m so happy, life is good!” And then you’ll think, “Well, it’s not as good as…” and this is what leads to problems, the comparisons.
These comparisons are often not anywhere near the realm of being fair due to the previously stated subjective nature of one’s memory. The odds are already slanted in favor of past happiness, due to the fact that you are subjectively remembering them. Then you work into the equation that you are older than the time you are remembering and in most cases ones responsibilities, stresses, and obligations increase with age. Another point for past happiness!
So here you are, concentrating on how good things were back then which in turn leads you to think of how much better than they are at the present moment. This can run you down into thinking that if things were so good then, that means they aren’t all that great now, and this totally kills your buzz on your present happiness. And BOOM there we have it, present happiness crushed by the oppressive heel of past happiness.
I have to admit, I have fallen victim to this many, many times. It has ruined many relationships and other opportunities for me in my lifetime. However, all things considered, I wouldn’t trade my memory for anything.
My Father has been gone for over 4 ½ years now, and I have many amazing memories of him. There are little moments between just the two of us as well as the big moments surrounded by others. Do my past memories of times spent with him make new memories of life events and achievements without him pale in comparison? Sometimes, sometimes it does, and I always wish he could be a part of them. I have learned, however, that I have to live in the moment and be thankful for the happiness I have & grateful for the good times I will experience in the future and not shackle myself to my past.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Too Much Is Never Enough?
I have a lot of interests, which in my case, are actually more like passions, as I pursue them so vehemently. My wife would probably tell you that I have too many interests and that my interests take up entirely too much room in our house. On that last account, she certainly would have a point.
One of my first loves growing up was reading and books are still a big passion of mine. And when I say books, I mean actual books, not files downloaded onto a reading device. I like to hold them in my hand, turn the pages, smell the paper, and I like the way that they look on a shelf. There is a certain feeling of accomplishment when one gets to the end of a book, turns that last page and snaps that cover shut.
However, my bookcase is almost full to bursting, so full that I have a stack of books on the desk in our guest room and another on my night table. So I am realizing that I may yet have to relent at some point in the very near future, and move on to an e-reader of some kind. There is also cost to consider, as the electronic versions of books are at times half the price of the physical version.
Alas, there will ALWAYS be an exception to that for sure, and that is comic books whether they are single issues, trade paperback or hard cover collections, and graphic novels. First off, the price is the same for a physical copy and a digital copy of a new single issue, that’s no bueno. Second off, when it comes to something like art work, you really need to look at it as it was meant to be looked at, on the page. There is no substitute for seeing things the way the artist intended you to see them, which is in ink & paper form. This presents a big problem as I have a big shelf on my bookshelf full of trades as well as the aforementioned piles. This is along with the box of old issues in my attic and the two nearly full long boxes in my bedroom closet. And there are always trades of stories that I missed that I wish to acquire.
The next big obsession in my life is music, I spent years working at Tower Records and Virgin Megastore and making good use of my discounts, both legitimate and of the five fingered variety. I own well over a thousand physical CDs, and they occupy a large wooden spinner in my guest bedroom. Music was an area in which I relented early on, but not for the same reason as I see my imminent caving in on the book front. The iPod presented me with the opportunity to carry around more music than I ever thought possible right in my pants pocket! I could listen to almost anything, anywhere! And for me, the accessibility just could not be beaten. Despite missing the booklets and holding the CD in my hand, I bowed willingly to the mighty iTunes!
While music no longer poses a threat of the spatial variety it is still a threat on the financial front. There are just so many good bands out there if you take the time and make the effort to seek them out. Then when you find them, if you really dig them, you’re not just going to want their current album are you, not if you’re like me, you’re going to want all their albums! It’s almost to the point where I curse audibly upon getting into a new band. It’s hard enough to keep up with releases of bands I have loved for years like Depeche Mode and Alkaline Trio. This is to say nothing of the ridiculous cost of concert tickets with all their surcharges and handling fees! What are you handling? I’m printing the damn things out myself with my own ink and paper! And yet I’ll be attending five concerts in the next 4 months.
Food is another passion of mine, I love to eat it and I love to prepare it. I have a shelf full of cookbooks and I have several binders full of recipes of the familial variety as well as ones printed off the internet. I also have my four binders from culinary school. (I know, back to the overflowing bookcase again!) I love to go to new restaurants of all different varieties from all over the spectrum in cuisine as well as cost. My to-do list on foursquare has 535 places on it! I am fully aware that this is absolutely ridiculous. This fact does not stop me from continuously adding places to said list. However it does drive my wife crazy as I tend to get pissy about going to restaurants multiple times as I would usually rather try new places.
One of my biggest passions is Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and I don’t just love to train in the art, I love to study it & live it. I was told by Sensei Matt Serra back when I started that BJJ isn’t just an art, it’s a lifestyle, and man was he right! I have many, many books on the subject (BOOKCASE!), DVDs, T-shirts, hoodies, and grappling mats in my garage. This flows into my love of the UFC and the tons of DVDs/Blu-Rays of theirs I own and the amount of their programming that is monopolizing my TiVo. Not even considering the amount of money I have spent ordering their PPVs!
And I haven’t even discussed my love of film or stand-up! Though to be fair my wife has pretty successfully weaned me from owning films and stand-up performances to just watching them via Netflix. And I do download a lot of stand-up albums onto my iPod.
OK, so if you’ve made it this far, I am sure you’re wondering where the hell I am going with this, aside from prattling on and on about my interests and how much space and money they’ve cost me. The point is, I’m still not satisfied or “done” collecting. There are 120 books on my Amazon Wish List, there are always new bands & comedians to discover and old favorites keep dropping albums, as previously mentioned there are 535 places on my foursquare to-do list, prominent BJJ instructors including my own will keep releasing books and DVDs, and the UFC will keep putting on events.
This is where my head begins to spin, why do I have such an insatiable need for content? I finish a book and I immediately want to start another one. Before I am even finished reading my weekly new comics I am looking to see what releases are coming out the next Wednesday. I already read too many monthly titles and consistently get swept up in new ones! I am constantly adding things to my Amazon list despite it being way too long and ridiculous as it is! I read Rolling Stone and SPIN to stay current in music & I am always on the lookout for concert updates! I repeatedly search cooking web sites for recipes and lifestyle sites for dining suggestions. I just bought a new BJJ t-shirt the other day and look forward to every UFC event notification. Why am I so…obsessed? And is it a bad thing to be so?
I just cannot get enough of these passions of mine and yet I have to tell you, and I am telling you true, all of these things pale in comparison to my love for my girls. My Mrs. and my 14 year old daughter, now can you even imagine how much I love them? Nope, I didn’t think so. Until next time, thanks for stopping by.
One of my first loves growing up was reading and books are still a big passion of mine. And when I say books, I mean actual books, not files downloaded onto a reading device. I like to hold them in my hand, turn the pages, smell the paper, and I like the way that they look on a shelf. There is a certain feeling of accomplishment when one gets to the end of a book, turns that last page and snaps that cover shut.
However, my bookcase is almost full to bursting, so full that I have a stack of books on the desk in our guest room and another on my night table. So I am realizing that I may yet have to relent at some point in the very near future, and move on to an e-reader of some kind. There is also cost to consider, as the electronic versions of books are at times half the price of the physical version.
Alas, there will ALWAYS be an exception to that for sure, and that is comic books whether they are single issues, trade paperback or hard cover collections, and graphic novels. First off, the price is the same for a physical copy and a digital copy of a new single issue, that’s no bueno. Second off, when it comes to something like art work, you really need to look at it as it was meant to be looked at, on the page. There is no substitute for seeing things the way the artist intended you to see them, which is in ink & paper form. This presents a big problem as I have a big shelf on my bookshelf full of trades as well as the aforementioned piles. This is along with the box of old issues in my attic and the two nearly full long boxes in my bedroom closet. And there are always trades of stories that I missed that I wish to acquire.
The next big obsession in my life is music, I spent years working at Tower Records and Virgin Megastore and making good use of my discounts, both legitimate and of the five fingered variety. I own well over a thousand physical CDs, and they occupy a large wooden spinner in my guest bedroom. Music was an area in which I relented early on, but not for the same reason as I see my imminent caving in on the book front. The iPod presented me with the opportunity to carry around more music than I ever thought possible right in my pants pocket! I could listen to almost anything, anywhere! And for me, the accessibility just could not be beaten. Despite missing the booklets and holding the CD in my hand, I bowed willingly to the mighty iTunes!
While music no longer poses a threat of the spatial variety it is still a threat on the financial front. There are just so many good bands out there if you take the time and make the effort to seek them out. Then when you find them, if you really dig them, you’re not just going to want their current album are you, not if you’re like me, you’re going to want all their albums! It’s almost to the point where I curse audibly upon getting into a new band. It’s hard enough to keep up with releases of bands I have loved for years like Depeche Mode and Alkaline Trio. This is to say nothing of the ridiculous cost of concert tickets with all their surcharges and handling fees! What are you handling? I’m printing the damn things out myself with my own ink and paper! And yet I’ll be attending five concerts in the next 4 months.
Food is another passion of mine, I love to eat it and I love to prepare it. I have a shelf full of cookbooks and I have several binders full of recipes of the familial variety as well as ones printed off the internet. I also have my four binders from culinary school. (I know, back to the overflowing bookcase again!) I love to go to new restaurants of all different varieties from all over the spectrum in cuisine as well as cost. My to-do list on foursquare has 535 places on it! I am fully aware that this is absolutely ridiculous. This fact does not stop me from continuously adding places to said list. However it does drive my wife crazy as I tend to get pissy about going to restaurants multiple times as I would usually rather try new places.
One of my biggest passions is Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and I don’t just love to train in the art, I love to study it & live it. I was told by Sensei Matt Serra back when I started that BJJ isn’t just an art, it’s a lifestyle, and man was he right! I have many, many books on the subject (BOOKCASE!), DVDs, T-shirts, hoodies, and grappling mats in my garage. This flows into my love of the UFC and the tons of DVDs/Blu-Rays of theirs I own and the amount of their programming that is monopolizing my TiVo. Not even considering the amount of money I have spent ordering their PPVs!
And I haven’t even discussed my love of film or stand-up! Though to be fair my wife has pretty successfully weaned me from owning films and stand-up performances to just watching them via Netflix. And I do download a lot of stand-up albums onto my iPod.
OK, so if you’ve made it this far, I am sure you’re wondering where the hell I am going with this, aside from prattling on and on about my interests and how much space and money they’ve cost me. The point is, I’m still not satisfied or “done” collecting. There are 120 books on my Amazon Wish List, there are always new bands & comedians to discover and old favorites keep dropping albums, as previously mentioned there are 535 places on my foursquare to-do list, prominent BJJ instructors including my own will keep releasing books and DVDs, and the UFC will keep putting on events.
This is where my head begins to spin, why do I have such an insatiable need for content? I finish a book and I immediately want to start another one. Before I am even finished reading my weekly new comics I am looking to see what releases are coming out the next Wednesday. I already read too many monthly titles and consistently get swept up in new ones! I am constantly adding things to my Amazon list despite it being way too long and ridiculous as it is! I read Rolling Stone and SPIN to stay current in music & I am always on the lookout for concert updates! I repeatedly search cooking web sites for recipes and lifestyle sites for dining suggestions. I just bought a new BJJ t-shirt the other day and look forward to every UFC event notification. Why am I so…obsessed? And is it a bad thing to be so?
I just cannot get enough of these passions of mine and yet I have to tell you, and I am telling you true, all of these things pale in comparison to my love for my girls. My Mrs. and my 14 year old daughter, now can you even imagine how much I love them? Nope, I didn’t think so. Until next time, thanks for stopping by.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Return of the BLOG (Where I’ve been, what I’m up to, & what to expect here)
I know, I know, I’m horrible. My last post on here was April 7, 2010, which is now over three years ago. So many things have happened since my last post that I almost do not know where to begin, for anyone who happens across this blog and is not an immediate acquaintance of mine. Which I also know is highly unlikely. Why the hell would anyone who does not know me or at least know of me be reading this blog? Well, I suppose, just in case, I should just do a quick catching up, a la Depeche Mode in 1985.
The first significant thing was that I left the hospital I had worked at in August of 2010. The second significant event was that on August 21, 2010 at the 2nd Annual Team Serra BBQ, I was promoted to the level of Blue Belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu by Senseis Matt & Nick Serra. It was an amazing experience and one of the proudest moments of my life. I am so glad that both my wife & daughter were there to experience it with me.
Soon after, I decided that I was going to pursue one of my great passions in life, baking. I enrolled in the Institute of Culinary Education’s Pastry & Baking Arts program. I learned from some incredibly amazing chefs that I will forever be indebted to: Jeff Yoskowitz, Sim Cass, Scott McMillen, and Chad Pagano. I worked very hard, studied a lot and graduated with high honors.
I interned at a cupcake shop and then worked there for a while and the amount of pay and the number of hours I was getting were just not where I needed them to be to help my wife support our family. We decided to start Put It In Your Face (https://www.facebook.com/PutItInYourFace) an internet based bakery. Things were going well during the holidays and dropped off pretty hard in the summer and we just weren’t pulling in enough consistent clientele and didn’t have the start up for a store front or food truck. Either of which would have greatly benefited our product.
In the summer of 2012 I realized that the business was, unfortunately, going to have to become a side project and that I would have to find full time employment elsewhere. I worked as a merchandiser for Kellogg’s for about five months, stocking supermarket shelves with cookies, crackers, and granola bars. Setting up and breaking down displays and my back (figuratively) in the process.
Then in December of this year, with the help of a good friend’s wife, I was able to land a job as an office manager in Chelsea. And here I am, five months later, writing this blog. I know, not exactly in the culinary or entertainment field. Well, about that, here’s the thing; I have a wife, a daughter, two dogs, a mortgage, and two cars. I think it’s safe to assume you can see where I am getting at with this.
However, I am still training in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (not as often as I would like but I still average twice a week,) I still have Put It In Your Face, I’m still dragging my wife all over to check out places to eat, and here I am, writing. And I am going to endeavor to do a lot more writing from now on. As well as what you will find here, I am an occasional contributor over at www.burgerweekly.com (you can find past pieces from here: http://www.burgerweekly.com/tag/christopher ) and whenever they post me there I will link to it on here.
I’m going to have to backtrack a bit here because another thing that I definitely need to mention is that back in the late 80s I was really into comic books, mostly Batman. Once I started High School, I got away from collecting and all my comics and graphic novels sat in a box in the crawl space of my parent house and then my attic. Well, DC Comics decided that on August 31, 2011 they would restart all their series over to issue #1 with many titles having a completely revamped continuity. My good friend Chris Brady decided that it would be an excellent time to jump back into comics. At first I laughed, asked him if he was kidding and then was gently persuaded to pick up Justice League #1. And that’s all it took, I read more titles now than I ever did as a kid. I follow quite a few titles on a monthly basis and through trade paper backs have caught up on quite a few awesome tales that I missed while I was away.
I love comics and I really need to thank Chris for getting me back into them and I also really need to thank Zach and Tommy of the most awesome local comic shop there is, Best Comics International in New Hyde Park, NY. They have been nothing but cool to me since I first walked through their door, welcoming me with open arms, making suggestions, but not pushing anything on me, and answering any questions I might have. What an awesome crew over there! I definitely urge you to check out their web site: http://www.bestcomics.com/index.html , and if you’re in the area, you need to hit their store!
OK, so I think I covered the where I’ve been and what I’m up to. I think all that’s left is to tell you what to expect here. To state the obvious, this is my blog and I’m going to write about the things that I dig: Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, baking, cooking, eating out, MMA, music, film, books, comics, stand-up comedy, television, and whatever else I happen to feel like running my mouth about. You will occasionally find short stories, poetry, memoirs, and lyrics by yours truly here.
Feel free to comment on here and you can also follow me over on twitter @huntingforjoy where I will drop a link whenever the blog is updated. I promise that I am going to do my best to blog as often as possible, about as much as possible. Thanks for reading.
The first significant thing was that I left the hospital I had worked at in August of 2010. The second significant event was that on August 21, 2010 at the 2nd Annual Team Serra BBQ, I was promoted to the level of Blue Belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu by Senseis Matt & Nick Serra. It was an amazing experience and one of the proudest moments of my life. I am so glad that both my wife & daughter were there to experience it with me.
Soon after, I decided that I was going to pursue one of my great passions in life, baking. I enrolled in the Institute of Culinary Education’s Pastry & Baking Arts program. I learned from some incredibly amazing chefs that I will forever be indebted to: Jeff Yoskowitz, Sim Cass, Scott McMillen, and Chad Pagano. I worked very hard, studied a lot and graduated with high honors.
I interned at a cupcake shop and then worked there for a while and the amount of pay and the number of hours I was getting were just not where I needed them to be to help my wife support our family. We decided to start Put It In Your Face (https://www.facebook.com/PutItInYourFace) an internet based bakery. Things were going well during the holidays and dropped off pretty hard in the summer and we just weren’t pulling in enough consistent clientele and didn’t have the start up for a store front or food truck. Either of which would have greatly benefited our product.
In the summer of 2012 I realized that the business was, unfortunately, going to have to become a side project and that I would have to find full time employment elsewhere. I worked as a merchandiser for Kellogg’s for about five months, stocking supermarket shelves with cookies, crackers, and granola bars. Setting up and breaking down displays and my back (figuratively) in the process.
Then in December of this year, with the help of a good friend’s wife, I was able to land a job as an office manager in Chelsea. And here I am, five months later, writing this blog. I know, not exactly in the culinary or entertainment field. Well, about that, here’s the thing; I have a wife, a daughter, two dogs, a mortgage, and two cars. I think it’s safe to assume you can see where I am getting at with this.
However, I am still training in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (not as often as I would like but I still average twice a week,) I still have Put It In Your Face, I’m still dragging my wife all over to check out places to eat, and here I am, writing. And I am going to endeavor to do a lot more writing from now on. As well as what you will find here, I am an occasional contributor over at www.burgerweekly.com (you can find past pieces from here: http://www.burgerweekly.com/tag/christopher ) and whenever they post me there I will link to it on here.
I’m going to have to backtrack a bit here because another thing that I definitely need to mention is that back in the late 80s I was really into comic books, mostly Batman. Once I started High School, I got away from collecting and all my comics and graphic novels sat in a box in the crawl space of my parent house and then my attic. Well, DC Comics decided that on August 31, 2011 they would restart all their series over to issue #1 with many titles having a completely revamped continuity. My good friend Chris Brady decided that it would be an excellent time to jump back into comics. At first I laughed, asked him if he was kidding and then was gently persuaded to pick up Justice League #1. And that’s all it took, I read more titles now than I ever did as a kid. I follow quite a few titles on a monthly basis and through trade paper backs have caught up on quite a few awesome tales that I missed while I was away.
I love comics and I really need to thank Chris for getting me back into them and I also really need to thank Zach and Tommy of the most awesome local comic shop there is, Best Comics International in New Hyde Park, NY. They have been nothing but cool to me since I first walked through their door, welcoming me with open arms, making suggestions, but not pushing anything on me, and answering any questions I might have. What an awesome crew over there! I definitely urge you to check out their web site: http://www.bestcomics.com/index.html , and if you’re in the area, you need to hit their store!
OK, so I think I covered the where I’ve been and what I’m up to. I think all that’s left is to tell you what to expect here. To state the obvious, this is my blog and I’m going to write about the things that I dig: Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, baking, cooking, eating out, MMA, music, film, books, comics, stand-up comedy, television, and whatever else I happen to feel like running my mouth about. You will occasionally find short stories, poetry, memoirs, and lyrics by yours truly here.
Feel free to comment on here and you can also follow me over on twitter @huntingforjoy where I will drop a link whenever the blog is updated. I promise that I am going to do my best to blog as often as possible, about as much as possible. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Happy Birthday Dad
I wake up every morning startled as if being shaken out of my sleep. I head downstairs and I push myself as hard as I can, straining, growling, huffing, puffing, trying to break myself into a million pieces. I have destroyed myself over and over again smashing my body apart in a million ways in this ridiculous attempt to just be BETTER.
He was much more proud of me than I deserved for him to be. He saw things in me that just weren't there and I let him down so many times with my foolish, selfish, immature actions. I have dedicated my life to trying to be the man he saw in me, to be someone he could be proud of, to be an example of his ideals.
My heart has been torn out and shredded into a million pieces and I will never, ever be whole again. I miss him so much that sometimes I just have to stop moving, thinking, talking because I just cannot breathe. I would do anything, give up anything, just to hug him again and to hear him call me his pal one more time.
He was much more proud of me than I deserved for him to be. He saw things in me that just weren't there and I let him down so many times with my foolish, selfish, immature actions. I have dedicated my life to trying to be the man he saw in me, to be someone he could be proud of, to be an example of his ideals.
My heart has been torn out and shredded into a million pieces and I will never, ever be whole again. I miss him so much that sometimes I just have to stop moving, thinking, talking because I just cannot breathe. I would do anything, give up anything, just to hug him again and to hear him call me his pal one more time.
Friday, January 8, 2010
I Am Broken
I am broken, irreparably so, this is something that I am acutely aware of. It is an undeniable fact, one I have known for quite some time. How did I break, who or what broke me, when did I first become broken? These are questions that I do not have the answer to. However I do know what is broken and I do know that it something that cannot possibly be fixed, ever. My psyche is quite literally a mess.
There have been several different opinions as to what is “wrong” with me. I put the word wrong in quotes because I feel that the description is incorrect, I feel that the word I used previously, broken, is the more correct term for my mental situation. However, society at large would probably consider wrong to be the correct word. Some have called it major depressive disorder, some have called it manic depression, and others have called me a mopey fuck. And still others have referred to me as being “whacky” or “strange.” The word irritable has been tossed around as well.
To me, the labels are just really superfluous, whichever one you decide to use. One way or another, the fact remains, I am broken. It is not something I can control or “work on” or rehabilitate. I often get sad for absolutely reason. Or a single e-mail or comment or action can sometimes send me spiraling down into an abyss of self loathing with omnipresent thoughts of self destruction.
And then there are times when I go on a tear and buy a ton of shit I do not need because I just absolutely had to have them. And I have become an absurd completist as far as some of my interests are concerned. Buying DVDs I do not have the time to watch or albums that I do not consider particularly good or essential just because I NEED to have them in my collection.
Then there is my propensity to become so totally and extremely frustrated with a person or situation seemingly instantaneously. One moment I am fine and the next a wrong sentence or look or reaction has me completely consumed with anger or frustration to the point where I have to immediately step away to avoid a potentially explosive event. Or there will be times when one moment I am completely fine and the next anything and everything irritates me so wholly and completely that I become absolutely impossible to be around.
I also find myself at times being completely unable to feel good about myself. Despite the huge strides I have made in improving my physical appearance I still find so many things to hate when I look in the mirror. And I cannot seem to stop picking myself apart and just wanting to destroy myself because I do not see what I want to see in that reflection.
Or I become so fixated and obsessed with completing a goal or task that failure to do so leaves me feeling completely crushed, hollow, and empty inside. As if I am not worth the dog shit stuck to someone’s shoe, that I am a complete and utter disappointment and failure to all those who were foolish enough to believe in me or count on me.
So yes, I am broken, I cannot be fixed or cured or rehabilitated. I am aware of this and it does not please nor am I looking to use it as an excuse. It is what it is as I am what I am. Broken.
There have been several different opinions as to what is “wrong” with me. I put the word wrong in quotes because I feel that the description is incorrect, I feel that the word I used previously, broken, is the more correct term for my mental situation. However, society at large would probably consider wrong to be the correct word. Some have called it major depressive disorder, some have called it manic depression, and others have called me a mopey fuck. And still others have referred to me as being “whacky” or “strange.” The word irritable has been tossed around as well.
To me, the labels are just really superfluous, whichever one you decide to use. One way or another, the fact remains, I am broken. It is not something I can control or “work on” or rehabilitate. I often get sad for absolutely reason. Or a single e-mail or comment or action can sometimes send me spiraling down into an abyss of self loathing with omnipresent thoughts of self destruction.
And then there are times when I go on a tear and buy a ton of shit I do not need because I just absolutely had to have them. And I have become an absurd completist as far as some of my interests are concerned. Buying DVDs I do not have the time to watch or albums that I do not consider particularly good or essential just because I NEED to have them in my collection.
Then there is my propensity to become so totally and extremely frustrated with a person or situation seemingly instantaneously. One moment I am fine and the next a wrong sentence or look or reaction has me completely consumed with anger or frustration to the point where I have to immediately step away to avoid a potentially explosive event. Or there will be times when one moment I am completely fine and the next anything and everything irritates me so wholly and completely that I become absolutely impossible to be around.
I also find myself at times being completely unable to feel good about myself. Despite the huge strides I have made in improving my physical appearance I still find so many things to hate when I look in the mirror. And I cannot seem to stop picking myself apart and just wanting to destroy myself because I do not see what I want to see in that reflection.
Or I become so fixated and obsessed with completing a goal or task that failure to do so leaves me feeling completely crushed, hollow, and empty inside. As if I am not worth the dog shit stuck to someone’s shoe, that I am a complete and utter disappointment and failure to all those who were foolish enough to believe in me or count on me.
So yes, I am broken, I cannot be fixed or cured or rehabilitated. I am aware of this and it does not please nor am I looking to use it as an excuse. It is what it is as I am what I am. Broken.
Friday, October 30, 2009
When do we stop using the type(s) of music we enjoy to define who we are, or do we ever?
My Thursday night Muay Thai class was cancelled this week due to my instructor being under the weather and Team Serra two alternates being unavailable. Normally, I most likely would have been extremely disappointed. However for the past few days a sinus cold has been kicking the crap out of me and Erin is going to be away for the weekend at her brother & sister-in-law’s house in Atlanta. So, I was glad to have a night at home to rest and spent a bit of extra time with the Mrs. before she left for her trip this morning. So, this how I ended up flipping channels on a Thursday night while eating a DiGiorno pizza with my wife. Oh, and by the way, if you can’t tell if it’s deliver or DiGiorno, you either have shitty taste in pizza or have never had real pizza, ever.
While flipping channels I stopped when I hit the IFC Channel as they were showing the documentary film Goth Cruise. Now I had remembered hearing about this documentary as a girl I knew from my clubbing days had posted on facebook that she and her husband were featured in the film. So, I left it on with more than the cursory interest that I might have normally had. As most of the people who would have any reason to read this would know, I was pretty damn immersed in the NYC/LI Goth scene for a number of years. Hell, Erin and I met at a show my brother’s old band was playing at a Goth club. We sat there watching it, while munching on our store bought pizza, commenting here and there about this song or this outfit. Erin laughed when Amanda, the aforementioned acquaintance, appeared on screen wearing the same I, Synthesist t-shirt that I frequently wear. I, Synthesist is a band fronted by an acquaintance of my brother. I must admit, while I do dig a few of their songs, I mostly wear the shirt because I like the way it fits on me! However I did remember that Amanda was a big fan of theirs.
Our watching of this little documentary lead to my questioning my wife if she liked it better when I dressed more Goth or the way that I dress now. She told me that she prefers my current wardrobe which usually consists of t-shirts and jeans, the occasional hooded sweat shirt or button down with Doc Marten shoes or my limited edition Alkaline Trio Nikes. She prefers when then t-shirts have shorter sleeves that reveal more tattoo and biceps and have a logo or design of some sort. A favorite is the shirt I picked up at the Dead Man’s Bones concert.
This combined with the fantastic book I am currently reading, How Soon Is Never by Marc Spitz, reminded me how much the type of music we listen to often affects how we dress and how we define ourselves. If someone asked me in Junior High or the first year or so of High School, what are you? My response probably would have been I’m a Metal Head. And with my wardrobe consisting mostly of Metallica, Megadeth, and Slayer t-shirts worn with tight black or blue jeans and combat boots most likely would have lead you to believe me. And in my High School, that really was how you defined yourself, metal heads listened to metal, hoodies listened to hip hop or rap, guidos listened to TKA. That’s just the way it was.
By the time I was in college the uniform and music had changed. The wardrobe was now dominated by Depeche Mode, Smiths, Cure, and Morrissey shirts or black button downs, but still with boots and tight jeans! And most nights were spent at Goth clubs swirling around the dance floor with similarly dressed boys and girls in corsets with my black eyeliner, lip stick, and nail polish topping it all off. As I got more into the Goth subculture my wardrobe expanded to include shiny vinyl pants, velvet skirts, mesh shirts, bondage pants and even more impressive knee high, steel toed combat boots. And I frequently dressed that way whether I was at a club or not. Working at Tower Records afforded me the kind of freedom of dress that a lot of other jobs don’t. In college it seemed that this still had an impact on how you defined yourself, were you Goth, a Punk, a hard core kid, or an indie rocker? Maybe you were in a fraternity or sorority and were just one of the Greeks?
As I got older, I just seemed to stop dressing that way. I have not stopped listening to the music, and hell, I’m listening to Tomorrow by Morrissey as I type this. I have over 7,000 songs on my iPod and I own over 1,000 CDs. The genres of music stretch from Classic Rock, to Heavy Metal, to Hip Hop, to Rap, to Disco, to Industrial, to Punk, to New Wave, to Industrial, to Alternative, to Ska and on and on. What I listen to no longer dictates how I dress, I wear what I feel comfortable in and what I think looks good. Sure, I still wear t-shirts of bands that I like, but I also wear a lot of Straight Edge and Serra Jiu-Jitsu shirts. And if someone said, what are you? I certainly would not use the contents of my iPod or wardrobe to define who I am.
First of all, what I am listening to can be so different on a day to day basis that I can no longer see myself saying, I’m Goth or I’m a Punk or an Indie Rocker. I mean people obviously still do this, hence the Goth Cruise flick. And I know people still call themselves Hipsters and Punks and the like. I’m just not one of them. I don’t know when or how this happened and I don’t know why. It just did. I still love music more than most people love their pets but I don’t let it dictate who or what I am. Hell, I don’t let my job do that.
The clearest definition of who I am is probably right here on this very blog, in the little blurb to the right: Married, father, writer, musician, straight edge, beginning BJJ practitioner. This is how I choose to define myself. And I think it fits even better than my I, Synthesist t-shirt. Until next time, take care.
While flipping channels I stopped when I hit the IFC Channel as they were showing the documentary film Goth Cruise. Now I had remembered hearing about this documentary as a girl I knew from my clubbing days had posted on facebook that she and her husband were featured in the film. So, I left it on with more than the cursory interest that I might have normally had. As most of the people who would have any reason to read this would know, I was pretty damn immersed in the NYC/LI Goth scene for a number of years. Hell, Erin and I met at a show my brother’s old band was playing at a Goth club. We sat there watching it, while munching on our store bought pizza, commenting here and there about this song or this outfit. Erin laughed when Amanda, the aforementioned acquaintance, appeared on screen wearing the same I, Synthesist t-shirt that I frequently wear. I, Synthesist is a band fronted by an acquaintance of my brother. I must admit, while I do dig a few of their songs, I mostly wear the shirt because I like the way it fits on me! However I did remember that Amanda was a big fan of theirs.
Our watching of this little documentary lead to my questioning my wife if she liked it better when I dressed more Goth or the way that I dress now. She told me that she prefers my current wardrobe which usually consists of t-shirts and jeans, the occasional hooded sweat shirt or button down with Doc Marten shoes or my limited edition Alkaline Trio Nikes. She prefers when then t-shirts have shorter sleeves that reveal more tattoo and biceps and have a logo or design of some sort. A favorite is the shirt I picked up at the Dead Man’s Bones concert.
This combined with the fantastic book I am currently reading, How Soon Is Never by Marc Spitz, reminded me how much the type of music we listen to often affects how we dress and how we define ourselves. If someone asked me in Junior High or the first year or so of High School, what are you? My response probably would have been I’m a Metal Head. And with my wardrobe consisting mostly of Metallica, Megadeth, and Slayer t-shirts worn with tight black or blue jeans and combat boots most likely would have lead you to believe me. And in my High School, that really was how you defined yourself, metal heads listened to metal, hoodies listened to hip hop or rap, guidos listened to TKA. That’s just the way it was.
By the time I was in college the uniform and music had changed. The wardrobe was now dominated by Depeche Mode, Smiths, Cure, and Morrissey shirts or black button downs, but still with boots and tight jeans! And most nights were spent at Goth clubs swirling around the dance floor with similarly dressed boys and girls in corsets with my black eyeliner, lip stick, and nail polish topping it all off. As I got more into the Goth subculture my wardrobe expanded to include shiny vinyl pants, velvet skirts, mesh shirts, bondage pants and even more impressive knee high, steel toed combat boots. And I frequently dressed that way whether I was at a club or not. Working at Tower Records afforded me the kind of freedom of dress that a lot of other jobs don’t. In college it seemed that this still had an impact on how you defined yourself, were you Goth, a Punk, a hard core kid, or an indie rocker? Maybe you were in a fraternity or sorority and were just one of the Greeks?
As I got older, I just seemed to stop dressing that way. I have not stopped listening to the music, and hell, I’m listening to Tomorrow by Morrissey as I type this. I have over 7,000 songs on my iPod and I own over 1,000 CDs. The genres of music stretch from Classic Rock, to Heavy Metal, to Hip Hop, to Rap, to Disco, to Industrial, to Punk, to New Wave, to Industrial, to Alternative, to Ska and on and on. What I listen to no longer dictates how I dress, I wear what I feel comfortable in and what I think looks good. Sure, I still wear t-shirts of bands that I like, but I also wear a lot of Straight Edge and Serra Jiu-Jitsu shirts. And if someone said, what are you? I certainly would not use the contents of my iPod or wardrobe to define who I am.
First of all, what I am listening to can be so different on a day to day basis that I can no longer see myself saying, I’m Goth or I’m a Punk or an Indie Rocker. I mean people obviously still do this, hence the Goth Cruise flick. And I know people still call themselves Hipsters and Punks and the like. I’m just not one of them. I don’t know when or how this happened and I don’t know why. It just did. I still love music more than most people love their pets but I don’t let it dictate who or what I am. Hell, I don’t let my job do that.
The clearest definition of who I am is probably right here on this very blog, in the little blurb to the right: Married, father, writer, musician, straight edge, beginning BJJ practitioner. This is how I choose to define myself. And I think it fits even better than my I, Synthesist t-shirt. Until next time, take care.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
My Aging Alternative Icons and more…
Morrissey collapsed on stage Saturday, October 24 after performing one song at his show, then falling to the ground, unconscious. He was "stable" at a hospital in Swindon, England, on Sunday morning, according to a hospital spokeswoman quoted by the British Telegraph. I certainly wish the Moz a full and speedy recovery. He has had such an awesome resurgence over the last five years, putting out several fantastic albums in a row: You Are the Quarry in 2004, Live at Earls Court in 2005, Ringleader of the Tormentors in 2006, and Years of Refusal in 2009.
Morrissey’s recent ailment as well as Dave Gahan’s recent health issues during this past year while on tour was reason to give me pause and realize that some of my biggest musical influences are getting on in years now. Dave Gahan is 47, Martin Gore is 48, Morrissey is 50, Henry Rollins is 48, Johnny Marr is 45, Mike Ness is 47, Robert Smith is 50, Bono is 49, and the Edge is 48. Well, at least Rivers Cuomo at 39, Matt Skiba at 33, and Dan Andriano at 32 are all close to or at my age! I know that it shouldn’t have escaped my attention that most of my influences were getting up there in terms of numbers. I mean, they have been actively contributing to the musical landscape since the late 70’s and I was not even born until 1976 and am now clocking in at 33 years old myself.
However, the realization of my aging alternative icons did give me a bit of a shake. I mean, if the HOT ANIMAL MACHINE Henry Rollins is aging…what the hell is to become of me? I remember being in high school and buying a cassette (yes, that’s right, a cassette) of the End of Silence off of some kid in the locker room. Low Self Opinion used to just, DESTROY me. And I still love to blast that song. And Weight and Come In & Burn are both fantastic records as well. And I know I need not speak of how I feel about Hank’s literary output. If this guy is getting on in years, man…that means we’re all aging!
And yes, of course I have realized that I am getting older, hell if the scant grey hairs in my goatee don’t tell me that the fact that my DAUGHTER will be eleven in February sure as hell does! And I have certainly stepped up my efforts this past year to stave off the effects of aging as best as I can. Between Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu twice a week, Muay Thai once a week, my additional daily works outs six times a week, and add to that my much improved eating habits and I am in the best physical condition of my entire life.
Yet there are still effects of the aging process that I feel every day. My joints often hurt and my legs are tired as hell after hitting the elliptical for a half hour. I also require much more sleep than I used to. I remember the days when I could run at peak efficiency on as little as two hours of sleep! I can still pull a day like that out if absolutely necessary but chances are I would be seriously hurting from it! These days with my waking up at five AM Monday to Friday I am usually nodding off by eleven PM. Gone are the days of the sleep deprivation machine that I once was!
Of course, there are advantages to getting older as well. I appreciate a lot of the little things as well as the big things so much more. My idea of “going out” or “doing something” has drastically changed as I have gotten older. Having a cup of coffee or dinner with a friend is big deal now and just spending a day walking around the Village with my wife is a treasure. And when I was in college I used to go to shows all the time! Did I enjoy and appreciate them; of course I did, but not nearly as much as I do now, because I don’t have the time to experience them as often. I also used to have all the time in the world to grab a cup of coffee or a meal with a friend, whereas now scheduling conflicts rule the day! Between who has a job with a whacky schedule, who’s married, who has kids, who’s in a band there are so many outside factors to planning a get together! So when we can make them happen, we really enjoy them!
Ugh, enough about my old decrepit ass! MOVING ON! When will people learn that negative reinforcement is about as useful as pouring water on a grease fire? I mean, does anyone really respond all that well to threats and constant brow beating in a work environment? All that does for me is make me tense up, frustrate me, and put me on the defensive. Now, how exactly, is this conducive to better job performance? Heaven forbid you question their methods, because then you’re not open to criticism and not a team player, as well as not willing to work to improve upon your weaknesses. I love when people who have never taken management classes are allowed to manage others. It’s awesome!
I guess this is enough whining for now! Turn in next time for even more bitching and kvetching! No, no, hopefully the next blog will be of a more positive nature. I just needed to get all this out. Thanks for listening (reading).
Morrissey’s recent ailment as well as Dave Gahan’s recent health issues during this past year while on tour was reason to give me pause and realize that some of my biggest musical influences are getting on in years now. Dave Gahan is 47, Martin Gore is 48, Morrissey is 50, Henry Rollins is 48, Johnny Marr is 45, Mike Ness is 47, Robert Smith is 50, Bono is 49, and the Edge is 48. Well, at least Rivers Cuomo at 39, Matt Skiba at 33, and Dan Andriano at 32 are all close to or at my age! I know that it shouldn’t have escaped my attention that most of my influences were getting up there in terms of numbers. I mean, they have been actively contributing to the musical landscape since the late 70’s and I was not even born until 1976 and am now clocking in at 33 years old myself.
However, the realization of my aging alternative icons did give me a bit of a shake. I mean, if the HOT ANIMAL MACHINE Henry Rollins is aging…what the hell is to become of me? I remember being in high school and buying a cassette (yes, that’s right, a cassette) of the End of Silence off of some kid in the locker room. Low Self Opinion used to just, DESTROY me. And I still love to blast that song. And Weight and Come In & Burn are both fantastic records as well. And I know I need not speak of how I feel about Hank’s literary output. If this guy is getting on in years, man…that means we’re all aging!
And yes, of course I have realized that I am getting older, hell if the scant grey hairs in my goatee don’t tell me that the fact that my DAUGHTER will be eleven in February sure as hell does! And I have certainly stepped up my efforts this past year to stave off the effects of aging as best as I can. Between Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu twice a week, Muay Thai once a week, my additional daily works outs six times a week, and add to that my much improved eating habits and I am in the best physical condition of my entire life.
Yet there are still effects of the aging process that I feel every day. My joints often hurt and my legs are tired as hell after hitting the elliptical for a half hour. I also require much more sleep than I used to. I remember the days when I could run at peak efficiency on as little as two hours of sleep! I can still pull a day like that out if absolutely necessary but chances are I would be seriously hurting from it! These days with my waking up at five AM Monday to Friday I am usually nodding off by eleven PM. Gone are the days of the sleep deprivation machine that I once was!
Of course, there are advantages to getting older as well. I appreciate a lot of the little things as well as the big things so much more. My idea of “going out” or “doing something” has drastically changed as I have gotten older. Having a cup of coffee or dinner with a friend is big deal now and just spending a day walking around the Village with my wife is a treasure. And when I was in college I used to go to shows all the time! Did I enjoy and appreciate them; of course I did, but not nearly as much as I do now, because I don’t have the time to experience them as often. I also used to have all the time in the world to grab a cup of coffee or a meal with a friend, whereas now scheduling conflicts rule the day! Between who has a job with a whacky schedule, who’s married, who has kids, who’s in a band there are so many outside factors to planning a get together! So when we can make them happen, we really enjoy them!
Ugh, enough about my old decrepit ass! MOVING ON! When will people learn that negative reinforcement is about as useful as pouring water on a grease fire? I mean, does anyone really respond all that well to threats and constant brow beating in a work environment? All that does for me is make me tense up, frustrate me, and put me on the defensive. Now, how exactly, is this conducive to better job performance? Heaven forbid you question their methods, because then you’re not open to criticism and not a team player, as well as not willing to work to improve upon your weaknesses. I love when people who have never taken management classes are allowed to manage others. It’s awesome!
I guess this is enough whining for now! Turn in next time for even more bitching and kvetching! No, no, hopefully the next blog will be of a more positive nature. I just needed to get all this out. Thanks for listening (reading).
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Long time, no blog
I know it has been an extremely long time since I have written anything. And it isn’t that I haven’t had anything to discuss, plenty of things going on right now for sure. Erin and I spent a week in Ireland in May and had a fantastic time. I earned my third stripe in Jiu-Jitsu and took my first advanced/no gi class. I have been motoring right along in Muay Thai class. And there was the sudden passing of the Japanese legend Misawa on January 13 and my attendance at ROH’s Manhattan Mayhem III on the same day. The release of several new albums I was anticipating: Crossing the Rubicon by the Sounds, Battle for the Sun by Placebo, and Back and Forth by Pete Yorn. I also had to endure my first Father’s Day without my beloved Father. So, yes, there has been plenty to talk about.
I have contemplated starting one of these quite a few times since we returned home from Ireland and yet I haven’t written a thing. I think there are several reasons for this. The first being that I have just been extremely busy, I am training three times a week: Tuesday night is beginners Jiu-Jitsu, Thursday night is Muay Thai, and Saturday afternoon is advanced/no gi Jiu-Jitsu. I also get up at 5 AM every morning to get in some cardio before work with additional exercises on the days I’m not training. Factor into that a full time job, a daily commute that takes 90 minutes each way, a lovely wife, and a fantastic daughter and you can see that my “free time” is pretty limited.
Another reason is that I really wanted to make this blog completely uncensored. Yet I am realizing that this is a complete impossibility. Anyone can Google anyone nowadays and along with that comes the ability to check up on activities such as blogging. I don’t believe in hiding or that there is any strength in blogging anonymously. Anyway can be brave behind a mask and without consequences, I like to stand behind what I say so that’s not an option for me. However, I do have a family to take care of, and they come before my freedom to mouth off across the internet.
Anyway, on with the blogging and this one is going to be a corker! As one of my Father’s Day gifts I received A Dull Roar: What I Did on My Summer Deracination 2006 by Henry Rollins. I was extremely excited to receive this as I am a HUGE fan of gold old Hank and own and have read and re-read all of his books (well, except for Roomanitarian which I own, started reading, and for whatever reason, didn’t get around to finishing, but I will once I finish this one, though I will have to rescue it from its cardboard tomb in the attic.)
As is always the case with missives from Hank, I totally and completely love the shit out of this book. This book is a collection of journal entries from back in 2006 and I absolutely love how after every entry he catalogs what he ate that day as well as his work outs. Somewhere along the line old Hank became a quasi vegetarian (he still eats fish, eggs, and dairy) which totally surprised me as I remembered earlier books where he mentioned his cupboards only containing beef chili and him making fun of vegetarians as recently as his spoken word CD Think Tank which came out back in 1998. Hank is also apparently a big fan of carrot juice, cream cheese bagels, sesame bars, and ice bars. This is a great read and Henry’s dedication to his work is simply staggering. I am happy to report that I am as big a fan of his as ever. I am definitely going to need to upload all my Rollins spoken word CDs onto my iTunes so that I can throw them onto the old iPod. And I would love to get Talk Is Cheap Vols. 1-4. I am also really looking forward to his next book, A Preferred Blur: Reflections, Inspections, and Travel in All Directions which will be released on August 1, 2009.
Moving on! I have quickly come to realize that I have become much more comfortable being alone than I was in years passed. I went back and read a lot of old journal entries and they reminded me, not that I needed much reminding, how much I used to hate being alone. I seemingly never, ever wanted to be left to my own devices. I know that a great deal of that had to do with my self esteem issues and my crippling need and desire for everyone I met to like me. Nowadays I have no problems at all with time to myself. And I have plenty to do with that time when I have it. Be it reading, catching up with DVD watching or the occasional quality time with my PS3!
I know that in the past, not here, but other place I have addressed the “who shit in your cereal” issue before but it could definitely use another go around. Look, I’m not the type of dude who walks around with a huge goofy smile on his face all the time; it’s just not my natural expression. However, I also don’t walk around looking like someone raped my dog with a red hot poker. There are several people I see in my daily travels who constantly wear the “someone took a big dump in my cornflakes mask” and it’s fucking ridiculous. This one woman, I see her at least 2 or 3 times a week, always looks at me like I punched her wheel chair bound great-grandmother in the face or something. I don’t even know this woman! And yet I often find her staring at me with that look upon her face, I just want to close my book, pull out my ear phones, walk over to her, and say “may I help you?” People need to just chill the fuck out and get over themselves.
I had an interesting conversation with some of the upper belts after no gi class on Saturday. We were all talking about how grateful we were to train where we did and to have the instructors and training partners that we had. One of the guys mentioned despite the fact that we were located on Long Island, not one “typical Long Island douchebag” could be found among us. Now, if you don’t know what he was referring to, I suggest you check out either Roosevelt Field or the Source Mall and cruise around for a bit. You know the guy, polo shirt, blow out hair cut, sunglasses that your girlfriend should be wearing. He surmised that this was due to the fact that these were the type of guys who would rather talk about fighting, than do it. I bunch of us also joked that you should have had to either been tapped out or tapped someone out at least a few times before you could wear a TapouT t-shirt. I suggested that perhaps a screening at check out followed by a quick lesson in Jiu-Jitsu prior to purchase would be a fun idea! I kiid I kiid!
Monster then let us know that a majority of the guys he has come across who train in MMA really are not looking to be true Martial Artists and can be complete assholes. However at our academy, people are looking to learn the Martial Arts and are friendly, helpful, and respectful. I cannot stress enough how luck I am to train with such a great group of individuals.
Alright, I think I have rambled on long enough for one installment. I hope that you enjoyed reading and I will try not to go so long in between entries. Take care and keep your head up.
I have contemplated starting one of these quite a few times since we returned home from Ireland and yet I haven’t written a thing. I think there are several reasons for this. The first being that I have just been extremely busy, I am training three times a week: Tuesday night is beginners Jiu-Jitsu, Thursday night is Muay Thai, and Saturday afternoon is advanced/no gi Jiu-Jitsu. I also get up at 5 AM every morning to get in some cardio before work with additional exercises on the days I’m not training. Factor into that a full time job, a daily commute that takes 90 minutes each way, a lovely wife, and a fantastic daughter and you can see that my “free time” is pretty limited.
Another reason is that I really wanted to make this blog completely uncensored. Yet I am realizing that this is a complete impossibility. Anyone can Google anyone nowadays and along with that comes the ability to check up on activities such as blogging. I don’t believe in hiding or that there is any strength in blogging anonymously. Anyway can be brave behind a mask and without consequences, I like to stand behind what I say so that’s not an option for me. However, I do have a family to take care of, and they come before my freedom to mouth off across the internet.
Anyway, on with the blogging and this one is going to be a corker! As one of my Father’s Day gifts I received A Dull Roar: What I Did on My Summer Deracination 2006 by Henry Rollins. I was extremely excited to receive this as I am a HUGE fan of gold old Hank and own and have read and re-read all of his books (well, except for Roomanitarian which I own, started reading, and for whatever reason, didn’t get around to finishing, but I will once I finish this one, though I will have to rescue it from its cardboard tomb in the attic.)
As is always the case with missives from Hank, I totally and completely love the shit out of this book. This book is a collection of journal entries from back in 2006 and I absolutely love how after every entry he catalogs what he ate that day as well as his work outs. Somewhere along the line old Hank became a quasi vegetarian (he still eats fish, eggs, and dairy) which totally surprised me as I remembered earlier books where he mentioned his cupboards only containing beef chili and him making fun of vegetarians as recently as his spoken word CD Think Tank which came out back in 1998. Hank is also apparently a big fan of carrot juice, cream cheese bagels, sesame bars, and ice bars. This is a great read and Henry’s dedication to his work is simply staggering. I am happy to report that I am as big a fan of his as ever. I am definitely going to need to upload all my Rollins spoken word CDs onto my iTunes so that I can throw them onto the old iPod. And I would love to get Talk Is Cheap Vols. 1-4. I am also really looking forward to his next book, A Preferred Blur: Reflections, Inspections, and Travel in All Directions which will be released on August 1, 2009.
Moving on! I have quickly come to realize that I have become much more comfortable being alone than I was in years passed. I went back and read a lot of old journal entries and they reminded me, not that I needed much reminding, how much I used to hate being alone. I seemingly never, ever wanted to be left to my own devices. I know that a great deal of that had to do with my self esteem issues and my crippling need and desire for everyone I met to like me. Nowadays I have no problems at all with time to myself. And I have plenty to do with that time when I have it. Be it reading, catching up with DVD watching or the occasional quality time with my PS3!
I know that in the past, not here, but other place I have addressed the “who shit in your cereal” issue before but it could definitely use another go around. Look, I’m not the type of dude who walks around with a huge goofy smile on his face all the time; it’s just not my natural expression. However, I also don’t walk around looking like someone raped my dog with a red hot poker. There are several people I see in my daily travels who constantly wear the “someone took a big dump in my cornflakes mask” and it’s fucking ridiculous. This one woman, I see her at least 2 or 3 times a week, always looks at me like I punched her wheel chair bound great-grandmother in the face or something. I don’t even know this woman! And yet I often find her staring at me with that look upon her face, I just want to close my book, pull out my ear phones, walk over to her, and say “may I help you?” People need to just chill the fuck out and get over themselves.
I had an interesting conversation with some of the upper belts after no gi class on Saturday. We were all talking about how grateful we were to train where we did and to have the instructors and training partners that we had. One of the guys mentioned despite the fact that we were located on Long Island, not one “typical Long Island douchebag” could be found among us. Now, if you don’t know what he was referring to, I suggest you check out either Roosevelt Field or the Source Mall and cruise around for a bit. You know the guy, polo shirt, blow out hair cut, sunglasses that your girlfriend should be wearing. He surmised that this was due to the fact that these were the type of guys who would rather talk about fighting, than do it. I bunch of us also joked that you should have had to either been tapped out or tapped someone out at least a few times before you could wear a TapouT t-shirt. I suggested that perhaps a screening at check out followed by a quick lesson in Jiu-Jitsu prior to purchase would be a fun idea! I kiid I kiid!
Monster then let us know that a majority of the guys he has come across who train in MMA really are not looking to be true Martial Artists and can be complete assholes. However at our academy, people are looking to learn the Martial Arts and are friendly, helpful, and respectful. I cannot stress enough how luck I am to train with such a great group of individuals.
Alright, I think I have rambled on long enough for one installment. I hope that you enjoyed reading and I will try not to go so long in between entries. Take care and keep your head up.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Training Hard
I know, I know, it’s been quite a while since my last update on here. Certainly not my intention as I have been meaning to write for some time now, however, life intervenes as they say. I continue to train at Serra Jiu-Jitsu every week and have recently added a new ingredient to the mix: Muay Thai. I am now training in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu twice a week and Muay Thai once a week. I am hoping that this increased training schedule will help to improve upon my recent fitness advances as well as making me a more rounded martial artist.
I have now been training with Team Serra for a little over six months and have consequently lost 15.5 lbs and several inches off my waist. I’m down to about 155 lbs and now and still have a bit to go but I am very encouraged by my progress. Shorts that were snug last summer were falling off me in such a way when I attempted to wear them two weeks ago that Erin immediately insisted I buy new shorts. Jeans and t-shirts I haven’t been able to wear since my honeymoon two years ago are fitting me better than they did back then. I have been eating better but I do believe that I owe 90% of this positive change in my appearance to my instructors and training partners over at Serra BJJ. Please check out our recently revamped web site at http://www.serrajitsu.com/ for more information. I would again like to especially thank Matt & Nick Serra, Ron Witkowski, Paul “Opie” Fahey, William “Billy Ho” Hofacker, Gabriel “Monsta” Toribio, Frank “Bam Bam” Oyague, and Gil Renschak for all their efforts in training me and my training partner Chris Brady for repping and rolling with me.
My love for BJJ increases exponentially every time I step on the mat and my desire to be better increases with every new technique I learn. I cannot even express how much BJJ has done for me and how I feel it has improved my overall quality of life. It really does become a way of life and latch onto your heart and soul if you give it your all.
I started doing BJJ a little over a month after my Father’s passing. I was looking for something to help me take my mind off my loss and to help me to, at least partially, attempt to fill the gaping hole that was now in my heart, soul, and life. I wanted to do something that would impact my life in a positive way and I have to say that it has more than fit the bill. I have met some really great people who really care about each other and genuinely want to see each other grow and improve.
I have previously mentioned the positive physical effects of my training and I also believe that it has helped me become more focused and determined. Training three times a week has given me some structure in my life outside of my job and has helped me to focus on something positive instead of the negative feeling of loss and emptiness.
Nothing will ever be able to replace having my Father in my life, but Jiu-Jitsu has certainly been a great form of therapy for me and really helped me to work through my grief in a positive fashion. I also feel that my Father would be proud to see me dedicating myself to the “gentle art” and applying myself to something so positive and worthwhile.
Until next time, keep your head up.
I have now been training with Team Serra for a little over six months and have consequently lost 15.5 lbs and several inches off my waist. I’m down to about 155 lbs and now and still have a bit to go but I am very encouraged by my progress. Shorts that were snug last summer were falling off me in such a way when I attempted to wear them two weeks ago that Erin immediately insisted I buy new shorts. Jeans and t-shirts I haven’t been able to wear since my honeymoon two years ago are fitting me better than they did back then. I have been eating better but I do believe that I owe 90% of this positive change in my appearance to my instructors and training partners over at Serra BJJ. Please check out our recently revamped web site at http://www.serrajitsu.com/ for more information. I would again like to especially thank Matt & Nick Serra, Ron Witkowski, Paul “Opie” Fahey, William “Billy Ho” Hofacker, Gabriel “Monsta” Toribio, Frank “Bam Bam” Oyague, and Gil Renschak for all their efforts in training me and my training partner Chris Brady for repping and rolling with me.
My love for BJJ increases exponentially every time I step on the mat and my desire to be better increases with every new technique I learn. I cannot even express how much BJJ has done for me and how I feel it has improved my overall quality of life. It really does become a way of life and latch onto your heart and soul if you give it your all.
I started doing BJJ a little over a month after my Father’s passing. I was looking for something to help me take my mind off my loss and to help me to, at least partially, attempt to fill the gaping hole that was now in my heart, soul, and life. I wanted to do something that would impact my life in a positive way and I have to say that it has more than fit the bill. I have met some really great people who really care about each other and genuinely want to see each other grow and improve.
I have previously mentioned the positive physical effects of my training and I also believe that it has helped me become more focused and determined. Training three times a week has given me some structure in my life outside of my job and has helped me to focus on something positive instead of the negative feeling of loss and emptiness.
Nothing will ever be able to replace having my Father in my life, but Jiu-Jitsu has certainly been a great form of therapy for me and really helped me to work through my grief in a positive fashion. I also feel that my Father would be proud to see me dedicating myself to the “gentle art” and applying myself to something so positive and worthwhile.
Until next time, keep your head up.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
U2, living in the moment, appreciating what we have
Last night I was taking the train home from seeing Watchmen with my good friend Shannon and several things coursed their way through my mind. The first was that U2's early albums are still absolutely incredible. I've worked my way through Boy, October, War, and I am now up to the Unforgettable Fire. Edge's guitar playing still stirs something up in me that I cannot quite describe. I just cannot get over how good a band they were so early in their career, I Will Follow is the first track on their first album, wrap your head around that!
And I know, I know, Bono wants to save the world...yadda, yadda, yadda...save it. They are incredible band who write incredible songs. Leave Bono's messianic complex at the door an just enjoy the music. It is possible to separate the two and there are worse things than wanting to put a stop to poverty and AIDS aren't there?
And yes, I have listened to the new album three times and I am still not falling in love with it. I decided to start over and work my way back. I want to enjoy the journey these boys from Dublin have made to get us to this point here in 2009. That's also something to think about, these fellows have been together without a break, making music, recording, touring, the whole deal, without a single line up change since 1976! That's 32 years!
OK, enough of the U2 fan boy nonsense, and no I am not Irish, I just marry Irish. This leads us to my next thought. I was thinking about my wife, Erin, and about some of my favorite memories of our six and a half years together. And I was thinking that some of my favorite memories are not of the huge life changing variety. I mean, of course, our wedding was fantastic and one of the most amazing nights of my life. And yes, it was amazing standing there holding her hand and staring up at Big Ben in London.
However, perhaps my favorite memory, is kissing her in the rain outside of her old apartment in Long Beach. And I thought about how early on in our relationship we were walking along the beach, it was at night and I was dressed in a really nice new pair of black slacks and Erin asked me to sit in the sand with her. I told her I didn't want to get sand all over my nice pants! What a fucking moron! How could I not sit in the sand by the ocean with this young woman that I was falling in love with?
Last night when Erin picked me up from the subway I was telling her how I felt that memories of the little things like those I have mentioned here were so important. And how much I regretted not sitting in the sand with her that night.
Sometimes we worry that my daughter is far too concerned with what everyone else is doing or will be doing and not what she herself is doing or will be doing. She always seems so concerned with what she may be missing or could have missed/will miss that she misses everything. She often does not seem to enjoy what she is doing because she gets so wrapped up in watching what everyone else is doing.
I know fear that she may have gotten this from me. Too many times I am looking back or ahead and not enjoying what I am doing. I am worried about what tomorrow will bring or what happened yesterday and not enjoying what I am doing. I think this is partly due to the fact that for a while I thought only of the moment and completely disregarded the consequences of my actions. I lived completely in the moment and was totally dedicated to doing whatever would make me most happy at that exact moment. This is not a good way to go about things either I soon found out.
So I think that in an effort to avoid this behavior I shifted to completely the opposite. I was always looking to what comes next and not what's going on now. What am I doing tomorrow or this weekend? That I have to be at work the next morning instead of enjoying the night I have to spend alone with my wife.
I've realized that I need to focus more on the moment, to enjoy the here and now and to not be rushing off to tomorrow or next weekend. It is good to have things to look forward to but not so much so that you don't enjoy where you are at present. I need to stop worrying about the fact that I may not be perfectly mastering a technique in Jiu Jitsu and appreciate the moment that I am being taught and the privilege of learning from such great instructors. I need to stop and enjoy my daughter giggling as I tease her or makes jokes and stop worrying about what time she has to be at a Girl Scouts function the next day. I need to enjoy sitting and watching a movie with my wife's head on my chest and stop thinking about how much work I have on my desk waiting for me the next day.
I also thought about the fact that there are so many people out there right now who have it so much worse than I do. I know that sometimes I can be overcome by thoughts of sorrow or hopelessness or frustration and that part of that is genetic and part of it is my own obsessing over meaningless crap. I am a lucky man, I am married to a fantastic woman, I have a wonderful daughter, my wife and I have good jobs, and a nice house. I have a wonderful family and amazing friends.
I have lost my father, who was one of my absolute most favorite people in the entire world. But I have not lost everything. And instead of focusing on the fact that I lost someone that I loved so very much, I think I need to try and focus more on the fact that I still have so many people who I love and who love me so very much. And to be grateful for what I do have instead of being so angry about what I no longer have anymore. And I need also need to be grateful for all those years I did have with my father. I got a little over 32 years with him and that's 29 more than Erin got with her Dad. And I need to cherish those memories, instead of regretting that there will not be more of them.
So I just want to say, stop living in the past, stop longing for the future, and live in and love the moment that you are in.
And I know, I know, Bono wants to save the world...yadda, yadda, yadda...save it. They are incredible band who write incredible songs. Leave Bono's messianic complex at the door an just enjoy the music. It is possible to separate the two and there are worse things than wanting to put a stop to poverty and AIDS aren't there?
And yes, I have listened to the new album three times and I am still not falling in love with it. I decided to start over and work my way back. I want to enjoy the journey these boys from Dublin have made to get us to this point here in 2009. That's also something to think about, these fellows have been together without a break, making music, recording, touring, the whole deal, without a single line up change since 1976! That's 32 years!
OK, enough of the U2 fan boy nonsense, and no I am not Irish, I just marry Irish. This leads us to my next thought. I was thinking about my wife, Erin, and about some of my favorite memories of our six and a half years together. And I was thinking that some of my favorite memories are not of the huge life changing variety. I mean, of course, our wedding was fantastic and one of the most amazing nights of my life. And yes, it was amazing standing there holding her hand and staring up at Big Ben in London.
However, perhaps my favorite memory, is kissing her in the rain outside of her old apartment in Long Beach. And I thought about how early on in our relationship we were walking along the beach, it was at night and I was dressed in a really nice new pair of black slacks and Erin asked me to sit in the sand with her. I told her I didn't want to get sand all over my nice pants! What a fucking moron! How could I not sit in the sand by the ocean with this young woman that I was falling in love with?
Last night when Erin picked me up from the subway I was telling her how I felt that memories of the little things like those I have mentioned here were so important. And how much I regretted not sitting in the sand with her that night.
Sometimes we worry that my daughter is far too concerned with what everyone else is doing or will be doing and not what she herself is doing or will be doing. She always seems so concerned with what she may be missing or could have missed/will miss that she misses everything. She often does not seem to enjoy what she is doing because she gets so wrapped up in watching what everyone else is doing.
I know fear that she may have gotten this from me. Too many times I am looking back or ahead and not enjoying what I am doing. I am worried about what tomorrow will bring or what happened yesterday and not enjoying what I am doing. I think this is partly due to the fact that for a while I thought only of the moment and completely disregarded the consequences of my actions. I lived completely in the moment and was totally dedicated to doing whatever would make me most happy at that exact moment. This is not a good way to go about things either I soon found out.
So I think that in an effort to avoid this behavior I shifted to completely the opposite. I was always looking to what comes next and not what's going on now. What am I doing tomorrow or this weekend? That I have to be at work the next morning instead of enjoying the night I have to spend alone with my wife.
I've realized that I need to focus more on the moment, to enjoy the here and now and to not be rushing off to tomorrow or next weekend. It is good to have things to look forward to but not so much so that you don't enjoy where you are at present. I need to stop worrying about the fact that I may not be perfectly mastering a technique in Jiu Jitsu and appreciate the moment that I am being taught and the privilege of learning from such great instructors. I need to stop and enjoy my daughter giggling as I tease her or makes jokes and stop worrying about what time she has to be at a Girl Scouts function the next day. I need to enjoy sitting and watching a movie with my wife's head on my chest and stop thinking about how much work I have on my desk waiting for me the next day.
I also thought about the fact that there are so many people out there right now who have it so much worse than I do. I know that sometimes I can be overcome by thoughts of sorrow or hopelessness or frustration and that part of that is genetic and part of it is my own obsessing over meaningless crap. I am a lucky man, I am married to a fantastic woman, I have a wonderful daughter, my wife and I have good jobs, and a nice house. I have a wonderful family and amazing friends.
I have lost my father, who was one of my absolute most favorite people in the entire world. But I have not lost everything. And instead of focusing on the fact that I lost someone that I loved so very much, I think I need to try and focus more on the fact that I still have so many people who I love and who love me so very much. And to be grateful for what I do have instead of being so angry about what I no longer have anymore. And I need also need to be grateful for all those years I did have with my father. I got a little over 32 years with him and that's 29 more than Erin got with her Dad. And I need to cherish those memories, instead of regretting that there will not be more of them.
So I just want to say, stop living in the past, stop longing for the future, and live in and love the moment that you are in.
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