wow.

Along with everyone else who bore witness to the extravagant gala held over the weekend in Grant Park, amidst the beautiful skyline of Chicago, i've finally recovered from 2 full days of non-stop rawking. All i can say is, "wow", as i have no other words nor energy that could do justice in describing the sheer pimpness of lollapalooza.

Saturday we arrived onto the scene at about 1:30ish and under the cool grey overcast skies caught Dashboard Confessional, The Bravery, Billy fuckin' Idol, the Pixies, and Weezer. Dashboard was good, they covered "Teenage Dirtbag" which was a pleasant surprise, and did a nice rendition of "Screaming Infidelities" (which in turn made everyone cry into their wristbands, but i had forgotten my wristband this day, therefore missing out on soaking up the tears from 24+ years of inner unknown pain... damn...). After Dashboard and after re-opening my unknown emotional wounds, we pranced over to see The Bravery.

The Bravery were great, but their image somehow didn't seem to fit their sound. They looked straight out of a James Dean/Crybaby movie, and the lead singer actually reminded me of someone named "Nuke" (from Nuke and the Living Dead). They are a dance/rock fusion in a similiar vein to that of The Killers and The Faint. Good, danceable stuff and quite enjoyable. They even trashed their set at the end, which mods them +5 in rawk for me. After this, we revved up for the punk rock man himself, Mr. Billy Idol.

He looked pretty damn good for his age (and the lifestyle he lived). It was one of those things where you have to go, just to pay homage to a man who has done so much for music, even though you only know a couple of his songs. It totally was a throwback into the 80s, but the good 80s. The "White Wedding" and "Rebel Yell" 80s. Yes, he 0wn3d. At this point we stuck around, because i wanted to get a good spot to see legendary grunge gods the pixies.

the pixies. i don't need to say anything more, except mr. black came out sporting his pink button-up shirt, and kim deal in her black mom sweater. i loved it. What was even funnier was that the pixies choice of "refreshing" beverage was a cold bottled beer, whereas with the other bands we witnessed that night, it was bottled water. you fuckin' do it, pixies. they were just as amazing this time, as they were the last time i saw them. i was lucky enough to enjoy both versions of "wave of mutilation" this time around too. yes. i may die now.

Sunday was like being in a heavenly hell for the day. Temps rose way past vagina (to about 101 degrees) when we arrived around 2:30. There weren't many bands that i was pumped to see this day, but the few that we saw, we couldn't of asked for more. Dinosaur Jr. It was great to see this guys back together and just rawkin' with their cawk out. Good ol' grunge rock, and shreddin' guitars. Man, the sound they get, is like a bulldozer ramming thru your 1970's beetle. That was good squishee.

After Dino. Jr., i wanted to check out Tegan and Sara (which I hear Sara passed out on stage due to the heat) but John and i opted to meet our "special someones" at the stage where the killers would be coming out. On this stage, the Satellite Party (Perry Ferrell’s band) was to be playing. To be honest, i had zilch desire to engage in any listening communication when i heard about this. And to be honest, i am glad i didn't do what i had originally set out to do. They made me a fan. I'll definitely check them out in the future (Tony from No Doubt was their bassist, and the guitarist from Extreme, holy shit can he fuckin' shred that guitar!).

The Arcade Fire. THE ARCADE FIRE. They were definitely one of the main highlights of the entire festival for me. I was excited to see them, after hearing so much about them, and boy they didn't disappoint (except that they stole Brian and my idea of starting a band where we would intermittently switch instruments in the middle of songs, damn them, well at least we play the grundel-guitar better then they do). A few lucky members in the audience ended up with a tambourine, a mic stand (which landed about 5 people away from me), drumsticks, and the lead singer (who mysteriously jumped into the crowd and vanished, which we later found out he walked back home to his mom's house). These guys were seriously amazing, and i would force everyone i know to go see them and buy their cd. I could only imagine what a wanted ad for being a member in that band must be:

WANTED! THE ARCADE FIRE IS SEEKING A PIANO PLAYER, GUITAR PLAYER, BASS PLAYER, PENNY WHISTLE PLAYER, AND HELMET PLAYER FOR A NEW ADDITION IN THEIR BAND! YOU MUST BE ABLE TO PLAY ALL THESE INSTRUMENTS.

Finally, the killers took the stage and the park turned into a dance party. If the ground could cave it, was going to, during the killers' set. Seeing them and the arcade fire, made waiting in the 101 degree heat worth it all. I have to give props to the Lollapalooza staff for keeping everyone hydrated and cool by giving out free waters (that were otherwise $3, at the stands) and filling up everyone's empty water bottles (despite the fact the hose water was warm, in that weather, i'll take it). We engaged in a water fight with a couple people on the "otherside of the rail" which helped immensely. Overall, it was an insanely great time.

Some other highlights we had were after Billy Idol, i encountered my next 30 seconds of they are you and i. We saw Greg from Kill Hannah and i nervously approached him and said, "Hey Greg! I don't have anything to say to you, but just wanted to say hi.".

Nice. That was really fuckin' stupid sounding. But either he didn't care or hear me, but asked my name, and i asked him how they were doing on the new album and in 30 seconds it was all over. Fuckin' hell i say the stupidest of things when i get that one chance to talk to someone famous. Maybe next time, i'll just say nothing at all. We also saw Dan from Kill Hannah during the Pixies set, but my after what i felt was my last blunder, we decided to not say anything.

So in the end, i will be adding these cds into my collection:

• The Bravery
• The Satellite Party
• The Arcade Fire
• Death Cab for Cutie

Rawk out!

pixies. weezer. and killers. oh my!

T-minus 2 days until Lollapalooza. I'm pretty excited about the lineup they were able to gather for this. It'll still never be what is was (but then again, nothing ever is), but this year's 2 day festival looks pretty damn pimptastic to me. It's going to be great to see Dinosaur Jr. back together as well as watching grunge's idol the pixies rock with their cawk out again (they still got it, even though Kim Deal looks like she could be my best friend's mom).

Here's the list of bands that i will be looking forward to seeing:

Saturday
Liz Phair (i pray she doesn't play too much of her new avril lavinge-esque crap. Break out some old skewl whipsmart)
Dashboard Confessional (yes, because your hair is everywhere, and i need more tears for my wristband to soak up)
The Bravery
Billy Idol (How could i pass this up?)
VHS or Beta (there's an asian in the band, I've gotta support that)
The Pixies (HEY! Been trying to meet you....)
Weezer (Geek rawk at it's best. Please put on a better live show though.)

Sunday

Dinosaur Jr. (i feel the pain of everyone...)
Tegan and Sara (yes, i like them. plus they sound pretty cute)
the arcade fire
the killers (let's dance!)
death cab for cutie

Bands that I wish I could see, but can't due to a better band playing:

Cake
Primus (i just wanna see mr. les c. rock that bass)
Z-Trip
Digable Planets
G Love and Special Sauce
The Dandy Warhols

Band that I have no desire of seeing:

Widespread Panic (even though i know they put on a hell of a live show, i just don't like them)

I'm hoping for good weather, good beer, and good tunes. I'll check ya when i get back.

and then you die.

I've been toying with the idea of changing the style of my blog... the style that i currently have is even too much black for me... if i weren't so lazy (or better yet, consumed with playing World of Warcraft [WoW]) i would probably design my own, but for now i'll probably just settle for a template they have (btw, my dwarf is level 49 now with a daily increasing bo-staff skill)...

I've had this strange premonition since about the end of high school that i'm going to die somewhat young (40s? 50s?) and it'll be in a car accident. I've tried to not think about it, 'cause the last thing i want it to be is one of those self-fulfilling prophecies, but it's just one of those "strong" feelings (which i hope is bullshit.). I find it kind of ironic that i am saving money for retirement so i am able to live quite well and travel the world when i am old, but at the same time, i feel like i'm not going to make it that long.

I come to find out (after talking with janelle) that i'm not the only one who thinks this. She's known people who said the same thing and i wonder how many people have this same feeling? Does it feel as "real" to them as it does to me? Why is it worth saving this money for the future, or should we just be spending it now?

Wouldn't that be the biggest kick in the pants... you manage to save up a million or so dollars, and you die before you can even spend a penny of it. Think about what you could of done with that money if you just decided not to save it for retirement and spend it as you earned it. I think i smell betty crocker's good ol' dick pie a-baking again.

Anyways, this feeling sunk in a little more a couple of days ago. I had to take a brief detour on my way to work in the morning (brief being an extra 30 min.) because they had blocked off the familiar road i've traveled with two police cars... i had to turn around an find myself a new less traveled unfamiliar route to get to work.

At the time, the only thing i could think was, "man, that kinda sucks, i wonder what happened? oh well, i need to get to work." I'm sure my feeling was shared by the hundred others forced to turn around and have their trip lengthened by 30 min, as well as those feelings of angry, "what the fuck. i need to get to work, why the hell is this closed?".

Then yesterday, as i drove home, i happened to notice that on the corner of the once blocked road, there was a memorial erected by flowers, candles, and pieces of paper that i could only assume were "i love you" and "we'll miss you" notes and pictures. Unknown to the hundreds of people who were turned around that day, there was one or more who would never be turned around again. Someone's who familiar road would never be traveled again.

I suddenly felt like a little bitch for even feeling the slightest bit of annoyance that day, for wanting my 30 min. i had to "waste" back. Even if all we could take all the extra time from those who had been turned around, it would never equal the amount that will never be spent in their lives. This road will become a path that some people will want to relinquish the pain of, but never forget. They will have to travel a new road and path now, without their familiar passenger (yeah, i'm all about over-used shitty cliches).

I just want to say to them, i'm sorry. For their loss, and for my selfishness, ignorance, and numbness. And as apathetic and selfish it may sound, it'll still be the same road for me, and i hope that never changes.

the band kept playing as the ship went down

Everything has been going pretty well lately... plans for the wedding are coming together, invitations are in the midst of being sent out (props to my sis for making them, they're gunna make everyone wanna "Drop it like it's hawwwwt"), i've hit level 46 with my dwarven priest in World of Warcraft (WoW), i haven't crapped myself lately (i'll give you a story about stools sometime in the future... it's a good one, i promise, in fact, I drop one "like it's hawwwt" in it), and i am loving my job. However, there is one thing that is i can see looming out in the distance, that the more i think about, the more i miss.

Our old band, the optionals. (yes, pardon the stupid "the" name. As shown in that Sum 41 video, the "the" thing was the "in" thing. That and god had beamed the name down to us from mars, where she spends her time helping people name bands).

I'm not quite sure as to what I miss about it, but i think it's a hodgepodge combination between playing, writing, and being with friends. It's one of those things that once you don't have, you realize that it became an important part in your life. You tell yourself that maybe it's still somewhere out there, floating around, waiting to be grasped and recaptured. But in reality, you know that it's impossible to those moments that you shared with those important people.
You can pretend that you are, but then you would know that you were lying to yourself and them.

It was always amazing how our songs were written. They would evolve from a miniscule idea that someone had, into a "rawk with your cawk out" song. I have to say, at first it was a little hard listening to other people's opinions about what to do with your song, but i suppose every songwriter has those reservations. However, once you let your walls down, all the little pieces come together and you're left with a masterpiece. It was always interesting because all of my bandmates came from such different musical styles and backgrounds, that you would think that the 'mere process of creating music together would spawn anti-matter as a byproduct, but it worked. Worked damn well. So damn well that now i'm at the point where i miss strumming that D power chord to whatever song we were playing (even when D wasn't in the song).

I've thought about trying to start another band, but i don't know if my heart is in it anymore. As unfair as it may be, i think i'll always compare my new band with my old band and try to recreate those moments. I've also thought about trying to just write some solo songs, but i'm a pretty shy person, and i would get caught in the contradictory feedback loop of "i don't want anyone hearing these songs.." - "why am i writing these songs?" - "i want to write and record" - "i want to play live again".

I'll be posting links to the songs we had recorded a year back soon here and maybe even some of the songs i've been working on, but for now, i'll continue trying to reach for something that i know isn't there.

30 seconds: they are you and I.

So the other day, after meeting my longtime teenage idol (musically, poetically, and spiritually) Billy Corgan (B.C.) at his CD release party (a fringe benefit of living so close to Chicago), my fiancee and I were talking about how most of society seems to hold and perceive celebrities up on a higher standard/pedestal then "normal" people, when in fact they are more or less "normal" people. Sure, the whole world may know of them, but in the end, they are just like you and I. I remember the first time when I got to meet B.C. It was in Ann Arbor, MI. I waited about 8 or so hours in line, just to get a chance to get a glimpse at who I considered was the "great one". I would be face to face with HIM, the lead singer/guitarist of the Smashing Pumpkins. The one and only, who I only knew through the chords and phrases he embedded on a plastic circular disk.

I knew that I would have at most 30 seconds to talk to him, befriend him, and know him as a person, not the uber-rockstar that he was. What was I going to say to him? I've always had this notion that if I had ever met someone famous, to not ask the stupid "interviewer questions" that I'm sure they hear all the time. Stale, overplayed questions along the lines of, "You rock! When is your next album coming out? How has fame changed you? Do you like being famous? Do you like pumpkins or just smashing them? Where did your band name come from? etc..."

I wanted to ask him something from "plain and normal" to "plain and normal". Something along the lines of, "Hey how was your day? So, what did you do last night? What do you think about the Cubs?". Somewhere, in a wish lost, I wanted him to see me as a fan that wanted to know him more as a person. Not as someone who was only interested in him because of his fame.

I had my chance, and tons of questions raced through my head as I slowly approached him. What was I to say to him? Do I take the silent approach and just shake his hand and have him sign my CD? This may be my only chance to ever speak to him, I can't do that.

30 seconds glance by. The only stupid words that I mutter through my pathetic slack-jawed mouth are, "You rock! Keep it up man! Keep writing records and I'll keep buying them!"

What the fuck?!?!?!? I had maybe my one chance in life to talk to B.C. and I tell him I'll buy his records? You dumb mother-fucker. I'm the boy who blocked his own shot. All it took was 30 seconds. And in 30 seconds, it was over. I probably said the most stupid thing anyone has ever said to him. You dumb-fuck alex.

Over the last few years I get the chance to meet him a few more times, all with the same results. Everytime, I tell myself, "Don't let it happen again. Ask a better question you dumbshit." and everytime, the same stupid questions/phrases come out, until a couple days ago. This time I just pose a simple "Hi, how are you?" and that's it. That's enough for me now. Don't elaborate, don't ask something stupid about if he misses the Pumpkins.

The thing is, when I finally come face to face to someone famous, I feel like I have to elevate myself to their level. I feel like, "Wow. They're famous! Don't act stupid. Ask them something meaningful. Don't sound stupid." But when it all comes down (which I've noticed now) is that they are no different then you and I (no shit Sherlock!). It seems that once I have met them, I realize that they are just a plain ol' person. They become mortal. They perceive you as you perceive them, a total stranger. That platform they stand on suddenly becomes just a little lower with each meeting of them. Until one time finally, they become level with you.

There is nothing meaningful that you can say to them, just as there is nothing meaningful they can say to you. I feel like I would hold B.C. in more of a "God-like" status had I never of met him, rather than I how I feel about him now (I've met him probably about 6 or so times). It's the same with all Celebs. We epitomize them as "holier than thou" people, but in reality they could be no more than your dad or your mom. Once you meet them and try to talk to them, you realize, that they are no different than that undiscovered friend. There's nothing special about them. They are humans, just like your or I.

#2.

Yes, I've managed to make myself post again. I am determined to not make this into another three-page filled notebook (i know... i have 1 more post before i get to that point). I think what makes it so hard for me to post is the fact that i feel like i NEED to write something "interesting". You know, the type of "interesting" that when people read it touches them, changes them, moves them (spiritually, emotionally, physically, and bowel-ly). Then i remember, "wait a minute... no one's reading this bullshit anyways, so who cares?". Then it all becomes a little easier.

So, i am beginning a new chapter in my life (wow, that sounds soooo fuckin' cliche). I have a beautiful fiancee that i get to hold dear and true for the rest of life (sept. 9 we etch it into the world), we've moved from Lansing, MI to Palatine, IL, and I've started a new job. There's alot i can talk about, but right now i am in a ranting mood, so you will hear me rant (beware, this is long...)

Fucking local movers.

What was supposed to be an easy KY-Jelly glide from Lansing, MI to Palatine, IL, turned out to be the most complicated differential equation you could ever imagine. First of all, it starts off with our scheduled move date (scheduled 2-3 weeks in advance) on June 19th to be cancelled because the movers want Father's Day off. Totally understandable (in fact i even forgot about it when i picked the day). I'd want that day off too. So, instead of informing me this quite essential information when i call them to schedule the date, they decide to wait THREE days (June 16th) before we are scheduled to move to tell us they can't move us on the 19th.

Talk about getting a slice of the dick pie. So being the non-confrontational person that i am, i immediately try looking for solutions. Now, we were told (and i have voicemail stating this) that we could be loaded up and moved all on the SAME day so we figured the 18th would be good (that way i don't have to miss work). Ha! I'll take another slice please.

Twenty ulcers later, we finally get our stuff from Lansing to Palatine. But wait... it doesn't stop there. We were given an estimate through filling out this spreadsheet they provided us and were told that they would weigh the truck to get the exact weight. Now this spreadsheet looked like a good idea and all, except it couldn't estimate shit. Using their weight estimation formula, we apparently own 4 dining room chairs that weigh a total of 140 lbs! Oh, let's not forget the frail bookcase, that is estimated to weigh 140 lbs that even my grandmother can lift, amongst the myriad of other over estimated items.

After the movers unload, we ask them how much we owe them and how much the truck weighed.

"Just write us a check for the estimate, because we have to re-weigh the truck again on the way back. The office will contact you if you owe more money or if you get money back."

I hestitantly write the pie baker a check for the estimated amount. Now, my dad has taught me a valuable lesson in life. Never pay someone for something until it is 100% done. Once people get the money, they don't care what kind of job they do. How true this is. I can already start to smell the faint scent of another slice.

We try to contact the movers later that week to get the final weigh in numbers but no one is returning our messages or answering the phone. We finally get in touch with someone who will only allow us to refer to him as "E" on Friday. He tells us the driver is missing (with our check) and that they can't find him. "E" tells us he needs to talk with the manager and that he would get back with us on Saturday. We tell him that we are going to put a stop payment on the check if we don't hear from him by Saturday and of course we don't. At this point, I am starting to get full of pie and don't know if I can take another slice.

Fast forward >>> 2 weeks later (3 weeks after we have moved). I get a call from the manager saying that my check got returned. Well, no shit! You should of talked to your employee "E", listened to the messages we left you, or read your e-mail. It seems like he had the check all along. We told him about the situation and told him we have the full intention of paying him, once we get the weight figures. Please... no more pie...no more...

Yup, the weight slips are missing and that is where we stand today. We have full intention on paying them, but the question is how much? Yeah, this turned out to be more of a pain than actually doing the research to figure out and build my own molecular transportor, get the patent, bake some real delicious apple pie, and transport all our items to our residence.

Now, the movers themselves were pimptastic. Nice, funny, laid-back, and very helpful. Even the office people were very nice, but their communcation needs work. Not only to each other, but to their customers as well... If anything good came out of this it's this, the creation of a new word (cover your eyes kids!): son-of-a-mother-fucking-dick-pie-eating-bitch.

I promise this will be my longest post ever. Keep your eye out for the Lifetime movie I am turning this into.
I'm off to finish digesting that dick-pie i've been fed, only to hope that i don't throw it all back up.

let's blog!

So I've finally decided to join in with the ranks of internet blogging. I've never been good at keeping journals (what i do have is laid out in about five 100 page notebooks, all filled about 3/100 of the way with words that have mangled meanings and no direction at all). So this where i can give it another go, without having to buy (or dig out) yet another partially used notebook. This is where i realize that i have no writing skills whatsoever and hope that these words i put down flow into somewhat coherent sentences that can be understood.

So far, i've found the hardest thing about this is trying to think of a witty title to call my blog. To try to stay with my current emo-wannabe-esque phase that I am in (yes, i've finally passed out of my teenage angst phase -the i am pissed at the world and my parents for letting me be part of the middle/upper class in Midland, MI because life just sucks for some reason with a new chevy blazer at the age of 17 - to the now everything is just so damn...well... sad? EMOtional?) i've decided the best name would be something fit for an emo band.

What makes a good emo band name? I know tons of studies probably have been done on this already, but my formula is as follows:

1. Some action verb that captures your deep emo emotion (ex. bleed, hate, cry, disarm, deny, love, quiver, etc...)
2. Name of a girl (preferably someone you used to date or like and the only possession she left you were the scars of the emotional type)
3. Throw in a month or a day of the week for a little pizazz.
4. If all else fails, just make a sentence that doesn't make any sense.

Ex: Saving Sara(h) [the "h" is optional.. whatever seems more emo], Disarming Jezebel, Bleed on Sunday, Sunday's Best, Hating Alicia on Saturday's Drive, the story so far (ha!), eating blue toilet cleaner so my tongue can be blue

So now that is out of the way, i can finally begin my fateful journey into the world of internet journal keeping... (one that'll probably end in about 2 more posts). i now remember why i always shied away from blogging, it takes too damn long to setup... but now it's finally done... and i must replenish all the energy i spent into this meaningless post...

i'll check you lata, and i do hope you come back.

"say hello to everything you've left behind, it's even more a part of your life now that you can't touch it"