Raul Midón
I wish there was a good way to get musicians out there into their target audience.
Or maybe a way for super-ultra-stupid-lazy people like myself to discover music that I like.
Last night I found myself at the neighborhood Starbucks enjoying my usual soy caramel macchiato when over the speakers I heard this really lovely music. I couldn't find the "Now Playing" display, but luckily my wonderfully delightful beverage-sipping companion quickly pointed out the artist in the CD display case:
Raul Midón. It could just have been the high from a great night out, but I really enjoyed the music. And this morning a friend sends me a link to one of his performances. If you're into neo-soul, and you haven't heard of this guy, (or heck, if you like watching good guitar playing) do yourself a favor and
watch his video.
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The Lonesome Crowded West
My mind flounders as the warmth from the setting sun recedes into the distance, slowly chilling the tiny hairs in the back of my neck. I try in vain to recall just one of the thousands of sunsets prior...but fail miserably. It doesn't really matter anyways....The only moment that's important is the one in front of you, staring you squarely in the face.
Not the one a blink of an eye past, or the one that is arriving any second now. Just this one: now. And if you're not paying attention, you'll miss it... that one glorious defining instant when the sky is ablaze in a furious rage of expression; one final culminating moment punctuating the end of yet another wonderful day.
And then it's gone.
So I return to begin yet another round in the great big bout of life, neither anticipating nor regretting each passing juncture. ...Just simply enjoying all the splendor, however trivial, that fills my world.
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Speaking of cuties...
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Target Fixation
Hello. My name is Ernie and I have a serious problem with target fixation.
For the past week, my days and nights have been filled with the sounds of
Death Cab For Cutie (what a great name for a band). I know, "you're slow"... "they're an old band"...
whatever. I just happened to be browsing through my files and forgot they were sitting on there. So I'm on this full-on binge trip, and I'm really digging their sound. And it's all I've been listening to. Just like Coldplay all last week. And Modest Mouse for the three or so straight weeks before that.
But it's not just music. Call it obsession, call it being a geek, call it whatever you like...when it comes to materialistic things, I'll get into a "mode"...lock onto something, and it'll take weeks for me to either convince myself out of it or take the plunge and acquire it. And during that whole time, I have the proverbial "blinders" on, oblivious to options, to alternatives. It's pretty bad. And what's worse is the inevitable buyer's remorse that takes place the millisecond after you've closed the deal on something.
In a way, it's anticlimactic...
For a couple of hours in Alamo last weekend, I finally consummated my eight year long obsession with a certain motor vehicle, the last of the hand-built four door super sedans out of BMW Motorsport's tiny assembly line at Garching. As the owner and I walked up to the black four door, I felt my heart beat quicken with excitement. He gets in and twists the key. With a bark, the 3.6L inline six fired up and settled into a low rumbling high idle that pierced the crisp Saturday morning air. Ah, what a wonderful sound...you can almost hear the years of racing heritage behind that 24-valve high compression motor, a jewel from an era long gone. The aural pleasure was dampened, though, as the owner reviewed the service history...a grand here, another grand there, thousands more to come. Then he walked me through the interior bits... drooping headliner, delaminating door panels, warped dashboard, electric under-thigh bolsters that refuse to retract. Looking over the paint, I notice a severely faded hood, trunk, roof, with several particularly bad wear spots.
Undeterred, I take the marvel out for a spin.
Hell, was I so naive to expect a garage queen from a $10K asking price? Easing out the heavy clutch, those Car & Driver criticisms become evident. Balky, long-throw shifter. Stiff throttle. Numb steering off center. And in this particular car, totally blown shocks reducing the ride to some incredibly bouncy rendition of a Civic with cut springs. Regardless, I was able to quickly acclimate myself to the controls and smooth it out a bit. A few minutes down the road, and the red oil temperature needle comes off its resting point. Time to lean into it...a left turn onto the 680S onramp, and crack open those six throttle bodies.
Hm. Not the whiplash inducing torque monster that I had envisioned. In fact, it didn't feel any faster than your typical garden variety E36 M3. Hrmph. But then... on an open stretch of freeway, I slow to 60 and drop into that magical and highly touted third gear. WOW.... That
sound. And that tach....After about 4500RPM, it just screams for the redline and never runs out of steam, all the while making some of the most glorious music I've heard. Quite unlike that stump puller S50 sitting in my brother's black 2 door. Looking up, I realize I'm instantly at the back bumper of the car in front of me. I can definitely get used to this.
So, years of what most would consider an unhealthy and irrational fixation on a silly inanimate object have come down to this. No awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping, life-changing experience. Just a simple "neat-o".
...But I still want one. :)
And so, just like so many other things in my life, the search continues... This time with more realistic expectations and a clearer definition of what I really want. And faith that one day I'll find my very own death cab for cutie.
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The Courage To Be Great Lies Deep Within Us
...Or so today's fortune cookie leads me to believe.
What is greatness anyways? Is it stunning thirty thousand fans of the opposing team after nailing a 30 foot jumper to win game 7 of the NBA finals? Is it discovering a vaccination that saves millions of lives from horrible pain and suffering? Or is it that exact moment in a young father's life when he lets go of the back seat of his eldest son's Huffy, watching him take off, slightly off balance, on his first two-wheeled bicycle ride?
I think greatness lies in all of us. Regardless of how profound, or how simple. And I
know that
fear is what is keeping us from realizing it. Yesterday was quite a milestone for me...after years of financial struggle, I have finally freed myself from the unnecessary burden that is unsecured debt. This burden has been a source of fear for a large part of my formidable years, holding me back from realizing some potential...
But that's a lame excuse. There's much more to it than such a cheap cop-out (but that's a million boring words of idiotic overprocessing notions that I'll save for another time). For now, I'll simply bask in the sunlight of a world free from commitments -- however fleeting -- and dream little dreams about all those cool useless materialistic things that I could buy. Hooray for shameless wretched consumerism!!
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Little Blue Balls
No, you dirty minded individual... I'm referring to the racquetball kind.
Today kinda sucked. And it all started with me not getting much sleep last night (maybe 2 and a half hours at best?) so I woke up this morning 30 minutes late for my first racquetball game in like 10 years. Not only did I forget some basic things (necessitating 3 trips back to the apartment from the car), but I showed up at work
without my wallet. Manageable, right? Only problem is that my gate key is in my wallet. :( Luckily someone was leaving right when I rolled in and was able to open the door for me. It didn't stop there...the racquetball court is sitting in the gym underneath one of our buildings which is accessible by a key. This is the first time I've used the facilities (and I forgot to apply for a gym key) so I had to borrow from one of my employees (who just happened to be running 30 minutes late this morning).
So, finally, we get everything resolved and get to play 3 games of racquetball -- in which my fellow QA manager proceeds to wipe the floor with my sorry ass. I remember this game being a lot easier when I was 23. When I played against a girl (that I happened to like at the time -- but that's another story). Winded, humiliated, and a bleeding cut on my hand, I still had a
great time. I'm grateful that my good friend and co-worker (and possible doubles teammate if I can prove my worthiness) was quite the educator, helping me understand the finer points of 4-wall racquetball. By the way, racquetball is NIGHT AND DAY different from tennis. It was quite a humbling experience. And Randy, if you're reading, you're
right. Treadmills and PreCors alone ain't gonna build up my wind. (Although I'm sure that the 3 hours of sleep didn't help much either)
Back to work...realized that I was supposed to do a lunch interview.
With no wallet. So I proceeded to drive back home and get my wallet. Fine...a short 45 minute detour in the middle of a manic monday. Until I started getting the feedback from my team about this interview candidate -- "B.S. meter is pegged through the roof"; "no technical depth"; "stonewalls".
Great. Yet another senior level QA Engineering candidate that we're going to have to reject. And I wasted my time getting my wallet. Grrrr...
And it doesn't end there...there's one more capper to this glorious day.
I arrange to have my TV repairman show up at 5:30 tonight to finally put an end to the T.V. madness. So I postpone my usual Monday night workout.
It's now 10 to 7. And no TV repairman.
Oh well, at least there's one positive thing... Thanks to a wonderful CD from my dear friend Bryan, I've been able to recapture a tiny bit of that amazingly beautiful song that I was privy to experience a while back during a concert in a tiny chapel in a quiet Berkeley neighborhood. It's definitely not as good as sitting there in that cold dark church with the voices soaring all around me, but it's close enough.
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C. D. C. B.
I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete
Nothing stood between the firewall and his right foot except for the loud go pedal, coaxing his conveyance to scream past the numbers at the upper end of the rev meter: 7000, 7250, 7500... The white backlit needles emblazoned against the black backdrop of a speedometer register speeds previously unexplored on this stretch of unpopulated concrete highway. But he paid it no mind -- regardless of the countless moving violations and misdemeanor infractions, his mind was elsewhere. The dull green low pressure sodium lights quickened their pace overhead, illuminating the dark cockpit that struggled to contain his soul -- a soul searching for recompense, for redemption. Instead, all it found was a path borne from the destruction of past failed attempts at relationships -- four in particular -- that echoed the emptiness in his life like the howling shrieks of a lonely spirit soaring over a scorched desert.
Even after all these years, they still sound a hollow thrumming, like the headache from a thousand hangovers; a constant reminder of his inability to succeed at one thing in his life. From all outward appearances, things seemed to be just fine. It's only this one facet of living that haunts him, to this day...that one thing that he would give up everything for -- just for one more moment; one more chance at experiencing that wonderful joy of carpe diem, however fleeting...when all the world melts away except for a brief instantaneous glance, a smile, a laugh, a thought.
I don't know your face no more
Or feel the touch
That I adored
...We might as well be strangers
For all I know of you now
He returns back to reality, removing his heavy foot from the light throttle as he simultaneously comes to the realization that Keane + a glass of wine + a melancholy state of mind does not a happy camper make. Quickly softening the pace and upshifting to top gear, he relaxes the remainder of the trip home, forcing himself to think of more productive thoughts. ...All the while trying with all his might to ignore that loud dark voice whispering in the corner of his mind.
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ALL PTY
Unbeknownst to even his closest of closest friends, he harbors a deep dark secret...On quiet Saturday morning apartment cleaning sessions, when no one is looking, he finds great joy and solace in the lines that his 7AMP black Hoover vacuum cleaner makes as they cross the medium pile carpet. He focuses on working his way from right to left, carefully stepping behind the noisy plastic appliance to ensure his footsteps won't appear. However, as much as he tries, he fails to achieve the consistent and evenly spaced lines that he longs for... like so many other things in his life, he falls short of his lofty goals. They always say, "Aim for the stars...if you miss, you'll hit the moon". Little consolation for his inability to get it right.
So he settles for something much less than perfect... accepting the fact that he tried his best, and that's all that he could ask for. When all is said and done, it's not the end goal that matters: it's not how straight the lines are, it's not how fancy your car is, it's not how big your house stands, it's not how hot your wife/husband is, it's not how much money you make... It's how you lived your life.
And so as the Saturday morning slowly turns into Saturday afternoon, with Roselle Nava singing away on his so-called "filipino" WinAMP playlist, the washing machine churning away, he continues his chores with a smile and a glimmer of hope as he looks forward to another fun-filled weekend...
Quick question:
All PooTY? All ParTY? All Pointing Toward Yesterday?
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Nigerian Money Scam Artists Get Creative
Check it out. One of former President Estrada's "courier mistresses" is seeking
my help to retrieve some money she lost. How much money you ask? Oh, about
thirteen and a half million bucks:
Dear friend,
Please excuse me if i have infringe into your privacy. I am madam Laarni
Enriquez, a Filippino by nationality, And once President, Joseph Estrada
courier mistress. Honestly I would like to have an investment and confidant
relationship with you ,if possible entrusting my life time fortune into your
possession,as now I am broken hearted and needs someone to trust, without
remembering my past and forsaken experiences from close confidants and
family.
All i want from you is to assist me make claims of some funds I concealled
in a metallic trunk box deposited in a security company in Coted Ivoire-a
remote states in Africa. The Amount being deposited is much about 13.5
Million United states dollars,as this was the money that was supposed to be
used by the President to acquire some properties in Africa. I will forward
the depository documents to you in my next mail for your perusal.
All, I want from you, now is honesty and sincerity, as soon as this money is
claimed by you, I will look for a way out and sneaked out of Philippines to
travel down to meet you in your country.
Not to mentioned instant benefit of one million five hundred thousand united
states dollars as soon the shipment is accomplish within two days depending
on your liason capabilities because all major cost including shipment
charge,demmurage and custodian charges have already settled.
Thanks in anticipation of your prompt and favourable response to my private
email address: (laarnienriguez@yahoo.fr)
with love,
Laarni Enriquez.
Yeah! Sign me up right away!!!
Sheez...am I the only one that gets irritated at these things? The tragic thing is that there are people out there who get scammed out of their life savings by such ploys.
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Non Starter
The car bucks and shudders severely as he pops the clutch pedal. It comes to a dead stop...Failure, once again.
What in God's name was going through his mind on this damp Wednesday morning that made him decide against his natural instinct to leave the car running in front of his Public Storage unit? He was only going to be five minutes -- tops -- to locate that non-descript box containing the two hundred dollar factory remanufactured Nissan starter. He ordered it
months ago when he first picked up on the tell-tale warning signs of a failing starter, and it's been sitting locked away in a box ever since. The original had gone 216,181 miles...Nothing to sneeze at, but boy does he wish it could've gone just ONE more mile.
Little drops of rain begin to fall.
There's noone here in this tiny gated parking lot...so it's all up to him to heave the 2900 pound hunk of Japanese assembled steel across the slick asphalt. Once more, he slowly eases the car 10 yards to the back of the parking lot. Gathering his composure, he leans on the trunk, pushing and pushing...the white New Balance cross-trainers struggle to gain a footing on the slick smooth surface. Slightly more than walking pace now; hop in, shove it in first, pop the clutch. The dirty four door comes to another halt with even more shuddering, more bangs...but defeat yet again. @*&@(*&#^$!(*&! He lets out a loud sigh and sits, flustered, in the driver's seat -- hm...after 10 years of hard use, it still is holding together reasonably well, with nary a crack.
Maybe it's time to call AAA.
Oh the metaphoric analogies to so many of those ambitious "projects" in his life that were extinguished before ever taking hold. Like that dream 240 track car -- turbo motor swap, stripped interior, Endless ZEAL coilovers and heim joints all around, 16" forged magnesium wheels; that PASACAT video project -- miles and miles of Hi8 footage strewn about, unsorted in small boxes in some house in the middle of East San Diego; or those many failed attempts at relationships with women -- one in particular that was over before it even started, from back when he was a clueless college undergrad; that long-desired trip to Tokyo that as of yet has not materialized into reality; flying a helicopter; getting a pilot's license; the list goes on and on...
Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men (often go astray)
With a renewed vigor (and a sudden burst of inspiration that
second gear,
not first is the preferred starting point
), he once again urges the behemoth back across the lot. (A part of him is grateful that he doesn't drive that 4200lb luxo-bahn-burner that he's longed for the past seven years) This time, lactidosis burning in his calves, he builds a full head of steam and hops in. More shuddering, more bucking, but right before the car comes to a complete stop, the motor quitely stumbles into life. Clutch in, throttle up...Success! "Always listen to your instincts, you freakin' idiot!!" his mind screams loudly into the chilly morning. Legs aching, hands freezing, arms burning, and lungs desperately scratching for oxygen, he heads off to the dealer to get his beloved Nissan (err -- Infiniti) starter replaced.
Something tells me this is a clear indicator for our tragic protagonist to move on to another (more ambitious) vehicle.
Here's to the best handling and most reliable front wheel drive four door that five grand could buy. And the
only one with a limited slip diff, camber correcting multi-link front suspension, a fully counterbalanced and microfinished crankshaft and a 7500 RPM redline. It'll be a sad day indeed when I finally hand you over to another Nissan geek.
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It Was Beauty That Killed the Beast
Call me a dork, but I think a short clip of William Shatner screaming: "KONG!!!" would've made me laugh.
...So if you haven't seen it already, go out and watch it. Nevermind the fact that it's
THREE HOURS LONG. Aside from maybe the beginning part of the film, you really don't notice the time slipping away. It's well worth the price of admission: The CGI was seamless. It was paction acked. Jack Black surprisingly wasn't "Jack Black" (except for that one part in the beginning). And Naomi Watts was freakin' hot (just suspend your disbelief at her falling in love with a 25 foot gorilla). My only complaint is the sound: it wasn't bad, but AMC 1000 ain't no seat-shakin' pant-cuff-vibratin' Mann Village Westwood. Eh...small price to pay for living up here.
It's been almost 10 years since I saw the original RKO version -- did it have the same social commentary and racial undertones that this one did? Or is that me just reading too much into this film?
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Happy Holga Hazards
So I got back
the pics from
my new toy.
Some lessons learned:
- Don't forget to focus.
- Don't make blind guesses at metering. Bring one along or better yet, make educated guesses
- Spend time composing shots instead of firing away blatantly. This ain't no digital camera.
- Expired film is cool. (and cheap)
- Definitely use the flash more, you get some cool effects.
- Shoot more black and white neg
- Lucky (unlucky?) me, my camera doesn't seem to have a lot of light leaks.
- I wish there was more vignetting.
- This is so much fun!!
Since when did things get so freakin' complicated? Printing black & white used to mean 2 settings: aperture and contrast. Fire away a test strip, choose the one you like, and print. Now on my scanner there's all this histogram crap, giving me too many options. So after mucking around for a freakin' hour through trial and error I end up with these variations (the top one is set to full auto).
I really need to take a class or read a book on all this digital stuff. Or hell, buy myself one of 'dem new-fangled Macs -- supposedly they'll magically turn everything I touch into works of art without breakin' a sweat. :)
I'm curious how the roll of slides turned out. We'll see tomorrow.
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Very Superstitious
Writings on the wall
Very superstitious
Letters 'bout to fall...
I don't think of myself as a superstitious person, but a little thing happened today that kinda got me thinking. As I was getting into my car today, I hit my temple
hard on the frameless driver side window. It opened up a tiny cut, letting loose some blood and giving me a small bukol. I guess I had all these things on my mind about what I had to do for the day (add to that the fact that I haven't driven my car in like 2 weeks).
What it reminded me of was a little incident back when I was in my early twenties. On a whim, a couple of cousins and I had decided to go off to Vegas for the weekend. While out there, I got myself into a little rear-ender with a Nevada driver (teenage student learning to drive from her dad, slamming the brakes in an intersection with no stop sign). So when I come back home, the weirdest thing...my Dad asked me if everything was OK. I told him about the accident and he goes on to say, "see, I knew it!" Apparently, he had cut his thumb really bad that weekend and it was a sign that something bad had happened to me while I was out in Vegas.
I don't know...My parents would tell me all these stories about weird stuff that has happened to them, like stuff about witch doctors that get rid of little duendes, the mysterious appearance of patron saints during WWII to protect their towns, little elves kept in glass jars above the mantle, spirits that would visit soon after they had died. And if you hear them tell it, you'd think it really happened... Not sure what to believe; the scientific/analytical part of me doesn't buy into the hullaballu, but another part of me kinda thinks it's possible. After all, we're talking about another country that's completely foreign to me. Not only that, but these things happened years ago, back in the old days. And I know other filipinos that have similar stories/superstitions -- if a lot of people believe in it, it must be true, right? :)
This got me thinking about all those little superstitious things that I do:
- When folding your money in half, always keep the presidents' face outwards because it's supposed to give you good financial luck. (My auntie told me this one)
- If you see a coin on the ground and it's tails, don't pick it up (it's bad karma). Flip it over to heads to give good luck to the next person.
- I never have my bed pointing toward a door -- it's supposedly bad (something about evil spirits coming in and taking you)
- When you give wallets as gifts, always put some money in it (like a $2 bill)
I
really hope that I'm just being silly reading too much into my little bump on the noggin', but it was weird, really -- up until that point, I was having another
great cheery day (despite the rain)... Got a delicious bacon cheeseburger at
George's: Really good, juicy ground chuck patties - they even let me order medium rare woo hoo!! Their bun was just OK though. Next time I'll pass on the grilled onions & bacon and just go for a straight up cheeseburger. Fries were good too. I also had a good productive meeting about a couple of LIKHA projects that we're working on. And I was having fun feeding a couple of rolls through the Holga while I roamed The WC's
outdoor mall.
Actually I take that back. Today
was a
great day. I even got to spend an enjoyable evening with some very good friends eating a nice dinner and receiving an education about the subtleties of ice skating competitions. It's just too bad I couldn't see that one competitor after whom I was given the latter half of my nickname (supposedly she's really good?) It sure was funny seeing Manny jinx the skaters: "fall on your ass, bitch!" And they did! Heh...maybe there is something to this superstition/hoodoo voodoo after all.
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What Haunts You?
(So I'm procrastinating again) ...As part of my performance review, I'm to put together a list of the top five things that "haunt me". I'm really enjoying working for my (relatively) new boss...he's introduced this great way of looking at goals/development plans. Basically, to be happy to come to work every morning, there's really only two things that you have to manage:
- Do I feel appreciated? This is your manager's job to make sure that you're happy with the way you're being treated, whether it be compensation (not just salary!), work environment, respect, etc.
- Do I feel inadequate? This is your responsibility... You need to identify those things in your abilities/skillset that keep you awake at night. Whether it be fear of public speaking, or lack of confidence in your technical skills; they all impact your success at the workplace. Thus, my little homework assignment due in like 10 hours.
Manage these two things well, and you have happy employees. And happy employees are productive employees!!
And before I sign off for the night:
- How the hell do you write a mission statement?
- Taxes really suck...
- ...And so do last minute meetings that force you to rearrange plans that you've been looking forward to all week.
I'm excited! My new toy came in the mail today. Time will tell if this wannabe has any skill to produce something as creative as these other talented folks or if he's just another yuppie poser...
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How To Throw Away a 1.5 Hour Workout
Eat one of these wonderfully greasy bundles of joy:
Maybe it's just me not having had a really bad fast food hamburger in months, but for some reason, this thing was freakin' good! But I ask you...
who in their right mind puts ketchup and mustard on a bacon ultimate cheeseburger?!? There's only one thing that belongs on there:
mayonnaise!
I had a rather bittersweet time tonight. First, it was hangin' out with OJ & Angelo at the Oakland Coliseum to watch the Warriors
not show up to the game tonight, getting their ass handed to them by Shaq and the other senior citizens. I mean, I love Zo and all from those great times with the Hornets, but isn't he like eligible for the discount menu at Applebees? And my God, The Glove is still playing! It's like I never stopped watching basketball! The Warriors should've wiped the floor with these geriatrics. :) The crowd is definitely different from the Sharks game. Much quieter, and more low key. Or maybe we just went on an off night?
I think Angelo's onto something though...I've been to two games with him, and both times the home team has lost. I think we need to watch a Niners/Chargers game and a Giants/Padres game up here. Heheheh. And better yet, a Canucks/Sharks game
in Canada. You know, just to put his theory to the test.
After the game, it was a quick ride in da UPSer's green E34 bomber up the Nimitz Freeway to
Luka's for Bryan's 25th birthday party (part tres). [Man, if he's 25, I'm dancing 7 gongs.] It was quite a fun time chillin' and groovin' to some decent beats. The gurls left early (it is a school night, after all) while OJ, Kevin, Nini and I hung around a bit to chit chat before parting our separate ways and hopping on the BART toward home.
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Priorities, Priorities
I know that I mentally told myself I need to cut back on this writing crap given all the other more important things going on in my life, but I just can't seem to resist...I'm on this weird "high" (or it could just be those two cups of coffee I drank) thinking about everything that this coming year has to offer.
But before I go into that, a question: How do you know when oranges go bad?
Do they go bad? I've had navel oranges in my refrigerator since before Christmas time and I think they're still good. I just ate one and it's super sweet. Do they change color? Grow hair? Smell like boiled gym socks?
Anyways...Tonight I paid a visit to the Reyes clan. It's always so good to see them, not only because of the good meandering discussions about career dilemmas, girls at night clubs, the hidden nuances of filipino dance troupes, and the merits (and downfalls) of competitive eating circuits...no, it's also those little things... Like having full-blown conversations with my four-and-three-quarter-year-old goddaughter over important things like how I'm bajo because I just came from the gym and if she hugged me she'll get stinky and she just took a bath. And seeing two and a half month old Jalen with those tiny eyes trying desperately to process the freakish image of this strange dark filipino man with the deep voice in the old faded-red Nike sweatshirt that's 2 sizes too big. It's times like these when I wonder how I let the stupid things in life keep me from starting a family of my own. Eh, maybe one day...until then, I'm content watching my friends' amazing little life-units grow into actual-sized people with opinions and voices and attitudes of their own.
I'm really excited for this year...it's gotten off to a great start, with me finally letting go of my anxieties at no longer being a technical engineer and learning to leverage my strengths -- and focus on developing those weaknesses that will make me a better manager. Even better is that on top of that, there's this overall joy now that I have a better understanding of which activities, hobbies, skills really make me happy at this point in my life. More so, the fact that
no one can take that away from me.
It's a wonderful feeling.
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AAPL
For all you geeks out there,
check it out... Apple closed at $80.86 today after announcing they're on Intel now.
Weird.
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Intel iMacs
So the Intel-based iMacs were
announced at MacWorld. Hmmm...I wonder if our software will run on those things. If it does, then I have
NO EXCUSE for not buying a Mac.
I wish I wasn't so busy this week -- I would pay a visit to MacWorld and check out all those Apple freaks.
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Botach. 0 Balloons. Call Me Ice Queen
The light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train.
I had a blast in L.A. this weekend. My hat goes off to my fellow
LIKHA dancers and musicians for a
kick ass show. It was a good thing, too, because I roll into work this morning and suddenly the world gets dropped on my desk. It's gonna be a rough year indeed...I'm being presented with a great opportunity to move my career forward in my company, I'm juggling multiple projects outside of work, there's the France/Amsterdam tour (I've never been to Europe) and the Philippines trip (I haven't been back since 1977!) -- and with some luck and a lot of money, my brother and I can catch MotoGP and F1. But before all that: a brief recap of the World City Festival before the fresh memories fade from my brain (warning, this gets kinda long)…
ThursdayWe all met up in Fremont on Thursday night to load up the vans. Earlier in the week after practicing percussion, I sat down with Ed & Angelo to make a list of all the instruments that we needed for the show. Stupid me forgot to print it out at work and was too lazy to power up the laptop at the house -- so I relied on memory (mine & everyone else's) to make sure things were all there. Finally left at close to 8 instead of the planned 7PM because of a few folks who were late (who shall go nameless). I'm glad that Gary brought his walkie talkies because I couldn't find mine. They sure made the drive entertaining. Remember that bit about a checklist? Well, about two and a half hours into the drive, I pinged Angelo on the little black Uniden radio: "Angelo, did you pack the tanggunggo stand?" You see, I alone had packed all the big bulky items while the rest of the folks ate inside -- it helps my concentration when I'm not around a lot of anxious talking people. And that's not all...we left the kulintang stand. And an octavina (for Bagobo). Damnit, I wish I printed that checklist out...this trip is off to a
great start. Well, at least we had some fun on the way down trying to get the overhead DVD players to work in our vans. And I was crackin’ up at Tin’s “over, ksshhhhh” after every radio communiqué. But boy, do those vans SUCK. Uncomfortable seats, no high RPM power, and understeer up the wazoo with those all season tires and two tons of steel. The satellite radio, DVD players, were a nice touch though – and a tape player for my iRiver!
We made good time and
rolled in around 1AM. While everyone stretched outside, I walked in with Warren to go help in the checkin process. The lady at the front desk (what are they called again?) goes to lookup our reservation but can’t seem to find it. Hm, that’s
odd… So she searches by confirmation number and eventually finds it – turns out we didn’t have any rooms booked for the night. And we were only booked for Friday night, no rooms for Saturday either.
Right.Not wanting to stress out the situation further, I stepped outside to smoke a cigarette and let Warren do his thing. To make a long story short, we all agreed to split up the cost among the group (~$50/person) with Warren fronting the cost. [In the end, it all eventually worked out with the show paying for the Thursday & Saturday night rooms.] It didn’t hit me how exhausted I was until I got to our room – I was totally delirious, unable to focus and on the verge of hurling (it could’ve been exhaustion, or it could’ve been that cigarette, my first in a
long time).
Friday
So…things looked up on Friday. While the rest of the group ate breakfast and practiced at the hotel before the run-through at the theater, Angelo, OJ, Rich and I went to Home Depot in Eagle Rock to go build ourselves a tanggunggo stand. $65 and 20 minutes of design decisions later, we were back off to the hotel room with 4 pieces of 1x2x8 pine, eyelets, twine, bolts, washers, wingnuts, drill bits, and a 3/8” variable speed reversible drill (corded!).
But before that, it was a much anticipated stop at Roscoe’s House of Chicken N’ Waffles on Pico & La Brea. Mmmm, mmmm...good. Way better than the non-Roscoe’s joint in Oakland. Better waffles, juicy chicken. The grits, however, were just OK. Maybe they needed more butter?
So the Home Depot trip (and some drilling in the hotel room) took care of the tanggunggo stand. Foam and some creative muslim garb took care of the kulintang, and Bryan’s brother took care of the octavina. Phew, disaster averted. If I have to do this again, I’m never going without a checklist.
After a decent practice session at the theater, we all headed back to the hotel and rested. OJ, Vince and I took a stroll around the music center (a block away) to grab some photos. Quite relaxing. For dinner after practice, I took a bunch of us out to Tommy’s Original Hamburgers in Eagle Rock. Mmmmmm…heartburn.
Later that night, courtesy of Angelo’s cousin, the musicians (sans one) got into the club on the roof of The Standard. Definitely had a great time. (:
SaturdayI don’t know if it was this particular batch of performers or the stress of Thursday’s misfortunes or the emotional green room scolding by Herna, but
everyone rocked it. (Except for that small miscue in the first dance of the first show by yours truly – sorry!!) There was a moment during Bagobo were I finally experienced what all the other musicians have been telling me about. Sitting at the base of the tanggunggo stand playing that rhythm melody, I briefly turned around,
really listened to the 5 of us all going at it on the instruments (and we were
on!) and looked at the dancers moving in time, with the audience behind them totally riveted, the bamboo poles pounding into the stage…I got chills up and down my spine. I was so happy reveling in that very moment, on the verge of breaking down, I had to regain composure and keep on playing. Got damn! what an
amazing feeling. I wish I could have it all the time. The second show was even better, with the audience so completely responsive. Oh, what fun.
Afterwards, everyone took a much-needed break resting in the hotel rooms. Lunch was Mexican food at Ye Olde Taco House #1 (I’m not kidding) that we spotted the day before on the way to Home Depot. It was a block away so we all enjoyed a nice 10-minute saunter in the lovely, sunny SoCal weather. The food was just OK…not enough guacamole in my carne asada burrito. And they forgot the sour cream on my rolled tacos. And the horchata wasn’t sweet enough for my tastes. But at least they had all meat burritos! Woo hoo! After eating lunch in the courtyard, I decided to head off to Santa Monica Pier to grab some photos at sunset. Vince and Christian decided to come with, but fools left their key in the hotel room!! So we ended up being a little late to wait for security to reopen the room. We missed sunset by a few minutes. Oh well – at least I was able to see the beach.
And fair warning to all you amateur night photographers out there. Christian got hassled
everywhere he went because he was carrying a tripod. An undercover cop actually escorted him to the security office to sign a waiver that he wasn’t going to use the photos professionally. And, he was told not to put down 3 legs on the tripod (only use it as a monopod) because it was a
safety hazard. Got-damn we live in a litigious country. Un-f*ckin-believeable.
So anyways, made it back to the room in time to hit Citywalk for Bryan’s pre-birthday festivities (Happy Birthday Bryan!). We had warm up drinks and appetizers at Hard Rock, while the others had Cuban food at Versailles (I shoulda tried some with them, I heard it was really good! – oh well, next time na lang). After that, Rich & Mur suggested a karaoke bar - Whizzo the bartender recommended
Dimples in Burbank. Looking at the website now, it turns out that this was the first karaoke bar to open up in America. Interesting. Bryan and all the girls got up to do Erotic City and had a great time. (Incriminating video to be posted later). On the way back to the hotel, stupid inebriated me forgot to close out my tab (and so did Manok). So one van headed back to pick up the bill. OJ affectionately signed mine, “Andre.”
Yeah. Picked up some folks at the hotel and off we went to
Little Temple in Silver Lake to finish the night off with more drinking and dancing. It sadly ended up getting finished by some
whack-ass scratching. But nonetheless, we all had a great time! Back to the room for one last hurrah -- a tsismis session before we all went to sleep, where "one conversation toppled into another".
Sunday
Strangely enough, I was able to pull off the six hour drive back home with no issues. The exhaustion didn’t really hit me until after we dropped off the vans (while we were eating dinner at Tony Roma’s). And on the way home from Fremont on the San Mateo Bridge, there was a stretch where I think I was asleep. (Mental note…make sure you don’t assign all sub-25 year-olds in your van). At least I was able to exact some revenge, waking up the sleeping younguns with a nice big whiff of Cowalinga's finest through wide open windows. hehehehe.
Pictures
here.
Well, that’s it... If you got this far, you're probably wondering about that
title. The picture is of a place right across the street from Roscoe's. Any theories? (We never figured it out).
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The Trials and Tribulations of the Trinitron Television
So the saga began over four months ago when the picture on my TV went black... Through the workings of a South City TV repairman named Dee, it was miraculously brought back to life a few weeks later, but the repair lasted only about a month before it blew out again. After several missed appointments (one because he was rushed to the hospital for something serious) he was finally able to come out on a slightly rainy Saturday and discover that there was something else wrong with the set which was causing premature failures of some secondary component. So he ended up pulling all the guts out so that he can diagnose the circuitry at the shop where he could control the voltages on the board. I had rescheduled for him to come back out a few weeks ago, but he had to go to the hospital to tend to his mother who had fallen ill. Not one to press for a reschedule (and because of all the holidays), I haven't scheduled an appointment for him to come back out -- until today.
This morning I receive a phone call from an unknown phone number. It was Dee, saying that the shop was flooded due to the rain
and that the power supply on my board had gotten damaged. He will call again later today after he confirms that the unit is working again.
Hm. Something tells me it's not going to be good news.
Anyone as curious as I am to see how strong the glass is on a 32" Trinitron picture tube? I wonder what kind of a sound a TV tube makes when it implodes...
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Other People's Lives
this is how it seems to be
other people's lives seem more interesting cuz they aint mine
well i'm fed up and i need to go
out of existance or just down the road forever...
Through the scattered clouds in the dark night sky above, spots of starlight sparkle over the tiny metropolis below. Through the dimly lit buildings and empty alleyways, the wind blows a chilling reminder of winter. And yet it fails to diminish the warmth of laughter and dancing that fills the multitude of night clubs and restaurants below – parties raging in anticipation for the arrival of a new year.
On 2nd and Natoma, hips gyrate to the beat of music from years gone past, while alcohol flows generously from the bottles and taps, straight to the weary minds and souls worn thin from a year of painful transgressions, of wild accomplishments, of tireless career pursuits. And yet on this joyous night, his mind struggles to muster up the courage to approach that lovely young twenty-something smiling from across the room…
40 minutes south, a loving mother tends to her famed ginataan, an annual New Year's tradition carried on in her household for generations. Stirring ever so delicately, you can almost taste the savory tapioca and mochiko balls as they do a delicate dance with the sweet langka and bananas in the creamy warm stew. Her children fight with all their might to stay awake on this one rare night when Mom & Dad say it’s “OK” to stay up well past their bed-time.
To the east, a father tends to his newborn, the prodigal son. His heart fills with dreams of a Pro-Bowl NFL quarterback, leading his team in a 4th-quarter-comeback game-winning two-minute drill to victory in Superbowl-fifty-something. But that’s well beyond 2006. It’s still a comforting vision though, helping to mask his nervousness when faced with next year’s worries: mortgage payments, an overbearing boss in a dead-end job, rising day-care costs, a wife that will undoubtedly want more from her life…
And in a quaint studio apartment, she turns another page on her engrossing novel, indifferent to this milestone in her life. Tomorrow is just another day, and she finds herself comforted by a nice hot bath on this chilly New Year’s Eve. The driving piano chords of This is the Last Time echo throughout her apartment as she quietly puts down her book to soak in the solitude of a nice quiet evening to herself. She looks forward to what tomorrow will bring…
Back to the crowded SOMA restaurant, we find our tireless protagonist struggling against his deeply entrenched old habits and fears. Will this coming new year bring a renewed vigor and passion for life? Maybe not…he spends the remainder of the evening in inaction, paralyzed by a lethargic refusal to act on that primal instinct burning from within. Opportunity after opportunity passes him by, as track after track of good music blares through the modest speakers above. It looks like 2006 is off to a great start.
Happy New Year to you all…may the coming year fill your life with wonderful surprises, lasting love, amazing dreams, and shining examples of hope for us all. Here’s looking back at a great 2005 and looking forward to an even better 2006…
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