Return

I know my vast readership has been eagerly waiting for my much anticipated return to the blogosphere. How did you all go ten whole days without devouring new nuggets of wisdom and insight? I have no idea either.

The Spirit Bound trip went a lot better than I had expected. I was worried about not having anyone to hang with, but it turned out that was okay. I found a niche with a couple 30 something guys who didn't have their wives around, and that was a lot of fun. I also was charged with being the resident "adult" in a hotel room of 3 graduated high school/college kids, which I found enjoyable. I'm still somewhat stunned I was given this position of authority though. We chilled out, I drank wine out of a paper coffee cup, and we prank called quite a few people. Now, I wouldn't describe myself as an expert prank caller, but I was fairly proud of my handiwork that night. Here they were.

1. Told a man who hates "The Office" that he won a walk on role on "The Office" (he hung up rather quick)
2. Told a sister of a guy in my room that he had wet the bed, and we weren't quite sure what to do, especially since the urine was gray. This was the best one, as the girl actually believed me for about a minute and flipped shit.
3. Called a room of all females and asked them to confirm their 2:00 AM appointment with Jake's Totally Nude Exotic Dancers.

Needless to say, I had fun.

We made a couple stops along the way, an afternoon in Hershey, PA and an afternoon in Philadelphia, where I lectured the bus on the history of the Revolution and Philadelphia's role in it. Some pretty great photos were taken I think, of me reading various history texts on the steps of Independence Hall, etc, etc, etc. I bought a paperback collection of the writings of Thomas Paine to commemorate my visit.

The final destination of the tour was Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. Now, when you think beach, you usually don't think Delaware. In fact, nearly nothing makes you think Delaware. But, give them props, the beach was pretty nice. Nothing like that one in Cabo Frio, but you take what you can get. One fun thing I did, I went to a British fish and chips joint with one of my crew, run by an actual Englishman from London. We chatted a bit, had a pint of Newcastle, and had what I would deem extremely authentic fish and chips. I was pleased. The sight of all those Union Jacks flying just made my heart swell with the strains of "Rule Britannia." The interior was decorated with tube signs, I think I sat next to Notting Hill Gate. There was also Leicester Square and Covent Garden. Looking at the signs made me think of when I actually headed for those destinations. Or the time when me and Ryan were sprinting around the West End in the rain, looking for the theatre with Spamalot. Good times.



I always found it somewhat nerve wracking to spend time with church people, especially once I went to college. Because, well, people change, and those that stay at home do not see the changes taking place. They just see the end product, and typically make judgments. Needless to say, I always felt a great pressure to conform to others' ideas of how I should act, how I used to act, how I should act in relation to my mom (who occupies a prominent place in the church social hierarchy). This was beginning to irritate me. So I decided on this trip to try and ignore such impulses, and just be who I am, cliché as that sounds. And it turned out for the best. It's just ridiculous, all this personality tweaking that goes on trying to impress a girl, or fit in with a group, or whatever. Kind of a shame, actually. It was liberating, really, to talk the way I talk, act the way I act, and not feel any sort of regret. It helped to be around like people though. It was pretty funny watching David run for the bar once we pulled up to our hotel on the beach. (that's not all we did)

End of story, it was a good trip. SB is one of those things that recently, I had viewed as more of an obligation than a choice, and treated it as such. But I think I realized, I do enjoy doing it. With that though, I won't be going next year, for the reason that I will hopefully be in London during the tour. That, and I think I need to stagger my appearances. I don't want to rely on SB for my everything. However, I enjoy it when I do participate. And it was a good show this year.

I'll try to post some photos on my site, I have some cool ones of me geeking out in Philadelphia and the sunrise over the beach.

I'm going to start going out of town more often, if it means the Twins will win 10 in a row.

Equalization

Recently I purchased one of the above items. It's an Optimus 310-2025 10 band graphic equalizer. What exactly does that mean, you ask? What does it do?

Well for starters, it allows you to fine tune the stereophonics of your music on ten frequencies. It allows you to increase your IMX output and expand it. Additionally it aids in the dubbing and recording of tapes.

So basically, I don't know what the hell it does. In all reality, as I fumble around with the different sliders and buttons, I'm probably subliminally making everything sound worse. Actually, sometimes I for sure make it sound worse, as this strange hissing noise emanating from the left speaker sort of makes me want to put my head through the nearest wall. Were it not for one important feature, it would most likely (at this stage of my audio equipment knowledge), be completely and utterly worthless. A bane upon my existence.

Thankfully, it also has a spectrum analyzer, which is maybe one of the simplest pleasures known to man. Whenever I walk my dog, I typically wish I could be entertained as easily as he, smelling other dogs' piss or rolling in the grass. Compared to that, my entertainment needs are quite complex. I usually need to go do something, mostly involving spending money on some various sort of beverage or ticket. Well, it turns out, I can be cheaply and easily entertained for hours watching the little colored bars on my stereo go up and down.



Remember the Bud Powell CD from the last post which I should not have purchased? Well, I bought it, and put it on last night after getting home from a baseball game. That's when it really hit me, how mesmerizing this damn machine can be, given the correct material. I think the undulating lines of bebop might be ideal, especially on a relatively soft instrument like piano. It's like I couldn't tear my eyes away from the thing, I was sucked into it. Like a vortex (great word, I love that word). Sharp spikes when he hit a chord, the constant up down of the walking bass, little random tinkerings in the upper frequencies as a Charlie Parker line was blazed out. The literal visual representation of music making at its best, it was intense. It's kind of like if an artist were to attempt to paint, I don't know, Beethoven as he was composing. What would it be like, the artist at the moment of creation? Obviously, this is not the same, but it's kind of crazy to not only hear, but also "see" amazing art. Or maybe I'm just really easily impressed, like a five year old. But really, if anyone ever comes over, I'm playing this, and seeing if they don't freak right out. There's definitely a certain poetry to it, a nimble dance over the keys captured in green, yellow, and red.

In other news... what other news? I'm thinking of purchasing one of the new iPhones when they come out, I luckily already have AT&T. Not only do I think it will be useful in my new capacity as a law student, but it would be sort of invigorating to have the cool gadget for a while. Of course, that doesn't say much, when any of my friends get a "cool gadget," I usually look at it with nonchalance. I do like the idea of having an iPod, a phone, and a computer in one though.

Went to the ballgame last night with some people. Twins won, which is always a good thing. I tallied up my expences, and thanks to student night, I got down to the dome, got a ticket, and two hot dogs all for less than $10. A very good deal. The catch is, you're going on student night, which means you get stuck sitting in general admission, which means you're sitting in bro hell. I mean, shit, where the hell do these people come from? First I almost had two black girls have a bitch-fight in the row immediately behind me, then I was next to a bunch of people who were wearing Jack Daniel's baseball jerseys and had brought their own private stash of Busch Light, then I was next to a bunch of drunk frat boys who were being complete fucktards. I must admit thought, it was pretty hilarious to watch some other guys try to get their girlfriend out of the stands and down the stairs, who just happened to be completely pissed (trashed, for you non Britspeakers). I've never seen anyone fall horizontally into a line of Metrodome seats before. I hate that place, can't wait for the new park in two years.

Yesterday I also checked out Lifetime fitness as a guest of my member mom's. That's a whole other story.

I'm heading out of town tomorrow for 10 days on a choir tour, so don't hold your breath for any new updates. I'm fairly nonchalant about the whole thing, my vigor for the purpose of it probably faded when I graduated from high school. But my mom directs it, and she likes me to go, so I go. Plus, I mean, it's always nice to play. But I think this is the last time. In an effort to make the tour non-lame, I'm going to be giving a series of informative history lectures on the revolutionary era. I realize that sounds like the epitome of lameness, but I'm hoping my style of presentation and the fact that I'm going to be talking about REAL HISTORY, not the soft ass shit they teach in high school, will enlighten and entertain some people. In any case, I'd encourage my vast readership to consider attending either one of three performances. Saturday, June 28th at 7:00 PM in Waterloo, Sunday, June 29th at 9:30 AM in Waverly, or Sunday, June 29th at 7:00 PM at my church in Apple Valley. It's my mom's pride and joy, and I have a couple cool trombone licks. Come if you can, get the details here.


That's it for now. I have to chauffeur my dog to my dad's place in St. Paul, then probably go hang at the Electric Fetus for a while. Big night.

P-Bread

Just chillin' at a Panera, happened to have my laptop with me, figured this was as good a time as any to post some musings. Anytime I come across free wi-fi, I'm somewhat intrigued, as we don't have wireless at home, so I have to use my mom's iMac. Beautiful as it is, it's weird to not have my usual arsenal of bookmarks and the like to browse upon. Me and the internet have a strange relationship. Billions, possibly trillions of pages of information to peruse, yet I'm seemingly locked into reading the BBC, the Minnesota Twins, facebook, and CNN, in addition to my e-mail. Other than that, it's like I don't know what to do. Thank God now I can expand into Fire Joe Morgan and Office Tally.

Panera is such an interesting place to people watch. People watching, unfortunately, is a lost art in the United States. Maybe it's because we're all so damn busy, we don't have time to just sit around and observe. That's really too bad. We should learn from our French brethren and just chill the fuck out a bit. But then again, all French people are horrible, we would never want to imitate them at anything.

It would be intense to own a sidewalk café to try and encourage this behavior. Someplace in the Parisian style, where you can sit down, order a coffee or a pastry, and be entitled to that table for however long you wish. That's the thing about a true sidewalk café, you're not so much buying an espresso as you are leasing a bit of real estate. And it couldn't be one of those shitty ones, like many of the ones I saw in Brasil. It would have to be nice, with metal tables and chairs, and a wide sidewalk to spread out on. On a busy street, so there would be much to observe. Maybe that will be my retirement project. My retirement projects now include owning a jazz club, owning an English pub, becoming a rock god, and owning a sidewalk café, so I guess my work is cut out for me.

That's beside the point. The point is, the people you see here. Over there is a gaggle of old retirees, clucking loudly over coffee and some form of soup. Hair done up just so, pearls weighing down their necks, taking those little sips of decaf. Then there's the people who are probably just retired, who are surely in some sort of state of denial, fighting the power that nature inevitably has over their previous good looks. They attempt to be stylish, but they're only stylish in that AARP sort of way. Of course, right in front of me is the dude on his laptop, looking exceedingly stressed out. Sort of a prerequisite for owning a laptop that operates on Windows. You have to be burdened down by the weight of capitalism, of business. Outside to my right, there is what I would consider to be a pretty attractive young woman, sitting alone, eating a sandwich on whole wheat. It has to be on whole wheat, it always is. It seems so odd, why would someone so attractive be eating alone? At Panera? Shit, if I was eating alone, I'd probably run into McDonald's or something, complete the pathetic story. (Sidenote, I actually did this last night at work. I immediately regretted it)

A group of what I thought was a Catholic women's group was sitting across from me, and I was pretty sure they left about 20 minutes ago. However, in reality, they migrated to the door area, where they found a friend and have been talking to her, standing up, since whenever they thought they were leaving. And they're being real frekking loud. It's always the laugh, the loud laugh, that gets me. A cackle, as it were.

Anyways, I should probably go. I bought go irresponsibly purchase an R.E.M. album at the half price bookstore. Or maybe a Bud Powell CD, if it's still there. More accurately, I should save said funds for the new Sigur Rós album coming out next week. I recently got an iTunes gift card from my dad, which I used to download the Hvarf/Heim CD. I wish I would have gotten something else, because their music is so stunning, it's really only appropriate to own it in physical form. So anyways, I'd highly recommend it. I especially like the track "I Gaer." Can't wait to get the new one that comes out next week.

From Panera, signing off.

Downtown

Last night, I went downtown. As usual, I took the light rail. I always get shit for taking the train, I don’t quite understand why. There’s something about public transit that seems a lot more real to me than driving my car. First of all, you don’t have to dick around with parking. Secondly, it’s a cleaner form of transportation. Note how I’m not saying a green form. That electricity has to come from somewhere, and I’m betting Metro Transit isn’t buying wind energy quite yet. But that’s beside the point right now. Thirdly, I think it’s enjoyable to be with the people. It’s like you’re more in touch with the pulse of humanity, the essence of the city. Maybe that’s just all bullshit, but I’d much rather take the train, and I don’t care what the others think. It's like they consider it unmanly, or some shit like that. Contrary, I would say.

I had initially gone downtown to hopefully listen to some jazz. Unfortunately for that idea, some plans changed, and I ended up not going. Shitty. In retrospect, given the twist, I should have tried to get a rush seat for the Minnesota Orchestra, as they were playing Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Scheherazade,” which is wicked intense. But given my casual dress, I kind of got self conscious, and didn’t go. A poor choice. Although, it would have been kind of lame to go alone.

I ended up hanging at my friend’s condo; we grilled and chilled out a bit. By no means not a good time, but just not exactly what I had been expecting. It was fun to be with old friends, newly married friends, and the like. But it just reminded me of a couple distinguishing factors that set me apart. I think the big thing is that whereas most of the people I know from high school are entering the job market, moving out on their own, and starting to make an actual income, I’m not. For me, all that is on hold for an additional three years as I complete law school. Of course, the advantage of those three years is an almost guaranteed employment. But still, I feel like I’m in a state of arrested development. My friend Josh has a job at General Mills and is pulling in $60,000 a year. I am an hourly wage slave at Walgreens, and spend most of my income on music and coffee, saving the rest to buy a new computer. Oh yes, and I also live in my parents basement. Forgot about that part.

I sort of feel like they treat me like a manchild or something. Now, the man boy lifestyle has been sufficiently chronicled in both story and song, but this is different. This is coming from people who seem to think they have exited the adolescence of their college years, that they are somehow developmentally above those of us who elected for further schooling. In this particular case, I would say that assumption is incorrect. Different priorities, that's the key. If I purchase a CD instead of using it to buy a car or an HD DVD or something, it's not wrong. Different priorities.

I used to think that the Iron Triangle of Farmington, Apple Valley, and Lakeville was the center of the universe. Everyone I knew, everyone I cared about lived within those three borders. Now it’s like I’m on a desert island or something. All those people are gone, like a modern day diaspora. I hate that to see anyone, it consists of this huge commute and this complicated fucking around with the phone. I loathe using the phone. It's like a device used to turn what would otherwise be perfectly normal speech patterns into gibberish. I don't know what does it, but there's something psychological about the phone. I hate it. That's the cruelty though, it's so necessary.

Anyways, it's also tough with the fact that my people at Luther are now dispersed throughout the upper midwest as well. Suddenly, everyone is off doing their thing. And unlike years past, September is not bringing us back together again. So who stays close? I guess I'm really not too worried about that. Not with most people. Life seems to go on.

This was a sort of random post, sorry. I need to find some more focused stuff to write about, but I was sort of pissed off. Anyways, I have to go be Walgreens' bitch again. I'll be glad to get a real job. In three years.

Renegades

I want to include this Rage Against the Machine music video, simply for the fact that two of my very favorite Americans, Tom Paine and Cesar Chavez, make a cameo appearance. Along with their fellow renegade political thinkers Sly and the Family Stone and LL Cool J.




"But when principle, and not place, is the energetic cause of action, a man, I find, is every where the same."- Tom Paine

Almost

The past few days, I have been setting off every electronic sensor I have passed through. You know, the ones at the front of Best Buy, Target, Walgreens, etc., etc., etc. Be it entering or exiting, I kept setting them off, and had to be searched for contraband. But I never had anything. I was starting to get excited. I thought maybe I was emitting some sort of bio-electric pulse or something, like the X-Men do when they're first discovering their powers. As I can recall, I hadn't been exposed to any nuclear radiation or been bitten by a genetically engineered animal. Bio-electric pulse was really the most logical explanation, probably on the way to being able to shoot bolts of lightning from my eyes or something. Who do you contact when you think you're mutating? Is there some sort of secret government agency? That's typically how it works in the comic books and movies. As I toiled at the pharmacy America trusts, I half expected to be whisked away to some seedy underground bunker by a Delta Force team.

Then I discovered that I had just forgotten to take the electronic sensor out of my new wallet. Mystery solved, but not nearly as interesting.

Shit like this...

Shit like this just makes you angry...


Something does not seem right here. Oh yeah, maybe it's the complete lack of responsibility on the part of the United States government. On the Bush administration. Insane.

Usually, I don't want to be that guy who just posts stuff he finds online. I'd rather create my own words. But this was just a little too good to pass up.

Urban Biking

Today, I made the idiotic and quite insensible decision to ride my bike instead of drive my car. It may or may not have been one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.

Now, to be sure, the terror wasn't from my own lack of cycling skills, or any sort of dramatic loss of control. In fact, I dare say I'm a quite capable bike rider. I mean, I've been working at it since I was 8 or 9. First, I conquered my neighbor's driveway. Later I mastered the art of going off the pavement. Once I advanced in age, I even entered a few organized bike rides, once riding 60 miles through the worst weather south-central Minnesota can throw at me. And as my only fully controllable mode of transportation in Nottingham, I became quite adept at biking in an urban environment.

However, apparently biking in the UK is not like biking in your average American suburb. Now I can see why people here don't bike.

I mean, from one standpoint, biking makes perfect sense. Here are three benefits I can think of.

1. Become more fit/encourage a healthy lifestyle
2. Reduce carbon emissions
3. Save money

All of these are positive, but it's hard to encourage biking as a sustainable and viable mode of transportation when every trip consists of navigating a shooting gallery of Hummers and psychotic soccer moms in their Dodge Caravans. It's like people couldn't even comprehend that those white lines at intersections served some sort of purpose. Or that anyone would be foolish enough to actually try and use them. Completely oblivious to any sort of activity outside of their own little metal carcass. It was downright frightening. Downright negligent lack of awareness on the part of Apple Valley's motorists.

Secondly, the sidewalk that I rode on. You know those dirt paths through the mountains that Chinese villagers have been fleeing the earthquakes on? Well, I would bet that would have given a smoother ride than the bike path along Country Road 42. Probably less hazardous as well. A hell of a lot more scenic.

I wish I could blame the fact that sweat inevitable occurs when biking on someone. But the fact that you're always on the brink of death surely causes you to sweat more. So there.

I mean, what the hell is wrong with these people? Are they legitimately insane? Or are they just supremely ignorant of the idea that someone may choose to ride a bike instead of drive a car? I mean, of course, it's a ridiculous idea. Why would I ever want to ride my non-emitting bike and become more fit when I could drop $50 in gas, sit in traffic, become fatter, and emit some noxious gases in my SUV? That would make no sense, especially for those trips less than 5 or so miles from home.

Okay, enough of that. For a fun diversion, why not check out some sweet photos of my super-sweet trip to Brasil? The photos got a bit out of order when I was uploading, but I bet you'll get the hang.

Jazz Orchestra Brasil Tour

June 5th

Today is June 5th, a day which normally poses no inherent quality. But for me, I guess today is somewhat of a special day, as it marks a year since I returned to the United States from England. From henceforth, I will no longer be able to say, "Well, a year ago...." I thought about posting a little something on my English blog to commemorate this day, but it didn't seem right. That was a chronicle of things that happened, that occurred. It's been now forever sealed, a document to remind me of what I did, not how I feel about what I did when I came back.

I'd lie if I didn't say it was a bit bittersweet. One of those things which didn't really strike me until late at night, when things tend to strike. Flashes of Nottingham swimming through my brain. For some reason, one of the most vivid memories that comes back is biking from the flat to the Uni, typically for baseball training. It's like I can retrace every meter of that ride, how I went about the roundabouts, navigated the crosswalks, avoided the bus shelters. A strange thing to remember.

This time of the year doesn't do anything to help either. The weather is shitty, not in that pleasant sort of depressing English way, but just shitty. Plus, it's always hard to come back from college, and suddenly be away from friends. Even when they're just a phone call or a short drive away, it somehow seems like an ocean is in between. It's difficult to get used to the lifestyle where every interaction needs to be meticulously planned out. Ideally, as in college, everyone is just a short walk away. Everything is fluid, plans can be quickly turned around and rearranged to accommodate friends. When everything is now a 20 minute drive away, that has to change. Which kind of blows. Plus, I'm sick of driving everywhere.

Bottom line, I'm starting to get bored.

I've been attempting to occupy my considerable freetime by cleaning out the basement at my mom's, where I currently reside. Frankly, it's been a bit frustrating. I feel overwhelmed with mountains of worthless shit. Stuff that in the past was meaningful, but now, just seems to me relics of a past that is no more. I just don't want all this stuff around anymore. It's not who I am after four years of college. After June 5th. I'm just sick of being surrounded by the adolescent fantasy world of someone who used to be very different. So I'm getting rid of it. But it's a task I severely underestimated. It's really quite amazing, how much stuff one person can accumulate that really has nothing to do with anything.

It stormed all afternoon. Which means I spent most of the day consoling my terrified dog, who paced around the basement all day shivering. Tracking white hair over every damn thing he got within 5 feet of.

Well, time to go pitch some more crap. Kind of a lame post, but that just seems to be par for the course lately. I need some sort of blogging inspiration.

Perfect

Jerry Seinfeld, eat your heart out. You and that smug American Express commercial.

The perfect pump is possible. Don't believe me? I have evidence. And just to stick it to you, I paid with my Discover card.





I put the pump in the gas tank, started it up, waited patiently. And with one final flourish of a dismount, almost poetic in its perfect combination of grace and dexterity, ended exactly at $30.00. If I died right now, my life would be nearly complete.

I wonder if people from inner ring suburbs, like Edina or Richfield, think people from Lakeville or Farmington are country hicks. I was thinking that as I drove back from Richfield tonight. I mean, it's a bit of a drive, at least 15 minutes. There's more unnecessary distances, more open space, yada, yada, yada. Maybe I'm like that person who comes from the north of Brazil to try and make my living in Rio. Except I'm just driving up Cedar Avenue. Whatever, just a thought.

The perfect pump. I am master of my domain.

Brasil

Oi! Tudo bem!

Well, I'm back from Brasil. For those of you confused by my spelling of "Brasil" with an "s" rather than a "z," it's because that's the way real Brasilians spell it. So, they probably know better than we would. I'll go with their judgment. Brasil, not Brazil.

The trip was one of those things which is real hard to explain, other than to say "it was really fun." So, it was really fun, which is the truth. I personally think the most amazing part was the incredible reaction we got from the crowds, which just sort of blew me away. I mean, a 25% full CFL sure is fabulous, but it can't really compare to a sold out auditorium of rabid Brasilian jazz fans screaming for more. Yes, we were rock stars. Accordingly, I threw a TV 12 stories out of our hotel window while the rest of the band engaged in a wild, caipirinha soaked, Dionysian frenzy. Pretty frekking sweet.

I definitely preferred Rio to Sao Paulo. For one thing, we were near the Copacabana beach. There was a defined end to the city, not an endless sea of concrete. An ocean somewhat prevents that. That just gave it the air of having more nature, even though in reality, it equaled or surpassed Sao Paulo in terms of social grievances and inequality. As well as further urban sprawl. But it's easier to forget about that when you're sipping a caipirinha on the Copacabana, listening to a bossa nova trio. Maybe that's somewhat the point.

Of course, there was the requisite college tension. All those hormones, all those conflicting personalities, all those people who have traveled vs. those who haven't. And of course, all of our collective patience locked in the eternal struggle against Tony's conception of Latin time. Latin time apparently means being 20 minutes late to everything and taking 5 hours to decide whether or not you should wear a black or brown belt. But overall though, no one was killed, no one flipped shit to an extravagant degree, and we all made it back to our respective destinations in somewhat chipper spirits.

Anyway, Rio is stunningly beautiful, especially when you see it from above. We took the tram up Corcovado (where the giant statue of Christ Redeemer is). And I must say, I was quite impressed. It's rather stunning. I'll try to upload some photos here soon, I really think they are the best explanation of our trip. I'm also going to include a few choice youtube videos. The first, a Disney short of Donald Duck visiting Brasil, which for some reason I find pretty damn hilarious. The rest, a selection of audience taken clips of Brasilian performances by your Luther College Jazz Orchestra. For more, just search "Luther College Jazz Orchestra" on youtube.

I'll make a note to everyone once some photos are up, but it may be a few days.

Enjoy!