random thoughts

A weekend blogger no more

| Chris

This isn’t a firm promise, let me tell you that right now. But I will try to repent of my weekend blogger attitude as much as I possibly can. For the past couple of years, I’ve only blogged, for the most part, during the weekends as it was the only quote convenient time unquote for me.

I realize that writing your thoughts down when you have them is not a matter of convenience. Just like any artistic statement, it’s all about inspiration. And as far as I know, inspiration doesn’t just show up on the weekends. Nonetheless, there’s always the legitimate excuse of not having the time or being busy with other things. True. But for someone who’s desperately wanting to learn to communicate better through written (typed?) words, I have to at least try to be consistent.

This past month has been very helpful. It’s helped me to focus better and to be able to articulate more on the things I’m inclined to talk about. And I have quite a few! It’s definitely comforting and at the same time, it gives me a sense of fulfillment. Like artwork always does for me.

Now, does this mean I will write everyday? I hope so. I’d like to if I can. But like I said, it’s all about inspiration for me and not being rigid for the sake of being rigid. After all, I’m an artist, not a journalist. So, it’s true that inspiration may not come just on the weekends, but it may also not come every single day. It may or may not. However, my aim is to seize the moment whenever possible. To not have to postpone the desire to write at a more convenient time.

I used to write songs everyday for years, until I ran out of juice. Then one day, I was just writing every once in a while. Hopefully, someday it’ll come back. I hope I can do the same with blogging. Because, as I’ve learned through the years, it’s also evolved into one of my accredited art forms. The art of expressing oneself in words and thoughts. It’s a beautiful thing indeed.

Bam! It’s over!

| Chris

I’ve been a little distressed these past couple of days. Ha! What else is new. No, seriously. This may seem meager to some, but I am a bit distraught  over the news of the show Emeril Live ceasing production for good. Yeah, yeah, yeah… so, I’m a fan. And a big one at that. What can I say? I love watching kitchen acrobatics. It seems like everybody’s adding it to their repertoire these days though. The entertainment factor of cooking, that is. But Emeril started it all. Okay, the original Japanese Iron Chef did, to be precise. But here in the U.S., he may very well have put the culinary arts in the spotlight and center stage almost overnight… to the benefit of the professsion itself.

I have to admit though, that if serious cooking education is what you’re after, flip the channel to PBS instead. I’m not saying you don’t learn from the Food Network shows. It’s just that in the past few years, it’s grown to be overwhelmingly sophisticated that, IMHO, it’s become the MTV of food and cooking. Nothing wrong with that. It’s called progress. Although, I find it a tiny bit distracting that cleavage has, all of a sudden, become quite a popular addition to the shows’ main ingredients… competing flavors with garlic! Oh my!

If there’s anybody I’d rather spend serious TV time on these days, it’s probably Alton and Mario. And Jamie Oliver! Whatever happened to that dude, anyway? Last time I checked, he got relegated to the 4am time slot. What a shame. Those guys are gurus and you’re more likely to drool in amazement over the sight of their sizzling grills than their teethy smiles.

But this post is about Emeril, isn’t it? That’s right. And so, I just wanted to express my gratitude real quick for the years of entertainment that his show has brought to my life. It’s been a great run. Even my ex-wife, I remember, always felt safe whenever I’m glued to the tube watching it. That way, I wasn’t anywhere doing God knows what. Like being in the basement on the computer, heaven forbid! And blogging?

Bam! You’re in the doghouse!

———————

Okay, just for the fun of it, I’m updating this post by adding a few Emerilisms that came to me just now. I found these lines amusing. But as corny as you might think they are as well, I’m afraid they’re forever embedded in my brain now. Scary, I find myself saying these while cooking. Thanks, Emeril!

  • Nice and slow… it’s a food of love thing
  • I’m not making this up
  • Hey, I didn’t make the rules
  • Pork fat rules
  • Big budget show here
  • Don’t know where you get your flour from; where I get mine, it don’t come seasoned
  • I’m not gonna go there
  • Yeah, yeah, yeah, Rhoda… I’m trying to cook here
  • Here, go make some friends
  • Give the kid his Oreos already
  • We’re not flopping turkeys here
  • Go buy yourself a couple hundred copies, will ya?
  • Put it in the icebox
  • Don’t even think about touching that dial
  • Oh yeah, babe!
  • Big fancy cooking word
  • Hi, Jay!
  • Sometimes, I amaze myself
  • Snack on this in the subway and no one will bother you
  • They’re nice and happy now
  • Season and then, re-season
  • Do it nice and gingerly. What did it do to you?
  • The chicken police is watching
  • Call your cable company and complain you don’t have smell-a-vision
  • We’re really cooking here
  • Please… keep it G
  • Can you imagine me doing this on Iron Chef?
  • Rub this on the bumper of your truck and it’ll taste good
  • I’m under a lot of pressure here, doc
  • Rough crowd tonight, doc
  • More gahhlic, it’s a beatiful thing
  • I can do this, you know why? Cause it’s my show.
  • Get your own show, will ya?
  • Give it up for Doc Gibbs & the Emeril Live Band
  • When we come back… another notch!
  • Kick it up a notch
  • Bam!!!!!!

Did I miss anything? Let me know!

Last update on the list: 12/22/07

Jagged little guilt pill

| Chris

There was this database file that I trashed months ago. It contained blog entries that go all the way back to oh, let’s see… ’02, ’03 maybe. That’s when I was still hosting the blog myself (uh, I’m glad those days are over). I believe it had some rantings on a topic about a song I was writing at that time. I was really emotional about it from what I can remember. I wish I could’ve preserved them. Well, shame on me, Mr. delete happy!!!

Regarding the song, I didn’t finish it until sometime last year. It’s now on the compilation A Dark in the Light (geez, this thing is really getting quite a bit of attention lately, haven’t you noticed?). So, what’s the song called? Why, you guessed it… Shame on Me. I haven’t heard it in a while but I listened to it today, just because I like the song. And unexpectedly, it brought tears to my eyes. It brought me back in time.

Talk about sheer vulnerability. I really exposed my heart and soul on this one. Didn’t mince a word at all. And it’s the only song that took me almost four years to write. Yep. A jagged little guilt pill that took time for me to swallow. But I had to move on so, guess what? Gulp!

And still gulping today, to be honest.

The story of the song deals with my Christianity. And how I somehow misused and abused it. In the name of God even. Ha! I can somehow laugh at my foolishness now but it was something that almost killed me spiritually during those days when my eyes were first opened. In this song, I speak to six people. At least. None of them knew each other, I don’t think. We were friends. Buddies. Supposedly. At different times and places. But I guess I was an expert more on the rules and regulations back then than the simpler things in life like compassion, understanding and tolerance.

I really wish I could see them again and ask for forgiveness. I have no idea where they are now. All I know is that, at least, three of them walked away and disappeared for good. And one of them has died in an accident. That was when I knew I had to finish this song or I would lose my mind.

In a nutshell, this song is a plea for forgiveness.

But if I have to tell the whole story, I’d be sitting here for days. So, I’ll let you listen to the song instead.

Don’t just hear, though… listen.

Shame on Me

Shame on me
For trying to build a fence around eternity
Shame on me
For suffocating and stifling your ability
And all the pride I’ve shown
The stories overblown infuse the pain

Shame on me
For plundering your only source of sanity
Shame on me
For walking down the road that only leads to me
And everyone I left behind
The trail of shadows’ all you find, it stabs my soul
And every time I see your eyes
They penetrate into my guise

I’m losing all the love I had to give
I’m leaving all the life I hoped to live
I’m seeing another side of me
In the mirror, it’s getting clearer
Shame on me

The blame’s on me
For being the judge instead of your defender
Yeah, blame it on me
For counting all the days till you surrender
And every time you earn a prize
It never seizes to surprise

I’m losing all the love I had to give
I’m leaving all the life I hoped to live
I’m seeing another side of me
In the mirror, it’s getting clearer
Blame it on me

I need your water
I stole your life, it’s unfair
I need your water
You can take my blood, if you care
But I need your water
To quench the thirst of despair

Shame on me
For when I took away your independence
Shame, shame on me
For all the times I doubted your repentance
And every time you’re left alone
My conscience turned to stone, so

I’m losing all the love I had to give
I’m leaving all the life I hoped to live
I’m seeing another side of me
In the mirror, it’s getting clearer
It’s clear now that

I’m losing the wealth I’ll never find again
I’m leaving the only place I wish I’ve been
I’m seeing a different kind of me
In the mirror, it’s getting clearer
Shame on me

—————
To Ricky, Nick, Myles, Will, Dustin (RIP) and JC.

Leaving Los Angeles, Part 1

| Chris

The death of Kevin DuBrow yesterday had suddenly awakened my memories of Cali. I have been away from what I call my true home for about seven years now. And as much as I hate to admit it, I really miss the time I was there. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of In-N-Out Burgers, bohemian coffee houses, Venice beach bonfires, pink-haired neighbors, playing music and good friends. Those were fun times. Oh yeah, and the 24-hour taco stands. They’re the best!

Not that I don’t like where I am now. I love the peace and quiet that this town offers. It’s just different. I guess it was just time for a change.

But today, I miss L.A. I was reminiscing about the fun things I used to do there. Like performing at open mic nights in Santa Monica. Twice a week. For years! And playing countless gigs with several bands. Rock bands. Reggae bands. Jazz bands. Funk bands. You name it. It was a lifestyle and I’m lucky to have lived that part of my dream.

On the radio this morning, I heard an old Eagles song. I immediately thought of the acoustic group I used to be a part of in the mid 90’s. I can still hear us playing Love Will Keep Us Alive. The beautiful vocal blends on the chorus and the fantastic arpeggios on the guitars. The name of our band, though, was such a schlok. I mean… Acoustic Harmony? Come on! Just because we were playing acoustic guitars and singing harmony vocals doesn’t mean we should call ourselves just that!

Acoustic HarmonyAnyhow, here’s a little picture of us playing at a club in Hollywood. Can you tell which one is me? Clue… I play the 12-string Yamaha. It’s been at least ten years and my hair has long been cut short.

Speaking of being cut short, there were two other activities in particular that I was involved in back then. Very special activities. These, I wish could have lasted a bit longer than they actually did. Thoughts of the events have stayed with me all these years. It’s all flooding back to me just now. It’s overwhelming. They’re real heartbreakers and I think I would need to take a little breather before I’m able to start expounding on them.

You can wait, can’t you?

Cum on feel the noize, cuz life is short

| Chris

The house is so cold! I’m trying to conserve energy (no, money) by turning down the heater in the morning before leaving for work. I just stepped in a minute ago and it’s like the arctic in here. Maybe I should start skimping less before someone finds me frozen on my couch one of these days.

Oh well… not intending to dwell on morbid thoughts, I couldn’t help but think of what I just read in the news today. This may sound insignificant, or even pathetic to some, but I was stunned by the news of Kevin DuBrow’s death.

Kevin who?

For those of you who were not lucky enough (or very lucky, in fact; depends on how you see it) to have been part of the mid ’80s Sunset Strip scene in Los Angeles, Kevin was the lead singer of the heavy metal band Quiet Riot. Ahhh… suddenly, memories of seeing the band on stage flood my thoughts. The atrocious scent of hairspray from the hair-extention of the guy in front of me while standing in line at The Whisky lingers in the air. And my ears could very well be ringing in the next few days once again.

Kevin and his band weren’t really my cup of tea, although I did enjoy their shows. But being a part of that whole scene for years, you can’t help but feel something. I mean, regardless of who it was who died, it is tragic. And the news of Kevin’s death is definitely heartbreaking.

But I can already hear the speculations, the negative things being buzzed around. Sardonic remarks such as… his metal health ran out (okay, sorry, I made that one up). We can all be judgmental one way or another. It’s easy to do. But one day we too shall pass. And be judged. That’s what’s even more scary to me.

This is making me think how short life really is. And how precious. I mean, I can remember some twenty years ago like it was just this morning. You know, everybody’s young and vibrant. And cocky. And then, all of a sudden, it seems like half of them are dead now; or dying. Even I feel my age so much more now than I ever have before. It’s like, it’s just a matter of time, you know.

I’m not trying to sound spooky here but as much as you want to focus on life itself, the reality of life is that it stops at some point. Sometimes, sooner than later, as in the case of Kevin’s. And however you choose to believe what happens afterwards doesn’t take away the significance of how you choose to view and treat your present life right here, right now. At least for me, I try to treat it like a savings account. Like an investment of sorts. I may not have a lot but as far as I’m persistent and continue to save a little at a time, it will eventually grow enough to support me in the end.

But that’s just me.

For now, Kevin deserves a moment of silence. A respectful silence. Whoever he was before doesn’t matter now. It’s none of our business. But as someone who’s had some sort of connection to him, if only because we stood at the same place at one point in time to enjoy the music, the fun and the beer (that was the extent of it for me, I promise!), it’s only right to allow him to rest in peace through faith that he’s in a better place now. I’d even like to think that he’s back jamming with his even more legendary buddy, Randy Rhoads. I guarantee you, I’m not the only one thinking of this proposition.

So here’s to Kevin DuBrow… rock and roll thunderbird. Peace, brother. May God have mercy on your soul. \m/

Midnight conversations

| Chris

Late last night I was awakened by a loud, tacky ring tone from my cell (which reminds me, I need to change that to something a little less disturbing asap). But I didn’t catch it soon enough as I was way out in dreamville at that point. Although, I heard the tail end of the ring just enough to realize I was getting a call.

So, I rolled around my bed and tried to reach for the phone. As I stretched my arm to grab it, I got a little agitated thinking, who in the world could this be. I thought, this better be good. And then I immediately thought of Deb, my ex. I know that she likes to talk to me but doesn’t have the time to do it except in the dead of night. Oh, great! However, she knows better not to call me at that particular time during weekdays.

Anyhow, sure enough, it was her. So, I called her back and we chatted for what seemed to be a couple of hours at least. I must be getting old as I could hardly hang in there that late. Everytime, I had to ask her a second time what she just said.

It was good though. I’m just glad to know she’s okay. She did sound good. She told me she started going back to church and that she’s been going after new friendships. She even had a good Thanksgiving with her dad. But she took him to Cracker Barrel? On Thanksgiving? Aren’t you suppose to roast your own turkey instead?

Oh well, I just thought that maybe she’s actually doing better than I though she was. In fact, even better than I am… as I have not been able to do those same things myself yet. I don’t know. Sometimes, I just don’t know where I’m at, even though I want to insist that I do. Trying to forget everything and starting anew is easier said than done. Especially, when there really wasn’t a reason to forget anything in the first place.

I miss her. She misses me. This is so tragic.

These midnight conversations that we have every now and then could both be a blessing and a curse. It keeps our memories of each other from getting sour and preserves our ability to remain friends. But at the same time, it doesn’t allow us to move on and look to see what lies ahead of us. I can’t maker her stop calling me. I’m afraid I don’t want to.

Really makes me think of that U2 song… I can’t live with or without you.

Okay, I’m getting sappy now.

How ’bout some are ree yes pee eeh see tee?

| Chris

When you speak, be sure your words are tasty and sweet, not bitter; lest you have to eat them someday.

I’m not sure if someone’s already quoted this line before. It sounds pretty much common sense to me. But I’m assuming so anyway by not taking credit; just to be safe.

Anyhow, lately, I’ve been feeling the impact of this simple but profound admonition. I’m not going to list the details now. I just want to express myself at this moment by saying… I can’t tell you how many times I’ve uttered things out of haste and frustration just to look back disgraced over what I’ve said. Nope, no one’s judging me, I don’t think.

No one but myself anyway.

Oh, don’t you just love it when you realize your behavior is suddenly the exact same way you hate it in others? It’s terrible. It’s like a trap. Like you’ve set out to win no matter what, and then all of a sudden, you lose. Miserably. Like shooting yourself in the foot, I guess. It happens, and there’s no easy way out.

This year I’ve been a bit more conscious of the way I talk to people. The way I establish contact… with my family, my friends, the grocery cashier, anyone. Even at work, in fact. When I communicate with co-workers, when speaking at a conference meeting or on the phone with whomever. When simply making eye contact, or composing emails, letters and… ahem, posting a blog! It’s not that I’ve lost it or anything. I’m just trying to re-assess my people skills. It’s more than just a professional gesture, I think, Sure, there are things I dislike about some folks, and it mostly pertains to their demeanor, the tone of their voice and their choice of words when they speak. I’m not saying I possess the scroll that reveals the proper way to act respectably. This only applies to me. Maybe because I’m a little tender in some ways? And need a little tlc, perhaps? Ha! But I sometimes find myself unconsciously expecting more of others than I do myself. And that… that bugs the daylights out of me. After the fog clears up, that is.

I think it’s important to always be aware of your aura around human beings. As tough as it is to do so consistently. Whether they’re the closest person in your life or a complete stranger, there needs to be an uninterrupted flow of respect at all times. It’s a science and an art that I’ve been trying to master for as long as I can remember. But no matter how long it’s been, I always discover there’s so much more to learn. Or re-learn, for that matter.

I have heard over and over that respect is suppose to be earned. To a degree, I believe it. But then I thought, we’re human beings. Prone to greed and naturally hungry for control or power in one way or another. Morally speaking, if something has to be earned, it becomes a thing of value. For purposes of trade or exchange, that is. Like money and stuff. Y’know, like working to earn a living? You know what I mean. Anyhow… and so, we all say, I want some. And then, I want more. Sooner or later, I want it all. Now! Suddenly, it becomes an object of individual desire. Everybody works hard for it. Terribly hard! And that’s when the idea of respect gets caught in the crossfire of good and bad intentions. Respect now becomes a job. A chore. Think about this for a moment…

Respect is earned, but…

Redemption is… currently on sale! Cheap! Limited time only! Hurry!

Get it?

I hate being sarcastic.

And going off on a tangent.

Now, where was I?

It’s difficult for me to bring it up again but I have to constantly face the truth; that the failure of my marriage is partly due to my inability to maintain respect when it’s most needed. When your emotions get the best of you, for whatever reason, it matters not what you instinctively know to be right or wrong, all you see is either the person you have locked up and has somehow managed to escape or the one you never even knew ever existed. In my case, it was the latter. Because I am not one to display physical manifestations (oh please, not the door slamming again), I tend to be swayed by having to defend myself either through the blurting of foolish words I don’t really mean or, for the most part, with complete and deafening silence (Ooh, this one’s the rusty jagged-edged blade you don’t want to feel, trust me. I can be silent for months on end without breaking a sweat). I have learned since that neither of these demonstrate respect. Well, duh! But it’s almost impossible to see at the time.

I’ve experienced that, much like an elephant can be startled by the presence of a tiny mouse, there are times in life when your desire, faith and confidence can easily be disabled, disarmed, surrendered, and without notice, by a single person’s action or circumstance. It’s so easy to lose yourself. To forget who you are. To forget who people are. And more importantly, to forget what you believe in and stand for. Integrity disintegrated. All these things you’ve worked all your life to gain… gone in sixty seconds. Literally, sometimes.

Uhh, such a rude awakening!

Can’t always get what you want

| Chris

I woke up with a headache just a few minutes ago. Not a good way to start your Thanksgiving day, I’m afraid. So I step outside on the porch to ease it a bit by breathing some fresh air. Brrrr. The cold bites. And the snow from yesterday is still on the ground and atop the cars in the street. Checking the weather channel, local forecast says it’s 2 degrees right this moment. Awesome.

Coming back inside was nice and warm. But not as warm as Thanksgiving days usually are. You know, the kitchen normally starts to generate heat from all the preparation and cooking.  And the smell. Hmmm…

There won’t be any cooking in my kitchen this time, though. Except maybe to boil water for my morning joe. But I’m fixing to go to another house where a friend will do all the cooking. That would be nice. Just to hang out and not have to worry about all the fuss.

Don’t get me wrong. A house warmed by its kitchen on Thanksgiving day is a good thing. A very good thing indeed. I wish my house is one of them but hey… you can’t always get what you want. Right? Not all the time anyway.

This brings me to my thought for this morning. I’ve been doing a lot of wishful thinking lately. Lot of what if’s. I don’t know. But sometimes, not getting what you want is the best thing that could happen. And for that, I’m thankful. For if I did get everything I wanted all the time, I probably won’t as grateful as I am today. To say the least!

So this morning, I’m giving thanks. To God, mainly. For there’s a lot to be thankful for. Think about it. I will.

Happy Thanksgiving Day.

A good nightcap

| Chris

It’s about 10pm right now. Just finishing up on my email chores, taking a last sip of my hot chocolate and getting ready to hit the hay. I’ve been switching back and forth from reading random blogs to drafting email replies for a good couple of hours now when I just noticed the glow coming in through the window shade. It was oddly bright, like it’s almost daylight. So I opened the front door to check it out and wow… snow! Big snowfall going on right this moment. I’m now checking the forecast and it seems we’re getting around 4 inches within the next 24 hours. Not much but still a fairly good amount for my own liking.

Here, take a look. I stood outside the porch and took a quick snapshot of my neighborhood using a cell phone camera.

Snow in my neighborhood at around 10pm on 11/20/07

Isn’t it lovely? I thought so.

Hey, I love the snow. And I’m always thankful for this kind of nightcap. What a great way to sign off, I think. Now, I just hope I don’t have to shovel my way out of the garage in the morning to get to work. Sometimes the Genie gets stuck, y’know? Hate that!

But I better get some sleep already… just in case I’d have to burn calories at 6am.

I’m out, people.