A Musical Confession to Be Given to My Father Upon My Possible Untimely Death

I've always claimed my mother's taste in music, which, in a pinch, I would describe to someone as "she don't like no pussy music." She likes the Stones and Zeppelin, Hendrix and Dylan (don't for one second think you can claim Dylan is pussy music even if it's more poetic and thoughtful). She's pounded these things into my skull and I'll always be thankful for it.

My father, on the other hand, likes the lighter fare. He listens to some country, which I abhor. He's been known to like the smooth jazz, which I can't get behind. He even likes some Beyonce, which I won't even comment on.

My dad's musical taste has always been a not-so-inside joke between my mom and I, which I know eats at my dad.

But here it is. My confession that he may or may not ever get to see.

I listen to Bonnie Raitt because of my father. I like Bonnie Raitt. A lot. I just remembered this. I remember this one day when he took me to work with him in his red Mitsubishi sports car in 1991 and played a Bonnie Raitt record the entire way to Las Colinas. I listened to "Not the Only One," originally written by an Irish dude, like 25 times. True facts, I just listened to it another 25 times much to the chagrin of Lauren.

This is, of course, a microcosm of my main point. I have my dad to thank for the other side of me that loves the lighter stuff. The guy who loves Azure Ray, Tracy Chapman, and Billy Joel has Bill Warren genetics to thank. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Word life.

So, remember this, Dad, the next time I bust your chops for blasting Shawn Colvin in your car, remember that deep down, I'm closing my eyes and singing "Sunny Came Home" as loud as I possibly can.

But I'll probably call you a pussy.




"Not the Only One"
Bonnie Raitt

Those Days Have Long Since Passed

All of a sudden, I totally miss my Dreamcast.

Maybe Pablo will sell mine back to me. I bet he doesn't even have it anymore. I think I can still get one on eBay for less than $50, though. I'll have to look into it if Pablo got rid of it.

Work has been weird. Yesterday they were convinced that they would have to take a bunch of people (including your favoritest person in the whole wide universe) down to part-time work. That was before we realized there was a glitch preventing customers from emailing us, so at about 3pm yesterday we got an instant 50 cases as opposed to the one-per-hour rate we were at for about a week. Not sure where everything stands now. I wish they were a bit more communicative. I would've liked it the email had gone, "Yeah you're definitely going on part time start on X date" instead of "So things have been busy busy busy and we might have to start scheduling people for part time work but who knows when that'll be YARGH."

Just tell me and expect me to comply.

Sometimes I long for corporate management, which makes my six-year-old self want to ram all of his Matchbox cars up his ass.

I've been reading a lot, a lot, a lot of Pictures for Sad Children, which is adding to the overall feeling of hopelessness in the work-related arena. There are days, like today, that I just tell myself over and over that no matter how graduate school goes my wildest dreams will always be about as unrealistic as hoping for the ability to eat and eat and never get fat. It did occur to me, however, that my wildest dream growing up is actually kind of an odd reality. Working for a gaming company I really respect and love was always something I kind of scoffed at in my head, but now I'm close, both geographically and in terms of work in the arena, to fulfilling that dream. It's neat, for sure, but I'll believe it when I see it.

And, let's be honest, when I see it, I still won't believe it.




"Bang! Bang!"
The Knux

Misery Inspires

According to our big wig muckity mucks, last week was the slowest week in our company's history in terms of shipping orders. Not a great sign in any economy, but I suppose it's a bit more par for the course in the current economy.

That said, fuck being at work with nothing to do. Friday was worse, but Monday was pretty bad, too. I guess I should try to get some writing done if this persists. I just hate being at work and feeling like I can't do any other work -- probably because it would be kind of unprofessional to do other work at work.

Whatever.

I did get to listen to "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups like 38 times, though. God that band is like heroin to me. And they are like the Pumpkins. So what? It's like the Pumpkins became totally irrelevant a few years ago and these guys picked up the torch. That's totally fine by me. Let Corgan write Green Day songs and film music videos in front of upside down American flags and these guys can play frantic bleak rock. Their new album, Swoon, kind of says "fuck off" to the slower stuff from Carnavas and Pikil and decides to just get right into the high energy songs about revolutions and mental breakdowns. It's thoroughly trodden ground, to be sure, but it totally works for me. "Panic Switch," the first single from the album, has a totally irresistible chorus. It's "The Royal We," though, that so firmly tugs on my senses like Lovedrug's "Blackout" five years ago. It builds into such a fantastic climax that it was a total joy just having it on repeat all day like some lunatic reading Catcher in the Rye for the 263rd time. Love it. I wrote "Silversun Pickups Rool" in my own shit on my computer screen before I left.

What?

I have a long story about seeing Vidhisha for the first time in half a decade, but I'd rather go to bed. Besides, I know at least two of you know the story already. Later, perhaps. Maybe if work doesn't go so well for the third day in a row.

Which is likely. Goodnight, my chickens.




"The Royal We"
Silversun Pickups

Pirates v. United States Navy

I have to say, I would have been fucking stoked if, instead of hanging out in the Persian Gulf for the past week or so, my Naval officers had asked me, "Hey can you, uh, come chill off the coast of Africa for a few days and BLOW THE HEADS OFF OF SOME SOMALI PIRATES FOR US?"

I would be kind of jazzed about that.



"Life in a Northern Town"
The Dream Academy