Hola,
What a lazy bastard I've been in terms of writing. I mean, what is this, my second post in December? Pathetic. Anyway, all is well in life and I'll be back with more energy in 2008. Hope you all have a great end to the holiday season and I'll see you in the new year.
Cheers,
TWF
Monday, December 31, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The City Boy
I went to sleep early last night because I haven't been feeling tip top lately and I wanted some extra rest. At 11:15 PM I awoke to what sounded like wind blowing open our doggy-door downstairs. Groggy and not entirely convinced of what the sound was, I laid in bed for a few minutes trying to figure it out. It's not uncommon for the doggy-door to blow open and shut when the wind blows, creating a sound similar to a shovel or a dust pan grazing concrete, so I didn't think much of it. But as I started to fall back to sleep and still heard the noise, I realized that the weather had been perfect all day and was supposed to be for the next few days. Immediately my heart started racing as I realized the sound couldn't be coming from wind, although it was certainly the doggy-door.
At this point I knew there could be a problem brewing. I sat up in bed and determined that the noise was one of two things: 1. A burglar trying to get through the small door. 2. An animal trying to get in and having some trouble doing so. Truthfully, I was almost hoping for the former because I figured I could handle anyone dumb enough to try and enter our house through the doggy-door made for a small to medium size dog, and I knew that any animal trying to come in was likely going to be ugly and scared, thus making it surly and less than enjoyable to deal with. Plus, outside of dogs, cats and other domesticated creatures I'm not exactly Crocodile Dundee when it comes to handling animals. The uglier and less cuddly the animal, the more scared I am of it. So when one of the animals I first assumed may be lurking downstairs was a Possum, I nearly shat myself.
Standing on the top of our staircase, in my underwear and still half asleep, I mentally ran through possible scenarios that could be causing the stir. "There could be a massive possum, ugly as all hell with it's ribbed tail whipping back and forth, stuck in the doggy-door and staring me in the eye as I walked down the stairs." Or "Maybe it's a group of them entering the house, thus causing the sound to persist." That led to "Shit! What in the hell will I do if there are wild animals in my kitchen when I get downstairs??" A question that may have obvious answers for many of you, but for me, a guy who grew up on the beach with almost no wild animals, at least on land, within 10 miles of me, this is not something I can figure out on the fly, and in my underwear, in the middle of the night.
I was so troubled and unable to think that I briefly considered going back into the bedroom, locking the door, and hoping it (whatever "it" was) would be gone in the morning. Thankfully for my male pride, the drop or two of manhood that I still had at that point forced me into action....sort of.
I grabbed a flashlight and headed down the stairs, one inch at a time. I moved with such trepidation you would have thought I was approaching a lion's den.
We have a landing that separates our two flights of stairs, the bottom half of which looks directly at the doggy-door in question. When I reached the last stair before the landing, I knelt down to see if I could make out what was there. Still nothing in sight, but the sound continued.
At this point, I made a loud noise. Most likely the squeal of a little girl, but thankfully nobody will ever know. When the door kept brushing back and forth and I couldn't see anything I knew it must be an animal. A human surely would have been visible and/or scared off by my fearful cry. So I took a deep breath, and made the life risking (at least in my mind) final step onto the landing where I would surely be face-to-face with the viscous beast. I aimed my weapon, er, flashlight, onto the doggy-door and didn't see anything. What the hell? Then I pointed the light a few feet to the right, down the sliding glass door that connects the doggy-door to the wall. What I saw was two yellow eyes, a girthy body, grey fir and a tail with black stripes. A freakin' raccoon! Next to it, trying to push its way through the doggy door, was his equally wide companion. Thankfully, the varmint was too plump to force his way through, so the door just kept opening and shutting as he repeatedly tried to shimmy through the threshold.
After all that fear, all the "what ifs" that raced through my brain, my viscous intruder turned out to be a pair of raccoons looking for some grub. All I had to do was shake the flashlight a bit and they took off. But before they did, the one I initially locked eyes with stopped, sat down to itch his neck, much like a dog would, gave me a "I can't be bothered to deal with you" look, and casually walked away. I swear he was trying to show me up. Little bastard.
In hindsight, we practically set the table for those furry little creatures. Not only are our trash bins right outside that side door, but our dog's bowls, typically filled with food and water, sit right inside the doggy-door. The scent must have been too much to resist. I'm surprised I haven't heard/seen this happen before.
So there's that. I'm officially, and publicly, a candy-ass city boy. I haven't got the slightest clue how to deal with a wild animal, and I probably never will. In fact, I still don't know what I would have done had one of those critters gotten inside. I might re-consider the "go back in the bedroom and hope it isn't there in the morning" route, or maybe I'll "shoe 'em off with a broom" as Forrest Gump said his momma used to do. Either way, you can be certain that I will be scared stiff.
Cheers,
TWF
a.k.a The City Boy
At this point I knew there could be a problem brewing. I sat up in bed and determined that the noise was one of two things: 1. A burglar trying to get through the small door. 2. An animal trying to get in and having some trouble doing so. Truthfully, I was almost hoping for the former because I figured I could handle anyone dumb enough to try and enter our house through the doggy-door made for a small to medium size dog, and I knew that any animal trying to come in was likely going to be ugly and scared, thus making it surly and less than enjoyable to deal with. Plus, outside of dogs, cats and other domesticated creatures I'm not exactly Crocodile Dundee when it comes to handling animals. The uglier and less cuddly the animal, the more scared I am of it. So when one of the animals I first assumed may be lurking downstairs was a Possum, I nearly shat myself.
Standing on the top of our staircase, in my underwear and still half asleep, I mentally ran through possible scenarios that could be causing the stir. "There could be a massive possum, ugly as all hell with it's ribbed tail whipping back and forth, stuck in the doggy-door and staring me in the eye as I walked down the stairs." Or "Maybe it's a group of them entering the house, thus causing the sound to persist." That led to "Shit! What in the hell will I do if there are wild animals in my kitchen when I get downstairs??" A question that may have obvious answers for many of you, but for me, a guy who grew up on the beach with almost no wild animals, at least on land, within 10 miles of me, this is not something I can figure out on the fly, and in my underwear, in the middle of the night.
I was so troubled and unable to think that I briefly considered going back into the bedroom, locking the door, and hoping it (whatever "it" was) would be gone in the morning. Thankfully for my male pride, the drop or two of manhood that I still had at that point forced me into action....sort of.
I grabbed a flashlight and headed down the stairs, one inch at a time. I moved with such trepidation you would have thought I was approaching a lion's den.
We have a landing that separates our two flights of stairs, the bottom half of which looks directly at the doggy-door in question. When I reached the last stair before the landing, I knelt down to see if I could make out what was there. Still nothing in sight, but the sound continued.
At this point, I made a loud noise. Most likely the squeal of a little girl, but thankfully nobody will ever know. When the door kept brushing back and forth and I couldn't see anything I knew it must be an animal. A human surely would have been visible and/or scared off by my fearful cry. So I took a deep breath, and made the life risking (at least in my mind) final step onto the landing where I would surely be face-to-face with the viscous beast. I aimed my weapon, er, flashlight, onto the doggy-door and didn't see anything. What the hell? Then I pointed the light a few feet to the right, down the sliding glass door that connects the doggy-door to the wall. What I saw was two yellow eyes, a girthy body, grey fir and a tail with black stripes. A freakin' raccoon! Next to it, trying to push its way through the doggy door, was his equally wide companion. Thankfully, the varmint was too plump to force his way through, so the door just kept opening and shutting as he repeatedly tried to shimmy through the threshold.
After all that fear, all the "what ifs" that raced through my brain, my viscous intruder turned out to be a pair of raccoons looking for some grub. All I had to do was shake the flashlight a bit and they took off. But before they did, the one I initially locked eyes with stopped, sat down to itch his neck, much like a dog would, gave me a "I can't be bothered to deal with you" look, and casually walked away. I swear he was trying to show me up. Little bastard.
In hindsight, we practically set the table for those furry little creatures. Not only are our trash bins right outside that side door, but our dog's bowls, typically filled with food and water, sit right inside the doggy-door. The scent must have been too much to resist. I'm surprised I haven't heard/seen this happen before.
So there's that. I'm officially, and publicly, a candy-ass city boy. I haven't got the slightest clue how to deal with a wild animal, and I probably never will. In fact, I still don't know what I would have done had one of those critters gotten inside. I might re-consider the "go back in the bedroom and hope it isn't there in the morning" route, or maybe I'll "shoe 'em off with a broom" as Forrest Gump said his momma used to do. Either way, you can be certain that I will be scared stiff.
Cheers,
TWF
a.k.a The City Boy
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Keep on Keepin' on
Hola folks. Como estan? It's absolutely gorgeous here in Southern California today. Not a cloud in the sky, the weather is warm, but still has a briskness to it, and the ocean is reflecting the sun as though it's covered in diamonds. Yep, this is why I live in Southern California.
It's days like today when it becomes crystal clear why I don't enjoy working in an office 5 days a week. Toss out all the politics and management issues and I'm still left with the reality that I'm living in a paradise that I'm mostly limited to seeing through an office window. Even worse, due to the energy that I expend while in the office, I'm not exactly feeling like going out and enjoying the landscape when I get off work. Quite the opposite actually. Not for long, though. My focus is entirely on what's next; where my path will lead me. Until then I'll just have to make due with the periodic breaks in my schedule that I get. It could be worse. Indeed, it could be much, much worse.
Here's a poem I found. Not sure who the author is, but it works for me right now.
The Search
The search for perfection
A roller coaster of life
More than a mere collection
Of happiness and strife
Memories fade, dreams shine bright
Things fall into place
When one learns not to fight
The path to the dream space
It's days like today when it becomes crystal clear why I don't enjoy working in an office 5 days a week. Toss out all the politics and management issues and I'm still left with the reality that I'm living in a paradise that I'm mostly limited to seeing through an office window. Even worse, due to the energy that I expend while in the office, I'm not exactly feeling like going out and enjoying the landscape when I get off work. Quite the opposite actually. Not for long, though. My focus is entirely on what's next; where my path will lead me. Until then I'll just have to make due with the periodic breaks in my schedule that I get. It could be worse. Indeed, it could be much, much worse.
Here's a poem I found. Not sure who the author is, but it works for me right now.
The Search
The search for perfection
A roller coaster of life
More than a mere collection
Of happiness and strife
Memories fade, dreams shine bright
Things fall into place
When one learns not to fight
The path to the dream space
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Where is My Mind?
There's no getting around it: I'm in a bit of a slump right now. I haven't quite hit my stride in my new position, my body is far from the form I'd like it to be in, and I've been feeling a little under the weather in the past few days to top it off. Seems like light years ago that I was feeling like the hand of God itself was guiding me through each day. Luckily, I've got enough faith to know that I have no less contact with Spirit right now than I do when I'm feeling on top of the world. Still, though, I have to get back to basics, and sharpish. It's no coincidence that when things don't feel right I'm not doing enough of what I enjoy. A number of posts back I wrote about how just spending a few minutes of quiet time each day can make a huge difference in how I feel. One would think that post meant that I was finally getting the point and wouldn't do myself the injustice of getting too caught up in the physical world, but no sir, I still go days without taking the proper time to center myself and focus on aligning my energy with the life I want to manifest. Frustrating as all hell that type of idiocy is, but my physical body has one hell of a gravitational pull towards all things not Spirit.
I have a tattoo of an Aztec Ourobourous, which in really simple terms is a symbol of the duality of nature (i.e., all things can be good and bad). It's not unlike the Yin and the Yang. This tattoo is very significant for me because no matter how close to Spirit I get, I'm never more than a few steps away from completely losing myself in the physical world and having to start over again spiritually. Suffice to say I'm painfully aware that if I don't stay centered, there will be enough ups and downs in my life to provide a course for the mother of all roller coasters.
So anyway, I'm far from being beset with negative energy, but I'm also very conscious that it's time to get back to the basics or I could end up running on empty. Reading, writing, playing guitar, focusing on health. All these things needs to become priorities again. Once they do, I'll be back to my old self and on track to manifest my dreams.
Cheers,
TWF
I have a tattoo of an Aztec Ourobourous, which in really simple terms is a symbol of the duality of nature (i.e., all things can be good and bad). It's not unlike the Yin and the Yang. This tattoo is very significant for me because no matter how close to Spirit I get, I'm never more than a few steps away from completely losing myself in the physical world and having to start over again spiritually. Suffice to say I'm painfully aware that if I don't stay centered, there will be enough ups and downs in my life to provide a course for the mother of all roller coasters.
So anyway, I'm far from being beset with negative energy, but I'm also very conscious that it's time to get back to the basics or I could end up running on empty. Reading, writing, playing guitar, focusing on health. All these things needs to become priorities again. Once they do, I'll be back to my old self and on track to manifest my dreams.
Cheers,
TWF
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Against Me! Music Review
Been listening to the new Against Me! album, New Wave, recently. Well, I shouldn't make it sound like I've been listening to it everyday and giving it the attention necessary to write a proper review, but what the hell, this is my blog and I'll write half-educated music reviews if I damn well please. This is a freaking great album. The whole collection just has something different about its sound, and I haven't really been able to put a finger on what it is because it's more of a collection of uniqueness than one standout quality. Lead singer, Tom Gabel's voice has a bit of a scratchy, "I can only sing when I scream" quality to it, but I dig it and it seems to work for their music. Sort of makes you want to scream along with him, which makes for a great tension release and a few embarrassing moments when another driver laughs at your singing on the freeway. The drums are another strong point for these up and comers. Warren Oakes pounds his set like he has a score to settle, which makes for a very aggressive, yet catchy sound. Lead guitar, played by James Bowman, isn't exactly going to inspire memories of Kirk Hammett or Jimmy Page, but it's more than adequate and his ability to hit the high notes on back up vocals provides a nice contrast to Gabel's screeching rants.
As much as it pains me to say it, the jewel of the album is "Thrash Unreal." I say it that way because the song has been played to death on my local radio station (FM 94.9 for those interested in listening online....great alternative station), and that usually means a song is candy-ass enough to appeal to the masses. In this case, though, I think the radio has got it right. They chose the song that most appeals to the masses, but also happens to be the best song on the album. It starts with a simple riff that warns of much heaviness to come. Gabel's vocals and Oakes' drums quickly take over and it's a musical assault from there. One could easily mistakenly brand the song "mainstream" after hearing the group sing "ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-bada" during the chorus, but a quick listen to the lyrics of the song would expose that take as far from the truth. The song is in fact about a heroine-destroyed girl and overextended youthful partying.
Most of today's music is pretty run-of-the-mill crap, with super clean drums, way-too -predictable guitar and vocals that say "I need to feel important", but fall well short of their mark. New Wave presents something much more satisfying and original. Listening to it gives me the feeling that Against Me! really doesn't give a shit what I think about their music, but if after a listen or two I do like the album, then hey, they're happy that I do. I give this album solid 4 stars out of 5. So go an buy it, or download it if you're the digital type. Just make sure you write the band and tell them there's an obscure blogger out there who is promoting their music.
Cheers,
TWF
As much as it pains me to say it, the jewel of the album is "Thrash Unreal." I say it that way because the song has been played to death on my local radio station (FM 94.9 for those interested in listening online....great alternative station), and that usually means a song is candy-ass enough to appeal to the masses. In this case, though, I think the radio has got it right. They chose the song that most appeals to the masses, but also happens to be the best song on the album. It starts with a simple riff that warns of much heaviness to come. Gabel's vocals and Oakes' drums quickly take over and it's a musical assault from there. One could easily mistakenly brand the song "mainstream" after hearing the group sing "ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-bada" during the chorus, but a quick listen to the lyrics of the song would expose that take as far from the truth. The song is in fact about a heroine-destroyed girl and overextended youthful partying.
Most of today's music is pretty run-of-the-mill crap, with super clean drums, way-too -predictable guitar and vocals that say "I need to feel important", but fall well short of their mark. New Wave presents something much more satisfying and original. Listening to it gives me the feeling that Against Me! really doesn't give a shit what I think about their music, but if after a listen or two I do like the album, then hey, they're happy that I do. I give this album solid 4 stars out of 5. So go an buy it, or download it if you're the digital type. Just make sure you write the band and tell them there's an obscure blogger out there who is promoting their music.
Cheers,
TWF
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