Happy New Year

The Edge is the man going from piano to guitar to backing vocals. One of his better guitar solos too.

I drank myself a little silly tonight. Not as bad as seester in law... but she's okay. I write this post minutes after midnight. More fireworks and gulp, gun shots tonight than past memories. I have been around guns... I can tell the difference between a fire work and a bullet breaking the sound barrier. I was walking home right after the Dick Clark stroke of Midnight a fear came over me with bullets raining down on my neighborhood.

Does anything ever change on New Year's Day? A symbolic day we all celebrate (sort of) with drink, food and more drink. We say to ourselves "this year will be different". But do we really make this next year, each year different?

I think it is human nature to want to get better. To succeed is always something we want. Hopefully... That is... But, what is hope really? I think hope is an empty promise we make to ourselves. Hope is not something we actually strive for, it is just an empty mindset. Success though is something that not only do we admire individually but we admire in others. Success is hard work, stamina and perseverance. New Year's Day is a symbolic day to "hope" for something. Success though is a bigger period of time that doesn't occur on a day... it takes a lifetime.

December was an interesting month on this blog. As some of you have noticed I have written more than I have. Almost everyday actually. I also had the most hits this year at just over 2400 in a month, the most this year and more of those hits are staying longer and coming back, which means I am picking up more readers. I think there are 20-30 regulars now but only I care about that stuff, right... Actually... Selina told me through facebook that blogging is a thankless art. I agree. Anyone can do it but can they keep it going for a long time? Face it, this is the new diary format. But we let anyone read it. So many people got IKEA gift certificates for example because they are all stuck working on their new sinks this weekend. Others have cat's with hairballs. Some people are coming in because of some political comment I made on another blog. Who knows. I am not intentionally dragging people here but they keep coming and I will keep going at it.

Nothing changes on New Years Day. Well except maybe though I should. I think sometime around Thanksgiving I came to the realization that all this physical pain I suffer from day after day is due to some form of depression. (Quiet Teeny this is serious shit :) ) I am not the type that wants to go leap off a building or swallow 40 vikes. I do however after reading forever via wikipedia and other sites around the internet think I got something up. I can't always shake the pain. It comes and goes but it comes at the times I am most stressed, distraught or sickly, like with a cold. And when I am distraught over something I can't stop it. If I worry about other people too much it takes over. If I see Elijah upset I want to run and hide. It's weird and it's there and I can't hide from it. With all the doctors and psychologists I have seen, you'd think they'd have spotted it instead of saying, "Hey take this, we don't know what's up with you.". I remember questioning a doctor about bi polar disorder once and he laugh and said that while I had elevated moods I'd have to go on a crazy drug and prostitute binge spending all my money away at some casino and then come down to this sick sad person who wanted to leap off a bridge before I'd be declared bipolar. I sort of laugh at that a little now because I don't know if that is exactly true. I think one would have to experience elicit drugs and the rush that probably comes along with acting all crazy like that to revisit it time after time. I like to revisit happiness or successful achievements. So when I do a achieve... I get giddy. Maybe yoga is the answer to just fucking relax once in a while but I really should question my medical provider a bit further, eh? But if I call, are they going to haul my ass off to some looney bin? How do you do this and maintain sanity around the house and work? Too much shit to worry about really right.

With that all said, I think the answer lies in going back into doing what made me happy. I wrote a month or so back about being flying high at 18 years old, and stomping everyone and everything that was put before me (besides the advanced placement Calculus exam). But the energy to say, "Fuck it" and just beat things to a bloody pulp to get my way and what I wanted. All that energy sort of trickled down in college and sort of died in LA those six months trying to make it in the music business in 1996. Coming home late fall 1996 was a period when I hit rock bottom. I don't think I enjoyed Christmas too much that year. But yeah, I ended my brief entertainment career well I guess. I got a good job, a wife, a nice house... the luxury car... etc. But something died in me along the way and I often wonder now if it is this pain thing because internally I am mourning that loss of that energy I had in my younger days. Maybe it wasn't you know, physical energy but more of a spiritual energy if you would... I mean... Can part of us just die off with out us realizing it? Or am I realizing that part of me is on life support? There are things in our lives that cannot be taken away from us. Education... Life experience... love... our kids... (even if you get separated from your kids you still are apart of them right? In some sort of spiritual connectiveness type way?) But talent... No one can take talent away. And I think though it's talent part of me that's one that is screaming to get out. I mean... my senior year in high school I was first chair in the California State Honor Band with the instrument I played. Numero Uno? How the fuck did I get there? Then to the good school... to this? A guy with a great job, kid... wife... house... and if I stay the course, a lot of cool things will happen as I ride off into the sunset of life the next 50-60 years. Yet, I yearn for the mistakes I made in 1996. The corrections I could have made to stay on that path and realize a dream. Looking back over this last rambling paragraph you could easily say I am crazy. I am... I am nuts for thinking about those mistakes. Live and learn Steve... you are doing just fine. Scared as all hell but just dandy. Maybe... Of course...

So here I am 2008... An hour into the new year... correcting my spelling mistakes so Teeny doesn't call it on me in a comment or two. I have re-read this wondering what's next. I don't know... I should push my talents together... maybe. Perhaps it's a will to succeed in each and everything I do that is making me think a little differently about myself these days. I am trying to recognize the problem on my own... challenge it... overcome it like anything else I do. But I also think that pushing my talents together could help. I have this guitar collection and I have this writing skill that shines once every few posts on on this blog. I can play those guitars and come up with a melody, some chords and some progressions that can be built into songs. And then I have my own unique life experience. Is it my turn to create some songs? Ever tried? I have before and it always is difficult to me. But if I think of all the challenges I have had in life and challenges I overcome everyday at work I can get past these things... just like my failure in 1996 when my Dad and I loaded all my crap up in LA and high tailed it out of town. I wonder if the lack of creativity in my life is the root of my problems?

Who knows... Happy New Year

Disney Blitz in 3 Hours

The Statue of Walt standing proud like Lenin did in Red Square

Well... here's a little story, much like this guy's without the costumes, the puking and the hard foreign alcohol. Okay well, it involved hard foreign alcohol. (Amazing the similarities...though like metaphorical though)

As part of my last night of Disneyland and my vacation. Me and the two sister in laws went on run. A fast run... See, we were at the last restaurant of the mighty G-Family of Downtown Disney and the three of us were watching the clock. Elijah had it and DW was well off to bed. It was roughly 8:30PM. California Adventure closed at 9 and we wanted a run at the Tower of Terror. And then a run in the big park which did not close until 12:00 AM.

So the clock was ticking, I swigged the last of my margarita and we were off... To the hotel first to change some clothes and shoes...

Little Sis ran us fast through the park to the Tower which had a bit of a line. It only took 20 minutes though and we got the first spot as pictured below.:


Neat huh? We just had to show y'all. After Katie snapped the picture she was like, "This so has to go on your blog..."

At this point it is safe to say the margaritas kicked in because we were clamoring for a flask of something. And the contents of that flask could have been anything.

Here's us at the top of Tower of Terror (I am the drunk dude in green):





Pretty funny stuff...

Next we ran full speed out of the park and into Disneyland. At that time a parade was running so the lines were short (so we thought.) We found a group of girls maybe early 20's or late teens running for Thunder Mountain Railroad like we were. I don't know what happened or who started it (me) but it turned into a race to get there. And we're old except for Katie so we were like anchors beating these chicks out. Katie towed her sister and I through the park. It was funny because we were failing like pieces of paper and Katie had the direct path to the ride. We finally made it to the ride so we ran through the line. And right before the train... the line splits and we went left running all the way to the front... On the right were the chicks we were trying to beat out and I yell, "Well... look who's gonna ride first?" and Karen yells, "Denied!!!" Katie looked at us like we were imbeciles but it felt good. No freaking way with our bad backs could we ever beat those chicks with Katie. The photos would have been seen below had we taken them. Pitch black in the tunnels with the fireworks blasting as you came out. It felt spiritual. We went by the goat eating dynamite (which I have a picture of but the camera is in the car) and I got like three rows attention behind me and then I yelled it while pointing as we went by. The people behind us were like, "That dude's hammered..." But really I was coming off my buzz at that point...

Next was a side detour on the way to Splash Mountain. Keep in mind, we had less than 3 hours to hit these rides from the beginning. The park was dark with a bunch of shitty parades going on. It was wall to wall people and we had to zig zag around to get where we needed to go because they had all these feeble ropes with retired people waving flash lights on where to go.

But the side detour we took was directly to Pirates of the Caribbean. We got right on... There wasn't any excitement. Karen and I just got our breath. They yelled twice to keep your feet on the floor but it wasn't me.

Next was Splash Mountain. Ice cold water and chilly fall air. Nice to get soaked. I lingered towards the back of the log. We had a group that got the front of the log so we were cool. I almost slipped forward making a stupid pose for the camera. Karen flashed her gang signs. Katie wished for world peace. It was symbolic. If there were photos, they would be seen below. I yelled a lot as we went through the tunnel.

The final attempt we made was to hit the Matterhorn. Unfortunately my dream of riding this thing at night was still only a dream left for next year. They closed one side like idiots so the line was long. It was decision time... wait for the Matterhorn or checkout Space Mountain and ride it. We decided on Space Mountain. It was around 11 and the sign said 45 minutes for the ride. We waited for an eternity, people watching throughout the line. I hate couples who sit and make out while the line is moving. I hate really fat people who listen to their iPods by themselves wearing Star Wars trucker hats. I hate red necks. I hate parents who drag their 5 year olds into a long line and then yell at their kids because they hand on the chain dividers that make the lines.

Anyway, the ride was awesome for the 3rd time this week... Here's a picture of Elijah in an over-sized Charlie Brown shirt at Knott's Berry Farm:

A Lesson In Great Parenting...

After assisting Elijah maybe 20 times up this slide, he decides to do it himself. I think about it for a second and I wonder, is this one of those proud moments like..."Hey, my kid is the best!" Or... is it normal for kids to do this at 13 months?

He even went down headfirst by himself which he has never done with assistance!!

This was the best video I got before he tripped and fell and got a little bloody nose. Then he went to the swing and showed an 8 month old up.

Here he is swinging... still a little blood in his snot nose:

One Of Those Life Moments That Scares The Living Shit Out Of You

This evening my wife and I had run up to the in-laws (my in-laws her parents) to enjoy this three day weekend (and someone's birthday... I think one of the sister in laws...)

Anyway...

So were sitting there tonight. Grandma, Elijah, Uncle David, DW and myself. They were all enjoying Chinese food. I was enjoying a Manhattan and some burritos. I hate Chinese food. Can't digest the taste for some reason.

Then in one moment it all changed.

Elijah looked up at the ceiling fan and started shaking, like he was frightened of it. Shaking and shaking with Chow Mein all over his bib. At first we thought he was choking but there was no food in his mouth.

Shaking more... convulsions.

Time... moved in slow motion. DW pulled him out of his high chair. Elijah continued to shake. I ran around the table. Grandma was at Elijah's side. David bless his heart started clearing the dishes.

"Call 911" DW says.

I froze... My first thought was, hey maybe it isn't that bad. I just didn't react fast to run to the phone. Elijah was now blue...

I called 911. Keep in mind, Murphys is miles from a big city hospital. I mean, there are people here but hospitals are a good 20-30 miles away. Decent ones are further. But it's an area full of good people. I cry thinking about them... good people...

The dispatcher asked me his age, what was going on, where he was, where we were at. She dispatched the ambulance and paramedic team. I fumbled with the address, phone number, the cross streets, my name... It was tough. I was in a place I did not want to be but could not ever leave.

About 3 minutes into it, Elijah was still blue and stiff... like his arms and legs were out like Frankenstein. He was breathing the whole time. DW had stripped his clothes off and cuddled him on the floor. I am still on the phone... 911 didn't want me to leave.

Elijah was still blue on the floor but he was now screaming a little. Still convulsing... DW, being the good mother that she is, was calm and right by his side making sure he didn't hurt himself. The first fire truck arrived. These guys were like the first team before the ambulance.

About five of them came in the door. One guy went in to give Elijah some oxygen. One guy helped. The look on the other three, who could not be older than 25 was like, "Oh Fuck, man... It's a Baby." I just turned around into the dining room and cried. Why was this happening, was my first thought... I said a little prayer... cried a little more and turned the corner and walked back into the kitchen where my family was.

Then the ambulance came with two paramedics. They took over and they were ready to go. They assessed Elijah and got DW and him into the ambulance. I ran and got DW's bag. Our dog Trisha was barking in the closet. Grandma had shoved her in there during all the commotion.

The ambulance then left to Sonora Regional Hospital. I stood there in the driveway asking for directions. I opened the door to the Porsche. I then ran and got my computer bag in the house because it had all my shit. Like my financial stuff... my phone chargers and iPod in case I was in for the night. I envisioned my son hooked up to tubes and shit inside a clear plastic box. I had no idea...

My mother in law, bless her heart, calm as can be offered me a ride to the hospital. I declined because I'd feel better driving myself. At least behind the wheel of my Porsche I'd be in control.

I headed out with the rights and lefts from the instructions the paramedics gave me ingrained in my head. I believe the ambulance had maybe 5 minutes on me. Maybe 7. Who knows? I caught them 2/3's up the way up Parrot's Ferry Rd. The whole time, Free Bird was blaring on the stereo. No cellphone service to call my parents. I was in shit... until I caught up with the ambulance.

At first I was puzzled why the ambulance wasn't flying 80 miles an hour with the sirens blaring. I caught up to them quickly (but hey man, it's a Porsche... that's what they are for). We hit the town of Sonora. I looked into the back window of the ambulance and my wife was in there giving me thumbs up... Elijah must be okay...

He was checked into the hospital. He had what is called a febrile seizure. It's caused by a rapid rise in body temperature. After the fact, my mom and my mother in law both noticed he felt hot today. We noticed he was kind of lethargic in the back seat of the car when we were heading up the hill. But it was like 105 today with like 60% humidity. It was warm. He had played all day. He got his photos taken for Grandma and Grandpas anniversary gift. He ran around the mall. He looked fine.

His temperature was 103.5 at the hospital. He had all of his color back when I got into the emergency room. I had the "gate keeper" ask me about 500 questions before I got back. Elijah was crying when I got there. But he looked like Elijah again. Big blue eyes and radiant skin. I got him to smile so that cleared one amateur neurological test for me. Then I got him to laugh which was another. Then he signed for milk which summed it all up for me. I knew the dude was back. They gave him some Tylenol that brought his temp down to 100. He's got these mysterious rashes on him that appeared after the fever that the doctors are puzzle on so we got to bring him back if they are there in the morning. But they think they are unrelated. I'll update you folks then.

Nothing scares you more than watching your little son get into an ambulance. Nothing!

Thank God he is going to be fine...

I am changing my Windows colors on the tool bars because I do not want to see that shade of blue again.

Wow!

Dana Carvey SNL Gerald Ford Is Dead - Watch more free videos

I had the opportunity to witness one of Tom Brokaw's public speeches today in Denver. It was a bit interesting. One of the things I pulled out of it was how American's no longer communicate with each other. With this whole internet world that even I am totally hooked on, he pointed out how America is just polarizing itself with this whole liberal/conservative thing. How the elections is just bought by the politicians and the money they raise. And how we don't get anything done because we don't communicate in a common language. Baby Boomers and their parents don't talk to young people the same way they talk to each other. It's all text pages, Blackberry's, cellphones and blogs with the youngsters and no stories about how the generation did it after World War II. How we sit and fight over the war and never realize that the people fighting it volunteered to do it. How America only works if we accept that we are centrists and not these crazy ideologies.

He backed it up with his stories of sleeping in a cargo container in Pakistan to cover the big earthquake they had a couple of years back. Or how he walked on Normandy with the soldiers who fought there on the 40th anniversary. He made me wonder why I tuned my grandmother out when she babbled on with her stories about the 1930's and 1940's. Or how we are short of Vietnam with the current war situation because were not yet hating our troops for fighting over there.

He was so right with everything he said.

I just turned my back and said, "Damn." when he was done. I had the nerve to answer my cellphone a few minutes later.

Where are we going in this world?

Back When Reality Hit Me

On the right is Pico Blvd, on the left is Santa Monica Car Wash and right behind me was Gilbert's El Indio Restaurant... One of my favorite places on the planet.

I spent most of today in Santa Monica, CA (doing what I do for a living). And all I did that was remotely productive was rekindle relationships and tell stories. I ran into some guy I worked at a car wash with back during my "lost summer" of 1996. Amazing how different were back then and how we got to where we are now. I looked right at him as I walked down the lot, "Rudy?" I said. "Steve...que pasa?" Wow! He was just a line worker 11 years ago and now he was running the place.

In June of 1996, I packed up my little red Toyota truck with some of my belongings and about $400 cash and headed south to seek my fame and fortune and look for that pot of gold in the music business. Hell I had a degree in music so figured they'd all back the f--- up when I hit the scene. I cannot believe how stupid and unafraid I actually was. During the spring before graduation, I went down to have an interview with RCA Records for an internship. That was a cool experience... can't remember what I exactly did but after that interview I headed to a car wash I knew and applied for a job at a car wash. I needed to support myself while I worked for free at the record company after graduation. I mean, washing cars is what I did in college and high school. I was quite good at selling detail services and hand waxes at the washes I worked at so, I had no problem making a little cash fast on the weekends while I busted my ass during the week.

That is until I altered my plans midway...

See... I cruised through the summer, working at the car wash (ooh ya...:) ) and filing paper at RCA. I grew quite bored. I wanted that job right away. The one that paid you know, $20K annually and gave me fun shit to do on the weekends. And I grew bored with the car washing stuff because that wasn't going to get me anywhere in life. Anywhere... Car Washing was an absolute dead end with no future whatsoever. Seriously. I wanted it now. $10 bucks an hour in the Mail Room... Done!!! So when I prematurely vacated my much sought after internship they didn't have a job for me. So here I was a full time car washer. I joined a temp agency and discovered I could type 40 words a minute. Never tested before. But this was the agency of the stars, man. First job, filing papers at MCA Records. Second job, filing papers at Hanna Barbara. Third job, back at HB. Fourth job, and I seriously could make this a post in and of itself, installing electronic components into some studio across the street from NBC in Burbank. Then I got a long term assignment, Universal Studios (filing papers). I got too comfortable and started living large on the weekends, then poof! The job ended. Two weeks later, I had to decide between paying some credit card bills and eating while I waited to get hired on as holiday help at Macy's for 6 bucks an hour.

I took my last $20 out of the bank that day and went up to Gilbert's El Indio. Had two margaritas and two enchiladas. I had to move back home to Mom and Dad the next week. But Gilbert's was the best place to spend that last little bit that day. Best Cheap Mexican Food on the planet. It was really surreal standing there looking at this sign and I quickly grabbed my camera. I snapped this picture and then stared at the sign for like five minutes. I had parked in the same spot with red Toyota about 11 years ago having my last meal in LA.

Reality was a bitch back then... But I eventually grew to love her.

Elijah, Part III

Elijah and me

Elijah is like 4 months here. He and I were laying down and he was flapping around having a good ole time with his mobile. He just started smiling here. We were having fun. Really liked the camera so we were snapping all kinds of pictures. I think this was Thanksgiving weekend. The "eccentric" "less conventional" sister in law snapped this picture.

Elijah, Part I

Elijah after a day of boating, sunshine and lots of love.

All my posts this week will be dedicated to the fine son, who turns 1 on Friday. The "more refined" sister in law took this picture up in Tahoe last month. Elijah really brightened everyone's day on that trip.

Having a child is still the scariest of things I have ever encountered in my life. Forget those tough tests in school or selling that big client who can shape my entire economic existence. I've actually never been afraid of people my whole life. But I was afraid a year ago when Elijah came to us. I was very afraid. I am still very afraid. It's really hard to explain. I fear him in some ways you'd think were quite odd. I fear him having pain. I fear him being uncomfortable. I fear his cries. His cries when he won't stop crying. You may not know it, but my whole life I have been a selfish person. (A quick, "Duh!" will be heard repeatedly around my family and friends who read this post) Fear does not help a selfishness. Everyday I try... Babies don't come with an "off" switch.

I guess the best part now is seeing what's coming out of Elijah as he has gotten a little older. His smiles. His laughter at things that he sees as new, like the cat jumping off the couch or the snap of your fingers. His attempts at saying, "Ball" and "Uh Oh" are not quite there but you really want to help by repeating it over and over. "Daddy" is going to be a bit more complicated to say... I'll keep waiting though. So many words... so much time. As long as he doesn't pick up my frequent use of one-syllable words we're all good.

He stood today. All on his own. No support... Each day brings a new milestone, a new chapter, a new phase. We'll forever for the day he goes to school, or gets that first "A" on his report card or for the day when he rips the diaper off and smears it along the walls. We'll wait for those days... I just want to enjoy those simple things that are new to him now. I can't wait to see him walking or running ahead to the park.

Just a darling son...