Happy X-mas (war is over)

Merry Christmas!!

"Sometimes my life it feels like fiction..."

My first official semester as a student in the Music Education Program at our local University ended today. It was a great experience! I met scores of intelligent, talented people. I learned a lot about myself and my guitar. I got nervous, got excited, had a kick-ass recital with the Guitarkestra, and then learned more about who I really am.
My typical day consisted of getting G-man ready for the day, going to school, going to work, going back to school, getting G-man from daycare (every Monday and Wednesday), getting his dinner, bath and bedtime together, practicing 'till the wee hours of the morning and then doing the whole thing again the next day. I stayed up too late for months practicing and studying. I learned how to learn. I am learning (it's an on-going process) how to deal with incredible amounts of stress.
My relationship with my lovely wife has been stretched (don't worry we are okay).
My relationship with my family—my siblings and parental units— has become almost non-existent (don't worry we are okay).
I can play a major scale at least fifteen different ways on my guitar.
I can play any given chord at least two different ways.
I can actually read music now.
I can play the piano....a little.
I have only begun to scratch the surface of understanding my guitar and music.
I feel good about myself for not giving up.
I lost my job and became unemployed.
I need a job.
I turn 30 tomorrow.

I know I am rambling but I don't care. I just need to post something.

I am going outside for a cigarette and then down to my cave to practice until Pixie gets home.

"The times they are a changing"

I did not vote for him.

I do not agree with many of his policies.

But he is my president and I will support him.

Good Luck Obama.

"America the beauiful..."

America, stop being brainwashed!

People say that voting third party is a waste of time. I tell those people to blow it out their ass. If enough of us wake up and realize that we have more choices than just the Democrats and Republicans, we might have a hope maintaining what our forefathers intended: A glorious and free America. I do not want to see my nation become a failing superpower heading towards socialism; a nation of whiners who feel entitled to the American Dream without working towards that dream; who wait for Big Brother to tells us what to think and where to go. If what I say seems too radical, well it is radical. Just allow the Federal government to further strip your freedoms away under the guise of "We know what's best for you." Let the Federal government tax you on every concievable item. Bend over while they take away your freedom of choice, your freedom of speech, your right to bear arms, your privacy, your free enterprise, on and on and on and before you know what has happened we are all wearing brown jump suits and pledging allegiance to a camera that follows you around all day.

Okay that may be a little extreme, but you get the point right?

If you really want to make a change then vote...Libertarian.

That's right, Libertarian.

Sure the Libertarian party will not win this election, but if enough of us vote Libertarian, we will send a clear message to the assclowns on the hill that 'We the People' are tired of the two-party system. We will send the message that we want more personal responsibility and less government intrusion. We will send the message that we are paying attention and that we don't like what we see.

I know that I might be viewed as a loony for posting my eccentric political beliefs (am I crazy for not wanting to live off the governments teat? Am I crazy for not liking either of the candidates and therefore not settling for the lesser of two evils?), but in the immortal words of Pop-eye; "That's all I can stand and I can't stands no more!"

So this tuesday I will not waste my vote like millions of other sheople. To steal a platitude that both parties rely on; I will cast my ballot in the hope for real change.

If you have a right mind and have paid attention to both sides of the current political spectrum than you might just as well have come to this conclusion also. Anybody who is not a true Democrat might understand. And for the rest of you bleeding-hearts, just realize that the people can take care of themselves. We do not need a government to hold our hands. It is time to grow up and take responsibility for your own life. Take responsibility for your own government.

"Oh say can you see..."

Something of interest.

"There's something happening here..."

So the government bailed out AIG, just weeks after the Federal intervention of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac.

That scares the hell out of me.

To accomplish these unusual and severe tactics to secure stability of the market, the government is using close to two-hundred billion dollars of our tax money. In exchange for this assistance, the government is taking the lion's share of stock in these companies until the money is paid back.

I have a question. Since our tax dollars have bailed these companies out of the financial crisis that was created by corporate greed and the inability to foresee the near future of the economy, when will I be receiving my profit share check? After all we pay for the government; they use our money for every bullshit bureaucracy they create, and every hair-brained, pork-fat, asinine program they create and every palm they grease, and all the money they hand out to their friends and family. That is our money. Not theirs.

I have another question. How long is the average American — the majority of the population that pays for all this bullshit while trying to make ends meet (no, not the welfare junkies or the elitist rich)— going to put up with this ridiculous and rampant government spending? When will enough be enough? When gas is eight, nine, ten dollars a gallon? When the price of a gallon of milk is six or seven dollars? When you can't even afford to heat your house in the winter because some fat cat CEO and politician have decided to jack up the rates for their own interests?

Do you think John McCain or Barack Obama are going to change anything? You are delusional if you think that. I am not saying they won't try for the first month or so, but that is when the real leaders (congress) will pound any iota of change back into this unbalanced Parliament of Whores. And besides, they are all career politicians, they are part of the problem, not the solution.

If you care about this country, or the little bit of freedom you have left, then vote third party so we can abolish this perpetual two-party system. Or, grow some testicles and rise up against this tyrannical government and take back America.

Or just sit on your ass and be brainwashed by Hollywood, and wait for Big Brother (the personification of totalitarianism from the book 1984...not the shitty, mind-numbing, superficial t.v. show) to tell you what to do.

There, I feel better now.

"Nobody knows you, when you're down and out."

I started my classes yesterday.

I am not nervous, just excited. The classes and people are great! A myriad of people all there for the love of music. The workload seems a little overwhelming, but nothing a little organization and elbow grease can't handle. After all, I am just starting.
Okay, I am a little nervous about finances. I still feel selfish for going back to school, when I should be killing myself working to support my family. Well not killing myself but being a better provider than what I am now. I have not quit my job to become a full time student, I just took a small cut in pay. That doesn't mean I don't want to be a better provider, it's just taking me longer to get where I want to be. Working and fighting to realize one's aspirations is not easy...ever, but I implemented this plan months ago and will see it through to it's long, arduous end. Thank a seemingly omnipotent yet ambiguous personification of all our doubts and fears (GOD?, come on people it's not funny if I have to explain...) for Pixie's support, you are great baby!

Needless to say the old purse strings are going to be drawn even tighter. Living puts a strain on our income. Do you know how much money I could save if I didn't have to buy anything? Who really needs to purchase frivolous merchandise like deodorant, toothpaste, or toilet paper right? I just won't sweat, use my teeth to eat and wipe with my hand. Adding a child strains the income further; now I have to buy extra food and water and deodorant, not to mention diapers, wipes, lots and lots of milk and more diapers. Now throw a smaller budget and the inevitable mountain of student loans into the mix.
We don't mind staying at home eating a nice meal as opposed to going out to an upscale eatery like Del Taco, but because of my selfish acts, my family will have to cut out some of our lavish lifestyle, like eating generic brand everything—is there a generic brand for generic brands? We already eat Happy Circles instead of Cheerios, what's next Complacent Eclipses? And as far as me not eating lunch, I will have to skip breakfast and dinner as well.
Also no more turning on the lights at night. This might also make our eyes stronger which could led to a savings at the optometrist. Or we could make candles out of ear-wax—which, if we run low, might be a good way to met the neighbors.
And "If it is yellow let it mellow, if it is brown flush it down." will have to be changed to "If it is yellow or if it is brown, dig a hole in the ground." Not only would we not owe a huge $50 water bill four times a year, we could fertilize the front yard.
Showers will be reduced from every third day to every other week. I'm on the water saving kick. This might prove tricky if I stop buying deodorant.
In an effort to save electricity, I will no longer be using the Internet to post my blog. I will send out carrier pigeons every third Friday to keep you all informed of my happenings. You might be shocked that I would increase the frequency of my posts, but I have ulterior motives. Please feed them well and send them back, as I will eventually eat them.
I thought about becoming a gigolo, come on Fab, you know you want to.

In all seriousness though, my pay cut and G-man needing daycare, we are strapped. My only hope is to win the lottery....or slip and fall in one of the anchor stores of the area's new upscale mall. It's a long way to the mall, I better start thumbing.

What ways could you save money?

"All your compliments and your cutting remarks are captured here in my quotation marks "

I just realized that I have not been updating my Ten Books in 12 Months list. Well, I have thought about the list before but I am finally getting around to posting about it. I have not, however, forgotten about reading the books that I set out to read in order to accomplish my goal of ten books in twelve months, ya know like I had stated in the opening sentence of this paragraph, which depending on how fast you read was probably only a few seconds ago, or not as you very well might have grown tired of this blog and hit that little next button at the top of the page, in which case you are not here any longer and this sentence has become obsolete, course you would not know because you are not here anymore, so your loss. Okay now that we have that run-on out of the way here is a re-cap of my list:

1. George Harrison Biography/ Order of the Phoenix
I counted these two books as one, because I felt the Biography was a little too short to count as a book and the Potter book was—I thought at the time—a child's novel.
2. Half-Blood Prince
3. Deathly Hallows
You can see I changed my mind about the merit of the Potter series. They ended up being extremely entertaining. I will own these one day so that G-man can enjoy them as much as Pixie and I did.
4. Animal Farm
I think the last time I mentioned this list of books I was half-way through this book. Animal Farm was good the first time I read it, but better the second time. I said it before, but I will say it again...poor Boxer.
5. 1984
Same as Animal Farm so far as enjoyment factor. Also very scary when you think at how close these novels came in representing modern day government and society.
6. Journey to the Center of the Earth
Not as good as I thought it was going to be though it was a welcome break to the totalitarian theme of the past two books.
7. Fahrenheit 451
Okay, back to the future with another scary government-controlled-utilitarian-society novel. If you have never read this novel before, I implore you to give it a chance. Try and get the fiftieth anniversary edition that contains the afterword, coda and interview with Bradbury. He has some very poignant quotes.

I have no idea what the eighth book is going to be. I want to visit more classics, maybe even another Verne book—hey, I'll give him a second chance. If anyone has a favorite classic they wish to recommend then bring it on. I will entertain all ideas.

"Baby it's the guitar man"

Yesterday I went to a bar about twelve miles south of Toledo, in the quaint little town of Waterville for a bi-weekly open mic night. The bar was mostly empty save a few friends of the DJ/Guitar player there to sing and take turns playing. After consuming a pint of liquid courage I stepped up to the mic and performed the demo version of "Mystical One" from the George Harrison album Gone Troppo.

I was still to shy to sing, but the song is pretty and went over well. It was slightly odd not playing on my guitar—this guitar had very low action which I don't care for—so I went out to my truck and retrieved mine.

I quickly lost my nerves and paitently waited for my next turn. This time I did one of my songs, which recieved a pretty good response from my peers. I only have two verses to that particular song at this point but it felt good to play my music in public for people who are not personal friends of mine. That was to change quickly though as the two other guitar players, three singers and I hit it off. I sat in on every song after that. It was an interesting experience and a great exercise in some of the many areas that I need to work on including but not limited to: networking, playing outside of my comfort zone, putting my music out there (even if only to a mostly empty bar), and playing new-to-me music. Some songs I had never heard of, some I had never played, others I haven't played in a long time, but all the songs were fun. We went an hour and a half past the alloted time, but no one seemed to mind.

By the end of the night we were a little tipsy, a little from the drinks but mostly from the high of having fun playing music. Everyone was glad that I played and sang and seemed to be excited at the prospect of having a new person to jam with every other sunday. I felt very welcomed by the crowd and will most likely go back for the next jam. This has given me the motivation to try and find other open mic nights to play.

Living the dream.

"We're gonna have a good time"

Happy Birthday Pixie!

Over the years I have learned that one must be sensitive when discussing a woman's age. Therefore, I am not going to crack any jokes about how extremely old she will be. Nope, not even going to compare her age with that of soil. I do not want to be that person who takes a very serious matter like being "youthfully challenged" and drives the joke over the hill and into the ground.

So I will simply say many things become better with age: wine, investments, cheese. You are wise and tenured. Aged like a stinky cheese. And you know how much I love me some stinky cheese.

Wishing you all you would wish yourself. I love you baby!

"The wheels of fiction run in my mind"

The rusted cogs of a
Silent machine,
Have polished silver
Hidden beneath.

Screeching, squawking
And foofing smoke—
Now it works—that
machine ere was broke.

The squeaky wheel
That wanted grease now
Has sibilant slang sliding from
Its cheeks.

Rambling Man

Okay. So it has been over a month since my last post. I have been very busy as of late. I am going back to school to pursue a career in music—my life-long dream, concentrating on being a good father, trying to find another job that will work with my crazy school schedule, practicing my guitar, trying to record my songs, touching myself, shopping for tissues (I can just imagine my mother-in-law shaking her head), reading about other bloggers who are taking that first leap of faith in an effort to find happiness, questioning my sanity, extorting shop owners, building up courage and knocking down walls. I'm also getting around to painting the house and doing the garden.

I am so busy living life that I don't have time to write about it. Go figure.

How about a nice picture?


In other news I had to go buy a new glass slide for my guitar. I went to grab my guitar, forgot it was plugged into the midi-interface and the chord pulled the slide right onto the basement floor. Yeah, shattered into thousands of pieces, one of which lodged into the extremely calloused sole of my foot. I didn't realize this and when I went to scratch the top of my other foot I cut my toe open. Fun.

The fingers on my left hand are between an eighth and a quarter inch longer than the fingers on my right hand. Weird huh?

G-man is getting his pre-molars. He can be cranky.
He also just learned how to drink from a straw.

Okay, back to living. I'll be back later.

"In the flesh"

Now that I have installed a new back door, my plan is to move our iMac down into the basement and begin setting up a mini-studio. I have roughly twenty-five songs I have written and would like to start fleshing them out into actual-honest-to-goodness-I-can-really-hear these-and-not-just-in-my-head songs. Even if they are all simply produced with a minimum amount of layering and dubbing and instruments—shit even if it's just my acoustic—I want to get them all down.

Who knows maybe I will investigate publishing them. Or, maybe I can find someone to buy the composition.

Another idea I had was to somehow set up the songs so that one could hear them and hopefully enjoy the song enough to purchase it online. Though, I will have to have Pixie's computer expertise to guide me through that endeavor.

JQ plays and records music. JQ no fancy with com-poo-tor.

All I want is to get them down once and for all (until I tweak them later) and feel like I have accomplished something.

My goal is going to be two songs a month. I want to set the bar a little low so that I can actually achieve my goal.

"Poppa was a rolling stone..."

Happy Fathers day to my Dad. You are a gentle spirit with a huge heart and a serious need of a haircut.

Happy Fathers day to my Father-in-law from the island. You like to hunt animals with a bow and arrow.

Happy Fathers day to my Father-in-law in Illinois. You have an impressive shirt and tie collection.

Simply wishing all of the dads in your life a great fathers day!

"Hidden in the lines, Written on the pages, is the answer to the....."

It was a great weekend. I was sick as a a dog on Saturday, which was no fun. I never get sick. I honestly can't remember the last time I was ill, but I won't forget Saturday for a long time. It was a wasted day.

Sunday was much better. I spent the entire morning doing the odd jobs for other people that I should have done Friday, but was too lazy and couldn't do Saturday. Then we tried to go to the Zoo but ended up driving right past as the line to get in extended for miles down the highway. So we ended up going to one of the many fine metro parks in our area and had a spot of lunch. G-man got to run around in great big open spaces—which he loves to do. Then we went to Best Buy. Pixie got herself something nice (she might tell you about it), G-man got a sweet new Elmo video and I got one of my favorite movies from my youth; "The Never Ending Story". We watched it Sunday night. That movie rocks! It was a great trip sown nostalgia lane. Then I read three chapters of Biology interspersed with ever-increasing amounts of caffeine and after everyone went to bed I took my online Biology test.

Monday we slept in until 8:30, jumped out of bed, woke G-man up, packed a lunch and headed to the Zoo. Members were allowed to get in the gate one hour before anybody else all weekend. That was awesome! There was hardly anybody in the parking lot which allowed us to park within a city block of the front gate! It felt like we had the whole zoo to ourselves. They have a new amphibian exhibit, among the other fine displays, which G-man enjoyed. We have been to the Zoo at least three times now (Pixie, Grandma and G-man went without me once) and our membership has already paid for itself.
Oh but that's not all, later in the day we took a walk up to the Super Wal-mart to get milk and juice and passed a shoe store along the way. I bought myself some new sandals. Why am I so excited? The last time I bought sandals the country was not in "war", the price of gas was reaching an astounding $1.25 a gallon and I was still living in the apartment above my parents house. Yeah I needed new sandals.

All-in-all it was a nice relaxing weekend with my family. Pure Heaven.

"Momma's gonna keep Baby healthy and clean."

Today is Mothers Day. Back when we had a rabbit I would cut out a crooked little heart, glue some sparkles to the front, scratch my name on the back and write “Happy Mommy’s Day” smack dab in the middle. Rabbits, as we all are aware, aren't very good artists so I was lucky enough not to have to work too hard. This year I finally don’t have to get my wife anything….G-man is on his own. However I will say:

For hand growing our child with out the use of pesticides, and making him turn out perfect, Happy Mothers Day.

For enduring through twenty hours of excruciating natural labor, only to have a giant needle shoved in your back, your abdomen sliced open and our child pulled out, Happy Mothers Day.

For selflessly sacrificing your body in order to grow our little boy, Happy Mothers Day.

For staying up all night long in the Hospital for three days in a row to make sure our little boy was still breathing, Happy mothers Day.

For Loving me enough to want to have my child, Happy Mothers Day.

For all the times you have cleaned up poopie diapers, wiped boogers up with your bare hands, stayed up all night with G-man, listened to my whining, cleaned the living room after a hard day, comforted us with your gentle touch, Happy Mothers Day.

For all the times you have gone above and beyond the call of duty to make G-man and I feel comfortable, Happy Mothers Day.

We love you Mommy!

(That's Louie the elephant with his mom. I thought it was a nice sentiment.)

And to my own Mother: Even though you don’t have a computer and will probably never read this blog, I love you mommy, you rock!

And to my mother-in-law: you did a great job raising Pixie and even though I find it awkward to call you mom, I love you just the same. Happy mothers day!

And to my other mother-in-law: I love you too, you crazy yooper you! Happy mothers day!

"Any road will take you there"

I had a very exciting day yesterday. I spent all day at orientation at a local University. I am going back to school to get a degree in music. More specifically music education.
A lot has been going on in my life lately, and I finally decided to pursue the dream I have had since I was a kid. Of course back then I wanted to be a rock star, but the point is I love music and I want to be involved somehow. If I can get other people to appreciate music as much as I do, I will have made that difference in the world I always thought I would make.
Why shouldn't I pursue my dream? I will only be here for so long, and hopefully am not coming back, so now is the time.
There is a long hard road in front of me and I would be lying if I said I was not a little scared. This is my dream. I will live it.

Rock Lobster

I have been very busy as of late. I feel like I should have something to post to remain a part of the blogging community. I will talk about why I am so busy when I find some time, not being so busy. So here is another silly post. Enjoy.


The other day I spotted.....


...the very rare and deadly one-eyed lobster.


This cranky crustacean is usually found sulking in the bottom of large bodies of water, not in living rooms. However without the added drag of water to slow the angry arthropod down, it is very agile and likes to sneak up on it's victims.


One-eyed lobsters are very patient, waiting for the exact moment to pounce.


The malignant Malacostraca leaps into the air, trying to clamp on to the carotid artery and use a pair of large pointy flappers to inject a lethal dose of poison- which oddly enough consists of two parts butter and one part garlic paste.


Thankfully the deadly lobster has missed it's mark and been swatted away.


The proper way to clutch the deadly lobster is right behind the large pincher, so that it does not give you an owie.


Then neutralize the lobster by blinding it. Once it cannot see, you can taunt it all you wish. Just make sure to keep moving in circles. Lobsters have a very acute sense of hearing, a fragile psyche and are extremely sensitive to verbal abuse. They will sulk for hours when properly browbeaten, thus giving the would be victim ample time to scuttle away.


Hey wait a minute this was a regular lobster all along! No need to worry! I'll just go put a pot on to boil.

"I'm fixing a hole...." or "I'm a back door man"

I installed a new back door this weekend. The job was not as hard as I thought. I simply spent five hours tearing out the old door frame being very careful not to disturb anything. Then I spent another three and a half hours installing the new door. It turned out pretty good, though, like me, it's not perfect. You have to lift up on the handle before you close the door. To lock the door you have to wedge a piece of shim into the latch side, jimmy that over until it touches the lock, than lift the door up a quarter inch and wiggle it until it latches. To open the door you have to go out the front door walk around the house and hold the door steady. Meanwhile have somebody pop out the hinge pins and gently remove the door. Not a big deal.


Old Door from inside.


Rough opening.

Old door from outside.


New Door from outside.


New door and a big mess.


As you can see the brand new door looks great. I still have to finish the trim work and tweak the dead bolt a little, but other than those two tasks I am done.

Now Pixie, G-man and I can feel safe knowing that a crooked door is protecting us from the bad guys.

"Five foot two"

I think I have figured out how to put my sound files on Blogger. I recorded this song using a soprano ukelele and my iMac microphone. I mixed the song in Garage Band where I added just a few effects to get the "singing in a can effect". From there I had Pixie help me make a slide show and convert it to a movie with my song added, then uploaded that into Blogger. It's not perfect but it's a start. The song is called "Five foot two" and was written by Ray Henderson, Sam lewis and Joe Young. Enjoy!

"What is the ugliest part of your body?"

"What is the ugliest part of your body?
What is the ugliest part of your body?
Some say it's your nose, some say it's your toes
I think it's your mind." FZ

I think the ugliest part of my body is my feet. Followed closely by my knees and my teeth.

I made a pencil sketch of how I appear when I look in a mirror.




Not pretty is it?


What is the ugliest part of your body?


I bet it's your mind.

"NA na na na na na, you say it's your birthday."

Today is my son's first birthday. I cannot believe that he is one year old today. Just yesterday Pixie and I were pacing around the house waiting for the hospital to call and let us know we could come in and start the process. I don't think I ever smoked so much or slept so little. Just yesterday I was pacing the hospital floor drinking coffee, reassuring Pixie, massaging, talking, doing whatever I could for her, and trying not to fall asleep on my feet as Pixie rocked through nineteen plus hours of labor before she finally agreed on taking the epidural and having labor induced (you stubborn little shit G-man). Just yesterday I saw my wife laying on the operating table splayed open like a fish and twitching uncontrollably; my son being pulled from the womb; my eyes teary with a love I had never known. Just yesterday we stayed awake all night—too afraid to sleep— holding each other and staring at our beautiful son.
I can't believe it has been a year already. So much has happened in the past 365 days. Far too much to recap all in one post. All I can say is that being a father has changed my life; I am a better man because of you G-man. Thank you.
I could say that I can't wait to watch you grow up, but I can. I don't want you to grow up too fast. I want to be selfish and have you stay my little buddy forever. I know that won't happen, though you'll always be my little buddy. I love you so much. Happy birthday sweetie.

Working class hero

Today was the first day of my new job. Not exactly what I envisioned it being— no naked women serving free beer— but I think it will be a good thing for me. Coming from my old job, this place is a complete 180.

For starters, everything is accounted for, organized and put in its proper location. We are talking cages for hand tools, cages for chemicals, bays for trucks, sheds for misc. equipment and so on. Sign-in sheets for all equipment. Think of that really anal guy with the peg board in his garage, every tool outlined in white paint....that's this company.
At my old job we just threw whatever tool we were using nearby and tried to remembered where it was for the next time. Our equipment had a bay, but it was every item for itself; things stacked on top of things—chaos.

At my new job there is an electronic time clock. Everyone gets a magnetic card (like a credit card) with your name and employee I.D number on the back. You have to swipe the card through what looks like a credit card machine to clock in and out; precise time stamps down to the minute.
At my old job the time sheet was a piece of paper with a basic grid; the employee had to write their name in one box, the time in and out (rounded to the nearest quarter-hour) went in another box and then total their own hours at the end of the week which went in the final box.

The new company is taking the time to train us on not only proper techniques in what we do, but why it is done that way and the particular effects of both properly and improperly executing that particular service. Time spent on a job is less important than doing the job properly.
At my old job it was: "hurry the f@%$ up so we can get to the next job and make the money."

The new company offers: benefits, 401(k), annual bonus incentives, full uniforms, paid training, continuing education reimbursements, and travel expenses (when applicable).
At my old job, after eight plus years of dedicated employment I finally got a credit card for business expenses. There was also a summer bonus, Christmas bonus and miscellaneous small cash bonuses on certain cash only jobs. I will miss my old company for that reason.

The new company is 3.3 miles from my house. I will spend an average of $4.50 on gasoline (at current prices) traveling to and from work every week.
My old job was 17 miles away. I would spend an average of $23 dollars on gasoline (at current prices) a week going to and from work.

At the new company I am already a crew leader. I don't even know if anyone else works in this division; my name is the only one listed.
At my old job I was one of the only employees besides the owners. We did most jobs together.

These are just a few of the many contrasts between old and new. It's quite a shock for me. I feel like the dumb country mouse going to the big city.
I was telling Pixie that every gripe about poor planning or good idea I ever had about how to improve my last job has floated through time and space and morphed into this well-oiled machine of lawn care and landscape management.

I just have to talk to them about their beer and babe deficiency.

"Ch Ch Ch Ch Changes...."

Okay, another "stop-gap" post.

I am currently in negotiation with several reputable Lawn and Landscape companies in the Toledo area. One is encouraging me to get all sorts of certification and is willing to pay for said certification and everything that becoming certified entails.

How many times can I use the word certified?

The hours are great, the pay would start at slightly more than I make now, with a pay raise dolled out via salary ( I haven't worked hourly in so long that this is a huge plus for me), benefits, and 401(k) after my ninety day probation period. The company is literally five minutes away from my house which is a bonus as I could ride my bicycle there (if I had a bicycle). The people are friendly and I get a good vibe from them and the company.

It is not at all what I expected myself to be accepting when I resigned from my other job— I had delusions of grandeur about becoming a working artist—but I can roll with the punches. Besides I can still pursue my creative side in my spare time.

I feel that I will not just be some schlub cutting peoples grass, but really be able to advance and grow with this company. A real professional. And this will do until I can finally record my songs, write my book and make my million.

I just have to stay focused.

Addendum:
I have decided to take the job that I described above. It was really a hard decision choosing between this company and the other. Both made great offers, and both would be excellent companies to work for. I chose the above because it is so close to home and the hours are way better than the 8-6:30 (that is the average time) the other company offered; although I would have been the only person hired in as a foreman and the only other person besides management with a salary. My new job starts on Monday at 7:15 a.m. WOHOOOOOOOO!

"Helen, hell on wheels...."

I still am on hiatus but I don't want people to forget of my existence, so located at the bottom of this post is a rather interesting short story I started sometime ago. I had completely forgotten about this and perhaps for good reason. As you can tell it was more of an electronic scribble than anything, and who knows if I will ever flesh it out and finish the story. Make of it what you will.

Oh, in other news I have finished the Harry Potter series a few weeks ago. It was one of the best stories I have ever read! I also finished my fourth book "Animal Farm". I had read this before but it was a long time ago. All I have to say is poor Boxer.

I don't know what my fifth book will be. I was thinking "1984", but I have plenty of other options. Maybe I will read something a little lighter and then jump back into the Totalitarianism theme at a later date.

I have many ideas for posts but am swamped in the mire of life right now. One of them is a synopsis of "Animal Farm" using G-man's bath toys (they are farm animals). I will eventually get around to that. Until then enjoy the short story scribble.



“Artesanal
Provolone
Cheese
Spaghetti
Meatballs”


Hero:
Lengshaftian Meathlemet

Elf:
Lebian Marjriam

Heriione:
Nipplio Poccottous

Antagonist:
Roy Hemerald; a.k.a Goyatuar: a.k.a ?



Once upon a time there was a boy named Goyatuar. Across the stream and up the bank, among the Apple trees lived his friend Lengshaftian.
They were best friends. All day long they would throw rocks into the windows of the local Bait shop. At first they were scared that they would get caught, but they persisted.
One day Lengshaftian was on his way to Goyatuar’s house when he ran into a worm. The worm’s name was Roger.
Roger was a worm and he lived underground. But that was another story. Anyway, Roger told Lengshaftian all about the rumblings he felt in the forest. Lengshaftian laughed at Toader.
Yeah, Lengshaftian called Roger “Toader”. It was an inside joke…don’t worry about.
Toaders…err, I mean, Roger spat on the ground. His bottom half clenched into a tight ball, which jerked above his eyes and swung at Lengshaftian, who in turn, leaned away from the tiny thrust.
“Ha ha ha ha ha ah ah haha ha h ah ah ah h hh a h ah h” Roger laughed.
“Your insane.” Laughed Lengshaftian.
“’Hellene, hell on wheels. Ain’t nobody gonna know the table weaves.’” Sang longhsftian. These were, of course, the wrong words.

"Why can't we be friends?"

I'll be back soon. In the meantime enjoy these pictures of G-man attacking me and my...ahem...daring escape.

This is what happens when good kids go bad.

He is serious now....

...about to attack. This is when my fight instinct kicks in....

....and I scream like a little girl to confuse him. I think it worked.

I have successfully diffused the situation.

I live to see another day.

"I've been down so goddamn long that it looks like up to me."

Not a lot of exciting news to report on this end. I finished the Harry Potter series last Saturday and am currently half-way through "Animal Farm". I should have finished the book already, but I don't feel like reading right now. In fact, I don't feel like doing much of anything.

The job search is not going so good. Either I am under-qualified, or lacking the experience, or unwilling to take the job. I got an offer from a distant family member to work in a metal plating facility. It's not what I want to do with my life. The money is equal to what I am making right now (peanuts) but the job is highly unfavorable. I would run an automated line that dips various metal objects in a series of giant vats of cleaning solutions and finally in liquid aluminum, Teflon, or whatever else. Among the chemicals used in the process are cyanide and other lethal agents. The factory stunk and was loud. Yeah, no thanks.

I have found one job to apply to since then; that was over a week and a half ago and I still haven't heard from them, which is a little odd because I have plenty of experience and seem to be an ideal candidate for the job. Oh well.

It's impossible to do what I really want and make money at it. Playing music and writing actually involves doing these things and marketing my skills. One, when I do find a few minutes to actually achieve any writing or recording I am too depressed to write or play. It's hard for me to make the time because I feel that if I don't spend every waking minute with G-man I am being a neglectful father or that I am sticking the burden of raising him solely on Pixie. Two, I am not, nor have I ever been, the kind of person to market myself, which is kind of important in achieving the things I want to do. I am not anti-social but I have zero confidence and almost no self-esteem, so who would want to listen to or read my crap?

So I can't do what I want — which depresses me — and I have to work I job I don't care for (more like can't stand) anymore to pay the bills— which compounds the depression.

I am not having a good time and am finding myself struggling to not become depressed and drink and smoke heavily. I am becoming increasingly irritable which makes me feel like shit because I lash out at people who don't deserve to be treated poorly.

Meanwhile it seems that everyone around me is doing great; getting promotions, raises, bonuses, so on and so forth. I am happy for them but am asking "When is it going to be my turn to have something good (financially or job-related) happen?" I know I am blessed with a great son and wonderful wife, but why can't I find a good job doing something that I love? 'When lord, when's gonna be my time?'

Fuck. I feel so flustered, I don't even know what to complain about. Enough of my whining though, who wants to read that shit? I certainly don't want to write it, but I have to have some outlet, right?

The last thing I want is a bunch of people telling me to stay positive and all that jazz. I don't want your sympathy. How about finding me a job.



Did I mention G-man took a small unassisted step the other day? He is amazing! I have mixed emotions about this event. On one hand I think it's great that he will be walking soon. It's so exciting to watch him grow; discovering his surroundings and new abilities everyday. On the other hand I am not ready for him to grow up, nor is the house completely child-proof. Time to go the the hardware store, get some deer fencing and build him a cage.

"Love, Love, Love...."

Happy February 14th!

From JQ, Pixie and G-man

"Gimme a head with hair, long beautiful hair..."

Anybody recognize this person?







Give up?





I found this in a box of memorabilia yesterday when Pixie and I were cleaning the basement.

The year was 1996 and I was seventeen.

This is the picture for my registration/identification card for my senior year in High school. I woke up late that day and rushed to the school to get my class schedule, locker assignment, and my picture taken.

Aren't I handsome? I look like an extra from the Lucas County Correctional Facility's production of "Hair". Ah, to be young and free again. Free of a worries, free of responsibility, free of a good barber.

Believe it or not, I had my head shaved up to the top so that if you were to somehow manage to get my mop to stand up straight I would have had an awesome mohawk.

I have very thick, unruly hair and it took a lot of work to get my hair that long and not become an afro. Have you ever seen a skinny white kid with an afro? Yeah, not pretty.

I sometimes pine to grow my hair long again. Then I think of how awkward and goofy I looked in the process of growing my hair long and that desire is squelched.

So these days I sport a very tight haircut. If it starts to get to fuzzy, Pixie tells me I look like a Q-tip.


What did you look like in high school? Are you willing to share your senior picture? Does a nerdy ghost of past haunt you as well?

"Dance your cares away, work is for another day...."

"....let the Fraggles play, down at Fraggle Rock."

Don't worry it will be in your head all day now.

We went to the library on Monday to check out Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, the final installment of the series. I finished book six on Sunday and am 300 pages into the seventh already. It seems a little fast, but the books are an easy read and hard to put down.

So this will be the third book out of ten for the year. At this rate I will be done with all ten by the end of April. Maybe I should expand the perimeters of said goal to a hefty twenty books. On the other hand ten will be easy to accomplish and boost my self-esteem. Anything over ten will be gravy....mmmm, gravy.

Anyway, I walked past the library's collection of children DVDs, instantly spotting the complete first season of Fraggle Rock.

I LOVE FRAGGLE ROCK!

I used to watch the show all the time when I was younger (like in my early twenties). Gobo, Red, Wembley, Boober, the Doozers, Doc and Sprocket...They were all my friends....my only friends (sniffle).

We popped in the DVD as soon as we got home. G-man loved the Fraggles too! We have so much in common. Whats not to love I say? They are Muppets, they dance and sing goofy songs, and each episode has a positive moral, or social message. Remember when TV used to be like that?

So we are making our way through the 24 episodes of the complete first season. Each song they sing fills my heart with joy. Each post card from Uncle Traveling Matt that Gobo retrieves from "outer space" takes me back to my youth. It really is a great show and I am glad that G-man is able to experience the magic that is Fraggle Rock.

Does anybody else remember Fraggle Rock? If so, which Fraggle do you most relate to, and why? I expect at least one paragraph with specific examples from episodes that back up your choice. Don't forget to cite your sources.

"The baddest man in the whole damn town...."

What, you think you are tougher than me? Well, how many five year olds can you stomp at once?

28


Yeah, I'm a badass!

Okay, there is something weird with the above link. To see how many quinquennial punks you could wipe out click here.

"Butterfly in the sky, I can fly twice as high...."

I finished reading my first two books last week; Friday, I believe. Well, I say two books but it really only counted as one book.

The George Harrison Biography, I Me Mine, was different than I imagined. The beginning of the book was a brief biography written by Derek Taylor, smatterings of George’s words mixed-up in between. It was an interesting approach, but I felt somewhat jipped that George did not write the whole thing. George must have been too busy taking drugs, racing cars and playing music to write his own autobiography.

I can honestly say that I would have hired someone to write my book as well. But that is only because I am lazy, not because I have too many activities that demand my attention.

The whole Biography was only about two hundred pages or so long. I was reminded of Gonzo journalism. Taylor’s colloquialisms and writing style was very seventies-ish, and slightly verbose. Though in the end, I felt I had a better insight into the man who was the Dark horse.

The second half of the book was George’s song lyrics. Since this book was published in 1978 there were a lot of great songs he had not even recorded yet. The many songs that were in the book were accompanied by small quips, quotes, remembrances and reasons why he wrote those songs. That was very, dare I say, enlightening and entertaining.

I recommend I, Me, Mine to any Beatles fan, or George Harrison-a-holic (like myself) who pines for the inner knowledge of their favorite pop icons.

My second read was the fifth installment of the Harry Potter series: Harry Potter and the order of the Phoenix. This was an outstanding read! Rowling has really honed her craft in this book. Her story arc, character development, character relations, intricate plot line, word usage, point of view, voice and attitude, etc.....I mean everything, was just great!

I have to admit, I was a bit hesitant when I first started reading Harry Potter and the Sorcery’s Stone. The book was written for children and, well, read like it was written for children. I was not very impressed. Don’t get me wrong, the story itself was brilliant, but the way she crafted her story was asi-asi.

Each book has gotten progressively better, with number five being the best so far. She has ascended her story into the throws of semi-serious literature with Order of the Phoenix.
I am going to save my plot synopsis because I have to be the last person on earth to have read this series. You all know what happens. However, for all you Hardcore Harry fans, I will entertain any further discussion in my comments or via e-mail.

That being said, my second of ten books is going to be—drum roll please— Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I am going to count this as one whole book, seeing as how the line between children's literature and adult literature has been crossed as definitely as Grawp is tall.

In all honesty, I have already started the book and am two hundred odd pages into the story. Pixie and I are reading this one together, so I have to wait until she gets home tonight to read any more. Hurry honey, hurry!

"But all I got is this photograph...."

Alright boys and girls, it is the moment most of you have probably forgotten about. I am going to announce the winning photograph.

But first I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to all of you who stopped by, either of your own free will or because Pixie cajoled you into coming here. It really means a lot to me that so many strangers know what a goofy dip shit I can be. Really, I mean that from the bottom of my feet. Not only am I walking away from this with a new avatar, but I am gaining several new friends (to me a friend is any one who doesn't deny my existence after discovering that I do, in fact, exist). I would like to thank Lynda, Fig, Silicone Alley, Cruel Shoes, Vegas Princess, Shades and NayNayfazz for making the trek to my little pond and chiming in with their ballots. Of course I would also like to thank all my regulars, the non-bloggers, and the lurkers (you know who you are) for their votes.

And last but not least my beautiful wife Pixie. Without her relentless badgering of those poor innocent bloggers I would not have shattered my all-time comment record, or had as much fun doing this little election.

Okay, on with the results.

Picture #1 only got a few measly votes. Some people liked it, but didn't vote for the "Nose" shot. That is a shame because I really think my nose has a certain olfactory charm that you just don't find in non-nose body parts.

Picture #2, although warming the genitalia of most of the female bloggers (sorry honey, it's Gods gift to me) and a few of the blokes out there, failed to find the winners seat, so I canned it.

So, if you haven't guessed by now, the big winner is Picture #3— the swimming cap photo. The people have spoken and they say nothing exemplifies JQ like a frilly, rubbery, flower cap so tightly fitted around my unusually large cranium that my face looks like a toy sea cucumber being squeezed to death.

To be fair though it really isn't mine, I swear! It's his!


Thanks again for playing along. My usual mind numbing word vomit will resume tomorrow.

"Oh I'm picking out a thermos for you. Not an ordinary thermos for you...."

Maybe you can help me pick a new avatar. Maybe I'll take your considerations to heart. I might even agree with someone and choose the one they like over the popular vote.

I will most likely do whatever I want.

I, being the tireless taker of goofy self-potraits, feel the need to change my avatar often. None of the pictures I have had so far really capture my personality(ies) in just the right way. So this time I will show you three pictures and allow you to choose the new face of JQ. That's right, the picture which receives the most votes will become the new visage of the same, tired old rhetoric. Exciting huh?

Don't get too giddy, I will most likely change it soon.

So brush up on your voting skills—this is an election you have to think about.

Picture #1

I thought this picture would show my ability to sniff out excellent ideas and relate them in a humorous, yet enlightening way to my readers.

Picture #2

I choose this picture because it's my good side. Plus, people tell me what a huge ass I am all the time.

Picture #3

This is my swimming cap. What?


Addendum:

There are only a few voting days left. Tell your friends and neighbors. Call your Great Aunt Macy, write your local inmate, spread the word to have everyone cast their ballot. The new picture will appear Friday afternoon at precisely 12 p.m.—or whenever I get around to posting the results. Until then, enjoy yourselves, but don't forget the tissues.

"You'll have to have them all pulled out ...."

I woke up this morning with an aching tooth. This pain has been going on since before Christmas. Well, if you want to be fair about it, it has been going on for a long time, it just came to a head this morning.

I awoke with a headache and my tooth was killing me. I don't like to complain and I like to think I have a slightly above average tolerance for pain, but one thing I don't like is mouth pain. It might have something to do with the fact that when I was a kid I was climbing the walls in the bathroom at the county's rec center when I slipped and fell right on my face. Many stitches and liquefied foods later I healed, but I still remember that day like it was almost twenty years ago.

Anyway, I had had enough of the pain this morning and decided to call the dentist. Luckily he had an availability in the late morning.

I arrived at the office, and explained to him my discomfort. He had his assistant x-ray my mouth and several minutes later we were discussing what the problem might be. He thought it could be the deep cavity I had filled several years ago. I explained that the pain shoots up into my jaw and that I even feel discomfort in my tongue. I told him that there was no sensitivity to hot or cold, just an ache. He asked me exactly what tooth hurt and I told him the very last one on the top right. My wisdom tooth.

I have never had them removed and they are a constant source of pain and discomfort for me. I told him to go ahead and pull it.

He gave me some novocaine and proceeded to push the tooth around to loosen the root. The way you can feel the pressure but not the pain is an unsettling experience in my opinion. It felt like a cloth being torn apart. It was quite an odd feeling, but I am glad it wasn't painful. Which reminded me of the last time I visited his office and requested no novocaine for a cavity. Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking.

Everything went fine. It only took a few minutes from the time I was numb to the time I requested to see my tooth. Not what you would expect to see as a root. It looked more like a pyramid, or an ice cream cone.

I have had a piece of gauze in my mouth since this morning. Every time I think the clot has formed I take out the gauze and within minutes I can feel and taste the blood. I thought I was good after I put G-man to bed, but when I went to take the gauze out there was a large clot on the gauze (which was soaked with blood). I have had a bowl of oatmeal and a few glasses of water today. I am effing starving, but I am afraid to eat anything as it might disrupt the clot.

I hope this wisdom tooth was the problem. If not I am going to be upset. Especially since I have no insurance and my Dentist just remodeled his office.

On the bright side I got rid of some iron and I haven't had a cigarette all day. Though I am seriously considering it.

"Now they're frightened of leaving it...."

Pixie and I are both going to read ten books this year. My first book of the year is actually going to be two books. I am going to stick with the Harry Potter series until I finish that. I am on book number five; Harry potter and the Order of the Phoenix. At the same time I am reading I, me, mine the George Harrison biography. I figured that having a juvenile fiction book counter-balanced by a biography of a rock star would count as one good read. What do you think?

After I finish the Harry Potter series I was thinking of picking up an Ayn Rand novel as per a discussion on Pixies blog. Either Fountainhead or Atlas Shrugged. I don't know though, that requires a lot of time looking up all those big words. Words like shrugged and atlas.

I have been a sloth lately. I just wrote 'I have been a slot lately' before correcting myself. Well, maybe. I have felt a tad clammy. Nine weeks until I don't have a job anymore. The job I have had for almost a decade now. I have no idea what is out there for me, but I know I can't go back. I am burnt out and honestly don't want to do that anymore. I have plenty of ideas about what I want to do but no good ideas on how to not do anything and still make money. Any ideas?

Something will come along. I just have to be confident and apply myself.

Well, back to the book.

Nothing from Nothing

I was finally tagged by someone. Well it wasn't someone it was Nobody. I squawked like a little girl because I have always wanted to be tagged. So here you are people of the blog-o-sphere, seven inane facts about yours truly.


1.When I was younger I used to stick tweezers into the electrical outlets at my parents house. I swear I melted a few of them without so much as a burnt finger. That might help in explaining my odd behavior.

2. Sometimes at night I like to fart and then pull the covers over my head.

3. I almost cut my finger off changing a lawn mower blade at work. About a year later I hit the same finger with a sledgehammer and had to have plastic surgery to reattach the tendon. I postponed the operation for four days so Pixie and I could go see Tom Petty in concert. After the concert we went to Drummond Island for vacation. I never took the pain killers save for recreation.

4. I own one six string guitar, one twelve string guitar, one baritone ukulele, one soprano ukulele, one bass, three electric guitars, one violin, two mouth harps, one washboard, one set of drums, one keyboard and a four track.

5. All my post titles are either song titles or snippets of lyrics from songs.

6. I had a pet cat from the time I was twelve until two years ago. He was oddly intelligent. I swear he was an alien sent to observe humans.

7. I am twenty-nine years old and still sing Space Ghost songs to my wife. She sings along.

I will not be tagging anybody else because Nobody and I pretty much read the same seven people and he already tagged them. Fucker.

My little Child

I love my son.

"It's getting better all the time..."

So the new year is upon us, have you resolved to ameliorate your physical, mental, financial, spiritual, or emotional being in an effort to transform into that vibrant enlightened human you have always dreamed of becoming? Or, are you like me: too stupid and lazy to accept any challenge to overcome personal foibles?

I can clamber atop my high-horse and spew about how I am going to: read ten books this year (what a husband and wife can't share new years goals?), pursue my dream of playing music professionally (and by professionally I mean I am going to try and get at least one gig this year or sell one of my songs to a famous artist for thousands of dollars—easy enough huh?), be more patient and understanding, and write more—perhaps finish some of my ideas for a change. Or I can bore you all to tears about how wonderful our first Christmas with the G-man was, but I will leave that story up to Pixie.

Instead I am going to direct your attention to the brand new guitar I purchased over the Holidays. I am quite pleased with it's performance, but am most happy with the small amount of money I spent on it. The story of how the guitar came to be in my possession is long and full of anti-climaxes, protagonists, antagonists, a midget named Harry and fourteen pounds of potato salad. But I will spare you the details and just say that I won't be buying instruments at Guitar Center in the future.




Sorry to disappoint you Jacob, but I did not buy a Breedlove. I purchased a smooth playing, folk-style guitar manufactured by a company named Godin. One of their many fine products, the Art and Lutherie guitar, has reminded me how much I miss playing my six-string acoustic. The price of said guitar has reminded me of how much of a cheap ass I am. It was a win-win buying this axe. Not only did I spend way less than I was going to spend, but I got a better sounding guitar. Hey, and it's pretty to boot.




So while most people have resolved to buy expensive Gym memberships that will undoubtedly fall by the wayside February first, I am going to crack a beer and work on becoming a literate rock star with a lot of patience.

Oh yeah I hope everybody had a great Holiday with their family and friends. I know we did.