Two Weeks Notice

I submitted my two weeks notice today. I was expecting a shit-storm, but my immediate boss took it quite well. The owner took it well enough.

The fact of the matter is, I'm not an ideal employee and I'm an awful manager. I just have no interest in managing someone else's business.

But I'm really great at generating creative ideas, at writing, and at creating marketing systems (just not at managing them). And that means my skill set is more suited to be the occasional "hired gun" NOT a full-time staff member.

So starting January 1, I'll officially be unemployed...and LOVIN' IT! Not the unemployed part...the part about being an entrepreneur starting my own business.

It's the only way to true wealth.

And the great part about being a marketing consultant is that I know exactly how to market my services! It won't be long before I've landed my first client. I've got my plan all laid out.

Anyway, now that I've actually given notice, I'm relieved. Talk about a big load off. I can't tell you how nervous I was anticipating the "shit-storm," and it didn't even happen!

I think they realize it's best for the company, anyway. (I really not the ideal employee.)

The Stan

Coming Soon...FREEEEEEDOOOOMMMM!!!

Okay, time to clear out the cobwebs on my blog. Been awhile...and during that time I've endured stress, triumph, depression, more stress, hope, horror, disappointment, more triumph, more stress...you know, life as usual.

But my life is about to change dramatically REALLY soon because of a promise I made myself more than a year ago: that 2007 would be the year I start my own business. Yet here it is with December half way over and where's my business?

I've felt trapped in my job. Trapped because I felt like I needed to achieve a certain minimum level of results before moving on. Yet my boss is such a perfectionist and miser that it takes forever to get anything done. Things that needed to be done MONTHS ago. Things that have held me up from finishing important projects.

Like when he decided to save money on implementing the new software system by configuring it himself. Took 5 months to get just the first half done. We STILL haven't implemented the web store. Testing data that I needed in February was done just a month ago. Last week was the final photo shoot for photos that I needed back in March. The only reason we hired a photographer (instead of John doing it himself) is because he finally realized he didn't have the time to do it.

But I don't care anymore. Come January 1, I'm outta there. I've held up my dreams for too long waiting for things to get done. It sounds pathetic...like I'm passing blame on someone else, but I really had no control over those things that needed to be done. It was my boss's responsibility. I can't order my boss around. If he wants to do something himself, but doesn't have time to do it, what can I do?

I can decide when it's time for me to move on and start my own business once and for all. So come January 1, come hell or high water, I'll be the president of Multiplicity Marketing (web site currently in development.)

Before I leave, I'll finish up the catalog/special report at the very least. As for the rest, I don't really give a damn. My damn has already been given. I've no more damns to give.

I'm really looking forward to my freedom. I know it will come with more responsibility and an even greater need to manage my time well. But at least I'll sink or swim based on the decisions I alone make.

This is the last job I will ever have. I swore that to myself one year ago and I'm keeping it. Whatever happens, I'm an entrepreneur. I'll figure something out.

Here's to freedom!

The Stan

Barbarians at the Gate

Enjoy, my friends....

New Video of the L.A. Metropolitan Brass Band

This just in...a trombone feature from the Mother's Day 2006 concert. The video quality is poor--this wasn't a professional video. But it's the music that really counts, isn't it?

Once I find out the actual title and arranger of this piece, I'll post those details. In the meantime...enjoy

Back By Popular Demand!

Okay, not really. I've been on hiatus from blogging for quite awhile, though. Been busy as a one-armed paper hanger in a hurricane. In fact, I'm so far behind I've got to walk backwards just to catch up. I've got more work cut out for me than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest. I've got a few more, but I digress.

The 21 Day Experiment was a success! Changed my life. Though I've gotten lazy lately ever since the power went out last week and the alarm didn't go off! Next day, I set the alarm right, and it STILL didn't go off. It was then that I realized Alba had set the time 12 hours off. So the third day, the alarm goes off, but in my half-daze I hit the snooze button and sleep in until 8:00 am.

I suppose there is daylight savings time coming up in a couple of weeks to help set me straight, but I'll have to repeat the 21 Day Experiment sooner than that.

Moving on...

The brass band is slowly coming together. November 11 should be a great concert and I expect lots of people to be there. In case you haven't heard the band, here's a "secret" video that recently came to light. Enjoy...

The Stan Gets Political

A man walked into a very high-tech restaurant in a fancy hotel. As he waited to be seated, he noticed that the Maitre D' was a robot.

The robot clicked to attention and said, "Sir, there is a one hour wait. And I am programmed to converse with you until a table is ready, If you please."

Intrigued, the man said, "OK."

The robot clicked a couple more times and then asked, "Sir, what is your IQ?"

The man answered, "Oh, about 164."

The robot then proceeded to discuss the theory of relativity, interstellar space travel, the latest medical breakthroughs, etc.

The man was most impressed. The next day he returned, But thought he would try a different tack.

The robot again asked, "What is your IQ, sir?"

This time the man answered, "Oh, about 100".

So the robot started discussing NASCAR racing, the latest basketball scores, and what to expect the Red Sox to do this weekend.

The guy had to try it one more time. So the next day he returned.

Again the robot asked the question, "What is your IQ?"

This time the man drawled out,....'bout 50."

The robot clicked, then leaned close and very slowly asked,

"A-r-e

y-o-u-r

p-e-o-p-l-e

g-o-i-n-g t-o

n-o-m-i-n-a-t-e

H-i-l-l-a-r-y?"



The Stan ;)

P.S. Wasn't that "Hillaryous?"

Little Jimmy's Letter From Camp

Dear Mom & Dad:

Our Scoutmaster told us to write to our parents in case you saw the flood on TV and are worried. We are okay. Only one of our tents and 2 sleeping bags got washed
away.

Luckily, none of us got drowned because we were all up on the mountain looking for Adam when it happened. Oh yes, please call Adam's mother and tell her he is okay. He can't write because of the cast.

I got to ride in one of the search and rescue jeeps. It was neat. We never would have found Adam in the dark if it hadn't been for the lightning.

Scoutmaster Keith got mad at Adam for going on a hike alone without telling anyone. Adam said he did tell him, but it was during the fire so he probably didn't hear him.

Did you know that if you put gas on a fire, the gas will blow up? The wet wood didn't burn, but one of the tents did and also some of our clothes. Matthew is going to look weird until his hair grows back.

We will be home on Saturday if Scoutmaster Keith gets the bus fixed. It wasn't his fault about the wreck. The brakes worked okay when we left.

Scoutmaster Keith said that with a bus that old you have to expect something to break down; that's probably why he can't get insurance.

We think it's a neat bus. He doesn't care if we get it dirty and if it's hot, sometimes he lets us ride on the fenders. It gets pretty hot with 45 people in a bus made for 24.

He let us take turns riding in the trailer until the highway patrol man stopped and talked to us.

Scoutmaster Keith is a neat guy. Don't worry, he is a good driver. In fact, he is teaching Jessie how to drive on the mountain roads where there isn't any cops. All we ever see up there are logging trucks.

This morning all of the guys were diving off the rocks and swimming out to the rapids. Scoutmaster Keith wouldn't let me because I can't swim, and Adam was afraid he would sink because of his cast, it's concrete because we didn't have any plaster, so he let us take the canoe out. It was great.

You can still see some of the trees under the water from the flood. Scoutmaster Keith isn't crabby like some scoutmasters. He didn't even get mad about the life jackets.

He has to spend a lot of time working on the bus so we are trying not to cause him any trouble. Guess what? We have all passed our first aid merit badges. When Andrew dived into the lake and cut his arm, we got to see just how a tourniquet works.

Steven and I threw up, but Scoutmaster Keith said it probably was just food poisoning from the leftover chicken. He said they got sick that way with food they ate in prison.

I'm so glad he got out and became our scoutmaster. He said he sure figured out how to get things done better while he was doing his time. By the way, what is a pedal-file?

I have to go now. We are going to town to mail our letters and buy some more beer and ammo.

Don't worry about anything.

Love,

Jimmy

(The Stan's Note: I got this in my inbox from my Dad and thought it was hilarious!)

I Stand Corrected!

I've been helping Alba write up her marketing materials for her new business as a makeup artist, hair stylist, and threading artist. (For some of the guys out there, threading is a hair removal technique that pulls hair out by the roots.)

Alba assured me that her technique of threading, unlike at Ziba and other places that do the same thing, would ensure that the person would not experience pain, nor redness, irritation, soreness, nor infection. She's very careful about disinfecting and using a topical numbing agent.

So...using my writing and marketing skills, I created a headline for her website that read...

My Unique Threading Technique
(Of Hair Removal) Results in
NO Pain...NO Redness...NO Irritation...
NO Soreness...and NO Infection...
GUARANTEED!

Skeptical? Discover it Yourself
Completely RISK FREE!

There. I was proud of myself. I thought I was done.

But then Alba says to me, "Why don't you try the threading yourself. That way you'll know what you're talking about when you write about it."

Well...I suppose that sounds like a reasonable proposition to me. (Thoughts of Mel Gibson in pantyhose come to mind.) I reluctantly agree.

Five minutes later:

OOOOWWWWWW!!!!! WHAT THE HELL!!!!!!! Why do women put themselves through this????? (Images of Steve Carell having his chest waxed come to mind.)

It was definitely NOT pain-free, even with the local anesthetic. So reluctantly, I was forced to change the headline to the somewhat weaker, but more accurate

My Unique Threading Technique
(Of Hair Removal) Results in
Very Little Redness, Irritation, or Soreness and
LESS Pain Than Ziba or Other Places,
GUARANTEED!

Skeptical? Discover it Yourself
Completely RISK FREE!

Well...Life of a marketer, I suppose. Her websites and corresponding sales letters are works in progress and continually evolving. But take a look, and let me know your comments...

www.ThreadingByAlba.com
www.MakeupByAlba.com
www.HairDesignByAlba.com

The Stan

The 21 Day Experiment

In order to fully understand what I'm doing here, allow me to elaborate on my thoughts about the nature of humans.

We, as humans, are more than animals. Evolutionists would disagree, and say we're nothing more than smart monkeys. We may be smart monkeys--we're certainly a type of animal. But we're more than just smart monkeys. We're human.

And as humans, we're multi-dimensional. We're made up of different "dimensions" if you will...

There's the emotional aspect. The mental aspect. The physical aspect. The spiritual aspect...and the relational aspect.

Modern scientists may argue that at the heart of all these areas is nothing more than chemical reactions or electrical impulses in the brain.

I can't argue with that.

At a micro (or nano or pico) level, there may be nothing more than chemical reactions and electrical impulses going on. But just as our bodies are more than bags of dust and water, we're more than the sum of all the chemical reactions and electrical impulses in our bodies. It's the classic case of the sum being greater than all the component parts.

So forgive me if these dimensions are unscientific. They're not scientific descriptions, but philosophical ones, designed to help explain the various aspects of what it means to be human.

So to be a well-balanced person means to be healthy and fit in all these areas:

1. To be physically fit and healthy.
2. To be mentally engaged, alert, and aware of your surroundings.
3. To be emotionally intelligent, well-adjusted, not hindered by past failures or disappointments.
4. To be spiritually healthy (I'm still learning and exploring what exactly that means).
5. To have healthy, positive relationships with those around us.

So how do you achieve the proper balance in all those areas? In my experience, I'd find that I would be working on one to the detriment of another. And no matter how hard I tried, I failed to keep all of these areas in proper balance.

So what to do?

Time. More specifically, the management of it. I believe the classic principles of time management can help us here. To work on each of these areas takes time. And everyone is allotted 24 hours in each day, eight of which are spent sleeping (if you know what's good for you)...which means you've got 16 hours to do everything else.

That's 16 hours to take care of business (hygiene, chores, work, etc.), and work on these areas. So what if we defined particular goals in each area, and scheduled time to work on each one. Just like you were scheduling classes, or practice time (as a musician or athlete), or work schedules.

That's what I spent a great deal of time with last Sunday. I identified goals in each area and came up with a daily schedule that would help me achieve those goals by working on each of them on a daily basis.

They're part of my schedule now. Just as I used to have a regular time that I practiced my trumpet everyday, now I have a regular time that I get up for exercise; a regular time for prayer, meditation, and bible study; regular time for studying other subjects that interest me; regular time for meals; regular time to go to bed so I can get up at that regular time the next day; etc., etc.

It's not easy. Especially for a musician used to getting up anytime I damn well feel like it. In fact, I believe the only way to succeed long term is to combine all my desire, will-power, and the creation of a new self-image as the kind of person who is disciplined enough to keep all my dimensions in balance...and focus it on this 21 Day Experiment.

Just 21 Days. I'm not telling myself I'll change forever. I'm telling myself "just 21 consecutive days without interruption until it becomes habit."

In other words, for the next 21 days, I'm going to be a well-balanced person and work on being fit and healthy in every dimension of human experience. What changes will I notice? Is 21 days long enough to see much change? Will I feel adapted enough to my new life that it will become a natural habit from then on forward? Will I feel any different? Will I begin to notice myself actually becoming this new person that I imagine myself to be?

Those are some of the questions I hope to answer within the next 21 Days. Today is the fifth day of my experiment and so far so good, though last night I wound up going to bed a bit early because I was really tired.

But I do feel better. The exercise certainly feels good. I feel productive in a way. I'm exploring what it means to have a relationship with God, and I notice certain changes in my demeanor and character. I feel more patient...and confident...and at peace. I haven't had trouble getting to sleep at night, though it's butt-hard to get my ass out of bed at 6:45 am!

I'll keep you posted as this experiment unfolds...

The Stan

The Importance of Self-Image

More than a desire is needed to master not just a subject or skill, but yourself. Yes...I believe that by being a master of all those things I mentioned in my last post means you have to master yourself. To take control.

But not forceful control.

Let me explain. Often when people decide to loose weight they "force" themselves to diet or exercise. They rely on willpower alone to get the job done. This works for awhile, but eventually, we tire of forcing ourselves to do something we don't naturally want to do. I've had it happen in my life numerous times. Not just with loosing extra flab, but with other things, too.

So the answer is not merely being disciplined to the point of being able to forcefully control yourself by the power of your will. Willpower alone does not result in longterm change. Admit it to yourself. How many times have you tried to change solely on the basis of willpower? How long did it work for you?

Something more is needed for permanent change. More than mere desire. More than strong willpower.

Maxwell Maltz, author of Psycho-Cybernetics (a book I HIGHLY recommend), explains that the root of the problem is not a lack of willpower, or a lack of desire to change, but a lack of a self-image that naturally incorporates the desired behavior.

For example, if you imagine yourself as someone who has no time to exercise, you're convinced that exercise is not fun, you have better things to do with your time, that exercise is to be avoided, or that it's a necessary evil, etc. Or if you appear in your mind's eye as an overweight person and are convinced that's what you naturally look like, then you'll BE overweight.

In other words, your self image is what determines your behavior. Your behavior determines who you are. Like I said in my post about that ridiculous book, "The Secret" (didn't see the film), you are who you think you are. Maxwell Maltz illustrates this beautifully in Psycho-Cybernetics.

On the other hand, say that you view yourself as an active, involved person. The kind of person who takes care of him(her)self, who eats right, who enjoys physical activity, who is naturally thin and fit...then you'll start naturally exhibiting the kind of behavior to support that self image. No "willpower" required. You just do it because those actions are congruent with who you believe yourself to be.

So the real root of change, then, is to change your self image. I always imagined that someday I'd master all those areas I mentioned in my last post. That has been my problem all along. I hadn't created a self-image that included mastery in those areas today. Right now. Not 10 years from now. It may be too late, then.

So I've decided to try an experiment. A 21-Day experiment. Maxwell Maltz says it takes 21 consecutive days to form a habit. After 21 consecutive days of doing anything, it will suddenly feel strange not to do it.

In the past, I've pretty much focused on one goal at a time. I felt this was the only way to get things done. But I believe I've been doing myself a disservice by thinking this way. We're all multi-dimensional beings. In order to be effective and well-balanced, it's important to have multiple goals we're simultaneously working toward and be able to effectively manage them.

I'll be discussing this 21-Day experiment in my next post.

The Stan

P.S. The image above is a self portrait by the famous Mexican artist, Frida Kahlo, who was considerably more attractive than this painting suggests. (She didn't have such a pronounced "unibrow" either.) But apparently, this is how Frida viewed herself. Many people have unhealthy self-images that make them to be less beautiful, less talented, less intelligent, less emotionally stable, less wealthy, less successful (I could go on) then they should be and have a right to be.

What Does It Mean To Be Great?

Continuing from my last post:

If you were to ask me that question before last Sunday, I would have likely answered (like many would, I suppose) that being great means to be extraordinary at something.

We talk about "great actors," "great musicians," "great salesmen," "great business leaders," "great writers." I could on and on.

To be great means to be great at something. Or to stress it differently, to be great at some thing.

But I no longer believe this to be the case. And here's why...

Often, in the pursuit of "greatness" at some thing, we wind up living massively unbalanced lives. I've seen it in my life. If I'm interested in a particular topic, I'll spend months, hours every day, reading everything I can get a hold of. On the one hand, this behavior is admirable. But on the other, it leads to an imbalanced life.

I wind up neglecting my body. Not exercising. Not eating healthy. I ignore the chores around the house. I don't balance my checkbook. In fact, I'll often not even want to think about anything else but what I'm studying, or practicing, or whatever. Clearly, that's not greatness.

It must be about more than just being great at some thing.

Consider all the "great" actors, or "great" musicians, or "great" artists that have (or had) massively screwed up lives because of sex, drugs, alcohol, or some other weakness or addiction. A few examples: Robert Downey, Jr.; Chris Farley; Judy Garland; Jimi Hendrix; John Coltrane; Elvis Presley; Charlie Parker...the list goes on and on.

Consider the "great" leaders who harbored a secret life. Bill Clinton; Richard Nixon (much vilified now, but was responsible for opening China to the West); Jim Baker (former televangelist); Ken Lay (of Enron fame)...again, there are many examples.

Clearly to be great at some thing, to be recognized by others for your accomplishments, to be a business, political, or spiritual leader, to be a public figure...those things in themselves do not make one "great" in the absolute sense of the word.

So what, then, does it mean to be great?

The conclusion I came to is that greatness includes someone who has not only mastered a skill or particular subject, but has a positive and lasting influence on those around him because...

• He has his life in proper balance.
  
• Has a healthy sense of himself and his place in the world.
  
• Is emotionally intelligent and stable.
  
• Maintains his physical health and appearance.
  
• Doesn't allow himself to be a slave to weaknesses or addictions.
  
• Is ethical in all his dealings.
  
• Doesn't neglect his spiritual side.
• Improves himself in some way on a daily basis.
• Is financially stable and independent.
• Is capable of influencing and persuading others without unethical manipulation in order to achieve great things.
  

How, then, does one manage to succeed in all those areas? How many people are there that actually fit all these criteria? Is it even possible? I can only imagine how effective someone who managed to succeed in all those areas would be!

Imagine, for example, if John Coltrane, rather than being a troubled soul, had been all of those things I just mentioned. Think of what he could have done for the world of jazz! For music as a whole! Think of the lives that could have been positively influenced and inspired! This is a whole new level of greatness. Above and beyond merely being great at some thing.

I want to be all those things. But wanting alone won't get me there. I've wanted to be all those things my whole life, yet at 32, my life is as unbalanced as it ever was!

Clearly, more is needed. The desire to be better, in itself, will get you nowhere. But "forcing" yourself to "try to do better" in those areas, doesn't work, either. I'll talk more about this in the next post...

The Stan

A Lesson in Personal Change

I went absolutely nowhere this last weekend. I didn't really do much of anything, either. But it was a fantastically productive weekend because of a few hours I spent in private thought on Sunday afternoon.

What I was thinking about, and the conclusions I came to, will be the subject of the next few posts.

When I was in college, my trumpet professor had a small piece of paper tacked on the bulletin board just outside his office that read, "Without change, there can be no improvement."

I don't remember who this quote was attributed to, but it has stuck with me all these years and I'll never forget it. Without any further elaboration, it's a powerful lesson.

So simple. Yet so profound.

I believe this phrase, which I think about nearly everyday, is part of the inspiration for me to try new and different things. As Matt Bingham told me recently, "The Stan, you're a man of ventures. Everyone else, when I ask them what they've been up to, say 'Oh...you know...same 'ole, same 'ole.' But you...you're always up to something!"

I can't help it. Without change, there is no improvement. My greatest fear is stagnation. Or worse, degeneration. Only the willingness to change, to try new things, to push yourself can you hope to become a better person.

The other day, I was reading the words of Igor Ledochowski, a well-known hypnotist and corporate consultant, when I came across a sentence that immediately struck me and will be with me for years to come:

"Great people become great because they got pushed--either by circumstances or by themselves--to keep growing on a daily basis."

Wow.

Did that ever hit home! "To keep growing on a daily basis." Not only is it important to change. It's important to change on a daily basis. Otherwise, it's too easy to become stagnant. Too easy to become lazy and complacent.

So what does it mean to be a "great person?" And how, exactly, do you become one?

This is what we'll discuss in the next few posts.

The Stan

The Total Perspective Vortex

The "Total Perspective Vortex" is the creation of Douglas Adams, author of "The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

Here's how it works: you're placed inside of this machine (called the "Total Perspective Vortex"), which forces upon you a complete and total perspective of the entire universe. It is designed as a punishment for the arrogant because they realize in a traumatic way how insignificant they are in relation to the entire universe. Everyone who enters the Total Perspective Vortex goes completely bonkers.

Here's a sample of what one small part of the Total Perspective Vortex might look like:



The rest can be found here: The Scale of the Universe.

Influence and Mind Control

Damn. It's been almost a week since my last post.

Not much has changed in the last week. Still trying to get these brass band auditions together, and hoping we get a good turnout.

Other than that, I started reading Robert Cialdini's classic book "Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion." Fascinating stuff. I've been particularly interested in influence and persuasion lately. I'll give a report later.

In the meantime, check out this clip from Darren Brown. He has a show on the Sci-Fi Channel. This guy is an expert at reading people and using subliminal messages to subconsciously communicate with, control, or fool people. Fascinating. In some cases, I can see what he's doing. In others...just bazaar (like the phantom limb experiments where the person closes their eyes and can actually "feel" and correctly guess objects placed in the phantom hand.)

Can you see what he's doing here?

Building a Brass Band

Putting a brass band together is a HELL of a lot of work! What was I thinking? What did I think I was getting myself into?

It's like a regular part-time job. Getting 30 members together is only a small fraction of the work involved. And fortunately, I have people to help with that.

But still, it's up to me to organize the auditions, promote them online (I have people spreading the word in all the area university music departments), schedule audition times, post the information on the website, etc., etc.

I'm the webmaster, the President, the marketer and promoter, the encourager, the man with the whip when things don't get done (not that I'm heavy-handed, but I like to keep things moving.)

I'm having to find and secure the facilities for rehearsals and performances, and we're still not done. We may have to find a new facility for the Christmas concert. We'll definitely need a new rehearsal facility soon, because we need access to decent percussion equipment, and that's sadly lacking at the Torrance Salvation Army corps.

I need to find a place for percussion auditions and successfully recruit at least three percussionists to the band, which is difficult to do because percussionists whine more than anyone about wanting to get paid. Don't blame them, but still...

Our budget is roughly equivalent to a 10-year-old's piggy bank. I supplement whatever I can, but I don't make a lot of money. This is a bootstrap operation, so we have to be careful about how money gets spent. That means all marketing and promotion has to be done for free, or some other arrangement worked out.

Speaking of marketing and promotion, it's now on my shoulders to fill up a 1,481 seat hall with as many asses as will fit in there...And hopefully there are wallets with cash between those asses and the 1,481 seats. That remains to be seen.

Not that it's hopeless. Just a hell of a lot of work. And it's work that will never pay me a dime. So sometimes I ask myself why the hell am I spending all this time and effort for this?

I can only say for the sheer love of brass bands. I want to see a regular kick-ass brass band here in the L.A. area if I have to be the one to see to it. If it's me that has to be relentlessly recruiting, promoting, marketing, spieling, whatever...then so be it. There WILL be a kick-ass brass band here in the L.A. area, and it WILL be a permanent fixture here.

People will speak of the L.A. Phil, the Long Beach Municipal Band (a professional kick-ass wind ensemble), and the L.A. Metropolitan Brass Band all in the same breath.

I told myself I wouldn't get involved in any "volunteer" work until I made my fortune. But I just can't help myself. I just love music too much, and this particular dream is too dear to just let it fade away.

There are glory days ahead for the L.A. Metro Brass!

The Stan

Look What I Found!

Snagged this off an old post from Matt & Shelley's Blog. Shelley game nights used to be so much fun!
I'll never forget some of those hilarious Balderdash moments. None of us cared about points. All we wanted was to hear the next ridiculous movie plot...or people's suggestions at what certain acronyms stood for...or "interesting" definitions of unusual words.

But Shelley game nights aren't the same without Shell C. and Matt B. And most of the rest of the gang have moved out of town, too. All except me and Michelle and Mateo.

From left to right starting with Shelley in yellow: Shelley, Myev, Michelle & Mateo, Heidi, Your's Truly, and Geoff and Emily (who have been very negligent in updating their blog).

Maybe I should renew the tradition with a new generation of Balderdash nights! That would be a hell of a lot of fun!

Relating to an Invisible God, Part II

I've been thinking about this issue of relating to an invisible God for the last week or so. This whole thought process was spawned a week ago yesterday, as I sat at a round table in a meeting to discuss forming small groups at church.

I'm mildly interested in participating in a small church group of other people around my age, but I was mostly there for the pizza. At one point, we had an "exercise" with the other people at the table, and one of the questions was "How has your relationship with God grown over the years."

Well, I couldn't answer that question. I can't say it's "grown" at all. I'm still confused about how this is supposed to be a "relationship" as I understand the term. I'm honest in my reply. I've got nothing to hide.

As I think about this issue more, it occurs to me that I may have missed something here. (Stay with me as I work this out.)

Because God is infinite, he is not bound by a physical form...he's entirely "not physical." I'm avoiding the use of the word "spiritual" here, because my mind can't wrap itself around what exactly that means. The word "spiritual" has taken on many connotations. Maybe "not physical" is the simplest and best definition of the word "spiritual" and we should just leave it at that.

So because God is not in physical form, then if we were to have a relationship with Him, it would have to be fundamentally different from the kind of relationships we're used to having with physical people.

There would be no audible voice. No physical manifestation. It would be entirely "not physical."

I'm not saying God is not capable of producing an audible voice, or some kind of avatar, but it would certainly be out of the norm, as our experiences tell us--although the Bible does relate certain instances where this happened. But if I were to hear of a particular occurrence, I would be extremely skeptical...

Ockham's razor: a simpler explanation is that someone is making it up, imagining it, is mentally ill, or suffering a hallucination or wishful thinking. All such reports would have to be taken with a grain of salt because they are unprovable and unverifiable.

Therefore, I must immediately reject any claim of "God spoke to me, and...blah, blah, blah," unless the statement contained information that the speaker could not possibly know and that information was verifiable.

So...without an audible voice, or a physical manifestation, how would you know if God were trying to speak to you? (Does God even need to speak to us? Do we necessarily need God to speak to us--other than what's already in the Bible?)

So accepting that a relationship with God would be fundamentally different from anything we've known based on our physical experience, then I imagine it would be a pretty difficult and nebulous thing to define what exactly that relationship would be like.

Our experience is purely physical. God is "not physical." What does "not physical" mean? How can I relate to someone that is "not physical," since I am a physical being and all of my experiences are in the physical world?"

So again, I've circled back to the original problem: how do you relate to a "not physical" God? Certainly God would not be God if he were bound by a physical form. Yet because he is God, there is an immense gap between our experiences and His...between what we know and what He knows...between our senses and His.

In fact, in order to communicate with a "not physical" being, we would need an extra sense. Our five senses are tuned into the physical world. We would need a "sixth sense" that is tuned to a "not physical" world.

Even if God were to attempt to speak to us using the physical world, I would imagine that we would still need the "sixth sense" to recognize that it is, in fact, God trying to speak to us. Otherwise, we may not even recognize it--or we may attribute it to something else.

In any case, I've been reminded that prayer is certainly biblical. Jesus even gave us a blueprint for it in the form of the Lord's prayer. So that means we should pray, even if there is no "return message."

You Gotta Love Cats!

I'm a dog person, but cats do have their uses from time to time...

Jehovah's Witnesses Come A Callin'

I was lying on the couch this morning, about to have my neck cracked by Alba (which feels awesome, by the way), when I heard a knock on the screen door. I thought it was my next door neighbor, Jenny, but when I turned to look toward the door, there was no one there.

Whoever it was, I was sure they didn't know us, because instead of peaking through the screen door like Jenny would have done, or remaining conspicuously in front of it, they stood off to the side so I couldn't see who was there.

Annoyed, I got up to answer the door and two men were standing there, impeccably dressed and groomed like a couple of young congressional interns.

"Does anyone here speak Spanish?" one of them asked.

Yep...they're promoting some political agenda, I thought.

"Well...Alba does--" and I turn around hoping to pawn them off on Alba so I wouldn't have to be the rude one and shoo them away.

But Alba was quick on the uptake: "I'll be in the shower," she said, and hurried to the bathroom.

Unfazed, the man on the left continued: "Well, we're here with the Jehovah's Witnesses...." and he continued into his spiel about cars and engineers and how engineers are the best people to tell you about the cars, and blah, blah, blah.

Dammit, I should have known. Their blue shirts fooled me. They were in disguise. Not the usual arm-length, button-up white shirts and ties. These were blue. I could see now the black Bibles in their left hands, and a few tracts sticking out of one of the outside pockets.

For a moment, I was worried he would pull one out and start talking about a cartoon drawing with lions laying in fields and people building a house in the background, while others were harvesting a crop. "Doesn't that look idealic?" he would say. And "Wouldn't you like to live like this?"

Then I would be forced to say "Hell, no! That looks like too much work to me! Who wants to spend eternity tilling the fields and building log cabins?" But he didn't pull out a tract. He went on talking about how if God was the engineer of us, then wouldn't he be the best person to tell us everything we need to know about ourselves?

Meanwhile, I'm holding the screen door open, and several flies were taking full advantage of the situation and making a bee line for the kitchen counter and the remains of my breakfast salad, and the only thing I can think of is how the hell can I get rid of these guys without being overly rude?

Why am I so damn polite? They interrupted my day, not the other way around!

Well, I couldn't let this go on long, and by this time, the guy was trying to indoctrinate me about how God told us we would live forever right here on this earth. Don't know how that would happen, but the last thing I wanted to do was have a philosophical argument with an indoctrinated Jehovah's Witness.

So I simply said, "Well, I've read the Bible and I know what it says, and I'm not really interested in anything you have to offer."

They were polite. One was the talker, the other the listener. Maybe he was a trainee, and the talker was showing him the ropes. But they left and proceeded to try and convert Jenny next door.

When Alba got out of the shower, she told me the story of Adriana upstairs, who's from Columbia and bi-lingual. When the Jehovah's Witnesses knocked on her door one time, she tried to fake them out:

"Lo siento, pero no hablo Engles! Yo no hablo Engles!"

Well, the Jehovah's Gringo was prepared: "Oh, okay. Soy de Jehovah's Witness y...."

Man, they're prepared for everything these days. Maybe I'll make up some language next time to fool them:

"Blo hopper be dop dang row. Be bop yo bam. He-n-do-bop." And I'll just keep talking in scat, looking confused, until they give up and walk away!

The New FireFox

I hear FireFox is thinking about changing their logo...

So THAT's what that fox was up to!

Damn Cell Phones...

I think cell phones are ruining a whole generation of Americans. Can't anyone concentrate on anything these day? Can't you have conversation, or hold a meeting, or watch a damn movie for Christ's sake without someone feeling compelled to answer their damn phone? It's times like those I wish I were Darth Vader...

Relating to an Invisible God

This will be the very first post I've ever written about my spiritual life. I'm gonna be completely honest here, even though I know I'll probably be getting all kinds of "attempted conversion" comments on here.

The thing is, I'm not really a spiritual person. I guess I don't really understand exactly what it means to be spiritual. I grew up in church. My dad's a pastor now. I've read the bible, and still read it occasionally. But what exactly does it mean to be spiritual, or to have a relationship with God?

I used to pray and read the bible often. I used to feel that God talked to me. But then I realized that God wasn't actually talking to me at all. It was my own imagination and wishful thinking.

Then I figured if I, as a reasonably intelligent person, can be fooled into thinking God talks to me, can't just about anyone be fooled into the same?

It strikes me that prayer is pretty much a one-way conversation. How is that a relationship? All the relationships--the real relationships--I've had have been with real people. People I can see, feel, hear, interact with. That's what having a relationship is all about. Interaction.

I'm not doubting God's existence here. I have no doubt that God exists. My doubts have to do with whether we can actually have a real relationship with him the way modern Christians believe.

How do you have a relationship with an invisible God? Of course, I see God in everything around me. Nature itself is a virtuosic display of the power and creativity of an ultra-powerful God. But it's like seeing a painting by Picasso. Of course I can see his work. I can marvel at it. I can appreciate it. It can be all the proof I need that Picasso did (or does) indeed exist. I can even, perhaps, draw conclusions about some of Picasso's personality traits. But does that mean I actually know Picasso?

God is not only invisible, his voice is silent.

Well..."spiritual" people will talk about the still, small voice and brag about how God speaks to them all the time. But usually people who are so sure God speaks to them are in dire need of a visit to some men in white coats.

It's been my experience that people who talk that way are people who just like to sound spiritual and have probably never heard God's voice any clearer than I have.

I know people who fret about "God's will" for their life. And they pray and fast and read the bible searching for the answer as to whether they should buy the Honda Civic or the Toyota Corolla.

I just don't understand it. As my creator, didn't God give me free will to decide things for myself? Didn't he give me a brain and arms and legs so I can think up a plan and execute it on my own?

I marvel about people who "seek God's will." How the hell can you possibly know if God wants you to move to such and such a place or choose such and such a career if he doesn't have a voice to tell you? People often rely on "signs" or "confirmations." I think people just read too much into coincidences.

Or what about "relying on God?" What does that mean? When I hear people talking about "relying on God," I always think of this old joke...

A man sits on the roof of his house as the flood waters rage around him. A man in a boat shows up and yells "Jump in! I'll get you outta here!"

"No, it's okay!" The man on the roof replies. "God told me he was going to save me!" So he refuses to get in the boat and stays on his roof while the waters continue to rise.

Then another boat comes along, but the man once again refuses saying, "God told me he was going to save me!" The waters continue to rise, and the man is at the very peak of his rooftop, the water lapping at his ankles.

Then a helicopter materializes overhead. The rescue guard is lowering down the basket to snag the man from the roof. But again, the man refuses: "God will save me!"

Finally, the waters cover the entire house, and the man is washed away. He drowns in the raging waters and his last thought is a bitter one: "Why didn't God save me?"

So as the man's spirit appears before God, he questions Him: "Lord, why didn't you save me. I though you told me you'd save me from the flood?"

And God answers: "Well, my child. I sent you two boats and a helicopter, what more did you want?"

This is the image I get in my mind every time someone talks about "relying on God." God gave me a brain. And arms and legs. God wants me to use them, I think. If I were the man on the roof, I'd hope for a boat or helicopter, but I'd be tearing up the damn roof trying to build a raft, just in case none came.

The most successful people in the world are people of action. They don't sit around waiting for God to do something. They take action themselves and make something happen. That's me. I'm a "doer," I think.

I don't pray very often. It's not that I don't believe God hears me. It's just that I can't hear what he's saying to me. How is that fulfilling? How does that make me into a better person? How is that a relationship?

There's one thing that strikes me about the bible: the central theme of love. Jesus said the greatest commandment was to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength." The second one is like it: "Love your neighbor as yourself."

When Jesus asked Peter, "Peter, do you love me?" And Peter said yes, then Jesus responded "Then take care of my sheep." Taking care of God's people is love. Loving God is loving others. Loving others is loving God. Maybe that's what having a relationship with God is all about.

Simply loving those that God loves. But loving in a real, practical way that enriches others' lives. Since a real relationship can only happen with real people...and the bible tells us God lives in those who love him, and that "they will know you're my disciples because of your love for one another," then doesn't it stand to reason that maybe a relationship with God is not really about locking yourself in a room and having a one-way conversation every morning, but about simply having relationships with those who profess to love him?

I'm curious, my friends, what your thoughts are on this.

The Stan

My Weekend Adventure Complete with UFOs...

Where shall I start?

Matt & Shelley, my good friends who decided to skip town a year ago, are back for a 10 day visit. So Alba & I went over to Shelley's Auntie Anne's house--which happens to be where my blog photo was taken somewhere around 12:00 am January 1, 2006.

It was a great party. Heidi was also back, fresh from Spain with her Spanish boyfriend "Lolo," and her nice Mediterranean surfer's tan! (Damn, Heidi!)

God, I've missed Matt B. & Shell C. L.A. is just not the same without them. But at least we can pretend it's just like old times for a few days.

I believe a congratulations are in order for Matt B., a new uncle as of Sunday morning...and the rest of the Bingham clan who've just added one to their number.

Sunday, I was back at the Salvation Army. Again, just like old times. I think I'll start going back more often.

Sunday afternoon, Steve, Abel & I headed over to Ruben's posh house over in Yorba Linda to talk brass band business.

Then, it was off to the top of a parking garage in Santa Monica to watch the Perseus meteor shower with Alba, Steve, & Abel until 4:00 am. A bit of a disappointment after that spectacular Leonid shower back in 2001, I believe it was. Damn, I froze my ass off for that one, but it was worth it!

Last night wasn't too bad, though. We didn't see much because we were only maybe a hundred feet above sea level and still in the L.A. basin. You can only get semi-dark skies directly overhead, so you could only see the brighter ones. I didn't feel like driving the two hours to Mt. Pinos.

But we took a look at the Andromeda Galaxy, the Orion Nebula, and the Pleiades Star Cluster through my trusty 10X50 binoculars. Plus, there were a flew flyovers from some extremely fast-moving and completely silent military aircraft.

At least I assume they were military. They looked sort of like planes. They were kind of a brownish-red, vaguely shaped like an airplane, flying low enough to see them without lights and make out a shape, made no noise whatsoever, and were extremely fast. Kind of weird.

Then, while I was off taking a piss in the commercial landscaping next door, Alba, Steve, & Abel reported seeing a UFO that suddenly changed direction at a 90 degree angle twice. Apparently, it was too high to make out a shape--only a dim light. I think it must of been meteors that happened to coincide in such a way as to appear like it was one object, as unlikely as that would be.

But remember Ockham's razor: The simplest and most likely explanation rules. Either we have some pretty freaky technology that's being tested out in the skies above Southern California, we have otherworldly visitors performing the alien equivalent of "the streak" just to freak us out, or it was some natural phenomenon. Natural phenomenon is the simplest and most likely explanation...if not as exciting.

So as I write this, middle of the afternoon on Monday, I'm pumped up on a bottle of Frappucino from 7-11. Still feel tired, though. But when do you ever end an adventure feeling rested and raring to go? If that were the case, it would disqualify as an "adventure!"

The Stan

Drum Corps International...

Sometimes I think I should allow my blog entries to "age" a day or so before I post them. Yesterday's seems just a little bit pathetic in retrospect.

I certainly had no right to feel anything about hearing of Marci getting married and having a baby. But we have no control our gut reactions. We have limited control over our emotions. It's the choices we make, however, that we have complete control over.

I'm reasonably happy with all the decisions that have led me to where I am today. I've lived my life--for the most part--with a clear conscience. And although I have a few lingering regrets, it's not in my nature to dwell on them or allow myself to become embittered by them.

Life's too short. And life does move on.

I'm happy to report that the "knot in my stomach" is no longer bothering me. Maybe it was because I talked to my friend Sal about this yesterday. Sal is a year older than I am and has probably dated more women than I've ever even met in my entire life!

As the dating expert--certainly no relationship expert--he informs me that I committed one of the cardinal sins of dating: never get back in contact with an ex.

Silly me...I didn't know that rule.

But then I can't even claim Marci as an ex. It's a special case. We merely had an unclassifiable long distance..."thing"...that never really developed into a real relationship. My decision to "end" it was the right one, I'm sure. Which makes yesterday's post and my gut reactions all the more silly in retrospect.

Whatever. Time for me to stop being a girl about this thing.

Anyway, in other news...

I went to the DCI (Drum Corps International) Quarterfinals at the Rose Bowl yesterday. I've never seen a drum & bugle corps perform live so I was looking forward to seeing some of the best corps in the world perform. It was a LONG show and at first I was disappointed. But then I noticed that each corps seemed to outperform the one before it. They kept getting better and better so that by the time the last third of the 8 hour show rolled around, each band was spectacular.

The most memorable were the Vanguard from Santa Clarita, CA (just up the 5 freeway from L.A.), Caroline Crown, and of course, the Blue Devils from Concord, CA (which is up in the bay area.) One band--can't remember which--did a great show based on Stravinsky's Firebird. Another did Shostokovich's Scherzo, from one of his symphonies (can't remember which).

The better bands could really produce the sound and fill up the stadium with just 50-60 brass musicians. Amazing. Of course, actually being in tune really helps you out with that. You don't have to work as hard.

All in all a great show.

Then it was off to Hooters under the presumption that we were there for beer and appetizers.

Fortunes and Old Friends

Okay...time to post again. I've written up a "travel log" of my day trip last Sunday, but I'm not going to post that just yet.

I'm in kind of a strange mood today.

Two weeks ago, I opened a fortune cookie that read "you will reconnect with someone from your past." I never take stock in fast-food fortunes, and I usually forget them shortly afterward. But for some reason this one stuck in my mind.

Perhaps it was a real fortune this time, unlike all those other times where I was promised wealth, and success, and far away travels, and prestige, and great honors, etc. I guess they're allowed to get it right every now and then...

Because as it turns out, in the last two weeks, I've reconnected with several people I haven't seen or heard from in years. Partly because of MySpace. And partly just...who knows....Just out the blue, people calling me or emailing me.

For example, just the other day, my long lost cousin Michelle "You talkin' to me" Baker calls me on my cell phone. I was convinced it was my sister and I was surprised to actually have my sister call me. But I was even more surprised when I realized it was Michelle! It's uncanny how much they sound alike.

Michelle lives in San Antonio, has a dog, works in a bank as a fraud detector, owns her own house, has blond hair now instead of brown, and is still single but seriously dating a guy named Dave.

On MySpace, during my year and a half hiatus, I had been contacted by several "long lost" friends and acquaintances, including a good friend of mine who goes all the way back to our dorky high school days.

Andy is married now, to a woman 13 years his senior (though quite attractive), still into martial arts, and...I don't know much else because he hasn't replied to my reply yet. This is the guy who taught me scuba diving.

Then there is the friend from "back home"--I suppose there are several "back homes" for me, but this one happens to be Springfarm, MO. Can I say "Springfarm?" For some reason I feel I can't call it that if I don't live there any more. Like it somehow becomes less "affectionate," and more "derogatory," even though I used to say that all the time, my tone dripping with derogatoriness. (I love making up words!) Perhaps by moving away, I've given up the right to insult Springfield.

Anyway, I get this email out of the blue from a friend I haven't heard from in years, who happens to be the mother of a girl I used to be crazy about. Almost literally crazy. And after talking to her over the phone I find out that this girl I used to be crazy about is married and about to have a little girl.

I try very hard to take the news nonchalantly. "Really? Good for her." But at the same time, there's this knot in my stomach and I feel...Jealous?...Broken hearted?...Betrayed?...I don't know. I have no idea what I'm feeling, I've just got this knot in my stomach. (Maybe it was just gas?)

Anyway, life moves on.

Then yesterday, I found out about this cool feature on MySpace that will read your Gmail address book to search for friends who have a MySpace page registered. There was a whole slew of names, including Rita--the mother of the girl I was crazy about--who had just emailed me last week.

So I check out her MySpace page, and right there in her top eight is Mrs. Sherman, a.k.a. "The girl I used to be crazy about." Click Mrs. Sherman, check out her photos...knot comes back. Damn.

I thought I got rid of that knot over three frickin' years ago. Anyway, I didn't want to be a cyber stalker, so I figured I should at least send her quick note to congratulate her on her wedding and upcoming child.

So I go home, sit down for dinner with Alba. Bam--phone rings. Mrs. Sherman. Awkward moment.

Not sure what to say...Alba's sitting right there...I'm wondering how she got my number, though I suppose it's no great secret...more awkwardness--I can't even remember what I said, but it was a short conversation.

But that damned knot is right there! It was there all last night. This morning. And as I write this post this very moment.

But...life moves on.

The Stan

My MySpace Space

Well, I've been locked out of my MySpace account for ages. Like a year and a half.

And true to my usual form, I've just lately gotten around to contacting MySpace about getting back in. Here's what happened...

My good friends Matt & Shelley decided to create a "fake" MySpace account in my name and pretend to be me for a few weeks. Wouldn't have been so bad if they hadn't made me say some really gay and dumb things, then add a whole bunch of people I knew as friends.

Anyway, so M&S signed me up with a fake email address (thestan@yahoo.com), which I've never owned, but somebody does. I imagine it would have been theoretically possible for this person to assume my identity, but fortunately it never happened.

Then they made up a password which I've long since forgotten. This was like three years ago. And my computer had my login saved in its memory. But...like computers so often do...my computer bit the dust. Choked on it. Perhaps shorted itself out on it.

Whatever happened, that was the end of my MySpace days for about a year and a half.

Until today.

The other day, I contacted MySpace about getting access to my account. But to be honest, I wasn't all that hopeful. No email address. No password. No entre.

But they told me that if I took a photo of myself holding up a sign with my MySpace friend ID, they would let me in.

So I go over to Abel's house to have him take my photo. And it just so happens that Sal and Steve happen to be hanging around, too. (Possibly invited by Abel for the special occasion.) They were quite amused by my plight, and you can see a snapshot of their antics on my MySpace photo album. (Yes, MySpace let me back in):

www.myspace.com/jaarons

I take it you know how to get to the photo section. Everybody and their dog and their dog's chew toy is on MySpace these days.

So I suppose it's about time I get back on, myself. I'm afraid I have a few long-neglected MySpace friends waiting for me...

Famous Tuba Players

I love tuba players. They're usually the dorks of the band, and that's saying something. Tuba players usually have sense of humor and don't take themselves as seriously as the rest of the brass players.

That's why I like them so much. Maybe I should have been a tuba player, myself. I never really got the hang of the whole trumpet player ego thing.

But anyway, I was relaxing with a few beers the other day with my friend Abel, my tuba playing friend, when he saw fit to inform me of famous tuba players past and present. He even gave me the photo evidence to prove it.

I was impressed. In fact, I believe many of you will recognize some of these closet tubists:















In other news, the L.A. Metropolitan Brass Band had their first concert in over a year yesterday. As usual, it was a big hit with the crowd, and it was a decent one, too. We expect to have two more concerts this year: a fall concert and a Christmas concert.

I didn't play this time around. Too little time to practice and get in shape. So I worked the audience collecting names and email addresses. I don't want any repeats of our first concert where the band was bigger than the audience!

The Stan

H2ommmm Water: Vibration Hydration!

I've been studying marketing for over a year now, and as my die-hard readers know, I work as a marketing director for a small company in Torrance. So when I see a site like www.h2omwater.com, there are two sides of myself looking at this.

The first side is the educated, skeptical side who has more than a layman's understanding of science. The side that thinks crystal-hugging, magnet-loving, new-age hippies are full of sh*t.

But then there's the marketer in me who appreciates good marketing.

So let's consider H2om water. For the uninitiated, that's pronounced "H 2 Ommmm." Here's a bit of copy straight from their website:

Intention is Everything

H2Om Water with Intention is the world’s first interactive natural spring water. Infused with the power of positive energy through words, music, colors, symbols and you.

Our vision for H2Om is to spread positive energy, inspire people to visualize amazing possibilities in their lives, and carry those vibrations throughout the world.

But wait! There's more...

As an added bonus, once our water is in the bottle, we play a restorative compositions [sic] of music, frequencies, and spoken word to the water.

Isn't that nice? I get to pay $1.50 per 16 ounce bottle (if I buy it in a 24-bottle case, that is)--plus shipping--so I can get water that's been sung at.

You see, that's important because, as H2Om tells me, "Recent scientific studies have proven that water is receptive. It retains and reflects the vibratory energy it is exposed to." (Don't ask me what that means.) "Whether it be words, thoughts, or music, water receives these vibrations and illustrates them under magnification." (Don't ask me what that means, either.) "Based on these principles, H2Om water was created." (There. Clear as mud.)

Check out their taglines:
"A positive affirmation in every bottle. Think it while you drink it!"

When I read something this hilarious, I can't even adequately comment on it because it carries its own humor. Nothing I can possibly say would make it any funnier and more ridiculous than it already is. (For a good laugh, read through their copy.)

So let's talk about the marketing aspect.

There is a certain segment of the population that eats (drinks) this stuff up. Those very same crystal-hugging neo-hippies I mentioned earlier. (I think I just coined a word: "neo-hippies.")

And because of this segment, this is terrific marketing! They're creating a solid unique selling proposition (USP) that sets itself apart from every other commodity water-bottler out there. And because of that, they can charge a premium to gullible morons.

They've picked their target market. They're certainly not all things to all people. They've chosen a message and their market and have perfectly matched that message to their market.

It's genius. It's the ultimate snake-oil sales pitch. And I LOVE IT!

Pure genius. Go buy some H2Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

The Stan

The Resident Peach Hog

Alba is a peach hog! I bought 5-pounds of peaches from the Farmer's Market--maybe 20 peaches, or so, of which I've had MAYBE five.

I came home for lunch today hoping to have a nice juicy peach, because I knew there were at least four left, but no. Not a single one left. Nada. Zilch. Zip. Zerooooo.

WTF!!

I bought those Tuesday morning to last all week! Less than two days later they are ALL GONE!

Dammit! And I thought I went overboard buying this huge bag of peaches.

Why am I all pissed off about peaches?

I don't know. Maybe it's because they're one of my favorite fruits. But when it comes to fruit of any kind, Alba is like a vacuum hose, sucking up everything in sight.

The only fruit that lasts awhile are apples, and I'm not overly fond of apples. For me, it's peaches, strawberries, watermelon, and grapefruit--precisely what disappears faster than a strip of bacon down a dog's gullet.

Next time, I'm going to buy a frickin' truckload of those damn peaches. That way I can still have a frickin' peach two days later when Alba's wolfing them down 10 at a time!

The Stan

You Know You're Going Bald When...

You know you're going bald when you're standing outside at the Farmer's Market waiting for your Loma Saltado from the Happy Inka stand, and you notice the unusual warmth--searing heat, more like it--of the sun beaming down on the top of your head, and you just know your scalp is getting sunburned.

...when you have to comb your hair forward to help cover up the "M" of your receding hairline.

...when you visit your family for the first time in three years and the first thing out of their mouths is "What happened to your hair?"

...when your dad, your dad's dad, your mom's dad, and all her brothers are BALD!!!

...when you avoid putting any kind of product in your hair because every time you do, your hands come out looking like monkey palms.

...when you start to wonder if Rogaine would work for you.

...when you start seriously considering Rogaine.

...when you start actively looking for ways to reverse hair loss.

...when you discover that cayenne pepper soaked in vodka for two months is a natural remedy for reversing hair growth.

...when you actually go to the store to buy cayenne pepper (not as a seasoning) and vodka (not to drink).

...when you actually put the cayenne pepper into a jar of vodka and place it on your kitchen counter.

...when you have a countdown calendar for when the vodka-cayenne pepper solution is ready.

...when you watch its progress day by day as the vodka gradually turns pink and the excess cayenne pepper settles to the bottom.

...when you daydream of visiting your family again, and how the first thing out of their fat mouths will be "My, what big hair you have!"

...when you actually blog about losing hair.

Well...some of these are true (like the Farmer's Market Moment of Revelation). Vodka and cayenne pepper is actually supposed to work because it cleans out your pores, or something. (Ole Jay Kordich, the juice man, told me about that one.)

It's hopeless, I'm sure. I'll be Dr. Baldstan before too long.

Dr. Soon-to-be-Baldstan