I know it sounds cheesy, but this song huge a big influence on my life.


I know the lyrics are rather overstated, but it genuinely ignited my interest in leaving Port Huron. I've been in Detroit for about 2 years now and it's the time of the year when I wear a lot of black turtlenecks and mope around. I guess I've returned to this song in the hopes that I'll remember why I came down here.

( Lyrics here )

1. Ellen and I going to Seattle.
2. My Nephew being born
3. Rothbury music festival.
4. Seeing radiohead in Cleveland.

so I got in to work around 2 today, I had been in a training in Farmington this morning and I was already pretty frazzled (training consists of explaining how to use AT&T phones to your colleagues for a couple of hours and starts at 8:30 AM).

I had heard about "a crazy guy" that had made a scene at my store on Saturday. Apparently he had a phone with a broken screen and wanted to return it and was told he can't. Just for the record : the screens don't just break on their own, something has to hit it or puncture it. Extreme cold can do it too, but that is unlikely in the time of year.

I was on hold with IT support when a gentlemen walked in and asked to speak with a manager. My boss it on vacation and they haven't filled the assistant manager spot yet *ahem*; so I told him that I was happy to help him. He seemed really confused when I told him that no one was really "in charge". It's a retail environment and most day to day operations don't need much oversight.

He pulls out a phone with a cracked screen, and I immediately knew that he was the guy that my co-workers warned me about. I let him say his tell his side of the story hoping it would make him feel at least validated. I told him that we can't return the phone, it was broken and that he was responsible for it. I asked him for insurance and he did that "I'm trying to come across as an arrogant prick" laugh.

He demanded that I explain to him how his screen got broken. I told him that I have no idea, that it doesn't matter how it got broken and even if I could or couldn't explain it the situation wouldn't change in any meaningful way.

I tried to make the analogy that if I'm like a mechanic at a car dealer who has been presented a vehicle with a large dent in it. I may not be able to know what exactly happened to the car, but I can plainly see that some force acted on it and it broke.

He did the rational thing and began cursing loudly and I told him to calm down or he'll be asked to leave. He then decided to forgo calming down part....

He shouted some more and I told him that he needs to leave. He winds up and chucks the phone at me, I dodge it but he manages to throw the box at me as well. I deflect the box with my hand, look him in the eye and say in a stern voice "OUT!".

He manages to pick the phone up and starts throwing it against the floor, smashing it into many pieces while he continues to shout obscenities at me. I repeat my new mantra to him: OUT!

He lunges for the door and my coworker tries to block him from leaving (I have no idea why). People are staring, my store is loaded with customers and almost the whole staff. I tell my coworker to get him out of the store just as he is shoved and the customer takes a swing at him.

Luckily it doesn't connect and he storms out, getting in his car and almost hitting a pedestrian and he leaves the parking lot. I look over and see another coworker on the phone, she's talking to the police department.

I stayed at the store for another hour talking to the police, my area manager and company asset protection. I was rather shaken by this whole thing and was told to go home early. The police asked if I wanted to press charges and I said that I wanted to.

I was shaking in sheer anger and frustration. I got home and mixed up a dry martini with top shelf gin and cooled off.

What the fuck is wrong with people?!? Is this what we've come to?

It's my birthday and I'll do what I want to
Fuck you it's my birthday.
A special holiday only for me, so do what I say,
it's my party, I'll make you cry if I want to...or leave.
Fuck you, it's not your birthday, so do what I say.

For 24 hours your wishing me well
364 days I'm in hell, Oh well.
Happy Birthday to me.

alone on my Birthday,
I'm going to Denny's 10 times today
No Tip! it's my birthday, so do what I say
Thanks mom didn't have an abortion,
Or my birthday wouldn't be today.
But I guess it's my good fortune,
my birthday's today. Okay.

For 24 hours your wishing me well
364 days I'm in hell, Oh well.
Happy Birthday to me.

Happy Birthday to me, Spank Me!
Oh well, Happy Birthday to me,
I can't believe you forgot my birthday
it's my birthday and you're wrecking it
now it's just like any other day
you didn't do what I say

How could you forget my birthday?
That's really immature
Fuck you for forgetting my birthday
you didn't do what I say

24 hours no wishing well
now 365 days I'm in Hell, Oh well.
Happy Birthday to me.

So yesterday I went to work at 7:30 AM and didn't leave until 10PM thanks to the iPhone iMadness. My store had a long line of iNuts standing on our iSidewalk starting at 10 o'clock in the evening the iDay before.

The worst part is the work emails that ask me things like "are you iReady for iDay 2.0?!?". I seriously don't think I can handle the excessive use of this iShit much longer. It makes me want to blow my iBrains all over the iWall. But hey, we got new t-shirts.

I got home last night, slammed a beer, watched Batman cartoons (you read that correctly) and went to bed. This morning I was awakened by Ellen's cell phone ringing. Her grandfather died, so she was pretty upset.

Today I'm heading into work early again... It looks like another long long day.

I'm leaving for Rothbury today. It should be a good three days of music, booze and hippies. Hopefully they won't smell too badly..

So today was my first day at the Roseville store, it felt kind of like going back to high school after summer vacation. So many new faces and a new environment, it felt kind of strange.

So far the people there are pretty cool. Two of new co-workers and I bonded over Gin n Juice by Snoop Dogg, so that really helped. I opened two new accounts and sold a U-Verse (our fancy schmancy TV and internet service).

It's amazing what a different culture it is out there. In Birmingham people come in to get a new line for their nanny, because the au pair is going back to France and the chef and gardner are way too busy to watch the kids while their mother is at yoga class after pilates. In Roseville they need a phone for grandma to use while she's watching the kids while mom and dad are at walmart sprucing up their Nascar collectibles stock pile.

I'm not really sure which clientele I can talk to better. I could discuss wine and art with the Birmingham crowd but the Roseville crowd is so much more approachable in general.

Another day, another dollar....

p.s. The Fragile is still my favorite Nine Inch Nails album.

So after being at AT&T Birmingham for two years I'm transferring to the Roseville store. I've been pretty unhappy with how things have been at my current store for a while and seems like this is for the best.

This is a super busy store with a lot of really good salespeople. I'm going to have to be on my toes, I'm a little nervous. Some of the people I'll be working with are legends for this area.

So if you're out that way drop by, I'm at the AT&T store on 12 and Gratiot.

I'm (slowly) learning to use Adobe Flash and would like to share my (crappy) web animations with you all and have some kind of an online portfolio. That said I'm going to need some web hosting, any suggestions? I don't mind paying a couple of bucks and would love to have a real dotcom. Anybody out there have any real estate on the web? Any suggestions on what my domain should be?

Drop me a comment...

First of all I just want to say one thing: I fucking love sitting in my backyard and writing journal entries while drinking a beer. It instills in me a sense of zen like peace and tranquility that I can't describe. I highly recommend it if you have the means.



Last night Bob and I went to a music/art show. It was hosted by a band known as His Name is Alive (really more of a solo artist). It consisted of several home made thumb pianos connected amplifiers that were being played at once. This resulted in a cacaphony of noise that was interesting for a while.

Bob (the Bob) is a huge fan of His Name is Alive and was very excited to finally be able to meet Warren Defever, the composer of all their songs. Bob got his picture taken with Warren and expressed his admiration for his work. I must say that Warren is a very nice fellow and he was very humble.

Overall it was a good time.

The Melvins - Talking Horse

The revolution will be podcasted.

So I recently saw the new Rolling Stones Concert Film, it's called shine a light and it's directed by Martin Scorcese. It was a really enjoyable film, I saw it at the imax theatre at the Henry Ford. The film was shot wonderfully and had great performances.

The stones have yet to age, they seemed to be rocking just as hard as they were 25 years ago. Mick Jagger did his incredible rock walk as he strutted down the stage shaking his hips and Keith Richards made it abundantly clear that he is possibly the coolest person in the history of the world.

To me the real lesson from the film was authenticity; I'm starting to think that hipster uber irony and smirking sarcasm in music is a bad thing for the art form. It's hard to imagine Keith being like "I did this crazy solo and the audience bought into it, it was like I was totally rockin hard, isn't that hilarious?".

Dan Kennedy also writes about this in his amazing book Rock On: an office power ballad. He talks about having a hard time picturing Kiss laughing at their material. Now I admit that Kiss was ridiculously heavy handed and I have a hard time not laughing at them, but I still find his point to be valid.

I sometimes worry that we're still paying the price for the god awful shit storm that was metal music when I was finishing high school. I suppose after that stinking piece of shit we needed some levity.

Popular music seems to revolve around emo kids and quirky singer song writers (I'm not going to include rap with pop music here because I honestly don't understand it and don't know shit about it). A lot of the singer songwriter crowd seems to be about being as unthreatening as possible, which is a distant from the days of terrifying metal bands trying to look like space monsters (Gwar still kicks ass).

I'm starting to wonder if it's more ethical to download music and movies than it is to buy them.

Current projects:

1. I'm doing research for my first graphic novel. It involves a mythical creature and haunts Detroit. The whole project will take course over the entire history of the city going back to the original French settlers. I was given the number for an artist and hopefully we'll meet up soon.

2. I successfully enrolled at the college for creative studies! I've been talking about this for years and I've finally done it.

New years resolutions:

1. Start making music again (any instrument, with any number of people)

2. Finish graphic novel

3. get my finances in order: this includes setting up an IRA, investing in a hedge fund and maintaining a healthy amount of credit card debt.

4. somehow rearrange our bedroom to include an office area.

5. purchase bass guitar, appropriate bass amp,and a real guitar amp.

6. get home recording studio moving.

Does anybody remember Daft Punk from before Kanye?

Why do some bands treat acoustic versions of their songs like they're some kind of special treat? It's almost as though they think they're better off being stripped down and mellow instead of their regular version. If you think your songs sound better softer and with acoustic guitars, why don't you always perform them that way?

John Roberts sat at his desk staring at a computer screen, he scratched his hipster beard and began to wonder what happened to his creativity. It had been years since he felt like a real writer and had been wearing on his self confidence. He frequently day dreamed about the past when he still felt like someone with something to say,

He tried everything. He tried reading constantly, he tried caffeine, he tried writing about relationships. He tried a disciplined approach of forcing himself to write crap everyday with the hope that eventually he would get back into his old rythm. Nothing clicked or worked.

He started to drown himself in comic books as a way of standing in awe at the sensational work of the authors that he cherished. One in particular stood out: Grant Morrison.

Grant Morrison, the Scottish hero of the graphic novel. A man who wrote some of John's favorite peices of literature. He always said that when he was in a jam, he would write himself into one of his works of fiction and he would gradually take on characteristics that he wrote into himself. For example: he once wrote about a character that he bore a resemblance to as being sick and almost dying and shortly thereafter he was in the hospital with blood poisoning.

From there on out Grant wrote his character as a peaceful warrior with a hot girlfriend.

John decided to take a cue from Grant and write himself into a short story that he would post to his blogspot account. He had this insane idea that he would write about himself as a blogger who inserts himself into a short story as a way of curing his writers block. He thought that if he could emulate his character in real life it might finally solve all of his frustrations over his lack of creative output.

So he wrote. He sat in his room and typed away, nervously pecking at the keys hoping that his experiment would pay off. He wrote about his character having a moderate amount of success and then feeling better about his writing again. He left the ending open because he didn't want to write himself into a box.

Over the next few weeks, John started to change. He had ideas all the time. He would sit down almost daily and write. He would write in a little notebook he carried around, he would post to his blog, he just had to keep on writing.

Every story got better and better and John started to feel better. All he had to do was keep up with himself.

The newest project is officially Port Huron the Musical. I want to write something that sums up my thoughts and feeling on the place and the people in it.

I thought for years that the only things that I could say about Port Huron were that it was a vile cesspool and that anyone with a brain would want to run the hell out of there.... Then I left it.

I suppose what I really want to get across is that an adult is not a product of their enviroment, but their enviroment is an extentsion of who they are. When you no longer feel comfortable or happy with where you live you should leave it; but don't kid yourself into thinking a change of venue is better than a change of attitude.
 
I think that everyone sees the greenest pasture being the one they didn't grow up one; it's an easy trap to fall into but ultimately it's not where you are but it's what you're doing that really matters.When I lived in Port Huron I was the most productive that I had ever been. I was making music and running a philosophy club. The entire time I was there I bitched a moaned about what a horrible place it was; only to arrive in Detroit and waste a year thinking that parasitic egomaniacs were my friends.

I rambling...

Port Huron the musical will be about a young man feeling trapped in his community who eventually escapes and realizes that he was never really trapped he was just scared. I'm fleshing out the plot now and I'm starting to compose the songs in my head. With any luck I'll start recording it at home this winter.