From January 21st, 2010

So, tonight, January 21, 2010, I attended my very first college course, some 12 years after graduating from Apache Junction H.S.

I thought the class I was taking was Intro to Theater, but due to an oversight on my part, I actually signed up for History of Cinema. (More on that later.)

I was very excited about going to class, in fact my heart has been jumping all week at the very idea of going to school.

This afternoon before school, I had decided to visit my friend Drew over at Idaho Mountain Touring and check out their cruiser selection. Not finding anything in my price range, I decided to return home and go get my bike and have them fix an issue I was having with my brakes.

After having the brakes somewhat fixed, I went home to grab some things before I ventured off to my first college class. The brakes thing took a little longer than expected, so I was in a bit of hurry.

I took off on the bike, was cruising along at a good clip, but my progress was stopped by a red light at the corner of 9th and Front.

So the light turns green, I get a head of steam and am ready to book it across the street. I put my right foot on the pedal, press down with great and force, and then.....

BAM!

The pedal snaps off. It snaps off. It snaps the fuck off...

My shin bone on the right leg went directly into the sprocket with all the force of the intended pedaling, and my body lunged forward, with nothing unfortunately but my pinky on my left hand breaking my fall. I yell out a mighty 'Ah fuck!!', pull myself and bike off the ground and back up onto the curb. A young lady came running up from behind and says 'Don't worry. I got that car's license plate.' I'm not too sure what she thought she saw, but I sincerely hope she is never my star witness if I am ever on trial for murder.

I lock the bike up, and I head off towards Boise State. I am not 100% sure where my class is exactly. I wouldn't even say I was 50% sure where the class was. Luckily I find it with no problem, but I am still late for having to gimp down the street the last half of my journey with a bloody shin and bloodier pinky.

I walk in as inconspicuously as possible, which I did by walking right in front of the overhead projector. I find a seat, my finger is dripping blood. But I am trying to act like this is not my first college rodeo, so casually pull out a note book and pen from my backpack, albeit with only hand, as the other is below the desk dripping blood onto the floor.

After sitting for 10 minutes or so, I am realizing that this instructor has not mentioned anything about theater. Everything he has mentioned has been about movies. Nothing but movies. So I am thinking that not only was I late for my very first class, I also managed to walk into the wrong one entirely.

I pull out this scrap of paper that I had jotted all the course info on, and as it turns out, I was in the right place after all. Somehow, through completely blind, stinking luck, I managed to sign up for a class that is more my jam than the original.

Anyways, the class was rad, we watch about 18 movie clips, we will be watching whole movies, it is gonna be sweet.

That's all.

Sram Retipuj

(The following poem I wrote way back in 2007, the poem is composed of the titles to every Red Hot Chili Peppers song that had ever came out, with each stanza representing a different album.)

Sram Retipuj

I wanna get up and jump, they wanna buckle me down
A police copter to green heaven to run around
Grand Pappy Du Plenty with a soul to squeeze
You always sing but I wonder why you don't love me
R.H.C.P. inspired me to write this way
True men don't kill coyotes when they're out in L.A.
Mommy, where's Daddy, that's the baby's appeal
Believe when I say I know just how you feel

I'm a jungle man, doing this American Ghost Dance
The Brothers Cup getting freaky styley to sex rap
The black eyed blond who I loved a strange way
Baby just ask if you want me to stay
Lovin' and touchin', playin' Battleship
Nevermind on the radio, a kiss on the lips
Thirty dirty birds congregate on the roof
Catholic school girls rule when they're being aloof
In Hollywood Africa, I'm the Yurtle The Turttle
Pause for a second if you like what hurdled

The skinny sweaty man hiding behind the sun
Learning while I party on your pussy for fun
Me and my friends playin' tag in the back woods
Walkin' on down the road, why not do it backwards
Fight like a brave, commit a funky crime
Organic beat box band, spitting funky rhymes
Been with many girls, it was a love trilogy
Bust more rhymes and steal, yo, what the dilly

Good time boys lookin' for a sexy Mexican maid
Set me on fire, just so I can taste the pain
Many superiors tried to knock me down
I took a subway to Venus to reach a higher ground
My cuz Johnny tried to kick a hole in the sky
Magic Johnson, HIV, tried to make me cry
But I didn't, nobody weird like me
I'm down with stone cold bush above the knees
It's either hip hop, or a punk rock classic
The public's deaf, dumb and blind, don't bother askin'

I could have lied, the righteous and the wicked
Naked in the rain, hiding under the bridge, it's
The funky monks and Apache Rose Peacock
Mellowship Slinky in B Minor, they're red hot
Whatever you have, give it away, power of equality
My lovely man, if you have to ask, is Sir Psycho Sexy
Breaking the girl, tell her to suck my kiss
The greeting song was BloodSugarSexMagik

One hot minute in a coffee shop
My friends and me roll in one big mob
My sense of humor warped like a deep kick to the face
With an ego like a pea, falling into grace
Transcending tearjerkers, shallow be thy game
Time for the walk-about, they took the aeroplane

Road trippin', all around the world
Lookin' for a portal to the parallel universe
I get on top, I'm always right on time
In a velvet glove with a purple stain on the other side
It's easily removed, a savior with a Tide pen
For some reason, I like dirt on my porcelain
Plenty of scar tissue, love the emit remmus
Cali is the species, fornication is the genus

Universally speaking, I could die for you
Don't forget me, that's what I want you to do
At midnight, throw away your television
Lies being spread through cable and satellite dishes
I can't stop getting dosed, my family's fear
It's not a minor thing, the a/c sheds a tear
I'm on Mercury with an imaginary Venice queen
A cabron to inebriated to sing
The zephyr song played so much it made the tape warm
By the way, the garage was the place where the star was born

Hard to concentrate when she looks to me
Cuz I'm ready for the 21st century
If it makes you feel better than tell me, baby
Your desecration smile's enough to torture me
She's only 18 and wants to hump de bump
Come on girl, me and you is like a storm in a tea cup
I creep like a slow cheetah in the wet sand
Area 51, we believe in the death of a martian
She strips my mind, studying the warlocks
Turn it again like a key inside the door lock
We returned to the Stadium Arcadium
To see Charlie Daniels so we could hum to him
She moves me so much, I ran naked through the snow
Especially in Michigan, damn temps so low
She said 'Hey don't go, I wanna run with ya'
We'd lounge at the Animal Bar in Dani California

Dated May 9th, 2009

Magnetism

AKA

Dog Bites and Grocery Store Claw Machines

AKA

Know God,
Know Peace.

No God,
No Peace.

AKA

If you can toss the Heineken bottle and still catch it, you haven't had too much too drink.

(Start tape now)

I loved doing drugs. Some I loved more than others. For instance, I loved mushrooms. The only time I didn't have that much fun on mushrooms was after I took a handful that a lady at Elliott's (RIP) gave me. It wasn't fun because it was the last night my dad was in town, a Sunday. He was going to be taking the Greyhound back to Portland at around 10 pm. I ate them at 9. So they started kicking in as I was walking him down to the Greyhound, 4 blocks away.

We got to the station, and I was full on tripping. They Greyhound station is notorious for some nefarious characters hanging around, that night was no exception. I was watching my dad playing a driving game, Cruis'n USA I believe, and I was totally enthralled. At one point the track he was racing on veered off onto a runway at an airport, and when a plane nearly landed on him, I thought I was gonna have a heart attack.

Well anyways, as I watching all these cool flashing lights and incredible racing action, a transient taps me on the should asking for a cigarette. This guy the gnarliest black scab on his right cheek bone, some random ball cap that looked as if a marching band had walked over it, missing teeth, soulless dark brown blood shot eyes, and he appeared out of no where 6 inches from my face. Being in the middle of a full on mushroom trip, he freaked me out. He offered me 20 cents for a cigarette, I said I didn't have any. Even though I did, USA Gold menthol, 100's even.

At about 9:25, I was wondering if I was gonna be able to handle it any more in this Greyhound station. More people were filing in, clothes in garbage bags, two dozen kids in tow, very Night Of The Living Dead looking. I was feeling quite alien, I felt like I was a good ten feet tall, it felt like everyone knew that I was on the brink of losing my mind. That was what it felt like. They dullness of this bus station, with this glaring fluorescent white glow overhead, the strangest of strangers eyeballing each other. Finally I said to Pop, 'You gonna be all right? I think I'm gonna head out.' He says yeah, we hug it out, and I walk out with these huge feeling of guilt on my shoulders about being totally fucked up the last night my dad was in town. And the feeling someone was gonna follow me home.

The walk home, though only four blocks, felt like it took an hour. The trees branches loomed over the sidewalk, creating pitch black shadows that looked I could fall into. So I walked very cautiously, trying to stay on lighter shaded parts of the side walk. Every car that passed, every rustling of leaves, all noise seemed to be happening right inside my head. All I could think of was the safeness of my apartment, how badly I wanted to be in living room, with blinds closed, the door locked, the lights off. Once I was there I'd be OK.

I finally made it, walked in, kept the lights off, turned on the TV, locked the door behind me, and sat right on the floor maybe a foot away from the TV. I turned on a show called Green Acres, which I had previously not seen before. The show was a riot, my paranoia started to lift, and pretty soon I was licking the inside of the baggy the mushrooms were in, trying to get any dust that may prolong this high that now finally I was enjoying.

I did a lot of coke in L.A., which to me seems like a very L.A. thing to do. At least to me. That shit was every where. I liked it, it was fun, but it wasn't good enough for me to get hooked on. People don't know this little fact, but the heart kinda tribal tattoo on my leg, I got it after I had been up all night snorting coke and drinking vodka. I showed up at my appointment, lay on the table and he started. I am not kidding you, he may as well have been using a ball point pen. It did not hurt at all. I sat and carried on a semi coherent conversation with Shiva the whole time. Later that day, we went to the Saturday Market there in Hollywood, and I bought the Batman wallet that is in my pocket right now.

Drugs were never the problem for me. They were fun, in high school I did as much drugs as I drank, simply because they were easier to come by than alcohol. Alcohol you had to steal or have someone buy for you, in high school I think I stole alcohol maybe 4 times. People always had weed though, speed was pretty prevalent, acid on occasion. Lot of paint huffing too. We did that shit too.

Drinking though, that is my preference. I got to see a lot of the ill effects of drinking as a kid. Some real wild shit, I remember being in the car when my mom got a DUI. My fault too, a cop drove past us on some stretch of highway, she says 'where's that beer??' in a sorta panicked way. So, I being the good son and trying to help, grab it an hold it up for the whole world and the cop to see. We got pulled over, I think I rode in the cop car with her, then had to stay with some family for I guess about a day. I do remember riding in these strangers car going somewhere, and they were getting mad at me for unbuckling my seat belt. I still don't like wearing them..

There's something about booze though. I remember the first time I actually got drunk, I knew I was in trouble. Because to me, this just felt too good. I saw what the fuss was all about now. That first time I got drunk, I ended up sitting out on the curb in front of a friend's house, drunk as hell with a river of vomit flowing down the street towards the drain. A friend's mom picked us up, I got dropped off, passed out with half my ass hanging off the couch. Slept all afternoon, really got in no trouble with my mom, my dad happened to call that same day and sorta laughed about it. Hmmm... No repercussions? Fuck it, it's on now....

And it was too. I went so hard for the next 10+ years, there was no low low enough. Nearly killed myself at 17 in a car accident, while drunk. Kicked out the army, arrested about a dozen times, injuries, blackouts, wrecked cars. None of it mattered. Who knows how many people I hurt. My drinking was at it's all time worst in L.A., it was nothing to me to drink a 5th of Jack Daniels and then go to the bar for a few hours. It was nothing to stay drunk for a few days straight. I didn't care. One day I decided I had had enough, so I took about 30 Excedrin, drank a 5th and passed out. I just knew I wasn't gonna wake up this time, and I couldn't wait. I woke up a few hours later, threw up, stumbled down to the gas station and got a bunch of water and Gatorade, barely even thankful my half ass suicide attempt had failed.

I know now that it wasn't my time to go. If it was I would just jumped off my balcony, I was living on the 3rd floor after all. I could have easily jumped and landed perfectly enough to impale myself on a wrought iron fence down below. I guess I wasn't as hell bent on ending it all as I thought.

The reason, I believe, I was kept alive was to be a father to Tristan. Tristan is the most amazing miracle, the most improbable human being I know. I was kept on this earth to be here for him. Tristan was conceived within weeks of me being back in Idaho. I was hooking up like crazy at this bar downstairs, nothing. Then one random ass night, one isolated incident, I contribute 50% to this little bad ass. That is why I am here. It is what my whole life has lead up to. As hell bent as I was on my own self destruction, something else was in the works.

My all time low, the circumstances that lead me to putting the bottle down for good was getting arrested just 8 days after he was born. He was still in the damn hospital, in intensive care I think. When I saw the flashing lights, the red and blue, knowing I was going down for my 4th DUI, a felony, there was actually a sense of relief. I knew at that exact moment that finally I had had my last drink. That the bottom had been reached, I could start trying to claw my way back up. I was feeling an intense guilt about my selfishness, knowing I was gonna miss part of his life being in jail. I had no idea just how much I would be missing. 80 in days in jail, 8 surgeries. Fucking crazy.

So anyways, 379 days have passed since I last had a drink. For the most part, the desire is gone, but it does creep up every now and then.

That's all I got for now. Thanks for reading.

(Stop tape now)

Cigars and Sublime

Cigars and Sublime

Cigars and Sublime, the green looking even
The pit is missing though good in all seasons.
The trees overhang, left piss in my yard
Feeling pins & needles from drawing too hard.
The view'd be better if it wasn't electric
Leaves, glad to be back, dancing like Egyptians
Three little birds engaged in conversation
They clapped when they left for their next destination.
A love seat on the pavement, shredded and battered
Holds bones like a sling, I rest my grey matter.
The paper seems to shrink with each breath I take,
wood wet by the lips, the pillar greets the rake.
Ceramic red pistol with dead sniper bullets
Fuzzy nuts scramblin', actin' so foolish
I contemplate, I'm kinda wonderin' if..
Even the best son of a bitch is still just a son of a bitch?
A burgundy Sycamore held up by a fence
Blow smoke out my face, it never reaches my chest.
It's all the same thing: music, wind and feelings
They can be very moving but you can't really see them
Music creates feelings, the wind write songs
The songs move the earth but the earth stands strong
Me with no pad is like a bee with no hive
Sublime is the music, today it's my state of mind.

2011 Year in Review

2011 Year in Review

Let me think. I am pretty sure I started 2011 single, and unless something changes in the 13 ½ hours, will probably being single at the beginning of 2012. This would be pretty insignificant except for the fact that did actually get engaged this year. Like for real engaged, not me just fucking with people for my own entertainment. I have no idea of knowing where I would be if I had stayed engaged, if I would be any better off than I am now. I’d say there’s a good chance of it, that was a pretty good little run I had there. It was fun and comforting when the four of us (her, me and our respective kids) would all be crashed out in my bed like a bunch of Who’s from Whoville. But, like my acting career, MMA career, rapping career, military career and tile laying career, it was destined to be short lived and not very well received. I will say I learned a lot in that very brief chapter in my life. That may have been the only time I was ever ‘all-in’ in a relationship, that is to say I was totally into it. All apologies to any ex’s that read this, but I am sure they are aware, in past relationships I often had one foot out the door, and, if it wasn’t to that extreme, I at least had my eye on it. That is not a knock on any of them, I am a walking, legitimate example of “it’s not you, it’s me”. It’s always me. Commitment issues, intimacy issues, whatever it is, but I’ll find a way to make it not work. So, what I was saying was is that I had went into the engagement without hesitation or reservations, and found out how emotionally exhausting that can be. I got so into it so fast, the smallest little things would hit me like a kick to the gut. (Author’s note: Hit me like a kick?) Like a text message not returned fast enough would make me want to vomit. The mere mention of an ex or off handed remark about a good looking guy would make me want throw a brick through a window. I was all over the map, and it was because I was experiencing these emotions I had been ignoring/suppressing for years. I must have been the neediest little bitch of a boyfriend/fiancé ever.

Anyway, I could go on about that forever. Who cares, change the record.

On to The Bambino. Now, as closely as I can remember, Bambino only made two trips to the hospital in 2011. He had the month long stay that began on February 14th and ended with his tonsils being removed, the second one was in June, when he had diarrhea for like a week. The weird thing is, it was the second visit that actually kicked my ass worse on the emotional tip. It was the day of June Jam, I was all psyched and knew I was going to tear the house down (again), and I got the text from his mom saying she was taking him in. Once again, like getting hit with a kick right in the stomach. My initial thought was, ‘Why can’t my kid just be left the fuck alone? It’s enough already.’ Then, secondly, selfishly, I thought, ‘Why today? Why on the day of the show I have been looking forward to doing for months?’ I was able to go see him before the show, the show went off better than expected, aside from forgetting the words in one song. He stayed in a week that time, getting fluids. But other than that, it is has been maybe the best year so far for the young man. He started spending time away from the house at a day care, which was monumental to me. I realize just how hard it is to sorta let the kid go out into the world. I was nervous, that me or mom wouldn’t be around, worried that these people don’t know him like we do. But it is working out very well. My kid is big and strong and good looking and has an amazing effect on people. Anyone who meets him, it’s like love at first sight. Even people that haven’t met him seem to like him. Even right now, I look over at him, he is lying on my living room floor, with his head under a pillow, looking at a book and giggling has tiny little butt off. Classic Bambino.

On a side note, only just found out recently that the word Bambino is apparently Italian for baby. I had no idea, I just started calling him that one day and it stuck.

Other notes on 2011…

My 3 on 3 basketball team finished in 2nd place in our division, surprising everyone.

I had my first Pro MMA fight in Butte, MT, losing by knockout to Leo Bercier. I gotta say, Leo was a true pro about it, I got a lot of respect for that guy. I would love to tangle with that cat one more time, at least get out of the first round this time. The road trip itself might have been the best one of my adult life, Kenji and my dad made for great company, some of the best and funniest moments of the trip were actually just in Kenji’s van.

Perhaps the scariest and maybe lowest moment of the year came when I decided I could drink with no troubles. I went and got a bottle of the cheapest wine I could find (Beringer, if you are curious). I was really anxious about this going down, and knew I could get away with it, as in to say I could do it and no one would ever know. So, I was in my kitchen, looking at the bottle, and I decided to put it in fate’s hands. I took my little foam basketball, looked towards my Nerf basketball hoop, and said, “If I make a basket in the next three shots, I drink that whole bottle of wine.” So I put up a shot, I sunk the very first one. And, the second, and the third. I figured with that my fate was sealed. I opened the bottle, poured some into a glass, and then stood there for a moment. I lifted the glass to my face, I smelled it, I put it down. My heart was actually racing at this point. I ended up taking the bottle and the glass to the sink and dumping them out. I didn’t drink. A lot was going through my head at that point, what it boiled down to was I have son who needs me at 100% capacity, I have my toughest semester of school yet coming up, I have a job I don’t want to lose, and honestly, I just don’t have the monetary capabilities to cop a drinking habit again. It was a very strange moment for me, because I felt sort of embarrassed that I even allowed myself to get to that point without reaching out to someone to talk or whatever. But, I felt relief that I didn’t allow myself to take that drink. Seriously, I would have been toast. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. There would have been no more Bambino, no more school, no more job. No more me.

New Year’s Resolutions? I don’t have any. I guess one would be trying to stay as close to fight shape as I can, just in case I ever get that call. But other than that, I kinda liked how 2011 turned out over all, I don’t feel like I need to change anything. I have never been one to make any long term plans, so I will continue to let life take me places. Bambino will be there with me, and that’s really all I need to worry about.