New Year's Resolution #1 - The Going Out of Your Way to be Nice Game

I enjoy people who go out of their way to be nice to others.  I know it's a cliche way to view the world, but I believe it's a lot harder to go out of your way to be kind than it is to defaulting to jackass-mode.  I admire those who go out of their way to either help clean up a mess on aisle 5, pick up dog shit after they'd already taken their shoes off, or simply say hello to someone who looks down becuase, in all actuality, I have only recently taken note of this.  Of course I know a good deed when I see one, I'm not 6.  When I say "only recently taken note of this," I refer to introspection. 

Don't worry, I'm not sitting here sulking becuase I think everyone sees me as an asshole; quite the contrary.  Actually, I get along wondefully with most friends and family.  Crack a couple jokes, ask questions outside of my personal interest, you know... care.  I might not always see the glass half full, but fun is a number one social priority and I think I bring that to the table.  So those bases are covered.

However, I have started to wonder about the strangers I encounter.  That is the type of "going out of your way to be nice" that I have become interested in.  The barista at Starbucks who is clearly on their first day, the shoe salesman at the mall who knows I'm there for a belt, or the flight attendent who has just gone from Paris to Chigaco to San Francisco.  Am I, and even better, are we, going out of the way to be nice to these people?

For a long time my mind was set on "where do I have to get to next."  Let me preface by saying I do not view this is an altogether horrible way to live.  One needs to look out for themself.  If you're breaking your spine in two to finish everyone else's shit you're not going to have any time to wipe your own ass.  Does that make sense?  But it can't be all about me and my inner circle of peers and kin.  For all I know, that shoe salesman has the same mentality of "where do I have to get to next."  Therein not aware of what is unfolding around him/her. 

I guess this minor realization is partly due to the fact I deal with strangers on a day to day basis now.  We all do.  We're pretending to be adults.  That smile comes in handy when you're walking into an unfamiliar office.  A kind gesture does wonders for a new client you're in business with.  However, these kind qualities are almost considered requirements of a job.  I want to go a little deeper than that.  Let's make this "going out of your way to be nice" thing a daily habit.

Listen, I've been nice to strangers before.  This is not some Jerry McGuire mission statement I've had cold sweats about for the last six hours.  My only point is I want to go out of my way to be nice.  I want to be the guy the shoe salesman talks about when they get home because I asked what they're studying in school.  I know I'll enjoy my time at Starbucks if I follow my order with "take your time."  And, to be perfectly honest, I would not mind scoring a free drink on the plane because the flight attendent noticed I was helping stow away suit cases.

I don't think I've ever intentionally tried to be a jerk-off to a person in passing, but that does not mean I did not come off as one.  My first New Year's Resolution: go out of your way to be nice to the people around you.  No matter where you are, no matter who it is.  I know "resolution" sounds like I am resolving some inner demon, but that is the best term I have for you right now.  And let me say this, I think most New Year's Resolutions are a big waste of time.  I feel solid about this one, though.

Of course, there are going to be people in the world who piss you off.  If you thought this whole post was telling you not get mad at people than you clearly have no idea who I am.  Whatever is making you mad:  a bad job deal, no breakfast, constipation..  Stay patient... Don't be frustrated with the people who pass through your life in a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds.  We've all been there and it's okay.  I just want to be there less.

Enjoy your day.

Is It Belief?

Let's be exactly sure, what we are afraid of
Speak in present tense and fear
Please don't look above, because I cannot make up
A circumstantial ending point for us all
But you keep running smooth, denying all proof
The cold clay that will soon enfold
Make no illusions please, this is personal truth
It is what I have come to know and believe and hold on to and love
Is it belief?  With no God.
It is belief.  An athiest is a fraud.
I believe that I don't believe?

Bad San Francisco Drivers

What's up wang-doodles?  If you understand that reference, you actually read books as a kid and your parents didn't let you buy tapes.  Sissies.

Hump day has hit us once again and we are that much closer to enjoying another fun-filled weekend under this global warmed sun.  Up in the city for business today, I was amazed to see all the construction that has enfolded most of San Francisco.  As a new member to the plumbing industry and construction in general, I was excited to know the meetings I was headed to were going to soon dictate whether or not my company's product will be placed inside of these many projects popping up all over San Francisco like zits on a teenager's face.  Don't look at me with oddly, though, it's not as if I just realized today that all this construction was happening.  I visit the city enough for either business or pleasure to at least have an idea of how much construction effects everyday life.  However, I am usually passing through or using public transportation, so this was truly the first time in a looooooong time I had to embark on a safariesque expedition looking for a parking spot.

Again, this was not the first day I realized how bad traffic is in the city.  I've been in, screamed "fuck," and lost brain cells holding my breath in San Francisco traffic before...not anything new to me.  But with all of this construction and all of those closed lanes and detours you city drivers have turned into a bunch of fucking barbarians.  One lane closes on Howard and this one way street turns into the battlefield of Braveheart.  I could have sworn I saw Mel Gibson, face painted, pulled over by the police, and once again denying the existence of the Jewish faith and other Anti-Semetic outbursts of the sort. 

In one swift lane change, which in the lady's defense was awfully close to a full blown cut off, I was flipped off, had brights flashed at me, and was screamed at as soon as she pulled even with my mini-van.  Now, I don't know if it was the mini-van, my wide eyes, or my wave before the lane change that gave this lady the intimiation factor, but I can safely say a 65 year old woman has never made me want to shit my pants so badly.
I come from the Peninsula and I still live there.  We let pedestrians cross when there are many and said pedestrians know when to wait and let a patient car pass through.  You know, common courtesy of the world.  I actually watched a man walk on a "do not cross" sign and almost get lit up.  Dude, Scott, that happens everywhere. Yeah dude, you're right.  Most places, though, don't have a muni-bus humming at a solid 35 with no disregard for human life slam on it's breaks and nearly turn "aring old man" into "disfigured old something I can't tell what the fuck that is, a man or woman or pet or item of clothing?"  And yes, I understand San Francisco has smaller roads than most cities.  I'm not saying buy a smaller car and I'm not saying bigger roads are just as hard, because they are not.  All I want to say is understand you're in this shitty driving situation with the rest of the free world and we're trying to get to our office break room for Krispy Kreme Wednesdays, as well.

Maybe I'm just venting on just another Hump Day.  Maybe.  But damnit, I'm American.  And as a 21st Century American, it's my job to bitch and moan about what I've seen throughout the day on the internet.  I'm doing exactly what you would do, but I am funnier and slightly better at it than you are.  Anyway, I am truly not sure who I blame more for this fiasco of motor speed (or lack there of) confusion.  Do I blame Henry Ford for the mere invention of this monsterous 2-ton death machine or Bozo the Clown who received his driver's liscence from the Cracker Jack box he just crushed driving the car? 

Either way, we have to get better behind the wheel.  Get off the phone, put down your bean and chee burrito, and don't flip out when you see two lanes merging in a quarter mile.  Happy Hump day, ya psychopaths.

Rocktober

Outside of the second half of February, the October's tail end is always one my eyes glom onto.  Like a twerking butt or squating thighs, the back side of October is strong, robust, ever-changing, and down right freaky at times.  With the weather changing temperature, trees adopting new color, and many faces gaining spooky make-up, October is a month I think all of us cherish, but never spend much time talking about. 

For sports fans, theee best baseball of the year takes place.  Granted this playoff season was not particularly fun for us Giants fans - especially having to watch that suckbag Brian Wilson almost make it back to another World Series in Dodger blue - and we may not have been as intrigued, it is still a great time for the sport, nonetheless. 

For music fans, there are concerts and festivals galore.  Fall and Winter tours are just getting kicked off, we just recently celebrated the Treasure Island Music Festival, and of course, my favorite, The 27th Anual Bridge School Benefit is coming up this weekend at Shoreline Ampetheatre.  No, I do not have a free ticket for you.  Tons of albums have been released.  Pusha T stole the show with My Name is My Name.  I guess that band The Head and The Heart came back strong with that sophomore album that I haven't listened to and can't remember the name of. 

For anarchists and government saps, you were able to commiserate together for almost 20 straight days while our government acted like 5 year old boys who thought the other 5 year old girls had some sort of vile disease.  In all honesty, because we ended up diverting from a world wide economic colapse through pushing back the debt ceiling deadline, I think the only thing the government shutdown substantially effected was Donte Whitner ability to drop the 'W' from his last name.  Idiots.

Last but not least, however, we still have the actual celebration of Halloween to look forward to.  Because I am still a 7 year old child at heart, I still rock a costume and sometimes more than one.  A few years ago I was a middle finger and the next night I was a rock star, two years ago I was a Giants baseball player, and last year I was a priest from Hell.  Yes, that last one was actually true...Sorry Grandma.  What to be this year?  I am not one for repeating a look, but that priest one was pretty funny.  I took to twitter the other day and said "For Halloween this year I am going to paste money to my body, light it on fire, and go as 'relationships,'" but something tells me that could be expensive and dangerous.  So who knows, I'm sure we'll all dress up as something we wish we secretly were, but do not have the balls to actually be.

All in all, I think October has been a fine month and I look forward to seeing what the ending brings.  Until then, hopefully I find something more interesting to write about than some stupid fucking monthly look-back.  Cheers.

The BART Strike: The Teacher vs. The Student

Hello there everyone.  With the recent news that BART transportation will, in fact, be shut down in strike again starting tomorrow morning I thought it would only be fair for my 35 1/2 readers to swallow the pill that is my opinion on the matter.  In fact, rather than bitch about the BART workers whining about an already ample salary that comes with health benefits and retirement or comment on how they are abusing unionized labor while affecting everyday employees or how the General Management of BART waits until the very last second to either continue talks or cease them... I thought I would liken it to something of a childhood tale: The Teacher and The Student.

For those who have no fucking clue as to what the BART strike even is the The Teacher would be portrayed by BART Management (specifically General Manager Grace Crunican) and The Student would be played by the BART Union (specifically the President of Services Employees International Local Union 1021, Roxanne Sanchez).  Also, The Headmaster who comes into the story would be played by Governor Jerry Brown.  As I said, most of you drive cars, don't know what BART is, and have no clue who these people are, so here is a children's story.  Be clear though, I don't know much, but I know enough to turn the story into a dumbed down metaphor, so that's about 1,000,000 times more than you.  Anyway, on with the tall tell tale...

On one fine fall morning, The Student came upon his very busy, very dependable school yard.  Kids were on swings, parents were dropping off said kids in a timely manor, and each teacher over looked the morning operations with pleased grins.  However, The Student was angry.  See, The Student's teacher, The Teacher, had followed The Student around school ever since the very first day of high kindergarden.  Coming up the ranks together, The Teacher and The Student butted heads to the point of near confrontation, but all scholastic operations ran smoothly and all other students, teachers, and parents, while they may have sensed a bit of tension, never thought a head on collision would ever take place.  The school was just too important...

Then, one day, The Teacher gave the class an assignment The Student had no toleration for.  The Student raised questions, but The Teacher did not want to hear it.  Back and forth they went.  The Teacher would assign the work, The Student felt more breaks should be given.  As I'm sure you can see, The Teacher acted just as much like a child as The fucking Student did.  The class halted.  Work was stalled.  And this once glorious school that was so dependable became a gridlock of frustration.

"Do this," said The Teacher.

"No." said The Student.

"Take that." The Teacher would demand again.

"Fuck you.  I'm not coming to class," The Student finally demanded.

Very civilized dialogue **induce vomiting**

Now, one could argue The Teacher set themselves up for this kind of backlash.  After all, The Student was given much before and was trying to use the leverage that was once so beneficial, again.  The Teacher all of a sudden became a red-ass and was calling The Student out for being a suckbag.  Since people knew how important it was for all students to be in class in order to keep the school running smoothly, The Headmaster finally stepped in to see what he could do about solving this almighty scholastic clusterfuck.

"Here's what I'm going to do," said The Headmaster. "I am going to give each one of you shit heads 60 days, call it a cooling off period, where you, The Student, will go to class, and you, The Teacher, will teach different material.  No mention of the previous assignment will be brought up in front of the class.  But let me make one thing perfectly clear, at the end of that 60 days, The Student better have that paper done or The Teacher better think of a way to satisfy The Student while still receiving a 100% effort in the class."

The Headmaster did not seem to be fucking around.  So, the 60 days comes and gos.  The class goes on.  Other kids and teachers forget.  But what do The Teacher and The Student talk about.  Not a goddamned thing.  Nothing at all.  The Teacher wanted the class to remain the same, The Student wanted change.  When do they wait to talk?  The 11th hour, or in this case the 60th day....

Class disruption continued.  The Teacher did not want to give in, The Student did not want to give up.  And so this sad, sad state of affairs continues.  No moral, no endgame, no solution.  The Student was a child, but so was The Teacher.  You would think one could learn from the other, they could work together, but it is sadly untrue.

Prideful?  Childish.  Quit the shit and find a common ground.  At least this blog wasn't a bigger waste of time than these BART negotiations.

A Holiday For Columbus? I'd Rather Work On A Monday

I have hated this day for quite awhile.  I can actually think back to one of the first times I gave original thought to the disapproval of Columbus Day.  The year was 2008 and I was writing for my high school newspaper.  Our class teacher and paper moderator, Ted Morton (no relation unfortunately), posed the question to each of our editors: "What is your favorite part of Columbus Day?"

As is custom, when this "holiday" comes around, schools get the day off.  Serra was no different and most of the editors staffed to the paper at the time referenced this scholastic absence as their most enjoyable part.  Very similar to now, I had a moderately large mouth in high school and was much more akin to taking the side of the opposition or saying something different to get a rise out of people.  All in all, I can't remember exactly what I said, but it was something along the lines of, "I actually don't like Columbus...The guy stumbles upon a habited land and calls it his own?  Get less original."

I know, I know.  Not exactly the opposing statement that raises pitch forks and torches, but most people skip out on stirring the proverbial pot and say they enjoy Columbus Day and I enjoyed taking the extra 30 seconds and speaking up for something else, whether or not I truly had a horse in the race.  However, as time went on and more experiences were mentally encapsulated, I started to realize there was actually some weight to my statement.

This weight was evidenced by way of a few very important instances and (dare I say) a slight bit of maturation.  Let's be honest and talk about the Christopher Columbus that teachers, family members, and friends don't want to talk about or, even worse, don't know anything about.

Yes, Columbus did travel to The Americas in 1492 and it is true that he went to spread the good word of Christianity.  The Nina, The Pinta, and the Santa Maria hung their Spanish flags high and sailed across the crushingly great seas of the world. Oh, people love telling you how silly it was that he and his other voyagers mistook The Americas for India and dubbed the natives "Indians."  It's all very cute because a lot of the natives knew very little about this religion known as Christianity and I know I was taught Columbus was so good to them because he took the wonderful time out of his day to teach them English.  According to Social Studies classes and ignorant pride, Christopher Columbus was a great dude.  We should have a holiday in his name.  We should be so very happy he accidentally graced our lands some 500 years ago.

In all actuality, Columbus would be what modern day activists and politicians would refer to as a "tyrant."  In four voyages to the "West Indies," Columbus was accused of forced labor, slavery, food deprivation, and, in one account,

Columbus once punished a man found guilty of stealing corn by having his ears and nose cut off and then selling him into slavery. Testimony recorded in the report claims that Columbus congratulated his brother Bartolomé on "defending the family" when the latter ordered a woman paraded naked through the streets and then had her tongue cut out for suggesting that Columbus was of lowly birth (Giles Tremlett (7 August 2006). "Lost document reveals Columbus as tyrant of the C. The Guardian (UK). Retrieved 16 May 2013.)

This is the guy we have a "holiday" for?  I am not here to say the Americas never would have been found and people would not have been unjustifiably pillaged, raped, and murdered if Columbus never showed to the party.  Unfortunately, Colonization proved these disgusting endeavors to be "the way of the Pilgrim" and to think these types of actions have not happened elsewhere and won't happen again would just be naive.  It happened with Vikings, Romans, and damn near every modern day society. We live in a world where domination comes by way of fear and power.  It is sad.

What is more sad, though, is that we have dedicated a holiday to this tyrannical suck bag.  That does not need to happen.  Do we have historians who look back on this 10 year beginning of Native American destruction and cry genocide?  I am sure there are, but even priests along for the voyage looked back on his "Divine Right" of taking the Americas and surrounding islands:

"Endless testimonies...prove the mild and pacific temperament of the natives... But our work was to exasperate, ravage, kill, mangle and destroy; small wonder, then, if they tried to kill one of us now and then... The admiral (Columbus), it is true, was blind as those who came after him, and he was so anxious to please the King that he committed irreparable crimes against the Indians (de las Casas, Bartolome (1971). History of the Indies. New York: Harper & Row.)

So, I hope I have not given you too much.  I hope I do not appear to be sitting on some high chair of reason and everyone else is below me and the others who feel the same way I do.  All I hope for is you can look past the day off or funny stories and look at what history truly gives you.  Think of the Native American people and how they feel on this day.  Because to Native Americans, this is not just another "holiday."  Christopher Columbus was a dick-head...and there is no better way to say it.  He sucks. 

Pre-People Watching?

How many people in your life have told you, "I love people watching.  It's the best."  A lot, right?  I mean, I can't go days without someone voicing that silly cliche while sitting at a bar, train stop, school library, or airport.  The whole idea of watching some dweeb spill coffee all over their crotch, witnessing a mother actually use one of those child leashes, walking on to a purposal, or any other random scenario that happens every day is an idea that covers the entire spectrum of human emotion.  We feel humored, we feel pained, we feel sympathetic, and, more importantly and more times than not, we imagine and feel ourselves in the same exact situation.  However, how do we feel when people are "people watching" us?

*Play "Twighlight Zone" music in head*

For the most part we don't even recognize it happening.  Hell, there is probably some creepy middle-aged man sitting behind me right now watching what I'm doing.  For those scoring at home: I'm drinking a Coors Light (soft), writing this rambling post, and ocassionally checking the TV at this airport bar.  Pretty normal, right?  Right.  If I were to see someone looking at me right now I would most likely give them the What the fuck are you looking at look and continue with my evening.  The creepy middle-aged guy would be "Pre-People Watching."   

BUT, say my Coors Light slips from my hand, crashes onto the floor, and (for the hell of it) I start crying it automatically becomes one of the greatest "People Watching" sightings of all time.  This weird older guy is going to tell his wife, who is going to have him re-tell it at dinner - inadvertantly telling the whole story for him - and I become an asshole without even knowing.  Trust me, whether we're the story teller, having the story told to us, or the subject of the story, we've all been here.  When the perfect moment of emotion happens, "People Watching" is one of the coolest activities you can pick up when killing time at, oh I don't know, San Jose Airport.

So, what's my point?  Don't be the creepy middle-aged guy who has no story to tell his wife.  In fact, don't be the creepy old guy who probably doesn't have a wife.  Alright, I'm off point... What I mean is, don't sit and stare at various people in a public setting waiting, hoping, praying for some story to unfold.  Yeah, you might catch a goofy outfit or two, but no one wants you sitting at a train stop looking people up and down.  You don't want that for you.  A few glances here and there are fantastic.  When something hilarious like me spilling my Coors Light everywhere happens, a glance will do just fine. 

Any way, have a wonderful weekend and, as always, play at least one Prince song.

Ramblin' 'bout Writin'

Hello there.  I am certain this is about the third time I have gotten back into blogging and I am even more certain that the few who gave a damn have long since wondered where my words escaped to.  Don't worry, Mom, I still have some creative writing inside this salesman head of mine.  I single out my Mother not in the intention of actually singling her out, but because she is probably the one available to single out.  Which, in retrospect, kind of defeats the purpose of even using the term, "single out."

Anyway, even though I do not have anything too terribly insightful to drop on you, it has been awhile since I have publicly posted any writings.  That's just a fact.  By the way, I say "publicly" because I actually write every single day.  These writings range from short stories, mostly unfinished, monologues/asides, kind of half and half on the finished/unfinished spectrum, and, as some people know, poetry.  Each individual poem is always finished, but they are never truly done.  That last sentence was lame, I know.

I guess the poems themselves are much like song lyrics.  I have never followed the poem structure of the likes of Frost, Poe, or Bill Shakes.  Rather, I usually have some melody in my head and either start with some sort of chorus or verse and role with it.  So really these binders and typed up pieces of paper I have are just lyrics with no music.  Damn, guess I should have focused more on those piano lessons you used to have me take, Mom.

The toughest part about writing these rhymed sentences is attempting to share them with other people.  Some read them, others have read ones written about them, and most, like I said, don't even care.  It's funny though, because as I get older I am starting to care less what people's reaction would be to them and care more that they have any reaction at all.  I want to start sharing it with people.  Funny, how easy it is for me to crack a joke or make a prepared speech about a topic, but how it takes me an entire blog post to let you know I may or may not post current memoirs.  Maybe it is a bit attention-whorish of me, but at least I am being honest.  I write op-eds, attempted to host a pirate radio show (that is not dead yet...I think), and tweet mostly shitty stuff about my daily observations...but there's not much serious material I put out there.

Please do not get me wrong, I am not saying I am some poetic master penning the world's existence to paper.  Some of it's about girls, some of it's about a long day, some of it's about a dog (that's actually true).  However, there are important aspects of my life I have been able to remember - for better or worse - because I wrote it down.  The passing of friends and love ones, failing miserably and searching for clarity in social and scholastic endeavors, ending friendships, starting new friendships, truly falling in love with someone, trust felt, personal (and social) reflection, and advice.  What is so great about it is I do not feel like a member of the "Woah Is Me Club" while I write, either.

This is not a justification to anyone.  It's basically a journal.  Many of my close friends and family members know how seriously I take and use my writing.  Getting out a lot of serious emotion allows me to not take other things in life so seriously...such as myself and all the petty shit we, as people, go through.  But to the people who have just read posts about kiosk workers and fantasy football roster-bation, or the ones who enjoyed the "Drunk of the Week" on Tito and Barry Live, or for the people who think my twitter is ridiculous and should be deleted, know I do write about important stuff.  Well, stuff that is important to me.

This is a really fun thing to do in every aspect.  Maybe I'll expand each "personal journal entry" or "current memoir" into a well though out blog post...going forward of course.  Hey, there's an idea.  I hope I can think of some interesting topics between now and tomorrow night so I can stop talking about my own hobbies that you don't read.

Faucet, anyone?

I'm back

So Long, Facebook

There was a time in my life when I actually did not have a Facebook.  Well, not counting the first eighteen years of my life, that is.  Those were the days, at least the later years, of MySpace.  Now that was the shit - top 8 walls, a personal song on your page, a cool bio... but I digress.  I am talking about sometime between 2009-2010.  I actually went onto Facebook, deactivated my account, and went a whole year without logging back in.  Don't worry, this post is not some personal pat on the back or a look back on a former New Year's resolution.  I am just here to tell you that I will be doing that again, starting today.

Why?

I believe there to be a couple of reasons.  For one, we all know it is a complete and total waste of time.  I can go a good couple of hours in the office working away, but then I am usually back on Facebook for the next 15 minutes; doing mindless shit.  Commenting on statuses, posting a "cool" music video, or going through Rico Barnes' profile pictures.  Besides that last one, I won't miss much of the mindless time-consumption.  I will admit, collecting meaningful and memory-filled images will take some time, so I guess I'll officially delete it when I am done with that.  Any pictures taken after today though, I get to start using the "I don't have Facebook, e-mail them to me at fill in the blank e-mail address" saying I came to love that entire year I did not have the Book.

Another reason I cannot have Facebook any longer are precisely because of the status updates.  I am no martyr here, but the next status I see about some political debate or socially conscious topic from someone who can barely finish a New York Times article is going to make me nauseous.  Get over yourself, you're not that smart.  Read a couple of books before you update your status with witty prose and release it to your 834 friends.  I will never judge or blame anyone for having a political opinion, but let us work on becoming the most informed citizen we can before proving to the internet we know what we are talking about.

And what is with the concept of a Facebook friend anyway?  What, I didn't accept your friend request within the first 10 minutes of your invitation and now we're not friends on the street corner?  I honestly have experienced people who stopped me while I was out and asked if I had checked Facebook recently.  Is this where we have gone as interactors and interactees, as it were?  Cool story, bro. Or gal.  Anyway, you get it.  

At the end of the day, I can complain all I want about my personal beef with the Book, but for the most part we can all agree to how stupid it is.  However, can you believe that people actually end friendships over that thing?  C'mon man.  Kids are up until 4 a.m. in the morning blasting chat messages to someone about how much of an asshole they are.  Really?  And I mean really, chat wars are one aspect, but actual comment debates for the entire public to read... ugh.  Like I said, I am not the martyr, we have all been there, I just do not want to do it anymore.

Also, think about all of the other ways we can stay in contact and communicate with each other.  Social Media websites such as Twitter, LinkedIn, Yammer, and even Four Square are all ways for the general masses to stay in touch and keep themselves relevant.  Okay, okay, Twitter is pretty much overrun with bullshit nonsense, as well, but I have found at least LinkedIn and Yammer to be useful, productive ways of online social interaction.

I like to consider myself as at least a partially enlightened individual, maybe I am giving myself too much credit there.  I am not sure.  The point is that I honestly think there are about ten other activities I could partake in (non-alcohol related) that would better ways to spend my time.  Reading more, visiting old record shops often, frequenting my front yard; these are all perfectly suitable substitutions for liking a photo of a handle pull that was uploaded at 3:30 in the morning.  Who knows, maybe this lack of Facebook will allow me to write more.

I know what you most of you are thinking (well, at least the ones who know me personally), "here goes Morton again with another almighty decision.  Let's see how long this one lasts."  I get that.  Hell, I probably deserve it.  However, I can assure I made it a year the first time I tried ran this race a few years back and I feel confident enough in myself to partake again.  For those trying to read into this, stop.  This is not some personal vendetta I am avenging or some hipster reaction to apathy.  At it's core, this is just what I want to do and I felt compelled to write it out for you.

So... Is there anybody coming with me?  Did anyone of the 14 people who actually read this feel empowered to say, "down to Facebook!  No longer shall we sit and watch a two and a half hour film about the downward spiral of interpersonal communication!"  No?  Nobody?  I didn't think so.  Well, this is the only idea of mine that has come close to a New Year's resolution.  So here goes nothin'....

New Albums To Look For In 2013

Rather than write a new year post about resolutions unfulfilled or a silly recap of a wild, new beginning year of 2012, I figured I would just stick to music.  Some new albums have already dropped in 2013 that have made many music fans happy.  A$AP Rocky's album, Long Live A$AP, was my first listen to any of his music.  I can say, as a matter-of-fact, that I was simply blown the fuck away.  If the album had not already been released, it would be number one on this list, without a doubt.  Songs such as "Goldie," "Hell," which features a fantastic feature of Santigold, and "Fuckin' Problems," A$AP is climbing up the underground ranks and should find himself with a nice set-time come Coachella 2013.  Back to what has yet to hit stores, though.  This list of albums are what I am looking out for.  I tried to incorporate something from each genre because there is a plethora of funky tunes out there.  Some are new artists, some are of an older cut, but all should be making headlines with their releases this year.  Take a look:

Artist: Alkaline Trio

Album: TBA

Release Date: TBA

This trio of alternative-punk/goth rockers from Chicago, Illinois are set to release their 8th studio album since their inception in 1996.  Their last release, This Addiction (2010), was a slight return to their original punk sound, but expanded their lyrical content into the political realm, "The American Scream," as well as paying homage to the original goth-punk band, The Misfits, with their second single, "Dine, Dine My Darling."  Still signed to Epitaph record label, this year The Trio headed into the Blasting Room music studio in Fort Collins, Colorado with producer Bill Stevenson (The Descendants, Rise Against, Black Flag).  Trio fans should expect the style of record as their most recent and can hope they dive even deeper into the punk rock soil that helped them sprout into the mainstream.

Arist: Johnny Marr

Album: The Messenger

Release Date: February 25

This legendary alternative-rock guitarist will be embarking on his first solo effort since, well, ever.  That's right, throughout Marr's progressive run with The Smiths from 1982-1987, his brief stint with The Pretenders in '88, and his studio work with well know artists such as Modest Mouse over the next fourteen years, the man never recorded a solo album.  If I had it my way, this album would be completely instrumental.  What ruined Slash's solo gig, in my opinion, were the bullshit features he had on every song.  Hopefully Marr just sticks to guitar (that rhymes) and a small tour of indie-clubs soon follows.  Marr's influence on rock music as a guitarist was undeniable.  His rhythm matched Morrisey's soothing voice on "I Have Forgiven Jesus," his gritty guitar ripped through Modest Mouse classics such as "Dashboard" and "Florida;" I hope I do not need to say more.  We should all be very excited this album is finally going to drop.

Artist: Kid Cudi

Album: Indicud

Release Date: TBA

If any of you have even remotely followed The Kid Named Cudi's twitter page (@ducidni), this album will not need a whole lot of background information.  Cudi has proposed Indicud to be "the greatest album of all time," acknowledging it will be his version of Chronic 2001.  Basically, Cudi will rap on some songs, produce others exclusively, and, at the end of the day, have a shit ton of features.  I can dig.  I have been a Cudi fan since Freshman year of college attending Santa Clara when the homeboy @trillbau gave me a couple of Scott Mescudi's mixtapes.  I was all on the hype and have loved both of his studio albums: Man on the Moon I and Man on the Moon II.  Speaking of Coachella, Cudi is my surprise guess as a second-tear headliner for Weekend One.  Bang.

Artist: Killswitch Engage

Album: Disarm the Descent

Release Date: April 2

Look Mommy, we listen to metal, too!  With their sixth studio album coming up, Killswitch Engage jumped back into the recording studio with original lead singer Jesse Leach.  With uplifting lyrics and sometimes religious message, do not think Leach is peacefully singing these tunes.  His howling scream has been missed on the last couple of Killswitch albums and I know some metal heads out there who are happy to have him back.  While fill-in lead singer Howard Jones did a fine job, his high-pitched Dio-esque voice was a complete 180 from what Killswitch was founded on and what people came to love them for.  I am relieved to know one of the founding bands of metalcore have reunited with their lead singer.  Mr. Leach, we now give you the premission to head-bang the fuck out.

Artist: The Joy Formidable

Album: Wolf's Law

Release Date: July 21

Ah, the curse of the potential sophomore slump.  Let's be honest, Mumford's Babel was great, but it is no Sigh No More, and Bon Iver's Bon Iver was mesmerizing, but I am not sure any indie album will ever come close to For Emma, Forever Ago.  Which brings me to my next artist who I have incredibly high expectations for - The Joy Formidable.  Their debut album, The Big Roar, grabbed hipsters by the ears and did not let go of their ear drums for for a good solid year.  I found out about these guys at Outside Lands in San Francisco exactly one month after they debuted.  Amazing.  "Whirring" is still on every playlist I make and the opening track "The Everchanging Spectrum of a Lie" is a haunting, psychedelic, hard-rock adventure all put into a seven minute jam.  Critics describe their music as shoegazing, whatever that means.  All I know is that Ritzy Bryan is one of the coolest front ladies in the all the land.  Let's just hope their second release lives up to the hype of the first.  I'm voting yes.

Artist: Bad Religion

Album: True North

Release Date: July 22

The legendary LA punk band is at it again.  Yes, those God-defying, red-line-through-a-cross-logo lunatics are back in the punk scene...for the 16th time, no less.  Bad Religion, the saviors of the melodic hardcore genre, are releasing True North just two years after their release of The Dissent of Man, an album which was thought to be their last.  Rumors began to circulate in the spring of 2012 that front man Greg Graffin and co-lyricist/guitarist Brett Gurwitz had rallied the troops and were recording new songs.  Said to have been inspired by Pennywise's latest release, All or Nothing, Bad Religion said they went into the studio with the mindset of writing a fast punk record, similar to 1987's Suffer and 1989's No Control; two of their most prized pieces of work.  The first single off of True North, "Fuck You," does have quite the old school Bad Religion sound to it, as expected.  All punk fans should be pumped for this one.  However with this excitement comes the high probability that this is, in fact, Bad Religion's last piece of work.  Happy 32 years, boys.

Artist: Atoms for Peace

Album: Amok

Release Date: February 25

Flea and Thom Yorke.  Need I say more?  Okay, here it goes... These two cats got together back in 2009 with three other dudes (who are all, in one way or another, connected to either the Red Hot Chili Peppers or Radiohead) and began playing live shows together.  Most of the music was originally written, but with the mega-status of both the Chili Peppers and Radiohead, no one expected anything other than just a couple of live shows and maybe some small time touring.  Atoms for Peace played a Coachella show and since then have not done much; well, at least not to my knowledge.  All that is about to change, though, with their February 25 release of Amok.  I guess there is quite a bit of experimental wackiness going on here (go figure) and also a hefty dose of Yorke's electronica talent.  In any event, I cannot wait for what this album could potentially do to the alternative/indie scene.  How many bass solos are going to be laid over an electronic computer?  How many times is Thom Yorke going to sing about shit I don't understand?  Should be fun.

Artist: Pusha-T

Album: My Name is My Name

Release Date: TBA

Signing to Kanye's G.O.O.D. Music record label, collaborations with Tyler, the Creator, and already a couple beefs with Lil Wayne, Pusha-T is a solo artist in the game to be reckoned with.  Woo!  This is hands down the album I am most looking forward to this year.  His first official mixtape, Fear of God, was produced with such high quality and was lyrically so genius that P came right back with his extended play, Fear of God II: Let Us Pray...another solo masterpiece.  Pusha will not hesitate to remind you of the love he has for his brother and co-Clipse member, Malice, but he is on a one man mission for right now and that does not end until his debut album, My Name is My Name, is released.  I saw this guy back in November of 2011 with Stoye and Pusha was already promoting it.  Expect all new production, all new lyrics, same old Push.  His mixtapes have had some okay features on them, but I expect this album to be one of the best hip-hop has to offer this year.  Rick Flair, na mean?  Also, as a quick aside, don't be surprised if we see a new Clipse single drop around the time Pusha-T's album is released, he enjoys shocking us.

CK7: Old School with New Moves (Sorry, Mr. Sargent)

To put it simply, I am an old soul.  I am bad with technology, so I limit the resources I use on a daily basis.  I never have enjoyed the sound of an mp3, so I prefer to buy vinyl in record stores.  I like the feeling of a newspaper in my hand, so online journalism will forever be lost in my mind.  And when it comes to sports, I am most comfortable following the schemes and plays the old legends drew up on chalk boards.  In basketball, I prefer man to man over any zone defense; in baseball, I respect Triple Crown winners more than saber metric statistic; and in football, most importantly, the low risk offense structure of a traditional quarterback who is simply afraid to turn it over and let's the defense do the rest puts me in a peaceful state of zen.  Do not make mistakes and capitalize on what the other team does wrong.  Simple, but now up for so much questioning.

The reason I site football as the "most important" is not because it is my favorite sport to watch (I love all equally, except hockey), but because my old soul/old school way of thinking was interrogated publicly on Saturday night at Candlestick Park.  Oh, and just to continue with the old soul way of thinking, I do not want to leave Candlestick either, Niners fans.  Anyway, as I was saying, Saturday night when the San Francisco 49ers man-handled the Aaron Rodgers led Green Bay Packers right out of the NFC Playoff picture, my beliefs were questioned to their core.  Colin Kaepernick, the new school, high risk, high reward quarterback of the San Francisco 49ers, put on a performance for the ages.  He battled back from a game opening pick-six, when I deemed the moment was "too big for this guy," and threw for over 250 yards and 2 TDs.  Ah, I almost forgot, he also ran for another 180 and another 2 TDs.... All while running the triple option offense.

So here is where I am wrong.  Colin Kaepernick, or CK7 to the new schoolers, takes a lot of risks.  That pick-6 could have forced the 49ers into a game of catch-up for the next 4 quarters.  It didn't.  One wild run without taking care of the ball could have led to fumbles and national embarrassment.  They didn't happen.  #7's taunting penalty could have been met with a ferocious "we're the Packers and you're a youngster" attitude from BJ Raji and Clay Matthews.  That didn't happen, either.  No, none of the new school maneuvers CK7 put on display came back to bite him in the ass once.  Why?  Because Colin Kaepernick is old school.  CK7 runs the triple option which is a new variation of one of the most old school schemes in football: the option.  He approaches each mistake with amnesic mentality, giving him the ability to brush off doubt and execute the very next chance he gets.  His new school persona?  The Milwaukee Brewers hat in the ESPN interview the day before a game against a team from Wisconsin, the swagger he brings with each big play, and new style of play are all new school elements of a guy who at the end of the day does just two things: competes and wins.  That, ladies and gentlemen, is as old school and as old soul as they come.

As a quick aside: I am not going to lie, watching Alex Smith lose his job over injury went against one of the most old school ideals - loyalty.  However, that was not on Colin.  Harbaugh, along with his astute coaching staff, made that decision.  So I think the resentment I felt toward Colin initially came out of sympathy for #11.  After all, Alex took us to the same place CK7 has gotten us, so I felt allegiance to a guy we all ragged on for the first six years of his career.  Plain and simple, I did not think Harbaugh's decision was the right one or the fair one.  This is the No Fair League, though, and since Jim Harbaugh watches this team 100 hours a week and we only watch for 3 1/2 hours a day, I figured he knew what he was doing.  We should have all let that go by now.  I am going to miss Alex.

So, where is this blog going other than a quick statistical recap from Saturday's beat down and admitting a new found trust in our quarterback?  Well, this is going to be the tough part.  This blog post is actually, at it's core, an apology to my friend, Craig Sargent.  For the latter part of my young adulthood, I have spent countless encounters arguing with Craig about every sports topic known to man.  Hall of Fame admittance.  Warriors basketball.  The legitimacy of Arizona State as an actual academic institution.  All of these things were fun, sometimes booze-infused banter.  I made some points, he made some points, but for the most part we came to see eye to eye on particular topics.  Then, all of a sudden, Alex Smith was concussed, Kaepernick tied the Rams, later lost to them, had some great moments, and Craig and I were knee deep in debate.

I could not stand Kaepernick.  For all reasons I mentioned above, I did not know what everyone saw in the guy.  I thought some of his decisions were senseless, his attitude overblown, and, to be perfectly honest, I did not think he was the guy for the job.  As I am sure you could guess, Craig felt completely different.  This was his guy from the draft.  "Not everyone's going to have a great game every time " said Craig, in reference to the Rams loss.  Craig had no problem quickly changing his profile picture to Colin Kaepernick right after Harbaugh announced that #7 would be the full-time starter.  What does this dude see, I would ask myself.  His stats were almost the same as Smith's, ratio-wise.  Was he to be the the quarterback of the 49ers future?  I thought no, hell no, in fact.  But old Craigy Sargent thought different.  Sunday night came and that fuckin' Sun Devil was right.  Kaepernick can flat ball. Not only can he ball, he seemed to only get better after the pick-6.  He ran, he threw, he taunted, he won.  The point total (45) was the third most in San Francisco 49ers history.  Wow.  I was wrong.

So Craig, here is my apology to you.  I cannot apologize to anyone else this blatantly because to be honest, no one has been riding Kaepernick's jock as hard as you have.  And the funny part is, that is actually a compliment.  While I can still say with great certainty that Alex Smith was robbed of a starting job, I can be a true man and admit when I was wrong.  Kaepernick was, and is, the answer for the San Francisco 49ers.  Sorry it took such a legendary playoff performance to finally see it.  But hey, CK7 is my Facebook profile picture now, so I guess that makes up for something?

Don't get too ahead of yourself, the Warriors still suck.

The Steroid Era: If You Ain't Cheatin', You Ain't Tryin'

I have gotten into this argument with almost every one who brings it up.  Friends, family members, former players, current players, coaches, and even the television.  It is one in which emotional support is closely tied and decisions are based off of different case studies, as it were.  It is: The Steroid Era and how it effects Hall of Fame Voting, most particularly in the case of Barry Bonds.  Today, January 9, 2013, players such as Barry Bonds, Craig Biggio, Sammy Sosa, Curt Schilling, and Roger Clemens sit on their first ever Hall of Fame Ballot.  All played in The Steroid Era, some labeled as cheaters, some slipped into the baseball ether.  Point is, Craig Beggio is going to be the only person on that ballot to reach the Hall (or, at least we thought).  You know it, I know it, deal with it.   "This person did that, so this guy here is okay" is basically the argument, though.  There is something very, very wrong with that.  One person's wrong does not make another person's wrong, right; right?  Well guess what, I will try to make as much sense of this as possible, but no one I have talked to agrees with me anyway, so here goes nothing.

Here in the Bay Area, we pride ourselves on being sports fans with great allegiance.  Every year the fog rolls into Candlestick, or another red-laced Major League Official baseball is tossed, Bay Area locals can be heard up into the wineries of Napa and down in the tech-labs of Silicon Valley.  Personally, I am one of the many who, at times, become too intoxicated with San Francisco sports pride.  I believe the 2010 San Francisco Giants team was the best in baseball history, I firmly think the fact Raiders fans believe they have a place in the Bay Area is flawed and inappropriate, and I, at a cellular level, will take the side of any Bay Area sports star.  Face it, we love our teams.  In fact, we love our teams so much we are willing to let a lot of what we believe in slide in order to see success.  That, my friends, is wrong.

We all have our personal opinions towards the topic of The Steroid Era in professional baseball.  However, before we get into opinions - which are the only thing people stand by anymore - let's look at some statistical information of "The Era."  In the early part of the 2000s, after the United States Congress' penalties for steroid possession became too severe, the MLB and then-commissioner Fay Vincent sent a memo to each organization that steroids would be added to the long list of "substances banned" by the league.  Around that time, the LA Times released an article where one journalist termed steroids as "the secret we're not supposed to talk about" and Tony Gwynn estimated 30% of professional players were using.  Oh, by the way, Jason Giambi denies using at all and praises Mark McGuire as a man who plays the right way.  That last part is actually true.

Fast forward to 2004.  This is when the MLB actually began testing individual players at "random" for steroid use.  In doing so, the league issued five levels of penalties that coincided with illegal usage: 15 games for first offense, 30 for second, 60 for third, an entire season for fourth, and a lifetime league ban for fifth and final offenses.  Seems like quite a few slaps on the wrist before an ass gets spanked, yes?  I digress, though, let's get back to the story... So, as we moved throughout the year of 2004, not too much happened.  Steroids were found on lesser known players, Ken Caminiti became the first star player to admit to using Performance Enhancing Drugs (PEDs), dating back to 1996, and for the most part, the MLB felt they had a stronghold - at least in the eyes of the public - over steroid usage and it's involvement with the game.

As 2004 turned to '05 and as 2006 stared us right in the face, a lot happened in baseball's fight against steroids.  There is no sense "boring" you with the facts, since none of you use them for the basis of your argument, but basically some guy named Kurt Randomski admitted twice to the IRS that he provided steroids to a number of players, mostly current, and that crazy bastard Jose Canseco began bomb-dropping on former teammates Rafael Palmero, Mark McGuire, Jason Giambi, and even Alex Rodriguez.  Those names should all shock you... naaat.  Yet here in the Bay Area, we were doing just fine.  No rumors, no names.  We were just some laid back dope smoking hippies, allegedly (I say allegedly for legal purposes).  The Giants finally made it back to a World Series in 2002, Barry Bonds was winning the MVP as if it was going out of style, and no one in a Giants uniform, other than Bobby Estalella (who?), had been caught with or had admitted to using steroids.

Let's make one thing crystal clear, though.  When Bonds hit 73 and Palmero was in front of the Grand Jury blatantly lying, if you were not feeling lucky it was not Bonds in that chair, you're lying just as boldly as Palmero was. Bonds' body had completely transformed.  He had turned into a fucking terminator.  There is no other way to put it, kids: he took steroids.  Barry was great, he was a legend, but it does not make what he did right...even if he is a Serra Man.  This is not a religion class or a morality lecture.  Frankly, everyone lies and cheats, but for us to not see what it will do to people's integrity - that is wrong.  People always fall back on, "well Barry never got caught... everybody's doing it... If you ain't cheatin', you ain't tryin.'"

Just when we thought Barry was out of the wreckage, had gotten past the dark cloud that Major League Baseball had let into the skies, two San Francisco Chronicle reporters, no less, break the story on what is now known simply as BALCO.  For those who were too young to spell steroid at the time or are too stupid to respect it's legitimacy now, the BALCO case took dropped bombs on the following: Jason Giambi, who finally admitted, Jeremy Giambi (not just a fictional character in Moneyball), Benito Santiago, and many others.  However, the most notable victim, Barry Bonds.  In this report, brought to the Grand Jury, Bonds had been receiving steroid injections from his old childhood friend and current weight trainer, Greg Anderson.  Bonds had already testified, claiming he did not take steroids, but now was under the apathetic point of view that "I took them, but I did not knowingly take them."  What?

It has been reported that during the official years of MLB's Steroid Era, which we can now timeline from 2001-2007, that almost 50% of players were doping, using PEDs, cheating.  It was a sad part of baseball.  The ramifications of that Era have had serious effects on how the athletic youth view steroids, enhancers, and cheating in general.  Now, with most of the key players involved with The Steroid Era out of baseball, their time to be judged has come.  However, what do we do as a sports society?  Pass it off as commonplace.  Claim that cheating has been happening in baseball since the very first pitch.  Fail to acknowledge how drastically warped and how statistically skewed baseball has forever become because of The Steroid Era.  It is simple-minded to relate steroids and PEDs to "greenies," amphetamines, or even the racial segregation that scared this country for so many years, but I cannot win that argument because it is all cheating.  Although I find PEDs to be in completely different category of cheating, all of it is wrong and the game has been tainted for many years.  From it's inception, actually.  That I do agree with.

So, forget the whole cheating thing.  As a society, we have come to understand accepting the idea of cheating is okay, always have, and we always will.  In life, I have not always been the most faithful man, so who am I to cast harm on a cheater?  And you're right, it's part of the game. We have to acknowledge that.  I do not want to be the one who hides from it...  The real problem here is the fan.  Fans have the ability to build someone up so high, to point of no feasible return, and when that person lets the fans down, there are two ways we handle it.  First, there is The Tiger Way.  The Tiger Way is our most natural instinct: we have loved an athlete for so long that when news of his wrong-doings come out they are so sick, so disgusting, so evil, that everyone wants to root against him.  I, myself, have hated Tiger for awhile, but I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy a classic fist pump from time to time.  The second way, is The Barry Bonds Way.  This reaction is much more difficult, because he is not completely at fault, kind of.  You see, Barry connects with so many people.  He is a high school friend, a local celebrity, a man who brought never-ending glory to San Francisco Giants baseball.  Barry has done so much for this Area of the country.  Yes, he has done so much well that we cannot accept what he has done wrong.

As fans, we need to see the big picture.  We cannot let a childhood dream get in the way of recognizing the truth of a situation.  Here is what I propose, place the scandal next to the records for those who you wish to see in the Hall of Fame.  You want Sosa?  You'll get the corked bat.  You want Palmero?  You get his "lying to a grand jury" tape played on repeat.  You want Clemens?  You get a picture of Brian McNamee.  You want Bonds?  You get a BALCO needle.

Here are the facts:

Barry Bonds is one of the best baseball players to ever play the game.  He is the all-time home run champion with 762.  He is a member of the 500/500 club.  He is a 7x MVP.  He is an 8x Gold-Glover.  He is a 14x All-Star.  Many of his records will never be touched.

He knowingly took steroids.  He took steroids with the help of his childhood friend, Greg Anderson (who is in federal prison).  He lied to the United States Government.  He was indicted on 3 charges of perjury.  He knows what really happened, but is not man enough to sit down and tell all.

We have to take the good with the bad.  If we are going to let Barry Bonds, or any other Hall of Fame Candidate in, we must post the records with the cheating that went along with them.  All of it must be on display.  Would you still want Clemens, Bonds, and Palmero in the Hall of every piece of their scandals were printed next to their shining moments?  I am not one to judge what you want.

You don't want to believe it's terrible, so you concoct a story that helps you sleep.  Wake up, this is the worst it will ever be.