New Years Resolutions - A Reality

I'm sick of New Years resolutions. OK, I take that back; in theory, resolutions aren't so bad - but what people come up with... UGH!

It may surprise many of you, but I go to a gym. Normally the equipment-to-patron ratio is somewhere in the 30 to 1 range, but since the first of January it's been more like 1 to 56,000. It's worse than a crowded elevator. I used to warm up with arm circles before bench pressing, now I can't even lay down on the bench in fear that I'll get trampled.

And it's all because of New Years resolution.

On average, the "New Years" crowd outweighs the regulars by about 12 belt notches. And regardless of what they think, peddling a recumbent stationary bike for 15 minutes with a towel around their neck at level 2 isn't going to significantly reduce their belly (which acts as a convenient shelf for their fitness drinks).

I'm not too worried - the crowd has already died down by about 30 percent and it's only the second week in January - but it does make me think about two things.

1) Gyms must make 75 percent of their yearly revenue between Jan. 1 and Jan. 5, and

2) Why do people conjure such grandiose resolutions, when the odds are clearly stacked against them.

Don't get me wrong, I think it would be great if the guy in the sweaty tank top kept at his fitness routine. But odds are that he'll be back to double cheeseburgers and VH1 before Valentine's Day. It's almost as if people say to themselves: "What's the hardest thing I could possible force myself to do?" and turn that into their New Years goal.

Maybe they should take baby steps. Instead of saying "I'm going to loose 250 pounds," sweaty tank top guy should start with "I'm going to shave the back of my shoulders."

Of course losing weight is only one example of doomed-to-fail New Years resolutions, but you get my point.

But the way I see it, if you're going to come up with a New Years resolution that you'll likely never fulfill, why limit it to weight loss? (or spending less money, paying off debts, etc.). You might as well go for the gusto and dream big, really BIG.

In this spirit, here are a couple of resolutions I came up with for 2006:

1) Learn to breathe underwater,
2) Ride a dinosaur,
3) Develop cold fusion,
4) Go on a date with Tea Leoni,
5) Cure cancer, AIDS, and the common cold,
6) Become the starting quarterback for the Denver Broncos,
7) Fire Donald Trump,
8) Pass through a black hole,
9) Hunt a vampire,
and
10) Ride a stationary bike until I lose weight.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find my tank top.

Rock on.

How To Move - A Complete Guide

Have you ever noticed that the process of moving seems to evoke a sense of mass empathy usually reserved for such pains as a solid kick to the crotch? Even if you're relocating from the bowls of inner-city Detroit to a plush castle sitting on 500 beach-front acres in the tropical Caribbean, the thought of loading up a U-Haul with your entire collection of earthly possessions (and then unloading them) is as attractive as taking a shoulder tackle from Dick Butkis.

Believe me, we've all been there. Well most of us anyway. I'm sure there are the select few (read: Paris Hilton) who, instead of moving to a new house, just buy a new one to 'add to the collection' each time they step into a new zip code. But for the rest of us, moving is as inevitable as death, taxes, and having your favorite NFL team blacked out during the only game you're actually able to watch all season.

I'm no stranger to moving my stuff from one place to another. In fact, as a proud pick-up truck owner, I'm no stranger to moving other people's stuff either. And in my typical style, I'm glad to offer my expertise with you.

Step One: Find a new place to move into. This may seem obvious, but you'd look pretty funny driving a yellow Ryder truck around in circles for the rest of your life. Speaking of a truck...

Step Two: Rent a big truck. As a generally rule, you'll want one that is just small enough to not fit everything. This affords you the God-given opportunity to pawn your old recliners on your neighbors. This step can be omitted if you know anybody - and I repeat ANYBODY - that owns a pick-up truck.

Step Three: Call in all your friends to help you. Especially those friends that you blew off when THEY were moving. In fact, most social scientists agree that if it weren't for moving we'd eventually lose contact with everybody...

Step Four: Load all of your stuff into the truck. I really can't offer any useful advice here other than to use a lot of grease.

Step Five: Drive to your new house. See, step one WAS important. Otherwise, this is where you circle around a randomly. I find left turns make you feel like an Indy Race Car Driver.

Step Six: Dump the stuff out of the truck. Now that I think about it... Dump... Truck... Maybe I'm on to something here.

Step Seven: Enjoy a job well done. Bask in the refreshing glory of an ice cold beverage. Don't even worry about your stuff that's sitting out in a pile in your front yard.

And that about wraps it up. Hope you've all learned something valuable: NEVER buy a pickup truck.

Drum Majors, Are Your Marching Bands Ready?

"Thunder In Boise" is what the promoters used to describe a Drum Corps International (for short: "DCI", for long: "A large group of extremely ambitious marching band geeks able to recite every line Mr. Spock had in the second season of the original Star Trek, gleefully making noise and moving in an organized fashion") tournament held on the blue turf of the Boise State Stadium last Tuesday. I'm hardly one to belittle marching bands, after all I did participate in the Keith Stein Blue Thunder Marching Band all through my tenure at Boise State University, but as this was a legitimate competition I find it necessary to let you all in on how I judged the evenings competitors.

Performance Number One: The Actual Program:
It's not that generic astrobright programs have been overdone, it's just that - well, they ARE overdone. I know the stuff is super cheap, but at least make an effort to be original. Honestly, I've seen more creativity in a cinder block wall. But as a redeeming quality the times were scheduled down to the minute (i.e. the Oregon Crusaders were scheduled to perform from 7:57 to 8:14). Too bad the very first act started seven minutes late and completely destroyed all the effort put into my bright yellow observer guide.

Grading: A+ for planning, F- for visual creativity. Overall: C.

Performance Number Two: The National Anthem:
I'm torn on this one for two reasons. One: the anthem was performed by a very talented woman I've known since my early days of college; but two: it took more time to get through the song than it did for America to win the Revolutionary War. I don't know when it became cool to drag that tune out for as long as humanly possible, but we experienced two lunar eclipses between the first and second stanzas alone.

Grading: A for talent/execution, D for arrangement, A+ for visual beauty. Overall: B.

"Spokane Thunder":
They say it's always best to perform first, so you won't be judged based on someone's previous performance. Whoever said that obviously wasn't there on Tuesday. I thought thunder was supposed to be loud? These guys couldn't have sounded any quieter if they were stalking an antelope in the forrest. On top of that, there were no cymbals. NO CYMBALS! Cymbals are the quintessential aspects of any marching band. A marching band without cymbals is like a DVD player without a TV: useless!

Performance: F, Fancy formations: C, Cymbals: F-. Overall: F.

"Oregon Crusaders":
The most ironic aspect of this group's performance was that they played Middle Eastern music and acted out scenes from what looked like Disney's "Aladdin," despite being named after a group of Western militants intent to eradicate the Arabs from the Holy Land. Good idea: spend hundreds of years slaughtering Muslims then play their songs in a Marching Band Competition. Not to mention another lack of cymbals.
Performance: C, Multi-Ethnic Harmony: F-, Cymbals: F-. Overall: F.

"Vanguard Cadets":
Finally a band with marching cymbal players! And on top of that they swung them around better than their their flag team girls could ever dream of, despite the fact that they were dressed like Robbin Hood's Merry Men.

performance: B-, Probable Archery Skills: A-, Cymbals: A+. Overall: B+.
(See, cymbals go a long way).

"Seattle Cascades":
These guys had a show reminiscent of every underground Indie play you could possibly imagine. There was a narrator saying such phrases as: "Construct a flying machine, a machine that can fly." (A bit of a statement of redundancy statement - get it!?!). The colorguard gals were dressed up with costumes left over from Logan's Run. In addition there were air raid sirens, giant geometric shapes made from PVC pipe, and huge model airplanes. This thing was weirder than any Stanly Kubrik flick. BUT, I do have two buddies in this band, one on a bass drum, the other on the... CYMBALS.

Performance: A+, Pink Floyd Weirdness: A+, Cymbals: A+. Overall: A+.
(As a performer, it helps to know the judge... WINK!).

"Phantom Regiment":
Apparently these were the heavyweights of the night, and they certainly didn't lack in sound. However, they played old Gershwin tunes and dressed like they were still smack dab in the Roaring Twenties. Honestly, there are more people living in the past in this band than at all modern Woodstocks and every Renaissance clubs combined. One woman in front of me wore a shirt that said, "Be Afraid of the Dark - Phantom Regiment." True enough, I was afraid of dark that night - but only because I thought they were going to go into another song. With over 150 members, you'd think that at least one of the would know how to play the cymbals...

Performance: A, modernism of Costumes: F, Cymbals: F-. Overall C.


And that concluded the evenings festivities. In case anyone was wondering how the real judges scored them, here's the official report card:

Spokane Thunder: 56/100, 5th place
Oregon Crusaders: 70/100, 4th place
Vanguard Cadets: 76/100, 2nd place
Seattle Cascades: 72/100, 3rd place
Phantom Regiment: 84/100, 1st place

What does that say about society when a low/mid B actually makes you the grand champion?

Rock On

The Erinys

It isn't everyday that I'm excited to blab about opera music, but this is a big exception. Last weekend was the performance of "The Erinys", an hour and a half live production of storytelling through an intricate weaving of acting and music. What made The Erinys different - or at least worthy of my adoration - was a combination of three things:

1) The music rocked (Literally! The background musicians wailed through an impressive backline of Marshall amplifiers).
2) My own brother wrote, produced, and arranged the entire show AND the full blown studio recorded album that accompanies it.
3) I played guitar!

Matt, my brother, had been working on this project for darn near two years, and it was amazing to watch it really come together. Although I sport an often debilitating sense of optimism, even I was suprised by the event's success. The actors were outstanding, the singers were incredible, and the band flat out rocked.

We performers really hope that The Erinys isn't over, especially after the tremendous reaction the show recieved by both the immediate audience AND the press. If in fact the show does go on, I HIGHLY encourage anybody within driving distance to make it out, you won't be disapointed.

In the meantime, the studio album version (which, coincidently, was the original project - the live show was born from it, not vica-versa like commonly believed) is slated to be realeased in early May. Believe me, this isn't a typical "Local Band" style CD; this was recorded in a full blown professional recording studio by accomplished engineers. It was mastered by Bernie Grundman studios, who's client list includes some MAJOR musical acts along the lines of Dr. Dre, Jannet Jackson, The Killers, etc... The Album is professionally packaged with awesome artwork by local artists (directed by Matt). The talent of the musicians is absolutely mind-blowing. But most important, the songs are great!

Don't take my word for it, check it out at www.theerinys.com.

I know most of you are expecting me to make this situation humorous, as is my M.O. Sorry, but I've dedicated this post soley to give credit due to my brother's efforts. Surely I'll bring this topic up again with a much more light hearted tint, but for now I just want ya'll to understand how impressed I am with the entire project.

Excellent work, Matt. We are all very proud of you.



Rock on.

The Mark of the Butterfly

I ordered a Butterfly Knife over the weekend. You know, the kind that you flip around in some sort of gymnastic fashion in an effort to give the "I'm so dangerous that I don't care if I cut off all my fingers with this contraption" look. Although they were probably standard issue for any street gang during the Eighties, I don't think anybody has actually bought one in the last ten years. The printed invoice even said: "Thank you for your purchase - welcome to 1987."

Why I decided to order a butterfly knife astounds me even now. I'm not a knife guy, I don't like violence, and I've never been in a single situation where any knife would have come in handy. It certainly isn't anything practical; nobody would order a juicy T-Bone at Black Angus and say "Make the steak medium-rare, potatoes on the side, oh, and hold the steak knife, I've got something better."

As cool as they may have been a few decades ago, rarely did they grace the silver screen as a "Whoa this guy is a bad mother, don't mess with him" kind of weapon. But imagine if Crocodile Dundee would have said, "That's not a knife... This is a knife" and proceeded to flip his butterfly knife around for five minutes, long enough to bore his would-be attacker into leaving to find a victim with less of an accent.

Or imagine if Dirty Harry delivered his famous quote: "Do you feel lucky? Punk? Well, do you?" While mercilessly chopping his own fingers into oblivion in an effort to flip his shiny blade around.

The only people that actually used these knives were the unworthy enemy ninja clans that systematically got beaten up by Chuck Norris. It almost makes you wonder if spinning them emits a high pitch frequency that attracts action heroes to come beat the living snot out of you.

Like I said, I'm not a knife guy. I'm not any kind of weapon guy. I don't own any knives, guns, whips, stun guns, or anthrax. My armament collection consists of a .38 caliber stapler and a deadly assortment of ninja throwing socks. I have no idea what I'm going to do with a butterfly knife after I get tired of shredding my fingers into stumps.

Perhaps I'll frame it on my office wall underneath the quotation: "This is the knife that caused Jean-Claude Van Damme to throw me through a window." It should make for an interesting conversation piece, so long as everybody realizes that I'm one bad mother, don't mess with me...

How To Sell Cellular Phones

As anyone in the retail business will tell you, a career in sales makes for a great combination of interesting stories and small paychecks. They'll probably also tell you that selling is an art - what they won't tell you is that it's the kind of art that you can buy at Walmart under the guise of "Big Mouth Billy Bass."

I sell cellular phones, which means I can provide an inside scoop into the retail sales process... it also means I cry myself to sleep.


Step One: Dress for Success
Proper work attire is key to being a good salesman, so it's best to find the nicest shirt and tie that you have, press them to perfection, then spend a good five minutes making sure that you've got them tucked into your pants in a way that won't "Ruin the lines." I don't really know what "Lines" are in clothes - with the exception of the barcodes on the tags - but apparently it's important to not ruin them. I've found it's best to iron your clothes while you're wearing them to make them look crisp, my suggestion is to use a good steam iron on your shirts, a dry iron on your pants, and good Hickory stick to bite down on to offset the pain.

Step Two: Show up
Perhaps the biggest key to racking in great sales is to show up to work. I'm still unconvinced, but they did do a study, and who can argue with those?

Step Three: Dress for Success part II
Roll your sleeves up, loosen your tie, and untuck half of your shirt. You want to look like you've been so busy selling stuff that you've had to compromise your attire just to deal with customers by the thousands. Having a coworker punch you in the face is a nice finishing touch.

Step Four: Customers
ALERT! People are coming your way, with what appears to be a look of "I want to buy something from you right now!" Stay calm and don't panic, they'll be able to smell your fear. If you have a name tag, your best bet is to rip it off and act like you're just a customer yourself. Toss out phrases like "Sheesh, these guys don't have anything," or "This place is a dump, I'm going somewhere else." With any luck they'll pass you up and you won't even have to make eye contact.

If for some reason the customers see through this, your next option is to start speaking a foreign language, preferably one that doesn't actually exist, while pointing at your genitals.

Step Five: Lunch
You've undoubtedly worked up quite an appetite with all of this dressing up and avoiding people, time for a little food break. I find it best to take these about 15 minutes after showing up, and about every 30 minutes thereafter.

Keep in mind that under no circumstances should you EVER pay for your own lunch, or even eat with your coworkers. You can try the usual means of litigating money from your peers, such as: "A refridgerator just fell on my brother - can I borrow some money?" or the more popular, "Remember that time you got herpes from the one-legged prostitute from Guatamalla? Well I do, and I need five bucks." If you come up short, just 'borrow' some products as you leave and sell them to pawn shops along the way.

The important thing to remember when borrowing money is to never mention "I'll pay you back," that way they can't hold it over your head. If it slips out accidently, just don't actually re-compensate them and you'll be fine.

Step Six: The Attitude of a Winner
Stay positive, find your happy zone and stay there. I find the best zones are usually in the break room near the microwave.

Step Seven: Inter-Office Competition
Don't be fooled into actually working because your employer is offering killer bennifits to the "Winner" of some contest, because these aren't going to be anything you'll actually like anyway. Think: "Hey Bob, you sold more phones than anybody in the company last month, here's a three-sizes-too-small t-shirt with our company logo on it... but remember you can't wear t-shirts to work, (wink)."

You are better off by simply mocking those that actually take such competitions seriously; or better yet, sleep with their wives.

Step Eight: Going Home
It's best to leave at least an hour early, preferably when a frantic coworker asks you an important question. Just say, "Good question! Wait right here, I'll find out the answer and be right back."

Step Nine: Wash, Rinse, Repeat
Wake up the next morning, spray your underwear with cologne, and repeat steps one through eight.


Rock on.

A Year In Review

Recently I've had quite a few requests to mention what I've been doing with my life. Admitedly I'm not the greatest 'keep in touch' kind of person, so in accordance with the whole New Years thing I figgured I'd jot down a quick summary of Lee's 2004.

January: With the exception of my Dad's birthday, January has never really been anything spectacular in my mind. In fact, it's kind of a depressing month when you think about it. It's much like a bouncer at a night club at 2:00am - an undeniable reality check that the holiday fun times are over and now it's time to stop having fun and get back to our normal, hum-drum lives.

Febuary: What's up with a month that can't even decide how many days it should have in it? The only saving grace this month has is my mother's birtday, which is smack dab on Valentine's Day.

March: Yay - March Madness in College basketball. Oh wait, I don't like basketball, it's typically as much fun as watching paint dry. One nice thing about the basketball season is that I play the drum set for the Boise State teams; the bad news: March wraps up my final season at Boise State, and thusly might mark the end of my days as a drummer. On a positive note my old band, Danger Baby, talked about getting back together as a four piece and even wrote a couple of songs in preparation for the 'come back'.

April: At this point I was wrapping up my final semester as a Grad Student at Boise State. I finished an internship with the Health Department and was taking care of all the loose ends. Unfortunately, I ended up dealing with a fat retarded (but tenured) professor that gave me a "C" for my hard earned internship on account of being late - even though I had the paper with her handwritten deadlines (that shows I was actually EARLY getting my assignment in) as evidence. Instead of admiting that she made a mistake she handed me a less than desireable grade... and probably celebrated by eating a box of doughnuts.

May: I Graduated with my Master's of Public Administration. That's pretty much it for this month.

June: My roomates and I all moved to south Boise. Kelly bought the place and invited all of us to move in with him and keep the same roomate group going. It's a killer house, lot's of fun times.

July: This marked the last time I worked for Boise State as the Aquatics Coordinator. Over the summer I ran a learn to swim program for kids, which wrapped up at the end of this month. Boise State is now officially in my rear view mirror.

August: I spent the better part of this month living off my Boise State pension and looking for job. The job market in public administration was pretty slow, so on a whim I decided to take an entry level position selling cellular phones; which is ironic in and of itself because I really HATE cellular phones.

September: A crappy month spent selling even crappier cellular phones. On a (REALLY) good note I managed to get my hands on a sideline pass to the Boise State home football games, which I still to this day treasure like a pirate map.

October: Halloween.

November: Thanksgiving.

December: The most exciting news all year, some pro-level musicians in Portland, Oregon, invited me to play drums for them. It does require moving, but it's an offer I simply can't refuse. Now it's just a matter of lining up the ends to get over there and start rocking. I also spent a couple of days in Memphis, TN to watch Boise State play in the Liberty Bowl (once again with a free pass, plane trip, food, and lodging courtesy of the Kieth Stein Blue Thunder Marching Band). Oh yeah, Christmas was also fun.


And that pretty much wraps 'er up. On with 2005...


Rock on