There will be bands, Paul, other people, stuff and things. See you there, more info here.

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I go shopping for yogurt and bread buy way too many things decide that I need to go green and buy reusable bags because they will fit more in them and completely forget yogurt, schedule servicing for the Mini, wearing the Persol’s constantly, wandering through art stores, driving laps at the Long Beach airport, watching the Discovery channel all day expanding my knowledge on Egypt, drinking wine on a Tuesday night, keeping secrets, drinking wine on a Monday night, being politically active on the internet, not being shocked when people say they will call and don’t, missing people, dealing with an insane 2 day window graphic installation at work, adding icons to my iPhones home screen, realising I suddenly have a Converse “collection”, cleaning out the freezer, wondering what percentage of people use Q-Tips for the proper use which is not cleaning your ear canals, missing the entire final four save for the last 2 minutes of the championship game and lastly, offending the French.

None of that is in chronological order, so just enjoy it as the pile of letters it is and move on.

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Kyle, my flatmate, had the brilliant idea of a little drunken Rock Band’ing on a Tuesday night. He got this idea at Yard House Happy Hour, I obliged. I had a lot of catching up to do, so upon my arrival it was pretty much beer in hand for the rest of the night, on one occasion it was 2 beers in hand and being thankful for mic stands. So we began the rock, I believe the first song I sang I got a 67% on. Basically that means it was horrible, I have no recollection of what song it was. By 9PM we were both good and buzzed, and performing at a level unknown to most. 199% on Blink (it’s possible, when your guitarist fails at the outro of the first 100% run through of the song), 100% on Wonderwall, even >90% runs on Black Sabbath. We were legends, we were being considered for Hall of Fame status, and then it happened.

Kyle Davidson

“How cool would it be if James Van Der Beek just came over?”

There you have it Ladies and Gentleman, the strangest words ever uttered.

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I dream for success, for a certain level of fame so I can ignore it all with humility, for some plaque somewhere to loosely honour something I was vaguely affiliated with. They dream of the pasts they never had, the futures they never hope come, and the now, which most certainly cannot be their reality. So they slouch it off as they drive on sidewalks, with reckless abandon. Their cars are electric wheelchairs, their every day is some quartered version of the Long Beach Grand Prix.

Sometimes they yell at you from the sidewalks, the sidewalks which you cannot dare co-exist on. This is their town, they saw it broken, and it’s phoenix like rise will on day push them out, and only their stories told to switched off ears will remember how they went out kicking and screaming. They are there buying scratchers with change, every day buying scratchers with change. They have to play to win, and they need a few more addictions.

I have spent time with a few, the shoeless one, who always sprinted into my vicinity to ask for money after I foolishly handed out twenties one day. He used to live around here, his shoes are probably still there, his ex-girlfriend is still there, she is the one who got him thrown in jail. He grew to recognize my truck, I sold my truck, after several rebuttals of lies that I had no cash our friendship was renewed. He was moving on, he had found a job, he was finally getting back to where he had been on the edge of this place. He was never one of them at all.

They, being them, are a friendly lot mind you. They often wander up to use your shower, which is perfectly acceptable in what this town once was. Now it’s gates that actually lock half of the month, and intercom systems legible to all but without any connection to my name. Sometimes they even interact with you in an attempt to embrace the new, as I scouted out the location of the rest of us one of them saw me, and he answered back. I never asked him anything, but he answered “I’m doing good my man, keep on”. And you wonder if he felt like I was intimidated by him, like the new was scared the old would somehow violate the reality that he exists in. I never said a word.

I saw a man walking down the sidewalk at 4 AM, plain as can be, like he belonged there, like it was his normal stroll into the office, like it wasn’t 4 AM at all. It was, and it was bright as day at 4 AM, and I have no idea why this man was out, but I have no idea why I was awake to watch this through the window. They dream of things I was disappointed by, of things I forgot about, of things I wasted. They dream about things that I would never desire, they should never dream to be me.

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For those who aren’t familiar with Kyle, he; is my roommate, the other half of the “Disneyland creepy running guys duo”, a fellow connoisseur of sourdough and sour balls, a fellow AI alumni (not working in the field), inventor of some amazing t-shirt slogans you don’t yet know about, one of the only persons I know who never went to a prom of any sort*.

Everyone should go harass Kyle until he decides to blog again.

* This is totally true, and I am still trying to make it my mission to throw Kyle the Senior Prom he never had. Who is with me?

Edit: So I wrote this a few days ago, to post date my life so to speak, and low and behold Kyle goes and makes a blog post. Kind of stole my thunder, but the blog is pretty great and has even inspired me to tell one of the many “BRO!” stories, so look for that soon.

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Paul G. Maziar

“Banning AIM is like so ’01.”

That however is a different story, for a different day. Paul wrote a book of words called What It Is: What It Is, and the best way to describe it is to write down your train of thought while your mind is reflecting upon a million things at once, while reveling in a few thousand other things, all while processing your immediate surroundings far too intricately, only more intelligent than all of that.

The following is either an excerpt from his new book, something he randomly emailed me because I sent him a picture I took of him in Mexico, or all of the above:

Mexico City Blues

Half-sunken steamboat with barking, oofing sea lions—all rusted, green and dirty-white
in the trash-workman haze off the coast of Mexico. While panicking in the midst of
crowds of average Americans and foreign stewards, quieted the too-fast breathing and
thought of my timing-life from well-knowing intent—I became momentarily comforted in
my own decisions. We can kick our bodies to the curb and wonder why later—in any
clothes upon any soil—or wash our faces with humble hands, then paint the fences of all
the blasphemous buildings—or souls really never are confined. – December 17th.

December 18th and Lindsay feels drunk on herself in our rooms on the ship—with T-Rex
on the speakers—lulling through the hours with others—other consciousnesses spilling
into her head, but she’s sweeter than she is dirty, and thirty minutes in the shower keeps
her spinning on the slow-side.

We spent 30 minutes in our separate showers contemplating and both came out in
stripes.

A tiny white bird, anonymous and swooping finds the only thing to do—one thing to
suffice and that’s finding food.

Are we the only beasts on earth who poison ourselves mostly out of haphazard
circumstance?

You can find out more about Paul’s book, which is a collaboration with Matt Maust (of the Cold War Kids) supplying visuals, at the MySpace and you can order the book from Write Bloody directly. I also recommend heading over to the MySpace and grabbing the audio recording “Lost In Begginings” which is Paul reading over some music by one of the guys from Goddamn Electric Bill, it’s quite a great introduction.

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President of the United States of America*:
Republican Nomination: Mitt Romney
Democratic Nomination: Barack Obama

California Propositions:
Proposition 91: Yes (For humours sake, for those not in the know: The proponents of Prop 91 urge you to vote No)
Proposition 92: Yes
Proposition 93: No
Proposition 94: Yes
Proposition 95: Yes
Proposition 96: Yes
Proposition 97: No (They have “Hot Water”, I don’t trust them… only kidding, it’s a Yes for me)

* I also like to call this country Uniteria, because we act like we are the only thing in America that matters, we aren’t, or are we. At least Canada (dot) com gives you free email, we just give people pure hits.

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Let’s travel back in time to highlight some finer moments at The Prospector; Kyle and Randall playing “bridge the table” with empty glasses, someone demanding we all do shots of Jager and me pouring mine on the floor (where all Jager belongs), Kyle and Randall throwing silverware at booths, an endless number of ridiculously amazing bands playing in a room that fits about 12 people legally, and hanging out with (insert Celebrity here). Now all this leads you to a theory we have about The Prospector; You can’t not get drunk. It’s pretty amazing really, and we have tested this theory dozens of times, and failed every last effort.

So last Friday, the 12th of January, was an evening much like any other at The Prosp’. I was constantly trying to convince Brandon that he needed to do “Jager Bahhhms” because they are “Wicked Retahhhded”, but that was really just to honour Craig (And if Craig should somehow find this blog, just know I hate you and your love affair with Tom Brady, at least for this week). The main purpose of this night was Karaoke, that’s latin I believe, and the main purpose of Karaoke is to bring it all, or just don’t bother. Now my regular Karaoke songs include “Wonderwall” and “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling” with a few deviations thrown in now and then (Boys II Men on Valentines Day at Big Wangs, anyone?), however I wasn’t gonna disrespect Kyle by performing either of the regulars without the other half of the duo.

I was feeling risky tonight, so I asked Lindsay for a suggestion, she replied “You know what song I always say is a great Karaoke song, and no one ever agrees with me?”, and I was into it, whatever it was. I told her to write it down, put my name on it, turn it in and I’ll sing it, at some point in time she let me know it would be Garth Brooks stalwart hit “I’ve Got Friends In Low Places”. So the rest of the night in preparation I sang my heart out, you see I have sang “IGFILP” before, circa 2001 at Poway Bowl, after already Karaoking until 1AM at Sliders, and I know that this Garth gem requires some rasp and deepness in a voice you can only accomplish by almost losing your voice completely.

If you weren’t there, you missed out, we nailed it. People were screaming, old guys were telling me I was everything they ever wanted to grow up to be, Brandon still wouldn’t do a Jager Bomb, a pregnant woman decided to name her unborn child Garth Randall Whateverherlastnameis, and other things someone would probably make up in their blog to impress you, but are in fact my reality. It was simply one of those nights you will always look back on and wish you had 3232989 pictures of, thankfully due to people I know we do have 3232989 pictures, I will spare you though and merely share 2.

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It was incredibly amazing to see Chad again and we always spend hours discussing the days of old, and how things used to be. It made me realise that we are both really happy to be where we are right now, no matter what trials come daily and what more is sure to come. I also have come to understand that Bank of America has way cooler ATM’s than WaMu. For those of you not in the know, Chad has a company called P is for Panda that is doing things different.

It is because of these earlier events that I announce my full fledged support for Vinyl, and eliminate buying cd’s if the vinyl comes with the digital downloads. I don’t know how I was missing out on this for so long, but I was. I’m addicted, and you should join me. Is Vinyl better for the environment or something? Maybe I can go green?

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So after shopping we were driving home and began discussing playing Dashboard Confessional for various reasons I cannot confirm nor deny. I agreed with the selection as long as it was “Vindicated”, and Kyle stated that if that was off the new album he didn’t have it. When I informed him it was off the Spiderman 2 Soundtrack, he affirmed he didn’t have that either. Of course, not one to miss a perfectly set up moment I yelled out “iPod Emergency”, and with a few rips of velcro we had “Vindicated” flowing through the speakers. Now how that lead into “Screaming Infidelities” being sung at the top of our lungs, well that I just really can’t put my finger on.

The moral of this story is either “One iPod is never enough” or “Don’t mess with Access-ories”.

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Ice Cube’s new film “First Sunday” is shooting on my street. Incidentally, according to IMDB, I moved to Baltimore, MD. Baltimore is a gorgeous city on the shore of the Pacific… oh wait, that’s Long Beach. Anyway, Ice Cube rolled into town and is making some comedy about a crime inside a Church. Unfortunately, this isn’t gonna come close to the greatest “crimedy” (get it, a crime and comedy?) inside a Church ever, Sister Act. Honestly, what could? Fortunately this crimedy takes place on a corner that has a Church and a Liquor Store, which should bring a whole new dimension to the Church crimedy genre we all have come to love.

Kyle and I jumped a few barricades to bring you all some images of the set:

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I got over the $1200.00 bike when I realised I would be scared to take it out in public, so I decided that I should purchase an urban bike. You know the kind that bike messengers ride? I would go urban biking (yeah i make up a lot of urban ______ sports, but that’s what we do here in the Arts District), I would ride at night and rule the streets.

Fortunately I have a former professional mountain biker in my friend Jordan Percy (who rides his bike to work every day, and once rode from Pacific Beach in San Diego, all the way up to Oceanside just because he was bored), and fortunately Jordan paid us a visit last week. We took some time out of our interviews and meetings to discuss my bike situation with Jordan.

Jordan shot down my urban bike idea in seconds, claiming those mountain/bmx hybrids were for adults who rode bmx bikes as kids and want to pretend like they still can so they get an urban bike. I tried to explain that I am exactly that person and have no issues with it, but he demanded we go another route. Jordan then suggested a fixed gear bike. I being a good friend have listened to Jordan talk about these bikes before and know I want no part in a bike that you have to peddle to slow down. I immediately deny him, and go back to the urban bike.

Jordan finally asks me why I want an urban bike and why I was so fixated on the $1200.00 bike, so I tell him the most honest 2-drink answer ever, “to intimidate people.” Now I’m (not yet) a cyclist, but I feel intimidation is a big part of cycling. I need to look like someone who rules the streets at night in the cutthroat world of urban biking.

Jordan finally convinces me to let him build me a perfect single speed bike from vintage road bike parts and some sort of cut off bars that will look mountain bike-esque but he assures me will still intimidate. We have not yet set a bike building day, but you shall be updated… and you have been warned.

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And the list of things not taken/left behind; Holy Bible (Must have been religious), Brand New Burton Snowboard Boots, Marie Calendar’s hat (this was not present before the break in, more on this later), Alex Rodriguez Bat (Must be a Dodger fan), Soccer Ball and cones (Hmmm, where to go with this one… what kind of person would leave a soccer ball behind?), $4.28 in change, Flashlight/Jumper Cables/Reflective Triangle from Emergency Kit, Nordstrom Bag, Most things with my address/phone number on them.

My Truck is downstairs at the car wash being detailed. I felt so dirty just being in it on the drive to work that I got here, threw out everything that was in it, and took it straight to them. Hopefully I will feel better about it after it doesn’t feel/look so violated.

I will be hunting persons who work at Marie Calendar’s for the the rest of my life. If you ever see a cook at MC’s rocking a ModAmuse shirt and my Tom Ford’s, call me… I’ll come right over and show him why he should have taken the ARod Special first hand.

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No high speed here, the person is obeying the limit, they simply don’t have license plates. The newscasters have assured me, after they told me about how he drove through my neighborhood several times, that it is definitely a DUI suspect, then definitely a 187 suspect, then definitely a hit and run, and now it’s a code four suspect. They finally got him in Whittier, but it should be noted he was driving erratically, lost a wheel and hit a fence.

You might be wondering why the LBPD didn’t manage to get the guy when he was over here. Well it should be known they are very busy blocking off streets so the CBS’ “Criminal Minds” crew can safely blow up the intersection of 4th and Atlantic.

it has now been twenty-seven minutes of a car chase, zero minutes of what is happening in our world. I suppose the fact we would displace the half hour of a daily recap with this is some apocalyptic sign, though I’m not sure what would have been shown would have really been much more enlightening. At least we still got the weather.

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