Mountain Dan.

Well, it's the day after Christmas and I've been doing a lot of thinking. That's what I do. I've seen more negativity this year than I can remember seeing in years past, which is unfortunate. In my last post I described a little about how I view and appreciate the holidays, and there has been so much this year that has tried to take that away from me, in a spiritual sense, because that is what makes Christmas so special...the spirit.

Yes, I work in retail. I have for some time now, but not necessarily in an environment like the one I'm currently in. Up until the job I'm at now, I worked in an outdoor atmosphere. Sure, we sold nice apparel and had to deal with some of the craziness that accompanies the holidays in the retail world. But the joint I'm at now is very similar to working in a mall store. Yes, we do carry some outdoor gear, but it gets completely ignored at Christmas and the coats with the gigantic logos are what put people in a buying frenzy.

And needless to say, working in the type of place that I'm at now is souring my taste for the holidays. Because I witness just how bad people can be. I live with the consumption, the selfishness, the excess, the impatience, the loudness, the rudeness, the crowds...all on a daily basis.

And yes, that is what I signed up for. By working in the retail industry, I have forfeited my Christmases for the most part.

I have colleagues that it doesn't affect as much. They power through it. They are able to keep a smile and accept it as part of their job. I can, to a point, mainly because I understand that it's my job and how I pay my bills. But it still chips away at me about as much as hearing "Little Drummer Boy" 27 times a day. So I've decided to change it.

I understand that throughout life we have to do things that we don't like. That's part of it. But the way I see it, if you can change those things that you don't like, why not change them then?

So I have decided that I am going to change my Christmas traditions. It may not happen next year or the year after that, but it will happen. You see, changing my holiday traditions immediately just to satisfy myself is quite selfish, and thus one of the characteristics that I'm wanting to avoid. So it is going to take cooperation and compromises.

What I would like:

First and foremost, I am going to need a minimum of three days off; the 24th, 25th, and 26th of December.

Secondly, Christmas needs to be big. It's a festival, so we should treat it like one. Music, lights, fantastic food and drink, comradary, and fun. It seems to me like by the time Christmas day finally rolls around, everyone's too worn out to really enjoy it the way it should be enjoyed. Surely due to all the scrambling to buy-buy-buy, dealing with the ridiculous crowds of fair amounts of mean people, and the mental breakdown of finding that "perfect" gift for that special someone (which is probably just a fucking jacket from The North Face anyway). So early preparation is of the essence.

As far as a location goes, I think that in my case I would prefer renting a large cabin in the mountains away from humans. That way, everyone is sharing the cooking, the preparation, decoration, and the clean up. The ones that end up hosting Christmas at their house are always the ones that become exhausted first. A neutral location helps divvy out the responsibilities.

I also like the options of activities surrounding a mountain cabin that do not include watching television. I'm sure tv will be available, and that's cool. But activities such as snowshoeing, sledding, hot tubbing, innertubing...they offer different options, especially for the kids.

Presents are a part of Christmas, like it or not. But from witnessing the madness that goes along with buying that perfect piece of crap for someone, I'd like to reevaluate how presents are exchanged. There need to be parameters. I don't know exactly what those parameters are at the moment, but it needs to include the number of gifts, lack of returnability, creativity, and thoughtfulness.

I remember getting Star Wars action figures, He-Man, G.I. Joe's, Hot Wheels, and Super Heros when I was a young'n, and it was utopia. Kids need that, along with fishing poles, binoculars, and bee-bee guns. It accelerates the imagination. But we don't need overkill. We need to relax on the excess.

Lastly, I would like the adult's presents to include helping out with transporting the other adults to said mountain location in as hassle free of a manner possible. Other presents should include pitching in on renting the cabin, food, drink...and if we insist on exchanging presents between adults, see above parameters that need to be established.

I'm not bitching--I got some cool shit this year. Ate some great food. But it was crammed into one day, and during that one day I was exhausted, as I'm sure some of my other co-Christmasers were. Early preparation, avoiding the madness, and getting away together is how I'd like to outline my holiday.

And once again, from an earlier post, church is fine. It makes me feel good, but it's not necessary for me. But it is to some. The compromise could be finding a cabin within short driving distance to a small church in the mountains. That would be nice. And there would be no swerving to avoid car crashes with Christmas Eve Denver drunks.

It would be like a Smokey Mountain Christmas starring Dolly Parton and Lee Majors. Lee Majors plays the role of "Mountain Dan". I don't want to ruin it for you, but "Mountain Dan" turns out to be a nice guy. And I think he gets on Dolly.



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time for joy.

I like Christmas.

To me, Christmas should be celebrated close to family and friends and far away from everyone else. I do not like people, and the farther away from the majority of them that I am, the better.

Christmas needs to include food and drink. Lots of good food and drink. I'm not talking about a keg party or body shots, but some nog and spiced rum over ice cubes; popping a bottle of cab; or a couple-three fingers of good Scotch, all being enjoyed by the fireplace. In my family, we've bypassed the traditional meal of ham with the usual accompaniments. We cook the good stuff. This year it's ribeye and king crab legs. We don't have time to fuck around.

Jesus, God, and the whole "reason for the season" is not crammed down anyone's throat, yet we all still feel the closeness and warmth surrounding it. I personally don't need church to feel spiritually connected to the holiday. It's basically for the same reasons that I don't need church every Sunday to reinforce by faith and beliefs. I can do without the stories. To me, it cuts into my time with the people that I love, doing the things that we love to, thus creating warmth, spirituality, appreciation, and togetherness.

I just looked out my back window and saw two flocks of geese flying in perfect "v" formations over my backyard. Their shadows cast on the untouched snow in the park behind my house. To me, that is feeling closer to God than listening to someone I don't know tell me stories that they've read about. To each their own, though.

Have a good December 25th, kids.



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Freedom 'Stache: Revisited

This is from an email I sent out to a couple friends of mine a few years back. It's called "Freedom 'Stache". I wrote it when I was being consumed by a desk job and all that it entails.

I grew a mustache.

I call it my "freedom 'stache". It is the best thing I've done for myself in quite a while. It makes me laugh, it gives me confidence, and it coaxes me to live free. Whether it be driving from Georgia to Texas and back in a 1977 Trans Am, blocking for 400 cases of illegal Coors beer; around the crime-laden streets of Hawaii in a Ferrari; or coast to coast in a recreational vehicle, hitting every fish-filled stream, every ripped barstool, every cup of coffee and plate of biscuits & gravy that I can find along the way. It boasts freedom.

The freedom 'stache does not approve of sitting at a desk. Nor does it approve of time clocks, businessman catch phrases, or production meetings. It prefers an empty highway over a computer screen. And it would rather warm up to hot cup of coffee in a tin cup after a chilly morning waist deep in trout water than filling up in the break room in between conference calls just to keep going.

While other mustaches adhere to general rules of society, office politics, and in-box thinking, the freedom 'stache opens up a window of free thinking, vision, and confidence. It makes a bad day into a good day. It is also sympathetic towards other mustaches, who see only what is directly in front of them.

I highly recommend the mustache. For freedom's sake.

It's time, once again, for the mustache. The Freedom 'Stache.

Please join me, if you feel so inclined. It's liberating.





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gong post.

I just watched the Van Halen video that I posted a few days ago, and it made me realize something. It made me realize that I want a giant, flaming gong. One that would make Chuck Barris jealous. I imagine gongs are pretty pricey, though. Especially ones that you can light on fire.

One day, when I become disgustingly rich, I will purchase a giant, fiery gong. Maybe put it above my bed, because that seems like the obvious place to display it. After I get done masturbating I would light it on fire and strike it with my flame-retardant mallet before crying myself to sleep. That might be dangerous, though. Of course, I do live for danger...



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So Far, So Good.

With all this talk lately of living and experiencing what this world has to offer, I actually took a moment today to reflect on all the experiences that I have had, good or bad, because that is what makes you who you are. Whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger...or someshit.

All the "bad" experiences can actually be considered good, because those are just part of life. How can you experience what the world has offer if you don't encounter a little bad? You learn from it, and you also appreciate it more when the good comes along.

I've experienced heartbreak. I've lost my temper a few times - and taken it out on inanimate objects. Luckily, I haven't experienced "extreme" tragedy, but I have lost loved ones before their time, sometimes tragically. I've been punched in the face. I've been kicked in the face - after I fell down from the punch. I have been completely and utterly lost in the wilderness. I have inhaled gallons of river water and had a giant rock fall on me. I have broken bones. I have broken my nose...three times (see above punch and kick). I've been fired. I've gotten an "F". I have been arrested. I have been suspended from school. I've been in car wrecks. I have been evicted. I have committed adultery. I have visited an emergency room more times than I would like. I haven't made a lot of money. I've been dumped. I've had hemorrhoids. I've had over 60 jobs.

But, I have also...

I have loved; I have married; I currently have true love. I have an incredible relationship with my family. I have punched someone in the face. I have travelled to exotic places (Costa Rica); some not so exotic (Joplin, MO). I have made amazing friends over the years, some of which I've known for 30 years or longer. I've up and split. I have lived on the beach. I have lived in the mountains. I have lived in between. I have great stories. I have blurry memories. I've caught a lot of fish. I have played music in front of an appreciative audience until my fingers bled and my voice was hoarse. I have not yet beat my wife at chugging Irish Car Bombs on St. Patrick's Day. I have participated in some of the largest Spring Break festivities known to upright man. I have seen the Ramones, four times. I have meandered, traipsed, wandered, and especially rambled. I've been to Monster Truck Jam and the Joey Chitwood Stunt and Thrill Show. I've been diving. I've hiked across mountains. I've seen 21 Cardinals vs. Cubs games. I've met Mike Shannon. I have fished in bass tournaments. I have guided fly fishing trips. I've drank incredible Scotch, wine, and beer. I've eaten over 100 lbs of rare steak, not at once. I have thought about uncontrollable, random shit until my eyeballs ached. I've seen sharks, bears, moose, elk, and chipmunks in the wild; all with different pitched voices, but all still with Mexican accents ( I realize 'Mexican' accent is not proper, but it is funnier). I've attempted entrepreneurialism...still a work in progress. I have career-leaped. I went to college. I've gotten a raise. I have listened to, acknowledged, and appreciated incredible music. I have bought a house. I've had great dogs, including the one who is sleeping under my feet right now, Cliff, and the one probably curled up on my sister's couch, Mike. I have been a part of some fantastic man-trips...there needs to be many more. I met all four members of Stryper. I lost my virginity in an odd place. I loved Johnny Cash before he died. I saw Mark McGwire's first home run as a Cardinal (went back-to-back with Ray Langford). I saw Willie McGee's last game at Busch Stadium. I've been to the very last game at Busch II, and the first game at Busch III. I've been to Wrigley when the Cubs lost. I have had quite possibly the best meal know to man, which consisted of walleye and morel mushrooms...both caught and picked that day and fried in a cast iron skillet on top of a rusty Coleman stove. I have laughed with my friends until my side hurt. I have projectile vomited, on purpose. I know who Django Reinhardt is. My mom makes the best chocolate chip cookies in life. I've seen a shooting star. I've seen a mountain lion. I intercepted the football during the Pleasant View Blue Jays big game against the Cherokee Indians in 1988. I've hit home runs in little league. I can do a backwards dive. My cholesterol is okay...considering. I've breakdanced on un-airbrushed cardboard. I've slept under the stars.

My life has been full of good things. Like I said, even the bad are good.

On the list...

The Testy Festy (fried cow testicle festival). Yellowstone, Yosemite, Glacier, Adirondacks. Europe. To meet Tom Selleck (I think I'd get along with him better than Burt Reynolds nowadays). Kiddo(s). Alaska. To write a book of random crap. Montana and Idaho. Rocklahoma. Kayak with orcas. To pay my folks back for bail money, college, moving back in six times, etc. To own my own business. Backpack New Zealand and Australia. Fly fish South America. To grow old with my wife.

This list wasn't written out of any sort of ego-trip. It was just something that I needed to do to make myself appreciate what I have and what I've done. Those who have helped out along the way - thanks.

Life's pretty cool, kids. Don't fuck it up.



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Ain't Wasting Time No More...

I realize that I'm a smart enough and ambitious enough fellow to do whatever my heart desires. And I also realize that you have to be patient. Dreaming, plus careful planning, plus networking, plus an educated execution is probably a good formula for doing whatever it is that you want to do, but it takes time.

I don't like being patient, though. When it comes to my dreams and how I'd like to spend my time on this planet, in this body, during this life, I don't want to procrastinate. Realistically, I could die tonight. Sure, that may be a little morbid, but it's the truth. Who knows, other than the big guy? I could live 60 more years, or I could live 60 more days.

With those sobering thoughts in mind, I'd like to get started on experiencing more things.

There is so much that interests me, though, that it's going to be tough to squeeze it all in. So much music, culture, nature, food, drink. It's too bad that working takes up the majority of my (and most everyone else's) time. It's too bad that I can't get paid to do exactly what I want...

I'm working on it.


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Retail vs. Christmas

"Is there anything we can help you out with today?"

"You guys finding everything alright?"

"If you have any questions on anything, just let me know!"

These phrases I say in my sleep.

I actually had a customer argue the other day, not only with me, but me and three other employees at different times whether the coat he was interested in was black or not.

DIPSHIT: "This coat isn't black, it's gray!"
ME: "Yea, I realize that some of our jackets may have different tones of black. It's just different dyes used by different manufacturing plants."
DIPSHIT: "There's no way this is black!"
ME: "I assure you, that jacket is black. If you would like one darker, maybe you'd like this jacket instead?"
DIPSHIT: "No. I want this jacket, but in black!"
ME: "Bud, that's as black as you're going to find that jacket. Here, I'll even show you the tag: 'Black'."
DIPSHIT: "It's not black."
ME: "It is. Trust me."
DIPSHIT: "I still don't think it's black..." as he walks away from me to argue the same pointless topic with another one of my employees.

Ahhh, the holidays! It brings out a lot of good in people, but it also brings out a lot of bad in people.

Bad, as in...

DIPSHIT: "What is your warmest jacket???" A question I get on a daily basis - sometimes the only question I seem to get all day. Fair enough, I guess. But enough with the debates.
ME: "Well, there are no temperature ratings on jackets like there are on sleeping bags - which are still fairly arbitrary - but with the knowledge that I have on the technology, I can most certainly make an educated assumption on this jacket as the warmest."
DIPSHIT: "No way. This one's gotta be warmer than this one."
ME: "Okay, fuck me." Then I walk away.

I hate people, yet I am in the service industry. Retail, to be exact. What is wrong with me? Why did I pick this profession? It sours my taste for the human race.

It has especially thrown a wrench in my Christmas spirit. I love Christmas...I truly do. Yet every year when Christmas approaches, as I'm trying so desperately hard to enjoy the spirit of the season, I automatically get avalanched by people trying to destroy my spirit with stupidity and rudeness.

DIPSHIT: "I'm looking for (describes the most popular coat manufactured by my company-and this is four days before Christmas)."
ME: "I'm sorry sir, we've completely sold out of that jacket."
DIPSHIT: "Well then order it for me."
ME: "I'm afraid it's sold out company-wide. Sorry."
DIPSHIT: "How am I supposed to get this coat then?"
ME: "You can try REI or Sports Authority."
DIPSHIT: "So you're not going to do anything for me..."
ME: "There's nothing I can do. The North Face makes a certain amount of coats based on their annual projections-it's not an endless supply. They distribute these coats to REI's, Sports Authorities, Dick's, Nordstroms, and thousands of other stores, including their own retail stores like this one. Unfortunately, since this is the most popular coat this season, all corporately owned TNF stores and outlets, as well as our Distribution Center and Ecomm Center are completely out."
DIPSHIT: "I just need you to find this coat for me."
ME: "If you give me just a minute, I can try and shit one out for you."
DIPSHIT: "That highly offends me! I'm never shopping here again!" Customer storms out as I pull my pants back up and wave at him.




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The Halen.

This band created the formula for your quintessential hair band. "Classically trained" quiet guitarist who can still rock out; Flamboyant front man, who is a bit gay-but a bit manly. Girls want him, guys want to be him; Your bass player and drummer are always in the background, but everyone knows who they are and how good they are.

Sure, they stole some of their bit from Led Zeppelin, incorporated a little glam (ie: Sweet, New York Dolls), along with coutless other influences. I'm not getting paid money to promote them, I'm just sayin'. If you dig rock and roll, you can't deny Van Halen.

Without the Halen, there would be no 80s Metal. Yea, yea...I know. But c'mon, how much fun is that??

I'm going to represent my "Weekly 80's Metal Video" with this fantastic song. It's called "Unchained" and it is a top notch song. In my eyes, it's actually not a campy, goofy 80's video because VH actually paved the way for the less talented that followed. The Halen need the respect, because care or not, they created a brand new niche in rock and roll.

If you do not like this video, I am sure that I do not want to be associated with you ever.

Enjoy, friends with taste.



ps: I'm really drunk.

Hello??

Hey, could you guys do me a favor? Can you let me know if you actually read this? If you do, just put a comment below this entry.

I'm just curious. Thanks everybody. Or thanks no one.


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Alive Inside.

A few years back I recall sitting at work in Kansas City with the worst case of cabin fever imaginable.

Cabin Fever is basically a built up and bottled desire to get outside. The feeling is comparable to longing for a certain someone. Like a girl named Jennifer or Stephanie from seventh grade that was "dating" Mark or Chad, and you wanted her badly but she was not to be had (Hello, Dr. Seuss). Not at this time, at least. That's a similar feeling to cabin fever. You want something now, but you just can't have it. You're kind of trapped...at least for the time being.

In Kansas City, there aren't very many places to escape to cure your cabin fever. So even during the peak outdoor months, I found myself going a little crazy. It didn't help that I worked at a gear store, either. Day after day of selling backpacks and hiking boots to people that were going on adventures. Giving advice to these people while gritting my teeth, trying not to expose my jealousy. So, granted, one of these days I was either going to snap, or figure out a way to feed this beast that is cabin fever.

Lucky for me, while I was managing this gear store in K.C. I was also asked to guide fly fishing trips in Colorado. I've been fly fishing for quite some time now, which the powers that be knew, so they offered to pay me to caravan out to Buena Vista for seven days at a time to teach rich people how to catch trout.

During my first guide trip to Colorado, I quickly learned two things. That I was 93% certain that I did not want to guide for a living. And that I wanted to live in Colorado. Guiding was fun, but I enjoy fishing over guiding. And Kansas sucks, especially when coming from the West.

Each time that I would come back from Colorado it wouldn't take long for the cabin fever to set back in. It was like giving a starving child a taste of macaroni & cheese every five months. I realized that I needed more than just a taste.

As my fever grew to painful proportions, I started devising a plan. This plan involved a lengthy adventure followed by a relocation. The lengthy adventure included road tripping, campfires, a glass or two of Scotch, sleeping under the stars, and exploring new rivers with my fly rod. The relocation was Colorado, a place where cabin fever is a seldom sight.

As the plan of adventure began to unfold, I immediately realized that the planning proved to be invigorating. My job suddenly became to plan for this adventure. I made contacts to potential sponsors that provided me with necessary provisions in exchange for the possibility of exposure. I recruited a close friend to join me on the trip to document this adventure on film. I was offered use of a camper to live in from an acquaintance that is now a great friend. This jaunt had turned into an epic adventure, at least in my mind. My cabin fever had subsided and I was starting to feel more alive than ever. The thought of a day job seemed mundane. I wanted for this feeling of freedom and life to continue.

It did continue. The excursion started the day that I kissed my now-wife goodbye, and headed for the mountains in my beat up pick-up truck.

I made it to Buena Vista, Colorado in one day without any breakdowns or issues of that sort. For the next week, I would teach rich people how to catch trout one last time before driving off into uncertainty. And that I did.

I remember the morning after our clients had gone back to the Midwest. The other guides and I had enjoyed a day of fishing without the annoyance of holding rich people's hands. That morning we awoke at 4am so my fellow guides could get a jump on the long ride back to Kansas and Oklahoma. We said our goodbyes, they headed East, and I took a nap at an abandoned kayak access in my truck.

After I woke up from my nap, it was time to shift this adventure into second gear. No more guide cabin. No more familiar cities. No more home base. Just my rickety truck packed with everything I owned, three fly rods, and a Rand McNally Atlas.

For the next three weeks I embarked on a trip that brought new towns, new rivers, new faces, new topography, new wildlife, new taverns, a good friend, a camper, and a jug of Scotch. We drove unknown roads. We fished unknown waters. We explored unknown mountains. Unknown to us.

Afterwards, the relocation took place. The relocation was exciting, but real. It involved real life adult decisions which I sometimes made correctly and sometimes did not. There were moving vans, packing, house hunting, leases, jobs, commuting, and so on. Oh yea, and my soon-to-be wife that, luckily for me, did not leave me during any of this.

It's been over two years since I've moved out West. The cabin fever is generally a thing of the past, seeing as how I've got hundreds of choices for curing it at my disposal. I feel as though I've just finished my relocation part of the plan. In addition to living in a pop-up camper and in the back of my pick-up, I've made my residence in my inlaws' basement and two rental houses since becoming a Colorado resident. Eight months ago I bought a house, and three months after that I married April. The plan is complete...two and a half years later, it's complete.

Which brings me to the whole reason that I started writing this blurb in the first place. I am ready for another adventure.

A good friend of mine once told me that within this short life of ours, you have to do what makes you feel alive inside.

With that said - and I can assure you that is fantastic advice to live by - I am in the process of devising yet another life-giving adventure.

Sure, small excursions are necessary. April and I just spent the weekend up in Estes in an outasight little cabin. Before that, we stayed three days up in Snowmass Village - checked out a great concert, hiked up around Independence Pass, and fly fished the Frying Pan. And currently me and my buddies have a rugged man-trip in the works. Like I said, necessary.

But for me, the thought of planning and executing an epic adventure that few people I know would even think of appeals to me greatly. Not because of ego, but because it makes me feel alive inside. The excitement, the adventure, the possibilities, the enjoyment...it all flows through me like a river. Like a raging, rushing river, overflowing it's banks with passion - bountiful with beautiful, colorful, but dangerously emotional fish.........a'hem.

I have cohorts involved in this plan. Three cohorts who are excited about an adventure. Three cohorts who share my ambition. Three cohorts who want to live and not regret.

The planning is in the works, because planning is necessary when you're in your 30's. It is much more difficult to wing it when you have a mortgage. So careful, adult-style planning is currently on the agenda. Along with finances, other things to consider are time and...well, more finances. So, while keeping money in mind, one must dream big and have a strong vision of what one wants to accomplish. But if it's not exactly what you envisioned, that's okay. Plan big, expect not-as big. That's a safe formula. But there's always a chance of your dream becoming as big, or bigger than you had expected. That is what we call a real nice surprise.

I will keep this blog updated on the general outline of this adventure plan. I will not get into details because certain things change, and certain things do not necessarily need to be planned out to begin with.

Sleep well, my friends. And please dream of adventure. Because like a glass of good Scotch, it will make you grit your teeth and feel keen.


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DD Update.

I'm not going to let the cat out of bag. I'm just sayin'...there is going to be live music at Dokken Day 2010. That's as much info as I can release right now.

Obviously, the music will be classified as "80's Metal", otherwise it would not be accepted.

One other update to Dokken Day: It has already been run by the judges...Billy Squier is acceptable. Especially his masterpiece, "Don't Say You Love Me".

That is all for now.


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stupid elk.

I took this picture two days ago while Ape and I were up in Estes staying at this little cabin. Nothing artsy about the pic...just a big-ass elk walking around our cabin. He refused to have cocktails and get in the hot tub with us. Jerk.

picture time

The same aspen tree in my backyard. This branch reminds me of scrotums. Several little barky scrotums. I like the background and the lighting also, though.

picture time

This here is a picture of a ladybug. It was taken in my backyard on my aspen tree...by me. When I look at this picture, it relaxes me. It has some really soft light and I dig the contrast of the red and green.

Good Show.

I'm in the mood for a show. I can't remember the last show I've been to...Kings of Leon maybe? Jesus, that was forever ago. No, it was Citizen Cope and Michael Franti at Jazz Aspen Snowmass. Still, forever ago.

The thing about living in a big city is, almost every band comes through. When I lived in a smaller town, you took what you could get. So far since I've lived in Denver, I've missed a million shows. But when I lived in Springfield, I went to whatever show we could get into our town. Now, I take it for granted. And I'm older, too.

And plus, the majority of the shows that I'm interested in I've already seen before. When I check band sites and venue sites I'm always looking for a band I know I dig.

Night before last I missed Less Than Jake. I've seen them two or three times already, but it's been years. And about a month ago I missed Bouncing Souls, which I'm a little pissed about. I've seen them once before, but it was at the Warped Tour and not a dark, intimate club. Huge difference.

One band I'm dieing to see is the Black Keys. Everything I hear from them I like more and more. No scheduled tour dates in my area though, I'm afraid. They are my new favorite band. Two dudes playing fantastic roots rock and blues influenced by Creedence, Hendrix, and John Lee Hooker to name a few. Now, I generally don't like blues much, but I dig these guys the most.

Not sure why I don't go to more shows. Well, I suppose I've already kind of answered that. I'm older, so driving downtown and watching the headliner start at midnight...and then driving home drunk as shit at 3am isn't too appealing anymore. Plus, I have seen a ton of bands. Most of the one's I dig I've seen. So even though I'd dig seeing them again, it's much easier to just blow it off. That way, I save money and I don't risk getting into trouble.

But it's time. I need to see a good show. Just missed LTJ, the Souls, Fogerty, AC/DC, Supersuckers, and Motorhead with the Rev HH just cancelled. Good news is I've seen them all, but it's time to check them out again.

Either that, or 40 Horse Johnson needs to start back up...

Kev? Bryan?

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As Far As Heros Go...

Maybe it has something to do with Saturday morning. Waking up and immediately turning the TV on to watch Batman, Tarzan, Superfriends, or Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends.

I find myself this morning trying to decide who the coolest superhero is.

First, you have to decide if by "coolest", you mean a superhero that you think is wicked by themselves or a superhero you would like to be. For instance, Batman. I think he is very cool, but no way would I want to be him. He has unmatched detective skills, the physical abilities of a ninja, and perhaps the coolest toys ever imagined. But a superhero? Boring. No super powers at all, just advanced regular capabilities.

Let's compare Batman to, let's say...Superman. Superman has the most super powers out of any superhero on the planet...or any other planet. The Earth's yellow sun gives him super-human strength, x-ray vision, blinding speed, heat-rays from his eyes, and powerful breath. He's like a tricked-out Bentley, and Batman is like a '68 Camaro.

Honestly, Superman is so "super", that he bores me. He's kind of like one of those guys that's good at everything, so you immediately root against him.

That's DC, though. Their superhero's always kind of bored me. I'm much more of a Marvel guy. There were so many more "realistic" superheros. They were almost like real people.

Take Bruce Banner for instance. He was this quiet, nerdy type of guy who kept to himself until he got pushed around by the mean ole' general (and father of the girl he was obsessed with). All he wanted to do was his science projects and court Betty Ross. Then, a mishap with some gamma rays mutated him into a Frankenstein-ish monster when he got angry, which happened to be quite a bit. It's a classic Jeckyll & Hyde type of storyline, with a "bully that learns his leason" type of twist and a love story thrown in.

I am much more of an Incredible Hulk guy. I'm not sure if I necessarily consider him a superhero, though. We can all relate to the Hulk (at least I can), and we're all pulling for the Hulk. But there's this King Kong type of thing going on there, too. He loves the girl, but has to try and overcome all these obstacles, including his beastly, primal exterior and mentality, in order to get her.

Any guy has had Hulk moments. If you are dating a girl, and some douche bag starts hitting on her, you wish you could turn into the Hulk and smash him. I've actually tried and it doesn't work like in the comics.

Comic-wise, I could always relate to Spider-Man. There was sort of the same thing going on with Peter Parker that there was Bruce Banner, with the bullies and all. But Spider-Man was much more of a hero. Maybe not on a global scale like Superman, but he kept New York in check. Spider-Man was always smart, in addition to his super-human physical abilities. And there was always a deep, human element to his story. Spider-Man was always my favorite comic to read growing up, but unfortunately Toby and Kirsten have kind of ruined the story for me. Not that the movies were bad, but they took away a portion of the imagination that goes into reading a comic book. Most movies that are based on books, be it comic or otherwise, do that whether we realize it or not.

I'd say on a hero basis, it's probably between Superman and Spider-Man. I know I bad-mouthed Superman earlier, but I've been reconsidering during my writing.

It's got to be tough to have the weight of the world on your shoulders. I mean, even the President looks to Superman for advice. Yea, he can pretty much do it all, but one little piece of green kryptonite and he's fucked. Spider-Man doesn't have that problem. Although there's no chance Spider-Man would be called upon to protect the Earth. He can't fly, therefore time is a serious issue when trying to protect the world. And it doesn't make much sense to book a charter flight for a superhero. Spider-Man is better off sticking to NYC.

So I suppose Superman is your quintessential hero. Everyone knows he's a badass. But the cool thing about Superman is that when he's Clark Kent, he's a fucking nerd. I dig that. There aren't too many superheros that are cool as shit when in their alter-ego state. Except for Bruce Wayne. That's another reason Batman doesn't appeal to me all that much. He's a spoiled rich kid. Although so was Tony Stark, but he earned it. Bruce did not, he just had everything given to him whereas Tony built the shit.

So yes, alter-ego's play a significant role in which superhero is the coolest.

And I can't believe I'm saying this, but as I pick it apart, I'm starting to lean towards Superman. He's a nerd, he's got a crush on a girl (Lois Lane), he is a badass when he needs to be, yet he is vulnerable (see: kryptonite), he has a lot of pressure on him in both egos (reporting on important happenings in Metropolis as C. Kent and saving the world as Superman), and to top it off, he's just a good guy. I still tend to root for the good guy. I believe he's got a good heart, which probably stems from his humble upbringing by his down-to-earth step-parents that raised him in Smallville. You have to appreciate good, honest morals.

Jesus, I guess Superman wins. I had no idea this would be the outcome when I started this post. How generic. How vanilla. How ho-hum. I was hoping I would talk myself into someone like Thor or Green Lantern. It's all there, though. You've just read the argument, and although I really don't consider myself a Superman guy, as far as hero's go, he is the big winner.

I guess when you're good at what you do, people just can't argue that. Superman is the best at what he does. I usually root for the underdog, but in this case you just can't deny that he does a fine job of not only protecting Metropolis, but the rest of the world too. Who else does that? Batman? The Hulk? Spider-Man? Nope. Superman doesn't require a private jet to travel to the ends of the Earth to fight evil. He is not bipolar. He's not a rich jerk. He doesn't require a team like the Fantastic Four, X-Men, or Avengers. He puts others ahead of himself. And he's genuine.

As far as "Heros" go, he's a real hero. Not just some 'roided out mutant like Wolverine or The Thing.

I feel safe having Superman around. I can't say that about anyone else.




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Workin' For a Livin'

For a very long time now, I've been wanting to start my own business. I've always dreamt about a job where I can call my own shots and, of course while we're dreaming, I would obviously make a lot of money.

My dream business has always revolved around the outdoors. Whether it be a gear store, guide service, or publication. And I've looked into each one far enough to realize that I don't have enough money to properly start and sustain one of these.

I consider myself...or at least used to consider myself an artist. More accurately put, a "fair weather artist". I have always needed a creative outlet, and for the majority of my life it has been drawing. Then it switched to music, then it switched to painting, and has since switched to writing. The combination of my necessary creative time and my desire for entreprenurialism have come together a few times before, but all have suffered the same above-mentioned financial road block-consequence, with the exception of one thing...

...designing and selling t-shirts.

The idea came to me a few years back when I had just started in the outdoor industry. Brands like Patagonia and Life is Good sold, among other things, t-shirts with these clever, sometimes inspiring, outdoor oriented designs and messages. The biographies of the owners of these companies were humble, simple and smart. And they prompted me to start thinking that this might be something that would be fun, and hopefully profitable. So I started designing designs.

It's gotten to the point where I now have a fairly extensive portfolio, have decided on the name and personality of this company, I have the necessary financial aspects in line, and am ready to start producing, selling, and profiting.

And funny enough, this stupid blog has helped me with the personality of my company and design direction.

I'll get into all the specifics a little later on in another post. Seeing as how I tend to change my on a 15 minute basis, I'd better not commit to anything publicly.

So with that said, I can tell you that the designs that you will see one of these days will be outdoor oriented, clever, simple, and cool. Like Fonzie. The profits that I end up making on this venture will be shared with outdoor and environmental organizations. The material of the shirts will be ecologically superior to traditional cotton, and manufacturing and printing will be done as close to home as possible.

Ideally, one day I would like to design and sell shirts that not just your environmentally conscious consumer would buy, but those who have no clue or don't care about our carbon footprint. (wow, you can tell I'm 10 minutes from Boulder, huh?) That way, when they do purchase one of my incredibly cool (like Fonzie) shirts, little do they know, that by buying this shirt they are donating to a grass roots organization dedicated to helping the earf. And maybe, just maybe it will help them realize that being eco conscious isn't just for greenies and granolas, but for truck drivers, farmers, politicians, steel workers, bass fishermen, and movie stars.

Back to the shirts.

They aren't going to advertise a preachy, artsy, "better than you" message. Not that there's anything wrong with that. They are going to be simple, sometimes clever (if I'm in a clever mood), always interesting, and appealing. There may or may not be a message in them, but there will always be a donation. The designs are all going to be mine (maybe not the art specifically, but the design), and they are going to be designs that I would wear on my t-shirt even if it were not my design. Get it? So they are going to be quite Earlish. But that's okay.

Like I said earlier, I tend to change my mind a lot. But generally, once I actually set my mind to something I usually follow through with it. It might take a while, but it'll get done.

A good friend of mine, Andy, also has a t-shirt company. Also? Oddly enough, we both had similar business ideas long before we actually met each other. His company is already up and running, and it is fantastic. http://www.interwoventhreads.com/ is where you need to go to check out Andy's company, Interwoven Threads. You should buy a shirt from him. He's getting married soon, he could use the money.

I'll keep you posted on the evolution of my company. It is definitely a work in progress, but I'm confident that I'll find some time one day to get it off the ground. Who knows, after my company becomes world renown, maybe you will be the proud owner of one of Earl's originally designed t-shirts. And then you could sell it on Ebay for eight dollars.

Gotta dream, man.







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Another Example...

And this is an example of a picture that I did not take, but it is of me so it's acceptable. Cousin Robert gets credit for this one.

This is on the Goat Trail overlooking the Buffalo River in Arkansas a few years back.

Master of Photography

Pretty, huh?

I dig taking pictures, and since this is my blog page, I'm going to post a bunch of pictures that I took. Or in some cases, that somebody I know took...as long as I'm in them.

This is in Northern Colorado, in the Never Summer Wilderness.








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"80's" Metal Video

Man, I've really been slacking. You know, with the Dokken Day planning and all it's been pretty hectic lately. But it's all gonna be worth it once you check out my 80's Metal Video.

It's by Steel Panther, who rule. They're actually a parody band that does a lot of covers...but they do them really well. The singer and guitarist used to be in a Van Halen cover band called The Atomic Punks, and you couldn't tell them from the actual Roth-era VH if you were to do the Pepsi Challenge with the head phones. And if you remember the commercial (I think for Master Card or someshit) that documented (facetiously) the rise and fall the 80's Metal band, Danger Kitty, that was them too. So they're actually excellent musicians and performers. Lucky for us, they don't take themselves too seriously.

This video contains element from Twisted Sister, Dokken, and Van Halen among others. And I fell in love with the song as soon as I heard the first line..."Fuck the Goo Goo Dolls! They can suck my balls!"

It honestly does not get any more poetic than that. You're going to laugh your asses off.

Enjoy, my friends.

Steel Panther-Death To All But Metal - watch more funny videos

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ARE YOU READY FOR SOME BLOGGING??!!

Nothing too mindblowingly deep or thoughtful tonight. Just wanting to let everyone know that I'm happy.

Just got back from the Monday Night Football contest between the Broncos and the Steelers, and as I write this am happy on beer. Sure, I spent $80 on seven beers, but it was worth it. Got to see Pittsburgh beat up on the Donkeys a bit, so all is well.

"Why the hell are you a Steelers fan, Matt?" you might ask. "Why not a Chiefs, Broncos, or Rams fan?"

Let me answer the last question first...because they suck. And now the first question...

Growing up in Missouri with deep St. Louis roots, the St. Louis Cardinals football team was my most favorite growing up. My mos favorito. With O.J. Anderson, Jim Hart, Dan Dierdorf, and a whole slew of forgettable names on my team, it didn't matter because the Cardinals were St. Louis.

Well, right when I actually started to understand the game of football, the Cards' owner Bill Bidwell, up and moved his team to Arizona where there are no cardinals...just gila monsters and big spiders. So I was left with no football team.

Normally if you're a fan of a St. Louis sports team, you cannot be a fan of a Kansas City sports team...especially after 1985. So I never really allowed myself to root for the Chiefs.

My dad though, he worked for a stainless steel tank manufacturing company in Springfield and would always bring home the stainless steel stickers that they put on every tank. I put them on my toolbox, my closet doors, and my bed. They look exactly like the Steelers' emblem...except they say "STEEL" instead of "STEELERS". That, along with the Steelers' cool colors (which were like the Missouri Tigers) prompted me to start rooting for Pittsburgh.

Since Bidwell stole the Cardinals from us, I've been a Steelers fan ever since. Not to the point of Cardinals Baseball, but as much as I get into NFL. I follow them, root for them...but don't freak out if they suck. And I love it when they beat the Broncos! Never liked Elway or Shanahan.

I'm still a Rams fan, because they're a St. Louis team and I have to. But if they played the Steelers in the Super Bowl, I'd probably root for Pittsburgh.

Anyway, It was a swell game and I'm happy. Now it's time to go eat seven Tums and go to bed. I have to get up in the morning and go to the mountains to go fishing. I hope you're jealous. If you're not, you should be.

Good things...




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The Incredible Hulk or Superman?

First off, big thanks to Anonymous (or Frank) for commenting on my latest entry about Dokken Day. Frank's been rocking out since he been to a Metallica concert back in 1986. Frank, I don't know you, but we have been connected through the power of rock and that cannot be ignored. Unfortunately, I can't invite strangers to my friend's house...but I will most certainly keep you updated on the planning of the festivities and perhaps you and your crew can celebrate Dokken Day up in Westerville, South Dakota! Dokken Day should be celebrated everywhere by everyone! Keep rockin', Frank.

Along with the preparation of Dokken Day, I have been doing quite a bit of thinking. So much so, that I sometimes wonder if I suffer from ADD or some other made up mental disorder that keeps me from focusing on single thoughts. Sure, I can concentrate on one thought at a time, but it immediately jumps to another thought, then another, and so on. I've been self medicating as much as possible to try and get a handle on this annoyance. It's helped. And surprisingly, writing helps. It keeps me focused...which is nice.

Random thoughts have included, but are not limited to...

Entreprenuerialism, global warming, the passing of a good friend, future large purchases, playing music, who my favorite super hero is, Thanksgiving dinner, my hatred of running, my hatred of the Beatles, discovering new music (that does not sound like the Beatles), different moods, individualism, marketing, washing my car, why people suck so bad, trout behavior, my desire to revisit past outdoor activities, and starting a cult.

Now I will randomly talk about one of the above-mentioned thoughts.

Different moods. Sounds boring, and maybe it is, but it intrigues me and I want to talk about it.

Different moods bring out different thoughts and different feelings, thus creating different tastes and likes at that time. For instance, I love to chill the fuck out with a glass of Scotch while listening to good jazz and tying flies. But I also love to go downtown to a punk show, jump up & down, push people into the pit, get drunk on Irish Car Bombs and then go have breakfast. Two different things, right? Moods create thoughts, which then help create tastes. Having different tastes allows for more diverse experiences. My tastes (which are created with the help of moods) revolve heavily around music and drink. The two go hand in hand. The two also heavily influence your mood.

I guess I just appreciate the fact that I enjoy so many completely different things. I not only enjoy different things, but different personalities, subcultures, or common ground. I don't really know what to call it.

Example: I like to go into a coffee shop, where there is classical music playing, order a hot coffee and sit down at a table with my laptop. It clears my head, allows me to relax, and helps me think. I'm not 'that guy', but I do enjoy it from time to time and I typically get along with 'those guys'. I also like to fillet 15 to 20 freshly caught crappie in a white t-shirt with crappie blood all over the front, on a makeshift "gut table" made from 5-gallon buckets and plywood, with a wind-burnt face, sore upper back, and painful hat-hair while listening to BR5-49. I'm not necessarily 'that guy' either, but I can relate. It's just things I dig that have evolved due to my different moods at one time or another.

It actually took quite a while for me to realize that it's okay to like more than one thing. I grew up listening to punk and would not even give hippie-shit the time of day. But my maturity overruled whatever category I had put myself in, and now hippie-shit is some of my favorite music. Joey Ramone just rolled over in his grave...

So whenever you're in a certain mood, and different things are starting to sound interesting to you, whether it's riding motorcycles, hanging out at a coffee shop, participating in a triathlon, getting high to Pink Floyd, rollerblading, turkey hunting, volunteering at a soup kitchen, sail boating, or attending a monster truck rally...don't think of being 'that person', think of just you...doing something. If you're in that particular mood, then do it.

Good things, man. Good things.



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Dokken Day 2010

Last month on the 11th of September, I posted a hilarious commercial entitled, "Dokken vs. Chicken" in my entry, "Don.". Along with that commercial I wrote a bit about the rebirth of a celebration in January called "Dokken Day". I was confident that this festival of 80's Metal would rise from the dead like fiery, flaming phoenix carrying a double-necked Gibson Flying-V guitar in it's talons.

Well, my friends...it has.

Dokken Day 2010 is in the works. There is a place. There is a time. There is a drink menu. There are activities. And there is music.

Listen up. Dokken Day is officially held on January 27-the same day that Los Angeles mayor Tom Bradley gave the 80's Metal band the key to the city back in 1988. Unfortunately, that falls on a Wednesday, so we're going to have it the Saturday before (pending). Location: Foster's house, Springbilly, MO.

There'll be full kegs of cheap beer, Jack Daniels, Boone's Farm, an array of wine coolers including Bartles & Jaymes and Seagram's, Amaretto Sour's...all being consumed while playing Speed Quarters, Indian, Asshole, Chandeleir's, and Do It.

Activities will include drinking, rocking out, hot tubbing, RockBand/Guitar Hero, and lots of high-fives.

Nothing but 80's Metal will be played. And everyone will dress up like an 80's Metal Rocker.

My wife and I are flying all the way from Denver to Springfield to attend this Celebration of Rock. I plan on vomiting, dislocating my knee due to excessive heavy metal kicks, losing my voice, planning to start up a metal band with my buddies while in a drunken stuper, hitting my head on something hard while demonstrating the proper way to "bang your head", pulling my groin, losing conciousness during a keg stand, spitting beer on someone inside Foster's house, my body completely rejecting a SoCo shot, and spraying beer out my nose in the middle of a beer bong.

It will be phenomenal.

If you are lucky enough to attend this party, I assure you, it will be the 2nd best time you'll have all year, maybe the first. Could it overtake St. Pat's???

If you're cool, I'll see you there.



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Warm and Fuzzy

There aren't too many things that give me warm fuzzies.

You know, warm fuzzies. When a smell, a sound, an image, a feeling, a taste, or a memory gives your body that short, but satisfying shutter. Sometimes your closed eyes kind of role up into your head, there is usually a deep breath that accompanies it, and there is always a smile included. Yea, I guess it is somewhat orgasmic.

For me, it normally happens when something triggers a memory. A good memory. I don't get warm fuzzies when I remember shitty times. When I recall the tsunami disaster, I don't get all happy and reminiscent. I get warm fuzzies when I hear the first three notes of "Highway To Hell", like I did just a second ago. Not because it's good song (which it most certainly is), but because it takes me back to driving to the lake cabin in Vinnie's 64, The Tank O' Love.

The reason that's a special memory is, well...it was the place we could go and do whatever the fuck we wanted to do. It was like having your own place, but you were 17. We drank whatever we could get...we drank it all and we drank it fast. We smoked marijuana on the porch (for medical reasons only) and listened to AC/DC, debating over who was better, Bon or Brian.

And The Tank was our means of transportation when visiting the cabin. She was an original, red, 4-door 1964 Chevy Impala. She was beautiful. And she and the cabin both represented freedom to us.

Looking back on that time, I guess "Highway to Hell" was our unofficial anthem. It too, screamed freedom.

The cool thing about the warm fuzzy is, that when you get one, for a split second it takes you back to that exact moment. It's hard to absorb it because it happens so fast. But for one nanosecond, you are experiencing the same passion, elation, love, or excitement that particular memory triggered.



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jump.

My brain has been going a million miles an hour lately. A million.

I've got so many things going on in my head, it's hard to sort them all out and get them taken care of.

I think what's triggering the coagulation of thoughts...what the nucleus is...is the thought of making not only a good living, but an exciting living.

Yes, my fun career choice of being in the outdoor industry is starting to lose its luster. Having to handle different types of personalities from different types of people on a constant basis is chipping away at my brain and at my soul.

In some way, shape or form, for the last 16 years I have had to deal with people in a sales or service format...with the exception of working in a steel factory for two years, blue collar style. When you are in sales, or in my case, retail, anyone can walk through those doors. It's a public place. Crazy people, pretentious people, hateful people, socially inept people, and brainless people. But also delightful people, friendly people, courteous people, and likable people. It's the former batch that chips away at me. It's the people who have no business going out in public at all. The people with no common sense, no tact, no manners, and no reason to like them or want to assist them. Not a day goes by that I don't run into at least one of these worthless beings. Except for when I have a day off.

And I've heard the pep talks, the "it's not as bad as you're letting it be, Matt" talks. I've definitely looked into this rather deeply, thinking that it might be me...that I might be letting little things get to me. But it's not me, it's them.

Back when I started sales, I was young and didn't care about assholes or morons. They made me laugh and were easy to shrug off. But part of it was because I really didn't take my job that seriously either. I was young, people were idiots, and I said what I wanted to them or laughed at them and that was it. But I'm much older now. I take offense to people that have no idea how to act in public or don't know how to treat another person. It no longer is easy to laugh at on a regular basis...because it happens so often. And also, it is no longer my job to put up with douche bags, it's my career choice. That chips away at me as well.

So, what to do? What to do?

I think when you get to a point like this in your life, you have to do some soul searching. You have to ask yourself a lot of very important questions. And if those answers do not relate to where you are currently in your life, you have to then make a very important decision. You may have to jump. Not "suicide" jump, "Van Halen" jump. If you think it's time for a change, you are going to have to plan things out the best you can...and then jump. It's scary as hell. I've done it a couple times. But the older you get, the more difficult it gets. So, with each jump, each consisting of different degrees of difficulty within themselves, they still become progressively harder. Mainly because over the years, you accumulate things like stability, family, roots, and each one of these "grown up" things is affected by bold moves.

It can be tricky, too. Because the older you get, the more value you have...to a point. Sure, at age 40 you probably have a hell of a resume. Lots of experience. But to a potential employer, you are going to cost them more money than a fresh out-of-school applicant with unlimited potential and service. It's like a baseball player's career lifeline. And also, if you are going to do a 180 in the real world, there's a good chance you are going to have to educate yourself. Going back to school at age 30 or 40 can't be a picnic. And then finding a job afterwards? Kudos to those that can pull it off.

Then there's starting your own business. That appeals to me. My beef with my current situation has to do with corporate guidelines, and being "on" constantly...whether it be with the customer or my corporate superiors. With your own gig, some of that can be eliminated depending on what the new gig is. But starting your own business is no cake walk either. Once again, you really have to educate yourself. But I've got more drive to go that direction than to start completely over with school, followed by fresh job hunting.

I'm extremely entrepreneurial minded. I am constantly thinking of ways that I can make that aforementioned exciting living. Sometimes they're realistic ways, other times not. And I have no doubt that I could form a successful business, as long as I had someone to help out with the whole money part of it.

So, with all the above said, that's kind of where I'm at right now. I may stay right where I'm at, or I may decide to jump one of these days. I'm just trying to answer those important questions right now. I'm weighing certain things, thinking about opportunity and consequence, and including "grown up" things in those thoughts.

I'm glad I wrote this down, because I think that it would be a lot healthier, and more fun to shrug people off a little more. That's what they deserve, and I don't deserve high blood pressure just because they don't know how to act. So if you plan on coming into my store, don't be stupid, because you're gonna get laughed at and made fun of from now on. You deserve it.




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Buzzes and Takes

On my way home from work today (my commute is when I do most of my thinking) I started thinking about subtle differences in certain things close to my heart.

Buzzes and takes.

I'm not sure why these two things came up in the ole' bean side by side, because they really have nothing to do with each other...at least not for me. They're just things I dig.

Buzzes, that being how drinking alcohol makes you feel after having a bit. And takes, which is how it feels and looks when certain fish bite what you've cast to them.

Buzzes entered my mind because I had several different kinds while my good friend Vincent visited me last week. There were buzzes created by beer, Scotch, vodka, and wine...all being different animals.

The beer buzz is the sloppy buzz. It isn't a particularly comfortable buzz, due to the amount it takes to fill you up. But given a baseball game Bud or Coors, an after-river Micro, or a snowy day Porter, I'll take a beer buzz anytime. The hangovers can be miserable, though. Long, arduous, and flu-like. It's a fair trade off.

Vodka is an "all of a sudden buzz". I can drink seemingly gallons of vodka without feeling so much as a warm fuzzy (probably not a good thing), and then without warning, it all catches up with me at once ("That's called liver failure, Matt.") I choose to mix my vodka with tonic water, so they are very easy for me to drink quickly. This is most likely part of the reason this happens to me. Hangovers are not as "gross" feeling as beer hangovers, but can be just as severe due to the amount that one can drink in such a short time.

Scotch is delicious. But I rarely get into it enough at one sitting to produce a hangover. The buzzes though...sublime. Not saying I haven't had my fair share of over indulgences in the ways of Scotch, though. Just ask Preacher Tom and Jeffrey. If you happen to put a noticeable dent in a nice bottle of Scotch with a good friend, you will both be immobile the next morning.

While wine is not my first beverage of choice generally, I prefer their buzzes to just about anything. They tend to be potent, clean, sharp, and not "gross". There is really no "to excess" feeling and it does not fill you up. The way wine makes me feel is different than any other drink that I can think of. And I like it.

Shortly after my pondering buzzes, I quickly transitioned to takes. I actully think about that quite a bit. It's the best part about fishing (other than the buzz you aquire afterwards).

Each method, each fish, and each body of water produces a different take. Whether it's a visual take or all feeling.

As soon as a bluegill bites my lure, I know it's a bluegill. It "tap, tap, taps", and after he takes it, he swims side to side, gyrating. Yes, gyrating.

A crappie take is a subtle take that is generally one, maybe two blunt pops, and then you feel an inhalation. That's when you set your hook.

The fish that I get the majority of my takes on nowadays is the trout. I fly fish for them, so it's usually a visual take. With the dry fly, the take can be a ridiculously gentle, slow motion sip, or it can be a voracious attack. Sometimes the trout will nose the fly and decide not to take it at all.

While nymphing pocket water, more times than not you will not feel or see any sort of take. You just have a feeling that he's there. And he usually is.

Other notable trout takes generally happen while stripping a streamer. One, two, or three slams and that's when your 4x tippet breaks.

I love fishing. And I love drinking. That's why I appreciate the intricate details of both.

Goodnight fishing. Goodnight drinking.







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You're the Best...Around!

I was watching a baseball game the other day and the announcers were debating if whether or not Albert Pujols is the best baseball player ever to play the game. Better than Mays, Aaron, DiMaggio, Musial, and Ruth. Better than A-Rod, Bonds, Jeter, and Pete LeCock. Sure, that's a very strong argument. He is without a doubt, one of the best.

It got me to thinking...what it would take to be the absolute best at what you do.

First, you have to have an amazing amount of natural ability. And second, you have to be driven well beyond the likes of your average joe. You have to eat, sleep and breathe whatever it is you are trying to be the best at.

But also, you have to have proven statistical results, or else it's way too subjective.

Albert Pujols, Michael Jordan, Wayne Gretzky, they all are considered arguably the best at what they did or what they currently do. But it's easy to gauge just how good they are with the relentless statistical nature of these games. It's easy to compare Albert to Ruth...statistically.

The only way that I (or anyone) can come close to comprehending how it would feel and what it would take to become the absolute best at something, is to first figure out what it is that you are best at. Or in other words, you're strongest trait, activity, or whatever. Now, that's a pretty broad task to begin with. I, for example, immediately think of fly fishing. But others may think of accounting, lighting a fire without petroleum, pull ups, planting rose gardens, designing cell phones, or yodeling. Let's get back to fly fishing.

Fly fishing is a sport, or at least "part" sport. I consider it an art, a science, a pastime, a hobby, and a subculture as well. But it is the type of sport that is not ruled by stats. So, how is one to know who is the best fly fisherman in the world? Well, there are fly fishing contests and tournaments, but not many. And the majority of the more well known fly fishermen do not compete in these. Would you gauge the best on how much money one has made from the sport? How much knowledge of the history, entomology and technique of the sport? The places traveled and water covered? How many fish you catch? Is it the guy who first broke ground in fly fishing or the guy who carried it to the next level? I'm really not sure.

I consider myself a pretty good fly fisherman. As non-competitive as I consider myself also, I definitely am competitive on the river (not vocally, mentally). There are times when I am not catching many fish and some guy 20 feet away is slaying them, but I may not agree the technique he is using...so which angler is better? If I were to "dumb down" my technique, so to speak, and start catching fish like this guy, am I instantly better? Or am I better by sticking to perhaps a more traditional method?

I think that being the best at something is an impossibility. It's too debatable. It will always be a matter of opinion. It doesn't matter who has the best stats, there will always be arguable variables. Someone today doesn't have much of a leg to stand on when comparing Albert to Ruth, or Albert to Mays. Their positions were different, their eras were different, their competition was different, the fitness science and technology is different, and so forth and so on. Figuring out who the best is at anything is impossible, simply because no one knows who else might be out there that is better. Lance Armstrong is great, but there are a thousand Lance Armstrong's out there that are better cyclists.

"How do you know, butthole?" you ask. I don't know, I suspect. But not all great cyclists enter the Tour de France. Lance did, though, and he won it a bunch of times. Therefore he is considered the best based on his competitive accomplishments. But I guarantee that there are better cyclists, they just choose not to enter races.

So, what is better? Someone who chooses one "activity" and attempts to become better at it than anyone else? Or someone who chooses a handful of "activities" and strives to be pretty good at all of them?

Yvonne Chouinard, founder of the outdoor apparel company, Patagonia, and avid mountaineer, climber, fly fisherman, surfer, and kayaker (at some point in his life), stated in his book, "Let My People Go Surfing" that he strives for 80% perfection when he takes on a new sport. Don't know if those were his exact words, but they're close enough. He says that any more than 80% dedication is too much, and one must focus solely on that one sport if one chooses to push beyond 80%. I'm assuming that he considers 100% expert...the best. So 80%'s gotta be pretty damn good.

But without knowing what 100% is...ie, the best...how do I get to 80%? How do I know when to pull back or to push forward?

I guess I kind of understand. I think of people who have embraced an activity to the fullest...they've made a living out of this activity, they've been a trailblazer in the industry, they eat, sleep, and breathe this activity. And then there are people like Mr. Chouinard who are really good at a lot of things, but not considered the best (although he may be the best at building and running a sustainable company).

I can equally admire both. I don't necessarily own any characteristics of either type, though. I'm good at a few things, like fly fishing and being wicked, but not great at anything. And I'm not sure I've got it in me to strive to the best at something. At this point in my life, that would just be trying to prove something. I am what I am. If someone were to ever consider me the best, it would be by accident on my part. If I become considered the best fly fisherman by others, it will not be because I'm hellbent on being that person, it will be because I genuinely love what I'm doing and as result, have become pretty damn good at it. Unconscious success.

Hell, to people that don't know any better, I may be considered the best fly fisherman to them. I may already be there. I may be just like Albert. Pujols, Jordan, Gretzky, Armstrong, and Todd. I can live with that.



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80's Video of the Week

Alright kids, it's that time again. Time for your weekly dosage of spandex, leather, squealing guitars, and aerosol cans of Aquanet.

I've picked a good one for you this week. It's Winger with "Seventeen".

Kip Winger is a god walking among mortals. His glorious mane rivals Jon Bon Jovi's, and his five o' clock shadow makes George Micheal and Don Johnson both look like hobos. His teeth are as white as the first snow of the season. He is the only rock star that can captivate you with his handsome smile while rocking his bass at the same time. And to top it off, he sings about getting on 17 year old girls. That's top notch.

If I were to put money on it, I'd say that Winger is a friendly rock band. They're always smiling while rocking, which leads me to believe that they get their fair share of seventeen year old strange. What is Kip, 42? And not many rockers can get away with the name "Kip". Even Alice Cooper has a manlier name than Kip Winger. That doesn't stop him from rocking though.

Please watch this video, "Seventeen", by Winger. Allow it to rock your face off...and then rock it back on again.

Rock on, my friends. And rock on, Kip.






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Month of Balance.

I went back to St. Louis last weekend to see my friends and family. Most of them asked how my "month of health" was going. I found that my most frequent answer was, "not bad".

And it's not bad. Different than I expected...but not bad.

During this experiment, I've learned a lot about myself and am still learning. I've grown to appreciate and incorporate a healthy balance. Have I been vigorously training for nothing? No, not at all. Why, you ask? I think it's a combination of things.

I believe that you either have to have a passion for health, or must be unhappy with your current state of being in order to focus 100% on getting in tremendous shape. Although I appreciate tremendous health, I do not have a deep passion for achieving it. I am just curious. Also, I am quite content with my state of being.

Sure, washboard abs would be nice to have. But for what price? Giving up so many other things that make me much happier than abs and concentrating the majority of my spare time on stomach exercises? No thanks. But I can balance eating tasty food that's good for you and doing crunches and sit-ups several times a week along with my usual routine of enjoying a cold beer and a cheeseburger on occasion. That keeps Matt looking and feeling pretty good and staying happy.

I've realized that I have no desire to give up so-called things that are unhealthy. Steak, beer, cocktails, cheeseburgers, lasagna, burritos...I love 'em, and will never give them up. But I've also realized that you have to balance those things out with a healthy lifestyle and moderation. At least I do. And for the record, I've had one cheeseburger, no steak, no burritos, no lasagna, and have cut my beer intake in half.

Each person is different. If someone enjoys throwing on the spandex and having a protein shake before riding 100 miles of mountain road, that's cool. In fact, that's awesome. A part of me is jealous. But the majority of me has absolutely no desire to do that. I am more than content jogging on my treadmill and doing my basement exercises. Then hitting the river and fly fishing for the rest of the day. We both have healthy days, enjoyable days, and more times than not, we both reward ourselves at the end of the day with a frosty cold beer. Everyone wins.

I have also realized that achieving good health is much more difficult than maintaining good health. But you have to have determination and discipline for both. That's why I plan on continuing less eating, healthier eating, and being active everyday even after September is over with. Going from lethargic to very active virtually overnight is no picnic. So now that I have become fairly active, it will be easier to plane out than to go from one extreme to the other.

So, I suppose in a sense I have failed. I have not accomplished everything that I have set out to do in a month's time. I have slipped more than once in the past three weeks. But I have also made some very positive steps. I have lost weight. I have woken up my sleepy lats and abs. I have learned to be conscious of my calorie intake. I have been eating much better. But the most important thing I've learned during these past three weeks and something I have thought very deeply about...Balance.

It not just applies to my experiment, it applies to everything. Everything.

For me, it keeps my body and my mind healthy. A balance of healthy food, greasy food, cocktails, water, juice, milk, country music, rock and roll, jazz, reggae, city, country, mountain, river, staying home, road tripping, patio, couch, cooking, restaurant, campfire, tv, running, lounging, work, days off, certain friends, certain other friends...everything.

Call it well rounded or whatever. I think that balance is the most healthy conclusion that one can come to. My month of health has transformed into a month of balance.

Although my month was not a complete accomplishment, it was still positive and still a success. And it's not over yet.



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Monday Night

So, I'm sitting here with my face in this computer while April watches the previously recorded MTV Video Music Awards. I don't know who anyone is on this show anymore. Well, yea I know who Beyonce' and Kanye' and the JLo and all those kids are. But I don't know who anyone else is.

I suppose that is a good thing.

Also, Monday Night Football is on. I just checked, it's tied in the 3rd.

Please don't be concerned with the status of my manhood, though. If you haven't seen Beyonce's performance on the VMA's yet, let me tell you...it is much better than a bunch of dudes in tights running around groping each other.


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Don.

This was the funniest commercial that I had ever remembered seeing. Was.





Yea, it's funny as shit. And I'm pretty sure that's Burt Reynolds doing the voice over at the end--so that in itself gets points from me.

But I just saw a new commercial that beats any commercial ever produced. There's a chance you've seen it by now because apparently other folks dig it and it's circulating around cyberville.

It's a commercial for Norton Antivirus and it's entitled, "Dokken vs. Chicken".

Like Burt, Dokken also vacates a warm, cozy spot deep in my soul. You see, I'm kind of old, so I know who Dokken is. Sure, I like a couple of their ridiculously cliched 80's metal songs (see my installments of "80's Metal Video of the Week") because they're big, dumb rock...and big, dumb rock makes me grin.

But around three or four years ago when my sister Katie was my roommate, and I had just started dating my now-wife April, Katie and I would go about our cooking or housecleaning while leaving the TV on. We usually just left the music channels on, and on these music channels you can choose from a variety of genre's: Classic Country, New Country, Adult Alternative, Classic Rock, etc, etc. While the music is playing, the screen shows you pictures of the band and little tidbits about them as well.

One evening while we were "watching" said channel, a Dokken song came on. I don't remember the exact tune...probably "Alone Again" or "Into the Fire". I glanced over at the TV in hopes of catching a tidbit about Dokken. And boy, did I!

On January 27, 1988, Los Angeles mayor Tom Bradley gave the 80's metal band, Dokken, the key to the city and pronounced it "Dokken Day".

Katie and I thought that to be spectacular. So we immediately arranged a party for January 27, complete with kegs, 80's metal music, and....that's about it. Unfortunately, for some reason there was no dressing up in 80's metal garb. That was for Kev's 80's Roller Derby Birthday.

At any rate, it was a fantastic celebration. April traveled from Kansas City to be with us, and my good buddy Vinnie made the trip from St. Louis. There were kayaks, stolen church signs that read "Hamfest Parking" and plenty of 80's metal to be had.

Now I live in Colorado. Most of friends live hundreds of miles away. But, with the help of my Dokken Day cohorts, I am confident that Dokken Day will live on in 2010. There will be costumes, kegs of beer, perhaps a stolen sign or two, and most definitely 80's metal featuring Don Dokken and his three brethren.

In my head, the party has already began.

Please enjoy this commercial. It's the funniest commercial this earth has ever seen. Sorry Nannerpuss.




I will be buying anything and everything Norton Antivirus ever makes.

Please have a Happy Dokken Day, my friends.


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