Journey, Supper With Cliff, and Rain.

My first thought of the evening:

Journey is a ridiculous band. Here is the inarguable proof:



Now that you've seen that, there will be no debate.

But the thing about Journey is, although they're ridiculous in a certain sense, they represent something fun. Anything that ridiculous has to be fun.

I have my examples, as I'm sure most everyone reading this does. If you're around or about my age, then you might remember the makeout tunes, "Open Arms" and "Faithfully". Makeout probably isn't the proper term...how about couple skate tunes. Yes, these were the songs all the couples or couple-hopefuls waited to hear at Skate Corral, Skateland, or Skate Port (please insert your local childhood roller skating rink's name here, ie: Skateville, Skatopia, Roller Action Central, or Crazy Lonnie's Skate Shack). "Faithfully" was generally the song that couples skated to, as a way to show their undying love for one another in the form of roller skating together. The couples that really loved one another usually didn't fuck around with holding hands side by side--they faced each other while one of the two skated backwards. If they were extra in love, they would switch skating backwards--guy, then girl. It was truly phenomenal. And no doubt the single moment of the entire week that these two couple skaters could not fucking wait for.

Of course these two Steve Perry-crooned rock ballads were not the first time we had heard of Journey. If you're ten years older than me, then you may have seen Journey on a world tour with the likes of Styx, Van Halen, Cheap Trick, or Ted Nugent. But my first memorable experience of Journey was the classic movie, Caddyshack. Perhaps the funniest moment in cinematic history, when Rodney Dangerfield's character, Al Czervick is in a one-uping conversation with that Italian caddy, D'Annunzio and in rebuttal to Tony's "So what?" Al replies, "So what? So let's dance!" He then cranks up the radio on his high-speed golf bag to "Any Way You Want It" by none other than Journey. Everyone on the golf course dances.

Around the same time as Caddyshack, Journey showed up on my favorite naughty cartoon movie, "Heavy Metal". And although Journey is a far cry from heavy metal, it totally worked in the film. Aliens, animated boobs, and Journey--what a great movie.

Wait, the Journey examples continue.

When I was in my twenties (which I have extremely vague memories...) my good friend Vinnie and I, after a hard day at work would load up in his 1964 Chevy Impala, turn on "Be Good To Yourself" by our friends Journey, and go to the Red Lobster for popcorn shrimp and fruity cocktails. We were being good to ourselves. It was kind of like being on the beach...with Steve Perry.

There were many goofy Journey songs that my friends and I sang along to, generally in an inebriated state. "Lights", "Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'", and "Feeling That Way/Any Time"--that one song that's kinda two songs.

When I proposed to my wife, I did the whole down on one knee bit. I even put a tie on. When she said yes, with joyful tears in her eyes, beside herself at the fact that she was going to be my wife, I quickly pressed play on the iPod, where I had loaded and ready to go "Any Way You Want It". I did the Rodney Dangerfield dance in celebration. Yes, she still married me.

Speaking of...at our reception, in which we had a very strict playlist--or no-play list, I should say, the last song of the night (unbeknownst to us) was "Don't Stop Believing". We jumped on stage--just the two of us--and rocked the hell out of that song.

These are a few examples of where Journey has it's place. If you're a serious music critic-type, which I sometimes am guilty of pretending to be, then Journey is 100% laughable. But that's just it--they make me laugh, they make me smile, they're fun. I mean, just envisioning Steve Perry singing is enough to make you spew Cheerios out your nose. Steve Perry actually makes Chris Robinson look less birdish.

I've always semi-defended Journey by saying, "They're so bad, they're good." And I guess I mean that to a point. They represented safe, overly produced, corny radio rock in the late 70s and early 80s. Those of us who pride ourselves on appreciating "good" music snuff Journey. We listen to different music--punk, roots, reggae, Americana. We don't sit around listening to Journey on headphones, or debating with our friends which Neil Schon solo is the best. Journey is ridiculous.

Yes, they are. But I still like them.

With that stated, I have to watch myself when criticizing my wife or sister or whoever's choice in listening enjoyment. Whenever fucking Rascal Flatts comes on the radio, I have to deal with it. Because even though you and I know it sucks, I like Journey. So I can't say anything. That part's tougher than actually admitting I like Journey.

Second thought of the evening:

When my wife is out of town and it's just me and my good friend Cliff, I enjoy cooking for us. The other night I thawed out a couple sirloin steaks that we get from the family butcher back in Nebraska. Two steaks come wrapped in butcher paper, so I obviously nuked both of them on defrost. Even though I was only hungry for one, I looked into Cliff's deep brown eyes and my heart sank. He's a damn dog. All he ever eats is dog food and table scraps. This dog is one of my best friends--he never bitches about anything, he's always elated to see me, he loves to go fishing and camping, and he always listens when I've got something on my mind. Also, he's probably only going to live another 15 years at most. Dogs get jipped that way. Then add the fact that he's a carnivore.

Needless to say, I fired up two perfectly rare steaks on the grill that evening. One for me, one for Cliff. Jesus, was that dog happy. He looked at me as to say, "Holy shit, man. Thank you. Thank you so much. That was amazing. You're my best friend. Best friend always."

So obviously last night I barbecued some chicken thighs--once again to perfection-- to share with my carnivorous friend. He wanted those chicken bones, but choking is uncool, so I shredding the meat off the bone for him. He was still appreciative.

Tonight...bacon cheeseburgers. Two for me, two for Cliff. Right now Cliff's asleep and I'm fat. But it's cool, we took a jog earlier.

Third thought of the evening:

I live in Colorado nowadays. We don't get rain, or thunderstorms, or tornadoes too often. Back in Missouri, we did. A lot. But now that I'm residing in a drier climate, I miss those things. Sure, I don't miss the death and destruction of tornadoes, probably 'cause I never lost my house or died due to one. But I do miss the feeling.

The smell of rain. The flash of lightning followed by the delayed roar of thunder. The adrenaline you get during a bad storm. The amazement of how powerful and non-caring a storm can be.

It's raining right now a little bit. I immediately shut off all noise in the house so I could listen to the raindrops on the metal roof of my sunroom. It's weird, the things you miss. Of course, Missouri is under water right now, so I imagine I'd be a little pissed if I were getting rained on there...again.

Journey, supper with Cliff, and rain. That's what I've got going on tonight.


.

Rant and Joy.

Man, what an awful day. Life would be so much more enjoyable if I didn't have to spend the majority of it away from the things that make me feel alive inside.

I tell ya, I've tried. I've tried to incorporate my passions into a nine-to-fiver. But until you can completely call all the shots in whatever financial endeavor you're immersed in, everyday jobs just flat-out suck. At least in this disgruntled bitch's experience.

As I clench my teeth, close my eyes, and take deep breaths to control the fits of anger caused by people I don't necessarily care for, I take a moment of escape and envision a stress-free life where I am neck-deep in all the things I love. The outdoors, the good times, the people I choose to spend my time with. It's all stress-free. I envision this, and it annoys me that it seems so feasible--so realistic. How can I escape these annoyances? The thousands of people per week that I deal with--many of whom I do not care for and hope to never cross paths with again. The low pay accompanied with low reward. The co-workers that I see more often than I see my family and friends.

We shouldn't have to live like this.

Sure, it's bitching. It's griping. It's ranting and venting. But the cold reality of this whole 'everyday job' thing is that it's what I spend the majority of my life doing and I don't like it. Work is not my second home...it's my first home. I spend more time at my place of business than I do at my own house. "Geez Matt, we all do!" you might say. Some of you might spend 60+ hours a week at the office. I don't care. If you're cool with that situation...if you're content, nice. You shouldn't be, but nice. Enjoy that two weeks off a year.

I'll keep working on it. I'll keep working on a solution to eliminate the nine-to-fiver...no matter how romantic the job might sound. The idea of jobs and the reality of jobs are two entirely different things. For those of you who understand and appreciate my rant, cool. For those who don't, I admire your contentedness.

For everyone else, please enjoy this video of AC/DC not working a nine-to-fiver. It's worth every bit of the ten minutes...

Sorry for being a dick.