Plummet

I'm going to take my lead from Christine's blog this morning and write about a dream I had last night. Normally I forget my dreams but hours later I am still haunted by some of these images...

I find myself amid a forest of concrete and metal giants. They're vertical hold on the sky so complete that no rays of sunshine reveal the infinite expanse above. I can see shadows moving in the windows of these urban leviathans but the streets are devoid of any sound or flicker. Feeling an expanding loneliness I drift through the transparent portal and find myself in a peaceful yet bustling lobby. No one seems to notice me as I digest the ghost like clamor around me so I make sure to take my time and try to put some kind of rationality to this phantom of my subconscious.
With a record's skip I am suddenly walking up a mass network of ramps and stairs. The walls bleed the same eerie calm I felt in the lobby so I can only assume I have begun to explore. There are people in every direction but they are all moving with me. We are debris in a river whose current is carrying us to an inevitable direction that becomes more frightful with every silent step.
Our pace flutters for a minute as we pass through a gate of shiny steel and glass. I am outside staring at the faces of the buildings that appeared so epic from the ground. Less intimidating now my curiosity is replaced by hesitance. We are miles above the earth, now part of the sky. A dream sought after by imaginations since the dawn of our species yet I feel my feet begin to drag as if with every step forward the concrete was holding me back.
On the top of this man made achievement I find a finely trimmed grass field. The size of a football field it makes the magnitude of the building that much more impressive. My fellow lemmings seems to be dispersing throughout the field, awaiting some display or entertainment. I feel a gentle hand fold itself into mine and we begin to walk forward. I am now with a group of 4. Their faces familiar but unrecognizable. The vision holding my hand wears a smile that is both beautiful and frightening. Her eyes seem to hold a terrible secret that pushes her tears to the brink. Is she my hope or my fear?
We approach the edge of the field and the ground begins to drip down towards the earth as water falls from a cliff. It is at this moment that I feel an icy spectral grip around my heart. Every exhale a frosty chill. My love's hand has abandoned me and with nothing to keep my mind on the ground I close my eyes.
A silent echo tears through my soul, shattering the fragile barrier between calm and panic. I begin to fall. An eternity passes by in a flash of lighting. I am beyond my perceptions, beyond reality, beyond fear or hope. I reach out is desperation to return to my surroundings. To grab something familiar and contain this sensation. To make myself feel small again.
Finally I manage to grab a patch of grass. In an instant that feeling is gone. I open my eyes and I am in my bed. My knuckles are white from grabbing onto my pillow, the only physical evidence of my ordeal. In my heart and mind I can still feel that icy calm that had me so petrified. My worst fear brought to bear on my very essence. I hate Mondays...

Our Soul's Revival

As I begin to write I can hear the echoing words of an elderly gentlemen reciting that old adage "Why back in my day..." aluding to a simpler and more imaginative time. Knowledge had to be learned and digested rather than googled. Music was discussed and analyzed rather than downloaded in bulk. Art, in all its forms, could be held and appreciated rather than clicked on. It is in this simplicity that I believe we have begun to neglect our creative spark.
We have had to sacrifice our desire for expression to the banality of fiscal responsibility. Artists have always battled the ever growing trivial exsistence that the majority of us suffer through day after day. Their passion can be admired or mocked, revered or ridiculed, embraced or discarded. Yet they fight on keeping our imaginations alive. I envy them in their ability to follow their passion and not be bogged down by the incessant commonality that pulls at us like the hands of a needy child.
We must reclaim our spirit and imagination. Step back from the world or actualities and see the endless possibilities that are truly before us. Throw off the bromidic shackles and embrace you're creative thoughts. Express yourself without judgment or recourse. Paint a picture, learn an instrument, take a photograph. All we can do is hope to balance out our logial and creative minds to achieve a sense of balance without losing what makes us individuals.

Temperate Fever

As a transplant to this wonderful slice of heaven the German's named San Diego, I have come to notice a variety of differences between living here and living in the precursor to an Ice Age better known as New England. Many of the differences can be spotted by any observer such as driving ability, concept of time, and awareness of surroundings. Some however, are much more difficult to ascertain ( i.e.Native San Diegan's lean towards the sun when they stand, its true!). The one that has piqued my curiosity was what I originally assumed to be an absence of what we on the east coast call “Spring Fever”.

For those of you unfamiliar with the term, “Spring Fever” is the coupling off of individuals after a long and cold winter. As the sun thaws the snow, love birds seems to come out of the wood work. It never fails that as soon as its warm enough to go outside with only one jacket on, hand holding will be as rampant as the plague in the dark ages!

Since San Diego lacks the winter season, I just assumed that Spring Fever didn't apply. What I have come to realize is that Spring Fever is an epidemic in warmer climates. Pairing off is always in full effect in sunny SoCal and without the winters to give us a break, we are exposed to couples year round. Winter is natures version of a cold shower where we take the time to think and explore our inner selves. Without it we are just a bunch of doped up teenagers cruising the strip looking for fine Betty's. Essentially we are living in a 50's high school movie.

I'm not saying all couples are bad, I know a few tolerable ones in fact, but since we lack the weather to isolate us I believe that many of us also lack the ability to be alone. If you're surrounded by couples all the time then you start thinking about becoming a couple yourself, and that's how they get you!

I am used to hearing about people suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD....weak) so maybe there is a bizarro version that affects us out here on the west coast. I will call it Seasonal Phasic Affliction Control Emulating Yearning Syndrome or SPACEYS for short. Now that you have been classified, we can work on a cure.

There are many differences between the two locations varying largely due to climate but that doesn't mean we can't all get a long. Maybe San Diego will get its cold shower one day I just hope I am not here to experience it. Although I do miss all the SAD people back on my home glacier, I think dealing with the SPACEYS out here is just a little bit easier...

The Emperor's Outdated Clothes

I find myself perplexed. It could be the complicated case House is trying to solve. Perhaps the half bottle of wine I just consumed, who knows? Regardless.
What differentiates someone who doesn't know how to present themselves, someone who does, and someone who doesn't care? Interestingly "doesn't" seems to be incorrectly spelled, thank you red underlining program. You humiliate me once again.

Since I started working in what most have come to call the Real World I have been told that I have to present a certain image. Tie, collared shirt, nice pants, shoes...ugh. I realize when I don these garments I emanate a certain classy Alpha status but does that represent who I am? Ask around, not true.

For some reason we seem hung up on looks. Shocking I know but please, sit back down. I have more to say. For some reason this style seems to placate our general uneasiness when meeting a new person. A tie, an upside down noose, displays authority and responsibility? I think I have it figured out! The more time you spend making sure you look presentable means you spend more time being responsible. . .

Wait, that can't be right. It really means you are more concerned with appearances than you are with achievements. That's right, I'm calling you out! Spend more time thinking and less dressing!
My point, which no one could figure out because I just realized it myself, is that we reward selling out over being independent. Conform to the standard and be loved, reject it and be treated with disdain. Why should we reward individuality in the business world? The true success comes from getting in line not coloring outside the lines. It all makes sense now, everybody can relax.

"Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society." Vanity, thy name is culture.
Truth is, I really just love my flip flops...

Baby It's Cold Inside...

I am susceptible to over indulgent thought about the hypocrisy and general insanity of this society we have built. Don't get me wrong, I like having the safety net of civilization keeping me from plunging into an abyss of lawless debauchery but nets have holes the you sometimes slip through. Since the oddly named “Holiday Season” is upon us (There are only 3 holidays in this season), I decided to use some mental resources to explore not the origins but the reality of our cultural traditions. I must warn you that my views are often called pessimistic and cynical. That is a fair analysis of my general world view but I prefer to acknowledge the inherent evils in everything rather than ignore them. By only discussing the benefits and avoiding the pitfalls, you allow ignorance to survive. I digress, lets talk tradition.

Valentine's Day (aka Single's Awareness Day)

I thought I would start light with one of the more controversial "holidays". On paper this is one of the most beautiful holidays of the year. Loving couples take time away from their busy lives to spend time together and appreciate their love for each other. . . Sorry I'm getting a little misty over here.

In reality this is probably one of the most dreaded and hated holidays. Why do we need to advocate a specific day for couples to express love? Shouldn't that be an everyday event and not a penciled in date on a calendar? The truth is that it can be frustrating for couples as it is another day where expectations are high and expenses are great. Love should not be displayed through pressure and cultural dictation.

The flip side is it also alienates those individuals who either have not found or choose not to be in such relationships. Window displays, commercials, and a relentless social desire to see happy couples creates a vacuum between these two life styles. Love is meant to be displayed, not broad casted. Shared, not forced. Celebrated, not expected. By spending a day celebrating your commitment along with millions of other individuals, you cheapen your unique experience and blend it with a cultural stereotype.

I would be remiss not to give a shout out to all my wait staff brethren. Valentine's day is the weakest holiday for a restaurant since only couples go out. I have felt your pain and know your suffering.

“Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes.” - Marquis De Sade

Thanksgiving

A time of togetherness, sharing, love and over indulgence. Only America could create a holiday where we gather around mass quantities of food and alcohol, consume more than some 3rd world countries, then lounge around a television or dinner table attempting not to over exert ourselves. The fallacy of this holiday is apparent even to a child so I feel it needs no further explanation. And before you roll your eyes, it is one of my favorite three holidays since it focuses more on appreciation and family than materialistic trappings.

“When I behold a fashionable table set out in all its magnificence, I fancy that I see gouts and dropsies, fevers and lethargies, with other innumerable distempers lying in ambuscade among the dishes. Nature delights in the most plain and simple diet. Every animal but man keeps to one dish. Herbs are the food of this species, fish of that, and flesh of a third. Man falls upon everything that comes in his way; not the smallest fruit or excrescence of the earth, scarce a berry or a mushroom can escape him.” - Joseph Addison

Christmas

Never has been born a more savage hypocrisy than that of Christmas. Under the guise of love, unity, and family we are force fed fairy tales while injecting the need for materialism into our very being. Mimicking Valentine's in its theoretical perfection, the corruption of humanity has cheapened this supposedly blissful experience. Even now, not one full day into December, I can feel society's commercial advances breathing down my neck. There are those that celebrate this holiday in a remarkably beautiful way by expressing love and acceptance without an underlying foundation of money and goods. These magnificent prodigies are few and far between however as the majority of us still fall victim to the impulse of “gift buying”. There is no replacement for the level of familial interaction and exchange that Christmas provides and for that I am thankful. In fact that is one of the only aspects of the holiday season that makes it bearable but couldn't we do better? As with Valentine's, why do we need a day set aside to appreciate those we love in life? Why can't we spread it out over the year? Buy a gift for someone when you see something that they would like rather than rush through a list. If you truly love someone then you should devote the time to appreciating them that they deserve. Clustering your appreciation into one day seems to cheapen the very message of compassion that the holiday is supposed to represent.

“Avarice, the spur of industry” - David Hume

New Years

Can you imagine a lazier day of the year than the very first one? We spend our time recovering from a years worth of partying and celebration that we compressed into one jovial evening. We swear before this day to change our ways and resolve to improve ourselves. Then the day comes and we are just as lazy as we were the year before. I'll admit there are very few resolutions I have stuck to so I am just as guilty. The reason this day singles out our laziness is because we actually decided to achieve something and then let it fall by the road side. It is one thing to never attempt to advance but quite another to make promise then willingly fail.

“We excuse our sloth under the pretext of difficulty.” - Marcus Fabius Quintilian

In order for there to be good there has to be bad, its a fundamental principle. The traditional value of these holidays is without reproach. If we only took the time to acknowledge their short comings, imagine the benefits we could reap. Season's Greetings!

Flavorful Feline - 2006 Fat Cat Pinot Noir

When I was younger, one of my simple pleasures was waking up, diving head first into the fridge, and digging for the last strawberry banana yogurt. I was transported back to those days this weekend when I opened a bottle of 2006 Fat Cat Pinot Noir. The first aroma of ripe strawberries and bananas is easy to discern even for the novice wine drinker. As you give the wine time to open up and fully breath, you begin to delve deeper into the subtle scents of cherries and assorted floral combinations.

The first taste gently slides over your tongue with almost zero tannins, creating a smooth and crisp tactile experience. It is hard not to close your eyes and imagine a warm summer day coming to a close with this playful yet subtle vintage. It is a perfect compliment to sweeter snacks and indulgences such as candied nuts, sweet cheeses, and of course any number of decadent desserts.

One of the most beneficial aspects of this wine is its ability to placate both white and red drinkers alike. To me, Pinot truly is a white varietal masquerading as a red and Fat Cat is my closing argument. Sweet and light enough for a white but deep and challenging enough for a red. It is one of the most crowd pleasing and affordable wines I have sampled in the recent months. Make sure to have this on your rack–a good Pinot always comes in handy.

Limitations

A group of friends decided to have a party to carve pumpkins, I wasn't invited. Starbucks was giving away free coffee, I wasn't told. Threadless had a fashion show, I didn't see it. It seems in todays fast paced social atmosphere the concept of one on one interaction is disappearing. Replaced by a virtual soap box dubbed Web 2.0. Though this new revolution of social networking is shattering our previous limitations, we are paying a hefty price.

Gone are the days of greeting neighbors on the street or idle conversation with a stranger. We have become slaves to our own creations where we spend our time communicating with people all over the world while ignoring the immediate reality around us. All of our improved communication has created a bubble around our individuality and formed a vacuum for personal interaction.

How many times have you been eating a meal to have someone excuse themselves so they can answer what is most likely an arbitrary phone call? Our generation is more interested in Facebook relationship status updates than the people standing a few feet away from them. We can now answer any question and communicate with anyone in the world with just a few pushes of a button but we are losing our need for the physical.

I am not saying that these new tools shouldn't be used and developed. Social media has brought the potential for tremendous enlightenment to people from all different walks of life. Education, travel, and many other aspects of our lives have changed for the better but we must not ignore where our desire for contact comes from. Its not a chat room or a web page but rather with flesh and blood people in different physical situations.

Though I reside in the spectrum of social media I have yet to delve right into the deep end. I prefer to use these tools as a way to broaden my knowledge and communicate with colleagues on a wide range of concepts. It is not a replacement nor even a supplement for my desire to talk to people face to face. It is this feeling that stirs a slight feeling of isolation. I am not the norm because I don't share every aspect of my life with the Internet community. I prefer to share my thoughts with actual speaking and not posts that have suffered through editing and scrutiny.

I equate the social media community with standing in a dark cave with thousands of other individuals. If I yell loud enough, my voice can be heard echoing throughout. If other people like what they hear they will pass the message further down the cave. If they don't they will shout back, a faceless specter in the dark. Without being able to see my opponent, my frustration can quickly develop into hatred or even rage. We have all heard of such stories in the media of suicides, gang fights, and stalkings that have been born of this creation. Without the restraint of common decency we are nothing but savages.

Though I could speak volumes about the benefits and ailments of our current on-line culture I feel I have made my point. Social Media is an exciting and expansive resource. Being able to connect to billions of people and limitless information can actually make you feel omnipotent or at least brilliant. It is when we give in to this revelation that we start to lose our physical selves. Eye contact becomes a screen name. Conversation becomes a blog. Friendship becomes a profile setting.

Losing our psyche in this endless expanse of opinion and information is a dangerous thought and I for one prefer to keep my feet on the ground and my head in the clouds so I propose a simple idea: speak. Make sure you spend more time talking than typing. Stop virtualizing you life and return to the days where people talked to each other and not at each other. Its a two way street and we're turning it into an on-ramp.

A Wave of Passion - 2006 Gnarly Head OVZ

If you could add a deep passionate flavor to the overwhelming power of a wave crashing against the rocks you would be close to a taste of Gnarly Head Old Vine Zinfandel. When you first inhale the bouquet of this robust varietal you will find yourself lost in your own senses. The deep red currant can only be matched with a zestful flavor of blackberries and rich earthy undertones.

This is not a wine for the faint of taste. Its initial impact conceals the complexity of its diverse underlying flavors ranging from sweet cherry to deep rich chocolate. Each sip unlocks new sensations that can manifest as a satisfied sigh or a euphoric cloud enveloping your mind so be prepared.

Fans of dark chocolate, seasoned meats, and sweet desserts will find this wine a welcome compliment to this commune of taste. It can also be enjoyed on its own while watching the sun set on a cool summer evening. The warming effect of this Zin can calm even the most restless of hearts. Let go of your self and be enveloped by the fruitful experience that is presented to so perfectly in this elegant creation. As Plato once said "Pleasure is the bait of Zin."

XXV

Its been just over a month and a week since I turned 25 and I haven't been this confused about life since I was 13. Granted back then my confusion was on how to take off a girls bra (which I've mastered) and how to get a girl to let me take her bra off (work in progress). Now my confusion seems to be between my former party persona and my responsible real world identity. That and running for the House of Representatives.

For the past few years I have always made fun of the notion of being an "adult" and "responsible" but on my birthday that reality came crashing through my door like a drunk frat boy roommate during pledge week. At least responsibility didn't have a 300-pound busted sorority girl in tow. Since then my mind has been torn between mature planning and reckless abandon.

A friend recommended I organize my thoughts in relation to other 25 year olds around me. I'll start simply with what I will call the “responsible adult”. This 25 year old has been exposed to the real world for several years and a career for at least half of that time. They are the type of person who won't hesitate to do work on weekends, plan and cook their meals for an entire week, and go to the gym as if their life depended on it. Though a noble breed this class of adult lacks spontaneity and a vivaciousness for life. Perfectly content to avoid impulsive activities and spend their time planning out the day ahead. Though I do not fear this designation, I am hesitant to embrace it for fear of the mundane.

That fear leads me to the next type of 25 year old we'll call the “Wayward Quarter Lifer”. This individual goes out until 5AM on a Monday just for the hell of it. Be it bar, house party, trip to Mexico or a party boat this person weighs all of their options and goes for the one that will exhaust them the most. Known for their ability to run on two hours of sleep and a diet consisting mostly of red bulls, these crusaders keep the entire 25 year old stigma young and reckless. Traditional job related responsibilities do not apply to them since they work to play and nothing more. This is probably the loudest voice in my head but thankfully the others are working together to drown it out.

The final and most terrifying of these personas is the “Progerian Adult”. This is the person who graduated from college, got married 5 seconds later, and are already firing out babies like a t-shirt cannon at a Celtics game. These people have not only embraced responsibility they are treat it like a drunk prom date. They have no idea what they are doing but they keep going. I worked with an individual like this at a previous job and could not be more baffled by his addiction to being tied down. He had his own demons to battle though. I saw his “Wayward Quarter Lifer” come out on one or two occasions and let me just say that repressing those urges will only lead to making an ass out of yourself when you release them. Thankfully he picked up the tab.

These are just some of the voices that have sprung up in my mind since turning 25. A weight of thought and introspection has continued to grow inside my head threatening to destroy my impulsive ways for ever. Bills vs bars, travel vs savings, Shots vs....well I am going to keep drinking shots but you get the point. Its not that my youth has gone away but there is a new bully on the playground who threatens to take my lunch money from here on out and I will be damned if I don't have enough for chocolate milk!

A Quiet Storm - 2006 Smoking Loon Cabernet

Just the name itself brings me back to autumn nights spent staring across a placid lake. With the first enchanting aroma, I can feel a cool breeze coming across the open water barely disturbing the mirror image of the full moon. Though grown far from my home, this wine brings me right back to my roots.

Smoking Loon as an almost over whelming sense of rich juicy berries combined with the scent that precedes a storm. This refreshing but powerful combination boldly takes over your taste buds in a triumphant symphony of flavor. A more tactile description would me 1,000 delicate fingers grasping your tongue in a warm embrace. Its western heritage infused with sweet tastes brings us back to cool evenings spent in quiet contemplation of life around us.

An excellent accompaniment to any strongly flavored meats such as fillets, split chicken, or even duck. The power of this wine quickly subdues simpler plates but that isn't to say they are not enhanced by it. This is a bold, unforgiving wine with its own identity and must be treated as such.

However, its strength belies the clarity of its underlying compliments. Though powerful, this wine can be enjoyed by almost any red enthusiast. The juiciness of a zin, the earthiness of a cab, and sweetness of a pinot all rolled into one simple package. I enjoyed my final glass while staring up at a twinkling sky over shadowed by a moon barely into its waning phase. Though far from home, this wine has sent me back to those carefree nights and insightful thoughts that we all seek in this constant turmoil we call life. Sometimes we just need a minute to stop and breathe. Delicious.

Many voices One sound

Waking up before noon on a weekend is a confusing experience for me. Perhaps my mind is just unaware that the “AM” realm of time exists on weekends as well as weekdays. Who knows? As perplexing as it is for me, I know not to waste the precious morning hours I have remaining. The major benefit of sleeping so late is that by this point almost all my friends are awake and doing things so I don't have to be apart of the drawn out planning stages of an activity. I remember a group was heading down to protest Prop 8 and since I hadn't fought for civil rights in ages I decided to round up some stragglers and head down.

We met up with the March around 4^th & Fir streets and proceeded to blend into the crowd. Maybe blend isn't the right word since most everyone had a sign or shirt supporting equality and we looked like we had just rolled out of bed and trucked over from PB. This is in fact what we had done and I could tell some of my fellow freedom fighters took notice but didn't care since we were there supporting in our best capacity.

It was fascinating to see 20,000 or so people marching through the streets of downtown with car horns blaring and chants being shouted. The buildings seemed to resonate the passion being displayed as we blocked intersections and cheered for tolerance. Rarely do you have the opportunity to take you individuality and combine it with so many others to become one voice. It me feel as though I were a tiny drop in a sea of people but with all our force we could reshape the world.

I'm not sure how far we traveled as we passed from parks to buildings to ocean. With each step I felt more united with those around me. The vibrations of their voices echoing in my chest. The field of colors constantly shifting and moving for blocks ahead. The sheer energy that had caught us all in its wake...

It has been a very long time since I felt so connected to my fellow man. Despite our different backgrounds and beliefs we were all united under a blazing hot sun to fight for those who couldn't fight alone. No longer was it a tabled discussion between competing ideals. No longer was it an opinion or a disagreement. We brought the tide of equality and sent its wave crashing against the rocks of ignorance and injustice.

After we had reached the end of our trek and our impression had been made, several of us decided to retire to a local bar and reminisce. Even though we had all taken part, we all had different stories and impressions of the experience. We had fought as one and brought our individuality to the battle. Its this type of community that can move mountains. Its this type of strength that can create change.