good luck beating that, 2012. 

so, this is christmas

I knew the weed was kicking in when my fingers became cold. My body temperature was dropping and I felt my head bobbing back and forth with the motion of the bus. Not violently, but in a way that made my head feel about 3 pounds heavier.  

And then came the intense focus on listening. “I have super human hearing right now!” was the first thing I muttered when I was fully lit. I could hear everything: the drunken, murmuring up front, the three clowns arguing about nothing a few feet away, every word to Theophilus London playing in the background, the crunch of Fritos beneath someone’s feet. I was taking it all in. I wished my hearing would stay that way; listening with such clarity and focus. 

Everything was funny. Every insight, groundbreaking. Every moment deserved my undivided attention and love. I was hunched over with my arms crossed into my chest and just staring, listening to my terrific friends and being thankful. I kept making mental notes to remember how thankful I was to have such amazingly funny and entertaining friends, each with his own “classic” identity that amplified itself when inebriated, or at least when I was. I’d keep it together and giggle like mad every 2 minutes when someone would say or do something that so perfectly summed up who they were:

“I’m really feeling like opening these shades is what I wanna do right now. Yea guys, let’s open these shades and see the sun.”
He opens the shades and the rays of a perfect sunset splash in.
“Wow, this is the best idea I’ve ever had in my entire life. It’s such a beautiful sunset guys.”
Without missing a beat, someone yells from the back: “Shut the f*ck up.”
I laugh hysterically. So classic those guys! 

I wanted so badly to write on that bus, to remember what I was feeling and record my thoughts about the characters around me. I was high and freezing. My sense of hearing was incredible and moving proved to be overstimulating. So was eating. Someone tossed me a fun sized Snickers bar and it kicked my ass. Chocolate and nougat pounding away at the tip of my tongue. I raised my hand to get the attention of the drunken horde:
“Guys, this flavorful chocolate bar may have been a huge mistake on my part. It is just too intense for me right now. Please be careful.” 
We all laughed. I was hilarious.

While I kept climbing I became more still, listening harder. I was now picking up subtle changes in road noise and hearing the small rattle of a zipper from the luggage packed behind me. My vision was in tilt-shift, adjusting my focus as I listened in on a quiet conversation up front:

“I’m not f*cked up right now. I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are! Don’t lie!” I yelled across the bus.
Everyone’s head turned.
“Why are you listening in on our conversation motherf*cker? How did you even hear us from back there?”
“Cuz I told you, I can hear EVERYTHING right now motherf*ckers!!”
We all laughed. I was hilarious.  

It was fun while it lasted and it lasted a more than a few discomforting hours. Edibles are to be taken with caution, boys and girls. I think it’s real what they say about our true selves being revealed under the influence; in vino veritas. I suppose that means deep down I’m just a giggly bitch who loves his friends and wants to write about how great life is. What I miss the most, even more than the super human hearing, is the courage that comes with the high. Well, not so much courage as it is diminishing fear and insecurity. I needed a guitar and a mic on that bus. I played DJ without giving two shits what other people thought about the music I was playing. It was good enough for me. 

This is all stoner talk and I sound like an imbecile, but I swear I had some genuine bouts of clarity while I was high. I was happy and grateful and brave. I wanted to write and make music. I had deep empathy and compassion for the people around me, as flawed as we were. I was a funny sonuvabitch too. I’d like to think that’s who I really am. I’d also like to have the super human hearing back. Classic me. 

It’s always the morning after that’s most revealing. Whether it means recovering from tragedy or reveling in triumph, the morning after is what defines us. Throughout each of our personal histories of break ups, and birthdays, and pink slips, and funerals, and graduations, there come those mornings when we can’t believe what just happened the day before. Sometimes we wake up numb to it, like we almost forgot. When we lose a loved one it seems we become surrounded with daily reminders of their absence: a picture, a scent, a sound.

September 11th was the most significant global event that affected each of us personally. For those old enough to remember, it shook us then and the shock of the day is still palpable. The aftermath of that one morning has shoved and wriggled its way into our lives in innumerable ways. But now, looking back 10 years later, I remember September 12th, the morning after. I remember being relieved that I could return to my routine. I remember feeling thankful the chaos was over, and naively certain that the terrorists were done for now. I imagined the potential devastation of repeated, relentless attacks and I prayed for our country’s protection. It was a confusing morning, but eerily peaceful. Pensive.

In some ways, it feels like it’s taken 10 years for the collective morning after to arrive. Reading and watching all the memorials and commemorations yesterday it felt like the last 10 years were just a chaotic mix of reaction and adjustment to the events of that morning. But now, 10 years later, maybe we’ve finally turned the clock to greet the morning after. To reflect and remember and to turn our ‘new normal’ into a better normal: a grateful return to routine but with hearts and minds moved for the better.

It’s the morning after that will define us as a nation and I think the clock may have finally clicked over. Let’s rebuild. Let’s revive. Let’s be renewed as Americans strong in resolve, deep in compassion and ready to lead. Just as 9/11 was a collectively personal experience, 9/12 must be the same; each one of us, making it our personal duty to make life better for one another. And considering the hell we’ve just walked through together, that would be one heaven of a morning after.

So, last night’s Saints-Packers game was classic proof that I am indeed cursed. I’ve joked about it for years, and then the laughter turned to tears as I watched my Skins fail year after year after year. The curse is no joke and I’m gonna prove it now. 

I started a site to track all my NFL predictions and analyze what happens to them. I’ll probably make some gambling folks good money along the way. If you’re into the NFL or curious about my curse or like to bet on games or if you like anything that you enjoy then you’ll probably find this palatable: Cursed Bets

And now, a shameless self-aggrandizing excerpt: 

If you’re wrong, you’re wrong. How is it a curse?  

It’s not that I’m wrong, it’s how close I am to being right. Anybody can be wrong, but it takes a special kind of curse to string you along til the last possible second - only to be wrong in the end anyway. It’s a cruel suspense, but I’m sure it’s thrilling for the people who bet against me.

Game 1, week 1 of the 2011 season is a perfect example of my curse. The Saints were 4.5 point underdogs to the defending champion Packers. I took the Saints to cover in what I thought would be a close, high-scoring shootout. It was an incredible game: 2 TDs on special teams, Aaron Rodgers throws 3 TDs in the first quarter, Drew Brees lights it up in the second half. Down 27-42 in the 4th quarter, the Saints score with 2:15 left in the game to pull within 8. They fail to recover the onside kick. Green Bay ball at the Saints 45 and the defense only has one timeout. Game over, right? Nope! The Packers can’t convert on 3rd and 4 and are forced to punt with 1:05 to play. The punt is perfectly executed and it looks like they’ve pinned the Saints at their own 1 yd line. Game over, right? No, wait! The ref calls it a touchback - Saints ball at the 20. Drew Brees is in shotgun with 1:01 left and no timeouts. He throws 4 beautiful passes to drive the Saints down to the Green Bay 11. With :03 left in the game Brees drops back and throws a laser to the end zone - incomplete. Game over, right? No, wait! Pass interference on AJ Hawk! Saints ball at the 1 yd line! They’re gonna score! They’re gonna cover! The curse is lifted! Last play of the game with no time on the clock: Mark Ingram, halfback dive from the 1 yd line. Splat. Stonewalled. Game over, Packers win 42-34. After the game, Trey Wingo tweets: “76 points… and it takes a defensive stand from the one, on an UNTIMED play to seal it.” Profootballtalk can’t explain why Sean Payton, one of the most brazen playcallers in league history, lost his nerve on the Saints’ last chance.The curse lives on. 

this is a beautiful piece by richard choi. he’s a great friend, he’s very talented, and i’m so proud to know him. 

I think about death a lot. Not really about the fear of dying or what happens after we die, but my own death and what it would mean. I never think about how I might die and rarely do I think about when, but I do agonize over my funeral. Who shows up, what words are spoken, what music is played. God I hope they laugh a lot. I wish I could orchestrate it all - not so much because I love a good funeral, but because on some not-so-deep a level I think I’m obsessed with how I’ll be remembered. I’m deathly afraid of being reduced to a boring label or one lame aspect of my life. I don’t want to be caricatured. What a self-absorbed twat I am for thinking of these things. It probably explains why I’ll never actually achieve anything great in life - too busy wanting, not enough doing. 

But anyway… 

Prior to my eventual death, I’d like to be crystal clear about a few things that may not be so obvious:

1. For all the hate I pretend to harbor, I really do love people. Especially the honest ones. I love people who stay true to themselves and loyal to their friends. I would die for any one of these people and moreover, I would kill for them. Nothing is more important or valuable than a true friend and I consider myself immensely wealthy here.
2. Beef jerky is awesome and no matter how much of it I eat before I die, I wish I’d had more. 
3. Of all the things I’ve wanted to do in life, the only non-diminishing dream I’ve ever had was to be a musician. It’s also my greatest source of fear and insecurity. This is both sad and disappointing, but perfectly normal for all of us living our lives at half-speed. Shame on us.
4. Seriously, beef jerky in all flavors: peppered, sweet and spicy, teriyaki, some magical new brew that I haven’t even experienced yet, they’re all so awesome. Wherever I’m going next, I hope they have beef jerky. 
5. I’m not lazy; I’m just uninspired most of the time. Life is easy, living is hard.
6. Trust me on the whole beef jerky thing, I’ve had other jerkys: deer, salmon, turkey, they’re not the same. There’s something about the texture and consistency of beef jerky that makes it far better than other jerkys. It’s an unparalleled chewing experience. My favorite part is how shards get stuck between your molars sometimes and the flavors kinda implant themselves into your mouth, kind of like an exclusive after-party just for the taste buds on the tip of your tongue.

Glad we’ve cleared that up.     

classic sungtae

it just hit me today that i’m actually living Chandler Bing’s life:

1. nobody knows what I do for a living
2. I have lots of magazine subscriptions, several with my name misspelled
3. I was friends with my wife’s siblings in college, before I even met my wife
4. I was friends with my wife before dating
5. My wife is a bossy, type-A neatfreak with a love for organization and itineraries
6. I married someone I initially dated secretly
7. I dumped the majority of my savings into a wedding/honeymoon
8. I got married earlier than all my friends
9. I want to do something more fun or artistic for a living (advertising/writing)
10. I have a womanizing best friend of marginal celebrity (yes, you - korean ryan seacrest) 
11. I’m occasionally mistaken as homosexual
12. could I be any more sarcastic?
13. I suck at quitting jobs, relationships and membership services
14. When compared to other guys I’m almost always referred to as ‘the funny one’
15. I can’t dance
16. I can’t cry
17. I love bubble baths
18. I started out skinny, got really fat and now I’m trying to reach normal size again
19. I have to say the clever last line
20. I love cheesecake and would steal it from a neighbor if I could

too bad ross is my favorite. 

There’s no normal life, Wyatt, it’s just life. Get on with it.

Christian Advice on Picking Up Women. This is the most amazing video I’ve ever seen. I cherish every second of this. 

‘Hey. Those boots you’re wearing - it looks like you’re in a motorcycle gang. Don’t get me wrong, those boots are cute, but tell the truth - are you in a gang?’ 

Ok. Now, more important than what I’m saying is what I’m sub-communicating about myself through what I’m saying. When I come up and I tease a girl about her boots, what I’m doing is I’m setting this frame that I’m the big brother, she’s the little sister I’m there to tease her. I’m there to bring fun into her day. The girl will read that, sub-com, and she’ll realize, ‘ok, it’s time to have fun!’ The other thing I’m doing is I’m communicating to her that I dont take this too seriously; you know, I’m chill, relaxed and I’m there to have fun. If she wants to have fun, then great, if not, that’s ok too.

Alright. Second type of opener it is the Opinion Opener. Opinion Opener’s just that: you just ask the girl an opinion about something. Now, here’s the key with an Opinion Opener: you can easily come off like a guy that is taking a survey. So once again, the thing you wanna do here is you just wanna make it seem relaxed and in the moment. An example of an Opinion Opener is:’Hey. Do girls like guys with tattoos? I notice more and more Christians are getting tattoos - do girls even like that?’

(found on christiannightmares)

• greatest album of all time of the year: my beautiful dark twisted fantasy - kanye west
• worst season: Sunday afternoons October - December
• worst part of making a list: not remembering anything that happened from january-october 
• best movie: social network
• best movie that still holds up years later: best in show
• most random movie we took the kids to watch: nanny mcphee 2 
• movie i regret seeing in theaters, although it wouldn’t make a bad rental: robin hood 
• song i wish i’d written: fuck you - cee lo green
• song i really wish i’d written: baby - justin bieber
• best sounding album: treats - sleigh bells
• oddest real-life occurrence: advancing my career while working from home
• trend most-likely to stick with me forever: lowercase letters
• most shocking passage of time measure: in rainbows was released 3 years ago
• best growing trend: social businesses and progressive charities
• funniest moment: madden doing anything
• funniest moment unrelated to the dog: laughing about something with some people
• time of unadulterated happiness: will-britt proposal 
• best short-lived joy that turned into despair: week 1, holding on alex barron 
• people i wish would disappear forever: sarah palin. chris brown. colin cowherd. that guy who honked at me yesterday when I was parking.  
• person i’d like to clone: jon stewart
• phrase i wanted to use more but never got around to: ‘don’t get it twisted’
• most significant thing that did not happen: baby 
• biggest revelation: portland is beautiful and i wanna live there
• most important revelation: portland is beautiful when it’s not raining. it rains a lot. i don’t wanna live there.  
• best drink: arnold palmer
• best drank: glenfiddich, 15yr 
• worst drink: trader joe’s sweet tea
• favorite tumblr: christian nightmares
• iphone app: instapaper!
• biggest annoyance: laundry
• pet peeve: cash-only businesses
• most beautiful sight: this one
• new addiction: mad men
• best reprise of an old addiction: tumblr
• what i don’t miss: pastoring
• worst person: the old lady who pushed me at in-n-out burger thinking i was rushing to cut in line when i was totally just running back in cuz they messed up my order
• word: good
• best traffic avoidance move: taking yermo road on the way home from vegas
• best pleasant surprise: my wife enjoys cooking. who knew?
• unsurprising development: i still hate chores
• best purchase: roomba
• worst decision: eating at that one italian place at glendale americana. that place sucked.
• best people: the creatives who write/call/tweet back
• best picture: this one
• worst regret: not going to the beach more
• lesson learned: ‘there are no rules’ is still a rule

This is phil hou and me.

(Source: stupidlynamed)

I missed my flight home from Atlanta. I get to be alone and introspective for the next 12hrs. Good thing I’m packed and prepared to avoid boredom: a small library of books, MBP for movies, iPhone for sanity, iPod for music, DS for tetris, and an army of anonymous passerbys to watch. Listening to Donny Hathaway sing Come Ye Disconsolate reminds me how great I have it: health, wealth, a plethora of gadgets and toys and a rad family to call my own. Gratitude is happiness. Happy 5-days-after shanksgiving!

This is the sound I want. My TBA band will sound like this.