Last night I ventured out into the cold, rainy, San Diego evening at around eight oclock. The sun had been down for a little while, and my stomach was full of creamy chicken Ramen Noodles. Travis texted me at six and told me that Allison was having a birthday party at the Ruby Room. After locking the front door for the evening, leaving the well being of my possessions to a wildly incompetent kitten, I hopped on my bike and headed West toward Hillcrest. After a quick check in the old billfold, I realized I needed to make a pitstop at the grocery store for some easy green. I decided twenty dollars should be more than enough and continued on my way after declining a receipt from the ATM.
I arrive at my destination, the Ruby Room on University Ave. Good thing I rode, because parking is always a nightmare here on the weekend. I'm happy to find out that there is no cover tonight, even though bands are going to be playing. I'm also a bit surprised at how empty the place is. Every time I had been there before it was a total mob scene of hip cats and multicolored track bikes, or "fixies" as the obnoxious like to call them. My friends become apparent to me immediately as they are the only people who are already wasted. I don't often find myself on this side of the beer goggles, so I get a kick out of how silly everybody is being and order myself a drink.
The night progresses for about an hour until my party starts discussing the appeals of going to sleep soon. A few taxis are called, and the over served depart upon their journeys home, safe and drunk.
At this point only Hannah, Ky, Eddy, Rick, and myself remain. It's about 930 and four of us discover that our fifth counterpart was accidentally left behind from the wagon train of taxis and should really be somewhere that doesn't serve alcohol. Identities shall stay protected, but we close our tabs while sketching up a plan to drop off the load and regroup at Bar Pink in North Park.
I'm outside now, unlocking my bike and trying to ignore the pitter pattering rain on my hoody. An older, obviously homeless gentleman approaches me and asks if I saw "the fight last night". He dotted the metaphorical question mark with a swig from a pocket flash. Not sure if he was referring to a televised sporting event or a street brawl, I just say no because it wouldn't be a lie either way. He gets a little excited and starts recounting about a young white fellow who approached him with distasteful remarks about his skin color. I wasn't really sure what the man was implying or why he felt the urge to tell me about this happening, but I sensed concern in the man's voice, so I tried to comfort him by expressing my opinions on white power shitbags.
I could tell he was pleased with my passion, because he followed up my shpeel up with the phrase "I mean come on, it's two thousand nine!" I almost geeked out and told him how often I use that very same expression, but I settled on a quick smile in agreement. So after all this, I finally hear the story of "the fight from last night." It boils down to something like this, some racist guy approaches my new aquaintance talking shit. A body builder looking white guy happens to be walking past and immediately starts thrashing the racist, eventually knocking him off his feet but still continuing the beating. The body builder eventually stops and leaves the racist lying in a pool of blood with nobody to help him. somebody calls an ambulance and the bloody meat pile is taken away.
Well, I tell Rolando (at some point during the story we exchanged formal greetings)how glad I am that this story had a happy ending, and cap it off with a few more opinions on those types of people. I almost ended the conversation with the drop of a few coins into his cup, but I remembered that I was only going to another bar and I probably had better odds for good conversation right here on this rainy street corner. I tell him I'm not in any hurry, so he tells me another story about how last weekend, some good lookin girl walked out of the thai restaurant a few blocks up and offered to let him suck on her tits. He shat me not, and said that she was going to let him fuck her if he had a condom, but unfortunately he didn't. I saw no reason not to believe him, so I congratulated his courting abilities and we laughed about it for a few minutes. Here and there, the two gentlemen Rolando had been hanging out with would pop up and try to get in on our bro down, but they were both pretty messed up and didn't do very good jobs staying involved. Here's when things start getting really good.
An even older, maybe early sixties aged black man, well dressed by 1978 standards, stopped on our piece of sidewalk for a quick chat. I got the impression that he and Rolando had met before because they gave brief hello's to each other and Rolando told the man that he was looking to shoot some pool, then chuckled and said that he was actually joking. I assumed it was an inside joke, so when the older man turned to me and asked if I would like to shoot some pool I tried to side step the question by apologizing for my lack of skill in that particular game. He posed the question again, saying that he didn't care if I was any good, but that he'd buy me a drink while we were at it. Somewhere inside me a few gears started clicking, and I replied with a straight forward "no thanks man." I noticed Rolando giving me the wary eye, and shooed the older man off by telling him that we only liked girls, and that shit is for exit only. The older man made a few more comments, flattering me with the old "you're a pretty white boy, I'm looking for a pretty white boy to keep me company tonight. come find me if you change your mind." I agree to do so, and the man bids us ado. In his own words of course.
Rolando and I shoot the shit for a little longer. He tells me he has a Bachelors in Biology, that he is a Katrina victim, that his wife had passed due to breast cancer, and that he wanted to work but couldn't find anything that paid well enough to get by. I didn't challenge anything he told me. I don't really care if they were true or not, it doesn't matter to me. I could tell he needed somebody to talk to for a few minutes who wasn't just another fucked up hobo or a sneaky religious type with a carrot on a stick. He told me he had a dry place to sleep though, and that he hoped to get back on his feet one day even if he never got anything from his home insurance policy in New Orleans. I was thinking about kicking it with him for longer, but i realized that I had already ignored three phone calls from my friends who were now at Bar Pink and wondering if I was okay. I told Rolando I was going to get out of the rain, and that I hoped he stayed dry and safe. He actually thanked me for talking to him like a real person and told me that he hoped to cross paths again sometime. I agreed, thinking about how I used to like running into guys like Pete and Grady back in Richmond.
I didn't really mean this to turn into a lesson on being nice to people, but I guess it did that for itself. I hope you enjoyed reading it!
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Life Goals
Every motherfucker should have some goals for his or her life. I've set some short to mid range goals in my 22 years of experience, but I don't feel like I've made any good, structured, long term, goals. I've made some open ended promises to myself like "when I'm older and settled down I want to be happy and not just living because I haven't died yet." But seriously, that isn't much of a commitment. It's more of a dream that may or may not happen if I don't sit my ass down and make some REAL goals to ensure that I actually DO keep myself happy later on down the road. If you don't know this about me, I'm fairly quick to become interested in something, and also fairly quick to lose interest in it. I love new experiences but for some reason I'm not so great at building upon past ones. That isn't to say I don't learn things, but I have a deep fear of failure that I haven't really figured out how to address that has kept me from devoting all me free time to any one certain activity. I guess I like to consider myself more of a "jack of all trades" but I'm kind of just hoping one day I'll pick up a hobby and just be a pro at it right off the bat. I know that is a ridiculous statement but unfortunately it is kind of true.
ANYWAYS
I'm going to start setting some goals for my ass to accomplish in the near, mid, and long term and I'd like to post them for all to see, because I need people to push me and remind me and down right annoy me to ensure that I don't drop the ball on myself. So be a friend and talk to me about these some time if you are interested!!
1) Get out of the military. This is only a matter of time and doesn't really require TOO much effort on my part so it isn't really a goal, but more of a timed event. Either way I'll be happy to accomplish it because it WILL end a goal I set in my earlier years to serve my country.
2) Publish something. There it is. I don't care if it is a book, a play, music, poetry, or even artwork(though that is least likely to happen) This is DEFINITELY one of my big goals that I really have to keep myself to. I am SO jealous of everybody who gets their ideas and works copied and distributed for other people to see that I just have to know what it feels like. I'm terrified of dying and being forgotten EVEN THOUGH IT IS THE INEVITABLE TRUTH. That is beside the point. I will make this happen.
3) Continue traveling. This one is especially important now that I have a busy work/school schedule. I have to keep looking for new places to go. Hold me to this if you have trip ideas!
4) Own a home/property. Even if it is just an empty lot somewhere, I love the idea of owning some real estate. I better have a damn good excuse if I turn 30 and am still paying rent somewhere.
5) Be a better friend. Ok I guess this is one of those Oxygen Channel "we can always be better people" goals that is hard to measure, but I really do think so highly of all my buddies and I want to stay committed to being a good friend regardless of circumstances.
Ok that's going to be it for right now. I know it's a short list but I promise it will grow after I've put some more thought into the matter.
Adios for now!
ANYWAYS
I'm going to start setting some goals for my ass to accomplish in the near, mid, and long term and I'd like to post them for all to see, because I need people to push me and remind me and down right annoy me to ensure that I don't drop the ball on myself. So be a friend and talk to me about these some time if you are interested!!
1) Get out of the military. This is only a matter of time and doesn't really require TOO much effort on my part so it isn't really a goal, but more of a timed event. Either way I'll be happy to accomplish it because it WILL end a goal I set in my earlier years to serve my country.
2) Publish something. There it is. I don't care if it is a book, a play, music, poetry, or even artwork(though that is least likely to happen) This is DEFINITELY one of my big goals that I really have to keep myself to. I am SO jealous of everybody who gets their ideas and works copied and distributed for other people to see that I just have to know what it feels like. I'm terrified of dying and being forgotten EVEN THOUGH IT IS THE INEVITABLE TRUTH. That is beside the point. I will make this happen.
3) Continue traveling. This one is especially important now that I have a busy work/school schedule. I have to keep looking for new places to go. Hold me to this if you have trip ideas!
4) Own a home/property. Even if it is just an empty lot somewhere, I love the idea of owning some real estate. I better have a damn good excuse if I turn 30 and am still paying rent somewhere.
5) Be a better friend. Ok I guess this is one of those Oxygen Channel "we can always be better people" goals that is hard to measure, but I really do think so highly of all my buddies and I want to stay committed to being a good friend regardless of circumstances.
Ok that's going to be it for right now. I know it's a short list but I promise it will grow after I've put some more thought into the matter.
Adios for now!
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Overwhelmed
Sometimes life gets really damn overwhelming. I've heard all the adages, "Life is Pain", "We wouldn't enjoy the sun if it wasn't for the rain" et cetera, et ecetera. I've never listened to that bullshit though. In my opinion, sayings are for lazy bastards and conformists. Just because smartasses like "Unknown" and "Anonymous" were able to sum up their lives in simple metaphors, similes, and otherwise incomplete sentences doesn't mean I can. Hell, it doesn't even make me feel better to know that they feel that terrible about their own lives. I just write them off obnoxious pedestrians and people who are in front of me in line places. If I could condense the reasons I don't kill myself at this very moment into any rational expression I would probably already have a gun in my mouth and a foot off the ledge. It's about emotions and feelings that no one can explain. I don't know where I'm driving with this blog, so just hop in and pay attention.
Ok, I was saying that I feel overwhelmed. It's true. I work 40+ hour weeks doing manual labor in a fast paced environment while still learning how to even do my job in the first place. On top of that, I have two classes, each three hours long, a week and I am required to keep up with. I know people have worked longer and harder hours than I do and I respect that a lot. I'm trying not to complain too much, but it really fucking sucks coming home two nights a week from 13 hours of work (not including drive time) and knowing that you have to do the same thing again tomorrow. It'll all pay off in the end. That is one true proverb I do agree with. I just don't like not having any time to myself to do things I enjoy doing. I want to be able to go out at night and check out new things or enjoy new restaurants and bars. I guess this all goes back to the "paying off in the end" thing.
I really need to keep myself writing and playing music and drawing. Why does it seem so hard to motivate yourself to do awesome stuff like that? Is it because you're afraid you won't like the product after spending time and energy on it? Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is for me. I don't think I have ever had the balls to really pick something and dedicate myself to learning how to be extraordinarily good at it. I'd rather be mediocre at a lot of things and consider myself versatile. Actually, I'd REALLY like to pick something up and be a prodigy at it. One of those assholes who does a kickflip the first time he sees a skateboard or builds a sweet bicycle from spare parts found in the alley behind work.
I've yet to find my "God Given Gift". I like to think it's relating to people. I don't know if I'm the only person who feels this way or if I'm just a self righteous jerk, but I have always thought that I could talk to anybody in any room and make them feel comfortable. I guess that isn't really a talent though. Anybody can do it if they have a little curiosity and patience. Maybe being hard to offend is a gift after all though. I see plenty of people get bent out of shape about dumb comments or rude motions and their entire days are ruined, or worse.
I used to procrastinate like it was my job in school. I've tried to get better about it, and I definitely have, but it'd be nice to say that I never put off anything that needed to get done. That would probably make me inhuman though. I still don't really know where this blog is going. Haha. I hope it is interesting to you. To you and you alone! Fuck the person who read this before you. Seriously, that guy is kind of an ass, and I once read his shitty poetry. We should grab drinks soon, just you and I. Maybe the next person after you to read this. I mean, I'm not going to call him, but if you want to I wouldn't really care. I wonder who will be next to read this? It could be anyone in the world. What if it was the Queen of England herself and we ended up drinking beer with her. That'd be debateably cooler than drinking with Obama, even though I'd still be stoked on that.
How did that last paragraph make you feel? I hope it made you feel a little better, like we connected a bit. Let me know..
Hopefully it won't be this long until I post again.
Love,
Ashton
Ok, I was saying that I feel overwhelmed. It's true. I work 40+ hour weeks doing manual labor in a fast paced environment while still learning how to even do my job in the first place. On top of that, I have two classes, each three hours long, a week and I am required to keep up with. I know people have worked longer and harder hours than I do and I respect that a lot. I'm trying not to complain too much, but it really fucking sucks coming home two nights a week from 13 hours of work (not including drive time) and knowing that you have to do the same thing again tomorrow. It'll all pay off in the end. That is one true proverb I do agree with. I just don't like not having any time to myself to do things I enjoy doing. I want to be able to go out at night and check out new things or enjoy new restaurants and bars. I guess this all goes back to the "paying off in the end" thing.
I really need to keep myself writing and playing music and drawing. Why does it seem so hard to motivate yourself to do awesome stuff like that? Is it because you're afraid you won't like the product after spending time and energy on it? Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is for me. I don't think I have ever had the balls to really pick something and dedicate myself to learning how to be extraordinarily good at it. I'd rather be mediocre at a lot of things and consider myself versatile. Actually, I'd REALLY like to pick something up and be a prodigy at it. One of those assholes who does a kickflip the first time he sees a skateboard or builds a sweet bicycle from spare parts found in the alley behind work.
I've yet to find my "God Given Gift". I like to think it's relating to people. I don't know if I'm the only person who feels this way or if I'm just a self righteous jerk, but I have always thought that I could talk to anybody in any room and make them feel comfortable. I guess that isn't really a talent though. Anybody can do it if they have a little curiosity and patience. Maybe being hard to offend is a gift after all though. I see plenty of people get bent out of shape about dumb comments or rude motions and their entire days are ruined, or worse.
I used to procrastinate like it was my job in school. I've tried to get better about it, and I definitely have, but it'd be nice to say that I never put off anything that needed to get done. That would probably make me inhuman though. I still don't really know where this blog is going. Haha. I hope it is interesting to you. To you and you alone! Fuck the person who read this before you. Seriously, that guy is kind of an ass, and I once read his shitty poetry. We should grab drinks soon, just you and I. Maybe the next person after you to read this. I mean, I'm not going to call him, but if you want to I wouldn't really care. I wonder who will be next to read this? It could be anyone in the world. What if it was the Queen of England herself and we ended up drinking beer with her. That'd be debateably cooler than drinking with Obama, even though I'd still be stoked on that.
How did that last paragraph make you feel? I hope it made you feel a little better, like we connected a bit. Let me know..
Hopefully it won't be this long until I post again.
Love,
Ashton
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Life: Post Show
Ok. Now I see what I've gotten into. I've spent the last year and a half dipping my toes into the likes of Strike Anywhere, Jets To Brazil, Dead Serious, Saves The Day, and New Found Glory over my sisters stereo, but now I've taken the plunge. That show flipped me in every way shape and form. I saw kids not giving a fuck and loving every fleeting second of it. I saw the guy who booked the show and I'd put him at 20 years old, tops. This whole god damn thing is run, attended, and down right owned by "kids". I wanted to be one of them.
I had never before been so at home, even though I had also never before seen so out of my comfort zone. The freedom of speech and personality and art. I could not believe that it was okay to bounce, or to put it realistically "slam", around with other kids who you didn't even know, screaming at the top of your lungs. I was free. Free from the collared shirts my mom made me wear to school to show the teachers that I wasn't a thug. Free from the judgments of all the other 13 year old's that seemed so important to survival. Free from the questions in my head about what the hell was going on in my body or the world around me. I knew right then and there that this was the place and the crowd for me. I wanted to hold on as tight as I could and let the ride take me wherever it happened to go.
I had never before been so at home, even though I had also never before seen so out of my comfort zone. The freedom of speech and personality and art. I could not believe that it was okay to bounce, or to put it realistically "slam", around with other kids who you didn't even know, screaming at the top of your lungs. I was free. Free from the collared shirts my mom made me wear to school to show the teachers that I wasn't a thug. Free from the judgments of all the other 13 year old's that seemed so important to survival. Free from the questions in my head about what the hell was going on in my body or the world around me. I knew right then and there that this was the place and the crowd for me. I wanted to hold on as tight as I could and let the ride take me wherever it happened to go.
Friday, August 14, 2009
"Step back from yourself." Okay. There is a bowl full of chocolate in front of me and an ipod full of my favorite bands next to that. Why can't I come up with an idea for a good story? No. Wrong question. I can come up with good story ideas, I just can't write them down with interesting beef. I swear people would pay money to see my thoughts projected against a white screen. Or maybe I just wish they would... Anyways, as far as I'm concerned my problem is how to put some of these ideas into words. Words that will make people want to read more. Not just two dollar words I learned from dictionary dot com's daily emails though. Real words. Words like Filth, Crinkle, and Poised. Words that convey ideas. I want my readers to see what I'm writing, not just wonder whether I talk like this in real life or if I get off on pretending that I studied English Literature at some lush university in rural New Jersey. Fuck it. Ok, now that I have my R rating, or at least PG by today's standards, I guess I can start in from the beginning again. Did I mention that I've been drinking? Actually I have not, but let's pretend I am for sake of belligerence because I respect a free mind's creativity. From the beginning!
This story begins in 2001. August to be sure. Late in the month, but the exact date is irrelevant. On this particular night I will witness, for the first time in my life, an inexplicable, uncontrollable, and absolutely nonsensical marriage between real music and real energy in a real crowd of real individuals. Now I must ask you to please not take my overuse of the word "real" for granted here. When I say "Real Music" I mean music that has been written for a purpose. To send a message. To pull like minded people together. And when I say "Real Energy" I mean energy that is aroused from deep within one's heart and mind, not demanded by a squad of cheer leaders or a light up "Applause!" sign. This is energy being expelled without rules, save the laws of physics. As for the "real crowd" of "real individuals", well, if you don't understand that one then you should just take a look around the room the next time you attend a punk show.
This story begins in 2001. August to be sure. Late in the month, but the exact date is irrelevant. On this particular night I will witness, for the first time in my life, an inexplicable, uncontrollable, and absolutely nonsensical marriage between real music and real energy in a real crowd of real individuals. Now I must ask you to please not take my overuse of the word "real" for granted here. When I say "Real Music" I mean music that has been written for a purpose. To send a message. To pull like minded people together. And when I say "Real Energy" I mean energy that is aroused from deep within one's heart and mind, not demanded by a squad of cheer leaders or a light up "Applause!" sign. This is energy being expelled without rules, save the laws of physics. As for the "real crowd" of "real individuals", well, if you don't understand that one then you should just take a look around the room the next time you attend a punk show.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Being "the bigger man"
High school is a very dramatic time period for most people. I am definitely in that category. I remember many occasions where I would be in some sort of altercation with somebody and, doing as most people do, would ask my friends for advice. It didn't matter how big or small the problem was, I always "knew" that I was right and my opposition was wrong. The last thing I ever wanted to hear was "Be the bigger man." It KILLED me when the person I had turned to gave me such ego blowing advice. I'm a bit older and much wiser these days, and now I understand what it means to suck it up and be the "bigger man". I wish I could go back in time (or at least remember everybody who gave me those words of advice) and thank them for being mature enough and a friend enough to realize that whatever I was so pissed off about really was not that important and the last thing I needed anybody to do was justify my vengeance.
So anyways, here's to true friends who tell you what you might not want to hear because at the end of the day, it's the right thing.
So anyways, here's to true friends who tell you what you might not want to hear because at the end of the day, it's the right thing.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Preliminary Taste Tests...
• Nerve Agents:
Initial flavor- kind of tart, but quickly followed by reasonable heat. Maintains tangy flavor in mouth though. Texture- Thin paste.
• Municipal Waste:
Initial flavor- Artichoke heavy. A little sweet, but that’s more of an afterthought. Milder but still warm. Texture- Clumps of artichokes in sauce.
• Battle Master:
Mild, but a little burn on the lips. Good taste that reminded me of Tapatio. Texture- very runny.
• BloodQuest:
Oh man. Initial taste is almost like spaghetti sauce, but it quickly turns up the temperature. Maybe too hot for typical use. Definitely spike some salsa with this for a pleasant surprise. Or use in cheesy dish. Flavor is great though.
Initial flavor- kind of tart, but quickly followed by reasonable heat. Maintains tangy flavor in mouth though. Texture- Thin paste.
• Municipal Waste:
Initial flavor- Artichoke heavy. A little sweet, but that’s more of an afterthought. Milder but still warm. Texture- Clumps of artichokes in sauce.
• Battle Master:
Mild, but a little burn on the lips. Good taste that reminded me of Tapatio. Texture- very runny.
• BloodQuest:
Oh man. Initial taste is almost like spaghetti sauce, but it quickly turns up the temperature. Maybe too hot for typical use. Definitely spike some salsa with this for a pleasant surprise. Or use in cheesy dish. Flavor is great though.
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