Now go out and vote--it'll make you feel big and strong.

What a crock of shit. The title of this post is a quote from the mediator of the last presidential debate tonight, and it got a good laugh...I'll come back to it later.

I usually don't weigh in on preference of candidates or political discussions of social problems. And actually I won't be doing that in this post either. I'm not planning to vote for either Obama or McCain. Regarding the system that demands Americans join either THIS team or THAT team (or be INCONSEQUENTIAL), I'm still a bit idealistically passionate. Haven't yet given in to the logic that says "vote against this person by voting for this one."

But I will say this: McCain blathered like a flustered old man. Neither candidate really answered the questions directly (as they never do), but McCain was a bit...embarrassing to watch. It hit me half-way through one of his ramblings that this was truly sad. Here's a guy not only at the end of his career, but also his life, and he's staring both in the face with tremendous anxiety that his grandest dream of becoming President is slipping away. It is worthy of pity, but not a vote. If you read this and want to respond with something like, "How? How did he blather? What am I talking about?" Well, then you and I obviously did not watch the same debate, and therefore have nothing to talk about. It was self-evident.

Getting back to the American election system, here is the source my real frustration. I saw the two choices for President (the only two that have a chance at all) and was again confronted with the fact that my vote has no bearing on the outcome of this election if I choose some "other" candidate. There are other complaints in that same vein, but it's all rooted in the electoral college. The college is outdated and to be blunt...a travesty for democracy. A single vote does not weigh the same across the country. If we are electing a president of the UNITED States, then geography within that unified nation should not determine the weight of a single vote. One's vote for a democrat in Kansas should weigh the same as a republican in New York. But as it stands, those votes only count until a majority in that geographic location is determined. At that point the popular vote numbers are basically discarded and the electoral college is deemed "representative" of the wishes of the people. Bullshit. I see no benefit whatsoever for such a system, nor have I ever heard a good argument for continuing that system.

If we are not a democracy, stop calling it that. If we are, our systems and policies should reflect it. It's that simple. Hallelujah, and holy shit.

Just gets better

Life in New York can be a bit...busy. Of course it has its perks too. Last week I went with three co-workers to one of the last Yankees games in the original stadium. In short, the game kinda sucked, but it was somewhat surreal getting to see a game at that place. Its history could still be felt, despite the extremely over-priced...everything...which I was surprisingly happy to pay. :) Here's a few pics.

Strikes and Gutters

I think I left that post about Dave Matthews up too long to linger as my last post in a while. Weird to see that up there after not posting in such a long time. I don't have much this time in the way of substance to write about. Just felt like getting out there again.

Work is a rollercoaster...or if you like bowling, a serious of strikes and gutters. I've been stuck in a gutter for the week, and it's amazing the thoughts I've had at this low point. It's crossed my mind to quit more than once. Might sound crazy from the outside, but it's merely reflective of the pressure. I've also considered myself an absolute fraud, not ready to deal with the expectations at this level. But it's nothing new to this field. It's actually an often discussed topic among animators: a typical admission that each of us has had such thoughts. I just didn't really expect to ever feel this way, experiencing it for myself.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not writing from a place of depression. I'm actually encouraged, because feelings of confidence and determination are stronger. I said the first week that I arrived here that once we're "in it" and the pressure is on, we'll all learn who we really are. I'm bending and sometimes breaking in places, but I'm still here and I still love it. Gotta be something there more than just a job.

Life is good.

Happy birthday, Dad.

Dave Revisited

Ten years ago if you came into my room, or got into my car, Dave Matthews would have been playing. Period. I latched onto him the way many others before me had latched onto Kurt Cobain in his prime. I was a dork about it, and I didn't care. Still don't for that matter, hence the public posting about Dave.

Steadily since then I've become more estranged to the guy and his music. Partly because I've just had more to do and a growing palette of musical taste, and partly because of what I call the yuppie invasion. Dave's popularity seemed to skyrocket after Crash hit the radio. The overt sexuality (sensuality?) in that song seemed to resonate with pop music masses, and I guess it was pretty cool and different coming from a male singer song-writer at that time.

I mean, yeah, DMB did win the Grammy for What Would You Say on the previous album Under the Table and Dreaming. So the popularity was definitely there. But I'm talking about what grew into a phenomenon about the turn of the century.

It's obvious that I was annoyed (and still am) by the yuppie invasion, so I'll just come out and say it. Annoying.

Here was a guy who wrote about issues like love and war and religion and drugs and death and cancer and God with tremendous depth. And when he sang about it, he didn't appear to be performing, faking it. And sometimes, it seemed, that when he started to feel the dullness and complacency that comes with performance, he wrote about that too. When he sang about these things, though, you could relax knowing he was being honest. Many times his songs were so personal, they mainly resonated with the audience by the sheer emotion Dave sang with. Not many people really grasp what the song #41 is about, but it's songs like that set Dave apart. He was the real deal for my generation, which is pretty cool I think.

Songs like #41 were an invitation to intimacy, but without the narrative details so boring in personal life. They were metaphor, closer to classical music in the way they captured the experience, the feeling, without limiting it to the point of just another story put to music. This fact was impressively reinforced by how often Dave would change the words of the songs during different performances. The songs were conduits to the world, organic, dynamic...not stale, formulaic, regurgitations of over-produced studio music. And even as the albums kept on coming, new songs, risky sounds, obscure arrangements and unusual band combinations, Dave's honesty still came through clear.

The yuppie invasion actually didn't have much to do with Dave. He was just really fucking good, and happened to find favor with the mob. I think in the minds of most he might now be thought of as a post-prime artist. Dave was trendy for a while. Hence the yuppie invasion, which launched Dave and the band into the mega money and fame, but also ultimately dulled their beauty. If you are a yuppie offended by my use of the word...woops. It's a poor stereotype and generalization, and I'm probably overstating things about Dave a bit too. So be it.

But I remember grimacing at the throngs of "fans" at the last few Dave concerts I attended, a while ago now. I know I'm being a bit snobby--french style--when I say this, but we're talking "fans" like a bourgeois virus. The mob that consumes. They come upon something and love it because it's what is being done at the time. Then they move on. I write with some disgust, obviously, but I'm just being flavorful. It's the way of things. All things. I can just be a brat, not wanting to share what I love with those who so wistfully consume it, then vomit it and ask me to hold their hair back. Meanwhile the music is playing...

So it was with Dave. And until recently I'd subconsciously distanced myself from listening to Dave or playing the guitar (especially his music). Just afraid I'd be grouped with the virus I guess. But that's ridiculous. Stupid. I'm a fan. He's my favorite. What the fuck does the mob have anything to do with that?

So I put in my favorite CD again, for the first time in years. Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds: Live at Luther College, Disc 1. As I listen it's funny to hear Dave play Crash for an audience following the hit Satellite. The Crash album hasn't come out yet, so the cheers for Satellite overshadow the soon-to-be-popular-to-the-max intro to Crash. It's refreshing to hear that song descend on fresh ears. Makes me hear it again, differently. He reinvented the guitar, and the love song. The stalker song.

And then I hear #41. In college I renamed it Nory's Song, after a girlfriend I never quite understood, but when I heard the song I could only think of her. It's still her song, but as I listen to it again now, it's clear it was always my song.

Play after work

Friday nights after work (right now anyway) are usually spent at the pub.

Alexiss, Bobby, Sheldon, Christal


Me, Bobby, Sheldon. I don't know what we were doing.


My thumb smashing Tom's head.

Apartment and Work/Play

My living room. Nemo smiling.



Board in our office at work. Quickly became a great place to doodle for everyone passing by.



Here's my office. Sheldon on the right, Kyle on the left. Weren't exactly "working" yet. We've since made it more homey.



First pay-check as a pro. Woo!

...some extras from Manhattan first

Better one of this side of Times Square. Not stretchy.



Toys 'R Us store. These are for my nephew, Alex.

Manhattan first

Yup. Pictures from a first quick trip to Manhattan. Notice the carefully framed Kung Fu Panda ad. :)



Sheldon and me...a somewhat stretched pic. Not sure why.





Just to the right of center here in Grand Central, you'll find my face in the light.



We spent the afternoon checking out a couple sites--Times Square, Rockefeller Center--then had some pizza at Lombardi's. Yummy.

More in next post...