Yesterday, I celebrated my favorite non-denominational holiday, and it was nothing short of exquisite. Although I didn’t share my dinner with anyone special (or anyone for that matter), I reveled in the fact that all across our nation, people were putting forth positive energy in an appreciative and thankful manner.

However, something quite disturbing happens when the clock strikes midnight. The message of being content completely turns on its head, and the insatiable need to consume becomes the code of the new day.  How this tradition of “Black Friday” became a staple is somewhat of a mystery, but when any guilt can be removed from the buying and selling of goods, it seems Americans react in a most obedient manner.

I am not socialist or communist, but the idea of consumerism, while seemingly benign in theory, seems quite dangerous (and wasteful) in practice. Although the video above is an extreme example, the need for “things” seems for most to supplant the need to grow internally, whether from an intellectual, physical or spiritual standpoint. Amassing a mountain of merchandise will never adequately substitute for being, and it is in this that the adage “money can’t buy happiness” firmly resides.

Although I am not being paid an exorbitant amount of money per annum, I feel that my compensation is commensurate with what I am asked to deliver for Corp, Inc.  But, how is this number derived? It would seem the amount is relative, based on what others make for similar work. However, when looking at highly-paid individuals, whether they are successful entrepreneurs, entertainers, or even ultra-successful professionals, the relativity proverbially flies out the window. Though this exponential increase (re: chasm) between what most earn and the select few is questionable, I am not here to judge, nor am I trying to paint some type of political message (see above). Rather, what I want to express is that the odds of becoming one of these select few is difficult, so it would seem in one’s best interest (statistically speaking) to temper the need to consume with the need to grow. And growth ironically, requires almost no capital; could this be then seen as consumption’s polar opposite? Or am I comparing apples to oranges? Another thought for another time. The point is, do not fall prey to the blind need to consume. Gifts are fleeting, while growth lasts forever.

Musing on the Sounds

It’s no secret that I reignited my love for music approximately twenty-two months ago when I unearthed my guitar from the depths of my storage space. Since then, I have been quite diligent and vigilant in maintaining my practice schedule, and I can say with a good deal of confidence that I am finally at a place where I can simply pick up the instrument and “play.” However, this newfound skill came with a price; in retrospect, it’s laughable, but at the moment of inception, it was quite frightening indeed. So, rather than hem and haw, I’ll cut right to the chase.

Last week, I went to visit my primary physician with the complaint of “hearing voices.” This is, without a doubt, an extremely serious matter as one can attest to, and it had me quite worried. I couldn’t hear what these voices were saying, and I wasn’t entirely convinced they were even voices in the first place (although it was most certainly a pitched sound, and it had the timbre of what I thought was a human voice). After describing in detail what I was experiencing, my physician did due diligence and asked about my life and if there were any changes from the norm since I had last seen him. The only thing I could think of was my voracious appetite for music, and at this, he began to chuckle. An innocent question, dripping with such sarcasm that I at once felt naive and ignorant, he asked “have you ever tried to play what these voices are trying to say?” I suddenly realized what he was implying, and that is, I am hearing musical phrases unique to my own experience.

I now find myself charting a new musical course as I begin to stitch these melodies together and create original compositions. It begins one way, and then mutates into something a bit more concrete – now, it’s at the point where I can sing things without having to force myself to remember them, as they make “sense.” And it’s precisely at this point where I now feel I possess a skill. What keeps me honest is not being in a rush, not being in a race, and not being concerned with anything other than its existence. And whether this means sharing it with others, or creating strictly for an audience of one, the fact that these melodies appear out of the ether is thrilling enough.

I am now on my way to possessing fluency in a language that can best be described as Western tonal music.

The game of golf is a game that asks you to do only one thing, and that is to hit a dimpled ball from point A (tee) to point B (hole). Dotting the landscape between the two points are obstacles, both natural and manmade, which create the unique challenge that a player finds at each hole. Success is derived by employing the proper mechanics (i.e. a sure swing) and a strong strategic acumen; becoming a master results from needing the fewest strokes possible to send the ball to the hole on eighteen separate occasions. It would seem from a cursory glance that with good weather being a prerequisite and small electric cars provided so one can conserve energy by not walking to each ball location, positive results should be obtained with minimal issues. However, like life, “minimal issues” never seem to be the case. And this is precisely due to the fact that weighty issues arise when our expectations crash head-on with the actuality of the situation (please notice that I did not use the word “reality,” as one’s reality is uniquely their own). In the case of golf and life, the situation never exists in a vacuum – an infinite number of variables compound the difficulty of any situation, and that’s what makes the situation exhilarating, frightening, confounding, etc.

However, unlike life, golf has a truncated version of itself. For those that don’t have the resources, the patience, or the discipline to pick up the game in its original form, there’s miniature golf. Upon first glance, one might think miniature golf is a simpler game, but everything (save for the frustration and the skill required) is miniaturized, and therefore rendered relative. For those who aren’t familiar with highly-competitive miniature golf, during the 1990s, Défi Mini-Putt was a weekly Canadian television program featuring the very best that miniature golf had to offer. Although I’m not exactly sure how or why miniature golf became a commodity worthy of airing, after watching the video above, there is no denying the level of talent that was on display.

Although I began this post by comparing golf with life, it’s somewhat of a fruitless endeavor, simply for the fact that life is not a game. In the hip-hop vernacular, the phrase “hate the game, not the player” is often cited to justify Machiavellian actions with respect to getting ahead in the pursuit of the almighty dollar. Some take this to heart, but in my humble opinion, this should be considered solely metaphorical in nature. In sport, the idea of “game” is king, so naturally the “player” has the right to do what needs to be done in order to win, but the idea of sportsmanship does factor in, and the idea of winning fairly still matters (for proof, please see Major League Baseball: The Steroid Years). The equivalent to sportsmanship in life is possessing morals and scruples, but where the two deviate is in the general underpinning of life not being something to win or lose – life is to be lived by giving it all you have.

Hanny Hakim is a young man in Texas with an unusual penchant for documenting elevators. Mr. Hakim’s YouTube channel is populated with hundreds of videos taken from his own point-of-view, whereupon he enters an elevator and spends a few moments explaining the elevator, its manufacturer, its history, and any other pertinent information he thinks the viewer would find worthwhile. Although I find his fact-gathering skills formidable and the subject matter somewhat interesting, I am absolutely enamored with his passion for collecting data. But, the obvious question remains – why elevators?

Although Mr. Hakim does not go into any depth as to why he has chosen elevators as his muse, I think it a very apt metaphor for life, and I believe the title of this post should shed a little light into why I feel this way. Elevators can only go one of two ways, up or down, and if they’re not moving it’s either because they’re getting ready to move, or because they’re broken. This can also be illustrated scientifically, as in very rudimentary physics where energy is described as being “potential” or “kinetic.” However one chooses to qualify the aforementioned, the point is it should therefore not seem too outlandish to anyone why Mr. Hakim finds the elevator to be interesting.

As for me, my “elevator” has been music. It’s the one thing in my life that has remained a constant for the past year and ten months, and it (conversely speaking with regard to the subject matter) keeps me grounded.  For instance, in my last post to this web log, I was not in a very good place. Before my personal musical renaissance, I would have simply wrote the day off as a bad one. Now? As things were crumbling around me, I thought of music. I thought of the way it moves, the way it sounds, the feeling I have in my extremities (not “that” extremity!) as it pulsates through my person. We should all try and find this for ourselves. This “thing” that makes us present. Meditation, for instance, is rooted in the “now,” and that’s precisely we people feel healed by it. Because it is in the moment that one fully understands what it means to be alive. I don’t want this to spiral into a string of clichés, so I will end this line of thought. But for anyone reading this, I know you understand because we have all experienced this at one time or another – most of us have no doubt experienced this in the moments after awakening from a good night’s sleep. These perfect moments.

For Mr. Hakim, it seems elevators and the documentation of said subject matter are his “perfect moments.” As we age, these things can change for us. We can find perfection in other pursuits, people, objects, etc. What it exactly that is for any of you is not for me to say, but for you to find. If I may, the only thing I would personally ask anyone would be to remain conscious on their quest, to concentrate on what exactly removes you from remembering that you are indeed concentrating. My work can be this way at times, but my music is forever a constant.

Find your elevator and be prepared to go up, down, and nowhere.

The Pot Calling the Kettle Boiling

I sit here tonight in front of my computer trying to remain calm. Yes, placidity is one of the hallmarks of lucidity, and this is the mantra I have been quietly repeating to myself for the past few hours or so. Although I enacted a self-imposed moratorium on updating my web log regarding anything work-related, it wasn’t for the lack of compelling material. I normally look to this web log as an outlet, an extension of who I am outside of work, as a near brush with an unhappy superior caused me to reevaluate  the very reason why I update this web log in the first place. But tonight is the first time in recent memory that I have failed to leave “work” at work.

Without getting into specifics, today was the kind of day where everything seemed impossible. And, to be somewhat specific while still honoring the previous sentence, it wasn’t because I felt my performance was subpar. No, I was giving it all I had, no question. Rather, it was (and I’m sure all of us have experienced this feeling at one time or another) the moment where it all feels for naught. That, as we travel along our path, the path narrows to the point where it disappears into the foliage – the flora simply gobbles up the light, and we are left surrounded by unchecked growth, and not the kind of growth celebrated by a bull market. This is how today felt, and although feeling is one-hundred percent subjective, the feeling pervaded every course of action undertaken.

It has been said that writing is a form of catharsis, and that one of the soundest ways in dealing with problems, issues and the like is to sit down and give voice to one’s inner consciousness. While some drown their situations in drink, or confide in close friends and family, I have found that just by writing these last few hundred words has brought a small amount of solace to my otherwise dismal night. I would imagine a sound night’s sleep followed by a sixty-minute exercise routine in the morning will bring comfort and closure, but as of right now, I don’t see that as a possibility. I see only darkness, and it’s not because I have been listening to The Cure and The Smiths.

It’s because I don’t see how I will be anything more than I already am.

There are general questions that arise, regardless of field, which if unpacked and answered, would assist everyone in making a difference in their own and possibly other’s lives. Some would call this “meta,” but I think it’s more than that. Asking a meta-based question still roots the question within the limits set forth by the grouped material; maybe I’m just running on a circuitous path, but I’m going to take a stand and put forth the idea that “general” exists beyond “meta.” Maybe I’m wrong. Or maybe I’m trying to sound intelligent and highfalutin, when all I really have to say is “you should the watch the video above because it’s quite interesting.”

There. I guess that wasn’t so hard.

DISCLAIMER: In no way am I affiliated with Riverhead Books, Penguin Group, any of the relevant subsidiaries, etc. I’m always looking to pass on information that I believe one might find useful, regardless of corporate entanglements. Corp, Inc. does in fact have a publishing division, but Penguin Group and their subsidiaries have in no way asked me to go against any of my own corporate bylines or guidelines. Thanks.

McMahon = The McMan

Although the New York Jets lost a few hours ago in less-than-dramatic fashion by the score of 10-9, the night was not a wasted one. Watching Mr. Rex Ryan patrol the sidelines was eerily reminiscent of his father Buddy, which in turn led to a minor epiphany. This football season marks the twenty-fifth anniversary of the 1985 Chicago Bears and Buddy Ryan’s vaunted 46 Defense, responsible for decimating the competition in route to victory  in Superbowl XX. For fellow American Football fans, I will not waste time reiterating what has been written and rewritten. Suffice it to say for the non-fan, the Bears were the culmination of many things, one of which was being one of the first athletic clubs to fully embrace the media. Today, “ego” and “athlete” are quite synonymous, but the ’85 Bears were the first team of the MTV generation. What’s more, to be considered as such, there needed to be an individual that would embody this ethos and connect beyond the stadium (for more on the transition of athletics as entertainment, please refer to my previous post).

James Robert “Jim” McMahon Jr. was born in 1959, which put him at twenty-six years young in 1985. He was at this point in his third consecutive year as the starter for the Chicago Bears, and this was the year when it all came together. His ability, while formidable in its own right, was overshadowed by his (and at this point it sounds so hackneyed to describe an athlete in this manner) abrasive personality and self-aggrandizement. Although he wore his sunglasses for medical reasons, it seemed as if he was a celebrity whose every move was calculated. Needless to say, the public stood enraptured.

Perhaps his most famous trademark, even beyond the fact that he was one of the first American Football players to wear a blackened visor (earning him the nicknames “Darth Vader” and my favorite, “Black Sunshine”) was his affinity for headbands. He would write all sorts of things on these headbands, knowing that when he removed his helmet on the sideline, the cameras would move in to capture exactly what he had written that week (it was forever changing). Being an egotist, a ruffian, but most importantly a winner, these words and/or phrases were messages that reached beyond face value, once again giving the media something to discuss. With the rise of the twenty-four hour news cycle still a few years away, Mr. McMahon was truly ahead of his time by providing ample material in which to explore his persona ad nauseam.

Practicing the guitar with vocal accompaniment  has always been somewhat of a sweaty endeavor, and because of my clean-shaven head, one that also has the propensity to cause ocular discomfort. However, with these recent thoughts of McMahon dancing in my head, I realized that I too need to start wearing a headband! Tonight was indeed the first night that I employed said headband, and I can say beyond the shadow of a doubt that it performed wonderfully under pressure.

Now back to Mr. McMahon. McMahon recently announced that he was going back to school to finish his coursework, get his degree, and enter the BYU Hall of Fame. Whether he receives an invite for the Professional Football Hall of Fame remains to be seen, but there is no debate when discussing his impact on the game and its relationship with the media and entertainment. There’s a little Jim McMahon in all of us, and whether or not you agree, if you wrote your response to this statement on a headband and wore it to work tomorrow, people would no doubt notice.

No Man is an Island

Yesterday, at approximately 2:41 AM EST, Darelle Revis ended his contractual holdout with the New York Jets. For those of you not familiar with the negotiations, Mr. Revis was refusing to fulfill the remaining two years under his current contract because of the want for greater financial compensation. This is typical of American Football players who sign rookie contracts that are obviously worth much less than a superstar’s contract, and then go on to perform higher than expected over the course of at least two seasons. Mr. Revis was advised by his handlers that he was due more money, and anyone armed with this type of information would most certainly aim to create more personal wealth.

This type of contractual holdout during the preseason of American professional athletics (I cannot speak for other countries, but I would venture to say when money is involved, much of the same behavior is most likely repeated) is nothing new; in fact, many athletes use the upcoming season as a negotiating tactic to see if the team is truly intersested in meeting their respective demands. However, this particular negotiation was different because it was televised.

For those of you not watching the program “Hard Knocks,” I am not saying that Hard Knocks was primarily focused on these negotiations, but it was a strong story point of the series. Will he sign? Will he refuse to play? These questions flew around the heads of players, coaches, and the owner alike. However, with a new stadium recently completed and the need to fill new, expensive seats coupled with the idea that programs need narrative tension to keep viewers tuned in, led me to believe the entire negotiation was a ruse immediately from the beginning. There was no doubt in my mind that Mr. Revis was going to sign a contract; in fact, the terms might have been agreed upon before the television show even aired. The media however, is also always in need of a story, so a story was created to supply the story. And with the media now engaged, the public has what it appears to perceive as greater insight, resulting in being more invested (personally and hopefully financially) and more inclined to fill seats, buy merchandise, and prove the model.

In closing, I am not passing judgement on the matter, nor am I a cynic. I am merely making an observation that would seem to be in a more colloquial term, “pulling back the curtain.” What am I exposing? A conspiracy? In a word, no. What I am exposing is the entertainment business. For some reason, because there is a physicality to professional athletics, or maybe because athletes are not actors, the public assumes professional athletics to be “pure.” This however, is simply naivete. I will leave you with a quote from a one David Marvin Blake, better known under the alias DJ Quik. One of his compositions entitled “Dollaz + Sense” repeats the refrain “if it don’t make dollars, it don’t make sense (cents).” This, I believe, fully encapsulates the motives behind most decisions made in our society. I am obviously treading on very dangerous ground, so I will leave you with a question, rather than a statement: if you were the owner of a professional athletic team,  what would you do to drum up interest, which in turn, drums up prices?

Some Roses Have No Thorns

I have written at length about movies I have seen and books I have read, but never have I spent time writing about the music that I like to think of as the ultimate aphrodisiac, if the end result of said stimuli was not sexual desire, but the power of giving it all one has. I recently updated this web log with a cursory overview of what influences me as a musician, but what I listen to from the standpoint of educating versus entertaining myself differs considerably. Now, it is not my intention for anyone to presuppose that my musical taste begins and ends with the aforementioned; however, I can say beyond the shadow of a doubt that music falling into the GIAYH subset is almost instantly appreciated.

Popular music is pattern recognition, and this is not a new concept. The patterns that I personally find entertaining are the kind that make me feel emotionally charged. For the personal record that I constantly keep so as not to ever be misunderstood, I am not one to believe that these feelings are directly caused by the music; rather, these aural patterns most likely cause a memory in my subconscious to trigger in a favorable manner (“conditioning”). Whatever the case may be, (and as I write this, I’m sure Oliver Sacks has an opinion regarding this), what follows are two examples of  the kind of music that gives it all it has.

#1 “BREAK THE ICE” performed by: John Farnham

This song was created for the opening sequence of the movie “Rad,” a riveting bicycle motocross (BMX) tale made at the tail end of the 20th century. As you can plainly see, the song was appropriated by Daniel Perceval, creator of xtremeiceskating.com  to showcase some of his rather audacious movements (I find Mr. Perceval extremely inspiring in his own right – it might be worth investigating him in the future for a web log post of his own).

#2 “HEART’S ON FIRE” performed by: John Cafferty

This song was commissioned for the fourth installment of the venerable Rocky franchise. The video above is a reenactment of the montage scene from which this song was directly taken. Obviously, I am not alone in my sentiments. One thing to note with regard to this song: there are two different versions of the title listed on various discographies and other lists that include this song. The difference lies in the word “heart” – some pluralize, while other render it as a contraction. After some internal debate, I felt that “heart’s” is what the composer intended, as pluralizing the word really doesn’t make sense when taking into account the song’s central idea of bringing oneself to the brink of perfection.

I am aware that both of these examples are from films, both of which were created in the 1980s. It’s no secret that films from this period employed similar devices to showcase the protagonist overcoming great obstacles. And that’s not to say that this device hasn’t been used in other instances, it’s just that because these two are both so explicit, it makes my job of explaining the aesthetics that much easier. Although music does not have to be supplemented with images, somehow the marriage of the two enhances the other in a most pleasing symbiotic relationship.

I have toyed with the notion of trying to write a song employing said aesthetics, but it’s not easy. For now, I will rejoice in the fact that there are many pieces of music that make me want to give it all I have, and luckily for me, there is no overwhelming need to add to the canon.

Rex in Effex

Tomorrow night, Home Box Office television will be launching this season’s premiere episode of “Hard Knocks: Training Camp with the New York Jets.” As many of you know, one of the few leisurely pursuits I engage in is following the American Football season. From the kickoff of the Hall of Fame game, up until the clock strikes 00:00 at the Super Bowl, I follow every story line, every game, and every result with (almost – see ahead) equal fervor. However, with that being said, every fan of Football usually has a team (or at the very least, a player) he/she is partial to, and for me, that team is the New York Jets.

Last year, Marty made a small New York Jets fan video with my namesake plastered from beginning to end. Although it was highly entertaining seeing some of the players in a more intimate, relaxed setting, “Hard Knocks” promises to deliver the real drama behind training camp. We as fans constantly hear from the players that training camp is an extremely difficult yet necessary component of the season, and that without it, there would be no synchronicity with regard to the playbook or the personalities that comprise a team. Now with this element exposed, my full fandom will now be satiated, as I find the analysis that inundates the sports media spectrum just as interesting as the actual games themselves.

Many teams have turned down the overtures made by Home Box Office Pictures to have cameras at their respective training camps, on the grounds that it would be intrusive as well as distracting to the players and coaching staff. The Jets, who have always seemed to be a secondary team in the face of such storied franchises like the Packers, Cowboys, Giants, etc., welcomed this opportunity to not only create positive brand recognition, but also to establish the tone they will no doubt try to embody this season. What is that tone, you ask? It is the tone of winning.

I have been contemplating whether or not to write a small thirty to forty-page document detailing a similar idea for those of us here at Corp, Inc. With so many divisions, there might be something of value in creating an entertainment-based initiative centered around a select few of us competing on an international basis in terms of accountability, interchangeability, sustainability, and of course, profitability. I will keep you all posted as to my findings.