Professional (if you can call it that) Frustration: Part 1 – The Best Suck Job I’ve Ever Had

Understand, I classify a "Suck Job" as a meager position with little authority and even less pay that you take because you need a job – any job. This mostly includes the service industry, but generally is any job that doesn't fit into your chosen career or vocation. This doesn't mean they're BAD jobs, and even (as I will empart) good things can happen there.

First and foremost, I direct your attention to the center ring…

Last Friday I went to work at Blockbuster and was greeted by my shift manager with, "You better call Scott," referring to our district leader. One never likes to be told to call one's superiors – especially the ones a couple steps up on the chain of command. I wasn't too nervous, but a bit perplexed.

I called him up, knowing that despite my unorthodox behavior as the "Active Seller" at the (now only) Royal Oak store, he couldn't say much that was bad about me. I don't adhere strictly to my job description as set forth by company policy and standard operating procedures. I joke, I come in costume, I play my ukulele on the job between customers, I bring in my barbershop quartet on occasion, and generally have as much fun with my job as the management will allow (or at least pretend to ignore). This has turned me into almost some weird kind of local icon in the neighborhood and with our customers. Despite my unusual ways, I've never had a serious customer complaint in my 6 years with Big Blue and I have quite likely the highest sales rate of any individual in the district, perhaps region, even given my meager (until recently) 10 average hours a week.

Apparently, he emparted, a columnist from the Detroit Free Press had caught my "act" after being clued into it from a coworker and wanted to do an article about me and my offbeat ways at Blockbuster! I agreed, gave a call to the Media Relations guy from corporate and got the rundown on what NOT to say (basic stuff like don't talk business trends and corporate policy). I then called the reporter to schedule an interview.

He came by this past Tuesday, watched me do my usual weekend routine on a weekday (for show), and asked me some innocuous questions about why I play that darned thing week after week. The article itself is brief, but good and in its proper context. He left out a few key details I had hoped he'd leave in like a plug for my quartet, mention of my other endeavors, and a quip praising the Blockbuster online program (per my district manager's suggestion), but the picture is nice and big!

You can purchase a copy of it here:
Detroit Free Press Archives: A Few Minutes With a Blockbuster Ukulele Player

A bit of background…

I started at the Clawson Blockbuster, after one of my occasional 2-week bouts of unemployment. Back then (late 90's, pre-kids and mortgage), finding a 'job' was easy. Each new job I took was a little better paying and my stints without one were brief. My friend Anthony, who was the store manager at the Clawson Blockbuster mentioned that he needed an assistant manager, so I figured I'd give it a go. He mentioned good benefits, quoted a decent hourly he'd suggest to the mucky-mucks that I start with, and the free rents were a nice perk, so I took the job.

It was a good job. I've always said the work to pay ratio at Blockbuster was great, even if the pay itself was not. I was well respected as an assistant manager and was often asked to transfer when there was a store in need of some shaping up in that regard. Managing is not my cup o' tea, per cest, but I got to relate to customers, talk movies, watch movies under the pretext of work-related research, and enjoyed most of my time there.

I took a year off after getting a job at Mars Music in the band instrument department. Those of you who know my theater résumé, know that "selling band instruments, AAAND instruction books, AAAnd u-nee-forms" is right up my alley. Deciding I needed to have health insurance with a family, and when that job proved to suck due to poor promotion of the store as a band instrument store as opposed to a drums/guitars/sound equipment store, I went back to BBV.

I continued to manage for a few months, but got tired and burnt-out quickly, as I was also working my new day job as an instrument repair tech and working with a few marching bands in the fall as well. I started to suck at my job and had less enthusiasm for it every day.

I had actually decided to quit when my store manager called me to a little meeting. He confronted me with my lax performance and ennui as of late, and I confessed my intentions. To my only slight surprise, he and the district leader had discussed firing me, but couldn't justify it, as I was the only one keeping their sales goals on track. He suggested the newly created role of "active seller" – someone on the floor during peak shifts whose express purpose is to promote the newest sales priorities and assist customers on the sales floor. No paperwork, no cash handling, no conflict resolution – just customer service. It would mean a bit of a pay cut and being stripped on my management authority and computer access, but would keep my benefits and relegate me solely to my strengths. Bingo.

After a few lulls during a few on my shifts, I asked my manager if I could just run to my car and grab my ukulele when the place was empty (which would happen occasionally even on a weekend night shift). A few regulars would come in while I was dabbling on it and I'd blush a bit, tuck the instrument aside and help them. A few were rather impressed, however.

As I got a bit better and taught myself some more chords, I started teaching myself songs that I felt lent themselves well to the idiom. I started with "Tonight You belong to Me", the duet with Bernadette Peters and Steve Martin in the Jerk. From there, I added a few Monty Python songs, and several other movie-related tunes – pretty soon I had a repertoire and started unabashedly playing them when there were folks IN the store.

It became my gimmick.

When I was transferred to the South Royal Oak store after my home store was unceremoniously closed, I asked if I could do the same there. I was met with a shrug and a, "why not". I serenade fussy kids with "Rainbow Connection" or "You've Got a Friend in Me", sing "Happy Birthday" when I'm clued in to the appropriate situation, and even start learning the songs from film on the in-store trailer tape (hence my ukulele rendition of Abba's "Dancing Queen" mentioned in the article).

It's gone over well with customers, overall. Most smile as they walk in, a few roll their eyes, and now I can't work a shift without a dozen people asking where my uke is if it's not immediately in my hands! I've never been confronted directly with someone who doesn't like my gimmick – only a couple relayed from folks at the register.

So that's the in-depth story BEHIND the story in today's Freep. If you'd like a print copy with a nice big black & white photo of Yours Truly, go check today's (Thursday, Feb 8^th, 2007) Detroit Free Press and turn to page 2 of section B.

If you do the web version, leave a comment for the writer! Nice guy and treated me very well, I'd say!

Oh, and let me know what YOU think of the article!

Mi Vida Loca (Take 2)

**WARNING!!***
Incredibly whiny blog ahead!

Is there ever a time of the year when I'm NOT incredibly busy?

I just got 5 hours sleep after being up for about 21 hours straight and working for 17½ of them. Money's crazy tight right now, so I'm picking up extra shifts at Blockbuster. I'd pick up extra hours at Custom Music (it pays almost double what I make at Blockbuster), but the place is only open 38 hours a week and I'm already there for pretty much every one of them. So this means that pretty much every day this week, I have virtually every moment booked from top to bottom. I'm working both jobs 3 days this week, and one or the other on 3 other days, giving me about 61 hours this week. Sunday is my only day off, and that will likely be spent on chores.

On top of that, my Barbershop Chorus has its annual show coming up on Feb 23^rd & 24^th, and as I'm in the front row, have missed several rehearsals through the fall marching band and holiday seasons, and one of the few tenors, I kinda have to be there and catch up on the songs and choreography.

The only respite I get is occasionally in the mornings after dropping Liam at school at 7:30 or so. I head to a Caribou Coffee in Royal Oak until Custom Music opens to sit, organize my planner, and maybe read a few pages of a book. Usually gets me about 1 to 1 ½ hours to either relax and/or think (rarely both, because if I think about things to much recently, I can't relax - I start to panic).

So far, to give you an idea, this is what my life's been like this week:

So far…

Monday:
7am – wake up, shower and get Liam ready for school
7:40am - Drop Liam at school
8am - Head to the coffee shop and read for an hour
9:45am - Work at Custom Music
3pm – Pick Liam up from school
5:30pm - Home for dinner
7pm – Off to Barbershop Chorus rehearsal
10:45pm – pick up some groceries
11:30pm – Arrive home, clean cat box and surrounding piles and refill, mop back room floor and replace papers, tidy living room, empty garbage, clean cat vomit off of stove and sterilize surrounding area
12:30 - make snack, go to bed.

Tuesday:
7am – wake up, shower and get Liam ready for school
7:40am - Drop Liam at school
8am - Head to the coffee shop and read for an hour
9:45am - Work at Custom Music
5:30 – Work at Blockbuster
10:30 – leave work early, as Sonya has been called to a birth
10:45 – Arrive home and do some minor chores
11:15 – go to bed

Wednesday:
10am: Wake up and shower after forgetting to turn on alarm (Sonya got Liam to school on time, thankfully, and I got a little extra sleep! Yay!)
10:20am – get to work late and get crap from annoying coworker
5:40 – get home and help with dinner
7pm – Sonya is called to ANOTHER birth
7:30pm – give kids a bath and ready for bed
7:45pm – Cresta pops by for a visit (Some actual socialization time for me!)
8:15pm – kids in bed (yet awake and whiny for another hour)
10pm – after a nice long conversation and much-needed catching up, Cresta leaves.
10:45 – after making myself a sandwich and a White Russian, I catch up on my e-mails.
11:30 – Sonya gets back, fills me in on the birth, and I go to bed.

Thursday:
7am – wake up, shower and get Liam ready for school
7:40am - Drop Liam at school
8am - Head to the coffee shop and read for an hour. Lou shows up the last 1/2 hour, we catch up a bit and I play Dr. Phil to him about women.
9:45am - Work at Custom Music
5:30 – Work at Blockbuster
Midnight – picked up a few extra hours doing inventory at Blockbuster
4am – home and bed
4:30am – actually fell asleep

Friday (Today):
10am – Wake up and shower after hitting the snooze alarm a few too many times (Sonya agreed to get Liam to school so I could have nearly 6 hour sleep)
10:45am - Sneak out of work (so as not to get docked ANY time) to pick up Liam from school and drop him home after an increasingly rare bad day in class
10:15am – work at Custom Music
5:15pm – run by bank and deposit paychecks, replenishing it from the big Goose-egg the mortgage brought it to
5:30pm – Work at Blockbuster
11:30pm – Home, chores, and plan weekend
12:30am - bed

Saturday:
8am – wake up, shower
9am – All-day rehearsal with the Barbershop Chorus
5pm – Work at Blockbuster
10:30pm – Home..

Sunday:
The kids will hopefully be in Ann Arbor all day with their grandparents, so we can get some cleaning done and maybe even shampoo the carpets like we've wanted to do for months now. Most likely the day will be filed with chores, with a brief diversion to watch the commercials during the Super Bowl. We usually have a few friends over for it, but we're flat broke, so no money for munchies, and the house needs a lot of work before we can have guests (well, maybe Leigh, since she's seen our house at its worst plenty of times). I dunno – we'll see. Don't be surprised to get a call from around 6pm saying, "The game's on in ½ hour! Come over and grab some beer on the way!"

Even my commute time is spent listening to the learning tracks for the chorus songs on my mP3 player in an attempt to get the few remaining notes in my head and wipe the bad habits out before the next rehearsal.

Next week has much the same schedule, without the inventory shift, all-day rehearsal, or Super Bowl. I'd like to say this will have me rolling in money, but Blockbuster pays just over $8/hr, so it doesn't add up quickly, if at all. Usually it's just enough to pay for the insurance premuims for the family on the company health plan. It will, however, help us barely claw out from the financial pit we're in, just before the gravedigger would cover us in the soil of collections litigation.

I'm exhausted, but keep going on pure panic, adrenaline, caffeine, and the hope that it will all calm down eventually. Getting the taxes done early and getting our (hopeful) refund may ease my mind a bit, but it's a band-aid on the problem. It doesn't solve the problem of being over employed, underpaid, immersed in debt and projects to be completed, and financially strung-out.

Realistically, this winter is going to suck, but I have little choice but to do what I have to do to keep the lights on, food on the table, and the heat pumping through our under-insulated house. However, I will maintain my hopeful and optimistic attitude and press on with the knowledge that "this too, shall pass".

Coming up next: "Professional (if you can call it that) Frustration" and "Not everything sucks – Honest!"

PS. If your wondering where I found the time to write this blog, it took me a week of lunches to complete it!

What's he REALLY been doing the past month?

Seems there's been a litany of things to blog about the past month, each worthy of a complete entry unto themselves. Problem is, they come and go so quickly and are so numerous, I don't get the chance to sit down and get my thoughts down about them before the next blog-worthy incident occurs...

Those of you that bother to waste your time reading through my overly-verbose, rambling, and often incoherent musings, know that I rarely just jot down a word or two about any given subject. I practically deluge them with similes, anecdotes, details, background, and clever (at least to me) witticisms, turning what could easily be a couple sentences into a novel of epic length...

Oh well, you're the suckers that decide to keep scrolling down your screens!

Anyway, I write more for myself and my posterity. I like my style, my vocabulary, and my subject matter – while not necessarily anyone else's cup of tea – is extremely interesting to me...

But now – ON TO THE BLOG!..

Disclaimer: The following blog is not kind simply because I know he will be reading this (Hi Paulie!), but because these are my honest feeling and thoughts. Yes, I will likely leave out any horrid details about the seething, dark underbelly of his habits and personality, but I won't cloak any negative thoughts in a veil of flowery, backhanded compliments. If my tone seems to disguise a negative perception of him at times, rest assured you're reading too much into it. I have nothing but love and respect for the guy...

I've been voyeuristically following my friend Paulie's life and blogs from a distance for several months now. The first thing you must understand about Paulie is that he is, for all intents and purposes, the incarnation of my inner-child. He and I have a lot in common creatively, perceptively, and spiritually. While we have lead very different lives and upbringings to the point when we met, the only real reasons we are currently different in many ways are due to a combination of several minutely different choices in life paths. I went the way of the hard-working family man, trying like hell to become a positive influence on the world by setting a good example (most of the time), and he the rout of the more free-wheeling bachelor, trying to inspire the world to be free-thinkers and create happiness by fulfilling your own dreams while respecting and encouraging others' dreams as well. We share similar values, tastes, and passions...

Her just gets to have more fun than I do…..

Paulie has always wanted to be a rock star. Well, honestly, who the hell hasn't? Paulie, however, has been striving towards it as long as I have known him. He's played bass in a few working local bands, written songs, and now he's actually working on preparing an album and saving the cash to have it properly fleshed out and produced in a studio...

He's gotten a lot of criticism for it, too. He's 28, gainfully double-employed working as a waiter, living in his parents' attic, and though he has a degree, is not using it (though I know SEVERAL people that can't find a use for their degree other than hanging it over the hole on the wall – but that's another blog entirely). Many (notably several in his own family) view him as a directionless lay-about, sponging off his parents and rapidly going nowhere with his life...

I SORELY contest this conclusion. Within the past year, Paulie has made several very big decisions to change the momentum of his life, while maintaining the (often ignored by many) direction in his life. He's moved back home from a rather poor financial situation in Atlanta, working more, drinking less, exercising, saving money, assessing his priorities with a critical eye, and generally decided to take a pragmatic look at his life without quashing his dreams in the process. You have no idea how much I admire him for that...

So many of us, when in our early twenties, are staring down two paths: dreams and responsibility. Very few are lucky enough to have a career in mind that we actually have a passion for, as opposed to a mere tolerance to do to get by. He has chosen to forge his own path in between the two, working as is necessary, but towards an end he has a passion for. I applaud Paulie for giving power to his dreams, while not sitting on his lazy (and he most certainly is that) ass, not ever giving thought to bettering himself or making his own living...

Recently, while taking one of my twice/thrice weekly self-imposed exiles to the coffee shop to read and chill between dropping Liam at school and heading to work, I got a call from dear 'ol Paulie B.. He said his album's going fine, but he need some work on his vocals and was wondering if I could be his vocal coach...

"Um…ahh.., ME!?"..

Sure, I sing barbershop and have a good music ed. background, but I ain't no friggin' Pavarotti! My solo voice sucks, and I rarely dare more than a drunken Sinatra song at the karaoke bar, all by my lonesome. I cannot be center stage vocally and only thrive as part of an ensemble. However, after thinking it over a bit, I agreed and we set up an evening to meet up...

Over the next several days, I found myself thinking, "what the hell can I teach HIM about vocal technique?!" I started rooting through the exercises I have picked up in barbershop (corny and cheesy, the lot of them ) and found that there were fundamental aspects of them I could use, as well as realizing I'd have little idea what he would want or need to sound like until I heard his songs...

We met on Wednesday night and he played me his stuff, and to my surprise, much of it was just plain great! Not that I was expecting them to be suck-ass garbage, mind you, but I was expecting some decent lyrics with simple melodies, centered around a single note, with very similar chord structure, that MAY have a radio ready track in there somewhere once it was fiddled with enough. ..

He played me his rough "blue prints" with only bass, guitar and his solo vocals, but what I heard in most of them was MOUNDS of potential. Most didn't need much more than percussion to fill them out. I listened to the chord structure and melody lines, and found a subtle complexity to them that was just begging for studio refinement...

Then I listened to his voice….

Paul's like me (or at least me 4 years ago): he has a bright, nasally sound that could cut glass, and while he can hear pitches well and tune a guitar relatively well without mechanical aid, he doesn't have a ton of pitch control in his voice. I sat and though, "Oh my God… I can FIX THIS! I can rebuild him! Better than he was before! Better. Stronger…MORE IN TUNE!" My mind began racing around a million and one fairly simple exercises to shore up his weaknesses. His head must have been a blur, because I was throwing one suggestion after another at him and giving him things to work on for the next week. All of the sudden, I FELT like a good (well, at least adequate) vocal teacher!

He offered me money for the lesson, which I gladly and greedily accepted (though in my heart, reluctantly at first). I wasn't sure going in that I could be of any help, and taking money from a friend for a favor is not something I'm in the habit of doing. Unfortunately, my time is sparse and I need to justify anything that isn't job, family, or household related with money in order to scale my ever-increasing mountain of bills. After our little get-together, though, I didn't feel so guilty. I have ideas that can and will work to get him closer to where he wants to be! I'm still not crazy about taking money to do something I enjoy for a friend who I don't get to see enough anyway, but while I feel a bit guilty for it as a friend, I don't have the added burden of professional guilt as well...

I'm genuinely excited about helping Paulie on this. He's open to ideas, eager to learn, humble about and aware of what he doesn't know, and appreciative of the input he gets. He's got some great songs, and a drive that'll ram through a brick wall...

I can't wait till our next lesson!

(Overdue) How Christmas Works in MY Family...

It's been over a month since I blogged, so I figure it's about time to ante up some info on my ponderings and goings on. I have a lot to cover, so bare with me here…

I'll start with an explanation of how Christmases work in my family nowadays…

The holidays were rough; both financially and schedule-wise, but not unpleasant. Not too big on the material gain/goody grab for yours truly (see my previous blog entry about my wish list), but fun on the whole and I got to spend some great time with my family – both immediate and extended. Being the only clan on both sides of the family currently with small children that still believe in Santa, everyone wants a piece of us every year. Having both sides of our family relatively close by (that is to say, within an hour's drive) doesn't help, as well as the fact the both Sonya and I have parts of Christmas traditions and gatherings that neither of us want to give up. This leads to us running around the lower quadrant of the state for 3 to 4 days like we're on a frantic road rally for our lives, attempting to please our families, each other, the kids, and ourselves to the best extent possible. Let me give you an example of the usual Christmas insanity we have turned into our traditional holiday mad-dash towards post-holiday exhaustion….

December 23^rd we usually spend grabbing the last of the forgotten gifts and goodie-makings for Christmas Eve. We say every year that we WILL not be doing this ON Christmas Eve, so we usually just barely beat our self-prescribed deadline to give us at least SOMETHING we can point to as accomplished.

Christmas Eve we spend most of the morning baking the last batches of fudge, cookies, and whatnot to contribute to my family's gathering down in Ida (about 50 minutes drive, just outside Monroe), and gather and wrap the last of the gifts for the few younger members of my extended family. Every year we insist this is the LAST year we buy stuff for the older of my cousins, who both are long past the "magic of Christmas" age and delving ever deeper into the "jaded fog of commercialism" stage. Regardless, we get them Blockbuster gift cards and maybe something token to fill it out. Who the hell knows what to get older teens/early twenty-somethings that doesn't require another mortgage of the house, anyway?

From there, about mid-afternoon, we drive out to Ida. The evening is pleasant, and spent eating good old-fashioned comfort food, chatting, catching up, reminiscing about fiascos from Christmases past, singing carols, and listening to the boys play video games in the basement. A good time is had by all. Then come the time (roughly 8 or so) to head home and plant the kids in bed so we can do the Santa bit.

We take off and pray the kids don't fall asleep too long on the ride home, so that getting them up to put out the milk and cookies and get them into bed isn't too much of a hassle. When they've set out fudge and milk for the Big Guy and some carrots for Rudolph and sufficiently hit their sugar-induced coma, we begin wrapping the kids stuff while watching Christmas movies (Usually Christmas Story for sentiment and Christmas Vacation for the tragic similarities – most notably Clark's rant about his boss near the end, which I recite by heart frequently and justifiably at work). We write out a note from Santa to the kids for them to find in the morning by the near-empty plate of cookies. Round about 1 or 2am, we hit the hay.

Christmas Day, we start out with the Rockwell-esque unveiling of the gifts, squeals of joy, and hopefully a decent breakfast of eggs and the traditional candy cane-shaped coffee cake her family has made every year – and coffee. LOTS of coffee! After basking in the glow of the kids faces for a while and watching them play with their loot, we pack up the presents for Sonya's family and drive to her parents' place for Christmas Day, Part Deux.

We arrive at Sonya's folks' place, and after dawdling for what seems an insufferable period to the kids (and often myself as well), we FINALLY get to the tree to pass out gifts there. This usually goes on for quite a while, as there are now 7 of us (Sonya, myself, the kids, her folks, and her brother), and we somehow feel the need to "ooh" and "ahh" at each gift for a few minutes before passing out the next. When the gift-giving is completed, it's off to prep for Christmas dinner.

Usually including Sonya's dad's cousins, Ruth & Neta, Christmas dinner is usually a flurry of cooking, clearing, cleaning, and such, but much time is spent (in between passing out h'ors duvres and setting the table, etc.) simply relaxing, munching, and chatting. The traditional meal of beef, potatoes, veggies, cranberry relish, and usually walnut-cheese cutlets for the vegetarians, is capped off with the Ferris' incredibly rich and filling Christmas Pudding, drenched in a molten buttery, sugary goodness of a sauce. 2 bites is enough to have you fasting till Groundhog Day to drop the extra pounds.

When the feast, subsequent groaning about overindulgence, and chatter are through, we pack up our gifts and hit the road. The kids are usually already in jammies and fall asleep on the drive home. We carry them into the house, drop them in bed, have a nightcap, and collapse on our bed in utter exhaustion. But it ain't over yet…

You'd think when Christmas is over, things calm down, right ? WRONG! Now that we've done the gift exchange with Sonya's family, it's time to do the gift exchange with my more immediate family. So, the day after Christmas we usually head to my grandfather's house in Bloomfield Hills to exchange gifts with him, my mother, and my uncle – usually over pizza. The day after Christmas is also the day my great-uncle and aunt usually have their Christmas family gathering at their place in Birmingham. When the calendar permits, we do my grandfather's in the early afternoon and my great-uncle's in the evening. Not so this year.

The day after Christmas I worked all day and we did my great-uncle's in the evening. It was nice, if a bit awkward. Usually a lot of extended relatives I only see once a year at just this gathering. I'm inevitably sucked into a conversation about how school is going, and have to regale them with my latest excuse and/or reason for not being done yet. This begs the perpetual reply of something akin to, "Aww, that's too bad. Well, keep pluggin' at it!" Ugh, to avoid that topic all together…

There's usually a gaggle of the younger crowd in the den, watching TV and Liam often wanders in there to show off his favorite toy and watch cartoons or whatever "guy stuff" they happen to be watching, while Courtney soaks up the adoration of the older folks and plays with whatever doll she brought. There's good food, once again, and family I have no problems with, but nothing particularly in common with. It's more obligation and habit than a real desire to go.

The next day was work, then to my grandfather's. My uncle was taking my grandfather and his friend to see White Christmas, so we got a late start. We gave some clever gifts that were well received. The kids got some neat toys, Sonya and I got money, and we had pizza – the usual. I was enjoying Christmas, but by this point, I just wanted to sit in front of the TV for half a day and catch my breath.

From there, a certain level of normality begins to take hold, with the slight bump of New Year's Eve. Usually Sonya's parents are happy to take the kids while we go to whatever gathering we've been invited to or just have a quiet evening at home. This year we had planned to drop the kids at their grandparents' in Flint, then head to a friend's house for a party a mere mile from their place.

Due to miscommunication and lallygagging, we didn't get the kids to their grandparents' til about 9. I drove them up myself, as the hour was getting late, our friend Leigh had come by, and the holidays had us completely worn to the bone. So we decided to forego the party in Flint and just spend New Year's at home with a friend. I did manage to stop by and make an appearance, drop a contribution to the party fare that Sonya had made, have couple bites of munchies, and a lovely, if brief, chat with Nyma and Todd. I got to see their perfect little house, as well (I was impressed - just so right for them).

After my stop in Flint, I headed back home and got back about ½ hour before the big moment. Sonya, Leigh, and I opened Champagne (1 good bottle and one ancient bottle we rightfully didn't expect to be consumable), shot off some leftover bottle rockets from the 4^th of July, and spent the next few hours just laughing, drinking, talking and watching movies. It was absolute, relaxing fun.

That, my friends, is how insane I am at Christmastime and why I haven't had much chance to blog. We should just alternate years between our families, I know. It would make things SO much less crazy. But we both love our traditions and don't want to miss anything if we can avoid it. Over the past several years we've both had to sacrifice pieces of it due to work, illness, or other obligations and it's left us a bit disappointed each time. Not to mention the inevitable hints of guilt trips we'd get (or at least feel) from whichever side of the family is spurned on any given year. Trying like hell to get 15-20 people happy and placated in one house has been a tradition on my mom's side for generations – and those are the Christmases I hold most dear in my memories.

…if I only knew the hell my parents and grandparents went through to make them that way.

Coming up (eventually): "Post-holiday stress disorder" or "How to fail miserably in business even though you're trying like hell" or "What's he REALLY been doing the past month?"!

(or some other useless bits of rubbish)

A remarkable example of greed and avarice...

I've had several of my family members ask me for a wish list for Christmas. I have kept an ongoing wish list I edit about twice a year (birthday & Christmas). I sent it along to them, and I figured it would make a decent blog entry so either you could gain further insight into my greedy and materialistic side or if any of you manage to sue someone wealthy, inherit a large sum from a distant relative, or win the lottery, I might get a thing or two.

Here's what i sent out:

Okay, you're all family (or ones I consider family), so no doubt you've been curious or have downright asked me for a Christmas list. Boy, you people are masochists. Okay, but remember (some of) YOU ASKED FOR IT!

Disclaimer: The things itemized in this list are the heartfelt desires, outrageous whims, and just plain daydreams of a greedy mind. They in no way express items I EXPECT to get in any way, as most are expensive, irresponsible, silly, or just plain wrong. With the exception of tuition funds and car repairs (my top priorities, by the way), most are pretty frivolous. This is an ongoing list that I revise from time to time, so other than simply crazy stuff (i.e. my own island, $1 million, and a fleet of Austin Minis), pretty much every thing that pops into my head drops on here eventually.

Here we go!

(Alphabetically)

1. Archos Media Player – 30 gig minimum in any of the following series: AV300, AV 400, AV500, AV700, 504, 604, 402E
2. Book – Congress-The Drum Corps Science-Fiction: The Coming of Congress by Larry & Phyllis Kirk
3. Book – History of Drum & Bugle Corps: Volume 2 (www.drumcorpsworld.com)
4. Book – Janet Chiefari – Introducing the Drum & Bugle Corps
5. Book – Jodeen E. Popp - Competitive Drum Corps (Olympic Printing Inc., call 847-296-3015)
6. Book – Judy Garty – Marching Band Competition
7. Book – Kim Holston – Marching Band Handbook
8. Book – Silent Bob Speaks: The Collected Writings of Kevin Smith by Kevin Smith
9. Book – Star Trek: Best Destiny (hardcover) by Diane Carey
10. Book – Star Trek: Captain's Glory by William Shatner
11. Book – Star Trek: The Eugenics Wars Volume 3 (hardcover) by Greg Cox
12. Book – Star Trek: The Return (hardcover) by William Shatner
13. Book – The Complete Marching Band Resource Manual by Wayne Bailey
14. Buddy Christ Dashboard Statue (www.jayandsilentbob.com)
15. Car Repair – New Brakes
16. Car Repair – New EGR Valve
17. Car Repair – Tune-up
18. CD – William Shatner & Leonard Nimoy - Spaced Out!
19. CD – 'Weird Al' Yankovic - Straight Outa Lynwood
20. Cologne – Eddie Bauer EB21
21. Cologne – Ralph Lauren Polo
22. DCI Calendar (www.dci.org )
23. DVD – An Evening with Kevin Smith II: Evening Harder
24. DVD – Animaniacs
25. DVD – Clerks II
26. DVD – Clerks: 10th Anniversary Edition (any video store)
27. DVD – Clue
28. DVD – DCI Legacy Collection – full boxed set or any individual DVDs except 1992 (www.dci.org)
29. DVD – Dodgeball
30. DVD – Family Guy, Volume 4 (get the special edition at Target – it has extras)
31. DVD – Ferris Bueler's Day Off
32. DVD – Greatest American Hero (Full Series Deluxe Box Set)
33. DVD – Hong Kong Phooey
34. DVD – Indiana Jones Trilogy Box Set (any video store)
35. DVD – Kids in the Hall, Seasons 2-5
36. DVD – Little Shop of Horrors (1998 with Rick Moranis and Ellen Green)
37. DVD – Monty Python & the Holy Grail
38. DVD – Monty Python's the Life of Brian
39. DVD – Monty Python's The Meaning of Life
40. DVD – Muppet Treasure Island (any video store)
41. DVD – Scrubs: Seasons 1-3
42. DVD – Spiderman II
43. DVD – Star Trek: Insurrection – Collector's Edition (wide screen – any video store)
44. DVD – Star Trek: Nemesis – Collector's Edition (wide screen – any video store)
45. DVD – Strange Brew
46. DVD – Superman Returns
47. DVD – The Big Lebowski
48. DVD – The Complete Monty Python (series box set)
49. DVD – The Garbage Pail Kids Movie
50. DVD – The Great Muppet Caper (any video store)
51. DVD – The Muppet Movie (any video store)
52. DVD – The Muppets Take Manhattan (any video store)
53. DVD – The Simpsons, Seasons 2-8
54. DVD – The Weird Al Show
55. Costume – Silent Bob Trenchcoat (Have Val make it)
56. Costume – Star Trek Burgundy Uniform Jacket (Have Val make it)
57. Folding Keyboard Stand
58. Gameboy Advance games - Super Mario Advance 2, 3 & 4 (any video games store)
59. Keyboard Sustain Pedal
60. Laptop computer with 1.6 gig (or better) processor, DVD/CD-RW, & as much RAM as possible
61. Royal Crown Revue Bowling Shirt (XXL, www.rcr.com)
62. Star Trek Comm Badge - http://www.startrekexp.com
63. Star Trek Hockey Jersey, Starfleet or Klingon (XXL)
64. Star Trek Rank Pips (4) - http://www.startrekexp.com
65. Star Trek Uniform Jacket (XL) - http://www.startrekexp.com
66. Trombone - Bach Stradivarius 42BO w/'F' attachment or Conn 88H w/'F' attachment
67. Tuition Funds (I currently have a $1,400 bill) made out to Wayne State University – Highest Priority!
68. Yamano Hand Roll Piano (www.audiocubes.com)

Just a Quick Question...

I usually write tomes of epic length here, but this time I have just one simple question...

Am i the last fat, goatee-clad, low-brass playin', Weird Al listenin', music geek that's NOT in Phi Mu Alpha!? Please! TELL me there's someone else out there!

It truely pisses me off that I missed my chance to join. Pledging a fraternity at 32, even if there was a chapter local enough to do it, just seems...well..wrong...

...But I WANT IN SINFONIA, Damn it! All the (in my perception) cool guys are!

...just askin'.

Today, I lost a Mentor...

It's funny how little you may recognize or appreciate how important someone can be to the greater plan of your life – even when it's perfectly obvious to everyone else.

Dick Perkins was not a warm & fuzzy kind of man. As my high school band director, he was very proper, professional, and extremely dedicated to his work. Our relationship never went beyond teacher-student to become respected colleagues, as I had hoped. Even as I became a music educator myself, he was just one of those teachers, no matter how adult you get, you could never call by his first name to his face. He would always be Mr. Perkins.

I would see him at marching band and drum corps shows fairly regularly after I had graduated and gone on to instruct, myself. We would make eye contact, walk up and say hi, we would banter briefly about this band's woodwinds, that corps' guard or what some classmate of mine/former student of his is doing what nowadays. Our conversations were always brief, good-natured, but awkward and uncomfortable. I always felt like such an amateur talking music to him, like a 3^rd grader talking to a physics professor about how well he knows his multiplication tables. Eventually, I tended to avoid going out of my way to say hi when I would see him at shows to avoid the awkwardness.

I'm bitterly regretful of that now…

Today I received a call from Ralph Biggs. I hardly ever hear from Ralph anymore. I could almost sense what was coming.

Richard H. Perkins died this morning in a hospice of a rare brain disease, as I understand. He went peacefully in his sleep. He had suffered what was originally thought a stroke several weeks ago, and his health had been failing since.

I had just seen him at the DCI Quarterfinals broadcast last August, looking fit as the proverbial fiddle, and exchanged a few awkward sentences.

Of course, it was a great disappointment to me when I heard the news, but to be honest, I didn't feel particularly sad. I was at work, distracted with a million different tasks, thoughts of the coming holiday, and basically shrugged it off with the feeling of, "that's a darned shame."

Later, after grabbing some pizza and inviting our friend, Leigh, whom we were in the band with, I dragged out some old cassettes of our band concerts. We listened through pieces like Holst's "First Suite", some show tune medleys, and such, and toasted him with Jolt Cola (the favorite drink for 7am marching band rehearsal in 1990). Then a lush, gorgeous arrangement of "Danny Boy", played with depth and dynamics rarely heard in a high school group, wafted through the living room. I imagined Mr. Perkins waving his baton in front of me on the podium as I played…and I cried. I finally realized what I had lost. I had lost one of my greatest mentors.

I have always attributed my interest in music and my desire to pursue music education as a career to several teachers in my life, often giving more credit to the ones that used the style of teaching I wanted to emulate: the slightly off-the-wall, exuberance and energy that is magnetic and inspires the same energy in others. Richard Perkins was not one of those teachers.

Richard Perkins was the kind of teacher that didn't need any of that. He inspired great performance and learning by an exceeding love and knowledge of music. Most importantly, however, he never underestimated the talent of his students. He would pull out class AA music for a band of 50 high school kids and have them playing it every bit as well as a university level symphony band. He taught theory, history, multiculturalism, and balanced it all with an unrivaled diversity of repertoire that expanded every student's musical horizons.

I suppose I never appreciated it much, even recently, because it was a standard I felt I could never live up to. Cracking jokes, getting excited, and being a cheerleader to get kids to work – that I can do. But having the kind of depth of knowledge of music and skill and/or knowledge of every instrument, music history and theory, let alone the work ethic to be able to fit it into virtually every lesson plan – that, I feared, I could NEVER do.

And so I distanced myself from him. Not intentionally, but I let his legacy and the greater lessons of his example slip lower in priority in my professional memory. I focused my attention to the teachers that fit more into my teaching style: the fun ones, the ones that cracked the occasional bad (or usually dreadful) jokes, the ones that made the work not seem so much like…work. Many equally good teachers, mind you, but completely different from Mr. Perkins.

After reflecting today on 4 years (plus one season instructing) with Mr. Perkins and the Dondero bands, I came to an epiphany. I realized that my professional development, as with all things, must be about balance. Being a cheerleader and full of energy and enthusiasm for the subject I teach is useful and important, but just because it's what I'm comfortable with doesn't mean I should rest on my laurels by relying on it exclusively.

If there is one major life lesson I learned from Dick Perkins, it was this: The work may be hard, it may be boring or even excruciating at times, but the rewards are far richer when you do it right, learn something from it, and know that you succeeded through your own perseverance.

Thank you, Mr. Perkins. You will forever be a part of me, and your legacy will live on through every student I teach and ever note of music that emanates from me for the rest of my life. I will work for that.