After my jiu-jitsu class yesterday, I had to head into Shibuya to pick up my newly-tailored skinny dress pants. It was a beautiful afternoon, and I was coursing with extra energy after my workout, so I decided to walk back home. Passing through Omotesando, which is kind of the "Madison Avenue" fashion district of Tokyo, I named checked all of the usual suspects along the street. Max Mara? check. Paul Smith? check. Ferrari? check. She loves SUITS? ch-e-e-e... wait.
Back up a second.
"She loves SUITS!" (capitalization and exclamation mark theirs, not mine). Seriously. It's the shop name. Don't believe me, here's a link.
Fantastic stuff. When I become Galactic Overlord in 2012, ALL businesses will be forced to rename themselves in a similar manner:
GAP --> We love BLAND, POORLY-MADE GARMENTS THAT CAN ONLY BE WORN ONE SEASON!
Louis Vuitton --> She loves LOOKING LIKE SHE'S MADE OF MONEY!
McDonald's --> We love HEART ATTACKS!
Barnes & Noble --> They like BOOKS! AND THE ABILITY TO BUY OVER-ROASTED COFFEE WHILE IN THE NEAR VICINITY OF BOOKS!
Rixxx's Adult Video Shop --> He likes PORN!
See, truth in advertising. Good stuff.
Sure, it's not the most exciting blog entry ever, but considering I've only posted twice in the past month and a half, you have to take what you can get.
My music collection is becoming, in a word, unwieldy.
As of this morning, my iTunes music library sits at 1285 artist, 2360 albums, 17,1923 tracks. Or, in terms that really put it in perspective, 58.9 days of continuous music.
As I've said before, when I'm at home, I typically have my music on all the time. Because my collection is so large, I usually just leave it on shuffle and let the Gods of iTunes decide my playlist for me. This, therefore, leads to a lot of me hitting "skip" on the remote control when, for example, the Gods decide that the perfect follow up to Glen Gould playing Bach is Napalm Death playing thrash metal.
Anyway, I got an application named "Beatunes", which analyzes my iTunes library and helps me clean up a lot of the inconsistencies. For example, the band "R.E.M." being listed under 3 different spellings, or my copy of the Rolling Stones' "Exile On Main Street" being catagorized as "Reggae and World" music. While analyzing, Beatunes also offers a bunch of interesting statistics. One that caught my eye was the "skip/play" ratio. Simply put, this is a statistic that notes how often you actually let a song play all the way through versus the number of times you skip ahead to the next song (or "Fast Forward" for all you cassette-loving luddites out there). The results were somewhat surprising, so I thought it would be interesting to look at my "Top Ten Most Skipped Songs" and the reasons behind my itchy-skip-trigger finger.
Top 10 Most Skipped Songs in Harmaceutical's Collection
10. The Beatles, "Yellow Submarine". I love the Beatles. I can listen to the Beatles pretty much all day. It's hard to argue that they were the pinnacle of pop music. Yellow Submarine, however, makes me cringe. I bet you 10 to 1 that the minute you saw it there, it got stuck in your head. Yeah, well me too. Thus, I never need to actually play it all the way through ever again.
9. The Killers, "Where the White Boys Are". I also really like the Killers, and I'm in the small minority that actually prefers their second album, "Sam's Town", to their debut "Hot Fuss". God, I hate this song, though. Asinine lyrics, and it just seems to drone on and on. It makes me want to listen to Springsteen do it right, so I usually skip ahead and do just that.
8. Led Zeppelin, "Bring it on Home". Led Zeppelin II is indisputably one of my favourite albums ever (also, historical note, it was the 2nd CD I ever bought, on the day I bought my first CD player in 1987). I actually really love this song, but it's very much a late night chill out song, and for some reason the Gods of iTunes insist on cueing it up at 8:00 in the morning for me, so it tends to get skipped alot (however, it also tends to get played a lot -just at night is all).
7. The Pussycat Dolls, "Don't Cha". Yes, I have TPD in my library. Yes, I know. It actually happened like this: I bought one of the Nike + iTunes jogging mixes which gives you a full workout in a single 45-minute track that is pre-mixed. That mix is great and perfect for a morning run. When you buy it, however, they also give you each track individually. Which leads to my skippage of several of the tracks, including this one.
6. Eminem, "Spend Some Time". Some of the album "Encore" is pretty good, some is crap. This is crap. Skip.
5. Luscious Jackson, "Naked Eye". Actually, I love this song, however when I burned it from CD into iTunes, there was a glitch, and about 3 minutes in it makes a horrible shrieking noise. Instead of erasing it and then re-burning it, I usually just listen to the first 2 1/2 minutes then skip ahead before the noise of death. Yes, I take laziness to new levels. Funnily enough, I heard this in a cafe the other day, and it didn't sound the same when played to it's full length.
4. Armin Van Buuren, "A State of Trance, Episode 400". Well, this is an easy one to explain away. It's a 5-hour! live broadcast of Armin's Trance radio program. There aren't that many days when I feel like sitting through 5 hours of trance while at home. I usually listen to about the first 30-40 minutes, then skipparoo.
3. Foo Fighters, "Times Like These". I love this song, but the version in question is from a live bootleg CD. The song itself sounds fine, but Dave Grohl tells a 5-minute story at the end of the track that was funny once, but has become more and more painful with each listen since then. So, I usually skip ahead once the music stops.
2. Beastie Boys, "Song for the Man". Beastie Boys = great rappers, but also = really crappy punk rockers.
1. Above & Beyond, "Good For Me". Possibly my favourite trance song ever, but it has very, very, very strong ties to one particular relationship I was in. I refuse to delete it, because the relationship meant so much to me, but it's painful to listen to, because the relationship meant so much to me.
And, there you go.
By the way, if you were wondering what song has the highest play count, and the lowest skip/play ratio, it should be fairly obvious if you've been reading my blogs for the past 3 years:
I was feeling so pumped up after my jiu-jitsu class yesterday morning that, in a mad fit of endorphin-and-adrenaline rushing, I signed up for my first Brazilian Jiu-jitsu tournament. The competition, which is on December 5 if you'd like to pre-order your pay-per-view package, is actually just a small, in-house competition taking place at my dojo. Nothing is on the line except for bragging rights. Since I still have yet to submit even a single person in our sparring sessions, I'm not expecting to go all the way. Mostly I just want to see if the adrenaline rush from a real fight is different than that of a sparring session (my money is on "Duh, yeah.")
Insert Rocky IV-style training montage here.
P.S. While the action shot above may look like me totally dominating, I'm actually caught in a very effective spider-guard. My sparring partner finished me off roughly 6 seconds after the shot was taken.
Well, last week marked four months since I took up Brazilian Jiu-jitsu and made sweeping changes to my diet and lifestyle. And while my weight seems to have plateaued at 81 kg (178 lb.) for the past month, my body is still doing crazy things to itself. Muscle mass is still being packed on, and the mass on my body seems to be moving itself around drastically.
One off-shoot of all this is that my waist is shrinking drastically. It was 38" when I came to Japan 11 years ago, and is now sitting at about 30". The problem is that I have no idea when it's going to stop shrinking, so I'm hesitant to go out and buy new pants yet. This means that my dress pants all look a bit like Hammer-pants on me (Can't touch this!), and all my jeans are looking very baggy as well. All my jeans are 32"-33" in the waist, and they're becoming quite a challenge to wear. Even with my belt cinched up to an almost uncomfortable tightness, all my jeans are hanging low on my waist. While this is offering the population of Tokyo a likely unwelcome glimpse of my undies (Under Armour if you're wondering), it also means that the pant legs are hanging down much farther than they should. So, I keep stepping on my hems, which is creating several unpleasant side-effects:
1. The hems of all my jeans are pretty much tattered now, which means even my nice "going out" jeans look like they've been caught in a paper-shredder.
2. I have tripped and fallen on my own hem more than once in the past few weeks. Since I keep hoping to show off the cat-like reflexes Jiu-jitsu is giving me, this is rather embarrassing.
3. I most often step on my hems when going up and down stairs. This has led to me essentially pulling off my own pants on more than one occasion. Of course, this phenomenon only seems to happen when I'm on a public staircase, like at my local subway station during rush hour. It is really only a matter of time until I get arrested for indecent exposure.
Anyway, I shouldn't moan about what is really a very small inconvenience that's coming with a very amazing life-changing experience. But, I really do hope that my body shape levels out at some point soon. I want to go shopping!
I was recently given a $50 gift certificate for Amazon.com, so was browsing through some book choices. When I look at the customer reviews, I always make sure to look at the 1-star reviews as well as the 5, mostly because I know they'll entertain me.
Anyway, the best line, and broad generalization, to be found today was the beginning to a 1-star review for Max Brooks' "World War Z". The reviewer states:
"Like most readers, I'm a zombie fan."
I think that may become my new critique-phrase for everything:
At a restaurant: "Like most diners, I'm a zombie fan."
At my jiu-jitsu dojo: "Like most martial arts practitioners, I'm a zombie fan."
At my future wedding: "I take you in sickness and in health, and, like most grooms, as a zombie fan."
On my tombstone: "Here lies Harmaceutical. Like most people, he was a zombie fan."
There are few things in life that I love as much as sitting in a cafe as evening falls, sipping on a well-brewed coffee and reading a good book. I would have made a great Parisian, wearing berets, sipping on a glass of red wine and chain-smoking Gauloise as the world passed me slowly by.
This lady of mystery sums up everything I love about Cafe Culture. Even more intriguing, as I got up to pay, I noticed that, according to all her work files that were spread across her table, she works for a company called "Nakedstore". "Naked" and "Shopping" are two of my favourite things to do. A match made in heaven.
Photos taken on my iPhone and edited with a mix of two apps: Camerabag, and BestCamera.
Considering that I live a life of leisure, and that I have a job that has been described as "cushy" by several people who know me, it is rare that I have any kind of workplace-related dream, or that I remember them when I do. Last night's dream, however, was so hilariously awkward, that I felt compelled to write it down the minute I woke up in a cold sweat.
As you may know, I am the head editor of all material produced by my school. I have final say on all texts and other materials used in our classes. The materials we produce are all in aid of teaching strategy for the TOEIC test, an internationally-recognized test of English comprehension and ability. Thus, all our material has to match the actual TOEIC test down to the smallest period, comma, or dreaded semi-colon. There is little room for pizazz.
In the dream, I was sitting at my computer in the office when the company president walked into the room. "Matt," he said, "I've decided that our material isn't 'punchy' enough, and that we need to spice it up a little."
"Uh, ok," I ventured warily.
"So, I've hired two aspiring Hollywood screenwriters to give it a bit of zest."
He walked me over to our meeting room, where two pimply-faced teenagers of no more than 16 were sitting. They spoke and moved with the forced enthusiasm and confidence of professional pitch-makers.
"Heya Matt," the left one greeted me loudly as he lunged across the table to grasp my hand. "Larry, give him the new material."
Larry, the guy on the right, handed over a massive stack of papers. "You'll also want this," he added, handing me a battered Beta-video cassette (seriously, I have dreams where people carry around Betamax videos. Man, even my subconcious is geekily obsolete).
"What's this?" I asked, looking at the video tape.
"It's what we based our entire overhaul on," says Larry, grinning. "We wanted to make the test more dynamic and action packed, so we used the classic film 'Top Gun' as our starting point."
"Top Gun?" I was incredulous.
"Yeah, man, have you ever seen it? It's about a hotshot pilot who------" (and this is absolutely true: in my dream he proceeded to outline the entire plot of Top Gun) "---- and so, you see, we wanted to give the test material more of a Simpson-Bruckheimer action-packed kind of feel."
It was at this point where I looked at the sheaf of papers he'd given me.
Now, in the REAL TOEIC test, a typical conversation goes like this:
Man: Susan, have you finished making the budget proposal for Friday's meeting? Woman: Not yet, Mike. Give me 5 more minutes. Man: O.K., but remember we need to have the copies of it made by the end of the day.
In the Simpson-Bruckheimer version my dream associates handed me, the conversation went like this:
Man 1: Mr. President, we've now moved to Def Con 4. Awaiting your authorization to send in the 414 Attack Squadron. Man2: Permission granted. God speed gentlemen, and give them hell. Man 1: Damn, that Maverick sure is one heck of a shot!
Unfortunately, it was at that point that I was awoken by the early-morning garbage collection in the street outside my bedroom. I lay in bed for a long time, wondering exactly where the hell that particular nightmare had come from.
There is a mental checklist of things that I plan to do in my lifetime. The checklist has a lot of blank boxes that still need checking. Visit Madagascar? Still blank. Drive the Alaskan Highway? Still blank. Make it all the way through the unabridged Don Quixote? Yep, still blank. This list, of course, culminates with the inevitable "Become Galactic Overlord in 2012", which will obviously stop being blank in 2012.
Yesterday, however, I did manage to check off a box that has been open since I was 17 years old. It took me 18 years of careful thought, consideration, and planning. Numerous designs were made and rejected. I was waiting until the right time in my life, the right design to come along, and the right artist to be met. Yes, I understand the permanence of my actions, so I wanted to have something that will still ring true tomorrow, next year, 5 years from now, and when I am 104.
Although I had my heart set on either "English Teachers Do It With Emphatic Adverbs" or a full scale portrait of myself in a tiger-striped Speedo, in the end the choice was clear.
So, I present to you -- my first piece. Thanks to my friend Reiko for piecing together the design on Photoshop for me, and many thanks the mighty Shu, for his amazing work, and for making it as painless as possible. Photos courtesy of my friend and Jiu-jitsu sparring partner Darren, who came along for moral support and gentle mockery.
The Web site Rotten Tomatoes, which is a useful and entertaining database of movie reviews, has compiled their list of The Worst 100 Movies of the Past 10 Years. If you're not familiar with Rotten Tomatoes, movie scores are compiled from journalistic movie reviews (TV, Newspapers, some of the bigger blogs) and assigned a "Freshness Rating" from 1 (Rotten = Horrible) to 100 (Fresh = Excellent).
Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am a massive BAD MOVIE LOVER. Seriously, I believe "The Core" should be required viewing for anyone wishing to be my friend. So, I was shocked, SHOCKED I tell you, to discover that I've only seen 3 of their top 100 Worst movies. I'm clearly not trying hard enough. It almost embarrasses me to admit that the only ones I've seen are.
#48 Bloodrayne
I will admit that I saw this completely by accident on TV one night, and the only reason I didn't change the channel was because I was trying to figure out where I had seen the main actress before (answer: Terminator 3. Now the world can rest easy).
#28 Rollerball
I rented this because it was directed by John McTiernan. I figured "Hey, anything by the guy who brought us Predator and Die Hard can't be THAT bad, can it?" The answer: Yes, yes it can. It's so much worse, because it absolutely refuses to admit that it's a bad movie. I felt embarrassed for everyone in the movie, and I needed to take a shower after it.
#27 Battlefield Earth
Now, here I'm genuinely disappointed. I was promised this would be the single worst movie ever made, and it only makes #27 on the Rotten Tomatoes list. I rented this with the expectation of getting a train-wreck of a movie, and I wasn't left wanting. This movie is AWESOMELY bad! Everything, from the story to the costumes, from the over-acting to the script itself, it's AMAZINGLY awful. I loved every minute of it, and I could watch it over and over again. Heck, the primitive humans defeat the aliens with MATH! (thus proving our high school teachers correct in that "Yes, you do need to study calculus for the real world"). Not only that, bu the scene where the humans learn math is done as an action montage to rival any of those "training" montages from the Rocky movies.
So, how many on the list will YOU cop to seeing? Let me know. I'll use it against you if you ever run for public office. Here's the link again.
Why, Hello there! I didn't hear you come in, I was busy thrashing around the apartment, shredding on my magnificent air guitar (today's soundtrack: AC/DC "If You Want Blood, You've Got It").
What's that you say? I should be spending less time rocking out, and more time keeping you in the loop. All right then, we'll take a few seconds out, before I get to my blistering encore.
So, What's up with me?
Uhhh, let's take a look in the 3-ring binder of awesomeness that is my life:
1. As always, the big thing in my life continues to be my Brazilian Jiu-jitsu. Tomorrow will mark exactly 3 months since my first lesson. In that time, I have lost 11 kg (24.25 lbs), and gone down 4 (FOUR! COUNT 'EM BABY!) holes on my belt. Plus, I'm still packing on muscle mass like a mad man. I'm finally beginning to feel confident in our sparring matches, and although I have tapped anyone out yet, I'm not getting tapped out nearly as often myself. Today I'm going to attempt to go to a class for the third straight day, the first time I've tried to do it. Just a sign how much my endurance is picking up. I love it at my dojo. I've met so many cool people, I feel so good when I'm there, and my teachers are both super-heroic human beings (thanks Yamane-san and Ishikawa-san --you guys are the greatest!)
2. For those of you wondering how my annual summer battle against the cockroaches played out, it was almost total victory! Seriously, catnip is the bomb! In early summer when I was separating a cockroach from his/her life/family once a day. Since spraying catnip around my kitchen, window and doorframes about two months ago, I've seen maybe 2 of the little devils.
3. Great Googaly Moogaly! Last Friday was my 11th anniversary in Japan! Unlike other years, when I really felt it creep up, this year it just kind of breezed by. No idea what the future holds, but I'm in a good place right now, so am just enjoying the ride.
4. I was a little disappointed in the first hour of the new season of "The Amazing Race". The racers came to Tokyo, and in fact, the shrine that was the first pit stop is only about a ten-minute walk from my apartment (dammit, I wish I'd known --I would've loved to spot the mighty Phil Keoghan in the flesh). But, I thought it was actually the dullest Japan leg the Amazing Race has ever had. HOWEVER, everything was completely made up for in the second-hour Vietnam leg. Two words: DUCK HERDING! I could've watched the contestants herd those ducks across that bridge for hours. When I become Galactic Overlord in 2012, you can be sure the first thing I'm doing is making duck herding an Olympic sport!
5. Somehow, on my walk to my Jiu-jitsu dojo on Monday, I ended up making a cameo on some crazy Japanese comedy show. I was accosted by a Japanese comedian (whose name I always forget), and thrown into a routine about a policeman on a manhunt for a Japanese pop group named Tokyo. Unfortunately, it was very early in the morning, and I was half asleep, so I probably came across as a complete idiot, but I managed to wake myself up and get in a couple of zingers by the end. No idea when/if my segment will be included in the final program, and no idea what channel it's even on, so we'll just file it under: "Embarrassing moments that could come back to haunt me when I run for public office."
6. I get to go clubbing next week! I'm so excited! I haven't danced for a while, and it will be my first chance to truly show off my new slimmer, more flexible self. And DJ'ing will be trance legend Paul Van Dyk! Oooo, oooh!
7. So many other things to tell you, but I can hear the crowd beginning to get restless. Time to take the old iTunes off pause, and go give my adoring fans (i.e my teddy bear Bjorn) the air guitar encore of the century!
The Mentalist, Cold Case, Numb3rs, Without A Trace, CSIs (Vegas, Miami, NY), NCISs (Los Angeles, uh, wherever the other one is)... I could go on (the list certainly does).
One thing that could safely be said is that Network television has beaten. the. police. procedural. show. into. the ground. With. a. sledge. hammer.
Or, so I thought, until I saw this nugget in several sources, including Variety.com:
As for Redlich, "The Rememberer" centers on a female NYPD detective who harbors the ability to remember everything she encounters.
Seriously? The Rememberer? Is that even a word? Can you even say it out loud? 3 Times fast? Not to mention that it does sound like the wishy-washiest plot device ever.
Cop #1: You look confused, Sarah. Do you have a lead?
The Rememberer: I just remembered. I left the oven on. Be right back.
It's official. Hollywood is completely out of ideas.
I, however, have several. Not for something new, no. But, I have a grander vision. My vision is to inject new life into a show that has long since passed it's prime:
CSI: Miami
Entering it's 8th season, it could desperately use a new "hook". So, without further ado, here are some new supporting characters in the vein of The Rememberer that I would like to see added to the show.
1. The Interruptor
Sample scene:
Horatio Cain (standing over a body found in a hockey rink): Well Frank, it looks like this is one body (puts on sunglasses) that we won't have to ----
The Interruptor: Hey, anyone seen my gloves?
YEEEEAHHHHH! (cue The Who theme)
2. The Proscrastinator:
Sample scene:
Horatio (entering the interview room and addressing the suspect): Well, Mr. Chavez, if you take a look at the results of these tests we've run on your clothing, you'll see... wait, where are the samples?
The Procrastinator: Sorry, chief, I'll definitely have them for you soon... uh, or, maybe tomorrow.
3. The Prevaricator:
The Prevaricator (hunched over the corpse): I estimate the time of death at 8:07 P.M. Cause: strangulation by telephone cable.
Horatio: Well Frank, looks like this is one smooth operator (puts on sunglasses) who got his wires crossed.
The Prevaricator: Ha! Just messing with you! He was shot.
YEEEEAHHHHH! (cue The Who theme)
4. The Responder:
Horatio (looking at body mauled by a tiger): Well Frank, this is one man who (puts on sunglasses) let the wrong cat out of the bag.
The Responder: Hang on a 'sec. What does that even mean? Who the hell would keep a tiger in a bag? Also, "Let the cat out of the bag" is a proverb that means tell someone a secret. That has absolutely no bearing on this crime scene at all. I mean, what the hell? Are you just going to spew non-sequiturs all day?"
(The two look blankly at each other, Frank shuffles away embarrassedly in the background)
YEEEEAHHHHH! (cue The Who theme)
5. The Premature-music-cuerer:
Horatio (standing over body with large Japanese katana sword sticking out of it): Well Frank, this is one young lady who (puts on sunglasses) won't be-----
Now, I don't like to tell you what to do, but I'm afraid this time I must insist.
I need you to drop whatever you are doing right this very minute, grab your coat and wallet, and go to your local record seller directly. I don't even care if they're open or not. You're resourceful, I can tell. Find a large rock, trash can, or medium-sized dog and heave it through the window. Do whatever it takes, but come out with at least one of the newly released remastered Beatles CDs. It doesn't matter which one, simply choose your favorite.
Forget about the obvious criticisms, such as do the Beatles really need any more of your money?
Because, quite honestly, the answer is no, no they don't. Yet, yet, they deserve your money for the job they've done on these digital remasters. Unless you happen to own a laser record player, and have somehow managed to keep your vinyl album pressings in mint condition since the 1960's, you have NEVER heard anything like these remasters. I love the Beatles. Let me say another way, in case I'm not being clear: I love the Beatles. Nope, there is no other way to say it. I love them. I thought I knew their entire catalog inside and out. And I do.
Yet I've been sitting here for 5 hours now, a cup of rapidly cooling tea in hand, perched on the edge of my chair, absolutely mesmerized, hypnotized, caught up in something magic.
I have heard each and every one of the songs I have listened to for the past 5 hours at least 1,000 times before, and yet I have never truly heard them until this very moment. I am speechless.
That the Beatles are great songwriters and performers has never been questioned. But, think of it like having a tattered post card of the Mona Lisa hanging on your wall for decades, and then one day looking over to discover that it was the original --freshly painted and as bright and vibrant as DaVinci intended it to be.
I am speechless, so I write. And I write to implore you. Get your favorite one, get them all, just do it. Trust me on this.
P.S. If you're curious, I didn't get the complete box set, for reasons that would take too long to explain. So far, however, of the remastered series, I have picked up: -Help! -Rubber Soul -Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band -Magical Mystery Tour -The Beatles (White Album) -Abbey Road
It was brought to my attention by one of the Japanese guys at my Jiu-jitsu dojo tonight that in my new jiu-jitsu gi:
I look suspiciously like:
I cannot keep living a lie, and I have only myself to blame for so blatantly giving away my super alter-ego. This, of course, will only make me a target of giant monsters created by radioactive materials carelessly dumped in our oceans. All my years of work and disguise gone in an instant. Damn. And, I thought the glasses at least would mask my true identity. They did work for Superman for 70 years, after all.
In which your host, Harmaceutical, analyzes song lyrics to determine whether the singer is justifiably bragging, or just tooting their own horn.
Case Study #1 The singer: Kid Rock The Subject: "Devil Without A Cause" from the album Devil Without A Cause (1998)
Claim #1:
You knew that I was coming cause you heard my name But you don't know my game and never felt my pain
Analysis:Devil Without A Cause was actually his 4th album, and his first major-label release. His 2nd and 3rd albums are no longer in print, and sales figures for his debut album indicate that it sold under 1,000 copies. Also, I'm not sure what kind of pain he felt, but I have a lovely bruise from jiu-jitsu last night, and it's feeling pretty tender today.
Verdict: Hot Air
Claim # 2:
Watch me throw like a fist of rage
Analysis: A strangely premonitory statement, as Kid Rock infamously got into a fight with Motley Crue drummer Tommy Lee at the 2007 MTV Awards. Impulsive heated moment, or predetermined by prophecy?
Verdict: Well, he said and he did it --Hard Fact
Claim #3:
From hangin' with sinners and second hand cheap sex To gettin' much respect from top record execs
Analysis: The only mention I could find was from Andy Karp, who was Atlantic Records Vice President in 2001. Re: Kid Rock: "So I went out to see a Kid Rock show in Cleveland, and….he was fantastic!" Well, I guess that does count as "much respect", at least from one exec.
Verdict: Half-Hard Fact
Claim #4:
Used to call me dummy when my nose was f#@king runny Now my f#@kin' bunnies gettin' f#@kin' Matchbox 20 money
Analysis: Shocking fact learned while researching: Did you know that Matchbox 20 singer Rob Thomas has contributed to more than 75 million albums of record sales!!? (Including Matchbox 20, his solo work, his work with Santana, and other projects). I'm not sure how much Kid Rock is spending on his "bunnies", but I doubt he's spending that kind of money on women of "loose morals." By the way, if I totally misread that line, and he is, in fact, discussing raising pet rabbits, KTIV TV in Sioux City estimates that the annual cost of owning a rabbit is US$885, which to me seems much less than "Matchbox 20 money".
Verdict: Hot Air
Claim #4:
Devil without a cause...I'm going platinum
Analysis: The album Devil Without A Cause has sold over 11,000,000 copies in the United States alone, making it an 11 times platinum release.
Verdict: Hard Fact.
Final Verdict:Gotta hand it to him, he makes some pretty ballsy boasts for a debut major-label album, but overall he came out on top. The jury sides with: Hard Fact.
Long time readers (and I mean those who have been reading my blogs for a long time, not those who take a long time to read blogs) know that one of my favourite things in the world is running. But, they will also recall that I had to stop jogging about a year and a half ago, because something was seriously wrong with one of my legs. After months of visits to doctors, X-rays and MRIs, it was determined that I get chronic tendinitis in my lower right leg. It was recommend that I stop running, and focus on lower-impact exercise like swimming or cycling. So, I did the logical thing.
I took up an extremely high impact form of martial arts --Brazilian Jiu-jitsu.
Have I mentioned that I tend to be a little stubborn and independent? (Party Capricorns in the House raise your hands and say "Hey, Yeah!")
Actually, in the long run, it's not as crazy as it seems. Jiu-jitsu is very demanding physically, but the emphasis is really on stretching, strengthening, and conditioning. With the added changes to my diet, and generally healthier lifestyle that I've been living, I am rapidly getting into the best shape of my life.
Which leads us to today. I went to bed really early last night, so was up shortly before the sunrise at 5:00 A.M. this morning. It was an absolutely glorious morning --clear blue skies, not too hot, and none of that pesky Tokyo summer humidity. I couldn't help myself. I threw on some shorts and a T-shirt, grabbed my iPod, dug my running shoes out of the closet, and hit the streets.
Keep in mind that I hadn't jogged at all in the last year and a half, and that the previous three times I'd been jogging all involved me collapsing in pain from my leg and having to take a cab home. It was with some great surprise that this morning I covered somewhere between 4-5 miles in 40 minutes, and that I didn't stop or slow to a walk even once during the entire run. I didn't have a single twinge in my leg, and I felt as strong as a Buffalo.
I feel absolutely on top of the world right now. Unstoppable, unbeatable, and ready to rrrrrrrumble.
It was just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other and moving. Moving forward. Only Forward.
(Thanks fellow Multiply-er Heather. Your own words on running this week moved me to take the first step out the door. Big, big love from Tokyo)
P.S. "Disappearing Harm Status Update":
Weight: July 1, 2009 (First day of Jiu-jitsu) = 92 kg (203 lb) August 30, 2009 = 83 kg (183 lb)
Sure, my favourite grocery store that was a block away closed last year. And, sure, my other local grocery store closed during the winter. And, yes, sure, my local convenience store also closed.
But, none of that matters any more. For, my local wine shop has just installed the best-stocked vending machine in the history of the Universe. Thank you, universe.
In case you were wondering, it is 53 steps from my building, and you need to insert your driver's license to be able to use it.
Although so much of humour is culture-based, I always love it when comedy can span borders, oceans, continents and peoples.
Exhibit #1: This is a TV commercial from Russia. All you need to know is that it is for an insurance company. The man is trying to find an insurance office to purchase the legally required Russian car insurance. When he walks into the office, that is all he asks for. Everyone's reaction is self-explanatory.
I must have watched this 20 times today. It's the guy at the end that kills me every time.
