Paradox Ink

Semi-Daily Observation for 3/13/08

2008-03-13T09:11:00.000-07:00

Engineers and Scientists should never be allowed to compose their own procedures. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that Engineers and Scientists should never be allowed to use Microsoft Word.

This has been Adrian Segura's Semi-Daily Observation.

31

2008-02-23T16:19:00.000-08:00

It’s kind of odd – I’ve had plenty to write about, but little to no ambition to put it to print. Excuses are as follows:

A. I had the flu for an entire week.
B. I turned 31.
C. The Navy shot down my satellite.
D. I’m pregnant.
E. My cat voted for Ron Paul.
F. Britney Spears stole my car.
G. I was traded to the New York Knicks.
H. I was in rehab.

Pick any of the above and be satisfied, as I’m not one to make excuses. I just provide them as needed, mostly as a service to you. Customer service is important to me.

I celebrated my 31st birthday on Wednesday. Turning 31 wasn’t a big deal, neither was turning 30. For many people, it’s a birthday of note, as it suggests entry into the Halls of Adulthood. It wasn’t that significant to me. Looking back, I think 27 was the eye brow raising birthday for me – I was a 27-year-old guy hanging out with a very young woman at 18 and older clubs. I felt old then.

Must have been all the idiot children that were at the club or the security guard that tossed my drink in the trash because he thought I was sharing it with minors, but I imagined myself to be quite out of place. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not attempting to present myself as a codger or anything, but trying to get along with pre- and current early twenty-somethings was an ordeal.

Being naïve, careless, loud, and obnoxious is only so charming…

My point being that thirty ought one is not that big of a deal to me. Life has suggested some changes as age has found me, however – I’ve retired from basketball leagues. I’m more aware of what I do to my body. I’ve future proofed my interests. I worry less. I make better decisions.

Am I boring? No. I’ll punch the first nun in the face who accuses me of that!

My Guitar Life. A Photo/Video Essay. Part One.

2008-02-23T15:36:00.000-08:00

1983-2001
The "I Know What a Guitar Is..." Years

2001 - 2007
The "Air Guitar Hero" Years

October 26th, 2007

The day that inspiration told me to shut up and listen.

December 23rd, 2007

The day of "My First Guitar!"

December 27th, 2007

The stage known as "Learning on Your Own..."

December 29th, 2007 - January 6th, 2008

The "Mommy, Make the Mean Man Stop!" days.

January 7th, 2008

The day I began learning from an expert.

January 7th, 2008 - Current Day

Something makes perfect...

January 28th, 2008 - February 18th, 2008

Sounds like a....

A new entry to be logged in soon...

He's Not Jesus

2008-01-21T11:06:00.000-08:00

I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but Ron Paul is going to save the world from itself. No, it’s true. He’s going to collect all the nuclear weapons in a big fishing net, fly 93.4 million miles into space and throw them all into the sun. He is! Don’t give me that look. I can see you through the internets and you’re giving me either “something smells in here… someone needs a diaper change” look, or it is your basic disbelief.

Well, it would appear to be true if you listened to Ron Paul’s flock. You see, Ron Paul is this politician who is attempting another run at the White House. He’s doing covert work for the Libertarians while disguised as a Republican and he’s the Internet’s Most Popular candidate. He’s raised quite a bit of money for his campaign, or so the blindingly annoying ticker on his website says.

He’s secured $13.4 million dollars in donations.

Paul has this incredibly rabid following on the internet and it’s down right disturbing. These people are vocal in their support to the point of fanaticism. You can post an anti-Ron Paul entry into your blog and it will act like chum in the internet seas. After a short while, the internet killing machines will swim up to your blog and thrash wildly against it. It’s pretty interesting. You should try it sometime.

I envision these folks, huddle up to their PC’s, with the Ron Paul website up, repeating a mantra and watching the campaign donation numbers soar over and over again. When I say Paul is being played up like he was the messiah, I’m not joking. There are countless blog comment posts that say these words (or similar): “Ron Paul is America’s last hope. I really think that.” That sentiment is expressed in various different ways on the web.

And don’t try to question Paul’s politics. It’s heresy. A Ron Paul worshiper sticks pretty close to the Church of Ron Paul’s dogma. It could cost you your internet soul.

So let’s get down to Ron Paul’s politics – he’s against big government and he’s for allowing the private sector to fill in what the government will leave behind under him. He backs the Constitution. He wants certain issues to be left up to the state, as opposed to the federal government.

Some highlights –

He’s against regulating the internet.

He wants to pull the U.S. military out of Iraq and everywhere else (including Germany) today.

He wants to disband the IRS – that’s right, he wants to get rid of the IRS.

He wants to eliminate the Department of Education.

You could also drink the Kool-Aid after reading that, right? No IRS? Wow!

So let me have a crack at the Ron Paul politics – he sucks. He wants to disband any government office that does not have a role in the Constitution. That’s pretty fanatical as far as I’m concerned. It’s similar to a Conservative Christian who only does what the Bible says. Is it a good idea to dictate your current condition based on a document written hundreds of years ago?

I’ll expand this a little further – if you’re a NASA employee or contractor, Ron Paul threatens your livelihood. NASA has no “Constitutional role” because NASA didn’t exist in the time of Thomas Jefferson. Ron Paul would eliminate the agency toot-sweet if he was given the power. He believes that the private sector is better equipped to explore space. It’s a damn shame that private space agencies don’t care about science. They care about putting the rich into orbit for thrills.

Science doesn’t make money. It’s not about the bottom line… thankfully.

Paul makes a lot of “it sounds good” claims but has yet to show a plan to make them all work. Trimming government is a great idea, but hacking at it with a massive legislative cleaver is dangerous – where do all the people on the government payroll go when their office no long exists?

It’s foolish to think that the private sector will quickly hire them.

And let’s be real here, the private sector isn’t all that great. It doesn’t work as well as you’d think and if there’s any lesson to be learned over the years, the private sector is not good for one’s well being. There’s a reason why we don’t live as long as the average European. There’s a reason why our quality of life is well below the EU’s. It is because of our need to be productive first and healthy second. That’s all due to the private sector’s influence on life.

Ron Paul will enhance that… and we’ll all probably die as a result. Well, that’s probably an unfair claim, but I’m going to make it anyway. Do we really need MORE capitalism? Shouldn’t we temper our incredible productivity with some… social programs? Such as socialized medicine? Perhaps a 35 hour work week? What about more holidays? Government sponsored nanny and home keeper programs for new parents? Anything?

I won’t get into the fact that David Duke and many white supremacist groups back Ron Paul (I don’t think Paul is a racist, but I think his ideals empower them).

So, Ron Paul has some good ideas, but the rest of them are ridiculous and silly. I can’t fault him for having imagination. He’s the Willy Wonka of Washington. I will fault him for not balancing his views with reality.

Ron Paul Blows 2008 - $13.4 million thrown into the crapper. But countless bloggers inspired.

The Single Most Important YouTube Clip of the Week

2008-01-16T17:49:00.000-08:00

Guitar Lesson Two: Done.

2008-01-16T07:07:00.000-08:00

It’s freezing outside – 37 degrees according to my car at 6:30AM.

Guitar lesson two was completed on Monday and it was a good time. I’m showing some progress with the chords I’ve learned. We played a shuffle together and I’m grasping the concept of the blues rhythm as it manifests (or is supposed to) on the guitar. The 12-bar blues is pretty basic, at least that’s what I’m coming to understand at this point. Essentially, it is a three chord song as played thought 8th beats.

Sounds really simple, doesn’t it? Three chords… 8th….

For me, it seems nearly impossible. The good news is, as I’ve learned more about the guitar, the 12-bar shuffle seems within reach. The next light in the tunnel is approaching.

Homework was liberally assigned this week – terminology, shuffle play, chord memorization, and chord transitions. Vince is challenging me as a student, so I’m eager to see where I go.

The new change to my practice schema is that I am bringing my guitar to work now. I will play at lunch and on breaks. Then I will go home and play more.

My buddy, Mike, sent me the best cartoon I’ve seen in my life and it captures my passion perfectly… right down to the type of guitar:

Hell yeah.

Guitar Lesson One: In the Books

2008-01-08T07:52:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a particularly long day. You see, I woke up around 4:45 in the AM to head to the gym. I haven’t seen the inside of a gym in months and you can tell. My gym, the Glendale 24 Hour Super Sport (because I’m a super sportsman) didn’t quite seem like I though it would. It was January and normally the gym is packed with Resolutioneers, looking to undue the months of November and December. But the gym seemed subdued.

I managed to crank out thirty minutes on the elliptical (156 average heart rate), which was my goal given the fact I haven’t worked out in months (due to a bad knee and a worse job). I didn’t feel that fatigued by the end of the run and my knees were no worse for wear. And I can report that my knees feel just fine a day later – despite it being cold out. I’m only mildly sore.

From the gym, I made it into work early enough to get a decent spot in the lab’s premiere lot for those of us who don’t park on-site. My work day was long – about 11 hours. My guitar lessons were in Glendale, which is on the way back home. I didn’t feel the need to drive home then drive back into town for the instruction, so I stayed at work. I won’t be doing that again as it wore me the hell out.

My instructor, Vince, is an accomplished musician and blues guitarist. He knows how to play the mandolin and the blues harp (harmonica). He also owns a Stratocaster from the early 60’s and an incredible Bassman amp and reverb. He’s got some incredible tools and the skills to play them, as I saw for myself.

Instruction began simply enough, with a blues primer. He explained the 12-bar blues. Who plays them and why they are played. He broke a basic12-bar blues song and played a bit. After that, he showed me the chords and I played them as best I could. The results were okay, but good according to Vince.

I think I sounded like a parrot being put into a rusty meat grinder, but there were times I did sound like he did.

I was able to play a relatively difficult chord (a form of A) that he was impressed with. He said that most guitarists are not able to play that chord with one finger because they don’t have the finger strength or shape. I was able to play it well a few times, without a muted note.

Vince also noted how well I was able to adopt the blues rhythm, apparently that’s a challenge for people learning.

Vince is very patient and accessible – he encouraged me to call him whenever I run into a problem or had a question. He gave me homework, which I’ll be working on religiously in the coming days. And… the lessons have been rescheduled to 5PM.

Now I’m committed to one hour a day… let’s see where I end up.

Update:

So I spent about an hour and a half practicing. I may be a little hard on myself, but I didn't see a great deal of improvement. What I did like was the fact that my strumming has improved quite a bit. I also sense accuracy has seen an increase as well.

What I practiced - A7, D7, and E7 chords. I have A7 and D7 put to memory. E7 I will have tomorrow. Played along with Jimmy Reed... I have the blues rhythm down like tree roots. Progress.

Also... my fingers look like I touched a frying pan fresh from the burner. There's some pain as well... make typing tough. But it's a good kinda hurt.

I've Seen The Amy Fisher Sex Tape

2008-01-05T08:33:00.000-08:00

Listen, if you're:

A. Younger than 21 years of age.
B. Squeamish.
C. Digesting a meal.
D. Have a heart condition.
E. My parents.

...you may wish to skip this entry because it may:

A. Ruin you for life.
B. Cause you to pass out.
C. Cause you to throw up.
D. Kill you.
E. Inspire extreme disappointment in your heart for me.

The film opens in a single shot scene of the Long Island Lolita, who, thanks to age resembles more like the Long In The Tooth Lolita or Long Island Larry, if you consider the accent, nude in a tub. The tub appears to be of quality design and the wonderful window choice for the bathroom. It really brings natural light into the room. And yes, I'm trying to describe anything else of than Amy Fisher and that bizarre husband of hers.

Since you really can't avoid them, I'll get to it - Amy Fisher looks like she hasn't been in the sun for most of her adult life. A light shade of pale, meanwhile that husband of hers must live in a tanning bed. Fisher has a pretty decent body for a woman in her 40's (I'm guessing). She does sport two artificial boobs though.

So anyway, as you can imagine, there's sex and it is scary. It's as scary as the dialog... and let's just say, the script isn't going to be appearing on Masterpiece Theatre anytime... ever. But it is the dialog, the sharing of loving communication that makes this film a classic.

The husband sounds like your grandfather. So imagine your grandfather, without any emotion, telling your grandmother to touch herself, but in a Long Island accent. "Touch your c*it... rub it." That's hot.

Criminals.

The acting is great - I particularly enjoy the improvisation work that went on in the shower/tub scene. Amy is pleasuring her husband and he's about to complete the deed when she beckons:

"Come."

And he replies, "On your face?"

And in a brilliant example of improvisational acting, she says, "No, on my tits," artistically proving that it truly isn't a man's world. This film has a message, my friends.

She does complete this incredibly moving scene with a line that will live on in film history, "I love to taste my daddy's c*m." I think this speaks to the intrinsic need for all women to need a father in the their lives.

In the final scene, we're taken to the bed chambers belonging to Fisher and husband for a final dramatic recreation of Hamlet, I think. Or was it gruesome looking intercourse? Oh yes, it was intercourse. I think her husband's lesser parts was called Hamlet? Maybe I had finally slipped into a pornographic coma at this point and had been searching the internet for a therapist. Whatever the case, they do it... AGAIN.

It starts out, like most professional relationships, with oral. Someone's using Viagra. Then when that whole train wreck is done, he picks her up, like it was their wedding day again, and crosses the threshold of Hell and plants her on the bed. Then the real crime happens...

"Does... that... feel... good? Danger... Will.... Robinson..."

Thankfully, actual procreation is averted in the entire film.

Overall, I found that the film had a lot to say to the audience, in the same vein as Citizen Kane. With cinematography, I have to say that the idea of a single shot scene is ingenious. It would be like being there with your eyelids superglue'd open and your head fused forward. I call it "The Prisoner of War" shot.

Is it worth the price of admission? I think that depends on how much someone is paying you to see it.

Ron Paul 2008!

I Kill Dead People

2008-01-03T10:43:00.001-08:00

Zombies are a lot fun, they truly are. Yes, they want to eat the living. Yes, they are mindless to the point to where turning a door knob to open a door is a challenge. And yes, they usually follow each other around and don’t observe any kind of independence. And yes, they have been contributing money, web space, and their potential vote to Ron Paul. But they are so much fun to take a chainsaw to. Really. Fire up the gas powered felling machine and apply it generously to the walking carcasses that malinger about.

My socio-political commentary isn’t really focused on politics and society, but on a videogame. It’s called Dead Rising and I enjoy it a lot. And you gaming geeks, don’t give me any noise about the game being “so old;” I just got my Xbox360 from my folks as a Christmas gift. A wonderful Christmas gift.

So the premise of this game is basic – zombies are at it again. Something has turned the majority of the population into the walking dead and they are very hungry. They are not vegans either. They want to eat people, for the most part, and of course you play a “people” in the game. You’re a photojournalist with very little concern about law or safety, as you are dropped onto the roof of a massive, yet overrun mall in “anywhere” U.S.A.

You progress through the story – let me explain that most games these days no longer use “lives.” You know what I mean? You get three lives to start a videogame, with the opportunity to earn more depending on performance. Current games don’t give you lives. You usually are given one. And the goal is no longer to post a high score, but to progress through the game’s plot.

Can a videogame have a story? Yes. Stories that rival 90% of Hollywood’s yearly output. As a writer, I know stories… both good and bad.

Getting back to Dead Rising, the story unfolds as you manage to stay alive. I think I am about half way through the tale and my guess is that the story will reveal why and how people have turned into the undead. There are some very interesting characters and unbelievably scary and evil people in the game that you have to deal with who are very much alive.

There are few reasons why this game is a lot of fun – first, the atmosphere is amusing. Imagine a mall, invested with hundreds if not thousands of zombies. The moaning and shuffling around. It sounds creepy right? What is funny is the game doesn’t insert creepy music most of the time, all you hear over the zombie-chatter, is…muzak. Mall music. I found that hilarious. Oh sure, there’s a lot of deadly things wandering about, but let’s listen to the best of Michael McDonald as performed by Zamfir.

You have the various characters you run into that are surviving the invasion as well as the evil bastards thriving in it. The evil ones really make you dislike them.

And of course, you have the wanton violence – you have to be able to dispose of a zombie army somehow and the game developers give the player the freedom to use just about anything to do. You can pick up a bench and smash it into a shuffling ghoul. You can pick up a potted plant and crash it into the head of a zombie. Dishes. A frying pan. Patio furniture. Stuff animals. Soccer balls. Lead pipe. Coat hanger. Stratocaster guitars. Plywood sheets. Shopping carts. Ketchup bottles. Cooking oil. You see it, chances are, you can use it.

Of course, you have the more traditional weapons – baseball bat, chainsaw, handgun, shotgun, katana blade, 2 x 4… lawnmower. All of them bloody and insane. Basically, fun for adults and a great way to blow off some steam.

The last couple of nights, I’ve been spinning this game in the 360, smashing zombie skull while Lupe sits next to me on the sofa. Our cat, quietly napping, while Lupe reads a book detailing the diary of Marie Antoinette. I’m splattering virtual blood all over the place, the cat sleeping, and Lupe being smart. Interesting run of the intellectual spectrum there.

“Fantastic!”

Guess What Was Just Delivered? A NEW YEAR!

2007-12-27T15:08:00.000-08:00

I’m going to go cliché’ it up right now and say, with 2007 almost put to bed, 2008 is on the horizon. Don’t you hate it when people use clichés? It’s lazy, isn’t it? Which goes to prove my point of sports broadcasters being the most laziest bunch of bastards in the media. They are also about as interesting as a burlap bag. I don’t care what anyone says about Sportscenter… it’s not that great of a show. It really isn’t.

That statement also remains Gospel Truth for 99% of what is being broadcasted on network television. All of you who thought Friends was an amazing show really have to spend a little time watching I Love Lucy and the Honeymooners. Every sitcom that has ever been produced is a version of either show. Fact. Whacky neighbors? Social dilemmas? Interracial comedy? All there. “Been there, done that.”

Why did I write the above? I don’t know.

Christmas was a pretty nice holiday for me, although I was quite far from family. My girlfriend was very good at making me feel at home…in our home. Well, you know what I mean. We had our 6’ Christmas tree up with all the trimmings. Maki, the Unholy, was chasing his toys around and running amok in his “cat tunnel” structure. Burl Ives was singing through our television… it was really nice. We drank apple cider… we were white people for a change.

As far as gifts went, I have no reason to complain about anything – Xbox360, an acoustic guitar, leather bound version of the entire Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series, the Levon Helm book, three Classic Album “Making of…” DVD’s, “The Last Waltz” on Blu-Ray, a PS3 game, a small collection of clothing. Enough already. The Xbox360 is great and is a money sink. My brother got one too, so now we’ll be able to kill things together again.

Really, it was a nice holiday for me. And I’m really glad 2007 is going into the books (cliché) because it sucked for me. Bad job. Car problems. Money famine. [Edit: just lost the football pool - $800] It blew. But 2008, let me tell you, is going to be very different. I’m not playing organized basketball anymore, in fact, if you find me on the court, consider it an odd occurrence – it’s not a passion for me anymore. I’ve got a new one.

It’s guitar.

I need to spare my knees from the grinding and pounding of the sport. I’ve done enough with it, anyway. It’s time to make music and be on stage… it’s time to perform with a band… it’s time to make music that sounds like this:

Holiday Friggin’ Cheer

2007-12-24T13:53:00.000-08:00

Is it even worth mentioning that I haven’t posted anything substantial in ages? Based on the number of people who actually read this thing, which doesn’t include my own parents, I could easy call the both of you and tell you I’ve written something new. Expect a phone call, I guess.

It’s common knowledge that I am now back with the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. If this is news to you, allow me to tell you a “little story.” I initially left JPL/NASA back in June to take a wonderful position at First5LA, a children’s advocacy group located in lovely downtown, Los Angeles.

This new job had all the markings of a bright and productive future for me. At least that is how it was sold to me. Who would have thought, back in July, as I rocked a three piece Jones of New York pin stripe suit, that 90-days later, I would be begging for a way out.

To put it mildly, that position was the single worst job I’ve ever had and I’ve had some real dogs in my day. Working for Macy’s, a company that could care less about its employees, being accused of theft, and working with some of the clueless of human beings was high on my “Crap Jobs” list, but First5LA took the prize.

You’re probably wondering, “What happened, Adrian? It seemed all too good.”

It’s difficult to say where exactly it all went south for me. There was no communication at all. I simply appeared for my 90-day review and left with my probation extended 45 days and a large question mark over my head. An eye brow permanently raised, as well.

In July, I started at First5LA as a Contracts and Compliance officer. I received a large increase in pay and authority. Reporting directly to a Director was just what the doctor ordered. The new position would require me to research state law, records policies, and better business practices to ensure the organization was operating within the law. I was excited.

The new office was very different – lots of women, family-focus, flexible approach to work hours, seemingly competent leadership. I wasn’t used to that. The tempo of the job was much slower in comparison to JPL.

Two months into the job, there were signs of bad weather. A torrent was headed my way.

My supervisor, the director, had become a very rare sight for me. Here she was, the one responsible for all my training, taking on a staff of an additional 19. She left on a week’s vacation at one point. On another, she was at home with her kids for half a week. I wasn’t a priority and I was busy looking for things to do. In a couple of the 6 total meeting we had, she apologized for not being more available.

I did find work to do, in the form of research while she was out. LexisNexis and Google aided in my search for policy issues amongst non-profit organizations. Did I mention that’s what First5LA is? My fault.

This research apparently got me into trouble one day when my supervisor called me in and said I had been seen on the internet too much. I wasn’t sure what she meant, but she told me to just “be cool.” And that I had “no friends out there, nor did anyone else,” meaning everyone was out to get the other. Well, there’s a pleasant working environment.

Shortly after my 90th day as an employee, I had my review with my supervisor. The review was to cover my 90-days and move me from probationary employee to employee. I felt a little uneasy about the meeting because my supervisor’s attitude had changed about me and I saw this in the interactions we’d have in the halls. I really felt like I was going to be terminated that day, so the day before, I had packed up some of my stuff and took it all home.

The review wasn’t about me getting terminated, but it was about bullshit that was nearly on the same level. She told my probation would be extended 45 days and cited the following reasons:

I was seen on the internet too much.

I left early 5 times in 90-days.

I hadn’t shown her what I was made of yet.

I addressed the first two issues, as they were the only tangible and remotely intelligent points. Explaining that I use the internet to research law and policy, I was hoping to show that anyone who was spying on me would see I was on the internet… a lot. Working. She said she understood.

The early departures were for medical or family reasons – I hadn’t had health care in two months, so I had to set up a new doctor and dentist. Also, I had to address some personal family issues. Worst of all, SHE approved all the early departures. If these absences were not an issue then, why are they an issue now?

Her final reason was and still is, the most ludicrous I’ve heard. She admits to not being around enough for me to be trained. She admits this IN the review session. But then says I haven’t shown her what I’m made of. Talking out of both sides of her mouth, she truly shows her shark-like ways. Her assistant brags about how fair she is, but the truth is, she is quite the opposite. She is fair with those she thinks deserves it, making her judgment unfair.

“I haven’t been around to help you… to set you up. That’s my problem. I will take responsibility for that.”

How is extending my probation taking responsibility for her mistake?

A few days before, in a staff meeting, she ranted about people being on the internet too much and some mystery person who had their headphones on when she went by their office. This person, who she said was in another department, never saw her. She told me in that review, I was that person. She was pissed off I didn’t see her when my back was to her and my headphone were on. Headphones, by the way, she told me to get because my office is next to the kitchen where I hear and smell everything.

She never bothered to tap me on the shoulder to talk to me. I guess she just stood there and stewed, until she had enough to inspire her to leave. How is THAT my fault?

But her rant in our staff meeting was filled with such vitriol, you would think someone had insulted her. In fact, I think that person did, in her little world. To think I was the person that she was ranting about made me really consider how this person leads.

In the review, she also said that she didn’t like the fact I moved my monitor so that no one could see what I was doing. I did that because people who were watching me were causing problems for me behind the scenes. Common sense.

I had, months prior to this review, requested a privacy filter for my monitor. In that infamous staff meeting, she said she wouldn’t be authorizing the purchase of any of those filters because “nothing you (she used the universal you, but she meant me… she told me this) work on is that confidential.” That’s fine. But why do 20 of the 23 people who work in our department have one?

Getting back to the “points” she made to extend my probation, it’s worth saying she said she understood why I left early and why I was on the internet. But my probation extension remained. She said she liked me and didn’t want to lose me. She also said that an entire department had their probation extended by First5LA. I didn’t care. That was them and I am me.

I was also told I’d be reporting to a peer instead of a director. Demoted.

The entire review was about how I sucked. No mention of the massive records retention policy I crafted with no records experience. It was a two month job I completed, accurately, in two weeks. It took her longer to tell me the goddamn thing was approved. No mention of anything else I’ve accomplished.

I worked for NASA. I accomplished a lot. How could I be successful on the big stage and be a complete failure on a smaller stage?

Seven total awards. Two promotions. Leadership role. All under the NASA scope…

Was this entry mostly a bitch-fest? Probably. But people had been wondering what happened so… I told you.

Where am I today? In my underwear, writing this. Professionally, I’m back at the lab in a BRAND NEW position… back with friends. But there are people I miss at First5LA. I still talk to those people.

Now that I have cleared the air, I can get back to the good stuff.

Happy Holidays.

The Most Important YouTube Clip of the Week

2007-12-12T14:47:00.000-08:00

...so I haven't posted in a while. So what? This will make up for it.

My First5LA Experience

2007-11-30T12:30:00.000-08:00

...summed up in a .gif file.

I Quit My Job Today

2007-11-02T20:11:00.001-07:00

...and it feels so good.

-Adrian

To Be An American

2007-10-28T20:15:00.001-07:00

Sometimes we Americans take ourselves way too seriously. I personally think we revert to our primitive tribal ways and it works against us. We also fall back to our symbol worship. You know what that is right? When one believes in a symbol to the point where common sense and decency goes right out the window, right? Right. Here’s an example:

Look, I’m a proud American. I respect the veterans of this country. I don’t bad mouth the country. But first, I am a logical human being and recently it has been very hard to be a logical human being and a proud American. Honestly.

The above video is a prime example. This veteran, and I thank him for his service, should really reflect on his actions. To destroy private property in the name of his country is not only illegal, it is also disrespectful and contradictory to the very values he served to protect. Freedom of Speech.

The Mexican flag shouldn’t be flying over the U.S. flag. Fine. Is it illegal? That’s questionable per Texas v. Johnson, but let’s say it is illegal. Just for sake of discussion, let us assume flying a flag above the U.S. flag is absolutely against the law. Who is responsible for the application of the law?

The U.S. Justice System.

Not Jim Brossard.

Vigilantism is illegal.

Why not walk into the store, perhaps with some baked goods for the owner, and explain the symbolic (remember, these are flags of cloth, not babies hanging from the pole) insult to him? That would be far too diplomatic and intelligent of an approach. Instead, let’s be bullheaded and ignorant, as most of the world must perceive us as, and destroy private property?

Brossard is being touted as a “real American hero.” If you step back and look at his acts objectively, he didn’t really protect America’s ideals dealing with life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness (personal property). Not very American.

Here’s the spin on Fox News – notice how the issue about Brossard’s breaking our law is mentioned for a matter of seconds before the real agenda is brought up.

And if any Right Winger is reading this – I don’t support illegal immigration. I’m not a "liberal." I was born in the country and I quite certain I’m smarter and better looking than you, so get off my blog.

How I'm Living

2007-10-26T09:22:00.000-07:00

There's a lot to be said, however the timing isn't exactly right. You can't simply scream the truth on a public information avenue. It could end badly. But if I could summarize what is going on with me, I'd do it using a clip from YouTube.

By the 12th of November, I should be able to speak freely about this particular situation. In the meanwhile, I will take my baseball glove and baseball, and bounce it off the walls of my cubicle... er... cell.

The Single Most Important YouTube Clip of the Week

2007-10-22T20:44:00.000-07:00

This clip helped me with a tough week.... "All's quiet on the fish front!"

Columbus Day is Today

2007-10-08T11:27:00.000-07:00

How can one discover a land that already had people living on it? I'm thinking it is a discovery because the culture that Columbus was sailing for, is considered to be "superior." Meaning, they wore pants and lived in large buildings. And there is a perception that they were "smarter" than the people they ran into in the New World (which wasn't really new if you consider people had been living there for several centuries).

So, let me get to the point - given the stated, I live in a large building. I wear pants. And my girlfriend and many others whom I didn't pay any money, perceive me to be "smarter" than many people. Now I look on my handy dandy Google maps on my equally dandy handy smartphone, looking for a region where people don't live in large buildings, don't wear pants, and do not have people who my friends would consider smarter than me.

I will be claiming "Alabama" in the name of the United States and Queen George Bush in a fortnight. If you live there, I have beads and bottle caps to trade for your land. If you don't trade me, I will give you small pox infected socks and thongs. Then I will force you to march to South Dakota.

In 1492, Columbus sailed the Ocean Blue.

In 2007, Adrian sailed to Southern Heaven.

Let's remember the following facts about Christopher Columbus -

1. He didn't discover America or even North America. He didn't even set foot on North America.
2. He intended to sail to Asia. Oops.
3. He didn't promote the fact the world was round. Most of his peers already understood that to be fact.
4. He rewarded his crew with 12 and 13-year-old native girls to rape.
5. He was responsible for the killing of hundreds of native people in various ways, such as mauling by dogs.

We shouldn't have a national holiday commemorating this guy. It's sad that we have a holiday that celebrates Columbus, but not one that celebrates the Native American. Thanksgiving doesn't count.

Alabama, I haven't forgotten you.

The Single Most Important YouTube Clip of the Week

2007-10-05T09:19:00.001-07:00

...it's a couple of days late because of stupid people in Maryland.

Hate Served on the Early in Maryland

2007-10-03T16:49:00.000-07:00

So to whoever decided to spray paint "Fuck You Nigger" in large letters across the front of my parents' house, you're not scaring anyone. To whoever wrote "I love tacos" and some shit about "chipotle," Colombians don't eat tacos or chipotle. You don't scare me. You don't scare my dad. You don't scare my brother. If anything, you only slightly concern my mother, but for that you should be ashamed.

Everything you thought you did, you didn't do. Everything you did was cowardly. If you have a problem with who my family is, take it up with one of us, face-to-face. Don't lurk in the shadows, in the early morning hours, to send your message. Real men don't do that.

Don't think we've never heard that kind of speech before. Don't think I've never been called "beaner" or "spic" or "wetback." Don't think I haven't been told I was a "nigger lover." Don't think I don't know the type of person you are. I have people like you ground up and served in my "chipotle tacos." You're fodder.

A guy can't get his hair cornrowed and listen to hip-hop music anymore. I guess you can't relate to the black community. You just can't be who you are anymore. Perhaps never could...

For those of you just tuning in, someone spray painted some racist terms on the front of my parents' and vehicles home a morning ago. They also attempted to destroy my brother's car. It was such an event, the press showed up. Neighbors came to the door, crying, offering white paint to cover up the crime. The local police and detectives are now searching for the subhumans who did this.

I suggest looking under the nearest rock in the local swamp.

The Single Most Important YouTube Clip This Week

2007-09-26T21:06:00.000-07:00

So we finished the entire Sopranos series and to celebrate that fact, I'm going to share an amusing compilation of my favorite Sopranos character, Peter Paul Gualtieri, also known as Paulie Walnuts.

Heh. He-heh.

McAfee - A disgrace to the Irish name.

2007-09-26T20:40:00.000-07:00

I hate McAfee anti-virus. It may force me to reinstall XP.

To Everyone: Don't use their products.

To McAfee: Shove it up your e-ass.

Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?

2007-09-25T14:36:00.000-07:00

No.

The area that surrounds my place of business can sometimes be frequented by transients. In my estimation, it is due to the proximity of Union Station, which as you can imagine, is a hub for transportation. One can ride the rails, the subway, or buses with relative ease, so naturally you’ll find all sorts of people around, including the poor and unfortunate.

Before I begin telling my story, let it be known that I’m a huge proponent for solving homelessness. The idea that someone is without shelter is very sad to me and I feel we fail as a species, for allowing it to happen. War veterans are out on the streets as well as children. It’s shameful that in a country where one can buy a 60lb. sundae or a 12lb. pizza, one can also starve. My feelings about homeless people being established in a public manner, let’s proceed.

Union Station is a great place to get a cup of coffee and a bagel. Since my coffee embargo of 2004, I’m reluctant to indulge in a cup of Joe. Tea for me. So each morning, I travel to Union Station to fuel up and this morning was not different. On my way over, I’m asked for change by a person without means at least once a week. In recent weeks, it has been the same unlucky person a couple of times of week; the same person I gave five dollars to a month ago. The same person I’ve not given money to since.

“Can you spare some change?”

“Sorry.”

A week later:

“Can you spare some change?”

“Sorry man, I can’t.”

A week after that:

“Spare some change?”

“No can do, sorry.”

Another week passes:

“Can you possibly spare some money?”

“Sorry.”

That’s been the exchange until this morning; a morning where life was going to throw me a curve.

“Can you spare me a couple of dollars, sir?”

“Sorry, I can’t.”

“Man, you NEVER have change to give!”

In a tone less than polite, more accusatory, this guy was expressing his frustration. Inside, I felt a well of anger rise up in a quick, but gentle manner, to the point where time stood still. My mind raced and contrived the following:

“Motherf*cka, YOU are the one who never has change. That’s why you’re ALWAYS askin’ for some. ALWAYS. You’d think you would have money because you have NO overhead. You have no bills. You don’t pay rent. You don’t pay income taxes. And it seems like all your meals are f*ckin’ paid for.

I went to school. I busted my ass at a federal job. I broke my ass to get to where I am now… and I don’t have money. Bills for days. I should be asking YOU for money. Do you have a couple of bucks I can have, asshole? No? You should budget better. Dickhead.”

One of Adrian’s Rules of Life is – “Never provoke someone who has nothing to lose. You’ll end up dead.” So applying that rule, I said nothing and walked away. One day, I’d like to think that we all have brass balls like that guy, but we use them in a way that could be categorized as intelligent.

For the record: I’m not ashamed or regretful that I gave the guy money in the first place. No good deed… but screw it.

Summer has Fallen

2007-09-21T16:57:00.001-07:00

This is the view from my office window (sort of... the terrace, to be specific). We're going to see the first rain in about 9 months out here and I'm happy about it. Rain it cathodic no matter how many people whine about it. Don't like rain? Move here.

The Single Most Important YouTube Clip This Week

2007-09-19T11:29:00.000-07:00

...will harm you.

First, this show is the worst on television. Second, Sherri Shepard should not be on television because she's stupid. Third, Elizabeth Hassleback should not be on television because she's stupid. Don't watch this show.

Anyone who doesn't consider the shape of the planet they live on, during the course of their life should be sterilized.

Your Everlasting Summer

2007-09-17T16:15:00.001-07:00

Man, I think I’m coming down with a cold. I’ve got that hazy, burning feeling behind my eyes and sinuses. Worst of all, I don’t have sick leave – it’s called “being a new employee.” My only alternative, outside of not working and not getting paid, is to show up at work for a few hours, then go home. This will result in me being compensated for the day. I’m not a fan of getting paid a full day when I don’t work one, but what can I do? Not my fault.

Emergen-C and water has been on the diet today. I ran out of the Tangerine flavor, so I’m stuck with the Strawberry. Bland Strawberry. People who have tried it know exactly what I’m talking about.

Taking the train to work has allowed me to think even more about life’s quandaries. Recently, I consider the lives of others and how they must view themselves. For instance, there was a woman on my train this morning with four children, two of which were too young to walk. The other two in grade school. And none of them in a good mood.

I relinquished my seat for one of her little ones, as I figured a little bit of comfort would go a long way for her.

A handful of questions did cross my ever-working mind: “Was she alone? A single mother? Why isn’t anyone helping her? I wonder what she thinks about her situation. Is she depressed? Does she consider herself successful in life?”

Let’s be clear: success is relative.

A man who washes cars for a living may be very content with his life and may determine himself to be a success; while a millionaire may consider himself a failure.

But how does this woman perceive herself? I wonder about that. In my supposition, I immediately feel sorrow as I explore the thought that she’s disappointed with life. The more I thought about it, the more I became depressed this morning.

Of course, the world of psychology would tell you that it wasn’t her that was disappointed in her life, but it was actually me – I was projecting my own sadness on her. Perhaps there is some truth to that.

I’m not disappointed with my life – I’ve accomplished quite a bit and there’s pride to be found in that. I’m perhaps disappointed in some choices I’ve made, over the years, which have led to mistakes. And I don’t find a whole lot of solace in thinking: “It could be worse…” What does help me is thinking about the future and what I plan to do.

The human beings greatest asset is also our greatest curse. Our ability to rationalize and experience emotion will be our ultimate downfall. We’re far too complex an animal as a result. We know what we need, but we confuse it for what we don’t. We carefully attempt a balance between our heart and our mind, to superfluously catastrophic ends. That’s life.

So I ask myself: “Am I successful?”

My answer: “I’m doing okay.”

I’ll end the melancholy by saying: I’m going to buy some Nyquil and I hope that mother of four, this morning, got to where she needed to go.

Verbal Napalm #3

2007-09-14T15:24:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while since I actually wrote something rather than post a funny video from YouTube. Writing time has evaded me since I started the new gig at First5LA and recently, I’ve found myself to be too busy and thusly, too tired to do much outside of watch the Sopranos and kill things on the internets. As of this very moment (9/14 2:40PM), I’m beat. I did have a great lunch with my girlfriend, and of course, my heart wishes I had went home with her instead of returning to the office. Awww. I know.

My girlfriend will rent me out for $300 an hour, ladies. I’m worth almost every penny. Ask her.

Now that I can’t rely on YouTube for this entry, what shall we discuss? Politics, especially recent political stories, will cause sadness and anger. I don’t feel like talking about movies right now, either, as all I’ve been watching is that HBO show about New Jersey mafia peoples. There’s nothing worth talking about in the world of music, because current music is like a number two pencil in the ear. Television blows.

Sportswise, the New England Patriots got into trouble for cheating – they were using a videocamera to spy on the other team’s locker room during shower time. $500,000 fine to the “head” coach and they can’t pick from the draft next year or something. Idiots.

I’m geekily awaiting the arrival of some videogames in the next few weeks. One of which has been in the works for eight years or so. Goddamn is right.

Apple decided to release a new version of the iPod, making my version as important as used staple. I also came to the realization that video on my iPod is f*cking pointless. My arms get tired from holding the thing close enough for me to see it… or my neck gets sore from leaning forward. The new iPod has a touch screen, which means you can buy a protective cover for it… Apple is officially a stupid company to me. Stupids.

I think I’m going to make this entry all about rants. Here we go…

[Jerry Seinfeld intro] Children of celebrities. Whhhooo arreee these people? Why do we care? Jerry Seinfeld isn’t that funny, so forgive that last part. But let’s talk about Dannilynn, that little girl that Anna Nicole gave birth to before Anna Nicole took the pharmaceutical bus to Neverland. This child recently had a birthday for her first year alive, that was more elaborate and “happening” than any birthday I’ve ever had. And her birthday was treated, by the entertainment media, as a real event.

What a bunch of unfiltered bull*hit.

First, who is she? She’s the embattled daughter of a drug abusing nitwit blonde. Look, I’m not saying Anna Nicole was a bad person. I’m just saying she’s not a pillar of society. And her child… has no business being in the limelight.

Second, why is a one-year-old experiencing a huge party? Why? She’s not going to remember it. Her mind hasn’t grown enough for her to comprehend not sh*tting herself, let alone what a gift means. Or what a party is. Or what an open bar is. She’s done NOTHING in her life to DESERVE a huge party. Nothing. The entire event was a crime against society. A selfish crime for which the only punishment is beating with yard sticks and frying pans.

I don’t understand why parents throw these expensive shindigs for young children who have no idea what is going on. Well, I do understand. They throw the parties for themselves. Stupid ass parents with too much money and very little understanding of the world around them… procreating.

Why not spend that money and time on someone who has done something for society. Not someone who fills up a diaper (yes, I mean you Jerry Lewis!).

Since we’re discussing celebrities, this whole Kanye West vs. 50 Cent album selling war is about as interesting as a bowel movement. It’s all marketing. Here’s the story, their albums came out on the same day (as if that wasn’t planned) and 50 Cent (Hack #1) said that if Kanye West (Hack #2) outsells him, he’s going to retire (as if that wasn’t planned either). Who cares?! We’re just going to on the internets and download their sh*tty albums on a Torrent site or eMule or something illegal.

Let me give both marketing teams some advice – come up with a promotion that means something. Here’s how you do it: Kanye West and 50 Cent are going to release both hacky albums on the same day. Whoever is outsold, kills themselves. Now we’re talking about fan participation. If I knew that either Kanye West or 50 Cent were going to shoot themselves if they didn’t sell any records, I may buy an album.

I’d call it DeathDuel 2007!

Speaking of death, that Britney Spears is one hell of a whack job. I dance better than she does after a weekend gin and Windex bender. People accused her of being fat. I didn’t think she was fat. She’s not fat at all. She’s just a mess.

Since I’m giving advice to marketing idiots and publicists, here’s my advice to the stressed publicist for Britney Spears: hold a press conference and announce Britney is mentally ill. Or possibly, mentally retarded. Say goodbye to all the judgmental celebrity magazines and television shows critiquing her parenting skills and looks. NO ONE… and I mean NO ONE… can make fun of the retarded. NO ONE. It’s mean.

Stephon Marbury of the New York Knicks is retarded and no one makes fun him. It’s not nice. That retard can play some basketball, man.

I’d put together some funny pictures with hilarious captions but I’ve been writing for 10 minutes and I’m exhausted.

My parents are going to adopt a friend of mine and his wife because his parents are turning out to be bad Jews.

Speaking of which, Jerry Lewis hasn’t been funny in about 40 years. His telethon is amusing, only because the kids he’s helping have more talent than he does. What a ignoble, train wreck that guy is.

Kathy Griffin apparently offended Christians the other day when she mocked the acceptance speeches where award winners thank Jesus. She told Jesus to “suck it.” Now the Catholic League has their rosaries wedged up their sanctimonious asses. Anything to forget the fact you had priests raping children and that you had to pay out several hundred million to make that disappear I guess.

Catholics and Christians… get over yourselves. Jesus wasn’t offended. He told me so after he promised me that he’d kill Kanye West. Jesus Ortega is a great guy. Whips up the best goddamn carne asada burrito you’ve ever had. Goddamn.

And O.J. Simpson apparently held up some guy for sports memorabilia. There’s no real effective response to that… so I’m going to wish it was 5 o’clock.

In Response

2007-09-13T06:43:00.001-07:00

The Single Most Important YouTube Clip This Week

2007-09-12T16:27:00.001-07:00

She's HOT!

Only My Brother Will Understand

2007-09-11T14:22:00.001-07:00

...maybe others will.

Revin' up your engine... Listen to her howlin' roar...

2007-09-02T17:48:00.000-07:00

Highway to the Danger Zone...

The Picture Show

2007-08-29T09:51:00.001-07:00

An element of the small and big screens that I find unappealing is the incessant hype that is produced by production companies for their products. It builds to a crescendo within the consumer realm to the point where I automatically put up a defensive wall to it all. You’ve all seen it before – the endless commercials, newspaper articles, and perhaps even merchandise – and it’s a shadowy beast with evil yellow eyes. Like Medusa, it’s best not peered upon directly. The Sopranos and 300 benefited from the marketing beast.

Frank Miller, who I think is a very talented filmmaker, perhaps in the top five contemporary filmmakers, recently put together the film 300. Forgoing Three Hundred as a title, this simply titled film depicts the defense of Sparta, back in the day, by only 300 Spartans. Defense from what? A whole lot of Persians… by a lot, I mean hundreds of thousands, apparently. The title, 300, is simple because the film, itself, was made for the simple.

Gay men, rejoice!

The film had some really poor plot points with overly predictable outcomes. Before I continue, let me say that I can’t stand popular action films. Why? At risk of being called arrogant, I’m just too smart. When a hero, who is living in the real world, drives a taxi cab into a toll booth to launch it at a helicopter, I feel insulted. And I end up developing an unhealthy disdain for the film. When a feeble character is denied glory by a stronger character, of course the feeble character is going to turn on the stronger character. There’s no thought involved, and that’s where 300 fails miserably.

When this film was released in the theaters, all the macho males went ballistic. “It kicked so much ass!” “It’s awesome!” “SPARTA!!!!” In light of the homoerotic cries of joy from other men, I quietly awaited its release on DVD, and was grateful for the Blu-Ray disc that appeared in my mailbox thanks to Netflix. My opinion belated. The movie wasn’t what others claimed – it wasn’t that good.

Gratuitous violence and blood, which bored me. Gratuitous female nudity, which I enjoyed. Gratuitous male nudity, which wasn’t enough to get my girlfriend to watch.

The music, in most cases was annoyingly anachronistic and the overall story inconsistent with history.

What concerned me was the potential for the anti-Muslim community to use this film as inspiration. You know there are people who saw this film and said: “HELL YEAH! See?! We can beat those people! Hoorah!”

With a poorly developed story and even worse dialog, the film has some positive aspects. The most apparent being the visuals: this is one of the most beautiful films I’ve seen in a long time. The images, thanks to a lengthy development, are worthy of most art galleries. Miller did an amazing job capturing moments of beauty and death though the camera. Here are three examples:

In American cinema, there’s no other film that looks like 300. For that reason, you should watch it, but only if you have an HDTV and a Blu-Ray player. It’s an astounding looking film. It’s the super model of films – looks amazing… that’s all.

Overall: 6/10

The Sopranos recently presented me with another reminder that time passes by quickly. This popular HBO series which follows the life of fictional New Jersey crime-boss, Tony Soprano, originally aired in 1999. It recently completed it’s final season, being its sixth. Up to about a month ago, I watched only 10 minutes of The Sopranos, due to my aversion to the hype monster. Water cooler discussions and even Howard Stern mentions weren’t enough to get me interested. But that changed…

I’m three episodes into the fifth season now and very happy to say that the series lives up to the hype. With a handful of episodes being throwaways, the series is very strong, held together by good writing and even better acting. The latter being the most impressive recently, to the point where I’d like to declare the Season 4 finale to represent the best acting I have ever seen on television.

Collection of fine acting.

Edie Falco’s performance, in particular, I found very moving. At this point in her character’s development, she’s at the end of her wit with her husband (Tony) and his absence in their marriage. James Gandolfini’s (Tony) performance was just a tier below Falco’s, both winning an Emmy for their work. This episode is the best in the series and the best I’ve ever seen on T.V. By the end, I was so worn out by the episode, I had to go to bed.

Finally, a dramatic series that knows how to use music… just watch "Mr. Ruggerio's Neighborhood,” which is the first episode of season three.

I’m very pleased with my discovery of the Sopranos and even more content with the fact that the series, thus far, lives up to the hype. David Chase, in spite of all the drama surrounding his choice of how to end the series, does a wonderful job of bringing these dysfunctional characters to life. He doesn’t try to recycle The Godfather or Goodfellas, but provides a fresh look at an American legacy of mobster stories. I know I will be saddened to see it end in 26 episodes…

If you haven’t watched The Sopranos, do yourself a favor and rent the first season from Blockbuster or Netflix. Go in with no expectations and you will find yourself in awe of excellent writing and even better dramatic performance.

David Chase should be writing the movie right now.

It's A Quiet Day Out In The Grass...

2007-08-24T09:39:00.000-07:00

...just chillin' on my elephant.

Back in September, 2002.

2007-08-21T15:14:00.000-07:00

We were sold a bill of goods.

I didn't buy them.

I wish we all refused the sale.

"...like 12, 13 dimes... like 2, 3 assists..."

2007-08-17T16:51:00.000-07:00

It's one thing to not care about an interview with the local affiliate, it's another thing to smoke three spliffs and drink a bottle of Alize' beforehand.

He’s not my King

2007-08-17T14:39:00.000-07:00

Back on August 16th, 1977 I was six months old and in Maine, I believe. My parents will have to clarify this, but that’s my recollection. Of course, I was too busy filling up my diapers and figuring out how my immediate surrounds worked to understand that a music icon had died, fat, on a toilet, thanks to an overdose. It could be possible, we both, were filling up each other’s diapers at the same time, but I can’t present evidence to support this claim. The fat man was none other than Elvis Presley.

Not fat. Or phat.

Elvis doesn’t need an introduction because he’s known throughout the world. He was a trailblazer when it came to rock and roll, cutting through music’s dense foliage to bring a “new” genre to the mainstream. I used quotation marks with the word new, because his music wasn’t new. Black performers had been singing those songs years before Elvis had come around. Their skin was their sin in a time of unadulterated racism in the United States. Elvis brought their work to light and did so with tremendous flare.

You can’t argue with his success. His sound wasn’t his, but his showmanship certainly was. A true music phenomenon and revered by millions. But I think, 90% of that reverence is superficial hype. Elvis wasn’t that good. He wasn’t that talented. And he isn’t the King of Rock and Roll. I will explain why.

Elvis was a good looking man, before deep fried Twinkies and pain killers caught up with him. Women loved him. In our shallow society, aesthetics often outweigh quality of character and action. Because Elvis was so handsome, it gave women the ability to overlook Elvis’ lack of musical talent.

Elvis had a decent voice.

Okay, now fat. Still not phat.

But, Elvis didn’t write his own music. That’s a mortal sin in the world of rock and roll. Singing, for singing’s sake is not enough and it surely doesn’t warrant a title of King. If you spend time listening to music and studying the English language, you’re going to find some very impressive song writers, such as John Lennon or Bob Dylan. There’s where the gold can be found. Elvis doesn’t stack up.

Another issue I have with Elvis is the fact he essentially wore a guitar, as opposed to play a guitar. He started the sickening trend of singers wearing guitars for the look. Bruce Springsteen does the same thing. It’s an insult to real guitarists out there, it truly is. It’s like some fat ass wearing a Michael Jordan jersey.

“Do you play basketball?”

“No.”

“Take the jersey off.”

Aside from not writing his own music and pretending to play the guitar, Elvis committed the ultimate infraction – he went pop. Elvis only performed rock music for two years, then he jumped record labels to make music that would sell records. It’s wasn’t rock and roll. It was bubble gum. Rock and roll is not bubble gum. It’s whiskey.

I will give him one thing – he died like a rock and roller… on drugs. And he was very weird… very weird. He had carpet installed on the ceilings of his house; he shot his television; he dated a 14-year-old girl when he was twice her age; and he rubbed his mom’s back fat.

How can someone who didn’t write his own music, didn’t play the instrument he carried around very well, and made pop music be the King of Rock and Roll?

Superman II's Ending - Remixed

2007-08-17T11:22:00.000-07:00

Depending on how closely you pay attention to film and comic books and other stuff that will secure your virginity as an adolescent, you may not know about the various re-edits that Superman II has received. There's an official rerelease of the film known as "Richard Donner Cut" where some guy named Richard Donner reworked the film.

I'm not a huge Superman fan, nor do I pay attention to comic books or their movies. And, I have no idea who the hell Richard Donner is. I may not care, but I had to write this so that my latest blog entry isn't just a video clip and nothing else. Only blog-hacks do that sort of thing.

So here is someone's attempt at recutting the ending of Superman II... where Lois Lane figures out who Superman really is... or who Clark Kent really is... or who Dick Cheney wishes he was, but never will be... I don't know.

Dead girlfriends tell no tales… Dead girlfriends tell no tales… Dead girlfriends tell no tales… Dead girlfriends tell no tales… Dead girlfriends tell no tales… Dead girlfriends tell no tales…Dead girlfriends tell no tales… Dead girlfriends tell no tales…

Let this be a lesson to you ladies. If you find out your man is a superhero, do not immediately go flying around with them. You may wind up doing a belly flop right into a dirt nap in Manhattan.

Karl Rove is Taking a Powder

2007-08-13T12:51:00.000-07:00

Who is he?

Karl Christian Rove (born December 25, 1950) is Deputy Chief of Staff to President George W. Bush until the end of August 2007. He has headed the Office of Political Affairs, the Office of Public Liaison, and the White House Office of Strategic Initiatives. For most of his career prior to his employment at the White House, Rove was a political consultant almost exclusively for Republican candidates.

...and he managed to make politics even dirtier than it is. Imagine being able to make feces even more malodorous; talk about a marketable skill. He's gone now... and his stench will remain.

Here he is "dancing" and "rapping" at the The Radio and Television Correspondents Association dinner.

I find the lyrics interesing -

That's right.
He can't be beat.
Because he's so white
from his head to his feet.

I suppose I can be beat because I'm only half white, from my head to my belt line. The lower half of me is black... FYI.

David Letterman weighs in:

Axiomatic

2007-08-07T09:51:00.000-07:00

Rock journalism is people who can't write interviewing people who can't talk for people who can't read.

-Frank Zappa

Shark Attacks

2007-08-02T13:44:00.000-07:00

This entry is going to focus on a favorite of mine - I'm a big basketball fan and I have been for quite some time (17 years for trivia's sake - you never know when someone is going to propose: "I bet you don't know how many years Adrian Segura has loved basketball!" You could win money.) and have had favorite players. The very first being Dominique Wilkins and his team, at the time, was my favorite: The Atlanta Hawks. After Pete Babcock, in his infinite ignorance, traded 'Nique to the Clippers for Danny "I don't have knees anymore" Manning, my love for a particular team faded like Manning's career.

I remember being mere feet away from Dominique Wilkins, looking for an autograph, and being heartbroken when he walked right by with the rest of his Hawk teammates at the Sports Arena.

If 'Nique is reading this, I ain't mad.

Dominique Wilkins still ranks very high on my list of favorite players - in fact I think he was the best small forward in the history of the game. He was that good - the NBA didn't know any better. Yes, I think he's better than Larry Bird... get over it.

When 'Nique retired many years ago, I wasn't interested in a player that I could follow as a fan. I did have a great respect for Mookie Blaylock's game; I spent months mastering his underhanded scoop passing and defensive stances as a high schooler. But I couldn't find a player that would inspire feelings of awe, in me, like 'Nique. The guy was a monster.

The NBA was boring...

But then enter a kid who grew up and played a mere 10 miles from my home town... enter Gilbert Arenas. His talent on the court is stellar - he's the headliner on the Washington Wizards - a deadly player, perhaps the fastest in the NBA. But beyond his on-court abilities, what I admire is his off-court persona. He's gives away jerseys and shoes that he, himself, buys... to give away. Areanas holds himself as the "People's Champ," and it fits.

So I was reviewing Arenas' blog to read something very amusing:

There Are No Such Thing as Shark Attacks

I know this is random, but I just want to clear this up for people out there.

There are these things called shark attacks, but there is no such thing as a shark attack. I have never seen a real shark attack. I know you’re making a weird face as you’re reading this.
OK people, a shark attack is not what we see on TV and what people portray it as.

We’re humans. We live on land.

Sharks live in water.

So if you’re swimming in the water and a shark bites you, that’s called trespassing. That is called trespassing. That is not a shark attack.
A shark attack is if you’re chilling at home, sitting on your couch, and a shark comes
in and bites you; now that’s a shark attack. Now, if you’re chilling in the water, that is called invasion of space.
So I have never heard of a shark attack.

When I see on the news where it’s like, “There have been 10 shark attacks,” I’m like, “Hey, for real?! They’re just running around? Sharks are walking now, huh! We live on the land, we don’t live underwater.”

What's in a Name?

2007-08-01T15:55:00.000-07:00

It appears I paid some dues as my nameplate found my office...

Choo-choo.

2007-07-24T08:53:00.000-07:00

So I am writing this entry from the comfort of the Metropolitan Water District's patio. These words are not being transcribed via laptop, but through the means of my MotoQ. Rather slowly might I add.

I did intend on publishing over the weekend, but I got busy and not in a Burger King bathroom. My car needed a new battery, so I DIY'd it - it was a challenge given a BMW's intricate design and the fact it was 95 degrees in the shade on Saturday.

Sunday was spent blowing things up with my buddy in Ohio and running errands. I am trying hard not to be a boring adult.

Today was my second return to the gym. My conditioning and jump shot are horrible. More to add to the list of things that keep me challenged. Perhaps I need to encounter more homeless ladies who need help. At any rate, the weight loss mission begins...

I have been getting lots of smiles on the train. Calvin Klein suits are magically delicious or sexy or something.

Something I'm Proud Of...

2007-07-18T18:17:00.000-07:00

...not so much the act, but the fact that I didn't hesitate to do it.

So it's warm outside and humid; the typical summer day in Los Angeles. I'm usually sweating at around 7AM, right out of the shower, and that's average. There are days that eclipse that experience, where I'm very grateful for central air. Today was a more of an average uncomfortable day, weather wise. I was sweating on my walk home. Imagine all that weather, while being in a charcoal Jones NY wool suit... yep.

My walk home is about a mile or so and it's tolerable with my super comfortable Rockport dress shoes - hey, they ain't your grandad's Rockports - these are good looking and awesome for the feel. With my iPod going, the hot weather melts itself away. Today was a little different.

A quarter of the trip in, I encountered my new commute buddy - Suzie. I met her yesterday at the local bus stop. Based on her business wear, I of course asked if she worked downtown. She did. I asked where. She mentioned a Japanese subsidiary bank. I asked "Is it Manufacturer's Bank?"

"Yeeeeeees?"

"Do you know, Ed James?"

She began to laugh hysterically.

Ed James is a buddy of mine that I met at the gym about three years ago. We've played countless games of basketball and socialized outside the gym. I had lunch with Mr. James last Friday. He's Suzie's boss' boss. Small world. She's also my neighbor.

Anyway, I encountered her on the way home today - she's a fast walker. We spoke about our days - she has a challenging position at the bank. I can appreciate that. A few moments later, we came across an elderly woman... clearly homeless... in a wheel chair. She was beckoning for our help.

"Can you push me across the street?"

"Sure."

Suzie offers to take my brief case/bag and we're off.

"I just got out of the hospital. Someone pushed me out and I landed on my head."

"Wow, that's terrible. Why would someone do that?"

"I don't know," the woman lamented. "I was hit by a bus."

That's a rather profound statement considering. Of course Suzie and I were shocked.

"What?" I asked.

"Yes, on Avenue 26 and Figueroa. I went out to cross the street and the bus hit me. They thought I did it on purpose."

"Who gets hit by buses on purpose?"

"Not me! They gave me five thousand dollars for it?"

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"Getting hit by a bus is not as profitable as it once was. The times have changed."

She laughed and continued, "Arnold took ten thousand of what they gave me."

"That's a Republican for you." Even in such a discussion, Republicans are unsafe. I take no prisoners.

We've traveled three blocks at that point and I'm drenched in sweat. It's not that she's obese or anything, it's just that her entire life was on that wheelchair. She must have been in the lead weight business, the poor thing.

"The bus hit me and the driver didn't know. It dragged me for half a block."

"Did the driver charge you bus fare?"

"No," she laughed.

"Free ride."

She laughed again. She then continued to explain how life has treated her harshly. It's amazing what happens to people and what people let happen to them. It's very sad, actually, that that kind of thing is allowed to happen. I have a theory - if everyone helped one person, every day, there would be less human tragedy.

Near the end of our journey, the sidewalk narrows to where a wheelchair cannot pass, so we took to the streets. We even had to face down a bus, which I thought was poetic. A mile and half later, it was time to part ways with Terry. She was grateful for the help, thanked me, smiled, and Suzie and I walked back home.

My dress shirt is drenched; my undershirt is a wet rag; my feet hurt. But none of that matters.

The First All-Political Paradox Ink Blog Entry

2007-07-15T16:54:00.001-07:00

The war in Iraq continues to present our nation with a myriad of questions, concerns, and looming problems. Beyond those very simple and general issues, the war very expensive and the war is killing people. What’s graver than all that is, this particular war as no particular end. And what is graver than that is, this particular presidential administration has no particular (one that is obvious) interest in ending the war. That’s scary.

What I believe we’re seeing now, is an attempt to save face on the part of the Bush administration. Let’s review – these folks pushed this war under pretenses we now know were false. Iraq was believed to be a threat to the U.S., as the nation was a playground for terrorists and weapons of mass destruction appeared to be growing on palm trees there. The world was presented with “undeniable evidence” that this was the case. And, through the propaganda machine in the U.S., the citizenry was led down a foot path, with a trail head sign that read: “Al-Qaeda and Iraq… they are connected!”

As time went on and as the world watched the war with eyes rolling, we all discovered that Iraq was a weak country, shaken to its foundations by the previous war and by sanctions. There was no “yellow cake” or mobile biological weapons trucks. A great portion of the country didn’t have toilets that worked, let alone the ability to manufacture nuclear weapons. Iraq had a defense program brain drain years before… and there were no Al-Qaeda ties. Nothing. Canada posed a greater threat to national security than Iraq.

Saddam was found hiding in a hole. Hitler shot himself in the head. There’s a clear difference between an ex-CIA lapdog and a true threat to the world. Big difference.

History lesson behind us, the current leadership is pushing for patience regarding the war. “It’s done when it’s done,” is the overall message and I find that ultimately arrogant. It’s screams elitism – the administration does not do the fighting and they don’t suffer by existing in a war torn land. They get to go home every night and wear suits during the day. The scene is just like Vietnam… rich law makers sending poor Americans off to die for a purpose that had lost definition years ago.

What this administration does not want to be, and is why we’re waiting to see an end to the war, is the leadership that put the U.S. in a pointless war AND left a third world nation to rot in civil war hell. No one wants a double…

This is a "Whammy."

No one who has authority wants to be a two time loser. That’s why I think this president sings overtures of “Wait… give it a chance!” at every turn. He’s trying to avoid the “Worst President In History” title at every turn, no matter what the cost. That’s my opinion.

The other angle in this whole never ending conflict is also political – this administration is setting up the GOP for the Presidential showdown. The Democrats, despite their buffoonery, should be able to capitalize on the Republicans ineptitude the past several years. Never in my life, have I seen a group of people have so much control and do absolutely nothing with it – the Republicans are a collection of thumbwiddling, money-spending, mongoloids not soon to be forgotten by history books.

Morons, which is why they need a set-up man in George W. Bush. Let’s look 500 days into the future, as the presidential election hangs heavy in the air like the stench that surrounds a meat rending facility. Both sides are defecating on the floor and picking up their creations to throw at the other side. Republicans will be smelling their work, perhaps eating it (just a little sample), then remembering to throw it. It’s a mess from a chimpanzee enclosure at the local zoo – it’s our political process.

So the GOP, with the war in Iraq still churning about and announcements of how many Al-Qaeda were killed this week, exclaims: “Look America, we’ve been aggressive in fighting Al-Qaeda, and they are still around! They’re in Iraq! We scored 20 points on them this week! We’re tough against them. You need us or else… you’ll get a soft Democrat in office who won’t keep fighting them.” I think this is already afoot:

“WASHINGTON (AP) - U.S. intelligence analysts have concluded al-Qaida has rebuilt its operating capability to a level not seen since just before the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, The Associated Press has learned. The conclusion suggests that the group that launched the most devastating terror attack on the United States has been able to regroup along the Afghan-Pakistani border despite nearly six years of bombings, war and other tactics aimed at crippling it..” - AP Story via AOL.

Don’t be fooled by Bush’s recent denial of this story’s truth. It’s going to be used against you in an all out propaganda assault in a few months. Republicans are the fighters and Democrats are the hippies. You’re safer with fighters. That’s always been their claim and they have yet to be right.

Iraq is my generation’s Vietnam? I’m not completely sold on that statement, but Iraq is a mess. It’s an expensive, deadly, and unfair mess. A mess our government made many years ago, back when Transformers were cool the first time. It may very well be more than a mess now… it may be a crime.

You Gotta Spend Money to...

2007-07-15T16:02:00.000-07:00

...get stuff, like more money. Recently, I've been buying items that are directly related to work, most of which could be classified as attempts to update the old wardrobe. I was spoiled by working in a place where the dress code didn't represent a major priority across the organization. Jeans and a button up shirt was my typical garb back then, but these days require a little more formality. Which means... spend!

Good clothes tend to be very expensive, which is fine, I suppose. What isn't fine is the euphoria that comes after buying nice clothes - you want to buy more. "Hey, look... that Calvin Klein shirt is on sale! Look at those pants too... damn... it's for work... oh okay, let's get 'em." My consolation is that they are truly for work, which is a small consolation.

On top of the clothes, there's the toiletries that come with it. I stopped using hair gel and went with a more cultured series of hair care products (I'm not gay... I know what you're thinking. I've checked this with real gay men and I'm still straight.) in American Crew. I've got their Fiber molding stuff, as well as their shampoo and conditioner. That stuff ain't cheap, my friends, but the results are worth the cost. My hair looks a little more natural, as opposed to the action figure hair I had before.

From my understanding, American Crew isn't even made in "America." It's an English product. I suppose they felt it would be hard to market a product in the often stupidly patriotic country that is the United States, if it said "English Crew." "Afghani Crew" wouldn't work either. And I'd think "Shi'ite Crew" wouldn't inspire anyone to put what you sold, in their hair... or even bother smelling your product.

I kid. I have nothing against the Afghans or the Shi'ia... they are good people.

Beyond the American Crew stuff, there's the exclusive men's line of shaving and face care products that Nutrogena makes. Very good stuff, for you guys who care about how you look. Each product is about $5 a pop, so you can spend quite a bit pretty quickly, depending on your need. I bought two of everything - one set for home and the other for the gym.

That metrosexualness aside, I did buy something pretty cool and fun for work recently. It's a product from a line that has interested me for some time now. My interest will drive me to purchase at least a lithograph or maybe a desktopper for work as well. Without further text, here's my new mug:

www.despair.com

Weak Too

2007-07-13T20:34:00.000-07:00

The end of my second week at First5LA has wrapped up to positive effects. I'm very tired, but for a good reason - I really worked hard this week. But let's get to the good news. I am feeling more a part of the organization now, than I did last week. My sense of humor and personality is now allowed to shine a little bit more, so people are starting to like me. Prior to this, I felt like the new kid in school... the one that runs up to the other kids who are playing, only to see them run away.

The scope of my job has increased to the point where I couldn't tell you, with absolute confidence, what I do. If you asked me what I do, now, I'd say:

"A lot."

The team has given me a nickname, a title that I apparently had the day I interviewed - "The Kid." Michael, the ultimate Administrative Assistant, provided me the moniker. The other nickname I have is...

"Bueller"

...as given to me by Amanda, a Contracts and Legal teammate. What's funny about that nickname, is that my father compares me to Ferris Bueller as well. There's something to that, it seems, if two people have come to the same conclusion. Thankfully I'm being compared to a wisecracking, intelligent, charming character as opposed to...

Peter Lorre

This particular entry to my blog is going to be without any real organization - I'm tired.

Today was my first pay day and I ran to the nearest BofA to deposit it. I was happy with it.

Good night.

Footloose

2007-07-09T07:50:00.000-07:00

In 1984, I was a seven year old with eyes and a mind ripe for learning. At that age, experience has a deeper meaning for any child, and for me, I was begging for it. It was during that year that music became an interest. Many would argue that the 80’s was when music decided to take some sick leave having barely survived the disco era. That’s a discussion we can have at a later time, but for the sake of this tale we need to remind ourselves of what was going on during that period of time.

A certain album was still selling, steam rolling to the world record of 104 million copies. Don’t rub your eyes, that’s a 1, proceeded by a 0 and a 4. That album was produced by Quincy Jones (pre-bottom of the bottle Quincy) with a certain shy yet incredibly talented Michael Jackson (before he became Anglo-Saxon and odd). The aptly titled, “Thriller” was dominating other great albums like Duran Duran’s “Rio” and Marvin Gaye’s last album “Midnight Love.” Both Jones and Jackson created seven Billboard Top 100 hits, making the album the third ever to accomplish such a feat in record history.

He was black.

Also worth noting is that “Thriller” followed on the heels of “Off The Wall,” which was a breakthrough LP for Michael Jackson.

In a small home in a weird Los Angeles suburb known as Tujunga, I lived with my parents, who exposed me to music on a daily basis. If it wasn’t Jethro Tull or Pink Floyd from my father, it was Michael Jackson from my mom. Of course, I could be wrong about who listened to that Thriller album more between my mom and dad. My dad was an assassin on the dance floor during the disco days, so it could have been him. I heard that “Saturday Night Fever” LP more than I heard a sermon at church.

At any rate, it was all about “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’,” “Billy Jean,” “P.Y.T.,” and the title track from that monster of an album, “Thriller.”

The story goes that whenever that album would come on, I would start to dance and apparently kept incredible rhythm. I’d move around as if inspired by what I was hearing. My feet would move, hips would follow, and I somehow was a chip off the old block. There were some B-Boy/Breakdancing influence in my repertoire of moves, as memory serves.

Not really...

I now imagine how my dad would watch with infinite pride, thinking: “That’s my boy. Look at him. The ladies are going to be beating down the doors. There will be cat fights. He will rule the dance floor. Yeah… move it, son. Move! My son will crush Danny Terrio! This is fate! He was born the same year Saturday Night Fever was released! He’s so much better than John Travolta! Look!”

My mom was probably thinking: “Wow… talent. I’ve tapped into his talent and he’s so young. He’s smart and he can dance. This is incredible. We’ve got to take this to the next level!”

I could have been him.

Let me be clear that my dancing was judged by the two biggest fans I had at the time, my parents. Parents wear rose-colored blindfolds when it comes to their kids, as everyone is probably very aware. If they build something, it’s the best something ever. This is not a critique – in fact, I support that style of parenting, because life is so hard, one needs someone who will root for them even if accomplishments are mediocre.

My mother, in her keen parenting, found an activity I enjoyed (outside of recreating Star Wars battles in my room with my action figures and using the walls in my room as tapestries for my marker art) so she acted quickly and scheduled me an audition at a local dance studio. I wasn’t quite sure what a “dance studio” was or what the implications were, so there was no pressure on me. I didn’t “get it.” From what I remember, my mom told me I was going to dance somewhere and I’d be having fun.

Off we went to the dance studio – with dancing shoes that my mom bought (my memory is fuzzy, but this seems like what occurred). The idea is that I’d just show off some basic moves and earn the respect of the instructor. I’m sure it wasn’t a difficult accomplish in the eyes on my mom.

Proving grounds!

I remember pulling up to the dance studio and being prepped by my mom. It seemed early in the day and the studio was empty, except for the instructor. The instructor, who was female, conversed with my mother for a short time, which I didn’t pay much attention to. I was caught up with the fact that I had never seen an entire room made of mirrors. I took advantage of it and made faces at myself.

The instructor took me by my shoulders and told me she’d be putting on some music and that I’d be allowed to just dance… freestyle. That meant nothing to me as I had no official training, so I said “Okay,” and she walked away. Being the consummate performer, I felt no nervousness, I just laughed at the faces I was making at myself. There’s discussions about Frank Sinatra making faces to loosen up his muscles prior to a performance, so I was in good company.

Face maker.

The music was seconds away from beginning and my moment of glory was nearing. It was similar to those moments of a sunrise where the amber light turns to yellow. Time to shine… the music began… here it is…

I felt the beat. It was pulsing through my veins like the very blood that was delivering life to all 60lbs of me. I went for it.

By “went for it,” I mean I sat down on the ground, flat on my butt, and span around in a circle for about 30 seconds. That’s right folks, my moment in the spotlight was sitting… and spinning… like a dog without its rear paws chasing its own tail.

“I’m breakdancing! Look! Look!”

This is not dancing.

And look they did, as bystanders would a train wreck as it happens. The instructor quickly surmised that I had the dancing talent of a tire iron and I can still hear the deafening click of the stop button on the tape player. As Danny Terrio and John Travolta felt a mysterious weight be removed from their shoulders, we were excused from the studio by a two second smirk and an empty “Thank you.”

My mom walked me to the car and we drove to buy an ice cream cone.

.....

2007-07-06T23:35:00.001-07:00

It's well past my bedtime and I'm unable to sleep. I worked 46 hours this week at the new job and I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep. Why? Sinus headache. I need a sinusectomy as soon as possible. Doctor Fine... Doctor Howard... Doctor Fine... I wonder how many people will understand that reference.

Today, at First5LA, I maneuvered through the organization training - ethics, sexual harassment, and diversity. What was cool was all the training was on-line, so I didn't have to sit in a meeting room and be told I shouldn't grope my office neighbor or tell that one funny joke I wrote about the Colombian, the German, the Irishman, and alter boy. Instead, I got to click on arrows and read through the obvious.

Let's face it, that kind of training is like a common sense remedial class. Sadly, it is necessary as there are some people who think it is just fine to hit on the secretary and stare at her chest on a daily basis (yes, you Krystal). It serves as an example of the model: one rotten such-and-such ruining the what-not.

I'd pay some good money to get to sleep right now. Anyone see that some poll suggested nearly half the nation wants to start impeachment proceedings against the President? That whole movement is so two years ago... three years ago?

With that comment, I'll be laying down now. Good night.

The Fifth of July is Co-Dependence Day!

2007-07-04T13:57:00.000-07:00

Meanwhile, Happy 4th of July for my fellow Americans (and anyone else who wants to drink and eat and drink and eat and pass out today)! Today is the day we celebrate the use of guerrilla tactics to defeat an invading imperialistic force and the victory those tactics earned! I'm not talking about the war in Iraq, I'm talking out our independence! It's a day the nation observes by not working, but goofing off and blowing stuff up - which is the way it should be!

To everyone celebrating, please be careful to throw lit fireworks at your neighbors BEFORE they explode, not after. You're bound to hurt yourself otherwise. Also consider using less than half a bottle of lighter fluid to start of the grill. Everyone thinks you're more attractive with eyebrows. And don't drink then attempt to drive the ride-able lawnmower. Grandma loves her toes.

Beyond those warnings, enjoy your day off! If you're not an American and you're reading this - GET TO WORK!

Happy 4th of July!

D-Day at First5LA

2007-07-02T19:41:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately due to a challenging day, I'm not able to fully describe my first work day for First5LA in great detail, however, here's the Cliff's Notes version:

My new supervisor is a great person with a firm understanding of what it is to be a leader. She doesn't harp on people about their time keeping, she doesn't micromanage, and she allows her employees to be professionals. She could be the best boss I've had so far.... so far.
My office area has a great view of the Union Station Plaza and I can see Dodger Stadium from my desk.
It doesn't take a week to get office supplies and it doesn't take a week to get your order for office supplies approved by your Admin. It takes a day.
It appears my medical will be paid for by the organization...
I'm being challenged out of the gate - I already have two deliverables and have been named the lead on a project. Who needs time to get acclimated?
Everyone was very kind and gracious to me... it seems everyone is personable.
The organization is much smaller than expected.... 74-80 people.
I'm sitting in on the USC fans side of the floor, which means I'm sitting on the wrong side of the floor.
The organization utilizes current computing tools like OUTLOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111... instead of Eudora like JPL. I never understood how a laboratory that produces cutting edge technology uses software circa 1999.
I still miss people at the lab.
I'm tired.

I really feel good about the career move I made... how was your day?

I Should Shave

2007-07-01T16:46:00.000-07:00

On the eve of the dawn of a new career, I'm a little on the anxious side. There's been a lot of natural and artificial build-up and I'm of the mind to just get it going already. I'm ready to roll. The shirts have been pressed, the ties chosen, and the briefcase packed. Turn the page, already!

In picking up my suits today, we were given VIP treatment by accident. The store was quasi-opened, meaning the door was ajar and the security cage kind of opened. Apparently someone had arranged a pick-up with a salesman an hour before official opening and not knowing any better, we joined in on the fun. The salesman was plenty accommodating so if you're looking for a suit, go here: 1403 N Victory Pl., Burbank, CA 91502 or call (818) 842-2568 - Ask for Art.

Tomorrow, it appears I'll be completely benefits and new employee paperwork and the remainder of the week: on-line training. I'm sure I'll be somewhat entertained by the mundane "Common Sense" instruction I'll see this week. Clearly an organization needs to have sexual harassment and safety training because there's plenty of dopey people out there that don't know you shouldn't grope a co-worker or use a blow torch next to the diesel fuel barrels. But for the smart people, this kind of legal protection process is an exercise in the "obvious."

So it goes.

What I'm hoping is that I'm given some time, right from the start, to move into my new work space. I've got Playboy posters to hang up.

Paris Hilton is Free

2007-06-28T19:09:00.000-07:00

...and yet I'm still imprisoned in any given mall or shopping center.

Spending nearly eight hours, venturing through two different Macy's, a Men's Wearhouse, a Verizon store, and a Target isn't how I'd like to spend a day off. The day was so long, even my girlfriend, Lupe, who happens to be an expert shopper, admitted enough was enough. Imagine in what shape I'm in after such a trial? I'm several dollars lighter and quite fatigued.

What was purchased? One Calvin Klein suit, one Jones New York suit, nine ties from various designers (BCBG, Calvin Klein, Kenneth Cole, and others), shoes, shirts, chonies, and a Motorola Q. There's quite a bit of random items I purchased for my new office, including a fan and all kinds of medicine cabinet items. And we're not even finished - there's still some brown shoes, brown belt, and some additional dress shirts to buy. Tomorrow will be it. I beg of you.

I'm really enjoying my new cell phone - Moto Q - and it didn't cost me half of what I thought it would. I've been struggling with a LG VX9800 and a Dell Axim PDA... two electronic bricks. Now I've been able to combine the functionality of a cell phone and PDA to be the ultimate work geek. Level 12!

Lupe was nice enough to pay for a shiatsu massage at the Sherman Oaks Fashion Center. I'm not sure if you've seen these massage kiosks at your local mall. Essentially, there are six odd looking, forward leaning chairs, that have a masseur assigned. These folks are usually Asian and eager to put their hands on you. I've avoided them in the past, but today, it was very difficult to say no this afternoon.

Sitting face down in this odd contraption of a chair, I was subject to what resembled more an assault than a massage. Elbows in my neck, middle of my back, it was an exchange that I would have started a fight over if this had happened on the basketball court. The funny part of the massage was... the spanking.

I was spanked by a grown Asian man in front of everyone in the Sherman Oaks Fashion Center. I admit it. There's some odd part of the massage where the masseur whacks you in the side, legs, and then your end part. I've never experienced that in my life and frankly I felt ashamed. Anyone else go through this?

This guy was hitting some pressure points in my back that hurt me. The middle of my back seems to be so sensitive - I've been injured there before. I'm guessing that was part of the experience? Overall, he got rid of the headache I had, but I had problems driving home... fatigue was spanking me then.

The Day After Yesterday

2007-06-27T09:11:00.001-07:00

...which is today.

Yesterday was my final day at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, where I have been employed for the past five years. The feelings of separation did not take hold until I walked my way to the West Lot and through a turnstile I could never go through again, unless I was employed or a ghost. Initially, I had been putting those feelings aside for as long as possible so that the transition from the lab to unemployed to employed by First5LA would be smooth. Mission somewhat accomplished.

I'm not really prepared to provide a complete "retrospective" or a postmortem yet, as I'm a little preoccupied. A couple of days ago, my home PC was struck hard by a trojan/malware that some 30-something, geeky, virgin, who lives in the moldy basement of his step-mother's house, that is decorated with anime and Sport Illustrated Swimsuit model posters that he pretends are all his girlfriends, hacker made. As a result, I've been up before dawn, formatting and reinstalling Windows XP... now I'm downloading and installing all the applications I'm used to using... I'm four hours into the campaign and I'd like to meet the guy who designed the "Vundo" virus, so I can kick him in his mouth.

Ranting aside, I do have a good blog post in me regarding the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. It will probably be rather verbose, funny, and maybe have some pictures. But it will be entertaining.

Speaking of pictures, this is an excellent time to share a few shots from my farewell party at the lab. I'm not going to put up images of all the people that were there because some of the ladies will be upset that they didn't approve the images prior to publication (they hate how they look in pictures) and some of the men may have outstanding warrants in other states.

The party was well attended - I'm guessing about twenty people showed up to say good-bye. Personally, I would have been happy if five people showed up, so twenty was impressive (and with all the sincerity possible, moving for me). Those people represented friendships and working relationships I worked very hard to establish in my five years of service. Those people contributed to my development as a professional, so I'm well aware of my debt to each one of them (except Govind Deshpande - he owes me lunch).

The party was MC'd by a WWII veteran and general nice guy, Robert Chandler. Bob delivered some funny lines and expressed his respect for me - "When I first met Adrian, we spoke about World War II. After our conversation, I discovered he knew more about World War II than I did. And I was in the damn war!" He spoke about my work with the youth of L.A. and how important an organization First5LA happened to be. He then did me the honor of a salute -

Usually the man salutes me with his left hand because "...that's how they do it in Japan... I think. I'm not sure what side I fought on now." It was an honor to be saluted by a man who saw war at Iwo Jima while serving in the U.S. Navy. Bob's life is a very interesting one, so if you ever run across this salty ex-sailor, ask him about his history and be prepared to be amazed. Someone should write a book and not titled it "Old Man and the Sea." That's been done already.

After Bob wrapped up his routine, Dr. Moustafa Chahine spoke to the room. He explained how I helped him and the AIRS Project navigate through what is a cumbersome information release process at JPL. For those not clear about what that means, I'll give a simple explanation - information regarding spacecraft and science produced at the lab must go through a review process to make sure the lab is not releasing "sensitive" material. Not secret stuff, but the kind of information that could help a competitor (and a terrorist, if you want to get down to detail) or simply freak the public out.

For instance, some of the missions JPL operates involve spacecraft that use plutonium for power purposes. Consider the impact that piece of information would have on a neighborhood where a spacecraft is being launched nearby. "What if it explodes? Will my baby be born with three arms?" No... but you can see where wild speculation could lead someone.

So, take it from me, there's a lot of regulations controlling information at the lab and everyone is required to follow them. Imagine the delays. Now understand that a project needs to publish information in order to generate money to support itself. NASA doesn't just throw money at its research centers, so researchers have to get their own money at times - and the only way to do that is to show what they have been working on and how cool it is. That kind of communication has to be approved by my former office. So again, imagine the delays in having to get everything reviewed and the urgency associated with "publish or perish."

"Mous" spoke to that and expressed his gratitude for my hard work in moving his project's information through. His project being the Atmospheric Infrared Sounder or AIRS, for short. Now, I've forgotten to explain who Mous is. I'll explain this in my own terms first - to me, and many others, he's a JPL legend. He's one of those guys you initially here about, over and over again from different people... and then you meet him. The only thing you want to do is listen to what he has to say.

"That's Mous to me."

This is what other people think about him -

He [Mous] was awarded the NASA Medal for Exceptional Scientific Achievements in 1969, and the NASA Outstanding Leadership Medal in 1984. In 1989, he received the William T. Pecora Award from NASA and the U.S. Department of the Interior, in 1991 he received the Jule G. Charney Award of the American Meteorological Society. In 1993 he received the Losey Atmospheric Sciences Award of the American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics (AIAA) and in 2000 he received the NASA Exceptional Achievement Medal. In 2002 he will be receiving the William Nordberg Medal in space science from the international Committee on Space Research (COSPAR). - Dr. Moustafa Chahine Bio

In case you're wondering, those awards are not just given out liberally. They are absolutely earned.

It was a tremendous honor to have such a person tell a room full of my peers, that I did good things at the lab. Tremendous. At this moment, I can't think of a more prestigious professional honor I have received. To top that honor off, Mous presented me with a physical representation of his current project mantra -

"Always Make Progress." In life, there are times where one will be struck or motivated by words. I love words. I live words everyday. When I heard these words spoken by Tom Pagano, AIRS Project Manager, at the five year anniversary of AIRS spaceflight, as he detailed Mous' use of those words for the AIRS Science Team, I was struck. The message behind those words is very deep and should speak to anyone who is goal oriented. My dad used similar words in my upbringing as well.

This will be the first item that will be placed in my new office. Thank you, Mous.

Josette Bellan, a senior research scientist (read: big leaguer) also spoke about how I aided her in the process and how I would be missed. Josette is a brilliant and sweet woman and an avid opera fan. She doesn't care too much for Carmen, by Bizet though, but that's okay. I forgive her. She has a Masters and a P.H.D. from Princeton... she wins.

Angela Smythe, who I had a wonderful relationship with, was very complimentary of me. She works as the AIRS Project secretary. Initially, I didn't know what to make of her, but after she quoted Animal House in an email, I knew we'd be fast friends. I will miss her sense of humor and her honesty. I'll miss that entire project... no one was nicer to me than the AIRS staff.

The presentation portion of the event wound down as people came and went. I got to shake hands and give hugs to people I'll undoubtedly miss. I got to express myself "I won't miss the job, but I will miss the people," and managed to get my Section Manager to cringe in horror. But most importantly, I got to see the results of all my hard work. Those results are not in your paycheck, nor do they hang on your walls, they appear in front of you and say thank you. That's success.

Which brings me to my final picture. After a great lunch with Tom (and Antonio) Pagano, Ed Olsen, and Angela of AIRS the Monday after my farewell party, they presented me with this (click image to see full size):

A very generous gesture from a very classy group of people. Thank you again, AIRS.

Thank you Krystal, Kathy, Adria, Matt, Mous, Angela, Susan, Susanne, Mickey, Dave, Susan H., Barbara, Kay, Lora, Mary Sue, Donna, Thomas, Tom P., Nelson, Mary Y., Michael G., Mary Beth, Karen, Govind, Bill, Petra, Sarath, Sumith, Jason K., Venkat, John C., Paul, Witold, Tibor, and everyone else I've had the chance to work with.... and if I forgot your name, you can complain via the Shoutbox or Comments below.

What's on the horizon? I've got to get my new suits tailored; buy shirts and ties and shoes and belts; and a new cell phone. A new career awaits.

Genesis

2007-06-25T09:00:00.000-07:00

“While thought exists, words are alive and literature becomes an escape, not from, but into living”

The day has come. I’ve updated my blog’s appearance and functionality to a point where I can say “Look at this crap I put together!” to all my friends and family. It reminds me of my youth, when I would sit in my room and spend two hours building something with my Legos. I would design, build, and bring something to life out of interchangeable pieces of plastic. I would then unveil my creation to my parents, who in all their kindness, hid what I’m sure were feelings of disappointment and perhaps even dismay.

“Did he say he made a fire station? How many fire stations have you seen with wings?! Has the school tested him yet?”

At any rate, welcome to Paradox Ink, a place on the internet where I’ll be delivering my thoughts, experiences (which you may find surprising depending on how well you know me), observations, and humor (sarcasm and satire abound) on a semi-regular basis. No topic is too rich or controversial and no experience too embarrassing, so that should serve as a kind admonition.

An effort of the resolute variety, will be made to keep what is written here free of pornography (did I hear a sigh of disappointment?) and profanity as I know many of you will be reading from work, school, libraries, state penitentiaries, laboratories, lavatories, white houses, flop houses, and the U.S. Congress. I remain sensitive to my readers so far as I can throw them all, but in this matter I promise to be diligent.

Points of Interest –

• I enjoy writing fiction (like the Bush Administration) and to keep fiction from non-fiction, I have a separate “blog” published – Paradox Ink: The Collections.

• Your feedback (notes, greetings, comments, et al.) is appreciated, especially from those of you I don’t have the pleasure of speaking to on a regular basis. To capture the day-to-day chit-chat, I have a “Shout Box” running on the right hand side under “Interaction.” To use the “Shout Box” is simple –

1. Type in your name in the “Name:” field

2. Type in your polite and non-abusive message in the “Message:” field

3. Then click on “Shout!” Your message will then be posted

For comments regarding a particular entry/post on my blog, please click on the “Comments” link that appears under each entry. This will take you to the comments page where you can leave your feedback and your name (Click on “Other” if you don’t have a Blogger account).

• There are a great number of interesting url’s to explore on the right hand side. They will change over time, but they will remain worth visiting.

• The Momentary Image and Audiophilia are self-explanatory, so much so I don’t know why I just wrote this.

Over time, I plan to incorporate additional functionality as I look for interesting tools, applets, and what not. At this point, I’d like to add a trimmed down music player (there are a few options out there) so that readers can also be listeners. Maybe a photo album as well, so I can broadcast my scary looks with my scary literary works… together.

That being written, please make yourself at home. Do not eat everything in the fridge, don’t put your feet on the table, make sure to leave the seat down (the ladies here will appreciate it), take your shoes off, and please interact (as needed). Thank you for visiting.

- Adrian Aléjandro Segura

Man at Work

2007-06-13T11:30:00.000-07:00

In case you were curious about the lack of posts/entries here, my mental state need not be questioned. I'm wrapping up the final touches to the html here, as well as wrapping up some additional content. I anticipate going live, Monday the 25th of June. Until then, go have fun.