Online Dating

Sucks.

Monday at Starbucks

For the last several months, I've been an employee of the US Census. As a Crew Lead, I sit each day in one location while the team members arrive and hand in their completed forms and time sheets. It's paperwork at it's bureaucratic finest. Our team chose to meet at Starbucks, which means for 5-7 hours a day, 7 days a week, for months on end, I am in a coffee shop in the middle of suburbia.

This is where the fun begins.

People say they're people watchers all the time, but I am subjected to people watching on a continuous basis. My meetings take all of 15 minutes at worst so there's plenty of down time to just look at the litany of humanity that imbibes in the dark liquid therapy of this Seattle arm of Satan.

Today, at the extended table directly in front of me, are a gaggle of housewives. The Real Housewives of Suburban DFW. They have various numbers of children each with them and they all have casual dress as their modus operandi in the clothing department. They talk, non-stop, about whatever crosses their minds. From childcare to husbands to schools to shopping to gossip. The only levity for me is that one of them is wearing an outfit that about 50% of the time has her left breast exposed. She's wearing a bra, but not a good one, so there it is in all of it's...well...exposure. I have determined that they're not real. The ROCK on her finger indicates that she probably hasn't worked in quite some time. Tan, regular gym in shape, and whatever. She's the only one who dressed for "public viewing". The rest look like they rolled in here amidst a day of errands and casual destinations.

To their left is the self-made-entrepreneur guy. He's here pretty regularly, always on the phone, and always with his laptop open. Spiked, frosted hair, he's meeting with a woman who looks uncomfortable. While he has hand sewn moccasin like shoes, designer jeans, a peach striped Gap style button down shirt, and his sunglasses pushed atop the torturous terrain of his scalp, SHE is in casual pumps, black jeans, and ??? a white denim jacket. She's around her late 40's with an unflattering hair style. Now, the dichotomy between their presence is profound, but he's in SALES mode. From what I've been able to make out, he's trying to talk her into joining his pyramid sales scheme for wireless service.

He's all smiles. She's all "please, I want to believe but you're making me feel like I'm being slimed." Across her back, for quite some time now, have been 2-3 flies. They mill around and hop to and fro, all with her quite unaware. Equally, she is not alert to the way her top has lifted and her bottoms dropped on her backside, letting us know that she has chosen a common cotton solution to her more private needs.

Over in the corner is a couple. Late 30's, tan, and very much in love. I'm not sure why they're still sitting here...unless it's an affair. At least one of them has a very large leather "satchel" type thing with them. Clothes spill out of the top of it, what look like boxer shorts. This may be the last day of a long weekend meet-up between two lovers. He's about to go. He looks calm, she looks completely enamored. Both of her hands holding one of his, her head tilted sideways, a constant small smile on her face, and a look in her eyes that is simultaneously taking him in and replaying her favorite parts of previous evenings.

Behind the cackling hens resides the lone man in his 60's. He's retired and just came in for some coffee and a chance to be out of the house. It's obvious that he's people watching, but not for some deeper content, he just hasn't picked up the paper or put a computer in front of him and he's absorbing the visual and audio stimuli that isn't provided by endless hours of MSNBC humming in the back ground, like home.

The staff here seems to not have fixed schedules. I have no idea which ones will be around when I arrive each day. One just came back from a family issue, so while she's "new" to me, she's been here quite some time apparently. Her hair is a bird's nest of haste and lack of concern. Frumpy, she wears ill fitting clothes that don't quite cling to her but don't leave anything to the imagination about the lack of care she's given to her physique over the years. She's loud and has a genuine fake smile that radiates. It reminds me of George C. Scott.

The more youthful attendees of the bean consumers needs are gathered sporadically between customers discussing a plethora of things...but most concern men and their intolerability.

Me? I had my first 4 appointments all show up early, so I have about an hour to kill. I don't dress for this, with just shoes, denim shorts, and a well worn polo style shirt as my armor against the world. I find these things around me to be a lulling comfort against the onslaught of things going through my head. The last couple of days have been full of incredible highs and some uncomfortable challenges. My ability to be able to count on things as solid has never been more tenuous, as I have a major job interview tomorrow, a week of observation to see how the woman I've been dating for the last two months contours to a conversation we had yesterday that made some significant changes to what was becoming "normal" but intruding on our ability to assess us, and the usual balance of alone time, friends, money, pet ownership, creativity, etc. Actually, I'm watching me too. My band has the week off, so no outlet of volume and angst and whatever to let the boiling settle. I'm not sure if I'll get to see the woman at all this week (dead silence since our talk yesterday). And I've got nothing but tomorrow morning to focus on and it's tough when the rest is a little fuzzy and not something you can plant my foot on and lift.

I wonder if the people around me have been able to come to the correct conclusion about me.

If this were a movie, I suspect I'd be the guy with, they think, the diabolical plan to inflict revenge upon the huddled sleeping masses. Instead, I'm just going to drink my ice water, keep my mouth shut, and let my eyes and ears act as radar around me for whatever little nuggets of truth I can find in this world.

Wish me luck.

Frisbees

Not everything in a relationship requires a response. Some things are gifts. But there are moments shared, loving words given, and little touches that aren't so much asking for it, but need more than just acceptance. If someone says "my beautiful woman" it's okay to say "my handsome man" back (if that's how you feel).

It's like a game of Frisbee. It's no good if you just throw a Frisbee to someone and they catch it and then do nothing. It's the same thing with the little details.

Now, if you're partner is catching the Frisbee and keeping it, let them know that the game is important to you. If they can't do it, they'll tell you. If it's a big deal, then maybe someone else is the answer. It could be that things like that aren't a big deal to them and so it doesn't matter if you don't give them. If you need to say it, then learn not to expect a response. But in the give and take of relationships, the good ones will say "I can do that". It may take them a while and they may suck at it for a bit (some of us are poets, some of us are text books), but be patient.

I can't emphasize enough the value of talking and establishing a way of communicating. For something like this, it's vital.

Advanced Advice for The Romantically Challenged

Are you confused by the opposite sex? Do you adore them and find them endlessly frustrating all at the same time? Have you had your heart broken? Have you wanted to give someone your love but weren't sure if they were ready? Have you had someone hand their love to you and you weren't ready? Did you smother someone with so much affection they ran? Did it happen to you? Have you ever had challenges in a relationship?

Welcome to the motherfucking club!

And the best part is...there are NO RIGHT ANSWERS!! THAT is the challenge with relationships is that you are two people who are wanting to go bump in the night and along the way get to know each other. And during that process, there has been a lifetime of expectations, bad experiences, good experiences, unfulfilled desires, baggage, and 10 tons of other nonsense that have shaped the way you two are going to interact.

Not to mention...tim...ing. There is rarely a great time to meet someone that it doesn't interfere with your plans. Or that you don't quite have your shit together enough to make the impression you wish you were making. Any number of things (dog dying, knee injury, recent break-up, diarrhea) can be a mental deterrent to wanting to give the thing a try.

But try we do. Why? I really don't know. I mean, I'm 40 now, so I'm not really interested in rearing a child of my own at this point. I mean, I wanted to...big time. And if I met someone who had a kid, say...about 6 or so...I'd be down for being a part of that. But for me, other than the preparatory act of it, procreation is out as an incentive. Let's say I've been dating some one for...oh, a month, hypothetically. I've learned enough that my 2 year rule is firm. You can do sleepovers, have sex, and even say "I love you" all you want for 2 years...but no moving in, no engagements, none of that, until the 2 year mark is in the rear view mirror. Because 2 years is about the length it takes for 2 people to really get to know each other pretty well, minimum. In that time, you're going to hear them fart uncontrollably in their sleep, grind their teeth, get upset at drivers, and really really really get upset with you about something and you are going to have that one big fight that all couples need to really have.

No, not the fight about "oh, I misunderstood you because you did something that reminded me of a guy I dated 4 years ago" fight...that's early on. And, that particular one swings both ways. It's an important one, because you do this whole "I didn't know, I f***ed up, I'm sorry" and they have a chance to keep you or drop you. If they keep you, you're not on the fence...

Or they're just crazy...but let's go with the fence.

No, 2 years is the "God bless I am so sick of you constantly taking the last roll of toilet paper and using it to embalm dead birds in the back yard. And there's not one redeeming thing inside of all of that last sentence that is a keep-able thing about you!" It's the fight where one or both of you is going to have to make some sort of concession in your life simply based upon this one simple thought:

"Is this thing I like worth keeping more than this relationship?"

Because, for one or both of you, it's going to be a big big deal. You're going to have to talk to each other more, or less, or you have to give up dark beers on the weekends, or they're going to have to find a way to not work so much because it takes away from the precious little time you have in the first place.

You will get to that point about something. Usually in the first two years.

Two things...

First, be honest. I'm a die hard romantic, sensitive, nurturer...and I can "make anything work". I used to think that. "This love is more important than ____(fill in this blank with whatever makes you tick other than your gf/bf)_________". I could assign that ideal to anything. Now, not so much. There are things that are important and things that are just quirks. Every person you ever meet is going to have a series of quirks that will haunt you to your graves. So, get over them now. If they start messing, however, with the important stuff...

I'm not done with that sentence, because this is IMPORTANT! When you finally do need to talk about the important things, do it. Talk. Because nothing hurts more than having a decision rendered upon you without any discussion before hand. You never know if the important stuff is exactly that important in the "us" vs "this" battle until the battle has begun. So, while I want to say "If they start messing with the important stuff...get going", it's not true. If they start messing with the important stuff, first find out if it's important to you, and then let them know that it's important to you and that for "this" to exist is severely in the way of "us".

Second, be brave. This is a person with whom you are wanting to share the rest of your days. If you can't bring yourself to speak to them at all, then you're a puss and you suck. It's not their fault you can't talk to them, it's yours. Notable exceptions do include if they have a horrendous temper, are violent, or cry about anything. In all three of those cases, seriously, why are you still there?? Get out. Otherwise, talk.

Mostly, just be yourself. If they get you and love you, then you're okay. If you get them and love them, you're even better. They know when you're faking and they know when you're holding back, and no matter what kind of talented actor you think you are, they just know. They may not know exactly, but it prompts questions...and questions lead to assumptions and assumptions lead to misunderstandings and misunderstandings lead to fear and fear leads to distrust and there is nothing good happening here. So be yourself and talk to your partner and be okay if you're not okay.

And that's why I have the two year rule.

The Nice Guy Blues

While there are a few of you who, from some encounters during certain times of my life, will disagree with this, I have consistently heard that I'm a "nice guy". From some females, I'm "too nice". So I've been looking into this "nice guy" mythology for some time and I have some ideas.

First of all, let's talk about why a guy may be nice and why it turns women off. As it turns out, the shitty guys usually start off very nice. Flowers, opening doors, etc...and then at some point, they turn. It may not be sudden, but it's everything from controlling to abusive to just don't care anymore. Because women have experienced this kind of thing, being the nice guy up front has their suspicions raised more, because they don't find it honest. So, as a genuine nice guy, you have that going against you. You're going to have to just sit there and hope they understand and take it all in over time. By experience, let me tell you, if they don't enjoy it in several ways, though, from the beginning...leave. Because some people's suspicions about you will never be levied by any amount of honest that you are. In fact, those women will hold on to it like a jack-in-the-box that is ready to spring open with "AH HA!" the first time they think that your "real self" has been exposed because they either didn't understand something you did or you were a jerk for once.

Secondly, and this is the secret truth I've gleaned from many a close female friend, when women are on the prowl and they're open to a physical encounter...turns out that a lot of guys who are assholes are hung. And, oddly enough, a lot of nice guys are average. This little secret was revealed to me by a rather "experienced" source and confirmed by several others since then. So...guys, you may have that working against you too.

Lastly, when you're too nice, you don't exude that bravado confidence that is the secret to garnering most women's attention. This is the fine line...the one that you can walk into a room with flair and style but still pay attention to the small details.

Nice guys, you have your work cut out for you.

Ladies, let's talk about how you might be able to tell if he's ACTUALLY nice and feel comfortable moving forward.

I'd say the one way to tell a true nice guy from the fake ones (or ones with a myriad of other issues) are the quality and quantity of his female friends that he hasn't slept with. Real nice guys get the friend zone treatment so quickly that it'll make your head spin. You can step up and let one of these guys into your life. But we're talking about GOOD female friends, not skanks. If they're whorish or brash or whatever, then he's got some dark side you're going to find out about at the wrong time.

Once you let a nice guy into your life, don't abuse it. He may not say it outright, but what he's giving to you he's hoping for some of that in return. If you like him, give him some back. Not all nice guys are romantics, but they should be gentlemen. I'm more the bravado romantic type. I treat my friends with a love and grace of queens. If you step into a stronger role in my life, you get better than that. Can't help it...I'm a poet and a musician and old school and love the theatrics of a great date or moment.

Nice guys: hone up on your sex skills.

Women: they may not be amazing right out of the gate, but tell them what you want and they will be there often.

Keep in mind that this is just a guide to understanding. It's not always true in every case. I personally like where I differ. :)

27 Jennifers

What is it about a name that you find over time that it's a repeatable event laden thing in your life? My first crush, my lost virginity, the last person I slept with before I was with my wife, the first person I spent time with after my divorce, and now the person with whom I want to spend a lot of time...all the same first name. Or a variation of it.

I was going to mention my sweetheart of a cousin, but in the midst of the rest of the reference points, it might come off weird.

I'm getting this whole philosophy of "there are no coincidences", but come on. Was it that I've been searching for this name the whole of my life? This person, maybe? I don't know. But if this isn't it...I'm putting a moratorium on this name for a long time.

Oh, it's not Jennifer, for the record.

Choose Your Attitude

A friend of mine has been a resource for a lot of information to me lately about just personal power and linking yourself into the world around you. There have been some breakthrough moments for me inside of all of this. The first one is just choosing your attitude.

I've heard it a million times, but I never put it into practice until recently. Mostly because I would say "today is going to be a great day" and then wait for the inevitable ax to fall on it. Apparently, that's not how this works.

Lately, I've been more in control of the things around me that I know I can control and less worried about the other stuff. And two days ago, I had a couple of things that happened during the day that normally would have set me off and put me in a funk. One I won't mention, but the other one is tell-able.

I had finished band rehearsal and was just needing something with some caffeine in it. There was a gas station nearby, so I went in and got a cup of DP and was heading towards The Loft to see Rock Star Karaoke. As I came around the curve on Woodall Rogers, I had to slam on my brakes. The cup went head over heels onto the floor of my car, just thrown out of the cup holder. I picked it up and put it back in the cup holder. When everything was fine, I picked up the cup to take a sip and got a handful of liquid on me and all over my pants. The cup had been broken in the flip and was leaking substantially.

I rolled down the window and dumped the contents out and then looked around. The cup holder was filled with liquid. There was a huge amount on my leg...and across parts of my pants that would scream "accident". I started to get pissed off and suddenly went "STOP"...took a breath, and laughed. "Oh well" is all that came out of my mouth besides a little more laughter. It was powerful...no tension whatsoever. I then pulled into a McDonald's, got a straw and some napkins and sucked up the liquid and cleaned things up.

By the time I got to The Loft, you couldn't see a thing on my pants. So being pissed would have done nothing, but keeping a calm demeanor let me take care of things and then I was perfectly fine.

It's taken a long time to get to the point where I can do this, but it's amazing how much it helps.

A love of music

The last years of my marriage were some of the closest I had to my father-in-law.

When I first met him, I was the 18 year old punk who was, well, f***ing his daughter. I could tell he didn't like me, but I also knew I was going to be around him a lot. I thought that me being a musician and him being a big music fan, there would be a bond. But there wasn't. What did eventually bond us was that he built his own speakers and that fascinated me.

I started picking up magazines about stereo equipment and then would ask him questions. It did bond us. And over a few years, I knew more about this stuff than the average person by a long shot. When I left the music industry, this knowledge came into play for the next 11 years of my business career.

At some point, he retired his hand made speakers for a set of Polk speakers that were "technically wonderful". As my career progressed and I had hands on daily knowledge of this stuff, I knew more about what he would really want.

And, over the years, he and I would talk about various musicians. He never spoke about why he liked something, just that he did like/love pieces.

In 2002, he wanted to replace his speakers and so I convinced him that I knew the right ones for him. I set him up with some Definitive Technology speakers...and I was right. He had them for a while and we set them up right with some additional new equipment and he was set.

Around this same time, he had some heart issues. At the same time, they discovered he had lymphoma. Over most of the next year, he was in a hospital.

During one break, when he got to go home, we went to visit.

The entire time he was in the hospital, I had offered to bring him a Wave Radio and some CDs, but he didn't want to listen to music. I couldn't understand that, but I think it was just depression. When I hit a rock bottom recently, I was listening less.

So we go to the house and you could hear the system from the driveway. I hadn't heard him crank it up in a long period of time. We walked into the house and I went to the living room.

I'm not sure if Norah Jones was supposed to be played this loud, but there she was at almost overwhelming volume. And as I turned to see Stan in his chair, I was struck.

He was sitting there with his eyes closed and tears pouring down his face. I felt like an intruder. I tried to walk back out but he opened his eyes. I would have normally expected, from him, a sense of embarrassment or something like that. But that didn't happen.

He looked at me, with even more tears starting, and said simply this:

"I forgot. I forgot how beautiful it is."

And so was he.

Musicians Who Aren't Sales People

Hey musical types. Read this book:

Tom Hopkins: How to Master the Art of Selling

The one skill musicians lack that is mandatory above all others is a good knowledge of the sales process. Some learn parts of it over time and have more success, but you really should dig into how things need to be done.

When was the last time you approached how you looked at your band from a bar owner perspective? What goods/services/benefits do you provide? Can you increase an aspect of their business? If you have a loyal crowd, will they enjoy that bar and become patrons of it when you're not there? How are you different, other than music/show, than every other joe guitar player that walks in and says "uh, I have a band, we need gig"?

If you're just starting with a band, start making connections. Get to know who the people are at venues you want to play. Find the bands they like, and meet those folks. You know the routine. But what about when you have a couple of shows under your belt, how do you want to present yourself?

When you walk in and think that all 100 people who are your FB fans are going to show up because you announce the hell out of it...you're wrong. 10 of them might.

Know this stuff. Don't over-hype, you might get the gig but you'll fall short afterwards.

So learn how to SELL. It's an important, customer needs, oriented way of looking at your business. It also teaches you how to talk to people in a vocabulary that says you have your act together. Learn the lingo of the bar world, the business side of it.

But read the book. Actually, no matter what business you're in, at some point you're selling something...be it a product or yourself or an idea. This is a great resource and once you know how to sell, you'll never be out of a job.

The Creative Process

Non-musicians ask me all the time about how I write a song. The basic questions are something along the lines of "what comes first: melody, chords, lyrics, what?"

I'm not the prolific songwriter others are and I believe some people have a definite system that works for them. I've never been so lucky. I'm all over the place. I have songs that I had the lyrics down and then slowly heard the music. There have been times where there's a great chord progression and lyrics, but the melody is slow to come. The band may jam and come up with a bunch of music and then I have to fill in the vocal part with something. I've even gone so far as to get inspired by a concept.

The Pull Tabs, my band, play a song called "1:00 Prophets" that started out with me thinking "Wouldn't it be cool to have a song that goes kind of backwards to the standard pattern instruments come in?" So many songs, that build from the beginning, have one chordal instrument playing the main change, then maybe another instrument or bass, and then the drums and then the vocals finally come in. My thought lead me to consider what would sound good if you had vocals start, then drums come in, then bass, and not even hear a guitar until the chorus.

I could hear that sound in my head in so many different ways. One night I had successfully made it away from a guy who was just chawing off my ear about EVERYTHING while I was sitting at a bar. It had been a long day and I just wanted to chill out and have a few drinks and then go back to my hotel room and crash. When he got up and went to the bathroom, the bartender came over and said, "Man, I'm sorry you got seated next to him. He just spouts off about everything."

"Anyone can be a prophet at this time of night" was what popped out of my mouth.

That phrase stuck in my head.

So a week or so later, I was in another hotel over the weekend and had some down time. I brought my guitar with me everywhere on those trips, so I decided it was time to put down some ideas for this song concept.

"I'm sitting on this barstool waiting for a sign,

A little something to help ease the trouble in my mind.

I'm trying to rest my soul with a couple of beers,

In a sip, out a sigh, and that's all he needs to hear"

I wish I could write songs like Dave Grohl or Scott Weiland. Oblique brush strokes of words that paint an emotion rather than just tell a story. But I fall into the Ben Folds and Billy Joel world of writing that is more literary than poetic. The benefit, I think, is that occasionally you can tap into the collective experience of everyone in the room. Who here HASN'T had the drunken mouth at a bar just decide to try to fix everything for you?

"The man next to me hasn't showered in days,

And his eyes are covered in a whiskey colored haze.

He asks 'What's the matter?' I say 'You know...life.'

He leans back and he says 'Let me tell you bout strife.'

'Because I've been there I've done that, man I've seen it all.

I can build you a ladder, over any kind of wall.'

But I can tell from here he's nothing but talk.

Besides everyone's a prophet when it's one o'clock."

Something about that time between when you should have gone home and when you're going to have to go home because the bar is now closed...it's a magical time. Usually filled with decisions you wouldn't normally involve yourself, but there's a 2 hour safety net. I say 2 hours, because NOTHING good happens after 2 a.m.

"He says that he's got all the world's answers,

4 Wives with 3 girls, only 2 give lap dances.

He swears that he's got such a way with the ladies,

and they ALWAYS give it up in his '86 Mercedes

Because he's been there he's done that, man he's seen it all.

He can build you a ladder, over any kind of wall.

But I can tell from here he's nothing but talk.

Besides, everyone's a prophet when it's one o'clock"

The bridge. Pop songs need them, usually, just to break up the A/B/A/B monotony of most pop songs. You need a "C" section. Someone once said that the bridge of a song is the hardest part to write because it's almost a mini song within the bigger song that could stand on it's own. Different chords, sometimes a different key, new melody, etc. But you also have to thematically tie it in to the song. I didn't have a bridge for this song for a long time. One day, playing with the band, we came up with a chord progression that just built nothing but tension towards a resolution. The vocals came easy after that, but for a song that is so emphatically in the key of E, to have a rising series of B, C, D, D#...it just SCREAMS for you to play E next. We don't. In fact, for the bridge, we hit the D# and then it's a huge drum break and finally our bass player comes in with relief in E, but a whole new groove.

"He stumbles off his stool and says he'll be right back,

He's run out of smokes and he needs a new pack,

I look for escape, all I need is a cab,

But then he's back before I can pay my tab..."

(insert masturbatory guitar solo here)

I love this part of the song, the way we play it in The Pull Tabs. Just a sense of car wreck chaos followed by this just urgent sex bass part. I take my time with the guitar parts and we work our way back into the chorus chord progression with a melodic/distorted sort of vibe.

"He preaching even louder and really leaning in,

His breath has slowly changed from whiskey to gin.

He's shouting to the heavens for the angels to hear,

and the man behind the bar just served me a beer"

When I first sat down with the guitar, the music wasn't immediate. I heard something in my head, but couldn't find it with my hands. So I let my hands lead. I've done this so many times over the years. There are magic moments when my head and my hands are as one. When those moments happen, I'm almost giddy. If they happen when I'm improvising on stage, you're about to get one hell of a night from me. No luck that day, but when I let my hands just do their thing, a whole new bass line emerged from the depths of nowhere.

The song is bar rock bluesy in nature. I didn't want it to be, but considering the subject matter, it's absolutely appropriate.

At some point, I think songs are like kids...or any other art. You do your best to bring to life what has been given to you by the nature of the universe, sculpt and mold it the best you can, and then at some point, you love and accept them for who they are. This song has been around for about 3 years of my life at this point. It found it's legs with the band I'm in now. It's character has long been in place.

I'm proud of the thing it has become.

"Because he's been there he's done that, man he's seen it all,

He can build you a ladder, over any kind of wall.

But I kind of think this man has fallen off his rocks,

But then everyone's a prophet when it's one o'clock."