Monday, February 4, 2008

Time to become a loser...

I've had it with weighing this much. I'm going to report my progress here, but without a scale I am guessing that I weigh somewhere around 300lbs. Don't freak out, I am 6'2", but still, my ideal weight is somewhere around 220. If I am ever going to play music in front of anyone again, I need to be in shape anways.

Besides that, I would like women to look at me the way they used to. No more letting myself go.

It ends now.

Another one of those decisions...

My life could be defined by the decisions I make. Not me, but my life. I recently talked to my best friend Mike about moving back to Indiana and writing music again. I think I am at a point in my life where this would be acceptable, except that I have children that depend on me financially, and just uprooting myself at a whim is terribly irresponsible, and unfair to them.

I could get a job back there, sure, but would it work out? I've moved from and to Indiana many times and it hasn't always gone well. I want it to, but again, decisions I make are just absolutely poor.

Why would it be different this time?

Several reasons. For one, I am still the same person, but with a few changes. As I have said before, I am not defining myself by employment. I am a writer. I am also a writer of music. I just haven't made music in a long time. My oldest girl would love to have me back there and would also love to see us play. I dunno. Seems risky.

But I've always taken risks, consequences be damned. Could a second go-around with music be successful in this horrible market? Possibly, but we would have to redefine our music. not change it, but evolve it. I would like that.

I still have it in me to write and play music. I am a better writer than I used to be, and my lyrics, poems, short stories come from experience instead of pretention.

Maybe I will go back. But I have some things to take care of here first.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Who are we?

Have you ever seriously asked yourself, who am I? I do all of the time.

I used to think that I was what I did for a living. Whether it be truck driver, pizza delivery guy, high school teacher, computer tech, or whatever job I had at the time, I always associated myself with that classification. I don't think that's a fair assessment of who a person is.

A job is simply what we do, not who we are. For instance, if I asked my dad who he was, he would never say "Son, I'm a Medical Lab Technician." He would probably say "I'm Mike" to his friends or "Your father" to his children.

I've spent my life trying to put myself into a catagory that doesn't exist. Who I am is not identifiable by job classification. Who I am might be a culmination of what I am, where I am, and why I am.

What I am.

I am a father of three beautiful children who live far away from me. I am a facility support technician for a naval contractor. I am fatter than I would like to be. I am going bald. Finally, after many years of convincing myself, I am a writer.

Where I am.

I am in San Diego, California. I am at a point in life where things don't matter to me as much as meaning. As far as mindset, I am where my choices have led me(but that might fit under 'Why'). I am 35 years old, renting a room, and barely making ends meet.

Why I am.

Choices, choices, choices. If I had some decisions to make over again, of course I would be happy to do that. But I don't. I drink too much. I make bad decisions. Money slips through my fingers. I am very irresponsible when spending money. I bite off more than I can chew. I have no goals in life save one: to become a paid writer. Make no mistake, I would write for free because I love doing so, but my ultimate goal is to make money doing something I love. And that is writing. I am who I am not because I was raised a certain way or because I was mistreated or something stupid like that, I am who I am because of who I am and what I have chosen to do with my life. It's not all good, but it's all me. I own it. And if I succeed despite myself, I have only myself to thank(and of course God whose grace afforded me forgiveness, and the ability to forgive myself and lead a somewhat normal life), and not one other person in this world.

I am me. I am a writer. I am a gamer. I am a man who suffers headaches most of the times. Who cares? In the end, who really cares? I know readers of this post won't. But ask yourself these questions, and see who you are. Decide who you are before you even consider judging someone else.

Rant

It seems that most of my life, I have had the bad luck of not getting positive credit for things I have done well. One instance came back into my life recently, but let me shed some light on the affair.

In the 1990's I was in a band called Victor Puppybone. I named the band, and formed it with my still, best-friend Mike. It lasted a few years, making a few changes in the lineup, but consisting mainly of him and myself. We changed drummers, and got a new guitarist(forcing me to move to bass which I wanted to do anyway), and made some very nice music, all original. Music was co-written by myself and the new guitarist, and the lyrics were mostly written by the guitarist. it came time to make a CD, and we paid the engineers to do so. The songs sounded a bit hollow, but what can you ask for the measly amount we paid.

Before it's release(self-release), I decided that musically this was not the direction I wanted to go, so I came to an agreement with the rest of the band that I wanted to go do my own thing. No fault seperation. But then something surprised me.

The album came out, and in the picture of the band sat the new bassist. No surprise there, but underneath it was the list of who and who did what on the record. The new bassist was listed as the bass player of the album, but in the credits was a small disclaimer saying "Thanks to Steve Paden for playing on the album."

Ok.

Playing what? I got no credit for writing half the songs musically, and some of these songs were completely written by me. I got no money for any sales or anything. Oh well, rock and roll, right?

The years go by...

I harbor no ill will towards anyone in the band, and still enjoy talking to the whenever I can. But something irked me in a Myspace message I received from a subscriber calling himself Victor Puppybone. I laughed and expected to see one of the old goofballs sending me something funny, but instead, when I opened it up, I read something to the effect of:

"Victor Puppybone playing at so and so, one night only, loads of liquor and fun. All original members back for one night only."

What?

I'm 2000 miles away from everyone else, and I don't remember being asked to come back? All original members. I wrote half the songs, named the band, started the band, and I am not considered and 'original member.'

I jokingly sent the guitarist a snap stating "all original members, eh?"

He laughed and conceded the error, and I let him know what it was cool. I also wished them luck with the show.

These guys are not evil, or bad, but I just kinda wonder, why do I do things and not get credit for them? Do I not stand up for myself enough? This incident was extremely minor, and because there was no major amount of money in the sales of the CD, I didn't press the matter. But why? It is not the first time that something like this has happened. The fault must lie with me.

What I write, and what I create, is MINE. This is another reason I write. Because, in the end, if it does pay off, it will be mine.


Mine.

The science of sleep...

For the past few weeks, I have been experiencing trouble sleeping. At first, I blamed the drinking I was doing before bed and while alcohol has a tendency to make me extremely sleepy, it does not make for a restful night of slumber. Waking up abruptly to an annoying alarm clock doesn't help matters, either.

A week ago, I decided to stop drinking(not because I had some great epiphany) in general, but I was surprised at the results. I went to bed every night, wired. My heart would race as I stared at the ceiling, and an hour later I would eventually succumb to boredom and fall asleep. But again, my restless night's sleep ended shorter than I would have liked, and to the sound of the annoying alarm clock.

Before the time change, I would wake up about an hour before the alarm clock, and this was preferrable. I enjoy, as I'm sure others might, waking up on my own and still having plenty of time to prepare for the day.

Last night, I took a few Tylenol PM's which made me extremely drowsy, but a littler earlier than I intended. I didn't care. I needed sleep. I rolled into bed around 8:30pm, put Solaris in the DVD player, and fell alseep to the soothing sounds of this magnificent movie and it's equally brilliant soundtrack. Seamless transition into the land of ZzZzZz's.

BEEP BEEP BEEP is what I heard next. I tossed and turned a few times that night which gave me some reference that time was not passing by so fast, but still the alarm came sooner than I expected, and sooner than I wished.

But something was different. I have more energy today, and while my mind might not be refreshed, my body certainly is. Sometimes you have to do things that your mind doesn't understand. The result is that, while your mind is scratching itself on the head, your body is thanking you in the end.

I feel refreshed today. Financially, this is a bad time for me(and a lot of others), but I don't care about all that. With my body taken care of for the moment, my mind is following suit and my outlook on things is a bit brighter.

Sleep is good. Our bodies and minds need it. And I am not young enough to go without it anymore.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

What's in a name?

I wanted to address the interesting name I chose for my blog. I have always been a huge Dream Theater fan. If you don't know, Dream Theater are a group of guys that have been together for twenty years, and have refused to sell out to mainstream listeners in order to make a quick buck. After sixteen years of listening to them, I recently came upon a CD I never really paid much attention to: A Change of Seasons. I liked the name. But I also liked what it meant, didn't mean, or wanted to mean.

On the CD, the band explores a different album concept(for them) and performs a 17+ minute song on the first side. This is an absolute slam dunk of a song, and I'm sure it pissed off many critics, as critics have attention spans lasting an average of 4 seconds. A true fan of music and its appreciation, will enjoy this longer than usual song in its three parts.

I'm rambling...

I chose the title because I liked it. I chose it because it fits the way I have lived. I have lived for others in the past, and compromised, but in my waning years, have realized that that is not who I am. I am not saying that living for another is wrong, but it is not who I am. I live for myself in hopes that I am following what God wants me to do. I may be way off(and probably am), but I believe that what God wants for me is more important than what anyone here wants. I am in a listening stage, I suppose.

My life(like most people I think) has also been a change of seasons. Good times, bad times, numb times, extreme highs, extreme lows(HA!, maybe I'm bi-polar), but overall, no different than anyone else's. The only thing that differs me from others, is me. I am a product not of my environment, but my assessment and assimilation of each season I weather, and as the years increase, so will my completion as a person.

Unless I die in a fiery crash of molten metal.

But who can see that coming? No one except God. So I will do my best to listen to Him, read more of His word, and watch the leaves change as each season passes by.

Well, here I am.....

So I decided to create a blog. Why? Who knows? I suppose therapy might be involved. Or boredom...

If you like science fiction, online gaming, moral platitudes, or a bunch of words streamed together into paragraph format without the influence of coffee, you might like what I have to say. If you don't, then I really don't care.