22.3.06
I AM COKE!!
| You Are Coke |
 A true original and classic, you represent the best of everything you can offer. Just the right amount of sweet, just the right amount of energy... you're the life of the party. Your best soda match: Mountain Dew Stay away from:Dr Pepper |
14.3.06
Concerts
I love going to conccerts! I've been to two in the last month and both were quite established performers with long careers, and you can tell why.
The first one was Phil Keaggy. Awesome guitarist. One of the best in the world (and has been for 30+ years!) and a true delight to take in! This was my third Keaggy concert but it was the first for my two guests (Anthony and Alex) and that makes the moment even better. I really wouldn't be able to do justice with words describing his ability, so I'll sum it up to say: money well spent.
The second concert was put on by the Arrogant Worms. I was reminded of the healing power of laughter....it feels so good! These guys have been together for over 10 years and they've built their career on great harmony and humor. They are witty and adept at using the humor of the moment. I was really impressed at their ability to involve the crowd and "use" the partcipants against them, as though they made their jobs easier by getting us all doing the work. If that doesn't really make sense to you, that's ok. I know what I mean! The most impressive thing about these three guys is that they perform with three mics and a guitar, sometimes adding in a bass guitar. That's it. And yet, musically, they are diverse and strong, giving no sign of lacking anything. I like that. The Worms can flat out sing together. Awesome.
That brings up a point I'd like to make. Going to a concert like the one put on by the A.W.'s, it proves how important vocals are to lyrical music. If you're going to have vocals, they should be good vocals, tightly sung, and accentuating each other. There are so many bands out there that have great musicians who play extremely well and because they like to write and perform their music, they recruit some lead singer wannabe to toss out some words. AND IT KILLS THE WHOLE ACT. Done. The only way to overcome this weakness is to remain instrumental and impress the crowd with what you're best at... it's kinda sad to hear solid bands with terrible vocals. Maybe that's the driving force behind screaming music? I can't sing, but I can scream reallllll good. Yup. Not my cup of tea.
Regardless, I enjoy concerts. I like 'em, I like 'em alot.
And not unlike John Cuzack's character in High Fidelity, I'm doing something new this week: I'm putting myself out there...doing my own stuff. Scary. Saturday night (18th), I'll be on stage with some friends, hoping that everyone leaves that night having spent their money well. Fin.
The first one was Phil Keaggy. Awesome guitarist. One of the best in the world (and has been for 30+ years!) and a true delight to take in! This was my third Keaggy concert but it was the first for my two guests (Anthony and Alex) and that makes the moment even better. I really wouldn't be able to do justice with words describing his ability, so I'll sum it up to say: money well spent.
The second concert was put on by the Arrogant Worms. I was reminded of the healing power of laughter....it feels so good! These guys have been together for over 10 years and they've built their career on great harmony and humor. They are witty and adept at using the humor of the moment. I was really impressed at their ability to involve the crowd and "use" the partcipants against them, as though they made their jobs easier by getting us all doing the work. If that doesn't really make sense to you, that's ok. I know what I mean! The most impressive thing about these three guys is that they perform with three mics and a guitar, sometimes adding in a bass guitar. That's it. And yet, musically, they are diverse and strong, giving no sign of lacking anything. I like that. The Worms can flat out sing together. Awesome.
That brings up a point I'd like to make. Going to a concert like the one put on by the A.W.'s, it proves how important vocals are to lyrical music. If you're going to have vocals, they should be good vocals, tightly sung, and accentuating each other. There are so many bands out there that have great musicians who play extremely well and because they like to write and perform their music, they recruit some lead singer wannabe to toss out some words. AND IT KILLS THE WHOLE ACT. Done. The only way to overcome this weakness is to remain instrumental and impress the crowd with what you're best at... it's kinda sad to hear solid bands with terrible vocals. Maybe that's the driving force behind screaming music? I can't sing, but I can scream reallllll good. Yup. Not my cup of tea.
Regardless, I enjoy concerts. I like 'em, I like 'em alot.
And not unlike John Cuzack's character in High Fidelity, I'm doing something new this week: I'm putting myself out there...doing my own stuff. Scary. Saturday night (18th), I'll be on stage with some friends, hoping that everyone leaves that night having spent their money well. Fin.
8.3.06
Skydiving...
Have you ever jumped out of a plane?
You should. It's fun!!
Alex and I were preparing a picture wheel (<----see left:a neat gift from our wedding...put photos in frames that spin around like a ferris wheel...not on its own power though, just when you move it...aaarrrrgh) and I was deciding which pics I wanted in the wheel, cause it was going to my office at work. Well, lo and behold, I came across a picture of the group I went skydiving with in California in 2004. That one had to go in there...
I've declared that skydiving is fun, but I feel its important to tell the full story of my first (and only so far) experience with the sport. It is completely true (in my opinion) that jumping out of a plane is fun. In fact, I often wondered if I knew I was going to die, like in three hours or something, and it was certain death, not just probable, and I had to choose how to go out, I always thought that freefalling from super high up would be an energized way to finish life...just falling faster and faster and faster until you hit and it's done. Finito. Wouldn't be so bad. That's why I have always thought that invulnerability (physically) would be an awesome super power, cause you could just jump off of buildings and cliffs and out of planes without getting injured. Though that leads me to wonder if it would still hurt. Like, your bones didn't shatter, but man, it still stings... you know? Anyhow, if being invulnerable means not getting injured AND it doesn't hurt, I'm all in. Sounds good to me. Now, this incredible series of tangents ends with the point. Though falling out of a plane is fun and I would recommend it to anyone, the day of this great fun was less than enjoyable to me. I'll explain why:
The day started with a staff meeting, the final one of the summer at Camp Del Oro in northern California. My fiancee, Alex, is the Program Director at said camp and led us all through a great summer and meaningful ministry. The final meeting is sad, but exciting (to get back to "real" life and freedom) and it ends with a special gift to my lady. She is told by the boss, Bob, that she's getting a bonus for the summer (she was told this in private) and she tells me that she's so excited because it was just enough to cover going skydiving!! This is something she's wanted to do for three years and it was finally going to happen...
ASIDE: Now, those of you out there who are skeptical may think that I decided to jump cause Alex really wanted me to, but the truth is, I had wanted to skydive for many many years. In fact, Brent Shardlow and I planned a jump once but it fell through. Any of you who have met Brent Shardlow know that he hasn't been in Western Canada nor in my contact for years, even before I met Alex, so my decision to jump was based on me. So there. :)
Back to the story:
This had been planned for a week and a half by the members of the camp staff who were going to jump and the whole group was pumped. In fact, I was the only bummed out member. My reason: the Fat Tax. If you are not familiar with skydiving, the only way you can show up somewhere and jump out of the plane that same day is to jump tandem, with a professional strapped to your back like a spooning friend. Well, pros jumping tandem don't like to have really heavy people jump with them cause it hurts more. The heavier the person, the harder the drag when you open the chute and the more your little gear stresses on your legs and groin. Not as much fun. So, to discourage fat people from jumping (fat meaning heavy, even if its all muscle of course) there is a Fat Tax. The Fat Tax is applied to all individuals over 200 lbs in weight. One dollar per pound is assessed to this poor individual causing the perceived value of his* jump to plummet. At a weight of 240 lbs, for example, Mr. X will pay $140 to jump out of the same plane as Mr. T who weighs in at 198 lbs and paid $100. Thus, for the same experience, the perceived value (financially) is reduced by 40% right off the top. Now, if this were not enough, the Fat Tax is accompanied by the Fat Penalty, which further reduces Mr. X (or my...if you haven't caught on to that) satisfaction. The Fat Penalty is the real kicker. This Fat Penalty states that anyone over 200 lbs in weight will only be permitted to jump from an altitude of 6000 feet. Still pretty high up there and still jumping out of a plane, yes, but oh, the unfairness of it all!!! Everyone else jumps at 13,000 feet and gets over one full minute of freefall. I would have only 3000 feet of freefall (about 30 sec)...ahem, pardon me....Mr. X would only have 30 seconds of freefall!! So to wrap this up, Mr. X will pay 40% more for 55% less...arrrraarrrrrggaaagrrragggagghhhahhh!
I had firmly decided that I would not jump, not under those conditions. I could not, in good conscience, pay so much for so little. I would find another way to do this some other day. Unfortunately, I got sucked in by the moment.
Of course, though I had decided not to jump, I accompanied the group to Lodi and the jump center. My fiancee was jumping and I wanted to support her for sure. I was still grumpy though. When we got there, Tim came running up to me, exclaiming:
"They didn't even ask about the weight man! Go for it! You'll get through!!"
He was excited about this because Tim, like myself, weighed in at over 200 lbs. Tim, however, tipped the scales at 210 versus my 240....
I decided to try.
I filled out the forms, paid the money, got through the training, even got called in to get suited up with the group...everything was going smoothly. Until I met Brian (or Bruce, or John... I don't remember his name), the man I would be jumping with. Brian (or Bruce, or John...whatever) was all smiles and giggles. He was a grey haired man, probably about 50 years old, and quite short. In fact, it became obvious that he was the smallest of the pros. Paired up with the biggest of the jumpers...makes sense. After introducing himself and explaining how amazing my experience would be, Brian (or Bruce, or John...I don't like the guy, who cares?) sizes me up and asks, "How much you weigh Brent? It's important we have it right for safety." To which I answer, halfheartedly, "about 240..." "Yeah, why don't you step up here" (he motions to a scale, conveniently placed beside the door to the tarmac) "and we'll check it out."
Sure enough, I weighed 240 lbs, so Brian (or Bruce, or John...maybe Satan) says casually, "Well, that'll be forty bucks and we'll get going, jumping from 6000 feet of course!" I was shocked. To wait so long to ask for this Fat Tax and assesment of the Fat Penalty! I was right at the door!!! I was 100 feet from the plane!!! Ooooo the cruelty of it all!!!
Needless to say, before I paid the money, I had a conversation with Brian (or Bruce, or John...definitely Satan) during which he guaranteed that this would still blow my mind. I should have said, "or what...my money back?" but I didn't. I got stuck in the moment and paid the Fat Tax and accepted the Fat Penalty....
The bonus of this whole situation was that Alex and I would share this experience together (except she would jump from higher up, much after me) and I'd be jumping with friends too! Tim did manage to sneak through under the Fat Tax and I was happy for him. The secondary bonus was discovered when we loaded up the plane and I found out that I got to sit in the doorway of the plane for the whole takeoff and ascent! That was really cool! We arrived at 6000 feet, Brian (or Bruce, or John...by now, my Angel) asked if I was ready and told me to jump whenever...so we jumped.
Freefall is beautiful. Amazing. Truly.
"Time to pull the 'chute!!"
OUUUUUUUUUCCCCCHHHH! That hurt. Brian (or Bruce, or John...back to Satan) agreed, "Yeah, that was a bad one!"
He let me control the ascent for most of the fall and I got to push some G's (measures of the effect of gravity) by doing controlled spins on the way down (I recommend that!!). Then came the landing. He blew that pretty bad in my opinion. He explained that I should keep my legs up and then catch the ground running once he touched...well, Mr. Shortypants didn't touch the ground and simply landed on me, with everyone watching....what a dummy.
I didn't ask for my money back, but I don't think he fulfilled his guarantee... though, in retrospect, no one could 've made me happy that day following the rules of safety. It's just one of those situations that is out of your hands. Sigh.
Alex came down about three people later and I was there to hug her right away. She still would claim that day as one of the best days of her life and I am happy for that! She was disappointed by my sadness, but wouldn't let Eeyore ruin her day (good for her!). I sulked and dealt with it all on my own, ignoring the joys of company for the rest of the day. Pretty lame. But I don't regret it. And I don't regret jumping either.
I'll do it again someday by myself. That way there is no Fat Tax :)
*I will use the masculine pronoun throughout this hypothetical because I am not aware of any females weighing 200+ lbs that are dying to jump out of a plane, so the male example is really the only one necessary. SO there.
You should. It's fun!!
Alex and I were preparing a picture wheel (<----see left:a neat gift from our wedding...put photos in frames that spin around like a ferris wheel...not on its own power though, just when you move it...aaarrrrgh) and I was deciding which pics I wanted in the wheel, cause it was going to my office at work. Well, lo and behold, I came across a picture of the group I went skydiving with in California in 2004. That one had to go in there...I've declared that skydiving is fun, but I feel its important to tell the full story of my first (and only so far) experience with the sport. It is completely true (in my opinion) that jumping out of a plane is fun. In fact, I often wondered if I knew I was going to die, like in three hours or something, and it was certain death, not just probable, and I had to choose how to go out, I always thought that freefalling from super high up would be an energized way to finish life...just falling faster and faster and faster until you hit and it's done. Finito. Wouldn't be so bad. That's why I have always thought that invulnerability (physically) would be an awesome super power, cause you could just jump off of buildings and cliffs and out of planes without getting injured. Though that leads me to wonder if it would still hurt. Like, your bones didn't shatter, but man, it still stings... you know? Anyhow, if being invulnerable means not getting injured AND it doesn't hurt, I'm all in. Sounds good to me. Now, this incredible series of tangents ends with the point. Though falling out of a plane is fun and I would recommend it to anyone, the day of this great fun was less than enjoyable to me. I'll explain why:
The day started with a staff meeting, the final one of the summer at Camp Del Oro in northern California. My fiancee, Alex, is the Program Director at said camp and led us all through a great summer and meaningful ministry. The final meeting is sad, but exciting (to get back to "real" life and freedom) and it ends with a special gift to my lady. She is told by the boss, Bob, that she's getting a bonus for the summer (she was told this in private) and she tells me that she's so excited because it was just enough to cover going skydiving!! This is something she's wanted to do for three years and it was finally going to happen...
ASIDE: Now, those of you out there who are skeptical may think that I decided to jump cause Alex really wanted me to, but the truth is, I had wanted to skydive for many many years. In fact, Brent Shardlow and I planned a jump once but it fell through. Any of you who have met Brent Shardlow know that he hasn't been in Western Canada nor in my contact for years, even before I met Alex, so my decision to jump was based on me. So there. :)
Back to the story:
This had been planned for a week and a half by the members of the camp staff who were going to jump and the whole group was pumped. In fact, I was the only bummed out member. My reason: the Fat Tax. If you are not familiar with skydiving, the only way you can show up somewhere and jump out of the plane that same day is to jump tandem, with a professional strapped to your back like a spooning friend. Well, pros jumping tandem don't like to have really heavy people jump with them cause it hurts more. The heavier the person, the harder the drag when you open the chute and the more your little gear stresses on your legs and groin. Not as much fun. So, to discourage fat people from jumping (fat meaning heavy, even if its all muscle of course) there is a Fat Tax. The Fat Tax is applied to all individuals over 200 lbs in weight. One dollar per pound is assessed to this poor individual causing the perceived value of his* jump to plummet. At a weight of 240 lbs, for example, Mr. X will pay $140 to jump out of the same plane as Mr. T who weighs in at 198 lbs and paid $100. Thus, for the same experience, the perceived value (financially) is reduced by 40% right off the top. Now, if this were not enough, the Fat Tax is accompanied by the Fat Penalty, which further reduces Mr. X (or my...if you haven't caught on to that) satisfaction. The Fat Penalty is the real kicker. This Fat Penalty states that anyone over 200 lbs in weight will only be permitted to jump from an altitude of 6000 feet. Still pretty high up there and still jumping out of a plane, yes, but oh, the unfairness of it all!!! Everyone else jumps at 13,000 feet and gets over one full minute of freefall. I would have only 3000 feet of freefall (about 30 sec)...ahem, pardon me....Mr. X would only have 30 seconds of freefall!! So to wrap this up, Mr. X will pay 40% more for 55% less...arrrraarrrrrggaaagrrragggagghhhahhh!
I had firmly decided that I would not jump, not under those conditions. I could not, in good conscience, pay so much for so little. I would find another way to do this some other day. Unfortunately, I got sucked in by the moment.
Of course, though I had decided not to jump, I accompanied the group to Lodi and the jump center. My fiancee was jumping and I wanted to support her for sure. I was still grumpy though. When we got there, Tim came running up to me, exclaiming:
"They didn't even ask about the weight man! Go for it! You'll get through!!"
He was excited about this because Tim, like myself, weighed in at over 200 lbs. Tim, however, tipped the scales at 210 versus my 240....
I decided to try.
I filled out the forms, paid the money, got through the training, even got called in to get suited up with the group...everything was going smoothly. Until I met Brian (or Bruce, or John... I don't remember his name), the man I would be jumping with. Brian (or Bruce, or John...whatever) was all smiles and giggles. He was a grey haired man, probably about 50 years old, and quite short. In fact, it became obvious that he was the smallest of the pros. Paired up with the biggest of the jumpers...makes sense. After introducing himself and explaining how amazing my experience would be, Brian (or Bruce, or John...I don't like the guy, who cares?) sizes me up and asks, "How much you weigh Brent? It's important we have it right for safety." To which I answer, halfheartedly, "about 240..." "Yeah, why don't you step up here" (he motions to a scale, conveniently placed beside the door to the tarmac) "and we'll check it out."
Sure enough, I weighed 240 lbs, so Brian (or Bruce, or John...maybe Satan) says casually, "Well, that'll be forty bucks and we'll get going, jumping from 6000 feet of course!" I was shocked. To wait so long to ask for this Fat Tax and assesment of the Fat Penalty! I was right at the door!!! I was 100 feet from the plane!!! Ooooo the cruelty of it all!!!
Needless to say, before I paid the money, I had a conversation with Brian (or Bruce, or John...definitely Satan) during which he guaranteed that this would still blow my mind. I should have said, "or what...my money back?" but I didn't. I got stuck in the moment and paid the Fat Tax and accepted the Fat Penalty....
The bonus of this whole situation was that Alex and I would share this experience together (except she would jump from higher up, much after me) and I'd be jumping with friends too! Tim did manage to sneak through under the Fat Tax and I was happy for him. The secondary bonus was discovered when we loaded up the plane and I found out that I got to sit in the doorway of the plane for the whole takeoff and ascent! That was really cool! We arrived at 6000 feet, Brian (or Bruce, or John...by now, my Angel) asked if I was ready and told me to jump whenever...so we jumped.
Freefall is beautiful. Amazing. Truly.
"Time to pull the 'chute!!"
OUUUUUUUUUCCCCCHHHH! That hurt. Brian (or Bruce, or John...back to Satan) agreed, "Yeah, that was a bad one!"
He let me control the ascent for most of the fall and I got to push some G's (measures of the effect of gravity) by doing controlled spins on the way down (I recommend that!!). Then came the landing. He blew that pretty bad in my opinion. He explained that I should keep my legs up and then catch the ground running once he touched...well, Mr. Shortypants didn't touch the ground and simply landed on me, with everyone watching....what a dummy.
I didn't ask for my money back, but I don't think he fulfilled his guarantee... though, in retrospect, no one could 've made me happy that day following the rules of safety. It's just one of those situations that is out of your hands. Sigh.
Alex came down about three people later and I was there to hug her right away. She still would claim that day as one of the best days of her life and I am happy for that! She was disappointed by my sadness, but wouldn't let Eeyore ruin her day (good for her!). I sulked and dealt with it all on my own, ignoring the joys of company for the rest of the day. Pretty lame. But I don't regret it. And I don't regret jumping either.
I'll do it again someday by myself. That way there is no Fat Tax :)
*I will use the masculine pronoun throughout this hypothetical because I am not aware of any females weighing 200+ lbs that are dying to jump out of a plane, so the male example is really the only one necessary. SO there.
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