In the words of Napoleon Dynamite...

... Yessssssssssss!!!

I'VE GOT IT!! I'VE GOT IT!! My driver's license!!

Ready? Let's roll onto something new...

I passed the driving test with flying colors. Funny thing, though... While in the office before the test, the dude behind the counter in the psuedo-cop outfit said, "I have to ask you a question, sir... Have you been drinking at all today? Because I smell alcohol." I snorted a laugh. As IF I'm going to drink on the day I take my driving and manueverability test... He said it might be my jacket... I work in a bar... I told him I'd take a breathilyzer, I'd submit to sobriety tests... Get the state trooper out here if need be... I'm getting my license...

Anyway, I'm suffereing from a head cold... runny nose, cough, sneezing. And I've got some serious medicine head. Rest assured, though, that as soon as I recuperate I'll post more.

And check back for a pic of the license... I plan on scanning it in at my Mom's office and sharing it with the entire freakin' world.

The Hallelujah Chorus has been playing in my head non-stop. Praise God!

Almost there!

Well.... I called the Ohio BMV and I'm all cleared in their computers! So I went in to get a temporary driver's permit and take the written test... AND PASSED!!! All that's left now is the driving test, which is scheduled for 8:40 A.M. tomorrow morning. I don't want to get cocky, but I think I'll do fine...

And that will be the end of this long, arduous journey. Sure, it'll be the beginning of another... but this time it'll be an ADVENTURE. I'll have my LIFE back... my FREEDOM... I'll be able to drive to work... to church... to Yellow Springs... I'll be able to get a McDonald's breakfast if I wake up craving one! No more depending on others for rides... William Wallace knew something of this feeling......

...

I had to turn down the job opportunity from yesterday. It did indeed turn out to be sales... Insurance, mortgages, debt consolidation. Definitely NOT something I want to do. First, I have ZERO PERCENT knowledge of finances, insurance policies, mortgages, etc... Plus, I'm incredibly horrible at even BASIC math... I could just see myself utterly ruining some poor family's financial situation because I forgot to move the decimal point over or hit the wrong button on the calculator. Still, I needed to go to the interview to at least see what they had to offer. But I know I have neither the motivation nor the desire to work in a sales-based career. Especially one involving finances. So it's best for both parties if I pass.

Oh, well. With my license, I'll be able to drive around Xenia and find a second job.

PRAISE GOD!

A new job?

I'm going in for an interview today with (I think) the marketing department of Citigroup... whatever that is. My friend Tanisha recommended me to one of their bosses, recruiters, whatever, and he called me Monday. The interview's at 2:30...

Tanisha was really ambiguous when it came to the actual job description itself. I asked her point blank twice what I'd be doing, but I still don't remember the nebulous answers she gave back. Part of that makes me hesitant... If this is a commission-based job, or if I have to sell x amount of products or meet a quota per month, then I'm going to pass. I'm definitely NOT a salesman. I have neither the desire nor the skills to convince people to buy crap they probably don't need.

Joe, the Citigroup representative I'm to meet with today, will explain everything, I guess. This looks like it could be a great opportunity to break out of the food service industry and start something new... I guess I'm willing to try anything once (except sales!). It would be full time, which would really help me out financially. And there'd be benfits, health insurance... maybe I could get my teeth fixed or finally switch from these old glasses of mine to new-perscription contact lenses.

Anyway, I've brought it before God in prayer, and I'm asking for a spirit of discernment when it comes to this new opportunity. I don't want to get swindled into something I'd rather not do. Here's hoping this will work out for the greater good...

I'm not really nervous.

From that cloud, number nine...

Where have the comments gone?

I know I've been whacking you over the head with dismal, depressing blog entries lately... but all that's going to change. It has already changed.

So strike up the kazoo band, pull the string and drop the confetti. Billy's back in the game, baby.

I know you guys visit this blog. According to my hit counter, there were almost thirty people who visited since last I logged on.

So where are the comments?

I do this for myself, first of all... But I also write because I want to be read. And I want to know that people are reading. Comprehending. Diggin'. You know.

So if you visit this blog once a day, or once a week, to see what inanity I've come up with... Leave me a little something to remember you by.

In the words of that razzy little droog Alex, "O, my brothers, how I love each and every one of you." So, reciprocate!

"And I've been waiting such a long time..."

I'm mailing the $30 reinstatement fee to the Ohio Bureau of Motor Vehicles today. They should receive it by Monday. I'm cleared in the Tennessee computers; now I just have to wait until the offices in Colombus receive my payment and re-adjust me in their computers. And then I'll be able to get my driver's license here in Xenia.

Driver's license --> money --> power = women. So simple an equation. ;)

---

I bought Starflyer 59's new album (Talking Voice vs. Singing Voice) on Sunday. I've been following the band since '94. They started out as My Bloody Valentine-eqsue shoegazers, but as the years rolled by their music matured, metamorphosized into a signature style that is both unique and instantly recognizable.

I'm really bad at describing music, especially rock and roll... It's so easy to pigenhole bands together by style or genre. In the case of Starflyer 59, though, their music is all over the place. Jason Martin, the singer, guitarist, and songwriter, attempts to re-write the rules of rock and roll with each new song. One track may be an ominous rock dirge with heavy cruncha-cruncha guitars and indecipherable vocals, while the next is a soft, 50's style lounge song with sparse guitars, brush-stick drums, whispered vocals, and the background sound of ice tinkling in martini glasses. Their influences are a smattering of kick-ass musicians, ranging from Hank Williams to Patsy Cline to The Cure to The Smiths, by way of My Bloody Valentine, Johnny Cash, Dick Dale, and yes, even 80's new wave.

Out of all my favorite rock and roll bands, Starflyer 59 has the most luscious, beautiful guitar arrangements... They're heartbreakingly sad... They conjure up images of a lonely man walking through the desert, or a boy standing in the rain who can't think of anything but his girl.

Like Joy Electric, Starflyer 59's lyrics are rooted heavily in nostalgia. I think it's why I like both bands so much. Just take, for example, the lyrics to "Fell in Love at 22":

Fell in love at 22
With a girl that's close to you
Find a job and find a life
No more long days, longer nights
With your girl and family too
Playing card games in the room

This is our life, our old times...

Now that John is 42
With a family like you
With a job that led him down
Don't you know I led him round?

This is our life, our old times...

If you know me, you know I tend to ramble on and on about old friends and adventures from the past. I have an adventure, a story, for every occasion, and I love to share them with anybody who will listen. And I look back on those times with a sort of fond bittersweetness. SF59 feels the same way. Growing up in Orange County, California (their hometown), is probably a hell of a lot different than growing up in Dayton, Tennessee, but the magic of youth transcends region. It's the music that connects us...

Starflyer 59 music is a sure-fire way to cure a hangover or make you think about that pretty blond-haired girl in high school who stole your heart but married That Other Guy.

Check out their Purevolume site and listen to my new favorite song, "Good Sons". And buy their album, dammit!

---

I'm currently reading The Elegant Universe, by Pulitzer Prize finalist Brian Greene. He's a leading physicist in quantum mechanics and has some interesting theories concerning the fundamental fabric of space, time, matter, and everything else that exists in the universe.

He's a proponent of superstring theory, that is, the theory that every particle of matter, and indeed, every force or influence (including gravity and electromagnetic waves) in existence, arises from the vibrations of two-dimensional strings(these strings are sub-quantum in scale: ultra-ultra-ultra microscopic, about three billionths of a centimeter). These tiny loops of string vibrate like the strings on a violin; some loops vibrate slowly, like a low note on a violin, while other loops vibrate very fast, like a high note. Low vibrations produce less energy, while high vibrations produce more.

Everyone's familiar with the model of the atom. You learned it in science class back in junior high. You know, the cluster of balls (protons and neutrons) surrounded by orbiting electrons. And everything's made from atoms. Your body contains untold billions of them. Everything you touch, see, smell, taste, and experience in life is made up of atoms. But when you get down deeper, and start looking at the fundamental particles that come together to form atoms (electrons, neutrons, protons), you see that they, too, are made up of even smaller particles, called quarks. But if you look even further, you'll find that the quarks themselves are made of even tinier loops of string.

Sound crazy? I thought so, too, until I started reading this book.

For over 100 years, man has been on a quest to unify the four fundamental forces of nature. These include gravity, electromagnetism, and the strong and weak nuclear forces. You're familiar with the first two: gravity and electromagnetism. Gravity's what keeps your feet planted firmly to the earth. It makes apples fall from trees and keeps our atmosphere from escaping into space. Electromagnetism is the force behind most of our daily household items and appliances, such as TV, radio, microwaves, even your stove. The other two forces, the strong and weak nuclear foces, are a bit shadier. You may not have heard of them. The strong nuclear force is the "glue" that binds atoms together. It's like a really tiny version of gravity. Imagine that an atom is the size of a solar system. Just as gravity keeps the planets of the solar system tied together in perfect balance and motion, so too does the strong nuclear force keep the particles in an atom together. The weak nuclear force is responsible for the radioactive decay of substances like uranium and plutonium.

So far the quest to unite these four fundamental forces of nature has failed. The reason is this: Einstein's theory of special and general relativity, while explaining perfectly the patterns of the macroscopic universe (the universe we can perceive with our five senses), breaks apart when the same rules are applied to the microscopic universe (the universe of atoms, particles, quanta, etc.) Simply put, they are imcompatable. But yet they're both right. How can this be? This paradox has frustrated legions of physicists since the 1930's, and it was the one equation that eluded Einstein his entire life. Uniting all four forces would lead to what physicists consider the Holy Grail of science: a universal Theory of Everything (also called a Unified Field Theory, or Grand Unified Theory) that explains, in the simplest of terms, how everything in the universe, from the macroscopic to the microscopic, works. And not just how it works, but WHY it works. It would be a window into the mind of God.

Scientists, including the author, Brian Greene, believe they have found the answer in superstring theory. So far all the research has yielded amazing results; like a puzzle whose pieces have been scattered to the four corners of the earth, man is slowly finding them and putting them back together. Soon, possibly within the next 50 years, we'll start to see the picture emerging.

I'd try to explain superstring theory, but I'm only on page 50, and this book is seriously intense. It's humping my brain relentlessly. As soon as I finish it, or at least digest enough to regurgitate, I'll post a science lesson on the blog.

Maybe we're one step closer to hyperspacing it to a galaxy far, far away...

---

Hey! All the cool kids are myspacin' it. You should, too!

More importantly, I have a favor to ask of you: if you're a friend of mine from Dayton, Chattanooga, or the general 423 area in Tennessee (or if I knew you in high school -- Matt!), then create a profile at myspace.com (it's free). Look me up and add me to your friends list. I only have 10 so far. Everybody else has, like, 300. Trust me, myspace is fun, you'd be surprised who's on there. It's the one thing everybody's doing that I actually like.

10 to 20

I know the suspect involved. He is an intimate member of our family.

Press Release
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Pursuit Ends with Arrest

On Saturday, April 16, 2005, at approximately 11:12 AM the Lee County Sheriff's Office received a report about an aggravated battery to a law enforcement officer. The incident occurred at Handy Court and Henderson Avenue, Fort Myers, Lee County, Florida. Lee County Sheriff's Deputies responded.

A vehicle pursuit was initiated after Corporal Artie Eggeling attempted to make contact with a citizen. The man entered a green, 2003 Mitsubishi convertible then accelerated directly at the deputy. The car struck the officer's forearm as he tried to avoid being struck. The driver fled driving through numerous stop signs and traffic signals eventually getting caught behind vehicles at the intersection of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard and Ortiz Avenue. As deputies attempted to converge on the subject, the driver ran the car into the rear of a vehicle directly in front of him forcing that car to strike a van. The fleeing felon accelerated past the crash scene and headed northbound on Ortiz Avenue to Palm Beach Boulevard, west to Marsh Avenue, then circling back east and north to Palm Beach Boulevard. During the maneuver the suspect struck a patrol car occupied by another deputy near Scott Avenue.

The vehicle pursuit continued as the suspect vehicle entered southbound I-75, exiting at Luckett Road west to Ortiz Avenue where he turned south. The suspect continued through two major intersections before getting boxed in by patrol units near Bernwood Place, just north of the intersection of Winkler Avenue Extension. The suspect drove off the roadway into a large grassy area and finally came to rest where he was taken into custody without further incident.

Due to the nature of the incident, Detectives with the with the Lee County Sheriff's Office Auto Theft Unit were notified and instructed to assume the investigation. The Fort Myers Police Department investigated the traffic crash which reportedly resulted in injury to two persons. Corporal Eggleing was not seriously injured.

So far, the investigation revealed the suspect vehicle was being reported stolen as the subsequent events unfolded. The victim's identification, cash and other items were found in possession of the suspect. The suspect has been identified as listed below and charges are pending further investigation. Possible charges include: two counts of aggravated battery on a law enforcement officer; one count each of grand theft auto, aggravated fleeing and eluding, leaving the scene of an accident involving injury, leaving the scene of an accident involving property damage, petit theft and driving while license suspended. Additional charges may be forthcoming.

Arrests 1 Joshua M. Estes, 2935 S.E. 15th Place, Cape Coral, FL. White male, age 28.

The defendant will be transported to the Lee County Jail for booking and a mugshot will be available on the Sheriff's Office website at http://www.sheriffleefl.org, although one already exists after an arrest earlier this month.

Check yoself befo you wreck yoself

So I'm sitting here staring at a blank monitor, anathema to a writer, yet I cannot find a single thing to write about. In light of other things, a lot of my personal problems seem to take on an selfish aspect.

We all know life consists of mountains and valleys. The thing is, those mountaintop fancies look a lot shorter from the valley, where, to our embittered eyes, the horizon extends into forever. For every year I spend on the mountain, I spend three in the valley. Some argue that this serves the purpose of reminding us just how precious those few moments are way up there on the zenith. Others look at it as Fate's way of toying with us. I think I straddle the fence, somewhere in between.

Like roughly everyone else, I'm self-obsessed. I'm so caught up with my failures, my lost hopes, and my wasted time that I can barely see the fruits of my toil, even though they surround me. Oh, sure, I can see the apparent happiness of others: the smiles the men and women wear in public, the physical contact of two lovers holdling hands across a dinner table, the laughs of drunken friends as they swap stories at the bar. But I feel like an Observer, a note-taker, someone acutely aware of those fulfilling activities and rituals but strictly forbidden not to partake of or engage in them.

There are numerous reasons for this. Number one, I'm not where I want to be. Physically, mentally, spiritually. I thought I'd be graduated by now, teaching high school english, in a town where I feel comfortable and at home. Instead I'm a stranger in a strange land. I'm forced to pay debts I incurred over a year ago while visiting a ghost. I thought I'd be free from my vices. I imagined myself head of the household, spiritually. But somehow, every day, I find myself in this dark, dingy basement, trying to write one true sentence, when the truth is, I've hardly lived life at all.

There were no crazy high school parties; no hotel rooms after the prom (I never went); no wild college spring break trips to Cancun, or West Palm, or Miami; no insane rock concerts or three-day-long music festivals. I never got into fights. I never even hit someone until I was nineteen, and even then, I only got three or four punches in (I won, by default... he got pinned by someone, and couldn't land one). I've never seduced a girl. I've never played in a football game, or hunted a deer, or been kayaking. I've only been overseas once, when I was five, and that hardly counts. (It was Germany). I've never been to New York, L.A., London, Paris, Madrid... The farthest west I've ever been was Texas, and all I remember of it was the heat.

I've had three girlfriends since high school. The first was Elizabeth "Tizzy" Forehand. I met her in Murfreesboro and we dated for about three months, the summer before my sophomore year in college. I was 18. The second was Angela Durrance, and I can't technically call her my "girlfriend", because we were merely "dating" at the time (although I felt -- foolishly -- that we were exclusive). I was 20. She was 25. She had an adorable little five-year-old boy, Austin, who was obsessed with Pokemon. We dated long enough for me to fall in love, although I was still learning what "being in love" truthfully meant. We dated for about four months. It wasn't until four years later, however, when I met Nellie, that I finally understood the complete selflessness of true love. But that experience left me broken and miserable... feelings which continue to this very day; indeed, to this very moment.

So, then, if a writer must write about what he knows... what if the writer knows very little? Or not enough? Or, what if what he knows isn't true? You could say truth is relative, truth is different to everybody... But some things are universal... And what if my stories, my characters, my poems, whatever... what if they're merely the ramblings of a crazy man? What if they don't touch that universal core in all of us? Heh. Now I'm just being pretentious...

My personal truth, then, is this: live life a little bit more each day...?

Hell, I have no personal truth. Except hope that one day I'll make it, I'll have those precious treasures, even if I have to crawl on my belly to get there.

Melody (the greatest album of all time...) 

A (poor-quality) sample from "The Boy Who Never Forgot" by Joy Electric

Obsessions (1) - Joy Electric

Twelve years ago, I became a Christian.

Those of you who are Christian understand the transformational process that usually proceeds salvation. As the spirit becomes more aligned with both the heart and the mind, familiar patterns in life begin to take on a whole new meaning.

Case in point: music. On a youth trip to Gatlinburg one year, I found a booth selling Christian rock and roll. Coming from a purely secular background, the idea seemed oxymoronic to me. Christian rock and roll? At the time, I thought (and I'll be honest), "Could anything be more pussyfied?" Of course, the irony fascinated me. How could it be done? So I went to the bookstore at Bryan College and bought my very first Christian rock and roll album ever, The Choir's Speckled Bird. I brought it home, unwrapped the packaging, and put it into the CD player.

I don't know what I expected, but what came out of the speakers, and what I heard that day, dropped a bomb on me. There was an entire universe of music out there, music created by Believers, Brothers and Sisters, that bypassed the Praise & Worship and Michael W. Smith sections and went straight to the youths on fire.

Rhea County High School, for being a teaching institution smack in the middle of Redneck Nowhere, produced an uncanny amount of progressive-thinking, alternative-oriented individuals. Some of these individuals went on to form numerous rock and roll bands, but this has been discussed elsewhere. That said, however, you can understand my access to independant music, Christian or otherwise.

Via Christian bookstores, mail-order catalogs, and the burgeoning medium of the Internet, and by the recommendation of my friends, I managed to amass a pretty diverse collection of "indie" Christian rock bands....

[INTERLUDE: Picture it: Florida, 1993. The summer before my freshman year in high school. I'm with my mom in a gigantic Christian bookstore in Ft. Myers. There's a set of headphones and an impressive amount of demos to listen to. I pick several CDs based on album covers alone. One of them is an album by a band called Joy Electric. The album cover is solid white, with the name of the band written in a mixture of green letters, candy canes, and red flowers. Go figure. Looked "alternative" enough. I popped the CD in and pressed play. What came through the speakers assaulted every musical sense I possessed at the time. It sounded like a gay British chick singing over Casio-keyboard Nintendo music. I quickly pressed the Stop button and ejected the CD. Definitely a non-purchase.]

.... Chief among them was Starflyer 59. At the time, SF59 could've been considered a "shoegazer" band. ["Shoegazer" rock originated in Great Britain (arguably by the band My Bloody Valentine) in the late 80's, early 90's, and "stayed cool" till about 1997. It was characterized by massive droning "walls of sound" created by the electric guitar (or sampler), overlaid with beautiful, romantic melodies and ethereal, almost whispered, vocals.]

One of SF59's earlier albums, the She's the Queen EP, came out in 1994, my freshman year. One of the tracks on the EP was a remix of the song "Blue Collar Love" by a band called Joy Electric. (Turns out the man behind Joy Electric is the brother of the man behind Starflyer 59). I hated that track at first, and I skipped it all the time. But then one day I listened to it... I really listened to it... And it sounded different. I played the remix again. And again.

And over and over again. It became my favorite song. My favorite song, ever. I didn't understand why... I couldn't understand why... But the song sounded... right. The sounds, the audible textures created by the synthesizers, they sounded... perfect. Every note was perfectly placed, every robot-like noise, every electronic bubble, they were all in perfect resonance, in perfect harmony. The warbling, rumbling bass, the spooky melody, the sampled drum loop... everything seemed to fit.

This astonished me. There I was, devoted to rock and roll, to the rawness and charisma of the electric guitar... and yet I was being swept away by the laser-guided melodies of synthetic groove.

But it wasn't techno. Sure, there were 4/4 beats, and 200 BPM tempos sometimes, but underneath the drum machines and electronic bass-lines were unforgettable and consistantly catchy pop melodies that burrowed like sandworms into your brain.

Back then, around 1994, the Internet hadn't really taken off yet. Mail order was still mostly via catalog. At the time, Tooth and Nail Records (Joy Electric's label) did a really neat thing by packaging catalogs with their CDs, so if you bought one of their CDs from a bookstore, through mail-order, whatever, you had a catalog there to browse through. And they did another really neat thing (for us music idiots) by adding a "Recommended if you like (blank)" beneath the albums being advertised. Through one of the catalogs I ordered the first two Joy Electric albums, Melody and Five Stars for Failure.

...The Melody Years

For two years, that album was my life. I lived and breathed Melody. I studied the electronic textures beat by beat, and memorized every blip, bleep, and boing. Like a monk I transcibed the lyrics by hand while listening to the album at night on my Discman. Where ever I went, I made people listen to it. If they came over, it's all I played for them. "Do you hear the sounds, man? Aren't they awesome? Listen to the melodies! They're so beautiful... so catchy!" Almost no one liked what they heard.

"This sounds like Nintendo music."

"He sounds like a girl."

"It's too... happy."

"There's no guitars."

When my algebra teacher, Mr. Ludwig, found out I was such a huge fan, he did one of the nicest things ever and went out and bought me the now famous Melody-logo Joy Electric t-shirt (my favorite Joy Electric t-shirt of all time, which I still own and wear). I tried to wear that shirt as much as possible, to school, to movies, to the mall, everywhere... I used it as a way to weed out the cool people from the ignorant people. If someone approached me and would say something about my shirt, I'd know they were instantly cool. The sad thing is, no one EVER said anything to me about my shirt. Just, "What's Joy Electric?" Which, of course, gave me the most excellent opportunity to share with them the gospel of synthpop music...

...I Sing Electric

I think the reason why I love Joy Electric so much is because no one else is producing music quite like this. A lot of bands come close, some from the past, some present, but there has never been a musician quite like Ronnie Martin (the frontman behind JE). He's managed to take the best aspects of electronic musis and pop music and fused it with a progressive rock mentality.

I still use Joy Electric as a coolometer. Anybody who's ever heard of, or, more importantly, owns a copy of a Joy Electric album is automatically cool in my eyes. Only people with a certain music aesthetic can appreciate, let on listen to, a full-length JE album. Like any fans of indie bands or underground musicians, we're rabid and tenacious. We'll proselytize on the streets and in your homes; we'll force you to listen to him in our cars; we'll purchase everything Ronnie produces, or is remotely associated with. He could make an album of yukelele nursery rhymes and I'd still probably buy it.

It's been eleven years, and Joy Electric is still going strong. Ronnie Martin is one of the most prolific artists of our time; he pumps out a full-length album about once a year, and fills the time in-between with short-length EPs, singles, and remixes. I'm proud to say I own all but two EPs and one single. My collection boasts two vinyl LPs, a 8" vinyl single, two videos, a hand-written letter from Ronnie himself, numerous pictures from shows, stickers, posters, postcards, and over a dozen albums.

There's something about the Laserboy's synthesized melodies that I find warm, enchanting, and uplifting. They're also very sad. In the end, though, you can consider Joy Electric one of my dearest obsessions.

Gonna be away for a while...

Hey, everyone. Bad news.

I got arrested two nights ago for driving without a license. I'll be going to jail for about six months, so I won't be able to update the blog.

Maybe I can give someone my password, so they can update it for me.

Anyway, I love you all very much, and I'll miss you.

Catching Up

First, I want to apologize for being away for so long. Not much has been happening around here, so I thought I'd write nothing at all than report on the mindless day-to-day drudgery that is my life.

I promised I'd step up the blog posts this month, and I will. Besides, as Matt would say, I just need to write, dammit. How else can I call myself a writer?

Truth is, I've had a couple of personal set-backs and disappoints these past few weeks, and they've come at a time in my life where everyone else seems to be getting their shit together. All around me, friends and co-workers are either hooking up or finally re-discovering their love for themselves. Still others have focused their energies on building their careers or finishing graduate school. And here I am, literally smoldering in envy.

As for the driver's license, I have the money I need to send to the Tennessee Department of Safety. I got insurance through Geico, and they sent Tennessee a copy of my SR-22 on March 17th, but it's going to take roughly 2 weeks for the the Tenn Dept. of Safety to process it upon receipt. As soon as I have confirmation of Tennessee receiving the SR-22 form, I'll overnight the $190 reinstatement fee and the letter of release from Campbell & Campbell to the Dept. of Safety office in Nashville (or was it Knoxville? I can't remember... It's written down here somewhere...) As soon as they reinstate my license down there, Mom will drive me to Columbus, where I have to pay another $30 and show them my SR-22 and letter of release. Once that's finished, and Ohio adjusts me in their computers, I have to go to the DMV office here and Xenia and... drum roll... get my license. That will probably include another fee and possibly a test or two... But by this point, after the lower level of hell I'll have trudged through at this point, nothing will phase me.

All of that to get a driver's license. All because I got into a freakin' accident without liability insurance. (Long story, search the blog if you really want to read about it.) It's insanely frustrating, nerve-wracking, and anxiety-inducing. This is one source of my many, many tribulations (o woe ith me).

Pair that up with this recent trend of girls who've suddenly discovered their independence and revel in the glory of being single. Yeah, it definitely seems like women have surpassed men in a lot of ways, self-empowerment being one of them. I blame Oprah and Sex and the City (among other things) for this. I talk to girls, these young women (18-29), and they're quick to point out that not only do they not need a boyfriend, they don't even want a boyfriend. They're living the good life, clubbing, dancing, weaving drama, dressing up real pretty, doing body shots off hot guys and having drinks bought for them. Men are dogs and women have the pick of the litter. They can waltz in, point a finger at a guy and say to herself, "That's the man I'm going home with tonight." And that's usually exactly what happens. Imagine having that kind of power, guys.

But there's something deeper than that going on here. Maybe I'm totally clueless, hair-brained, blind, delusional, or any number of similar adjectives... But what happened? Women are afraid men will abandon them, so they scurry around, building careers and shields around their heart, convincing themselves that they're happy being alone, they're happy having strings of meaningless relationships with "hot guys", they find fulfilment not in companionship, trust, friendship, and love, but in a solid bank account, expensive clothes, perfume, jewelry, diamonds, Louie Vaton (sp?) purses and endless amounts of shoes. Women enter into relationships already ready to walk away from them at any given moment. How are we supposed to function as men in a scene like that? You're so quick to point out to us that you'd prefer to live alone, that you'd rather stay at home at watch reality TV by yourself, that you horde your privacy, that you attract jerks, that you're been hurt so now you're not ready or willing to open your heart... We're pierced with that barrage of arrows right from the very beginning... And we're left sitting there thinking, "Well, hell, she'd obviously rather do her own thing than be with me, so why bother? This obviously isn't worth it. It would be a waste of my time and (yes, I'm a broke bastard) my money, too."

And no, this hasn't just happened to me once. It's happened several times in the past. Never in my life have I ever witnessed such a paradigm shift. Growing up, all I heard, over and over and over again, from TV shows, movies, books, magazines, gossip, whatever... Guys can't commit. Guys are incapable of commitment. Guys cannot be monogamous. Blah blah blah. I don't know if it was my environment as a teenager and young adult, but me and all my closest guy friends, the six or seven of us who really stuck together through junior high and high school... We were the pathetically hopeless romantics. We were the guys who weren't necessarily desperate for girlfriends, but who, through some unfortunate stroke of chance, ended up with this annoying capacity to like one girl, and just that girl, and be totally content and satisfied. We were stupid and young and wrote goofy love poems. We'd daydream about taking our girls out on dates to nice restaurants downtown, or to music shows, or for long walks on the bridge. We'd make mix tapes for them, hold their hands during basement dates while watching videos. Never once did me or any of my guy friends question their feelings.

It was always the girls who dumped us. Either because we were too nice, or they "weren't ready for a relationship" (altho they always seemed to pop up with a new boyfriend the following week), or they just simply realized they didn't like us like that (funny how you girls always have to make out or fool around with us first before you can figure that crap out). Still, it was always the girls who didn't want to be in a relationship. Why? Because ever since they were little girls, they were constantly told they were pretty, they were beautiful, they were gorgeous, they were cute, and you all know, a beautiful girl gets whatever she wants. And beautiful girls want lots and lots of things.

This continues to today.

I'm not saying it's not good for women to feel independent and self-secure. I'm just saying, don't be afraid to let a man take care of you. Don't be so wrapped up in your own little girl-power world that you can't let your guard down enough to feel true affection and comfort. There are nice guys out there, girls, but if you blaze through them like a Tazmanian Devil hooker drunk on half-priced margaritas, you'll never find them.

...

On a lighter note, this summer is going the best EVER, as far as movies go.

Sin City opens today. From what I've seen of the previews alone, I have a deep feeling this movie is going to devastatingly kick our asses.

Next, you have Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. I saw the previews for this movie, and I almost cried. For once, George Lucas may have gotten something right. I may just forgive him for the sparkling scheizefests that were Episodes I and II.

And then the movie I've been anticipating the most, for the past several years: Batman Begins. I've said over and over again, ever since I saw American Psycho, that Christian Bale should be Batman. And that it should be a movie about his origins, based on the Batman: Year 1 graphic novel by Frank Miller. Proof that God answers prayers came along a year and a half ago when I found out that a) Christian Bale was going to be the new Batman, and b) it was going to be a movie about his origins, based on the Year 1 graphic novel. Talk about wish fulfillment to the Nth degree...

Plus, you've got The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, which looks unutterably fantastic; and then there's Steven Spielberg's War of the Worlds; Johnny Depp's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory; Tim Burton's The Corpse Bride; Fantastic Four... The list goes on and on. I'll be spending a LOT of time at the cineplex this summer.

Coincidentally, I'm taking a vacation in July to drive down to Tennessee. I'm going to gather the tribe and we're all going to watch Batman Begins at The Rave, this new theater in downtown Chattanooga that everyone's freaking out over. I hear it's possibly the coolest movie theater ever.

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I think I might have a project for my blog. I think I'm going to write a blog post for each and every one of my obsessions, possibly to reveal the crazed psyche that exists within this fleshy gray globe of mine, and help me better understand myself. More to come...