Only in Amer-ica (you know how it's said)

Americans live in an unrivaled state of opportunity.  We have the world at our fingertips.  I love that.

From time to time I do get a little frustrated with the state of this country, and now and again I do find myself thinking, " Come on reeeeally America?", but I can never take away the great land of opportunity.

We have afforded the ability to want nice things... to enjoy the nicer things in life... to be choosers and not beggars, right?

And this is why Americans have it good.  The other day I had just finished dinner and began walking around Indianapolis.  I walk through an alley I'm familiar with (it's near where I work) and I see the "American-Dream" right in front of me.  I couldn't quite understand what I was looking at but it didn't matter, it was happening. There he was in all his glory, a homeless guy drinking Corona with a lime in it.

It's not every day you get to enjoy this kind of present from above.  I was most amazed by the fact that he was 3 beers into the 6 pack of Corona and each beer on the ground had a lime in it!

Corona is about $9 for a 6 pack, give or take where you're purchasing it.  He could have bought a lot more alcohol for the money he spent on that beer. That homeless George Hamilton decided on taste over sensation... or even frugalness... or maybe someone gave him them?  Either way it was hilarious and he was simply in heaven... or he was drinking beer and getting wasted alone in an alley.

I don't know, but God bless Amer-ica.

Good Music in Movies

I have decided to take my entry for todays post in a differet direction.  I have been thinking (a lot) about music and movies and the way the two corrilate so well (some of the time). Sometimes I can't listen to a song without thinking of a particular movie.  So, I will write my all time top 20 songs in movies.

20.  The Pixies - Where Is My Mind : Fight Club

19.  Clint Mansell - Lux Aeterna : Requiem for a Dream

18.  Guster - I Hope Tomorrow is Like Today : Wedding Crashers

17.  311 - Love Song : 50 First Dates

16. Herman's Hermits - Something Tells Me I'm Into Something Good: The Naked Gun : From the Files of Police Squad

15. Jeff Buckley - Last Goodbye : Vanilla Sky

14. Massive Attack - Angel : Snatch

13. Weezer - Suzanne : Mallrats

12. The Cowsills - The Rain, The Park and Other Things : Dumb and Dumber

11. Nico - These Days : The Royal Tenenbaums

10. Elliott Smith - Because : American Beauty

9. Radiohead - Talk Show Host: Romeo & Juliet

8. Soggy Bottom Boys & Danny Timinski - I am a Man of Constant Sorrow : O Brother, Where Art Thou?

7. The Beatles - Twist and Shout : Ferris Bueller's Day Off

6.  Rufus Wainwright - Hallelujah : Shrek

5.  The Wonders - That Thing You Do : That Thing You Do

4.  Seal - Kissed by a Rose : Batman Forever

3.  Bobby Brown - On Our Own : Ghostbusters II

2.  Whitney Houston - I Will Always Love You : The Body Guard

1.  Audrey Hepburn -  La vie en Rose  : Sabrina

Let the discussion begin.

Drink Up

People are a fickle sort.  Boasting about like proud bucks.  They doe lie there waiting listening to lies, impressed merely by the bucks vocal endowment.

The herd moves in circles looking for a mate, the scent is in the air.  The many come and seek a drink, whilst seldom coming prepared with thirst.  The herd looks ready, it's time to strike, but the herd is no match. 

The stag they seek is not quite stagnant, and move with much quicker feet. This herd hates the weak and leave them there to fend.

In the end the herd was playing a simple game.  As natural and real as it might seem, just to find it was merley a simple game of catch.

Fight Fire with Fire or Louder Bass

It's been a fun filled week at the Camp/Whiting household.  We've both found ourselves fighting for control of, dun-dun-duuuuuh (dramatic scary music... you know the type), silence.  Better yet, a battle of who can be the loudest, with our very own new kids on the block.

Last weekend a young couple moved in the split duplex attached to our house, and with them they brought their lovely children.  I don't mind the children's constant crying or really how loud the kids are in general.  However there is something I do mind.

I love hip-hop as most people know.  In fact just last night I was listening to Talib, Mos and The Roots... at a reasonable level in my room.  I say this because after a day of moving the couple next door decides to play Drake (who I can't stand) as loudly as I'm assuming they possibly could at 12:45am!  Who does that?  I'm  thinking to myself, they're probably trying to relax and chill after a long day of moving so I'll let it go.  Or should I say, they let it go, and go, and go until 5am! I don't mind too much though.  I have enough trouble sleeping so why not add loud bass to the mix.

The next day roles around and at roughly 9am the music starts again.  I'm thinking, not only did you only sleep 4 hours, but you can't do anything with out music playing.... loudly!  I go over to knock on the door and ask them if they would turn it down, no answer at the door.  So I knock harder, and same exact result.  They're ignoring me.  It's ok though.  They're probably still moving stuff.  Understandable, I can deal with it.

Let us flash forward to last night.  It's been a week.  The music constantly thumping and my head following right behind.  I am getting ready to watch Sunday Night Football.  My Cowboys are playing against the Dead-Skins.  I'm getting pumped.  The pre-game show has started, I have my longhorns belt-buckle on, I'm 3 Sam Adam's Oktoberfest into it and my Dallas Cowboy D-hat (like Tony) on ready to go... aaaaand it begins.  The music is turned up to an ungodly volume.  The kind that shook the whole house.  I have to turn the tv up as loud as possible just to hear it.  It's on.

I continue to watch the game and it's fine.  Not the best result and the music was eventually done before the game and I settled.  Irritated and obviously distraught I came up with a plan.

Everybody hates Mondays.  No one wants their weekend to end, let a lone wake up early.  Let's help these noise-nazis love their Monday.

It's been a long held tradition of mine to vacuum at 7:21 in the morning ever Monday... or at least for about 8 hours.  Also, for about that same time-frame, I will listen to 311 - 311 (self titles) and Deftones - White Pony as loudly as I can.  Obviously, so I can hear it over the vacuum, duh.

Many of you might find this to be petty and immature.  Believe me it is.

I have taken all measure possible before sinking to this barbaric and juvenile gorilla tactic.  I've called the landlord.  Nothing.  I've tried to get a hold of the neighbors.  Nothing.  At some point we must protect ourselves... or in this case be a complete and utter ass.

I feel no remorse for my actions.  If need be I'll pull out the big guns;  NIN, Tool, and Busta Rhymes.  I'm hoping it doesn't come to that, but if it does, I will have the cleanest carpets in all of Indianapolis.

A Love Story

Let's just start off by saying I am a sucker for love.  I see a puppy and I love it.  I hear a funny joke and I love it.  I am easily swept off my feet (granted I'm terribly uncoordinated) and find myself fumbling around once again. 

The funny thing is I have known of this love for a while.  I have thought about it and set it aside, thinking it was a curious infatuation or maybe intrigue at best.  I could not have been more wrong. I thought to myself, this can't work.  The distance between us is far to great and I can't go with out seeing you like this.  I have done the long distance relationship thing before and I am not made for that. But maybe this time it could be different?

I have known for awhile that I can not fight how I feel any longer.  I keep trying to ignore my heart but it keeps beating harder and harder.  As I wait and wait, I find out that you have come closer, you are so close to me. I don't want to love you only through our convenience!  But your taste so damn good Panda Express and I never want to let you go!

Good Friends...a Cigar...a Bum...and Handcuffs

I would like to think I have an appreciation for the finer things in life.  I love a good cigar, a good scotch-whisky or bourbon and nice clothes.  The only thing that could make that combination better, would be good company.  Sometimes I'm just lucky enough to have all of those.  This weekend would offer that kind of luck.

This past weekend I was attending a close friend's wedding.  It was a beautiful wedding.  Everyone was looking great.  People were laughing, catching up and enjoying the short time we had with one another.  I had a few cigars I had bought from earlier in the night, and I naturally asked a few guys if they wanted to step outside.  They couldn't turn it down.

We excused ourselves from the reception and sat at a table outside.  I set my double old fashion glass down and begin to light my cigar.  We sit there for a while, exchanging pleasantries and begin reminiscing about the past.  A older gentleman walks towards us and he locks eyes with me... he's coming over... he wants money.  He was homeless and wanted to talk to us.  Actually, to be more accurate, he wanted to tell us jokes.

He walks up and says, " Hey fellas, my name is Greg, and I'm not a bum.  I work for my money.  So here's the thing, how's about I tell you 3 jokes I made up and if you guys like'm you give me a dollar?"  My friend Shane says, " Let me warn you buddy, these two guys (points to Justin and myself) know every joke, so you better have funny ones."  Greg turns to him and says, " I guaranty you'll laugh.  I made'm up and they good."  I tell him, " Old Gory (that's what his shirt said), I got a better deal, you tell us a joke and  I'll tell one after you, and if mine is funnier than yours, you owe me a dollar."  He said, "No problem" and proceeded to tell the joke.

"Alright guys, what do 5 black guys call an old white man?"  Not a single second goes by before Justin spouts out, "Coach!... get the hell out of here bro!"  We lost it.  I understand this is a homeless guy.  I understand that we were sitting there while he wanted something.  I also understand he lied about making up a joke... thus they laughter.

So I turn to the guy and tell my joke.  "Two gerbils are walking by a gay bar.  One gerbil turns to the other and says, ' Hey, you wanna get wasted tonight?' The other gerbil turns to the other one and says, 'I don't know, you feel like getting shit-faced?'"  The guys lost it.  I told him, "You owe me a dollar my friend."  He walked away.

Everything was back to normal and my friends and I are enjoying ourselves once again.  Suddenly there is a Dept. Sheriff walking towards us in mid-conversation.  My friend Justin turns to him, as if he was coming to join our conversation and says, " What did Michael Jackson die from?"  The officer says, "I have no clue.  What was going on with the guy you were talking to?  What was he doing?"  We all said he was just trying to tell jokes and get money.  The officer than says, " That's not the story he's telling me."  My friend Blake says, " What is he saying?"  The officer says, " He says he gave you guys some stuff?"  Shane says, "Like drugs?"  I say, " You're joking right?  The only thing he gave us was a lesson on why we shouldn't do drugs.  Not to mention, if I was going to buy drugs, do you honestly think I would buy them from a bum?"  The officer turned to me and said, "That's a good point.  Have a nice night guys."  And he walks away.

Later I would find out the bum was caught smoking crack next to where we were and told the Dept. that we bought some of his crack from him.

This was only the beginning of one of the craziest nights of my life.

It's always fun to enjoy good company, good drinks, good cigars and great stories... aaaaand the occasional bum who lies about selling drugs, while telling bad jokes to a group of old friends at a wedding reception.

Shiny Happy People Holding Hands?

I've been lucky enough to live in the "beautiful" city of Indianapolis for quite sometime now.  It's a comfortable city, with little to nothing to do most of the time.  Everyone has  the same routines, everyone says the same thing and just about everyone is wearing some form of Colt's fan-garb on a daily basis.  It's just another Midwest city with Midwest personality. 

One thing I have always loved about this area is the lack of diversity you see in the city.  Not that there are not multi-ethnic people groups or social classes, because Indianapolis has an enormous amount of international influence and personality.  But with all differences there is still a stylistic similarity.   Everyone looks like a "Hoosier"... except a few.

This leads me to my point.  I was walking around Monument Circle the other evening when low-and-behold I see it.  I forgot they even exist.  I was wondering how it could be possible, but quickly I dismissed that notion and began observing.  Yes, you guessed it; two (count'em two!) orange-tan, fake-n-bake, rub on/spray tanners during Summer!

What causes this phenomena?  Here's the most impressive part, it was a husband and wife.  They both wake up every day thinking, "I'm so glad I married this Oompa-Loompa."  They glowed down the street in the setting sun like two ripe pumpkins waiting for Cinderella's magical transformation.

As  they walked along I couldn't help but think to myself, "How does this happen?  How can people like this or make an effort to do this?"  It created quite a problem for me.  Why do we do these things to ourselves?  I wanted to sit and laugh, but I couldn't.  We are all guilty.  No matter how much we might love something, someone else will look at it with the cool deep disdain of a bankrupt Ebenezer Scrooge.

I know we can't expect to hold back all the time.  Sometimes we see those shiny (literally) happy people walking around and our initial reaction is to laugh but maybe our first reaction should be, observe or ignore or forget?... who am I kidding, when you have orange skin, it's always laugh!

The Storm

I hear the sound of thunder crashing closely to the earth, I witness new creations, like flowers blooming in new birth. I cast a million stones across an endless sea of black, the stones will land submersed in sand halting their attack.


I hear the sound of thunder crashing and I’m no longer there, the water stained shadow of someone drenched in my chair. The forecast calls for rain today as it did the year before, strong winds will blow and before you’ll know, you’re soaked down to your core.

I hear the sound of thunder crashing faintly in my ear. I see it’s time the storms will pass but slowly, sticking near. I feel the moisture of the ground in every step I’ve found, I see regret in leaves unset strewed across the storm trodden ground.

I hear the sound of thunder crashing softly in my mind. I remember storms of epic scale still locked up and confined. I see the wreckage lying there as useless as before. I turn my head and look instead, to the storm outside my door.