It’s strange, I work on computers all day and my wrist doesn’t hurt until I come home and use my own computer setup. Then it hurts like a mofo. Two months of this and you’d think I’d go and have it checked out by now, huh? Well, you are wrong. I’m almost a quarter of a century and I don’t think I like this whole body degenerating thing already. I probably should go get it checked out before my entire right hand becomes useless.
In other unrelated news, I went to see The Simpsons movie, courtesy of my good friend Mandy. As an early birthday gift, we went to the Studio Movie Grill in Addison and enjoyed the movie along with pizza and drinks. I really don’t like going to the theaters but I’ll go to the Studio Movie Grill anytime because for $8 I can get a pizza, not just two boxes of Sour Patch Kids. Anyway, the movie was better than I thought and the atmosphere egged on more laughs. For any fan, I’d recommend seeing it at least once, although my brother’s bitterness towards the newer Simpsons seasons may keep him from giving it a chance. I plan on going to the Kwik-E-Mart in Dallas soon.
Welp, better get to bed, tomorrow is another day of Transform which I’m sure I’ll post about sometime. I’ve been once and it was pretty awesome-o.
I’m a sucker for lists, especially at the end of the year. This is subject to change, but here are a few of my top lists. Feel free to send me suggestions, it’s not an easy thing keeping track of all the movies and music that come out each year! Read more »
Do you remember that scene in Shawshank Redemption when Tim Robbins’s character locks a guard in the bathroom so he could play a record of some lady singing opera over the prison loudspeakers? I remember thinking it was weird that everyone stopped and listened to it like it was something amazingly beautiful. I mean, it was opera in a foreign language, right?
But the right music at the right time, no matter what, is something amazingly beautiful.
I think that’s what happened the other day. I had the best five-hour drive I can remember Sunday afternoon. At the end of the drive, I said, “I think that is the fewest words I’ve ever said to anyone on a road trip that long.” I almost sounded like I was complaining. But my friend’s reply caught me off guard. Maybe because what she said was true and I just hadn’t realized it yet. To sum it up in her words, it was just “chill.” To elaborate, it was the shortest five-hour drive that consisted of two best friends and some amazingly beautiful music. Jimmy Eat World, mind you. We listened to and sang those songs like they were our songs, each and every word meaningful. She was right. We didn’t need to chit chat. Music was enough for us.
As a songwriter, this phenomenon is even more mind-blowing when you take this all in. I haven’t collaborated with many other writers, but as far as my personal process goes, it always starts from where it counts. A song without heart seems like a waste of perfectly good melodies and chords. I’d like to think a good majority of songwriters do write from the heart. This process takes time. Sometimes five minutes, sometimes a year. But the crazy mind-blowing part is knowing that each and every lyric will keep doing its work far after it’s left its origin. That’s an amazing aspect of music. And to me, it’s almost a responsibility that what I may write today will land in someone’s ear five months from now. But I guess I’ve never written for myself. I don’t write to hear myself sing and I don’t expect to make any money out of it. In fact, I think many songwriters blow more money to make music than make money sometimes. But after hearing a few random comments about my music lately, it just reminds me that music is an amazingly beautiful thing and it’s worth it all. Songs that I wrote years ago are now falling upon ears that are greeting my lyrics and my melodies with open arms today. Crazy.
I’m glad to always be a part of this amazingly beautiful thing called music whether I’m screaming the chorus to Jimmy Eat World’s 23 aloud in my car with my best friend or staying up past midnight to find the right chords to finish off that perfect chorus. The best part about it is that everyone is a part of it too.
If you know me at all, I really don’t enjoy going to the movie theaters. You pay almost $10 to spend 2 hours to see a movie that might be amazing or might just suck. Since I suffer from technologically-induced ADD and don’t really care for cookie cutter movie plots, going to the movie theater can be painful. But I joined Blockbuster Online earlier this year and enjoy their large selection. I usually go for the TV series.
Anyway, I get two free in-store coupons that I often forget about. I like to do a little research before I go to Blockbuster and hit rottentomatoes and imdb. This time ’round, I decided to check out 40-Year Old Virgin (ok, I enjoy a good funny movie) and Murderball. I had seen previews for Murderball awhile back, but forgot about it. While I was hitting rottentomatoes, I saw this being rated extremely well. Plus, it’s a documentary. So, heck yeah, I picked it up.
It’s good. It’s not just an awkward movie about guys in wheelchairs. It’s got edge and it’s got heart. And I guess I decided a major deciding factor on whether or not I like a movie is if it’s got great character development. There’s plenty of guys in there to get to know and cheer for. And it’s a documentary so it’s real. Real people with real stories that include conflict, hope, and resolution.
So if you liked Super Size Me, chances are you’ll enjoy Murderball. Or salads.
