Summer is over, the break is over, and I am back in the studio, in theory.

First, a recap of this summer; the 2007 whirlwind tour of west coast weddings. From wine country to LA to multiple trips to Seattle and throw in a family reunion in Idaho for good measure, this was a busy one. The sad fact is that I live in Pasadena, and not once made it to the beach this summer, between all my trips and moving into the new studio, I was just tired when I wasn’t busy, I just veg’d out. I won’t complain, this was an excellent summer–I am just glad that it’s over because I am ready to begin the next chapter.

Now, the title of this little blog. I had a little mishap on the family reunion that was in early July. Those who know me know that I am tall, and as a result have a high center of gravity, and as a result have never really excelled at activities that require keeping my balance. That hasn’t stopped me from trying however, and I have achieved a bit of success at some of these events, the unfortunate price I often pay for success though is injury. I hurt my ankle wakeboarding, or falling, most likely the falling this summer in Idaho that has determined the fate of a great many things.

I don’t want to whine, but I have mentioned earlier how I have determined through experience that my creative self is directly tied to the state of my body. I do not claim to be a hardbody, nor do I actively seek out instances where I endeavor to take my shirt off, God determined when he built me that I would be a shirt on type of person unless I dedicate my life to the gym and chicken breasts. I like beer. However, when healthy I do spend a few hours a week at the gym to keep my head clear, and while my ankle hasn’t prohibited me from hitting the weights, it has from doing my ultimate head clearing excersize: spinning.

I can attribute my last album to spinning and the exhaustion which causes a renewing of the mind that follows every properly attacked class. I need to purge the noise before my head can make music. The result of my inability to do this has been a few very frustrating weeks. My physical therapist has yet to clear me, but I am about to defy him to get back to being productive in the lab. It’s odd, but I don’t understand how an artist can be fat, maybe one can find creativity through diabetes, I am just not one of them.

The ankle will heal and I will get back to it, in the meantime I need to find a way to purge the noise that accumulates between my sessions in the studio. If not, I guess I just need to start renting it out.

I hope the Sonics leave Seattle, it will give me freedom from the oppression that has become the league that I once loved. No competition, just dirty efficiency that is the San Antonio Spurs is what the NBA has become. If someone can go Alamo on the ugly, dirty, boring, effed up piece of crap team that is the Spurs, maybe I will watch.

The Warriors were just an ugly reminder of what it used to be.

I hate the NBA, David Stern has destroyed what he built.

I hate the NBA.

I hope Bruce Bowen’s headstone says, “My lack of ability and dirty play helped destroy a sport.”

I hate the NBA.

I hope Mangina Ginobili’s headstone says, “I brought all of the bad aspects of soccer and none of the good ones to the NBA and helped destroy a sport. Flopped like a bigger vagina than Divaks could ever hope for.”

I hate the NBA.

I hope Tim Duncan’s headstone says, “I could have been remembered as one of the greatest players ever, but my mump cheeks and whining ruined my legacy and helped destroy a sport.”

I hate the NBA.

I hope Tony Parker’s headstone says, “I am only known for marrying Eva Longoria and was divorced once I retired and I helped ruin a sport.”

I hate the NBA.

Gregg Popovich will be remembered as the crater faced douchebag who helped pilot the biggest group of whiners and the most boring and hateable dynasty in sports history. Gregg, thank you for ruining the league I once loved.

The NBA is not basketball.

Naismith should kick Popovich and Stern’s ass. I long for time travel.

I hate the NBA.

If one thing that Saturday morning cartoons can teach anyone, it’s that kids have notoriously bad taste. While it could be argued that people in general have bad taste, almost no one can argue that kids like the stupidest things. Also sentimental attachments to things one saw as a kid can transcend and somewhat overwrite your current adult taste to where you still like the stupid stuff. I love the movie Red Dawn because I loved it as a kid (and I REALLY hate Soviets), however, if an adult is asked to see that movie cold, they will invariably find it numbingly retarded.

I bring this up because I have been on a Lionel Richie kick as of late. Some kids liked Kids Incorporated, others liked the Mickey Mouse club, I loved Lionel Richie. I remember sitting in the front seat of my aunt and uncle’s new Buick Regal begging for the tape (my dad refused to listen to Lionel), I remember the feeling of the hair standing up on my deck during the intro of “All Night Long” when the delay hits the line “Let the music playo” and it still does. I never said I was normal.

The rub here lies in that I actually think Lionel Richie’s solo stuff is good. There is solid songwriting, great production, and his voice is excellent. When compared to today’s pop, it’s very good. I have to admit that it spits cheese at you, and his music videos are downright embarrassing, all culminating with the worst bust of a head ever put to celluloid, but I don’t understand the violent reaction I get when I listen to it.

People have literally thrown Advil capsules at my head when listening to Lionel, those hurt. My love of 80′s pop goes far beyond Lionel and I attribute that to a happy childhood. One of the nice things about being large and mean looking is that you don’t really have to explain yourself when your iPod playlist is populated by Nena, Lionel, Wang Chung, A Flock of Seagulls and others. However, for some reason A Flock of Seagulls is considered kind of cool and Lionel is not when Lionel bests them at nearly every aspect of the music.

I have just realized that I dedicated a few hundred words to broadcast my love for Lionel Richie, but I have nothing to be ashamed of. Yes, I love Lionel, and you have to admit there is something worthy in there somewhere. I guess my point is that maybe Lionel does suck and I just loved it as a kid because kids are stupid and the previous paragraphs were nothing but rationalizations to defend my love for Lionel. However, as I mentioned before, I am large, I like Lionel, if you want to talk about it, too bad, because I will be too busy dancing on the ceiling. I think I am going to watch Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome now. Maybe I need to go on a Tina Turner kick.

First of all, Imus got what he deserved, this was simply the straw that broke the camels back, and those, the hypocrites that used his show for gain simply turned on him when they thought it would benefit them. They will also return to him when he undoubtedly gets a new gig. This will simply be a blip in the radar and simply just one of those situations where people stumbled over each other to decry him first to prove they are the most enlightened. However, what this is, is simply another example of the free market of speech devouring the deserving.

I will say the media backlash on this whole affair has been astounding. It’s been everywhere, and while what he said was most definitely wrong, it did not deserve this much media scrutiny when we are fighting two wars, paying buttloads for gas, and are being governed by the most inept administration since the 19th century. Bush makes Hoover seem capable competent, but I digress. The real truth about all of this is that it highlights that in a free society in the market of speech, there are rules that must be followed and certain people don’t seem to understand that.

Furthermore, the market is much more unforgiving than it used to be because things simply won’t go away if the market is still able to feed. 10 years ago, the Imus gaffe would not have snowballed like it does today. However, the market is forgiving of hip hop saying the same because it’s expected of them, and frankly, rappers aren’t old white dudes. They get a free pass because the market understands that moaning about a hip hop song won’t silence anything, it will help sales. This most likely will happen with Imus as well, as he moves to satellite with little oversight.

So the market did its job. Whenever anyone brings up the FCC regarding this affair, that causes me to cringe. The federal government should not being dictating thought. Profanity and obvious obscenities should not be broadcasted over the air for anyone to hear. But bad jokes and bigotry do not and should not need to be regulated, especially when the market is apt to regulate itself in this manner.

Freedom of speech simply means you won’t be arrested for saying stupid stuff, it doesn’t shield you from a self regulating market of thought, a market that occasionally works very well.

Few things are more frustrating than a creativity block due to burnout. I am burned out. Last year was a great year for growth, but as a result, I have never slowed down and have been trying to continue at the same pace, but am failing miserably. I need to let my creative muscle recover, something I have not done for a long time. Therefore, I am going on a composition break.

I have the roots already done for my next album, and I really like where it’s going, but I have hit a fairly significant brick wall and can’t seem to progress. I have always been scared that slowing down and destroying momentum will cause me to regress to my fat 2005 form, but I don’t think that is the case because I will have to let that happen. But currently, I need to refocus on other aspects of life that I have neglected the last year and a half. I can’t even seem to intelligently blog right now.

I need experience to spawn creativity, and my stores of creativity seem to be exhausted. That is not surprising considering my life has consisted of working, working out, and writing music while half-heartidly attempting a social life, that frankly due to having excellent friends, can continue without trying. However, when I do hang out with my friends, I get this guilt that I am not working on music because I feel I have a finite time because at 27, I am already over the hill and need to get my stuff out now. I seem to forget that I don’t do pop music, so that doesn’t really matter.

Therefore, I am going musically AWOL for a little while. The goals I laid out for this year are going to be modified. I am not going to finish another album by summer.

I am going to have fun and enjoy the next few months. I am going to start dating again, and I am going to not be so work oriented for a while. I know that once I get into this, my ideas will begin to spring up again, and I will become a human being again. I am looking forward to the next couple of months.

It is odd how living life with blinders on seems to make you forget why you set off on the journey in the first place. The blinders are coming off, and it’s time to start looking around again. Inspiration will return when I remember that I am alive and have feelings. My last album was full of feeling because I was processing the last three years of life. I am going to live life now, and I will tell you about it not only is subsequent blogs, but in future music. Life will cure my burnout, and break the block.

Writers block is the most annoying sensation that I regularly experience in my life. The odd thing is that it’s usually not a full on block, it should be renamed, ‘Good Writing Block.’

I write this right now because I am laying on the floor with a laptop on my belly typing this as I stare up at an open session in ProTools trying to come up with lyrics. The song, as in the music bed for vocals is pretty much done, and frankly, I love the song and I have a hope for the song. I already have the female vocalist in mind who I will track with, but the lyrics are killing me.

It is a dance track, but it has acoustic drums playing a house four on the floor beat. One of my goals for my next album is to incorporate more of a rock sound because both rock and dance are fairly stagnant right now, so I am going for kind of a hybrid that both sides will probably reject–but that is beside the point. The acoustic kit sounds massive and with the electronic elements I think I have something going here. One of my friends jokes that all of my tracks makes him want to climb a mountain or go jogging, and I take that as a compliment, and this one is no different, it’s over the top. It’s joyful, it’s a fun song, but my lyrics right now sound as if someone just put my junk in a grinder.

I am not depressed, I am happy, but everything I have written suggests otherwise. When I wrote this song, my inspiration was a Giorgio Moroder penned Donna Summers song called ‘I Feel Love.’ I love the soaring vocals over the sequenced ARP and while the song really doesn’t sound like ‘I Feel Love’ it does have a very busy music bed that I want the vocals to float over. However, I am going syllable crazy. I am jamming depressing existential lyrics that are way too busy.

I will explain something right now. I am scared of writing pure dance songs because they are cheesy. Trance murdered itself with the level of cheese it packed into songs (What is a castle in the sky anyway?) much the way disco did. I firmly believe a dance song can have meaning. William Orbit accomplished this with Madonna’s Ray of Light album, and Moby has from time to time as well. I am trying to write a song that goes beyond a floating ethereal vocal.

However, I can’t even seem to write cheese, it is all or nothing with the depression here. Maybe it’s because I can’t seem to write songs about nothing even if they aren’t cheesy, and when I write a song about how I feel, it comes out complicated and confused. Maybe it’s because I am trying to write a relational tune, and I haven’t had a relationship in like 3 years. Frankly, I have never written a relational song that didn’t have some horrible ironic twist, which is pretty indicative of every relationship I have ever been in.

Maybe I just need a girlfriend.

NO! ::banging head against floor::

Heterosexuality can be a drag….

A recent article came out in Newsweek and makes the possible assertion that cardiovascular workouts may indeed make one smarter and the flip side is living a sedentary lifestyle may increase brain loss. Besides destroying the whole myth of the dumb jock (who are probably considered ‘dumb’ because they were coddled academically and therefore never learned) it has serious ramifications on society and the dumbing down of America. There was one serious question that was not addressed and is paramount–are we getting dumber because we’re getting fatter?

The fact that American’s are fat is not up for debate. The fact that American’s are stupider may illicit somewhat of an argument, but most people can see that is the case. We are also lazier, there seems to be a pattern here.

Western civilization was not only founded on thought, but the Greeks considered the body and its upkeep an integral part of the equation. Contrary to the BMI that your average church may suggest, taking care of ones body (and that doesn’t mean abstaining from stuff, except maybe that doughnut on Sunday morning) is also an important part of the Christian faith. The same with many other world religions. Is it any wonder that the seeming decline of our society can be tied to our bloating waistlines?

At the end of 2005 I was overweight and frankly miserable. I had a decent job, a nice car, a bright future, but I was far from happy, then I made a decision, I was going to work out again. The subsequent events of that decision made 2006 an incredible year, and I firmly believe 2006 would not have been the same had it not been for getting in shape. Before Third Stage would not exist had I not gotten in shape.

When I am sedentary and not active, my music sucks, I am borderline depressed (not the creative kind), generally feel dumber, but am hyper at the same time. Essentially (and this has been proven), when one works out their cardiovascular system, the hormones released into your body are essentially equivalent hormones that equal small doses of Ecstasy, Ritalin and Prozac. That sounds like a very interesting high. Also it has been proven that your brain also reconnects neurons. You get all of this, plus the added blood flow gives your body more oxygen and an oxygen high.

I am not naive enough to say that working out is all peachy because it is often painful and an annoyance, but what if instead of drugging themselves people just hopped on a treadmill? You get the same hormones as drugs, get smarter, and the only real side effect is looking better. That sounds like a good prescription and who knows, maybe we’ll figure some things out with our new toned minds.

I will be honest in saying that the first time around when I wrote this column, I avoided political discourse like the plague. Everyone who knows me, knows that I have actively avoided this topic whenever it comes up in conversation, and it’s not just because last time I involved myself in politics I talked people into voting for Bush in 2000 (I had no idea–I am sorry.). It’s basically because nothing good usually comes from it. Essentially, all it does is frustrate people, and people leave the table angry with no opinions changed. Engaging in political discussion is often a selfish endeavor because it’s simply an excuse to have an ‘I have read more’ pissing contest. However, something has been bugging me lately that is kind of forcing my rant bone. It stems from the fight over global warming and it can be summed up in the following statement–I don’t care if global warming or climate change is real, there are other very tangible reasons to cease destroying the planet and most of them are absolutely selfish and have nothing to do with Polar Bear habitat.

Reasonable capitalists, Republicans, Christians, Democrats and Pagans can all agree that we need petroleum, transportation, inexpensive goods, good health and a sustainable economy. I am not redefining the wheel here or stating anything that requires a Harvard education. But for some reason when the term ‘climate change’ is introduced into the equation, all sides lose their minds.

Crazy Evangelical Christians begin to fight over the right to rape the planet because the term ‘global warming’ comes from dirt worshiping liberals who are inherently evil and didn’t read the part in the Bible about dominion over the animals (While neglecting to read the part in the Bible about taking care of the place themselves.).

Democrats and the enlightened proud pagans think we can go cold turkey because the ones who need our current dirty energy are just backward simpleton morons (Then they hop in their Prius on the way to their private jet.).

Right Wing Republicans default to defending the status-quo because they are getting rich and of course they know the default position of the intellectual hippies is to have their alarmist heads up their behinds crying wolf in a fit of financial jealousy (While they ignore their current mode of wealth is absolutely unsustainable).

To reiterate, climate change should not be the issue, it should be laid out pragmatically. It does not matter if climate change exists, here is reality–we cannot change overnight because destroying our economy would be a rather large calamity. However, we cannot do nothing because our current way of life is unsustainable whether or not it destroys the environment, our economy will collapse and everyone will be screwed. Humans, all ‘sane’ humans regardless of where they lie on the spectrum wants a comfortable and safe life for their families. Finding middle ground and trying to clean up our act is the only way to accomplish this and who cares if Al Gore is full of shit.

Rewarding Al Gore’s powerpoint with an Oscar does nothing but further alienate middle America from the debate just as rewarding the Dixie Chicks will do nothing to help them sell albums to their former fans in Texas. If anything, it will discourage them from doing so. There is a disconnect between the right and the left that stems from a pride in the way of life and a lack in trying to understand the other’s side. Californians need to admit that someone in Texas may actually have a brain that has been through a valid education and Texans need to admit that some Californians aren’t simply lazy over-educated hippies with no real world experience.

Perhaps we could have a therapy session wherein people like me, the west coast raised city dweller could admit to the middle American that I don’t know how to farm, but I enjoy eating and appreciate what they do (BTW, for the sake of semantics, I consider eastern Washington and the California central valley to part of middle America). Then the middle American could admit to us that computers and technology developed out here actually make their lives easier and they enjoy the money this economy makes that empowers them to feed us. Then we can collectively hug and agree to stop destroying the Earth. We can all dream can’t we?