Stephan Jenkins, where have you gone?

As I traveled out of my twenties, I left behind many experiences and occurrences which will remain exciting memories, but memories nonetheless. The days of synthetic trances and thought provoking, smoke-filled rooms of enhanced understanding are becoming incredibly few and far between. Life progresses... Enter the world of corporations, 401Ks, and responsibility. And, although the world, at times, can really grab you by the balls, those of us that are still are alive inside must learn to perpetuate the magic. Must keep on hearing the beautiful music....

So go on, turn on the radio, and listen to the music. What's the matter? Lady Gaga not doing it for you? Miley Cyrus not really sending blood to the places it should? Jonas Brothers make you want to tear your fucking face off? Believe me, i understand each and every single sentiment. Today's radio and music is so incredibly lacking of soul and creativity - and it doesn't look to be getting any better.

I came into my own during the times of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and the rest of that 90s scene. The music was new and fresh, and it was damn good. But, beyond the sound, there was this depth to the lyrics and this passion in the writing that would allow me to completely adhere to the music. It wasn't about just shaking my head to a great beat, or a clever hook that was catchy and easy to remember, it was about the artist allowing us to come along for a ride. A journey through their experiences, their impressions, and most poignantly, their pains...I have often said that the more damaged and fragile an individual, the more brilliant their music. And, I still live by this today.

And, when it comes to damaged individuals, I'm fairly certain that San Francisco's own, Stephan Jenkins takes the cake. Coming onto the scene after the major swell of the grunge wave, Third Eye Blind gifted us with what I believe to be one of the best albums ever. To this day, I listen, and remain impressed by the brilliant poetic writing, clearly created from the darkest areas of this man's heart and soul. This guy's apparent anguish and turmoil has been a major gift and blessing for us all, and it is because of this that I raise a big middle finger to the likes of all the bullshit that is American Idol and similar vehicles. The raising and cultivation of these young teenager stars, and the endless force-fed mainstream perpetuation is killing the music industry...and it is killing me.

A true artist must live through something...something...fucking anything for that matter. And I will be damned if I allow Ryan Seacrest, KISS FM, and Z-100 to reshape my musical views in their efforts to blur my lines of raw authenticity. For me it is pretty simple...a quiet room, a car, or headphones...music on...eyes closed. When I focus again on the world around, if I haven't felt like I just took a drug induced ride through wonderland, and I'm not working to wipe away the goosebumps from my chilled arms, well then...my friend...you have failed.

Luckily, it isn't all lost...but it is never easy. Bands like Kings and 30 seconds have struggled like mad to create a following, and its finally starting to pay off. And, there are still bands coming onto the scene that will blow your fucking doors off - but I promise you, Ryan Seacrest does not know who they are. And, I really hope it stays that way because nothing really worth it comes to you - there is a hunt involved...happy hunting everyone....

A Little Help From Jim Morrison

Ever since some professional decisions have left me with some time on my hands, I have been able to really refocus my life. With my old job, I was a complete frantic mess, always pissed off at the world, and always had something I was late for. These two nuances of life alone, were more than enough to stifle any creativity, love, and beauty that lied within. I had become a shell of myself. I just figured this shift was a fact of life as true as death and taxes...something not to be questioned or toyed with. I had a plan, I was executing, and I was on my way. On my way... On my way to somewhere that had gotten me so far away from where I began. The more I achieved, the less I knew how to do, and the more worthless I felt. Because you see, my business was that of bullshit. Plain and simple. Nothing tangible, nothing real to show, nothing more than some numbers on a screen next to my name, and a promise of future utilization.

With every day since the end of that situation, I grow more and more alive. I look around at the world, with an eye for beautification, and a yearning desire to restore and create. I have written...I have built...and I have found my smile.

Yes, there is that question of money. And there is that unknowing fear that resides in the back of your head, ever so slightly whispering those words of inevitability. I know this time in my life will not last, and I am at peace with it for at least i know this part of my being and my soul is still there.

Yesterday in the warm sun of southern California, I decided to restore my ailing porch furniture. With my shirt off, and my iPod on, I remembered what it was like to create something beautiful. Something I could stand back from in the end, wearing only a torn pair of jeans and smile, and say "that's right...I fucking did that." No corporate bullshit, no deadlines, no one telling you what you are or aren't. Just a finished product in the end that screams and sparkles success.

And, I know that is nothing tremendous, as it was only porch furniture. But somewhere between sanding off the old, and staining on the new, I was overcome with such emotion that only the son of a hard working father could understand. For a few moments the world just blurred out, and the music of Jim Morrison and the Doors fueled a photojournalistic journey through my life and childhood. With each sanded stroke I could see the pure magic of this moment, I could see my father working on our boat, the house, or whatever project lay before him. I could see the tenderness in his face, and the strength in his hands, and I had never before been so proud to be his son.

When the night sky began to fall, and I was finishing up with the final coats, it hit me that after all the accomplishments I have had in life, all the achievements in school, and then in business, this is what I needed him to see. Most successes in life are here today, gone tomorrow, the memories usually kept alive only by a photo of a handshake or a framed piece of paper. This was different. I wanted him to know that all those years of him speaking to my deaf ears and trying to raise a man whose interests at the time lied nowhere near his, that his efforts were not in vain.

In the end, it wasn't about the furniture, it was about the experience. Thanks to my father for planting the seeds, and thanks to Jim Morrison for providing the water...

SUV Prices

So, I just don't get it...No one, and I mean no one is buying big SUVs right now, and yet when I go to price them out at dealers, they could not are less about negotiating down the price. The situation is truly ridiculous! I keep getting told that the price they give, is the lowest they can go, citing that they are at invoice. Does anyone else find this completely crazy? Why are car dealers one of the only existing industries that can just say "fuck you - if you don't want it at the price i paid, move along..." I wish I could have the same attitude with my house right now, except for the fact that I can not get close to what i paid...nor does anyone give a shit about what i paid...they only care about what i am willing to accept. Why does the law of supply and demand skip over the auto industry, and when will they eventually have to drop their pants???

twitter

So, I'll admit it...at first sight and sound of this ridiculous site, I thought it could not be more foolish. Then, I made the mistake of actually creating an account. Holy Shit will this twittering occupy your time and your fucking mind. It was already cited as a major reason for the most recent break-up of Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer...the guy could not keep from tweeting...and I completely understand. And believe me, I'm pretty f-ing worthless in the world of twitter, so I can't even imagine having a ton of followers, with the pressure of constantly entertaining with witty and succinct banter. T'is one hell of a burden. At present time, I have like 22 followers, and believe me, I work to keep them. I am interested to see where this all goes, as twitter clearly has a ton of momentum behind it right now, and it seems the sky is the limit. I have connected with so many interesting people, and it has a much better feel to it then fb, not as invasive. And, of course the celebs and pseudo celebs love it...great forum for them to convey info and stay fresh and current. All in all, I'm enjoying my twitter journey, and as long as Spencer Pratt doesn't tell me to fuck myself too many more times, I will continue along with this ride...

Hello??

Does anyone give a shit about this blog?

WTF of the Week...

I mean what the hell? How can gas continue to rise and rise and rise?

Round and round it goes, where it stops, nobody knows...

Seriously, I am wondering the point to all of this, because how the hell can the average American afford to fill up their vehicle? More impressive is the fact that all the illegals are affording the gas as well - cuz the freeways are no less congested. The dems want a way to reduce vehicle emissions, well having gas approach $5/gallon is one way to accomplish the task.

http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=D8VBE1600&show_article=1

Back with a Tigger Bounce

After a pretty lengthy hiatus, I have decided to come back with a vengeance! Why you ask? Because my wife sent me a link to the video below, and I urge each and every one of you to watch it. I apologize for my disappearance, but after watching Randy speak, I feel it is my duty to do my part.

Much love
-ii