Month: September 2012

Writing

New Piece in the OC Weekly

When I first moved to Southern California, I was living, briefly, in Huntington Beach with Heron and two of our friends.  I remember sitting in the living room and telling one of my friends — let’s call him Stan Clouds — that I was going to find a way to write a story for the OC Weekly.  He believed it, and he was encouraging.  We even spent some time trying to figure out a way to write a story about him.

Well, a year has gone by, and my buddy has moved.  He’s living somewhere in the northwest.  It’s funny how things change.  It’s funny how people move.  It’s funny how you can never know the direction of where things are going when you start.

But this morning, I biked down to 2nd Street in Long Beach to do some work at a Starbucks, and I opened up the OC Weekly to this:

To the Long Beach community, the closing of Berth 55 is an important story, and I was very lucky to help give this issue some attention.

Let me dive a bit deeper.  I wanted to share with you a piece of writing that always resonated with me.  I’m going to paraphrase.  What I’m about to share comes from an essay by Ralph Waldo Emerson.  My buddy, Justin Dennis, told me to read this back in college.  Well, in that essay, Emerson writes, remember I’m paraphrasing, imagine yourself as a boat on the open sea.  When you’re on the open sea, you have to zig zag on your way to your destination.  If there is enemy ship near you — or even a dreaded pirate — you can’t go in a straight line, because your route will be predictable and you’ll be in danger.

Continue reading “New Piece in the OC Weekly” →

Writing

Learning Endurance–Running in Long Beach

I just got back from a run with Heron and Hendrix, my dog.  We ran along the bluffs in Long Beach–the port stretched out like an ancient Egypt and the electrified Queen Mary–and Hendrix must have pissed on every freaking shrub that he saw.  He must have wanted to smell every freaking flower.  And he must have wanted to sniff every freaking dog that ran within a mile of him.  I, clearly, was a bit frustrated.  I wanted to keep running without interruption.  I wanted to find my groove.  I wanted to lose myself in the run, wandering into an eclipse.

Well, I know that running metaphors are pretty clichéd and trite, but this is exactly what I’m going through right now.  I’m learning endurance.  I’m learning how to get through the pauses and stops.  I’m learning how to get through the failures.  And I’m learning, most importantly, that this journey is going to take longer than I could have ever expected.  It’s going to require more work than I could have ever thought.  And it’s going to require more strength and patience than I could have ever fathomed.

It’s been a little bit over a month since I’ve started this blog.  I’ve written almost everyday, except for some weekends.  I’ve been working seven days a week, too, while some days on the weekend are, truly, half days.  And every morning before nine, I’ve been working on my memoir.  I’ve made some mistakes; I’ve half-assed some blogs; I could have written better pieces; and I could have spent more hours pitching.  There’s always something I could have done better.

But this is a part of the journey.  Making mistakes.  My grandfather used to tell me, “Every man makes mistakes, but it takes a man to learn from his mistakes.”  That’s always resonated with me.  My grandfather was a hard-working man.  Just like my father.  They both knew what work is.  They knew/know commitment.  They worked hard to give me a better life.  And they struggled, too.  It’s clear, from their example, in order to grow, then, it’s almost necessary to fail, to breakdown, and begin again.

And, you know, that’s cool.  I can handle it.  But I have to be in this for the long haul.  I can’t let this just be some fleeting thought.  I have to make it work.

Writing

Interview with a Luthier, Concert Review, and Ain’t That Good News

Today, I went out to signal hill to interview Tom Wilson and Randy Baranosky of Wilmore Guitars for the Long Beach Post.  I’m not going to write too much about the experience, but it was amazing.  I’m not sure how extensively I talked about this before, but I’m a musician, too.  An amateur at best.  I went to school for music before I quit to pursue writing.  And I actually got to play one of these sweet Wilmore guitars.  Incredibly good time.  Beautiful sound.  Like driving a porsche.

Also, I had a new concert review come out at the OC Weekly.  Here’s the link: Pawnshop Kings.

But tonight’s post will be short.  Heron just had some good news, so we’ve been celebrating a bit.

More to come soon.  Stay tuned for an update on a story I have coming out this week that I believe is about an important issue here in Long Beach.  In fact, I think it really highlights a struggle that has been happening in this country for a long time.

Goodnight everyone.  Here are a couple of photos from Wilmore Guitars:

 

Personal Stories, Writing

Sailing Off the Coast of California

This Saturday, Heron and I went to Newport Beach where we met up with some friends.  We were going to spend the day on our buddy’s — let’s call him Kent — sailboat.  Kent has this beautiful boat, and he has been sailing most of his life.  Back home, my buddy had a great power boat, but this was my firs time on a sailboat.

Honestly, I was worried that I was going to get sea-sick, and I was even more worried that Heron would get sea-sick, too.  The waves were large, and it was a windy day.  As we drove through the harbor, Kent told me to head up to the middle of the boat and start pulling a rope attached to the mast.  To my surprise, I was lifting the main sail, watching the canvas spread out open at the top — the wind filling and catching.  It was amazing.

I kept asking Kent questions.  “What do you call that first sail?”  I learned it was called a jib.  “What are those dials for?”  “How fast are we going?”  At first, I worried that I might have been annoying, but Kent seemed like he loved to teach about sailing.  He knew what he was doing.  And to my surprise, as we pulled out of the harbor and passed the jetties, he told me to get behind the wheel.

Suddenly, I was Captain Joe — at the helm of the ship.  I couldn’t really figure out, at first, how to keep the boat straight, and Kent wanted me to do circles around a buoy.  I was amazed that every small movement of the wheel could cause such major shifts in direction.  I was navigating all right, until I took a few sharp turns, and the boom came swinging hard back through the cock pit, almost nailing Kent in the head.  Luckily, he was prepared for that disaster and kept his head low.  When that happened, I thought to myself, “I’m sure glad I didn’t do that.”  But then Kent said, “You’ve got to keep the boat straight.”  I asked, “What happened when the sail moved like that?”  “That was you,” Kent said.  “Definitely you.”  So, I was at fault.  Kent was nothing but encouraging however, and I stayed behind the wheel.   Continue reading “Sailing Off the Coast of California” →

Book Blogs

Paddle Boarding in Newport Beach and Running with Scissors

I have been absent for the last two days on my blog, but I took some time to really enjoy all that California has to offer.  I went sailing on Saturday, and tomorrow, I’m going to blog about that experience, because it was so amazing and important, strangely, to my writing.

But today, I went paddle boarding with Heron and some friends.  We went down to Newport Beach, and we went into the bay.  On the way back, surrounded by hundreds of boats with names like Claire De Lune and All That Jazz, I looked out before me, and I saw the Saddlyback Mountain, the mansions plastered along the hills in Newport and Corona Del Mar and even Laguna Beach, and I remembered how amazing and wonderful and immense California is.  Whenever I need a moment of freedom, of nature, of something bigger than myself, the ocean, the mountains, well, it’s all there.  Today, I was lucky to be alive.  I was grateful to be living in a state I had been dreaming about since I was a kid.

On the way back, we stopped at a little shake and burger shack on the PCH between Bolsa Chica and Sunset Beach.  It’s a tradition now.  They have the most amazing shakes I have ever tasted.  Heron and I also ate some french fries covered in Feta, and I had a cheeseburger, and she had a veggie pita.  It was a wonderful day.

Now to change gears a bit.  When I came home from paddle boarding, and I wanted to do some work.  And just about twenty minutes ago, I turned the final page of Augusten Burroughs’,” Running With Scissors.”  Recently, someone who read my book and offered some advice for revision told me that there were a lot of similarities.  And now, as I turn my novel into memoir, I feel amazed, stunned, really, that someone had already written a book I have longed to write.  It’s a book that spoke to me in so many ways I hope I will be able to explain.  Continue reading “Paddle Boarding in Newport Beach and Running with Scissors” →