Me old Ford Ranger.

I was driving to the bus stop today, my old stand-by at the helm; a 1994 black Ford Ranger.  It was a bit chilly this lovely autumn day, but, tmuch to my shagrin, the old truck’s heat had not worked for the past three winters.  Literally.  Did. Not. Work.

Have you ever tried to make a cross-state drive without any heat on a dark December Michigan night where the temperature is struggling to break into double digits?  Singing and dancing whilst driving will only keep you so warm in these conditions.  I suffered through the first hour and a half of below freezing temperatures (extreme driving, I like to say),  but eventually had to stop in Brighton and run a few laps around my truck to get blood to my toes once again.

The past three Michigan winters, I had gone though this, and merely put up with it.  I didn’t drive enough to drop a boatload of money into her.  Plus, it made me tough, thickened my skin, right?

This year, however, things are different.  While I was living in Europe, a family friend took some time out of his busy life to help a truck in need, and spruced her heating system right up.  So, when it dawned on me that I in fact do have heat this winter, I cranked the dial to eleven and listened to that floor vent purr.

It made me realize how awesome it is to have heat in my truck.  It also made me feel as if the Ranger (Ye Olde Blackie, as she has been called), is back and better than ever.  There was a time about three years ago I figured she was on her last legs, but she just keeps on truckin’.  She has about 156,000 miles right now; as far as I’m concerned, she’s got 156,000 more still in her.

What’s in a degree?

I don’t remember what made me choose to be an English major.  Probably because I figured it to be a nice, broad, liberal arts kind of program.  I could teach, if I wanted, or I could go on to pursue graduate work in some sort of something.  I decided on this the summer after my junior year.  It was my last chance to pick a major I wanted, lest I be stuck in undergrad forever.  I wish I had a better reason than these, though, because I do not like being an English major.  I just do not have the desire, the drive.  Reading Austen or Shakespeare usually does not leave me feeling “kicky.”  I’ve never really wanted to write critical essays or textual analyses before being an English major; why didn’t someone tell me that’s all you do when you are one?  Granted, I do like to read–quite a bit, actually–but mostly non-fiction, as it turns out.  And, I have noticed an increased vocabulary in my diction and writing, but who cares, right?  It’s sad; the courses I most enjoy are the ones pertaining to my minor, or to nothing at all.

I now have a regret in life; my college career (academically, anyway).  I feel like I have a better understanding of what I enjoy at this stage in the game; I didn’t know what I was doing freshman or sophomore year.  I just figured everything would come easy.  But it doesn’t, and I have the half=assed GPA to prove it.  Now I am in my fifth year and still not satisfied with my major.  Might as well finish it now and put the mess behind me, grab my diploma, and move on to the next chapter.

The big question is this: Why would someone like me–no slouch, by any means–be so fed up and disengaged with school and learning? It was the same thing in high school, and it doesn’t seem right.  And it doesn’t feel good to have to drag your mind through your last 30 college credits, like a wounded soldier in a losing battle.  Here’s to graduate school.

ENFP? GEEK.

Found out I was ENFP today.

Later, I told Jake.  Then I told him I was studying tomorrow.  He called me a geek.  I assumed he meant GEEK, the Myers-Briggs personality type, which we decided stands for several different things:

• Gradual, Energetic, Energizing, Kordial.
• Grippy, Emancipated, Egads, Konch shell.
• Grounded, Ever-so-slow, Eerie, Kodiak bear.
• Gastric bypass, Evening, Electrode, KKK.
• Gilly, Enamored, Eek the cat, Knocked-up.
• Grandma, Enchanted, E-harmony, Kryptonite.

Which GEEK abbreviation are you?

Halloween preview from The Earlobe Brothers.

A nighttime bike ride in Grand Rapids.

tonight i rode through the near-deserted concrete trails of downtown, earbuds rapping at my eardrums, the strokes or  the kinks or whoever ringing in my ears, the speed’s wind accompanying my music for a nighttime race with myself, my hands connected to my handlebars connected to my wheels connected to my pedals connected to my feet connected to my mind, all of me connected to the road, the breeze, the steel eventide of a sleeping meeting place of future suits and lunches, quietly, secretly tramping through half-assembled art projects in the eternal quiet anticipation, these confines which are boundless, which contain nothing but possibility, but the future;  all the while music humming in tune with my windswept wages, its force painting a thankful smile on my face, heart beating, eyes present, muscles earning their keep, as this city adopts me.

New Grand Rapids ad campaign.

And after that…

Rep. Charles Boustany was never heard from again.  The end.

My definitive music mix; part 1 of 4.

So, my newly acquired roommate John “Moose” “The Legend” Williamson has deemed it mandatory that each and every one of us have a definitive mix of songs.  This definitive mix is open to generous interpretation; it should basically be whatever it is that defines you, takes you back to specific times in your life, or opened you up to a whole new world of music.

Thanks to Moose, I spent many an hour last night and this morning drawing up formal plans for my definitive list as of 2009.  20 songs that have moulded me into the person I am today.

He and I were discussing this last night, and came to the realization that, since smell is your strongest sense, if music smelled, it could nearly be sensory overload.  Just imagine the possibilities.

Without any further ado, here are the first five tracks on my definitive mix.

Neil Young – Walk On
This song specifically reminds me of fall of 2007, driving to coach Coopersville JV soccer, and consistently listening to On The Beach while in my Ford Ranger.  It has also become one of my top two favorite Neil tunes.

Wu-Tang Clan – Protect Ya Neck (The Jump Off)
Far and away, this track defines my appreciation of hip-hop, most of my middle school/early high school/Trinity youth group days.  It reminds me of Jake Sliva and Jeff Lake (the three of us together were The Yungenz; we even had an Angelfire website).  My love for Wu-Tang came to a boiling hot climax when Jake, Joe Robert, and I had the chance to see them in Chicago.  Plus, I think I still know all of the lyrics.

Sloan – Money City Maniacs
This is one of those songs that disappeared from my life for a good five years. I remember downloading this off Kazaa on my mom’s computer and burning it to a copper colored CD-R, probably freshman year.  I couldn’t get enough of it, because it is a damn catchy song.  I slowly forgot about it, only to be reminded of the band Sloan when Duffy nearly opened for them at the Intersection in Grand Rapids, MI.  This song entered my mind once again, and the rest is pop  gold history.

The Presidents of the United States of America – Feather Pluckin
One of the first albums I purchased, and I still stand by my decision.  It was 1997, and I was in 6th grade.  This is the album opener, and upon reviewing the album, the one that really takes me back to twelve years ago.  And I still love it.

The Beatles – Sexy Sadie
This is just my favorite Beatles song.  The piano strutting about in the first few seconds always makes my day.

Next up, tracks 6-10.

My absentmindedness will be the death of me.

It’s easy for me to daydream.

So easy, in fact, that I may spend more time planning/thinking about the future than living in the present.

I daydream so frequently that I usually cannot remember what I did yesterday, let alone a year ago.

Sometimes, if I’m somewhere (say, Point A), I’m not really there.  I’m thinking about something I need to do later on over at Point B.  Once I get to Point B, I then begin to think about what happened at Point A, and then plan for the upcoming Point C.

To make a long story short, I constantly struggle with being “in the moment.”  I must make a conscious, difficult effort to be Here, rather than There.  And I think I have been like that for a long time, which partially accounts for a self-proclaimed bad memory.  I truly believe humans cannot multitask, so if I am thinking about Point B, Point A will soon be forgotten.

The downfall of this, besides points already mentioned, is that if I continue at my current rate of absent-mindedness, I will soon have let life pass me by.  If I keep it up, I will surely wake up and be 83 years old, planning how I want my funeral to look, still focusing on the future.  What’s worse is that this sort of thinking will inevitably render me stuck in one spot, always thinking, never doing.  If I cannot focus my efforts on some sort of direction, sooner or later I will realize I stayed in one spot my entire life.

Don’t get me wrong; I feel I have accomplished several great things in my life so far.  I have no regrets… yet.  It’s just that I have more or less stayed in the neighborhood — dead ending on a few Courts and Circles — rather than hitting the freeway and making a beeline North.  Or South.  Or wherever.

So, I guess now is the time to start “Gittin’ her done,” so to speak.  I do need to consciously focus my thoughts on the present, rather than stumbling through each day worried about five years from now.  Because, if I don’t, then…. well?  Then… then I’ll…. Um…

…I’m sorry, what was I talking about? I forgot what I was going to say.

New Valentiger Photos

A friend of Rider’s, Amy Carroll, took some photos for us, and they turned out great.  Click the photo for more.