Baby Update

So the past year was the craziest year of my life.  From the tragic passing of my best friend to the birth of my daughter- and everything in between, I am still left stunned.  Here I am though.  It’s 2013.  The depth of pain and joy from the past year is still spilling over, and I’m sure it won’t ever cease to affect me, but at least it is getting easier. 

Things that encompass all life seem calmer.  Some things don’t seem as important, like my book writing, for example.  I am grateful for the success so far of L.A. Ninja.  I have sold somewhere approaching 100 copies, with only one review, but it’s a good one of 5/5 stars.  I should be overjoyed based on the high level of internal importance that I had placed on writing and publishing it, but I’m not.  I’m happy, but it just seems less important.  I suppose that life has a way of putting things in the proper perspective.  I guess I should know that from my own characters, but I admit- it gets away from me sometimes.

Speaking of which, my little girl is amazing.  I purposely try to avoid being that parent that sings high praise about their little one, even with all evidence to the contrary.  However, I am unable to do so, so it seems.  She is so much more than I had hoped for.  She is healthy, vibrant, passionate and intelligent.  She is physically large, to my surprise, as neither my wife nor I are tall, and she is more advanced than most of her peers.

She was walking at ten months of age, and now at eleven months is able to make short bursts of runs.  She says some words, including “dada” and “Adrian”, and she has a thirst for everything that is the life around her.  She giggles and has had her first laugh attack.  She loves dogs and all things animal.  She loves the zoo.  She is stubborn, temperamental, and so far, refuses to take shit from anyone.  I admit that she probably gets more of that from her mother than me, but that is ok. 

Speaking of which, my wife amazes me too.  I have told her so, but I sometimes think that we both lose sight of it.  So I will write it down here.  I think she has far exceeded the already high hopes that I had for her as the mother of my children.  She has shown patience, love and admiration, and strength with our babygirl.  She has impressed me further with her research and educated approach to raising her, for which I am often times left in the dark due to my own ignorance on the subject.  I think though, for my part, the result provides the ability to strike an even balance in raising her.  Either way, I am so appreciative in the passion and energy that she has shown in raising our daughter.

Anyhow, it can sometimes be difficult when two parents must find agreement in the everyday decisions to raise a young one.  The key though is communicating- as we always do, and sometimes having the trust and courage to make concessions.  It works both ways.  We are making it though, and I am happy with what I see in my little girl.  It will be her first birthday at the end of this week.  Happy birthday, Munkiepants.  I love you like crazy! -Daddy

Desiderata

I sometimes come across things in this crazy life that I have somehow missed before.  It is exciting because it makes me wonder what is there out there yet to come; but it is also depressing because it means that I have been missing out for so long.

Anyhow, I just found this from another blogger out there in the blogosphere, er, I mean in here in the blogosphere. It is a poem by a man named Max Ehrmann.  You can read it about it here on wiki: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desiderata

I hope it inspires you as much as it does for me.

Desiderata

Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its shams, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful.

Strive to be happy.

SNL Flash in the Pan? TV Update.

SNL has started up again for the new year, providing some funny entertainment for a change.  I was getting to thinking that maybe SNL is turning the corner on the level of comedy that it is providing, but then again, I’m not so sure.  Far be it from me to be that naïve. 

The newcomers are coming along, slowly but surely.  Taran Killam is pretty funny too, but I still miss Amy Poehler and especially Kristen Wiig.  The duo of Amy and Seth crushed it on the Weekend Update, and Kristen had so many funny skits that I wouldn’t even know where to start.  Strike that.  The skit where she played the lady who had trouble keeping secrets and always ended up jumping out the window was money.  Remember this? http://www.hulu.com/watch/114930

Two weeks ago, the best skit by far was the piece with the dogs doing the Top Chef.  You didn’t have to be a dog person to get everything in that skit, but it probably would have made it so much better.  You can see it on YouTube here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hadAhW1RS6s

SNL was pretty good last weekend too. The “YOLO” digital short with Andy Samberg, Kendrick Lamar, and Adam Levine was awesome.  Having Lonely Island back in the mix makes those bits that much better. The Sopranos skit was hilarious too –I’m not sure if that one will make a comeback, but it would be nice if it did.  I’m glad to be seeing that one new guy, Bobby Moynihan, being this good in a skit.  That reminds me, he was also good as the Italian kid in that one skit with Vinnie Vedecci. 

So am I going to change the acronym of SNL from Snoozing, Not Laughing, back to Saturday Night Live? Probably not.  Not yet.  I know that from watching the show for so many years, it has its ups and downs.  We are in a downcycle, for sure. 

The rest of my TV repertoire is coming along nicely though.  Vampire Diaries is wicked good, as is Two Broke Girls, New Girl, and Modern Family.  American Horror Story did not live up to last season’s greatness, but I still have 5 episodes on the DVR, so maybe there’s hope?  How I Met Your Mother dropped off a bit for me as well this season –and what’s with Barney marrying Robin?  That will ruin the show. 

I did see the pilot for the Americans, which is the new spy series running on FX.  It was a bit long, but I seriously didn’t notice because it was so good.  I won’t tell you what it’s all about, but I will say that it has everything: action, deep characters, spy games, sex, love, intrigue, and rock n roll.  If the characters can pull me in completely during the first episode, then that’s good writing.  I never really looked at Keri Russell that closely before, but you know something?  She’s kind of hot.

My last note is sad one.  As painful as it is to admit this, I end up watching Allie’s crap on TV too.  I can’t help it.  I am busy working away on my computer and she watches the Real Housewives, Grey’s Anatomy, Glee, the New Normal, and American Idol in the background.  I wouldn’t say that I “watch” any of those shows, but I definitely know what’s going on in them.  I will admit too, that they are pretty good.  I would probably watch Grey’s Anatomy on my own too, because I’m in so deep.  The Real Housewives can get pretty dramatic, and you know, I’m all about the drama.

Is the Musicscape for Hip-Hop About to Change?

When I was growing up, music and television were pretty much all that I had.  I grew up on these influences as not only a means of entertainment and a resonance of spiritual feeling and understanding, but also as lessons in life that would shape, at the core, the person that I would become. 

In the 1990’s, I never thought much of music being anything other than what it was at face value at the time.  In those days, hip-hop was a new art form still, taking shape in new form on almost a daily basis.  I was living near the east coast, in Toronto at the time, and the influence there was heavily from New York.  My bff at the time was a New Yorker, so that just resulted in me diving deeper into the good shit and just becoming completely immersed in hip-hop.  Toronto, too, was not too shabby of a place for hip-hop in its own right.  On the weekends, some of the illest shit was coming out of the university radio station.  Illest?  Damn, I have used that word in a long time...

The music though, was what was most important.  Whether coming out from the university air waves, or from the latest Kid Capri mixed tape from the New York underground, the music spoke to us the same.  Back then, the lyrics were gritty and real.  The music was about the streets, and hustling for paper.  They were about accumulating street cred and making sure the haters were kept in check.  There were some like Busta Rhymes, Jeru the Damaja, and Tribe Called Quest that made you think with poetic analogies and smart lyrics. 

I think most people that know hip-hop would agree that the music coming out of New York in the early 90’s was the best of the best.  In an earlier post, I listed out some of my faves from that era, and you can find it here: http://a-lo-books.blogspot.com/2011/12/favorite-music.html

That wasn’t all though.  The west coast gave birth to gangsta rap, which was an entirely different animal.  It was ballsy and raw, and it reeked of danger.  You had to listen to it because it was too much force to ignore.  The gangsta rap was good too, and it was as much from the streets as was the east coast hip-hop.  The west coast street culture was (is?) heavily influenced by gangs, so the music connected with the streets and gave that culture a voice.  I suppose I have a unique perspective on both sides, because when I moved back to the west coast in the mid 90’s, tha DoggPound, Snoop Dog, and Dr. Dre were just getting started.

It was a great time for music.  The east coast versus west coast battle was poppin’ off.  Biggie Smalls was the illest.  Tupac came out here and transformed his soul, immersing himself into the gang culture, and in doing so, he made some of the best hip-hop/gangsta rap ever to hit the streets.

Something sad and unfortunate happened though, and I don’t mean the sad and tragic deaths of Biggie or Tupac.  The music changed.  The 1990’s ended, and with it, the great music.  As if the music of the dirty south was not bad enough, the lyrics became as fake and plastic as our economy at that time.  Drinking 40’s gave way to champagne.  Street cred and dope rhymes gave way to a fake ass life of luxury and lessons in pushing the envelope of ebonics.  Every song was about drinking Crystal, driving Maybachs, sporting bling, and flying G6 jets.  What a bunch of bullshit.

Oh sure, we all know that rappers just breaking into the biz are already loaded with enough cheddar to own Gulfstream jets.  Of course it’s bullshit, and that’s my point.  The music was bullshit.  It was not real.  The lyrics were fake, as in pretend, as in total fiction.  It was the glamorization of a life many people in our culture wish they could afford but know they can’t. 

There’s nothing really wrong with that, except when people begin to take to heart.  In reality, it’s fun to sing along with some bullshit songs about the glamorous life.  It’s even fun to dream about such a life.  A lot of great movies and books are about such lives, and while we are experiencing them, it is not only a fun experience, but a harmless escapade for our imaginations.  There is a point that we crossed though, where the musicscape became over saturated with this message of bling, and I think that’s where we are today.

When I look around my city, I don’t see the bling.  I never did.  In reality, only 2% of people in our country are considered rich by the government.  That is only a small number of people.  The music of bling isn’t representing us.  It isn’t representing the streets.  It isn’t representing my neighbors.  It isn’t representing anybody I know.  That’s when you know something is wrong.  In these tough economic times, it is actually depressing to hear lyrics of bling. 

There is hope though.  I was listening to the radio the other day when I heard this song come on, “Thrift Shop” by Macklemore; you can find it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QK8mJJJvaes  I thought that the song was thoroughly entertaining, and kind of a joke, but mostly, I was happy that I was witnessing a change in attitude in our mainstream.  The song is not only about being broke, but it also celebrates being a broke ass.  That song spoke directly to me, and I was digging it.  I’m still not sure that this song isn’t a joke or a spoof, but Macklemore is not a joke.  I didn’t know who he was, but I listened to a few of his songs on youtube, and he raps about deep issues.  That’s cool, and refreshing.

I hope that this is the start of a new wave of music for this decade, and if it is, I will be happy.  Maybe we can get back to listening to ill music again.  Maybe we can start using the word “ill” again?  I’m probably pressing my luck with that one.  Either way, here’s to being broke and happy!

Kanpai!

PS. This is a cool site/resource for keeping in touch with hip-hop -both of yesterday and today: http://www.undergroundhiphop.com/index.asp?

Why LA Ninja?

The ninja is one of history’s most elusive and mysterious entities.  Their existence in the ancient, feudal time of the Samurai in Japan is sometimes mind blowing to me.  To be fair, I acknowledge that in general, I picture an uber glamorized ninja, much like Sho Kosugi of 1980s ninja movie fame ( imdb entry here: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0467563/ ).  Of course I know that this image is ridiculous and purely fictional, but it’s fun and harmless, so long as I know that it is bs.  At least that's what I tell myself.  Still, the allure of this ancient being is strong for me, as I have always had such a respectful interest in the Japanese people, history, and culture.  I mean, let’s be honest; they invented the friggin’ ninja!  Cool points for Japan = one million, right there alone. That doesn't even include the Samurai.  (I will get to them later.)

In my mind, there are a million different reasons that one would want to gen up a story about ninjas.  In the end though, my reason turned out to be pretty stupid and simplistic.  There we were on day, driving over to the drive-ins of all places –to watch what, I can’t remember.  At that time, I had already written One-Eighty, so I knew I could pull a novel together.  Then I thought, out loud, “wouldn’t it be cool as shit if there was a story about a kid from LA; he’s an orphan; he gets adopted by a Japanese family; the dad is secretly a ninja; he teaches the kid to be a ninja; the kid grows up and some crazy stuff happens, and he ends up fighting LA street gangs.”

My wife, who was in the car with me, laughed, and then said, “yes, actually, that would be cool!”  That was how easily the idea came to be.  Of course, anyone that has read LA Ninja knows that that isn’t at all how the story turned out.  Not even close.  I found that while I was developing the plot, it seemed too barbaric.  It was too much muscle and not enough brain; too much lack of concern and not enough passion; too much rage and not enough love; too much Charles Bronson and not enough Jerry Maguire.  You get the point.  I’m kidding, kind of, because I hadn’t written anything down except a summary plot of what I thought I wanted the book to be about.  But it was going in that direction, and I knew that I wanted the story to have the depth, love, and spirit. 

It didn’t matter what I thought, as it turned out, because when I got to writing it, Gabe pretty much took me wherever he was going, and not vice versa.  That’s the beauty, as most writers know, of writing stories and characters.  You, as the writer, may think you’re in charge, but you’re really not.  A true character will always do what they are going to do, whether you’re on board with it or not.  At least that’s what I have found out.  It’s a very exciting thing, as I have blogged about previously.

The outcome was more than I ever dreamed.  Gabe is both a simple and very complex character.   He is both very real and very surreal.  We traveled together on a journey through heaven, hell, and everywhere in between.  He inspired me with his ambition, discipline, strength, and capacity for love and goodness. He frustrated me with the mess of his life and the misfortune of his decisions. 

Why I wrote LA Ninja, I’m still not exactly sure of.  I guess I have never seen or read an all around Ninja story.  You know the one.  The story that follows a strong character but isn’t just about some crazy Japanese ninja running through the 1980’s trying to kill the good guys a la Sho Kosugi.  Not that there’s anything wrong with those stories.  I love those stories.  Call me a dreamer.  Call me a sap, even, but I wanted a story that had love.  I wanted a story that was at least semi-believable. 

I couldn’t be more proud of that piece of work.  I wrote most of it in the span of about three weeks, while my lady was in China.  I wrote it with Phoebe on my lap or next to me, pretty much the entire way through.  I wish I could go back and dedicate it to her, but I can’t, unless I am somehow able to republish it.  I already have the plots ready for the sequels, and I can’t wait to get to work on them.  I have to admit though, the story that I’m almost done with, about a lady named Alexis, has been an even more exciting story for me.  I don’t know how I will feel when it’s all said and done, but I know this: I never knew I had it in me.  Tell me how you really feel.

Feminist State of Mind

Feminism is a state of mind.  It is about freedom, power, and independence.  It doesn’t mean you can’t be girlie, or be cute, or pink, or wear lipstick or heels.  It doesn’t mean you can’t cook, or clean, or iron your husband’s clothes or be a stay at home mom.  It means that you can be what ever you want, so long as you realize that you are in charge of yourself.  Nobody tells you what to do.  No stereotypes.  No orders.  Only free will.  That is feminism, to me.

I embarked on a journey when I decided to write about Alexis Cruz, a fictional character in my upcoming book, not yet titled. This journey, although not yet complete, has gotten me to think a lot about equality and the struggle that women in particular have in our “modern” society.  I find myself now admitting that I most definitely did not have the level of understanding on the topic that I like to think I had.

I have always considered myself a modern guy that looks to reason, science, and philosophy to understand the world around me.  I blame the Aquarius in me for that, as I tend to over analyze things as well.  Still, the relationships that people have, men and women, are both complex and simple.  I have spent a great deal of time studying the character of an individual, and over time, one comes to realize that each person’s individual motivations move them to act and think the way they do.  

It’s such a simple concept, yet we have been over-complicating it and screwing it all up forever.  Sometimes it’s as simple as feeling hungry or tired; or wanting to do the right thing like telling the truth or helping a stranger in need.  Other times it begins with something basic, like viewing another person as an equal, because you know the right thing is not to assume someone is inferior because they are physically weaker, smaller, or of different skin color, or of a different sex.  The instinct for someone to make that initial assumption and then assume mental power over the other is the basis for inequality and the perpetuation of the deepest of character flaws that some of us have.

I mention it because these simple motivations are at the core of the problems -and the solutions- that I see in today’s feminist fight.  When Alexis came to be, my first idea was to model her mind and actions after my own wife’s, who to me, is the most forward thinking and powerful woman that I have ever known.  She was a perfect foundation for me; but as I delved deeper into Alexis’ character and what motivated her, I found myself becoming more and more confused about her and what decisions she would make.  I thought for a time, that I was not enough of a feminist to write such a powerful character.  She in fact, was becoming more than I could handle. 

I laugh now, because the idea seems ridiculous.  She was not overwhelming me, per se, but she had become so complex that the clear lines of definitive feminism didn’t work for me.  Feminism was not a clear definition, I came to realize.  It was not what the media would have me believe. It was not just a strong woman working in a man’s corporate world.  It was not a woman unafraid to speak her mind.  It was not an uber-liberal progressive that went to college and executed cutting-edge journalism to an audience of millions.  I should say, it was not just that.  It was those things and more.  Feminism was also mothers, teachers, stay at home moms, students, farmers, artists, singers and dancers and much, much more.

It was when I realized this that I also realized that feminism is deep at the core of our character and beliefs.  Feminism is equality, at its core.  It doesn’t even matter if I am a man or a woman, because if at my core I believe that women are equal, then equality has been achieved and the ideal of feminism no longer needs to exist.  Since our core belief system is what motivates us to act and think, in terms of equality, how can value and morality have a gender? A man can be weak, as can a woman.  A man can be shrewd, aggressive, and arrogant, as can a woman.  None of these traits have anything to do with the position a man holds in life, whether it be a farmer, lawyer, politician, or laid-off construction worker.  Same goes for a woman, regardless of her working role in society. 

This is all most definitely a change from how I viewed the topic many moons ago.  I see it as an issue still for women.  There are a lot of women out there trying to get out of this game of cutting each other down. At the core of the weaker person’s character is jealousy, shallowness, materialism and image.  The competition of it all makes people want to continuously outdo each other in order to “win” something that doesn’t exist.  The typical outcome is that women cut each other down.  It is sad to see, because it is often times over a man, which is the ultimate slap in the face to the feminists. There is no power in the weakness of lying and backstabbing because it will always come back to you.  Victims will never forget.  And it is weak because it means that you don’t have the courage to admit that you are ruthless or that you have made a mistake.  It’s a negative and ugly game, and if the energy spent on it were instead focused on making yourself a better person, you’d get real power.

It is power over self that defines feminism.  A strong man that works a career and focuses on making himself a better person has a lot of power.  So does a woman. Be independent.  Be free to follow your dreams and do something great, whether that is to run a marathon, climb a mountain, lose weight, raise great kids, earn a degree, or rise to the top of a fortune 500 company.  All of those things represent feminism, or masculinism (like that one?), if they are for you and by you.  Do it all for yourself, not for any one else.  Do it all with dignity and without cheating, and you will find power and independence. That is feminism.  That is masculinism.  Now get out there and kick some ass!

Phoebe Zephyr

I wrote about Phoebe’s Meadow, as a dedication and promise to my dog, Phoebe Zephyr, who has now passed on. The abrupt and tragic passing was due to the suddenly rapid deterioration of her liver, which had a shunt. Her passing is the single most devastating thing to happen to me in my life.

She woke up very sick on a Wednesday morning before work. My wife called me, frantic, and I rushed to meet them at the vet. The news was bad. The doctors at the vet that we’d been taking her to for her whole life said that Phoebe wanted to die, and that her liver was the problem. They suggested putting her down right on the spot, but we refused. There was no way that we could accept that outcome at that moment.

Phoebe was beyond just a special dog to us. My wife and I married young, at twenty two years old. She never wanted children, and even though I did, I loved her so much that I agreed that if it was our destiny to never have children, then I would be ok with it, and I promised to never resent her for it. We got Phoebe a few years later, as a six week old puppy.

We probably didn’t realize it at the time, but because we agreed not to have kids, Phoebe became that kid. She brought us closer and gave us something to pour our hearts into. As more time passed, we treated Phoebe more like a kid, taking her everywhere with us. We pioneered driving in the car with her hanging out of the driver’s side window.  She was always on my lap. We took her to kids parties, we bought her clothes every week, and we went to places just because they were dog friendly. We even stopped going to movie theatres and instead opted for the drive-ins because we could all be together. We lived like that for almost ten years. We called her our dogter.

People often say that they love their dogs, and I’m sure they do. Few though, are truly dog people. Phoebe was literally the center of our universe. When we fought, we talked about visitation rights, and who would get full custody. When we fought, Phoebe would get sad and sulk in the corner.  Our feelings were very real, and she, Phoebe, knew it. This was why we could not accept what the vet told us.

We went to another vet, visiting a person that we knew personally. There are many reasons that we had not taken her there in the first place, but the main reason was because she was not a vet when we started off with Phoebe and her numerous health issues. We thought that we trusted her original vet. We turned out to have made a deadly mistake.

The new vet, our friend, told us that we should have been treating the liver shunt with medication the entire time. It was what ultimately killed her. The toxins were too much and they attacked her brain. We were too sad to be livid, but as more time goes by, that truth, that our first vet did not prescribe something that was explained to us as “routine”, absolutely kills me. It means that Phoebe did not have to die yet.

I don’t know what I can do yet. Nothing will bring my Phoebe back. She died in my arms from a lethal injection one day after her 11th birthday. It was devastating. I am still devastated by it. We gave her almost eleven years of love as the center of our lives. Sadly, during the past few months of her life, she fell from that special place, as the birth of our daughter changed our entire dynamic.

Our daughter demanded our full attention. I wish though, that I knew what was happening with Phoebe. I feel so much guilt and regret that she did not spend her last few months and weeks with more attention from me. It shreds my heart knowing that I was ignoring her and unable to yet find balance in my life with her place set. My life has been out of balance. I could not balanced the new baby, working out, writing, working, eating, taking care of my Phoebe, or anything else.

Maybe it’s foolish of me to think that I could have saved her, but I think that too. Maybe I would have acted faster, or actually noticed something wrong. I don’t know. It’s too late now. She is gone forever, and her last days were the worst. We tried to save her with liver shunt medication and other medications. We went through a week of hope and despair. Our emotions shot up with happiness, thinking that each thing we tried might work, and then they fell hard when she did not improve. It was unbearable. I went through bouts of heavy crying during her last week with us. I knew a few days before she left that she was already gone. I cried hard then. Her mind was gone.

She came back only once, many days before she died, to give my wife and I “family kissies”, which was when we all three put our faces together and kissed. She licked our faces like crazy. I am so thankful for that.  I hope it is the last thing that she remembered.  She was gone for good after that. She wouldn’t eat. We force fed her with feeding tube, but she wouldn’t eat on her own. On the night before we put her down, she locked herself in a corner and cried. I could not take it. The next day she died in my arms -her favorite place to be. Her passing was peaceful and painless.

Rest in peace my baby dogter. Wait for us in the meadow. We will be with you soon. We will all be together again. Until then, we carry you with us always. You will always be our first baby. I love you.

Phoebe Zephyr Huerta, Aug 19, 2001 – Aug 18, 2012