All the world's indeed a stage

Normally, I write this blog in the same manner I would if it were a column in a newspaper - I try to have a point of some sort. Not so much this time, so please, just humor me.

This week I had the opportunity to see, for the 6th time, my favorite musical group - Rush. 3 friends from Canada who have been putting out music since 1974. Incredible really when you think about it that two of these guys knew each other since grade school and still live next to each other, work together and, from the point of view beyond the lighted stage, are still great friends.

Over the last 25 years I've seen lots of bands - Boston, Pink Floyd, The Grateful Dead (another blog post altogether that one), Ted Nugent, 10,000 Maniacs, Marillion, etc etc etc (all old bands who are no longer together, I know). Not one of those was as good as the worst Rush show for a variety of reasons.

I got to the arena about 90 minutes before the doors opened and just spent the time looking around. The crowd was diverse only in age. Most of them were about my age plus or minus a few years -- definitely there would be no mosh pit at this gig. (Keep in mind the band members themselves are 58 years old) The biggest difference, apart from probably 10-15% of the crowd being female (a huge boost in the number of women from Rush shows in years past let me tell you) the biggest difference was the number of kids. Parents with their sons and daughters.

In the immediate group of people around me there were probably 10 kids between the ages of 6 and 12 - all of them, according to the parent who accompanied them (always it seemed parent in the singular -- the $77 cheapest ticket could have something to do with it) anyway, all of them having done nothing but listen to Rush albums for the preceeding several months - pouring through their dads' collection and desperately wanting to hear Tom Sawyer (the lad behind me) or La Villa Strangiato (the young man to my right). Each got their wish although Strangiato was the first song of the encore and I think the little dude may have been asleep as it was on 11 p.m. by that time. He was nearly drooling on his mother's shoulder as the band raced into 2112.

The crowd at these shows, instead of being insular, drunk, stoned or whatever they are at most rock concerts, were really an odd family of sorts. Kind of like the camaraderie you get at a renessaince faire -- quite possibly the very same people as a matter of fact. This is almost certainly the group of kids who made Dungeons & Dragons popular and I would be willing to bet most of them have copies of the Lord of the Rings movies at home. Still, you could talk to people and they talked back - which is nice in a large group of strangers. The guy on my left was an infantry soldier heading out for his second tour to Iraq but he stayed in San Antonio a few extra days on leave so he could see the show before he left. In the parking lot you'd hear people talk about the next shows later in the week in Houston and Dallas -- they were going to all three. I'm a fan, but not like that.

In addition to the feeling of goodwill in the audience, it was interesting to watch the band itself. You can generally tell when a band is playing well or not; whether they are putting on smiles for show or not. This time, as I watched, it seemed that these three guys, for all the extra weight carried by Alex; for the (thankfully) lowered voice of Geddy; for the slightly balding head of Neil; these three guys were doing what they loved doing and doing it with their best friends. I've never seen a band so genuinely at ease. Ged and Alex making faces at drummer Neil; Alex talking to people in the front rows or throwing back his eyes to make fun of Geddy. They are much less high-strung than they were 20 years ago, more willing to make fun of themselves and it seems more willing to let the world in a little bit. Best of all, and perhaps considering their age, most impressively of all, their playing skill is still something to marvel at.

In 2007 when my friend Jason and I saw Rush in Montreal (which was a bit of a leap of faith as he isn't a really a fan of the band) I said I would like to bring my son to their next show - which, obviously, and unfortunately, I couldn't do this time. I'm hoping they tour again so I can - you never know how much longer they'll be doing this. But I think he would not only enjoy it, but he could also see that doing what you love doing matters; that you never stop learning and practicing and trying if you want to be the best at what you do; and that, in the end, if you have your friends, you'll be where you need/want to be.

It might seem a stretch to put that kind of expectation on a rock band -- but watching the kids at the show, and talking to their parents, I don't really think it is. Rush is the exception - holding onto their principles despite not being commercially "correct". They made a decision to make the music they wanted to make and hang the 'industry executives'. You've got to admire that even if you hate their music. That's really an excellent example of tenacity and the need to work hard for kids (and adults too).  

Will you risk going back to the farm equipment sales job? Yes, you run that risk.

Will you risk failing? No. Not if you're true to your values. I think that is a lesson anyone can take away from Rush's example -- the music, well, it's a helluva bonus. 

You don't get something for nothing

You can't have freedom for free

You won't get wise with the sleep still in your eyes

No matter what your dreams might be...

Must write ... something...

OK, it's been over a week, I know - no excuses. I have to try to make this at least weekly - but not weakly - so you'll have to get over it. But thanks for coming back anyway. 

Got a comment from anonymous last week - I'll call him John because, well, that's his name so I don't know why he didn't just sign up and follow, but that's ok - thanks for the comment JB. Hope all is well with you and fam in Mass - did you ever find a job?

John is one of those guys who did his time in Blue and moved on - good for him. Sadly, there are people in the military who think that if you don't do 20 years you're 'quitting.' Well, those people are just dicks.

I had cause to think of my last post just today, as the top of an aqua massager closed in over top of me, trapping me yet again inside a tube. But this time my hands were free, i had access to headphones and as I had just run 4 miles, the water pounding on my back and legs felt great, so I didn't think about anything except how much I couldn't wait until I went running again so I could give myself an excuse to get back in that thing.   If you ever come across a water massage table, give it a try. You don't get wet. Basically you lay on what is a massage table, except a top half of a tube closes over you like a sun-bed. This half has a very plyable plastic sheet against which the water jets hit you - so you're dry and it feels great. Not as good as a 'real' massage, but about 1/3 the price and you don't have to worry if that number your buddys shaved in your back hair is still visible from your last new years party.

Speaking of running, I had confirmation today that I am not only old, and fat, but also slow.  The Shadow called me and asked what my mile time was. Grudgingly I told her the truth - about 9.5 to 10 minutes (but it will get faster).  My son, Al, the 8 year old, did a timed mile at school earlier in the day - 9 minutes on the nose. Fastest runner out there too. I could burst. Maybe some of my old cross country running genes have found their way to him - I hope he enjoys running. Being first will certainly help him get started.

Sadly today I realized that had I been left alone at my last assignment, I'd have only about 6 months left before going on terminal leave. Then I realized that I still had 20 months. It will go be quickly, though, the last 24 years certainly have. And while I can't say I'm a big fan of the Lone Star state and it's still 90+ degree weather, I notice that the highs for the Shadow and company right now are only in the 60s - barely. While 60s would probably feel nice, they are inevitably followed by 30s, 20s and zeros. I'll be happy to go back to that as soon as I can, but I won't think about it much until next July when it starts to get 110 here again.

For now, the best weather season of the south is nigh upon me, and I plan to take advantage of it by getting out there and putting some miles down - if for no other reason that so when I get home, I can catch my son and tell him how proud I am of him.

MRI machines finding unwanted growths

Remember way back at the beginning of this blog I mentioned that guys are genetically predisposed to picking a mental point somewhere between 16-24 and staying there their whole life? Ok, just keep that in mind.

Last week I had one of those opportunities to be part of the fiscal devil that is medical care. Fortunately for me, I live in a world that has socialized medicine so it doesn't actually cost me anything. And I think I know why...

...and the why is that they skimped on pretty much everything including, I'm concerned to note, the size of MRI tubes. Now, I'm a little heavier than I want to be, but I don't think I'm in any danger of showing up on "PeopleofWalmart.com" anytime soon. So it was more than a little disconcerting when they pushed me into the MRI machine they had to spray me down with PAM. Ok, they didn't have to grease me like a sheet of Thanksgiving rolls, but it was ... snug.

So my two questions are these: 1. In the questionnaire you get before they shove you in this thing, they ask if you're claustrophobic. What if you say. 'yes?' I want to know because if there's a way to do that for people who are claustrophobic, I want that option. I didn't think I was claustrophobic, and I guess I'm not as I didn't scream like a 5 year old girl or shake uncontrollably, but mostly because there wasn't room enough to do either of those things.

My 2nd question is: How do people who are really fat get in there. You know the people...those women who wear spandex the same way crushed meat wears a sausage casing. If I'm uncomfortable in that thing, they've got to feel like Play-doh in a clenched fist.

But besides all that, the real potential awkwardness from an MRI machine comes from the 16-year old male brain - and I really feel for any 15-16 year old male that has to spend any time in one of these things.

First, if you've never experienced one of these, they give you the traditional hospital gown, with the saving grace of you get to keep your underwear on. But then they drop a light towel or blanket or something over you and shove you in the tube.

For, like, 20 minutes.

And you CAN'T MOVE

And the machine is vibrating like an unbalanced washing machine.

If you are a guy sitting there trying ... how shall we say ... trying not to think of anything except maybe baseball, for 20 minutes and not move, there is the potential for your mind to wander.

Science has proven that the average male thinks about sex roughly every seven seconds. For the ease of math, let's say every 6 seconds - that's 10 times per minute. 20 minutes, times 10 -- so 200 times you're thinking about sex ... but WAIT...you're in a tube and you can't move! So you obviously can't think about anything remotely sexual (like the phrase "lubed up to fit in the tube" - you just can't and you know why.

So you have to NOT think about sex. Yeah, right. Ok, so let's call it every three seconds now, because you know once you can't think about something, that's all you can think about.

So, what to do. Sleep? Hell No! That's probably the worst thing you could do. Plus it's really loud in that thing - and that is probably a design feature - the noise gives you a distraction.

Until it becomes a kind of subtle rythym.

Damn.

(And to those of you wondering ... I managed to think of nothing but baseball for 20 minutes. Well, that and kind of writing this blog in my head and thinking about just what it would say had I not been able to think about baseball, and the reaction I would have received when a laughing doctor would inevitably tell me that the scan picked up a growth.)

Next time you're in one of those - you'll be thinking about this blog.
Good luck with that.

The World Wide Web certainly is

Wasn't really planning on writing anything tonight but I got looking at the stats page on the blog site that hosts this thing and it showed some interesting statistics - people from a bunch of foreign countries have logged onto this blog - almost certainly by accident, but it's interesting nonetheless.

The following are the total page hits since I've started this - not counting my own or else these numbers would be at least 2 higher.

United States 301 -- ok, I've got pretty decent sized family out there so I can buy off on this.

Canada 10 - I've got a couple friends north of the border as well - who obviously don't read this religiously, but we'll let them off the hook because they at least got into double digits and let's face it, their beer is much better than ours.

United Kingdom 8 -- Have some family there too who are starting to see what I'm doing down here.

China 5 - yeah, no idea. I figure maybe one of the words in the title translates to 'pizza' or something. I don't know anyone in China so this is a bit of a mystery. If you're reading this and you're from China, please let me know ... and what's up with only 5 page hits - i've got more than a dozen articles here! Come on, there are more than a billion of you; you can do better than that, surely!

Germany 5 - Again, not sure. Perhaps some people I know in the service who live there - that's probably it.

Italy 4 - That would be AFNBroadcaster. Of the 6 comments I've received since starting this, he accounts for 2 of them. The Shadow accounts for the rest.

New Zealand 2 - Probably my in-laws. Hope you had a nice trip back - we want to come visit.

Austria 1 - I've got nothing here. I've driven through Austria before but that was like 22 years ago so any statute of limitation is well past by now. I take it though that they weren't suitable impressed enough to come back.

Israel 1 - Never been there. Don't know anyone there. Hello to you.

Latvia 1 - Not exactly sure where Latvia is. No, I kid, of course I know. I also know I don't know you, but welcome just the same.

So, what does all this prove - nothing I can think of off-hand, except that when you think about people in 10 different countries reading something that has no real purpose, it gives you a bit of perspective on the scope and potential of the internet. And it gives me a new unofficial goal to go along with getting two dozen followers and more comments - viewers from at least 20 countries.

But, you ask, how can you do that? Well, I can't and so I don't have to worry about it. But if I keep this up long enough, it will happen and that's pretty cool in a way. If only dieting worked along these lines.