Finding serenity with my identity

Wether we admit it or not we all derive a large portion of our identity from what we surround ourselves with.  Our clothes, homes, cars, cellphone, movies we watch and especially our musical taste. All these factors pertain to how we want people to see us.  Though the focus is on how others will view us, the true reality of this self-conscious preoccupation is much more about how we see ourselves. This self-consciousness varies from person to person and fluctuates on an individual basis as we age and undergo change.  The following is a short narrative about my own tastes in music and how I've related to them in the realm of self-perception.

One year when I was around the age of eight or nine my dad decided to buy mom a CD player for her birthday.  CD players had recently become mainstream and affordable for the general population.  My father unfortunately made the mistake of confiding in me the nature of his gift as he wanted it to be a surprise.  Since I was a child, and thus a bit of a dolt I went to my mother a few days before her birthday and asked her what she wanted as a gift.  I then, in my mind, cryptically asked her if she would maybe want a CD player.  My dad and older sister were standing nearby and responded quite foolishly by getting all upset and saying I had ruined the surprise.  To this day I believe they share the blame by removing all doubt with their reaction.

Jump forward a week and my mom has her CD player (It had a really cool blue indiglo display) and now we needed some CD's to play in it.  At the time Mcdonalds had gotten on board the new 'compact disc' craze sweeping the continent and had for sale for a few mini albums of re-released work from some fairly big names in the music industry.  We ended up with a couple of them, one of which was a pretty decent mini compilation of Elton John classics.  The other CD was from none other than the 'lion of love' himself, Michael Bolton.  One of the tracks "How can we be lovers if we can't friends"(I think that was the title) had this great little guitar hook that caught my ear just the right way.  Since my personal selection of music was nil at the time this became my favorite song despite its sappiness.  I loved how it sounded, not it's message.  This combined with my lack of knowledge that Mr. Boltons fan base was largely comprised of middle aged women made for an interesting encounter with a couple of my friends.  

It was a couple of weeks after my mothers birthday when I had some friends over.  I wanted to show off the cool blue indigo display and to share with them the joy of Mr. Bolton's musical genius.  Unfortunately when I pressed the play button and my favorite guitar hook played they did not react with my enthusiasm.  In fact I would say 'deapan' is an apt description for their faces.  Not only did I feel disappointed, but also embarrassed.  I stopped listening to Mr.Bolton after that.  I became unwittingly self-conscious of the music I listened too and increasingly cautious of what I revealed to others about my interests.  I began to learn that caring about something could make you vulnerable and so I began the construction of my mask.  I even wrote a lyric that expresses these sentiments.

On this I wish to dwell no more

for I fell the pain I felt before

All this pain and shame and guilt

the masks I wear and the walls I've built 

The first piece of music I ever personally owned was a tape of 'Collective soul' (The album with the blue cover)  I heard some older teens playing it while I was at camp the pervious summer and its all I asked for my birthday.  Another year it was 2unlimited, and I was allowed to listen to them until one day when my dad walked by as I was listening to the song 'workaholic' and Ray Slijngaard dropped an 'F' bomb.  2unlimited still seems to be pretty popular with anyone who is playing sports in an arena and wants to get jacked up.  It turns out their Dutch, but for some reason I always pictured them as black. 

As I entered junior high and the lines of social hierarchy were redrawn I found myself growing incearsingly self conscious.  As defense against attack, I, amongst many others developed highly effective defense mechanisms.  The most common and powerful was without a doubt indifference.  If you cared about nothing or no one than you were invulnerable.  If someone found a whole in your armor and tried to invade the last line of defense was more often than not "I don't give a sh!t" or "who cares!"  As far as musically safe choices go Hard rock, Metal, and gangster Rap were the top options.  The negative messages and vulgarity went well with a "I don't give a Sh!t" attitude, as did the aggressive, sexual and violent behavior they portrayed.  Metallica, Dr. Dre, Snoop dog and Eminem seemed like the most common favorite artists of so many people I knew.  My personnel favorite was Rage against the Machine.  They had the aggression and anger I liked, but they also had a very political message and associating myself with made me feel not only badass, but smart too.

That era was largely intertwined with the high school years where I discovered "The Beastie Boys".  My first album of theirs was 'Paul's Boutique' and I loved them because the older sister of a friend of mine introduced me to their music and it seemed like lot's of other senior students liked them as well(Mostly 'fight for your right' and 'girls')  Which it turns out later in the book with their anthology that those songs had been an ironic joke to make fun of frat boys that went way to far.  The popularity of red backwards NY hats came and went with the infamous 'Limp Bizkit'.

It was during grade ten that I had an experience that was probably the first fracture in my musical mask.  I was talking with my lifelong friend Connor Cardinal and he had just criticized a piece of music I liked and impulsively I agreed with his criticism out of a need to be accepted, a fear of rejection.  He new my agreement did not jive with my true tastes and he said something that has stuck with me since.  He said,

"Have some confidence in your musical taste man."

  

I felt rebuked, but it rang so true that I didn't mind the sting of his statement.  If that was the crack then my next close friendship was the Frac (oilfield reference.)

Cade and I had known of each other most of our lives, but we had never really hung out until the summer of grade ten.  We both had just started to experiment with drugs and we spent many a night getting stoned and listening to music.  One of the really cool things about Cade is his intense hyperpassion for all things musical.  He's a techy, a gear junky, a talented player/songwriter and has a vast appetite with a broad palette for the sonic.  His family is partially to blame for this.  His father an accomplished musician, his mother a talented vocalist, and three sisters (two older) all of which who have their own musical tastes which spill over into his.  As I got to know him I realized he did not seem to limit his musical taste according to what people thought of him.  

After indulging in some herbal auditory enhancement I was exposed to a smorgasbord of new musical experiences.  During this period in my life I found new artists that shattered my self-conscious shell and opened me up to a freedom in musical taste that made me feel like I had been missing out on a big slice of life.  QOTSA, Muse, Fiona Apple, Big Wreck, At the drive-in, and Jeff Buckley to name a few.

I also let go of other peoples hang ups when it came to bands that were popular to hate.  It still takes a bit of a push to play 'sixpence none the richer's hit "kiss me"' when others are around, but I do it anyways.  I still drive to RATM, but I also enjoy Brittany Spears.  I like Nickleback, and if you feel so inclined to make a negative comment,  know that deep down I really do "give a sh!t".  All the metal and anger in the world can't change that your words cut deep.  A mask might hide a scar, but it doesn't stop the wound from happening.  I am left with the choice to either focus on avoiding and hiding from those painful moments or listen to what I want and take the hit(real or imagined).

suggested song: anything you feel self-conscious listening to.

Suggestion for suggested song:  Play with the windows rolled down and don't avoid eye contact with anyone.           

Drinking without the hangover...or the alcohol?!

Waking up with a blistering headache.  Washing down a couple Advil with water sucked straight from the tap.  Writing off yet another day in lieu of the previous nights poor choices.  Someday we will look back at drinking alcohol to excess the same way doctors now view blood letting as a treatment for fever.  Archaic, medieval, madness.

"Blasphemy" cry many lovers of the nectar of rotten vegetation.  Separating true connoisseurs from a millenniums old love affair seems not only impossible, but cruel.  I myself am sure that such traditions as the brewmaster, the vintner, and their devout patrons of the art will never die.  The wooly mammoths to which I refer are the aforementioned  distant cousins. The weekend warrior, the pub predator and his/her prey, the fratard, musicians in general, depressed writers and of course the slobbering drunk(which all become at one point or another, just incase you were feeling judgmental).  There are infinitely more titles for this class of libation consumers, yet they have one common trait.  They drink not for the flavor, but instead for the effect.

Now a quick non-scientific review of the effects of drinking.  Swagger>sloppy>slob.  Swagger:  Under the influence of a small amount of alcohol folks are "buzzed", and tend to be more confident, socially adept and at ease.  Sloppy: A few more jagerbombs down the road and inhibitions are largely absent as is volume control and the ability to accurately evaluate the attractiveness of the opposite sex.  Slob:  also known as loser drunk this stage is characterized by a severely depleted bank accountant, the deep seeded feeling of regret for things you've done but can't remember, and the morning joy of a mixture of half-digested hot wings, sweet potato fries and what was a near lethal dose of ethanol covering the majority of your best friends bathroom.  Enough years spent repeating this cycle leads to a broken mind, a mutinous liver and a reservation for a single occupant pine cabin for Myra Maines (Say her name fast).    For the seemingly worthwhile positives drinking gives us their is a much longer list of negative consequences.  Necessity is a mother.

Ecstasy was one of the gifts the pharmaceutical industry unintentionally gave to those who love an illicit high.  Originally it was intended to be used in group therapy to help people get in that sharing mood.  Who could have guessed it would go so well with house music and glow sticks.  Now what if those billionaire Pharmers got their poop in a group and decided to make something that was intended for recreational use?

Wonder no longer.  Thanks to the PhD's employed at pharmaceutical goliath Pharmco. unltd.  we will soon have a designer drug that comes in a bottle.  "Elixir" once okayed by the FDA will be sold "over the counter" at watering holes across North America and eventually European and Asian markets as well.  Thanks to the magic of science hangovers and liver disease will soon be a thing of the past.

So how does it work?  "Elixir" employs the combination of an oxygen saturated liquid medium (basically juice pumped full of O2) with a customized cocktail of neural stimulants and inhibitors.  This custom fit glove of uppers and downers carriers with it the desirable effects of alcohol and then some.  The oxygen rich medium gives an almost instant sense of euphoria and clarity.  Once the body begins digesting the medical ingredients the main effect will be the lowering of inhibitions without sacrificing sensory function, and that's just the start.  A full line of options will available in the way of personal preference.

"Azure Elixir" further stimulates mental acuteness and sharpens auditory and ocular sensitivity.  Ideal for viewing or musical entertainment.

"Emerald Elixir" muffles  the parts of the mind responsible for stress and anxiety along with a mild combination of muscle relaxant and painkiller to ease both mental and physical woes.

"Crimson Elixir" targets the control centers of the brain that govern sexual arousal.

Pharmco. has hinted at other flavors/experiences to be released in the future.    

Also in its favor "Elixir" lacks many of the negatives a bender with booze carries: hangover headache, dehydration, loss of motor control, and loss of logical reasoning capability.  At the molecular level the medical additives in "Elixir" create a nano barrier around themselves when exposed to the digestive enzymes of the small intestine and liver.  This allows them to stop effecting the body shortly after ingestion and thus cause minimal impact to the organs.  This also makes it nearly impossible to overdose and at the same time requires the individual consuming "Elixir" to do so continuously to maintain their 'high'.  A perfect alternative to the current poison being poured down the throats of the masses?

So in closing I pose a few of the many questions such news may raised in that addled mind of yours.  Will people really turn to this new concoction.  This usurper of the throne.  Surely it can't be all that is promised.  What of it's addictive qualities?  What will the side-effects be short/long term?  Will addiction and side-effects even be an issue?  Maybe we are arriving at a place where what we want and what we need finally converge without consequence?  Can too good be true?  I guess we shall see.



In a world of jaded skeptics I am sure most who read this will quickly recognize it as fiction, but for those of you who didn't, no hard feelings I hope.(If you were really hoping this was real you may have a problem and they say denial is the first step)  I guess I wrote this with the mindset that this could someday become a reality.  I am no Jules Vern, but I do subscribe to the belief that life imitates art.  Imagination precedes invention.        
    

       

"Pink Shirt Day>Let's defeat Bullying"...It starts at home.

When I write that "It starts at home" I mean that I started bullying at my house.  Flashing back to when I was a kid, like most children my age(or any age) we used to watch TV most days after school.  A particular show called the 'Wonder Years' was on a little later in the after school time slot.  We watched it on what was commonly referred to as Farmervision or Peasantvision (us poor people only had two channels).

Actually here's a quick side story:  Our antenna for the aforementioned Farmervision was stuck in the top of a small tree in our back yard next to the house.  A bracket on the side of the house kept the antenna from falling over and the antenna's base could freely turn in its organic base(the tree).  If we wanted to watch one channel we would align the antenna with the edge of the roof.  If we wanted to watch the other channel someone would have to run outside and adjust the antenna so it was perpendicular to the edge of the roof.  I there was a strong wind it would turn the antenna.  To fix that problem a pair of vice-grips was attached to the pole and could be adjusted so that they would butt against a nearby branch to hold the pole in the desired position.  We got more exercise changing channels then any kid playing wii fit or xbox connect.

Back to the 'Wonder Years'.  Some of you may remember this show.  Kevin Arnold(Fred Savage) was a seventies 'Malcolm in the Middle' with a keen interest in a pretty girl named Winnie Cooper.  I didn't get to watch it very often due to my parents disapproval of the shows sexually suggestive content, but the little I did watch had an impact on me.  Mostly in the form of Kevin's older brother and tormentor Wayne Arnold.  From this fictional character I based a large amount of my actions towards my siblings.  I didn't like this Wayne bully character, but whenever the opportunity arose I would torment or intimidate my brothers or sisters with the mindset that this was my role as the older brother.  I also saw the same actions repeated in most of my friends homes.  At the same time I was also being bullied.  By neighbours, kids at school, and even by people I call 'friend' to this day.  I received the same treatment I was passing out at home.  From elementary to high school everyone learned to watch what you say or you could become the next class pariah.  Sexual harassment in the form of humiliating nicknames were often given to girls and almost anything a boy said or did could lead to a classmate accusing you of being a homosexual, and this was grades 1-6.  Violence occurred at the what now seems like a ridiculously young age.  I remember a boy being pulled down a slide by his hair in kindergarden.  In grade three a boy bit through another boys jacket and into his arm drawing blood.  In grade six I was in a fight where I had a boy pinned to the ground and was punching him in the face while a friend of his came up behind me and kicked me in the head.  Most of the time these fights would end before a teacher noticed (which also seems incredible) and thus such acts were largely unknown to staff and subsequently were rarely addressed.  This environment of constantly being on guard and finding security in intimidating others felt horrible, but it also felt natural.  It was a life that at the time I never thought to question.  I never new anything different.  

In the past I often heard the saying 'boys will be boys' used to justify viewing pornography, fighting, binge drinking and other depraved acts.  To be honest I was of a like mindset for several years or at least my denial used this as a defence against the truth.  The first real crack in this wall of self-delusion came in my mid-teens.
          I had gotten used to taking care my younger brother for my mom when she had to run errands or go shopping.  One afternoon she informed me that she was going out for a bit.  Assuming I was going to babysit I asked her how long I had to watch my younger brother.  I was surprised when she told me I wasn't.  I was shocked when she told me I wasn't going to watch him because he was afraid of me.  This news filled me with shame and guilt.  Though I didn't physically attack him very often I did keep him in constant fear of me.  I would always try to make him flinch.  I was his big brother and it was my job to pick on him.  I conditioned him to constantly be on his guard around me and I'll never fully know how much my bullying affected him or how far these actions have stunted our relationship.  It shames me now to think that I can't remember if this was when I actually started to change.  I am grateful however.  Though I didn't turn over a new leaf the next day a seed had been planted.

I've watched some documentaries about fastfood and epidemic obesity, gun related deaths, healthcare reform, global water shortages and one mystery about vehicular homicide(In this case it was the car that was killed, that's a joke).  For most of the movie the 'facts' revealed are shocking, infuriating and negative.  I usually enjoy these films in general, but my favourite part comes near the end when they show some positives and give you hope that change is possible.

This is near the end. This is the positive part.

In high school I became friends with a guy I'll call Dade.  One day while I was at Dade's we were looking through the pantry for something to snack on.  We came across some treat sized assorted chocolate bars and began to eat them.  Dade mentioned that we should make sure to leave some for his sister as they belonged to her.  Jokingly I said,
         "We should eat them all, then she'll be pissed."  Then he said something that to this day has stuck with me.
         "Why would I do something like that?  I like my sister."  Regardless of the humorous intent of my comment I felt embarrassed.  I felt embarrassed because up to this point in my life I had treated my siblings like enemies.  Up to this point in my life I couldn't say that I 'liked' my brothers and sisters.  I wasn't some isolated savage that had just come across the concept of liking ones family.  Yet I felt like my emotional growth was severely stunted.  Like I had been held back several grades in the maturity department.  Perhaps that's the first bit of water that was allowed to reach the seed.

I did change.  Sometimes the change came so slow that it didn't seem to occur at all.  Sometimes the changed happened to other people.  Nonetheless it did take place and today I am enormously grateful it did.  I see so many people around me who cringe at the thought of family holidays and it's painful to watch.  I see other people that deeply love and enjoy their families and for that I have great respect.  I feel akin to those loving families because of how awesome mine is.  I don't want to brag, but they are the kindest, most understanding people I have ever met.

So to close I want to say a few things.  Bullies are not static characters in some sitcom that we need to declare war on.  They are likely scared, insecure little kids who don't get many hugs and have seen real violence, fear and pain regardless of their age.  Every bully has people around them.  When I think of the people around me, the impact Dade had on me with a few words.  I can't escape the importance of that knowledge.  It's not a new idea, but rather than tell you it, I need to read it for myself.          
      

on hiatus

I keep posting various blog entries on this page and none of them feel right for the title.  So until I write something that fits I am putting Catharticintheartic on hiatus.  If you do happen upon this message you can always go to my profile page and check out my other blogs.  That is in the hope that they will also not be on hiatus.  And I'm liking the word hiatus today, it seems exotic.  Actually I've liked it since I was a kid and Krusty the clown stated that his show was "...going on hiatus for re-tooling."