The one Jason forgot...

This is my favorite I think... perhaps cause it's the story of my life. Perhaps for the visual poetry... who knows?

If you don't like Jimmy Eat World...

It's obvious you've never heard this album. Just falling in love with it for the 9,000'th time... From Jason and I's drive-to-school-at-the-top-of-morning-lungs anthem, "Table for Glasses" to all 16 minutes and 14 seconds of the loop-wild "Goodbye Sky Harbor".

On Tuesday I decided how I was getting to Boston...

3 grueling 16 hour days, 2 hotels, 2600 miles, hours of packing, unpacking, packing, and unpacking, and 80 straight hours with my mother later...

I'm in Boston. Maybe I should've flown.

More to come soon.

Back in AZ...Go Sabercats!

So Utah was wierd. I had an immense "you don't belong here anymore" feeling the whole time. I drove back to AZ on Friday and stopped at my grandma's house in Flagstaff for the night. Saturday I got to unpack all my stuff from the suburban and start scratching my head about how to get it all to Boston.

Then I went to hang out with Jen. She lives right by Kiwanis park, and hadn't yet explored it, so we decided to do just that. Good call. We stumbled onto a Pee-Wee football game in progress. If you've never watched a Pee-Wee football game, you really should. Imagine 50 or so 7-10 year olds decked out in pads with huge helmets. If they lean too far, they fall over. Every tackle begins with one initial hit and ends in a pile because the kids build up so much momentum (and are so top heavy) that they can't stop. Jen put the charm of watching the event this way: "It's like big people football... but they're small." Profound. It really was amazing. Before we saw any of the game we picked the team in black and gold to root for. They were called the sabercats and they totally dominated. It was really sad for the parents across the field, I'm sure. Those kids were getting wasted. Sitting with all the parents was a hoot. They were so into the game. And many had the cutest little black babies ever (future generations of pee-wee players). We got a few wierd looks cause we were too... despite having no kids of our own on the field. We screamed "go sabercats!!!" at every tackle and every brilliant end zone run. So find a pee-wee game to watch sometime. You'll thank me.

I was kissed last night...

For those staying tuned to the strangeness that is my life: You can add that little gem. A girl barely home from her mission stuck her tongue in my mouth. Wow.

Vacation is like Masturbation...

You're only screwing yourself.

Vacation has kinda sucked thus far. Actually it was great when all I was doing was playing with nieces and nephews. Now I'm in Utah and will be for almost a week longer. It'll get better... right? Right?

Crisis Speed-Dial

Mine looks something like this:

1. The distraction: This friend doesn't need to know anything about your trauma, they know what to do and where to take you to help you forget. If they didn't like you so much as the good Mormon you were, they'd get you sloshed cause numbness might do more to help than anything.

2. The logician: This friend is usually a guy who can tell you how it is straight and get you thinking in a healthy, logical fashion instead of a dismal, over-emotional one.

3. The sympathetic girl: She cares more about your situation than probably anybody. She wants you to tell her everything and she'll listen attentively. She'll tell you what it's like from the other side but she won't defend them. She wants you to be happy, and if lying or giving you false hope does the trick she'll lie her ass off.

4. The Booty Call: This beautiful girl adores you so much she'll shower you with meaningless romantic affection to help you feel wanted again. Sometimes she wishes it was real, sometimes you do too. But it'll never come up. It's understood.

5. Cursive: As in the emo band from Oklahoma. Get in your car, put "The Ugly Organ" album on repeat and descend into the abyss.

6. Al Green: A mandatory pick-me-up after depression hour with Cursive.

7. The sister: Usually Lori, sometimes Erika... If it gets to this point I'm pretty desperate.

8. The Lord: Yeah, he should probably be first on speed-dial, but it usually takes me a while to get in the posture to call him.

Perhaps none of them will make you feel less shitty, but you try them all anyway. Hopefully some of them are home.

My Last Weekend in New York (Long Version)

Aaah, New York... we've had some good times indeed. I spent my last weekend in your glorious streets and subways having a hell of a good time with my friends. Thanks to everyone who came to Friday night's revisit of karyoke splendor...particularly John: We blew them away again. Thanks to the Bostonians who enjoyed with me a magnificent Saturday. Marie and I enjoyed a great breakfast on the lower-East side and an astonishingly beautiful community garden in the East Village. We also skulked around a lovely Catholic church and took our sweet time finding a way to Chelsea, where we joined up with Julie and Seth to wander through galleries and the Chelsea Market. I resisted fainting on Canal Street for 15 minutes before undertaking an Improv Everywhere mission at Madison Square Park. We shopped in slow motion and froze in place along with 200 or so other cohorts (Seth with his hand on Julie's tuchas)in the lower Manhattan Home Depot. We spent hours in the Met, and despite it being my 4th visit, I still went away wishing I'd seen more. I witnessed a dazed Marie under "art-overdose" and had a great chat with Julie. We finished the night with a dinner in the village, and I finally relaxed my aching arches. Sunday was enjoyed in exactly 4 places...a warm shower, church, chinatown, and my bed. In the morning I packed and made final arrangements to fly home. I saved my goodbyes to New York for my brief return in mid-September before I begin the next chapter in the saga known as Mooney's life.

Pictures at flickr

My Last Weekend In New York (Short Version)

Holy crap I'm exhausted! I love you people so much, but 60+ hours/no break with anybody is kinda tough. I'm now going to sleep. Expect a real version of this post within a couple of days.

Love, Jared.

Does that make me crazy? Probably.

My first Vlog. Enjoy.

"Value Added"

In the ad sales world of Broadcast Radio/TV there's a term used to describe benefits given for purchasing a spot that are bonuses on top of the deal. For example, if I was selling Dial Hand Soap a radio ad, I might tell them that in addition to the exposure given them in the actual airtime, I would also post their advertisements on the station's website and at remote functions and promotions. These additional benefits are called "value added" incentives.

I've been in a fight with the Lord about my work situation for close to a month now. And by fight, I mean he's been nagging me and I've been trying to ignore him. He wanted me to ask myself why I felt unsettled about staying New York. I didn't want to deal with that. I've also felt a lean towards moving to Boston. So I decided to exercise some faith (or perhaps just quit being stubborn), and at least distribute resumes and look for some jobs in Bean Town. Well, he showed me again why I should listen to him more often. Because he knows how to make me happy, a lot better than I do.

On my first day, my (now very good) buddy Tim randomly mentioned that he might be able to get me a job at the Center for Digital Imaging Arts, a part of Boston University, teaching post-production audio and recording arts. I would have never thought to look into schools. I came with resumes for post-houses and studios. But it turned out to be a really great opportunity. He set me up with an informal sort of interview which went better than I could have possibly hoped and huzzah... two days later I have a job. I feel so much more at peace with this, than the idea of freelancing in New York. Everything else has worked out around it too. The time I need to start, my lease ending just on time, it's really been perfect.

Which leads me back to value-added: Not only do I get to live in a less expensive, more wonderfuller city, which is beautiful and inspiring, and have a really great job at a place I feel like I can contribute in a monumental way... I also get to live close to some of my best friends, not the least of whom are Marie and Kylee. Value-added. In short, I'm sold. Slap a Red-Sox cap on me and call me a townie.

Dear Magnificent,

"The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" was a cool book as well. More recommendations from you please. I read your copy at your house this weekend. Funny enough, my copy from Amazon is probably gonna be in my mail stack when I get back to New York... oh well.

Splitting hairs.

I got a haircut.

My Studio is my Home.

I think perhaps only engineers and artists can understand this, but my studio (specifically the room in which I house my recording equipment, but more generally applied, the space where I create) is my secret garden, my inner sanctum, my creative Eden. It just occured to me, in large part, why I feel unsettled. I have lived without a home for 3 months. I rent a room in Harlem where I sleep, read books, check the internet, and even play guitar, but this room has failed to become my home. I finally will bring my studio with me when I return from AZ/UT. And because I am poor, my bedroom and studio will be the same place (but such is life as a renter), but that doesn't matter. I will have a home again.

I will share with you my secret plan for my new studio. The room will be a bright color as opposed to the dark I typically choose. I will hang acoustics and art as appropriate but I will comission a wall from Kristi, a wall from Adam (you'll have to find a way to get out here at some point), and 3rd awesome artist yet to be discovered. I want to give 3 artists a blank wall and $100 (not an appraisal of their work I'm just poor), and let them create. I feel this will Christen my studio as a space for creating and foster a good mood in the room. I'll leave the back wall for visitors, recording artists, and whoever to leave their mark. Good plan. Yes? No? In any case, I'm excited about it so you should be too.

Last week of my internship.

So this is the last week of my internship at Avatar. It's been a good learning experience. I'm supposed to do a critique for the studio manager, Tino about the experience with positive/negatives. I figured that might interest some of y'all since I've been asked much about my work there.

First of all, I have to say I hoped I could have spent more time at the studio. I really enjoyed the chance to be singled off with an individual mentor/engineer, but I felt like it limited the amount we could learn. I feel particularly blessed to have been assigned with Anthony who took a lot of chances to teach me and learn from me as well. He catered the hours we spent to what would help me most and assisted me to learn the most popular large-format console in the industry (the SSL 9000J) with great fluency. He familiarized me with much of the gear I was less familiar with and passed on some great tips. I feel like the biggest skill I developed was much more effective mic selection and placement, as that was a primary responsibility on every session.

I would have like to spent some more time in ProTools and on the console(s) than I did. I have owned my own studio now for many years so the distance from ProTools made me feel like less of an engineer. I also wished part of the internship included some time with Tino learning the business side of it too, but I understand he's a pretty busy guy keeping the studio booked. Although unexpected, I learned from the artists too, especially the Brand New guys. They knew what they wanted their sound to be like and we could work together on getting the guitar tones and drum sounds just right.

Premium words indeed.

I know you've left for China, but I should have gotten more book recommendations before you left. I can't remember the last time I read a book in less than 24 hours, but I couldn't repose or manufacture a single Z until I'd finished it last night/ this morning. It was awesome. I was moved. I'm not sure everything, but much was illuminated for me. How beautifully can words be butchered? Now I'm near death for want of sleep, so I'm to bed.

Everything is Illuminated.

Started reading it today. Struck by this:

"I have thought without end of what you said about falling in love with her. In truth, I never fathomed it when you uttered it in Ukraine. But I am certain that I fathom it now. I examine her once when it is morning, and once before I manufacture Z's, and on every instance I see something new, some manner in which her hairs produce shadows, or her lips summarize angles."

Good night. Even in broken English, that's beautiful.

Eric Clapton stole George Harrison's Wife.

With an uber-guitar rock song called "Layla". I saw my Eric Clapton lamp tonight (thanks again Kris) and was reminded of this. It's an amazing story in rock history actually. And I will share it with you:

First of all, I needn't remind you that George Harrison was an effing Beatle (in fact, a "SIR Effing Beatle" by that time, and Clapton was still a couple decades away from being knighted). Now it could be argued that "Clapton [was] God" in England, but really this was just the opinion of a particularly active Grafittist in the greater London area. George had always had an impressive list of best friends (i.e. Bob Dylan, who introduced he and the rest of the Beatles to Marijuana and Ravi Shankar who introduced George to meditation, the sitar, and lsd; we can probably assume he knew all about "Cocaine" by the time he and Clapton met).

George and Patty were not even on the rocks at the time. In fact all of the Beatles, though broken up, were in the most stable relationships of their careers John with Yoko; Paul with Linda; Ringo with a guitar. This was purely a case of rocking your best friend's girl away from him. The most amazing part of the story is that they made up (fairly quickly) and were still best friends after this. Now that my friends, is "bro's before ho's".

p.s. The original name for this post was "Wah-na-nana-nana-nah!!! Wee Doo Doo Doo Doo!!!" But I figured without direct reference to Layla nobody would get it.

Heat.

So, the studio is always a pretty welcome place after walking in the heat. It's between 72 and 76 in there all the time. It's so cold in there, that it's actually usually refreshing to walk out into the bright afternoon when I leave. Not today. The heat was so instantly assaulting I was nearly choked on my first warm breath. It's supposed to be even hotter tomorrow. I've lived in AZ my whole life and Alabama/ Mississippi. But damn if New York isn't the hottest place I've ever lived.

One of my better experiences.

Hey, so I think I've explained to some of you that I'm not allowed to say who's in the studio until they've left. So Brand New has been in since June. (They're one of my favorite bands) Well, they just finished the 3rd album and it sounds really good. I might still like Deja Entendu better, but this is the best quality recording. Great songs too. So make sure and get it whenever it gets released. I set up mics on each session and even engineered a little, but you won't see me in the credits cause I'm an intern. This is one of the frustrations of being the peon, but when I come back I will at least start to get 2nd engineer credits on stuff I assist on.