Just a Spoonful of Moxie

Pro-Choice, This Is What You Are Choosing

2009-12-11T09:09:00.000-08:00

Keep You're Eye On This Kid

2009-07-08T10:51:00.001-07:00

Here Lies Josh Ryan Dead, A Great Big Rock Fell On His Head...

2009-04-23T01:28:00.000-07:00

tombstone

I did this before, but I thought I'd like to do it again now that I'm different. I'm reposting this.

I would like anyone who reads this to write my future obituary. I know it seems grim but I wonder what people would say about me after I'm gone. Would people say GOOD things? Have I made any kind of positive difference AT ALL? Please be honest if you write one and please- no joke obituaries. I can already see people writing, "Josh Ryan - He was really weird," and that could get old real fast. I want you to write it as if you were asked to if I really died. (Don't worry. I'm not killing myself or anything.) I just want to know what people think and if and how people's thinking would change if I suddenly wasn't here tomorrow. Would I suddenly become a sensitive, influential young man who touched people's lives and will be missed? Or would people still think I was an @$$hole?

Please post my obituary as a comment below. Thank you for participating!

A List Of Some Of My Favorite Films

2009-04-21T09:36:00.000-07:00

- All Time Favorite:
The Night Of The Hunter

Other favorite films for one reason or another:
Death Becomes Her
Haunted Honeymoon
The 'Burbs
A Night At The Opera
Young Frankenstein
Little Shop Of Horrors
The Three Amigos
Throw Momma From The Train
Psycho
Falling Down
12 Angry Men
To Kill A Mockingbird
The Passion Of The Christ
300
Apocolypto
The Color Purple
Radio Flyer
Back To The Future I, II, & III
The Grass Is Greener
L.A. Story
Parenthood
Rope
Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves
Shenandoah
Joe Vs. The Volcano
Ferris Bueller's Day Off
The Princess Bride
The War Of The Roses
The Razor's Edge (1984)
Fried Green Tomatoes
Sybil
Groundhog Day
The Chase
Cool Hand Luke
Cellular
The Fugitive
American History X

I Change.

2009-04-07T20:29:00.000-07:00

In going back over my previous blog entries, I noticed that this seems to be changing into an abortion awareness blog. It started out as an online journal, yet it has somehow ended up lately with a bunch of videos about abortion. This fact causes me to reflect on how I have grown lately.

#1. I am a much better communicator than I used to be. I make friends more easily and perhaps choose friends a little more wisely.

#2. I feel that I am being called. I feel God's purpose in my life at this time. Over and over, the words, "Prepare for battle" reverberate in my heart and in my head. Not "Go into battle" just yet, just "Prepare for battle." And the battle seems to have to do with abortion. So I have been doing my research and educating myself so that when it is actually time to GO into battle (whatever that will mean), I will be well equipped with the facts and flexible enough to have effective conversations. I seem to be turning into some kind of activist. In some ways I feel like a hippy. Yet it is important to me not to piss people off and yell at them. It is also important to me to not be seen as some religious nut. I keep the conversation very scientific and factual so that even if someone doesn't believe in God, they may still understand what is happening. I do not wish to be seen as a "protester." Rather, I feel that my calling is to start conversations. For the last eight years, I have been in the barbershop feeling like I have just been wasting my time. I now understand that during those eight years, I was being taught how to talk with people. So far, I have seen some real positive change in people around me because of conversations I've had with them. I have also had the opportunity and ability to de-escalate a few situations of intense anger and emotion among some people very dynamically. And I somehow understand that my life is about to become very intense in the somewhat near future. I don't fear it, I embrace it. Perhaps my unfortunate experiences in my youth were big chunks being chiseled away at me. And for the last years in the barbershop, I was being sanded down to be ready for what is to come. Perhaps now, I am being polished.

#3. For the first time I feel more than ever like I am "dead to sin." Some things that were strong temptations to me in the past are not tempting me. Sin is a name for that which separates you from God. I feel that through reconciliation and repentance, much of that sin- that separation- has been removed. I feel that my life is being lived much more within the spiritual realm. I have become more sensitive- more aware of things going on that are unseen and supernatural (for lack of a better word.) I am starting to feel the presence of angels and demons and the interplay between good and evil more acutely. I am more aware of influence, like a fog. I realize that this kind of language sounds a little nuts. But that is not what it is. I feel saner than I ever did. I am not losing touch with reality; quite the contrary. I feel a heightened sense of reality. I experience more than I used to. It's almost like a blind man suddenly gaining sight. Or it's like being able to see more colors all of the sudden like a fly. There are more colors in the spectrum than what the human eye picks up, and flies can see more of them. It feels like that. There are more things going on of which most people are not aware. Now that I am dead to sin, I am more alive and awake within the spiritual realm and I notice more. It feels like the temporal world is more connected to the spiritual and the Holy than I realized. And as a consequence, for better or for worse, my everyday life has taken on more of an Apocalyptic flavor.

#4. Things also may change for me professionally. I started drawing again after ten years and the work I am doing seems to be impressive to most people. Right now I am focusing mainly on western, Native American, and Historical subject matter. If it takes off, we could have the opportunity to move out of the area.

#5. Another thing that may change is my barbering career. I competed in my first barbering contest at the Global Hair and Beauty Expo in Sacramento and won. It seems to have triggered some events that point to me rising to some kind of authority or celebrity status in the world of hair and barbering. I am suddenly becoming a recognizable figure among the hair industry. This could lead to me taking airplanes somewhat often, educating and demonstrating on stages in front of thousands of people, and meeting and grooming celebrities. We shall see. One thing was certain: as the day of the expo wore on, because of the work I did in the contest and after the contest, thousands of people knew my name and wanted to know what I know. One woman came up to me and told me that she wanted just to touch my hands. (That was pretty strange.) Some of the judges of the contest told me that they want me start flying places with them and start shooting instructional videos and such. In the morning I was a competitor, in the evening I was not only a champion, but a commodity. I am now a product. Weird. I went out to dinner with some of the judges. The next day, I got a call from the corporate office of the largest selling series of instructional barbering dvds in the world. So we will see what happens. If this takes off, it could also be an opportunity to move out of the area.

Through the whole experience over the weekend, I never participated in any temptation that may have been there. And I know that there was plenty of it, but I was more concerned with other things. It feels wonderful to be able to say that.

Genocide Awareness Project

2009-04-07T19:55:00.000-07:00

Generally I think that huge posters with aborted fetuses are ineffective. But when done in this context, I think it can be effective. And it has to come from a source that is not necessarily religion-based. The argument is not merely a religious argument; it is a scientific argument that incorporates the constitution, history, and psychology. Even if you take religion out of the equation, these are still crimes against humanity. People need to understand what is going on and the only way to do that is to make it (more) obvious. It may seem extreme to some, but it is an extreme horror that is taking place in your city every day. These images are disturbing. But they are also true. And they are disturbing the same way pictures of any act of extreme violence is disturbing. Is it not more disturbing that this goes on everywhere everyday and people don't seem to mind? Seeing these pictures isn't nearly as bad as seeing the big picture. Seeing people fight so hard to allow these things to keep happening will make me throw up faster than seeing someone's severed head on a poster. Heck, we see severed heads on the movie screen all the time. So there must be something else...some other reason these people become so angry. And I think I know what it is...

Fear.

(This is a good one.)

2009-03-12T09:26:00.001-07:00

Mararet Sanger & Barack Obama

2009-03-12T09:17:00.001-07:00

Obama's Agenda

2009-03-12T08:56:00.001-07:00

Obama Doesn't Mind

2009-03-12T08:54:00.000-07:00

Watch Obama Dance!

2009-02-28T23:17:00.000-08:00

Change

2009-02-28T23:04:00.000-08:00

The Silent Scream

2009-02-20T20:21:00.000-08:00

The Overly Obvious Truth

2009-02-20T20:18:00.000-08:00

Rap Battle Translated

2008-10-13T00:10:00.000-07:00

It has previously been explained to me that rap is a superior form of music, far surpassing the likes of Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach as well as more contemporary musicians such as Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, Louis Armstrong, or Cole Porter. This is due to the fact that rap "has a good beat." Beyond this, it has also been explained to me that rap is a form of poetry. These claims have always offended me because I like poetry. I also love music. Thus far, I have been quite in disagreement with these claims. I have defended music and poetry against what I thought was a vicious attack on these forms as well as a degredation on all things beautiful and pure. Up until now I have not understood to what depths of the soul some of these rap artists will penetrate. I'm amazed at the beauty behind the lyrics and the miraculous way in which the music can bring about peace between people. What I have seen leaves Mozart in the dust. I have learned that music doesn't need notes to be beautiful. It just needs a beat. Up until now, I have always thought that the great majority of the lyrical content contained in rap has been of a negative mindset, bringing forth hatred, violence and disrespect. How could I have been so wrong?

Below is a video of a "free-style battle" that has been translated into language that most non-rap-listeners can understand. All of the inner-city slang has been removed and the lyrics have been boiled down to it's originally intended message. A message that leads to unity, peace, and understanding.

glumbert - Free-Style Rap Battle - Translated

Invasion! (Part 2)

2008-08-23T01:23:00.000-07:00

The more I hear rap, the more I'm convinced that aliens from outer space are taking over the bodys of young earthlings. And whoever these aliens are, they must be a bunch of morons.

Separate From People

2008-07-27T00:46:00.000-07:00

I recently quit Voices In Harmony. This way I can work more and save money to pay off medical bills. So instead of going to rehearsal Tuesday nights, I have been lurking about the Golden Chordsmen rehearsals from time to time to coach a little and observe. That's the chorus I was in when I started harmony singing and it's the one my wife directs. Hanging around again reminds me of how I felt when I left Golden Chordsmen and started singing with VIH. When I got there, I found a big group of like-minded people who were discontent to sing and perform at a mediocre level. I made friends there. I was part of it and it became part of me. I realized how much I had in common with them. So when I quit and started hanging around Golden Chordsmen again, I really realized how much I DON"T have in common with THEM. I really can't relate to them now because I don't understand how they could show up week after week and not get any better. I don't know why many of them won't try. I don't understand why some of those who are trying aren't getting that much better. Then it occured to me: If they were serious about it, they'd be singing with VIH. When I got serious, that's where I went. I just outgrew the Chordsmen, that's all. I am just different from them. That doesn't make them bad guys, it just makes them like most people: Addicted to mediocrity. So rather than try to indoctrinate them into excellence which I tried at first to do, I find it best now to just see a movie or visit a bookstore Tuesday nights. It's sad, but it's the way it is. I miss singing with VIH and I get zero satisfaction from attending Golden Chordsmen rehearsals. I feel very separate from the people I used to be connected with.

So to cheer myself up and see some old friends, I recently went to an afterglow (after-party) that VIH had in San Jose after a big show. It felt good so sing with some singers, let me tell you. It was nice to see everyone and they were all happy to see me and very supportive of me. It was almost like I never left. But the fact is: I did. I wasn't on stage with them on that show. I wasn't on stage with them in Nashville last month when they won their International Bronze Medals. I am starting to read e-mails sent to the group about things they've been talking about during rehearsals that I haven't been to and songs that I haven't learned or heard. VIH has a life that is going on without me. And even though I have a lot in common with them and feel like I will always be welcome and capable among them, I am not part of the chorus anymore. And so in that way I feel separate from my friends.

My mom lives far away and she doesn't understand me that well. We get along, but I've grown up and become my own man, different from her. I have my own family now. My own household which is defined and emancipated from the household I used to share with my mother. And even though we talk more than we used to, in those ways I feel more separate from my mother nowadays.

Certain facts about my friend Robb have come to light as of late. Robb was Best Man at my wedding. But it has become clear that we have some fundamental philisophical differences. I can live with that and accept him fully as my friend, but I fear that the more we interact, the more those differences have the potential to get in the way of our conversation and friendship. He lives far away now. And for a long time we didn't speak because he didn't call me. And when he did finally, it was to tell me about the things he's been keeping from me. So it doesn't work to pick up the friendship where we left off because it is not the same friendship. Besides each of us doing a lot of changing in the last few years, he is a slightly different person than I thought he was -which, as I see it, has consequences which make him a very different person than who I thought he was. The person I thought he was now becomes something that I percieved and nothing more. A figment of my imagination. The things that he shared with me in and of themselves wouldn't be enough to disolve our friendship; but the implications of this thing and the contraditions that it charges to the rest of what I thought were his core beliefs are what make the impact. You can't serve two masters. And the fact that he avoided contact with me for so long so as not to have to address the issue reveals to me a tremendous amount about the nature of his true character. So my grand illusion of a strong, well adjusted, couragious man who was very much a mentor and possitive roll model to me in my early years falls away entirely into my memory leaving behind a man who has acted cowardly and has demonstrated some gross fundamental contradictions in his spiritual and emotional development who avoids nearly everyone and everything in his past by running away. Someone who seems to regret who he was when he was my mentor and roll model. Even with all this, I can accept this new aquaintence as a person. But our friendship has been severely damaged and abused. I feel very separate from my friend Robb.

For a while a good friendship was blooming between Uncle John and me. Instead of interacting as a grown-up uncle with his child nephew, we got along as two adults. For a while we could share humor and good conversation. We were able to share our faith and celebrate it together. But when he started to go to this church that he goes to he started changing. He has become so judgemental lately that I can barely have a conversation with him. Rather than talk about the things we have in common regarding our faith or anything else, it seems like all he wants to talk about are differences between the way he and I believe. I feel like I'm talking to a Pharosee. When I asked him if he wanted to go to my son's baptism, rather than go there and support us in the spiritual development of our son as we understand it, he refuses. He chooses not to celebrate that with us. He decides to turn his back on this blessed event because it's not the way they do it at his church. My son is being baptized in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. But to hear my uncle talk, it would seem as if it's not the same Jesus Christ as "Uncle John's" Jesus Christ. I love my uncle and I can still get along with him, but I regret to have to say that he has made it impossible to celebrate our belief in God together. Fellowship should be enlightening. Not fingerpointing. It's great to see someone so vigilant and unyielding in their faith, but not at the expence of understanding, compassion, and patience (which ARE the faith.) Of course I'm far from perfect and my temper gets in the way at times, but I do try for the most part to have people see a friend in me. I try to allow for Jesus to reveal himself to people through me. I am not seeing Christ through my uncle right now like I have in the past. It's great that he's found a church he likes, but believe you me- any church that causes a person to become what he seems to be becoming is not any kind of church I would want to be a part of and I believe not the kind of church that Jesus Christ as I understand him would want to be responsible for. And to be quite frank, I am worried about what will happen to my uncle if he continues down the path he seems to be headed. I am feeling separate from my Uncle John.

My grandparents...
I don't like to use my children's real names here, so let's pretend that my youngest boy's name is "Fred." When Grandpa Frank was getting his haircut from me the other day, I mentioned that Sunday is Fred's baptism. He said, "Who?" I said, "Fred." "Who's Fred?"
(Not that I'm surprised. It's a wonder he even knows my name.) For a while I was trying to form a closer relationship with my grandparents, but I have decided to stop trying. I have always felt separate from them. I have always felt separate from most of my family for that matter.

In the mean time, and to end on a more possitive note, I will say that I have been growing closer to my wife and children. We are becoming stronger and more connected as a family as time goes on.

And, as always, I try every day to develope a closer relationship to God.

A Letter That I Wrote To The Governor

2008-03-09T14:07:00.000-07:00

"Dear Mr. Schwarzenegger,

First let me say that I think you are doing a terrific job as governor and I have been in support of most of your decisions and proposals so far. We have needed someone in public office for a long time who can do what you do. It seems as though things are going well for you and better for California.

I'll get to the point. One of the things that makes California what it is- what makes it great- is the wide variety of ways to live life to the fullest. To enjoy whatever it is that you want to enjoy. There is a great freedom in this. If a person wants to, he can go surfing in the morning and skiing the very same afternoon. We have big cities and we have small rural farming towns. One of the ways we can enjoy ourselves is to go camping in the wonderful state parks that we have. There is nothing more precious to me than to take my family camping. From where we are, it's just as easy to hop in the car and take the children camping as it would be to drive into the city and see a ballet. I go with my family camping often and we all enjoy it. It's one of the only things in this hectic world that makes us feel like a family. Makes us forget the problems in the economy and the many other harsh realities of the modern world. The one challenge for us is that my children are so small at this point that they don't yet do well with long steep hikes and large, overly crowded state parks. When we go camping, we usually go to Portola Redwoods State Park. What attracts us there is that we don't have to put up with a whole lot of other people walking through and making noise. And it works well for the children because we don't have to hike in from some parking lot. It's close, convinient, and quiet. There are not enough of these kinds of places. And California has always been known for them. Thank goodness we have a place like that to enjoy. Then I looked at the newspaper.

"GOVERNOR MAKES PLANS TO CLOSE STATE PARKS!"

And sure enough that one, and a few others we've come to enjoy are right on the list. And the first thing that I thought about was this: Where has California gone? The culture has changed so much that the state parks are one of the only things left that make California what it is. (That, and the Golden Gate Bridge...)The state parks ARE California. The nostalgic images of the western frontier. California is where the pioneers had to stop because they couldn't go any further. It's the one state in the nation that fully represents the spirit of freedom and independance. The spirit of adventure. Without these places available, there is no California. These kinds of places are what people think about when they think of California. If you take these away, where am I and others like me going to take our families camping? How am I going to teach them about the outdoors? Do I have to wait five years until they're big enough to hike down three rocky miles to the campsite at the next closest park, Castle Rock? (I love Castle Rock State Park, too. I just can't bring the kids there yet.) Where is THEIR California?

I understand the need to cut back on spending and try to save money. But what's the use of fixing the budget if we are robbing California of it's true essence? If the big cities like San Francisco, Sacramento, and Los Angeles are the brains of California, the little peacful state parks are it's heart. Without a heart, what good is a man? And so without it's heart, what good is California? The human heart pumps blood through the body and supplies nutrients to the organs and muscles in order to keep the body going. In the same way, our open spaces and forests seem to bring an attitude of courage, hope, steadfastness, and perseverance to the rest of California. These are the nutrients that keep us going. It's what makes us remember who we are and what we stand for as Californians. There are many things that California can do without, but the state parks are not among them. Because by taking them away, many of us feel as if it is taking away some of our freedom with it. It would be like taking away Disneyland or the Golden Gate Bridge. Our beautiful beaches. Without the forests we are just another state. But with them, California lays claim to what no one else has: the Golden West! Without them, I (and several others like me), are just working stiffs trying to support our families with nothing to pass on to them. But as Californians, we've always felt like we had the right to call ourselves the last of the true pioneers. And if more of these parks stay open, perhaps we won't be the last after all.

I don't know if other people besides the Governor reads these emails and responds to them, but if that's the case, I respectfully request that the Governor reads this himself with his own eyes. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Josh Ryan
and Family"

Busier Than a One Legg-ed Man in an @$$-Kickin' Contest

2007-12-13T10:17:00.000-08:00

I have figured out that the reason I haven't been writing is not because I don't have anything to say, but because I'm usually holding a baby and only have one hand available at most.

We Are The Music Makers

2007-09-22T08:40:00.000-07:00

I recently started singing in a new mixed quartet. (Mixed meaning two men, two women.) One of the women is my wife. She has been singing most of the melody and the rest of us are harmony parts. We don't sing barbershop in this quartet. It's a lot of jaz vocal arrangments that resemble The Pied Pipers and The Modernaires and such. The other two members in the group like stuff like the Hi-Lo's and Manhatten Transfer, but my wife and I could care less about the more modern stuff. We like the groups that used to sing with the big bands.

I always knew my wife was a good singer. She has been a music teacher for a number of years and I always knew she was a good teacher. But it really wasn't until I started singing with her that I realized just how accomplished she was. When you sing with someone, you can really tell. She is the best, most well trained female singer I know. In my chorus, there are some excellent male singers, but they are mostly really good at barbershop music for the most part. My wife can sing just about any type of music. You ought to hear her sing opera. I hope that once the children get a little older, that she goes into opera again. It's a really enjoyable experience to make music with her and learn from her.

A Writer Writes- Always

2007-08-26T22:55:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a while since I've written anything here. I've just been so busy. But one thing I plan on doing is writing more often at least a little bit. I find that I learn something about myself when I go back and read some of the things I've written. I've never been that great with coming up with the right words while speaking, but when I write, I find it easier. The only problem is that sometimes things get taken out of context because of the lack of inflection, tone of voice, body language, etc. that you'd experience in person. However, many great men have had some pretty extrordinary things to say without the benifit of person to person contact. Some things are just so perfectly expressed in words alone that all those other things are there without being there. I would like to become a better writer. But I never will unless I write, I suppose. So here I go.

Four Things They Never Tell You About Having Children

2007-04-21T20:09:00.000-07:00

#1. When they are tiny, you wish they would hurry up and get bigger.

#2. When they get bigger, you wish they were tiny again.

#3. You're always covered with food. (It's your own. You're always eating with one hand.)

#4. You get kicked in the balls a LOT.

Burritos

2007-04-07T00:22:00.000-07:00

When I was slightly fat, I used to get carnitas (pork) in my burrito. But now that I'm a hunky-stud, I always have chicken. I noticed that when one eats a burrito, the first few bites usually consist of just rice and/or beans. You don't get to the meat until a few bites into it. Then the burrito really "starts." I don't feel like the burrito has "started" until I taste the meat and sour cream and salsa and all that stuff.

For lent, I've been trying not to eat meat on Fridays. So if I get a burrito on Friday, I get it without any meat. The funny thing is that without meat, the whole burrito feels like the first few bites of a regular burrito with meat. The whole burrito feels as though it hasn't really "started yet."

Not Complaining, Just Giving News

2007-03-04T08:44:00.000-08:00

After having the baby, we've had one problem after another. First, my wife had to recover from the C-section. Then, she developed an infection from nursing which went back and fourth from her and the baby. And then she developed another infection because of the first one. That one gave her the chills so bad that we ended up seeing the doctor. Then our two year old got sick for a week and a half with a real bad stomache bug that's been really going after a bunch of kids. And while she was busy throwing up all week, she got an ear infection. Right when she was feeling better, my wife had a gallblader attack and spent a night in the hospital. She will have to get it removed within the next few weeks. All these things have made me miss a lot of sleep and I'm almost useless at work.

But hey, we can't complain. At least we've got our health!

P.S. Bob ended up not working out. Nice guy, but you got to show up once in a while, you know?

Overdue Update

2007-01-15T08:55:00.000-08:00

Well folks, I haven't written about what's been happening in my life lately because I've been too busy living it. Here's what's new:

The baby's due soon.

I've started the tattooing and I think I'm getting the hang of it pretty well.

The shop's been very busy and I'm looking forward to getting Bob the new barber in there. I hope it doesn't take to long to get him up to snuff. It's a long process and requires consistancy.

Voices In Harmony, the chorus in which I've been singing for the last six months or so went to district contest and did well enough to go to International. International is on the same week as we would normally go to Whispering Pines and so I may miss all of Whispering Pines. I may have a few days at the beginning of the week free before I leave so maybe we'll go for a day or two. So far the Chorus places seventh in the world and by the time we compete at international, we're hoping for a shot in the top five.

I feel as though I've been slowly but surely becoming a nicer, kinder, gentler person. I have always had everyone's best interests in mind but most people can't seem to handle seeing that far into any given interaction with me. So I have been sort of dumbing things down for people in my interactions with some of them and I seem to be making more progress with them and not less, so I must be doing something right. I suppose it's just a fact of life that people don't understand stuff. And I've learned over my life and a lot over the last year or so that people are often addicted to mediocrity. On one hand it's hard to accept that, but on the other hand it's helpful to know that when dealing with people.

The other way I've changed within the past year or so is that these days I try to see the person for what they are inside like Jesus would. Up until now I have been always trying to help people by trying to get them to see and break down their outward shells. I would see some phony person and point out how silly it was that they would think that they were fooling anyone into thinking that that was really them. I had figured that if they knew how sad they looked they would want to change it. Or if they could see that they were keeping themselves in a prison with the way they were living, they would want to break out. But most people just sort of rebel and their outward images get more impenetrable and they choose to get worse. So instead of holding up the mirror and letting them know what I was seeing, I have now been trying to not see those things at all. If people put up walls and I start chiseling at it, they're only going to put up more walls. But I I don't see those walls and I look right through them, they will see that the walls are not doing any good and so they will not keep putting them up. And this way I can sort of communicate with the real person inside instead of talking to the "wall." If the real person on the inside grows as a person, eventually they will see that they are bigger than these walls. They may decide they don't want in a prison anymore. Then they may break out. They may decide to move on and abandon their old image like a butterfly leave behind his cocoon. So by building people up on the inside, they change from the inside out. To me, it seems like a slower process but a slow process is better than nothing happening. If you put a roast in the oven at a high heat for a short time, the outside may be cooked but the inside will remain pink and unchanged. And if you keep doing it, the outside is just going to get more and more burnt. But if you put it at low heat for a longer time, the whole thing will cook evenly and the inside will be just as well prepared as the outside. I think the same is true with people. (Only with people you have to get a bigger oven...)

Failure and Success

2006-09-01T08:13:00.000-07:00

Well, friends, plans have changed. If you'll refer to the previous entry entitled "Little Barbershop Of Greatness" from back in April of 2005 you will know to what I'm refering. And now don't I feel like a fool talking these guys up like that! (If you haven't read the entry, I suggest that you read it first. Otherwise you might get a little lost. Look through April's archives. Or go to the top of this page and search this blog.)
Anyway, what a waste of a golden oppertunity! If these guys had stuck with it, we really could have had something! But they didn't. They gave up. Quit. Maybe it was too much for them. Let me start by telling what happened.

They went all through barber school. And they graduated. They are now licenced barbers. All the while we had been rehearsing as a quartet with John G. as our tenor who isn't a barber. John G. can be rather difficult. As a quartet, we were progressing quite nicely at first. (You may read a little bit about that topic in the entry, "What Happens At Harmony College West Stays At Harmony College West.") I was impressed. We took two inexperienced singers and discovered that if they worked hard, they could really get good. Dan the bass already had a feel for singing that way but Chris the lead needed a lot of help. The weekend that we spent at Harmony College West showed me a glimmer of his potential. I knew that he could sound good eventually if he worked at it. But he was going to have to really work at it. Without really working at it, the quartet would only stay at a C or C- level. But I wanted the quartet to achieve an A level. (Or at least a B or B+.) But not even close!

So, I had them each working for me three days a week each, separately from each other. I was working six days a week in order to effectively train them. Dan was coming along. But he got all high and mighty. (If either Dan, Chris, or John are reading this, please don't get all upset and defensive; I am merely telling the story as I experienced it.) Dan would come to work in these bad moods where he was unapproachable. He would look like a little kid in time out. And you couldn't talk to him about anything when he was like that. He got mad, too, because I made him cover up his tattoo on his forearm and take out his hoop earings. Not that I cared that he had a tattoo. (Obviously if you know me, you know that that couldn't have been the whole issue at all.) But with him always being in a bad mood all the time, I wanted to present him in the best possible light to the customers as I could. A bad attitude is one strike against you with many people already. But a lot of people will look past that. And a tattoo is another strike.. Some people will never go to a barber with tattoos, period. But most people don't seem to mind them. There is nothing bad about a tattoo by itself as far as I'm concerned and as far as I think most people are concerned. But when a guy is all tattooed and has a bad attitude, he starts resembling the kind of character most people tend to try to stay away from. And I'm sorry, but the hoop earrings are just plain ridiculous! Add to that the fact that the guy doesn't know how to cut hair yet and that's three strikes against going to this barber. And all three of these things are visible by the time you get up to the chair. If it was just a matter of being new, that's ok for some people. IF they get a good experience in other ways. When you're new, you have to be Mr. Personallity in order to give people a reason to come back. And usually Dan was good with the customers who would go to him, but the disrespect that he showed me in front of customers was inexcusable. Not to mention that he quit and stormed out and caused a big scene in front of customers but then came back and apologized a few times during the first few weeks. Normally that would get you fired the first time but I figured that I'd give him the benefit of the doubt because I understand what it's like to have a temper. But as captain of this ship, my authority must be respected at all times. And when you get a guy who's always in a bad mood, who's visually unapproachable, who's still in his barbering "diapers" and who comes in the first day trying to tell me a thing or two about how to run my business and interact with my customers, no matter how nice of a guy he is in other ways, it soon becomes evident that this may not be the shop for him. So we hooked him up with a shop a few blocks away where we thought he'd be happier. The owner of that shop is an older man. And since Dan had no real father figure growing up, that's just what he needs. Dan is becoming successful there. It's probably not going to make as much money as what we could have had with my quartet idea, but it's a better fit for him. The other way may have been too much work him. He's much happier where he is and I'm happy for him. My shop is not a place for people to "eventually come around." In my shop, change is something to work at. Success must be reached for from the beginning. You have to reach out and grab it and devour it. And then work on the next thing. Where Dan is now, he has a little more freedom to just be himself and let change happen to him gradually. I may have tried to make him grow up too fast and that's not what he needs. Because that's the way I am. I constantly try to stay involved and actively participate in my evolution as a person. And when I recognize a need for change, I tackle it. (Most of the time, anyway; not all the time. We're all human.) But most of the time, I tackle it and move on to the next thing all the while making personal progress. But that's me. That's not the way Dan and Chris are. They are different from me. And for me to try to make them live how I live in that way is unfair. Dan is like that with the haircutting, but not in the rest of the ways that my shop requires. And there's nothing wrong with that, it's just the way it is.

Chris is a whole different story, boy howdy! At first, Chris was enthusiastic. He was mostly cooperative and pleasant to be around. His haircuts were not nearly at the point they should have been when he started, but I figured that that would come in time. The main thing was that he was willing to learn. And he had the kind of personallity that I thought would work well in the shop. So when we got Dan all set up in his new shop, I took on Chris full time. At first it was great. The haircuts were improving slowley but surely. And he was funny, pleasant, and personable. By this time, his singing wasn't really getting much better; he was still singing at a C- level when we would rehearse after work once a week. But since Dan wasn't working there anymore, Dan had not really been putting his all into the quartet and so Chris started not really caring about it either. And that's when I started noticing a change in him at work. His heart wasn't into it after a while and everyone could tell including our customers. Although his haircuts were improving, they were not at all up to any kind of standard in this country and I had to take a lot more time away from my own business than I should have in order to help him. (When someone is being trained, you need to take some time to help them at the end of most haircuts, but not a third of your time to do the whole haircut for him.) And after a short while, I noticed that his haircuts were starting to get worse and not better. And he didn't seem very interested in anything. His personallity had changed within a few weeks. He lost his humor. He would sit around looking pathetic. When a customer would come in, he would just kind of sigh and roll his eyes as if it was a great inconvenience that he had to actually get up and do a haircut. And the customers picked up on that. And no one would come to him because they knew he didn't know what he was doing and he wasn't trying in the slightest to be Mr. Personallity to make up for it. He told me that he wasn't interested in singing anymore and based on his personna at work, I knew that he was pretty much done with being a barber as well. So I tried one last time. I told him that I needed to see some enthusiasm and that he needed to be vigilant in his career otherwise he would never have any cusomers. He actually said, "eh...Screw enthusiasm." Meanwile, I was losing money every day trying to help him learn when he just kind of refused to learn. At times I would plead for people to give him a try promising that I would make the haircut look nice after he was done (which meant doing practically the whole thing for him) and I even told some people that Chris would do it for a lesser price in order to entice them. But Chris just kind of gave me the finger for trying to get people to come to him. He said that his haircuts were worth the full price and that I was selling him short. But gettin $15 for a haircut instead of $18 is better than sitting around getting $0 because you don't know what you're doing. And if you do it for $15 and people like you in other ways, that customer may come back and pay $18 next time. But if you make it clear that you'ld rather be cleaning toilets with your toung than cutting the guy' hair for $15, that's just more business for the barber up the street.

So needless to say it came to the point where I had to fire his @$$. And can you believe that he had the nerve to say that I "treated him like crap"? So I told him that I wasn't going to apologize for taking money out of my pocket and trying to put it directly in his! I mean, not only was I trying like mad to help him steal some of my customers so he could start to get established, but I was constantly losing money by doing all of his haircuts. Then he tried to say, "So the percentage of money that the shop gets that I put in the envelope every day is nothing?" But I flat out told him that with the effort that he was putting in, the shop was only making a certain amount off him every day. And I could cover that certain amount myself by doing a grand total of two haircuts. But the time that I was putting into making sure that each customer received a perfect haircut when they got out of his chair was way more than the time it would take to do two haircuts. I would say that it almost just about cut my earnings in half. And for him to complain and call me an @$$h0LE when I have done nothing but make sacrifices for him really honestly just hurt. But I'm not one to dwell on my missfortune as others I know. I decided that with only myself working in the afternoons in the shop, I would just work my keester off and take some money out of the place for a little while. And that's what I'm doing now. But it doesn't stop there.

Some of you know me. I need to evolve as an artist. I had been thinking for some time about learning the art of tattooing. And as I entertained this notion, I began thinking about how I might go about performing that kind of service on the side. A guy like me is likely to be the best around (I figure) if I really got it going and learned the craft. But I can't yet be the best around until I am experienced. And I can't become experienced until I start doing it. And I can't start doing it until I first learn how! And so I began researching. I started looking around to find out how to learn the art. (It's a hard thing to get into.) I talked to a few people about starting part time apprenticeships and was thinking everything over when...

Enter Bob.

John (the barber) and I were talking about the very subject of me learning tattooing when in walked a guy with some tattoos. I was pretty sure that he was a tattoo artist based on the way he was tattooed. Real nice guy. He's been a tattoo artist for fifteen years and is now looking for a bit of a change. So he's going to barber school. He came in because someone at the school told him about me. He wants to be a barber and still do tattoos on the side. Funny, that's exactly what I want to do. So we've agreed to trade tattooing lessons for barbering lessons.

I have been given some hope with this situation. I can see Bob and me working together. We have much in common. And it all seems rather mysterious that we just happened to meet and have exactly the same thing in mind. He's enthusiastic about this new idea about having a barbershop that is also a tattoo parlour in back. And I could be done in a way that is not seedy, but more upscale and old-fashioned. Now I know what some of you are thinking: Here Josh goes again getting his hopes up about an idea. But that's not the case. First of all, I have learned that things don't always work out like we think they will. And because of this, I'm fully prepared to carry on in my business if this thing doesn't work out. In other words, any transision to be made in the shop will not be allowed to become an interuption. It must add to the business from the start and not take away from it. Second, I've learned not to rush into decisions that effect the business. Like I told Bob, the biggest mistake we can make is to move to fast as far as major changes to the business are concerned. In every other way we should move with lightening speed. We should get each other up to speed in both the tattooing and barbering areas as quickly and as smoothly as possible. It will be to our great advantage if we can have Bob's haircuts looking totally profesional by the time he starts. That means that we must go full throttle with his training on our days off before he graduates from the barber school. I think it can be done pretty well, but we must act now and act consistantly.

The third and most important thing is that we have the most important things in common. With Dan and Chris I saw potential for a lot of things but we didn't connect on the deepest and yet most basic fundamental level. They were not believers or followers of Christ. And I think that every problem that they had in my shop was a direct or indirect result of it. For a non-believer, that might be hard to understand. But to a Christian, it makes perfect sense. You see, everything that a person does in life must be done out of faith. Everything we do should be part of God's plan. Every decision we make should be what God wants. Only then will things work out the way they are supposed to. And if you try to force it, it won't work. You have to let God arrange things. Our job is just to go with the flow, yet actively and involved. We have to participate in his plans rather than trying to forge our own plans. And Bob shares this view. One of the first things he told me was that he is a "church-goin' man." This caught my attention. And we both feel as if we are some kind of long lost brothers in some way. (We're not, it just seems like that. He's older than me and my long lost brother would be a little closer to my age. Not to mention that he has his own father.) We seem to think on much of the same level about a lot of things- important things. We both agree that God has placed us together to go fourth and carry on his works. I feel very strongly about that. And the situation with meeting him and thinking about having him in the shop and all seems different than did the situation with Dan and Chris. All of it with them was my idea, not theirs. I tried to arrange their lives according to my idea. My plans. It would have been different if they had had the same idea also. But they didn't. They went for it because to a couple of high school kids, it was a better prospect than working at Burger King when they graduated. To this day, I don't think they ever realized in their minds what kind of potential that idea had. But it would have only worked if they were as passionate about it as I was. And they were not, pure and simple. They just kind of said, "cool," like they would have said about any other idea in the world if then presented to them. It was not their dream; it was mine. And for all intesive purposes, they really didn't belong in my dream.

But the situation with Bob is different. He came to me with the idea just as much I had the idea myself to begin with. Instead of us trying to force anything on one another, it seems as though the circumstances have been sort of "arranged" for us. And both of us won't deny that that's nothing short of a miracle. Because the more we learn about each other, the more we realize that we have in common. Take everything that describes me and you'll find that much of it describes him. We had very similar childhoods, apparently. We're both musical and enjoy much of the same music. We play instruments. We like spicy food. Just a whole bunch of little things are the same about the two of us. He's a family man. (Of course, that's not a little thing by any means.) That's pretty important. He's like me where he wants kind of the "Ward Cleaver" life at home. I guess you can say that in most ways, he's a "man after my own heart."

So like I said before, I'm not about to rush into anything. But it feels right. And if it doesn't work out, I'll probably just feel really stupid for writing this entry. But I believe that that won't happen. I think I am going to be friends and probably partners with this guy for a long time. I think he will remain a part of my life from here on out. Because it's not us that are doing the work. It's God. We have both place our lives in God's hands and I am willing to trust Him. When you give everything up to God, you can never be dissapointed. Because anything that God would ever take away, He gives you back in other ways a hundred times. He is not full of false promises like the enemy, nor is he full of empty promises like man. He is the Truth. And even though we are in the very beginning stages of this journey as far as the barbershop is concerned and the pieces are just beginning to assemble themselves, I have never felt more solid and secure. Because I know that God will take me wherever He wants me to go. And wherever He wants me to go, that's where I want to be, to be sure.

By Special Request (Part 2)

2006-08-12T20:04:00.000-07:00

In my last entry, I talked about my interest in things old-fashioned, particularly music. But I didn't quite say much about what it is like being almost 25 years old. Well, I'll tell you.

They say that you're as old as you feel. I don't feel 25. Sometimes I feel like I'm 5 and sometimes I feel like I'm 85. I feel like in many ways, I will always be very youthful. I will always have a curious nature and a childlike sense of wonder. I hope that never goes away. At the same time, I've been told I have an "old soul." I have been told that I have wisdom beyond my years. And sometimes I agree. I've heard it said, "It's not the years in your life that count; it's the life in your years." I feel like that is true. I have had a lot of experience for my age. And as I stated in the previous entry, I have always had the inclination to get much more out of my experiences than I think most people do. My mind has always had the capacity to make some rather abstract connections and as a result, I think I often learn more than what is taught. Many experiences in my life have equaled more than the sum of their parts. I suppose that could be used to define the difference between knowledge and wisdom. And so in many ways I feel quite ageless. And (like I've said before,) I certainly feel like I don't fit in with the vast majority of my peers. And another reason is that other 25-year-olds just seem more like 12-year-olds as far as I'm concerned. Not that I'm better than any of them, (well maybe just a little), it's just that very seldom will a 25 year old kid come into the barbershop who has his stuff together. I consider myself fortunate that I am married, I'm the father of a beautiful and advanced child and one on the way, I'm a small business owner and have made a name for myself professionally, I'm talented in some areas and on top of all that, I'm so darn handsome I can't stand it! I'm proud of myself. But more than that, I'm thankful for what God has given me so far. Without Him, I would have nothing. I don't necessarily feel like I have earned any of the gifts I have recieved. All I have done is pay attention the best I've known how at any given time and gone with the flow some of the time. And I will tell you this: Going with the flow is much easier than trying to forge your own way ahead. I'm still learning this lesson. And, especially lately, I've learned that the less I try to force things in my life and the more I take a back seat and watch things unfold, the better situation I am left with. And more secure. At this time in my life, I feel settled. Yet I feel that I am just starting to grasp the tip of the ice berg in establishing my own sense of identity. I'm really starting to understand that I don't have to pigeon-hole myself or others into any kind of set of pre-concieved notions. I can be (by most people's standards) a very morally conservative person and have tattoos all over. I can work out and not be a muscle-head. I can be an artist without being a bum. I don't have to constantly try to impress people. I can enjoy my time alone and not feel guilty. I love spending time with my family, but I'm not doing them any good unless I get time to unwind. Most of the time I unwind with them, but once in a while, I like to spend some time alone. Sometimes I go to garage sales and spend time with my late great Grandma Dolores.

I've been spending more time lately drawing. I am now learning how to do tattoos so I can add the service to my business. I would conduct all tattooing services in the back room of my shop and I could make some good money doing so and brake up the day as well. It does get tiring standing in one spot all day. Once in a while it gets to feeling like a production line, doing the exact same haircut over and over on the same kids with their cookie cutter personalities. But something is changing as I aproach the ripe old age of 25: I am finding more and more the ability to enjoy the company of some of these kids without identifying with them. I have been finding it easier to learn about them as individuals. The topic of tattooing has helped with this. It seems to be something that I have in common with a lot of these kids. And what's more, it sort of gives me an excuse not to "judge" them by their looks or by certain choices because if some people saw me without a shirt, they would assume some pretty wild things about me. Now, when some hoodlum walks in, instead of thinking, "Oh great! Here's another winner..." I ask them about their tattoos and how long they've had them and what they mean to them and so on. And all that leads to the kind of conversation and interaction that wouldn't have happened otherwise.

Another thing that is changing for me lately is the craft of singing. I have joined a different chorus called Voices In Harmony (VIH) and they are straight on the road to international. Dr. Greg Lyne is the director and he is one of the top directors in the country. And I think he wants to add this chorus onto his list of gold medals. It's pretty exciting. It's challenging as well. I have become a better singer just having been their a month. The only hard part about this change is that I had to give up the other chorus with which I had been singing. That chorus is called the Golden Chordsmen. And the reason why that was hard is because my wife directs that chorus. That Golden Chordsmen has always been a C- chorus. Now that she's directing, I think she'll bring them up to at least a B- or a B. And VIH is an A+ chorus. Although I miss seeing my wife at the rehearsals, I feel like my voice is ready for more of an A+ challenge. I wasn't getting challenged by the B level challenge that my wife is giving these guys. I feel like I'm ready for more than that. But my wife is the best thing for the Golden Chordsmen. She has the skills to bring them up higher than they've ever gone. Some of them are more than willing to put in the hard work while some are not. But even if she has to drag them there, they'll get there, by and by.

As far as her being mad that I left her chorus, she's not at all. She was very encouraging about the whole thing. She knows that I am at a different level than most of the guys in the Golden Chordsmen and she knows she has her challenges ahead of her with that group whether or not I'm there. If she wasn't the director, she'd tell me to go for it and so she does in this situation. The truth is that she is very supportive of everything I decide. When I decided to be a barber, she supported me all the way and helped me through the times when it was rough. She got me up in the morning and kicked me out the door. I can tell she's going to be very supportive to our children. She already is. I love watching her with our daughter. I can't wait until the next one. They are my reason for getting up in the morning. And although I think my wife forgets sometimes, the reason I work extra hours often is because of our family. I have gotten a lot more responsible lately as I come to age 25. I suppose I can thank my daughter for that. But I have to thank my wife, too. And God. With all of their help, I have come to a point where I feel like anything is possible in my life. There's such a freedom that comes with family life. I think most people think it's the oposite. But not me.

At the same time, I have seen some wonderful changes in my wife as well. I love watching her grow into a better and better mom as our little girl has changed in the short time she's been alive. I have learned so much more about my wife now that we are parents than I think I ever knew before. I feel much closer to her. It's wonderful to see this child who was born out of pure love walking around being silly. And just knowing that she is literally MADE out of my wife and myself is unfathomable.

And I also think that this experience has helped my wife understand quite a bit more about me as well.

By Special Request

2006-08-12T00:52:00.000-07:00

It has been requested that I write about my experience being almost 25 years old and about how I got interested in barbershop music and my "unique" style of dress and old-fashioned ways all around I suppose. Well here goes.

I have never been like others. I suppose you'd have to go back before I was born. My grandmother was somewhat creative in her younger days. She painted. I think this rubbed off on her son, my uncle, Uncle John. He was always very creative.

My grandmother's mother, my great grandmother Grandma Dolores grew up long ago. When she was young, Dean Martin was popular. She'd always love to watch old western TV shows and had an all around nostalgic aire about her.

I have always loved Disneyland and what it has always been trying to create/preserve.

My mother was much older than many of her mother's freinds' children. And she was fairly young when I was born. Therefore, I was still a young child when those in our group who were closest to my age were still teenagers. All this comes into play later.

Although my mother was never the creative type, she was always very youthful. She made one very rash decision: the decision to marry my father. My father was very creative. Very musical. These things rubbed off on me. He was a very loving, caring, sensitive man. Except when he drank. When he drank, he drank a lot. And when he drank, he was very abusive. A monster. It's a good thing for me that people don't remember most things that happen as babies because there are many things I wouldn't care to remember. Some things I do, though. For a baby who's father was both a loving, sweet man sometimes and a mean, abusive monster other times, it takes a toll. In order for these two extreme opposite images to coexist as one person in the mind of a baby, tremendous stretches of the imagination are required. The child would have to learn at a very early age to categorize each of these images together in some respects. The results of this are too many to go into here. But one result is that it makes a person very creative. Things that seem outlandish and absurd to others won't seem so far fetched to this child. And it also makes a young child a social misfit for several obvious reasons. And it makes the child question EVERYTHING. (That's the most relevant one for this discussion.) The child will not just be satisfied with whatever cards or dealt. Is that a jack of diamonds, or does it just look like a jack of diamonds? What makes it look like a jack of diamonds? Why isn't the jack of diamonds -say- a four of clubs? He will always be concerned with what is behind everything. What are the strings attached? The child will question people's motives. The child will question people's choices. People's words. Meanings. The child will question art. Music. Sports. Life. This child will filter out many of the things that don't make sense to him but that are just a part of other people's lives, things that other people just grow up accepting without questioning them. This child's mind will categorize those things as "things that don't make sense that other people blindly acccept for no reason other than they must be stupid." Throw an incredibly high IQ on top of that kind of developing superiority complex and you'll get a child who will find reasons why he why he is above everyone else. But more relevantly, he will constantly develop good solid reasons why those around him just don't make any sense. He will see from an early age how his peers are consistantly becoming brainwashed. And about this, he'd be right. And he would wonder why they were being brainwashed and who was doing the brainwashing. And for this reason he would be all the more distrustful of authority. (It would reinforce the distrust he already had for authority because of his father's abuse. Make sense?) And so we can imagine that, from an early age, much to the befuddlement of those in authoritative positions in his life, the child may begin to conduct his life in a very different manor than those around him. This is where our story begins.

I never did fit in. Because I was so angry and because I was just so different from other children, (other people, really) and because I was born during a time when gifted children weren't being recognized like they are today, I was thrown around from school to school- program to program by school administrators and mental health "professionals" who were just as good at passing the buck as they were at spit-shining their buttholes. In other words, instead of getting the education that my situation called for, I ended up taking the short bus to school. (I dare say it was probably because these "professionals" weren't so professional. No one had ever seen anyone like me. And it would have taken an extremely talented and experienced professional [of which there were none, apparently] to have the faintest idea of what ought to have been done in a situation like mine. No, it was just easier and *cheaper* to pass the buck.)

I don't know about now, but in those days, they threw all the "abnormal" kids together in the same room and called it special ed. The kids with learning disabilities, the retarded kids, the handicapped kids, and the SED (Severely Emotionally Disturbed) kids. The learning disability kids would end up thinking that there must be something wrong with them because they were in the same class as the retarded kids. I'm sure that happened to a number of SED kids as well. (It never happened to me because I always felt like all other kids were retards anyway, right?) The SED kids would bully the other kids making everyone's problems worse. And the schoolwork was always aimed at the lowest common denominator which in most cases ended up being the retarded kids. Which meant that a boy like me who acheived college level scores on standardized tests in
second grade ended up getting schoolwork that was meant for kindergarten or first grade. (That's why I can't do math and I can't spell.) So what I'm getting at with all this is that for me, school was just about a complete waste of time for me. Academically and socially. And with my social development so askew, I did everything I could at one point for people to think I was "cool." (Even though I thought that the rest of the "cool" kids were a bunch of twerps.) I was about 8. Rap was becoming popular and even I had some of it on my walkman. (Which was "the latest thing" as well.) But by listening to it (and other stuff that was popular) and putting on this "cool" persona, I felt further and further away from myself.

[At this point, I will be using music as my primary example. But I'm not just talking about music. I am using music to talk about several aspects of life. Aspects that (for the sake of this conversation) can be summed up best using music as their primary representation.]

Then I made friends with someone who was a few years older. Fourteen. And hanging around him showed me how silly I had been acting. He was into heavy metal and he got me into it. I liked it much better than rap and the pop music of the day. I liked the imagery of it better. I had never been exposed to that lifestyle before that time and it made a lot more sense (in to mind of an eight year old) than the rap lifestyle or any of the other "status quo" lifestyles of that time. So I embraced it wholeheartedly. I took up guitar, I started dressing differently than my peers, I grew my hair long. I was an outcast among my peers at the beginning because I was in the minority especially at the beginning. I was much younger than anyone else who embraced that lifestyle. (Think about the Deerings' parties.) This phase lasted (in various forms) up until I was a teenager. It lasted so long because I always had reasons why that stuff was better than the rap stuff. See, kids nowadays are really only exposed to just a few choices. Most kids have no idea that there's a whole world of possibilities. All they see is a school campus full of two or three possibilities. And when I was growing up you were either just like everyone else and identified with the rap lifestyle or you were one of the smarter and more individual ones who identified with the rebelious heavy metal lifestyle. Little did I know when I started that they were really both the same thing.

But then about half way through this phase, something interesting happens. I began noticing similar patterns among the heavy metal crowd as I always had about the rap/pop/status quo crowds. Gradually there began to be a shift in what I thought was cool and what the rest of the scene thought was cool. The scene was changing and I was changing. Certain ideas or certain wardrobe choices or certain attitudes that I thought would fit right in to that lifestyle were not really fitting in like I thought they would. Instead they were in many cases rejected. I had thought that everyone in this group was supposed to be the open minded ones and little by little I found out that they were just like the rest. I began to discover that many of them were trying just as hard to fit in. So when the clothing changed, they changed. When the music changed, they changed with it. I liked the heavy metal music from the late seventies/early eighties, but "alternative" music was beginning to become popular and what I liked fell out of fashion. I couldn't stand the stuff they started listening to and I couldn't understand why people would listen to that when they could listen to some "real rock." (I didn't understand at the time that I was only listening to this heavy metal music for the same reason they were listening to the alternative: none of us knew that there was better stuff out there.) When I asked people why they didn't listen to the "good stuff," the answers all collectively seemed to average out to the idea that it was outdated. Outdated, pure and simple. Which, of course, made no sense to me. As far as I was concerned, good is good, right? No matter when it comes from...

Ah-HA!

And so it is at this point that I began to break away from any kind of pre-established, pre-labled identity. I thought to myself: If what I listen to is way better and no one listens to it because it's a few years older and they never heard of it and haven't been exposed to it, could there be music (or other things) that maybe exsisted in the past that happen to be way better than the things I have been exposed to up to this point and are aware of now? If ever I asked the right question, that was it.

I was talking to a teacher at school about that subject one day and he ended up giving me a ton of old Beatles tapes. I really liked them. They were so much happier than all that gloomy hard rock that I had been listening to. The more I listened to them and the less I listened to that other stuff, the more my attitude gradually improved. Eventually I would come to a point where I would wonder what was better than that. And if groups like Pink Floyd listened to and were influenced by groups like the Beatles who (in my opinion at that point) were so much better, then perhaps whomever the Beatles listened to and were influenced by would be that much better than them. I caught an interview with them on one c-d. When asked who their influences were, they named off a bunch of people's names that I had never heard of at that point. Among the names were Carl Perkins and Jerry Lee Lewis. I found out later that they were talking about rockabilly music. So out to the music stores I went.

And wouldn't you know it, I loved what I heard. I listened to all the rockabilly I could for a short time until I decided to figure out what influenced them. It was mostly country (of that time), big band, gospel and blues. I went crazy over the blues. I kept going further back and further back. The older the blues, the better because each time I went back futher, the purer the music got. I got to a point where I had on c-d the oldest recordings of blues. Same with gospel. So I started listening to music from Africa. I did the same thing with country and western. I got into bluegrass. What influenced that? Old Irish jigs and reels and what not. I got interested in classical music. Yodeling music of the Swiss Alps. I got into old cowboy music. Sons of the Pioneers. Older still, I got into some real recordings of real cowboys from the twenties and earlier. It was the same with big band. I got to know my great grandmother all over again by being interested in some of the things she was interested in. Westerns. Dean Martin. All that stuff. Stuff that would have been popular when she was a small child and before she was born. Got into tin pan alley. Ragtime. I have recordings from the 1890's. I love them. The older the music was, the more it appealed to me and awakened my IMAGINATION. Such different sounds. Such different mindsets. All different from each other. You see, when I listen to music, I'm not just listening to the way it sounds, I'm thinking about the people who created it. It was history. I started to learn everything I could about the way people were at different points in history. I saw old photographs. And I didn't just want to look at them and think they were interesting, I wanted to be like them. To look like them. I felt in some ways like I was already like them a little bit. I understood things about them that other people don't seem to understand. I enjoyed listening to them. All the music took my mind somewhere else. To a time when music wasn't just manufactured as it is today, but it was created. It reflected the experience of the people who created it. These people's everyday lives were so far removed from the way we are nowadays that it's really a magical experience for me to be able to listen to these old recordings and share even the smallest speck of their experience. Like a magic treasure chest, I open it and it's almost like they've kept these moments waiting just for me to find. The vast majority of people on the planet will never hear these recordings in their lives, and so it is like a well guarded secret. And at times it is like a best friend. I feel as though these people understood me more that most people do now. For them to capture so perfectly through their music my emotions, my fears, my ideas, my dreams, my desires, and my faith more than anyone else has done in over a hundred years of available recording technology suggests to me some kind of ghostly spiritual connection. And even though we are separated by that much time, at any point I want to, I can listen to these old recordings and for three minutes of their lives and for three minutes of my life (or however long any given recording is), there is no separation between them and me except for some scratches on an old recording cylider. And I think that's marvelous. And am I going to be influenced by that? You bet! People are always influenced by what they surround themselves with. This is the choice I've made.

I'm at the point now where you would think that I've exhausted all possibilities. I can't listen to older recordings because there are no older recordings. Geographically I'm slowly running out of regions to explore musically. But I am confident that there is more out there everywhere. And if there ever comes a time when I can't find anything more or anything better, with God's help I'll just have to create it myself.

Poor Me

2006-08-10T00:30:00.000-07:00

No one's been reading my dream blog. I want people to give me their interpretations. I don't care if they're wrong. I don't take it that seriously. The more outragous people's explanations are, the better. Especially those that know me!

As far as the entry that has been requested about me being 25 and oddly old-fashioned and all, it's on it's way.

Please Enter The Type of Entry You'd Like To Read

2006-07-25T00:00:00.000-07:00

I've been busy. I will write something soon, I promise. Leave a comment on what you want me to write about. (Only friendly people responding, please.)

The Funny Farm

2006-06-11T23:46:00.000-07:00

My cousin Nicole and I don't get along that well. Not that I don't like her- I do. It's just that we don't get along. We used to get along wonderfully when I was a teenager. I was always getting in trouble and she had always gotten in trouble as a kid. So we had that in common and I felt like there was someone who knew how it felt. But as I grew up, I started to notice that she hadn't. I stopped getting in trouble but she was still getting in trouble. She's somewhere around forty now and she got arrested yet again for drunk driving. This time she hit someone. (But don't worry. According to her, they didn't get "that hurt.")

Anyway she's going to some rehab place called Honor Farm for the next few months. Her mother, my aunt will be living in her house during that time to drive her to and from work. Although she doesn't show it, I think my aunt is really upset and dissapointed. I guess no one else seems to be, though, because no one really expected anyting different from her. But you know what? I kind of did. When I look at her I see a person just like you or me. I still see that person I connected with as a teenager. And I see no reason that she can't get her act together. I think that going to this place may be a real opertunity for her if she decides to take advantage of it. She's in my prayers.

*Update, 4/09*
She seems to be doing really well. She looks healthier and seems happier. I'm glad.

Pirates and Rappers are Exactly the Same

2006-06-01T22:38:00.000-07:00

At work, Chris and I have come up with the following facts that support the hypothesis that rappers are in fact exactly the same as pirates and vice versa. These facts are as follows:

They like to swear.
They like to drink.
They like to steal.
They wear ill-fitting clothing.
They have pierced ears.
They like to get tattoos.
They usually can't read.
Pirates say, "Arrrrrr!!!" and rappers say, "Uhhhhhh!!!"
They wear big hats with feathers in them. (Like a pimp.)
They carry guns or knives.
They have gold teeth.
They like to wear doo-rags.
They don't respect women.
They speak in their own ridiculous made-up languages.
They say "be" a lot. (IE: "Where be the tresure?")
They have limps.
They go around all the time looking for booty.

Can anyone think of anything we may have overlooked?

Did You Ever See a Dream Walking? (Well I Did.)

2006-05-23T08:44:00.000-07:00

I have a new blog in addition to this one. It's called Embracing The Boogyman and it's where you can read about all my dreams. I have been keeping a dream jounal, but since I became a barber, I can't write on paper. (Hurts my wrist and looks sloppy. Ask any barber.) So I figured: if I can type faster than I write, I might as well just put it on another blog. I encourage people to comment and interpret the dreams as much they would care to. That's what it's all about. Those of you that know me know you're in for some strange reading. If the link doesn't work, go to joshryandreams.blogspot.com

My Five Favorite Sodas

2006-05-14T02:01:00.000-07:00

Sorry I haven't written in a while. This isn't that interesting, but here goes...

#5. Sioux City Sarsaparilla- "Sometimes you eat the bhar, and sometimes, well, he eats you."

#4. Boylan's Birch Beer- Like rootbeer only a little stronger, but goes down a lot more smoothly.

#3. Moxie Original Elixir- Not everyone likes this one. Takes a little moxie.

#2. NEHI (Peach)- Order this delight when you get a chance. If you can say it right.

#1. Green River- This one's hard to find, but it's worth it. One sip of this light, refreshing, nosalgic lime flavored beverage and you'll feel like you're back in America again.

Hooo - Are - Yooooo?

2006-04-26T23:12:00.000-07:00

Eye See You
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

I'm just wondering how many people out there read these entries. If you are reading this, would you be so kind as to post a comment? With your name, perhaps? And if I don't know you but you read this regularly, if it's not too much trouble, could you write a little description of why you like to read these? (Or if I do know you, write one anyway.) I really am curious as to what motivates people to keep checking this site. (Other than it being mine and therefore, you know, excellent...) I'd be greatful.

This is Ground Control to Uncle John

2006-04-09T23:15:00.000-07:00

AstroJohn
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

We had big fun in Disneyland. I threw caution to the wind. I wore a cowboy hat. I wore a "T-shirt." We listened to Aerosmith. I said bad words. Everyone in general let loose.

It's funny how it's different spending a day with someone is than spending a few days with someone. We've spent time in Whispering Pines with Uncle John before, but it isn't the same there because he mostly just plays "beergamon" while he's there. No, at Disneyland he was different. He's lots of fun. He's outgoing, funny, loose, all those things. But he's hurt. He's damaged. (As are the rest of us, to be sure.) And it just breaks your heart to see a guy who has so much creativity and inteligence and faith and zest in such a state of hurt. Not that he was complaining in the slightest, mind you, but you can just tell. People wear their scars, often in subtle ways. He seems stifled. Or veiled. And I pray that what has happened to him in the past (his upbringing, his Army days, and especially his divorce) will not continue to eat away at him as I think it has been. It is true that he does need to go through whatever processes he needs to go through to cope with these things, I'm not saying he shouldn't, but I hope that from there he can move into a place that is happy, enveloped by God's grace. God gives us all our challenges. Things will challenge our faith. It is in these times that we show our true colors. And with God's help, we have the power to become who he wants us to be. It takes time. But it doesn't have to take forever to get back on track. The choices we make now affect who we will become in five years. If we are negligent in our faith or waivering, and we don't correct it, we may become like those bitter old men we see hunched over walking down the street knocking over teenagers with their canes and muttering to themselves. No one ever began their life expecting or trying to end up that way, it just sort of happened. When bad things happen- or when we begin to really feel the effects of bad things that happen to us, we need to renew our faith. We need to ask for the Lord's visitation. And we need to keep on going and enjoying our life for what it is. It's a beautiful thing. The sun sets every day and it's just as beautiful one day as it is the next, but how many sunsets can any of us say we actually sat and watched? As humans, we tend to look in the wrong direction and miss those kinds of things. When we bury our heads in the sand out of fear of facing our altered lives, our lives change around us and get better but we never know it. And all we are doing is carriying baggage. And with our heads in the sand we might not even notice Jesus's hand reaching out to us to help us carry our baggage. Our cross. We are not alone. We are not abandoned. We are cared for and looked after. And although we often realize certain people come into our lives for a reason, we tend to overlook the idea that perhaps some people go out of our lives for a reason as well. Sometimes things happen that we don't understand or things are difficult or our lives seem to be in crisis or tragedy and going completely wrong. But believe it or not, when we truly put our lives entirely in God's hands, no matter what happens to us, every day He places us right where we should be.

Work Work Work

2006-03-18T20:24:00.000-08:00

Since I've taken over the barbershop I haven't had time to write. I will soon. Keep checking. Don't get bored with it and give up. You're not a quitter, are you? Nope! Didn't think so.

Bald

2006-02-24T09:35:00.000-08:00

Survivor
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

The other day, a woman came into the barbershop and got her head shaved. She came in with her husband. She was going through kemo and her hair was falling out at a rapid rate and she said that she just wanted to shave it off and get it over with. She sat in the chair and I wrapped her up. On the few occasions that I've had a woman in my chair, I'm always reminded of how women and men are different. With a woman, one must be careful about tucking the paper towel into the back of the shirt. (With men, you don't think about it.) And you kind of have to manuver the paper neck strip around the dangly earrings lest one of the earrings gets snagged.

The procedure for any haircut is: comb through the hair before touching it in any other way. (The main purpose if this is to check for lice. But after a while you just do it automatically.) When I combed through her hair, the comb was taking almost as much hair as it left on the head. I double-checked with her that I was to buzz it completely bald, and she said to go ahead as it was just going to fall out anyway. She said this in a way that was like bitterly saying goodbye to her hair. And her life.

As the first few strokes of hair fell to the floor, she began to weep. (Which I had expected.) I didn't say much. What does one say? I did it as quickly yet as comfortably as I could. After a little bit I said (sounding as sincere and as empathetic as I could,) "It's tough, eh?" She told me that this was the hardest part. I could understand that. It's the most visual thing. Especially for a woman. If I was a woman, it would be rather tough seeing yourself in the huge barbershop mirror changing from a feminine attractive woman into a bald odd looking person. For with men, bald is a style. On a woman, a bald head just looks kind of weird. Women are associated with long hair. Women have bigger eyes and curved eyebrows and dangly earrings. So when you see a bald woman, it reminds you how seldom you see that. And with the way women percieve things, when a woman looks in the mirror at their new bald head, what their minds eye probably sees is some freakish hideous alien monster like thing. They loose much of their womanly identity with their hair. And men are used to having clippers buzzing about their head. Women are not used to that.

When I was just about finished buzzing her head, she was still weeping a little. By then, we were having a little conversation. Not that I could really make her feel better, but it seemed like talking about it a little broke some of the silence. And that seemed necessary. I removed the cape and when I was brushing her off, John (the other barber) said, "Well, look on the bright side: at least you have a great shaped head!" (And here I was trying to avoid saying something like that.) She chuckled, but it was one of those things that happens when a woman is still kind of crying where the chuckle turns into a little sob. I tried not to charge her, but she insisted on paying me.

My heart went out to her. This is a time in a person's life when they don't know if they're going to be alive for very long. And if they aren't, it's a pity they have to spend the rest of their days at hospitals and taking tests and getting kemo and having to shave their head and look at their "hideous" bald reflection in the mirror. If you ask anyone what they would do if they had three months to live, no one would say they wanted to spend the rest of their lives like that.

I felt kind of oddly honored in a way, that I could be part of that process for this woman. I know it's a terrible process to go through, but it seems to have it's own unique beautifulness to it. It's either the first part of their dying, which I think is a beautiful thing. (The idea of passing from this earth into God's direct loving care.) Or it is the process of being a cancer survivor which is ugly and beautiful. It certainly made the people I've known who've survived stronger. And to a survivor, the sun shines a little brighter; the food tastes a little better; the ocean becomes a lot more constant. Most survivors that I've seen would tend to throw back their head and close their eyes and take a big deep breath full of air and life, wonderful life. (If only the rest of us could do that!)

The Haunted Toy

2006-02-05T06:45:00.000-08:00

The Haunted Toy
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

My daughter got this stuffed animal. It is a dog. It's wonderful for HER. She LOVES it. It is her favorite toy. It sings. It talks. Grab it's ear and it says, "Got my ear!" Poke it's nose, it says, "Got my nose!" Or it plays a song. Or makes cartoon type noises. Or dog whining noises. It sings "If you're happy and you know it..." You can't pick it up without having it go off because everywhere you touch it is so sensitive that it immidiately plays a song. After you put it down, it waits a minute and says, "Hug me!"

It is possessed.

But I can't get rid of it because it is her favorite toy. She crys if she drops it. And if she even sees it, she crys until we give it to her. And the worst part is you have to play along. It starts singing and you have to smile and sing with it for the baby's sake.

Normally when it sings, it sounds like a woman who never quite made it to Broadway. First lesson in life: Never try to make "Head, shoulders, knees and toes" sound like it was written by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Second lesson in life: If you must try, do it well. That's it's normal voice...

...but...

...when the moon is low...
...and the silence is still...
...and a ghostly fog hangs in the air...

...this toy has another voice. I've heard it myself. It sounds like a cross between Peter Lorre, Vincent Price, and Charlie MacCarthy. Of course it doesn't use this voice around the baby. It only does it when I'm alone with it. It says terrible things. It says, "Just try to get rid of me!" and, "I'll see you tonight, 'Daddy' in your nightmares!" It threatens to sing those horrible songs over and over and over and over and over..... The toy wants me to go mad. That's it's strategy. I've heard it wickedly plotting to itself. First it will make me go insane. Then my wife. Then it will take over the world. It will reproduce. Millions of these things will inhabit the earth. Beware O beware. It all starts with this one.

Whatever ghost or spirit possesses this stuffed dog...Whatever evil entity dwells within my daughter's favorite toy, if left alone, it will consume my soul. It must be destroyed.

IT MUST BE DESTROYED.

Compatible

2006-02-03T10:24:00.000-08:00

essential oils
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

I'm a few weeks behind. I've been busy.
A few weeks ago, my wife and I went to Carmel for the weekend. It was wonderful. We stayed in a bed and breakfast called the Carriage House Inn. Our room had a TV, VCR + DVD (and you could go down to the office and pick up one of many popular hit movies and bring them up without signing anything,) CD player, jacuzzi, fireplace, canopy bed, etc. How wonderfully romantic!

While we were walking about the town, we passed by this perfume shop where the lady beckoned us come in. We did. She said all the perfume she sold was made directly from essential oils and would we like to take a free test to see what kind of blend would be right for us? Sure...

We answered several not-so-personal questions and she read the results. We ended up sniffing countless pieces of paper. Finally we narrowed it down to one for my wife which fit the bill very closely. It smelled very similar to the perfume I had bought for her for her birthday which was the same one she wore for our wedding. I didn't find anything I liked. Many smelled nice, but just not me. I wear Cuba. It's a little obscure scent that comes in a cheesy brown cigar shaped bottle. It doesn't smell like a cigar though. But I think it's marketed toward the kind of men who smoke cigars. It's a rather unique scent and it fits me really well. I shall be broken hearted if they ever stop making it. (And I'm sure they will just like everything else I've come to love.)

"Would you like to purchase the perfume?" said the lady, holding a bottle the size of a domino. How much?

$250.
Twooo Hunnn-dred and Fifff-ty Big Ones!

Actually the one she wears anyway smells better than the one we looked at. We knew we probably wouldn't buy anything, even if the price wasn't ridiculous. It's fun to look though. Needless to say we didn't purchase that one. But we've still got the memories lingering in the air.

The All Nighter

2006-01-21T23:06:00.000-08:00

The All-Nighter
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

The time: Saturday night.
The place: San Francisco.
The event: The Beering's Party. (See the entry, "The House of Complacentcy" from January of 2005.)

Ok. Here's the whole story.

Saturday morning at 8:00 am I showed up for work. I stood working until about 2:00, when I sat down for about three minutes to eat a snack. Then I stood up again working until 7:30 pm. My friend Patrick picked me up and brought me home. We all went to the party. We arrived at about 8:30 or 9:00. We left the party and got home at about 1:30 am. I read for about half an hour. I was reading "The Immitation of Christ" by Thomas Kempis. I won't get into what I read here, but this little section was so beautiful and so relevant to me and my life at this time that I was overcome with a sense of peace and tranquility, yet I felt awe-inspired and energetic. I didn't want to go to sleep and just forget what I read, nor did I want to read on just yet. I wanted the ideas I read about in THAT chapter to stick inside my head for a while so I could think on them for a time. So I started painting. (I didn't paint anything beautiful or anything; I just painted something I had in my head for a week or so. I'll show you pictures later.) I finished my painting at about 8:00 am. I then thought briefly about going to sleep, but I knew that if I went to sleep in the morning like that, I would damage my sleeping pattern. So I woke up my wife and Patrick who had stayed with us after the party and we went to breakfast. We then parted ways with Patrick and went to Church. We met up with Rosanna and Michele at Church. We went to lunch then parted ways with Michele. We went to Rosanna's for a bit and watched a movie at about 5:00 pm where I slept for about an hour and a half. My wife and I then dropped the baby off with my grandmother and we saw "The Chronicles of Narnia." We picked the baby up and went home. We got to sleep at 10:00 or 10:30 or so. So I was up about forty hours or so and I felt great. (That's not that long for some, but it was long for me.) I would have stayed up that night also, but I didn't want to get my only sleep in three days right before I went into work on Tuesday. I wanted to make sure I had two nights in a row of sleep. But I'll tell you, the whole time I was up, I felt terrific! At a few points in the day, I actually considered trying to go without sleep all the time! But I have decided to pull these all nighters just now and again when the mood strikes me. It's weird. You'd think I'd be tired, but I really felt alert, at peace, and at one with God. I noticed all the colors around me. I noticed the trees. I noticed the sky. I noticed people. Everything was beautiful. I felt like I was seeing things as they were and not through a filter of my own feeble experience. And I'll tell you all the music I heard that day sounded clear and enjoyable. Everything was fresh and new. When I woke up the morning after I was a little tired but not very. And the feeling I had the day before was fresh in my mind. I didn't feel it to the extent that I had, but it didn't completely go away, either. It has remained in one form or another to this day.

I'm a Business Owner

2006-01-05T23:21:00.000-08:00

Barbershop
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

We just signed the papers to buy the barbershop. It's official. I'm the boss. I will be making improvements as I can afford to do so. The barber who was my boss is cutting down on his hours and I will be working more. The other barber will be going in for surgery and will be out for a little while probably next month so during that time I will be working my keester off. But then it will get easier when the new guy starts working full time. As it is, I'm getting a raise anyway, so that's a good thing. I believe we will be successful. I'm excited and a little nervous.

Recreating the King

2005-12-26T15:41:00.000-08:00

King Kong
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

I have no particullar intrest in the story of King Kong nor do I remember the original that well. But we saw the remake of King Kong by Peter Jackson and let me tell you!- this guy sure knows how to bring you into another world.

I love film. I've studied it in school. I've seen countless films. I enjoy going out to the picture shows on a regular basis. But very rarely does a film come out that really blows me away. King Kong really blew me away. For the first time in a long time I really felt like I was "at the movies!"

At the beginning of the picture, Jackson draws us into the setting. He establishes the physical, social, economical, and very visual environment of depression era New York with amazing attention to detail. He creates such a complete world that it just draws you right into the story.

When you see it, you have to follow the story as is. You don't see the monkey until about half way through the film. But when you do, watch out! I've always been one of the most critical veiwers of special effects films. Jurassic Park? PHONEY! Hulk? what a JOKE! This is the only film about which I can say that they finally made computer animation look real.

The use of color is astounding. This was truly a visually stunning picture. Every shot was very well thought out. Why, towards the end, my fear of heights even set in. I really FELT like I was on top of the Empire State Building!

Anyway, I wouldn't say it was the best film I've ever seen, but it was certainly the best movie-going experience I've ever had!

We'll see you...

AT THE MOVIES!

How The Liberals Stole Christmas

2005-12-17T16:45:00.000-08:00

Liberals
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

The liberal campain against family and decency has reached a new level. Now they are combating Christmas! The Devil's trying to win on many levels. Here are a few.

#1. Regular people are afraid to say, "Merry Christmas." People feel presured to say, "Happy Holidays" or something for fear of "offending" someone. So on one hand, the Devil is trying to diminish the entire Christmas celebration.

#2. Some of us that are still saying, "Merry Christmas" have begun to say it with kind of an attitude. Like when we said "under God" durring the Pledge of Allegience, we all said it with some kind of attitude as if to say "in your face!" It's like we're saying "Merry Christmas" like we're striking back at the liberals and saying it just to spite them. That's not what Christmas is about.

#3. It's making decent people hate liberals even more. The Devil gets to us that way. It makes those of us that still have the spine to say, "Merry Christmas" into angry bitter people.

#4. It's making people doubt the good of this world when you can't even wish someone a "Merry Christmas."

...And much more...

The way to fight back is not with anger or resentment. The way to respond is with love. Say "Merry Christmas" but not in anger or with the spirit of spite or revenge. Say it with sincerity. Say it with compassion. Even if some people don't like it, say it anyway. But mean it. Pray for them. Love them. That way, we will all have a Merrier Christmas.

Well, It's One Solution

2005-12-10T21:57:00.000-08:00

The other day, we saw a very typical teenager with his trousers down past his keester. I glanced down at the bottom of his trousers and a complete scenario came into my mind. I laughed hysterically. I just kept thinking, "How does one get to the point where that makes sense?" This is his story.

Boy has problem. When boy walks, the bottoms of his trousers drag on the ground and trip boy up. Boy fixes problem. Boy pulls up trousers? (You would think, wouldn't you?) No. Boy secures loose ends at the bottom with rubber bands making it look like his trousers have some sort of "pony tail." Nearby Man with strange mustache concludes that said Boy must be Italian.

The End

u

Everything I Know In Life I Learned From Ferris Bueller

2005-12-08T22:16:00.000-08:00

Rooney
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

I love the film "Ferris Bueller's Day Off." I grew up watching it. I can recite just about every line in the picture. I loved Ferris and Cameron and hated Ed Rooney like the rest of the kids in my generation (and the one just before, I suppose.) But there's been a change in me. We watched Ferris Bueller the other day and I came upon a startling realization:

I AGREE WITH MR. ROONEY!

(Screams heard in background)

I know it seems ridiculous, but it's true. Let me tell you why. First, what is the film about? A kid ditching school. How does he go about it? He lies to his parents, he lies to his school, he lies to his fellow students, he takes his buddy's pop's collectable car out without asking, he lies and sneaks and bullies his way into having lunch at an expensive restuaunt and to top it all off, he goes on a parade float and sings that gawd-awful Wayne Newton song. Now tell me: Is this the kind of role model that teenagers should think is cool? I think not. In real life, a man's success is founded on his integrity and character. Not on how well he can weasel his way around the things that make him uncomfortable. A man like that is selfish and weak. I know it's hard to think of good old Ferris as selfish and weak, but all the charisma and charm and electric personality in the world doesn't make up for a heart commited to nothing more than selfish amusement and gratification.

Now let's talk about Mr. Rooney. A burnt out, frustrated "dog-catcher" type with his air-headed busy-body secretary. He hates Ferris. He's not interested in helping Ferris. He just wants to see him fail so that Ferris will see someday that he should have listened to him. But beneath the vindictive, cunning, villainous man we see in the film, I think there stands a man somewhere deep down who started out wanting to help. A man with good intentions. A young enthusiastic man (much like Ferris) who started teaching ,perhaps, because he had great ideas. But as time went on, I can see a man disillusioned by the lack of respect and courtesy and acknowledgement of his students until he becomes bitter with them. He began to hate his students because they rejected the gift that he brought to them. The gift of knowledge and enlightenment. The realization that there's much more in the world than just high school nonsense. And so I can see a man beginning to say, "OK let them be ignorant!" And eventually taking pleasure in witnessing someone's ignorance getting them into trouble. He takes great joy in the failure of others when it is the result of them refusing the wisdom he has attempted to bestow upon them. And he feels superior because he feels like he's the only one who possesses this wisdom. And he feels that his success is a direct result of that. So eventually he guards this knowledge. He keeps it to himself. Partly because he's given up and partly because he's forgotten what he set out to do in the first place. And we see him now a mean nasty principal chasing Ferris around town looking and acting like a fool. If only they knew how alike they really were!

So I don't agree with Mr. Rooney in his methods or even current motives, but I do see that Ferris is made to be the hero when he does nothing but lie and cheat. When this film came out, it was rebelling against the status quo of the time. I think that is valid. But now these things have become the new status quo. And so many of us have just walked on by without noticing the negative impact they've had on our society. Most of us don't really feel like we have enough time to notice- we're so busy worrying about ourselves. Yes, life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it!

Instinct

2005-12-03T00:09:00.000-08:00

Instinct
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

Whenever an emergency vehicle goes by our house with a loud siren, our dog Buckaroo howls. I think he thinks the siren is another dog. So he's just howling back. He's so cute! As far as the other dog, Boogie, goes...he's been trying to play with the dog across the fence. He cannot get to the dog across the fence, however, until he succeeds in digging, clawing, and chewing his way through the many layers of attempted repair by yours truly. Our fence sort of looks like my grandparents' apartment tends to look at times: in a constant state of transition somewhere in between construction and deconstruction.

A Few Pesonal Reflections

2005-12-01T23:29:00.000-08:00

Fatherhood
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

I'm so happy being a father. This experience has transformed us individually and as a couple. In the short time she has been alive, our daughter has brought people around us together. There was some family that we didn't really get along with before, but now we are starting to.

We've grown closer- my wife and I. We understand each other a lot more now. We see each other interacting with the baby and we learn. I've also grown a lot personally myself since we've had her. I have really begun to learn the definition of the word "provider"- that's for sure. In one month, I buy the barbershop and I alone am responsible for the success or failure of it. And much of our daughter's needs depend on that. So if there's a time to shake hands with hard work, it's this time.

I've also learned about myself by noticing things about the way I interact with my daughter. They aren't really things I can describe; they are more subtle. And they kind of make sense to me but probably not to others. But the important thing is that there is a change. I have always been rather youthful and I think I have become more so now. I don't think being youthful is the same as immature. I believe I've become a lot more mature. I'm definately more patient than I used to be. I see this in the barbershop. I tend to overlook people's faults more than before (which can be hard at times. Especially for me.) I am learning a lot more about time management. I still have a lot of growing to do as do we all. But I definitely feel like during this time I have gone from still being kind of a kid to becoming a man. For the first time, I really feel like I can say without hesitation, "I am a man." Granted, I'm a very eccentric man, but a man. I have always had a very inquisitive mind and I think that when I ask people a lot of questions or bring up some topics, people think of me as being like a child. But I don't think that part of me will change anytime soon. I hope my daughter turns out to be like that. I like to know often how people are thinking about things. And I like to ask a lot of advice even though I don't really need it all the time. I ask partly because people may have a better idea than me and if it's good advice, I'll take it. But I ask a lot of questions mainly to learn about other people. I've noticed that I do this more since I've been a father. And I think it's marvelous. She has given me a brand new sense of wonder that I never had before. But she's given me much more than that. She's given me an incentive for becoming a better person. Instead of asking myself, "Is this how I want to act," I ask myself, "Is this how a father should act?". When I'm with her I feel so young and old. It's my responsibility to hand down the wisdom of the ages. I guess that means I'd better learn what it is! I want to teach her all about God's plan and I have to understand it before I can teach it. Not just intelectually, but spiritually understand. And I feel like becoming a father has done much to inspire me to learn more and live better. I don't want to be a foolish aloof father. I want to be a dependable, loving, wise father. And I definately feel like that's who I'm becoming. A father and not just a guy with a kid. I don't know how noticable these changes in me have been to others, but, like all real change, these things start on the inside and work their way out.

A Borderline Obsession

2005-11-14T21:49:00.000-08:00

Lately I have been watching a lot of horror movies in order to have more nightmares. It sounds weird, I know. (To refresh your memory about my nightmares, see the entry, "Embracing the Boogie-Man" from February of '05.) Just about every night I have some hellish bloody dreams. (Except for the occasional humorous one about Uncle John deciding to grow the same mustache as me or the usual sexy type dreams about friends and family.) But those kind are more few and far between. I'm not complaining. I think it's great. It's like watching a movie. In the last few weeks I've even gotten really scared a few times. One dream was so scary I had to kind of force myself to not wake up so I could see what happens next. Most of them involve zombies or guns or chainsaws or posession, etc. I had a neat one where I lived in this mansion and one of the servants went crazy and threw some kind of gardening tool at me and it impailed me. Then someone came with a chainsaw came and cut around the perimeter of his neck. (They didn't cut his head off, they just completly detached his skin.) And for some reason by doing that, it made the guy stop acting crazy.

That's just one of many...
I think I find some sort of comfort in these dreams. They have always been with me and whenever I go for a time without having them, I feel like something's missing. I keep wanting to have more and more of them. So I keep watching more and more scary movies (most of which are pretty lousy. A few good ones here and there.) The problem is that when I watch so many of them it's probably not that healthy mentally. Oh well. I'm not going to turn into a serial killer or anything like that. BUT not a day goes by that I don't astound myself when I notice how weird of a guy I've become. Is that good or bad?

£

Waiting

2005-11-14T21:46:00.000-08:00

Waiting
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

Sorry it's been taking so long to write. Well here I am. Sorry to keep you "WAITING!" (Really this entry is just an excuse to slip in this picture I made.) Perhaps someone will think it's funny besides me.

I'm Busy Heee-uh!

2005-11-08T23:00:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry. I'll write more soon. I promise. I've just been so busy. If you're hard up for something to read, try looking through my archives. Or perhaps you could read a novel. Or get out of the house and get some excercise for a change. Learn golf. Or fencing. Or you COULD use that time to help the poor. Work in a soup kitchen. Or create your very own Public Access TV show. Or run for mayor. Or heck!- Even president! Goodness knows we could always use a better one. Or you could take lessons to become an astronaut. Then you could travel to a distant galaxy and establish communication with other inteligent life and learn the secrets of creating world peace!

(Or you could just find some other website to look at. Preferably a clean one.)

Who is Santa Claus? (Part 9)

2005-10-13T23:09:00.000-07:00

CommercialSantaClaus
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

Anyone who has gone to the mall in recent years has to agree: Santa has almost become entirely an advertising tool. It's all about commercialism rather than the real true meaning of Christmas. We see less and less Nativity scenes and more and more less convincing Santas. With everyone out to make a buck, I think that the Santa we all know and love and remember from our childhood is slowly fading away among the popular culture along with the true Christmas spirit he reminds us of. And this version of Santa is being replaced by a commercialized, coorprate version of Santa. Whatever happens, I don't think he'll ever disappear entirely, but rather always will (as he always has) evolve or de-evolve in order to reflect the collective and popular values, morals, superstitions, trends, and over all consiousness of the times.

Who is Santa Claus? (Part 8)

2005-10-13T22:55:00.000-07:00

ThomasNast1870sclaus
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

Thomas Nast was credited with illustrating the first images of Santa Claus as we know him today. The funny thing was that when asked to create a visual persona, he had no idea what Saint Nick was supposed to look like. He had, however, heard some accounts of what the "Dark Helper" or "Black Pete" looked like. A happier fatter version of this mysterious figure is what the world saw and embraced as the new face of the one and only Santa Claus.

Also it is important to note the famous poem commonly known as "The Night Before Christmas" in which Saint Nick is described as driving "a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer." It describes him a "chubby and plump- a right jolly old elf" and that he gives the narrator of the story the feeling that he "had nothing to dread." Historians and folklorists tend to agree that it was this poem that solidified many of the now permanant traits of Santa also including his long white beard, his pipe, his round belly, etc.

Prior to these things, the image of Santa had yet to be crystalized. From then, this Santa Claus pretty much evolved into the Santa we all know and grew up with.

Scroll up. (Last one, I promise!)

2005-10-13T22:43:00.000-07:00

OldPhotoSantaClaus
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

Who is Santa Claus? (Part 7)

2005-10-13T22:42:00.000-07:00

SatanSantaClaus
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

There are those who believe that Santa Claus is just Satan in disquise. They say that Satan is using the Santa Claus image to infiltrate the hearts of children and adults alike, causing confusion and false loyalty. Who wouldn't want to be loyal to Santa? An online essay describes all this. It presents a pretty nifty case, but at times it seems to get a little silly in a grasping at thin air kind of way. Nevertheless, for those interested, it's worth checking out.

http://www.av1611.org/othpubls/santa.html

To be continued...

Who is Santa Claus? (Part 6)

2005-10-13T22:33:00.000-07:00

sinisterSantaClaus
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

We then begin to see how Santa and that image of "the Devil" have meshed to create part of how we see Santa today. It wasn't so much that the "Dark Helper" disappeared as much as they have sort of joined together creating one image. The Sinterklaus name is based on the idea that people believed that this helper got singed as he decended into the fireplace. Before that, Santa himself was known by several names. And as time went by and the stories changed, Saint Nicholas or Father Christmas eventually was called Sinterklaus (then Santa Claus.) And it became this Santa Claus who eventually was the one who came down the chimney alone. Continued above...

Who is Santa Claus? (Part 5)

2005-10-13T10:34:00.000-07:00

krampuscard
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

Then there's the "Dark Helper."

It's a little known fact that for most of the legendary "Santa Claus's" career, he was believed to have a helper who went with him on his journeys. This piece of the legend seems to have disappeared over time, especially in this country. This "Dark Helper" has many names including: Old Nick, Old Scratch, Black Peter, Dark One, etc.

According to some accounts, this figure bears a stricking resemblance to our image of the Devil. And according to almost all other accounts, it is the Devil himself. Now bear in mind that in certain Germanic folklore, the Devil and Satan are not the same. In some legends, the Devil seems to stem much from the same kind of "stuff" as the "wild man." Almost more of a trixter type "beast man" living in the woods. However in some cases, the Devil and Satan are the same.

As far as his connection to Santa Claus, it was believed that this strange helper accompanied Santa Claus on his journey and that he was the one who actually did the work of climming down the chimney. According to some legends, he would give good children the gifts, but he would kidnap the bad children and drag them off to Hell/ torture them/ eat them/ etc.

Who is Santa Claus? (Part 4)

2005-10-13T10:16:00.000-07:00

ScarySANTACLAUS
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

By far the most interesting information (I think) about Santa comes from older Germanic and Nordic folklore. It seems that in some areas, the today's image of Santa stemmed from the image of the "Wild Man," a mythological mountain-dwelling people who seem to stem from such legends as the Yeti or the Abominable Snowman. Much like our own legends of bigfoot. Some kind of missing link in the evolutionary chain. Kind of a half man/half beast. Like the Jersey Devil.(If you've never heard of the Jersey Devil, go to:

http://www.elktownship.com/myth.html

...and you'll have the right idea.)

The image of the "wild man" is much like that of a very shaggy man. They were said to live in the mountains and have long shaggy beards. Their bodies were extremely hairy. In later accounts, the mass of hair on their bodies were replaced by the wearing of animal skins. (Much like the fur lined santa suit.) These beings were almost like trolls. They were said to be mischievious and frightening to children. They supposedly enjoyed torturing children who were bad and eating them. During Christmas time, children were warned not to leave their houses or enter into the woods for fear that they might encounter a "wild man." Over time, that image became less and less animalistic and more humanized until the image of the "wild man" became one in the same with the image of Santa Claus at that time in that area. To find out more, go to:

http://grapevine.net/~kic/

I think that this image most influenced our visual perception of Santa Claus as it mixed with other folklore over the years adding it's two cents onto the transitional figure of Santa Claus at that time.
Scroll up for more.

Who is Santa Claus? (Part 3)

2005-10-13T09:48:00.000-07:00

GoodySantaClaus
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

Actually, the image of Santa Claus (or Sinterklaus among a plethora of other names) as we know him today is based largely upon Nortic and Germanic folklore. For the most part, about half of Santa's characteristics are based on the traits of Thor, the Norse God of Thunder. Thor is said to have a long white beard, wear red (representing the color of fire.) He is said to be a kindly elderly figure. He is said to drive a chariot lead by two goats. And it is said that his entryway into this world is through the fireplace. Fire is sacred to him. There's more but I don't want this to get too boring. Read on. (Scroll up.)

Who is Santa Claus? (Part 2)

2005-10-13T09:32:00.000-07:00

SaintNicholasSantaClaus
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

Many of us have heard that Santa Claus as we know him today originated from Saint Nicholas, the third century Turkish Bishop. He was known to be a very kind giving man. Not much is known of him as a historical figure. His connection to Santa Claus seems almost entirely based on legend and folklore rather than actual fact. According to information found at http://www.stnicholascenter.org/Brix?pageID=38,

"One story tells of a poor man with three daughters. In those days a young woman's father had to offer prospective husbands something of value—a dowry. The larger the dowry, the better the chance that a young woman would find a good husband. Without a dowry, a woman was unlikely to marry. This poor man's daughters, without dowries, were therefore destined to be sold into slavery. Mysteriously, on three different occasions, a bag of gold appeared in their home-providing the needed dowries. The bags of gold, tossed through an open window, are said to have landed in stockings or shoes left before the fire to dry. This led to the custom of children hanging stockings or putting out shoes, eagerly awaiting gifts from Saint Nicholas. Sometimes the story is told with gold balls instead of bags of gold. That is why three gold balls, sometimes represented as oranges, are one of the symbols for St. Nicholas. And so St. Nicholas is a gift-giver."

To learn more to to the website above.

But why isn't Santa then dressed in saintly clothes? Why does he live at the North Pole rather than heaven? What's with the fireplace thing? If it was that simple, our image of Santa would be very close to our image of a Saint, rather than a "jolly old elf." Read on to Part three.

Who is Santa Claus? (Part 1)

2005-10-13T09:14:00.000-07:00

CokeSantaClaus
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

I have some more information about the origins of Santa Claus that I found interesting. Some of you will remember reading an entry last year in these pages about Santa "Klaus" but that was only the beginning. It's amazing how much we don't know about just about everything!

We all know who Santa is. The old fat man with the long white beard dressed in a red suit with white fur trim. Big black boots and big leather belt. And a hat with that weird little doo-dad at the end of it. He carries a big sack with presents for all of us. He rides a magic sleigh carried by reindeer and enters our homes through the chimney (even if we live in an apartment.)

He says, "Ho ho ho!" We leave out milk and cookies for him. He leaves gifts under the tree. No one is supposed to see him. He covers the whole world in one night. Christmas Eve. He lives at the North Pole with Mrs. Claus and all the elves who help him make the toys.

He is jolly and kind and loves children. He writes a long list of all the children's names, good and bad. (And somehow it always seems to fit onto one scroll.) He checks it twice. He goes to the mall to ask us what we want. (Although, when we get a little older, we find out that it's just his helper and not the REAL Santa at the mall.)

His image is so familiar that I'd venture to guess more kids in this country know who he is than who Jesus Christ! (It's only a guess. I was too lazy to search the statistics.)

What else do we know? Scroll up to Part 2 of this entry.

Doggees and Gorillees

2005-10-06T21:05:00.000-07:00

Gorilla Suit
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

#1: The baby said her first word.

Doggie.

Well, it sounded more like "ah-gee, ah-gee." But whenever the dogs come into the room now, she says it. She loves them.

#2: So we were out at the halloween store and as we were walking past all the manequins in the front, we noticed that one wasn't really a manequin, it was a real person in a gorilla suit. He was kind of ferocious looking and had big monsterous fangs. When people walked by, he'd pretend to be a statue then pop out and startle people. When he saw us, though, he didn't want to scare the baby so he just waved. When the baby saw him, she said, "ah-gee, ah-gee!!!"

Busy Busy Busy

2005-10-06T10:51:00.000-07:00

I'll write more in a few days...

My First Painting

2005-09-23T09:24:00.000-07:00

"Troubles Are Brewing" "Troubles Are Brewing" "Troubles Are Brewing"
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

So Far, But Yet So Close

2005-09-21T22:54:00.000-07:00

I just got out of a car and a conversation. I was with my two good friends and one was driving. Some time before he dropped me off at my house, I was asked a question of a spiritual nature. (It doesn't really matter what it was about for the rest of you. The following will apply to any number of topics.) I did my best to answer the question in the language of the Church the way I read it and I was trying not to mess it up. But part way through my attempted explanation, my friend at the wheel decided to get angry about the subject. He made up his mind what he was not going to think about it and refused to hear the rest of my explanation. He made up his mind without any information. His only ammo was ignorance. Now I'm certainly not saying that this person is an ignorant person, I'm only saying that ignorance was his only argument in this particular instance BECAUSE without ignorance, his argument would have disapeared. That is to say, if he KNEW the information that I was trying akwardly to convey, he would not have that opinion. He only has that opinion because he doesn't know. But that's OK. And that is a very, very common error. Because what he was saying seems to make a lot of sense, any intelligent person could hold his view. Lord knows I sure did at one point. And for a long time I was the same way. I was very stubborn. My argument when I was younger was the EXACT SAME ARGUMENT. (It's kind of funny hearing it now that I hold a different point of view. It proves that the friend I'm talking about has a brain and isn't willing to just go and buy into some make-believe non-sense just because it's written in some book.) Very much like me. Good for him. I sure wouldn't believe even now anything like what I think he thinks the Bible is. That is [I think] he thinks of the Bible is just a bunch of stories/fables thrown together into some book and written by men. From the imaginings of men. But if he learned, he would KNOW that it isn't that. Because it makes sense after you've learned about it. If you've learned it, it makes more sense than the opposite view. It's real easy to say what you want to say and then force the conversation to end. Many people I've known do it all the time and don't know how to have a discussion without doing that. But it takes a little patience and a little courage to listen to something in it's entirety that someone is saying that you think is wrong and be willing to acknowledge that there COULD be something presented that COULD change your mind. It's cowardly to run away from it. It only serves to prove that you are not solid enough in your argument to hear another side. Saying, "I'm right because of this or that and shut up," isn't the way a mature, reasonable person has a debate. (That's why I was rather suprised at my friend's reaction. I know him to be both mature and reasonable in many ways.) And it's fine to hold the same view after the discussion as before it, BUT... you (...and this is important...) -You will never EVER know WHY you're right until you know WHY you are NOT WRONG. In other words: If I say the sky is pink and you say the sky is blue, you might be right BUT in order to say that the sky is NOT pink, you have to know what pink looks like. If you had never seen the color pink and didn't know what it looked like, you couldn't very well say that the sky is not pink. Just like if you heard someone saying that some girl was ugly and you never saw the girl but when someone starts talking about how pretty she is you argue with them and state definitively that she was ugly. It's fine if you think she's ugly, but look at her first. At least make sure you're NOT wrong. If you open your mouth before you've opened your ears it makes you sound stupid and childish. (Note: I'm not saying that part directly about my friend; it's meant as a generalization.) (Actually it IS a little bit meant for him, but not in an mean offensive way. I hope that if he reads this, he will understand what I mean by that and not take offense.)

Anyway, if I'd been allowed to finish what I was talking about in the car (which actually might have taken a lot longer than a reasonable ammount of time [in fact it probably would take years],) I would have demonstrated through real examples why I know FOR CERTAIN that I am NOT wrong. I already have spent a great portion of my life holding the EXACT same view as my friend. But that was until I learned what I know now. In learning these things four things became clear: One- Not only was I wrong before, but -Two- that point of view was far from being complete, that is to say, full of holes or flaws which, upon further investigation in the matter reveal that -Three- another set of truths are at work here that -Four- is complete and has no flaws. (By no flaws I mean that if you find what you'd think was a flaw or a gap or a contradiction, other certain information exists to explain it's meanings and ultimately proves itself legitimate.) After learning certain things, I would be lying to myself if I were to pretend that things were the way I thought they were before. And to think- if I hadn't taken the time to learn why certain people were saying things that completely didn't seem to make sense to me, I would have gone on forever never knowing the great and unarguably true things that I know. My life up to that point would certainly have been easier if I had been born knowing these things. It would have saved me a lot of trouble in my younger days if God had just forced my to see these things sooner. But God had more respect for me than that. He gave us free will which means he gave us a choice to know these things or to not know these things. Everything we need to know is out there and available to us any time we care to look for it. But He doesn't make us learn it. He calls us to learn it. By using the things that happen to us in our lives as His voice, He contacts us. We then have a choice to respond or to ignore Him. And the part of the reason He gives us that choice is because if He didn't, He would be taking away the dignity from us which was neccesary in order for us to have been created in His image and likeness. He has such respect for our mental and spiritual capabilities that he is willing to give us that choice. What an amazing and magnificent gift! The gift of us being able to say that not only He chose us, but that we chose Him! For in order to really truly and purely choose His way, we must overcome obsticles. And part of our dignity as human beings comes from having been born with the capacity to overcome those obsticles. When He created us, He did so choosing and knowing full well what we are each capable of. And what a marvelous gift it is that He trusts us so much that he knows full well that each of us has what we need in order to live our lives to the fullest and overcome absolutely everything standing between us and the gates of Heaven.

Anyway, back to my original story...
For that reason I'm not mad at my friend for acting the way he did. I did almost get a little frazzled but that's just me being human which is OK now and then. On the inside I'm glad. Because I wouldn't want my friend to accept what I'm saying just because I said it was so. That would make him a fool. That's just as bad as what I was saying earlier about the sky being pink and all that. No, it's kind of good that he reacted that way. (Except for the being unreasonable part. But that's just him being human which I completely understand.) For, if nothing else, by his strong conviction and refusal to accept what I was saying he did kind of prove to me that if he comes to understand these things, he will understand them fully and completely. I can tell that anything less than a full and complete understanding would not suffice for him. He would never settle for an "I guess so." If he begins to really learn about these things by his own choosing, I believe that he will see it through to the end. And on that journey, he will grow closer and closer to his Creator through ever strengthening faith and wisdom and happiness.

There's No Place Like Home

2005-09-09T10:30:00.000-07:00

dorothy and freinds
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

I ran into an old aquaintance the other day. Gina. The one everyone thought was the rotten kid. The liar. The theif. The troublemaker. She had been adopted into foster care by a family that's freinds with my grandparents and we went to the same babysitter during summers and after school. Our babysitter was Priscilla, a wonderful lady.

Anyway, Gina has nothing to do with her foster parents ever since their custody of her terminated when she was sixteen. She is married now and has children. She's twenty-seven now and she seems like she's doing a lot better than anyone thought she would do. She's developed a relationship with her real mother. Since I saw her last, when I was about ten or eleven, she seems like she's gone though quite a bit of change. When she was a girl, she stole and lied. She had a child at a very young age. She seemed to be headed by most accounts into a life of crime or drugs. We spoke briefly. She didn't recognize me at first, but she finally figured it out. She told me about a few of the things that she had gotten caught up in and I told her I thought it was amazing that she came out of it so well. Many people don't recover and they become failures.

She had one of her children with her when I saw her. Eight. Very polite. Hyper. Very bright. It showed me that she must be a decent mother to have a child like that. You can tell a lot about a parent by their children and vice-versa. I told her she should visit Priscilla the babysitter. I told her that I go to see her from time to time still and that I thought she would really enjoy a visit from Gina. I told her that I thought Priscilla would be relieved to see her doing well since everyone thought she wouldn't. We exchanged telephone numbers and parted.

The next day I came home late and checked the messages. There was one from Gina telling me that she was to visit Priscilla and asking if I would like to come along. Unfortunately I got home too late and received the message after it was outdated. But in one of the days that followed, I called Priscilla on the telephone. She had indeed received that visit and quite enjoyed it. I was happy I initiated it. I think it brough Gina some peace to spend some time with the woman who was always a constant and clearly cared about her no matter what happened.

It was clear that Gina had been blamed for a lot of things she didn't do when she was a kid. She was always the scapegoat. As a result, she acted out. It was a downward spiral. It seemed to me with what Gina was saying that she had hit bottom and some point and had begun to rebuild her life. And at this point she seems to be doing quite well. I told her I had had some problems too. I understand what it's like. It's a dark and scary world out there when it seems like no one cares for you. Very lonely and very hopeless. There is no "home." It is a form of exile. For many people, home is not the place they start out, but the place they end up. My concept of home was quite distorted for some time when I was a kid. But then I realized that home was a place I hadn't been to yet. Perhaps the same is true for Gina. And I think that visiting Priscilla ought to have illistrated that a little bit for her. Of course our real home is Heaven. But here on Earth, I believe that "home" is when we have found our own unique path to Heaven. Some people start out on that path and go astray. Perhaps they find their way back and perhaps not. But there are some of us out there who never even started out on the right road. For them, the world is a truly frightening place full of dangers and treacherous people. But imagine the peace and joy we feel when we realize that we too have a place in the world and an important place at that. And I for one wouldn't give that up for anything.

"As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil..."

What Happens at Harmony College West Stays at Harmony College West

2005-08-30T02:42:00.000-07:00

Then and Now
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

Actually that's not true. Hopefully we take it with us.

Here's what it is: Every year there's a week long educational retreat for barbershop singers out in the midwest where they learn new things about singing and quartets get coaching, etc. It's called Harmony College. For those of us who can't make it to that, there's a weekend long version of it over across the bay in Hayward called Harmony College West. Our quartet went and what an amazing experience it was! Each of us became better singers and our quartet became a Quartet.

The Haircuts and Harmony Quartet: Lead- Chris, Bass- Dan, Tenor- John, and of course the Baritone- yours truly.

The coaching we recieved was unbelievable. Chris learned to use his magnificent voice. Dan learned to use his tremendous personality. John learned that all of his years of experience mean nothing unless he's paying attention and using it. He's had almost thirty years. I've had four. Chris and Dan have had one year. (Singing barbershop, that is.) Dan and Chris improved the most.

We had five coaching sessions in all each with a different person. They all wore fat medals that they had won at International and such. Our sound improved the most when Gregg Bernhard, the baritone from a very modern sounding quartet called Hi-Fidelity, coached us. But the one who inspired us the most was Jack Lyon, the baritone from The Most Happy Fellows (pictured), the 1977 International Champions. When Gregg was coaching us, suddenly all of what Jack was saying made more sense. Jack Lyon comes from a little bit different era regarding the singing. The sound had a richness to it that it lacks today. A fullness. A texture. A thickness in the sound. And a whole different feeling that came along with it. It's gone among the new quartets but I hope to someday capture it in ours. To me it's what it's all about.

Anyway, we got coached a LOT! We were dog-tired. Saturday was the most tiring. It was also the most fun. Durring lunch, we kind of gravitated toward the table where The Most Happy Fellows were sitting. They were all sitting around with some of their buddies singing but they couldn't get through any of the songs because they were fooling around so much that they kept on cracking up laughing. There was one old timer singing with them and right when you thought they might actually get through a song, the guy poors the rest of the water from his water bottle on his own head! Then they cracked up some more. At one point, he called Chris over to give him some pointers. He told Chris to hold his hand and pretend that he was his girlfriend and sing the love song. But Chris told him that all he could think about was her head on his body. So then he proceeded to insert two water bottles into his shirt pretending they were breastisists to add to the illusion. In the middle of the song, just when Chris had finally stopped laughing enough to sing the song, he spat out his teeth and sat there staring googly eyed at Chris with his teeth hanging out of his mouth onto his chin. It sho' was a sight, heh heh!

Then we had some more coaching and then the big show where all of the quartets that came to be coached got to preform what they were working on. That went well. Then came the afterglow. (It's pretty much an afterparty where everyone eats pizza and stands around singing.) We were outside with everyone else when we noticed in the window of one of the rooms The Most Happy Fellows were singing inside. So we knocked on the door and they invited us in. Outside was like a mob but inside was a more intimate setting. We could tell that most of the people in the room knew each other very well and had grown very close over the years. There was a kind of magic that we witnessed among them and it materialized in the conversation and in the music. The songs they were singing weren't just songs, they were life. They were telling the stories of years past and their experiences together by singing the songs. The stories weren't in the songs in and of themselves, but the stories were in them singing the songs. (Does that make sense?) The way the lead would look at the baritone and he'd look back. Then they'd both turn and look at the tenor and he'd look back. And each one knew what each other one meant. With their glances at each other or the way they would choose to sing a certain note or the way someone listening to them would nod his head all said the same kind of thing. "You are my friend and I am yours after all these years." And that's something wonderful. That's what I hope to have someday with our quartet. And I think the older guys picked up on that and appreciated the fact that we chose to spend the time singing and talking with and learning from them. I told them, "We'd rather be in here learning from you guys who do it the way we hope to do it someday than out there where they're all doing the same thing. They were some of the oldest guys there and we were a few of the youngest. And I think they felt a kind of affection for us because there was something we understood about the music and the experience that most of the young people doing it nowadays don't. They knew that we knew. And we knew that they knew that we knew. And they knew that we knew that they knew that we knew... ("...I'd like to go halves on that..." Nevermind. It's a song.) But there was a real magic there between them and between us and between them and us and all was right with the world.

I'm so proud of Chris and Dan. Who would have thought at first that Chris would turn out to be such a great lead after only two months of singing lead? They exceeded my expectations this weekend, that's for sho'. I'm proud to sing with them and call them my friends. It's going to take a lot more hard work to get to where we eventually need to end up, but this weekend proved to me that we are all capable of that kind of dedication. I feel like now that I have my family and my comrades, together we can go anywhere and we are not limited. I found the people I was supposed to find. We can move on now. We can go places. We can progress. And oh we will, my friend, oh we will.

I'm Just So Darn Handsome I Can't Stand It!

2005-08-22T20:30:00.000-07:00

Josh Ryan
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

After you grow up, you don't have school pictures anymore. So I made my own. Aren't I just gorgeous?

A Direct Passageway to My Brain

2005-08-20T10:26:00.000-07:00

Open Ears
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

My hearing is returning. When I was a small boy, I was around some loud noises and I was always getting ear infections. As a result, my hearing was damaged. Then I got tubes put in my ears and my hearing dramatically improved. But over the next years my hearing deteriorated. It wasn't as bad as it was when I was little, but it wasn't as good as it should have been. Over the years, I've learned to listen intently all the time.

Well, at work about a year ago, all of the sudden in one moment everything got a little louder and clearer. Not much, but slightly. Since then it has steadily improved. I think it might have something to do with my singing. One must learn to tune the ears in order to sing close harmony. At any rate, it's pretty good. I find that I'm not asking people to repeat themselves as often and I'm even starting to notice sounds that other people don't hear.

Now the question is: Is there anything worth listening to?

Devil Gone Fishin'

2005-08-13T14:56:00.000-07:00

DevilGoneFishin'
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

My boss, John (the other barber at my work,) said something that made a lot of sense. Something I already knew but somehow failed to apply to this situation. He told me that as much as I think that the devil has gotten hold of many of today's youth through things like rap and gangs and MTV and sex in the media and all that, the devil is subtly trying to get to me through my frustrations with those things. I've tried to talk to some of the kids who come in to me for haircuts but one out of a hundred listens MAYBE. And it's maddening. I mean here I am; I went through most of what they're going through and much much much more and what I'm saying makes 100% sense yet they don't listen. They don't listen on purpose. They insist on remaining ignorant. They try not to understand because if they understood, they wouldn't be ignorant anymore and they would be just plain stupid. But as long as they're ignorant, they can just play dumb and say, "oh I didn't know any better," and as far as they're concerned, it won't be their fault when they've gotten in trouble or their lives are in ruin. Then they can blame the cops. Or their parents. Or their teachers. They never have to take responsibility. And as a result, their lives just get worse and worse as time ticks by ever so slowly and irreversably, trapping them and pushing them steadily further and further away from the opertunities they once had when they were young to stand up and rebel against the devil's propaganda that they are bombarded with day in and day out from all sides and really be somebody. Right now, they have a chance. A big chance. And although the chance never dissapears completely, it does shrink away in time and become lost in the fog that surrounds a clouded mind.

We've all heard the poem Footprints where the person always saw two sets of footprints on the sand, one his own and the other that of Jesus. But in hard times, he only noticed one set of footprints. He asked Jesus why he had abandoned him, but Jesus replied that the one set of footprints that he saw was Jesus's own, for it was then that he carried him. Most of us have heard the story. What the story illustrates is that the lord is always with you even though you may not realize it or see him.

But what the story doesn't address is that the devil's always with you too. But you don't see his footprints because he neither walks beside you nor carries you. You never see his footprints because YOU are the one carring HIM! But you don't always notice. The devil has many forms. He first starts out as a tiny spot on your back. Like a scab. Very small. An itch. You almost don't notice it except it's just something that irritates you. Then it grows ever so slightly. It becomes the size of a quarter. But you don't go and have it removed because it's too hard or it's not enough to worry about. But it spreads. It grows. It sprouts arms and legs. And a tail. It gets bulkier. It gets bigger and bigger. It becomes bigger than you. You don't notice that it's so heavy because it grew gradually. You don't realize it's wearing you down. It's a heavy load. Other people can see it. They see a tiny person walking along giving the devil a piggyback ride. They may say something, but you just brush them off because if there was really a problem, you'd know it right? But you don't know it. And here's the amazing thing. The one set of footprints that you see belongs to Jesus. You see, he's carrying you carrying the devil. He has you in his arms while you have the devil on your shoulders. Not only is Jesus supporting your full weight, but the full weight of the devil on your back. Jesus doesn't say, "I won't carry you as long as you are carrying that THING," no sir. He says, "If the only way to carry you is to carry the both of you, so be it." He carries you along with all your flaws.

That's what I haven't been paying enough attention to in regaurds to the kids I try to talk to. The lord loves them just as much WITH the tatoos and the saggy trousers and the stolen bottles of beer in the pocket of their big puffy jackets and the joints sticking out of their gold teeth as he does WITHOUT. The lord sees past all that. But with my clouded mind, I've been having trouble looking past those thing. Jesus loves those kids even if they don't want to listen to me. And it says in the Bible that Jesus commands me to love them too even if they don't want to listen. And when I fail to see the kids as they really are behind all those things is when the devil makes his move in my life. The devil has a hook on the end of his fishing pole with my name on it and he baits it with the things he knows I tend to get hung up on about people. He turns the things I want to help them with into weapons against them AND me. He makes doing his work look like doing God's work. He fixes it so that when I'm not paying attention, I do more harm than good when I try to help some of these peolple. To bring people to Christ, one needs to be like a guiding shepard, not a lassoing cowboy. You can't force people to learn what they need to learn. You need to show them and lead them. And if they don't follow, you can't wait around. They will only hold you back and prevent you from moving forward and that's where the devil finds you. And in some ways, thats where I've found myself. I've gotten so caught up with trying to help these kids that don't want to be helped that I've become bitter and resentful towards them about it instead of seeing them how God sees them.

Now we're all human, so we all make mistakes. But it's time for me to get back on track. I see the devil's fish hook drawing ever so near that has been baited with things I gravitate towards. So now's the time to move before the bait gets too tempting and I forget how to do the right things. See, the devil doesn't just use hate to get what he wants, he uses love too. He uses your goodness. He uses the things you're good at. He uses your relationship with God and other people to get to you. He's smart. And the Bible says that he's more powerfull than humans. So even if you're trying to fight God's battle, if you don't have on God's armour, you will only destroy yourself and you may take a few poor souls with you along the way.

Ding Dong! The Barber's Dead!

2005-08-07T15:07:00.000-07:00

tombstone
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan. My uncle posted an entry on his online journal asking people to write a personal ad for him. That gave me an idea. I would like anyone who reads this to write my future obituary. I know it seems grim but I wonder what people would say about me after I'm gone. Would people say GOOD things? Have I made any kind of positive difference AT ALL? Please be honest if you write one and please- no joke obituaries. I can already see people writing, "Josh Ryan - He was really weird," and that could get old real fas t. No, I want you to write it as if you were asked to if I really died. (Don't worry. I'm not killing myself or anything.) I just want to know what people think and if and how people's thinking would change if I suddenly wasn't here tomorrow. Would I suddenly become a sensitive, influential young man who touched people's lives and will be missed? Or would people still think I was an @$$hole?

Please post my obituary as a comment below. Thank you for participating!
>

Invasion!

2005-08-04T21:30:00.000-07:00

Invasion!
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan. I hate to fill these entries with a lot of negativity, but if I don't let it out here, I'll let it out in bizare ways in my everyday life. And that's not healthy. You don't have to read this if you don't want to.

Ooh, where do I begin? Ok. Ra p is evil. It is an instrument of the devil. Millions of kids are running around conforming to a lifestyle promoted by the worst, sleaziest, lowest sort of people who's only job it is is to make those kids think that they are cool and want to buy those records. And the way they do it is by appealing to the sinful nature of human beings. But the vast majority of those human beings are kids vulnerable to that kind of suggestion. Adults are more solid. We see a picture of one of those rap guys and our firs t instinct is to chuckle. We all know that kind of stuff leads to a life that is unhappy and unsuccessful. But to a kid, that guy's cool. He falls for what the guy's saying. When the rap guy is on the TV in the hot tub with his "ho's," the kid actually b e lieves that's the way the guy lives. Same thing with the rap videos where the guys have guns. "Oh, that's cool. I should have a gun." And don't try to tell me that they don't. I cut a lot of kids hair and I see what they have. Guns, reefer, booze, you n am e it. I've seen it. And good kids too. Kids that Grandma thinks are wonderful. But Grandma doesn't see them around their friends. She doesn't see them getting in fights or smoking a joint or having sex with some loose "ho."

Anyway, there's n o d isputing that the kids are influenced by rap and it's culture. Then some kid in a d oo rag with his trousers around his ankles says, "Oh I'z ain't influenced by it. I'z just listenz cuz it'z tight!" Bottom line with this one: Kids ARE influenced and anyon e who tries to dispute it is an idiot. Because it's SO obvious to anyone who sees it but is not a part of it.

"Ok Josh. But they'll grow out of it."

Yes. Some will. Many won't. Thirty-five-year-olds who come in the shop haven't grown out of it. Tattoos all over their arms, baseball cap off to the side, general bad a ttitude. They don't even know it. Every other word that comes out of their gold tooth filled mouths is the "F" word and when confronted, they don't even know they sa id it. They're pathetic. They're hopeless. They're screwed up. Then they so and have sex w ith their "ho" girlfriends and have screwed up kids. Then we have more screwed up adults.

Today we have way too many kids in our society in danger of fai ling in life. No ambition. No sense of right and wrong. No sense of what's acceptable and what's not. Does anyone think they're really going to get a job looking and talking like that? (I mean other than McDonalds.) Oh I forgot. They don't need a job. They're ALL going to be rappers and basketball players. They have been brainwashed by MTV and similar institutions into being little clones of eachother. You should see them. They really do all get the exact same haircuts. They think they aren't conforming, but t hey are the biggest conformists. They are afraid of learning who they are on the inside. They are afraid their little buddies will laugh at them if they show any signs of a successful attitude. They are lost. The Devil's got 'em. "oh Josh, isn't that a li ttle extreme?" No! When they'd rather be like Emimems or Snoopy Dog or Half Doller or whatever their dumb little nickmames are than be like Jesus Christ, then you know: The Devil's got 'em. Hey, I didn't make up the rules.

So, they ruin their o wn lives and that's fine, right, but do they have to make life miserable for the rest of us? Do they have to drive down the street playing that gaud-awful noise? Yes. They have to. Because without it, they are nothing. (They think, somewhere deep down.) T hey are nothing but scared little kids who's parents weren't there for them and who ha ven't a clue what's going on. They are naked on the slab. They don't know God. They don't know much of anything. They are parasites. They think they need the r ap lifest yle to feel like they belong to something. And it doesn't really matter what they belon g to. Today, being the bad guy is just as good as being the good guy. To them, being a good-for-nothin' low life thug is a legitamate choice. As long as ther e are othe rs who are making a mess of things like them, then they're not the only ones. So they pr omote ignorance. They promote violence. Promiscuity. They promote evil. They go around collecting as many fools as they can so they can have a big world fu ll of fools. As long as they never have to know any great people, they can be comfortable knowing that they are just like all the rest of the morons they surround themselves with. And as long as they never have to know any smart people, they never have to be found o ut- caught hiding behind their identical haircuts and clothing and rap and cookie-cutter personalities. They recruit others by being loud and monopolizing everything around them. They do it in loud obnoxious ways. They play it from their cars. They wear i t about their bodies. They graphiti it on public buildings. Some get famous and broadcast it through the boob tube. They monopolize and manipulate. They influence. And other kids fall for it. And so it becomes a cycle.

A perfectly relaxing atmosphere in the barbershop can suddenly become disrupted by one or two of the little twerps. It happens all the time. People are sitting about reading or conversing. Th en all of the sudden-BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM- here come the little magots. In they walk. "W AZUP!" They sit down all over the sofa taking up as much space as they're physically able. They talk as loud as they can cursing up a storm no matter who's there. When you say something about it, they say, "My Bad," whatever the hell that me ans and then t hey go back to doing it anyway. It goes in one ear and out the holes in their dumb heads. All they talk about is the rims on their cars, their shoes, or having sex. Most of what they say is offensive to those around them. They don't know h ow to have a co nversation. Their cell phones go off. But it doesn't make a ringing sound, oh no. It has to be the most obnoxious rap sound they could find. And it keeps going off.Their buddies come in to see them but don't get haircuts. A f ew patrons leave at this point even before I've had a chance to ask the kids' friends to wait somewhere else so the place doesn't look busy. All I get is blank stares. I repeat my request. It takes often up to five times for them to respond. They've infil trated what was once a nice, peaceful, relaxing environment and turned it into a loud, disorganized, juvenille, chaotic ghetto. And it doesn't just happen in the barbershop. It happens everywhere. One can't even go to the grocery store without being surrounded by it. Or the library. Or the freeway. Or church! It's like a disease that keeps getting bigger and bigger and bigger. It's everywhere. It's an invasion!
"-

Transitions

2005-07-30T18:01:00.000-07:00

I have been very busy recently in some ways and in other ways I have not. Having a baby around the house keeps one busy with a lot of the same things day after day, leaving little time for other things. People often complain about how their lives change a fter having a baby. Or at least they "warn" you jokingly about how things change by saying things like, "just you wait and see!" But it seems to be a change for people that they don't seem quite happy with. "No more partying," (even though they do it anyway,) "No more social life," "No more this or that." I answer that: yes- their is a change, but no- it's not a change like people say it is.

For the most part, our lifestyle structures have changed very little. We were never much for going out drinking or any other types of "mass socializing." We've always been more "serial socializers." We enjoy small, intimite, carefully selected groupings of friends or family. We enjoy making it a bit of an art mixing and matching personalities together into a small gro up. It's fun to see if people who have never met will get on like we thought they would. And for the most part, people still come to the house almost as often as they did.

But I will have to admit, our day to day routine (if you want to call it that) has been slightly different. We no longer have time for some of the small things that kept us occupied before. I miss a very small part of this, yet I've noticed that the insight I've gained from this aspect of our adjustment has proven a greater treasure th an any of the pettiness that I've missed out on that we all love so much. It's almost like moving into a perfect mansion, yet a very small, easily dismissed part of you still misses the gaudy wallpaper from your old apartment.

This brings me to the point of this entry.

In being less active in some ways, I have been able to notice a lot more about the people around me. In particular, I've been noticing a lot of changes going on within the people around me, many of which I'm close to and some of which I k now only by circumstance such as customers from the barbershop and so on. I have been seeing people making different kinds of decisions. I have been noticing that people are thinking about things a different way and/or aquiring a different mindset. I have seen processes occur in people's lives. I see people becoming slightly different people. I have been witnessing some lost people becoming found and I have been witnessing a few found people becoming a little bit lost. Some are changing not for the worse or for the better; just different. Not that that's a bad thing, but it does require me to make adjustments in my mind that places me further from the way I'm used to things. Further from my "comfort zone." And, of course, any adjustment is a bit stressfu l. Yet the more I think about it, the more I find comfort in that because I realize that these changes are necessary for my own personal evolution. In experiencing these things, I become a slightly different person day by day. And I find in many ways that the further I'm removed from my "comfort zone," the more I notice oppertunities for me to become closer to God.

Whispering Pines Part 3: Designing a Conversation

2005-07-17T20:24:00.000-07:00

We Write the Story
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

(Don't worry folks, this is the last of the Whispering Pines entries for now.)

One other thing I learned during this trip is: I'm a pretty weird dude. Not just people think I'm weird, but my methods are rather unique. I think those who are reading this who were with me on vacation could concur. I will share with you some of my conversational statagies. (I'm not talking about small talk, I'm talking about real, pure, intimate, purposeful conversaion.) I will rarely have a conversation without some sort of purpose. Oh sure, I've had small talk. (And I must admit I'm not very good at it.) But in my mind a conversation has to lead somewhere. It must have a purpose. It must somehow make progress. It doesn't always have to achieve a goal by itself, but it must at least move toward a goal. It must break down some kind of barriers and move forward.

And a conversation has a form. A sort of loose backbone. When I begin a real conversation, I have definite main points I want to adress and conquer. Often the people with whom I'm having the conversation don't know what I'm doing, but that's not nessesary. Most of the time, if the conversation seems slow or hurried, akward or confident, it's done on purpose. These things are important factors in reaching a goal. They are nessesary for providing the proper conversational atmosphere to solicit an emotional or psycological response, often in an extremely subtle way. Action can prove to be just as important or useful as dialoque. Everything. The content. The length of the conversation. The rythm. All these must be decided at the begining. They must be designed like a film or a work of art. And one must be very attentive to the other person's part in it. If the conversation is getting away from you, you have to know how to recover. If the other party tries to unknowingly comprimise the integrety of it, one must know to steer it right again. That isn't to say monopolize it or manipulate it, but to eaze it into what it's meant to be. You don't buy a sculpture for your home and then cut off it's head because it's too tall for your ceiling, right? No, you choose a smaller sculture. That means if someone enters into a conversation of a certain type, it must be indicated through sometimes subtle use of content. By the content at the beginning, one should give the other party some kind of clue as to the length of the conversation in order to successfully carry out your agenda. (Here it sounds like some kind of conspiracy, doesn't it? Rest assured, that's not what I'm talking about.)

In the barbershop, conversation between the two barbers is oft interupted by an incoming patron. One learns, then, to adjust for this by building one large conversation out of many small, fragmented conversations. I often use that tactic in other conversations. What may seem like a small, pointless, random, or insignificant or odd encounter with me may just be designed to plant the seed for a bigger conversation. Or it might be a kind of connective tissue between themes in one long over all conversation.

Now I didn't write this for anyone to be overly skeptical or observant in a conversation with me, but rather I'm merely being honest. I would rather be upfront about it than appear sneaky. I don't always keep these strategies secret durring the conversation, but sometimes I do and I don't want anyone to get wise to it and think I'm trying to manipulate them.

So, there you have it. It's far from all of it, but it's some of it.

Whispering Pines Part 2: Social Improvements

2005-07-17T18:12:00.000-07:00

Aside from my tale of woe, I have to say that the week was tremendously successful. I just about made the progress that I wanted to make this trip in regards to my role in people's lives. Most of the time, I was able to sit and be pleasant (which is quite a thing to say for me.) I felt that (without compramizing myself) I was able to be myself and co-exist with those who I've known to make different decisions than would I. I didn't have to become what they were in order to interact. Most of the time I was on my "best behavior." (I hate that term.)

See, it's been a huge struggle for me. Because of my profound respect for people and their potential, I have a habit of making myself unpopular among people I care about by coming on too stongly and assuming they WANT to be happier, successful people. Many don't seem to care. And, begging your pardon, but I think that's a pity. A pity and a shame. But you see my dilema. . . I often see more in people than what they are showing. I see the kings and queens that people are meant to be even though they act like fools and knaves. They want everyone to think they're capable of nothing more because to rise up and become the hero that God intends you to be requires a little more effort. It takes patience and it takes moxie. It takes an adjustment. And I'll be the first to admit it's easier said than done. It's taken me years to get to this point. And that's just short of square one. Square one is the point at which new information can be presented. Where enough trust is earned in order to gain credibility among the people you'd like to see succeed to present ideas that will be benificial to them. I've learned that if you are not at that point, nothing you say will stick and all you do is harm, not good. I still have to undo some of my "anti-progress." For years I went on with good intentions but the wrong way and I'm still fighting through the rotten weeds I sowed. It hasn't been easy. And how can I require others to do this if I can't do it myself? That's what I've come to learn. God calls a man to be a fisher of man, not a harpoonist. And I'm just beginning to figure it out in a practical way. I've known it for a long time in theory, however, in practice it's a new experience. And a long way to go still. But hey, I'm only 23. I've got a little time. Maybe I'll have everything figured out by the time I'm 24.

Whispering Pines Part 1: Old Habits Die Hard

2005-07-15T10:21:00.000-07:00

Gamon
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

Whispering Pines is a place in the woods where I have been going every year at the same time with a large group of families for years. My grandparents have gone with their freinds and most of that generation have their families that go. So there's a big group of us that stay in cabins there and for a week, we're all neighbors.

I shall begin with the unpleasantness in order to get it out of the way. I could have left it out, but I felt the need to write about it at least a little.

Here's the basic story. My friend Dan came with us. He brought his hooka. I didn't have a problem with this as he only uses it to smoke tobacco. (It's a nice flavoured tobacco and it smells really nice.) He doesn't use it to smoke reefer. He doesn't do that stuff.

So anyway, there's another big group that stays there durring the same week we do. Most of them are very nice. We sometimes socialize with them on their cabin porch.

On the Forth of July, one of the other group's porches was host to a big crowd including mostly members of their group and a few of ours. Lots of drinking was going on, so my wife and I went for a walk. When we returned, Dan was sitting on their porch with his hooka. He had been invited up onto the porch with it. He had made it clear what was in it. I came up to him to talk to him. Then a drunk guy who comes with the other group came up way too close to us and told Dan to "get the hell off the porch with that thing" and then he turned to me and said, "and you can go with him." One of us asked did we do something wrong? Then the guy who was renting that cabin who was sitting down who I also really don't know shouted, "You're not welcome on this porch!" I said, "I don't understand." We were walking off the porch at this point, but the first guy was still crowding us physically. He said something like, "Get the f*** out of here." Then the guy sitting down said, "Because what you do. . . it's not-uhhhhh- it's not what I do. . ." With the big guy crowding us and the general attitude of the two guys, I was starting to get a little pissed off. I said something to the effect of, "Well I guess 'what you do' is just get drunk every day and act like a**holes." Then the big guy got really mad. All I wanted to do at that moment with every instinct in my body was to put a pick-ax through his ugly fat face. But I had to resist the urge to get in a fight. I said, "No. I didn't mean that. I really don't want a problem. We're going." But Fat-head wasn't having any of it. He still wanted to fight. (What a big man. He wants to beat up the guy with the bow-tie, right?) But being so physically agitated and clouded in my thinking, I just stood there. It just sort of slipped my mind that I could still keep walking away. I heard someone say, "Just walk away!" Then I thought to myself, "Oh yeah. I could just walk away." So that's what I did.

A few minutes later, Dan went back and said he was sorry and he didn't mean to cause a problem. But by then, the two drunk bastards had gone inside. I came along wanting to apologize as well and got a pretty stern talking to by Uncle John. He said it wasn't a good time. I was a little insistant, but John made it clear that it wasn't a good idea.

That's about the end of the story. A few years ago, I might have gotten in that fight. I've got a lot of anger somewhere inside me that tends to want to come out when someone's being an *sshole. Especially when they're drunk. There was a fight that night, but it wasn't between us and them; it was between me and myself. I took a lot for me to walk away. I was caught off guard. But I know I have to not fight. Not only because it's wrong, but also because it's dangerous. He could have beat me up. (Probably not. He's a big guy, but it's just about all blubber. But then again, so am I.) And if I had gotten the upper hand in the fight, some of his sorry excuse for a family was there and they would have jumped in. Trailer trash like that don't know how to have a fair fight. Now, assuming I was beating him and no one was jumping in, I wouln't be able to stop. I would kill him. I would keep stomping on him after I'd killed him. But anyway, I'm 105% certain that I wouldn't have gotten that far.

Here I am. I thought I was doing so well and then something happens to make me realize that I have hardly made any progress at all. I just had to open my mouth. I had to say something. In that way I failed. I was dissapointed in myself. Uncle John seemed mighty dissapointed in me as well. I mean, here I am, I'm someone's father and one little thing happens and I turn into the angry ten year old I was when I was a boy. That shouldn't happen. I learned from this experience that I need to be a more solid person.

Graspable Extremities

2005-06-26T22:01:00.000-07:00

Mustache
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

"The qualification for membership [into The Handlebar Club] is defined as 'a hirsute appendage of the upper lip with graspable extremities.'" Not that I'll join, but it's nice to know my mustachio has made it this far. I like my new mustache even if people nowadays think it looks funny. My big eyebrows and gruff disposition tend to make me look angry all the time, so a slightly comical accoutrement helps to make me look a bit more approachable. It's also rather appropriate for a barber. But perhaps it's more than that. Maybe the reason for my choice of facial hair lies deep within my subconcious stemming from my childhood.

You see, when I was a little boy of about five years of age, I was always making masks out of paper. Superheroes, clowns, disquises, etc. And I wore them everywhere. I once made a Halloween mask of a certain character from a cartoon show and when I went to school, some kid had a store bought mask and costume of the same character. His mask was so cool! In the Halloween class photo, his was neat looking and mine just looked like a washed out piece of paper tied onto some little twerp with a piece of string. I was very jealous. I always wanted to make the masks as realistic as I could because I wanted people to think that I was actually the person I was dressed as, whatever the character may be.

At one point, I remember saying to my mother and grandmother, "I made another mask," and them getting a look on their faces that I didn't yet understand. But looking back, I can interpret the expressions as somewhat ill at ease. As if to say, "What's wrong with this child?" So I can conclude that it seemed rather like an obsession according to my perception of my family's reactions.

This behavior spilled out into other things as well. I remember as a boy of eight, nine, ten putting peanut butter or wet tissue paper or ketchup all over my face trying to duplicate make-up procedures I had seen in making-of documentaries of various horror and sci-fi films. I had a few unique personas- characters that I made up that I would dress up as and act like, much like a comedian would do such as Andy Kaufman or Steve Martin. Or Gilda Radner. And, although Christmas was always my favorite holiday, Halloween always felt like it was "my day."

Then I was a teen-ager. I tried it all. Dyed hair, nails, all kinds of rather theatrical clothing choices. Even in high school, I was wearing a kind of psycological mask. And, for the most part, I kept my true personality fairly concealed. I suppose all teens do that, but I think I did it more. To many other students, I was a very mysterious figure.

Well now that I've grown, I don't know what. . . I suppose you could say that I haven't changed much in regards to the theatrical side of my personality. I still wear somewhat distiguishing clothing. I like to wear a bow tie. And if not a bow tie, I always wear a regular tie, but I'm very picky. I usually wear suspenders, (although that's more a matter of comfort.) Most of my shirts have similar characteristics. I'm very uncomfortable in a "T-shirt" or shorts. I never wear them except on vacation. I am usually very slightly overdressed. And my clothing usually takes on a bit of a 20's/30's feel. I don't mean to dress so specifically, it's just that I really don't like a lot of other clothing. In the stores, I'm always drawn to clothing that just happens to look like everything else I have. It's very easy to describe me if you were ever looking for me in a crowd of people.

So could my new mustache be just like the masks I wore as a child? Perhaps. But consider this: I always made them myself. Most of them were original creations, not copies of others. They were worn externally, but they came from mine own imagination. From the inside. So am I continually and habitually trying to be someone else? I don't think so, but I could be wrong. I think it's more a matter of trying to get my appearence to take on more characteristics of my inner self. The real me. On the inside. I'm just not a jeans kind of guy on the inside.

Believe me, I really don't think about this stuff that much. But little things can sometimes lead to understanding one's self or others a little more clearly. One thing's for certain: whether real or imaginary, there's no denying that most people consider me quite a character. And I suppose it really doesn't matter whether that's good or bad.

Oucha' Mind

2005-06-25T20:56:00.000-07:00

Mr. Carter
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

My old barber instructor, Mr. Carter, looked and acted exactly like the barber from Coming to America, (a John Landis film,) one of the many roles in the picture played by Eddie Murphy. Same hair, same face, same attitude, same voice. He was very animated was always telling people, "Yoo must be outta' yo' gatt-damm mind!" He was a very good instructor though. He taught me nearly everything I knew about cutting hair. And he always had me in the chair next to him because he knew I was more serious about it than the other students. He called me his number one student. And he didn't mind embarrassing you, either, if it meant you got better. In front of the customer, he'd say, "Never never NEVER do that again!" And I'd say, "but-" and he'd say, "Look! You f***ed it all up! Now he looks like a gatt-damm porcupine!" Then he'd go from angry to giddy in a split second and start chuckling. He just couldn't keep a straight face because the haircut looked so funny.

When he left, the school got a new instructor who was just awful. Mr. Carter certainly had his ways, but he was a true barber. I'll always think of him when I hear the song Bad Mamma Jamma.

Test

2005-06-18T21:08:00.000-07:00

Fireworks Castle
Originally uploaded by Josh Ryan.

testing. This is only a test. I made this picture from pictures I took in Disneyland. I am using it to see if I can post it. It seems to be successful.

Here's to You, Mrs. Robinson

2005-06-18T11:20:00.000-07:00

Warning: Feel free to read this if you want to, however some of you folks that know me might be uncomfortable reading this and might look at me funny next time you see me. If so, I encourage you to stop reading at any time. I don't mind if you don't mind.

Anyway, when I was a teenager, I had way, way too much experience with members of the opposite sex. I am ashamed to say that between the ages of thirteen and seventeen years old, I had slept with about twenty people. And had other sexual experiences with too many to count. Looking back, I now say for certain that this damaged me.

The point of this entry is not to talk about those experiences in themselves, but rather to assign responsibility to some rather disturbing occurances from my youth and from the youth of others all at the hands of older people who should have known better and, I dare say, did know better and did these things anyway.

Many of the girls I met at that age were somewhat sexually experienced and some were not. I don't blame any of them so much as they were kids like me and were not raised well enough to know better. They were young and stupid and going through their teenage stuff, learning who they were and learning from their mistakes. Hopefully they did learn. I'm sure some of them didn't. But many of them didn't have the tools they needed in life to make those kind of decisions. This entry is not about them, but about those who were older than I was. That is to say, some were old enough to be my mother.

When I was a teenager, I was very persistant. That is to say seductive at the risk of sounding corny. And I was always attracted to older women. It was fairly well known among those that knew me at the time that if I was going out with a girl, there was a pretty good chance that a little something might have been going on between me and her mother. At the time, I thought of myself as more of a grown-up than a kid, but when I think now about most of the fifteen and sixteen year olds that I know now, the very idea of any one of them being sexually intimate with someone ,say, in their forties requires some rather uncomfortable stretches of the imagination. What I didn't see then that I see now is that there's something unfathomably wrong with someone in their forties, thirties, even twenties who would open up thier beds, their experience, their bodies to a child. And yes, it is a child. Just because a fifteen year old is starting to look like a man doesn't mean he is one. A fourteen year old is a child. A sixteen year old is a child. Seventeen. I'd even say and eighteen year old is a child. Just because it's legal doesn't mean it's right. But at fifteen, it's not only illegal, it's clearly wrong.

When you're a young lad with some sexual experience with those your own age and are used to the smell of bubblegum and cheap little kid perfume and the feel of jeans or converse shoes or cotton underwear on a girl or bedrooms with posters on the walls and unfinished homework on the desk, in other words, things associated with girls and their rooms, you might get a big kick out of a woman's room. Big bed. Private bathroom. Dim lights. Dresses in her closet next to her husband's trousers. (Or she could be single, whatever.) Her bed doesn't have neon color stripes. You don't smell the perfume marketed towards teens. You smell women's perfume. You feel satin sheets. A down comforter. A woman wears a silk negligee. You can feel her body through it. You can see it. And her body feels different than it did when she was twenty years younger. It feels different from her daughter's. It moves differently. She's already forgotten things about her body that her daughter hasn't even learned about hers yet. Her voice is different. And you don't have to worry about her parents coming home. You have all the time in the world. And it's exotic. And she wants you, you think, because it makes her feel young. And it makes you feel older. And to think, you would have never been here if you hadn't said and done just the right things to her to get her to participate. You compelled her to you.

But the reality is that it really has nothing to do with you. You're not seducing her, she's allowing herself to be seduced which is a crime and a sin. You're the child. She's the adult. She needs to say, "This poor kid is on the wrong track." She ought to try to help the poor kid by being a mentor or some kind of decent adult figure in his life. She should say, "Do you need someone to talk to?" But instead she decides that she's going to make things worse by participating in that child's loss of innocence. But not just innocence; loss of childhood, loss of purity, loss of being intact in a very important way. A way that is necessary for a healthy, well-adjusted individual. She is taking something valuable away from that child by choosing the glamour of sin over decency and righteousness. She says it makes her feel younger, but it's really because she's just a horny old broad who lost her sense of identity when she lost her youth. When she lost her young body. A few blonde or brown hairs became grey so she finds an excuse to behave like the slut she might have been before she got married. Or maybe she's never been around the block and feels that since she got married young, without experiencing anyone besides her husband, she should be able to pseudo-unwittingly victimize her daughter's boyfriend just because he's there and because he made the first move. Pardon me, but that bullsh*t! She knows what she's doing. She can pretend it was his idea and his coaxing that brought her to her knees, but she's the adult. Period. How anyone that age can even begin to entertain the notion that that kind of behavior is acceptable by any standards is beyond me. When the daughter's boyfreind starts flirting and then, seeing that the flirting is successful, begins suggesting, the only thing that should come into her mind is definitely not, "Well, maybe." The only things going through her mind should be, "Out of the question" and "How can I help this boy and perhaps make a possitive difference in his life?" But because she's a weak person and a small person and a cowardly person, she takes the oppertunity to get a little attention and further ruin and damage any chances of happiness and success for this CHILD. Because of her own selfish and perverse insecurities, she decides to join the rest of the wicked, wretched people who have fought to supress this boy's developement and she plays her part in destroying a part of a person.

Strollers

2005-06-16T23:05:00.000-07:00

Well, we made it back safely from Disneyland. We got to see my father's side of the family while we were there and that was very nice. (Actually for me, it was one of the main purposes of our trip.) We had a great time. Wish you were there, yada yada yada. . .

Anyway, things were much different with a baby. No more of this get to the park early business! As parents, we're so happy to sleep in any chance we get. Also, we have to take breaks regularly to feed and change the baby. (Which is only a bad thing if you're antsy.) For us, it was nice because since we've seen everything in Disneyland already anyway, we could go about things in a much more leisurely pace. Also, parent passes were cool. I would wait in line and go on a ride while the baby was eating, and my wife would go on after without waiting. That made things easier. But the main noticable difference was the stroller. When the baby was in it, one of us would push. But when she felt like being carried, one would carry and one would push. At one p oint I had suggested that we just carry the baby in the Snuggli (you know, that frontwards baby backpack thing which is actually remarkably comfortable) but then we'd have to lug around the baby's diaper bag also and it was easier to just roll it. It fel t vulnerable to leave the stroller with all the other strollers while we went on a ride, but as someone said to us before we left, no one comes there to steal strollers. But we did make sure to take our bag with the camera in it on the rides with us sinc e that was the most valuable thing we had besides the baby. We thought we knew every little inch of Disneyland, but I say now that we know it a little better now since we've now learned where there are those little ramps in the sidewalks for strollers an d w heelchairs are and where they aren't.

I had always felt sorry for people with strollers before. I would see people trying to get through a mob of people with a stroller and pity them. But it ended up being a lot easier than I thought. I even develope d my own unique stroller walking pattern to make getting through crowds easier. (I already have a method for walking solo in which I can quickly move across a crowded area without bumping anyone and hardly even touching anyone.)

I can't wait until the bab y's at a better age for it. I want to take her when she's about five like I was. But she still had a good time at four and a half months. Her first ride was the Pirates just like mine was. (She slept through it.) But she enjoyed many of the rides. Mos t rid es there have bright colours and interesting sounds and she enjoyed looking at everything. She was very bright eyed most of the time. She liked the fireworks. At first she was indifferent to the Tiki Room, but when the tiki on the wall close to us wit h th e low voice (you know, the one that goes, "Ee, Ah, Ee-ah-oo-eh!) woke up and started grunting, she lit up and started giggling. She loved it. She was such a joy the whole time. Our baby made this trip just about the best one either of us has ever had.

To see a picture, go to:
flickr.com/photos/27075195@N00/20076453/

e

We're Going to Disneyland

2005-06-10T06:30:00.000-07:00

. . . and you're not!

d

"Your Business is Very Important to Us."

2005-06-08T22:06:00.000-07:00

When you use your Safeway club card, they read your name on the receipt and say, "Thank you Mr. So and So," so you feel important.

I think it's more impersonal than personal because it reminds me that no one knows each other and they have to read it from your receipt.

I think ours hasn't been updated in their system yet because it seems that our phone number pulls up the last person who had our phone number. So when I do my grocery shopping, I always feel important when they look obviously at my receipt and say, "Thank you Mr. Vargas." I don't say anything about it because Mr. Vargas is worth about just as much as Mr. Ryan when they have to read it from a little piece of paper.

Faces Come Out of the Rain

2005-06-08T21:58:00.000-07:00

Dear Abby,
I get into dumb conversations at work with teenagers. I never come to work intending to. I guess I'm just kind of like that. I want to break the habit. I see some kid doing something stupid with his life and I just have to say something. Then t he kid doesn't understand and I have to explain it. Then, he still doesn't get it and I've been talking until I'm blue in the face and the kid's still an idiot and I'm in a bad mood and emotionally and mentally drained and exhausted. Should I just NOT CAR E? I've tried that too, but it feels to me un-Christian. What do I do?

-Signed,
Crazy in California

Dear Crazy in California,

Shut up!

Signed,
Abby

Grandpa and I Now Have the Same Name

2005-06-04T12:17:00.000-07:00

Everyone calls my grandfather "Dad." No one ever calls him Frank which is his name. We were over at Grandma and Grandpa's the other day and while I was walking down the hall to go in the other room, Grandma called out,"Hey, Dad. . ." and I turned and said, "Yes?" but then she said,"Oh I was talking to the other Dad, Grandpa." It was then that I realized that from now on, I have a new name. I think I noticed that Grandma seemed to realize little bit of that as well. As well as a little bit of it's meaning. Weird.

A Musical Recomendation

2005-06-03T21:25:00.000-07:00

If you get a chance, get yourself a copy of the Aviator soundtrack. We just saw the film and it has the best soundtrack of any film I can recall within the last fifty or so years. I recognized almost every song which is very unusual for a recent film.

(P.S. Shut up, Uncle John!)

Soon She'll be Winning the Nobel Prize

2005-06-03T21:15:00.000-07:00

I never knew babies were so interactive. I always thought they just lay there and drool. But how wrong I was! Not to mention, our baby is very advanced for her age. Parenting has been quite a different experience than what I thought it would be so far. It's better, that is. I love my daughter with all my heart.t

Over the Meadow and Through the Woods

2005-06-03T20:56:00.000-07:00

We spent the long weekend at my mom's. She lives out in the forest and the roads had been blocked by snow and they had just melted enough to drive on them. (It wouldn't have been much fun trying to hike up a snowy hill with a baby.)

It was interesting to see my mom at her job. She works in the visitor center durring the summer. That's where people go and ask questions about where to go camping and what to feed the bears and how do they flush the outhouse, etc. You can also get maps and books about trees and all that jazz. But it was funny seeing her in her "uniform." Throughout most of the time I've known my mom, she's always had office jobs. Then she married her current husband and started selling books. They do it out of their home now, so she can do it in her underwear if she wants to. But seeing her behind the counter answering questions was funny. What I mean is. . .

When you go to a place like that-that is a place kind of out in the middle of nowhere- you wonder who lives there. Who works there. See, all the tourists who come in and ask their questions meet my mom very much in passing. To them, she's just the person who answers their questions. They would never bother to think that she's a mother to a fellow like me. Or a grandmother. If she shares a story or a bit of humour, I wonder what they think of her. We all know her, so we understand her personality. We know she's a little different. But these people just want to know "what time they bring the bears in for the night." These people have no idea who she is. And it just made me think about the fact that we seldom do think about those things. My mom's not a ranger but her uniform makes her look like a ranger. So when some family is in their car trying to find a campground, one of them might say, "that ranger lady said it should be right about here. . ." I just think that's amusing.t

I am a Man of Public Service

2005-05-28T09:22:00.000-07:00

I have cut the hair of all races.

I have cut the hair of murderers.

I have cut the hair of priests.

I have cut the hair of men who lost their legs in a war.

I have cut the hair of homeless people.

I have cut the hair of multi-millionaires.

I have cut the hair of men who have lost their wives or children.

I have cut the hair of people who know the meaning of a days work.

I have cut the hair of people who have never known the meaning of a days work.

I have given little boys their first haircut and I have given old men their last haircut.

And I have given very young men their last haircut.

I have cut the hair of liars and theives.

I've even given dogs haircuts.

I have cut the hair of people who always have and always will put others before themselves.

And people who always have and always will put themselves before others.

I have had great conversations and I have had really really dumb conversations.

I have cut the hair of boys who will spend most of their adult lives in prison and boys who have wisened up.

And old men who spent most of their adult lives in prison.

I have cut the hair of child molesters.

And I have cut the hair of men whose job it is to stop them.

I have cut the hair of policemen who've been shot at.

And firefighters.

I have cut the hair of other barbers.

I have cut the hair of an honest lawyer.

Men who hear voices.

And men who have had a vision.

I have cut the hair of my life long friends.

And childhood enemies.

I have cut the hair of people half the man I am, people small in mind and attitude.

And people a hundred times the man I am,
people great in spirit and purpose.

Still Sick

2005-05-28T09:12:00.000-07:00

Well, I was feeling better, then I moved a piano and it came back. Not in the stomach, but in the sinuses. Then we got the bill from the hospital. I won't say how much it was, but all I'll say is that it was way too much for what they did. I will admit that the doctor was very nice, but if I just wanted to meet a nice person, I'd go to a psychologist. But here I am stuck with this huge bill and I don't even feel better.

Skeletons in the Closet

2005-05-18T22:12:00.000-07:00

From working in the barbershop I've learned two things.

Sometimes you really like people you think are such good people untill you find out they have dirty dark secrets that they just don't tell you about.

AND

Sometimes you think someone is the scum of the earth until you find out that they saved someone's life or gave a million dollars to charity or something like that. Some wonderful secret that they just don't tell you about.r

Negroes

2005-05-18T21:40:00.000-07:00

Someone gave me a porcline figure of a black man with earings and a loin cloth with a big red mouth. The little man is holding spoons and tongs and other barware items. He has a hole in his butt for the corkscrew. No one would ever be able to make one of these now because it's so stereotypical. I love that stuff. I would love to see a minstral show, but there aren't any. Too many people have a problem with it. It's assumed that since these things are viewing black people in an unrealistically comical way, that they are somehow trying to be insulting. But ANY black comedian can go on TV and make fun of white people and no one says a word. It's a double standard. On the news, they can't even say that the guy was described as a young black male. It's as if just the mention of race or skin color means that it has to be an insult. I think that's wrong. In a culture where we claim to "celebrate diversity", why is any mention of diversity off-limits? I will be bold. I will say this: I like black people. Many of them that I've met act very different from me. That's a good thing. Different ethnic groups should act differently from each other. So what?

At the barbershop, there once was almost a fight because some white guy came in and sat down next to a black guy and greeted him by saying, "What's up, black man?" Then the black guy wanted to fight. The white guy didn't mean anything by it. He just didn't know any better. If it was a racist comment, I could understand his frustration. But even if it was, don't fight about it! It is a common stereotype that a lot of black guys carry guns. If you're a black guy and someone asks you if you have a gun, would you respond by pulling out a gun and shooting them for being a racist? No! (I hope not.) If we want to end racism, we all need to stop being so sensitive AND stop promoting negative stereotypes. If we want to get rid of negative stereotypes, we should prove them wrong by not conforming to them. I think if Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. ever heard rap, he'd turn over in his grave. I could go a long time on this topic but I won't right now.

As for my little "darkie" statue, I'm going to keep him. I think he's funny. And if anyone doesn't like it, they have to know that it's not doing any harm. They need to just lighten up!*

*Not literally, of course. . .

I Done Took Sick

2005-05-18T21:32:00.000-07:00

I went home Thursday from work because I threw up three times and felt that I wouldn't be able to work as efficiantly as I would like. Then I threw up about eight more times at home. Then, I woke up in the middle of the night with convusion-like chills, even though my fever wasn't very high. So I went to the Emergency Room. They hooked me up to an IV because I was very dehydrated. Then I went home and my fever got worse. Then, after a day or two, I started feeling better. I'm fine now. They said it was "gastrointeritis." (or something like that.) In the hospital I was delerious. Apparently, when they asked me if I would like my medicine in the form of pills or a suppository, I told them to "suprise me." Anyway, I'm just glad it's over.o

I'm Famous

2005-05-06T21:06:00.000-07:00

I am known for shaving words and pictures into hair. So last year, someone asked if I could do it for a book cover. Today, I was sent a copy of the book. The book is called, "The Cult Of Mac" and is out in bookstores everywhere. The picture on the cover is the back of a guy's head with the Apple logo shaved into it. I think it looks nice. It's nice to see your work in public. The book is about people who make art out of their old macs and get Apple tatoos and name their pets Mac-related names and are just generally preoccupied with "Macintosh-flavored" things. It's pretty neat if you are a little like that or know people who are like that.a

The Squeakulers

2005-05-06T20:52:00.000-07:00

The baby has started to laugh. She is three months old and very responsive. The first time she laughed was because we were tickling her. But the second time she laughed was while she was watching the dog chasing his tail. At work, we were trying to figure out how a three month old knows that's funny. Usually that's funny because we have all learned that a dog's tail is part of his body, and when he runs after it, we know that the tail end is always going to run away. And we know that the tail is not the dog's enemy. And we know that if the dog catches his tail, he can't do much. If he pulls too hard, he hurts himself and lets go. (That's usually when he starts all over again.) We know that's funny because of the context. It's funny to try to figgure out why the dog would chase HIMSELF. But to a three month old, wouldn't that make just as much sense as anything else? At that age, nothing makes that much sense. So why would she laugh about that one thing and not something else?

The best answer that we got was that humans are just hard wired to think certain things are funny.

The third thing she laughed at was when the dog said, "Hello." (We have a talking dog. He knows how to say about five or six words.)

Then while I was holding her and we were looking at each other, I laughed at something and she laughed back at me. So I laughed some more and she, in response, laughed some more. And this was our first conversation.

The Great Josh-well Predicts. . .

2005-05-01T16:59:00.000-07:00

Based on current trends, I've made the following predictions. They are in no particular order.

-In about fifteen years, I predict that most Americans will own firearms as the general opinion will be that most people aren't safe in public without one.

-In twenty years, I predict that toplessness for women will be completely legalized. Followed ten years later by legalizing complete nudity for both (or all) sexes. Shortly after, we will see live action billboards depicting sexual intercourse advertising ordinary products from alcoholic beverages to investment banking.

-In fifteen years, I predict that we will see a new trend in hair transplants. Young people will have small tufts of hair transplanted in strange places such as growing out of their nipples or right on the tips of their noses.

-In ten years, I predict that marajuana will be legalized.

-In twenty years, I predict that the drinking age will be lowered to nineteen and the age of adulthood will be lowered from eighteen to seventeen.

-In five years, I predict that gay "marriage" will be legalized.

-In twenty-five years, I predict that all new automobiles and other engines will be fueled by liquid hydrogen, leaving behind only water as it's waste, thereby eliminating most of our polution and halting the greenhouse effect.

-In thirty years, I predict that cash will be obsolete, having been replaced entirely with finantial status cards. Everything will be paid for with this card down to the most insignificant transation. Public transation stations resembling ATM machines will be located virtually everywhere making transations available between anyone.

-In twenty years, I predict that cell phones will implanted into people's heads. The earpiece near their ear, and the mic somewhere in the resonators of the throat or sinuses. Some time later, technology will arrive making it possible for a device implanted in the brain to convert brain activity into to computerized communication files. These files will be sent through wireless technology to other people who have the same device implanted. Their implant then decodes it for them, and they understand it as if it had been explained to them, only more thouroughly. It appears like a new idea, and the person who sent it will come to mind making it obvious that so-and-so sent the message.

-In twenty-five years, I predict that most of our major freeways will be converted into double decker freeways, providing twice the road space and reducing the number of traffic jams tremendously.

-In twenty years, I predict that it will be common to see movies that are entirely computer generated, yet appear as realistic as live action. As a result, we will see more accurately portrayed fact based films. For example, a film about Abraham Lincoln will seem as if it actually stars Abraham Lincoln, but it will be an entirely computer generated character based on photos and what not.

What's Happening to all the Bright Young People?

2005-05-01T16:19:00.000-07:00

As a barber,I have been noticing a few changes lately. The following occurences are now happening on a somewhat regular basis.

#1. More people are getting shot in public.

#2. Junior Highschool kids are starting to get approached and "interegated" by gang members while walking home from school or hanging out with their friends at Burger King or Starbucks or wherever. Most of the time, they are asked what color they "claim". The kids I've talked to all expressed a general feeling of intimidation.

#3. More and more small children are refusing lollypops after the haircuts.

#4. A new variation of the mushroom look is making it's way into teen popularity. It's basically a fade on the sides until it gets to the crown area. Then it just puffs out. It resembles someone wearing an afro wig that's been straightened and is too small so it can only be pulled down to about two or three inches above the ears.

#5. More kids are bringing things to school and/or selling things at school and not getting caught. And not just reefer. Things such as crack, knives, guns, and sexual favors are becoming more popular than ever before.

#6. Girls of sixteen or seventeen are dressing like porn stars.

#7. Suprisingly, it seems that grades are up.

#8. A new gang has formed. IPG. Italian Pride Gang. It's not a gang, really. It's just a bunch of dumb kids acting like they're in a gang. (Isn't that what a gang, is?) Still, fights are breaking out; people are getting hurt.

#9. Kids are having babies younger and younger. (Example: "How old is the baby?" "Two" "How do you like having a little brother?" "He's my son." "How old are you?" "Sixteen and a half.")

#10. Kids are going through puberty sooner as a result of growth hormones in their food. (They're still short, though.)

#11. The powers that be aren't doing much to stop any of it.(

Little Barbershop of Greatness

2005-04-16T08:58:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time I had a vision of what the barbershop could be after some time. My plan was to get three other barbers who could sing. Well, fat chance. I sort of gave up on this idea when I realized how absurdly impossible it would be to find guys who could cut hair AND sing well- not to mention the most important thing, personality. We were talking about this the other day. See, cutting hair is not your job. Cutting hair is about one third of the job. Having a good relationship and getting along with your customers and HOW you interact with them is another third. How the barbers interact with eachother is another important third. This has an impact on the customers. They enjoy hearing us joke with eachother and they enjoy joining in on conversations that we have established already. From the time we get there to the time we leave, it's kind of like one big conversation that flows into different topics naturally throughout various parts of the day. We keep the conversation and the laughter going while the customers put in their two cents worth adding to the conversation as little or as much as they please, shifting the topics little by little (or a lot) thereby leaving their mark on the rest of our day AND the experience of the customers who come in later. In other words, everyone's experience is a little bit different, yet it's all part of the same thing.

As you may imaginge, it takes the right blend of people to create an atmosphere for the customers that is comfortable, fun and exciting, old and new- that is to say youthful AND nostalgic. You need that for the old folks. They like to feel like they are stepping into a piece of their youth from long ago, so it must remain nostalgic to bring to mind images of the past, and youthful to bring to mind images of a time when they were full of freshness and vitality and dreams that had not yet been realized. That's a great gift to them. And it's hard to find barbers who understand that. (And that's just a fraction of the whole thing.) As most people know, it's hard to find a good barber who is good at cutting hair. Good at cutting "your" hair. It's even harder to find guys who get along well together whose personalities fit THAT barbershop. Now try to find someone who can cut hair, has the right personality (not just a good personality, but the RIGHT personality), AND who can SING!!! You may see why I was begining to give up.

But then, a ray of hope. Two guys started to come to our chorus rehearsals. Dan and Chris. Eighteen years old. Good singers. Good friends with each other. Great personalities. Sense of humor up the wazoo! (Which is a neccesity for a succesful barber at THIS barbershop.) They graduate in June. And they are planning to go to barber college starting in late June. They will make excellent barbers at my shop. They are creative and artistic and are willing to learn, so with the training they will recieve at school, but mostly the training they recieve in our shop by myself and by the older barber who was the one who taught me, they will be masters of their craft. It is a dream come true. They have the right personalities for this shop. And I can't tell you enough, that's a one in a million chance. Let alone two guys at once.

They scarcely realize what they are coming into. They are going to be soooo successful. It's like walking into a cave and lighting a match and realizing you're surrounded by mounds and mounds of hidden treasure with a sign that says, "reserved for mister so-and-so" and that's you! With a quartet of barbers, who are great barbers, our shop will be famous. (And if I can't find another singing barber, we'll have a guy who can shine shoes or take coats and hats and clean up the place or something so we have four parts.) It goes without saying that we'll make a ton of money, but more importantly, our customers will experience something they have never seen or felt before. And along with that, like I was talking about before, we the barbers will have an experience over time that no one else has ever had, yet it will be connected all human experience. We and our experience as friends and professionals together will be a part of and encompass all the people who have ever had or carried out a vision, from the humble barbers of the past to all the innovators and the entrepreneurs who have created something great such as Walt Disney, Thomas Edison, Michealangelo, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr., Jim Henson. People with visions and ingenuity. People of progress. And we will be part of all freindships that came before. And like all that came before, we will be part of these things to come. The great innovators of the future. Hopefully in our own small way, we will set some kind of precident. Like I said earlier, everyone has their own unique experience, yet it is all part of the same thing. And that is powerful, my dear friend. Very powerful.p

I Was In The Same Room With John Landis

2005-04-02T11:04:00.000-08:00

So last night Grandma and Grandpa babysat while my wife, my friend Patrick and I went into the city to see John Landis in person. John Landis directed such classics as The Blues Brothers, Trading Places, Coming to America, and The Three Amigos to name a few. He also directed Micheal Jackson's Thriller video.

Anyway, his films, Innocent Blood and An American Werewolf in London were showing and he was there talking to the audience and answering questions before the second feature. The guy who runs the theature is a customer of ours at the barbershop and he put a few tickets under my name at the door. I had to work, so we missed the first movie, but we made it just in time to see them handing out prizes for John Landis trivia questions before John Landis came out. One of the questions was who were the actors who played the Three Amigos, and I answered correctly and won the George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead Ultimite Edition DVD. Then John Landis Came out and spoke. It's not like watching it on T.V. In person he kind of taked about different things then he would have if it was an interview for TV or a DVD. I had never seen the film, so it was neat seeing him talk about the film in person and then watching it for the first time and thinking that the person who made this film is sitting right over there.t

Homophobic

2005-03-30T19:28:00.000-08:00

My mother and I have been having this ridiculous ongoing debate about gay "marriage." Other things too, but that's one of them. It really doesn't work to talk about it with her because the definition of marriage in her mind is different than the definitio n of marriage according to the INSTITUTION of marriage that has been around for thousands of years. Every marriage is part of this. If it is not part of this, it's not really marriage. You can call a chair a table if you want. A chair resembles a table. I t has four legs and a surface and you can put things on it like a table. You can pretend it's a table. But it is not a table. It's a chair. But I can't figure out a way to explain it to her without hurting her feelings. And if I hurt her feelings, she closes off her mind to what I have to say.

She says,"Why are you so CLOSED MINDED?"

But I'm not. I don't hate gay people. I really try not to hate anyone. I'm not closed minded. I have explored all those questions before and have come to a conclusion in a logical methodical way having nothing to do with opinion or emotion. My debate with my mother has nothing to do with any question of rights. At one time, I thought it was all about rights, but I had to be OPEN MINDED enough to take the question into anoth er realm, beyond the question of rights which, I might add, takes a tiny bit of courage to do when you consider that so many people hold the poplular oppinion. (Especially here in California.) It takes a little bit of a journey and there comes a point when you have to crawl through the firing line in order to get to the other side of the issues. That's with almost anything. Most people are content to just sit there with their eyes closed, plugging their ears with their fingers and saying, "La la la la. . . I'm not listening." And as long as you do that no one will prove you wrong. And if you're a petty, small, closed minded type person, you can do that for your whole life. But if you want to know the truth and see things the way they really are, you have to stop talking, take your fingers out of your ears and open your eyes.

Most people in that situation probably never get that far. And if you do, you may not like what you see. You will probably realize that your surrounded by an army of people who are all doing the same thing. Sitting around humming, with their fingers in their ears and their eyes closed. But then, up ahead, you see a few people with their eyes open who are walking, moving, progressing. You see how free they are and want the same for yourself. But the only way to get their is to crawl through the firing line. You then have a choice. Take your chances through the firing line or sit back down, put your fingers back in your ears, close your eyes and start humming. At this stage, sadly, m any people opt for the latter.

But a few move on.

[Just now, as I was writting the last few sentences, I recall reading something.]

In the Bible- (I believe it's in a letter from Saint Paul to the Ephesians if memory serves, but I could be mistaken. And I don't want to go all the way upstairs to look it up. If it's not Ephesians, you shoud read it anyway. But anyhoo, it) makes mention of a "breastplate of rightousness." Armor. Armor from God. We read that with this armor, we can go about our spiritual journey and fear not, for no evil can penetrate it. And all you need to do is open your heart and open your mind and open your eyes and ask for it and God will give you one. Then instead of crawling you can stand up and walk boldly through the firing line. And no matter how hard they try to take you down, they cannot as long as you never take it off. It sometimes feels heavy and may make you unpopular among the army of people sitting around with their eyes closed, but it's the only way to freedom.

And it's not as heavy as you think. It's just your mind playing tricks on you and the suggestions of the dark one. The Devil wants you to take it off. Whose troops do you suppose are shooting at you? Of course he wants you to take it off. He doesn't even want you to put it on. So he'll give you a nice cozy chair so you can relax and plug your ears and close your eyes and he can hope that you never get tired of it or that if you do, he's trained you well enough to be a petty person so that you won't look any fu rther for the truth. And if the Devil has his way, you'll stay that way, forever living a lie.

Anyway. . . back to my conversations with my mother, she makes me laugh. She says, "Why are you so threatened by gay "marriage?" Are you really gay and don't want anyone to know? You're so homophobic!" I know she's joking but isn't it amazing to think that some people use that kind of statement as a serious argument?

(P.S. That's absurd. I'm happily married with a child. I couldn't possibly be gay. . .

. . . could I?)