Trying To Change The World

Adam Yauch aka MCA died today. He was 47 years old. I was sitting in Starbuck's when I read the news. It was all I could do to keep from crying in front of the whole damn shop. I loved the Beastie Boys as a kid and still love them as an adult, and not just nostalgically. They just kept on making great music. And "Egg Man" is one of my eldests's favorite songs.

There's that saying about the unexamined life being not worth living. I'd have to say that anybody who goes from

Roses are red, sky is blue,
I got my barrel attcha neck so what the fuck you gonna do?

to

Well on the tough guy style I'm not too keen,
To try to change the world, I'm'a plot and scheme


inside the span of their lifetime was doing some pretty powerful self-examination. And the fact that he did it in a public setting in a genre of music that's, rightly or not, not often known for evolving towards kindness, is incredibly admirable. Rap, music, art, hell, the world could use more of that.

Rest in peace, MCA. And thanks for everything.

The Berserker Squirrel Rap Which Was Requested Via Social Media Commentary

First, there was this: 

Which was followed by this:

Which brings us to this:

Other night, bedtime for the shorties
I’m in my boy’s room reading up some stories.
Sitting on the bed with the Spiderman steelo. 
With a libro ‘bout wizarding heroes
When my wife runs in with a scream and a shout
Babbling something about rodents falling down from the clouds
“What’s up, lady? We’re tryna read Harry P here”
But she was trembling all kinds of afeared
“It came from the sky! A squirrel on the attack!”
“Where was it?” I asked, she said “Out in the back!”
“It plopped just a few feet away on the deck
Now it’s twitching all over like it’s almost dead.
You gotta go out there, put it out of its misery”
I’m all, “I gotta kill a squirrel? Are you seriously?
Fine, just don’t let the boys be spectators.
They don’t need to see Daddy doin’ squirrel euthanasia.”
Stepped out the back door and sure as hell
It was like somebody’d hooked a car battery to his tail.
Picked up a shovel feelin’ murder in my veins
Said, “I don’t wanna do this, but it looks like you’re in pain.
I’m sorry, furry friend, this sucks for us both.”
I stepped to him, ready to make a ghost.
Gave him a poke, and oh! What a relief!
That squirrel stopped twitching and jumped to his feet.
He ran across the yard and bolted up a tree.
In two seconds flat, he’d departed the scene. 
No blood on my hands, nope, not today. 
No murder for me. I call that a good day. 

Let It Be Known That From This Day Forth, I Am A Fan Of Kanye West

I've never been a huge Kanye West fan. Nothing against the guy, it's just not my preferred brand of hip-hop. I tend to like things a bit, I don't know...grimier. But I'm a fan now because last South by Southwest, he did this:



That band behind him is from Austin's very own Reagan High School, the Soul Raider Marching Band. Reagan, by many standards, is considered to be one of the worst high schools in the city, and hilariously enough, it's where our kids are zoned to go based on where we currently live (hint: not exactly the best area of town). My wife and I are all over the map as to the question of whether we're willing to send the boys there when the time comes. The school's got plenty of problems, the stats don't lie. But that's the thing about statistics: as honest as they may be, as much of a story as they may tell, they don't quite manage to tell the whole story. It's so cool to see these kids get an opportunity like this.

So I'm Writing A Book

So like the title says, a book, I am writing one. A novel. Fiction. There, I said it. It's on the blog, so it's official. I started it about ten months ago and have carried on with it with increasing levels of seriousness ever since then. It started out as the thing I dabbled with here and there and gradually -- wait, back that shit up. It actually started out as a play, a thing to put on a stage with lines for actors to speak, mangle, forget, or ask me to cut, and stage directions for them to interpret, ignore, rewrite, or ask me to cut. But it seemed like every time I sat down and tried to make something happen on paper, it was like I was trying to walk through a brick wall. I'd try taking a run at it, only to be knocked back on my ass with maybe a few pages of crap to show for it.

"I don't remember this being so hard," I kept mumbling to myself.

"You should write it as a book," my wife kept telling me.

"Yeah! A book! Make it a book!" my gut said, echoing my wife.

"Don't you dare write a book! It'll be terrible! A huge disgusting failure! They're all going to laugh at you!" said that mean little voice in my head. Yeah, you know the one. He's a dick.

Why does it feel weird to be writing a post about this particular project? I post about plenty of the other shit I do, so why should this be any different? I don't know why, but it does, like it'll come across as  bragging, which is silly since I hardly have anything to brag about. But anyway, there it is. Weirdness acknowledged. Moving on...

So I started this novel about ten months ago, and I've now reached the point where I write more days than I don't. I lay awake nights thinking about it, trying to fit the pieces together, to understand the  connections that aren't immediately apparent. Which is kind of cool. Here are a few more cool things about it:

• Seeing faith pay off. The idea for this book started with just a few words. Three words, in fact. Sure, I churned on it a lot before I started, but I hardly knew where it was going to lead. Even now, while I can say with certainty that I know what the last moment of the book will be and I know a few of the big milestones between here and there, I hardly know every twist and turn. But I'm growing increasingly comfortable with that feeling of not-knowing. Coming to relish it in fact, because without that feeling, I couldn't experience the moments of epiphany when things become clear, the next few yards of the path are revealed, and I get a glimpse of another pixel in the big picture. 
• Research! The idea of doing research to write fiction used to make me bristle. "I'm an artist! I make things up!" But what is fiction but fact with the names changed, a few details rearranged and, in some cases, the rules bent a wee bit? So it became clear pretty early on that some research would be in order if I was to get certain elements of this book right. This meant reading a lot about slavery, researching the nuts and bolts of dogfighting, listening to a lot of hip-hop (gosh, how awful), reading up on Austin history, etc. My knowledge: it has increased. 
• Writing a lot is a good way to learn about writing. 
• Werewolves. Motherfucking werewolves. 

And here are a few things that are not so cool about writing a book:

• It brings out the asshole in me. I'm a busy guy, so my writing time is sacred. But there are times when something else has to take priority over it and it just can't be helped. And when that happens, Captain Dickhead emerges. 
• It kind of cuts into the blogging time. 

You know, I had a few more bullet points to add to that second list, but they all sounded like whiney bullshit, so I'm gonna leave it at that. Two lovely complaints. Ah ha ha ha.

So that's what I've been up to, aside from the work and the family and the chickens and the beer consumption. Provided that I don't die in the next couple of years, I have a pretty good feeling I'll finish the damn thing. Then y'all can read it. Sound good? Cool.