A journey of my own...

Disclaimer: This blog is going to be different from the other posts that I've made. You might not laugh as much (or maybe you will), but I felt the need to get a few things off my chest.

As you can see, I haven't been keeping pace with Stewart, and I've been catching a lot of flack because of it. So here's the reasons why:

The first reason is that Stewart blogs about three times a day now and I just can't keep up. The second reason is that I've had a few issues in my personal life that have been demanding a lot of my time and attention.

I realize that most people have had to deal with divorce in some facet of their lives (be it personally, your parents, your friends' parents, Aunts, Uncles, Co-Workers, etc.), and up until this point I was no different. My biological parents have been divorced for twenty seven years. But, for a long time I've enjoyed the luxury of having been only one year old at the time of their divorce and I have no memory of my parents ever being married. That, coupled with the fact that both of my parents were re-married by the time I was five (to other people), meant that for most of my life I simply had two sets of parents.

My parents have lived less than five miles from each other for as long as I can remember and growing up I came and went as I pleased from both homes. Both of my parents are what I would consider "Upper-Middle Class", so it wasn't like I ever went without, emotionaly or financially. In fact, I probably had it better than most kids (two birthday parties, two Christmas', two summer vacations, FOUR sets of Grandparents to spoil me, etc.).

Well my luck has finally run out. My Father is currently going through a divorce from his second wife and it isn't pretty. Don't get me wrong, we're not talking Fatal Attraction here, but since my father has chosen me as his source for guidance and comfort through this ordeal, I've had a front row seat to the really unpleasant process of divorce. I don't mind being there for my Father, and I'm flattered that he's picked me to be his confidant, but the residual effects of listening to and counseling someone who's dealing with the overwhelming emotions that divorce brings, can really start to wear on your own outlook on life.... if you let it.

Also, my Grandmother (Mammy) has been in and out of the hospital for the past few months and she is fighting hard to stay alive. She was diagnosed with MS seventeen years ago, and they told her she had five years to live. Well, seventeen years later her strength, resolve and willingness to survive no matter what, is starting to fade. I can't describe to you how much of an effect this has had on my thoughts over the past few weeks.

Most people know that I have a really bad habit (or it could be a good habit if you think about it) of over analyzing everything. I can't help it, it's genetic. I get it from my Father. Which, now that I think about it, might explain why he's having such a tough time with his divorce. Anyway....whatever.

So, over the last few weeks in my analyzation of the issues in my personal life, along with some outside influences on my thoughts (like watching a close friend of mine lose his father to an unexpected heart attack and reading along with Abby Maddox's fascinating internal struggles after the loss of her Mother), I've come to a very troubling realization...

I'm no longer the "dependant" and I am inching ever closer to becoming the "depended on". I have reached the point in my life where my loved ones are beginning to depend on me more than I depend on them. And this is some really heavy stuff for a self-proclaimed over analyzer to deal with.

That realization, along with some of the books I've recently finished and being able to keep up with Stewart's journey of a lifetime, has in turn lead me to another realization:

I'm quickly running out of time to do the things that I've always dreamed of doing. Life moves on, whether you accomplish those things that make you complete as a person or not. You will die, that is inevitable. The question is, will you die having done all of those fantastic things that you've dreamed about, or will you die wishing you would have taken that chance when you had it?

Now I realize that the above statement is something that you've heard a million times before, from a million different people. But let me tell you, when the realness of that statement hits you across the head like a ton of bricks, you will know it. If it hasn't yet, your time is coming. If it has, then kudos to you, because that means you are somewhere right now having lived out that dream. I'm certain of that because, if it hits you like it hit me, there's no way to ignore it.

Having said all of that, I wanted to let everyone know that I am officially changing the name of this blog to "Keeping up with a dream.."

I will now be blogging about the life of a man who's tasked himself with making his dreams a reality. To get all of those things out of life that I've always wanted.

Now I'm not planning some year-long South American adventure (although I haven't ruled that out), but I'm currently working on a project that is going to change my life forever, good or bad. If it's good, it's going to be really good. If it's bad, so what. I'll figure it out when I get there.

For reason's that will be more clear at a later time, I can't share too much right now about the nature of the business, but those of you who know me well, know what I've always dreamed of doing and it's time to do it. For those of you who don't know me that well (or at all), stay tuned...


Moral of the story:

Carpe Diem....Indeed!

Just a note...

To Whom it May Concern,

I have writers block at the moment, and I have for about the past three weeks now. Please be patient as I overcome this mental juggernaut.

~Gonzo


Post Script:

Stewart,

What's with your obsession with Indiana Jones? You've made several references to him in your posts and it's starting to concern me. I swear to God, if you start wearing one of those leather fedora's I'll erase your number from my phone. And we aren't even going to discuss what's going to happen if you start carrying a whip...

Also, most of the readers of this blog will be excited to know that Stewart and I are planning a face to face meeting in Costa Rica in early April. This should make for some very good blog material on both sides...

Sepultura... Indeed.

First of all, Stewart, the correct spelling is Sepultura.

Confession: Not only have I heard of the band Sepultura, I'VE SEEN THEM LIVE!

That's right, it was the summer of 1997 and school was out. This meant a full schedule of social events that included camping at Little River Canyon, long days on the Coosa River and as many concerts in Birmingham at Oak Mountain Ampitheatre that I could afford. Going forward, please keep in mind that this was ten years ago so the details are a little hazy. I'll try to recall as much as I can.

I kicked the summer off strong by catching a DMB show. This was the show that I loosely credit with my ongoing addiction to live music. Say what you want to about modern day Dave Matthews, (and I'll be the first to admit that his most recent efforts have been weak and meaningless) but anyone who saw him perform live in the late 90's and says that it was anything less than Badass, is lying. Period. At the time, it met all of my pre-requisites for damn good music; It was live, it was loud and it was something that I had never heard before.

The next weekend was the "Pink Floyd Laser Light Show", which was absolutely laughable. Not only because it had nothing to do with Pink Floyd or music in general, but also the fact that the "Lasers" were more like moderately powerful flood lights that had been draped with various colors of saran wrap. Add to that the fact that the median age of attendees at this "concert" was 47. More than anything though, I think it was due to the fact that we smoked a joint that was roughly the size of my arm in the car on the drive down, and I spent half of the show sleeping off a "Schwag" buzz on the lawn of the amphitheatre.

After that, I seem to recall taking a couple of weeks off of the concert circuit to clear my head. I spent most of my days on the river, or working at Uncle Sam's Pizza and Submarine Sandwiches. After all, I had to have some sort of income to fund the $22.50 concert tickets, $7.50 half-cases of Bud Light, $1.79 packs of Marlboros and $1.09/Gallon gas (Keep in mind this was 1997) that it took to get me to the shows. But it wasn't long before I had saved up enough money to get back to business.

The next show I attended in my "Summer of Music" was The Allman Brothers. Now obviously this wasn't the original Allman Brothers, but take away the deceased Duane Allman and replace him with a young and exciting Derek Trucks, and you've still got yourself a pretty good band that was pumping out some seriously intense Southern Rock & Roll. This show was exactly what I needed to rebound from the previous debacle that had sidelined me temporarily.

I think there was a Bush concert after that, for their Glycerine tour, but I was on mushrooms for that one so I could be placing it in the wrong spot on the timeline. Regardless, my recollection of that concert is limited, at best, to the first 45 minutes of the drive down. At which point the drugs began to take hold.

Well, the summer was winding down and I was getting ready to start my senior year of High School. But I wasn't going back to school without closing out the summer with a bang. That could mean only one thing..... OZZFEST! For those of you who aren't familiar with the term "OZZFEST", it was a festival in the late 1990's that included modern day heavy metal bands and was built around one major headliner, none other than the (self proclaimed) "Prince of Darkness", Ozzy Osborne. To clarify, I've never been a fan of heavy metal, and I couldn't care less about the music that any of these bands put out, with the exception of a few of Ozzy's earlier songs. I did, however, have a strong feeling that this might be my one and only chance to see one of the legendary rockers of our time, so I bought the ticket.

As I recall, there were four of us that met up one afternoon to make the hour long drive from Gadsden to Birmingham. We had a fifth of Segram's Extra Dry Gin and about two cases of beer that would last us through the show and well into the evening afterwards. We arrived at Oak Mountain and made our way to a spot in the rear of a parking lot that was electrified by a crowd of drunk, redneck, metal-heads that seemed to have reached the Mecca of heavy metal after a long and strenuous pilgrimage that no doubt included several ex-wives, a handful of legal battles, at least a dozen minimum wage jobs and countless failed attempts at a crystal methamphetamine empire.

The first act to take the stage was a band by the name of Type-O Negative. Anyone out there who's never heard this band play, congratulations. It's something that I will never forget. While most of my time was spent in the bathroom, taking shot's of Gin and chasing it with Dr. Pepper, I do have brief memories of some of the set, and it wasn't pretty. It was so bad that I just gagged a little bit while recalling it....seriously.

It only got worse from there. A few other low rate acts followed until the two headliners had done enough drugs back stage to come out and perform. Again I can't tell you much about these bands because most of this time was spent dodging "Fight Pits" on my way to the concession stand where I would try and convince some thirty-something redneck with a sleeveless Ozzfest shirt, jeans shorts and a power-mullet to buy me a 64 oz. guitar shaped Budweiser.

The warm up act for Ozzy was the aforementioned Sepultura. I honestly don't remember any of their music. I certainly don't remember the "Orgasmatron" that Stewart mentioned seeing in their video. I vaguely remember the lead singer wearing this hideous mask that made him look like an evil character from a comic book and it made me laugh out loud. I also remember looking at the people around me (the few that weren't involved in a huge fight) and thinking to myself, "There is no way these people are really enjoying this crap!". But, they honestly did seem to be having a good time and most people by this point were really into the music. They would even cheer really loud for certain songs as soon as they struck the first note, like bama fans do at the first indication of Sweet Home Alabama.

Just to give you an idea of what I'm talking about, this is Sepultura.

WARNING: You will not be able to listen to more than ten seconds of this video.



Finally, all of the warm up acts were finished and it was time for the main event... Ozzy. After about an hour of stage preparations, and chants from the crowd of OZZY...OZZY...OZZY, he took the stage. The place went nuts, including me. I was genuinely excited to see him perform. There weren't any outrageous antics. He didn't kill a bird on stage or anything like that, he just stumbled out and stood there in front of the microphone. First, he played about 1:33 of "Ironman" until he forgot the words, at which point he simply staggered around the stage until it was over. All in all, Ozzy played about five songs, gave his trademark "I love you all" to the crowd and then left the stage. Given his age, and the fact that Oak Mountain isn't exactly the type of venue that gets performers pumped up to blow out an amazing show, I guess I should have seen that coming. Regardless, I felt good about being able to put him on my list of famous acts that I have seen live.

Moral of the story:

You don't have to travel half way around the world to experience really bad music. You can do that right here in Sweet Home Alabama..... and the bammers go crazy.