Part 1 of my podcast conversation with special guest Brad Searles as we discuss band reunions. Listen to the episode below or download it directly (right click and "save as").
Monday, January 30, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Play the Game
This post originally ran in Cold As Ice, the column I write for Popblerd.
The NHL is in the annual mid-season lull known as the All-Star break. It’s a time for the league to celebrate itself with a skills competition, fan festival and of course, the All-Star Game itself. There’s just one problem: The NHL All-Star Game sucks.
The game is designed to highlight the best players in the NHL, but it inevitably looks nothing like an NHL game and more like a game of pond hockey. There’s no defense, no hitting and the final score is usually something like 10-9, which is unheard of in a regular season or playoff game. It’s essentially an exhibition game with even less on the line.
In recent years, the All-Star Game has been overshadowed by other events: The Winter Classic, the skills competition and the latest innovation, the players’ draft. This was a great idea from Brendan Shanahan that started with last year’s game; the fans vote in the starting lineup (don’t get me started on how dumb THAT is—the hometown fans in Ottawa this year stuffed the ballot box and voted in four Senators to the team) and the players draft the 36 remaining players (plus 12 rookies, who will participate in the skills competition).
Last year’s draft was highlighted by the drama of who would be picked last. “Mr. Irrelevant” ended up being Toronto’s Phil Kessel, whose embarrassment was compounded when Alex Ovechkin took a cellphone photo of him sitting all alone waiting to be picked and gleefully Tweeted it. Of course, Kessel gets the last laugh this year, because he’s having a career year (and will likely be picked early since teammate Joffrey Lupul is an assistant captain) and Ovechkin just announced he’s not playing because he’s suspended.
The players’ fantasy draft takes place tonight (Thursday), the Skills Competition is Saturday night and the game itself (ahem, the 2012 Tim Hortons NHL All-Star Game) is on Sunday at 4 p.m. (all games on NBC Sports, the channel formerly known as Versus).
Of course, this problem isn’t exclusive to the NHL. As a rule, all-star games suck. Baseball tried to make its game meaningful by putting World Series home advantage on the line, but that’s unfair to teams that earned it in regular season. The NFL’s Pro Bowl is so meaningless that it’s now held the week before the Super Bowl (aka, also this Sunday), so the seven New England Patriots playing the following Sunday won’t be there. But nobody cares, anyway.
I actually attended the NHL All-Star Game in 2000 in Toronto and without a doubt, the surrounding activities were more interesting and fun than the game itself. So what’s to be done about it? All-star games exist because they’re a way for league sponsors to make a little more scratch, as well as a way for the league to throw a bone to its member cities by generating some revenue for the local economy every year.
I’d like to see the NHL combine the All-Star festivities with the Winter Classic, so that game is the spotlight and the All-Stars still compete in the Skills Competition in the same weekend. Another way to go could be to return to the old pre-expansion pastime of having the defending Stanley Cup champions play against a team of all stars. Either way, the game would be more interesting than the one the NHL is putting on now.
Don’t hold your breath waiting for any radical changes to the All-Star format, though. Just enjoy the exhibition of scoring and wait for the season to resume next week.
The NHL is in the annual mid-season lull known as the All-Star break. It’s a time for the league to celebrate itself with a skills competition, fan festival and of course, the All-Star Game itself. There’s just one problem: The NHL All-Star Game sucks.
The game is designed to highlight the best players in the NHL, but it inevitably looks nothing like an NHL game and more like a game of pond hockey. There’s no defense, no hitting and the final score is usually something like 10-9, which is unheard of in a regular season or playoff game. It’s essentially an exhibition game with even less on the line.
In recent years, the All-Star Game has been overshadowed by other events: The Winter Classic, the skills competition and the latest innovation, the players’ draft. This was a great idea from Brendan Shanahan that started with last year’s game; the fans vote in the starting lineup (don’t get me started on how dumb THAT is—the hometown fans in Ottawa this year stuffed the ballot box and voted in four Senators to the team) and the players draft the 36 remaining players (plus 12 rookies, who will participate in the skills competition).
Last year’s draft was highlighted by the drama of who would be picked last. “Mr. Irrelevant” ended up being Toronto’s Phil Kessel, whose embarrassment was compounded when Alex Ovechkin took a cellphone photo of him sitting all alone waiting to be picked and gleefully Tweeted it. Of course, Kessel gets the last laugh this year, because he’s having a career year (and will likely be picked early since teammate Joffrey Lupul is an assistant captain) and Ovechkin just announced he’s not playing because he’s suspended.
The players’ fantasy draft takes place tonight (Thursday), the Skills Competition is Saturday night and the game itself (ahem, the 2012 Tim Hortons NHL All-Star Game) is on Sunday at 4 p.m. (all games on NBC Sports, the channel formerly known as Versus).
Of course, this problem isn’t exclusive to the NHL. As a rule, all-star games suck. Baseball tried to make its game meaningful by putting World Series home advantage on the line, but that’s unfair to teams that earned it in regular season. The NFL’s Pro Bowl is so meaningless that it’s now held the week before the Super Bowl (aka, also this Sunday), so the seven New England Patriots playing the following Sunday won’t be there. But nobody cares, anyway.
I actually attended the NHL All-Star Game in 2000 in Toronto and without a doubt, the surrounding activities were more interesting and fun than the game itself. So what’s to be done about it? All-star games exist because they’re a way for league sponsors to make a little more scratch, as well as a way for the league to throw a bone to its member cities by generating some revenue for the local economy every year.
I’d like to see the NHL combine the All-Star festivities with the Winter Classic, so that game is the spotlight and the All-Stars still compete in the Skills Competition in the same weekend. Another way to go could be to return to the old pre-expansion pastime of having the defending Stanley Cup champions play against a team of all stars. Either way, the game would be more interesting than the one the NHL is putting on now.
Don’t hold your breath waiting for any radical changes to the All-Star format, though. Just enjoy the exhibition of scoring and wait for the season to resume next week.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Completely Conspicuous 211: Keep Hanging On
Part 3 of my conversation with special guests Nick Lorenzen and Mike Piantigini as we discuss all things rock. Listen to the episode below or download it directly (right click and "save as").
Saturday, January 21, 2012
I'm Watching You
This winter's been a dud from a snowfall standpoint. We're in the middle of a "storm" right now that's dropping a couple of inches of the white stuff on us, but we'll still be under 5 inches for the entire winter so far. Which is fine, but the girls are excited and are out playing in the backyard. They're old enough now (7 and 9) to play outside around our house unsupervised, although I'm constantly checking in on them and I told them not to go down the street. A year or two ago, I'd have been outside keeping a closer eye on them.
Of course, when I think back to myself at the same age, I was playing unsupervised nearly all the time. Like many of my friends, I was a latchkey kid. Both my parents worked, so after I walked home from school (which was probably a good mile, backwards in the snow), I used my own key to go into the house, fix myself something to eat and watch "Happy Days" reruns. Or I got together with my buddies to play street hockey or baseball or soccer. There were no cell phones in the mid- to late-'70s, so I didn't have to check in with anybody. I did have to be home by 6 for dinner, though.
The summer was particularly great because I was able to goof off all damn day. A few summers, I went to day camp, where we'd take a bus to a campground area and do camp-like activities all day before going home every night. Those were run by the town and last about six weeks. But during those times I wasn't in camp, I could get on my bike with my friends and ride all over town, usually to a park where we'd hang out and look at all the graffiti carved into the forts by teenagers. We didn't know what most of it meant, but we laughed anyway.
Halloween was another fun time because I would traverse the whole town with my friends and score tons of candy. Mom stayed home to give out candy, so I was on my own. We never had any problems, except one time when some teenagers stole the bags of chips we'd gotten. It was a minor loss.
It really was a different time. Pickering (the town in Ontario where I lived from age 7 to 14) had a small town feel to it back then, when the population was around 35,000; it since has grown to 100,000 as people have moved out of Toronto to the 'burbs. The only time I was ever scared was when we were sitting on the porch with my dog and she barked at some drunk staggering by; said drunk then sauntered up to us and told her to shut up before going on his way. The dog pissed all over our front steps and I was kinda freaked out.
I read the newspapers pretty closely even as a child and was well aware of freaky shit like the Son of Sam, but it never seemed to touch my world until one time in 1980 when I was visiting one of my best friends, Charlie, who was preparing to move out west to Calgary. He was staying in Cabbagetown, a rough area of Toronto, and I stayed over for a night or two. We were out goofing around in a playground at night and saw some folks come through looking for a little 6-year-old girl named Lizzie who had disappeared earlier that day. She had last been seen in that park, walking hand in hand with a man. We hadn't seen her and I didn't think anything more of it until I got home the next day and heard on the news that she had been found murdered. Pretty shocking stuff. Nearly 32 years later, the case is still unsolved. That was the first time I really thought about the dangers of the big city. Not that those kinds of thing can't or don't happen in the 'burbs, but it really hit home after that weekend in the city.
Now I can't imagine letting my girls go to the park or walk to a friend's house that's farther away than down our street. Call me paranoid, but it's a different world. I'd rather be a little overprotective if that's what it takes to keep my kids safe. Long gone are the days of unsupervised 7-year-olds.
Of course, when I think back to myself at the same age, I was playing unsupervised nearly all the time. Like many of my friends, I was a latchkey kid. Both my parents worked, so after I walked home from school (which was probably a good mile, backwards in the snow), I used my own key to go into the house, fix myself something to eat and watch "Happy Days" reruns. Or I got together with my buddies to play street hockey or baseball or soccer. There were no cell phones in the mid- to late-'70s, so I didn't have to check in with anybody. I did have to be home by 6 for dinner, though.
The summer was particularly great because I was able to goof off all damn day. A few summers, I went to day camp, where we'd take a bus to a campground area and do camp-like activities all day before going home every night. Those were run by the town and last about six weeks. But during those times I wasn't in camp, I could get on my bike with my friends and ride all over town, usually to a park where we'd hang out and look at all the graffiti carved into the forts by teenagers. We didn't know what most of it meant, but we laughed anyway.
Halloween was another fun time because I would traverse the whole town with my friends and score tons of candy. Mom stayed home to give out candy, so I was on my own. We never had any problems, except one time when some teenagers stole the bags of chips we'd gotten. It was a minor loss.
It really was a different time. Pickering (the town in Ontario where I lived from age 7 to 14) had a small town feel to it back then, when the population was around 35,000; it since has grown to 100,000 as people have moved out of Toronto to the 'burbs. The only time I was ever scared was when we were sitting on the porch with my dog and she barked at some drunk staggering by; said drunk then sauntered up to us and told her to shut up before going on his way. The dog pissed all over our front steps and I was kinda freaked out.
I read the newspapers pretty closely even as a child and was well aware of freaky shit like the Son of Sam, but it never seemed to touch my world until one time in 1980 when I was visiting one of my best friends, Charlie, who was preparing to move out west to Calgary. He was staying in Cabbagetown, a rough area of Toronto, and I stayed over for a night or two. We were out goofing around in a playground at night and saw some folks come through looking for a little 6-year-old girl named Lizzie who had disappeared earlier that day. She had last been seen in that park, walking hand in hand with a man. We hadn't seen her and I didn't think anything more of it until I got home the next day and heard on the news that she had been found murdered. Pretty shocking stuff. Nearly 32 years later, the case is still unsolved. That was the first time I really thought about the dangers of the big city. Not that those kinds of thing can't or don't happen in the 'burbs, but it really hit home after that weekend in the city.
Now I can't imagine letting my girls go to the park or walk to a friend's house that's farther away than down our street. Call me paranoid, but it's a different world. I'd rather be a little overprotective if that's what it takes to keep my kids safe. Long gone are the days of unsupervised 7-year-olds.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Completely Conspicuous 210: Live and Dangerous
Part 2 of my conversation with special guests Nick Lorenzen and Mike Piantigini as we discuss Boston's live music scene. Listen to the episode below or download it directly (right click and "save as").
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Non-Zero Possibility
Without a doubt, the biggest hubbub in the music industry the last few weeks has been the return of Van Halen with David Lee Roth. Not just to play a hits-laden, uber-lucrative tour (which they did a few years ago), but with an actual new album, VH's first with Roth since 1984.
This is where things can get dodgy for reunited bands. Sure, they can set the world on fire with a concert tour or even a few choice festival gigs, but do they still have the magic to make a great album 10 or 20 or 30 years after the last one? Some bands try it with mixed results (see The Who's Endless Wire) while others don't even bother, content to tour without tarnishing the legacy (the Pixies). Then you have a band like Mission of Burma, which has released three excellent albums since reuniting in 2002.
After months of secrecy, VH last week played a kickass (according to reviews from the lucky journos who were invited) show at the tiny Cafe Wha? in NYC. This week, the band released info on the new album A Different Kind of Truth (out February 7) and unveiled the first single and video, "Tattoo" to mixed reviews. I've only heard it a few times, but it didn't knock my socks off. Not great, but not bad, either. Kinda sounds like solo DLR, circa '91. Certainly Eddie's solo is pretty ripping.
VH has caught some heat because the song has its roots in an unreleased track the band was playing back in the mid-70s, and reportedly Eddie dug up a bunch of old riffs as the basis of the new album. While that is somewhat worrisome that the band couldn't just write new songs, ripping yourself off is certainly much less egregious than stealing somebody else's riffs. The Rolling Stones' Tattoo You album was a collection of stuff they had lying around for years, and it was one of their biggest successes. We'll just have to wait and see what the rest of the VH album sounds like.
While I'm interested to hear A Different Kind of Truth and hopefully see the band live, I was even more psyched this week to hear that screamo act At the Drive-In is reuniting after 11 years. No details have been released yet, but it is believed ATDI will play some festival dates next summer and maybe do a tour. I got into them when Relationship of Command came out in 2000, but never got to see them live before they split up a year later. I've enjoyed some of the wacked-out jammy prog-rock that Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez have churned out with the Mars Volta, but ATDI is so much better.
The reunions have been happening left and right. The original lineup of Black Sabbath is planning to record a new album and tour (although things are a bit up in the air with the sad news that Tony Iommi has lymphoma). The Afghan Whigs are reuniting for some festival shows. Guided By Voices is releasing a new album next week. Swedish punk legends Refused are playing Coachella. And on and on.
Certainly the main reason for these reunions has to be cash. A lot of these bands, like the Pixies, barely made any money when they were together the first time around, so now they have an opportunity to profit from their influential status. I can't fault them for that. Why shouldn't you get paid well for creating art? Looking at the shambolic state of the music industry, I say bands should cash in as much as they can without compromising themselves.
The guys in Van Halen probably don't need the money, but who knows? The new album may not deliver on par with Fair Warning or even Diver Down, but a new tour won't disappoint the diehard fans like me who were too young to see them back in their heyday.
This is where things can get dodgy for reunited bands. Sure, they can set the world on fire with a concert tour or even a few choice festival gigs, but do they still have the magic to make a great album 10 or 20 or 30 years after the last one? Some bands try it with mixed results (see The Who's Endless Wire) while others don't even bother, content to tour without tarnishing the legacy (the Pixies). Then you have a band like Mission of Burma, which has released three excellent albums since reuniting in 2002.
After months of secrecy, VH last week played a kickass (according to reviews from the lucky journos who were invited) show at the tiny Cafe Wha? in NYC. This week, the band released info on the new album A Different Kind of Truth (out February 7) and unveiled the first single and video, "Tattoo" to mixed reviews. I've only heard it a few times, but it didn't knock my socks off. Not great, but not bad, either. Kinda sounds like solo DLR, circa '91. Certainly Eddie's solo is pretty ripping.
VH has caught some heat because the song has its roots in an unreleased track the band was playing back in the mid-70s, and reportedly Eddie dug up a bunch of old riffs as the basis of the new album. While that is somewhat worrisome that the band couldn't just write new songs, ripping yourself off is certainly much less egregious than stealing somebody else's riffs. The Rolling Stones' Tattoo You album was a collection of stuff they had lying around for years, and it was one of their biggest successes. We'll just have to wait and see what the rest of the VH album sounds like.
While I'm interested to hear A Different Kind of Truth and hopefully see the band live, I was even more psyched this week to hear that screamo act At the Drive-In is reuniting after 11 years. No details have been released yet, but it is believed ATDI will play some festival dates next summer and maybe do a tour. I got into them when Relationship of Command came out in 2000, but never got to see them live before they split up a year later. I've enjoyed some of the wacked-out jammy prog-rock that Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez have churned out with the Mars Volta, but ATDI is so much better.
The reunions have been happening left and right. The original lineup of Black Sabbath is planning to record a new album and tour (although things are a bit up in the air with the sad news that Tony Iommi has lymphoma). The Afghan Whigs are reuniting for some festival shows. Guided By Voices is releasing a new album next week. Swedish punk legends Refused are playing Coachella. And on and on.
Certainly the main reason for these reunions has to be cash. A lot of these bands, like the Pixies, barely made any money when they were together the first time around, so now they have an opportunity to profit from their influential status. I can't fault them for that. Why shouldn't you get paid well for creating art? Looking at the shambolic state of the music industry, I say bands should cash in as much as they can without compromising themselves.
The guys in Van Halen probably don't need the money, but who knows? The new album may not deliver on par with Fair Warning or even Diver Down, but a new tour won't disappoint the diehard fans like me who were too young to see them back in their heyday.
Monday, January 09, 2012
Completely Conspicuous 209: Physical Graffiti
Part 1 of my conversation with special guests Nick Lorenzen and Mike Piantigini as we discuss the impending death of the CD. Listen to the episode below or download it directly (right click and "save as").
Thursday, January 05, 2012
Language City
This piece originally ran in Cold as Ice, the hockey column I write for Popblerd.
It’s hard out here for a pimp. It’s even harder if you’re the new coach of the Montreal Canadiens and you can’t speak French.
The Habs (aka “Les Habitants”) are the NY Yankees of hockey, with more Stanley Cup championships (24) than any other team by far (Toronto is next with 13). The franchise’s storied history is peppered with the exploits of legendary players like Rocket Richard, Bill Durnan, Boom Boom Geoffrion, Guy Lafleur, Jean Beliveau, Ken Dryden and Howie Morenz, among many others.
But the team got off to a lousy start to this season, currently eight points out of a playoff spot and only two points ahead of the last place team in the Eastern conference. Montreal fired coach Jacques Martin and replaced him with assistant coach Randy Cunneyworth on Dec. 17. The move hasn’t worked out great, as the Habs are 1-6 under Cunneyworth going into last night’s game. But that’s not the big concern in Montreal; rather, it’s the fact that Cunneyworth speaks only English in a city fiercely proud of its Francophone roots.
It’s not that he needs to speak French to communicate properly to his players. The Canadiens had a claim on pretty much all Quebec-born players in the pre-expansion era (i.e., before 1967), but now the roster is peppered with Quebecois as well as Russians, Americans, Czechs, Swiss and even a Dane. Even when players come over from Europe as rookies unable to speak a word of English, they manage to get by and pick up enough words to communicate with their teammates.
No, Cunneyworth’s crime is not being able to speak and understand the pre-eminent language of Montreal. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but there were protests outside Habs games after the announcement was made. To his credit, Cunneyworth has said he plans to learn French, but it hasn’t helped that team management has come out since the announcement and apologized for hiring a coach who isn’t bilingual and stressed that Cunneyworth is only an interim coach. Way to back up your coach, guys.
Cunneyworth certainly has the resume to be an NHL coach, having had a lengthy (800+ games) NHL career and serving as a head coach for several seasons in the minors and as an NHL assistant for the last few seasons. But in such a fiercely proud city like Montreal, he doesn’t stand a chance. The city, and the province of Quebec, has resisted the incursion of the English-speaking culture of the rest of Canada. It’s surprising that Canadiens’ management so miscalculated this coaching move, given the fact that pretty much every Montreal coach has been bilingual. Maybe they figured it wouldn’t be a big deal, but obviously, they figured wrong.
The media spotlight has been white-hot since Cunneyworth’s promotion, with speculation that former Habs great Patrick Roy may step in next season as coach. Quebec Culture Minister Christine St. Pierre proclaimed that the team needed to correct the problem in the interest of the common good. I have no doubt that Celine Dion is up in arms.
It’s a really crappy way for Cunneyworth to kick off his NHL coaching career. Although I suspect if Montreal went 7-0 after he took over, the outrage wouldn’t be quite so loud.
It’s hard out here for a pimp. It’s even harder if you’re the new coach of the Montreal Canadiens and you can’t speak French.
The Habs (aka “Les Habitants”) are the NY Yankees of hockey, with more Stanley Cup championships (24) than any other team by far (Toronto is next with 13). The franchise’s storied history is peppered with the exploits of legendary players like Rocket Richard, Bill Durnan, Boom Boom Geoffrion, Guy Lafleur, Jean Beliveau, Ken Dryden and Howie Morenz, among many others.
But the team got off to a lousy start to this season, currently eight points out of a playoff spot and only two points ahead of the last place team in the Eastern conference. Montreal fired coach Jacques Martin and replaced him with assistant coach Randy Cunneyworth on Dec. 17. The move hasn’t worked out great, as the Habs are 1-6 under Cunneyworth going into last night’s game. But that’s not the big concern in Montreal; rather, it’s the fact that Cunneyworth speaks only English in a city fiercely proud of its Francophone roots.
It’s not that he needs to speak French to communicate properly to his players. The Canadiens had a claim on pretty much all Quebec-born players in the pre-expansion era (i.e., before 1967), but now the roster is peppered with Quebecois as well as Russians, Americans, Czechs, Swiss and even a Dane. Even when players come over from Europe as rookies unable to speak a word of English, they manage to get by and pick up enough words to communicate with their teammates.
No, Cunneyworth’s crime is not being able to speak and understand the pre-eminent language of Montreal. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but there were protests outside Habs games after the announcement was made. To his credit, Cunneyworth has said he plans to learn French, but it hasn’t helped that team management has come out since the announcement and apologized for hiring a coach who isn’t bilingual and stressed that Cunneyworth is only an interim coach. Way to back up your coach, guys.
Cunneyworth certainly has the resume to be an NHL coach, having had a lengthy (800+ games) NHL career and serving as a head coach for several seasons in the minors and as an NHL assistant for the last few seasons. But in such a fiercely proud city like Montreal, he doesn’t stand a chance. The city, and the province of Quebec, has resisted the incursion of the English-speaking culture of the rest of Canada. It’s surprising that Canadiens’ management so miscalculated this coaching move, given the fact that pretty much every Montreal coach has been bilingual. Maybe they figured it wouldn’t be a big deal, but obviously, they figured wrong.
The media spotlight has been white-hot since Cunneyworth’s promotion, with speculation that former Habs great Patrick Roy may step in next season as coach. Quebec Culture Minister Christine St. Pierre proclaimed that the team needed to correct the problem in the interest of the common good. I have no doubt that Celine Dion is up in arms.
It’s a really crappy way for Cunneyworth to kick off his NHL coaching career. Although I suspect if Montreal went 7-0 after he took over, the outrage wouldn’t be quite so loud.
Sunday, January 01, 2012
Happy New Year, Dear
Man, another new year is here. Judging from the Facebook and Twitter statuses of many people, 2011 didn't go so well. I can't say it was awful for me, although having to spend the last three months rehabbing an injury was no fun. But it was great to see my daughters continue to do well in life and school and sports; in the end, that's all that matters to me. From a personal standpoint, my job changed significantly for the better and my health has been good, except that Achilles problem.
Creatively, I'm busier than I've ever been, between the podcast, this blog, my writing for Popblerd and my running column (which is currently on hiatus but hopefully returning soon). I've got plenty of other ideas and goals, but I don't know if I can squeeze anything else in right now.
As for New Year's resolutions, I tend to make the same ones every year and never follow through on them, but dammit, I'm going to try this year. First and foremost, I need to lose about 15-20 pounds. I put on 10 pounds after I stopped running in the fall, so now that I'm back on the road, I should drop those quickly. But I also plan to cut out a lot of junk in my diet and get serious about getting in kickass shape. For running goals, I'm planning to run a half-marathon in the spring, as well as do Reach the Beach MA in May, and then hopefully do a full marathon again in the fall.
Every year, I pledge to get serious about playing the guitar and never do, so I'm putting more emphasis on it this year. And of course, I want to keep improving as a husband and father, which I can and should always keep working on.
Oh, and I need to do the kung fu like this dude:
Creatively, I'm busier than I've ever been, between the podcast, this blog, my writing for Popblerd and my running column (which is currently on hiatus but hopefully returning soon). I've got plenty of other ideas and goals, but I don't know if I can squeeze anything else in right now.
As for New Year's resolutions, I tend to make the same ones every year and never follow through on them, but dammit, I'm going to try this year. First and foremost, I need to lose about 15-20 pounds. I put on 10 pounds after I stopped running in the fall, so now that I'm back on the road, I should drop those quickly. But I also plan to cut out a lot of junk in my diet and get serious about getting in kickass shape. For running goals, I'm planning to run a half-marathon in the spring, as well as do Reach the Beach MA in May, and then hopefully do a full marathon again in the fall.
Every year, I pledge to get serious about playing the guitar and never do, so I'm putting more emphasis on it this year. And of course, I want to keep improving as a husband and father, which I can and should always keep working on.
Oh, and I need to do the kung fu like this dude:
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Stuck In Thee Garage #573: March 28, 2025
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