Flying Cars, Online Communities, and Random Rock

The year 2010 is here and people complain about the lack of flying cars and how much everything has looked the same for the past twenty years or so.  According to the Blade Runner movie we have nine years to go before flying cars hit the scene.  I think that flying cars would be a bad idea considering that cars that are firmly planted on the ground take out a considerable number of humans on a daily basis (not to mention dogs, cats, squirrels and various other woodland creatures). 

Someone recently asked me what my New Year’s resolution was.  I usually just recycle the same one over and over, which is “do something new”, but this year I decided to settle on “less talk and more walk”. 

A friend enquired about my romantic life and I hesitated to respond.  “I’m happy with the way it is for now and I don’t want to jinx it…so I don’t want to talk about it.”  This is an odd response for me because usually I would be eager to talk about it…but not this time.

There was a long bit of silence then, “Are you turning gay?”  I laughed, “No”.

The friend then goes into how the web has changed his love life for the better.  He talked about how he had more women than he could ever dream of before because of  “online access to dozens of lonely women”. 

As much as I love to be online and as much as I love technology, I have never met any kind of women online that I have interacted with in person.  I guess because it hasn’t been necessary.  If anything, online social networks have been a thorn in the side of my relationships for the past ten years.

How so? 


One night I was working late at club as a DJ.  It was a long night and there seemed to be more drunken Sugar-Kittens than usual.  This particular night, I had sex with my girlfriend before going to work.  Having really good sex with your woman before having to go to a job that has dozens of drunken women pawing on you makes it easy to be faithful and fend off sex fiends.

At the end of the night, I felt good about being good.  I couldn’t wait to get paid and go home to my woman.  I felt like my reward for being good was to see my woman’s smiling face and how happy she would be to see me coming home from work.

I got home from the DJ gig (I lived with this girlfriend) and my girlfriend was sitting on the couch with a long face with her laptop.  I was happy to see her and in an instant she crushed the vibe by darting me a sour look.  I frowned my eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”

“You think my boobs are too small?”


“My boobs.  Are they too small?”

All I could think to myself was, “Oh, man.  Not tonight.  I was in such a good mood and…”

“Do you?  You think they’re too small?”

Titties are a great topic for discussion if you’re in a locker room or hanging with your brothers, but in a relationship it’s just a fight lure every time.

“Your tits are fine.”

She frowned, “Just fine?  You wish they were bigger, don’t you?”

I throw my hands up, “Where is this coming from?”

“Your girlfriend before me had big boobs…and the girl before her had big boobs and…”


While I was at work thinking about her all night, my girlfriend was at home going through the online galleries of my ex-girlfriends and came to the conclusion that I like women with large breasts.

I told her that I dated flat-chested women all of the time (which of course was the wrong thing to say).  She quickly shifted from insecurities about her breast size to insecurities about not being pretty enough.  All of this drama started from online social networks.

I know that this behavior is more of a testament to the insecure women that I dated, but they wouldn’t have access to photos of my exes any other way.  I face my palms to the ceiling and say, “If any of those girls were so great, wouldn’t I be with them instead of here with you?”

On December 29, 2009, I get a call from guitarist Danny Chavis and he tells me to come sit in for a couple of songs with his band Apollo Heights at the Knitting Factory in Brooklyn.   I tell him that I don’t really know the songs and my gear is locked away, but he talks me into coming out anyway.  He assures me that there is a kit and cymbals to use once I get there.

I met Danny and his twin brother Daniel (yeah, you read that right) through another Rock band that I play with called The Band-Droidz. 

When I arrive at the Knitting Factory, they had a house kit, but there were no cymbals.  Danny had arranged for me to use the cymbals from the headliner’s drummer, but the headliner cancelled. 

Below is a clip of me playing a song with the band without cymbals for the kit besides Hi-hats.

Long story short, I ended up doing the whole set with the band and then later joined the band as the new drummer.  Not knowing the songs was not the hard part of the gig.   The hard part of the gig was that the huge monitor by the drums didn’t work (or maybe more accurately the sound engineer didn’t know how to turn it on).  Doing live drumming to a drum loop is difficult enough, but when you can’t even hear the loop it’s a gig nightmare.  At any rate, “more walk and less talk” would surely apply to me doing more music in 2010 as my life story comes to an end.

Later and don’t be a hater



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