Birthday, The "Before Picture."

I will be 16 in just under an hour. That's weird. I was so glad to be 13, then 14, then 15, and i never really took the time to savor it. Now I'm going to be 16. i'm only a "kid" for two more years, until i'm legal. I may only be living in this house for two more years. I may only be living in this city for two more years. Adulthood is fast approaching, and frankly, I'm scared. You know what would make me feel better? Presents. But seriously, though, i'm a little scared.

More later, when I'm 16.

Signing off at 15,

-Jason

Dreaming With A Broken Heart

Well, more like dreaming, and waking up with a broken heart.
But it's not really broken.
Right?
I've been single for almost two years now, and lacking the advantages possessed by those in relationships, my dreams get really weird.
Like for example, a recent weird one involved me being in a relationship with a friend of mine who I'll refer to as "Girl A." Meanwhile, I was over at another friend, "Girl B's," house, hanging out. Girl A arrives to pick me up, and as Girl B walks me to the door, she plants three or four kisses on my cheek, then motions that she wants me to kiss her on the cheek, which I do. I ask, "so does this mean we're going out or something?" She says something that made complete sense in the dream, but means absolutely nothing in the real world. She said "My dad works for Google," which in the dream meant "no, we're just fooling my dad into thinking we are." Confused? I am.
The dream jumps to another point in time, and I see a billboard with a list of phrases that Girl B says, and then what she really means (once again, perfectly normal in the dream). I see the "Google" phrase up there, with the real meaning being "I really like you." I was a little awestruck, but I saw it as a good thing. Then I woke up.
The thing is, I woke up with a crush on Girl B.
Every time I have a dream where at any point I become romantically involved with a girl, I develop a crush on that girl. It's a major problem of mine, and one that probably cannot be cured. It's happened at least six times. I was able to talk myself out of this latest crush, but it's still slightly freaking me out, the thought of this friend of mine acting so uncharacteristic.
I think it's uncharacteristic. I mean, I could totally see her doing something like that, but I could also see her being disgusted at the thought of something like that (the major flirt part, not the me part).
I'm usually pretty good with interpreting dreams, but this one has me stumped.
Help?

And now for something completely different.
Top Ten Beatles Songs That Will Make You Rethink The Beatles
1. Revolution #9
2. I Am The Walrus
3. Helter Skelter
4. Because
5. Happiness Is A Warm Gun
6. Strawberry Fields Forever
7. Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite
8. I Want You (She's So Heavy)
9. A Day In The Life
10. Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except For Me And My Monkey
Yes, they're all real Beatles songs.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. This is a concert filled year.
Elvis Costello, The Police, Allen Toussaint, B.B. King, Brett Dennen, Colbie Callait, John Mayer, and Joe Simiele.
But wait, there's more!
The Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival in Golden Gate Park features performances by Elvis Costello, Emmylou Harris, Robert Plant & Alison Krauss, Nick Lowe, Loudon Wainwright III, and MC Hammer (for reals). And it's free.
Other concerts I want to see:
Brian Wilson (for the third time)
The Fratellis
Panic At The Disco
Black Crowes
Herbie Hancock
Randy Newman
Squeeze
and whoever else gets announced.

I Love Music.

-Jason

Dreaming With A Broken Heart

Try!

I need to get out.
I really really need to get out.
I am not a wallflower. My friends that think they are wallflowers are not wallflowers.
Why do we feel this way anyway? We are so antisocial, nay, lazy, that we tend to feel ignored or unnoticed when really, we're just not making an attempt to get out there.
Where is there? Anywhere. Go see a movie. Go to the park. Play croquet. Get drunk and play spin-the-bottle. I don't care (but if you choose the last one, let me know).
My last few outings have been purely music related. I went back to the Sauasalito Cruising Club for another Monday night blues jam, and I must say that I played wonderfully. I've found I don't solo well under pressure, but recognizing most of the crowd from last time, I felt no pressure to have to wow them.
Tuesday was spent with Chris and Justin at Justin's house. We played through our set list for our upcoming webcast (late September, folks) and I played my ass off. Seriously, I don't think I've ever played better in my life. The shared energy between three people coming together to play the music they love helped create an amazing sound emanating from the garage.
It couldn't have been easier. Chris and my shared obsession over John Mayer made those songs easy to play, and our love of the blues made the slow blues songs fabulous (especially when Chris and I both played with one hand while holding our sodas in the other hand).
That's the great thing about the blues. You can improvise, and you don't have to learn a specific part.
I deeply admire and respect Eric Clapton, often to the point of worship, but when we motored through "Crossroads," I know my solo was more engaging than anything Clapton's played in the last ten years. Go on youtube and check. His playing has decreased as he's aged. He's lost that youthful energy, and not even a guitar battle with John Mayer was able to get him to kick himself in the ass and say "fucking GO!"
I think that was the first time I've said "fuck" in a blog.
No. This is the fourth, not including a quote by a friend, and the above "fuck."
I've gotten off topic from what I was saying, but wallflowers are just people who think they're wallflowers. The people at parties that stand against a wall and think "Hmph. Look at him, having a good time. God, she's so beautiful."
There is absolutely nothing preventing you from having a good time, with the possible exception of torture. But even then, you can say "Thank you sir, can I have another?"
People who think they're wallflowers just need a kick in their self-esteem's ass.
As a wise man once said,
Easy does it now,
just keep your damn mouth shut.
She thinks you're hot already,
don't go and press your luck.
No news is good news coming,
you've got to know you tried.
Don't go and blow it,
you do every single time.

That wise man was John Mayer, and the song was "Try!" Sometimes, you have to fall flat on your ass to boost your self esteem. Sometimes you've got to spend money to make money. If you realize that rejection, embarrassment, and humiliation aren't that bad, then you're more likely to be more social.
But Jason, you ask, what if I've ruined my reputation?
Simple. Get a new reputation.
If you were the most popular kid in school (like schools even have a "popular" clique these days) and you ruined your reputation by sleeping with a teacher to get the answers to a test.
Become a photographer, and claim your "abuse" is an inspiration and a recurring theme in your photography. It doesn't have to be good, but if you say that it's inspired by abuse, people will have pity on you and love you again.
Your friends might not, but you can always make new ones.

Speaking of creepy sex, Edward Cullen is the worst thing to happen to literature since Adolf Hitler's autobiography "Mein Kampf."
Oh, and Bella chooses Edward instead of Jacob.
Spoiler alert, bitch.

Bring me the heads of Kim Kardashian, Carmen Electra, Bill O'Reilly, Sean Hannity, Tyra Banks, the programmers at MTV and VH1, John McCain, Dick Cheney, and the person on that Yahoo! chatroom that said they would never vote for Barack Obama because he's "too skinny."

Seriously, people?
This is a good sign.
They can't find any fault with Barack Obama.
He's "elitist," because he prefers arugula. He's "a fool" for telling people to fill up their tires, even though every expert agrees. He's "too skinny". If he eats fast food, he's "being fake and bending to the will of the people."
Give me a fucking break (four "fucks" in one blog!). Are people really that shallow?
Unfortunately, yes. Forget killing millions of Jews. Forget genocide in Darfur.
These are the people that should be wiped out, regardless of race, appearance, gender, or religion.
John McCain was trying to discuss problems on the "Iraq-Pakistan border."
There is no Iraq-Pakistan border. There is only Iran.
Iran, and you should run too. This is a very old, very confused, likely dangerous man. This man was middle-aged when William Howard Taft was just a young statesman. This man makes C. Montgomery Burns look like a toddler. I'm exaggerating, of course, but that's still no reason to vote for him.
I've never gotten this political in a blog before. This is a blog full of firsts.

Brian Wilson's coming to the Paramount Theater to perform his new album That Lucky Old Sun in its entirety the day after my birthday. YES. He is one of my all-time heroes. Listen to Pet Sounds or Smile to fully understand his genius.

I like to think of myself as a party animal, but the last time I was at a party and was given alcohol, I was really nervous and freaked out if someone took a picture. God forbid someone should put the evidence on the internet, like, say, a blog.
I like to think of myself as a drinker, but I've only been really drunk twice.
I like to think of myself as a songwriter, but I only like three of my 592063064 songs.
I like to think of myself as a person with a flowering social life, but these days that flower seems to be wilting."

Is it all in that pretty little head of yours? What goes on in that place in the dark? Well, I used to know a girl, and I could've sworn that her name was Veronica. She used to have a carefree mind of her own, with a delicate look in her eyes. These days I'm afraid she's not even sure if her name is Veronica."
-Elvis Costello, "Veronica"

That song speaks to me. It's about Elvis Costello's grandmother, who had Alzheimer's and couldn't remember who he was. My great-aunt has dementia. Sometimes she doesn't even remember her own brother. I'd like to see her again, but my dad would prefer that our memories of her remain pleasant. I feel bad about this. I feel like I'm being sheltered from the real world. What if, in their old age, my parents develop Alzheimer's or dementia? Will I know how to deal with it, short of reading an informational pamphlet?

Sigh.

I just reread most of this post. Blogging to an audience of, like, three has been therapeutic. Like talking to a psychiatrist who doesn't say anything, but just lets me talk.
I have issues, and I need to share them with someone.
There's just so many questions I have left unanswered.
But those are a mystery for another day.

-Jason

Try!

I'm A Loser

I can't sleep.
That's a lie.
I won't sleep.
I'm insanely bored, and I don't feel like sleeping, as tired as I am. Two nights ago I stayed up until 5, and last night I was up until 3. Granted it's summer, but I should have a decent reason for doing that, like having friends sleep over, or being out late doing something cool.
Well, I'd like to say I've been out doing cool things, but that would make me a dirty liar.
Since coming home from the blues jam Monday night, I haven't left the house, with the exception of walking my dog around the block.
Naturally, this time alone has given me time to reflect on aspects of my life, namely my childhood.
I've come to the conclusion that it sucked.
I had no grand adventures. I didn't have a wondrous, astounding, family vacation. Play-dates at my house were never more than one friend at a time (we tried two friends, but that didn't work because the friends weren't friends with each other). I also came to terms with the fact that I was a bossy little bastard.
I remember locking my friend Kathryn in my room and guarding the door because she wasn't agreeing with whatever nonsense I was spouting. Another incident recalled my friend David and I repeatedly switching between a toy guitar and drums because he wasn't starting on the right beat when we were attempting to play The Beatles' "Help" when we were six years old.
I was also a bit of a loner.
I remember being content sitting on the floor of our house in the Oakland hills pretending that the fingers on my left hand were The Beatles and my thumb was Brian Epstein, their manager. I remember meandering around the playground, singing Beatles songs to myself. I remember sitting alone, reading a book, instead of playing with my friends. Even worse, I remember choosing not to sit with my friends during lunch in first grade, choosing instead to sit with a kid named Tyler and his mom, Susie. I don't know why she was always eating lunch with him, but I remember it being nice that I had a sort of mother figure at school.
But would I do it all again?
Yes.
I would gladly go back to the days where Brian, Kevin, and I would play "Starship Troopers" on the playground at Sunday School. I would absolutely revisit the day when I went to David Hernandez's birthday party where no one could break the pinata, so David's dad climbed up on the roof and threw the candy off the roof. A large piece hit me in the head, causing me to burst into tears.
I'd definitely go back to third grade, when I met and became inseparable from Charlie. I'd go back to fourth grade, when Charlie and I became separable, and I met Tony, Blake, and Tameem.
I'd love to go back to fifth grade, when Tameem convinced me that Airwalk shoes allowed you to walk on air, and we won the free class trip to the San Francisco Zoo.
I'd revisit sixth grade, when childhood quickly faded, and my lunchtimes were spent with Tony reciting countless Family Guy episodes to me (I wouldn't actually see the show for another two years).
After that, things changed. I started liking girls. I started becoming less bossy. I became more popular, to the point where by eighth grade, the whole school knew my name. I started playing Truth or Dare and Spin the Bottle (a story for another day).
Then I moved, and my ego was shattered when I realized that popularity doesn't move with you, and that my attitude, while echoing proud in Castro Valley, just made me sound like a jackass in Alameda. My sucky-great childhood was lost forever, causing me to fix the holes in my ego with duct tape.

Here you see (or, rather, read) the portrait of a broken man. A man who had everything. Looks, fame, friends, and love.
But then the fame left, followed by the love and the looks, and soon his friends were replaced with people who use him as comic relief, rather than a point at which they would converge to watch movies or hang out.

And that's why people say I sound like an asshole.

-Jason

I'm A Loser

Everyday I Have The Blues

I'm pretty pumped.
It's ironic that the title evokes sad images.
It should be "Every Monday I Have The Blues."
I just got back from the Monday night blues jam down at the Sausalito Cruising Club.
It's great. For $10, you get a pasta buffet, and (time permitting) a chance to play whatever instrument you play (in my case, guitar).
I had my Les Paul and a couple songs up my sleeve, and when my dad and I were called up, I "freed the beast," so to speak.
My dad lead us through Robert Johnson's "Walkin' Blues," which I soloed on. I felt it was a mediocre solo, but I played it, and people seemed to enjoy it. It seemed at first that the crowd mostly enjoyed seeing a fifteen year old (the youngest person there) on stage playing the blues.
Next song was "Out Of My Mind," the slow blues by the John Mayer Trio. I'm pretty proud that I was able to slip in a JM tune without anyone noticing. As soon as I started singing, the room got a little quieter. I guess they weren't expecting me to have a good voice. I soloed like a pro and sang my heart out.
Next song was "Crossroads." We did it more like Cream did it, as opposed to the original Robert Johnson recording, "Cross Road Blues."
Holy crap. I didn't know I could sing like that. It was a thrill to be able to sing that song with a full band (two guitars, bass, drums, keys).
Next we did a few blues with other singers. We closed our set with me singing the Chuck Berry classic, "Johnny B. Goode."
A couple years ago, I would play this in record key, which is C. Since then, my voice has dropped, but I didn't think to change the key, as I hadn't had a problem last time I sang it.
Bad idea.
Fortunately for me, the volume on the mic was turned way down, so they couldn't hear me.
*Phew.*
It was a great night, and I played my ass off.

I really don't mean to sound cocky and full of myself, but I'm just so pumped that I can't help but feel special.
I also feel kinda bad posting this here, because it's different from my other blogs. It's not philosophical, it's not a rant, it's not emotionally charged. It's a play-by-play of my evening.
But I had such a great time, I wanted to share it with you all.
All three or four readers (so far.)

Anyway, I intend to be back there some upcoming Monday. If you'd like to join me, lemme know.
Lemme? Really?
Let me know.

-Jason

Everyday I Have The Blues

Don't Stop Me Now

Things are going well since my last post, which was yesterday. Looking at the time, it was technically two days ago, but whatever.
I did an assessment of my recent experiences.
July 6 - I went to see New Orleans music legend Allen Toussaint.
July 9 - I went to see blues legend B.B. King.
July 16 - I'm going to see both Elvis Costello and The Police. I've re-psyched myself.
July 17 - I'm going to see my old music teacher (and local legend) Joe Simiele perform.
July 26 - I'm going to see John Mayer, and I'm taking three of my best friends.
In between, I've hung out with friends, I'm going to do some songwriting with Emily, and I've got three days left of summer school, which is about to free up my time.
What's more, I've got a legitimate band. Our name is pronounced "fo sho," but we're unsure of how we're gonna spell it. Either "Faux Chaud," which is real French, or "Faux Shaux," which is fake French.
I'm lead guitar and vocals, Justin "White Chocolate" Kent is vocals/drums, and Chris "No Current Nickname" Arellano is bass.
It's blues-rock. Modeled after the John Mayer Trio (big surprise there.), but we throw in some surprises. A little Traffic, a little Black Crowes, a little Panic At The Disco, a little everything.
Things are looking up. I'm on a roll.
In closing, let me present a video.



-Jason

Good Love Is On The Way

John Mayer sums it up best.
Good to go for whenever I'm needed
Bags are packed and I'm down by the door
Those lines are from the John Mayer Trio song "Good Love Is On The Way." The song discusses how the narrator took some time off from relationships after being dumped three years ago, but is now ready to love again, and is kinda desperate.
I can relate.
I've been single for 620 days, or about 20 months (Don't call me weird, I found a count-up clock on the internet). This past year and eight months has given me a lot of time to reflect on my relationship life (or lack thereof).
I know why Rachel and I broke up. Living in different cities, we couldn't see each other as often as we liked when the school year kicked into high gear. It was great while it lasted, and I have no regrets, other than not asking her out earlier than I did.
Since then, I've been the prime example of how not to attempt to start a relationship. I've come on too strong, too soon, too subtle, and I've waited too long. I've done everything wrong, and I've recognized that, and I can't fix it. This is causing my self-confidence to decrease slowly every day.
It's strange. I can walk through a stage door at a David Crosby concert and make conversation as if I hadn't sneaked backstage. I can approach Wavy Gravy at a restaurant, having recognized him without his clown makeup. I can perform Adam Sandler's "Hannukah Song" in front of 1,200 of me peers without cracking under the pressure. I can do all of these types of things, but I can't bring myself to face possible rejection.
I often find myself criticizing other people's relationships. "They're just like three-year-olds!" "He's such a terrible boyfriend; he never compliments her!" "This will never last."
Mostly, these comments are out of jealousy. I probably liked the girl in the relationship, and then found faults in their relationship so I could claim beyond a reasonable doubt that I would obviously be a better boyfriend, and that she should obviously be with me.
I say these things for me. I need reassurance that I'm a good guy, and I don't get it from anyone else.
When typing that last sentence, I thought "Why doesn't anyone reassure me? Am I a terrible person?" I don't think I'm a terrible person. Whenever I get these thoughts, I open my yearbook and read my favorite testimonial, which I will type up here:

Jason, Jason, Jason... I've known you for about 2 years now? I think I can honestly say you're one of the most interesting people I've ever met. :-) Haha but really, in a good way. You always are there to make situations more fun and never hesitate to break an awkward silence. You are freakin' *RAW* at guitar & you don't brag about it. :-) You're also an amazing actor. I've had so much fun being in West Side Story, Beauty & The Beast, & Fiddler On The Roof with you. We've been brother & sister, semi-enemies (ahh I forgot High School Musical!...ahaha), & we've both fawned over the same guy (not like that, I'm talking about Gaston...ahaha Phil). It's such a blast to work with you & be around you. One of the great things about you is that you take different routes than other people (ahaha "The Road Not Taken"), not on purpose, but because you do what you want to do, not what everyone else does or what other people want you to do. I'm really glad I'm friends with you. You're really a great guy; you're very considerate of how other people feel. You always know how to make me laugh until I can hardly breathe & am basically falling on the ground. You always come out of bad situations with a smile. Really, I don't think I know anyone that can handle drama/trouble/everything the world can thrown at you, better than you. With that said, you have to deal with way more than you deserve. With all your talents & your *sparkly* personality, I know you have a bright future & I hope we'll still be friends so I can see you become the wonderful man you will be. Don't let anyone ever convince you that you are something you're not because you really are a great person. I hope you'll look back on these years and think of me as fondly [cheesy old person word] as I will think of you. :-) I love all the great times we've had. "Have you seen old people?" Bason Jerk, you are a great Jew and a great friend. :-) & I will always remember your PB&J's on challah. Thanks for putting up with me all this time.

Kristin wrote that, and it's one of the sincerest compliments I've ever received. I've read and re-read it over and over, amazed that someone regards me that highly.
When I was writing in her yearbook, I hadn't seen her message yet, and I couldn't put into words how much I'm constantly blown away by her talent and personality, and how I love her [as a friend]. I couldn't verbalize it, until I read what she wrote. I feel the exact same way, except for the Jewish part and the guitar part. She's a beast at piano.
Anyway, I'm rambling on about her rambling.

New subject?
Sure.
Whenever I'm preparing for a concert, I listen almost exclusively to that artist. I did it for Paul McCartney, Simon & Garfunkel, Steely Dan, Aerosmith, and The Police. For this upcoming concert, Elvis Costello & The Imposters and The Police, I listened to six different Elvis Costello albums to familiarize myself with his brilliant work, and I got really excited, even more so than for The Police, as I've seen them before and know what to expect.
Then we got the John Mayer tickets.
I'm not gonna lie. He's my all-time ultimate hero. He's one of the most influential musicians I've ever heard. Don't believe me? Listen to "Room For Squares." He's also one of the greatest guitarists I've ever heard. Listen to "Try! John Mayer Trio Live in Concert." I basically love him and everything about him. I got his new live album "Where The Light Is" and that got me re-hooked. I am currently on a John Mayer binge, which is a bit of a problem. The Elvis Costello/Police concert is in two days, and John Mayer's not for another week and a half. I psyched myself for EC/The Police too early (February) and, with the help of John Mayer, kind of un-psyched myself. Don't get me wrong, I think Elvis Costello's a brilliant songwriter and Sting's a great singer, but I'm more looking forward to John Mayer.
Perhaps it's because I'm going to the JM concert with Chris and Emily and Gina, whereas I'm going to the Police with my family, or perhaps it's because we have lawn seats for the Police and real seats for JM, or just for no reason at all, but I'm super-duper-incredibly-bad-writing-made-up-words excited for John Mayer. I <3 style="font-style: italic;">Scrubs
But seriously folks.

-Jason

Good Love Is On The Way