I got a job on January 20th 2009. I didn’t like it almost immediately but it was a job and it was paying my bills. I was now working at an independent pharmacy and I was just performing menial tasks and getting paid a menial wage. Never in a million years did I think that I would ever work in a pharmacy. It wasn’t all bad. It was steady and I really didn’t mind it. I mean I hated it, but I didn’t mind it. After all it was paying my bills. I even worked  way up to doing less menial tasks that were, dare I say it, fun. After about 6 months it was brought to my attention that in order to keep the job, I must take the Pharmacy Technician Certification test and become a Pharmacy Technician. So I did. I studied for a couple of months and took the test. Right around the time I was preparing for this test, I was asked if I would be interested in being trained on a machine that the pharmacy was purchasing. Machines are cool, right? At any rate, I said yes and was sent on my first business trip ever to Chicago with my boss to train at the developer’s facility. It was a really good time and will be one of the fond memories I will carry with me for many years to come I’m sure.

So, it is late October, 2009 and I have certifications in both pharmacy and FastPak Exp. You can be sure that this came with a somewhat hansom raise. Now the job didn’t seem so bad. Very shortly after all of that happened, I was approached by the head of the customer service department and asked to be part of the team that answered phones and typed prescriptions. This was by far the most prestigious job in the place but did I really want to leave my position that I went to Chicago to train for? Well, there were hardly any patients using that package type and it didn’t seem like there were going to be any anytime soon, so I took it. Not to mention it came with yet another raise. This was in early January 2010. In under a year I went from the bottom to the top. It felt really good to accomplish something like that. However, there was an underlying hatred for the job that I couldn’t quite figure out.

6 months passed and I was doing ok at the CSR gig. I even got to travel some to Houston to visit the facilities that I was overseeing. The bad part was that I was never really trained properly and so I constantly felt like I was drowning. In that 6 months, the machine that I was trained to run exploded with patients that wanted to use the system. I spoke with the guy that took it over for me and he was actually wanting to go to customer service. I spoke with my boss about him and I switching out and it happened. Now I was doing something I knew how to do and I was a lot happier. That happiness lasted for about 2 months.

I was sure that it was just the job I hated so I started looking for a new one. After all, this job was just one I took to pay my bills. It was never meant to be long term. I spent the next several (9 or so) months looking for jobs and I even interviewed for a couple, but nothing seemed like it would be any better. I finally realized through several conversations with friends, and mostly my brother-in-law, that it was not the job but the time spent at the job that I hated. I just couldn’t help but think that it didn’t have to be this way and that it could be so much better. So, I started planning and having conversations with my wife about what we could do. In the end we came up with a really good option. She purchased a business (I don’t really understand that side of things but that’s how I describe it) and I would start teaching drum lessons. This was a great idea but scared the life out of me.

Well, I did it. I quit the job that I worked at for 2 and a half years and am now attempting to teach drums full time. I have a couple of other irons in the fire but that’s a story for another time. I’m still scared to death but if ever there was a time to take a chance and do something on my own it’s now.

Now you know. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, it should be noted that this is the short version of the story. Ask me sometime and I’ll tell you more about the whole thing.

Also, if you know anyone who wants drum lessons, let me know.

Gregroy

I was over at a friend’s house watching the Grammy’s.  He had graciously made steaks and such and I was enjoying them thoroughly.  I already had problems with my “6 year” molars on both sides on my lower jaw.  Neither had given me any pain until I was munching away at the delicious steak.  I believe this to be the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.  It started hurting pretty bad but I, like the fool I have been up until now, took some ibuprofen and went to bed.  On the way to work the next day it was hurting really bad.  I called my wife and told her it was “finally time.”  She did all she could but we couldn’t get an appointment until Tuesday at 3.  So Monday and Tuesday I lived in pain.  It was manageable half the time.  The other half was debilitating.  All I could do during these times was put my head in my hands and do everything I could to hold back tears (I was at work after all).  It was really bad.  Then the glorious time came.

I drove home and met my wife.  She drove me to the dentist’s office and helped me with all the paper work and crap.  If it weren’t for her, I couldn’t have done it.  When the Dr. came in to see me, I had no pain.  It was the only time in the past three days where that happened (including when I took some prescription pain meds).  She told me all the things that I need to get fixed in my mouth but that it was the one that was hurting that needed attention today.  I agreed with my whole heart.  She said that there wasn’t enough of the hurting tooth to save it and that I should do something with the mirroring tooth because it was a ticking time bomb.  I said “that is fine lets just get it the hell out of there.”  She told me that my wisdom teeth on the bottom also needed to come out, as well as a bunch of other things I needed done.  I told her we would cross that bridge when we got to it.  She and her staff went about getting an appointment for me at the oral surgeon down the road.  It was comforting to know that this surgeon was my dentist’s dentist.  She came back in and told us that the surgeon had an opening but we needed to leave immediately.  So we did.  The 10 minute drive to the other office was the worst pain that I experienced in the whole debacle.  It was so bad that I almost threw up (I didn’t tell my wife that).

We got to the second dentist’s office and I sat down in the waiting room with my head in my hands like a worthless piece of poo.  My wife, again, took care of everything.  I couldn’t have done it without her; she is the best.  After what seemed like an eternity (maybe 5 minutes), they called my name.  They brought me to room #6 and it wasn’t long before I was leaving again to get an x-ray.  They were fast and I liked that because my pain level was still spiked really high.  I sat in the chair the same time the dentist came in.  He introduced himself and told me my options.  ”I could just do the one that is hurting, the two that need to be done, or we could do all 6″  he said.  By 6 he meant the two that needed to be done and all four of my wisdom teeth.  I was told by my other dentist that my top wisdom teeth could stay and that nothing was wrong with them so this came as a surprise.  My only concern about the wisdom teeth was recovery time.  I couldn’t miss that much work right now and would have to schedule that later.  I told him that we would just take out the two that needed it right now and we would do wisdom teeth later.  To follow this up I asked with a chuckle, “What do you have in the way of sedation?”  He chuckled back and told me about a method they have that will totally bring me under but I would still respond to him.  He added that I wouldn’t remember a thing and added “Who wants to remember something like this?”  I thought this was kinda crazy that I  but, already having an aversion to the dentist, I told him to do it.  After all it was what I wanted anyway.  I signed the paper for the anesthetic and he went and got ready.  While he was getting ready I started to get nervous.  It finally settled in that I was about to receive dental surgery.  He and the assistant came back in the room and started hooking me up to a bunch of stuff.  One of the things was a heart monitor.  My heart rate raised and lowered as new things kept appearing in the room.  The dentist tied a rubber hose around my arm and all I could think of was that he was going to shoot me up with drugs until I was totally gone and harvest my organs.  But that didn’t happen.  He sprayed some really cold stuff on my hand and I elected not to look at what he was doing.  ”Open and close your fist.”  he said.  Then he added “Okay, hold a fist for me.”  Not wanting to screw up on the instructions he gave, I held the tightest fist that I could muster.  He began to ask me questions.  ”How long have you been married?”  ”3 years.”  I answered him trying to give the quickest answer.  He asked me where I lived.  I told him.  Then he asked me a comfortable question, “What do you do for a living?”  Being in the health care profession and being able to talk with a Dr. about medicine is fun.   I feel like I’m in their club.  ”I am a pharmacy technician.”  I said proudly.  ”Oh yeah?  Where is your pharmacy?”  he asked.  I answered.  I wanted to keep talking about it in the hopes that we would speak about drugs and stuff.  But that was it.  I felt no needle.  I saw only blackness.  I remember flashes of what was happening.  It was very much like in the movies when Wolverine is having  flashbacks about what happened to his bones but cannot figure out what is going on.  Flashes of people in my mouth.  Working on something.  Then more blackness.

My wife says it was about 25 to 30 minutes from the time they started sedation to the time I was awake again.  She walked in the room and looked into my face.  I remained with a blank stare, eyes darting lazily too and fro.  She smiled at me but I did not respond.  She didn’t like that.  She told me it was scary.  She walked behind me to my right to talk to the assistant which is when I woke.  The first thing I remember was looking at a large window with the blinds shut.  I was alone, save for two voices behind me to my right.  I sat there and collected myself.  My mouth was completely numb but I could feel the pieces of gauze on each missing tooth.  I felt no pain and this made me smile.  My wife came back in front of my face and I smiled.  ”There you are,”  she said.  I got up from the chair and walked to the car.

I slept all night t and had no pain the next day.

Even as I type these words I feel like it is a feeble and feigned attempt at getting back into the swing of things.  Ebb and flow I guess.

I have a friend who is pursuing education in writing that recently asked me for a new post.  This is for him, as uninspired as it is.  (To prove my “un-inspiration,” it has been several weeks since he asked me for new content and I am only getting around to it now.)

During the ebb in posting I have become a reader.  There is a lot to be said for what can be found in books.  In the movie “A Knights Tale”  there is an overarching theme of the changing of ones stars.  Reading has been a huge contributer in this change.  It was the words of Derek Zoolander that said “Words can only hurt you if you read them.”  I have chosen to let them hurt me.

I believe that this is possible for anyone.  I have changed quite a bit about myself.  Not being lazy namely.  I lost 30 lbs by just eating differently.  I have gained an advocacy for anti-obesity.  I have changed the way I interact with people.  I love trying new foods.  I listen to different music.  I have decided to choose learning, writing, and reading over playing video games and remaining the same.  I have become something entirely different from the me of my early 20′s.

This is not to say that I do not play video games anymore.  I still do, I just enjoy them differently.  Video games are different than they used to be.  Wild stories that you can get totally wrapped up in because you control them.  One game in particular is Red Dead Redemption.  It is a western.  Riding horses, shooting bad guys, dueling.  It is wonderful.  But what really gets me going about it is the story.  It is somewhat typical in its infantile stages but unfolds into something much more broad than pursue the enemy and kill him.  The ending is a total trip.  It answers the question of what happens when the bad guy is dead and life returns to “normal.”  If you aren’t a gamer, you can read about it here.

I am currently reading Johnny Cash’s autobiography “Cash.”  If you are even vaguely interested in music, this is a great book.  He is just a simple story teller and thus it is not a tough read.  He knew everyone.  You don’t have to be into country music to enjoy this book.  If you are into the history of music you can’t afford not to read it.

Well, I think thats all for now.

The reason for this mornings letter is to tell you that there is no way you were actually that mad at that man on his bicycle.  Instead, you need to realize that there is probably a deeper seeded problem in your life.  Either that or you simply need to be more patient.  If that man on bike was a car you wouldn’t have given it a second thought.  Or, maybe you would in which case you need to prepare for your first of a series of stress related heart attacks. 

As the light turned green and you squealed your tires west on plano parkway, I noticed that you had a tail light out.  I sure hope that no police notice and pull you over making you even more late than the “rude” cyclist you will inevitably tell your co-workers about around the water cooler today. 

Greg

All of that is to say that something huge happened in my life.  Yesterday I crossed over into the realm of people who drive vehicles with over 100,000 miles under their belts.  This put the above thoughts into a new perspective.  I bought my truck used and it had probably 50,000ish miles on it.  The thought that is plaguing me is where were all of those miles?  Who rode them?  What were the conversations, sights, emotions?  At any rate, I am excited to hit such a milestone and hope for 100,000 miles more!

I have always been a fan of the Toy Story movies.  I think that the first 2 films were stellar.  In fact the first one was instantly in my top 10  when I saw it.  I have to admit that when I heard that they were making a second that I was skeptical.  So, you can imagine that when I heard that they were making a third I was almost scared.  If they tarnished the gleaming reputation of the Toy Story name, I would possibly lose all faith in Disney (but I don’t think its possible to lose faith in Pixar).

In my book there are few movies that have made it to the third that remain good.  Back to the Future, Austin Powers, Lethal Weapon, and a few more, but in the case of Toy Story 3 it will go down in the annals of history as possibly the best third movie of a series to date!  I loved it.  The story was incredible and my wife and I literally spend the last ten minutes of the film choked up and teary-eyed.  I won’t go into detail about the story or what the movie was like, because I won’t do it justice.  I will only say this:  if you are reading this post and you have yet to see the film, go now.  It will change your life.  If you have seen it, leave me a though or two that you had about it.

Peace.

p.s.  I didn’t see this movie in 3d.  I know, I know but if it was any better, my head would explode or I would change into a girl or something.

First and foremost, it is as simple as the name. It is a source for bands. That’s it. If you are a musician, this is for you. If you are not cut from the musical cloth, fear not. There are plenty of other places to get your social network on. But I digress.

Just say you are a very talented and good looking drummer. Naturally, you are going to want to get gigs. “Maybe I’ll give this Band Source thing a try.” You say skeptically. Let’s also say that a band in Dallas just lost their drummer in a freak accident and are also using Band Source to find one. “Holy crap” you exclaim aloud. “I live in Dallas and I need a band!” You exchange a few messages and find out that they are a Flock of Seagulls cover band. Your excitement grows. Your mom won’t think that hair cut is so silly now! Based solely on a picture of your hair, they hire you. Now you have a band. What do bands do? They gig. But you can’t have a giging band that has no place to play.

You’ve put your set list together and have even worked on your stage moves. Now you need a venue, but look no further than the very place you found the band. Venues can also sign up and have profiles on Band Source. Just like I said before, it is a source for bands. The same goes for studios, photographers, stylists, or even a manager. It can all be found right here.

So, get your hairspray ready, tune up your guitar, and quit the pizza delivery job. We have made it easy to get a band together, find a place to play, and get the show on the road.

Play on.

(www.band-source.com)

This is on the door to our patio and I really liked the way it looked all close up.  It is probably nowhere as cool as I think it is.

-Greg

They stood next to the boardwalk, their faces draped in sadness.  The moon shone bright giving the sand a white shimmering quality. Her face flashed bright.  As quickly as the light came it vanished leaving nothing but the glowing ember of a lit cigarette; she took a drag.  He tried to talk but he hated the words he needed to say.  She faced the opposite direction completely motionless.  Her only sign of life was the smoke being carried away by the wind as she exhaled.

“Well?” she inquired.  He hung his head suppressing his thoughts.  He didn’t want it to be over but it was time.

“I’m not sure.” he lied  ”I don’t really know what to say.”

“Start at the beginning” she said coldly still facing the opposite direction.  She didn’t want to be cold to him, but she wanted him to admit his wrongdoing and then they would make up and everything would go back to normal.

“I guess I don’t know where that is.” he said as she flicked the ash off of her cigarette.  She remained silent, her cigarette now half gone.  He reached for her, hesitated, stopped, and remained silent.  She folded her arms across her chest and continued smoking.

“I guess it’s over” he said, the words cutting him like a knife.  He wanted so much to take the words back.  She stiffened as he made his statement, still refusing to look at him.  She didn’t want it to be over either but her anger took over and she couldn’t overcome it.  They remained silent for some time.  She took the last drag of her cigarette and turned to face him but he was gone.  The still lit butt fell to the ground as she began to cry.  It was really over.

Friday.  Here I am in my cubicle.  

The word cubicle makes me feel inhuman, like a caged animal.  Let alone that I have to sit in one for an average of 40 hours a week.  To some, it would mean that they have arrived.  They have achieved high status in the working world.  Most people are of the ilk that this is as good as it gets.  Guess what?  It can be so much better.   Maybe I am living in a dream world.  Maybe I am a radical thinker.  However, it is only as good as you make it.  If you make it as good as a cubicle with a computer and a desk fan, good on you, but its not good enough for me.

Saturday.  Here I am on my porch.  

It is a breezy 70 something degrees.  I am sitting here in comfortable clothing, sipping coffee, writing music and writing (not all at the same time).  I am well rested.  I am of sound mind.  I am happy.  This is the life that I am going for.  Making a living from home.  I know it is way easier said than done, but I am working on it (hence the music and writing).  The only thing that is wrong today  is that my wife is in africa.  If she were here, things would be even better.

Whammy!