Me Thinks Too Much

Lately I have been trying to avoid numbing my mind with music and television. This involves proactively forcing myself to pensively reflect on life. However, the more I reflect, the more I utterly flabbergast myself. I don't delve emotionally; rather I explore metaphysically.

I've always been curious about things and how they work. I've been known to dismantle items just for research's sake. For example, I bought a brand new bicycle a couple of weeks ago. I sweet-talked my way into helping assemble it. A couple of days later I decided to take the crank arms off just because I haven't done that in a couple of years. Nothing was wrong with the bike; I was just intrigued.

My curiosity leads me to ask questions that would elicit a look of "what drugs are you on?" should I verbalize them. This statement is not entirely speculative; I have actually witnessed this. One day, bored at a soccer tournament between games, I struck up a conversation about how humans see. Then I wondered aloud what it would be like if the "visible" spectrum to us were more than, or different altogether from, the colors of the rainbow. What if we could see radio waves, x-rays, gamma rays, etc.? Or what if there was a disease that altered the visible spectrum for some people? Given the imperfect nature of cell production I find it difficult to believe that every human ever made had a precisely defined range of visible spectrum. Some people must have been able to see some infrared. Likewise, others must have been able to see ultraviolet.

More recently I've become mentally obsessed with subatomic particles: electrons, protons, and neutrons. They all have a mass and they all comprise everything we know. Yet we can see through some (the oxygen and nitrogen in the atmosphere, glass) and not see through others (trees, rocks, people, etc.). What gives? Is it that we're not actually seeing through them as it is the light waves are able to maintain their integrity through the molecules by fortuitous refractions? How can that be the case if the electrons are constantly in random motion, orbiting their nucleus?

Before I can gain too much ground resolving the subatomic particles conundrum, I turn my attention to wind: what exactly is wind? Everyone knows what wind is and could describe a windy day but, really, what the fuck is it? How is it created? Yeah, yeah, high pressure to low pressure causes wind. But what causes a pressure differential? One would think that after a while all the pressure differentials would equilibrate and there would be a state of calmness everywhere. I suppose that means pressure differentials are created by surface or subsurface forces. Still, wouldn't those equilibrate eventually?

I'm noticing something similar between the last two topics. Both involve extreme scales of measure. I guess I should explore what my deal is with scales. That shouldn't take too long.

Doug On Wheels Tour 2009

Ok. Since I have become obsessed with researching touring equipment and routes to take for this summer's Doug On Wheels Tour 2009 (still working on cool name for that) I thought I'd waste some more time providing another blog update with my thoughts.

When I first retired from corporate life I had a desire to do some bicycle touring. I didn't give it much thought; it was just an itch. After a couple of months those thoughts followed in my footsteps and retired themselves. However, unlike me, they are unretiring.

A couple of weeks ago I started giving consideration to what I wanted to do after I finished my prereqs before med school began in July. It wasn't long until I decided to push the start of med school to November. That gives me a full summer in paradise without any regret and a couple of months to fill with something. What would be that something?

Two days ago, and I don't fully understand what happened, I latched onto the idea of bike touring. My dedication to this idea is so great that for the first time in my life I am planning the next several months of my life, replete with milestones and stuff. I'm not quite done planning yet but here is a list of cities I would like to see along the tour:

Madison, Wisconsin
Davenport, Iowa
Chicago, Illinois
Lake Pleasant, Indiana
Toledo, Ohio
Eastlake, Ohio
Dayton, Indiana

With the exception of the bookends, all those cities are pretty much linear. I haven't analyzed how long hitting all those cities will take yet. I just learned today I should plan to spend an average of $30/day to bike tour so fiscal reasons may be the barrier to a successful and complete tour. Timing will play a factor too. The two Indiana cities are attractive only if the calendar is right. (Not if and only if. Just only if. Aw, great, now the word "only" isn't looking like a normal word to me. I'm sober, I swear.)

I think part of the obsession can be explained by redirecting my resentment for the worst teacher and teaching style I have ever had in any subject EVER into something healthy. Most of the people reading this know my academic chops: GATE, Honors, AP through high school. Top 15% of my class at the Air Force Academy. 3.9 in a Top 10 engineering graduate program. Authored a Sudoku solver for fun. GRE scores high enough to qualify for MENSA. Acing a class whose prerequisite is this class. But yet I'm struggling with a high C/low B? I am reminded of a tee shirt I saw the other day, "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?!"

Before too much bad boils I comfort myself with a quote from the best movie about a convict-hijacked convict-airplane, Con Air: "means to an end, my brother. Means to an end."

I Trudge No More - California Jam 2009

I have been jaded by chiropractors in the past. I have sought them as a solution to my chronic low back pain for 15 years. After almost giving up on them as a whole I was referred to someone who has changed my life...in more than one way.

Most of my chiropractors have given me immediate relief but it was never long lived. None of them have convinced me of chiropractic success until I was introduced to my current chiropractor, Dr. Marc Gottleib (http://www.lifewithincenter.com/).

He convinced me to undergo a long-term treatment plan. I have never given that proper consideration before because I thought any healing should be able to be accomplished in a week or two, like a prescription drug. Why would any right-minded American think otherwise?

I've since learned the answer is simple: the treatment needs long-term care because it took a long-term course of mistreatment of the body to surface a symptom. Before fully realizing this conclusion, Dr. Marc planted a seed: why don't I become a chiropractor? I chuckled. Yeah, why don't I also figure out perpetual motion while I'm at it? I was as skeptical at that as I was at chiropractic care before I met him. But I figured since he changed my view of chiropractic as a viable healing option the least I could do was to ponder becoming a chiropractor. Being open to alternative ideas, I started to give it due consideration. And I started to warm to the idea. Then he did something innocuous yet profound...he invited me to a conference of chiropractors called California Jam sponsored by an organization called The Dead Chiropractic Society.

The Dead Chiropractic Society is spearheaded by Dr. Billy D (chiropractors tend to use just first names in the "Dr." title) and their emblem is in the font of AD/DC: DC/S (http://www.deadchiropracticsociety.com/). Their goal is to highlight the virtues of chiropractic and the progress of chiropractic brought upon the past members of the profession. Much like the Dead Poet's Society. In fact, there is a great correlation to the naming. In the movie Dead Poet's Society during the "carpe diem" scene when Robin Williams had the students look at the pictures of the old timers, all of those pictures were of the founders of chiropractic: mainly DD Palmer, the founder, and BJ Palmer, his son who was instrumental in the education of future chiropractors.

Dr. Billy D spearheaded the entire event and gave the opening lecture. The stage was draped in the DC/S banner, a DC/S surfboard (both above), and two ultraviolet, backlit representations of DD Palmer (left) and BJ Palmer (right).

Dr. Billy D is 50+ years old but no one would ever know that after seeing him and his energy on stage. He frequently sprinkled the crowd with "you know, bro" and "do you hear me?" as he squatted for emphasis. Songs (and I mean cool songs) continually flooded the background and he often paused to kick up the volume a bit on songs he found profound. His message was simple: change the perception of chiropractic. The main point I understood was his analogy to race. What if someone said you could not order an x-ray because you were black or Hispanic? That would cause an outrage, right? But it happens all the time to chiropractors in the current American health care system. Another salient point he made with me was the notion that television and newspapers pollute the mind. Without tv and the paper, few would respond adversely to the trigger-finger reports of the "economic debacle."

Never minding the content of what was being said during Billy D's lecture, the energy of the atmosphere was absolutely unforgettable. I've always been a believer in aura and energy forces but I've never felt anything so great in magnitude as I did during the conference. You know how sometimes when watching a movie during a really emotional part you feel your eyes start to well with tears? You're not quite full streaming but you could at any second? For me it's the Bull Durham scene where Kevin Costner plays catch with his dad or when Dufresne and Red meet in Mexico at the end of The Shawshank Redemption. Or when Rudy gets into the game after the crowd is chanting his name. That's what happened to me no less than five times in the 50 minutes that he spoke and several more times later throughout the day.

Next up was Dr. James Chestnut. I thought I was spent emotionally until he announced an undeniable truth: humans are the sickest species. What? Yeah, I had to think about that too. But it's true. Despite all our advances in medicine, technology, and monetary wealth, humans develop chronic diseases at a rate that is incomparable to any other species. Why is that? Current, western medicinal thought proposes we prolong life through biochemistry manipulation but he supposes that is not a viable long-term answer. He proposes we need to address why genes cause the biochemical change in the first place. This train of thought can be justified by the efficacy of physical manipulation, ie, chiropractic.

At this point in the conference I'm thinking there is nothing else that can convince me of the true nature of chiropractic. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Stephanie recognizes me and says hi. Stephanie is a fellow student in my organic chemistry class 90 miles away. I have always noted her as someone with special and attractive aura, personally unknown to me until now. It turns out she is currently on the path to become a chiropractor, like me. The coincidence is too weird to politely consume passively.

After lunch the convincing continues. Dr. Claudia gives her lecture on the drugging of our children. It is quite powerful and is highlighted by the nugget that an esteemed British medical journal study proclaims the reason most people give their kids over the counter drugs during teething is so they can endure a good night's sleep. How pathetic! Though I have never had kids of my own I doubt I would ever be convinced of the scenario of drugging my kids during a natural growing process for my temporary respite. Another great point she made was that people are too comfortable with the word "drug." It is not a stigma nowadays and "drugs" are acceptable. She suggests using the word "chemical" instead of "drug" since all drugs are chemicals anyway. I agree. Think of caffeine, nicotine, or alcohol. They are all pretty harmless, right? They're all drugs. But now consider them chemicals. Would you consume them at the same rate?

The last thing that stuck with me at the conference was the need to boldly carry the chiropractic flag. It was likened to American independence. Traditional medical doctors have been trying to squash chiropractic forever. That's not hearsay; it's documented fact. That's mainly why chiropractic has such a bad reputation. (Example: how many people have heard of chiropractic? How many people think it's a valid form of care? Almost everyone has heard of chiropractic but few, except those that have experienced it, believe it's valid.) Over 600 people have been jailed for the practice of chiropractic. Yes, it's true! 600+ people whose only intention is to heal without the side effects and iatrogenic effects medical doctors cause. This fact is directly reflected in the price of malpractice insurance between the two doctors (chiropractors' are significantly less, by orders of magnitude).

Everything I soaked in during the conference cemented my decision to become a chiropractor. Granted, I was already 90% to that decision but I always had a nagging doubt. Now I am a firm 100%. Not only that, but for the first time in my life I am driven towards a goal. I know that sounds funny for someone that has been as successful as I have been in my pursuits. I've done a ton of amazing things and earned a plethora of accolades but I have never once been driven to any of them. They just happened as I trudged on through life listlessly. I trudge no more.

My First Professional Bicycle Race

I haven't always been a fan of bicycling but since I moved to San Diego I met the right people and came into contact with the bug. To me, riding a bike is absolute freedom and I always enjoyed it. I bought a mountain bike and rode it around town; I even commuted to work on it. But it wasn't until I watched the Tour de France several years ago that I considered it a "real" sport. Yes, it didn't hurt that an American on an American team was kicking ass at the time in a sport beloved by Europeans on European soil (you might have heard of him...some dude named Lance). Watching the Tour I became aware of the nuances of the sport and the extreme conditioning it requires. That inspired me to buy my own road bike to investigate just how difficult it is. Turns out, it's pretty damn hard. And awfully frickin' rewarding at the same time.

Fast forward a couple of years and my passion has grown. A couple of major bike races have graced American soil: the Tour of Georgia, the Tour of Missouri, and the Tour of California. All three have sported some elite teams every now and then but the "grand slam" of bike races still only was raced in Europe. Until this year.

For the first time, this year's Tour of California included most of the pro teams that will participate in the Grand Daddy of Races (Tour de France). Better yet, this year's ToC ventured far enough south to include San Diego. That meant I had very little reason NOT to go to it. So I did.

I didn't know what to expect from a bike race, never minding a truly elite one. I guess an equivalent of my first pro experience is if your first experience of a football game was the first round of the NFL playoffs. Still, only two teams participate in that whereas there were the top 7 or so teams in the world involved here.

Another striking difference was the accessibility of the athletes. I was able to talk to several of the best riders in the world just scant minutes before the start of the race. Anyone I wanted to talk to, I could have. Except Lance. He was insanely hounded. But I still saw him ride by only 5 feet from me before the start. You'd be lucky to get a glimpse of some football star and that would only be after the game if he chose to trot by the stands in celebration. These guys just popped out of their RV and signed autographs and posed for pictures with anyone who so desired. And this happened literally 15 minutes before the starting gun. I kept thinking to myself, "these guys should really prepare for the race" but I guess they have bike stands in their RV to warm up.

As an aside I can definitely see how Lance's bike got stolen. The bikes are just left propped up against the team RV with seemingly no one watching them. Look how close I was easily able to get to snap this shot.Pictured here is a Rock Racing bike with the words "Sexy Beast" attached to its frame. These are several thousand-dollar machines! The riders are inside preparing and there is no one overtly monitoring them. Though there was a mass of people outside I felt I could have climbed on one and ridden away. In afterthought, I am remorse. Note to self for the next race.

For my first race experience, I positioned myself a couple of hundred yards away from the start line to view the actual competition. I caught an unidentified Astana rider (neither Lance nor Levi) on film.By the time I took a picture of the group ("peleton" in bike speak) they were gone. I spent about 90 minutes commingling and all the action whizzed by in less than 3 seconds. Luckily I had a plan to drive to the finish line another town away and view the action there too. (They race for several hours at a time so that was pretty much everybody's plan.)

What I haven't mentioned yet is that not only did I drive but I toted my bike too. I parked within a couple of miles of the finish line and rode my bike in, thereby allowing myself access to the race course and the streets closed to auto traffic. That's the best way to do it, I discovered.

At the finish line there were plenty of booths set up to pitch wares and what not. I scored a free tee shirt for owning an Orbea bike from the Orbea reps. I scored a free pair of bike socks for trying on a pair of weird-ass but wholly cool "anti-shoes," MBT or something like that. It felt like walking on a cushy ball. Herbalife tossed me a sweet bag for giving them my email address and I won a tee shirt from Chipotle. I forked over $15 for two Garmin-Slipstream (one of the elite teams) water bottles. These are the new-fangled Camelbak, no drip kind. Awesome.

After the marketing phase of the race I decided to establish a position to watch the end game. Seeing how the absolute finish line was insanely packed I opted to cruise down the course on my bike to alleviate some fan pressure. I established a position 3 kilometers (yeah, bike races are measured in metric...I think it's like 400 fathoms or something) from the finish line. There was hardly anyone around me. I was able to cheer the riders on as they rode by within a foot of me. Literally. But since it was a relatively flat part they rode by pretty quickly. Still it was fun.

When all the riders passed I decided to ride to the finish line and check out the post-game activities. On my way in I ended up getting yelled at by a race official to get off the course but I didn't know that until I rode passed her. Sorry. (Not really.) But as I got closer to the finish line I saw a group of riders riding around to cool down. So I did what any idiot amateur would do: I hopped on their wheel and rode with them. I even snapped a picture during that.

What other sport can you actually participate with your favorite athletes? Shooting hoops with LeBron? Pass'n'catch with Manning? A few holes with Tiger? Forget it! I was riding with some Columbia (another elite team) and Garmin riders! Me! Dude who can barely scale 800-foot Soledad without trouble (see Facebook profile picture) and dudes who just conquered 5,000-foot Palomar.

I followed them to the relatively undisclosed location where all the team RVs were located. I don't think I should have been there because the security gave me a weird look on the way in but since I was with the other pro riders they probably thought I was a friend. Once inside I was again treated to unbelievable moments. I wore my Wisconsin bike jersey that day and that proved to be a source of several cool moments. No less than a dozen other fans stopped me to discuss Wisconsin-related stuff. But two really cool moments happened with the teams.

The first was at the Garmin RV. They were getting rid of all their surplus water bottles and some random fan grabbed the last eight. One guy grabbed eight! Like it was his job or something. I tried to pressure him to fork one over by saying "dude, don't hog all of them." Unsuccessful, I resigned myself to not getting an official team water bottle. Just then a Garmin employee grabbed the zealous fan and ordered him to give me a bottle. After the unwilling transaction the Garmin employee said, "I went to Wisconsin. You deserve a bottle." Sweet!

The other moment happened was I was idly tooling around the RV parking lot on my bike when one of the riders said "Hey, Wisconsin." It turns out that was Nick Reistad from Team Jelly Belly (http://jellybellycycling.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/jb_biketeam_bio_nick_r_p11.pdf). We overlapped at Wisconsin in 1995 and we rapped for a bit. It turns out we both have hopes to live in Madison again one day. But the real point here is that one of the athletes sought out a fan. What other sport could you imagine that happening?

Say what you will about the sport of bicycling but I've discovered there is no other equivalent fan experience. And I say this having been privy to some special elite athletes in other sports. I've reffed the likes of Landon Donovan, Cobi Jones, and fellow-Virgo Sacha Kljestan. Soccer stars. I've met John Elway, the second best quarterback to play the game, in a personal setting. I got Joe Montana's autograph (the BEST quarterback ever). I dated a girl who was family friends with Ron Hextall, the best goalie to play hockey and the first to score a goal. Though they were all amenable I am comfortable saying none of them are as approachable for the ordinary fan as the biggest names in cycling.

Coup d'Etat Weekend

A local San Diego radio station occasionally hosts an event on the weekends where listeners schlubs get to own the airwaves for an hour. It's called Coup d'Etat. All you have to do is be an "insider" (ie, give 'em your email address and demo info), submit 10 songs, and pray you get picked. For the first time I will attempt to earn this righteous honor. And I need some input. Below is a list of songs I am considering at this point. Please provide feedback as appropriate. I know there are more than 10 songs. Don't provide *that* feedback. Just help me compile an non-un-pickable list.

1. Cake – Mr. Mastodon Farm / Ruby Sees All
2. Poster Children – If You See Kay / New Boyfriend / Where We Live
3. The Box Social – Brontosaurus Blues / Pay Attention / Ginger Ale
4. The Muslims – Bright Side
5. Keller Williams – In A Big Country
6. Big Audio Dynamite – The Globe
7. We Are The Fury – Hey Love
8. Times New Viking – Love Your Daughters / Not High
9. Smashing Pumpkins – I Am One
10. Direct Hit! - Buy Me A Drink
11. Bruce Bocce – Friday Night / Green
12. Sebadoh – Ride The Darker Wave / Black Haired Gurl
13. Kings Of Leon – Joe's Head
14. Flame Shark - Midnight On Pearl Beach / The Salton Sea
15. Dramarama - Late Night Phone Call / Some Crazy Dame / No Regrets
16. Blind Melon - Soup / Tones Of Home / Three Is A Magic Number / 2x4

Perhaps I should go with the midwest band theme. 9 of the 16 bands are midwest-based and a tenth could be argued (Blind Melon). Though the 10th spot should be reserved for a San Diego band (The Muslims). Whatcha think?

Any input used in forming of this list will earn a shout-out on the broadcast as the schlub dj gets to ramble a bit before each song.

The Last The Box Social Show (11/1/2008)

Freakfest in Madison is nationally known for its debauchery and mayhem. Tens of thousands of people flock to Wisconsin's finest city donned it their favorite Halloween costume roaming State Street to revel in a joyous celebration of life. This year was no different. So say 38,000+ people.

The Tenenbaums were on full display again this year. Me as Chas, Jason as Richie, and Karolyn as Margot. I must admit the appeal of these costumes comes from the strangers that greet us with an awed expression of recognition. It's been a few years since the movie aired but it's always satisfying when someone stops you to display their sincere gratitude for the exhibition of memorable characters. And it's secretly appealing to see the infrequency of mimicking. We only saw three other instances of our garb; none as convincing. Two pairs of Richie and Margot and a solo Chas. No other trios. Still I yearn for a more complete representation. Perhaps I can convince my other friends someday. (NB: Carson and Sonja make an awesome Ari and Uzi but they're way too young to cruise the scene with us.)

Aside from the costumes, State Street is replete with live bands. Many are local bands but the headliners are nationally known. This year the main band was O.A.R. They suck. Of course that's my opinion but I'm pretty sure I speak for the entire country when I say that. Actually they're not bad; they're just not good in any way. The highlight for me was The Box Social. Unfortunately it was their last show ever. Which is completely sad because they were just starting to break it big. They've toured nationally (I saw them in San Diego twice!) and they earned a coveted invitation to Summerfest in Milwaukee (the nation's largest musical festival) this past summer.

The Capital Times reported on the occasion: [The Box Social, which has been one of Madison's most popular bands in recent years, played their last show at Freakfest. The band is splitting up because the four members are "all moving in completely opposite directions right now, and you just can't be a cohesive unit when that's happening," as they write on their Myspace page. "We don't hate each other -- in fact, we'll probably become better friends now that this is over."

For the last time, the Box Social ripped it up for an jumping crowd with "I Hate My F***ing Job." A drunk random swayed on one side of the stage, doing a little air guitar for effect. He was wearing a wife-beater tank top with holes scissored out for his nipples.]

That random drunk was actually the lead singer's brother and his "costume" was hilarious and the epitome of drunken laziness. Mountain-larious, if you will. Apologies to all the wives that get beat. The reporter must have ditched early because about a dozen other "random drunks" were summoned to the stage by the lead singer, much to the dismay of Security, to do nothing but act energetic and stupid. I was not one of them though I could have been. I was too busy moshing and soaking in what I knew was their last show. Ambivalence ruled the night.

They played my favorite song, Hot Damn!, the song that attracted me to them in the first place. It contains a prevalent cowbell and I had hoped I would be asked to stage to play it. I almost asked them to do that but I didn't want to attract attention to me during their last night on stage. How egotistical would that have been? A couple of days later I hung out with them at a local bar and proposed my delinquent desire. "Absolutely!" was the emphatic reaction. What awesome dudes! I'm quite confident I'll be asked to play a reunion gig sometime in the future.

All in all, it was one of the best live shows I've ever seen. That's not a statement I throw around loosely. I've seen a ton of live shows. I've seen The Smashing Pumpkins before they hit big, drinking beer with Billy, D'Arcy, James, and Jimmy after the gig. I've seen Live at Street Scene bring Dennis Rodman on stage. I've SoCal'd moshed to Social Distortion (the only time I ditched an absolute, drop-dead gorgeous hottie for a band and the only time I was worried for my safety but, man, was that fun!). I've seen Dramarama at a Jersey Shore bar reminiscent of the scene in Roadhouse where the band was separated by a chain link fence with beer bottles getting chucked at them. By the way, alcohol you don't buy but ends up on your body washes off quite easily I discovered. The glass shards are a different story though.

In addition to their songs, they laid down the most exquisite version of Life During Wartime I've ever witnessed. It was their penultimate song. (What a sublime word, penultimate.) That threw me for a loop. I knew they did covers: I Need To Know, Refugee (the lead singer is fueled by Tom Petty), Having An Average Weekend (c'mon, now, you know this...it's the The Kids In The Hall theme song). But I never thought a rockin' version of a Talking Heads song I never identified with would satiate my indie punkness. It did. In spades.

Did I mention all the band members came out in costume? I can't say I saw every band that night but I didn't see another band attempt a costume. That's really weird when you realize EVERYONE on State Street is in costume. No one attends Freakfest without a costume. The drummer wore a full-body dog costume. The bass player wore a bee outfit. The circumference around the midsection made me wonder how he could play. But he could and it was "cute," so says Karolyn. She also noted you could see his "package." I don't know what she was talking about but then again she thinks he was the cute one of the band. The lead guitarist dressed in an ironic college Republican outfit, sporting a fake McCain-Palin button. And the lead singer did a cool Max Fischer, though later it was revealed it was simply a guy-going-to-a-funeral. How sad! Last show = funeral.

The good news is that the lead singer is soldiering on full speed ahead with music. He was the main songwriter and most of the songs they were working on for their next album will be released by his solo venture. The drummer is moving to Washington despite statements from that state that they're chuck full of Brian's. The bass player is moving to Austin, pending a girlfriend's acceptance to dental school. And the lead guitarist is pursuing music with another Wisconsin-based band.

I still haven't wrapped my arms completely around the termination of my favorite band of the last couple of years. But I did wrap my arms around Nick (the lead singer/songwriter) when he left the bar. Afterwards, Jason asked me why we treated the bar experience as if someone died. I didn't have an answer. I couldn't refute the death factor in the air. I know their songs will live on perpetually in my playlists but knowing nothing new will surface pains me. I guess that's life at its prime. And I thank them deeply and sincerely for it!