PBDC Day 28/31: Nostalgia

I love country music. Sugarland is my favorite, and I'm also a big fan of Blake, Miranda, Brad, The Band Perry, you get it. But I didn't always feel that way. It wasn't really until Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (The Angry American)."

I was raised on plenty of Motown and other classic oldies. (Sidenote: "oldies" as in from the 60s and 70s. I was listening to an "oldies" station the other day and heard some early 90s U2. #gettingold) My childhood in the late 80s and through the 90s established musical memories with plenty of rap and R&B: Tupac, Boyz II Men, Jodeci (and the K-Ci and JoJo), Bone, Busta Rhymes, and of course, Janet (Ms. Jackson if you're nasty). There was also a good bit of 3 Doors Down, Creed, Blink 182, Reel Big Fish, and other non rap and R&B artists.

During my lunch break, I may or may not have had a 3 minute dance party in my car when this started:

I met him once. early 2000s at the NEX in Norfolk. Yeah, in Virginia while I was in the Navy. He was promoting his newly-released album Active Duty and happened to be doing an album signing on base. I found it interesting that he and I both had roots in Oakland, California, but I met him on the east coast.

Just earlier this week at work I heard a remix of Justin Timberlake with E-40. Yep, E Feezy Fonzarelli from the V-A-L-L-E-J-O, H-I double L side. It through me off a little bit, hearing the distinct voice of E-40, but it also made a little homesick for the Bay Area.

As an added level of California love, I heard the above Hammer track after getting some awesome Mexican food for lunch.

Don't get me wrong, Chipotle hits the spot every once in a while, but when I want real Mexican food, I have a higher standard. Growing up in northern California, going to college in southern California, and even getting treated to a few places in Texas along the way, Mexican food is soul warming.

And I can't wait to come back to the Bay next month, even if it's only for a few days.

PBDC Day 27/31: Something I Made

Orange marmalade. Soy butter. Wheat bread. I took a picture of this not yet assembled sandwich this morning when I made it in case I didn't find anything better to take a picture of for the day.

And then this happened.

Duolingo, I know you're just using words I've already learned, but damn, this hit a major chord in a minor key. In the direct (and possibly most generally interpreted) manner, this sentence says that said soldier has no immediate family. Immediate family to mean nuclear family, parents and/or siblings. Or if they have their own family, a spouse, pets, and/or children. In that case, it's a heartfelt tug for the soldier who is "alone" with no one to write to, get letters from, or greet him/her at the airport or pier upon their return.

But once become a soldier, sailor, airman, reservist, member of the National Guard, Coastie, whatever you may call it, you are part of a family. Perhaps it becomes your second family. Your family away from home. Or even the only family you have. In any case, the soldier serves with brothers and sisters in arms, to protect the flag and everything the stars and bars represent.

And whether you believe in the military, the wars soldiers are sent to, or "stories" you may hear (but veterans and active duty can call experiences and simply "their life") are real things that they go through with, alongside, and in no way without their enlisted and commissioned family.

Just like "home" can be a feeling, "family" is as close, extended, expansive, and diverse as you make it.

That being said, Duolingo presented me with a gruesome pebble of a lie that snuck into my boot right before my division left the compartment to do drills on the grinder. It was that last pallet of supplies on the pier that left me with a splinter in the palm of my hand as I tossed it on top of the others before we untied and sailed off. It was that one local that had way more than any of us in the bar did that night that bumped into me and spilled the "one for the road" shot just before we piled into the duty van to head back to the boat that final night in port.

And so, I really didn't get to truly satisfy the prompt of the day until now. My writing a blog about the picture for Something I Made was somewhat of a prophecy or prediction. But now that I'm here at the end of this post, I can now present something I made.

PBDC Day 26/31: I Am Here

I'm playing the "artistic license" card on this one by not taking a photo to encapsulate the day. That, and I couldn't find the right composition to convey what I want to say. However, if you want the literal depiction...

Thanks to my wife for indulging me, because yes, when she took that photo I could honestly say, "I am here." And I also enjoy the illusion of my own beheading as my hooded head blends into the black night, despite seeing my full form in my shadow.

Thinking about it, I guess I did take a photo of where I was earlier this morning.

Shocker, I was at work, at the ON where we had an awesome one day sale for tee hoodies for the whole fam. (If you're reading this, the Old Navy nearest you is probably closed and the sale pictured above is no longer valid. Just saying.) If you missed out, sorry you missed out. But if you snagged a tee hoodie, or six, or for your entire family...high five!

But back to my stance on not denoting one photo as my Photo a Day submission for today...

I am here.

In no way am I attempting to say I'm an omnipotent being (nor is this a coded confession that I'm impotent). What I'm saying is that I am here at all times.

"I am here," is more than a declaration of my location.

"I am here," is a reminder to pay attention to your life, your environment, and to respect the time of those you have requested their time (or those that have requested yours).

In short... BE PRESENT IN EVERYTHING YOU DO.

In acting classes I've taken, and many rehearsals and performances, there are reminders among the cast members to be present in each performance. In each scene, and in every moment. Don't just recite lines by rote. Don't walk to certain parts of the stage to "hit your mark." Understand your character, your world, and your story and fuse them all together to connect with your scene partners and be present together to create a piece of art.

If you aren't, the audience can tell. They can always tell. And when they know, you'll know. And it isn't pretty. The glow of smartphone screens illuminate their faces from their cupped hands. Their elbows leave their knees and they lean back in their chairs to count the lamps hanging from the overhead. You hear the rustle of programs and purses as they fumble for something to keep their attention.

And all is lost. The magic is gone. The story is decapitated. And the art is deflated.

This also applies to any vocation which involves customer interaction. Before we go on, let's broaden the perspective on "customer." Typically, when we hear "customer" we think "paying customer" at a retail location, food service, clothing, sporting event...anywhere someone would be looking for something at a place of business at which they'll be exchanging a product for currency. Support departments also have customers. Human Resources, IT, Accounting, management, their customers are the employees, but sometimes this gets lost because there's no direct exchange of money for the services received.

Starting with the traditional sense of the word "customer," let's take the situation of being on the sales floor and interacting with a customer. (For a specific, real life example, check out Far Away from Day 10 this month.) If I'm present while working with my customer, I can pay attention to her, engage her in conversation, take in information from verbal and non-verbal cues, and provide her with an excellent shopping experience. If I'm not, I can miss what she's telling me, make ill-informed suggestions, and ultimately, frustrate her instead of helping her.

What entails not being present? Thinking about off-the-clock topics while you should be engaged with customers. Wondering if you forgot to lock your car, an argument you had with your partner the night before, a math test you think you just bombed before coming to work, anything that is not work-related that distracts you and prevents you from fully investing yourself to your work.

In college, when we showed up to rehearsals and performances, we would sign into a Call Sheet to let our stage manager know we have officially arrived. At a couple different jobs I've had, present employment included, we punch in on an electronic time clock. In a basketball game, you check into the scorer's table and wait for the next in bound to step onto the floor. All of these examples are exact moments in which you remind yourself you are stepping onto the playing field and clocking in. Literally. This is the moment you are given to mentally step through the threshold and lock in.

You're on the sales floor, you're engaging with customers, you're helping people out, and maybe you run into a challenging situation: an angry customer, an off-putting interaction, we've all had them. If a deep breath and a quick count to three doesn't do the trick, maybe you need to step off the floor for a moment and head to the break room out of sight of the customers to regain your composure. In a position of customer service, you're putting on a show for the customers whether they are buying anything that day or not. Lock it in. You're getting paid for it. It's your job.

Think about everything else on your break, on your lunch, or after work. If you can't leave it at the door when you come in, maybe you shouldn't be there, or maybe you need to try to control your mood a bit more so you can be present when it's crunch time.

For an extreme example, say an EMT arrives at a crash scene and three compressions into a CPR cycle,  she remembers her father starts chemo that day.

Flatline.

To apply it to retail, maybe you're helping someone in the fitting room and you come back with an incorrect size, and what you guessed, since you blanked when you got to the dressed on the floor and just grabbed one, was way off and she just ended up leaving because you struck a chord of body image insecurity.

In the theatre? You flashback to the fight you had last night and start spouting off what you should have said when you should be telling young Juliet how a family vendetta means nothing to you.

So yes. I am here. Try it out. Maybe saying it in your head when you clock in, step onto the sales floor, or wipe your feet on the non-skid pad before stepping onto the court at the start of the 4th quarter. A little focus goes a long way.

PBDC Day 25/31: Soft

It snowed again today. It's March 25th, five days into meteorological Spring. It snowed for the better part of the day, but none of it really stuck. A nasty wind decided to come play today so most of what happened was a sideways snow. Blech.

So I decided against taking the easy route and writing another snow/ice-related post to join the ranks of:

• 12/17/13 Snowmance
• 2/7/14 Disorganized
• 3/8/14 In the Corner
• 3/12/14 Partial

Oh, you get it. California kid gets a long, snowy winter and he has to blog about every couple weeks.

But this was waiting for me when I got home.

Go ahead, yell like Brad Pitt in a field with Morgan Freeman and Kevin Spacey...

"WHAT'S IN THE BOX!?!?"

I had been waiting for this since the Season 2 premiere of Hannibal when I ordered it. It's finally here.

My fan-art Will Graham zip-up hoodie from Shirt Punch. That's what was in the box. Will Graham's head.

And yes, it's as soft as the show is awesome.

PBDC Day 24/31: One of a Kind

This is my class ring.

Here's a look from the other side.

California State University, Long Beach. Class of 2011. Bachelor's of Arts in Theatre Arts-Performance, with an emphasis in Directing.

I couldn't tell you why I've wanted a class ring since high school, but I have. I think it's tied to me being a first-generation American in my family and hearing about how letterman jackets and class rings are often handed down as mementos of family tradition, but I'm unsure if that's exactly it. Well, high school came and went, without the letterman or class ring to show for it. After confirming my acceptance to Long Beach State, I knew that I would definitely be leaving college with two items-a diploma and a class ring.

I don't ever remember being a fan of yellow gold, and I've never really been attracted to the traditional sunburst design of class rings that remind of me of mafia dons and high-ranking clergy. So I opted for the rectangle-cut, shiny, smooth onyx (also because my birthstone isn't the appealing of colors) with basic engraving on the side. There were plenty of other graduates that year who were conferred B.A.'s in Theatre Arts, and as to make it unequivocally mine, I had my name engraved on the inside. (Added incentive, it may not take as long as this guy's ring did to get back to him.)

I didn't go to college right after high school. I spent more than four years working towards my degree. And I paid for college primarily with my own military service through the GI Bill. So yeah, my class ring is a tangible reminder of success through my own path. There are many like it, but this one is mine. #riflemanscreed #usmc #oneflagoneteam

PBDC 23/31: I'm Loving

When it came time to pick which foreign language path I was to traverse in high school, I chose French. Living in California, this was in the minority opinion with such a high Spanish-speaking population. But, I did get an opportunity to use my developing bilingual skills while still in high school. I believe it was the summer of '98, and I was blessed with the amazing opportunity to join my church youth group on a trip to Italy.

We had a considerable layover in Paris, and I got to order everyone's food. Somewhere in between a fractured request for a tuna sandwich and more sodas, this is what happened (in French, but in English, for your enjoyment):

Pierre (or whatever his name was): I don't mean to be rude, but why is the Asian speaking French and not the white people?

Me: Because we're from California, and more students take Spanish classes than French. I'm the only one in the group that is taking French.

Pierre: Interesting. Well, thank you for learning our language.

I didn't do much with French after high school, with the exception of a random phrase here or there whenever speaking a foreign language comes up in conversation. J'aime les pommes de terre. (I like potatoes.)

Just over a couple months ago I heard about Duolingo. It's a free app that sets you up with bite-sized lessons in Spanish, French, German, Italian, and Portuguese. I haven't yet cracked any lessons in French, because I chose to start down the path of Espanol since I now have reasons for it to be useful--customer service at work.

I haven't yet used it at work but I have found it wonderfully simple to find a few minutes each day to squeeze in a little Spanish homework. Go ahead, say it, "you can't teach an old dog new tricks," but I'm not one to consider myself old, and learning is learning whatever your age is. Je suis un ananas. (I am a pineapple.)

It's fun more days than not, and the biggest challenge has been learning in a different style than what I've normally preferred, but it's still awesome. I've learned more than a few words, and have been able to successfully string together sentences instead of just regurgitating phrases I've memorized.

Yo no leo los diarios. (I don't read  newspapers.)

¿Tu bebes cervezas? (Do you drink beer?)

El sombrero azul es para mi abuela. (The blue hat is for my grandma.)

I don't think this is all part of me having "school withdrawals" or subconsciously regretting not going into grad school after finally achieving B.A. status, I think it's just my desire to want to always be learning something. Anyone that says that don't need to learn anything else is essentially saying they know everything, or at least everything they need to know. Either way, that's not my preferred attitude, and I hope I never get to where I'm thinking that myself.

Bonjour, Je m'appelle Marlon. (Hello, my name is Marlon.)

Yo no duermo en una cuna. (I don't sleep in a crib.)

Merci, et bonsoir.

Gracias, y buenas noches.

PBDC Day 22/31: Morning

Each morning, when I wake up, regardless of what time it is, I open the blinds at the balcony door. Most days, it let's the sunlight in, but on those days when I've woken up before the sun has risen, I still open them.

I do this because I was on a submarine.

Yes, I've been out for almost ten years, but what I experienced and learned while in the US Navy (not to be confused with Old Navy, which I'm still happy to be with), applies to my life every single day and helps me to appreciate what's around me.

Let's just be out with it: There are no windows on submarines. Yeah, I know the Yellow Submarine, Nemo's Adventure at Disneyland, blazi, blazi, blah. But on actual functioning, deploying, diving, Silent Service submarines there are no windows or portholes to "watch the fish swim by" or "look to see where you are."

There are so many things that I appreciate so much more after having served aboard a submarine than before, one of which is natural light. Think of all those times you turned on a lamp out of habit instead of opening the blinds or drawing the curtains? If given a choice, I go with sunlight every time. It just feels better. Really.

Those days when you walk outside and literally stop for a couple seconds to feel the sun warm your face? When's the last time you did that in a hallway under fluorescent lights or LED lamps? That's right, you didn't.

I fully recognize that there are billions of people who will never experience the privilege (or sentence) of serving aboard a vessel devoid of windows and natural light like the USS Hyman G Rickover, SSN-709, but that doesn't mean you can't appreciate things many still take for granted.

Like that coffee maker on your counter, or that toaster. Or that water heater, oven, or dishwasher. Or those windows in your apartment that you live in by yourself with out hundreds of other people in the room with you. Or fresh vegetables and fruit.

I'm very proud to have served in the Navy, but also a little bit ashamed that it took me such a drastic lifestyle change to appreciate things I was privileged to have as a child, and still today. Like I said, you don't need to serve in the military to appreciate certain things (like those who served in the military), you just have to open your eyes are really see. Open your mind and really feel.

Open your heart and really live.