Like a Butterfly

Tomorrow my muscles could experience new dull aches like nothing they've ever felt. For the first time I participated in the sport I love that no one else seems to get. One hour later it required conscious hand-eye coordination to open the door and enter my car. But I loved the experience so much that not only am I interested in continuing throughout the summer, but I already found a gym for it in my fall home of Harrisbug, Pennsylvania.

Last month ESPN gathered sports scientists, athletes, and journalists to determine the most difficult sport, the one with the most potent combination of physical and mental abilities and toughness. The conclusion: boxing is the toughest sport to master. Boxing is a misunderstood sport. There are so many complaints and grievances about it, I wouldn't know where to being my retort.

It's an incredible demand on your physical body and brain. Even one second of betrayal from either can completely alter the course of outcome. There's no one to back you up when you make a mistake. And try to stand there punching and weaving for three straight minutes! It's incredibly draining to your legs, shoudlers, and arms after the first minute!

A beautiful craft when done right. An invigorating workout even when not.

Music Makes Me Come Together

People see my family music collection and one of the first questions to come after how the hell do you listen to all that? and how much do you think all of those cost? is:

So which one's your favorite?

My dad can spit it out immediately, and it's a somewhat predictable answer: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Beatles. As for me, it used to come out just as easily. I'd say MoodSwing, Joshua Redman and never express the slightest bit of doubt. It's the album that got me into jazz, he's my favorite artist, and it still receives somewhat regular rotation after 10 years. If I'm still playing an album at age 21 I listened to at age 11, it's a keeper.

That album-- and favorite artist status for that matter-- has been seriously threatened since Rufus Wainwright released Want One last fall and my recent discovery of Grace and all that was is Jeff Buckley. For the first time in a while I can't honestly say what my favorite album is. Everyone should have one album that stands to them above the rest. There must be one musician out there who compiled enough excellent songs together in one package so eloquently that you couldn't imagine someone doing you a better job for you even if they personally worked in the studio thinking of your musical likings.

Picking a favorite song to me is much trickier. A song usually recollects on a certain theme, with a certain emotion, in a certain style. There will be songs with melodies that will never leave my head, chords and high notes that give me physical chills on my arms, and lyrics that I wish I had thought of first so I could post them as a blog entry. But it would be a mighty task to come up with 4 minutes of music that could capture half of what my entire self stands for. I can't imagine finding a song, one song, that could unequivocally represent all that is wonderful to me about music. An album can elicit many feelings across many colors, but a song is merely too compact and focused to accomplish that to the same magnitude.

I've never had one favorite song. Whenever asked about my favorite song, I used to recite a Top 5 list, but nowadays my Top 5 list has about eight or nine bullets. I feel no shame, because my dad's favorite song list is a top freaking one hundred, and he doesn't even include any Beatles songs ("There are too many. They'd take up too much of the list.")!

With that, I've decided to compile a list of my favorite songs, songs that I couldn't imagine skipping over if I heard them on the radio. Perhaps this will become an evolving list with additions and subtractions in the future. And who knows, maybe one day I'll reach an even 100 and call it a catalog. I'm almost halfway there anyway.

And if I had to pick one at gunpoint today at this time, I'd say the Rosie song. Or Jimmy. And maybe Josh.

My Favorite Songs

"Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers
"Ain't Too Proud to Beg" by The Temptations
"Airbag" by Radiohead
"All Apologies" by Nirvana
"Amsterdam" by Coldplay
"August in Bethany" by The Juliana Theory
"Beautiful Child" by Rufus Wainwright
"Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen
"Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen
"BPD" by Over the Rhine
"Brown Eyed Girl" by Van Morrison
"Con te Partiro" by Andrea Bocelli
"Crystal Village" by Pete Yorn
"Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot
"Dawn (Go Away)" by Frankie Valli and the 4 Seasons
"Drops of Jupiter" by Train
"867-5309/Jenny" by Tommy Tutone
"Faith" by Joshua Redman
"Fast as You Can" by Fiona Apple
"Free Falling" by Tom Petty
"Go or Go Ahead" by Rufus Wainwright
"Good Lovin" by The Rascals
"Grace" by Jeff Buckley
"Gratitude" by David Murray Quartet
"Hands Down" by Dashboard Confessional
"Hear You Me" by Jimmy Eat World
"I Alone" by Live
"Into the Dark" by The Juliana Theory
"Last Goodbye" by Jeff Buckley
"More Than Words" by Xtreme
"Nice to Know You" by Incubus
"Norwegian Wood" by The Beatles
"Politik" by Coldplay
"Poparazzi" by Xzibit
"Runaround Sue" by Dion
"Salt Peanuts" by Joshua Redman
"She's Not There" by The Zombies
"Simon" by Lifehouse
"Standing at the Edge of the Earth" by Blessid Union of Souls
"Thugz Mansion" (acoustic) by Tupac Shakur
"Two Way Monologue" by Sondre Lerche
"Wedding Day" by Rosie Thomas
"What the Fuck are We Saying?" by Lenny Kravitz
"Who We Be" by DMX
"Yesterday" by The Beatles

Things I Could do With a Summer of Solitude

Write songs
Practice trumpet/sax/piano
Read books
Write a book
Become a runner
Drive around the country
Work on my cooking
Become an online poker player
Make lists in my blog

Things From the Past Week

Right now I'm out of school, have no job, no girlfriend, and very few friends around. And somehow this feels strangely appropriate. I can't explain it, but I'm content with this summer slowly becoming a time where I wander alone. Maybe I can explain it after all: I'm fine dedicating some time to, for, and with myself and only myself. We rarely find such opportunities.

I had never seen a waitress charmed by someone who responded "Fuck yeah!" to her question. Until Tuesday.

The Olsen Twin countdown to 18 has to stop. For one, statutory rape laws are different in each state, and some people could already screw them across half of America anyway. Also, whenever someone finally wakes me up with the news that they're legal, I'm still not gonna care. I'm not attracted to the "coked out at the trailer park" look. Lastly, when I see them I still think, "You got it, dude." I don't know which one said it, but they both probably did, and I can't get over that. Is Jessica Alba still legal? Ok, so I'm gonna pass on Mary-Kate and Ashley.

This catchy melody is so hum-worthy it's scary (If only the lyrics were more than ordinary).

I took this online IQ test and got a 148. Sensing it was a little easy and simplified, I went to another site, but the test got hard and I got bored, so I kind of just bubbled in stuff. I got a 91.

My new suit, charcoal grey with pinstripes, was available for pickup today. When I tried it on, the middle-aged lady who altered it said, "Wow, you look really good in that." It was on the border of flattering and creepy.

If I had the powers to kill off one person in music, it would be Ja Rule, although it's looking like 50 Cent might have done the job for me.

You know what? I actually lied before. I'm not fine with this summer solitude. I'm ok with it for the moment, but if this continues into June, I think I'll explode. I need something productive to do. And cash flow wouldn't hurt either. In the meantime, I'm just reading books, watching tv, cooking, and waiting for the damn research project I supposedly have a position with to get off the ground and actually become a reality.

Very Dominant Genes

Raise your hand if you have such a strong family history of kidney stones that even your dog gets them.

Learning

Almost three weeks ago, I was sitting in the library equipped with two paperback books, a spiral notebook, and a trusty Number 2. Friends Ben and Nick sat with me at a private study desk against the wall, all of us freshly rejuvenated from a recent trip to the coffeehouse for Americanos, Iced Mochas, and whatever Nick drinks. Twas a late night for all of us. As Conan O'Brien's opening monologue aired across college television sets nationwide, the three of us were studying for final exams.

The notes in front of me were a culmination of facts and theories taught to me over the course of the semester. I scanned across my notes many times that night, reviewing things I had learned in the past days, weeks, and months. None of the material was novel to me. I would never receive any more education at the University of Florida. They were done teaching me, and I realized that whatever I had in my head at that moment was all the knowledge I would intake as an undergrad. My college education was complete.

I found it scary, to think that on May 1 I would be receiving a Bachelor's degree from a highly regarded university.

And this is what I have to show for it?
This is all I learned?
What I know now, that's a college education?
That's all?
What the hell?

For the rest of the night, I would ponder on that during study breaks. I felt puzzled and almost angry over my college education. I felt I hadn't learned much. And not to sound conceited, but I was an exceptional student, and if this is all I had to show for four years of college, I could imagine how easy it was to get a college education. Suddenly a college degree meant significantly less to me.

But luckily for me, college has helped me better examine myself and others, and over the following days I realized how ignorant I was to disregard all I had learned here at UF. It hit me as I was reading over my resume. There were several invaluable experiences listed on that single sheet of paper. The time I debated PhD and law school students on legal policy, helping firsthand with studies run by one of the founders of Behavioral Analysis, writing a professor's literary review, working in a facility for the criminally insane: these are all things that would have been unattainable to me if not for UF and my professors. I wouldn't be one-third the person I am today, scholastically or otherwise, without these last four years.

If anything, I realize now the most important lesson my professors taught me here: do not settle. Don't settle for anything less than whatever is needed to fulfill your potential. I haven't. This is why graduation didn't feel like a culmination of my accomplishments. When I walked across the stage, that merely felt like an award ceremony for making it this far. When I shook the president's hand, I didn't just stop there and retire. I kept walking. I'm not done yet. There's more for me to do, more to learn in the ivory towers before my venture into the real world.

The next stop is Penn State.