Office Hours...

"What in the world could you be doing in there for that long!" She said for the umpteenth time nearly kicking down the door. "I gotta pee so bad I'm going to explode!" I respond with a calm and simple "I do some of my best thinking in here.”

It has become my favorite room in the house. A spot where I can go to be alone with my thoughts. Enjoy a cup of coffee. Depending on the time of day I may even finish a beer. This is a place where I can skim through various social media outlets, catch up on my library book or even come up with the idea to write this very post -- I may have even written half of it while in here.

The bathroom is my office. And during Office Hours I get some of my best work done. Getting zen in the bathroom is a part of my routine and I look forward to it. Every morning I budget time before my hectic commute — a bike ride lining beach — to take care of business (if you know what I mean) but to also reply to emails, send birthday wishes, play Words with Friends against my uncles, pay bills wirelessly and plot my day.

Since we have opposite schedules my Office Hours usually are not an issue for us. Jamie doesn't have to get up for another hour after I have already left for work. On a rare weekend we are both off is usually when it creates a disturbance. Moving forward with our life together we will eventually have to have at least 2 offices. I do respect that she has to go in there, but I do give fair warning before I enter.  “You may not see me for a while.” I pause like a sergeant going into battle. I look up to the sky for dramatic effect as I secure my iPad under my arm. Sleep dust crusted in the corner of my eyes and my hair sticking up in every direction from my glorious slumber, “This one might be hell. Burritos last night. A black coffee and Raisen Bran. What was I thinking?" Pausing to bite my lower lip pretending I'm about to cry for more dramatic effect. "And I have to come up with a 80 point word against Uncle Phil. I love you. Wish me luck.” I kiss her head as she scoffs in disgust. “You are so gross.” Waving me off, “I love you too.” As the door closes and I am at peace.

List of (some) Accomplishments during Office Hours:

• YourFriendMatt.com was created here.
• Making countless and accurate grocery lists.
• Applying to college.
• Canceling cable.
• Viewing and Completing Season 3 of Breaking Bad.
• Paying bills, trading stocks and chats with my financial advisor.
• Planning birthdays and family functions.
• Nearly every call I have had with any customer service agent...ever. 
• Obligatory crossword puzzles.

Need I say more? Don't act like you aren't viewing this from a Facebook post on your toilet right now.

-YourFriendMatt

The American Public...Part 2...Mr. Prick

"Uh! I don't know how that got there!" He said frantically as he tried to hit any button that would close the x-rated open web-browser that read "Grandpa's Christmas Cookie.”

Author Side-note: Ew. 

I use to do freelance tech support for a small law firm. It was the best job ever, but I was working through school so anything with a paycheck seemed good enough for me. One day while making the rounds at the office one of the partners flagged me down. He was a real prick. Never said hello to me, always cut me off, especially when I was explaining things to him. He even asked me to leave the room while I was fixing his computer because “The Big Boys were talking.” He then laughed at me as I left the room with his colleagues. Once again, I can't say this enough, this guy is a prick.

"What the hell is a cloud anyway!" As his boney pointer finger digs into my chest. I ask him how I can help him and he proceeds to tell me how nobody can fix his problems. "No shit." I thought to myself. “All I need is for this-to-talk-to-this and then you can leave.” As he slams his tablet next to his desktop computer. “You got that? Are you paying attention?” Almost cutting himself off, then scoffs. I start looking through his preferences, settings, etc asking standard questions “Sir, do you know your password?” Turning to look at him. He shoots me a look like I have just murdered his family. “How? How the fuck am I suppose to remember a password, you dumb shit?” Oh, I forgot. I am a complete dickhead. It's my fault you can't remember the same password you use everyday to get into your email. My bad. This is when I notice the porn open...but hidden behind another application. And, not just any porn. The title of this erotically graphic adult adventure is 'Grandpa's Christmas Cookie.'

This prick goes on to tell me my millennial generation is a bunch of "dumb-asses" and have no respect. He then tells me I need to "get my shit together" and stop "dicking around" when he has so much work to do. Clearly, I am not the one dicking around here and I know how to push this porn, Grandpa's Christmas Cookie, to the front lobby TV. I double-click while he continues yelling at me and before you know it two tan, barely-legal spread legs topped with a Santa hat are being broadcast to the entire office. Nothing is more priceless than watching someone, especially such a fucking prick, scramble to make their dirty porn go away. He pokes the monitor - which is NOT a touch screen - presses delete and finally just shakes the monitor to make it stop. The entire office was blasted with sex as he works any combination of keys to make it all go away. I love when people forget that their desktop computer monitor isn't a touch screen.

Needless to say I didn't last long there and Mr. Prick never talked to me again. It is my hope that he learned his lesson...but probably not. People like him never do. Regardless, I think we can all agree on two things. Porn is great when you don't get caught watching it...and that guy is a prick.

-YourFriendMatt

Enjoy this post? Check out The American Public Part One here!

The Nose Ring...

Holy shit! I think you ripped it out!” Jamie screeched in my direction. “My bad.” Trying to subdue my laughter.

Recently my family came to visit for the week. My mothers first trip out to Southern California to see the life her son and girlfriend had made for themselves. My sisters first trip to LA as an adult. This is a big moment for our family and we were all thrilled. Not to mention Philadelphia is 12 degrees and covered in snow so it is a nice break from the "Polar Vortex" they are currently experiencing. 

Oh, ya know, just hanging at the tattoo shop with my mom. That is blood on my sister's shirt...

We had a few ideas planned for their trip and taking them to see the chaos Venice Beach offers was a must. I don’t know what it is but every time family comes to visit, we go a little crazy. In the infamous words of the famed Canadian actor-turned-rapper-turned-actor Drake...YOLO. Case in point, last time Jamie’s parents came for a visit she and her mother decided to get tattoos one afternoon. Why not? When they’re 2-for-1 you’d be an idiot to pass up that kind of deal. This time around it was Jamie and my baby sister who decided to get piercings. Surprisingly, but not really too surprisingly, my mother instigated the whole thing. She cheered them on from the sidelines and paid for it all. Way to go, Mom!

A few days passed and they headed back east. Jamie still had to nurse the fresh hole in her nose so it wouldn't get infected. I came home from work one night and our dog, Piper, greeted me by running around, jumping excitedly and accidentally knocking things over as she does. This creates an effect on the house and we all started rough housing.  Jamie and I went to pick up Piper at the same time when my left hand perfectly grazed Jamie's face, fingernail first meeting the faux-diamond-topped piercing sitting on the side of her right nostril. The piercing now stuck under my fingernail was ripped out of her nose with one swoop....accidentally of course. 

The scream of pain that came out of her next is still ringing in my ears. "You dick! What the fuck!" Followed by a string of obscenities that I couldn't make out as she ran for the bathroom. Blood running out of the inside and outside of her nose life a faucet. It was everywhere. I pulled the toilet paper off the roll and handed it to her to stop the rushing blood. “You are such a moron! Why would you do that! My nose!” And I just took it...laughing on the inside. "Yeah, I know, I'm a bastard." I agreed and apologized.

We got her patched up and she iced it down. She eventually got the ring back in her nose a few hours later as she shot eye-daggers from the couch I was not allowed to sit on now. 

Important safety tip: refrain from rough housing with a tiny, furry dog when you have a fresh nose piercing. It could end in disaster.

-YourFriendMatt

Hell on Earth...

I am at the Department of Motor Vehicles. This is hell.

February 3rd 2015 - It's a Tuesday morning. The DMV opens at 8 on a beautifully brisk SoCal morning. I grab my coffee-to-go mug and leave to get there by 7:30am, to be the first in line when they open. Pulling onto Colorado Ave. I see a line of people and think nothing of it. After all my local DMV is across the street from Universal Music Group, maybe there is a celebrity signing or free concert. Nope. This endless line of disgruntled zombies holding paperwork is here to get a title changed or take their drivers test. This should be fun.

They don't open for another half hour. 

This is probably my fault. I should have followed the rules, been aware of my expiring license and got it taken care up in a timely manner making a reservation. I did not do any of that and now I am paying the price. When I finally got into the building, just to get into another line, the chipper administrative officer told me I needed a reservation to take my California drivers exam and added "They next one I can schedule you for..." trailing off in silence squinting at the glow coming from his computer screen "Is late March! Wow! That's not bad at all." I stare in awe. I can't do anything but I can't be without a license for a month and a half. I beg and plead asking if there is anything else I can do and he brings me in close to tell me a secret. "The DMV in Granada Hills accepts walk-ins." He whispers "You should be able to get in and out of there quick!" I thank him for the tip and jump in the car - and expired license - to Granada Hills.

After sitting in in the other Hell on Earth Los Angeles provides to the world - The 405 - I arrive a quick hour and a half later at the next DMV and there is no place to park. Usually not a good sign. Remember how that guy at the other DMV said I should be able to get 'In and out'? Well, this is what I walked into.

5 hours, 3 different lines and a panic attack later I walked out. 5 hours. 5 hours of sitting. I had so much time on my hands I wrote this blog, downloaded the DMV App and took practices driver tests. I even called home to a few people to let them know I was still alive.

This is a tale of caution. Don't make the same mistake I did. Make a reservation for the DMV. And if someone gives you advice at the DMV punch him in the balls.

Yo. I can’t read good...

There ain’t no shame in my game. I went to the reading trailer in middle school. You know, that tan trailer on wheels out back of the ‘real' school where they took the four or five students per grade that were…linguistically challenged. The place I learned how to say and read the word ‘vegetable’ as VAG-EH-TAB-EL. "Short ‘A’ sound Matthew and you almost have it.” The blonde language arts teacher endlessly wearing a navy sweater turtle neck would say. Emphasis on the almost. This was after weeks of work. "I fink I am wewwy startin' to get it." I would say in response as she made a sign of the cross and rolled her eyes. I was brought up Catholic.

I don't hate reading, never have. I actually love it, but when I was younger, I guess it was harder for me. As an adult (kind of) now I try to read as much as possible. There is even an alarm on my phone that goes off daily so I can make a point to try to find a half hour a day to read. Take that brain! And School! You'll never get the best of me!

I recently did an experiment to see how many words I read per minute now as a semi-function citizen of this beautiful America society. I thought it would be way harder to figure out. After googling for about 6 seconds I found a website that offers reading test for free, Staples.com. Sure, why not? The place that sells the Easy Button also provides thorough aptitude test for reading competency...for free? Sure, why not?

As it turns out I read at 237 words per minute. Which, if you can't deduce by the bold letters on the tablet shaped graph included above that clocks me in at 5% slower than the national average. Me can't read good...according to Staples extensive online testing. Welp, there goes the rest of my confidence. That's right, I am worst at reading than an average 8th grader. It says so on the tablet graph above. Go check.

I included the link below if any of you are interested it this the comprehensive analysis. Let me know how you do!

Can you read good? Click here to see...

-YourFriendMatt

When I Grow Up...

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." - Ferris

Hi, my name is Matt, I am 27 years old and I have no idea what I want to do when I grow up...and that's okay. 

See? What the hell am I doing here?

It is my hope that someone out there read that and sighed with relief. Don't let anyone fool you, most of us have no idea what we want to do. Some of us may think we know what we want to do but I don't know if anyone ever really has it figured out. And if you're reading this and you did know what you wanted and you're so successful please comment below to help the rest of us.

Reflecting on the last year or so I am coming to realizations in my life. First is that life rules. I have countless people in my life that I am grateful for. I live by the beach (let that sink in) in Santa Monica with beautiful girlfriend (and now a tiny pomeranian with a jaw problem; see below), my family fully supports me from 48 states away, I have a job I love and hobbies I love even more, health, and I ride my beach cruiser to work. Even after reflecting on all that I can't help but wonder what's next?

I'm not worried about failing as much as I worry about understanding the chances that could lead to...something. Failure or success. Am I keeping my eye out for opportunities that are right in front of me? Am I doing everything I can to put myself "out there" (wherever that is) to meet new people, see new places and fully take advantage of the world around me. Am I putting too much pressure on myself to "change the world" or should I start by changing one small thing at a time? 

If you have read this far into this post thank you. I hope that you feel relieved that someone in the world feels the same way you do. Hopefully someone feels this way and I am not a total loser...but what the hell this is my blog...fuck it. And...that being said...this is incredibly personal. But...once again this is my blog...so what the hell. 

Let's take a risk today. And tomorrow. And the next day after that. Let's start small by smiling at someone new, take a moment to slow down some careless interaction like buying coffee and look at it from another perspective. Compliment someone's shirt who knows maybe they will offer you a job or be your best friend in 10 years. Take an alternate route to work, school or the store and see what's there. Make everyday count. I have to continually remind myself to live in the moment. Plan for tomorrow but live for today. 

I may not know what I want to do when I grow up but let's have good time trying to figure it out.

Does any of this make sense?  

-YourFriendMatt

Blink 18...Get Your Shit Together...

Fuck Tom! No. Wait. Fuck Mark! Or is Travis an asshole? Who should I be pissed at?

If you haven't heard, and care about Blink 182 at all, Tom (kind of) quit the band. Or didn't? It all seems very confusing as of now as more news and allusive Instagram, Facebook and Twitter post keep coming out from the band. This is basically a 27-year-old, pop punk loving dudes worst case scenario of a soap opera. 

On Monday one of my half-bearded millennial friends ran up to me asking if I had heard the news. One of my childhood (and life long) favorite bands has made some horrible announcements. Evidently Blink 182 can't get their shit together and Tom quit; then quickly posted that he didn't.

The Breakdown of Blink-Gate 1/26-1/28 as I see it:

1/26 - 12:01pm - KROQ posts article that Tom quit the band...but Matt Skiba will be filling in.

Matt Skiba replaces Tom...Photo from that one weird Matt Skiba album...Wait? Which one? I don't know either.

1/26 - 12:02pm - I cry uncontrollably.

Handsome. 

1/26 - 1:34pm -  Tom post instagram picture of some overweight Tron guy and says he "Never quit the band."

Pretty sure Tom was actually abducted by aliens in the early 2000's. Remember when his voice changed? And he didn't talk about dicks anymore? AND...this guys dick. You definitely looked. What the fuck is going on there? Good dick, dude!

1/26 - 1:35pm - 9PM - I am happy and I look forward to new Blink music and the future and my life rules.

1/26 - 9pm - Rolling Stone, somehow, has more connections than me and was able to get an interview with Travis and Mark, where they call Tom out for being a boner.

Basically what is going on now. It is crazy how history repeats itself...except now they both have $60 million each...Oh! What money does. Bring back the lip rings, tall socks and backwards/sideway FlexFits...

1/26 - 9pm -  1/27 - 12:27am - The next day - I am inconsolable. Basically and human mess-ball of emotion. I put on my Batman pajamas and drink till I pass out on the couch. 

1/27 - 12:27am - Tom tweets and then deletes "Don't pretend there isn't more to the story." With another comment about kicking out Travis.

1/27 - 9:28am - Radio silence...for now...I think all is lost...I start playing my favorite Blink songs...but then...

1/27 - 3:37pm - Tom writes open letter to fans about his side of the story.

I miss the old Blink. The Blink that got naked with its friends and ran around being a bunch of foul-mouth hooligans. This is what I based my entire life from. Boys, get your shit together, have fun, be happy and go do what you do best. Bring smiles to everyone through music or antics. I get it, you have other commitments but come on. Get aligned. I have no idea what to do now. I am going back to bed and listening to Take Off Your Pants and Jacket. Not the music. Just the last 30 tracks of dick jokes..

For your viewing pleasure. The year was 2000 and all was right with the world.

-YourFriendMatt

Adventures with Lyft...

This is my only blog this week. Just watch the video. It is worth it. This guy rules. All I wanted was a ride to the bowling alley to meet with friends and I got so much more. 

We are here to meet each other, greet each other, challenge each other, hold the door for each other and most importantly fuck with each other...I have been fucked with.

-YourFriendMatt

Newport Beach...

“Total rookie mistake bringing the car on this ferry.” I said shaking my my head staring at the shoreline.

Jamie and I love to take day trips. We have both recently entered into the next steps in our careers and trying to line up our schedules has been less than perfect. I spend more time with our dog than with her some days. Luckily we had the opportunity to take some time off together around this past holiday season.

We got up one morning, lazily, had a pot of coffee and started bouncing ideas around. Laguna Beach? A bit far. Santa Ana? What is even there? Burbank? Santa Barbara? Can we bring the dog? As we surfed the internet for “best places to visit in - insert SoCal town name here - we came across Newport Beach, CA. It look adorable and not too far. Kind of a New England feel to it. We found out there was a ‘Fun Zone’ with arcade games, ferris wheel and shore snacks…and who doesn’t love corn dogs, funnel cake and other deep friend delicacies. It has beautiful beaches from the pictures we saw and Balboa Island. Which we weren’t really sure what was there but you had to take a ferry (with car, totaled $3…where the hell can you find anything that cheap in Southern California?) which seemed fun enough for a day trip.

We jumped in the car and 40 minutes later we were reading ‘Welcome to Newport Beach’. As we pulled on to the main strip it reminded us of our vacations with family in Outer Banks, NC. Sleepy, quaint, beach-bum vibe that made us feel relaxed. Beach on both sides of us as we pulled up to the Balboa Island Ferry…which only allows 3 cars at a time. I can imagine during there peak season this might be a nightmare but I guess we went on an off day and pulled right on. The ferry took off across the bay and we got out of the car. “Man, is that were we are going? That island is tiny as hell.” I said to Jamie as she shrugged and nodded yes. We stepped out of the car to take a selfie and we were there. The ferry ride took less than 4 minutes. “Welp. Let’s get back in the car.” I said feeling very much like Clark Griswald. 

***BALBOA ISLAND TIP - If you are just heading over there to walk around, sit on the beach or meet up with a friend…YOU DO NOT NEED YOUR CAR. The streets are narrow, parking was hell and it could take upwards of an hour to get back off the island on the ferry. We walked the perimeter of Balboa Island in under 20 minutes. I am not talking about speed walking either. We stopped to take photos, see Christmas displays on the neighborhood lawns and walked an entire dock.

We visited Newport Beach on a perfect day. No clouds in the sky and 60 degrees. Just the right kind of weather to were a sweater or hoodie-vest combo. Which is a fantastic break from anyone who has been living without rain in 75 degree weather for the last year…not that I am complaining. We hitched a ride back on the ferry to see what else Newport had for us. The ferry is located right next to Fun Zone and we found street parking one block way. Told you it was a perfect day. Jamie and I immediately went for the arcade to play as much Skeeball as we could. We grabbed some lunch at Newport Landing conveniently located a on the water near Fun Zone with and upstairs porch to eat on. The food wasn’t that great but the wait wasn’t long and the views made up for it. Their outside seating is a great place to grab a drink, people watch (one of our favorite things to do), look at the beautiful California coast and share a warm conversation.

It’s rare that we get time together, especially for a day trip, but if your in the area or looking for a quick easy place to spend an afternoon with your love give Newport Beach a try. We loved it…just leave your car.

-YourFriendMatt

Spray Anything...

"Well, now this has just become a drunk dude playing guitar." My friend says with a sigh and points to the stage. 

Say Anything has had a rocky road. I loved 'Is a Real Boy' - the bands first album - when it first came out. The thought provoking lyrics and different approach to songwriting caught me. It was refreshing but still catchy enough to keep my adolescent attention. At that time in my life if a band wasn't signed to Driv-Thru Records I wasn't giving them a chance. I never really followed the band after that album. From what I read about them in interviews Max - the bands singer and songwriter - always seemed to come across pretty arrogant, condescending and pretentious. Who knows? I am sure he is probably a nice guy. He never did anything to me personally. I just wasn't into listening about his problems throughout the years. When I heard that they would be on tour with another one of my favorite bands - Saves the Day - playing 'Is a Real Boy' I had to go.

After Say Anything took the stage it was pretty easy to see that something wasn't right with Max. I thought maybe his flamboyant stage presence and low vocal range was possibly an act. After seeing him puff something on stage during the show and hearing him slurring words between songs I think it was pretty safe to say that he was under the influence. Which sucks. Everyone paid to see you play and you are going to get so fucked up that nobody can hear the words the have memorized like prays.

Gripe aside - If your gonna get that trashed you better go big or go home. Luckily for us he did (Please see attached video) and proceeded to throw up during the only solo performance of the set. The spot light was on him, the band left the stage and it was time for him to serenade us with 'I Want to Know Your Plans'. He started playing the guitar - kind of - with his thumb - no pick needed - I guess - and mumbled through some words - off-timed. This is when he looked to his left and left her rip. Yellow projectile vomit cascaded on his guitar and a security guard standing at the crowd barricade. For me, this makes up for the entire performance. 

Yes. Max puked on the security. What a beautiful disaster and a fantastic story. As unexpected as it was I can't really say I was suprised. I have to hand it to him though, I really thought he was going to walk off in shame or yell at the crowd but he powered through.

...I just hope he apologized to security.

-YourFriendMatt

Hello 2015...

Shit to do in 2015:

-Get passport and get off North America…even for a weekend.

-Play drums for a band at a show in LA…and beyond.

-Post a blog once a week…totaling at least 52 post in 2015.

-Work on next film.

Shit accomplished in 2014:

-Survived Los Angeles for 365 days straight…fuck yeah!

-Fell even more in love with Jamie Cartlidge.

-Got promoted.

-Launched YourFriendMatt.com.

-Adopted our dog Piper from a parking lot. 

-wrote, produced and starred (unintentionally) a short film. ..along with went to Vegas to do a short.

2014,

You were a good year, a great year - a stupendous year! Thanks for holding it down. You will be missed but we have to keep pushing forward. We will build on top of what we started here and strive for better. 

Thanks for everything 2014.  

2015 - don't be a dick. 

-YourFriendMatt

One Year in Santa Monica...

...and we moved...

I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead like a do every morning. The sound of plastic against skin of our deflating air mattress echoed through the barren apartment. I got up to lift the shades and let the warmth of the sun in. She stirred and sat up. I turned to look back to see the nothingness and sterile white walls of our new place as she said "Well, what do we do now?" The excitement of driving across country faded quickly and the realization had set in as I looked back through the window at a palm tree swaying in the cloudless blue sky. 

One year ago today we moved from Delaware County, PA to California.

Home Sweet Home...

We arrived late in the night. I took a deep breath as we made the final turn on our adventure across North America. I have been listening to the GPS for 5 days and now it was time to turn it off. Wild. A journey of a thousand miles (or 3,000 miles) begins with a single step. And we were on our last step. 

Our landlords were waiting on the curb with their 3 boys who, luckily for us, were eager to meet us and help move a few boxes. I can't help but admit there was a moment of complete terror pulling up to the address that was discussed on the phone a world behind us now. After all the searching we did on multiple real estate sites for living arrangements we found this place on Craigslist. I was praying it wasn't a scam. I had promised Jamie’s family I would take care of her, make sure she was safe and took her away with me. (And they also promised to kill me if I messed up in anyway…and they made sure to tell me multiple times, so I believe them). We had no back up plan. And now here we were. All the prep work of getting out truck ready for a cross-country trip, packing, parties, good bye's, teary nights over beers with friends, and all the help we had led to this moment. "Please, don't let this be a scam." I begged over and over again silently in my head as I shot Jamie a suave-confident smile as we pulled into our new driveway. "Thank you." Releasing with a sigh praising the spirits watching over us. It wasn't a scam. We are home. And there are 3 kids here to help us move in. "Thank you." 

Thanksgiving 2014 on the beach...

We have learned a lot about ourselves over the course of the last year. To pseudo-celebrate our year mark in Santa Monica Jamie and I took a walk to the first place we went the day we woke up in our new home this time last year, our local coffee shop. We reminisced about how we bought a bed from the first place we saw selling them. We discussed finding a Target and battling LA traffic to get there…and purchase things we never thought off…like a shower curtain…or ya know, towels…or light bulbs. 

I am Space Ranger 2...

Over the last year we have gone through a lot and accomplished a lot. Like this for example, our truck died a month into us getting settle. We were carless and broke in a new city. Luckily, we have awesome friends, Greg and Rick, who were willing to drive my car I left in Pennsylvania all the way out here so we didn’t have to buy another. Thanks guys! Jamie worked as a visual designer, floral designer and now works for a real estate broker. Go Jamie! I got promoted. We adopted a dog. We stayed in Joshua Tree, went to Disneyland for Christmas and then went again in the summer (why not!), we have hosted her family twice and had more people stay over than I can count…and we loved every single one of you who came out to stay with us! We made it to San Diego, we have hiked all over the Santa Monica mountains in Malibu, I started this blog, we flew home twice for weddings and to play on the radio 104.5 with my friends, we have watched my nephew grow up and learn to walk over FaceTime, I made it to vegas to make a short film, I saw the Phillies beat the piss out of the Dodgers in their own stadium, we made it to Catalina (not for a wine mixer), and made some incredible, lifelong new friends.

Love...

It’s been a hell of a year and I look forward on what’s to come. I am truly blessed and lucky. Thank you everyone who has been apart of our lives, especially over this last year. And thank you to anyone who has supported us in any way during these crazy times. We love and thank you for everything.

See you soon!

-YourFriendMatt

Cough...

“What would you say that flap of skin is?”  The gray-haired doctor said to his assisting nurse staring at my naked body.  “Well, that’s definitely his testicles.” she replied pointing. “Very good, dear.” He smiled.

Today I went to the doctors for the first time in 7 years.

There was a period of my life when I didn’t have health insurance. And that period sucked. I gave up skateboarding, throwing myself into dangerous situations for the satisfaction of my friends laughter and I guess…grew up…at least a little bit. 

Going through my health benefits at work during this years open enrollment it dawned on me “I pay a lot for this shit! I am going to use it!” Not that I am complaining as I knock on wood typing this. It is a blessing I have not had to use any of it but what’s the harm in a little preventative care? Over the last few weeks I have been to the optometrist, general physician, chiropractor, dentist and dermatologist. 

Last week I thought it would be a good idea to head to the optometrist before heading to my physical. Seemed like a good idea and all the scheduling lined up. The only thing I had not factored was they were going to dilate my eyes and that last about 5 hours. For anyone who hasn’t had there eyes dilated or forgot what its like I will fill you in. They put some sort of chemical in your eyes, it may burn, it may not, and then like a snap of the fingers you can’t see clearly anymore. I wasn’t able to see the watch on my wrist…and I had ridden my bike. Luckily the doctor told me I still have 20/20 vision, unluckily I had to ride my bike…on Santa Monica Blvd…to my physical…half blind…good thing I have a helmet.

Arriving to what I believe to be my next doctors appointment I roam around the outside of a building complex trying to read the directory signs. I even asked Siri if she could read for me. She told me she could not very matter-of-factly. Bitch. I called the office and asked for directions and the receptionist seemed very confused with what I was asking. “Are you the tall skinny man standing out front of the office window with a bike helmet on?” She said as she could see me outside wondering around. She then told me to “Just walk in.”  I nodded my head sarcastically, walked into the glass door to the office before an elderly patient woman opened it for me. “Bless you.” She said taking pity on me as I took a seat in the sun-filled waiting room. 

“You’ll need to fill this out before we can see you.” said the receptionist handing me what I think was a clipboard and some sort of medical-legal papers. “Sure!” I said and continued to pick up the pen attached to the clipboard. I can only imagine the look on her face when I handed her the forms back with nothing but scribbles. I think I even tried to draw a pirate from memory on a signature line. 

A few moments later I hear “Mr. Bates? Please come on back.” I picked myself up and made my way to the back. Or at lease I’d hope so. “Okay Mr. Bates. Please remove your clothes and the doctor will be right in.” The careless assisting nurse said closing the door as I muttered “ALL my clothes?” She responded from the other side of the door with “ALL YOUR CLOTHES, BABY!” I can’t be sure but I feel like I heard a faint laugh dissipate down the hallway away from my room as she said it.

...Can people see my name body through this window?...

The doctor came in shortly after and we made small talk before he told me to stand up and cough…

007...

This one time...in Las Vegas...we made a short film...

I moved to California almost a year ago. The transition was rough in the beginning. My girlfriend and I didn't know any one in the state...and it's a pretty big state. We were broke from the expenses of travel across the country and stressed wondering about what the hell we were doing. This is when my phone rang.

Chris called me to let me know he was going to be in Las Vegas (a "short" 5 hour bus ride from LA). This is the perfect opportunity I was secretly looking for to forget about what I was supposed to be doing (setting up my life) and go play with my friends in the desert. We discussed the concept of a Bond-eske short film over an even shorter phone call and when we pulled in the the Vegas bus station Chris was waiting there in a red Mustang. "The rental place gave away my actual car, so I got this!" Not a bad trade off. I threw my bag in the trunk, jumped in the front seat (sorry/thanks Becca) and we drove directly to a tuxedo rental shop off the strip. The film attached is the result of putting ourselves in weird situations throughout the city to create something we wanted to see...and yes...I wore that tux all day...even at lunch.

Please check it out and let us know what you think!

Ice Bucket Challenge...

I accepted the challenge from my friend Ed about the Ice Bucket Challenge for ALS. I know there is some strong opinions for and against this...and I try to see both sides of the coin. The fact is I don't have strong opinions about the issue. My friend challenged me, I donated, used recycled water to be respectful to the Earth that I was going to use to water my plants anyway. When a charity sees a 1000% increase in donations and everyone is being kind to each other I can get down with that. If you don't want to dump water on your head thats cool. Just hold all negativity around the subject to yourself. Energy doesn't dissipate, it transfers, and there is already to much negativity around here.

-YourFriendMatt

On Break...

“Holy shit, this place is weird.” - Me

All I wanted to do is read a book and relax on my lunch break. I am lucky enough to work a stones throw away from the breath-taking views of the Pacific. This is my place of choice for taking all breaks throughout the work week, an oasis if you will, from the hell-trap on Earth I work in dealing with the silver spoon, brainwashed to keep-up-with-the-Jones’, American public day in and day out. In all honesty I love what I do, no complaints…if only the damn customers weren’t there…but thats a whole other conversation.

Today, I take the long way to the coast to sit on my usual bench to read and decompress from the first half of my shift. I arrive at my bench just at the edge of the tree lines shade at the perfect time of day. As I take my seat there is a man pacing behind the bench on the phone call of his life. He speaks loud and direct to whomever it is he needs to get his point across to on the other side of that mobile device. I do the usual raised eyebrow dirty look towards him and open my book. As I start to ingest the immoral words from my library-borrowed Christopher Moore fiction my new pacing friend ends his call. Good - my eyebrows did the talking again. Victory.

As Pacer stands there I notice out of the corner of my eye another older man, tattered, in every sense of the word, with a sticker-covered guitar case takes a seat on the grass next to the bench. Indian style now he opens the guitar case to pull out 2 drum sticks. Sure. Why not? What? You expected him to pull out a guitar? No, no. This is California, nothing normal happens here. Especially on the cliffs overlooking the ocean in Santa Monica…I really need to find a new oasis…this place is getting weird. Oh - did I forget to mention he has a tarnished, half consumed wine jug with him? My new tattered friend takes his drum sticks, one in each hand, and in no order or musical computation I can make out starts to sing and bang on the guitar case as if it were a drum using his half consumed red-stained jug to accent his nonsensical beat. I slowly raise my head from my fiction in a mix of confusion, frustration and awe. By the time I look over at this tattered man he has pulled out a recorder, the kind of flute-like instrument they hand out in 3rd grade and starts contributing his own horrific, and once again in no music computation that anyone could comprehend or interpret to paper, soundtrack to the picturesque scenery.

At this point I assume you for got about Pacer. I almost did too. As I rip my eyes from the absurdity that is Tatter to my friend Pacer I notice he is in a trance, barefoot, shoes removed and discarded across the grass like litter in a hunched position looking like he is prepping for a human take-off in the vein of Superman or Peter Pan. He springs upright and releases all the air in his lungs like a party favor balloon squeezed of air. It is at this exact moment I notice another man who has sat down on another bench a few feet from me fighting the air in front of him as passerby’s move out of the way of his mighty fists. What the hell is going on today? I sit and wonder then ask myself, "Does this happen everyday?"

Now, I can’t make this shit up. I wish I was this creative and smart but I’m not. I am on break at work and from all sides around me people are going crazy. How in the hell am I going to focus on a book now? And it is now that I realize. If we stop to notice life, just slow down for a minute...the world is a beautifully insane place. Take a minute this week to break out of your 'normal' routine and look to see what the hell is going on around you. Like Ferris said "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around for a while, you could miss it." Or you might find some crazy assholes doing God knows what in all areas around you. 

But then again...sometimes....you have to go back to work.

-YourFriendMatt

While You Were Gone...

Holy Crap! I am so excited! Here it is! We made a 3 minute short film!

I can't believe that I still get to do creative things surrounded by the people I love who in return continue to push me to do more creative things. I am one of the luckiest and richest dudes on the planet. Please watch, share, laugh, hate it, love it and let us know what you think!

Also, if you have not already done so please check out some of the other shorts we have done under the "I Write and Act" tab on YourFriendMatt.com or at our YouTube Channel at YouTube.com/BrokenSoundRecording.

Thank you all for anything and everything you do!

Stay positive. Smile. Have fun and screw 'em.

-YourFriendMatt

Ol' Trusty...Part Two...

“Oh man. No way. This can’t be happening.” we softly uttered as the engine seized… 

Our band had been invited to play an event for a rock radio station in Philadelphia. We hadn’t played together in almost a year, we had no new material to showcase, some of us moved to other states and we would only be able to get one rehearsal in…we went for it. We missed each other and needed a excuse to play music together again. Besides, we are professionals right? We would all remember the lyrics, harmonies and parts after a hour of rehearsing right? Sure - it's like riding a bike - 'we got this' repeats over and over again in my head.

I landed back in Philadelphia to rehearse, caught up over some beers, packed up and we were on our way. Chris and I drove our ramshackle van full of equipment while the other guys went separately due to prior obligations. When we get together we think we are invincible and even at our age, which is closer to 30 that 20, we find ourselves reverting to our adolescent mindsets. Even the worst ideas seem probable after we all convince one another it's possible. Case in point - driving our band van, which is literally falling apart, 20+ miles to Philadelphia. 

Our final destination...if we make it there...

We got this...

Right before we departed there was a (very) quick conversation about the  possibility of the van not making it. Back up plan? Nope. “She is going to make it! There is no other option!” We decided as we all raised a toast to the van that has gotten us around the world and back. “Here goes nothing.” Chris whispered in a moment of clarity “Okay Ol’ Trusty…all you have to do is get us there. We will take it from there.” caressing the steering wheel. I turn and place my hand on the dusty dashboard. "We got this."

There was traffic so we decided to make our into New Jersey and then cut back over into Philadelphia from there. This made sense if you were driving a vehicle that was well maintained and knew it was going to get your to your final destination. In our case though this was a tricky maneuver. If the van died in New Jersey we were screwed. We crossed the bridge from Delaware in to New Jersey and all was going well. As we had reached the crest of the bridge there was a loud, unnerving bang. Where did it come from? Chris and I side-glanced at each other. “Did you feel that?” I asked. “It’s nothing! Ol’ Trusty will get us there!” Chris responded and then it happened - the van shut off. Died. We were motionless at the crest of the bridge like a roller coaster at the top of its track. “No way!” We both barked “Start rocking forward and hopefully we can coast down the rest of the bridge!” We rocked and pushed and then she went. The centrifugal force and gravity started to pull us into New Jersey as we coasted with a dead van full of equipment. “Oh man! Do the brakes still work?” as I turn to Chris who is throwing an open container out the window. He responds “Man! This is probably an awful time to tell you that the van is uninsured!” We both scream held each other and pray for the best as we careened towards the garden state.

Frantically, Chris pumps the brakes as we whiz by a colorful "New Jersey Welcomes You" sign. We were running out of road fast as we see our lane was coming to an end. "Woo! The shit hit the fan quick on this one, baby!" Chris yells and he jerks the wheel steering us into another lane. I could see there was a fork in the road at the end of the bridge. "Aim for that shoulder man! If we can land there we'll be fine!" I point as I pull out my phone to document with a quick social media post...and to send to the rest of our band to keep them up to date with our current whereabouts. What? If we are going down like this I want social media to know we went out in glory. "Already ahead of you!" Chris responds as our ship starts to course correct towards the fork 's shoulder. 

With a screech of the tires, a cloud of black road dust and a touch of luck we land on the shoulder of the road. We wipe the sweat from our brows and slowly turn to look at each other in awe. After a wide-eyed, jaw dropped pause of amazement we slowly crack smiles. "Holy shit! We did it!" Double checking my phone for the video playback. "Damn straight we did. Now, lets fix this beast." Chris motions to me exiting the drivers seat to pop the hood. In a few moments, along with a a lot of cursing, hitting the engine with hammers and readjusting battery connections we were back on the road.

"I don't know? Should we hit it with a hammer?" - Matt & Chris

The rest of the ride was steady besides a few pops and sputters. We made it to the venue in time to load in, sound check and grab a brew together. The show went on and we had a blast seeing all our family, friends and creating memories. See…like I said…we got this.

-YourFriendMatt

While You Were Gone...

I am so excited to announce we are going to be releasing another short film on August 1, 2014! It's under three minutes! We are always looking for new hurtles to jump and to push our creativity. Trying to get a point across in three minutes is a challenge but I am proud of this outcome.

Above is a quick trailer about the film. We submitted this to a film contest here in California and no matter what the result this is another project of love and passion. Create because you love it, you get to make your friends laugh and screw what everyone has to say. Please check it out and let us know what you think! Thank you for everyone's continued support and love! 

Ol' Trusty...Part One...

"Dude, this could be her last ride. It's only right we take her." I said to Chris convincing him to take the dilapitated band van to our most recent show.

Throughout the years music has taken me across the nation and back. I consider these some of the most formative years of my life. When you are 1,400 miles from home, have no money, everything you own is broken or smelly you learn a thing or two. Since my friends and I started playing music we have destroyed every one of my mom's cars, most of my friend's parents cars, every one of our own cars, vans bought strictly for the band (old or new) and now we have a hand-me-down 2005 Ford FreeStar.

The band van is a beautiful thing. It's your safe house. Office. Board Room. Mobile home. Sales force..makeshift acoustic performance stage...salvation and worst nightmare. I've learned more about  auto repair on the side of the highway...at night...in a state I've never been too...with 18-wheelers whizzing by...underage...in the snow...than I ever will in a driveway. All in all seeing new things from a bench seat in a busted van was one of my favorite parts of the journey.

Up until this point of my life preforming has been something I have always done. I have had a chance to play with some great musicians in Los Angeles since my move but haven't hit a stage in a few months. When my old band got a call from the biggest rock radio stations in Philadelphia to preform live we all went for it. I landed in Philadelphia the day before the show and we ran through our normal setlist, caught up and went home to get a good night sleep.

We gathered on the day of the show at Chris' house to get a plan together. We needed to figure out how we were going to get our equipment to the show. Take separate cars? No, that is lame. Then it dawned on us (well at least me) that the old band van was still sitting out front.

Side-note: A quick back story on this van: It was Chris' families van for years. It has carted him and his siblings to countless karate and basketball tournaments. As the years progressed the air conditioning eventually gave up resulting in too many summer adventures with both sliding doors open...including a trip all the way to Outer Banks, NC from Swedesboro, NJ with the doors open. I know the van has been in at least one accident on the highway and after that they gave it to Chris...who never fixed the headlight. Why bother? Something is also wrong with the battery connection so we had to carry around a little wrench to undo the positive connection to the battery everywhere we went. We would show up to work, pop the hood and unhook the battery...besides all that...this van is a gem and we wouldn't have it any other way. One more thing, it looks like this on the inside...

"Dude! Let's take the van!" I screech cracking an ice cold Pabst. "I don't know man, I haven't started her in months." Chris says turning to me. "Dude, this could be her last ride. It's only right we take her. Who knows when we will do this again!" Sipping and spitting beer everywhere. Chris shrugs with a half-assed sigh and we make our way outside to check out the van.

She sits on the street waiting for us to come check her out. She hasn’t been moved in months and there is a layer of yellow and brown dust pollen covering her exterior. One of the tires is just about flat but we know we can make it to the gas station to fill it back up. As we peer in the back tinted windows we see our previous filth from the last ride…and its disgusting…just the way we like it. “Let’s pop the hood and connect the battery!” Chris yells getting more energized remembering all the good times we have had in this beauty.

There was a zap of blue electric that shocked us as we reattached the positive connection to the battery. “Yes!” We belted with a second wind of excitement. This was a good sign and we both knew it. Chris ripped open the driver side door ready with his keys and turned the ignition. She turned over with a sputter, pop - and finally roared like a dying old bird…our dying old bird. “Well boys I guess we know how we're are getting to the show! Let’s start packing!”

We packed, drank the last of our beers and decided it was time to head to Philadelphia. Half of our band had to drive separate due to obligations after the show and work the next morning. This was no big deal - Chris and I found it poetic. We had started a lot of bands together and worked on more music than either of us could remember. We had no idea when we would get the chance to drive to preform together again so it made sense to us that the rock gods aligned the stars this way. It was like we were 17 again.

To be continued...

YourFriendMatt