The dude abides - Santa Monica, CA - Winter 2019
Tough week? Well, here is the newest installment of the 6-Pack! We have six new rock-indie-alternative tracks exclusively on Apple Music to help you get into weekend mode - including new singles from Table Talk, Cold Wreck, Terror and more! Check it out now!
Music saves.
-YourFriendMatt
"Dude, I have no idea what I am doing. What the hell is a Notch Lapel?" - Me.
Thank the gods for The Black Tux. They have put me at ease with this whole tux and groom thing. As a groom, I have no idea what I am doing. All I know is I want to look and feel as cool as James Bond when we get married. It's my wedding day. I deserve to look dope. I know this will probably sound odd, but I dread picking out clothing, trying stuff on, and trying to figure out what "look" I am going for. I just want to look cool, and I know Jamie wants me to look cool too.
Jamie and I made our way to their fitting room in Santa Monica about a month ago. We have tried at home try-on kit, but it did not feel right. All my groomsmen live across the country; it is not like we can all meet up one afternoon to get fitted for my wedding. I needed a solution that would work for everyone. There was no stress when we walked in, and everything was ready for me when I got there based on the profile I set up online. The future is awesome.
After trying on a few suits and tuxes, Jamie and I decided on a classic and simple look. I feel great in what we picked out. The tux is so fancy and well crafted; and for a dude who wears nothing else but band tee shirts, Vans, and denim, this is a significant upgrade. I am a pretty easy customer, but this experience made me feel like a million bucks.
Santa Monica, CA - January 2018 - Shot on iPhone X
"Sorry kid, I need your scooter to get to work!" - Me.
I ride my bike to work. Standard maintenance is pretty low, and it gets me a good cardio workout before and after work, which is some of the times you need the most endorphins. My route too and from work is pretty flat, which makes for an enjoyable, unstressful ride. Plus, it’s southern California, so the weather is top notch.
But, this week I got a flat on my way into work. I was crunched for time and had limited options. Go back to the house? Out of the question. Be late? Call out? Out of the question. I was already halfway to work. Should I call a Lyft? Walk? Run? Nah. Lyft would take too long to get to me, I checked. Walking or running would leave me nice and sweaty. Being sweaty and smelly for an entire shift at work is not a good look.
Luckily living in Silicon Beach, there is always a new startup doing something unusual that challenges the conventional ways we have become accustomed too for convenient travel. Bird, a new app-based electric scooter company, had just infiltrated the Venice and Santa Monica area with a billion electric scooters littered around the neighborhoods. Essentially, any user can walk up to any of these parked scooters, open their app, unlock the scooter, pay to ride it and then leave it wherever when the user gets to their destination. Once the ride is ended with the app, the scooter locks back up. It’s wild. I open the app and found one close by up for grabs. As I approached a little girl ran right by me to claim the scooter; her dad trailed behind her. I got snaked! I was just a few feet away from my easy and inexpensive way to work, and I watched as someone else stole it from under me.
What was my move? Try to find another? The next closest scooter was seven blocks away; there was no way I was going to make it. Push her out of the way and take it? Harsh, but it just might work. I hung around for a minute to see if they were going to take it. They bumbled with the app trying to figure out how to unlock the scooter and get going. My only advantage was that I knew how to use the app.
I let them attempt a few times to get going and then couldn’t wait any longer. I was about to go with the push them out of the way option, but as I loaded the app, another user had just parked one on the same block. Since the daughter-dad combo couldn't figure out the app on this one, I saw them eyeing the other one, as if they were going to figure it out with the new scooter on the block. The little girl and I locked eyes; it was a showdown. The race was on! We both darted towards the new scooter, and I won.
“Sorry kid, I need to get to work!” I screamed as I scooted away into the sunset. Well, kinda. I mean technically the sun was out but not setting. And it was sweltering out. And I was on my way to work, not really a sunset situation.
I made it with a minute to spare.
On a good note, later that day I saw the daughter-dad combo scooting around Santa Monica, so all ended well.
Don't get in my way when I need to get to work.
-YourFriendMatt
Last day with Ole Trusty...Thanks for the memories old friend. I will see you soon.
“I did not think I would be this emotional over a car.” - Me.
Jamie and I are in our final week of the life we built for ourselves in California. When we moved from Pennsylvania all the way to Santa Monica we thought we were adults, but now I realize that we still had a lot to learn. This time around moving is more stressful than before. Our apartment is the place that protected us, was our roof and the constant when everything was falling apart around us. It is becoming surreal as we pack up boxes and take down the memories we put up on the walls.
This week I sold my car that I have had for 1/3 of my life. That car and I have been up and down both North American coasts and across the country. It was my home for a night when I moved out of my mom's house, and it was the car that took Jamie and me on our first date. Ole Trusty took me to countless band practices and shows. She was one of the most consistent things in my life as I went through adolescence and was a luxury I never took for granted. I have made many memories in the car, and I hope she is now making another family just as happy as she made me.
As we get up this morning, we may take one of our last trips together to the beach and possibly our last trip up the PCH to grab some Neptune’s Net. We can always come back, but you never realize how many routines you have or how some things we took for granted that were at our fingertips. I could not be more excited to start the next chapter in our lives together and take Nashville by the horns to see what she has to offer.
But for now…I am savoring every moment I have left in CA.
-YourFriendMatt
I have always been a fan of Chiddy Bang. Being from Philadelphia it is hard not to be. This playlist brought to me by Apple Music is the playlist to my bike rides to work today. Yes, I am the 40-year-old-virgin looking guy rolling through the streets of Santa Monica feeling super hood.
I don't know why but it seems crazy people are attracted to me. Recently I was sitting on the bluffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean working on some ideas. With my Moleskine in tow, I paced, trying to figure out a personal problem. I sat down and stared at the sea when a squirrelly transient took a seat next to me. A short, "Hey" squeaked out of him as I awkwardly turned his direction. "You know there are plenty of benches around here." Rolled through my head but all I got out was a short responsive, ”Hey.”
"Want to write something with me?" He asked as I looked around for a camera filming us. This had to be a set up. He coughed, ”Look, you already have a book. Let's write." I mean, I guess he made sense. I took off my sunglasses and replied "Okay. What do you want to write?” I was in a fun mood. What the hell else did I have to do? This guy was brought into my life for some reason right? Let's figure it out. This opened can of worms that lead to a pretty fun story. He started telling me about the marines that were 100 yards off-shore, underwater, ready for us when we “disobey” and that the Santa Monica Pier wasn’t a pier at all but a portal to another dimension. “So, you want to write a Sci-Fi Thriller?” I responded. “Listen, man! Don’t get caught!” He barked and rose from the seat running away looking through me, as if I was a demon…or there was one behind me.
Something like this happens to me at least two times a month. I guess I just have that welcoming "I am just as bat shit crazy as you are" look about me.
Remember. Don’t get caught.
-YourFriendMatt
This is one year old today. The point of this was to make a short less than 3 minutes and still tell a story. We did that.
Enjoy!
-YourFriendMatt.
And...I'm drunk...
A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to play drums on the Santa Monica Pier. This was definitely on my bucket list and I checked it off. The added bonus to the night was that Bud Light happened to be in the bar and picked up my tab, then bought my girlfriend and I's beers all night. Then they filmed me responding to whatever they asked me. Safe to say that I am drunk in the video above but I think they planned that...
This video is available on the Bud Light website...my mom is probably so proud...
-YourFriendMatt
Who doesn't love a free pair of cheap sunglasses...
Jamie and I were sitting at the bar enjoying our time off together when I heard "Hey, can I buy you a drink?" I turned to see a petite girl standing there.
Another great night of playing music was in the books. We played the Santa Monica pier overlooking the beach, waves and Malibu. We had finished our set and were done loading out our gear. Everyone was heading their separate ways as the night winded down. I still had an open tab at the bar so Jamie and I decided to stay for a drink before we headed home. While we sat to watched the next band finishing our drinks a red-lipped, 20-something bar-girl approached us and asked to buy us drinks. "Hell yeah!" I said without skipping a beat. Jamie looked confused and the girl picked up on it. "I work for Bud Light and we are out sponsoring a new promotion. You guys look adorable so enjoy!" And she scampered away as fast as she had appeared. I, already perusing the beer list, found myself an IPA and Jamie shrugged and ordered a Bud Light.
We finished the drinks and we were about to close out to head home. Bud Light girl reappeared again like a beer-fairy-god-mother. "One more on us for these two!" She said and handed us free coozies and blue, Bud Light sunglasses. "One thing though, can we get a picture of you two and possibly ask you a question?" She asked as I replied with, "If you're buying I'll tell you whatever you want!" Throwing on the sunglasses and striking a pose for their camera guy. As it turns out I guess they are running a promotion for summer bucket lists and wanted to know if there was anything crazy that we wanted to accomplish before the end of the summer. “Damn.” I replied “You going to be here for a while? I will need to think about this.” My mind exploding with options of insane things I could do with Bud Lights money funding it.
Buzzed Summer Bucket List Bar Brain Storming Session:
My drunken brain went with the last option, as I thought this was the most feasible, as we ran to find the Bud Light girl. They did a video recording of my wish on some tablet and submitted it to their database. “Yes. Score. Totally having lunch with Dr. Emmett L. Brown.” I whispered and we staggered away feeling victorious.
Remember, if someone asks to pick up your bar tab, always let them.
I wonder if that tablet video is online somewhere?
-YourFriendMatt
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
Couldn't they have told me my hair was sticking up?
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.
“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…
The Fighter...
“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
My head hurts....
"FUCK! THAT'S A LOT OF BLOOD!" She yelled. 'Remains calm under pressure' is not something stated on her resume.
Jamie had just cooked us a delicious pasta dinner. She cooks and I clean. It's how it works for us. And I have no problem with it. I eat well. After we engorged ourselves with rigatoni it was time for me to get the dishes done. I went to put the spices Jamie used away in our pantry and as I opened the cabinet door another spice bottle fell out tumbling to the ground. Normal and no big deal. I shut the cabinet door of our pantry (or so I thought) bent over to get the bottle and as I came back up BAM! I clipped the corner of the cabinet door that was now open unbeknownst to me. I hit the door so hard it knocked me back spilling the spices I was holding all over the floor. I put my hand to my head instinctually rubbing my injury. When I took my had off my head it was covered in blood and I could feel the top of head getting warm. I have never seen anything like this before on my life but I cocked my head and blood started pouring out to the floor like someone had turned on a faucet.
"Jamie!" I cry. She was on the couch Pinterest-ing on her iPad. She looked up from the flower arrangements and recipes glowing on her screen and responded with a quick "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" like I intentionally cut my head open to piss her off. "Oh, ya know, my normal 8:30 bleed-from-the-head routine, no big deal." I said sarcastically "Get me a towel!" I was now on one knee worried I would pass out from blood lose... if I was going to pass out I didn't want to fall that far. Head injuries are now joke. I can't believe how much blood flowed onto the floor. Jamie grabbed the roll of paper towels ripping a handful off and throwing them to me as fast as she could "OH MY GOD YOU ARE GOING TO DIE! SHOULD I CALL AN AMBULANCE! ARE YOU GOING TO DIE? THATS IT! I AM CALLING MY MOM!" She yelled so quickly it could be mistaken for one long incoherent run-on sentence. "Calm down. Relax." I ordered as I pulled the paper towel from my head "It's nothing, just a flesh wound..." I trailed off as more blood spilled on the floor and I reach for more paper towels.
Quick! Take my picture!
Jamie called her mom and I sat down on the floor. Not because I was light headed (pun intended) but because if anymore blood was going to spill on the floor I'd rather it was on linoleum. "MY MOM SAYS TO APPLY PRESSURE!" I heard from the other room. "What the hell did she think I was doing?" echoed in my head. At this point what else could I do? Yep, might as well grab a beer.
...HighLife or no life...
After a while the blood slowed to a stop and our night came to an end. Jamie and I agreed I should stay up a while just in case I had a concussion. I called my mother before bed for support and to fill her in on what was going on in my life. What better time than right now while my head is spewing blood? I woke up this morning feeling fine besides a minor headache.
Remember when all else fail...beer will solve everything.
...First timer in Los Angeles...
Record Store Day has come a long way from its start in 2008. I missed the first year but have proudly been participating and watching its progression (and Black Friday-eske lines grow) since 2009. This will be my first year celebrating music with strangers in a new city, Los Angeles. I am originally from Philadelphia but I look forward to meeting new friends, enthusiastically discussing releases of some of our favorite music...and quickly trying to get everything on my wish list before they do. I remember the year Jimmy Eat World put out their classic Bleed America on vinyl and getting the last copy right before the singer of Hawthorne Heights...what was he even doing there? Aren't they from Ohio? Anyway, it's a time for community, excitement and fun. I'm looking forward to seeing what this town has to offer. LA you have a lot to live up to against Repo Records in Philadelphia!
Top 5 Picks:
Ray Parker Jr.- Ghostbusters (glow in the dark vinyl)
Creedence Clearwater Revival- The 1969 Singles
Haim- Forever
Mae- Destination: Beautiful
Skrillex- Recess (just cause it's on tape)
Shortest blog post ever.
It only took 4 months but we finally threw our Christmas Tree out. I don't think it fits...where's that saw...
YourFriendMatt
"We should have just walked..."
Last week Ryan told me he was moving. "Totally awesome new place on the beach man! I am so pumped!" As a friend this is one if the last things you want to hear because an important question immediately follows up with that statement. The dreaded "Hey are you free this weekend?" Which translates to "Dude, please help me, I would do it for you...Come on! I'll buy you lunch! Just help me lift this fucking couch!" I let him plead his case, asked what actually has to be moved and where. Turns out we weren't going far, he didn't have that much, and beer was guaranteed.
I arrived to his house on a hot, sunny Sunday afternoon. We were only moving him about a half a mile away. The biggest thing is his futon, no big deal. I figured he would have some sort of truck to get everything moved in one swoop. Wrong again, as I tend to be. My friend Ry drives a yellow Lotus convertible with trunk space the size of a shoe box. What the hell are we going to fit in that?
This is Ry...and the vehicle he thought would be good for moving...he is brilliant...at least he had beer...
Ry's car is so small that I, at 6' 2" stature, cannot fully fit into it and my legs do not fully stretch out in either of the seats. "How the hell are we supposed to move this crap when I can barely fit in this car." I ask. Ry is not the best critical thinker and he shrugged at this question. What else could we do?...We had a beer while we tried to figure this out. We knew we were going to have to get the futon moved and were stumped on how we were going to do it. Our friend Jeff stopped by while we were thinking of solutions for this problem. "Why don't you guys just water-taxi the futon over?" Jeff said. All of our eyes lit up. Ry lives on the Venice canals in LA and has 2 canoes... best idea ever right? We all ran to the canals to size up the canoes. A collective "This has to work" conversation broke out and we excitedly got on our way to execute our plans.
With a quick buzz and a new sense of accomplishment we decided we had to make one trip before our water adventure. The first trek we thought we would put as much in the trunk "space" as possible, sit me in the passenger seat, close the door and then pack more stuff on top of me through the roof. Sounds good right? Now that we were packed we set sail for a 2 minute drive around the corner to get his stuff moved to his new beach front house.
We both forgot it was St. Patricks Day weekend and it took us an hour to go less than 6 blocks...gotta love LA...all while it was 90 degrees out...with suitcases crushing me...and Rys gas light was on from the moment we left. To break down now would be poetic.
Finally arriving at Ry's new place we unpacked and I met Ry's roommate Scuba Steve. Turns out Steve is a photographer and when we told him about our plan to water-taxi a futon on 2 small canoes he wanted to document the whole thing.
Determination. stevenjayphoto.com...really rad stuff
We decided the car was now worthless and left it at Ry's new place. It only took us 6 minutes to walk back. "We should have just walked. " We both agreed. We quickly got the futon out back to the boats, tied it securely with guitar quarter inch cable (true band guys...it's all we had), and set sail to victory.
"I can't believe how well this is working!" We kept yelling at each other paddling and taking chugs from our Pabst pounders we secured at the corner Asian market before our voyage. Everyone walking the canals clapped, cheered us on and Steve snapped photos. "It's to crowded to take the roads! We're taking to the sea!" Ry would yell to a passerby and slug his beer. "Yeah! It's moving day!" I would yell after him choking on a swig. At the end of our trek we still had to get the futon out of the canoes and carry it 2 more blocks...and we did so with passion and fury....mainly fueled by the beer.
I still ill don't know where my shoes are but that is neither here nor there. Tales like this are what true friendship is all about. Ry is now happily moved in and loving his new location. We spent the rest of the night walking the beach, eating mexican food and drinking champagne. Not too bad. I think there is two morals to this story. First you can make any task, no matter how shitty it is...like helping your friend move, and make it an adventure. Secondly, when your friend asks him to help you move make sure he has beer.
YourFriendMatt
