Thank you BTTF...

Holy crap. It 4:29pm on October 21, 2105, Marty is here somewhere and now I live in California...if I could only actually find Hill Valley, CA...

October 21, 2015 actually happened. And...I am 28, without a hoverboard, Mr. Fusion on my Ford Focus or self tying laces on my Nike's...that I can't afford. My child self would be so disappointed...shit, who am I kidding, I AM disappointed.

Regardless...

From a thanksgiving dinner...yes, not a halloween dinner...thanksgiving...

Back to the Future,

Thank you for being awesome and for having such a huge impact on my life. From the time I saw Marty crank that amp when I was 5 and get blown across the room, I knew I wanted to play music...and never lose my imagination. You are always there for me on TBS on a cold fall day when I felt sick and did not want to leave the couch. You taught me to make wise decisions, stand up for what I believe in and although being called a chicken does suck...that it really doesn't matter in the end.

You have provided me with guidance and years of repeated entertainment. This day might come and go, but it does not end the adventure for me.

Thank you for everything, I look forward to seeing you soon and I will always remember, if Flea asks me to go along with a plan...I won't.

-Matt

Which toothbrush is yours...

"Is yours the green one or the blue one?" I shrugged just using the green toothbrush.

Over the last 5 years Jamie and I have grown to love each other in ways I did not even know existed. We have seen each others flaws and worked through them together. We have worked on our communication and being transparent with each other, even if it is uncomfortable. This includes all the gross things you do in the bathroom when you think no one is watching, at what "level of dirty" you decide to do your laundry, shower schedules, borrowing the expensive razor (and leaving it in the shower 😡), when and where you clip your toe nails...and even mistakenly using their toothbrush. 

Since we decided to move in together, 3,000 miles from home, into a glorified studio apartment (garage guest house), we have no privacy. The bathroom is next 12 feet from the couch where we watch TV. The desk is next to the bed and the "dinning room table" is next to the door.  Shouting, "The mexican we had last night is coming back to haunt me! Turn the volume up, unless you want to hear the battle I am about to get into with last nights burritos!" is not out of the ordinary as one of us gets up from the couch to the bathroom. 

I figure, if we can get through this time, in these close quarters, we should be fine. 

Jamie - Yes, this morning I used your toothbrush, my bad, sorry! Love ya!

-YourFriendMatt

Zombie Wenches From Hell V...

The fifth installment is here. 

Over the last 5 years Chris and I, including any friends and family we could convince, have been putting together these short, campy zombie films. Although we were 3,000 miles away from each other this year we kept the story going. Watch. Enjoy. And thank you!

-YourFriendMatt

Friday Playlist...

This is for anyone looking to have a very chill Friday night in the backyard.

With hits from the Grateful Dead, Dylan and Van Morrison this super chill, influential rock playlist will set the mood for some drinking around the fire. Enjoy!

A Drive To Remember...

“Of course, I drive well, haven’t I driven you mad, already!”

While newly acquired marital bliss was offering us doses of magic and surprise, sharing every single thing was turning out to be a nightmare. Well, at least that is what my husband shall agree as giving me his beloved SUV for a drive was definitely nothing less than a big trouble. 

With little history of driving and absolutely no experience on a SUV, as I looked forward to this task, my husband was struck between beloved wife’s demands and beloved car’s care!

Yet, I am sure every married couple on this earth shall agree that my husband had no choice at all. As he agreed to be an instructor in my subsequent driving adventures, he must have hoped to buy unlimited stock of patience from anyone wanting to sell it.

After endless discussions and arguments about my driving skills, when I actually sat behind the wheel, I hoped for verbal help from him as it was easy to transfer the blame.

Asking him to stop his guidance as I knew my job and blaming him for not helping me out when I needed it along must have confused my poor husband every single time. Though I made endless efforts to stay calm, dragging him into trouble seemed to be embedded within my system, possibly as one of the many side-effects of marriage.

Though I always drove carefully, my husband was never able to appreciate my efforts. Labelling it as over-confidence, his determined stand to hunt for mistakes became one of his habits.

While I relax and enjoy when travelling on the passenger seat, my husband never gets the same kind of opportunity. With eyes glued on the road and mind occupied in mental driving, I am sure he finds my job as a driver more tiring than his own chance at it. 

As if all the drivers on the road conspire with my husband and form one single team, I always find it unbelievable when he picks my mistakes, defending every other driver around. While I am on the driver’s seat, they seem to communicate with my husband, sympathizing his bad luck.

A cocktail of funny, serious, happy, sad all my driving adventures so far have brought me closer to my husband’s endless patience. While as per wife’s code, it is impossible to appreciate him openly, I look forward to many more moments with his beloved SUV. Finally convinced of my skills, be it driving a car on the road or driving him mad at home, my husband has accepted few of the side orders of marital bliss.

“Hold on hubby, there are still many more to follow."

Playlist Friday....

Throwing it back this week to the fathers of pop punk. Without these guys my life would be a lot different. I didn't pay them any attention while I was listening to blink, green day, weezer and NFG in my adolescence, but I have grown an appreciation for them now. Give this a listen on your Friday afternoon and I guarantee you can take on that 3pm wanna-take-a-nap Fever.

Playlist Friday...

After last weeks blast-from-the-past line up at Taste of Chaos I thought I would share this playlist of a few bands that played. I don't know why all these bands are getting back together to play shows but I love it. Throw it on and travel back to simpler times of high-tube socks, sideways trucker hats and girl jeans! Enjoy!

The Moose...

What is it about windowless, wood-paneled, dark rooms that reek of stale beer and bad ideas that remind me of home? 

Recently I joined a neighborhood softball team put together by my landlord. The average age of player is 50. It is essentially an excuse for us to play softball for an hour once a week, and then go drinking at the local bars.

This past week we went to the local moose lodge. With all the glitz and glamour of any moose lodge, I was excited to see a bar without palm trees or a beach theme. This place was even complete with a chain-smoking, elder bartender who has been there since the 60's. She knows everyone by name and bust's everyone's ball's. I couldn't tell if she was flirting with me or if she hated me. It was fantastic. Such a great refresher back to the Philadelphia area vibe I prefer.

If you plan on visiting, we will be visiting The Moose...

-YourFriendMatt

Friday Playlist...

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.

Santa Monica Problems...

 "Siri, seriously? You can't find me a meatball sandwich?" I begged standing on the street corner while taking Piper for a walk.

Sometimes you just want a meatball sandwich. Where I come from, you can get a sandwich at any time of the day, put whatever you want on it and eat (and feel) like a king. Sure, Southern California has beautiful sunsets, beaches, and fantastic weather, but, WHERE THE HELL ARE THE SANDWICHES? I know, carbs are the enemy out here, we get it, I really want a sandwich though. And I want it easily, and cheaply, available at anytime. I love the neighborhood and how small-town it feels in such a spread out city, but all the pizza places and lunch spots close at 10. 

I did get through to one mom and pop pizza shop down the street from my house, cleverly named, The Slice. They answered the phone "Thanks for calling The Slice, we are closed." I paused for a second to think about why they would pick up the phone just to let me down and responded with, "Well, can I get a meatball sandwich?" They said no, told me they were closed again and then hung up. What the hell is that shit?

First world problem? Yes. But I just really wanted a meatball sandwich.

-YourFriendMatt

Late night...

What's going on... 

Getting our money's worth...

When we first moved across the country from Philadelphia to Los Angeles we barely knew anyone and had not family here. Our first holiday's were celebrated on cardboard boxes and makeshift furniture since we were still unpacking. We still had to use our GPS just to find a pizza place less than a mile from us. We were lost.

It was Christmas morning and after tripping over loose bubble wrap and the packing peanuts that littered our place we both came to a genius revelation. "Isn't Disneyland close to here?" We said, scrabbling to search Google Maps to find out how far it was. We were in the car within 15 minutes and battled the 405 to get to the happiest place on Earth, so we could drown our sorrows in Mickey shaped pretzels and ice cream.

Since then we budgeted our finances and looked into getting annual passes...and by the photo above, I think we are getting our money's worth...and we still have 4 months to go. Can we break 40 times this year?

Stay tuned...

Side Note: If we paid for tickets every time we went instead of getting passes we would be at around $3,500 each and about $400 in parking...

Halloween or Christmas?

Just 'cause...

Birthday!

Easter!

Easter!

What are the chances of running into him here?

When does it rain here?

60th Anniversary Celebration!

Playlist Friday...

This was brought to me through Apple Music and it is helping me out with this bike ride to work! Fast tempo Bloc Party and Ida Maria always get the ball rolling for the weekend. Check it out!

What is milk made of?...

"But seriously." Turning to his two friends as seriously as he could, "if it’s only 2% milk, what the hell is the rest of it made of?"

Recently Jamie and I were taking a walk. We overheard three college freshman aged, tie-dye sporting, coachella-going hooligans discussing, in detail, the components and ingredients of milk. They were walking in the same direction as us so we figured we might as well listen in to their views of the worlds. 

Now, I feel old when I hear myself start to say how concerned I am for the future, but holy shit, the ingredients of milk? They also then discussed how when it gets hot out, “it sucks, bad man.” The conversation quickly turned to a discussion about how they wished they could invent something to cool down the temperature. “I mean, maybe if we had a box that could cool down the air and then push it out to the rest of the room so we could all be chill, that might be awesome.” They all agreed as I slapped my forehead in disbelief. 

Their conversation bounced around so much we could barely follow. It was as if a kitten had discovered a yarn ball for the first time and was batting it around the living room floor. So innocent. So happy. So blissfully unaware of anything else at all that causes threat or problem that might lie in front of them.

Hearing the knuckleheads discuss their buffoonery in detail, it made me reflect on my younger days. Is there really a problem with the youth? Or are they just kids? Was I like this? I mean, at one point in my life I thought it was awesome to have blue hair, at another point I figured wearing girls jeans was awesome and for a very short time wearing only black, red and white was all I did. 

I am sure people made judgements about me, but I turned out fine. Listening to them now is definitely entertaining. I am sure these boneheads will get it figured out and change the world.

Maybe they will even invent that air-cooling-machine they thought was such a great idea.

Scoob Bates...

Scoob,

I love you.

Thanks for being one of my best friends on the planet. You were there for me with a playful wag when I was upset or stoked. You were there through adolescent heartbreak, teenage angst, through that divorce, when I got my first guitar, my first car, first drums, first concerts and my braces. You made it though operations in 2007 that cleared my bank account and kept you alive. You were there through car accidents and that short stint when I thought it was cool to dye my hair orange and blue. Remember my blue, plaid, punk-pants? You were a supporting role in all the home movies we made and listened to me when I tried to learn to sing and write my first songs.

You listened and never judged me through all the best and worst ideas I had. 

I could go on forever about all the good times we have had.

I am sorry if I ever yelled at you or was selfish. You taught me so much about caring for others and how to be a good friend. You touched so many people's lives and you were loved by everyone you ever met. I am sorry I left for the west coast. If I could have brought you I would have. This was one of the wildest decisions I have made in my life and I am still figuring life out. I know you were taken care of these last 2 years, but I can't tell you how much it breaks my heart I couldn't be there for you today. This letter, these words, will never do a justice for what we went through.

I know you were in a lot of pain and you are in a better place, but this still sucks. I will see you soon and I am so happy we got to spend nearly 20 years together.

You are one of my best friends. I love you.

-Matt

I Got Stuck...Part Four...

"Holy shit. How many planes am I going to miss today?" 

I had been at the airport now for close to 15 hours. I slept here the night before with my girlfriend, Jamie. After we missed two flights in a row, spent the night on the airport floor and missed two more in the morning, that’s she finally got out. She had scored the last seat on a direct flight to Philadelphia. I was not so lucky. 

As I continued to hang out in LAX, making friends with whoever would talk to me, I learned that there had been a slew of cancelled flights the day before going to Philadelphia. For what reason? I still don't know, but I do know it was affecting my vacation, bowel movements and sleep habits. 

I did get to meet some interesting characters as I sluggishly crawled from gate to gate trying to get on any plane back to the east coast. I ended talking to one guy who wrote episodes for Are You Afraid of the Dark, including one of my favorite episodes found here. I also made friends with a metal band and got drinks with some sales agents in the worlds smallest beer garden, LAX is hell on earth.

"Hey, I like this beer."

One such character I met was a drunk woman, possible on meth, who could not remember her name, where she lived or why she was at the airport. I was sitting, waiting to miss another flight, as I noticed the woman across from me slumped over, drooling and giggling to herself. I thought, “Well, this should get interesting.” I happily perked up as the LAPD arrived to get this show started.

“Ma’am, whats your name?” The first officer asked as she drooled some more. “Was she like this on the plane?” The officer asked the flight attendant, “She was fine and then someone contacted us when she tried to sell drugs on the plane to any passengers. Then she just took all the drugs since no one was buying and that’s when she started cursing and causing a scene.” I thought to myself, “Man, this lady is awesome. Who has the balls to try to sell drugs in the air and then decides to just take all the drugs if no one is buying?” This is an American hero. The drug dealing woman started to giggle some more and that’s when they pulled out the wheelchair and handcuffs. They moved her into the chair and then cuffed her as she was rolled away.

Just another beautiful morning here in LAX…now, let’s see if I can get on this plane…

-YourFriendMatt

Light...

New release from LA-based rock band Lost Sons up now! The Lost Sons twosome are recent transplants from Boston who take their craft seriously. Lights is a driving, pop rock ballad perfect for a long drive up the coast or cool evening in. Check it out now! 

Plus, I played drums on it!

Playlist Friday...

This came up as a suggestion for me the other day on Apple Music. I went for it and rode my bike along the beach path in Santa Monica. I time traveled back to high school and ended up screaming lyrics to all my favorite emo jams. Plus, when was the last time you listened to Armor for Sleep? Check it out!

I Got Stuck...Part Three...

“Excuse me, your dog is sleeping on my carry on bag.” She said with a smile on her face. We both turned to random, blonde, LA woman like the little girl from The Exorcist and she shut the hell up.

We had been in the airport for 11 hours. We had slept at LAX on a cold, marble floor. Our bodies hurt. Our eyes red and felt as if they were going to explode from exhaustion. Our hair was greasy and stuck up in every direction, we looked awful, disheveled and smelly. We had missed 3 flights in a row due to cancellations, and now being stuck in the airport was cutting into our vacation time. Not cool.

We had our dog, Piper, with us which added an additional layer of stress. It is one thing worrying about ourselves, but now Piper’s Benadryl was wearing off and she was running amuck. Piper is an 8 pound, brown and blonde haired, scrappy asshole of a dog. I love her. She gets into everything, likes to eat trash and make bed-nest out of whatever is around that you don’t want her making a bed-nest out of…such as other people carry on bags, jackets and neck pillows. She collects them, takes them under whatever piece of furniture she can find and makes a nest. In our current situation, she found a bench in our terminal and was happily making her bed. We didn’t care, we were too tired.

The next flight was boarding and we were waiting to see if we could make it on. Piper, who was now licking some little kids face and barking at things, had to be put back into her travel carry bag just in case we made it on the flight. This is always a scene because she fights like hell against Jamie and I as one of us holds open the bag and one tries to shove her in. “Oh, she’s fine, this is completely normal!” Jamie yells to disturbed onlookers over Piper’s screaming barks, and waves them off with a smile. “Going to Philadelphia? I like your shirt!” Jamie adds for good will.

“Okay, if only one of us gets on you go first and just take all this shit with you.”We discussed as I point to all our bags. “That way everything will just be in Philly when I get there and I will only have to worry about walking on a plane, you will have tons of help at the airport when you land.” Both of our families were anxiously waiting for us on the other side of the US in Philadelphia for our arrival. She would have plenty of help to carry all the bags and Piper. 

The plane boarded and was about to take off. We did not get on. This was the fourth flight in a row that we were not able to get on. The gate door to the plane was closing, solidify the defeating feeling in my gut that we were still stuck in LAX. Just as it was about to shut the gate agent busted through the door. “We have ONE SEAT AVAILABLE, which of you wants to go! Now!” We had our plan and I helped Jamie gather our things and got her on the plane. I watched it take off. Scared for her, but a little relieved that one of us was going home. Now it is time to get my ass on a plane.

The adventure in LAX continues…

-YourFriendMatt

I Got Stuck...Part Two...

"I wonder if we'll ever get the hell out of here?" I stated in uncertainty staring at the clock, begging it to go faster.

It was almost 4am and we had slept in the cold LAX airport on black and while marble floor. Very comfortable and accommodating. At this point a cardboard box on a heating grate in New York would be the Ritz Carlton. Jamie and I stared at each other coldly, hating each other, damp sweat and anxiety poured over us. Silence. We just want to get out of here. "This sucks." Was a common response to our deliriously back and forth conversation as we tried to keep our spirits up. 

The clock stuck 3:45am and we packed up out makeshift bedding of carry-on items. With all the strength we could muster, we gathered our bags, which seemed to weight a billion pound now. We had to get through security. Rounding the corner for TSA we could see everyone was already in line. Another 40 minutes later we were there. The first time we went through security check the day before they pulled Jamie aside to rip her bag apart. She had a camera and a bottle of perfume she forgot to take out that set off certain alarm...and I guess she looked like a terrorist. Just for fun, I took her bag and left the exact same camera and perfume in there, we had time and I wanted to see what would happen. We made it through security without any trouble. Feeling safe at the airport yet? Same objects in the bag, no security stopped us. Wow. 

We made it to our gate. We still had another hour to see if we were going to make it out. We are flying standby so there is no guarantee. We got coffees through the endless line at the only Starbucks in our terminal, returning to stare at the clock again.

The plane started boarding. Our building anticipation deflated as the gate agent announced over the intercom, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to begin boarding our nonstop flight to Philadelphia. This is a full flight and all passengers are checked in. We have a full flight. We will not have room for everyone's carry-on bags, if you have a roller bag, please bring it up now to get it checked."

"Welp, we aren't getting out on this one. Maybe we can take a nap." I said, sipping my shitty airport Starbucks. We made a new carry-on baggage bed and laid out watching the happy passengers board their plane tipping our coffees to them. The plane took off and we waved them goodbye.

"When's the next one?" Jamie asked, pulling out her neck pillow and eye mask. "Oh, I don't know, another 2 hours?" I responded. We took a nap and waited it out...

-YourFriendMatt