One Week and 7 States Later

(Sept. 15 :  After one week in gorgeous Denver, CO following our Kansas University PiKap Ragefest)

One week and seven states later, I feel absolute peace and...a hell of a lot lighter.  Is it because I've been living off of sandwiches and crackers?  Maybe the half water / half local brew liquid diet that has sustained my thirst for adventure?  No, its more intangible than that.  Less of a physical lightness and more of a long awaited exhale of anxiety and heavy uncertainty that has been exchanged for a Fresh Breadth of Freedom, Absolute Awareness, and an Ethereal Presence of spirit.

I feel alive, I feel a life, I feel the essence of life.  After years of guessing and searching for what is Right, what is my purpose, what the fuck am I doing giving power points to the Director of Technology about why my cash register is better than IBM's...I feel fresh and new, Tim 2.0.

Speaking with Smiles, Laughing with Love, High-Diving with Hello's, and Gingerly Jogging with Jokes have helped to lie down the foundation of my Yellowbrick Road to Cali's Emerald Triangle ("Follow the yellowbrick road" tune ensues with Tim and Rashad highskipping along, holding hands, cheeeeezing like hell). 

Hardheaded Happiness

(Oct. 1 - En route to Richmond after spending two weeks driving back and forth on the 101 along the beautiful Cali coast )

As I continue my sabbatical for Self-Actualization, I'm constantly reminded of how hardheaded I can be.  It's not like I'm boycotting reason and throwing cases of common sense overboard into the Boston Harbor, revolutionary style.  Nor am I trying to squeeze into a new attitude for my David Beckham meets Anthony Bourdain swagger down the catwalk of daily life...It's just for the simple reason... that I have to.

I question everything.  From debating with my parents Law and Order style about the pros, cons, and logical reasoning behind why in fact,  I couldn't sleepover two weeks in a row at my best friends house...to why I feel being a habitual ganja groupie has kept me healthy for 6 years, only coming down with minor colds once in a Red Sun.

Each time I go to a Mexican restaurant to this day, and the 4 foot nothing food runner pulls up with 19 plates balanced on his arms, head, and one leg and I hear a faint "Very Hot Plate" squeak out behind the gross amount of mexi-lard goodness me and my buddy just ordered, I always have to give the plate a poke.  You know?  I really have to see what these Mexicans think is hot, sometimes I get burnt, sometimes I don't.

But it's the questioning that Intrigues me....

What is hot?  Well than, what is a career?  Why can't I be homeless?  Why do we have to have the "title" of girlfriend to magically and "officially" be together?  DARE said  don't do drugs, they'll ruin your life.  Yes they can, but not mine; they've shown me things and led me to meet people I would have never met, who knows I might even to venture to say that if it wasn't for my first toke of the magic dragon, I might still be in a safe and secure 9-5.  (I say this not to knock a 9-5 whatsoever, but to prove a point that if I followed what Mr. Officer told me blindly,instead of beginning to question "authority", I would be a completely different person, on a different path).

I do agree with Mr. DARE on one point.  Weed IS a gateway drug.  Weed is a gateway to Greenfields of Curious Thought, analysis of the "Counter Culture" and the Prescription Pill Plethora of synthetic love that my generation holds onto so dearly.  I am neither condoning weed/drugs nor attempting to be a liberal hippie reciting Timothy Leary and Jerry Garcia sonnets of free love and Psychedelic  salvation.  I'm just saying, for me, I must question and experience everything I can, I wish I could take yours or her word for it, but dammit, only I can interpret what type of an effect that action or thought will have on me.

Dangerous?  Sometimes

Stupid?  A lot

Am I lucky I don't get seriously hurt or get arrested? YES, Big up to my guardian angels who are on their last straw with me.

But, Discovering TRUTH out for myself?

Absolutely necessary and priceless...(and the plates are never really THAT hot, I mean come on now)

Is This Dream Going To End???

(New York City, Brooklyn:  Oct. 20th 3rd out of 4th weekend raging in Manhatten/Brooklyn)

Is this dream going to end???  It's been two months on the road, and every morning I wake up, I feel like I'm still dreaming, and it takes longer and longer for this euphoric yet eerily opaque feeling to subside as I focus back into my preconfigured sense of reality.

Everyone has experienced the "Where the fuck am I?" wake up in the early morning after either a booze-infused debauchery of well-liquor double bourbon and diet night, or the random pullout futon you were able to successfully fanangle from a group of 20 beachweekers squeezing into the one hotel room they decided to split....Where the FUCK am I?  Heart jerks a few times outside your chest, instant of panic, then the "Aha" moment and all the glorious events of the MorningEve begin rushing in fast forward fashion with fuzzy yet focusing force.

This is a feeling of unfamiliarity that has become a part of my morning routine, which made me begin to analyze this funny brainfart, why it happens, and what does it mean to me...

When you wake up in the morning, what is the first conscious stream of thoughts that flash through your bedhead?  Most start running through their upcoming schedule of events for the day; morning wood...check, brush teetch...check, drive to work...check, or maybe it's thinking about how you are going to ask that girl at the coffeeshop out finally, or maybe how long you can set your snooze alarm before you're off to study.

Whoopi in Sister Act 2 once told miss Lauryn Hill that "if you wake up EVERY morning and the first thing you think about doing is singing, then you need to be a singer."  If I take this theory and plug in my inputs of morning marination, my results arent as clear...What happens when every morning you wake up in a different bed, couch, state, coast with no schedule of events in order?  I am now very aware of the "Where the fuck am I?" felling as it is now normal to not have a clue why or where I am the instant I wake up.  Unfamiliarity is now one of my most familiar feelings.

Having absolute freedom to pick up and fly is an acquired mindset that is built upon being certain that you will encounter uncertainty.  When I wake up the first thing I think about or ask myself is where the fuck am I going today?  It's understood that I will keep moving, that's what I do, that's the only thing that feels RIGHT now...Jesus, I have the worst type of ADD, and travelling is my Adderal. (Again I continue to draw the fine line between escaping and exploring, I make sure not to confuse the two.  This is an important point to keep in mind)

So, according to the school of Sister Mary-Clarenceism, as long as I keep asking myself every morning "Where next Tim?" when I arise from my slumber, then by God I should be a Vagabond!

Can this last forever?

I'd like to think so, but deep down I feel like it will catch up.  Let me put it like this:  My travelling lifestyle is like being with a different chick every week, sounds rockstar until you realize you can't get past the first layer.  You see a lot of pussy, but never the holistic woman that your "making love to."  So in a sense, I'm a travelling slut; fucking, fingering, and sometimes fisting as many holes along the road, just for a taste, but never having the commitment to make passionate love to just one city.  So what's going to slow me down first, a woman or a place?  Hopefully it's both...Vegas is going wild right now, stay tuned for the point spread...

The Lost Entries...

The past two months of my vagabonding travels have spawned some of the most extraordinary and memorable moments of my life to date.  Strong words for a small man, I know.  My purpose of starting this job was for the stereotypical reasons of keeping track of where I've been, "keeping in touch", etc, but honestly my motivation got hit with a mountain of bricks when I lost my camera at the end of my two week coast to coast venture...short story not worth going into.

HOWEVER,  I've been keeping entries rollin on my handy dandy iPhone and would like to share some tastes, smells, hell's, and bells for you that I have been documenting along on my journies.  I'm going to start with some more lessons-learned themes I've picked up along the road, then go into some crazzzy shiiit, uuuuhhhh get it..

The Magical Weekend

And a Magical Weekend it was. I have had some awesome party packed, light strobin, alchohol injected, epiphany-reaching weekends these past few months...but this Ace of a weekend takes the Cake.

The Cro from Tampa bumped up to ATL Thursday night, following my kickball team's glorious W that got us into the all-conference kickball tournament that in no way, shape, or form would Shad and I miss, following an STS9 run....woops.

To all those who are thinking about flying to come see me, I wouldnt recommend it. I must be emitting some jaded aura that hovers over Atlanta-Harsfield International Airport, because the past three weekends in a row my buddies have all gotten delayed HOURS coming to see me. I don't know what I have to do to shake this kinda-fuck-up-our-plans syndrome being casted down from the airplane gods...shamanic intervention? Fasting for two weeks? Human Sacrifice? I dont know but they better stop fucking with me.

So, The Cro and I scoop up Skeechy-Cheeks from Ohio at the airport around 10PM, and hop skip away to see Papadosio at the 5 spot in Little 5 for a pre STS9 gathering. This is the packedest (I dont think thats a word?) I had ever seen my favorite little hole in the wall venue. The experimental, rootsy fusion of electronica, bombastic bass plucking, and moving (sometimes haunting, sometimes epic) keyboard manipulation brought the house down and summoned at least one more die-hard Papa-promoting follower to their ranks. The concert was great, but you could almost feel that everyone was holding back, excited and anxious, mentally preparing ourselves for the ensuing ragefest of a weekend. Bartender, double bourbon diet to quiet down these fluttering butterflies in my tummy? Thank you sir, goodnight and godspeed.

Friday - I was not able to join my craziness-conducive counterparts for the first night of STS9, so ultimatly, the concert sucked. They were thinking about cancelling the concert, but being so modest and understanding, I replied with a "play on brother, play on;)" Alternatly, TimmyJ was able to participate in his first friend-wedding. All the groomsmen positions were taken, but I was a last minute pickup by the Quinn/Nicole Fisher squad to fill the position of "Reception RageMaestro" to ensure booties were boogyin', feet were flashdancin, and stankylegs were..stankin' (in a good way...it smells funky when you have 75 passionate stanky-leggers grinding their rubber heels against marble floors in unison for a mere 3.5 mins..my B). Took the after party to the W, freaked it out in the VIP, and courtesy cabbed home. Not bad for the first friend-wedding, congrats and your welcome QNF. The Reception Ragemaestro is not a position for the light-hearted or heavy-footed, so feel free to reach out for advice...the memories of the wedding are resting on your shoulders...

SATURDAY - After planning how we were going to get Shad onto one of the two Disco Party Busses at Hippie Heaven, we decided to just bring him, what were they going to say, get a cab back from Conyers to ATL? Maybe, but not likely. So Skeetchy McSceecherson, The Cro, Shad, and our Charleston gypsies hopped in the Exploder for a weekend that we will go down in herstory (I've been trying to be more politically correct lately). We trekked about 30 miles through backroads, snaking out of ATL and landed at well, I forgot whose house it was, but from here on out it is dubbed Hippie Heaven. The Huemungo house was in the distance after we drove up the quartermile of a driveway, with a Barn...with horses by the name of Rebel and such, this is gonna be a good day.

For fourty bucks we got a place on the party bus to and from Heaven, 4 kegs, and afterparty with a few bands and DJ, fully decked out with light and sound technician, and the helicopter pad acting as the dance stage....yeah helicopter pad. Thanking the Universe that I had decided to buy the big gulp water bottle, I proceeded to fill up my first 24 ounces to freedom. After our funny conversation of "Hey, can we add another person to the party bus?"..."No we have no more room." (Input Frantic look on our faces as Rashad is already there) "Well, he is right here....sooo" "Ok thats cool then, forty bux please" No problema amiga, muchas gracias. See! Not only am I focusing on being more politically correct, I am also speaking spanish randomly...you know, bi-lingual is in, it's like having a tan, or a million-bucks....it just helps guys thats all.

The first bus was jam-packed and rocking back and forth, so we scooted to the second, which could not be more opposite...for the time being. Our driver was a Dale Earnhart (RIP #8) lookalike with a cowboy hat, sweet shades, and a ponytail. The inside of the bus looked like a run-down motel 6 from the 80's, mirrors running on the roof, uphostery on the walls and floors, and it was Awesome. As the overflow from bus #1 started making their appearances on el autobus numero dos (yep,there it is again) the party got kicked up 3 notches. Three because the music came on, more alchohol rolled in, and the bus got moving, lets do this.

I won't explain much on the bus because I am going to post some videos that explain it all, but it was OUT OF CONTROL. After 15 minutes, we managed to jimmy open every emergency exit, window, and import (beer) we could find and the game was on. STS9 bumping in the speakers, ecstatic energy eroding my ear drums, pure happiness being shared with driver-bys on the highway with a big hello and "Come on the PartyBus....WOOOOOOO." I was feeling damn sexy and in complete control with my $5.00 Road Warrior sunglasses I picked up at the local quiktrip until...BOOOOM! Ohh shit, well I know none of these kids have a gun, half of them would'nt know how to work it...so that means only one thing, tire popage. Are you serious? Haha the look on half of these partypeople's faces was pure fear, instigated by visions of missing the concert, half-tripped out hippies running across the interstate like a tie-die band of wild indians, and bladder-busting boys and girls taking off to the woods to unload. However, the busdriver, understanding of the position he was in to make a power move, said fuck it and kept driving...NOW TURN IT UP!

I will never do will call again for big concerts, fuck the 15$ in surcharges we are forced to pay through ticketmaster (More on that in a later blog, what is up with all these "convenience charges and "Standard Charges"? Convenience is costing too much...), its a hell of a lot better than waiting 45 mins by yourself in line while you see your group frolicking into the entrance like a scene from Wizard of Oz down the yellow-brick road. After cutting in line, making it through the gate and grabbin a few brews, the day and night flowed together like Big L and Jay Z in their historical 7 minute freestyle...seamlessly. Reuniting with old-friends from Raindance Festival, recruiting countless new ones, and alternating sets between the lawn and Pit kept everything fresh and new. From meeting a guy with shoes made out of tennis balls, being in the front row for one of my all-time favs bassnectar, and jumpin and jivin to the sweet sounds and lightshow of STS9 the event was once again, unforgettable.

As the show writes to a close, we make a few wrong turns and just make it on the partybus. This trip is a little different then the ride there. Everyone is pooped, no seats available, so I got to get my monkey arms on and hang the whole 45 mins back to Hippie Heaven. Better than driving though, anyday. When we arrive the kegs are getting tapped once again, light/sound techs are finishing up, and everyone gets mentally prepared for the next event that will be even crazier than the busride and concert.

Everywhere you look, you see shadows scattered around the barn, the lawn, the pond/lake, and the helicopter pad. Some of these shadows never leave their hiding places, absolutly content with where they are, some dont come out because they got lost somewhere in the enless acres of the H.H property. The Crew and I dabbled in the shadows to and from the barn, but ended up adding more buddies to my Facebook account down by the "stage." I was kicking it with DJ ____ and found out it was his first show, of course I would show my support in glowing-groupie fashion. The band, I dont remember much of, but we all were raging until about 2-3 AM when the neighbors put in noise complaints (fact: The closest neighbor was a mile away). Yeah, we were blowing it out!

Like zombies from Resident Evil (See how times change, no more Night Of the Living Dead analogies, gotta stay fresh for the kiddies) we all turned our attention and crawled towards the warmth and beauty of the bonfire we saw beyond the barn. Strangers- now best friends joined around the fire to reflect upon the rising sun of the next morning in the distance. But The Cro and I were not finished, there was more beer to be drunk!

The sun was now up, 7AM and there are still about 25 straglers/warriors still raging and we decided it would be a good idea to make a trip out to the floating dock in the middle of the pond to see how the property looked from there. I mistook the canoe for a rowboat and pounced in like a newborn kitten, but my nimble legs were not on the same page and I took a flip into the water. No harm done, little cold, and all electronic devices were in the side of my pocket that didn't get wet. But as William Wallace would have never backed down from the English and retreat, TimmyJ would not let a little water get in his way of nautical victory(It's the scottish in me)! I swear I never had experienced such a time where reality and a Dream were woven so tightly together that I could do nothing but laugh in amazement. Above, you can see a pirate overboard, he was not as lucky as myself, but he made it! We enjoyed some toasts and moments of enlightenment and paddled back to the car where Shad and SkeechieCheeks had been napping for hours and saluted Hippie Heaven for all the Wonderfullness that had exuded from that happy happy place.

One more twist. On our way back to Atlanta, I thought it would be hilarious to continue down to Tampa while Shad was asleep and surprise him when he had risen. After about 3.5 hours, Shad awoke with a look of bewilderment, confusion, and glazed eyes to see that we were not in Kansas or Georgia anymore. Surprise, going to Tampa woop woop!!! The joke was awesome, but after 5 mins I passed out and woke up pulling into The Cro's homestead. Well, welcome to Tampa. Next two days consisted of recovery, laughs, coming down from Hippie Heaven, and renting a car at Tampa Airport for our ride home. And that my friends, was a Magical Weekend...

Lessons Learned: Not much this time, except always broaden your network and relationships to a network where no matter where you are, you will have a helping hand to show you a good time, or to lift you out of a potentially problematic situation. Instead of waiting for someone else to introduce themselves, or the miraculous drop a bunch of papers (my favorite cheezy chick flick move that never happens in real life)/keg cups on the ground, kneel to pick them up, and find yourself locked in a gaze with your dream fairy, your soon to be love of your life... ok I'll stop...step up ,throw out a hand and a smile and all-good will follow...most of the time ;)

I Got Scammed

Well boys and girls, the Shiester got Sheisted, the Master got Mastered, the Schemer got schemed, and the Karma Police are rounding up their troops as we speak. I never thought I would be scammed, as I pride myself in being able to read people, red flags pop up anytime anything too sketchy starts to occur, and the little siren in my head starts shrieking "Abort, Abort" and off I go. Not this time friends, Tim got rocked for $200 while the little voice in my head was taking a nappie-nap. Let me at least get this message out in case it happens to you.

So I am sitting at the drive-thru Wachovia the other day, still gathering my head from the weekend (this is a big disclaimer I am adding to alleviate the pissed-offness that followed), and these girls pull up to me in a Caddie Escalade with the biggest smiles (I know this sounds so stupid already) and scream, "Hey, do you want an entertainment system for your living room?" I reply , "uhhh, what? pull into the parking lot I'll see whats up". The scam ensues:

So these girls are all giddy and tell me that they deliver these entertainment systems to people's houses and for some reason, they looked at their inventory and saw they had two extra systems for delivery with no order. They showed me the warranty slips, the MSRP on the Paramax 6-Speaker 1000 Watt System ($2100), the delivery papers and the systems checked out. They made sure to tell me that they had to get back to work in 15 mins, but was trying to "spread good karma" and hook somebody up with them if they could get a little "Margarita Money." They also had Sound Advice shirts on, exchanged numbers, and I threw them $200. Let me pause for a second and let you know these girls were not even attractive, in case you thought Tim got Mind-fucked by a few lovely hustlers. To top it off, I told them I wanted the other system that was bigger, and they said "no, we are going to keep that one for ourselves, we are trying to make some real money!" Bitches...

I go off on my merry way, thinking I'll at LEAST be able to sell them for $500 and have a quick $300 come-up. As I start googling this set of brand new speakers, I see scam-alerts popping up, sob stories of befuddled maidens who spend $1,000 on bullshit plastic and wiring for their disapponted husbands. This doesnt feel good. I go on Craigslist to put them up and within 5 minutes it was flagged and the post taken down....Yep, Tim just got scammed. I tried the speakers out and they have about 200 watts instead of 1000 to run 6 speakers, which equates to sub-par audio quality at best.

Lessons Learned: Remember when your Mom told you if something seems too good to be true, then it usually is? Yeah, touche Mom, touche. It's not the money that pisses me off, it's the fact I let these stereo sluts scam me, without me even thinking it was sketch. I brush it off, as I just made $300 off of free furniture I acquired, but I hope the Karma Kings throw down the hammer on these "karma-spreading" snakes. This my friends is NOT the ideal way to make money on the road as it was very risky, yet made sense to my ego and entreprneurial spirit. Hey, we move on, and it only makes you smarter right? I'm glad I'm getting these lessons learned out of the way before I hit the road Sept. 9!!!! Stay tuned for Trip Itinerary

Hip-Hop Hygenist, Rooftops, and Taxi-Cab Historians

It only took 13 months for A friend to make a trip to come down and see ol' Timmy Boy in Atlanta...yeah I have the best friends I know. The back-breaking work week of charting out my route to the west, intense facebook poking, and the ever-complicated decision of what type of frozen meat Tuscan Tim will be marinating for dindin left me as excited to see one of my best buddies from home as a pubescent boy seeing Pammie Anderson's balloons for the first time (yeah Dad, im sorry, I deleted the history when I was 11 to cover my tracks).

Despite his connecting flight clusterfuck of a trek up and down the east coast trying to get from DC to ATL, I managed to scoop him up right before the Snoop Dogg/Slightly Stoopid (Stephen Marley, Mickey Avalon guests) Blazed and Confused Tour. Dodging rush-hour traffic like Bill Bubba Clinton dodged the Vietnam draft, we pulled in right on time...to take a pee, a glorious geyser at that. We meet a dentist and a nasalspray hustling medical sales rep next to us and trade pee-watchout posts in the parking lot. After downing some brews, a few cigarettes, and picking through the nasal-spray wielding rep's endless bag of snacks, and finding out that a company really makes Scoobie-snacks (they are even in the shape of a bone, so cool), we were off skipping to the show (fortunatly, didn't see anyone pee or poo themselves before the show started).

Snoop Dogg Show Ensues....(click here for video)

I saw Snoop at Bonnaroo a few months ago and thought he killed it then, but he commited genocide at the Masquerade on Thursday. Those of you doubting me now, especially those who have or have not seen any rap shows, Snoop is his own breed. With a four piece band backing him up, a few of his throwback roaddogs (Kurupt), and mixing in everything from "Blame it on the a-aaaa-aa-aa-aalcohol babbby", to "Next Episode", to "Jump Around", he keeps the crowd engaged, screaming, and chanting Snooooooop DAAAAAAWWG for hours to come. Be sure to check out the pics/vids here. One of the most memorable/hilarious jams of the night was when Snoop pulled Moses' Ol' Testament maneuver and divided the sea of raging listeners into "East Coast" and "West Coast" and would point to whatever side to yell the loudest to "rep their coast." Well seeing as I was in the "East", we were in Atlanta (home of dirty south rap...far from "east" and "west" stereotypical rap anyway), and about 92% of the crowd was white and looked like they were trying to do cat's cradle to make their finders spell a W.....the East ran the show. It was a glimpse of triumph, but culminated into everyone throwing up a peace sign...well played Snoop.

At intermission, drunk and sweaty already, we started to do the only thing we know to do when the blackout starts to creep in....freestyle with randos'. Best friend, TimmyJ, and Shad begin to start kicken rhymes about the show, goofy tripped out hippies we see, and McGuiver (the only time your freestyle is ever legit). Who comes tearing through the crowd to deliver an epic throwdown of how it is living on the mean streets of gingivitis and cavities? The dentist we met from the parking lot! I gotta tell you, the thirty something year old was throwing out "You gotta use crest to keep em clean and white..." etc, had us dying/thoroughly impressed at the same time. You never get too old to vibe, show some humility, and make new friends, gotta love it. Check out a glimpse of the retainer-rockin rhymer.

Slightly Stoopid was, well Slightly Stoopid. Great reggae, Stephen Marley came out to help add some, how you sayyyy "authenticity" to the movement, and they/we came away with a successful show.

Recently, especially with the ensuing "aloha" from Atl around the corner, Shad and I have been making it a point to take the afterparty to the roof of our complex. We found out you could easily climb the roof to a landing pad at the very top of the building and hang out on a safe/yet still mildly sketchy, railed in walkway. Reminiscing on old times, adventures to come, and having an eagly eye view of the Buckhead, Midtown, and Downtown is a great way to wrap the night up with close friends (as long as you dont mysteriously slit your hand open and wake up to get 7 stiches....nameless third roommate). After singing some "Rebelution - Safe and Sound" communily at the top of our lungs, we decided it was "time to go to couch" (I figure i'll be politically correct, for it's not fair to say bed since one of my roommates is without one..by choice) , right before we almost set the kitchen on fire from a totino's pizza...textbook, but we had an eye on it ;)

One aside I would like to make before I put this puppy to bed is how after one cab ride with the coolest driver I have ever met, I learned more about Atlanta in one hour then I have my entire 13 month tenure. This guy was from NY, moved here when he was 18, and has seen the city go through it's ups, downs, twists, and turns throughout the last 15 years. We all clicked and after an hour of sitting in the parking lot of the venue we left our cars at the night before, shooting the shit, we ever so eloquently summed the city up with these points:

• 8-1 Girl to Guy ratio. Girls just want you to come and ....ohh my god guys, actually talk to them. Play it smooth, treat her like a lady, be confident, dont give her too much attention, and she might be buying you a drink at the end of the night. This is a city full of parents who lived in the city, moved to the burbs, and now the kids want to come back in, and the parents don't like little Sally going out with her girlfriends in Buckhead who might get into "trouble"(meeting a cunning young man who will wine, dine, and bring her to the dark side...sometimes litterally hahha). But wining and dining does not have to go far, a lot of these women don't want the baggage, their big girls who want to go on a date here and there, but can leave it at that. This feeds into the next point:


• It is cheap as hell to live in ATL....these 1 million dollar homes, would go for a quarter of that price up in DC/NY/LA...but here you can make 30-40k and live (or appear to others) that you live a millionaire lifestyle. For example, this past weekend I saw two guys pull up with their pimped out rangerover, system blazing, indiglo lights, and roll into the Publix Coinstar...with a jar full of nickels and dimes. Hmm, frugal or hood-rich...you be the judge, but either way perception is everything...and that's why ATL has been known as the "City of Facades." This does not have to be derogatory, but ATL is a non-threating neighborhood where you can set up a retail shop, an online marketing firm, make something out of yourself, and not break the bank to do it. I can definitly see myself returning one day.


• Atlanta - The City of Revolving Doors - Have you ever noticed why Atlanta does not have a large sports following? Yeah some die-hard Vick-infused Falcons fans and Chipper Jones die hards are around...but NOTHING like other cities- comparable to the size of ATL. This is because ATL's economy is sparked by saturation of surrounding colleges. Georgia Tech, Georgia State, Emory, Morehouse, Clark University, are all downtown, Kennesaw, UGA, Georgia Southern (I know I missed some) all within 45 mins-a few hours...then you look at the southeast USC, Clemson, UT...Atlanta is a very attractive city to live in for young professionals. Many come to study, then leave, many leave for school, then return to downtown. Besides the school influx, people who are from Atlanta sometimes come here for school, then go back to their own private interests out in the burbs where they hail from. So the net-net is that Atlanta is a metropolis that always has new/old blood coming and going, but never does it let its revolving door hit you on your way out. Because of this reason, Atlanta has also been knows as the "City for Fugitives", you get in some trouble? Come to ATL and it will be hard to put a finger on you.


• Atlanta's explosion started with it's railroads and a depot for goods/materials that were being imported from Savannah and the Chattahoochie river. The city grew, developed, or lack their of and before you know it you have a sprawling metro...with no metro, horrible public transportation, and roads that change their name every 8 blocks. Folks with money wanted to live downtown, then migrate out, naturally. However after the recent demolition of all the "bad parts", subsidized housing rezoning, and the demand of new money (new condos..too many) wanting to move downtown, all the "lower echelon of society" is getting pushed out to the burbs...just who the Money was trying to get away from. Now the cycle is being reversed, but soon, Money will have "no place to go"...what to do? Maybe this is what needs to happen to smack the south up against it's sometimes "color-aware" mindsets and live together like the rest of the country. The signs are already clear where you have million dollar homes on one block, and the ghet' on the next street...Atlanta needs some guidance, but no one wants to address the direction of the city...if it ain't broke dont fix it...until it blows up in your face. Should be interesting...
  

Lessons Learned: It doesnt matter how long best friends are away from each other, you pick up right where you left off...and make sure to leave a cliffhanger when they finally leave for next time! Always be genuine and act like you have known them forever. I have really started to understand why I attract so many positive vibes and gel with folks no matter how old, what profession, or where they grew up. Sincerity and generosity can lead you to meeting crazy hip-hip hygenist, mental snapshots on a roof, and a history class from the eyes and ears of a veteran taxi-driver. Want to understand a city? Talk to a bartender or cabdriver they will have the real insight, from the streets up to the media...give them a chance, an open mind, who knows what you'll find out!

Thinking About Travelling? - Start Here

While I was logging on to "The Network" at my past job, continually failing to find a working printer that would actually spit out 10 copies of an account plan (I thought I worked at a global technology company?...yeah) I had been compiling from the week before....I decided to type this phrase into the handy-dandy google search bar to see what came up, "How To Travel For Free"; little did I know these five words would be the shot of Being-True-To-Yourself syrum I had been fiending for.

I click search, awaiting the onslaught of the many pyramid schemes, "book ten of your friends and you can go too" deals, and my favorite "Do you like sex? Do you like to travel? Well then give mailto:Bob@sketchball55yearoldpromiseI a shout! But, to my surprise, Tim Peterson's "How To Travel the World For Free (Seriously) was the first link I came across...ok, I'm interested. I read through this article, took some notes, agreed with about 85% of it and then started reading the comments. The article was filled with links such as WOOF where you are able to work on organic farms in return for food and shelter, and Couchsurfing ,which is revolutionizing the way traveler's connect and communicate, while providing a legitamite/non-threatening community where both couch crashers and providers can build a repoir with one-another and link up along the road (*free place to stay).

The most interesting part of stumbling across Tim's gem was reading through the dialogue in the comments section. Here you had the outspoken gun-ho I make my own clothes out of recycled cardboard travelers, the one vacation in the summer with the kids folks, the cube dreamers, and the "whats the difference between a "vagabond" and being homeless"- questioners. This was a perfect mixing bowl that Tim had provided and instead of everyone taking turns churning up the conversation smoothly being mindful of one-another's diverse lifestyle, some nay-sayers took their electric mixer of fickle thoughts and condescending comments to the pot, and sprayed the shit all over the kitchen. It was just another great example of how some people love slamming a thought/lifestyle/motive so they can protect their ego and world they have built up around themselves to "reassure" THEY are doing the RIGHT job and these hippy travelers are a bunch of idealistic bums...they'll "grow" up...right? Other than the interesting dialogue, the comments are sprinkled with other helpful websites that allow you to travel, eat and sleep for free, as long as you are cool working 4-5 hours a DAY (four-five day work week) at the beach in St. Thomas, on a mountain in Peru, or the vineyards of Tuscany.

Long story short guys and girls, Matador Travel has given me the confidence, inspiration, and an outlet I needed to realize that there are THOUSANDS of others with my exact same mindset who share the same need I crave; To question everything and experience all. You will come across journalists who have been travelling for 20+ years and have seen almost every country , adventure travelers, photographers, guy who travels to over 100 countries and just...dances, along with vicarious viewers who are all supportive of one another and encourage you to blog about your travels and in turn, help to discover yourself. You can read through the entertaining and thought- provokin articles submitted by community members that are along the lines of: "Hostel Sex: A Practical Guide for Backpackers", "10 Things to Do in Amersterdam Besides Smoking Pot", "10 Biggest Parties in the World," and "How To Make Travel Look Good on A Resume." It takes a minute to create a profile, throw a picture up, and within a few days some of the senior editors will become your friends and virtually "show you around" the site (I got the sexxy Argentinian who thought it was funny I have the longest middle finger in the world...I think she was intrigued,horny, whatever).

Lesson Learned: When trying to print something, go to the secretary first so you don't have time to stumble across an article that could lead to you quitting your financially sound job. Wait, that wasn't it. If you are interested in travelling or want to read some adventures of getting hijacked on a train to Aztec ruins, building your own hostel/bar in the Devil's Point on the shores of Uruguay(this guy actually sent me his whole business plan after a few email exchanges, I'm telling you these people are amazing), or just stalk the pics of some college-aged cutie going through her "much deserved"-family funded "EuroTrip"...check out Matador. Who knows, maybe you'll be turning in your two weeks sooner than you thought!

Monster on Demand - Are You Fucking Kidding Me?

(This really set off a tick in me, and seeing as it relates to "employment", and a contrast to my themed site, I thought this post could find a comfortable place to nestle in the blog in case there are a few lost souls actually trying to find a job...please don't take this approach...)

Unemployment is at 10% in the United States, David Copperfield is hiding at the New York Stock Exchange magically making hard-working American's 401k's vanish before their eyes, recruitment has ceased, while the money markets and capital freeze into an iceage of insecurity...BUT never fear, Monster.com and Comcast have paired up to ensure you are now able to find a job, from the comfort of your couch!

You know what, I had to run this commerical back a few times the other night to make sure this wasnt one of those SNL parody commericials...nope this was legit. Some of you might be saying, "ahh dude what a great idea, now I can watch Entourage, smoke a blunt, crack a brick (beer), AND look for a job at the same time! Thank God I dont have to have my laptop in front of me during the Braves game to jobhunt, it was taking up way too much room on my foldout table in front of me that I use to place my microwave dinners and ashtray on. Or even better; Woman walks home from working her daycare, water-aerobics, and teaching jobs to find her husband (who was recently laid off 3 weeks ago because of a Reducition in Force) watching the Band of Brothers marathon that he just could not miss. Woman - "Damnit Frank, I'm out here working three jobs to support our family, and you're sitting on your ass, watching this Saving Private Ryan bullshit! Husband - " Oh contrare, hunny, matter of fact, I've been looking for jobs all day, look! I just use my little remote control here, scroll around, and submit a resume with a click of a button!"

This is the EXACT reason why some folks are having a tough time finding jobs, this is a depiction of what our society has become. *Let me throw a disclaimer out there to make sure that all you who are conciously sifting through every jobsite or person you know to help move you towards re-establishing a career, this blogpost is not for you, keep on it.* So many Americans today, especially generation Y/Millenials are not used to hardship. We want everything given to us, have our dream job with our dream salary and live the American Dream (I just heard the annoying theme song of "My Sweeeet Sixteeeen" ringing in my ears). We try to find excuses every day for why we lost/cant find a job. Whether it's pointing fingers at our previous employer, WallStreet, MainStreet, BackStreetBoys, The Daym Chinese, or whoever else we can find to be the scapegoat to the Animal Farm we live in today, the truth is we are pointing our fingers 180 degrees in the opposite direction.

We try to say to tell ourselves we are doing everything we can, applied to a few "internet websites," called a few old friends, or turned in a few resumes down the street. But how proactive are you truly being? I cannot tell you how many people I have spoken from my previous job alone who have friends' companies who are still hiring and cannot fill the positions! Every single person who got laid off of my job, found another in a short amount of time....aaaaaallll by being proactive, positive, and devoting hours of work each day calling every contact from the past 10 years, tweaking each resume to market themselves for each SPECIFIC opportunity, leveraging their verbage, learning all they can about the companies they are applying to, as well as referencing new press releases to show how amped they are about the direction the company is going!

Lesson Learned: You see, employers want smart, hardworking, excited, energetic, positive and proactive new hires...that's the differentiator, and employers can smell it. So tell me, how focused and strategic are you being in searching for your next career...sitting on your ass flipping through Sportscenter/Monster.com ads? Trust me, I get that this is another channel of communication, and a way for Monster to get more money for posting Ad's and Comcast...well, is a networking giant who will jump on any opportunity to diversify their services. Cheers to them, but I can just hear the kiddies now, "Shut up mom, I AM looking for a job right now! And bring me down some pizza rolls GodDammit! And one for Billy too, he's helping me decide my future!"

2 Weeks Notice Out, Moe/RatDog/PGroove In

"Well I guess we are about done here, we'll process you tomorrow." And that's how my 1.5 year tenure at NCR ended, and my step into the unknown began. Which is ironic, because that's the same response I got from our new fully automated, zero human interaction...Human Resources Department when I signed on.

I felt a quick jab to the stomach (my ego and it's materialistic, money-driven, "my job is better than yours" way of trying to check me), felt a little faint, looked around, and the quick jab was soon replaced by a Ken from StreetFighter flying fist pump/ howard dean fueled BIIIIIIYYYYAAAHHH! Finally! This ever-growing load was lifted off of my chest, a feeling of true freedom in making a very tough decision for the betterment of my future. Financially, no this was not a good idea, but at this stage in my life, I want to be paid in Experiences. My good friend Colin (colinrdeffet.blogspot.com) defined our lifestyle pretty well; we are nothing more than Experience Junkies, who fiend off of crazy concerts, new cultures, untouched landscapes, smog-ridden city centers, women from all colors of the spectrum, and ever-changing mindsets that reflect our own purpose of being...or rather our search for our purpose of being.

What better way to kick-off Tim's New Year (Ohh yeah, I'm on my own calendar now) then with some great friends from Tampa/Charlotte at a Moe/RatDog/PGroove Two day jammer in downtown Atlanta?

Friday

5:00PM: Tampanites roll to my apartment, rail reunion shots and feed off of the energy that exudes from our anticipation and genuine happiness to see each other again. I swear you can touch the aura, bottle it up and sell it on the streets as Vibes in a Vile...I'd make a killing. Anyway, the vibes are right, the pregame is on, where is our Charlottinian?

6:00PM: The Charlottinian arrives, we book a quick cab, and zoom down to the venue while I am enthralled in a convo with our cab driver about him being from the Ivory Coast, me getting tons of spam/emails from African woman pleading to give me their "fortune" in exchange for my account number, me countering their plead with "well then send me a naked picture if you trust me this much" and concludes with me never getting one...hence the scam.

7:00PM - 2:00AM: "Someone call 911, cuz these kids are KILLIN' IT!"

15:00 minute jammers blazed from both moe and PGroove, hippie chicks, Wooks, retired GratefulDead old-schoolers, blasted boys and girls all frollicked together with a sense of oneness that can only be felt from the energy and passion of a crowd that not only listenes, but morphs the music into a Movement. Late night with PGroove was upstairs at the Masquerade and was amazing how many friends and happy faces you will see here. Honestly, never in my life have I seen this much love (doesnt matter if you are sober, spun, or sore (from hours of dancing), nor experience something that makes me feel this "right" and I am reminded of my new found freedom. Is my legend to strap on a boombox, blast PGroove down I-10 and dance with passer-by's to feel the love? Maybe, but let's put that on the backburner for now.

Saturday

4:30PM: As we walk to the show, we meet up with some of our friends from our weekly kickball team, score some beers from the pregamers outside, and start getting hyped again. One experience to note...do not take a lot of liquid acid or drugs when you are by yourself, hours before the real music even starts. We saw this guy, wide-eyed, pacing back and forth grabbing his hair, tripping BOULDERS. After we tried to help him out, give him some beers, he literally poos his pants and pees twice while we are mid-convo...not much more we can do here I suppose. Ohh, and some coool sexxxy chill artist chick gave me a sweet 'Stache.

5:15PM: I find a guy walking past me with a Djembe who I met at RainDance Festival in Tampa, my rendition of "The Champ is Here" ensues. You can check out my previous performance here.

8:00PM: I think I lost my new camelpak with my wallet, money, life, freak out, run around a tent starting to accuse every single person I have made eye contact with, only to remember that at 7:58 I gave it to one of the Tampanites, woops, all is well.

10:00-2:00AM: After 8 bottles of water, tons of beer, and fun-filled festivities, we go upstairs to "Heaven" and experience another ground-shaking (literally) experience with the high-point being a rendition of "Take On Me" and smiles shared by all.

First off, Big Thanks to the Tampanites and Charlottinian for making the trip (even though the later bitched out night two and owes me 80 bux) and sharing another round of spectacular times.

Lesson Learned: Whenever life is getting too stressful, you aren't sure where you are going, and you dont know what the next step is...go to a show, break out some pots and pans- turned drumset with your buddy, write down a stupid song that rhymes and laugh out loud...we need these nuggets to remind us how priceless the gift of love, life, music, art, and community are and how strong of a force these can be with the right mindset.

Coming Soon...Ok, so I quit, what's this roadtrip all about?