A Wrinkle in My Parachute

When you are part of an organization, or a group, or a party, or any social scene, you are automatically lumped into feeling the same way and thinking the same things as the rest. Unless you happen to be a psychological egoist or an ethical egoist (how I hate you Ayn Rand), you'll agree that the one does not speak for the many.

My band recently went through a member leaving at a very difficult time. Close to recording, playing 2 important shows, and not to mention leaving no way out of having to pay her portion of the rent, this was obviously a badly timed departure. Feelings were hurt, accusations were made, and the past was re-thought....on both sides.

A recent bulletin on MySpace made by my band took a pedantic approach at resolving the hurt that was felt. Rather than deal with the issue in an ethical manner, or even a manner espoused by the religious beliefs of the rest of the band, low blows were aimed at the departed member of the band. Attacks on her sanity, religion, etc, were made.

I had nothing to do with this.

"But...an eye for an eye" was given as defense of said actions. Too bad that statement was part of a theocracy and used wholly in the case of murder.

No matter how badly I am hurt, and yes, I have been hurt to the point at which it seemed beyond belief, I am willing to forgive and attempt to see the other side. Does this excuse behavior that goes against friendship and ethics? No, of course not. Does this mean that I pretend nothing happened and let it happen again? No, of course not. It does, however, mean that I do my very best to not sink to the level (or lower than the level) that the accused has reportedly sunk to.

Understand...this is not an attack on the rest of my band. This is not a disgruntled stab trying to undermine said recent actions. I am very uncomfortable, though, having anyone think that I had anything to do with that recent bulletin.

I love the rest of my band. They have become like family. I also love the member who recently left. I have made mistakes big enough to leave me friendless. Thank God my friends were able to look past my atrocities and see the real me that lurked behind my deplorable behavior.

Friends and Tow Trucks

Grant the Hermit has recently emerged from his solitary studies in order to commune with the real world. Wait...hold it...no, hang on, it's not like this is going to become a common thing here. It's just that school right now is at about level 3 in hardness. Level three allows me to get out every now and then for a night of shenanigans. School will soon, however, be amped up to about level 62. If level 3 is hard enough that I can only get out once every week or so...I'll let you do the math to figure out how often I will be going out once said higher level is reached.

Outing 1: LA with AC, AH, and KW

Sadly no pictures were taken, and most of the night must be kept in strict secrecy, but I can tell you that the night included getting lost on the 91 (I wasn't even NEAR the car at this time so don't even try to blame me), flirting with the ticket-taker in order to sneak in an underage concert-goer, getting a shot of water for $8.50, homemade sandwiches in a fogged up car, drunk dialing (once more, don't even try to blame me for these), and some creepy guy pounding on our car as we sped out of our illegal parking spot.

All in all a great night.

Oh, there was also a street fight with chocolate hearts.


Random Interlude: The Tow Truck Dilemma

As I watched a tow truck do it's thing today...well, more so a tow truck driver do his thing with his tow truck...that is, do his thing to a car with his tow truck (is this sounded wrong to anyone else?) a thought came to my head. What happens when a tow truck breaks down?

Well, obviously they have bigger tow trucks to tow the broken down tow trucks.

I was even informed that they have massive big rig tow trucks for when semi-trucks break down.

BUT...what happens when THOSE tow trucks break down?

They'll have to build an even BIGGER tow truck to tow that tow truck. But what happens when THAT tow truck breaks down? We're stuck in an infinite regress of building bigger tow trucks in order to tow the slightly smaller tow trucks and we'll just have to keep building bigger and bigger tow trucks till we cover the planet in giant tow trucks.

Oh man...we're screwed.


Outing 2: Bowling with Aro and Keika

You're in luck...there ARE pictures of this event!


We started the night by getting a lane, getting some shoes, and getting some pictures



Aro and I threw our gangsta faces, which if our last couple outings can be anything to judge by, we do quite often



Christina showed her objection to our gangsta-ness





At various points during the night we all got strikes!


And at various other points in the night, inappropriate pictures were taken



(are my pants unbuttoned?)



I bowled my hardest... (who is that girl?)



...and then did my best Scott Stapp impression



Aro was attacked by a shoe...but he fought back valiently



And Christina and I unvaliently stared

The undocumented portion of the night included Friday's, attempts at stealing giant packs of napkins, and leaving a note telling out waitress to call us and putting Ed's phone number.


conclusion

I have awesome friends. Awesome friends who hopefully won't hate me when I am too bogged down with philosophy to go out and have fun bowling and skating and ripping off tree branches and getting lost. I love all you guys!


p.s. To get another version of the night, you can hit up Keika's site

A History of Valentine's Days

I'm too tired to think of anything witty so I'm resorting to the Boy Meets World flashback episode style blog. Here are my last couple V-Days and the reckoning that took place on each day of prescribed love:

V-DAY '01

I started writing in my second journal ever. I had my first girlfriend so I made this a celebration like none other.

Every class she went to had either a red rose and a handwritten note/poem or a mini box of chocolate and a handwritten note/poem waiting for her. A huge bouquet of flowers was waiting for her at her house when she got home.

Then she somehow misconstrued my attempt at romanticism and we broke up for the first of many many times.


V-DAY '02

I wore all black and cut a red heart out of cardboard and pinned it upside down to my shirt. I walked around campus and went to all my classes like this.

"...if the card companies tell you love is buying something from Hallmark with a pre-written poem...then that must be love. And if the candy companies tell you that buying expensive boxes of chocolates is love...then that must be love. And if the flower companies tell you that flower arrangements that cost nearly a hundred dollars which will last a week at most are love...then that must be love. But I look around at this grotesque display of corporate control and I shake my head. That's not love. Love is a handwritten poem straight from the heart. Love is sharing fast food at midnight in a park. Love is that laughter that nobody else can bring out in you. Love is not being able to sleep because you don't want to look away from their face. Love is knowing...not thinking...knowing that somebody is right for you."


V-DAY '03

I bought my second girlfriend ever a dress from Betsy Johnson and surprised her with dinner reservations at Orange Hill. We ate dinner while watching the sun set from the top of a hill with a beautiful view.


V-DAY '04

A post from my blog that day. Oddly enough, somehow some of the exclamation points turned into question marks. I didn't write that to begin with. My website was trying to tell me something:

"By the way...I changed Valentine's Day to Love Day? because I still wanted to do stuff but not because Hallmark tells me to. So I made a new holiday. You guys can still celebrate the bloody past and dreary present of Valentine's Day while I celebrate a day that has allot more meaning to me. And I don't even have to buy a Happy Love Day? card! Or chocolate! I'm tellin' you guys...make the switch. Boycott Valentine's Day and make your own cards and never even SAY Valentine's Day. Just a "Happy Love Day?" will do just fine.

HAPPY LOVE DAY?!"


V-DAY '05

There is no written record of what I did for this day of Valentines. It shall remain shrouded in mystery forever.


V-DAY '06

The details thereof remain to be seen, but so far it's looking like class, more class, maybe working out, and then possibly getting ice cream with a friend. Woo!

A Recent Comment...(you guys know I love this)


What's with all the emo boys these days.

Musicians used to be men.

Clint | 02.07.06 - 12:15 am


Yeah, seriously Clint, I miss the days when musicians used to be men. Like the 70's when they wore tights, makeup, and had hair longer than most girls today. And we can't forget the high-pitched voices they sang in.

Or the 80's when male goth bands wouldn't go anywhere without their makeup.

And gosh, Clint, I totally know what you mean. I should really be less emo. I mean my dyed black emo hairstyle that hangs into my eyes, my square-cut/horn-rim glasses, my tight sweaters, and we can't forget that I NEVER smile. Ever.

Do you even know what emo is? It stands for emotive rock and has nothing to do with whatever it is you're sadly attempting to accuse me of.

Next time at least insult me in a creative way that I can appreciate.

xoxo, Grant

Paratroopers Visit B.B.King's

A huge thank you to all who came to our last show. Everything went great and we'll most likely be back for our third visit sometime soon. In the meantime, visit my slideshow of the glorious evening:



Click HERE for the seedy underworld of Parachutes full of mystery, intrigue, blood, and chili cheeseburgers.