Archive for category Family
I moved from Texas to Tennessee going on five years now. And the more I live here the more it beings to become home. It’s not a bad thing; it’s just an adjustment that you have to get use to. But I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t had been a slacker in school. I didn’t really care about school; I thought there were so much more important things out there for me. Ever since I was six years old I started playing the drums. I knew in the back of my head that that’s what I was supposed to be doing. When you start to think about things in life and how God has blessed you, you start to realize that the blessing was there all along. You just have to find the right path to get that blessing, because God knows the path you’re supposed to go down, it’s your choice rather you choose that path or not. Makes me wonder if I chose the drums or did the drums choose me?
Now seventeen years later, I play drums professionally for my band Alvarado Road Show. We’ve done a lot of great things since we’ve moved to Tennessee. Met a lot of cool, crazy, weird people, but it has been the best thing that has ever happen to me. God has blessed me in a way that has changed my life forever. I couldn’t have done it without Him.
Lesson here is: Let God take control.
Until next time…
A couple of days ago I rented 127 hours. His character in a small way reminded me of Emile Hursh character in Into the Wild. Had that same ambition to find something he was looking for. It was an unbelievable movie. I loved how it was really about how awful of a person he saw himself and that made him see myself from the outside looking in. I just don’t know what I would do in that situation. I say to myself that I could probably cut my own arm off. But actually being in that situation and watching what he had to go through to survive, I don’t think I would have that will power. But then again I have never been in a life or death situation before. I honestly can tell you that I have no earthly idea what I would do.
Question here is: What would you do? How far would you go to survive?
Until next time…
Lately I’ve been thinking about how long I’ve been away from home, it’s really weird that its been nine years since I’ve lived with my parents. Not saying it’s a bad thing, I just remember like it was yesterday. Doesn’t seem like it was nine years ago my brothers and I were playing outside together acting stupid. It’s funny how when you’re a kid you don’t think about time and that you won’t get that time back until you’re older and it’s gone before you know it. Makes you wish you could go back and have the same mindset you have now and have a way to slow time down so you can cherish the moments you have because once their gone their gone forever.
When I visited my parents not to long ago, I started to feel something different. Not like I was a guest in their house, but like it’s been so long since I’ve lived there that now there’s a totally different outlook on it. I don’t know if its because I’m an adult now and I see what I didn’t see then or that the fact that things have changed and it does feel different to the point I forget where things are. My old room is still their, but it’s not their (if that makes any sense) it’s still my room, I still sleep in it when I’m home, but it’s not really my room anymore, almost like the room has moved on as well.
I like going home to see my parents, it’s a lot of fun to hang out and watch the ball game with my Dad. I enjoy going to thrift stores with my Mom, she’s the best. I was born and raise in the great state of Texas. There is absolutely nothing like it and anyone who’s born there or has lived there for some time will agree with me that Texas is the best place to be.
Until next time…
So it has been awhile since I’ve wrote on here and for the people that do keep up with my blogs, I do apologies to you. The reasons why I haven’t written anything in awhile is because, I’ve actually been hired to write a television series. I’ve been hammering my brain for the past couple of weeks because I have a deadline and it was short. So it has been nothing but writing, writing, writing, all day everyday. I finished it and turned it in, now we have some major companies looking at it. I’m hoping someone picks it up and gives us a budget to shoot the pilot. I’m also a producer, so I’m having to go over things that have nothing to do with writing at all, but it’s so much fun.
This is not the reason for this blog though. My birthday was two days ago, I turned twenty-three and I feel no different. I guess that’s how it goes though when you get older, you never feel it until your body starts to do weird things and then you look in the mirror and you’re like what the hell. That’s why Dad’s getting so depressed when they turn fifty because they’re body is getting older and they actually feel a change, but until then it’s not going to feel like anything.
A really good friend of mine sent me a text message on the night of my birthday and asked me if it was good day. I started to think about that, not about that particular day, but about how my life as changed in a year. I thought about everything I’ve accomplished and the great things that have came into my life. I finished filming a movie called “Firebird” right before Thanksgiving, which was a great experience and the money was beautiful. I got a new drum cymbal endorsement with a great company called “Supernatural Cymbals” they are amazing. My Mom drove seventeen hours from Texas in the ice to spend time with me on my birthday. I got hired to write a television series and produce it and I’ve heard great things so far so fingers crossed. And last but defiantly not least; I’ve made a great friendship with a very talented writer, she’s a wonderful person, she has helped me write this television series and has came up with some unbelievable stuff. We make a great team and I can’t wait to see what the future holds in all of this.
So yeah, my birthday went really great.
A father passing his son’s bedroom was astonished to see the bed was nicely made, and everything was picked up. Then, he saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow. It was addressed to, “Dad.” With the worst premonition, he opened the envelope and read the letter, with trembling hands. “Dear Dad, it is with great regret and sorrow that I’m writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Mom and you. I’ve been finding real passion with Stacy, and she is so nice, but I knew you would not approve of her, because of all her piercings,tattoos, her tight motorcycle clothes, and because she is so much older than I am. But it’s not only the passion, Dad, she’s pregnant. Stacy said that we will be very happy. She owns a trailer in the woods, and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children. Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn’t really hurt anyone. We’ll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with people in the community, for all the cocaine and ecstasy we want. In the meantime, we’ll pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She sure deserves it!! Don’t worry, Dad I’m 15, I know how to take care of myself. Someday, I’m sure we’ll be back to visit, so you can get to know your grandchildren. Love, you Son.
P.S. Dad, none of the above is true, I’m over at Tommy’s house. I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than a report card that’s in my center desk drawer. I love you! Call when its safe for me to come home.
I was telling someone the other day that my Grandpa has passed away on Valentine day of last year. He was a different type of people, some may say he was a class act or different character, but he was a hard worker and told you what he thought. Some people didn’t like that, some brushed it off because it didn’t matter to them anyway. I for one never felt like it was that way in our relationship. I knew and remember my Grandpa like I wanted to, not how everyone else portrayed him to be. He was funny, told me once that, “If you pee on a city building, your pee sinks down into peoples drinks in the restaurant”. He always knew how to make us laugh even though it made no sense at all.
At the viewing, I don’t normally like going up to a dead body because I don’t know if I want to remember them looking that way. As I walked up to the casket, each step I take getting louder and louder, I looked over and saw my Grandpa lying there, wearing a suit and tie, looking pretty sharp. But he didn’t look like him. I don’t know if that’s normal but he looked like someone else. All my emotions didn’t react like I thought it would. I didn’t cry, I didn’t feel anything, I guess I was more curious of why he was wearing a suit because he never wore a suit.
At the funeral, you’re basically having a family reunion. Seeing all your relatives you either haven’t seen in years or you’ve never seen at all. Trying to find the right words to say to them because you don’t know how they fit into the family, but you should know because your part of the family and you’ll look like an idiot if you don’t. And then you have family that won’t even talk to you, they just eye-ball you from across the room like you a Russian spy getting ready for a massive attack of destruction. But knowing me, I brushed up on my acting skills and acted like I was from Russia, trying to recruit some fresh meat to join my force.
When the service started I became as real as a person could be. My Grandpa didn’t want someone preaching him to heaven. Why? I’ll never understand. He wanted a jam session of songs and people he loved to hear play. I played guitar, because I didn’t want to be behind a drum set if my Mom needed me. We had five other people on stage playing songs he loved to hear. When all friends went up to see him and it was the families turn. I turned and saw my Mom stand up to get out of her seat, she was crying, which makes me cry shaking her head no like she didn’t want to see him. So I walked up to see my Grandpa one last time. But something was different then the visitation, I saw him totally different. Something came over me and I begin to cry more than I have ever cried before. I couldn’t hold it back either. I just cried. My brothers quickly rushed over and hugged up against me. It was a weird feeling, because I’m staring at him one minute with no emotion whatsoever, then the next I’m saying good-bye to him five hours later. Why wasn’t I like that when I first saw him lying there?
The only thing I can come up with is, because it was the last time I was ever going to see him.