*originally posted on myspace on 8/5/2008*

Some interesting points I reflected upon during my travels….

I was exiting the airport at San Diego, and I saw a really African family. Like Kwanzaa African. They were all wearing traditional robes and hats with their crazy triangular squares of green and yellow. The last one in line had on, over his robes, a Michael Vick jersey, worn and battered. It was just interesting noting the clash of cultures, how Americanized people become.

The first song that was played on the radio in San Diego was Can’t Stop by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. What an awesome way to start an awesome vacation. It was the first time I’ve ever heard it on a radio too.

San Diego, anywhere in California actually, is a great place to learn about new music and bands. I was introduced to new songs by Alkaline Trio, Green Day, and the Bravery that have yet to catch on back home.

I entered into a Rock Band tournament at the Con. I rounded up a bassist, vocalist and drummer who all assured me that they could play on expert, and we kicked things off. How the contest was set up was, two bands would face off against each other, each picking a song. You play your song first, then the other bands’. We started out ok, making it to the third round. After picking Wonderwall and Synchronicity II for our first two, we picked Learn To Fly and outscored our third round opponents by about 100,000. They picked The Hand That Feeds. We started out rocking hard, and right after my solo, we went into a x8 fourway Overdrive bonanza! The drummer kicked back hard for a kickass move. That’s, as they say, when things went awry. The drummer’s sticks when flying out of his hands (both of them) back into the crowd of people watching us play. Doing the natural thing, he panicked and started playing with his hands. When he started rapidly failing, he paused the game. Thus breaking the bassist’s and I’s streaks. He picked up his sticks and unpaused it, only to fail before catching his rhythm. Having just used our Overdrive, we got dominated. We ended up losing out, chronicling the greatest single F up I have ever seen from one dude. And he wasn’t even apologetic.

I went scuba diving today, and it was one of the greatest experiences ever. It was terrifying and surreal and fascinating and nausea-inducing all at once. I was totally fine until I popped up on the surface and got a mouthful of saltwater. That one gulp raged a war in my tummy with the two salami/pepperjack sandwiches I had munched down before. As soon as I got on the boat, it got all over the boat. Nasty, nasty, nasty, and I hate that the most memorable part of me scuba diving was me throwing up.

That’s all for now. I’ll blog some more when I’m back.



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