I just realized the other day… I am tired of talking about things. Wait, give me a minute here: talking about things and not doing them. Take just about anything I have ever promised to do, and you will find that my once sought after objective has been lost to my own inactivity and laziness. If you’ve read my articles before, then you may have seen the bottom of the page where I talk about putting together an all Street Fighter 3: Third Strike cover band. I am… in theory. Thing about it is, I’m tired of the proposition. I can do it. Why not now? So on New Year’s Eve, I actually got other people involved, and laid out a plan. The next day I dragged out my dented Saxophone, restrung an old acoustic guitar, and got to work. If everything falls into place, I should have something by the end of this year. I will keep you posted, but it still bothers me, why did I take this long to act? The idea was a good one.
Listen: Alex and Ken Stage – Jazzy NYC ’99
My sloth doesn’t end there though. Talking is a hypnotic practice, and mostly everything sounds great when you’re at the sketching phase. The color, the direction, the focus: it’s all there when sitting somewhere comfortable and refereed by air conditioning or temperature controlled heat. I tell my friends, and acquaintances that I barely play video games. That’s 100% true. I actively engage in software adventures MAYBE twice a week. I also tell them that my plan is always to play more. This never happens, but I desperately want it to. My backlog is frightening, and as it grows, so does the temptation to stop investing in the hobby that has wrought both debt and unparalleled pleasure to the microbes of my tiny world. Playing these games is hard to do when you’re working three jobs, and have changed majors a few dozen times. Thing is, my prolonged commitment to video games dictates that my free time should be more about exploiting my readily available library of game titles and less about how I wish I could make the time to do so. Seriously…who’s the idiot here? So I pledge to play exponentially more, and promise to devote fewer hours to my lecture circuit of friends’ houses where I often find myself the biggest culprit of impassioned, hollow speeches. While I could apply this “do more” rationale to just about everything in my life, let’s start small. To productivity!
Listen: The Office/Main Theme
I remember spending New Years 1999 at a party covered in bottles of champagne. Thinking that 20 degrees was indeed not cold enough, I decided to douse myself with its contents instead of drinking them. I was just about to move to Austin; my band had just finished recording our first record, and we were just about to land a recording deal (we did… almost). Things were moving forward, and at its precipice, its jumping off point, I remember feeling accomplished and literally covered in alcohol, not drunken with it. When I had arrived, there was only a small group of midwives discussing their exploits around a bowl of chips. That is, until I turned on the music, until I begged her friends to get up and move, until I made some calls, and so the champagne poured. By 4AM the party had gotten so wild that my sister (the host) was now in dire need of a new house.
My point being this: I realize I have achieved nothing through talk, and I admit freely that I fall comatose far too often, and am an easily led, easily distracted pawn. The good thing is, I have come to find that all I need to do to effect change is to shut up. In the comments below: keep me focused and please, above all else cover my mouth.