Turning 22 Is Just Like Turning 21. But Less Eventful.

"I'm not the same boy I was before. But I've not changed my desires. I've not extinguished the fires. I haven't lost wide-eyed wonder. I haven't lost the stupid fear of thunder."
- Oingo Boingo, "Same Man I Was Before"

Birthdays are an odd thing. When you're a kid, they are officially the coolest day of the year. Birthdays beat Christmas, Easter, and Halloween hands down. And it's because your birthday was the one day of the year where everything was about you, but you didn't really know--or care--why. All you knew was that you got to take treats to school, eat cake, and get money from grandparents.

But somewhere along the line birthdays stop being that really cool, super special day that you look forward to all year long and end up being an "event" that you forget about until two days before it happens. The only exception to this rule is probably the grandiose 21st BIRTHDAY EXTRAVAGANZA, because once again, it's all about you. It's about you getting plastered, you singing Poison's "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" at the top of your lungs, and you waking up in the morning missing a shoe and having your pants half off for some reason.

So what happens the year after the 21st BIRTHDAY EXTRAVAGANZA? You turn 22. You still go out to the bars and you still get more than a little plastered, but it all just lacks the flair that your 21st had. For me, maybe it's just because I was in a different part of the country without the usual ragtag group of fun-loving people to surround my shananigans...whatever it was, it just wasn't quite the same. Who knows, maybe I'm getting too old for those shananigans? Probably not, but it's always a possibility...

I did find a new favorite bar hangout. And I did have my favorite type of cake baked for me by my favorite type of girlfriend (i.e. the baking type).

So. I'm 22. What now?


This Entry In Song:
The Killers - "When You Were Young"

Be Back Soon,
Shaky Jake

Where Has All the Fame Gone?

"When I look at the stars, I see someone else."
- Switchfoot, "Stars"

HOLLYWOOD. Those big block letters sitting on top of a mountain are supposed to mean something to the casual passersby. It's supposed to stand for the giant personalities and outrageous fame contained within its city limits. So then how is it that after I have lived here for 3 months, the list of "famous" people I've encountered reads like one giant list of "huh?"

Let's analyze:

• Dian Bachar
• Kate Flannery
• John Melendez
• Craig Ferguson
• Zachary Levi
• Joshua Gomez
• Lauren Graham
• Magic Johnson

Out of all the names on that list, how many do you recognize? If your answer is anything more than 2, congratulations! You might as well be a genius. Everyone that I've ever told this short list of people to has given nearly the same response: "Huh. Cool." Add a few long seconds of silence and you've got yourself one awkward phone call. To those of you who dont' know these "famous" people I've spotted, I'll guide you along:

Dian Bachar is better known to South Park side-project enthusiasts as "Squeak" from BASEketball or "Choda Boy" from Orgazmo. Kate Flannery is "Meredith," the red-headed drunkard from the American version of The Office. John Melendez is "Stuttering John" to all Howard Stern followers. Craig Ferguson you should all know and love as the host of The Late, Late Show. Zachary Levi and Joshua Gomez are two of the main stars of "Chuck" (the former is the title character). Lauren Graham is the hot mom from Gilmore Girls and also the receiver of Billy Bob Thorton's Santa screwing in Bad Santa. And Magic Johnson is, well...Magic "f-ing" Johnson.

That long-winded explanation should not be necessary for describing the "famous" people I've seen! And that's not even a lot of "famous" people to have seen in 3 month's time! (I'd like to take a moment to apologize for putting the word famous in quotes when I talk about these people. I mean no disregard and love them all in a very non-sexual way.)

Where are all of the damn movie stars and mega-musicians at?

Dave Grohl, Dane Cook, Vince Vaughn...show yourselves!


Be Back Soon,
Shaky Jake

Adaptation Is For Suckers.

"Getting used to it when it's all so new. Getting more of it when none would do."
- Citizen Fish, "Getting Used To It"

Adaptation is the key to the survival of any species. That's about the only thing that science has ever taught me that I can still remember, but it's an important fact nonetheless. If you can't change and grow with your environment, you're bound to end up in a heap of regret and permanent nostalgia. Part of the challenge in moving out to California has been adapting, not so much to the physical landscape (warmer climate, crazier traffic, lots of orange...everywhere) as to the human interaction process.

For instance, in Iowa, if someone were to ask you to try a sample of something--let's say the Bath & Bodyworks store in the mall--and you tried it, you either A) bought that product or B) thanked them for the sample and kept moving. Out here, there seems to be far less of a chance for option B. As a matter of fact, scratch that, THERE IS NO OPTION B. Street vendors selling food, street performers selling CDs, mall kiosks offering lotions; it doesn't matter who it is, if you stop for longer than 3 seconds to answer their question, they take this is as a sign that you need to have their product. And a lot of it. I suppose this all goes along with the idea that "nothing is for free," but it can get tiring figuring out the best way to maneuver around these people. I'm still slightly clinging to my Midwestern manners in that I think altogether ignoring somebody is kind of rude. But boy does it work a lot better than trying to coerce your way out of buying something! A strong "no," an obvious look in the complete opposite direction, even a stiff-arm if need be; you do what you have to do to have your day uninterrupted.


Don't be fooled by the hot pink tights. She'll shake you down, punk.

Contrary to popular belief, a large part of the population out here is actually pretty nice. It's true. Stop gasping. Granted, as with any city, Los Angeles has its share of d-bags, a-wipes, and MF'ers, but those people you deal with by spitting in their hair after you walk past them. (Kidding, mostly.) But really, I've met some very kind, generous people since I moved. And get this, a few of them were even born AND raised in California! Who knew? So there hasn't been much adaptation needed in most social interactions. Key words: much and most.

At bars, however, the atmosphere is less relaxed than I'm used to. To me, going to a bar is a lot like hanging out at a wedding reception: get a few drinks, do a bit of dancing, maybe puke on your own shoes...it just depends on the night. No pressure.

Not so, says NoHo!

People out here don't go to bars to hang out and relax. They go to network and sell themselves. It's annoying, really. "Look guy, I don't want your business card, I just asked what your favorite shot is." I don't want to be on my A-game everytime I step foot into a drinking establishment. In fact, the very reason I go to bars is to be on my C or even D-game. And I've decided that's not going to change this year. I'm just going to have to show these Coasties how we do it in Cornland.


Pictured: Me at my D-game.

Maybe this should be an experiment? Let's see how I survive in California with the least amount of adaptation possible.

This Entry In Song:
Antennas - "Adapt!"
Lostprophets - "We Still Kill the Old Way"


Be Back Soon,
Shaky Jake