Irony on the rocks with a twist...

Recently, I had the opportunity to take a long car trip with my step-father. On this car trip, I had a portable MP3 player plugged into the tape deck. This is a man whose life has been centered on hard work, cold beers, and music. The way he says it, “...Music is how we mark time in our lives.” I have come to appreciate this greatly on my own personal journey through life. We all remember the “big hits” the year we graduated from high school. My step-father plays the kinds of music that speaks of working hard, and playing hard; the kinds of tunes that tell a story. Most of what he listens to would be considered “oldies” by today’s standards, but that does not detract from the fact that many are among the standards in my own musical tastes as well. Bands like Credence Clearwater Revival, John B. Sebastian and the Lovin’ Spoonful, The Hollies, Canned Heat, and Simon and Garfunkel, just to name a few.

My love of music goes back to my own father as well. My grandmother instilled a love of music that caught fire in each of her children and extended down to her grandchildren as well. My father played the trombone, the drums, and the guitar. I found that I didn’t have the patience for an instrument, but I had enough understanding to sing by ear (I still can’t read music to save my life). Most of my schooling in music came from participating in choir. I remember a visit to my Uncle Tom’s house where he played a recording of Scott Joplin’s The Entertainer. I was all of three years old at the time. Ironically enough, my grandmother and I shared a love of Mozart that I would not learn about until her death in 1997.

Yes, I believe we do mark time with music. It fills us with hope when we are down, it gives us strength when we feel weak, and it inspires us to push forward when we feel we haven’t got anything left to push with. I remember the day I finished the last assignment of the last day of my undergrad like it was yesterday. I went to my room and played Peter Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture and drank a beer (with many beers to follow later on). I am the first person (on my mother’s side) in my generation to earn a college degree. I felt like there wasn’t anything I couldn’t do; just as the Russians must have felt when the dreaded Russian Winter drove Napoleon’s invasion army from their country after it had conquered most of Europe.

Through everything I have been through, there is a song, like a precious stone I have collected, that defines the moment. I can look back at where I was at any time and find a song that represents how I felt, what I was thinking, and where I was going. Some of them happened to be a hit at that time, others were “gems” I just happened to discover then. No matter what I might be doing, whether it is painful or fun, music has gotten me through it. I even have a song picked out for the day I die: the original Dobie Gray recording of Drift Away. I don’t think its macabre, just something that I have decided to be appropriate.

I love all kinds of music, from blues, to jazz, to rock and roll, to pop, and all forms of classical. I can get excited about a John Henry Bonham drum solo just as easily as a Frederic Chopin piano solo. A special on John Coletrane or Howlin’ Wolf can transfix me like a deer in headlights. I find myself keeping time with the music, thumping my hand against the couch in rhythm. I listen to the powerfully belted out poetry of Melissa Etheridge and I cannot imagine how one person can possibly contain so much passion and artistry. Melissa is battling breast cancer at the moment, if you would like to send her a message of support, or donate to her chosen charity on her behalf you may do so by clicking here.

I think about how we mark time with music as my life is about to take another unexpected turn, not for the better or worse, but just the kinds of things that happen every day, but we never imagine they will. I consider life to be an adventure and music is how we mark the time of that adventure. As I embark on yet a new aspect of my adventure, my music is with me. My personal “Song of Songs” plays out within me as if it were broadcast over all the FM stations. The essence of every living creature on this earth can be summed up by music of one sort or another. As I am marking time with my music, so are each of you with yours. Find your tune and let it resonate within you no matter where life takes you.

TANSTAAFL!

©2004, J.S.Brown

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I have been married for 5 years. In that time, my wife and I have had only bits and pieces of a year as a married couple. The rest of the time, my Mother-in-Law, Anna has been living with us. Anna is a great help around the house. She cooks, she cleans, she takes care of her portion of the expenses, and she has given much to make our house a better place to live. She paid for a pool and helped us refinance our mortgage, and to protect her investment, she has had her name put on the deed to the house. In other words, she bought her way into our lives. Mary only left Anna to marry me (at the age of 28), until then, she had lived her entire life with her mother.

Most of the time, these living arrangements do not bother me in the least. Then there are the times when Anna has some objection to something I’ve done (or not done), that according to her rules and specifications, is wrong. Since this does not happen all the time, I have to assume she is biting her tongue until something just drives her over the edge, and she just has to say something. The problem with this is that my reaction to her judgments and criticisms varies greatly depending on many factors. If I am well rested, medicated, and generally content, I can easily dismiss her criticisms. When I am not, I respond to her by getting very defensive and vocal. We can go long stretches of time without a major “blow up,” but when one happens, I become a “non-person” in the house. Anna won’t talk to me and neither will Mary.

My Mother-in-Law has worked to drive a wedge between me and my wife since I can remember. She has interfered with our marriage and she has insinuated herself in such a way that it is next to impossible to imagine how three people can live together. She seems resentful about my wife and I having time together. I think she would rather have Mary all to herself like it used to be. Mary will not be able to handle the estrangement of her two favorite people. Her loyalties are torn, yet she told me from day one that if it came down to a choice between me or her mother, I would not be her choice. I committed myself anyway. I didn’t realize when I asked Mary to be my wife that I was really asking to marry both her and her mother.

Mary is the baby of the family. When Anna’s mother died, she was terribly depressed about it. Her doctor suggested she have another baby, so she did. She named her daughter after her late mother. Mary grew up to be the one who tried her best to please everyone, and do as she was told. She never questioned her mother. As a result, Mary has spent her life emulating her mother in order to please her and never really given much thought to finding out who she really is. Because she was the baby and was sheltered her whole life, Mary has great difficulty making decisions on her own. She wants every decision she makes to be the one that will make everyone happy, but often this is unrealistic. Anna has so conditioned and controlled Mary; that she has great difficulty operating outside of a very narrow environment.

Mary has been molded by her mother to be Anna’s idea of “the perfect daughter” in every respect. Mary is ambitious, hard working, dependable, and persistent. There is no action in Mary’s life that is not part of a greater plan. Mary believes that her well-being, happiness, and health are worth sacrificing so long as she is perceived as hard working. She holds a job, has decent credit, and pays her bills on time. As long as she can do this, she feels others will view her as “normal,” but she pays such a tremendous price to maintain this image. Her physical health has declined severely. Her mental and emotional stability are questionable, and she is not happy. My presence has provided her with a built-in excuse to blame her unhappiness on. As long as she can blame me for her sadness, she never has to look at what is really going on in her life. She never has to face the fact that she is an “empty shell” of a person totally driven to please Anna and others, even if it means sacrificing herself to do it.

Both Mary and Anna live by routines that vary little. There is no part of the house that does not have a clock. They seem to schedule and plan everything. Anna is meticulous to the point of obsession. Mary has learned to let things go somewhat, but Anna tries her best not to let that happen. Anna has resumed the role she played so well back East. She tends to Mary’s needs as if Mary was still a little girl, and Mary accepts it willingly, because she’s never known anything else. Anna has staked all her self-worth on how well she takes care of others. She and her husband were estranged for most of the 37 years they were married, so being a “caregiver” was all Anna had. Within a year of our getting married and moving from Western Pennsylvania to Nevada, Anna sold her house because she had nobody left to take care of.

Anna and Mary share another attribute: they take offense very easily and both are emotionally difficult. The smallest of actions by others is liable to be taken deeply and personally regardless of the intent by that person. I have seen both of them end friendships and associations based upon mere misunderstandings. To them, they are “deal breakers.” During the course of our relationships, we three have argued and reconciled dozens of times only to have the same issues creep up again. After the last big “blowout,” we all agreed to go to group therapy to try and straighten out our issues, however, this rapidly turned into a “bash Jeff” session, which produced nothing of any value for anyone there. The therapist recommended Mary and I meet without Anna for the next session, so we did. This session ended up being more about Mary and my marriage than the difficulties between Anna and me. By the next session, another “blowout” had occurred in which I overreacted and became defensive when both Anna and Mary got on my case. Mary was ready to divorce me and did not want anything to do with me. Both use their silence as a weapon, and both took my ambivalence to mean I did not care. I have always heard the old adage: “respect your elders,” and I have tried hard to live by it, however, I also happen to believe respect is earned, and when I am not respected by someone, how can I respect them?

They say that the things we judge and criticize about others are a direct reflection of our own flaws and failings. We see these things in others that we cannot accept about ourselves. I feel as though someone has kicked me in the stomach, hard. I cannot see how this can work out. Anna has succeeded in driving us apart and Mary cannot accept that fact. She will remain loyal to her mother even if it means the end of our marriage. She will betray herself and become a sad and lonely schoolmarm rather than betray Anna.

As for my biggest contribution to this “Soap Opera,” I have a well-established pattern of spotty employment. I have been working towards mending my ways and focusing in on a career, but the only kinds of jobs I’ve found in my field are temporary contracts that do not guarantee me 40 hours a week or benefits of any kind. I have hesitated to take any work outside my field for fear it will hurt my chances of establishing myself. I have gone back to school to pursue a master’s degree to increase my earning power. I am looking to get further training and certification to advance myself. In the meantime, I should be working somewhere, anywhere, but when I try to get work, my education and background becomes a hindrance. I am overqualified, and why would someone with my kind of training need to take any sort of job outside my field unless I was trouble?

I tried to be a teacher, but found myself unable to cope with the paperwork, the politics, and the feeling that the administration was more interested in covering their own asses than covering mine. A parent would complain about something and the administrators would cave to that parent’s demands. I made several mistakes, including making inappropriate comments to a student. I believe I was driven to this sort of lack of judgment by being constantly scrutinized and penalized for every mistake I made. Being so intensely scrutinized caused me to have a mental and emotional breakdown by the middle of that school year. I was a basket case for most of that year. Perhaps I am not well suited to public school teaching, but after spending five years of my life training to be a teacher, it is a hard thing to accept.

Since failing at my chosen vocation, I have centered my attention on computers and computer support. I have done helpdesk work and I have done field technical work. Most recently, I worked a year as more of an application support specialist, assisting in the transition from legacy COBOL driven software to newer windows-based software. In each of my positions, I showed great skill, creativity, problem solving, ingenuity, and an utter lack of respect for authority. Eventually this lack of respect would cause me problems with my employers. I tend to be too interested in doing what I think is best rather than what is best according to those who employ me. I seem to think that I know better than they do when I do not have all the information, nor do I know how “the game” is played at that site.

Another of my flaws includes not being an attentive cleaner. I do not feel a need to scrub everything, nor do I pick up every errant item that might be lying around. I clean my personal office about once every three months and usually toss out about two big garbage bags of papers and other junk that has accumulated. Both of them see anything out of place as “clutter,” and they find it impossible that anyone else might miss it. I do not like to clean. I find it monotonous and boring. I do it when I must, but I will never spend the time and effort they spend on it.

Perhaps Anna truly does want the best for her daughter. Perhaps she does not see me as the best because I am not as responsible or hard working as Mary. There is no doubt that I have flaws. There is no doubt that I have failed to provide for my wife in a way that I am satisfied with. In the 5 years we have been married, the longest I’ve held the same job is 13 months. Of course every job I’ve had since leaving teaching has been a contract job where I have had no guarantee of permanent employment. I am at the whims of the company that employs my contract. They can decide at any time to terminate it without reason. This seems to be the nature of the kind of work I am doing, but it is just so hard to live with. In the past 5 years, I have been fired from 2 jobs, and either been laid off, or had my contract terminated from 5 others. In that time, I’ve left two jobs voluntarily to take better ones; I was eventually fired from both.

I suffer from AD/HD and Bipolar Disorder. My moods are very volatile and unpredictable, however, I am not a danger to myself or others, especially when I take my medication. Occasionally, I forget to take my meds, and this can lead to disaster. Anna has a tendency to make every negative judgment she makes seem harsh and overly critical. When I am not centered, I do not respond well to this (that disdain for authority I suppose). This has caused great difficulties. As I said, this last incident was an overreaction on my part, but it served a purpose for Anna. She has declared after three sessions (only one of which did she attend) that the therapy isn’t working and that Mary is wasting her money. She wants nothing more to do with it. Why isn’t the therapy working? Because it has failed to “fix me,” which is the only problem in this whole affair. They aren’t the problem; they don’t have issues or baggage from the past, only I do. Everything would be peachy if only I would adjust my attitude to better match theirs.

This past week I went away to see my family back East. I hadn’t seen them in over 2 years. I hadn’t been back to the area Mary and I grew up for more than 4 years. It was a freedom I hadn’t felt in some time to be away from this. I did miss my wife, but I didn’t miss the awkward situation I have allowed myself to be placed in. Coming back to it was a mixture of eagerness to be home and dread to be stuck there. To make matters worse, in the shuffle of bags, I managed to “lose” my laptop, along with a lot of CD’s and accessories. I don’t think I’ll be seeing that again.

I attempted to discuss and reason with Anna. I really wanted to work things out. She does not wish to reconcile our differences. I tried to tell her that we really had to talk it out, for the betterment of Mary. This infuriated her to the point of using curses and anger towards me. She is tired of trying to understand and get along with me. She accuses me of being verbally abusive towards her. She even said she filed a report concerning my abusive behavior and that she could call the cops and have me removed if she wanted to. She even told me that Mary doesn’t want me here anymore either. She says I should leave because her name is on the deed instead of mine. I have contributed nothing to our house and she has contributed everything. I am holding Mary back because I am a no good bum. She thinks I should have stayed back East with my family since nobody wants me here and I can’t hold a job. The whole thing degenerated into an argument concerning whose family doesn’t want whom. It didn’t take Anna long to start cussing and cursing at me, the very same “verbal abuse” she accused me of. She even threw an onion at me. The ugliness of this thing I have been a participant in is beyond redemption. If Anna and I cannot live together peacefully, it may well spell doom for my marriage, (which may well have been doomed from the start). I can’t imagine any other man who would put up with the kind of interference Anna has put me through, but perhaps it is time for me to move out of the way and let someone else try.

Mary came home from work and Anna was not far behind her. Before long Anna was demonstrating all the nastiness she could think of. She told an extremely biased version of what happened (knowing full-well that Mary will believe her) and called me a liar. I defended myself for a moment and then, seeing the futility, walked away. She kept bitching for some time afterwards. Mary tried to reason with us and ask me why and mediate, just like always, and I told her not to bother because I would leave so they could be married to each other. I am obviously the “third wheel” here. I am in the way of their relationship, so I must get out of the way. I am so sick of this whole thing but it really does hurt to think that my marriage is over because my wife would choose her mother over the vows she made to me. Anna was cussing and cursing me to no end the whole time. At least this time I had the presence of mind not to respond in kind.

I really love my wife. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, but I can’t remain in a three-way marriage, and there is no way Anna is going anywhere. Mary will cut her nose off to spite her face before that will ever happen. She will, once again, sacrifice herself so that her mother is happy, and her mother will keep on doing what she’s always done. Just another big unhappy codependent family that has gotten so good at deceiving everyone else that they now regularly deceive themselves. It breaks my heart to think that this is the end, that Anna has won and Mary and I have to lose. I was the child of a divorce and I hate to give up on a marriage just because certain people can’t (or won’t) let go, or change, but what am I to do? I have painted myself into a corner I don’t know how to get out of. I do not have the funds to just “walk away.” My father is in a similar situation with his partner. He hasn’t the resources to be on his own, so he is at her mercy (which isn’t much).

The tragedy here is that I can see underneath the shallow surface of Anna’s dark imprint upon Mary’s soul. I see the amazing woman she could be if things were different. Mary is full of passion and creativity; she has the wonder of a child, the beauty of an angel, and the strength of ten men. Her life has driven these things deep underground, but they are still there, waiting for the endless winter to pass; and the spring to arrive and let them bloom. I just wish I could be there to see it. I just hope Mary will be.

TANSTAAFL!

© 2004, J.S.Brown

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I never heard of him until I heard one of his works. Maurice Ravel is a composer born in the late 19th Century. Why his works remain unremarkable is a mystery to me. Listening to Bolero alone, I am mystified by his subtle genius. It is the same theme, played over and over again in increasing volume with more emphasis. The first is a drum beat, then a flute, then a clarinet, followed by a horn, and so on. As each different instrument picks up the tune, more join in to accompany it. The song goes on for more than 14 minutes repeating the same basic musical theme, but each rendition is different. I have the song on MP3, I could listen to it repeatedly. It is the song that allows me to finally “get” music. It is a metaphor for life, a repetitious march of routine that is carried out differently each and every time. That is the whole point of having a different instrument pick up the theme. It is inspiring and thrilling to find a piece of art that so defines one’s existence as to make them rejoice no matter what. This song does this for me. I would hope Maurice Ravel would approve.

TANSTAAFL!

© 2004, J.S.Brown

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I remember the “good old days” when Doom was a free download from the Internet. Everyone I knew was playing it. It was a great game for taking out frustrations on: go blow away a few demons and everything seemed right with the world again. It beats the heck out of solitaire.

Doom was a pioneer in the world of FPS (First Person Shooters), it set the stage for so many more. A version of Castle Wolfenstein would be made using the Doom engine. Games like Quake and Unreal began to show up on the scene. It wasn’t long before we saw a game very close to the Doom premise called Half Life. Slightly more obscure, (but with a very vocal fan base) is the System Shock series. Most of these games owe something to Doom for setting the stage.

The Doom saga was recently resurrected with the much anticipated release of Doom 3. In this updated installment of the game, the player is immersed in a fully loaded back story and game world that is far more fleshed out than ever before. We see our stalwart Marine as he is stationed to a research facility on Mars, where the discovery of ancient ruins has led to scientific breakthroughs in teleportation. The problem? Teleporting doesn’t seem to set well with the test subjects. Repeated exposure seems to create a sense of dementia and fear among them, and then there are the accidents...so many accidents that droves of personnel are requesting transfers out of Mars.

On the transport with our main character is an officer representing the Board of Directors for the research facility along with his bodyguard. They have been dispatched to discover the cause of the recent accidents and requests for transfers. They have no idea what awaits them.

Our main character is indoctrinated and assigned to an older portion of the station, where one of the research team has gone missing. His orders are to find and return this individual, but just as it seems his mission is accomplished, a wave of energy comes spiraling out of the super secret Delta Labs; with it comes a nightmarish horror host of demonic creatures. People are snatched up and “possessed,” becoming zombies that feed on all that lives. Others are rent limb from limb. All hell breaks loose and the overwhelmed Marine security detachment is the first to combat the hoards, and the first to fall victim to it. Suddenly, the man our hero is sent to bring back attacks him, and he must kill or be killed. The rules have changed, now it is up to him to survive long enough to beat back this demonic invasion, lest it consume all of Mars and then...Earth.

The storyline is everything Doom should be. Of course it does not vary much from the original premise, but this is quickly forgotten in the intense game play, the puzzles, and the frightening shadows that conceal enemies from your view. Perhaps the only disappointment with Doom 3 is the puzzling decision to make it so the flashlight and weapons cannot be held simultaneously, something modern police and soldiers have been able to do for some time (I am certain someone on the design team must have known that modern weapons often include mounts for flashlights built right in, and failing this, night vision goggles are pretty much standard military issue these days). While this is a minor annoyance, it does not seriously detract from the gameplay or the effects, which are pretty stunning. The absolute popularity of the game series has already led to a "duct tape" mod, which attaches the flashlight to the gun so both can be used at the same time. The game plays out like any sci-fi horror movie should. The main character must find his way through a maze, battling hellish demonic creatures bent on stopping him, solving puzzles, getting around obstacles, and collecting ever more powerful weaponry, security codes, and access keys.

The designers seemed to have the original in mind when making this version. The game holds true to its predecessors, the arsenal of weapons is extremely familiar, with only one new weapon to add to the list. The monsters pop out from behind hidden panels, and the exits to the next level are essentially the same as the original. Scattered throughout the game are security lockers locked with combination codes that can only be discovered by collecting various PDA’s, which also provide the player with increased security access and information vital to the solution of the game. The PDA’s even have E-mail spam. There are plenty of “Easter Eggs” strewn throughout the game as well.

There is one major disappointment to this version of Doom: multiplayer is severely limited. It is obvious to me that the game designers chose to concentrate their efforts on making the single-player experience as exciting as possible, and this they achieved, but to neglect multiplayer is pretty huge in this age of online everything. I have to say that I am grateful there are still designers out there willing to put PC games out there when so many others are defecting to the world of consoles, but none-the-less, many die-hard gamers will feel Doom 3 is incomplete without a multiplayer that closely rivals its single-player experience.

Doom 3 is an experience that I am certain every battle-hardened Doom fan will want to own and play many times. The increased emphasis on storyline is much appreciated, as is the need for the player to think carefully, solve problems, and, of course, blow demons away. While the game suffers from some minor drawbacks and flaws, it manages to make up for them in the total experience.

And if anyone was wondering, yes, they are making a movie based on Doom, starring The Rock (Dwayne Johnson) as our hero is slated for release Summer '05. More about the upcoming Doom Movie.

TANSTAAFL!

© 2004, J.S.Brown

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