2:41

I have been having some serious trouble sleeping recently. Whether it is due to the stress of a new puppy or the complete lack of any kind of real stress, my idea of how sleep should be involved in my life and sleeps idea of how it should be involved in my life are never matching up. For most of college I took over the counter sleep medication to fall asleep, and tonight i am probably going to have to do that again. I hate sleep. I hate the idea that my body feels like it needs to sleep. I hate that when I fall asleep, all I want to do is sleep. I hate that 1/3 of my time of this planet will be devoted to nothing but blackness, nothingness, and the occasional visual manifestation of my sub-conscious. But more than that, I hate that, since I do have to sleep, I can never fucking get there when my girlfriend is ready to go to bed. We have been together for the gestation period of a human fetus, and of all the nights we have spent together I would be shocked if she has stayed up later than me more than 3 times. 

My body shuts down, but all i can do is lay awake, tossing turning thinking tossing turning turning tossing turning thinking and tossing. Nothing good comes of a sleep depraved mind at 3 in the morning, where there is nothing to stimulate it but everything that you dont like in the world. I've spent so much time focusing on positivity, and wanting to surround myself with a positive atmosphere and people who are doing and creating positive things that i forgot that I am, apparently, so morose that people find it hard to believe that I am "very funny." If positivity is something I am so concerned with then why do I dwell on, well, everything negative and not focus on all this supposed positivity? You know why?

Because we all want to be something we're not, and at 2:35 in the morning, these are the only things my tired mind will concern itself with: all the things I am not and all the things I can't change. 

What I do when I can't sleep.

I dont think I have ever written anything in here that doesn't have to do with either sports or music/playing in bands/touring. I think that is why I havent posted anything in here recently, or at least not as often...I litterally have nothing left say about any of these subjects; I dont give a shit about Blink-182's reunion tour, I still think Mastodon is a good band, and I high fived myself when I heard that David Ortiz used steroids. There is nothing going on in my life that is of any substance or is anything that I think qualifies as "interesting," and certainly not worth reading. I'd rather spend my time watching the Office and not looking for a new job than post anything on here about sports, music, or anything in my life that will ultimatley bore me to tears. I tried writing a short story I had outlined a while ago and it turned out to be so depressing that I didnt feel like working on it...creating something depressing when you don't think you are all that depressed is a strange feeling. It'd sort of be like (in a totally exact opposite kind of way) if Conor Orbest tried to write a posi-punk record...it's just confusing and scary.

The interesting thing is that there is nothing interesting happening in my life right now, yet I am still typing. Which is sort of the whole ethos of "blogging."

The internet has really sort of thrown culture into a weird sort of tailspin. Their is literally no aspect of life and culture that cannot be immediately consumed, which is a lesson Erin Andrews learned the hardest of hard ways. In the next 65 seconds I could Tweet a 140 character idea, thought, pun or antidote, and it is available for immediate consumption. Facebook and Twitter and Myspace and Blogger and Tumblr all give the average person (present party included) the chance to say whatever is on their mind at any given point in time during the day. If I wake up at 6:48 in the morning and want to tell everyone that my girlfriend steals the sheets from me (1) or that my cat is the worst possible animal to try and share a room with (2), then those thoughts can be immediately put into the public sphere and immediately consumed at any given second by anyone who thinks that my life is at all interesting. Any aspect of my life can be put on the web for anyone to read, whenever they want, and interpreted however they want.

So does that mean that my life is important?

The answer is, of course, no. Sure life is what you make it and our lives are all important to the people around us and the world we create for ourselves, but in the grand scheme of things, just because I have something to say and it can be immediately consumed, that does not mean there is any merit to anything I have to say.

The problem with the Internet, blogs (both micro and regular) is that it allows the average person who has nothing interesting to say to feel special. Soccer and Blogs work and exist on the same level...they allow the vocal majority (kids who arent good at any other sport and people who really cant write all that well) to compete on an even playing field. Comparing any blogger to Keruac would be like comparing the 2008 Columbus Crew (3) to the 2008 Pittsburgh Steelers. It's just fucking unfair. But the beauty of blogs and soccer is that everyone is virtually equal, and everyone gets a chance to play goalie. Their is no hierarchy or meritocracy to blogs and Tweeters, they all simply exist, and grasp for some kind of celebrity or notoriety (not unlike David Beckham). Their is a reason that bullies exist in the world, and it's not just to make fun of the fat kids. Culture needs the hierarchy, and literacy cannot exist without a meritocracy.

The single worst thing the internet has done for culture is that it has allowed the average joe to feel special. People who have nothing interesting to say, no good stories to tell, and live a fairly mundane, average life can now cleverly disguise their Tweets and blogs in a manner that completely fabricate their existence. Reading blogs has become the new sitcom...reading any blog post from anyone i went to highschool with is not unlike watching an episode of The Fresh Prince of Bell Air. The posts have no linear narrative, they are simply a series of episodic posts that just existence within themselves, have very little in the way of thematic elements, and are ultimately just there. No one is breaking new ground, we're not contributing new idea's we are just doing.

People who are paid to write are paid to write for a reason, and it has nothing to do with their ability to post sotires in 140 character tweets. Literacy is changing every year in our world, and I'm honestly starting to think that when my kids take a "history of the english Language" course when they are in school, a major topic will be how literacy eventually made the jump from quality to quantity.

I know that anything I have just said will never make a dent in the world. But i least I understand that. Putting my puppy in his crate and finally falling asleep without waking Adrianna up is a much bigger concern of mine than anything that happens in the Blogosphere (4).

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1) She does not, by the way. Habitually, I am the blanket-stealer
2) I have, unfortunately, done this
3) unquestionably the worst sports franchise team name in the history of professional sports.
4) I am so bummed that "blogosphere" does not register as a mis-spelled word. So. Fucking. Bummed.

In 7 months I will turn 25 years old, meaning I have been alive for a quarter of a century, meaning that I have roughly been alive for one third of my life. In 7 months I will have used up a third of my time on this earth. I'm consistantly worrying about what I have to show for 25 years of being on this planet.

Last year I embarked on an epic journey that spanned 8 countries and too may American cities to count. I felt such a sense of accomplishment knowing that I could sustain myself while being so far from home and be perfectly happy and content in this totally different type of environment and style of living. August 27 - December 8th last year made ever miserable second of 2008 leading up to it worth dealing with.

Right now, as I plead with myself to just be sleepy, all I can think about is what I have to show for this year, what will I have to say about 2009 when in wraps up here in a couple months, and, more importantly what will I have to say about myself on April 1st 2010.

Idea for a short story:

The main character is a guy who came in 2nd place in a comeptive reality TV show, not unlike Real World Road Rules Challenge. He was clearly motivated and capable to win the final event, but just somehow let it slip through his fingers as the equally capable but slightly less motivated cther contestant ended up pulling out the win. The story will start after he has filmed the series, and we'd pick up with him as he is preparing to watch the season finale with some friends. After the show airs he does the occasional interview with the Local ABC or NBC affiliates, people recognize him regularly. Everywhere he goes someone approaches him, and he modestly basks in the limelight. As the story progresses, things naturally begin to fade...less people notice or care about him, less opportunities are presented. He will get offered a job hosting a small market extreme-sports show that will fail and get canceled after only 2 or 3 episodes. About half a year after the story starts he will compete in the Reality Show he was a part of's "All Star" series, where is is eliminated very quickly. He will constantly grasp at straws trying to fill the void that he has lost, and in the process will lose every last little bit of interest and passion he has in the world. Everything becomes dull, nothing matters, and because of his isolation in his miniature celebrity world, when it all fades he admittedly feels no emotion for anything other than longing to feel something.

I also think id like for him to accidentally kill somebody, but i cant figure out that metaphor yet.

tour is over

July 5th – Williamstown, NJ
Yet another run the shit down house show to chronicle in the places I have played. I spent some time today lurking kids I went to highschool with and I wonder what they think about me if they check my facebook page. They probably don’t, seeing as how I haven’t checked in on any of these people in years. But I wonder if they look at my list of shows played and think “Man, 6 years later and Zac Hobbs is still playing in bands and still playing house parties.” This doesn’t bother me at all though, I think if I never make it any further than this, I would rather know what a real, visceral musical experience was with a community of obnoxious posi-punks that are committed to something other than school and money. Tonight was the last show of tour and looking back its been one of the better experiences I’ve had on the road.

July 6th – Philadelphia, PA
Packing things, getting ready for an early as shit plane ride home. When tour is over, it’s time for tour to be over, and I can’t wait to not have to sleep on a couch or a shitty futon or floor.

blogblogblogblog

June 30th – Columbus, OH
One of my favorite memories of Columbus, OH is that they have a Moes that stays open until 4 in the morning. Little did I realize that in the two years since the last time I was in this town, Moes has closed and I had to settle for some bullshit Chipotle. We are playing tomorrow night at a punk house that has been a punk house since the 80’s. I have no problem with punk houses, I just wonder what life will be like if/when punk houses and punx are no longer a part of it.

July 1st – Columbus, OH
Tonight we played like it was our first time playing together. I forget, why do I like Columbus so much?

July 2nd – Morgantown, WV
We’re driving to Morgantown, WV. I am sure there is an aesthetic and welcoming aspect to living anywhere in West Virginia, and I am at least relatively certain that those aspects have to do with mountains, but I cant pin-point them. It’s not pretty, the people are sweet but awkward. I feel like music is half a decade behind here. Everything is cheaper though, though. I bought 2 soda’s, a pack of cookies, some gummi bears and a bag of BBQ chips (which turned out to be the only thing I ate that day) for less than 6 dollars at Rite Aid. We’re driving to Morgantown, WV…I feel like I don’t fully understand West Virginia

July 3rd – Harrisburg, PA
We collected 100 gallons of pretty clean permission grease today…before that I woke up on a shag carpeted floor and can feel the effects of not taking care of my knees. All my bones ache as if they are 15 years older. Maybe I should stop drinking so much diet soda and teach someone else how to load the bus for once.

July 4th – Philadelphia, PA
I walked just short of 8 miles today, getting from place to place and seeing friends and getting food. Jon Loudon invited me to his friend Sean’s, which turned out to overlook one of the biggest 4th of July gatherings in the nation. I never really enjoyed the Roots, but after seeing them perform I have a newfound respect for what they do. If all hip hop was as dense as the Roots, I would never listen to anything else. One thing I realized today is that Philadelphia has a very distinct smell that I have come to enjoy very much. I really love my time in this city, but, to a certain extent, I am glad that I don’t live here. I would hate for the excitement of returning to this city to fade for me. The backyard that backs up to 409 is having a DJ’d party and I have heard no less than 3 Michael Jackson songs since I have been back here. I am sick of hearing about the king of pop. My opinions on the man have not changed now that hes a corpse.

Adrianna and I didn’t get along very well today. I don’t worry about it too much though…not because I don’t take our arguments seriously – I get incredibly upset when things aren’t sweet – but because it just makes me realize how much I love her. We have been an official couple now for almost 8 months, but we have been important parts of each others lives for almost 14 months. Arguing, in a sort of strange way, just makes me more excited to see her and to pick her up and spin her around with me. I’ve never been this excited for a 6am plane flight in my whole life than I am for the one that awaits me Tuesday morning.

June 26, 2009 – Philadelphia, PA
It’s like riding a bike for the first time in years…you kind of suck at it at first, but eventually everything starts falling back into place and your hands and head start to synch up and the frets your fingers land on start to hit with 90% or better accuracy. The fact that I never touch my guitar outside of being on tour is starting to show, and I am starting to get worried that this is some kind of foreshadowing of my life. We played what I would consider to be my best “First show of tour” with Mose tonight, with Dan being my 2nd favorite Mose drummer. We have to leave for Skatopia early, so we are all taking naps before we leave at 6 or 7am. I spend most of the evening finishing my book as opposed to sleeping, wishing I would have remembered to order my mom some flowers for her birthday tomorrow.

June 27, 2009 – Rutland, OH
I slept most of the way to Rutland, only coming down from the loft occasionally to eat some bread we brought with us. After an exhaustive travel day we made it Skatopia, which is best described as a world where people whose whole perception of punk rock is the Casualties and NoFX, combined with a certain infield of a NASCAR race feel. People are shooting fireworks everywhere, bonfires are everywhere, cars were set on fire, it is essentially what a 14 year old kid would imagine anarchy to be. The collective mindset of everyone who buys into Skatopia is that of a bratty 13 year old that would rather shoot roman candles at their friends that do anything constructive, never the less positive, with their life. I am almost glad that this place exists in the middle of nowhere, so long as they all stay the fuck away from me.

June 28th – Driving.
Kyle Knight pointed out that I am not a “happy camper” this morning, and he is right - I hate being dirty. I will wear the same shirt for a while and I may go a couple days without showering, but I hate literally being covered in dirt. Some crust punk made fun of me for vocalizing my discontent with being filthy…which I can only assume he thought would somehow diminish my mood or cause me to feel bad about myself. This kid making fun of me for being clean is one of the biggest compliments I can be given. The more and more that I differ from these scumbags, the happier person I am.

We end up staying with some of Matt’s family just outside of Athens, OH.I never want to return to Skatopia again for the rest of my life.

June 29th – Athens, OH
Its almost 3am and I’m not tired. Sometimes I wonder if the only emotion I ever feel is varying degrees of anger. TS said he saw me crack a smile the other day and I really hate that people can count the number of times I have looked happy on one hand, and I equally hate it that the people close to me consider it some kind of novelty to see me present myself as happy or having fun. We spent all day cleaning the bus and all I want to do is eat a fucking burrito.