Crushing Krisis

I have been enjoying a budget blog called Early Retirement Extreme, written by Jacob – a man who semi-retired into financial independence at age 30.

How? Here’s a glimpse:

I don’t have a driver’s license, I don’t have any debt, I don’t live in a house, I cook everything from scratch, I cut my own hair, I practically never buy new or anything at all for that matter, I am not on any prescription medicines, and I am in great physical shape.

Essentially, he has eliminated the American addiction for conspicuous consumption from his financial diet, and it hasn’t left much else to spend on. I can definitely appreciate his no-frills approach to spending – even within my yuppy, metro life I’ve managed to live marginally.

For a more detailed analysis of how Jacob works his magic, see his recent post Your budget is like a sinking ship. He literally compares the average American budget to a ship, showing how you can plug the leaks. He also aggregates the spend on some common items – like clothing and furniture – across a lifetime, like so:

$2688 a year or a lifetime cost of more than $200,000 simply to have other people prepare your food. If the average income is, let’s say 40000 after tax, would you really want to work 5 years of your life just so you can eat a meal you didn’t make yourself a couple of times a week for the rest of your life?

While his simplistic living might seem beyond your ability to withstand, his bottom line can make sense for anyone – identify the quality of life that you want, and then plug the leaks.

I have a well-documented history of spending February indoors avoiding people and neglecting my creativity. I watch movies, play video games and berate myself for watching movies and playing video games rather than writing magnum opus blogs and an album.

That the month is bisected by my dating anniversary with E – now eight years – doesn’t help matters. In fact, sometimes the intersection of anniversary with my shut-in status just re-emphasizes my desire to live the rest of my life as a hermit.

If January is for resolutions, February is for malaise and self-hatred. I’m not sure if it’s a Virgo thing, but it’s as reliable as the sunrise.

It helps my hermit case that I’ve just now shaken the remainder of a nasty bought of possible laryngitis. Also, our block remains under sixish inches of ice, and getting anywhere in the city has required about a mile walk to a reliably non-detoured form of public transit.

Happily, this year I pulled myself away from Netflixing through Lost and playing Creeper World long enough for a Valentine’s brunch with E at one of my favorite upscale pubs, Nodding Head, where we were serenading by the jazz stylings of one of my favorite musicians, Alexandra Day.

So, there’s my one social engagement for the month. There are ten days left, and I am already chalking them off as lost. Maybe if I can embrace the vast nothingness of this awful month then I can find some small delight in any minor progress I make as a person from within its icy grasp.

1. When I first bought the most recent Kings of Leon album – Only By Night – upon its release, the song I immediately gave five stars was “Use Somebody.”

2. In September after two weeks of the NFL season I declared (to no one in particular) that the Superbowl would be between the Saints or the Vikings from the NFC against the Colts or Denver for the AFC.

3. When Blogger.com launched Blogspot I reasoned (and frequently blogged) that Blogger was moving away from its core users that had previously driven word of mouth and feature development to appeal to a wider audience, and that eventually they would phase out the core users entirely. Today Blogger released an email stating that FTP support for domain blogs would end on March 26.

I could write a post about how – even after a weekend primarily comprised of sleep – I am still a veritable vegetable after a week of near-all-nighters capped by two gigs.

I could write about how perfect a storm my Tin Angel gig was, but how already I know it wasn’t enough to fulfill this year.

I could write about a slew of interesting links I’ve flagged over the past two weeks.

Instead, I am writing to let you know that my first proper album in nine years is released to the internet at large today – for free, for the moment.* I am exceedingly happy with it, and still on my walk home could find previously unheard nuances in each of my performances. 11/12 of it appeared originally on the blog, although 8/11 of that has been significantly remixed or remastered since its original appearance.

It is called Brown Bag Demos, Vol. 1, as a nod to the lunch sacks E inspired me to distribute them in, and also in a nod to the fact that there will probably be more of these before the year is up. Hell, as Arcati Crisis we released three of them in 2008, so I have to match that before it’s even vaguely impressive.

* It costs $3 for a physical copy at the moment, and I think I have it a bit backwards, because the physical one doesn’t have bonus tracks. But, the physical one does have the hours of hard labor, the stunning disc faces, and the hand-assembled brown-bag slipcase, so if you’re the sort of person who likes to own physical CDs $3 seemed like a reasonable threshold.

I really need to get better at discharging links more expediently. At the moment sifting for true gold is an all-evening prospect.

Kevin Smokler highlights eight awesome facts about Michelle Lynn Johnson, AKA Me’shell Ndegeocello.

Do you feel like your eyes are bigger than your stomach? Well, maybe your eyes and stomach are the same, and the food just got bigger.

Andre Torrez establishes seemingly unattainable resolutions, like not buying books for an entire year. For 2010 he is only listening to newly released music. I will gladly abet him in that quest.

James Franco, on Soap Opera as performance art:

I disrupted the audience’s suspension of disbelief, because no matter how far I got into the character, I was going to be perceived as something that doesn’t belong to the incredibly stylized world of soap operas. Everyone watching would see an actor they recognized, a real person in a made-up world.

Genius. I love anything that alters an audience’s perception of art based on peripheral factors. See also: Brecht, Dresden Dolls, Lady GaGa. (via Kottke)

Also via K: a couple paints what they want, then sells the painting for the price of what they want, then buys what they want. Ingenious, no?

Stumped for a gift for a precious or precocious kid on your list? Get them a pad and some crayons, and spend some time with them on Christmas drawing monsters. Then, have their favorite monster made for them.

Debbie Millman, one of my favorite bloggers and role models, is launching both a book and a television pilot. Both worth seeing.

Who Sampled lets you figure out where that sampled hook came from (or, if the song you want to sample has been oversampled already). (via Fresh Arrival)

Seth Godin’s blog is a goldmine of best-practice thinking and tools. Recently, a post chock full of personal to-do list web apps. Loves it.

Speed Tracer is a Google Chrome extension that can help you figure out what’s slowing your page load. Remember when every page had to be smaller than 20k? Good times (via Lifehacker).

PS: I have switched over to Chrome full-time for personal browsing. LOVE. And this is coming from a lifelong Mozilla devotee.

Time for bed; another AC video in the a.m.

Hi. I am encountering a minor issue with posting – which is to say I wrote this weekend, but you aren’t seeing those posts at the moment.

So, yeah. Hang in there for a moment, listen to the three new demos just below this post. I located my mysteriously disappeared Friday and Saturday posts. Sunday coming shortly. Your patience is appreciated.

November is National Blog Posting Month, aka NaBloPoMo, deemed as such by the blogger behind Fussy in November of 2006.

I am 2 for 3 in NaBloPoMos: knocked the first one out of the park with a reboot of my blog and thirty newly recorded songs, biffed the second one due to distraction from recently becoming engaged, and made a respectable showing in the third with thirty days of posts plus 10 newly recorded tunes.

I make no promises or predictions about attempt number four. One one hand, my blogging has been limp for a few months now. On the other, my life has recently been both simplified and technology-laden to the point that I have parts of my brain to blog with and a minimum of five devices to do it with.

Can I repeat a 30-day streak for the fourth time, and for my third NaBloPoMo? Or, will I blow out, tied up with work, playing music, and cultivating my marriage.

You have 30 days to find out.

As with any big event in CK-land, the Blame-a-Thon required some recovery.

I can get into the whys and wherefores of the recovery some other time. In short, I stayed up for something to the tune of 32 hours, we raised tons of money for LiveStrong, and by the end of the night I was a meandering, sobbing wreck of good intentions.

The following week I saw partner-in-musical-crimes Gina perform in the Fringe Fest show Fefu and Her Friends, and it was wonderful. Even though I have forsaken acting for music, Gina will always be an actress, and it was inspiring to see her in her element with a cast of other outstanding actresses. (and, those aren’t the idle words of a fan – even the local paper highlighted the strong acting in the show).

In the meantime, Elise’s band Filmstar has gotten good. Really good. Like, each new song is a pretty solid single. And, as of last night, they were voted The Deli Magazine’s band of the month for October.

Pretty wild.

Behind the scenes of all that awesome, though, there is a slightly different story. I’m getting a little frustrated with all of these team successes I’ve been a part of. Yes, the teams are cool, the successes have been memorable. But, I need to find some of my own success. I have this nine year old blog, and I’m the only guy on the team. I have my own 250 songs, and I’m the only guy on that team too.

My birthday passed by with little event this week. Twenty-eighth. I managed to make it through 27, to die without dying, and here I am on the other side.

I think it will be an interesting year.

I am approaching peak stress.

Like, peak stress ever. More than wedding stress. Catching myself pulling at my hair with my fists in meetings stress.

And I’m really happy. Like, deliriously.

#blamedrewscancer planning insanity is in overdrive heading into Wednesday’s 9/9/09 Blame-a-Thon benefit concert (right now working to curate our overnight film festival)(which did not exist two days ago). At work I’m on a few unusual extra-curricular projects, like a benefit concert (oh hai, another one!). I’m writing new songs and recording lots of videos. I think I’ve cried at least once every day this week. And, I seem to have largely given up on qualitative time spent sleeping, eating, or seeing my wife.

All of that should result in grumpiness. But it’s not. For the first time in a long while I feel totally myself – like residual self image me has busted out of my head, Athena-style, and is now wandering the streets with giant curly hair and an even bigger voice, laughing uproariously.

Maybe it’s the weather? Philadelphia is suddenly all cool and Autumnal, a weeks-early birthday gift. Sleeping with the window open, wearing layers. It’s my season, I’m doing things I love, and I have my beautiful curly hair back. I even like how I look in full human motion on tonight’s webcast.

Seriously, I think Elise is drugging my soy milk.