Beanie, Baby

In what quasi-unhinged-Gary-Busey-level-Serling-equse-bat-s@#%-crazy-alternate reality would this product be flying off the shelves? 

Like... "I HAVE to listen to my “lifestyle” bands and I HAVE to wear my grey beanie. Can’t use ear buds - they're dumb, can’t use Beats by Dre - they ruin the sleek style of my skullcap."

"WHAT DO I DO???" ... (whispering) "what do i do." 

Calm down. 

There’s a real solution that brings it all together for the first time...for the last time. 

Tenergry Bluetooth Beanie

Let me say it again, in case you didn’t hear me: 

 TENERGY BLUETOOTH BEANIE. "Built in wireless headphones for music and calls."

And calls?! - Can you imagine kicking it like Kelso talking to your agent about being a BIG DEAL... into your hat?

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(Aside: Strong move with that headpiece, K-man.) 

Further more can someone sane tell we what’s happening in the picture from the box?

Am I to believe that these two stern sulky teens are outside listening to Pop-Punk-Metal-Core in the gathering storm, or is the inherent darkness of the “music" calling the ominous clouds to converge above them?

Also, what’s up with the youth models: Jessica Lange’s terrifyingly angular chin and the dusty son of Dave Navarro’s goatee? Looks like 1993 barfed all over this pic. 

(I bought both colors - just FYI, cause…you never know)

This concludes Devin's Corner.

Just a Phonefull of Sugar

So I was scrolling through my cellular phone, which as many of you know doubles as a "cam-er-a" and I noticed I had mainly two types of photo memories stored. Either:

1. Shots like this:

Or, 2. Shots of sugar stuff: 

There’s a few of many.

This means a couple of things: A) I don’t understand how really use my phone properly, still after nearly a decade of messing with these "Steve Job-ominations,” and  B) I may be approaching adult onset diabetes.

Both are a wee bit disturbing. 

Luckily my brother bought me these hideous running shoes so I can start jogging, but only like at 4 AM so as not to embarrass myself. 

He purchased these eye sores as my gift for Christmas last year  - I asked him for a “cool” pair of sneakers - he picked these out. I think he may not like me. It’s my only guess. 

I got him a subscription to Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams - that’s 4 quarts of gourmet flavored ice cream delivered to your house once a quarter for a year. "It is so choice, if you have the means...etc."

However as  I write this I sense a “sucrotic" through line emerging….hmmmmmmm.

This concludes Devin's Corner.

A Life-Punch in the Face

My car was broken into this week. 

They took everything in there: big bag of clothes (dirty and clean), leather weekender (that I bought from Ashton), yoga mats, a down comforter, a soft sheet set, pots, pans, canned food, coffee, dry goods, hiking poles and boots, backpack, vegetable spiralizer, cooking tongs I had purchased with a Williams & Sonoma gift card, artisan travel coffee mug, shower caddy, shampoo, and conditioner. The list goes on.

They kindly left a bag full of black plastic clothes hangers and that mylar thing you put across your windshield to block the sun.

Luckily, this time I had stashed my instruments and noteworthy electronics with a friend, but I feel like such an idiot for leaving possessions in my car for weeks parked in an up-and-coming meth hub in the middle of downtown Las Vegas - who does this?

Fear of getting a steady job has forced me to “life-edit” like an over-stimulated Silicon Valley entrepreneur, decades before it was the thing to do. Heck, I’ve slept on so many sofas over the years that I should petition the Olympic committee to make couch surfing an exhibition sport at the summer games. I’m just that good at it.

Anyway this vocationally-induced nomadic bent has forced me to “live with less and love it.” And like a dust bowl wanderer in a Steinbeck yarn I’ve kinda left a trail of discarded possessions along that dirt road to nowhere. What I haven't gotten rid of I’ve been able to fit in my car a la the Beverly Hillbillies and it’s really only the things I need (like clothes and toothpaste) or love (like my Cuddle Down pillows).
 
The worst part is they stole my prized Ferrari-red, overly priced drip coffee maker that is so “cherry” that Magnum, P.I. could probably drive it up the coast of Maui regardless of strong remonstration from Higgins.

My only consolation now is the thought that somewhere there’s an indigent individual sipping a unique cup of freshly ground coffee replete with a crema so divine it could cause Turkish men go to war in 1650’s Marrakesh (obviously I know nothing about history or geography).

My other consolation was this strawberry shortcake that I ate today. 

I guess life really can punch you in the face sometimes, especially when you do stupid shit.

But like this weird book my parents used to read to me when I was a kid says, "Could Be Worse!". 

 
I got shortcake and and I still got friends and family around to tell me what an idiot I am. Here’s to the next mistake. More on the way!

P.S. My mother used to call me her “indigent son” - I thought she meant I was a native Alaskan (Inuit) then I finally looked the word up. Thanks, mom.

P.P.S. My brother bought this stupidly expensive drip coffee machine and gave it to me when he stopped drinking so much coffee. I haven’t told him it was stolen yet. I probably wont for a few years. ;)

This concludes Devin's Corner.

PillowCage

Nic Cage Throw Pillow $12.99 on ebay

Sometimes something swims into your “ken” so to speak and you realize that this is in fact the first day of the rest of your life. There was you before and now there’s a different you. BC and AD if you will. 

This is me now. Have a weird weekend everybody. 

This concludes Devin's Corner.

Meet Buzzy

Since Mother’s Day is so soon...

So, my mother calls yesterday.

I’ve reached an age that when my mother calls I always answer, cause, well you never know. Could be someone's sick, could be something went terribly wrong with my taxes (yes, my mom does my taxes because I’m a single male 40-something), could be ANYTHING.

Anyhoo, I ask what’s wrong and she immediately launches into a "Your-father-and-I-are-watching-Jeopardy" story.

Knowing full well that I won’t get the next 5-10 minutes of my life back I settle into this oft-repeated parental moment. 

Mom: "Your father and I are watching "Jeopardy" (ugh) and this guy keeps winning the last couple of nights and Alec (it’s Alex, mom) asks him what he does for a living and he keeps saying he’s in the music business in LA, so tonight Alec (it’s Alex, mom) asks what he does in music he says 'I put music into commercials,' and I was thinking you should call him up cause you do that too! His name is Buzzy. He said the last song he put into a commercial went 'triple platinum', so I said to your father, 'Devin should call him up since he’s so close to LA. They could meet!'" 

Dad (yelling in the background): "Should I rewind it and record it for him?" 

Mom: "I’m talking to your son about it right now!"

Dad (yelling in the background): "Tell him his name is Buzzy!"

Of course at the end of the rant I agree to contact Buzzy (how would I even do this? Call "Jeopardy"? Text Trebek?), I agree that this is a brilliant idea and that Buzzy and I are destined to do magnificent things together.  

Then a little guilt about Mother's Day, and then something about my brother, then a final "Call Buzzy.” Silence. Sigh. On with the day.

Will Smith was dead wrong about so many things: "Wild Wild West" (song and movie); "The Legend of Bagger Vance"; "Hitch"; "MIB" (song); "MIB 2" (song: "Black Suits Comin (Nod Ya Head)"); "MIB 3"; "After Earth"; and the inevitable "Bad Boys 3" - but gosh darnit he nailed it when he put to wax the sentiment that, "Parents Just Don’t Understand".

Twenty years later, they still don't. 

This concludes Devin's Corner.

Get It Spicy

I had a chicken sandwich this week at lunch. Word on the street, or rather on Yelp, was that it was incredible but very spicy and to BEWARE. I love me a chick sando so of course I wanted this one. "World Famous", the sign said. However, being a bit on the nervous side, I naturally asked the waiter how spicy the sandwich actually was. He rolled his eyes and said, “It’s spicy.” to which I replied, “Can I get it mild, the spice level of a coward?”

A mere 8 minutes later the waiter drops off the noteworthy sandwich with a, “Here’s your MILD chicken sandwich” He defintely stressed M-I-L-D and said it loud enough for the neighboring table to hear. 

Unaffected outwardly, but inwardly embarrassed by my lack of adventure, I launch into the sandwich. This is a great sandwich. Period. The people of Yelp didn’t lie….but the first thing I thought was, "I shoulda got it spicy." It needed the spice. (damn)

The point is sometimes, you gotta just trust the chef and get it SPICY, people. 

The chef could be the universe and the spice could be an opportunity presenting itself or it could just be a fried piece of meat made by a heavy-set Hawaiian guy named Noah. Whatever, that’s irrelevant. Let’s all kick it up a notch this month and GET. IT. SPICY. 

This concludes Devin's Corner.

Decahedron Mystery

So I went home last weekend for the Easter holiday/my mom’s birthday, and you know how weird that can be. I got trapped in a conversation with my Dad who explained the entire plot of the Oscar-nominated movie The Big Short which took longer to tell than the 2 hour and 10 minute movie run time. 
He kept calling Christian Bale “Batman” and Steve Carell "the Guy from The Office." So sentences like, "Batman says to the Guy from The Office, etc, etc, etc." were thrown around repeatedly. 

It was quite a treat. 

Anyhoo - I get back on Monday to the parking lot in Las Vegas, in which I live, and there’s this thing right smack in the middle of it. 

I’m not sure if it’s a spaceship containing a clone of 1976’s David Bowie from the Man Who Fell To Earth.

OR an egg laid by this giant golden chicken from the video game Minecraft. 

I DO know that at night it throbs with light and I swear it said my name on Wednesday when I passed it by. 

This concludes Devin's Corner.

Deliciously Confused

It’s this time again. Is anyone else kinda creeped-out about how these things have a “yolk”?

I wonder…does a chocolate chicken lay these? Or an Easter Bunny? 

I’m deliciously confused.

 
This concludes Devin's Corner.

Sadie-Sitting, Matt Damon

Sometimes you just gotta take the spotlight off yourself and shine it on a special "person” who needs to take center stage. 

This week I have the privilege of baby sitting Ashton’s cat, Sadie. Sadie-sitting perhaps. 

This is her looking contemplative and  ready for dinner. 

She was sitting almost perfectly in the middle of the hallway when I entered the Airstream. I like to think she was in that position for hours, just thinking, and being. 
 
Here’s her outdoor cage - the cage attaches to the Airstream with a wire pathway like a cat-sized hamster tube. She can be both an indoor and outdoor cat without the fear of her escaping or being terrorized by the horde of alpacas and free-thinkers that live in this park. 

Here’s where she bit me last night when I was trying to watch Matt Damon in The Martian.

 And here's Matt Damon in The Martian.

This concludes Devin's Corner.

Take the ******* Horn Outta Your Mouth

Sometimes when I’m working on a piece I just don’t know when or how to stop. This is a 178-track (and counting), monster, 6 minute, epic piece I’ve been working on about, of all things, vegetables.

I’m sure we’ve all made this decision/mistake before. 

Anyway it’s moments like this I think about a quick Miles Davis/John Coltrane conversation (that probably never really happened):

Davis was questioning the increasing length of Coltrane solos, and 'Trane answered, "I don't know how to stop.” To which Miles quips, “Take the fucking horn out of your mouth.”

I don’t do it as much as I used to, but I gotta remember to remind myself to "take the horn outta my mouth."

This concludes Devin's Corner.

Squids, Man

Did anyone have this kind of week?

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Yeah. Me too. Sometimes you eat squid sometimes squid eat you.

This concludes Devin's Corner.

Alpacalypse Now

This week, one of the alpacas (Triton - see below) made our parking lot his toilet. Wow, who knew I would ever have to type that. Well, I guess I didn’t have to but.. ya know.. what’s done is done.

This concludes Devin’s Corner.