Monday, November 5, 2007

Myspace has become da bomb

My dad just posted a comment on my myspce blog. It was a typical and characteristic statement made by my father, God bless him, in the sense that it made no sense to anyone that knows what a blog, the internet, or a computer is, or anyone outside of the 1930's. Something about a Chattanooga choo choo? I say this desiring no mal-intent to my dad or his name, I love and adore him dearly.
The realizations and reaffirmations, from this simple act of my father posting a comment on a blog entry I wrote months ago on myspace, abound and have really got me thinking. If I may:

My initial reaction to seeing that someone had posted on my blog was confusion. Who posted on my blog? no one posts on my blog. Upon opening the comments I noticed the post was written by someone named Allen. Now, I only know one Allen, and when I saw the comment about the "choo choo" it was confirmed that it was my 56 year old father. That's right my 56 year old dad now has his own myspace profile, doesn't have many friends, just Tom, but from what I understand Tom isn't particularly picky about the people he associates himself with.
This only led to more confusion, a deeper more confusing confusion if you will. I thought "maybe it's unfair to characterize my dad as out of touch and...", forgive me if you read this dad, "kind of lame. Maybe he's more on top of the happenings of my generation than I give him credit for. I mean he's on myspace. I wasn't even cool enough, or was too cool, or thought was creepy, to be on myspace until recently."
Then I had an epiphany. If my dad is on myspace then that can only mean one thing: myspace has become da bomb.
A little clarification. Urbandictionary.com, (another website I thought that most of our parents weren't savvy on until I witnessed a recent foxnews exposé on "phrases parents should know"), defines the bomb as:

A phrase, which much like Courtney Love, was only popular during the early nineties. At the time, it meant "exceptionally cool".The coolness of "the bomb" goes down another proverbial notch, when it is referred to as "DA bomb".

"Dude that party last night was da bomb!"
"Get the fuck outta my house! Who do you think you are saying "da bomb" in my place?"
"But, dude!"
"No fuckin' exceptions. Get out, you're not Courtney Love"

Thus, myspace has become da bomb. Maybe it's a little premature to make this statement, or maybe this is just another step in our culture evolving, or devolving depending on perspective, in how we communicate. The fact remains though, my dad is on myspace.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Moving

Sept. 5, 2007. Nashville, TN
Today is the start of something. In addition to this blog, it's the start to my new life in Nashville, TN. After months of fruitless e-mails and phone calls to ads posted throughout the world wide web, I gave in and packed my car for a nine hour car ride from my hometown in North Carolina to friends' apartment in Nashville. And to further put the uselessness of the google search for "nashville apartments" into perspective, I found a place to live the first morning I was here.
I'm excited, really truly excited. It's nice, seems like it's too rare that I feel so. I feel like I've been almost convincing myself that moving here was a good idea up until today. It feels like I've been trying to get away for so long, and today is the first day I feel like I'm trying to come to something. It feels nice. An even better feeling than that, is the realization that I actually have something to come to. More than just an apartment or space to sleep in, I feel like I coming to a decision in which I am completely supported, both by people here as well as people back home. (If I ever bother to write anything else in this blog, and you bother to keep up with it, soak it in, this is probably the last bit of optimism that you will read for a long time. It's pretty atypical to my general outlook.)
I fly back Friday, direct from Nashville to Raleigh Durham International Airport, leaving my car here. The next time I come back here I'll be riding on the wheels of a U-Haul truck, packed with my life and memories.
-Tim