Do Your Work

I stayed up late on Wednesday night, watching all of the commentary about the NBA game cancellations. Since Thursday morning, things have been hazy. My head just feels in a fog, with so many reports, stories, and noise.

What’s the best course of action? What to do next? Should I get extra cat food?

Then a Friday call with a good friend set me at ease; “just do your work.” I’m paraphrasing, but the first thing I need to do is my work, because it needs to get done, so I can send an invoice and get paid.

Does it NEED to be done? In the grand scheme of things? Doesn’t matter. Now isn’t the time for grand thinking, and figuring things out. Do the work, then do what else needs to get done.

Everything is Cancelled

I was supposed to travel to NYC on Wednesday, and I’m glad I didn’t. That night I sat down to watch some NBA basketball, and then all heck broke loose. One game cancelled, then another, then the entire NBA season was suspended. Other leagues followed suit in the next day or so.

So just two days later the Queens Marathon got pushed back to November 15th. All schools in PA are closed for two weeks.

Nearly all the people I work for, they’ve got bands who were just heading out on tour, and those tours are cancelled now, which affects a ton of people.

Everything feels foggy now, in a haze. It feels like 9/11 did, but that was this moment, whereas with this we’re still in the after shocks, and we don’t know when it’ll end. All we can do is wait.

Don’t Grumble, Donate

I saw a bumper sticker tonight that I don’t care for. Instead of grumbling about it, which does nothing, I donated money to something good.

The person with the bumper sticker – they spent the money, right? They believed in something enough to pull out their wallet. And if all I do is scoff, then they won.

And it doesn’t have be $25 every time. Five dollars still helps. So does sharing something you like, emailing a friend about a cool video you found, or loaning a book to an old friend.

There Are No Shortcuts

It was a moment where my draw dropped, and I never bothered to write it down.

I was walking somewhere up 5th Ave in NYC, listening to music on my iPod (yeah, this was awhile ago). I remember hearing a lyric from the song I was listening to, and seeing inside a BestBuy, the exact same words on a sign.

It’s not like it was a Top 40 hit, and I saw a display for the same top 40 hit. No, they were completely separate. A song lyric, and some marketing message on a sign that I’ve long forgotten.

But it happened again recently. Sort of.

I was listening to a song by one of my favorite bands, Into Another, from their album ‘Seemless.’ As I was running on the treadmill at my local Planet Fitness, I glanced at a TV commercial for some bathroom product, and the word ‘Seamless’ flashed across the screen.

Okay, not quite the same word, but close.

Today I read Khe Hy’s email newsletter Rad Read, and the first story was “Be the best at the worst,” which I then read on his site. The phrase “there are no shortcuts” stuck out to me, especially in the area of running.

Then my friend Jasper published a blog post (thanks RSS newsreader!) about cleaning his keyboard and he said, “Easily the most boring part of mechanical keyboards is lubing switches. It is, unfortunately, not optional. There are no shortcuts.”

What’s it mean? I don’t know, but it’s a double dose of truth today; “there are no shortcuts.”

Staying on Track

I sometimes wonder why I stuck with running, and I think it’s because I didn’t just want to lose weight. Pretty sure it was because I wanted to become a runner.

James Clear talks about that a bunch in his book Atomic Habits, which I’ve referenced a bunch of times.

Instead of “I can’t eat cake,” it becomes “I don’t eat cake because I’m a runner.” I mean, I still eat cake, and mmmm, I love cookies. But my grocery shopping these days it a lot more veggies and fruit and beans than it is junk food that I used to buy just a few years ago.

So, to become a runner, I just had to run. But it’s weird to think I started that back in 2016, almost four years ago. I’m trying to apply that to other areas of my life now, too – financial, work, mental health. Running has showed me that the choices I make each day can lead to bigger things down the road.

Time with Creeks

A walk along the creek always does me good, getting close to water. I’m not much of a swimmer, not really a beach person. Just get me next to the water, though, and I’m content.

It reminds me of 2010, when I was getting ready to leave New York City. I had time to bike around to various parks on the water front, up and down Brooklyn. I remember my heart was troubled around that time, but the rivers helped me navigate. The East River heard a bunch of drama and never judged me for it.

Today, a small creek was enough. Just a casual stroll before lunch, in the cold, but it worked. Time in nature isn’t just there for the troubling times, but for the upswings, too.

Don’t Ever Give Up

I met Ed Gieda back in the 90s when playing shows. He was up in Wilkes-Barre, I was in the Poconos. We played in bands (he was in Bedford, I was in The Unmarked Cars), so we ran into each other on occasion.

Fast forward a few decades. We reconnected via running. Ran into each other in Philadelphia here and there. It was sweet. I followed him on Instagram, and was always struck by his passion for movement and growth.

Then he stopped posting. I had no idea what happened.

A month or so later I ran into him at a coffee shop, and casually asked “what’s up?! Haven’t seen you on Instagram lately!”

On June 18th when my wife was taken from this physical plane, the devastation & annihilation of virtually everything I knew & loved reduced me to smoldering rubble. I was literally stripped. The language which I speak lacks words that can adequately convey the agony in which I suffered.

From Ed’s Instagram

He told me this and my heart sank. I mean, this isn’t about me of course, but all those years of shows, of randomly running into each other, and the sweetness and the carefree nature of it all just came to halt.

Everything stopped.

Ed’s back on Instagram (, documenting his running adventures, processing the grief, sharing his story. I’m sharing here because maybe you’re not on Instagram, and would like to follow along.

Music Legacy

Maybe it’s because of my emotional reaction to the new Star Wars (I loved it), or the quiet time with work right now, but thinking about making music as intensified. And I think part of it has to do with… legacy.

Part of “my story” is both my parents were gigging musicians when I was growing up. They both played in bands, my grandparents played music, my uncles (my one uncle was in a band that self-released a record in the early 80s).

So thinking about my mom’s passing in 2017, and how the world will never hear her sing again. Oh, how I wish I had recordings of her. My dad is still playing, mostly jazz guitar, into this 70s. He’s got thousands of original compositions, though none of them are recorded.

It’s like I’ve pushed down that part of me, like I’m “just” a computer guy now, who also runs a bit. And while the energy required to also work on music is slim, I know it’s bubbling up. Something I can’t keep running from.

Making Music

I grew up around musicians, and eventually became a musician when in high school. I was surrounded by friends who played music, and grunge was exploding, so it was easy to maintain momentum in that world.

These days, I work in music, everyday. I earn a living from it. But I don’t make it, and I’ve been sad about it. Like a loss.

I think part of it is that I feel that in order to make music is needs to follow the formula that I’ve known since I was a teenager: make music, play shows, record an album, repeat forever.

And while I know there’s so many other avenues for music, I’ve been hesitant to really dive in. Mostly because it’s the unknown.

Of course, running has been a major part of my life the past few years, which requires a bit of energy and time. But lately the itch of music making has crept back into my thoughts.

It’s something that’s never gone away.

Getting It Live

The best piece of advice my dad ever gave me was that you start learning to drive after you pass your test. To contrive that to serve my point: your software can only reach its potential when it’s live. You are not your users, so don’t pretend you know what they want/need. Give them the best thing you can make, then let them tell you how to do it better.

Jasper Tandy

I remember launching Noise Creep back in 2008. We had all these ideas at launch, that Tuesday would be one thing, and then on Thursdays we’d post another thing.

That lasted maybe two weeks.

Get your thing into the wild, ship it, publish it, make it live.