What's my name?

I do accents...all the time. I love them. I'm always trying to see if people can guess where I'm from by the way I speak. My natural voice has no accent to it...it should have a southern twang, but it does not. No real explanation, except that when I was young I told my mom I wanted to be a D.J. She said I couldn't do it with my southern accent, that D.J.'s went to class to learn how to speak without an accent. I didn't know what she meant, and then I heard it. I also went to Pennsylvania and had everyone go "aww...you're from _______ aren't you?"

I also noticed that the general concensus is that southern accent=dumb. It's not true, but it sticks in the American cultural noggin.

But when I lost my accent, I learned how to do others. I've gotten to the point to where I will pick up people's accents when I'm drinking. After 5 days in Boston, I got to where I was doing it without realizing it. We went to a bar and I took a minute longer to go in and then was jabbing with the bartender about all the tourists in our bar. He agreed and then asked:
"What neighborhood you from?"
"Dallas."
"Where's that"
"In Texas"

He got pissed and then laughed his head off.

There's a trick to accents. You have to find a phrase that takes you there. Make it as stupidly generic as possible, but find something that brings back the accent naturally...just makes you have to say it that way.

For instance, the famous "pahk de cah in de gahrahg" (park the car in the garage) for Boston will get it going in a wicked fashion. California, a simple "hey dude, the surf is beautiful" makes it just flow. It's little details that are different. I once noticed that when English people tried to speak with an American southern accent, they sounded Australian.

That's right, Aussie's are just hick Brits.

So I found a way to subtly change the sound of my voice and go from England to Australia to Texas to the deep south to Jersey, Boston, Chicago, Minneapolis, and California. I also do some funny French, Spanish, and Indian voices.

That's where the name comes from. When I do my Indian (Western Asia version) voice, I always think of Apoo in the Simpsons. I couldn't just do Apoo, so I had my own convienence store guy work at 7-Eleven. Abdula Ikibarra just popped out of me one day as the person's name. When someone asked if it was a real name, I said "loosely translated, it's the numbers 'seven' and 'eleven'."

We were drunk and it was funny as hell, so I kept it.

The worst case scenario was when I worked for a company who had a VP who was a Brit. He came to a dinner/reception and we were all downing drinks. At some point, he's talking to me and my british accent just popped right out.

I don't know if he caught it or not, he never indicated...but in my head I went "holy shit!!"

Next up...something else.

Musical Snob Ass Motherfuckers

For the record, I used to be one. I still have some problems with it. I love bands when they're small and then they lose me when they're big. Not because of the "sold out" thing, but because it's no longer "mine".

I remember going to a Pat Metheny concert for the first time and being bummed that there were a shitload of people there and they were all big fans like I am. It was hard not to be down hearted afterwards, except the music was so great and we were all singing along.

I have some friends who are still snobbier than me, but Ms. T is kicking my ass about being a snooty s.o.b. when it comes to this stuff. Good thing, I guess.

What I can't stand are people who will tell you that your taste in music SUCKS if it isn't theirs. My former brother-in-law is like that...so is, interestingly enough, another guy named Michael who lives in my small town. He's just an over opinionated fuck who needs to be hit several times in the nut sack with a bag of nails, so his opinion doesn't matter.

Still, his attitude is congruent with the type of stoggy, stick-up-the-ass types who think that their vision of "art" if far superior.

Look, it's okay if you like Justin Timberlake or Rob Thomas or Carrie Underwood or whatever, as long as you give My Morning Jacket or Umphrey's McGhee or Peeping Tom a spin or two sometime...and vice versa.

But fuck whatever band put out that "Barbie Girl" song. Just fuck them til they bleed and leave 'em dying.

Have a nice day.

Start it off right

I have a myspace account, but I'm always putting things on there so embedded with code and obfuscation that I sometimes can't tell what the hell I'm talking about. So a friend of mine (actually, a few) has a site on this thing, so I thought I'd sneak over here for some freedom. I haven't decided if I'll tell anyone about it or not. Maybe this will be here strictly for people to stumble across and leave the world at that.

I'm almost 7 weeks into a relationship with a woman named Theresa. After getting divorced earlier this year, I did the "bounce around the bedroom" thing for a little while and then just cleared my head. I was very interested in a woman named Joslyn for some time. We met back in (I think) February or March, I'm unclear. I somehow decided that the best course of action was to take my time with her to see if she would come around after a while. The old "friends first, lovers later" approach.

So I'm out one night and am supposed to meet some people, including Josi, when I spot this woman just singing and laughing with her friends and she stuck in my head. I kept stealing glances her way, but she was surrounded by so many people, I couldn't bring myself to intrude.
Didn't have to, it turns out, as she "accidentally" sat in my lap about an hour later. Turns out that when I hadn't been looking her way, she had been looking mine. That's how we met. First date was about a week later and we just took off from there.

It's hard not to compare relationships, but Theresa has shown me more love and respect, and receives it with equal aplomb, than I got during the entirety of my former marriage or was able to truly give.

The funny thing is, a few nights ago Josi was in a pickle about a situation with a guy. I was the last friend standing and our friendship has actually become vastly better since Theresa came along (oh, and for the record, I never stood a chance with Josi). I ended up sharing my most current experience as saying "this is how good it can be, where are you?". It was the first time in a long time I can remember using my relationship as an example of greatness rather than asking questions and being disappointed by my situation.

It's Sunday. I live in a small town that I'm moving out of soon. Tonight I head off to the city to spend time with Theresa and then out of town for a few days on business. I have to mow the yard and pack and plan and all that first, so I should probably sign off on this for now.

I'll have vastly more creative blogs than this, it just takes me a bit to get the feel of how free I want to be and how much I need to say (and a little to do with just how creative I feel that morning). If you've found me, come back from time to time. We'll laugh...