NO...MATTER...WHAT.

Everything's negotiable. 

Everything?

Today I hung out with two brilliant negotiators. What impresses me isn't their ability to negotiate; it's their choice not to. 

Today is the final instalment of "The 365 Experiment," one of Leslie Foster's blogs. He wrote a script a day this entire year! A script a day!

On a film shoot in Tennessee I was up from 5am 'til 1am the next morning. As I crawled into bed for a 4-hour recharge so we could do it all over again, Leslie settled at his computer to write the day's script. Dude, seriously?

Why not just write it tomorrow? Why not take 2 weeks off while the movie is in production?

Because this was his "non-negotiable." Because he'd made a promise. To himself. Every day this year, he was going to turn in a script, a crafted slice of imagination, a soul-painting, a story worth telling.  

NO...MATTER...WHAT.

Actually, I think I first heard the phrase "this is one of my non-negotiables" from Bjorn, another incredible human I encountered today. I'll tell you about him later...

Foster, I am impressed by your resolve, intrigued by your creativity, inspired by your integrity.

What are my non-negotiables? 

What do I have to do today? Who do I have to be? 

NO...MATTER...WHAT.

A single phrase to describe my friend Leslie Foster: Diplomatic Non-Negotiator

Third Wheel

A full-grown man asking my permission to go to the bathroom! 

I knew my path for the day would cross a particularly attractive woman. Amazing as she is, she is not the one for whom my heart reserves. I knew I had to walk that path, but I also knew that on that day I wasn't strong enough to face the encounter alone. So I asked my friend to be there with me.

I met this guy about 6 years ago and he stands out in my memory because he's not afraid to dance whenever the music comes on. He'll even dance when there's no music playing. He's a carrier of contagious enthusiasm. 

Lately I've been reading Nehemiah 8:10 differently than before. It's says the Joy of the Lord is my strength. Ok, sure it's my strength and your strength and everybody's strength. But I'm realizing it's not just generically everyone's strength--It's specifically MY strength.  

Tom Rath describes Positivity on page 141 of his book Strengthfinders:

...Somehow you can't quite escape your conviction that it is good to be alive, that work can be fun, and that no matter what the setbacks, one must never lose one's sense of humor..."

That sounds like Clayton, sounds like Dan, sounds like Jim, like Mike, like Penner, that sounds like...

I've been paying attention to which men have my back in a tight spot, and it seems coincidental they all exhibit this trait, this Positivity, this strength. I'm learning more about the way Joy both derives it's strength from Character and supplies it's strength to Character, a perpetual cycle of replenishment. 

I did run into that young lady and we had a blast! Me and her, and my brother. 

I needed a man I could count on that night. He never left my side. Except one time, and he asked me first. I wonder what he would have done if I'd said no. 

A single phrase to describe my friend Clayton Bedell: Strong Joy Backup

English Kitchen

"I'm here, luv"

British accent. 

You could tell on the phone she was spunky. 

I wish on anyone the beautiful drive between Collegedale, Tennessee, and Atlanta, Georgia. 

I had driven to Atlanta to pick up a stranger. We'd spoken a couple times on the phone but never met. And I wasn't sure what she looked like, really. 

I'd seen a headshot a couple weeks earlier, but now I'm standing in the airport amid a massive throng of people and I'm not sure how we're going to find each other. 

That's where cell phones come in. "I'm here, luv," she says, "at baggage claim for flight 56." 

Across the sea of people I recognized her immediately. She's unmistakable. There's a God-light shining around this woman. It was like I already knew her. An hour later we'd prayed and cried and eaten at Arby's, and I had decided this one's a for-sure keeper. 

She's a fantastic actress. Played Caroline Calloway in  Handwritten Pictures'  "Marbles With Thoreau."  Nothing short of brilliant.  

Over the last 6 months, she and her husband have hosted wonderful dinners that certainly betray them for the foodies that they are. I'm so entertained by the word 'foodie.'

Is that 'Foody' if you're American and 'Foodie' if you're British? 

Today I tried some of her Orange Marmalicious Pancake Syrup; ended up getting two bottles, cause I have to share this with somebody, but you better believe they're not getting mine.  So then I tried the Sundried Tomato Pesto and I had to have some of that, too. Tried the Cranberry Compote,  and you guessed it, had to... 

If you listen closely, you can hear your vanilla ice cream begging for some of this compote. 

I knew she was a bright shining human, a loving wife and mother, such a talented actress, and an amazing dinner chef. But seriously, I really didn't expect how good her English Kitchen line would be. And I hope that's not an insult, Josie. I knew it would be good, even amazing. I didn't know I'd be raving about it hours later!

SUN-DRIED TOMATO FESTO PESTO

A spicy tapenade, perfect for hors d'oeuvres

4oz - $7.50

PORT & CRANBERRY COMPOTE

"Tastes like Christmas!" Great for meats, cheeses--and ice cream!

4oz. - $7.50

ORANGE MARMALICIOUS PANCAKE SYRUP

If you love maple syrup, wait until you taste this! Orange/lemon/ginger.

8oz. - $7.50

ENGLISH HOLIDAY CHUTNEY

Date/Cranberry/Pineapple. Last year's instant bestseller. 

8oz. - $7.50

GIFT BASKETS (Any combination of four) available for a $7.00 additional charge.

Perfect gifts for yourself or someone you love. To order, email josiecoleman@gmail.com 

A single phrase to describe my friend Josie Gammell-Coleman: Actress Brilliant Foodie

Ask me a question

I met him on February 26, 2000. It's not that often I remember the date I first met someone.

8 years ago, he booked me for my first concert 

ever.      

Did I tell him that? No!

He calls me up, 

"Hi I'm Marcel Schwantes and I heard your music from a friend and I'd like to book you to come and perform at a venue called The Young and the Restless.  Are you available?"

"Sure, Marcel, what date would you like?..."

Cause, you know, I'm trying to make it apparent that any one of the next 364 days might be already committed elsewhere. Next Tuesday? No, can't do that. I'm planning to walk around the block that day.  Third wednesday of the month 4 months from now? Sorry, full. Day after that? Full too. All weekend, full. What?... 

"February 26? Sure, I think I can do that." 

So I get off the phone and call my sister Truth and my boys 

Quinton and Mike and I'm like, 

"Help, I'm doing a concert!"

It's not the last time he's gotten me in over my head. My first interview. My first record deal. I was just a tagalong to Marcel's speaking engagement at a university business class, next thing you know we're making a record. 

A few months ago I was sharing with him that I've been thinking of pursuing a master's degree in Counseling because I really want to be able to help people move toward their goals in life. True to form, he asks a question, 

"Have you heard of Life Coaching?"

"Yeah, that motivational mumbo-jumbo, what about it?"

"Well, I'm studying for my certificate and I think it's the sort of thing you might want to check into. In fact, I think you're well suited for it. It's about helping people move toward their goals in life. You'd be great at it. "

Hmmmm, interesting, that's what Suzanne said a couple months earlier. 

"Sure, I'll check it out. Send me a link..."

I'm on track to complete the Life Coaching certificate early 2009. I have to tell  you I am so excited about this new learning curve. Thank you, my brother. 

Along my journey into purpose, there are at least 5 pivotal points where I remember his friendship shaping the course of my path. Some people just have a way of bringing sychronicity with them into your life. He's out of town with his wife this weekend, so I feel this is a perfectly good time to talk about him behind his back. 

A single phrase to describe my friend Marcel Schwantes: Angel Blogger Right-Time-Question Coach

Stay?

Ever planned to go somewhere and then you arrive and find out your friend isn't allowed to go in with you? It wasn't cause he's black or anything.

 

At least they gave us a recommendation for another spot nearby. 

So now we gotta make a decision. Are we going to keep the group together and just go someplace else, or split up? Some go to the original destination and the rest take the 5-minute detour? I have to go with him. He can't drive, and he did come with me, so I'm responsible for him.

Not to mention, I owe him a lot. We've been friends for a long time. 

Today Sandy and Kristin and I were planning to hike in Malibu Creek State Park, but when we arrived I learned that my dog is not allowed in the park. The Park Ranger was very kind and recommended another great place to walk or hike, the Paramount Ranch, just 5 minutes away. 

I met Vegas at the North Hollywood pound. My guess is black lab and dalmatian. And the energy level to back it up. Always ready to start playtime, not always ready to stop. Today we hiked until he couldn't go any further. At one point he just lay down in the middle of the trail and looked up at me, like "I'm done. You guys go on if you want to--I'll be right here"

Interesting how friendships are cyclical. 10 years ago I rescued him from a small, confined, empty, hollow, alone space. Now he comes to my rescue. Sometimes it's easy to get locked into one role or another in a relationship. Like, I'm the one helping you. Or, I'm the one being helped. I truly enjoy those relationships where we help each other. Like me and my dog.

Sandy, Kristin, thank you for coming on our detour. That was very gracious of you.

 

A single phrase to describe my friend Vegas: Rescue(R) Loyal

 

Unfeigned

From a thousand miles away, I can hear the twinkle in his eyes. Even on the telephone I can tell he means it when he says hello. 

Everyone needs mentors. Today Leslie was talking about the Donald Miller ad campaign for mentors.  I guess that's what put Jim on my mind. Haven't spoken to him in a couple weeks. 

About 5 years ago when my life was at all-time low, I knew I didn't know what I needed to know, but if you don't know what you don't know, how are you ever going to find out? Well, I think that's when I recalled something Bill Gould used to say: "Find somebody who has what you want, do what they do, and you'll get what they got!"

I remember looking at Jim and his family and thinking, I want what they have. His wife and daughters love this man. I watch them adore him and I realize the secret that was not so obvious to me 5 years ago. He adores them every bit as much. More, is it possible, he adores them more? 

I remember thinking if I could just hang around and watch him, I might learn to have a family like that one day.  One time back at Open Door, I remember him praying that I would learn to love with "unfeigned love."

Which means what? 

It means love that's not fakin'.  The real deal. I'm-in-it-with-you-for-the-long-haul kind of love. 

This man is crazy talented. He's a brilliant guitarist. He's a gifted and passionate worship leader. I take my shoes off when I lead worship--got that from him.  As a professional, he plans timelines for public construction.  And if you're ever nearby when he fires up the barbecue grill, ask no questions; just go find a plate. 

I love this man for so many reasons. He's been a brother to me. 

Sometimes people say they're gonna pray for you, but I don't always take comfort in that cause they may forget about it next time their favorite tv show comes on. If this guy says he's praying for you, consider yourself prayed for. 

I'm so honored to know a man married 30 years and still in love with his bride.  Happy Anniversary, my dear friends. Here's to the Jim & Penny Show. 

A single phrase to describe my friend Jim Cook: Barefoot Worship Protector

Business Class

A couple years ago, Marcel called me up and asked me to accompany him to a speaking engagement in Riverside. He had been invited to talk to a group of business students about his experience compiling a CD of christian recording artists. 

I tagged along and brought my guitar at his suggestion. His rationale was, "well, you're a christian artist, so if they have questions that would be better suited for an artist, you can field those questions." 

Ok, cool. Makes sense. 

We get there, find the classroom, Marcel says hello to the professor and introduces me. Class begins, professor introduces Marcel, he does a marvelous job explaining the details and logistics of forming a compilation. I sit there listening, thinking how cool is it that a business class has a term assignment of recording and marketing a CD? 

Q&A time comes. Marcel fields several questions about producing concert events and promoting cd projects. Then he tosses me a question about the artist's perspective. 

Now, let me say this. I'm the tag-along to Marcel's gig. So I'm really relaxed. I'm not here to sell anything. I have no agenda. I'm in here-with-him mode. But I am holding a guitar and I'm being asked questions, so I start talking from the heart. I'm saying exactly what I think, because it will help these guys with their project. The better their information about the artist perspective, the more effective they'll be at producing their compilation. 

Fielded some questions, sang a couple songs, next thing I know the class is singing with me. What a great feeling! One of the students says, "why don't we have this guy on the compilation?" 

I'm thinking, "Yeah. Excellent question, young man." Extra credit for the brilliant young fellow in the front row there.  

Professor says, "you can do whatever you want to do, but remember that you set parameters for your artists based on the demographic you want to market. One of those parameters was 29 or younger..."

He turns to me. 

"How old are you?"

I'm deflating as I face the reality. Record labels aren't looking for a guy my age. Heck, business students aren't even looking for a guy my age. 

"35"

Ah well, I've had a great time, and I'll certainly remember the time a classroom full of business students sang with me. Glad I could help, Marcel was awesome. It was a good evening, no matter how you look at it.

Class is over, we chat with a couple students who have more questions and comments, thank the professor for having us, and head to the car. It's gonna be an hour back to LA. 

We're about to leave, the professor comes out to the parking lot. 

"Hey I like your music. I own a small record label, and I'd like to produce your record." 

The beginning of an amazing friendship.  That was 2006. We've traveled a ways since then.

 

 

 

What is it with me and parking lots? 

A single phrase to describe my friend Tom Macomber: Professor Attorney Banjo-man Producer

Conduit

Times shift. Seasons change.  Conversations rearrange. I value things that stay the same. This friend is one of those. 

When everything else fades to gray, some people I still see in color.

 

Yesterday I saw red. Gorgeous red columns of steel at the new LACMA building on Wilshire. Jeff Koons' red high-chromium stainless steel cracked egg. That was my favorite piece. We laughed about how you can look at a piece of art and not really get what it's about, but for the sake of people in your company, you 'ooh' and 'aah' so as not to appear unsophisticated. More accurately, we laughed that neither of us felt compelled to pretend. 

Never had to pretend much with this lady. Wouldn't do me any good anyway. Sees me like I am, calls it like it is. Maybe it's the photographer eye. Why do I have so many photographer friends? I'm thinking about the last 4 blog entries. All interesting personalities. All dreamers. All photographers. Whence come these people to my life, who save the world in frames?

My friend Rita once mentioned the concept of an accountability circle. I never formalized one, as in, we don't have printed badges and assigned seating.  I have, however, benefitted greatly from the concept and have a loosely organized but deliberately pursued, circle of accountability. 

I had lunch with two of it's members yesterday. I know when I'm being investigated. To be sure, the food at Pailin Thai was delicious, and I betrayed my inner vegetarian yet again. But I was being called before the council, and I knew it. 

Having answered at least a passing grade's worth of questions to their satisfaction, I was released under my own recognizance into her custody, to enjoy the Los Angeles Contemporary Museum of Art, where I saw red. 

Do you get angry when the people you love are mistreated? Do you see red sometimes? 

I wonder why Jeff Koons' piece was my favorite yesterday.

I won't try to capture 20 years of friendship in a single entry.  

A single phrase to describe my friend Zoe Pamintuan: Beauty Well-RED

Prayer and Pasta

"Seven?"

It's the last word he says to me at close of day, typically around 10:30 in the evening, a question tossed over the shoulder as he walks away.

"Yup." My response confirms a recurring appointment. We meet at the church to pray weekday mornings from 7 to 8. I'm learning so much from this man. Learning tons.

Then there are some things I'm not even gonna try to keep up with.

It would take years to master photography the way he has. He's a brilliant film-maker. I'm happy enough to hang around said brilliance---probably not gonna rub off on me any time soon. Heck, according to some people, I can't even pick a good movie to watch, so I'm in no danger of making one, right?

I'm learning about flavors like Mexican Oregano. I'm even getting a little daring with Rosemary and Rubbed Sage, but I'll probably not master gourmet cooking the way he does it. This dude made a curry sauce for lunch yesterday that turned Pasta into the food of the gods. That's fine. It's ok that I don't know how to do that.

Photo by Kathy Khoo

He reads encyclopedias for fun. For fun, I'm saying! Don't believe me? Watch this.

I just called him while I'm typing this...

"hey, tell me a random fact"

"about what?"

"anything"

"ok, Polar bears are left handed"

I think he's just making it up, so I start laughing. "No really, all of them?"

"Yes, all of them."

"All of them?"

"Yes"

"All of them?" O, he's serious. He's dead serious.

"Yes...And they cover their noses when they hunt. It's the only part of them that's black. They cover it so they can sneak up on you"

He knows everything that happened on MSNBC today. I never watched political tv 'til I met this guy a few months ago. And by the way, Stephen Colbert is hilarious. How did I not know that?

He just released a documentary called "Kim" online yesterday. It's a powerful story about a crime that's overlooked far too often and affects way too many people I love. I'll probably never make something that important.

It's not likely I'll have the time or energy to learn Photography, Politics, Gourmet Cooking, Film-making, or Random Party Facts from him, so what do I mean when I say I'm learning so much?

I watch him talk to God in the morning. He doesn't say much. He means every word. Then he listens. That's it right there. I'm learning to listen.

A single phrase to describe my friend Leslie Foster: Encyclopedia Renaissance

Hide and Seek

She still writes letters the old-fashioned way. How cool is that! Nice pens and fancy stationery. She makes candles and soap. Seriously. And plum pie from scratch. She homeschools 4 kids and they're all well-behaved. The kids, I mean. Her, not so much!

You should hear the things she's doing. Rock Climbing and Water slides and reading Les Miserable, and painting and frisbee and passports for travel.

I didn't know all of this. She's usually hiding behind the camera. Says it's her way of freezing time. Preserving memory. Capturing the moment. It just ocurred to me yesterday that it's like a game of hide and seek for adults.



That's what I do with my guitar. I keep it with me 'cause it makes sense to me and I can stay behind it and feel secure. Every so often I'll venture out from behind, but I always know where it is. You can tell if I've moved in to a place by whether or not my guitar is there. So I'm thinking about that and I said "hey, my turn, I get to take pictures this time."

Shortly I'll be in studio with Mike Turner recording Secret Place. It's a song about hiding. I think hiding is good sometimes. I was hiding back in 2002 when I wrote this song. I think you can hide out of fear or you can hide cause you're preparing something, or being prepared for something.

Same song, second verse:


It's not like I've been to the point where I'm supposed to break

And it's not like I've already taken more than I thought I could take

Not like I'd get what I got if it was mine to choose

Sometimes I wonder if maybe I was born to lose

Still, hypothetically, if it should happen to me

I think I'd run and hide, believe that I would run and hide...

In the Secret Place of the Most High...

A single phrase to describe my friend Darlene Taylor:
Hiding Seeker

Almost Conversation

I try to guess what color her hair will be next time I see her.

Huge heart, this one. Selfless and compassionate, someone I count on to help with simple things like a ride from the airport, all the way up to promoting my next gig. So full of life. She deliberately lights up whatever space she occupies.

Today she says to me, "If a friend needs to hear something that's true but might hurt their feelings, I think it's important to tell them the truth." This is something that's been on my mind a lot lately. It's scary sometimes to say things that might offend someone enough to cost you the relationship. How do you choose? What would Love do?

Then she says, "It matters if they can hear the love in your voice. When I'm talking to a dog, they don't understand my words, but they can tell by the way I speak that I love them and they understand what I mean even if the words don't make sense."


So....did Angie just call me a dog?




A single phrase to describe my friend Angi Bernards: Funky Ninja Pirate Princess

What I'm Looking At: 8/18/08

I'm in Oregon this week. If you're in the area, come out and join us Friday night for some music at New Horizons Church in McMinnville. I'll be playing some of the favorite songs from my first album and introducing some of the music from my upcoming second album "Sounds Like Humans".

Here's what I'm looking at:

Muse

I am the sum of my friends. Each person I've met, every interaction, every encounter, every relationship, has contributed something to making me. 

I was 8 when I discovered that I heard music differently than the people around me. That intrigued me for a short time; it puzzled me longer. Then, sadly, it frightened me. That's a different story for another time. For some intuitive reason, I kept this realization to myself a while.  Like say, 19 years. 

By the time I was 27, there was a woman on the 6th floor.  The way I remember it, she grabbed me by the collar and shook me a little and said, referring to my music, "it's not a hobby, kid. This is who you are!"

I wonder if that's the way she remembers that conversation. We've had lots of conversations about all kinds of things. European Travel, Rural Homesteads, Children's Books, Sitcoms and Websites and Ceviche. 

She says things that amaze me.  Honestly, she has a way of saying that one thing I would never have thought of in a million years. Yet once I've heard it, I think how blindingly obvious it ever was. 

She lived with me many years. I wish I had more pictures. 

And of all the things she said to me, I wonder if there will be any more important than this: 

"it's not a hobby, kid..."

A single phrase to describe my friend Suzanne: Gypsy Dancer Muse

Lunch With Thoreau

Lately my life is a string of perfect days. Blue sky... Green field... Light Breeze... Adam's on his way with food. 

I'm comfortably sun-warm.  It's just past noon.

On the other side of the generator and the crew van, there's a crane set-up.  I've been told it will be used for a shot later in the day. Past the crane and the Box truck, past the horses,  I can see three figures frolicking through this gorgeous country afternoon. Two kids and a grown man. 

Adam arrives with the food, fried rice with veggies and chicken lo mein. Good stuff. Always nice to see you, Adam. 

About this time the trio quits playing and heads over to the table, the rest of the film-crew in tow. Everyone settles into a well deserved lunch break and conversations scatter in various directions. 

There he is again, sitting alone this time, the frolicking man, eating nuts and berries out of a broken pot, wearing the expression of one who sees more than meets the eye. I am curious about a grown man who chases dreams through fields and eats berries for lunch.

photo by Leslie Foster

I've met few with such varied and exciting life experiences as the man I sit with today. He regales me with stories, challenges me with questions, blesses me with wisdom. I feel as though I've stepped into an earlier century. 

He tells me how his life went from complicated to simple. He tells me stories that will be continued later. Maybe back in Los Angeles, where things move faster. 

Back in Los Angeles,  his name is Christopher Ackerman, actor, author, musician. 

photo by Leslie Foster

Here in Collegedale, Tennessee, his name is Henry David Thoreau. 

He was summoned through time from 1847 to this field by director Melody George, whose short film "Marbles With Thoreau" is in production for 2008 release.

Maybe I will have opportunities to learn more about Chris when we get back to California. I'm looking forward to it.  That can wait...

Today I'm having lunch with Thoreau. 

Poppa

I was at the home of my mentor and friend Dan Bumstead, and we were talking about something or other that seemed significant at the time. In retrospect, I am amused that my indelible memory of the moment has nothing whatsoever to do with the topic of conversation. 

What I do remember is that in the middle of our conversation, Dan's son Christopher came into the living room from playing outside.  He surveyed the room and took in the interaction his father was having. I can only speculate at the internal dialogue that ensued...

"That Lennox guy's talking to dad again. Seems they talk a lot these days.  Boring grown-up stuff..."

I wonder if there was ever a moment of hesitation before he walked between us, hopped onto Dan's lap, curled up in a ball and said "hi Poppa."

For the slightest fraction of a second, Dan took his eyes from me, placed his hand on his son's head and said "hi Chris."

An instant connection was cemented and we resumed our conversation, Christopher curled securely, oblivious to our exchange, safe, content in his place of shelter and comfort, the cares of a 7-year old forgotten, the world irrelevant.

I remember thinking, that's how I'd like to relate to God. I would love to know that I can wander into his living room while the universe hums and planets whirl by, while nations and kindreds await his command, and desperate hearts seek his consolation. I would love to know that in the middle of the conversation, without summons or appointment, 

I could climb into his lap and with absolute confidence of my welcome say "hi Poppa"

And he would put his hand on my head and said "hi Len"

Sometimes after a hard day I do that. 

When I do, I'm picturing a young boy in a small town, retiring from a hard afternoon at play, seeking neither audience nor authority, simply craving the comfort that is presence. 

A single phrase to describe my friend Daniel Bumstead: Smiling Mentor Poppa Missionary

Back In The Day

Took me 4 years to say his last name right.  

One of my favorite things is introducing great people to each other.  Suren is  an old friend from Guitar Center and Melinda Rice is an incredible violinist I know from church. Today I'm watching them work together and I'm just sitting here in amazement as they bring to life this song about a bright boy whose name means "bringer of light."

Ever since I've known Suren we've been working on recording music. Back then we had little equipment and less experience.  

I lost track of him for a few years while I was out of town. I really had a great time in the country. Met some excellent people there, too. That's a different story. 

When I got back from Oregon, I learned that he'd been producing and engineering with some of the best in the business. The kind of names separated from a grammy by only a single comma. He's learned the craft and the business of the music industry, and yet managed to retain the integrity his soul-patch indicates. 

As I watch him and Melinda creating the backdrop for Luca's song, I'm enjoying the sight of Suren dialing the top-of-the-line equipment we used to dream about back in the day. Now he's the music supervisor for an animated series in production. Ten years, still going, still building, still making it happen. Much respect to my indomitable friend. 

One phrase to describe my friend Suren Wijeyaratne: 

Soulful Tenacious Producer Craftsman

Hanging with my boy

I just read a bit from Sourena Vasseghi's book "Love your Life and it will Love you back"

I'm thinking how grateful I am for the life I live. It's a good time to be 37 in Los Angeles. If I could be anywhere right now, I'd be here. If I could do anything, this would be it. There's so much to look forward to, but that's in the future, and right now I'm really excited about where I am and who I am. I am the sum of my friends. 

Spent a couple hours today with my friend Daniel. He introduced me to Sushi Eyaki on Wilshire, a couple blocks over from his office at Nowcom. Not so big on sushi myself, but it's growing on me. I'm finding it's an inescapable requirement of the Angeleno lifestyle. When I came here I didn't even like fish, cooked. Now we're talking about eating it raw? I had the Salmon Yaki (cooked, thank you very much!) and caught up with Daniel about what's going on in our lives. Thanks for lunch, brother. 

This man truly is a brother to me. Level 4 is the highest for non-biologicals, but seriously, this cat is level 4 and a half. Like, he's halfway up the stairwell between 4 and 5. 

Fierce competitor. Built for Battle. Fun to be around. When I come over to watch the game, he and his wife treat me like a relative (that's a good thing at their house) and I find that to be priceless in a town so full of lonely, disconnected people. 

I appreciate the lunch, thank you for the brotherhood.

A single phrase to describe my friend Daniel Salazar:

Laughing Sportsman Warrior

Musician In The Park

Melinda is one of the most gentle spirits I know. Have you ever talked to someone who made you feel like you were being listened to? That's what it's like talking to this friend of mine. She listens as if  you have something to say that should certainly be heard, and treasured, and thought about, maybe even repeated. 

You know, I've lived here in Hollywood for 8 months this time around, with Griffith Park just a mile away, and I haven't taken the time to get over there and explore. Today I got to do just that.  Melinda and I stopped at the park cafe so we could take a couple lemonades for a walk. 

My friend here is a phenomenal classical violinist who spends her days working with the Harmony Project, teaching music to underprivileged children who might not otherwise have access to such education. I've seen her with them. There's a glow that comes over her face as she watches them play. 

How honored am I to know someone who celebrates her birthday by going to Mississippi to help build homes for people affected by Katrina? How honored am I that she lets her violin attend my concerts, and she even accompanies it onstage with me? How amazing is it that someone with so much to say to the world, takes the time to listen, and invites me to walk in the park on a day I might otherwise work through lunch and forget to breathe? 

A single phrase to describe my friend Melinda Rice:

Musically Exquisite Compassionate True Heart