Remember when I thought that blogging was going to make a comeback? Such innocent, optimistic times we lived in back in March.
I guess I can give you a rundown of what the last seven months have been like for me? I kind of think you don't care, but then again, you're still checking this blog hoping for content, so I'll oblige you.
The restaurant that I work at shut down on March 16th. We all went in on the 17th to clean and take some food home (since our full order for the week showed up a few hours before the Health Department gave the order). I invited everyone to the Milk Money show on May 16th, saying "This will all be over by then for sure."
The first week and a half of quarantine was super productive. Dusted off the blog, got creative with some Milk Money stuff, tried to see if my cats liked pancakes, and tried to keep somewhat active by adapting a few workouts for my small apartment.
The ten days after that were pretty rough. Reality set in, and it finally started to dawn on me how long a pandemic might last. The weather turned to shit again, so I took a lot of naps, made coffee at 6pm, and stayed up until 2 or 3am watching movies.
It wasn't until early April that I found a rhythm. I started making coffee at a reasonable hour, writing (not blogging here, of course) in the morning, then working out. The gym I go to closed down, but they amended things a bit, and started posting daily workouts on their app, and videos of how to do some of the exercises online. Luckily I had a kettlebell, a couple of dumbbells, and a jump rope. Some days, I'd work out in my living room. On nice days, I would go out on my front walkway. I had 200, 400, and 800 meter runs mapped out around my neighborhood, and was pretty consistent with it once the weather got nice again.
In the evenings, I made dinner, then went for a walk—which became my literal favorite thing to do. I looked forward to them every single day when I woke up. I would listen to either a podcast, or an audiobook, and just head out—mask in one pocket in case I passed someone, and hand sanitizer in the other. I was going about four miles every day, and longer when the book got really good. The audio version of Beastie Boys Book is incredible, and I want everyone to listen to it. Ad Rock and Mike D narrate most of it, but they have chapters and sections read by a ton of people who just love Beastie Boys like Will Ferrell, Tim Meadows, John C. Reilly, Snoop Dogg, Kim Gordon, Chloe Sevigny, and Bette Midler. It's so good that I bought the physical copy just to see all the photos they referenced in it. Both are so, so worth checking out. If you watched the Apple TV+ documentary, you know what I'm talking about. That was a filmed version of the live show that Ad Rock and Mike D did after the book was released. I watched that, and thought, "That was pretty good, but I wish they went into more detail about..." The book does just that—with the exception of MCA's death and how it affected them. They just wanted to talk about the fun parts of having him in their lives, which I get.
After that, I listened to an audiobook on the making of The Office, and then another one about the rise of all the cool New York bands in the early 2000's like Yeah Yeah Yeah's, White Stripes, and The Strokes called Meet Me in the Bathroom. I missed pretty much all of those bands in their heyday because I was immersed in HC culture, but I've come around on a lot of them—especially Yeah Yeah Yeah's.
That's pretty much what I did every single day. For a month and a half. Every three weeks I went to the grocery store, and occasionally I would get coffee and go for a long drive, but that was it. My next door neighbor went home to California, my downstairs neighbor holed up in her parent's condo in Park City, and my other neighbor moved out right before everything shut down. I basically had the whole place to myself, so setting up all my guitar gear and playing loudly was another little outlet, but I was pretty bored. I really didn't see anyone for like two months—not even a Zoom hangout. I went to my parent's house for dinner once, and helped my brother take graduation photos for his virtual commencement ceremony from the U of U. My friend Kyah dropped off some Starburst that she brought back from England the literal day before they stopped allowing international flights. When Cassie got back from California, we built a planter box for our garden, and then failed spectacularly at actually growing anything in it.
I went back to work in the middle of May, and the whole summer has been pretty much a blur. I go to work at 7am, get home around 5pm, take a power nap, work out on my front walkway (I've since moved to my garage), make dinner, go to bed, and do it all over again. I have a nice little patio, so about once a week my friend Casey comes over, we get takeout and eat outside. Listening to stories about how many of my friends relationships fell apart during quarantine bummed me out, and made me realize that while I was bored for a few weeks, ultimately I was fine. Aside from work though, I'm still doing the quarantine/social distance thing. But at this point, I can't really tell if it's because of the pandemic, or because it's just how my life is now. The only time I really see anyone is at the BLM protest marches, which I feel sort of guilty saying doubles as my only social outing.
Last week I turned 40, and a few of my friends rented out an entire theater so 8 of us could watch The Goonies, eat movie popcorn for the first time since March, and not worry about any strangers coughing on us or talking. That was pretty great. Now that summer is winding down again, and I'll be on Funemployment (without the fun) again soon, maybe I'll write more. Doubtful, but we can pretend.
Oh! We did write and record an entire 4-song Milk Money EP this summer without ever actually getting together a single time. It comes out on October 23rd. Maybe you'll hear from me before then, but, come on. Go find @MilkMoneyRock on social media and keep track. The new stuff is different than Reckon, but still has the M$ vibe. I really dig it. Hopefully everyone else does, too.