Excitement in Walnut Creek

It's a cold and rainy Saturday Night, and I am sitting alone in my apartment, working on my latest video. Tedious work, because the program keeps crashing. At about 10:30 PM, I hear two people arguing not far from my window. Then there's a 'BANG!!!'. The unmistakable retort of a hand gun reverberates throughout the courtyard. A scream follows. A door slams. I hear the sounds of someone running over the patter of the heavy rain. A car starts up in the parking lot and speeds away.

Wow. What do I do? DO I pick up my video camera and chase the car leaving the parking lot? Do I pick up the phone? I'm afraid that everyone else is thinking, "somoene else will call 911", and so I go ahead and call.

"Nine One One, May I help you?" A cheery bright voice answers the call. I've called 911 a couple times in my life, and usually the operators are flat and all serious. This one sounded like I was calling a department store.

"I've heard a gun shot just outside my apartment." I tell her.

"Just one?" she replies as if taking my order.

"yes," I go on to describe the yell, the running and the car speeding away.

"Do you want the police officers to visit you?"

Generally speaking, I respect the police, but I wasn't up for any visitors. A few minutes after I put down the phone and get back to work on my video, I hear the heavy boots and the jangling of cuffs, keys and all that other stuff cops wear on their belts go passing swiftly through the breezeway outside my door. There are flashlights outside the window. The police are on scene.

(insert story here about how I almost burn the house down, but that would just be too much information at one time, and will remain for a future story)

A couple hours later, I need to run to the store for some supplies. Pulling out into the parking lot, I have to maneuver my way through the dozen or so police cruisers in my way. They don't park with other cars in mind, and so it is quite the tight squeeze. Fortunately, and rare for a Saturday Night, I am stone cold sober. Walnut Creek PD, Contra Costa Sheriffs, Pleasant Hill PD.. quite the contingent of rollers. Out on the street, I see the K9 unit and a Danville PD cruiser. Danville? Danville is like 15 miles south of here! What's this one doing here? I guess shootings are rare enough in the Diablo Valley that they can act as a mini police convention.

Thinking the excitement is over, I finish up my computer work, and kick myself for the missed opportunity. The camera I use so frequently to satisfy my own vanity could have been of public use, I could have captured evidence, maybe even put a killer behind bars. I realize there were no ambulances amongst the fleet of vehicles clogging our parking lot, so I don't think anyone was hurt. Besides, I further realize that I was looking more for material for my own videos rather than being the good citizen.

I assume everything has wound down when I hear from out the window, 'ATTENTION ANYONE IN APARTMENT 2103!! THIS IS THE POLICE!! WE ORDER YOU TO COME OUT OF THE APARTMENT IMMEDIATELY!! KEEP YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR AND VISIBLE AT ALL TIMES!!'

There is no answer. I immediately go running out onto the patio, camera rolling. I see half a dozen policemen, guns drawn and pointed at the windows and doors of the dark and quiet apartment across the walkway from mine. They repeat their command. One of the cops notices me and yells, "GO BACK INTO YOUR APARTMENT!". I take two steps backwards and stand, still recording, from the sliding glass door. "IF YOU DO NOT RESPOND TO OUR COMMAND, WE WILL BREAK OPEN THE DOOR AND RELEASE THE DOGS!!" Officer Dog barks furiously in agreement.

Not out of any fear or desire to do my duty, I move to the bedroom and record from the window there. Better angle. A few moments later, there I hear the SLAM of a door being broken down. I hope my door is the same as theirs, as it took three full whallops before the door burst open. No gunshots. No sounds of struggle. No biker being dragged out hogtied. A light comes on, and then eventually goes off. Kind of anti-climactic.

Perhaps the worst part is that my camera is not all that good in low light... and although I have yet to preview the foottage, I'll put something together. My own episode of Cops: Walnut Creek.

In the meantime, here is the video that I was putting together all the time that the drama was ensuing. It's just another bit of silliness, but if you like Black Sabbath, Karaoke and Ping Pong, check out Joko's Thursday Night at Masse's.

Bamboodydo!

Part II of my open mic performance. Its only half the song because I broke a string right before I was going to transition into the guitar solo.

BAMBOODYDO!!!

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Joko Performs at the Open Mic

As the occasional emcee of TK's open mic, I decided not to perform up until now. That may sound unselfish or something, but really I was just nervous. This last Monday, I actually brought the guitar, signed up an dplayed. Had to introduce myself. Since I was performing, I couldn't film, so this video is just one long shot.


First Of 3. My Open Mic, Addicted To Pain - video powered by Metacafe

I can actually post them!

Lets see if this works...

Doritos Cashier

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Bud Light Immigrants



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Give a Little Love

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Top Super Bowl Commericals

The game is still going on, but I'm sure none of the sponsors will be saving any more commercial gems into the 4th quarter. I have no rooting interest for either team, so I actually became more interested during the breaks!

My top 3 commericals:

Honorable Mention: Taco Bell... Carrrrrne Asada...Like Ricardo Montalban!

3. Doritos: Flirting with the checker at the supermarket. Who knew snack foods, or BBW cashier ladies, could be so sexy! If I understood the little blurb afterwards correctly, the commercial was an amateur creation which won some kind of contest. Great job by a guy with his video camera and a friend at the supermarket!

2. Bud Light: Carlos Mencia teaches the ESL class. All humor has the potential to offend someone, and I think that South Asians might have been the only group they could have used and gotten away with this, but I'll be laughing for days at "Bud Light.." . . . "Bood Light"..."Bud Light!". . . "Bood Light", I doubt we'll see this commerical after the Super Bowl.

1. Coca Cola: Grand Theft Auto guy goes good. It was sappy, over the top, and maybe just a bit too feel goody, like-to-teach-the-word-to-sing-y, but it was surprising, funny and the best bit of CGI I've seen on TV.

Well, Indianapolis just had a big interception here in the 4th quarter, so back to the game.

10 years of Graphism

By far the strangest video yet.


The Hole - video powered by Metacafe

So I set the camera on the bar without thinking that someone might come and stand in front of it.

My latest exploits at Tomkat's open mic.

There will be guest emcee's for the next two weeks, which means I can bring my guitar and actually sign up to play. Gotta start practicing!


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Empty Office

Empty'>http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1677074291">Empty desks
http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf" flashvars="m=1677074291&type=video" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="430" height="346">
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More new videos

The YouTube embedded player gets the width all wrong... let's see how my latest looks using MetaCafe...


The N2O Experience - video powered by Metacafe

I'm still working on making my audio levels correctly balanced...

Oh! Deer!

My newest hobby: videography. It's amazing what the simplest software can do nowadays. I suppose it's not a new hobby; I used to use the family Super 8 film camera to make claymation stuff back in the 70's.

My other new interest: Emceeing.

Looking for a Lemur

I realize that a lot of my posts are about the office, but the branch manager is becoming more Steve Corell-like every day.

Yesterday, he comes out and asks the the team manager, "Dave, do you know where I could buy a lemur?"

This was not a joke. He seriously wanted to buy a lemur. A live lemur. This wasn't some weird Thanksgiving dinner dish.

"No, but Gil might know," Dave replied.

"Gil, where can I buy a lemur around here?"

I'm satisfied with my reputation in the office as being the "go to" guy in the office. If you have a quesiton, Joko probably knows the answer, but where to get a lemur, much less whether or not its ethical to even own a lemur, even I can't answer.

I didn't know and I responded as such. "No where around here, that's for sure." I was fairly certain that nowhere in the Walnut Creek/Pleasant Hill area could someone walk in and buy a live lemur. "E-Bay?" I suggested.

15 mintues later, the boss walks out from his office dejected. He actually found a source online to buy a lemur, spoke with one of the lemur salesmen, and discovered that California laws forbid lemur ownership in the state.

I'm sure the lemurs are very happy about that.

If you have to live in one of those more exotic pet friendly states, just for your information, a lemur will cost you $5000.

This post brought to you by the Madagascar Chamber of Commerce.

Halloween Story

Okay, so it's a week late, but I told someone I was gonna record this ghost story anecdote, so here it is.

In the Summer of 1986, I traveled deep into the Santa Cruz Mountains, up into Loma Prieta, with a group of friends. We were all teenagers, and we spent the day down at the lake, drinking beers and watching the empties slowly disappear over the dam.

By nightfall, we were out of beer, no one had any weed, nor were any hallucinogens floating around that night Dave's parents were out of town. We were desperate for some kind of entertainment. I don't know whose suggestion it was, but somehow, a Ouija board broke out.

I was not brought up to believe in God, but ghosts? Sure! Why not? My folks lived in a haunted apartment before I was born. Books on witchcraft could be found in the family library (maybe that was just a 70's thing), Before adolescence, I was really really into D&D. I thought these things could work.

Some of the people in the room didn't believe, and so for the first hour or so, the needle barely moved. Nothing supernatural was happening. Those guys left, and Corey, Kevin, Dave and I started getting some pretty weird and fluid movement of the pointer.

It just flew accross the board. Something was there. Being teenage thrillseekers, we wanted to see this spirit that was controlling our hands. We asked it to point to where it was in the room. The pointer moved to flame of the single candle that lit the room. I lit a lighter on the opposite side of the board from the candle was and then asked again...

point to where you are now

The rotation of the pointer could not have been accomplished by a single set of fingers very lightly pressed upon the plastic, so if you think one of us was moving it, you're wrong. I know I certainly wasn't moving it. As you might have guessed, the spirit had pointed directly at the lighter. I moved the lighter around in an arc. The pointer followed precisely. Next question.

Do you want to show yourself?

YES

then show yourself!

Nothing happened. We huddled, holding our knees up to our chins as we studied the flickering shadows high up in the corners of the room. We WANTED to see something.

Then I got an idea. What if one of us emptied our minds of thought, just opened ourselves up, and let the spirit show itself through one of us. I told my friends this idea. We put our fingers on the stylus.

Spirit, if....

YES

I didn't even get to finish asking the question. The thing shot over immediately to the YES answer. Of course, my friends all looked at me. It was my idea, I should be the medium.

So I got up, sat in a straightback chair on one side of the room, told the spirit I was going to relax, and to please show itself through me. I'd learned a very simple meditation technique a year or so before that seemed to fit what I was trying to do. most of us can never really completely turn off the mental chatter that is our everyday consciousness. Instead, what I would do is space out the

little


natural



pauses




between the words of my thoughts. Essentially thinking of nothing during those in-between moments. About 10 seconds into sitting there in mental blankness, I began to feel muscle spasms in my face. More intense than any twitch, my muscles were quivering. That was all I felt. No presence. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The other guys in the room were seeing something quite out of the ordinary. My entire face began to glow a bizarre green, my face became that of a hideously old man, obviously in extreme pain. They even saw my hair become slicked back.

What I heard was this: "Wha? Oh? Holy SHi!!WHOAH!!! Oh MY GOD!! JOKO!!! GET OUT OF THE CHAIR!!!" I heard a mad rush of feet as the guys stumbled and charged out of the room. On the way out one of them, I think it was Corey, grabbed my arm and pulled me from the chair.

Words cannot convey the feeling that entered me when I hit the ground. It's indescribable and it is one I hope to never feel again. Perhaps one word does suffice in desribing it: DEATH. Death passed through me. Intensely cold, mind gripping. I went into a seizure, spasming all over the carpet. For a full 2 or 3 minutes, I could not utter a single word.

Needless to say, the Ouija board got put away after that.

Other people I've told this story to have told me it was a stupid and dangerous thing my friends and I did that summer evening. I could have opened myself up to something that would not want to leave. For a couple years after the incident, I sometimes worried if the spirit might just show up. I hope I am in touch with my inner spirit enought that I am not at risk for possession, but to this day, I'm thankful for getting pulled from that chair.

Joko the Ticket Scalper

When my A's beat the Twinkies in the first round of the baseball playoffs, I felt compelled to go and see them in person during the American League Championship Series. Given my newly single status, I was even prepared to buy just a single ticket and go all by myself. Well, the spirit of the playoff baseball gripped the office and, and four of us all were going to go together. We went online and found four seats together for $150 each. Good value for a sold-out playoff game. Somehow, I got talked into putting it on my credit card. As the day approached, two co-workers backed out when it looked doubtful that we would be able to expense the excurcsion, but the slack was taken up when I offered a ticket to my dad, and the boss decided to take his father-in-law.

Today was the day of the game, and it didn't go too well. I might have witnessed Barry Zito's last home start in an A's uniform; we lost 5 to 1. Worse yet, the boss got sick, and couldn't go. Now I had two extra $150 tickets that I had to unload. I posted them on Craigslist. I had co-workers call friends and relatives. No takers. Three hours before first pitch, I boarded the train to the Oakland Colisseum, intent on selling the tickets at the game itself. Mind you, selling tickets at a sporting event for higher than face value is a crime, and (lately anyways) I'm really not a very good criminal.

First thing though, I had to eat. I skipped lunch. It was 3:00 by the time I got there, and I went to a little burger joint right accross from the train station. Turns out this place was the hangout of the professional ticket scalpers. Stragely though, none of them asked me if I wanted to buy tickets. Maybe they recognized me as another seller. I was sure to learn much, I thought! Then, as I was standing in line to order, I learned why none of them were approaching me. "What can we do for you, officer?" one of the dudes quipped in line behind me They thought I looked like a cop!

Well, I should have turned around right there and told them that no, I was no cop, in fact I was looking to do some business. I had decided that the easiest way to accomplish unloading the tickets would be to sell them to a scalper and let him re-sell them. Instead, being a bit nervous about the whole ordeal, I decided I probably wouldn't be able to break through their mistrust, and so I just settled in with my catfish and fries and tried to think of a new plan.

I've seen numerous scalpers on the bridge leading from the station to the stadium on previous visits to sporting events. My plan became to hang out on the bridge, watch the scalpers who would identify possible ticket buyers, and then come behind them and approcah anyone they were unable to make a sale with. I wanted to get my money back, but I really didn't want to get stuck with two worthless tickets.

What I saw on the bridge made me keep going. Three seperates scalpers were being written tickets by cops in the 500 or so feet of this bridge! I'm too old to risk getting anything more serious than a parking ticket.

Ah ha! I would work the parking lot! I start by wandering through the cars, making eye contact with everyone I saw, cryptically holding two fingers up by my chest, trying to tindicate I had two tickets to sell. I'm lucky I wasn't accosted for making inadvertant gang signs. This method didn't work. All I got were strange looks.

"Anybody need tickets?" I started going from one group of tailgaters to another, giving up on any subtlety. Some people stopped me and asked how much,. but they were just curious "what scalpers were selling them for." "I am no scalper!" I protested, "one of my co-workers who was supposed to come got sick!! That's all!!" Whatever. Time was ticking. It was an hour before game time.

I was ready to give up and go to the official ticket office to see if I could turn them in for credit, cash, anything. Finally, a scalper approached me and offered to sell me tickets. No, I told him, I am actually looking to sell. They were good seats. Field level. Behind the home dugout.

"I'll give you a hundred bucks for the pair right now," he offered. No way. I want to get what I paid for them. $150 each. Oh, no, that was too mcuh for him. Oh well. I wasn't selling for $50 each. I was resigned to the idea that if the tickets became worthless I would demand the full $300 from the boss who had taken ill. I walked away. The sclaper walked parallel to me, and I loked over at him, still feeling it was my duty to get something for the tickets. He consulted with another scalper, and then came over, saying very professionally, "work with me here." We haggled. My final offer was $10 from his, so I conceded and sold the pair, 1 hour before first pitch, for $75 each. I still plan on getting the other $150 from the boss.

We stepped behind a port-o-potty and made the trade. It occurred to me as I walked away that I had done nothing illegal! The face value of the tickets was $75 each! It's perfectly okay to sell them at face value, and I had $150 in cash in my pocket. My parting words to the guy were, "sell them to good people, I'm gonna have to sit next to them". His last words were, "I'm taking a big risk here."

Sure enough, his risk didn't pay off. Inning after inning went by, the A's fell bhind, and the two seats next to me and Dad remained empty. He hadn't sold them! About the 4th inning, another father-son pair appeared, smiling, and took the seats. I told them I had sold those tickets to a scalper and I was really curious what they had paid.

"We had tickets for section 254 (second deck, in the outfield), we gave him those tickets and $20 for these!! And we were given our original tickets for free!"

Looks like they made out the best.


Joko

Thirst and suffering

I've created a new blog dedicated to my metaphysical inquiries.

Please read and comment if you wish at

http://thirstand.blogspot.com

Joko

Let's go OAKLAND!!!

Yesterday, I called in to work and said I wouldn't be in because of playoff baseball. No *cough* *cough*.. oh, I don't feel good, lying stuff. The boss is a HUGE sports fan and said he completely understood. I came in at 1:30, stayed late, and have the same arrangement for today... A's vs Twins starts in minutes!

Yesterday morning, the boss warned that the senior national vice president over the entire arm of the company would be calling and would likely quiz whoever answered the phone on new important company guidelines. Be prepared. Of course, I wasn't there to hear that, and guess who answered the phone when my boss's boss's boss called? Yup. Me, giddy with excitemen after my Oakland A's beat the Twins.

He asked me trick questions, which I answered incorrectly but quickly recovered after realizing what he was doing. I got the equivalent of a B-, and I'm building the reputation for being the top dog in the office. Oh well.

Tomkat: New Wolverine fan

Tomkat has decided to move back to the Bay Area from Michigan where he went to find the peace and quiet of Middle America. He bulletined in MySpace that if anyone knew of any job, let him know. Coutrywide is hiring, so eventhough the one other person I recommended for this crazy job has, in some ways, regretted her decision, it could work out.

so I wrote Tomkat today:

"So I talked to my boss, told him about you, and he
said he'd like to talk.

First thing I told him is that you were in Ann Arbor,
and his eyes lit up. "Is he a Michigan fan!!?!" Jeff
is a huge Wolverine fan. He's got commemeratative
programs displayed in his office and a life size Tom
Brady (former Michigan Wolverine quarterback)
cardboard cut-out on one wall. He's got other Tom
Brady memorabelia (sp?) on the walls. Walking into
his office is like walking into an 11 year-old's
bedroom.

So if you come in for interview, look at the cut out,
say, "Tom Brady! Alllright!" and the job is yours.

Oh, and I told him you MOVED to ann Arbor to attend
more Wolverine games. Just fake it.

Joko

My mom on TV

http://www.animalhead.com/video/painting_gourmet_may06/

Greetings! how do I make links in blogger again? Click here to see my mom on TV!
href what?

I dunno.. if you can't click above just cut and paste into your browser

Changes

For the last 12 days, I've been searching for the right way to re-start this blog. I've done some very hurtful things to people I love during that time, and as a chronicle of my life, if I were to offer any public explanation for my actions, it should be done here. At the same time, these current affairs are so personal, they aren't something I feel I should webcast.

I did what I did entirely for selfish reasons. Perhaps that goes without saying. I ended my marriage, and because of the way I did it, I have probably ended friendships that we shared with other people. My future is very uncertain at this moment, which is both exciting and terrifying. I made this choice because I want to improve myself as a person and despite slipping back into some old bad habits that I used to have, from here on out, the path I'm on will be the path of my choosing (see my August 18th posting "Meaning of Life").

It's time to concentrate on work. Time to build a new life in a new place. I'm starting over once again.

Best and Worst Day of the Year

I'm no expert on the Gospels, but I know that Jesus was reported at one point to have said something like, "Never Boast. Those who boast are eventually humbled."

Was I ever humbled today.

Thr irony. I got paid today for the loans I closed in July. A lot of things fell into place in July and I ended up with my best month ever, finishing in the top ten in the nation amongst the 400 or so people nationwide who hold the same position as I within Countrywide. I wasn't shy about telling my referring partners about my success either. I figured it would be a good marketing tool; they'd be more likely to give me business if they knew I am a to producer. All this last month, I've felt on top of the world knowing a big paycheck was coming at the end of the month.

Today was also my last day to fund loans for my September 30th pay. During the last week, I lost over a million dollars in loans for one reason or another, but if everything went right today, I'd still end up with a good month. I spent the day frantically working the phones, doing everything in my power to finish things up. It worked too. I got what I needed to close the two deals I needed to finish up with today. On both loans, however, the borrowers I had been working with for weeks all of a sudden disclosed that they didn't have the funds they had expected for the down payment. Things fell through for them, and its gonna take a little longer to get the funds together. For me that meant that in one day, I got biggest paycheck of my entire life and learned that next month's check will have no bonus, turning the 60 hours a week I work into less than minimum wage.

To say its been an emotional roller coaster would be putting it lightly.