aaron schwab

just as i’d exhausted my initial new camera gear enthusiasm, Joe dropped by the university today while i was working and told me that i overlooked a present he snuck into the box i brought my new camera and lenses home in. and what an item to overlook — a Nikkor 10.5mm f2.8 fisheye lens. i’m positively without appropriate words to explain my gratitude and excitement. holy smokes.

and that’s putting it rather mildly. let me recap my Thursday at work:

this week was our second week of shooting engineering grads at the U of W, and as mentally exhausting as it can be, i think i’m starting to get into the groove and get used to the daily motions, as they’re starting to feel like just that; motions, and not terribly burdenous anymore. the day had the added twist of Tim coming in after the last session was done to be a guinea pig grad for Mary, the soon-to-be new grad shooter that Joe is training. i don’t know how often i’ll be working side by side with her, but she’s awesome; i won’t reveal her age, lest she ever somehow stumble across my blog, but she’s incredibly youthful and peppy, has a great sense of humour and is just a ton of fun overall. Joe’s an awesome boss, and i suppose i shouldn’t be surprised to see that he only hires champs.

after leaving the engineering department and parting ways with Tim, Joe and i ended up driving to Toronto so he could buy a lens (a gorgeous Nikkor 28-70mm VR f2.8), and some of the conversation there (and most of the conversation back) revolved around his backgrounds in art school and photography, and even though Joe, if left uninterrupted, talks non-stop, he’s a fascinating guy to listen to.

after our wee T-Dot journey, we came back to Kitchener with the intention of dual-shooting Porcelain at the Boathouse in Victoria Park. we ended up being unable to, though, since one of the band members was injured and the band had to cancel their set, which was a bummer because the wonderful Gran Casino was onstage when we got to the venue. of all the KW bands i still have hope in, Gran Casino is near or at the top of that list — any band that makes a first impression on me with a set that includes a Refused cover is okay in my books.

there was a bit of a silver lining to that part of the evening, however — okay, more than a bit. a whole shitload of it, to put it eloquently. there was a lot of lead-up and explanation in the conversation to it, but Joe has essentially opted to upgrade my personal camera gear instead of paying me for a specific number of grad proof jobs (which i do from home and receive a per-unit rate of pay.) so instead of the money he’d owe me to do this set number of jobs, i received what i’m seeing as the holy trinity for shooting bands and portraits: a 24-120mm VR zoom lens, a 12-24mm wideangle lens (i’m a total sucker for super-wide lenses, and the 12-24mm is just butter on a DX body) and a D300 camera body. i can barely wrap my head around the sheer joy this news brought me, how incredibly generous and genuine my boss is and how appreciative i am; i actually have a boss more concerned with my personal needs and aspirations than what he owes me and “thanks, talk to you next payday.” i’m in shock, truly. what a guy.

the 24-120mm, as shot with the 12-24mm:

the 12-24mm, as shot with the 24-120mm:

and the proud owner’s new snail goo trail, as shot with the 12-24mm on the D300 body with SB-600 speedlight:

and as if this wasn’t enough joy in my heart, my weekend, which will consist of some combination of Phil’s, band practice and an evening with Cagney to ourselves, is going to kick insurmountable ass.

in spite of my lack of visiting The Dan’s cottage, my weekend has gone rather well. as for things regarding the cottage trip, i went to Chris’s place this evening to discuss the details of what exactly went down, and i’m afraid i may have misjudged the situation before discussing it with him. i was, quite frankly, poised to be rather pissed off at Chris over a couple issues, but as much as i wanted to be angry at him for the sake of a conclusive emotion, i can’t bring myself to think as harshly of him as i had during the past couple of days. i’ll be the first person to admit when i’m in the wrong or have a fault regarding something, and i have a couple in this particular situation, and i feel Chris does too. fortunately, i feel like most (if not all) loose ends are tied up here and, with better planning, i’ll be trying to make it up to The Dan’s cottage again soon, as everyone is apparently planning to make the trip again in a month or so.

last night was my second Phil’s night in a row, with CT, Candice, Jon and Lindsay this time. i think i may have met my match in the form of the dance floor — turns out that i can’t quite bust my grooves for an extended period of time if i’d busted all of them out the previous night. but whatever, it was a fun night anyways! even though i’m definitely noticing lately that friday’s music is far superior to saturday’s at the ol’ watering hole.

today was my first venture to Cagney’s place solo to feed her kitty while she’s out of town for a little while and seeing as i was out on my bike (surprise, surprise), i decided to take a ride through downtown (to reiterate my “surprise, surprise” …)

“would you like to take a free stress test?” of all the weird things said to me by strange people in downtown Kitchener, this is … well, this is definitely one of them. and it was coming from a man in his mid-60s from a seat at a table littered with copies of Dianetics in front of downtown Kitchener’s Church of Scientology. i thought for a second, sipped my decaf triple iced cappuccino and said to myself, “why the hell not!”

so i sat down in a seat opposite this kind-looking man and took in each hand a hollow metal cylander, both of which were hooked up to a machine with dials and a big needle gauge. the scientologized old man then gave me some simple instructions to test my stress levels, such as asking me to think of a “situation in life,” a person i wish to help and something that troubles me. because, you know … the best way to gauge someone’s psychological make-up is through devastatingly personal inquiries such as a situation in life (and that’s as specific as the questions got.)

as it turns out (according to this gauge, at least), i’m not a very stressed person. forgive the eyeroll, but thanks Miss Cleo! not like i could’ve simply told you that. after a brief and general discussion of stresses in my life, i was shown a copy of Dianetics (i actually own a copy for some reason; my mom, working with books as she does, brings odds and ends home now and then, and i’m guessing our copy of Dianetics was likely one of these cases) and told how it can, for lack of a more specific explanation, improve my life and allow me to help and heal everyone i love.

my first raised eyebrow throughout this fiasco came as i was subjected to two metal tubes hooked up to a wavering needle that can allegedly gauge my level of stress (fact: the gauge on the machine actually bobbed up and down when i squeezed the tubes harder, and i didn’t have the heart at the time to tell the man administering my “test” that his machine is a crock of shit.) my second raised eyebrow came from the man’s explanation of Dianetics, and how scientology is my be-all, end-all solution to, well, everything. the “quick-fix cure-all” is an angle used by scam artists and cult recruiters to prey on the self-doubt and desparation of those among us unfortunate to not have found their backbone, so i was understandably skeptical. and if i had three eyebrows, the third one would’ve raised upon the man’s presentation of a free gift to me; an introductory Dianetics DVD:

now, i pride myself in being as openminded and levelheaded as i possibly can be; it’s an area of my personality that i continuously strive to uphold, maintain and improve upon (though i’m sure i, just as everyone else, slip up from time to time.) i’m 99% sure that scientology is about as legitimate as any of ODB’s kids, but now my curiosity has been spurred; i’m going to watch my complimentary DVD and read my copy of Dianetics (most likely with yellow highlighter in hand) so that i can have some meat to my argument when i decry scientology as bullshit from now on. it’ll feel nice to be more educated on a stance that i’ve all but already taken up, but i’m not sure i need the reinforcement — after all, read some of the sourced testimonials from Mr. Hubbard himself. doesn’t sound like someone in whose hands i’d place the direction of my life.

after biking away with DVD in pocket, i went a few streets up and over to a band practice hall — the likes of which i only learned of today — to watch the practice of a fledgling band of Chris’, with his brother/ex-bandmate Paul and ex-bandmate Hutton on bass and vocals respectively, not to mention an incredibly talented guitarist, also of ex-Guelph/Cambridge band pedigree. what i heard was amazing; there’s a hell of a lot of musical talent between the four guys i watched today, and i can’t wait to see how it turns out!

anyways, i rant and rave (and will likely do so again after my literary journey into L. Ron’s literature.) it’s late and i need to be up earlyish to feed wee Zipper and possibly do a little jamming with Tim. i, for once, actually sat down and wrote a few riffs today so i’m stoked to hear what Tim has to say, and also to hear what ideas he can come up with for them on the guitar.

for reasons i won’t disclose in full here, it turns out i’m at home this weekend (my second consecutive three-day weekend, as Joe is covering my monday shift at work so i can make it to a touch-up tattoo appointment.) i was really looking forward to being up at The Dan’s cottage with everyone, but some unforseen scheduling mishaps and miscommunications led to everyone leaving this afternoon before my shift was over — i couldn’t even get off fifteen minutes early, let alone a couple hours. and that’s all well and good, as i understand i’m quite needed at grad sessions and wouldn’t shortchange my co-workers, especially on such short notice. bummed about the situation though i may be, my weekend isn’t looking terrible — a late-night bike ride up to Waterloo for bubble tea and an evening at Phil’s with Candice and Cagney tonight got it off to a good start, and dancing was fun as always, in spite of how sleep deprived i am from the week (as i type this at 3:30 in the morning. you’re a quick learner, Aaron!)

tomorrow and sunday should be pretty lax, and on monday afternoon, my half sleeve will be getting officailly finished! my session should only take an hour or two, as there’s only four or five little spots left that need colour. even though 95% of it is done, the bits of unfinished colour still jump out at me every time i look down, so it’ll feel incredibly satisfying to have a complete piece on me. i won’t get too far ahead of myself in terms of planning what work i’ll get done next, but suffice to say i’m stoked for it, whenever and whatever it is.

on another note, word on the street is that i’ll be jamming sometime next week with a band i’m friends with, as they’re looking for a bassist. i’m by no means leaving Phineas Gage and will continue to prioritize making music with Matt and Tim, but i figure playing with these guys could be fun, whether it’s just as a temporary fill-in or as a more longterm member. i guess it’s left to be seen whether or not it works out, both in terms of musical chemistry and time commitments. should be fun, regardless!

… i’ll tell you everything thrilling about my last two days at work (which were our first two days of shooting UW’s graduating engineering students of 2009):

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… okay, so the past couple of days have been pretty pedestrian. unfortunately, i haven’t yet fallen into the rhythm of going to bed at a reasonable time and getting up early, so work has felt that much more unpleasant, and this upcoming weekend surely won’t facilitate decent resting habits; it’ll be my first time going up to The Dan’s cottage for the weekend with Tim, Chris and The Dan himself (surely i could just refer to him as Dan, but this particular Dan has been deemed rad enough to warrant an article in front of his name.) i expect to have a ton of photos chronicling our alcohol and fireworks-fueled fun after coming home from the cottage but for now, i’m gonna hit the hay and hope the fatigue that was plaguing me earlier — that somehow disappears mid to late-evening — comes back in time for me to get at least a decent night’s rest.

decidedly mellower than the Friday and Saturday — i spent the bulk of both days sleeping and just doing nothing. i know that’s kind of a counterpoint to my usual M.O. of trying to keep busy, but i just felt a little lazy, and so be it. i did take a quick bicycle spin tonight, however, running into Lili, Jo, their son Harper and Lili’s new puppy on the way home, which was a pleasant chance encounter.

seeing as i have to be at work by eight in the morning tomorrow, i’ll probably finally force myself to go to bed early, but not before finally watching Factory Girl. it’s kind of bothering me that i have yet to watch a movie that my girlfriend lent me four months and change ago.

my May 2-4 weekend (which is a total misnomer, as it’s only the 18th and next weekend is legitimately the 24th) is going well thus far. last night was a Phil’s night that i sorely needed — i didn’t even do my usual amount of dancing i do there; it just felt good to get out and socialize with some decent people instead of sitting at home, which would’ve been my other option.

tonight’s foreboding monotony of staying in was interrupted by a barbecue and party at Chris Taylor’s place of residence in Guelph, the LSM Haus (which is a bit misleading, as only one of LSM’s seven members lives there currently, along with Chris and Jon.) calling this evening “random” might fit the bill; the night started out with a small group of people centered around Guitar Hero III on a big-screen HDTV and my veggie burgers on the grill, and somehow grew into a fairly packed house party which included drunken trampolining and a backyard game of Killer Kings which involved several instances of dudeity. all in all, a hilarious night, and i can finally say i’ve been to one of LSM Haus’ infamous parties, even though the dude i was going to facially Sharpie never quite passed out deeply enough for me to do so. shucks.

it’s a 5.10 at least; i hazard to speculate even a 10+.

i’m talking about one particular wall at the Grotto that has consistently and ruthlessly kicked my ass the past three or four visits to the Grotto in which i attempted it. it wasn’t even the wall as a whole that killed me; it was really one particular spot. a left-hand three-finger hold, specifically. left hand fully extended with three fingertips wrapped around the top of this hold, right leg hyperextended to toe a shitty little slippery bugger straight out to the right, and left leg tiptoeing on a solid piece straight down. and whilst in that precarious position, the only option is to put all of your weight upwards between three fingertips on your left hand and your right leg (which, remember, is stretched straight out to the right), and palm a big sloper with your right hand, which — even though it’s worlds better than the fingertips you’re keeping yourself up with on your left hand — can only hold you for a second or two while your left hand goes for a more solid grip. i swear, this damn wall took me over a month to conquer, but after getting past that one spot tonight, i breezed up the rest and finally hit the ceiling. and boy, are the tendons in my forearms ever tense; i don’t think they’ve ever been stretched out that far.

this wall totally drained me tonight, but dammit, i did it. even though i did the rest of my climbs that night with sub-par arm strength, i’m just stoked that i turned the tables on that one wall and made it my bitch instead of vice versa.

alright, that’s probably not true. but it doesn’t surprise me that, within the span of time it took me to sit down on the planter outside Popeye’s yesterday and eat my two slices of pizza after work yesterday, i was offered “really good prices” on golf equipment from a passenger shouting at me from a stopped car (stolen goods, much?) and witnessed a man drive by and shout “HOOKER!” at a woman standing on the corner of King and Eby, after which said woman started throwing seductive looks and poses to men in vehicles as they rolled up to the stop sign at the corner.

not that i’m without my sense of hometown pride (actually, i’m lying; i’m almost completely devoid of it), but it simply doesn’t shock me that said shady business would transpire in Kitchener. maybe i’m a little ignorant in saying so and maybe i’m a little quick to judge Kitchener without knowing the full scope of what my hometown of 500,000 people and change has to offer, but seriously — fuck this place. i mean, it could be worse, but Kitchener feels like a very depressing place sometimes. sure, we have a kickass coffee shop in Matter of Taste and a wonderful independent record store — hanging on for dear life by its fingertips though it may be — in Encore Records, but the place just feels lifeless a lot of the time. well, it’s full of life if you take into account the throngs of crazies that like to inhabit the downtown core, but you know what i mean.

even a cursory look at towns like Waterloo or Guelph will show examples of a better bar scene, friendlier locals, better venues for live music, better musicians to play at those venues, cleaner streets and less of a weird smell in the air. even most of the fun i have on weekends (and some weekdays) comes as a result of said fun taking place in Waterloo or Guelph. with the job i have now, i don’t know how realistic it would be for me to pick up and move far and wide, but i don’t see it as unrealistic for me to end up in one of the two aforementioned cities in the coming years.

i’m long overdue for getting this down in writing. the upcoming rambling is a lot more introspective than most of my entries, so bear with if you continue reading.

i’d like to start off by saying how great my Saturday was — i was whisked away to Stratford rather last-minute by Cagney, whose good friends Sara and Jeff told her she basically wasn’t allowed to come home this weekend without bringing me out for an evening on the town. so she did, and i’m glad i went. her mom apparently likes me, as was shown by her constant successful attempts to feed me. she told me she likes people who eat and don’t pick at their plates, and i assured her that i have no caveats with eating when food is thrust upon me. the evening saw the four of us — Cagney, Sara, Jeff and myself — head to Jeff’s for a few drinks before going to a Stratford bar called Othello’s for another drink, after which we headed to the dance club portion of Othello’s called the Attic, which is predicatably situated above the main pub. to summarize my evening, i had a blast. Jeff is awesome, Sara is awesome, going out in Stratford was awesome and Cagney is awesome.

but, to address the title of this blog and get on to my personal manifesto of sorts, i’d like to point out an extremely minute fact: i had two beers over the course of the evening last night — one with dinner and one that Jeff offered me at his place. for most people, this would be small beans, and truthfully, it feels like small beans to me, except for the fact that i, well … don’t drink. what’s more is that i’m generally known, by most people who know me, as the guy who doesn’t drink a drop. i don’t hold onto the ideal of being a non-drinker with the conviction of, say, someone who claims (and adheres to) straightedge ideals, but i generally do not drink alcohol. last night brought my lifetime drink total up to six:

buttershot — spring/summer 2005
polar bear shot — fall 2007
polar bear shot — spring 2008
Jägermeister shot — spring 2008
bottle of Rickard’s White — spring 2008
bottle of Maclays — spring 2008

though my entire history of alcohol consumption up to this point consists of only six drinks, it’s still clear that two thirds of those have happened this year and, truthfully, within the past month or so. now for a few thoughts and issues swirling through my head, as i sit on the fence between someone who claims to not drink and someone who does drink:

in telling people that i don’t drink, there’s a certain sense of pride — not in the sense that i feel it’s a more righteous choice than drinking, but in the sense that it makes me feel good to know and prove that i can and do have a good time when i’m out without feeling the need to rely on any sort of ingestible vice. by the same token — and this is how i feel i’m separate from those who claim edge — i don’t feel that consuming alcohol makes someone “less” of an individual, or a worse person in any way. when people ask me why i don’t drink or have never been inebriated, i simply say i have no desire to participate in said activities. i’m equally quick to point out that i have no problem with drinking (as long as moderation and self-control are exercised, and the person controls their substance intake and not the other way around) and that i indeed will drink or do whatever if i ever feel like it; i don’t have some huge moral barrier preventing me from doing so. it’s my choice if i feel like drinking and it’s my choice if i feel like not, and i feel the two are interchangeable. and this would be a perfect outlook on the idea of drinking for me, i think, if it weren’t for the fact that i do indeed have a very “clean” record, so to speak, when it comes to ingesting intoxicants. the question i’ve been asking myself more and more frequently of late, however, is: how significant is my clean slate to me? i mean, it almost feels like having said clean slate garners a certain level of respect for my self-control from my peers, but the novelty of that wears off and after it sinks in with people that i don’t drink, it’s no more or no less impressive to them if i were to drink. so i can rule out abstaining from alcohol for social cred. and if i’m not going to use it to impress anyone else, i certainly don’t need to abstain from drinking if my only motive to continue doing so is to impress myself.

the other notion that i’ve brought up to myself numerous times is the concept of inhibitions. generally speaking, i’m not at all a fan of the notion of holding myself back from a new experience. if i may speak broadly and name an example that uses similar rhetoric: if i have a chance to travel somewhere i’ve never been and have the opportunity to see and feel and experience new people and places and things i’ve never encountered before, i’d feel foolish and i’d feel as though i were cheating myself out of living, per se, if i allowed my window of opportunity to pass me by. now, while i realize i can live a rich and fulfilling life without ever touching a drop of alcohol, it’s the concept of a self-imposed inhibition that irks me about myself. while i’m fully aware that i don’t need alcohol for any reason (up to and including socializing at the bar, as i’m incredibly used to doing that sober), the idea that i’m consciously holding myself back from experiencing something bothers me. it doesn’t matter that i may or may not be better off with said inhibition; it’s with the inhibition itself that i take issue. and hey, if i start casually drinking and decide i don’t like it, i can justifiably reimpose said inhibition upon myself without the looming question of “what if” above my head. granted, i’d then be without my squeaky clean substance record, but as stated in the above paragraph: who really cares?

as for a final decision on “to drink or not to drink,” it almost feels unfair to myself to have to choose one extreme or the other; it’s far from a black-and-white decision, and i believe choosing the grey area in between is the best for me on this issue; i’m going to feel it out as i go, basically. i’m not going to abstain from drinking alcohol if i feel comfortable doing so, nor am i going to dive head-on into raging alcoholism. i’ll simply do what feels right for me, disregarding any and all labels that have been (or can be, or will be) placed on my drinking status. i’m going to feel it out as i go and do what’s right for me.

i realize i’ve probably repeated myself a few times at points throughout this blog; this whole piece of writing has been entirely steam-of-consciousness, and i hope it makes sense.