What’s a secret skill or ability you have or wish you had?
Lisa Simpson playing a saxophone.
I wish I knew how to play an instrument.
I’m a huge music fan…always have been. But I’ve never been able to play an instrument. I’ve tried, though. When I was in high school, my mom–who was my school’s computer teacher at the time–became friends with the band teacher and they convinced me to join band. I really, REALLY didn’t want to, but back then my mom had a habit of strong-arming me into doing things, even if I showed literally zero interest in them. I didn’t even know what instrument I wanted to play, but the band teacher told me to go with tenor sax. And even though I’d be the only person in the band that didn’t already know how to play my instrument, the band teacher assured me that he would teach me how to play, in between teaching the rest of the band what they needed to know.
Obviously, that’s not what happened. He never had time to teach me anything one-on-one, so I never actually learned how to play my instrument. To make matters worse, the marching band eventually went on a week-long class trip out of state. The band teacher had the idea that he would take us on a tour of colleges around the country. We’d get a tour of each campus and then we’d play with the college marching band. Sounds cool, right? Well, it was…for everyone else. For me, it was a nightmare. Because I got called out on not being able to play my instrument. Every. Fucking. Time.
The only highlight of that trip was the tail end of it. We were supposed to tour some college in Atlanta (I can’t remember which one, maybe Clark?) and the college’s band teacher had to cancel last minute. So we were essentially stuck in ATL for a day or two with nothing to do. We ended up just going to Atlantic Station and walking around for a bit. Cool place, even though I’m not really a fan of malls.
A few months after that trip, and halfway through the school year, the band teacher ended up quitting the school. The rumor was that he got up to no good on the trip and someone found out, but no one knew if the rumor was true or not. I didn’t really care, honestly. I was just glad that I was able to take my sax back to Guitar Center and get some decent money for it. After that, I never touched an instrument again. But part of me still wishes I had actually learned how to play that sax, instead of just being promised a lesson that never happened. Oh well. Maybe one day.
Thanks for reading.
Song of the Day: People Under the Stairs – Blowin Wax
One of my favorite songs of all time that also has some sax in it. RIP Double K.
“You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?”
I’m glad this is one of the WordPress writing prompts, because I recently took a road trip for work. So this prompt is basically perfect timing. And honestly, nowadays, car seems like the best option, in my opinion.
That being said, let me tell you more about the trip. It all started about a month ago.
I currently work for the autonomous division of a major Japanese automaker. They do both autonomous and normal data collection. Data collection is where you drive a vehicle with cameras, LiDARs, and computers connected to it on assigned routes, making sure that the computers are logging data properly. The car companies essentially use this data to make all their automatic driving features—like adaptive cruise control, etc.—function better. The company I work for uses this data to improve their autonomous software. However, in order to do the autonomous testing, you have to get a specific certification called a Middle Class license, which you get by passing a driver evaluation. (Think of it like the license trials in Gran Turismo.) And the only way to do the driver eval is to go to their proving grounds…in Arizona.
Because I’m just a contractor, the company doesn’t pay for the trip, the contract company does. You can either have them pay for all the accommodations—which means you get the cheap version of everything (flight, hotels, rental car…IF you even get a rental car)—or you can pay for everything yourself and expense it to them. Not only did I opt for the latter—I had enough money saved up and I didn’t trust them to do the booking because, as I said, they go cheap on everything—but I also opted to drive.
That’s right. I decided to drive from Michigan to Arizona. All 2,000 miles of it.
My road trip route, from Michigan to Arizona.
Why, you ask? Well, to be honest, I hate flying. I’ve always hated it. And the last time I flew, it was…not a great experience, to put it mildly. Plus, I had a few paychecks saved up, so I decided, why not? It helped that my boss said he would approve literally anything I expense to the company—within reason, of course. (Even though the contract company gets the expense, my boss still has to approve it first.) So I told them I’d pay for the rental car and the hotels between Michigan and Arizona. All they had to pay for was the Arizona hotel (because Arizona hotels are HELLA expensive). So, I booked the rental car and hotels a week in advance. But things went wrong pretty much from the start.
When I told my mom about this trip, she wanted to know how I would be able to give her the personal car—because, as I’ve shared on here before, we currently share a car. So my plan was to pick her up in the morning and we could go to the rental car place, which was located inside the Flint airport, then I would leave for the trip immediately after, so that I could get a decent start on the road. That was the plan, anyway.
Here’s what happened:
DAY 1: MICHIGAN TO MISSOURI
My route from Michigan to Missouri.
9:30 AM: Picked up my mom. This was the easy part. 10:01 AM: Arrived at Flint airport. Also easy, since it was just a straight shot up I-75. 10:01-10:25 AM: Drove in circles, looking for the rental car place. The GPS waypoint was essentially way off from the airport terminal, so I didn’t even know that the rental car counter was inside said terminal. I’m used to rental car counters at airports being sectioned off from the rest of the airport—that’s how Detroit Metro does it. 10:35 AM: I walked into the airport and found the rental car counter. When I attempted to pay for my rental, the clerk informed me that, sorry, we don’t take debit cards, just credit. Shit. Fortunately, he also told me that any of the company’s other locations that aren’t located in airports will take debit. Thank goodness. 10:40 AM: While still in the Bishop parking lot, I called another location—turns out, there was one 5 minutes away from my mom’s place (why did we drive all the way out to the Flint location again?). They had a rental! And gave me a shit-ton of discounts cuz I’m a rewards member! They told me it’d be ready at 11:15. Nice! 11:05 AM: Halfway there, rental place called me and informed me that, sorry, we won’t have any cars available until 3 PM. Fuck. 3:05 PM: Picked up the rental. It’s a ’25 Nissan Rogue*. I had originally asked for a midsize sedan, but they gave me a free upgrade to a midsize SUV. (Mom joked that they probably gave it to me because they didn’t have any sedans. Lol, seems legit.) 3:15 PM: Said goodbye to mom and now I’m FINALLY on the road! 5:51 PM: Drove US-24 W in Indiana, ended up in a blizzard. Like, visibility-less-than-five-feet blizzard. And the giant wind gusts just made things worse. I knew it was bad because in the median, I saw a semi that had jackknifed and hit a guardrail. Luckily, on Indiana highways, the shoulders and median are wide, so even though the semi jackknifed, it didn’t block traffic. 12:30 AM: FINALLY MADE IT…to Columbia, MO! Completely exhausted and spent, I checked in to the hotel and instantly fell asleep. What a day.
* The Rogue is actually pretty nice! Hella roomy, comfy seats, and decent stereo. The engine seems a bit underpowered at times, the lane-centeringhas a habit of “ping-ponging“in the lane, and CarPlay doesn’t work, but other than that, I’m impressed. I’d give it a 7/10.
DAY 2: MISSOURI TO TEXAS
My route from Missouri to Texas.
7:30 AM: Checked out of the Missouri hotel. Was actually pretty decent. 3.5/5 stars. 8:30 AM: CARPLAY FINALLY WORKS!!! I guess the car just needed to stay off for a while. 10:30 AM: Saw the aftermath of a rollover crash on I-44 W. It looked like a car hit a car hauler, then one of the cars ended up on its side. Paramedics etc. were already on the scene by the time I drove past it. It’s always tough seeing crashes on the roads, but you have to keep moving. It’s simply a part of the drive, sadly. 11:30-11:50 AM: Stopped for lunch in Joplin, MO. Nothing special, just some Wendy’s, since I hadn’t had it in a while. I don’t know when they got chicken tenders, but wow, they were actually really good! 12:55 PM: Pulled over at a rest area in Claremore, OK. Got tired out of nowhere. (Pretty sure it was the itis.) 3:48 PM: Wind turbines!!! Saw some on I-40 W. Sadly, I couldn’t get a picture of them myself–a lot of these states are hella strict about phone stuff while driving (as they should be). 4:46 PM: On The Radio – Norah Jones Is Playing Along One of my favorite podcasts is Norah Jones Is Playing Along. Norah Jones interviews fellow musicians and then improvises music with them. It’s super interesting. This episode was with Lady Wray and she went really in depth into her background, including her relationship with Missy Elliott. Definitely worth checking out if you’re a music fan. 6:45 PM: FINALLY MADE IT…to Amarillo, TX! My Texas hotel is inn-style, so I probably won’t like it. A hotel with an open courtyard and an L-shaped building where I have to walk in a half-circle just to get to my room door? No thanks.
DAY 3: TEXAS TO ARIZONA
My route from Texas to Arizona.
5:45 AM: Checked out of Texas hotel. As I suspected, I hated it. Bed was squeaky as hell and the walls were paper-thin so I heard everything that my neighbors were doing. 2/5 stars. 6:15 AM: Ah yes, the infamous IH-40 manure/livestock smell. I can never unsmell it. Even with the recirculation on in my car, I STILL smelled it. Yuck. 9:10 AM: Further down I-40 W, I spotted a hitchhiker. People still do that, apparently. Wild. 9:18 AM: In the opposite direction (I-40 E), I saw the aftermath of what looked like a semi trailer that exploded (!!!). Traffic was backed up for miles. Police, etc. had just started showing up by the time I was driving past the scene. I don’t have a pic of it, unfortunately. (This is gonna be a recurring theme. I’m not really a picture guy, especially when I’m driving.) 10:18 AM: On The Radio: The Whispers – (Olivia) Lost and Turned Out I love this song. My first time hearing it was after finding out that Curren$y–one of my favorite rappers–sampled it. It also reminds me of a woman I used to know. That’s a story for another time. 3:37 PM: FINALLY MADE IT TO ARIZONA!!! As I pulled up to the hotel, my ears finally popped. That’s when I knew I had officially made it. (Those winding highways on the way in are no joke.)
So, did I learn anything? Well, I learned that driving can be better than flying, as long as you plan properly. And crashes are, sadly, an unavoidable part of being on the roads. As long as it doesn’t happen to you, all you can do is keep moving. Also, drink lots of water. It helped me out a lot.
In Vol. 2, I’ll talk about my experiences at the Proving Grounds.
Thanks for reading.
Song of the Day: Lice (Aesop Rock & Homeboy Sandman) – Who Sent You?
Best cover art I’ve seen this year (so far). Their new album is great too.
“Life is a highway I want to ride it all night long…” –Tom Cochrane, “Life Is A Highway”
When I tell people that I’m a test driver, the first question I usually get is “How’d you get a job like that?” And as much as I wish the answer was interesting or unique, it’s really not. It’s actually quite easy to get a job like this. Let me tell you how I started.
Back in 2013, I was at a crossroads in my life. My personal life wasn’t great at the time, mom had shut down her computer shop, and I was just taking temp jobs to get a little money here and there. Eventually I ended up getting a job at a mail sorting facility. The first day there, I instantly knew that I was gonna hate it. Luckily, I didn’t end up staying there very long, because my third day there, I got a call back from another job I had applied to at around the same time. It was a job at a temp company (which had a contract with a major auto parts supplier that supplied parts/data to all of the Big 3) for an infotainment tester. For those of you that don’t know, infotainment is the fancy word for radio systems in cars. At the time, I had no idea what infotainment was (I didn’t even have a touchscreen radio in my own car, since I was driving my mom’s work van at the time, which was a 2005 Chevy Venture*), but the job requirements were very minimal–literally all you needed was a high school diploma and minimal knowledge of technology–but because I had just started a job, I was hesitant of quitting my current one for one that I didn’t know much about. But my mom convinced me to try out the automotive one. It couldn’t be that hard, especially if the requirements were slim to none.
So, I put in my 2 weeks at the mail sorting place and on the 3rd week, I started at the infotainment job. The job itself was fairly easy–you simply rode around with a driver in a test vehicle on assigned routes, testing all the features of the radio. At first, the hardest part for me to wrap my head around was the checklist. It was insanely long. But my supervisor assured me that it only seemed long because I was new to the job and eventually I’d be flying through it without a problem. And she was absolutely right.
An average day at my job went like this: I’d show up to the facility–which was essentially a giant garage with offices, cubicles & conference rooms for the engineers upstairs–at 5:00 AM. The working hours were from 5 AM to 1:30 PM. I never got used to waking up that early. It was a pain every time, especially because I’ve never really been a morning person. Once I got there, my supervisor–the lead radio tester–would give me my assignment and the key desk (exactly what it says on the tin) would start handing out vehicle keys to the drivers. Every radio tester got assigned a kit, which was a plastic box that contained everything you needed to do your testing: a smartphone, a USB stick pre-loaded with music (which was always terrible), a CD (which they eventually phased out when the cars we were testing stopped having CD players installed), and charging cable for the phone. At first, the testing checklists were handwritten, which was a GIANT pain. Because we were on the road so early in the morning, we’d need the map light on to write. A lot of drivers hated that, to the point where they’d either politely ask you to not turn the map light on or–in the case of one driver, who REALLY wasn’t a morning person–forcefully turn the map light off themselves. Eventually, though, the company switched to iPads for the checklists, which was much easier. You’d still hear complaints from drivers (“Ugh, get that screen glare out of my face!” etc.), but you can’t win ’em all.
A map of one of the routes for my old job.
As for the routes, there were 5 letter routes (A through E) which were the main ones. Each route was ~300 miles and had a mix of city, country, and highway roads. You’d start in southeast Michigan, where the facility was located, and drive all over the state. Most routes stuck to the thumb area though. There were shorter routes, such as the one the electric minivans drove, which was a simple 45-minute loop consisting of streets around the office. The main letter routes were my favorite, although some were better than others. And on the weekend, you’d end up driving ~400 miles, because the routes driven on the weekends were all highway roads.
The worst part of being an infotainment tester was the driver assignments. You never knew what kind of driver you were gonna be paired up with. Because I almost always worked AM shift (I worked PM shift there one time to get some extra hours but those people were so loud & obnoxious I never did it again) the drivers were mainly old grumpy white guys. Which is fine–I can get along with almost anybody. But some of them were really stuck in their ways and took the whole “driver is in charge” thing a bit too far. One time, I got paired up with a said old grumpy white guy and literally as soon as we got in the car, he looked over at me and said “I don’t want to hear any rap in my car, alright?” So I looked at him and nicely said, “It’s not really your car, so…” He didn’t say anything else to me the rest of the day. Eventually, when the lead radio tester got a promotion and a different job within the company, I became a lead radio tester, which also meant I got to become a driver. Test driving was so much better than radio testing, especially post-COVID, when they got rid of radio testing altogether.
I was at that job for about 9 years and then I quit, mainly because I was a temp the entire time. Not once did they offer me a direct hire position, even though I was told multiple times by multiple full-time employees that I was one of the best drivers they had. I put in my 2 weeks notice there and, on the third week, I got hired at another company. I’ll talk about them in another post. Stay tuned.
*My mom actually found that van completely by accident. Back when we first bought it, my mom still had her computer shop and was looking on eBay for some metal shelving for the store. But a listing for a minivan kept coming up in her searches and she couldn’t figure out why. Turns out, the van had been part of a fleet for a bank and the back seat rows were removed to make room for some custom metal shelving. She bought the van–we had to drive down to Ohio to get it–thinking we could use the shelving to store parts, tools, customers’ systems and whatnot. Sadly, after she closed her shop, and a year into my radio testing job, the engine in it died. We ended up buying a 2012 Dodge Avengeras our next car. The ironic part is the entire time we owned that van, we rarely used the shelving to store computers or computer parts. Other than the name we gave it (Vanna White, because it was white and…well, you get it), I never really liked that van. If it had only been a work van, I would’ve liked it a lot more, but eventually it became our only vehicle, which made driving very uncomfortable. My mom misses it a lot more than I do.
Thanks for reading.
Song of the Day: Ray Vaughn feat. Samara Cyn & Sydney Leona – JANKY moral COMPASS
“I’m tired of being shot down, put down and dissed I wanna be picked up, held tight and kissed But things like this don’t happen to dudes like me Because I’m more Coldplay than I am Ice-T” – Murs, “The Pain”
⚠️ CW: Brief mention of domestic violence ⚠️
*Some names have been changed.
It’s Valentine’s Day. Pretty pointless holiday, if you ask me. I’ve always believed that if you really, truly love someone, then you don’t need a day to celebrate it. Because you should be celebrating that love every single day. That being said, though, I’ve never really been in love. Well…that’s not entirely accurate. I guess maybe I’ve experienced unrequited love. But that’s really about it.
So, seeing that it’s V-Day, I figured I’d take you through my love life. Don’t worry, this won’t take long. However, to give you the full picture, I’ll have to take you back a bit.
I was born in 1985 in Cincinnati, Ohio. Mom was a model (she had a brief contract with Ford Models at the time) and dad was a pro football player (he played tight end for the Bengals, Eagles, and Giants, but spent the most years with the Bengals). They met at a party. I don’t know much about my dad other than what my mom has told me about him, because shortly after I was born, he walked out on my mom and I. Unbeknownst to her, he had 4 other families and didn’t want a 5th.
My dad wasn’t a good man. He simply wanted my mom to be arm candy and nothing more. He wouldn’t even explain the rules of football to her, because to him, football was a “man’s thing” and “why do you need to know anyway” so when my mom would hang out with the other WAGs at the games, she would have no idea what was going on. When they disagreed on things, he hit her, several times. I won’t go into detail, but the damage he did to her was pretty bad. That, plus the aforementioned multiple families thing, is why they got divorced when I was less than a month old. After that, it was just me and her. Until my grandparents got sick.
My grandparents were high school sweethearts. My grandfather was a Welsh man. My grandmother was a Creole Black woman–her family was from Shreveport, Louisiana. Both were only children, and their parents were also only children, so both of their families were very small. And even though interracial relationships were highly frowned upon back when they first got together (according to my mom, my great-grandfather hanged himself on my grandfather’s wedding day, because he didn’t want his son marrying a Black woman), they got married anyway. And they stayed married for over 50 years. Eventually, my grandmother was in a car accident and became legally blind. Then she became bedridden. By the time I was born, the senility had set in for both of them, so they were barely talking to each other. My grandfather would hang out in his “computer room” (that’s what we all called it since it was an office with my grandfather’s computers, books and whatnot, but really it was more of a man cave) and turn the TV in there up loud enough to drown out my grandmother’s voice. Then the bad habits came. The cigarette-smoking. The pipe tobacco. The alcoholism. Several decades later, my grandfather passed away from pneumonia. Three weeks later, my grandmother died of a stroke (apparently it’s possible to literally die of a broken heart). Even through all of the bad times, the love was still there.
Then I grew up. Would I experience that kind of love for myself? The answer may shock you. Just kidding, it probably won’t.
I’ve never been good at talking to women. Everyone always says it’s easy, but it’s not. And people always give the same advice. “JuSt Be YoUrSeLf.” Sure, tell my nerves that. But that didn’t stop me from trying.
First, in 8th grade, there was Bethany*. Prettiest girl in school, and she knew it too. One day she approached me and asked if I had a girlfriend. Of course I said no. Then she asked if she could be my girlfriend. Of course I said yes. Then, when I saw her the next day, she pretended to not even know me. Laughed at me in front of all her friends and said something like “Ha! As if I’d let a guy like HIM be my boyfriend!” I shrugged it off and went about my day. How do you even respond to something like that?
Then, high school. You might be surprised to learn this, but high school wasn’t a good time for me. In 9th grade, I ended up going to a boarding school for the first semester. Not as punishment, mind you…quite the opposite, actually. I was friends with the principal of my middle school and he ended up leaving that school to go be principal at a boarding high school in some small town in Ohio, so I ended up going there too. It was a VERY small school. I’m talking less than 30 students in the entire school. While I was there, I met a girl named Evelyn*. She was super pretty AND super nice–the perfect combination. One day, while we were walking around campus I sang Sara Smile to her. She was impressed with my singing, but even after I officially asked her out, we agreed to just be friends. There were others. There was Rochelle*, who was my age and liked me a lot, but I was too shy to officially ask her out. Plus, her big sister Ashley*, who was in 11th grade, didn’t like me anyway, so she wouldn’t have approved. Then there was Julia*, who liked how much I was into computers. Keep in mind this was 1999, so the Internet was just starting to get put into schools and whatnot. Unfortunately I made the mistake of telling one of Julia’s friends that I had a huge crush on her and word got back to Julia, who pretty much stopped talking to me altogether after that. Didn’t matter, anyway, since my mom eventually pulled me out of that school after one semester because of my shitty grades.
From the second half of 9th grade to the first part of 12th grade, I went to an all-Black Catholic school. It sucked. I never felt like I fit in there. Some of the girls there were cool though. One girl I met there in 9th grade had the same last name as me and we used to always joke that maybe we were actually related and just never knew. I wasn’t her type, though. Then there was Amelia*, the homecoming queen. I had French class with her and she apparently had the hots for me. I simply thought she was just messing with me, but every time we had class together she would wink and blow kisses at me. Even invited me to sit in the back of the class with her once. She kept saying how she wanted to go to prom with me and I kept brushing her off, thinking she wasn’t being serious, because what the hell kind of senior wants to go to prom with a freshman??? So, prom came and went, and she ended up going with some other guy. I found out later from one of my friends that yes, actually, she wanted to go with me and NOT the other guy, but because I was too dumb to pay attention to her signals, she thought I wasn’t interested.
Then in 10th grade, there were two girls that liked me a lot, Maria* and her best friend Jessica*, who were both in 12th grade. Maria was a fine Latina girl and Jessica was a Black girl with freckles. I never met a Black girl with freckles before and Maria was fine as hell (even with her braces), so I was immediately drawn to them both. Plus, they were both super nice. So nice, in fact, that one day Maria gave me her number (!!!). Did I call it? Of course not. In my mind, she was just being nice. No way would she ever actually want to hang out with me. Turns out, yes, actually, they both did. But nothing ever came of it. They eventually graduated and I never saw them again. (Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Years later, after I graduated high school but still lived at my grandparents’ house, Jessica worked as a cashier at the drugstore up the street. I saw her there one day and recognized her. We talked for a minute, but again, nothing ever came of it.)
12th grade was weird. For whatever reason, the principal decided to shake up everyone’s class schedules and many 12th graders (including me) ended up in classes with 9th and 10th graders. That’s how I met her. Allison*. The first girl to ever really, truly like me. She was a freshman. Black, cute face, had her hair cut like Halle Berry back in the day. She was also very, ahem…well endowed. Okay, she had huge boobs. There, I said it. Anyway. One day, I was eating lunch by myself (I was the only 12th grader in my lunch period and didn’t know anyone else other than the teachers) and I looked across the room and saw her. She kept whispering to her friends at her table and looking back at me. Oh great, she’s laughing at me. Fucking great. Then she walked to the front of the room, said something to my English teacher, and pointed to me. Why TF does she keep pointing at me??? Then she approached my table. We talked for a few minutes. She saw me reading a gaming magazine (I used to bury my face in magazines at school so that people would leave me alone–obviously, it didn’t work) and we talked video games for a minute. She had a PS2 like I did and was heavy into RPGs–she loved Dark Cloud at the time. Then the bell rang and I quickly speedwalked to my next class.
Later that day, she called me at home. Apparently she got my number from one of my friends at school. We talked on the phone for hours. It became our daily habit. Eventually, one day she decided to ask me out. I don’t remember how she did it, but it was very casual. Unfortunately, after we were dating for a couple of months, I ended up transferring schools. It happened so fast that I didn’t even get a chance to clean out my locker. One day, I called her after school and decided to break up with her. She was simply too much younger than me and, to be honest, she got very attached to me and I just didn’t know how to handle it. I’m used to girls rejecting me. Laughing at me. Teasing me. And now all of a sudden one comes along and she’s literally obsessed with me? And she thinks I’m handsome? Laughs at all my corny jokes? How am I supposed to handle that??? Truthfully, I didn’t know how. But the main reason I broke up with her is because at my new school, I told some of my classmates that my girlfriend was younger than me and they started laughing at me, calling me R. Kelly. I told her this and she suggested that we keep seeing each other in secret and simply just not tell anyone. But I didn’t want to do that because it didn’t seem fair to me or her. So I broke up with her and never heard from her after that.
Fast-forward some years and I’m helping my mom run her computer shop. At this point, after being single for a long time I had decided to try dating again. So I made a profile on OKCupid. That’s when I met Tiffany*. She was a BBW (it was right there front and center in her OKCupid profile so I guess she was okay with the term), short, glasses, shoulder length brown hair. We talked on OKCupid for a couple of weeks before we eventually met in person and we hit it off pretty much right away. She majored in music at the college up the street from my mom’s shop. She was also a huge nerd. At first we bonded over our mutual love of video games, but we also found out we have similar taste in music too. We hung out constantly. The problem was that we were both huge introverts. One day just for funsies, we both took the Myers-Briggs personality test. Turns out, I’m INFP and she was INFJ. Eventually I learned that two introverts will probably never end up in a relationship with each other. Because eventually somebody has to take charge of something. But neither of us did. She was one of those “I don’t like putting a label on things” types and I didn’t want to pressure her into anything, so we pretty much just stayed friends with benefits.
Then, when things in my personal life got bad (that’s a story for another post), we lost touch with each other for a while…until one day she hit me up on Facebook and told me she was getting married. To a woman. I was hurt at first–I used to joke to my friends that sex with me was so bad that I turned her off of dick altogether–but I got over it. I’m just happy that she’s happy. Even if it’s with someone else. And yes, she invited me to her wedding…and no, I didn’t go. I figured it’d be too awkward for me being there, so I pretended I had something else to do that day and completely forgot about it. We still keep in touch nowadays…somewhat. We’re “friends” on PSN, so I see her online once in a while. But neither of us has reached out. I’m okay with it.
So. What was the point of all of that? I guess I don’t really know the meaning of true love. But of course I don’t. My dad left when I was literally just a baby. I was born too late to see my grandparents’ relationship at its peak. And even when my mom dated around and eventually got remarried, my stepdad (RIP) wasn’t around long enough for me to pick up any pointers on love from him, either. Maybe I’ll never have a relationship like my grandparents. Maybe I’ll fall in love again. Or maybe I’ll just be single forever. Only time will tell. But I’m hoping that I’ll be happy with whatever happens. Because happiness is very rare for me nowadays.
Thanks for reading and happy Valentine’s Day.
Song of the Day: Jill Scott – Pressha
Jill Scott is back! Her new album is great. Highly recommended.
Bonus Song of the Day: Von Pea & The Other Guys – Chasing Amy aka In Your Heart
So, the Grammys were last night. I know, I know…who gives a fuck, right? I used to care a lot more about the Grammys, but truth be told, my music tastes have changed dramatically over the years, to the point where I hardly ever listen to the radio anymore–it’s mainly Bluetooth for me. I recently got a SiriusXM subscription for my car, but it was mainly to appease my mom, because we currently own a car together (she bought it, I was her co-signer, but I do 95% of the driving). I find myself listening to it maybe once a month, usually when I don’t care what’s on in the car and just need some background noise. My go-to station is SXM Chill, but, as with my music taste in general, I’ll change it up dramatically depending on my mood. I mainly stick to the rap/R&B stations when I’m in the mood for the popular stuff (The Flow and Flex2K are two of my newer favorites) and every once in a while I’ll put on the comedy stations too (the Comedy Central station is great and so is the Kevin Hart one). But in general I’m pretty out of touch with what’s popular. If I wasn’t in a group chat with a bunch of my like-minded music fan friends, I’d have no idea what’s currently trending. Gotta love being 40.
Anyway, I got sidetracked, where was I? Oh, right…the Grammys. A friend of mine posted “Grammys just started” in the gc and, even though I was pretty immersed in some NBA 2K (my franchise mode Pistons made it all the way to the Finals!), I decided to watch it. So I booted up my work laptop and cued up the broadcast so that I could half-pay attention to it while the majority of my attention was focused on 2K.
So, without further ado, here is my review of the 2026 Grammys:
The Host:
Ugh, Trevor Noah. Look, I don’t hate the guy–he was great on The Daily Show and his stand-up is usually pretty solid. But as a host, he’s terrible. And cutting the majority of the awards out of the broadcast to make room for his milquetoast-ass comedy skits is lame. Good thing this is supposedly his final time hosting it. Although, let’s be real–hosting award shows nowadays is a thankless job. Just ask Jo Koy.
The Performances:
Most of the performances weren’t bad, even though I had no idea who a lot of them were (I had a good laugh at the one guy that looked like Mike from Stranger Things). I’ll be honest, I tuned in a bit late, so I missed the opening with Bruno Mars and ROSÉ performing their song “APT.” The general consensus seems to be that they killed it, though, which is a given considering it’s Bruno. He also performed again later, for some reason. (I’m not a fan of his new song, tbh.)
Clipse and Pharrell performed their song “So Far Ahead” from the new Clipse album, backed by a choir. I’m not a fan of the new Clipse album either (those beats were terrible) but the performance was great, so credit where it’s due. Congrats to Clipse on their Grammy win too. Speaking of Pharrell, he accepted the Dr. Dre Global Impact Award, which is cool but considering he’s currently in a fight with his former Neptunes partner Chad Hugo, it seems a bit odd. Especially since Pharrell didn’t seem to mention him during his acceptance speech. Hmm.
Tyler, The Creator performed some songs from his newest album Chromakopia. Both the album and his performance were great, so I was stoked. He also won the first-ever Best Album Cover award, which was cool to see. Good for him.
As far as the rest of the performances, I sort of half-remember the rest of them (although the Sabrina Carpenter one definitely stood out for…obvious reasons), but for the most part I thought they were pretty good, especially Lauryn Hill’s D’Angelo tribute. I just wish there were more of this and less of the Trevor Noah comedy nonsense.
The Actual Awards:
Let’s be real…the Grammys haven’t exactly nailed the actual giving out of the awards in quite a long time (I’m honestly shocked #GrammysSoWhite never became a thing). But this year I was pretty happy with who won. There were a few outliers (they just won’t stop giving Billie Eilish awards, even for her mid joints), but overall I was impressed. Bad Bunny winning AOTY was definitely a shock, though, and I’m even more hype to see him do the halftime show at the Super Bowl next week.
Final Thoughts:
Overall, the Grammys this year were a nice distraction from *gestures wildly to everything* and wasn’t as crappy as it has been in the past. My only wish for next year is for a better host (or just do away with a host entirely like the VMAs did) and more televised awards. Also maybe don’t let Jelly Roll go full Southern baptist minister on everyone again because oof, that was scary.
Thanks for reading.
Song of the Day: Leon Thomas feat. Freddie Gibbs – MUTT (Remix)
Shoutout to Leon Thomas for killingit at the Grammys last night!
“I get no kick from champagne Mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all So tell me why shouldn’t it be true? I get a kick out of brew…” – MF DOOM, “One Beer”
Happy New Year, everyone! Let’s make 2026 a good one. Today, I figured I’d tell you the story of the best worst New Year’s Eve party I ever went to. It happened to be the same year that my stepdad passed away.
December, 2009.
Back then, my mom had a computer repair shop in a local strip mall. I helped her run it for a couple of years. Inside the strip mall was an Internet café/gaming spot called The Chill Zone. I used to hang out there after work pretty much every day, to the point where I became friends with the guy that owned the place. The place itself was pretty cool (no pun intended). There were about 30 TVs mounted to each wall, with a couch in front of each one. He mainly had Xbox 360s connected to them, but there were a few PS3s scattered around the place as well. I spent so much time there that he’d basically let me stay there until closing, as long as I paid for a couple hours of play time.
One day, I was there and the owner approached me. “Hey Don, what are you doing for New Year’s?” he asked. Nothing, I said. Why? “I’m having a New Year’s Eve party tomorrow night after closing time. Everyone 21 and over is invited.” Wait, what? How’s that gonna work? “Well, I don’t have a liquor license, obviously, so it’s gonna be B.Y.O.B. Feel free to bring in whatever you want.” Cool! I’ll be there.
I showed up right around 10 PM. The owner had blacked out all the glass windows and locked the door, so I had to knock on the door to get in. I walked in and he was behind the front counter, mixing up some kind of drink. What’s that? I asked as I pointed to a red Solo cup. “It’s a Jägerbomb! You ever had one?” I shook my head. The only alcohol I had experienced up until that point was Guinness (my first ever beer) and Heineken (my 2nd ever beer). For the uninitiated, a Jägerbomb is Jägermeister mixed with Red Bull. “You want to try one?” I shrugged. Fuck it, why not. I drank it quickly. It was pretty good! I drank another one. “Yo, take it easy with those, man, they’re pretty strong.” I drank another one. They barely felt like anything at first, but a few minutes later, I already felt a little buzzed and the owner could tell. “You gonna be okay, man?” I think so. “Alright…I’m watching you, man. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he said, laughing.
A few minutes later, everyone else started showing up, bringing whatever leftover booze they had in their cabinets at home. That night, I had every kind of liquor you could possibly think of. Rum Chata. Black Russian. White Russian. You name it, I probably drank it at some point. Eventually someone decided to start up a game of Rock Band and Drunk Me decided to be the singer (I’m normally the drummer).
Later that night, I was sitting in front of one of the TVs across from the front desk, playing GTA IV. On the couch next to mine was some girl that I wasn’t talking to–because even Drunk Me doesn’t know how to approach women that I don’t know. The owner’s girlfriend–who stood next to him behind the front desk the entire night–thought I was gay. “Nah, he’s cool. He’s just quiet,” said the owner. I ignored both of them and kept driving the streets of Liberty City. Eventually I got hungry, so I paused my game and went to the station of paper plates and snacks that was set up next to the front desk and fixed me a plate, then went back to my couch. A few minutes after eating, I felt sick. Uh-oh…this isn’t good. I ended up puking on the couch (luckily the girl next to me was elsewhere and didn’t see it). Even in my drunken state I realized that I needed to clean it up, so I stumbled to the food station and grabbed some paper towels, but because I was wasted I ended up making the mess even worse.
The owner looked in my couch’s direction and saw it. “Did you do that?” he said, pointing. I nodded. “Yo, you gotta clean that up,” he said. My bad, dude. I tried. “Don’t worry about it, man, we got this.” I got up from the couch, moved out of the way, and the owner & his friend zipped the felt cover off of the couch cushion and ended up throwing it in the dumpster behind the building. I learned my lesson that night: always eat before you drink alcohol.
From that point on, whenever I went to The Chill Zone, I’d see the one couch with no cover on it and remember that night. The owner ended up closing The Chill Zone about a year later. Apparently he had gotten a pretty big investment to open the place and the investor was expecting a sooner ROI than the owner expected. My mom ended up closing her computer shop, too, but that’s a story for another post.
So…here we are. My first post. I’m gonna be honest, I’m kinda freestyling it here. I haven’t had a blog in over 10 years (remember Livejournal???), so I’m a little rusty.
I guess I’ll start by telling y’all who I am. Although if you’re reading this, you probably already know who I am. Whatever. Anyway. I’m Don, but most people call me DJ. I turned 40 years old this year (my birthday was in August), but I don’t feel it. I definitely look it, though. The thing no one tells you about aging is that it happens all of a sudden. One day you look at yourself in the mirror and you barely recognize yourself. You have gray hair where it used to be black. You have a gut where your flat stomach used to be. And you make more noise getting out of and into chairs than the Planet Express landing*. It’s all downhill from here, or so I’ve been told. But, as I said, I don’t really feel it. Not yet, anyway.
I test drive cars for a living…hence, the name of this blog. I’ve been driving professionally for over 10 years. I’ve worked for several different companies, including the one I currently work for. I’ll use this blog to share some of my experiences from the automotive industry. (No specifics, obviously. They make you sign NDAs longer than a CVS receipt.) I’ll also share some stories about my life and things I’m into…music, video games, and whatnot.
Notes From The Slow Lane 
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