Smilodon (part 1)

       Smilodon. Sometimes, though incorrectly, referred to as the “Saber Tooth Tiger” (incorrectly because, although it was a large saber toothed cat, it was not a tiger). My favorite prehistoric mammal of all time. Not just because it was one bad ass MoFo. This devil is truly in the details.
       The process of examining, analyzing, and understanding why we are powerfully drawn to something can be a worthy pursuit. Understanding our attraction to something, or somebody, is ultimately a process of self discovery. We can use this opportunity to know ourselves better. Like a mirror, such knowledge reveals facets of ourselves that may lie below our surface. We can usually superficially explain why we’re attracted to something, or somebody, but if we have the motivation to dig deeper, we not only embark on a journey of self knowledge, but we often surprise ourselves with what we discover.    
       Since I’ve loved the Saber Tooth Cat since I was a little kid, I wanted to know more about the animal when I got older. What I found out not only made me love the beast even more, but, again like a mirror, reflected pieces of myself back to me. It evolved into far more than just boyhood fascination. The more I discovered about what this animal was, and how it lived, the more that information drew me in and inspired a deeper connection. The more I found out about Smilodon, the more I identified with the animal. Sort of like those cases when the more you get to know someone, the more you grow to like them. Or love them.  
       Smilodon was robust (6 1/2 feet long, weighing about 700 pounds). That’s pretty massive compared to modern day big cats, but compared to it’s contemporaries, it was not a gigantic carnivore. It was, however, one powerful son of a bitch; very muscular and supremely well built. Well right off the bat, I can relate to the animal physically. Because that’s how I aspire to keep my physical vessel, and I’m an average size man.
       It was not an endurance hunter, but the fast and furious kind, possessing explosive speed and power. Once again, I can relate. I’m a drummer. We tend to be explosive. I was a sprinter in high school, and, even though I’m a runner, I’m not a distance machine. I’m built for shorter races, not marathons.
       The big cat would stalk it’s prey methodically, putting itself in the best position to strike quickly in an ambush. Now, I don’t consider myself particularly stealth. With anything. In most cases, you can see me coming a mile away. But I have the capacity to be quite methodical. I adore studying strategy. And I actually appreciate subtlety and nuance very much. I’m very intrigued by people who possess those qualities and use them with aplomb.
       Moreover, in my approach to life, you will discover a fair degree of nuance to it. Sometimes, however, those nuances fall so far outside the lines that they appear anything but nuances. They in fact may appear outrageous. You could say I’m one big Outrageous Nuance. Kind of like Smilodon. Get to know us. We’ll surprise the hell out of you.
       I’m fascinated by subtlety, and know that in some cases it serves me to cultivate it. It just isn’t my natural style. I have to work at it. But I very much appreciate the quality, and I respect people who display it.
       More than a few times, I’ve heard that, between the way I dress, my physique, my overall appearance, and first impressions from a relative distance……well let’s just say that people don’t always expect me to be intelligent, articulate, deep, gentle, friendly, and warm.  
       In part two, I’ll dig even deeper into this. Between now and then, maybe you’ll start asking yourself about your own fascinations. Maybe you’ll be inspired to examine something you are drawn to, and what it might say about you. Then you’d be on this ride with me. And that’s more rewarding than doing it alone.  



©2014 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

Larry's Rhythm Wallet

I wrote this at a writing workshop at Omega this summer. The exercise was to tell a story, about a wallet, using nothing but dialogue. It was quite challenging for me, because I had never written dialogue before. The format is that of a screenplay, where the character's name appears over his or her dialogue, which isn't in quotations.

                       BANG

Hey man, can I borrow your wallet?
                    
                        LARRY
Excuse me?

                        BANG
Can I borrow your wallet? You can take everything out if it. I just want to borrow the wallet itself.

                        LARRY
What for?

                        BANG
Well I’m recording a rhythm pattern over there on my laptop, and I need to hit something else to create another tone. When I hit the wooden table with my drum sticks, it gives me the chick sound. Hitting the wallet will give me the boom sound. Ya know, “Boom/Chick, Boom/Boom/Chick".......

                       LARRY

Yes, I get it. But that’s…….ridiculous. I’m not lending you my wallet to record drum sounds.

                        BANG
C’mon man. I’m really onto something here. I’ll even give you a writing credit when the song gets made.

                        LARRY
Yeah. That’s a real incentive.

                        BANG
I’m serious, bro. What’s your name?

                        LARRY
Is this some sort of a scam? Because this sounds like some sort of a scam.

                        BANG
No man, no scam. I’ll sign something right now that gives you a writing credit for this song. Draw some agreement up on a napkin or something and I’ll put my John Hancock on it. Movie deals have been made over those kind of arrangements. Remember the film The French Connection?

                        LARRY
Yeah.

                        BANG
Well a dude made a boat old of money off that film ‘cuz he had a napkin signed by the producer, Phil Dantoni. Look it up. True story.

                        LARRY
Really? I love that movie. But look, this still seems weird. I’m sorry. Plus, I’m an attorney. It would look bad if I signed a legal agreement on a napkin.

                        BANG
Well I can dig that. My lawyer would probably freak out if he were asked to sign a napkin too.

                        LARRY
Who’s your lawyer?

                        BANG
Teddy Hack.

                        LARRY
Teddy Hack? From Hack, Ream & Shyster? The entertainment firm?

                          BANG
Roger that, Perry Mason.

                        LARRY
Are you in a band?

                        BANG
Bingo.

                        LARRY
Anybody I might know?

                        BANG
Maybe. Ever heard of "Mind Crisis"?

                        LARRY
Mind Crisis? You’re in Mind Crisis? So you’re the drummer, Bang? Formerly known as Stan Kablonski?

                        BANG
Bingo again, man.

                        LARRY
I love you guys! I didn’t recognize you without the long hair and the fu manchu mustache.

                        BANG
Cancer treatment will take away the hair, and I didn’t like the evil mad scientist look, so I shaved off the ‘stache.

                        LARRY
You’ve got cancer? I’m sorry to hear that. That hasn’t been in any of the music rags or trades.

                        BANG
I’ve kept it quiet. Don’t want my folks to know. Maybe after I beat it, I’ll tell them.

                        LARRY
Well I would be happy to lend you my wallet for your rhythm track. In fact, you can keep it. I hate that fuckin’ wallet anyway. My mother in law gave it to me.

                        BANG
Far out man. I’ll name the song…..what’s your name?

                        LARRY
Larry. Larry Van Pulin.

                        BANG
I’ll name the song "Larry’s Rhythm Wallet". How’s that?

                        LARRY
That's great! Thank you! This is too good to be true.

                        BANG
No man. I’ll tell you what’s too good to be true. Staying alive through this awful disease to be able to make music for people like you.

©2014 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

Linebackers Drummers And Love (part 2)

 To get more from this writing, please read part 1, Linebackers Drummer and Love     

       Try this at home, kids. Put on a great guitar solo. Eddie Van Halen is my favorite. He’s amazing to listen to. Admire the virtuosity, the skill, the speed, the melodic forays, the originality, the feeling in his soloing. But try dancing to it. Try banging your head to it. Try moving to it. Good luck.
       Now, put on a great drum solo. And when I say great, I don’t mean one where a dude just wows you with his speed and technical ability. I’m talking about a solo where the drummer lays something down; like a killer groove that your body feels compelled to move to. Where you can’t help but shake and shiver and bounce. Now tell me, which solo evokes something more primal? Which solo packs more of an emotional wallop? It could be that I’m totally biased, because I’m a drummer. But I don’t think so. I’ve seen this for myself a million and one times. At gigs. At concerts. And in my own home.      
       The whole point is emotional content. Now again, I’m talking in the context of rock music and football (which actually have a lot in common). I’m not talking about a solo performer playing an acoustic guitar and singing. There can be shitloads of emotional content in that. But that type of performance has got very little in common with football. If I’m looking for high energy, body moving, balls to the wall feeling, I look to rock music. And football.    
        In football, a linebacker who nails somebody so hard they see stars is equivalent to a rock song that makes you want to bang your head, shake your booty, or fuck your girlfriend. And the root of that energy in song form is the drummer.
        A linebacker who attacks a ball carrier is like a man grabbing his woman, throwing her on the bed, and positively ravishing her. At least metaphorically (I’m not referring to imposing your will against a person who wants something you don’t. I’m referring to consensual adults). Again, it’s about setting the emotional tone. It’s about bringing a certain energy to something that creates real fire. This particular fire is aggressive. Passionate. Powerful. And beautiful. It really is. All true fire is.
       One of my goals moving forward is to assist people, both men and women, in BRINGING IT more to their lives. To their loves. There is a beautiful, primal, animalistic, passionate, fiery fury that is missing from a lot of lives out there. From a lot of lovemaking out there. From a lot of relationships out there. Both men and women are responsible. I get that many of us are afraid to let ourselves go. But we can all learn a lot from drummers and from linebackers. Because both breeds know how to bring a passion and a fury and a primal force and a love to what they do. Both breeds know how to bring it.
       Don’t you want to see that in a drummer? Don’t you want to see that in a band? Don’t you want to see that in your lover?
    Yeah. I thought so.

©2104 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

Just Say No To The No of Yes

       My buddies and I at Villanova had this saying. The rock band Yes had released an album, 90125, during my junior year. It was actually a really kick ass, somewhat intricate but relatively straight forward rock record. But all the other progressive mumbo jumbo stuff they had done for most of their career before that didn’t interest any of us. About this same time, the saying “Just Say No To Drugs” was getting very popular. Well somehow, we married our distaste for most of the music of Yes with that silly slogan. Whenever the band’s name came up, one of us would say, “Just Say No To Yes”. It’s a running joke between all of us that still has milage today when we get together.
       For some inexplicable reason, our little saying came to me during meditation this morning. That’s one of the great things about meditating first thing. Not only is the brain less cluttered that time of day, but the mind is closer to the subconscious, having just awoken from sleep. Now, I admit,  some pretty wacky things float through my mind all day, but a lot of the wackiest shit hits me early in the morning and later at night. Which is probably why I do most of my writing at those times. It’s kind of my own personal “Magic Hour” for writing.
       This morning, “Just Say No To Yes” made me laugh aloud, and took me out of my meditation for a moment. But when I was through, my mind started riffing on the phrase, and something else hit me: how often in life do we say no to yes? Meaning, how big a role does resistance play in our lives? For most of us, a pretty significant one.
       This theme of resistance came up for me at Omega this summer during yoga, and I wrote about it my piece I Hate Yoga. I know that the more I’m saying "yes" in my life, the richer my life becomes. That doesn’t mean an indiscriminate “yes” to everything, meaning I can’t say "no" because I’m a people pleaser or don’t take care of myself. But it does mean that I pay attention to my own resistance. It means that I’m aware of the nature of my resistance. Is my resistance born from fear, and if it is, what is that fear? Most importantly, I examine where I am coming from. Am I coming from fear? Or am I coming from faith? Which really means coming from love.
       If there is a piece of me saying yes to something, and a piece saying no, which is not uncommon in many life situations, I want to know what’s running me. If my fear is running me, I’m in resistance mode. It’s important that I be able to discern my resistance. What am I afraid of, and is that fear blocking me from something I may want?
       Fear is a motherfucker. Most of us are fear based in at least one major area of our lives. Career, self image, money, physical security, sex, appearance, and the big one, intimate relationships.
       I can have fear in all of these areas. That’s normal. But how big a role does my fear play? Again, am I running it, or is it running me? Fear will not usually stop me from say, wearing something I want to wear because I fear what people will think. Fear will rarely stop me from writing about something I want to write about because I fear people will judge me. But I’m practiced at both of those. I take risks in both areas all the time.
       With intimate relationships, though, there can be an awful lot more at stake. Our hearts. Our beautiful, tender, precious hearts. I get that. But the principles are the same here as they are with what I wear or what I write. If I want something real, I have to take risks. I can’t let fear run me, or I will not be able to assess what’s my own voice, or voices, and what’s the voice of fear. And fear is an easy default, because it keeps me safe. There’s a saying that goes “A ship in a harbor is safe. But ships were not made for harbors.” The same is true of our hearts. Our hearts were not made to be closed, or fear based, but that’s how they get through the years because of all the hurt.
       How do we break this cycle of fear? We keep taking risks. We keep coming from faith, from love, instead of coming from fear. We practice. We never get it perfect, but we gradually pry open the grip of fear.
       It’s a lifelong process, this unraveling of our hearts. But it’s the only way to get to what we all want more of. Love. In all its forms, incarnations, and manifestations. A closed heart will never be able to give or receive love in a way that serves our soul.
       Today, I practice coming from faith, coming from love, instead of fear, in any and all my endeavors. I don’t do it perfectly, but I’m always at it. Relentlessly. Fastidiously. Open heartedly. I really want to radiate love to the world, as much and as often as I can.
       It’s risky, it’s not always easy, but it is the way I want to live my life.


©2014 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

Linebackers Drummers And Love

       Football. I love the game. The strategy. The physicality. The break downs and the analysis. Out thinking your adversary. The emotional power of the game. Mano a Mano. The nature of the sport reeks of masculinity. Which is one big reason guys love it. And also why a large number of women dig it too.
       At some point, I became more drawn to defense than to offense (special teams never did jack for me). As is my nature, I want to better understand that switch in preference. Because it could say something about me and about my development. Maybe not a lot, but you never know until you start digging. And I love to dig. When you dig, you usually discover. When you discover, you potentially become aware. And that awareness opens up the possibility for growth and transformation and a whole host of other goodies. All of that often starts from a little digging.
       Digging by myself is great, but I love to dig with other people too. I should have a bumper sticker that reads “Digs Well With Others”; meaning I will go on a deep dive with anybody who thirsts for self discovery and hence self creation. I believe the two are intertwined. But that is another topic altogether, and one I will tackle some other time. Back to football.
       At the Boston College Graduate School of Management, my Strategic Management professor, Hassell McClellan (one of my favorite teachers of all time) told me something that I’ll never forget. He knew I was a drummer, and one day he imposed this particular wisdom on me. He said, “There are two types of football players. There are football players…..and there are linebackers. There are two types of musicians. There are musicians….and there are drummers.” I got it. Immediately.
       Linebackers are animals. And I mean that in the best sense of the word. The best ones are aggressive, fierce, predatory. They play with a passion and an intensity that borders on the maniacal. They bring a barely controlled reckless abandonment to their play. Traditionally, more than any other position, on either side of the ball, linebackers set the emotional tone of the game.  
       Have you ever seen a great drummer? Tell me that the aforementioned description of linebackers doesn’t also apply to the best drummers. At least the best rock drummers, who are the ones I am most familiar with, and with whom I most identify.
       Twenty five years ago, Professor McClellan’s insight gave me a little window into myself. I remember processing that statement and examining my own relationship to football. And to drumming. And to myself.
       The thought of running with a football over, through, or around defenders excites me. But I have to say, sticking a ball carrier so hard that they lose their helmet….well that excites me even more. Why? Because, with regards to emotional tone in football, a thunderous hit means more to me than a touchdown. Let me explain.
       Setting the emotional tone, and playing with a fury and a passion that boils the blood, is more central to the game of football than scoring. Scoring is the objective. Scoring is the goal. But I’ve always been more of a process kind of guy. For me, the process is often where the juice is. A goal without a juicy process, or at least a part of the process, that I can sink my teeth into, is much harder for me to buy into. I am more likely to undergo a juicy process with a sketchy goal than I am to buy into a juicy goal with a sketchy process. Some people are just the opposite. Both preferences have their pros and cons. It’s best when one can manage that balance and be able to undergo both worthwhile goals and worthwhile processes regardless. I’ve become better at that. But I digress.
       Like linebackers in football, drummers in rock music set the emotional tone. The drummer must, repeat, must, play with an intensity and a ferocity and a passion, or the band will never, repeat, never, kick ass. If your drummer don’t bring it, the rest of the band can be firing on all cylinders, but you won’t be moving any tails. Looking at it from the other side, your bass player, your guitar player, even your lead singer, can mail it in. But if your drummer is still bringing it, your band still has a chance to move some booty (it's obviously way better when everyone is bringing it). The drummer has to set an energetic tone, an emotional tone, like linebackers, that the rest of the band (or team) connects to and builds on.
       I’ll get more into this in part two, where I’ll connect all this to life in general and to intimate relationships. Please join me for that.

    
©2014 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.