Making My Marc

Back in May of this year (2013) I posted this on facebook:

The "Marc" reference was a head nod to Mark Borchardt (American Movie). The spelling is based off of the name of the muse represented by the songs my band (Sometimes Hands Are Heavy) wrote.  

At that time I was working for a good company as a sales team manager, making really good money from home.  My thought process was that I could keep that up and move to another country or one of the coasts, where I could wake up and hear the ocean everyday.  I was really good at my job and I knew I could make it happen.  So I committed myself, not by setting up a separate savings account or writing out a plan of action, but by posting it on Facebook :).  The date is important.

Fast forward a few months to June or July....  I got a phone call from a really good friend, Cole.  He and I used to be in a fun little vocal group (!nverted) together for a few years and now he was living in Branson, Missouri performing at one of the biggest theaters in town there.  We had talked from time to time about doing another project and it had always been in the back of my mind somewhere.  He asked how things were going.  I had JUST gotten asked to apply for a higher management position at my job and I was really excited about that.  Not only because it was a lot better money and salary based, but because I wouldn't have to answer phone calls anymore, which was my dream in a sales job, having done phone sales for 15 years almost.  

After relating to him about my new potential position at work, Cole tells me about meeting a producer and talking with him about possibly putting together a brand new vocal group to tour resorts in Central America.  He said that if I ever was interested in beatboxing for that group that he wanted me and Carlos (good friend who was in !nverted with us) in it.  At that moment I completely forgot about anything having to do with my job.  I told him that I was in.  I said that if this really looks like this band could happen that I would quit my job and give up everything else to do it.  Somehow the sound of his voice made it seem that this was actually a possibility, and having decided that I would live by an ocean, coupled with my passion for making loud noises, this seemed like a way that could happen.

So we stayed in touch.  He would give me updates from time to time about the discussions he had with the producer and another potential member of the new group, Joe.  After a few more months, details about this tour started to materialize.  Names were named.  Dates were set.  Places were specified.  Before long, we started brainstorming ideas for a band name.  There were still many things that needed to be revealed though, before I could fully commit myself.  Mainly the financial details.  I wanted to be sure that I wasn't going to be taking too much of a loss vs what I was currently making doing sales.  I want to take a moment here to pat Cole and Joe on the back for doing all the dirty work as far as negotiating and building this dream.  After they got the pay worked out, this picture that was being painted became even more vibrant.  I would be paid to beatbox for a professional group in 5 star resort in the Dominican Republic.  Our first show would be New Years Eve.

I decided to start selling everything I owned.  Starting with my TV and drums.  My beloved car would go last.  Somewhere in the midst of this, I quit my job without hesitation (I knew that once I sold my car, I would be financially ok).  I've gotta say that it has been cathartic getting rid of all of these things I've collected over the years.  I also gave away lots of it to friends and family too.  I sold my car several weeks before I was supposed to fly out to Missouri to rehearse, so I was stranded at my home for many weeks.  Thanks to family and friends I was able to get rides and visits here and there.  I watched a lot of Seinfeld on my sisters TV during that time, since I was living with her until I would leave.  I also became an Amazon shopaholic, trying to limit it only to things I would need on my trip.  I now carry my entire wealth of possessions in 1 suitcase, 1 duffel bag, and 1 pink backpack.

A week ago our producer's wife, Maria bought me a plane ticket to Springfield, Missouri.  Now I am here sitting on Coles couch, (which is also my bed while I'm here :)) writing my first blog about how everything came about.  I am thankful to anyone who supported and supports me and my strange fascinations.  I don't know if it's coincidence that I'm going to be accomplishing my goal on the exact day I set out to do it.  I don't believe so.  I always think back on what Max Fisher (Rushmore) says in response to being asked what his secret was to having things figured out...

"I guess you just gotta find something you love and do it for the rest of your life."  

That's what I'm trying to do.  I want to entertain and make music.  Could it all blow up in my face?  Sure.  But I've milled enough black powder and constructed plenty of DIY fireworks in my own kitchen to know that the result can be SO worth it.

In light of all the recent scammer mail I decided to respond to one. I feel better as a humanitarian

Dear Sir or Madam,

I have a few suggestions that may help you.  First of all...  work on your English.  Particularly your grammar.  We don't say things like "I want to learn you more."  It's "I would like to get to know you better."  And try using the word "pics" instead of photos. "Photo" sounds too formal when youre attempting to sound casual and it's more indicative of a physical photograph and not an online doctored one.  Your spelling is decent so I can tell you know how to use a dictionary which is fine as long as you choose words we actually commonly use.   But the biggest piece of advice I can give you is to try changing the amount that we have inherited. It's always 25 Million US dollars.  That is a little excessive.  Not all of us can fathom stashing away 25 million dollars in our bank account. I'm with a small local bank which I know for a fact only keeps at the most $30,000.00 cash between all the drawers and vaults at any given time. Stay around the 10k-50k ballpark and I bet you get more bites. Let me know if this helps. I admire your gall.

Sincerely,

Not impressed

Propaganda permeates perniciously via primetime programming

Have you ever watched the movie from 1989 that Weird Al Yankovic directed and starred in, "UHF"?  To summarize, he takes over a failing local TV network and fills the time slots with ridiculous shows about nonsense.  The thing is though, the viewing audience eats it up like Chocodiles the day Hostess decides to go belly up.  Well, we now live in a time where families gather on the couch to watch "Fun With Dirt".  Now I admit that I'm guilty of watching a few of these time wasters, and they are indeed addicting and relentlessly entertaining.  The ingenious combination of soap opera and game show.  Bravo!  Even my father, who to this day still has a gigantic shitty antenna affixed to his roof to ward off the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, has his eyes glued to Duckmen with Beards.  He even criticizes certain characters on these shows as if the way they portray themselves isn't merely poor acting glazed with a mediocre script.  I've always been able to see through smoke and mirrors pretty well.  It's both a blessing and a curse.  I believe the Aquabats put it appropriately,  "Turn off the idiot box.  It's a disease just like the chicken pox."  It's funny though because they have a TV show now.  Everyone is a hypocrite.  Now for some Facebooking....

"Why don't you slip into something a little more comfortable... like a coma." and so I abided.

So it's been a long while since I've visited this place.  I went back and reread what I had written just to see what Phil blogged about while he was briefly inspired to write.  I had forgotten that I had even written somewhat of an account of my existence.  It's interesting to me how I foreshadowed nearly everything significant that would happen up to this point.  I now play the drums, which is my passion.  I no longer affiliate myself with any organized church or religion.  It's also frightening to me how little I have changed since the time I wrote those four entries 3 years ago.  And yet....  A lot has changed.

It was nice to read about Joel, my friend and canine companion of 4 years.  He died several months ago (Feb 12, 2013), the same day and time my band (Sometime Hands Are Heavy) was about to leave for Cedar City to play our first show.  What a bittersweet day and night.  Snow fell and so did tears.  I'll never forget that dog.  He unknowingly helped me through some difficult times in my life and his sudden death marks the end of a chapter for me.  It's the strangest thing how I had attempted to keep a failed relationship alive vicariously through that animal.  Since he has passed away, the emotional attachment I had to her has also faded.

My band is writing an album.  It's a concept album about a man who is tired of living the life he was told he was supposed to live and he sets sail into the unknown to find himself there.  I have a way of foreshadowing things...




There, I wrote something new.  I feel good about that.  Now I'm going to start doing more creative and abstract writing.

Call me old fashioned.....

but I still wash my hands after I pee.  I'm amazed at how many people skip that step.  Most of them know that everyone around them is waiting to see if theyre going to.  Maybe they do it just to spite the more sanitary population, but regardless, Ive been thinking about what I can do as just one person with a piece of paper and a sharpee.  I've decided that I'm going to post an anonymous sign depicting calvin from calvin and hobbes washing his hands.  Everyone knows about those stickers on the back of trucks where calvin is peeing on something clever.  I think this might help raise awareness, on a small level, that hep(atitus) is not hip(atitus).

Things I enjoy doing:

Well my hobbies are ever-changing.  They have ranged from video games to texas holdem to muting religious television and playing death metal music for the soundtrack.  However, I have settled on a few that I've stuck with and can see myself continuing "religiously", for lack of a better word.  Most recently has been my fascination with fireworks.  I mean I've always liked watching them and setting them off, but after getting layed off from my job recently, I decided to research the construction of aerial shells and many other pyrotechnics used in commercial firework displays to pass the time.  It was right around the 4th of july as a matter of fact.  I've got some videos I'll post tomorrow.  It's too late right now.  But hopefully you can appreciate that I am trying to understand the art of fireworking and not just pursuing a childish endeavor of "blowing shit up".  Although I nearly blew mySELF up a few weeks ago attempting something a little too overzealous.  I've got a video of that too.  My life, along with magnalium and potassium perchlorate flashed before my very eyes.

Another hobby I am actually best known for and I pride myself in excelling at is beatboxing/vocal percussion.  I used to be really modest and when someone would tell me I was good at it I would be way sheepish and say something like "awww thanks.  youre too kind"   But over the years as I've worked very hard at becoming the best at it I can.  I'm damn good at it.  Throw anyone at me I'll battle them.  I really don't care who.  I honestly believe that I am one of the better beatboxers in the United States.  I've jammed with many of the top beatboxers in the world and I can hang with most of them.  I was invited to teach a seminar with the dude who beatboxes for Rockapella (Jeff Thatcher from carmen sandiego) in NC at So Jam and thats when I came to realize how unique my skill is and that there is actually a minority of kids and adults who are hungry for me to teach them what I have perfected and learned on my own over the years.  If I decided to I think I could easily be famous.  (Un)fortunately the limelight leaves a sour taste in my mouth and it's not for me.  Thats fine though.  I do it solely for my enjoyment and to let others experience the mystique of mouth drumming.  I got carried away there for a bit huh?  Well consider this... I'm not good at many things.  It took me way too long to decipher my hidden talent.

Next its onto real drums.  I'll stop there for now.

How I got here

I was born and raised in Southern California.   My dad (Heber J Trunnell) got a teaching job in St. George, UT so I moved here with my family when I was about 12.  I went to Woodward 6th grade center.  Miss Bulloch (my core teacher) asked me early on if I was Mormon, and after I said "yes", she said "Oh then you'll get along great here."  I remember thinking right away... "what if I wasn't LDS???"  Thats the first impression I had of living in Utah.  I liked it here though because my grandparents on my mom(Annette Trunnell)'s side (Keith and Doris Shurtliff) had a second home here at the time and they were 2 of my favorite people.

Fast forwarding a bit, I graduated Snow Canyon Highschool in 2000.  The only class I had ever failed was foods class and it was because my teacher Miss Mulford was unreasonable and had extremely poor judgment.  Do you want an example?  Sure.  One day the handicapped kids who sat in on our class, start fighting over who knows what.  This girl sierra starts pulling this other wheelchair girl's lego-like hair and bellowing.  Miss Mulford, instead of going for help to diffuse the situation, grabs a handful of sierra's hair, starts yanking and shouts "How do YOU like it!!!???"  Even then I knew how idiotic that was for a teacher to join in on a handicapped hair jerk.  My buddy Jeff Newman and I gave her a hard time every day after that and I supposed that could have contributed to my "F".  I don't remember anything I learned in Highschool but they were some of the best years of my life.  SO many fond memories.  If you were there with me, comment your heart out about anything during those 3 years.  I love to look back and laugh.

This is gonna be tough to keep it as concise as I want it.  You'll notice I don't really have any chronological rhyme or reason either.  Things just stand out to me and I'll write about them.  And also, I dont want anyone thinking this is going to be an autobiography.  Those are usually boring.  I'm just laying the foundation.

I ended up going on a mission for the LDS church and serving in Fukuoka Japan.  I didnt have a real belief in certain things at the time but I felt strongly about going for a few reasons.  I didnt get along well at all with my family.  I was selfish and wanted to be away from them along with everything else that had piled up in my life up to that point.  Also, my cousins Ryan and T.J. Wolfe having gone, had a strong impact on my decision.  Peer pressure, despite popular opinion, can be a good thing.  Plus I wanted a change in my life.  So I went.  Overall it was a challenging and humbling experience and I will never regret going.  I met so many incredible people with more faith and charity than I have ever seen in anyone here.  And it helped to shape part of my character.  Although I am still unsure if organized religion is for someone like me.

I came back home thinking that I was never going to date an American ever again.  I had been reprogrammed and I was so set on finding my Japanese bride.  Now here's the thing...  I had never dated before I left period.  So take out that word "again".  I had no interest in girls throughout highschool and I was completely oblivious to anyone liking me.  I got tagged with a bucket of flour (she missed with the water) by some girl because I turned her down for the girl-ask-guy dance.  All I cared about was skateboarding and playstation.  (see what I mean about jumping around throughout time.  Call me ted theodore logan)  I did fall in love eventually.  Way after all the dust settled.  She is the reason why I have a dog (Joel) now.  Our love dog.  Things didnt work out.  I'm glad he's just a dog.  Joel as been such a great companion though.  He is like my kid.

 Early in 2008 I used the money I had saved from various jobs, along with a loan from my parents, to purchase a brand new townhome in Santa Clara, UT.  I'm like 15 feet from living in Ivins but my mailing address says Santa Clara.  I shouldve waited.  The market took a dive right after I bought it.  For the first year living here, I had no neighbors and a lot of dirt and tumbleweeds all around.  But I did have a new hobby.  Paintballing.  My roommates and I gathered up around 300 tires and anything else we could find around the complex and built our own paintball field on the property.  It was awesome.  We even ran lighting to it and had a vinyl banner that said "Phils paintball park sponsored by Big O Tire"  I don't think I realized how white trash I had become.  Its gone now.  Someone gave the head nod to bulldoze it and now its a vacant lot once again.  I have a lot more neighbors now.  Most of them are younger couples.  I don't get invited to their wii bowling nights.  I could care less.  I also couldnt care less.

I've got 2 roommates now but I am about to kick one of them out.  We have been good friends up til recently.  But the other day he flew off the handle and punched me in the face.  I punched him back in his face.  Now we barely ever talk.  I've lived with the guy for about 4 years without incident and just because I finally tell him what I really think about his slobby disgusting girlfriend now we are on the outs.  There were many other factors but the point is we are getting a divorce.  He is a good guy and I love him as a friend but its time.  I only want one roommate.  Preferably one who can see the blind side of a barn.

 So now I've got you pretty much caught up.  I'll add more and pictures and stories as I figure this crap out.  Thanks if you read or skimmed through this.  I have never really let semi-strangers really know who I am before.  If it scares any of you off then oh well.