the kristoffer carter show

Ahh, another bithday for me, kc.  No big thing. I’ve been spoiled rotten all year long. I gave myself a new bike a few months back, and have been riding it like a Mad Fool all over Summit County. Big plans for Fall cycling.

Another year down, (or another year in) kinda forces you to take some inventory of things. New Year’s is usually my time to figure out what, if anything I’ve contributed to the universe over the course of the year. I guess the birthday thing is the same with me. Was 32 any good? Do I feel 33? What did I think 33 should feel like? Did I learn anything new? Write/create/perform enough? Sell enough? What is enough?

I woke up with these thoughts in my head over the last few days, and they weren’t really getting me anywhere. What I do know is that my parents gave me good genes, so I don’t really look “33″. I also avoid wearing pleated khakis or golf shirts. There’s some work to be done on my overall energy level I think. My fits and bursts of uncomfortable levels of enthusiasm have recently been compared to Jim Carrey’s character in “Dumb & Dumber” (Lloyd Christmas). Kinda fitting.

I’m reflecting a LOT on what it is that motivates me these days. My job has allowed me to feel somewhat comfy, but I can’t let that make me complacent. Need to keep moving in the direction of those things that give me the full body chills. Music, art, creativity, writing, inspiring others, and of course my family.

Elliott climbed into bed with us for a few minutes today, after giving me a giant hug and a kiss. There aren’t really any material gifts I need after something like that. I had one hand on Gayle’s growing stomach, feeling for the kicks. And the thoughts of the day fell away, no work stress, no schedules, no clocks ticking. It was just me and my tribe, if only for a  few moments.

I can feel this hot light inside of myself, and I know there’s such a large world to share it with. Age is only deterioration for so many people. Age is more tools in my toolbox, more confidence in who I am, more of the little freaky deaky indiosyncracies that add up to me.  I always say bring on another year. I always say thank you for everything in the prior year’s closing. I always know where all my time went. Are we getting older, or better?

this is last month’s company newsletter…. the special times :: august 2008 edition.

the-special-times-august-2008-edition.pdf

My lunch with John yesterday echoed so many recent truths that have been bubbling to the surface lately. Fear versus Passion, denying that need to feel “safe”. Many of my friends are in similar boats of security, but longing for a more creative life. I’m not saying they are unhappy people at all, just “itchy” as my friend Abigail commented yesterday. It’s the itch you don’t want to soothe with some nasty salve. You wanna scratch that bugger til it bleeds and spreads.

It’s the dangling carrot that leads us forward. My goddamned brain is so easily overwhelmed. It starts in as soon as I wake up, and I need to squash it. What do you mean there’s so much to do today? Can’t I take some time to enjoy the beautiful room I’m waking up in? The beautiful person sleeping next to me? The good things that will happen today in addition to the great things that happened yesterday?

It was a funny meeting between John & I. You have to realize, I met this cat during the height of his last career in the music bidness. He was a Director of A&R for Columbia Records, working for Randy Jackson (idol) and John Koladner (legendary rock dude). He invited my 21 year old ass to his office and told me it was ok to bring my purple-haired, 20 year old girlfriend. Gayle hit it off with him right away, even though we both thought he was a pompous ass about music. Idealists and Keep it Realers.

So 10 years later… (”TEN YEARS!”) We have camped together, we’ve partied together, we’ve let our kids play together, and we’ve talked A LOT about music, bands, and home improvement. We met yesterday at a Panera in commercial suburbia, to catch up. He’s in a suit, and drove the new (old) Mercedes he just bought. “Grown up”, I’m thinking. And the conversation literally picks up where my conversation with my writer friend David left off last week. Fear & Safety, creativity & passion. Building them wings once you jump. As I’ve mentioned before, it’s not your abnormally large Testicles that will weigh you down. They actually help a bruther fly, like those jackasses at the end of Blades of Glory. Hahaha. Love that.

What I do know, is that everything generally works out for people like us. “It’s not pictures, or privilege, it’s just self preservation” (Indigo Girls).  This Ohio experiment has confirmed it once again, preceded by the Chicago experiment, and the L.A. experiment. I can only conceivably fall so far. I come through in a pinch, and I came through for my peeps. I’m sure you are the same, or I would’ve distanced myself from you by now. Hahah. It takes a lot of looking “up”, and not in a positive thinking sense. You don’t scale the mountain by watching the ground and thinking “wouldn’t that suck if….”Any of us will only rise as far as we “conceivably rise”. Where are the “real” limits here? No one cares but you.

You should pay attention to those maddening, nagging little “itchy” voices telling you what you really want, who you really are, what you’re actually here to do. You ignore them and they grow louder. I have so darn much more to do here, that sometimes I don’t know where to begin. It’s easy to write myself off as a serial hobbyist. But wait, aren’t I actually learning new things, applying new skills, achieving new clarity that moves me forward? All I really need is to live well.

I know know know that you do too, and I love watching you grow.

I’ll leave you with an email I wrote to my writer friend, who has become what Gayle likes to call “one of my boyfriends”. Hahah.  I get so enamored with what people achieve that I get just into them  for periods of time. Current boyfriends include Neil Peart (Rush, duh), Gary Erickson (ceo, Clif Bar), David (writer) and Shawn (ceo, my job). They’re all local heroes in Mr. Carter’s neighborhood.

———

ha. thanks for reading through those.

yeah, i think the plan is to take it beyond the relatively happy bubble of our company culture. it needs a wider appeal.

what’s wrong with helping all you newspaper folks remember what CHAMPIONS they really are? that’s right, not a damn thang.

as for you… i can’t help but think that life has prepared you nicely for the “big” decisions you face.

i was in a similar (smaller) boat with our move here in the face of a lawsuit, travel, new house, no job, etc. if anything, these times bring the priorities into intense focus.

like everything else, it depends on what you see when you look beyond the next few months.

is it stressful uncertainty, or is it “livin the dream?”

i hope you know where i stand on your situation, you effing rockstar.

if you turned that heap of “potential” into a castle that’s been featured in the national press…

your potential as a writer has way better odds than that house did. same nutjob at the controls though.

kc

Hello writing page. How many times have I opened you up these last few weeks, only to get more caught up in the little acts of living? Labor Day comes down like the curtain on Summertime, and there are just so many things we’re trying to fit in. All of it good, I would say. I’m sitting at the dark dining room table, listening to little feet starting to stir upstairs. I’ve already delivered a tray of breakfast goods. Bob the annoying Wondercat is meowing from the den like someone set him on fire. Typical morning, more or less.

That cat woke us up about 10 times lastnight, trying to get into Ellie’s room. If you want to royally piss off a busy Father, or a fairly pregnant Mother for that matter, go wake up their precocious 4-yr old. I treasure the times when we’re both awake, but I neeeeed the time after she goes to bed, and before she wakes up. This is precious time I use to build the best version of myself to share each day. Sometimes I’m good at it, waking up easily to go ride 10 miles. Other times the tired, nearly 33-yr old needs to hang on for another 30 minutes of sleep. And so, chasing the day begins. The pitter patter starts, Bob catches on fire, and it’s time to make the doughnuts.

It’s one of those times when the shear volume of ideas & plans  building up inside of me is daunting. So much to do, but more often I realize I should work on how I feel about all of it. We watched some home movies made a couple days after moving into this giant house last year. Somehow I knew we’d watch them someday and wonder what the hayell we were thinking. Hahaha. Balls move, Carters. I chased toddler Elliott around 2480 sq feet of drafty, old craftsmanship. I narrated our vision for that wallpaper, these walls, that room, those windows.

The Balls Move, as I’m still getting over, is that we not only had a new mortgage, but I really had no job. No job in the city we were moving to. A part of the country that gets mercilessly shit on by the press needing to identify the “dying cities”. Hahaha. Fuck them. Show me the income you need in a “thriving city” to achieve the quality of life you can get back here for so little. No traffic, free parking, and acres of trees & trails. Dream job, for that matter. I was shocked watching the video about how optimistic I sounded, like I knew what I was doing. I was preparing to leave Monday-Friday for 13 consecutive weeks, on an empty threat of being sued for $30K. Hahah. Fuck them too.

Please don’t mistake my surliness for arrogance. I’m just being reminded yet again of a cliche that I can’t seem to avoid these days. We only build our wings on our way down to the ground. Because when I look room to room through these camera eyes, I see everything I talked about last year and then some. Dying City my ass. Lawsuit my ass.

Little Girl #2 is kicking so hard that Gayle’s hand moves when she tries to contain it. She kicks like these plans inside my head, like the flow of creativity in my heart. Who keeps trying to cork it up?

The higher I jack up my pants and the more furiously I Hokey Pokey, the more I effing remember: That’s What It’s All About. Today it’s the new dish washer. New upstairs over the next few weeks. 18 windows and new carpeting. Better keep scraping wall paper and paint, paint, PAINT.

I was eating a bag of grapes on the way to drop Ellie at school.

Ellie: “Daddy if you eat too many grapes you’re gonna get diary.”

kc: “What? What will I get?”

Ellie: “Diary.”

<She gets very serious and looks out the window>

Ellie: “You’re gonna get diarrhea Daddy.”

kc: “What’s that?”

Ellie: “It’s very burning poop.”

kc: “I see.”

Updated Elliott’s site last night.

Pics from the weekend can be found here.

She’s back at her school today and loving it. I’m back at my desk with sore legs from biking 20 miles on Saturday. Relearning to play the cello this week, and making as much time for creative things as humanly possible.

Four years since Dolli & I caught Ellie’s head before the doctor showed up. Four years since a bassinet in Los Angeles, rotisserie chickens and Boppi’s. We have a full blown, amazing little woman on our hands.

What a blur of 4-year old Birthday Party Madness. You may begin to tire of me talking about it, but we consider ourselves some lucky folks to have such amazing friends and family. We could never pull this stuff off on our own. Gayle’s sisters (Auntie Maynan & Auntie Lizzie) helped clean, scour, and organize, make signs & food, etc. Our friend Cassandra showed up with a downright RIDICULOUS cake. Maybe the best birthday cake I’ve ever seen or eaten. It was actually healthy too. Unreal.

It brings tears to my eyes that this special little kid of ours has so much love in her life. Everyone was determined to help her feel like a princess. Elliott has contributed so much to our collective quality of life, and the generosity that everyone shows her is awe inspiring and humbling. I worry about her being too spoiled, but I know that in all of our busy lives there is no more important thing than making a positive impact on a kid. She will remember this, from each of you. As will Gayle & I. We love you all very much. Thanks for spending the day with us and showing Ellie so much love.

Are you walking through your days with a clipboard, tallying up the little disasters and snarky people who cross your path? Have you taken a few extra minutes when you open your eyes in the morning, or before you close them at night, to tally up some of the little miracles that get easily overlooked? Will you recognize them when they show up as a many splendid thing, or will they seem ordinary, slightly less painful than the nasty shit you’ve been confronted with? It’s the yin and the yang that you’re sorting through here. You can just as easily float on your back and look up at the stars, versus paddling up Shitscreek with a turd for a paddle. Do you get it that it’s not blind, “positive thinking”? It’s sheer survival. Not mere survival, because we’re not looking for lives we can merely manage, or that manage us. I remember I’m alive when I’m thriving, or when the emotions become so intense that none of this ego shit can touch me.

I remember we’re in this together when I take a few minutes for myself to regain some clarity. I knew these next few weeks would be cosmically challenging. Everything feels kind of fast, and intense. But that also means that there are bigger rubies, closer to the surface. You just can’t keep running running and expect to find anything.

First on my list of things to accomplish in this one crazy day, was to make another list. Hahah. That’s what I’m reduced to. Here’s the quick list of miracles that have not only kept me going, but are propelling me forward this week. There’s only a thin line between ordinary and extraordinary, between ordinary and revolutionary. It’s in the way that we categorize moments in our minds. It’s a challenge to always lead with the heart, but the deeper I try to go my mind can’t follow. Thank you profoundly for your contribution to these…You know who you are. It’s when you do that I love you most.

1. After speaking to 60 peeps last week about work stuff, they rewarded me with a beautiful handmade card holder from Don Drumm. They then followed that up with two free Radiohead tickets for Gayle and I. Unbelievable. You know how I feel about Blossom in the Summer. Coincidentally, Gayle saw an ad for this show the other day and really wished we would’ve gotten tickets. Ruby, beneath the surface. Instantly manifested. Hot.

2. Ellie & I took a picnic dinner up to a free outdoor, Pat Sweany show at the Akron art museum last night. Me and my girl, log rolling down the hill with full bellies. Live music and familiar faces. Gorgeous summer evening.

3. Danny from Lockview asked me to play a show for happy hour tonight. I’ll get to clock in for 2-3 hours of live music. I so needed this, and had no idea it would pan out.

4. My buddy’s douchebag supervisor at work put in his notice. This isn’t just luck buddy, this is the universal chess match getting obstacles out of your way.

5. I’ve been obsessively recording passing moments on my new handheld recorder, which records 24 bit full digital audio. It sounds incredible. This unshakable need arose after a full day of yoga and meditation with Cassandra a couple weeks back. It was my only clear takeaway. “Research and acquire a hand held recorder.” Within 2 days of getting it, I had recorded some amazing moments with Elliott & Gayle, my 75 minute speech at Ohio.com, and this new tune I’ve been kicking around. what-you-hold-on-to-DEMO-072508
It’s a one-taker live, but it’s feeling so nice. My little sister was on my mind while I was driving, and it ended up applying nicely to so many things I’ve gone through this year.

6. Aforementioned kickass painting entering our lives.

7. Gayle & Lizzie attacking the messes around our house in preparation for Ellie’s 4-Year Birdthday bash this Sunday. I’ve been beat up pretty good at work this week, but everything has come together perfectly in spite of me.

8. Terri-O, Terri-O… rounding up $260 out of nowhere for our little friend Richard in Chicago’s inner city. From San Diego. This kid is within a couple hundred bucks of going to a 4-yr college prep school, far from his crackhead parents. The show I played helped raise the first $4K. How could I sweat things like work drama, when stuff that REALLY matters is happening so beautifully. So so grateful.

9. Our recruiter at work, a technology specialist who’s worked for Microsoft and a few other massively successful companies, is moving on. Her contract expired this week, and she’s helped take Centro from 25 to 125 people in little over a year. Check out her company-wide, goodbye email. So incredible.

To all of the peeps who have made my life joyous,
And to Kris Carter, who’s definitely made it quite boisterous,
To Emily Gallagher and account management troops,
And to techies who’ve told me
Red Bull’s a major food group,

To Virgil, and Kelly, Margret Bell and Mike Vein,
And to Leo, Mo, Carrie, and also Jenn Shaen,
To Mickey, Zach, Becky, you’ll live on in my heart,
And whenever there’s drinking, I know Kuerzi’s a part,
Of a local ad crew where Belldina’s best dressed,
And Mario’s surrounded by blondes in distress,
To the fine Sara Koch, and Colleen who stays late,
And Obama campaigns that burst out of the gate,
To taxi rides longer by Lohr’s bad directions,
To bagels and cookies, and SEO sessions,
To Matt and his hair gel and Martin’s creations,
And Rosen’s won lunches from radio stations,
To the fair number of troops I have brought to this crew,
Call me any time at all, and, Shawn stay in touch too!

A bientot. Hasta pronto. Love you guys.
Fran Quittel

10. Family rolling in to town for Ellie’s birthday. This will be one of those epic summer weekends. You can’t stop the bumrush. It starts with a rockshow and ends with a house party. That’s how we do.

Much love to you all.

little vid of ze painting…. on Youtube (CLICK HERE)

…more artwork from our amazingly talented friend Robert… rw2gallery.com

1. I think of a random client, and they call me. Or their business is in the headlines of Gayle’s newspaper as I carry it upstairs.

2. I glance at our wall above the fireplace and think that we “really need a wicked cool painting to go up there”. The next morning our wonderful Stimulus Check arrives. I had already decided that whatever we spent that $1500 on, it was NOT going to be gas or groceries. Let’s be honest, we’re all going to be paying back a lot more than what the wreckless spenders give us to stimulate the sagging economy. We go to the Akron art in the Park fest, and lo and behold, we meet an incredible artist named Robert Walker. His original oil-on-canvas paintings were on sale for 25% below list. This crazy bugger with the human-like Tarsiers called to us. We debated, then purchased it with a chunk of that check. I’d rather stimulate the economy of an independent artist than another conglomerate somewhere. It felt right, and looks even better. No, Ellie’s not scared of it.