The happy medium is in between your ears. Don’t buy online, buy dirt cheap at flea markets. That way you can afford to experiment until you find a setup that sounds good to you. I currently run a limp dick direct drive Technics SL-D2 turntable through a Marantz 2270 and back out into some equally bummy Technics speakers and it sounds fucking magnificent to me. Cost me about $100 total and a few weekends of getting up super early to be first at the swaps.
Audiophilia is a scam. There isn’t a universal code to unlock immaculate sound and even if there was human ears couldn’t detect that shit anyway. Go with whatever makes you comfortable.
Besides, most audiophiles aren’t banging Screw.
Dealing with the idiots at work or your boss will no longer be an issue. It’s hard to bring a man down after he’s had three weeks of personal records in the gym. It’s hard to get mad at the guy who cuts you off in traffic after you’ve left your lunch on top of the hill after bear crawling up it. Who cares about all that meaningless stuff? When your training and your life are moving forward, you certainly won’t.
It doesn’t take a lot to do this. You already give 8-10 hours a day to your boss and to your work. To boredom and to people and organizations that couldn’t care less about you. Then your family and friends get the rest of your time.
What about you? Do you really think so little of yourself that you can’t sacrifice an hour or two, 3-4 days a week, for yourself? This “me” time isn’t spent shopping, watching TV or getting on the internet. You’re spending it reinvesting in your body, building strength, and building character. Kicking ass and training consistently – and with some balance – will do wonders for both your body and your mind.
Get rid of all the meaningless crap in your life and your training. Get rid of the things that bleed your energy in the weight room and in life. What’s better for you? The Prowler or a stroll on the treadmill? What do you think is going to make you better?
Don’t fall for the crap that people are peddling on message boards, in magazines or on TV. Get your shit in order, and get your training in order. Start kicking ass, and take out the crap that doesn’t matter. Start doing and believing in the stuff that works, and do it today and forever. You want science and studies? Fuck you. I’ve got scars and blood and vomit.
This is a call to arms for some of you. It is for me, too. Stop all the things that make you a pussy and steal your energy. Get your life back.
-5/3/1 2nd Edition
In college when I had to lose myself to find my way, my family has gone from a dirty mirror to a microscope of resounding clarity in helping me to figure out my problems, find a course of action and motivate me to follow up. Gone are the days of just wondering into one of my brother’s rooms and having a wrestling match to help my settle my adolescent frustrations. Now, with my irons in the many fires of worldly ambition, I need a logical voice of reason, expertise in areas beyond my understanding and usually a few beers. My family provides just those things.
A little context should help you understand why my I seek and receive help. First, I’m an industrial engineering in a healthcare system. I work for a large, political and bureaucratic organization. While my schooling is based in statistics and science, execution of my work and ideas relies largely on communication, management and organization. While I’m not expert, I would say I have some experience in each of those realms that contrasts or compliments my family.
From my younger brother I learn patience, a warm positive approach to others and to the task at hand. Calm and resolved sense of excellence. Cutting edge nutrition and physical fitness information.
From my older brother, prioritization and perseverance. As a Naval Academy graduate and current Navy officer, sacrifice certainly comes to mind and is reflected in the stories he tells me. He is married as well, so resolve and selflessness are demonstrated.
From my brother’s wife, who I affectionately call my sister, a never ending well of love and care for others, regardless of their disposition towards her. Undying compassion for children, animals and families. A faith in a higher being.
My mother is a voice of reason, as all mothers are. She knows my tendencies, my traps and what can heal me in times of need.
My father is the stalwart of the family, the flying flag of work ethic and determination on the borderline of obsessive. He knows how to run a team or organization effectively, getting the right people on the boat and then sailing for as long as possible. He sticks to his principles and inspires me to develop principles of my own.
It’s important that I constantly remind myself that these people are here for me as much I am here for them, and that I’m never alone in a time of need. They all are favorites on my phone, and the first to call when I need guidance on the subject matter of their expertise. That’s a slightly technical way of saying I love their perspective on life and their support for me.
A huge thank you to C’H’C’M’ for hosting another successful Drake’s Pop Up Sale.
Another thank you must go out to all of you who braved the extreme weather conditions and managed to make it to the sale! Was great to meet some of our New York based customers.
I shopped that.
… and now we’re open - The Armoury NYC, 168 Duane St
Lately troubles have mounted, some real, others imagined.
But for each, I plan, think and wonder; and each time I see the bottom.
Picture your most empty fantasy. A wet stone well, with only you in it.
An open field at midnight,with no sign of light.
A car, heading no where.
This is where I end up, the place with no fuel,and a list of destinations to be visited.
During those times, symbols give me strength.
I remember the cuffs of iron and blood around my ankles;
not withholding but securing, with me constantly in the face of winds.
So I adjust my chains and I clench my fists,
poised in readiness, and attack the monster in front of me.
Lifted, pushed by a source of light that comes from within me but represents another.
You’ve always played a bigger game than you’ve let on. Had your hand in things when you wished it weren’t.
Until I found you out, but still the shuffle you created left a mess.
So with that mess cleaned up, let’s continue. And I say let’s because i can’t do this without you.
Stop. Whatever it is you’re doing.
Stop tweeting. Stop reading. Stop thinking about something other than what’s in front of you.
Stay on the phone for longer than needed.
Take my hand.
Hold me for longer than you feel comfortable until your discomfort fades away. Years if need be.
Kiss me for no reason.
Just look me in the eyes in silence if all else fails.
Because I have seen into your eyes, when you hold the gaze long enough.
I see purity. But I also see pain. Or maybe it’s a reflection of my own.
Either way we can heal in the time spent together.
I have listened to too many stories of unfulfilled parental relationships.
I’m not willing to let you go so easily.
So embrace me, so I can feel the strength and wisdom you have.
That we, together, can create more than we could apart. That’s love.
With that love, I’ll carry on. The monsters will fade. And I can show another how to love.
Like your mother and father did for you, let me be your steward, your beacon.
Let me show everyone how great I am, by showing them how great you are.
What good are you suits, if you don’t wear them?
What good is your body, if you don’t maintain it?
What good are your morals, if you don’t uphold them?
What good is your self, if you don’t know it?
What good is your craft, if you don’t expand it?
What good are the rules, if you don’t break them?
Black Braided Tassels
There is something I love about a black loafer for winter, for grey cashmere socks and flannel trousers, for a charcoal tweed jacket and white jeans, for black cords and an oatmeal cashmere cable knit.
There is something slightly preppy, but also slightly finger snapping and cool about black loafers. With dark selvedge denim and white button down.
There is something I really love about winter.
Rio de Janeiro, 1941.
The Walt that you didn’t know.
too cool not to share
Tweed suit by Brooks Brothers.