I am running for my son.

That is the mantra I repeated to myself in times of exhaustion when I was training for my first two marathons back in 2003 and 2004. The early morning runs, the aching joints, the self doubt, all of these things played a factor in wearing me down and making me want to quit. But then I would repeat those six words to myself and I would find some buried reservoir of energy and continue moving forward.

I am running for my son.

The reason behind my sudden urge to run a marathon was raising money to find a cure for cystic fibrosis, the deadly disease that Jacob was diagnosed with when he was barely a month old. Cystic fibrosis is an inherited chronic disease that affects the lungs and digestive system of about 30,000 children and adults in the United States (70,000 worldwide). A defective gene causes the body to produce thick, sticky mucus that clogs the lungs and leads to life-threatening lung infections, and obstructs the pancreas and stops natural enzymes from helping the body break down and absorb food. To combat the disease, Jacob must do daily breathing treatment with a nebulizer and a machine called “The Vest,” which vibrates his chest to break up any mucus build up in his lungs.

Additionally, he must take enzyme supplements to help him digest food. Jacob takes a total of 13 different medications daily to keep him a healthy little boy who loves to play with his older sister, Sophie.

After a two-year hiatus, a simple jog through a rain-soaked parking lot last Thanksgiving lit a spark in me to begin running again. Between 2003 and 2006, over $20,000 was raised for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation through the marathon fundraisers I ran. The time felt right to make another go at it. New shoes were bought, a slow steady regime was adopted, and on November 16, I will participate in the Pasadena half marathon, just two days after Jacob’s 7th birthday.

This past summer, we visited family in Ohio and I stuck with my training as best as possible. The very first morning, as I cut a path through the memories of my childhood jogging through the neighborhoods where I grew up, an epiphany hit me. I vividly recall a Coldplay song chiming through my headphones and I had a clear vision of the future. Jacob and his loving sister, Sophie, were sitting together on a swing, reading, he with his head on her shoulder. They were older, in their teens, and the sun was setting behind them. In this vision, I stood, observing, feeling blessed for the wonderful life I have and the beautiful family I love. And it occurred to me, suddenly, that I am not just running for my son.

I am running for my family. (more…)

Chicago - Stone of Sisyphus (Rhino)
Fifteen years after Warner Bros. rejected Stone of Sisyphus, leading to Chicago’s departure from the label and kicking off over a decade of crass, fan-bilking compilations, the band’s “legendary lost” album finally sees the light of day…on Warner-owned Rhino! Hey, why is the record industry in the tank again?

Coldplay - Viva La Vida (Capitol/EMI)
Speaking of “in the tank,” here comes EMI’s great white hope for the second quarter of 2008! Are garish artwork and echoes of U2 enough to keep the label’s top shareholders from having to sell off their third chateaus? Judging from the second single (and title track), the answer is an unqualified “yes.” Judging from most of the rest of the record, on the other hand…

Jason Falkner - Bedtime With The Beatles 2 (Adrenaline)
In which the terminally underrated power-pop superhero follows up his wonderful (and stupidly out of print) Bedtime With the Beatles, offering nine more lullaby renditions of classic tracks from the Fab Four, including “Norwegian Wood,” “Penny Lane,” and — oddly — “Here Comes the Sun.” My daughter can’t wait! (more…)

Happy Monday, folks! What says “starting off the work week” like counting down the Top 10 of Billboard’s Hot 100? Nothing, that’s what, so let’s get to counting!

The last time we visited the Hot 100, this damn song was on it, and here it is, still hanging around. Previously, I said I loved it because it represents — it has to represent — the ludicrous end of the road for the Auto Tune plague that has smothered Top 40 radio like a smallpox-infected blanket for the last year and change. Admittedly, that really doesn’t fit the standard definition of love, but it’s more than I can say about “Lollipop” this week.

I don’t hate Lil Wayne, and I don’t even really hate “Lollipop,” but I can’t hear past that damn vocal gimmick — which is probably the point; take it away, and there isn’t much of a song left over. Of course technology has been masking artistic weaknesses for decades; from a certain point of view, this little dung heap is to the ’00s what, say, Rick Springfield’s “Celebrate Youth” was to the ’80s. Does this mean Lil Wayne is five years away from playing casinos and state fairs? Cross your fingers. (more…)