This isn't working.

If you want to know what causes change, it's that statement. If something is broke, you gotta change it. Either fix it or get a new one. This is the theme of 2008.

But this isn't the only year I've dealt with great change. So here's ten years of change from my life, sort of in reverse order of the pain of change.

1972: I'm born. I don't remember much, but I'm thinking existence is a great change from non-existence. Just a feeling on this one.

1991: I move to Albuquerque to go to school at UNM, fall in and out of love for the first time and Nirvana changes the musical landscape seemingly overnight. I see my first punk show. And, oh yeah, the USA goes to war with Iraq for the first time. I'm briefly worried they'll restart the draft.

1977: Star Wars. It becomes the theme of my life for the next five years. Countless hours of playing with a growing number of action figures, fighting wars with my brothers and looking for Princess Leia. And in the fall, I start school. I'm thinking Kindergarten was my favorite school year. It didn't seem so serious back then.

2001: The tragically comic (or is it a comedic tragedy?) Presidency of George W. Bush begins, he tussles with China over an old airplane in the summer before some other guys give him an excuse to go to war with the Middle East. I begin a year-plus of dating coworkers (not a good idea), stare in wonder at the quiet skies for three days (no airplanes), and lose a close friend to heroin.

1982: The family moves from the midwest to the high desert of New Mexico. Clovis. High winds, moderate winters (for the most part) and dry air. It's a bit of a cultural shock. And thus begins the most trying decade in my immediate family's history.

1999: I quit my newspaper layout job at the Trib, and start my first full time office job at Ameritest (advertising market research). Suddenly I have to figure out things to do when I'm not busy. No more twice daily deadlines. 8:30 to 5 days. Monday through Friday. 52 weeks a year (minus the occasional day off). And the feeling that what I'm doing doesn't make much of a difference in the world--even though I get paid more than I've been paid in my life to do it. Fight Club, The Matrix and American Beauty lead the best year in movies I can remember. Guess what the central theme of these movies is? Yep, changing your life.

2005: I decided to quit my job at Ameritest. I work through the entire year knowing this is how it will all end. People talk about short-timers syndrome, but they don't say much about how other people react to the short-timer. At times, the amount of shit piled on top of me (which they know I'll take, because what am I gonna do?) fills the room. And while my exit does not happen exactly as planned, it does occur. Beginning two and a half years of semi-retirement. 2005 is also the apex of Old Beans. We record the only song we'll get down in a studio. Play some great shows, including the CD release for the compilation our recording is on. And we add Levi (more guitars) to become what I refer to as "a muscle." The flex of that muscle during many shows is something to see.

2008: I find a new place to live, a new band and a new job. My younger brother is expecting his first child (a girl--my first niece), necessitating the move to a triplex a few blocks down the road. Another rocker lost his band last year, and asks me to join what is now called Paper Sleeves. We rock. And about six months after I begin my job search, I start a new job with a company that administers the lottery in New Mexico (and other states). The wholesale change of habits is the biggest one year switch I've ever had, but it also seems natural. I've done all of this before and will do it all again.

1989: Graduate from high school, and go to Kansas State for a semester. I start out in Architecture and end up an English major (the decision made as I walk in a fugue state across campus during a rainstorm). I play drums in a cover band that never gets a gig. I decide to leave K-State and move to Missouri to live with my older brother. This plan changes, and I move back to Clovis instead. In a way, it's my loss of innocence year (and not just because I lose my virginity) as I realize it's okay to change my mind and disappoint people. And I disappoint a lot of people in 1989.

1996: My younger brother and I move to Florida to help start up an Internet radio station with my older brother and some of his friends. The day before we get there, the plan is discarded and the friends decide to open up a record store--without us. The pronouncement by one of these guys that my younger brother and I are the dumbest motherfuckers on the face of the planet turns out to be somewhat correct--although for different reasons. The three brothers break down and, in turn, break each other down during a torrential downpour. My younger brother and I move back to Albuquerque three months later, move into the house both of us will live in until recently, and get regular jobs. The "summer vacation" in Florida changes Lies Magazine, my expensive hobby of an endeavor, into a more focused and funny publication. Oh yeah, and we start doing this weekly column thing.

Matt Worley changed his hair last week, but he's done that many times, too.