Posted on: May 9th, 2014 by Ben Gonzalez
While staying with my brother in Mexico, he encouraged me to try some of the finer and more ‘upscale’ eating establishments available in his neighborhood of Juarez. Think of it like Mexico City’s equivalent of Silver Lake. The first Saturday there, him and his girlfriend took me and mine to a pizza eatery built out of the basement of one of MANY historical buildings there. A Spanish colonial residence who’s exterior is meticulously preserved now surrounded by technical schools, OXXO’s, 7-Eleven’s, and streets that would make a New York pedestrian squeamish from complexity. The entrance was lined with fancy entry mats and we made our way to our table. There, we decided to order a home cooked pizza. Marinara, date, and asparagus with a faint touch of wine in the dough. It was delicious. And impressive that the cooks were able to whip this out in such a short time. Craft beers abound, we relinquished in a drunken stupor back to the apartment. I made it a point to try and remember that I got a peek at the mat behind the bar. To my non-shock, it was the very non slip drainage mats so common in bars… and provided by my place of daily employment. It seemed that even across borders, the influence of ‘mats’ followed me everywhere.
The night was kind and without incident. Until the sun came up and it’s first unfriendly beams poured in through the curtain-less guest bedroom and directly into my tired eyes. As I reached for my phone to check the time, a sudden influx of pain and nausea began to manifest within me. A low rumble and gurgle urged me to get out of bed. But my weary spirit declined and with an almost child like internal plea, I forced myself back to sleep. I closed my eyes anew, and before I could reach the sweet bliss of the dream state, the rumble and gurgle turned into a stampede of wild buffalo running from something… something terrifying. Stumbling out of bed and unable to answer my better half’s mumbled inquiry, I was sat upon the freezing cold porcelain in what seemed like a flash. To the horrible shock of my tender end, what followed was a catastrophic display of entropy in it’s rawest form. For the next 30 minutes of my life I bowed before a terrible pain and sorrow I always understood was reserved for the poor, unwitting western foodie tourist on his first, uninformed excursion to a genuine Delhi eatery.
When the carnage was over and my eyes restored focus, there I sat, hunched over and staring the very thing I had all but forgotten to think of from the night before: a non-slip drainage mat.
Posted on: April 1st, 2014 by Ben Gonzalez
It’s too damn hot this year. Seriously. There was no winter this year. Quite literally, the coldest it got was about 40 degrees Fahrenheit and it lasted for about six and a half hours over the course of a cloud less evening sometime in January. It was pathetic and just another wonderful reminder that it’s about time to get the hell out of the San Fernando Valley. On the upside, it’s January, people got money to spend and a few trade shows are going to be taking place over the first quarter of the year that appeal to my inner conflicted and rightfully dichotomized consumer self. Namely, NAMM and CES! WOOHOO!!!
Oh the joy of newly announced products in the world of music and audio recording technology at NAMM, and everything electronic at CES. Among the hustle and bustle of eager vendors, enthusiasts, and consumers alike over softwood trade show flooring and carpets, you can feel the rush of fresh dollars signs ringing up behind the eyelids of everyone involved. The sheer magnitude of these events is enough to boggle the mind of someone not used to BIG and LOUD events outside of music festivals.
Without getting into too much detail, a who’s who of the corporate world of consumer electronics use these spaces to announce their next hot product. 4K televisions being demoed by young Nebraska coeds in bikinis paying their way towards a (possible) internship at one of these companies. After all, that tuition isn’t going to pay itself, unless of course, you’re on that academic scholarship. Which seems unlikely if your most basic avenue towards future employment is an unpaid gig strutting your silky smooth skin and complexion in tacky make-up and un-necessary (or is it) near-nudity to make sure one of the largest miners of conflict minerals breaks a profit on that new TV at the end of the fiscal year… but I digress… I’m pretty sure I said I wouldn’t get into too much detail…
It’s too hot.
Posted on: March 26th, 2014 by Ben Gonzalez
It is said that there are two types of people: Dog people or cat people. Frankly, I was unaware but they both sound horrifying. If I were to encounter either of these grotesque canine/feline human hybrid mutants, I’d run like hell. I have met people with affinities for regular non-mutant cats or dogs. Personally, I lean towards cats. They’re independent, quiet, clean, and compact. Dogs, however, speak to my true nature. Sweet, playful, sloppy eaters, and loud.
My girlfriend and I recently adopted a young Labradane named Jolie. She’s a Labrador/Great Dane mix and about 10 months old. She is a very big dog and very active. She’s given me a run for my money, quite literally, as my schedule now demands 2 hours of running and playing with her at either a dog park or the nearby lake in the morning, and again in the evening. And this is just on the weekdays. Training has been pretty good as she is intelligent and responsive. But a giant puppy is still a puppy. Much nibbling, much biting (playfully) and the occasional accident prone over excitement when mom or dad get home. The girlfriend will soon be be taking her to training classes and I couldn’t help but realize that she’ll probably be indoors at one of these giant dog training facilities. Selling our rolled rubber flooring for doggy day cares on a daily basis, it’ll be pretty interesting to see how well the floor holds up to the digging instincts of our new pup. Her nails are BIG and she is VERY strong. I’m pretty confident, though, that if it’s one of our surfaces as opposed to some of our competitors. It might make Jolie perk up in confusion and frustration as to why nothing is happening when she attempts to dig through to the center of the earth.
Posted on: February 25th, 2014 by Ben Gonzalez
It’s now the middle of February and much to my horror, we are experiencing 89 degrees here in Los Angeles. While this happens, most of our Northeastern counterparts suffer in what can only be described as near-nuclear winter. Yeah, yeah, “we’re so lucky to be in California” and “you wish you were here” and “bet you’re real glad to not have to deal with the cold”. Well, it’s not so pretty here, actually. We are suffering from a record drought and in case many of you didn’t know this, Los Angeles is an artificially irrigated city. Meaning, we laugh in the face of nature by leaching Owens Valley of it’s precious water for close to a century. All so that we can have traffic jams and Justin Bieber run amok. The upside to this, however, that the summer will be BRUTALLY hot for us in the San Fernando Valley. Which means, the girls of summer. Lots and lots of bathing suits, beach goers, and pool parties making use of our drainage mat to make sure drunk party-goers don’t lose their footing on wet cement and slip into the water before they can take their iPhones out of their pockets.
I know this all makes me sound like a Grinch, but I’m really not. I actually enjoy the summer. Well, not really. But it’s only because summer isn’t summer in Los Angeles. Summer, as I’ve mentioned, now occurs in February here in the good ol’ city of angels. The months between May and August are simply referred to as “fires’’” around here.
Posted on: February 4th, 2014 by Ben Gonzalez
It felt nearly impossible to come up with something to write about this week as personal turmoil has reduced me to a state of late teenage angst. The plus side of that, is that I’ve been going through some of my old music collection and found some interesting stuff. It was weird, I don’t remember even owning this CD by Swedish Gothic Industrial Emo-Core heavyweights ‘Black Rubber Mats‘… one song caught my attention and I think brief part by part analysis is on order:
‘Solid Black’ (I think the name of the song alludes to being depressed)
Amongst thousands of rubber granules
I am occasional colored fleck.
(Talking about being Mexican in a mostly homogenous Umea, Sweden)
My heart easily trimmed if necessary
(Referring the author’s personal malleability)
Aesthetically pleasing, Multi-purpose
I may be, but I’m still just underlayment to you.
(Our vocalist is very complex… he feels that he has many talents, but still bares this weight that is yet unrevealed)
Factory sheared edges
(Yeah… this guys’ deep and clearly tortured. I mean, he doesn’t want to follow the mold but be his own person!)
Designed to provide
Excellent traction… even when wet!
Designed to provide
Excellent traction… even when wet!
(Man! This is the part of the song that really got me going! Just heavy searing guitars and synths with insanely pulsating drums while this guys is just SCREAMING at the fact that despite his angst and longing, he is just another manufactured good! Society has molded him to be just that!)
When he sings this, it’s very emotive. I think he is talking about the coldness of being isolated and being the only one that feels a certain way in an otherwise homogenous social condition. I tried to look them up online, but there’s only one picture I found. I’ve posted it for your information.
Posted on: January 29th, 2014 by Ben Gonzalez
Another year has come and gone. It has left us with many great human achievements as a species, and I hope, as individuals as well. I can only speak for myself but, Christmas and New Years bear a special significance for me as they are the holidays which literally make me sick. I’m not talking about ideals, my gripes with materialism or the exchange of human culture for that of consumption. No. I’m talking about literally getting sick. Like the flu. Three years in a row now, I’ve been sick dead-smack on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I had to resort to copious amounts of symptom suppressors, lotion infused tissues, and Netflix. Lots and lots of Netflix.
During the course of these, I subjected myself to martial arts hits like Sidekicks, American Ninja, and other B-grade karate-chop fests. But one can never get too far from their work I guess. During the competition scene in Sidekicks (starring RIP teen heart-throb Jonathan Brandis and Chuck F-ing Norris) I saw them… crosslink foam mats, competition style flooring all strewn over the entire gymnasium. Beautifully colored and textured as if almost taunting me to think about the office.
At this point, I realized that the medication and symptom suppressors were starting to really take their toll on my coherence. It was like a bad acid trip where as the dull plot of this flick turned into a slow psychological interrogation where I revealed Freudian archetypes to a non-existent shrink. These, however, were not your typical “mother issues” anymore (I have none) but instead mutated into vague whispers of “1-3/8″ crosslink foam, 18oz vinyl… yes… very durable… competition style wrestling mats too..”
Needless to say, I drank a lot more NyQuil than I should have. Vick’s might owe me a check. For the plug on our widely read blog and for the near death experience I had on their “medicine”.
Posted on: January 9th, 2014 by Ben Gonzalez
It’s no secret that as we get older we get wiser. We also get brittle. Slowly but surely, our cells start braking down and what was once a pleasurable activity playing on the ground and getting your hands and knees dirty is now replaced by changing your oil on the garage concrete. And your reward (if you don’t know what you’re doing and spend too much time through awkward positions under your Ford-rrari Escort) is sore knees. Yes, sore knees. Now this could be just my fragile artistic genetics, and while we do have knee saver kneeling pads for such tasks, something a little more rugged and al encompassing might work better. A little more universal. Something that can allow me to roll the car into the garage yet not get completely eaten by the weight my car but STILL retain the softer and forgiving properties of foam. Hmmm… I was thinking perhaps something along the lines of rubber. Like a tuff-and-easy interlocking rubber tile but with the forgiving shock absorption of EVA foam tiles.? Does such a thing even exist?? I can’t keep making hard concrete floors my friend when all they want to do is hurt me! THERE HAS TO BE A BETTER WAY!
And now, there is!
However embarrassing it may be that a customer had to point out the obvious for me: interlocking soft rubber tiles are actually the best option for garage floor mats
that will have multiple applications. A fully installed rubber top interlocking an all around solution for kids that want to play dirty (on the floor that is) with their action figures and imagine whole worlds where GI Joe and Spider-Man team up to fight Gumby and his hordes of green, plastic soldier minions. Or play with their ipads while sitting on the floor… I mean, that would work too if they don’t have any imagination… or action figures. Geez… I’m old… I miss G.I. Joes.. and Ninja Turtles…
It’s also great as exercise flooring
for equipment like treadmills that get used or just look pretty in the garage. Dropped 50 pound dumbells at total failure from that last rep? No prob, Rob! These suckers come in 3/8″ and 5/8″ interlocking versions so you can rep away and not crack your floor! How about a drunken brawl with your friends? Not a broken bone will be had* if you just take it to the garage, boys. Need to be on your knees for a prolonged period of time…? You know… perhaps you are assembling some sort of complex Swedish furniture without reading the instructions and need that meditative period in front of all those pieces to figure out what the hell goes where. Say no more for comfort AND practicality will be yours. And finally, maybe you feel fresh out of ideas for writing your mandatory blog and you just need some quiet time away from your cat and your pre-wife (you can’t afford a ring and your too old to be calling her your “girlfriend”) to really sort out your ideas. Then throw some headphones on, turn your avant-garde classical playlist to ten, and stretch yourself out on your new tough, durable, rubber topped garage floor and let the ideas flow through you because you just pissed off pre-wifey. Keywords and context will soon flow through you like water. You’ll thank yourself later.
Posted on: December 19th, 2013 by Ben Gonzalez
In the past few weeks, I’ve been working a sort of county fair at the local junior college. Pumpkin patches, children, and haunted mazes. Fun. As stage and technical director, it was my job to ensure that the stage was clean, the audio rig was hooked up properly, lighting, and when it was all set up, mixing sound for performers, bands, and dancers. Being an outdoor wooden stage at a farm center, there was dust galore. The majority of performers on the weekends were young dancers. Toddlers to teenagers dancing to Rhianna’s “Cake” (I won’t get into what is slightly perturbing about seeing stage moms rooting for their six year olds lip syncing all the words to such hits as “Cake”, “It’s all about me”, and mouthing things like “Don’t you want it?” while suggestively “dancing”. But… I am not a parent and maybe don’t understand what it’s like to say “no” to an aspiring young dancer wanting to get up on stage to do such things.
In any case, I got to see first hand how our Matlay Dance Floor works and does its thing. Every Saturday and Sunday for six weeks, I unrolled 6′x4″ rolls of Matlay, use vinyl dance tape to adhere them together, and let the little ones dance to their little hearts content. After having my ears perforated for 3-6 hours, I’d clean up shop and roll the Matlay Flooring
back up and do the same thing all over again the next day.
On the last three Sundays, interestingly enough, we had a local martial arts studio come and give us a demonstration. After doing some impressive choreography and sparring, they rolled out their Deluxe Bi-Layered Martial Arts Mats
to do some acrobatics of sorts. Backflips, somersaults, and eventually, my favorite, brick breaking. Brick breaking with their foreheads! Tough sons of mothers, these guys were.
Posted on: December 11th, 2013 by Ben Gonzalez
For those not aware, green is the new black. Businesses of all types are looking to cash in on the various state and federal perks of being certified “green” by using (relatively more) sustainable building materials, products, and infrastructure. As of late, we’ve been getting a lot of inquiries regarding LEED. LEED stands for Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design. The program encourages and accelerates the adoption of sustainable green building and development practices through implementation of universally understood and accepted tools and performance criteria.
The LEED rating system is comprised of ratings for different types of projects like new construction, existing buildings, core and shell, etc. However, as there are no products that are “LEED certified”, the use of various products can increase or decrease points needed for particular projects to gain certification. MatsMatsMats.com has been a big player in offering “green” products to our customers for a while now. We removed the heavy metals from our PVC yoga mat, we were one of the first online retailers push hard on our all natural rubber yoga mat as well. However, our biggest and best performing line for LEED certification is our recycled rubber products. Due to the use of regional recycled materials and other helpful parameters, our interlocking zip tiles, rolled rubber goods, and roof walkway pads can rack up anywhere from 4 points as underlayment and up to 8 points as flooring! This is a big help for contractors and architects alike looking to start on the right foot on any new construction projects which require LEED certification. For additional information, contact any of our product specialist or sales reps anytime!
Posted on: December 5th, 2013 by Ben Gonzalez
It’s amazing how time flies. I still remember when my sister announced that she was pregnant with her second bundle of stress, er, joy. It’s almost like it was yesterday. I was better looking, considerably more care-free, and I actually believed I would be the first President of the World Federation. Not to mention the best-selling artist of all time. How else would I win the minds and hearts of the people of earth and convinced the modern nation-states to disband, demilitarize, and unify under one common banner of rock? Well, needless to say, things didn’t quite turn out that way, but at least I get my own blog.
While both my nieces are turning out to be beautiful and talented young ladies, it’s the younger one of these, now 11, that’s becoming quite the accomplished gymnast. Those genes are definitely something that have stayed on the women’s side of our family since I am neither flexible nor athletic. The last “athletic”thing I engaged in was loading gear from my project studio to a large recording studio. Before that it was running, and before that, it was roller-blading, which I absolutely loved. However, there is something certain people seem to find creepy about a 6’4”bearded man rollerblading around the neighborhood in short-shorts and shaking that booty to his favorite 90’s workout jams. Lots of Madonna, Janet Jackson, and other top 40 favorites. *Ya’ll remember “Rhythm is a Dancer”or “Good Vibrations”? Marky Mark before he was Mark Wahlberg? If you have, you might be old. But anyway…
I was recently sent a video of her doing her thing with ribbons. She runs and leaps and somersaults on the carpeted crosslink floor and just completely looks at home. It’s really quite remarkable how young some of these gymnasts are too. One her team-mates could not be older than 7, and she is just FLYING on the balance beam. Legs twirling like a helicopter, with the most serious look on her face. Through a series of routines on balance beams, gymnastics mats, and other gym equipment, these girls seems well on their way to their accolades be it regional or with enough dedication, even the Olympics.