Sunday, April 29, 2007

God Save the People

Well, it's all over now. It was one of the most beautiful experiences I've ever had on stage. I can't remember another cast ever becoming as close and caring and even loving like this one did.

It's amazing that living here for five years I've barely gotten to know anyone. Part of that is simply due to my job which has me out of town more than I'm in.

No show goes perfectly, but this was close. Everyone had a great time and we had an enormously appreciative audience all three shows.

Our town is just a little place, only 12,000 people, and I think that for such a small pool of talent that we put together a pretty good show.

As promised, I'm posting a clip. It's stored on YouTube. It's freakin' ginormous, so fair warning there. This is me singing God Save the Peeps. (Not those peeps!)

I'm a bit of a chubby Jesus, that's for sure, but I had fun. And no, that's not a yarmulke on my head. That's my bald spot.

And before you get on me for that, we don't have any proof that Jesus didn't suffer male pattern baldness!

Well, enjoy, and be kind.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Turn Back, O Man

Tomorrow is opening night. Wish me luck, or a broken leg :-)

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Five from Kos

Kos asked, and was asked, and answered, and asked, and I answered and asked, so he answered and asked, and here we are:

1. Describe your favorite piece of clothing in as much detail as possible.

Oh, lawsy, I'm not very clothing-centric, but I guess I'll answer that my Ariat Sierra Boots. I have a black pair and a henna pair (which is sort of a rust colored brown.) These aren't your typical boots. Rather than having a tall, narrow heel and pointed toes, they're more rounded with a flatter, wider heel, and rubber soled rather than leather. They're more of a working boot than a fancy western boot, with very little adornment, save a simple stitch pattern around the top and heel and the Ariat logo on in front of the ankle. They break in very easily and quickly, and are comfortable even when I'm on my feet all day. They come in very handy when I have to be out in strawberry fields and such, as I don't worry about destroying them like I would if I was in prissy dress shoes. I haven't had sneakers or other dress shoes for a couple years now, though I did have to buy a pair of Nike high-tops for the play I'm in. Can't go clunking about in work boots, however comfy they may be.

2. What brands are you most loyal to, and why?

Ah, now this is easy. Coca-Cola. Pepsi Bad, Coke Good. Coke is the right balance of bitter and sweet. It doesn't taste like melted cotton candy like Pepsi does. Others? Newcastle Brown, for beer. I like a some weight to my beer, with some bitterness, but I also like it smooth, and Newcastle falls right in that sweet spot. Blockbuster over Netflix, because I can get extra movies when I'm done with a mailed one. Cheez-Its over Cheese Nips, because they're crunchier.

Okay, that's enough junk food. How about Ford over Chevy, because they're just freakin' BETTER! And they don't feel so cheap inside. And it runs like a top.

And how about a brand I'll never knowingly spend another dime on in my life. Dell. Dell is shite. My Dell laptop has so many stupid quirky problems that I never experienced with my first three laptops, which were HP, Compaq, and Sony respectively. Plus Dell as a company has screwed over two members of my family over the last couple years, so I'm done with them.

3. If you had to choose one junk food, and for the rest of your life that was the only junk food you were allowed to eat, which would it be?

OMG... Coca-Cola. I could live without every other cookie, cracker, chip, candy, etc., but no Coke, no life! If I had to pick a food food, something solid, it'd defintely be chips n' rilly hot salsa.

4. Who was your first real crush, and what was she like?

Ah, Kelly Calland. We first met in the fourth grade, when we were nine. Our first date was a daytime trip to the movies in Fallon, Nevada. We held hands and I was on top of the world. We played together every day on the playground. Just before we turned 10, Star Wars came to town. Daily during recess we acted out the movie with a big group of friends. I was Luke and she was Leia. Dang, glad we didn't know about the whole brother/sister thing.

Anyway, that summer she moved to Washington and I only heard from her once during the next couple years. In 7th grade she moved back. During our first dance of the year I asked her to dance. We danced the entire time, and I went from crush to first love. We spent hours and hours together, seeing movies, listening to KISS albums, and just being together, hand in hand.

She was awfully pretty, and as she was starting to become a young woman, she was becoming beautiful. She had the cutest birth mark on her temple, a big freckle that was somehow cute on her. She had shoulder length blond hair and cute freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were pretty and brown. She was lively and always smiling. She was proper and never let me kiss her, though we held hands all the time, and I put an arm around her at the movies. She had a rough home life, yet even when complaining about it, she would just get it off her chest and get on with having fun.

Anyway, near the end of that year my own immaturity caught up with me. She decided that she didn't want to go with a boy who still played with Micronauts and Star Wars toys. She wrote me a long note. I tried to talk her out of it, but her mind was set. She was also my first heartbreaker. Every evening I had to ride my bike past her house delivering the paper and I would just pray for a glimpse of her. A couple of times we talked, but I acted so desperate to be back with her that I blew any chance of just being normal. If I'd just been myself, things might have lasted a little longer.

She's a girl I could have married if life had taken a different path. Fortunately for me, it didn't, and I found the woman of my dreams.

5. You have to drive from Denver to San Francisco in 15 hours, and can choose any car ever made to do it in. Which car would you choose? (this question relates to the movie "Vanishing Point," which you must see if you haven't)

Well, I haven't seen Vanishing Point, but I think I would try to find a combo of performance and comfort. I'd have to choose an Aston Martin DB9. Haul-ass fast car, with European comfort to boot.

Okay, that's my five from Kos. Here are the rules if you want to keep it going:

Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me." I will respond by asking you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

You will update your weblog with the answers to the questions, and let me know that you answered. If you don't have a blog, but would still like to play, I can send you the questions, and you can answer 'em in the comments.

You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Saturday, April 14, 2007

Babies and Bathwater

Here's the problem with hypocritical fat fucks like Al Sharpton.

One of the glaring things is that they live in this unreal, black and white world (pardon the pun) where the response to every wrong must be permanent and as humiliating and damaging as possible. There is no sense of proportion.

Yeah, what Imus said was fucked. It's Don Imus. If you're expecting reason and sensitivity, you're whacked. That's why I never listened to him. He's an idiot.

However, Al "The Interloper" Sharpton and his fuck-buddy Jesse "Hymietown" Jackson, would rather have combat for combat's sake. They want to take away every possibility of a platform for this guy, despite being unwilling to give up their own when they spewed racist bullshit.

And out goes the baby with the bathwater. Don Imus, for all his idiocy, performed a lot of good, not the least of which was his ranch.

Despite the foulness of Imus's comments, nobody was actually, materially damaged by his idiocy. An apology, suspension, maybe some sensitivity training (another story, but I digress) was definitely in order. But that's not enough for the hypocrites who run from their hypocrisy at high speed by screaming about the deeds of others before they can be called to answer for their own. And now Sharpton's pressurizing tactics that resulted in the end of Imus's show have likely impacted a lot of innocent bystanding families who stand to lose the sort of aid Imus was able to provide, all so Sharpton could continue to divide the races and puff out his fat ass and pretend that he's accomplished some good.

It's out of proportion, and the idiots who continue to dignify the Sharptons and Jacksons of this world with any sort of attention only serve to hurt others without even realizing what they're doing, or who they're hurting.

Good job, Sharpton. You really cleaned up this town. Not only won't we have Imus, but we won't have to put up with all the fuckin' cripples and lepers anymore.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Thursday Thirteen: Song Surprise

I love music. Love it. I've always got music playing everywhere. I have about a hundred CD's in the car and another 600 in the house, plus another five or six hundred songs on my iTunes I've downloaded here and there.

I was going through my library a little and thought it'd be fun to do a little Thursday Thirteen:

UPDATE: Alright, I can see I'm going to have to 'splain this a little better, especially after Joe's last comment. You see, these songs do not represent my core tastes in music. These are songs that are on my playlist despite the fact that they don't represent my core listening tastes. So, Joe, having seen your playlist 20, I think we do have a lot in common, but I just happen to ALSO have these little tidbits on it as well. We clear? Okay.

Thirteen songs you didn't know were on my playlist:

13. Then He Kissed Me: The Crystals - This is my very absolutely most super favorite oldie ever. I actually first heard this song as a cover by KISS (Then SHE Kissed Me) when I was eleven. Loved the song then, but when I heard the original, it was perfect.

12. Pepper: Butthole Surfers - I don't mind the sun sometimes and the images it shows. I have no idea why I like this song. It's weird and very negative, but I love it.

11. Walk on Water: Men Without Hats - I think by the end of the 80's, I was the only guy left in the US listening to Men Without Hats. Pop Goes the World was one of those albums that wasn't deep or all that original or anything very special, yet I love every song on it and played it for hours (I was nineteen at the time.) Walk on Water is probably my favorite song on it. It's quite derivative, yet it makes my toes tap.

10. Beautiful: Christina Aguilera - This song to me is a gorgeous, simple work of art. I don't care what anyone says, Aguilera's voice is lovely and rich, and the message is real. Sure, it's just a song, but it's a beautiful one. Another song from the same album, The Voice Within, is also on my playlist. I don't know any other songs from the album.

9. Boat on the River: Styx - Styx was number one for me and my best friend Devin back in the late 70's. We liked so many of their semi-prog songs, but besides Come Sail Away, the one song that stuck with me was Boat on the River. I always remembered it and to this day find myself humming it here and there. If my kids heard it today, they'd probably wonder why it sounds so familiar. I sang it to all of them when they were babies falling asleep in my arms.

8. Piss on the Wall: J. Geils Band - All of my friends were listening to this album, but while they were listening to Centerfold and jerking off to pics of Charlene Tilton, I was listening to this song. It's mildly funny, stupid, insipid, and artistically void, but that's what makes it work.

7. LDN: Lily Allen - My buddy Zen turned me on to this, posting it a ways back on his blog. I fell in love right away. She's very funny and clever, and the song's just perfect.

6. Whenever, Wherever: Shakira - Okay, this chick is scary. Over the top on the sexy, which is just not my style. Yet when this song pops up, I can't help put do a little shoulder wiggle along with it. Don't know why. Don't care.

5. The Nth Degree: Morningwood - This is a song I overheard while helping my wife shop for shoes. I'm sitting there in Lady Foot Locker, trying to look like I'm not about to die of abject boredom, when I hear this song pop up on the shop's radio. As I'm listening I'm thinking, "I shouldn't like this. It's droll and smarmy, snappy pop." Yet I couldn't help myself. Off to iTunes that very evening.

4. Tapestry: Carole King - Maybe it's just me, but often it seems my favorite songs on albums are the secondary hits, not the ones that get all the radio play. The album "Tapestry" is one of the primary sounds of my young life, after my parent's divorce. Carole King was a voice of comfort and love, but also melancholy and uncertainty, a reflection of my conflicted state of mind, I'm sure. But it was this sad, sad song about her travel through her own tapestry of life that always touched me most.

3. Odyssey: KISS - In the early 80's, the "Hottest Band in the World" had become a lump of ice swirling about the rim of a flushed toilet. After the sucky "Unmasked," this dedicated KISS fan picked up "Music from The Elder." WTF? Was it a movie? I told mom I wanted to see the movie. She told me I was crazy. But she bought me the album. I think it's because she was hauling me to a Kenny Rogers concert that evening. Anyway, I actually liked much of the album. The voice overs and so-called storyline are smarmy and ridiculous, but some of the songs are actually quite good. The only song anyone's probably heard from this album is "A World Without Heroes" which I believe has remained part of their concert repertoire. However, I've always loved Odyssey, because I see a small group of people crossing the ocean in a sailing ship, heading into the unknown, yet content never to return to the darkness of their old world.

2. Toxic: Britney Spears - I will not apologize for loving this song. I will even admit to attending a Britney Spears concert, though it was under duress (9 year-old daughter's birthday present.) It was actually a decent show, though nothing special. Anyway, there is just something about this minor-key melody that makes it a nice ear-worm, the kind that you like ringing about in your head for a little while. Not to mention the video with Brit in that bang-up mad-awesome deep red hairdo. Um, but yeah, I like the song.

1. Duality: Slipknot - Ordinarily I dislike groups with this much evil in the persona. I know it's just stage stuff, whatever, and I know how it feels (Can you say Ozzy Osbourne?) but it's just too much. When I started hearing the song Duality, and seeing the video on Fuse, I tried to pretend I wasn't liking it. I held out for weeks. Finally I downloaded the damn song, because I just had to.

So, what surprises do you have on your playlist, hmmm?

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Stolen Meme

Snarked from Kos:

1. What's your favorite color ? Green

2. Who's your favorite Beatle ? Paul

3. What's your favorite cooking spice ? Pepper

4. What's your favorite book ? East of Eden, by John Steinbeck

5. Favorite explorer ? Neil Armstrong (couldn't think of a better)

6. Favorite post it note size ? 2" x 2"

7. Favorite Barbara Streisand movie ? What?? That bitch sux. Okay, Yentl.

8. Favorite adjective ? Lovely

9. Favorite car ? Aston Martin DB9

10. Favorite Rat Packer ? Sammy Davis, Jr.

11. Favorite Brat Packer ? Molly Ringwald (or I could throw in Bret Easton Ellis)

12. Favorite Green Bay Packer ? Vince Lombardi

13. Favorite City ? Santa Cruz, California

14. Favorite song ? Then He Kissed Me

15. Favorite adhesive ? Krazy Glue

16. Favorite ex of Liz Taylor's ? Yeah, Burton. Who else?

17. Favorite Brady ? Marsha. I mean, hubba-hubba

18. Favorite Christmas Carol ? Little Drummer Boy

19. Favorite animated monkey ? Apu

20. Favorite Writing Implement ? Mont Blanc

21. Favorite soap ? Dove Free

22. Favorite vegetable ? Asparagus

23. Favorite superhero ? Batman (I was gonna say Aquaman, but, well, more on that later.

24. Favorite Brian Dennehey movie ? Romeo + Juliet

25. Favorite prehistoric family ? The Flintstones

26. Favorite TV Show ? Star Trek: TOS overall. Currently Airing? Forensic Files on Court TV.

27. Favorite movie villain ? Keyser Soze :-) or Darth Vader

28. Favorite candy ? Three Musketeers

29. Favorite movie ? On the Waterfront (well, duh)

30. Favorite berry ? Strawberry, not in the least for the fact that I make my living from them.

31. Favorite breakfast cereal ? Lucky Charms

Monday, April 09, 2007


I am in misery. Nasty cold. Moaning and groaning.

Have you ever noticed how like the sounds of pleasure are the sounds of misery?


Thursday, April 05, 2007

Thursday Thirteen - Allergy Season!

It's allergy season, and I've been an allergic wreck all week. Sneeze-hack-cough-snort-snif-shnarf... Not pretty.

The Claritin has kicked in, so it's not so bad, though it hasn't gone completely away. Generally speaking I'm allergic to pretty much everything that grows. I don't have any food allergies to speak of (one minor exception exists, see below) and I have no medicine allergies. Just pollen and dander.

The allergies were serious. I did three stints in the hospital over it during my childhood, and had to carry an inhaler during my teens.

When I was five I had a scratch test. Don't remember that one. When I was ten and had to change allergists I had another one.

I remember that one. That was a bitch. For those who've never had a scratch test, it's basically legalized medieval torture. Nowadays I believe it's not so... nasty. But back in the olden days, they would draw a grid on your back. IIRC, I went through two batteries of tests on two different days, but it was a long time ago. Then they would put little scratches on your back with a sharp little stupid sharp thingie. But that wasn't the torture. No, then they'd drop pure serum made from whatever the fuck they wanted to test your reaction to. But you could NOT scratch. I reacted to 64 of the 69.

They weren't done, of course. Nope. Then we went into the other room. The nice nurse took my right arm, and between shoulder and elbow wrote the numbers 1 through 17. She moved to my left and wrote the numbers 18 through 34.

Guess what they did with those. Nope, no more tests. Just shots. Thirty four shots. M&*&$%F*&$ERS!! Bad day.

The beauty of it is I repeated it AGAIN when we moved back to California and to a new allergist. I stopped desensitization when I turned 18. I ain't going back.

Of course that means I suffer through seasons like this one.

Since that's on my brain, it's now on my blog. Thirteen things Looney's allergic to:

1. Cats

2. Alfalfa

3. Acacia Trees

4. Crab Grass

5. Chocolate

6. Dandelions

7. Apple Blossoms

8. Dogs

9. Ragweed

10. Molds (lots of 'em)

11. Dust mites

12. Elm Trees

13. Bluegrass (the grass, not the music!)

One of the worst of the above for me is Alfalfa. Did I mention that when I was seven my mother moved us to an alfalfa ranch?

I think she was trying to kill me.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

What's in a Name


Fuck Sweden.

Who the hell's business is it what these people name their kid? Sure, I wouldn't want to see them name her anything you wouldn't be allowed to say in a classroom (which should probably be the only dividing line there.) But who the hell cares?

My daughter would be stoked if we'd named her Metallica. She's pretty ambivalent about them as a group, but she has learned to play one of their songs.

This is the kind of nannying bullshit that would drive me nuts living in Europe. It's the things that don't really matter in general, but turn out to matter to certain people who can't be bothered to keep their nose in their own beeswax.

Forget Denmark. Something's rotten in Sweden.

A Little League of Their Own

Ah, Spring is here!

Out come the boys of Summer... particularly my boys of summer.

Yes, the Looney boys have started Little League. Colin, my youngest, was the instigator. Once he piped up that he wanted to get into it, Evan followed suit.

Colin's in tee-ball. Tee-ball is awesome, because half the kids can't even remember what they're supposed to be doing halfway to first base. They don't broadcast the score, and the standings are basically kept secret until the end of the season, so we can just concentrate on the kids having fun.

Of course, that doesn't mean that all the teams do that. Some coaches are a little more... intense than the others. Being that I'm pretty intense, and that being around people like that, especially in opposition to people like that, really amps me up, it's not a good thing.

Evan is in the Minors, which is definitely more competitive. Since watching him swing a bat is like watching an old guy do Tai Chi in the park, he's only getting on base due to bad pitching, which at this age is, of course, rampant. He's been beaned twice and walked twice. I've got a batting tee and a Hit-Away on order for him, but it is what it is.

The first time he got on base, courtesy of said bean-ball, he didn't cry or fuss (which was a small surprise.) He took his base and worked his way around, eventually getting tagged out on the way home a few batters later. The coach gave him a game-ball that day, for taking one for the team without a tear or a fuss. We're having that sucker mounted.

Did I mention he plays right field? My little trooper. He fielded his first ball yesterday. He got nowhere near catching it, but he did get right to it, snap it up, turn and hit his cut-off man, which is great, considering I usually seem him out there reenacting Scooby-Doo episodes.

Colin's first two games were the same way. Neither the coach nor I could really get him to look in one direction, get into a stance, not fight with three other kids for the ball, get into a proper batting stance, and so on. Then his last game something clicked. He stood in a stance in the field, laser-focused on the batter. He managed to knock down one ball, but he lost the race to home for the force. He muffed the other two that came his way, which is normal, but at least he went after them. After missing the force out he looked like a big-league whiner: head down, muttering to himself, looking up at the crowd as if to say, "Yeah, I know, I'm better than that!"

Then the boy gets up to bat and his stance is perfect. He stares at the ball, squinty-eyed, and waggles his bat a few times, and I hear the coach for the other team say, "Watch out, big hit!" Well, that was cool. Wasn't a big hit, but he did get on base, whacking it through the infield. He would have gotten more on the ball, but he has that natural tendency to drop the back elbow, which takes a lot of power out of the swing. We'll work on that.

He got around to third base and came rumbling (he's a pretty stocky kid, not fat, but solid) home on the next at bat. The opposing fielder snagged the soft hit and raced home and beat him to the plate for the force. Didn't matter. My son slid into home. Okay, technically he slid from home, since he didn't start his slide until he'd touched the base. Where the hell did he learn to do that? He doesn't watch baseball on TV that I know of, and they don't work on sliding until the Minors. Well, it doesn't matter, because it makes for great spectating. He eventually did score a couple runs on the day, and is really getting into his game.

Pictures came yesterday. If I get around to it, I'll scan a couple and patch them into the bottom of this post. In the meantime I'll just bask in my Boys of Summer, and just appreciate how Baseball is much more about these kids than it ever could or should be about the Millionaires Club.


It's about me, dummy!!!


Patzer's Progress
Movie Magic Screenwriter
Film Freaks Film Club
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Yeah Whatever
Under the Bridge
Much That is Hidden
Grapes 2.0
Quotidian Vicissitudes
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Out of Me Head
Ole Blue the Heretic
Stab Film
What is Hip



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