Lots of random entries floating through my mind right now…
1) Yes, yesterday’s post seemed to go in a number of different directions. Part of that was intentional and part of it was due to the fact that I’ve probably written that piece about a dozen times over the past three years and I’m not sure if I’ve ever gotten it to work. So if at times it felt like you were reading different stories written over several years intertwined, well, you were. Still, it was just one of those things that I needed to write.
2) Barbaro update: His jockey visited him in the veterinary hospital today. Barbaro’s reaction: “Cool, it’s that guy who beats me with a whip all the time. Exactly who I wanted to see right now.” (Hey, don’t blame me. It’s another line that I’ve stolen from Deadspin). It’s interesting that this is still a story, it really just shows that this horse did strike a chord with people. There is a sociological paper there, what does it mean when the Secretariat’s of the world become a celebrity beyond being a champion thoroughbred.
3) Had a fun experience at work this morning. Get to my cube and saw that my computer was showing the blue screen of death and would not reboot. That always makes your heart stop for a moment when you realize that you may have just lost months of your life to a computer failure. The good news is that I owe the Help Desk a debt of gratitude as they were able to get the machine restarted by the afternoon with no loss of data. But it was fun spending the morning sans laptop. I start going into email withdrawl after two hours.
4) Got some news on what is probably my most embarrassing reality television addiction: they are doing Big Brother: All Stars this summer. I can’t really explain why I like Big Brother, it’s take a lot of annoying people, stick them in a faux Real World house, and have them alternate between voting each other out and just trying to kill each other. There is something really engrossing about watching people you can’t stand make fools out of themselves. Oh well, my hope is that the All Star cast will have some of the cool people returning (Kaysar and Nokomis topping my list). But more likely we will just have every annoying person in the house at the same time until you just hope that they all lose.
5) Oh, I’d link to this if I could find it right now but some people are trying to put together a real life Super Mario Brothers game. As in they hook you up to a harness and bungee chords and you get to jump twenty feet in the air and grab these big suspended coins and bounce on mushrooms and stuff. Am I the only person who thinks that this is the greatest idea ever? Screw playing laser tag, this would be so much more awesome. Well, not as cool as empty keg Donkey Kong, which requires a long staircase, an empty keg, and a lot of guys with no regard for their physical well being.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
Songbook: Volume Four
Can’t believe that it has been nine years already….
Songbook: Jeff Buckley “Grace”
One of my favorite places on the planet is the Long Room in the library of Trinity College Dublin. If you’ve ever visited it is the room you enter after viewing the Book of Kells. Just moments after gazing at this centuries old, amazingly illustrated manuscript you walk into this room that consists of books from floor to ceiling for two stories. It seems to stretch forever and there doesn’t even appear to be aisles, it’s as if there is just wall after wall of books that are each hundreds of years olds. You can smell the words seeping off of the pages. The first time that I stood in that room and experienced what was around me convinced me of one of the main tenets of life.
I wish I could tell you that I can remember the first time I ever listened to Jeff Buckley but that moment has been lost in the mists of time. It was almost certainly on Alternative Nation or 120 Minutes as I sat in my dorm room working through another interminable set of circuit diagrams. I probably read a review of Grace in either The Onion (before it was cool) or Rolling Stone (which really never was). All I know is that every time that Last Goodbye would come on I would stop what I was doing and take a moment to watch the video and listen to the song.
I bought Grace while I was in school, junior year if my other memories are correct. That is something in and of itself, that even as a poor college student I liked Last Goodbye enough to pick up the disc and then, in a continually misguided effort, place a couple of songs on a mix tape that I gave to a girl in an attempt to impress her. It didn’t work but I don’t blame Jeff for that. I wouldn’t have dated the college version of myself, either.
But I would listen to the disc often. In the age of flannel and Nirvana and, god help us all, Bush as a popular band here was something different. Here was a guy with this massive voice and a magnetizing presence on screen. He seemed to have been created more than he existed. Like a guy really shouldn’t have a five octave range and play a mean guitar and look like a model and carry himself like he didn’t care about anything in the world other than his music. It was the type of music that you listened to late at night while sitting in the dark because you knew, you just knew, that somewhere in there were the answers.
Still, I was a fan but not a huge one. When he played in Chicago the night before I graduated from college I didn’t complain that I was going to miss the show. Even if I had been home I wouldn’t have gone, making my way to the Metro was something I just didn’t do back then. That took a bit of courage that I didn’t quite possess. Jeff was just another college rock guy in my ever-growing CD collection. His music was part of the soundtrack of my life.
Time passes. I find myself working in downtown Chicago doing a job that I am surprisingly good at even if it entails looking at numbers on a screen at making sense of them. The job also provided me with a barely policed internet connection that I took great advantage of by surfing the web. And while sitting in my little cubicle I clicked on a music news web site and read “Jeff Buckley missing in Memphis.” And with a shocked look I read that he had waded into the Wolf River and had disappeared. With dread I followed the story until the sad end when his body was found floating at the foot of Beale Street. He was just 31 years old.
In “Killing Yourself to Live”, Chuck Klosterman wrote that Jeff Buckley became famous for dying. That he went from being an avant garde artist with a good voice to a genius due to dying young. I don’t quite agree with that because it discounts all that he had done. But this is true, from that moment on I and a lot of other fans would discuss Jeff not in terms of what he was but what he could have been. And oh, what he could have been.
There are glimpses and traces of brilliance in his music. Phrases that seem to mirror your soul, a reinterpretation of Leonard Cohen’s “Halleluiah” that completely alters your view on the song. Over the years his family has continued to release his live recordings and other songs that he was working on prior to his death and with each one I found another aspect that I had never noticed before. His mom posted to a web site once, “As long as there are people out there who are being touched by Jeff’s music, we will continue to make it available.” And I fall into that category.
Here is the only way that I can explain it, the only way to try to express how entwined his music has become with my life. One of the things that they released was a live DVD of the show at the Metro. I picked it up and was watching it when I found out that I was heading to ND for B-School. I took it as a sign and decided that prior to every test I would play the DVD while studying. Over two years I probably played this DVD a hundred times. I could tell you every note, every introduction to a song, even the words yelled by the crowd. It never got old, it always focused my attention on the subject and when the last notes of “Halleluiah” ended I knew, I just knew, that I had nothing to worry about. And I was right; it always worked out in the end. It’s odd but if you ask me what music I will remember from Notre Dame twenty years from now it won’t be the playlist from the Backer, it will be Jeff Buckley standing on stage in Chicago years earlier and giving it his all.
One night I was sitting at the edge of a bar talking to a girl about everything and nothing at all. Music came up and I mentioned that I had just finished listening to a Jeff Buckley CD and she just looked at me stunned with her jaw slowly dropping to the floor. She grabbed my arm and mouthed, “Halleluiah is my favorite song.” And for a fleeting instant, the world became much smaller…
Because that moment proved that Jeff Buckley accomplished what all of the authors in the Long Room had, they were remembered. Years after the fact two people could connect over their reactions to a simple piece of music that he had created. It is the legacy that we are all striving for: to simply be remembered after we are gone. And for as long as I’m around the power and the brilliance of his music will be remembered.
Songbook: Jeff Buckley “Grace”
One of my favorite places on the planet is the Long Room in the library of Trinity College Dublin. If you’ve ever visited it is the room you enter after viewing the Book of Kells. Just moments after gazing at this centuries old, amazingly illustrated manuscript you walk into this room that consists of books from floor to ceiling for two stories. It seems to stretch forever and there doesn’t even appear to be aisles, it’s as if there is just wall after wall of books that are each hundreds of years olds. You can smell the words seeping off of the pages. The first time that I stood in that room and experienced what was around me convinced me of one of the main tenets of life.
I wish I could tell you that I can remember the first time I ever listened to Jeff Buckley but that moment has been lost in the mists of time. It was almost certainly on Alternative Nation or 120 Minutes as I sat in my dorm room working through another interminable set of circuit diagrams. I probably read a review of Grace in either The Onion (before it was cool) or Rolling Stone (which really never was). All I know is that every time that Last Goodbye would come on I would stop what I was doing and take a moment to watch the video and listen to the song.
I bought Grace while I was in school, junior year if my other memories are correct. That is something in and of itself, that even as a poor college student I liked Last Goodbye enough to pick up the disc and then, in a continually misguided effort, place a couple of songs on a mix tape that I gave to a girl in an attempt to impress her. It didn’t work but I don’t blame Jeff for that. I wouldn’t have dated the college version of myself, either.
But I would listen to the disc often. In the age of flannel and Nirvana and, god help us all, Bush as a popular band here was something different. Here was a guy with this massive voice and a magnetizing presence on screen. He seemed to have been created more than he existed. Like a guy really shouldn’t have a five octave range and play a mean guitar and look like a model and carry himself like he didn’t care about anything in the world other than his music. It was the type of music that you listened to late at night while sitting in the dark because you knew, you just knew, that somewhere in there were the answers.
Still, I was a fan but not a huge one. When he played in Chicago the night before I graduated from college I didn’t complain that I was going to miss the show. Even if I had been home I wouldn’t have gone, making my way to the Metro was something I just didn’t do back then. That took a bit of courage that I didn’t quite possess. Jeff was just another college rock guy in my ever-growing CD collection. His music was part of the soundtrack of my life.
Time passes. I find myself working in downtown Chicago doing a job that I am surprisingly good at even if it entails looking at numbers on a screen at making sense of them. The job also provided me with a barely policed internet connection that I took great advantage of by surfing the web. And while sitting in my little cubicle I clicked on a music news web site and read “Jeff Buckley missing in Memphis.” And with a shocked look I read that he had waded into the Wolf River and had disappeared. With dread I followed the story until the sad end when his body was found floating at the foot of Beale Street. He was just 31 years old.
In “Killing Yourself to Live”, Chuck Klosterman wrote that Jeff Buckley became famous for dying. That he went from being an avant garde artist with a good voice to a genius due to dying young. I don’t quite agree with that because it discounts all that he had done. But this is true, from that moment on I and a lot of other fans would discuss Jeff not in terms of what he was but what he could have been. And oh, what he could have been.
There are glimpses and traces of brilliance in his music. Phrases that seem to mirror your soul, a reinterpretation of Leonard Cohen’s “Halleluiah” that completely alters your view on the song. Over the years his family has continued to release his live recordings and other songs that he was working on prior to his death and with each one I found another aspect that I had never noticed before. His mom posted to a web site once, “As long as there are people out there who are being touched by Jeff’s music, we will continue to make it available.” And I fall into that category.
Here is the only way that I can explain it, the only way to try to express how entwined his music has become with my life. One of the things that they released was a live DVD of the show at the Metro. I picked it up and was watching it when I found out that I was heading to ND for B-School. I took it as a sign and decided that prior to every test I would play the DVD while studying. Over two years I probably played this DVD a hundred times. I could tell you every note, every introduction to a song, even the words yelled by the crowd. It never got old, it always focused my attention on the subject and when the last notes of “Halleluiah” ended I knew, I just knew, that I had nothing to worry about. And I was right; it always worked out in the end. It’s odd but if you ask me what music I will remember from Notre Dame twenty years from now it won’t be the playlist from the Backer, it will be Jeff Buckley standing on stage in Chicago years earlier and giving it his all.
One night I was sitting at the edge of a bar talking to a girl about everything and nothing at all. Music came up and I mentioned that I had just finished listening to a Jeff Buckley CD and she just looked at me stunned with her jaw slowly dropping to the floor. She grabbed my arm and mouthed, “Halleluiah is my favorite song.” And for a fleeting instant, the world became much smaller…
Because that moment proved that Jeff Buckley accomplished what all of the authors in the Long Room had, they were remembered. Years after the fact two people could connect over their reactions to a simple piece of music that he had created. It is the legacy that we are all striving for: to simply be remembered after we are gone. And for as long as I’m around the power and the brilliance of his music will be remembered.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Going round in ovals
12:21 P.M.: And we are coming to you live from the summer residence of EC International, which is surprisingly similar to the winter and fall residences. But we have a cast of, yeah it’s just me again. Dude, even my barbecues suck.
12:22 P.M.: This time I’m going to live blog the Indy 500, one of my favorite sporting events of all time. Now I’m going to try to figure out how to make a 500 mile race read interesting.
12:24 P.M.: And yes, I know that I’ve missed the start of the race, including Jim Nabors singing Back Home Again in Indiana. I am bummed about that but I had a prior commitment. There are a few things in life that take precedence over writing.
12:29 P.M.: Here is a cool development, when they go to commercial they keep the race on in a picture in picture sort of deal. This saves you from the “everything cool always happens when they are in commercial” effect. On the other hand, eliminating this effect could also result in the elimination of anything cool ever happening.
12:30 P.M.: From Danica Patrick’s in car audio
Danica: “We need to go faster”
Crew Chief: “Well, it would help if you took it out of second gear.”
12:38 P.M.: Stephan Gregoire is making another run at Indy. He was my favorite story of last year, as he didn’t have a ride going into the last day of qualifying so he went with his wife to Babies R Us and was then called back to the track by A.J. Foyt. Gregoire then sat in the car and qualified. I love this story for two reasons. One, how bad ass are you when someone could just call you up and within two hours you are going 215 MPH down a track in a car you haven’t been in before. Second, this is the only time in the history of the planet where a guy can have a story start with “So I was at Babies R Us” and have it turn into anything interesting.
12:48 P.M.: Hey, I completely forgot to write about the Barbaro phenomenon last week. Now, I watched the Preakness and was saddened when I saw the horse break down because he was a really good racehorse. And I am happy to see that they saved the horse. But I’m at a loss for words for the people who are sending get well cards and letters. Or posting to online message boards. Because, let’s face it, he’s a horse. If he can also read we probably should not have been racing him.
1:09 P.M.: Thomas Sheckter continues his annual tradition of crashing at the Indy 500. Seriously, I don’t think that this guy has ever made it through a race without running into someone else or the wall.
1:11 P.M.: Pit stops, one of the most important and strategic portions of the race. It can keep you on the edge of your seat. Still, this doesn’t change the fact that I’ve just spent a few minutes of my life watching people get gas.
1:26 P.M.: I think they finally told Michael Andretti that he’s been driving with his left blinker on for the past fifty miles.
1:28 P.M.: Another part of the Barbaro story. We are basically wishing a horse well so that he could be put out to stud. Sure, we want the horse to live but mainly we want to be sure that he gets to score. And this line isn’t mine but it is the best that I read all week. “Why is it that we say a colt gets put out to stud but we never say that a champion filly gets put out to whore?”
1:36 P.M.: From Danica Patrick’s in car audio
Danica: “So where are we going again?”
Crew Chief: “Just turn left.”
Danica: “Are you sure of that?”
Crew Chief: “Yes, just turn left.”
Danica: “Maybe you should check the map again.”
Crew Chief: “For crying out loud, I know what I’m doing here.”
Danica: “Well you don’t have to yell…”
1:48 P.M.: Helio Castroneves runs into the back of Buddy Rice. For those of you wondering, Helio is the guy who climbs the fence when he wins the race. Hey, you’ve got to be known for something in life. Admittedly, I’d rather be Dario Franchitti and be known as the guy who is married to Ashley Judd.
2:29 P.M.: Little Al hits the wall. Otherwise, it’s just been guys going around in circles for a while.
2:47 P.M.: I think that we’ve been under yellow for the past twenty minutes. I am at a loss as to how to make guys driving in circles for twenty minutes at fifty miles an hour to be interesting. Still, this probably beats what I could accomplish if I blogged the national spelling bee championship on Thursday night. That said, I’ve got serious money riding on that spelling bee. Nothing like risking your paycheck on a home schooled ten year old.
2:54 P.M.: From Danica Patrick’s in car audio
Crew Chief: “All right we need you to make a move right now.”
Danica: “I know, I know.”
Crew Chief: “Get in there and fight.”
Danica: “Will you just be quiet and let me drive? Because if you don’t I’m just going to pull over right now.”
(Actually, Danica is driving a great race. Easily on pace for a top ten and maybe a top five finish. People make an Anna Kournikova reference with her and that really isn’t fair. Anna was basically all style over substance and was focused on style. Danica is racing as well as a second year racer (who doesn’t have a whole lot of other racing experience) could ever be expected to. She will win a race one of these weeks.)
3:02 P.M.: Marco Andretti, the 19 year old son of Michael Andretti, is running in third right now. That is really, really impressive. When I was nineteen I would barely trust myself driving on an expressway. This kid is running at the front of one of the biggest races in the world.
3:16 P.M.: And with a handful of laps left, Michael Andretti has taken the lead. Michael who has had the worst luck in the history of racing at Indy might actually have a chance at this thing. Or the Andretti luck is going to strike again. Let’s see what happens.
3:20 P.M.: And Marco just passed Michael with three to go with Sam Hornish Jr. trying to make a run.
3:22 P.M.: And Sam Hornish takes him at the stripe. Man, what a finish. That’s why I watch auto racing. Great finish by the Andrettis, though. A nineteen year old isn’t supposed to finish second at Indy and Michael finishes third, which isn’t bad for a guy who retired to be a team owner a few years back. Danica finishes eighth after being pushed back in the field due to pit stops and caution flags.
The five random CDs for the week
1) Howie Day “Live from…”
2) The Sundays “Blind”
3) Julie Miller “Broken Things”
4) Jack Ingram “Live from Billy Bob’s”
5) R.E.M. “Out of Time”
12:22 P.M.: This time I’m going to live blog the Indy 500, one of my favorite sporting events of all time. Now I’m going to try to figure out how to make a 500 mile race read interesting.
12:24 P.M.: And yes, I know that I’ve missed the start of the race, including Jim Nabors singing Back Home Again in Indiana. I am bummed about that but I had a prior commitment. There are a few things in life that take precedence over writing.
12:29 P.M.: Here is a cool development, when they go to commercial they keep the race on in a picture in picture sort of deal. This saves you from the “everything cool always happens when they are in commercial” effect. On the other hand, eliminating this effect could also result in the elimination of anything cool ever happening.
12:30 P.M.: From Danica Patrick’s in car audio
Danica: “We need to go faster”
Crew Chief: “Well, it would help if you took it out of second gear.”
12:38 P.M.: Stephan Gregoire is making another run at Indy. He was my favorite story of last year, as he didn’t have a ride going into the last day of qualifying so he went with his wife to Babies R Us and was then called back to the track by A.J. Foyt. Gregoire then sat in the car and qualified. I love this story for two reasons. One, how bad ass are you when someone could just call you up and within two hours you are going 215 MPH down a track in a car you haven’t been in before. Second, this is the only time in the history of the planet where a guy can have a story start with “So I was at Babies R Us” and have it turn into anything interesting.
12:48 P.M.: Hey, I completely forgot to write about the Barbaro phenomenon last week. Now, I watched the Preakness and was saddened when I saw the horse break down because he was a really good racehorse. And I am happy to see that they saved the horse. But I’m at a loss for words for the people who are sending get well cards and letters. Or posting to online message boards. Because, let’s face it, he’s a horse. If he can also read we probably should not have been racing him.
1:09 P.M.: Thomas Sheckter continues his annual tradition of crashing at the Indy 500. Seriously, I don’t think that this guy has ever made it through a race without running into someone else or the wall.
1:11 P.M.: Pit stops, one of the most important and strategic portions of the race. It can keep you on the edge of your seat. Still, this doesn’t change the fact that I’ve just spent a few minutes of my life watching people get gas.
1:26 P.M.: I think they finally told Michael Andretti that he’s been driving with his left blinker on for the past fifty miles.
1:28 P.M.: Another part of the Barbaro story. We are basically wishing a horse well so that he could be put out to stud. Sure, we want the horse to live but mainly we want to be sure that he gets to score. And this line isn’t mine but it is the best that I read all week. “Why is it that we say a colt gets put out to stud but we never say that a champion filly gets put out to whore?”
1:36 P.M.: From Danica Patrick’s in car audio
Danica: “So where are we going again?”
Crew Chief: “Just turn left.”
Danica: “Are you sure of that?”
Crew Chief: “Yes, just turn left.”
Danica: “Maybe you should check the map again.”
Crew Chief: “For crying out loud, I know what I’m doing here.”
Danica: “Well you don’t have to yell…”
1:48 P.M.: Helio Castroneves runs into the back of Buddy Rice. For those of you wondering, Helio is the guy who climbs the fence when he wins the race. Hey, you’ve got to be known for something in life. Admittedly, I’d rather be Dario Franchitti and be known as the guy who is married to Ashley Judd.
2:29 P.M.: Little Al hits the wall. Otherwise, it’s just been guys going around in circles for a while.
2:47 P.M.: I think that we’ve been under yellow for the past twenty minutes. I am at a loss as to how to make guys driving in circles for twenty minutes at fifty miles an hour to be interesting. Still, this probably beats what I could accomplish if I blogged the national spelling bee championship on Thursday night. That said, I’ve got serious money riding on that spelling bee. Nothing like risking your paycheck on a home schooled ten year old.
2:54 P.M.: From Danica Patrick’s in car audio
Crew Chief: “All right we need you to make a move right now.”
Danica: “I know, I know.”
Crew Chief: “Get in there and fight.”
Danica: “Will you just be quiet and let me drive? Because if you don’t I’m just going to pull over right now.”
(Actually, Danica is driving a great race. Easily on pace for a top ten and maybe a top five finish. People make an Anna Kournikova reference with her and that really isn’t fair. Anna was basically all style over substance and was focused on style. Danica is racing as well as a second year racer (who doesn’t have a whole lot of other racing experience) could ever be expected to. She will win a race one of these weeks.)
3:02 P.M.: Marco Andretti, the 19 year old son of Michael Andretti, is running in third right now. That is really, really impressive. When I was nineteen I would barely trust myself driving on an expressway. This kid is running at the front of one of the biggest races in the world.
3:16 P.M.: And with a handful of laps left, Michael Andretti has taken the lead. Michael who has had the worst luck in the history of racing at Indy might actually have a chance at this thing. Or the Andretti luck is going to strike again. Let’s see what happens.
3:20 P.M.: And Marco just passed Michael with three to go with Sam Hornish Jr. trying to make a run.
3:22 P.M.: And Sam Hornish takes him at the stripe. Man, what a finish. That’s why I watch auto racing. Great finish by the Andrettis, though. A nineteen year old isn’t supposed to finish second at Indy and Michael finishes third, which isn’t bad for a guy who retired to be a team owner a few years back. Danica finishes eighth after being pushed back in the field due to pit stops and caution flags.
The five random CDs for the week
1) Howie Day “Live from…”
2) The Sundays “Blind”
3) Julie Miller “Broken Things”
4) Jack Ingram “Live from Billy Bob’s”
5) R.E.M. “Out of Time”
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Name that Name
Yet Another Trivia Update: Unable to pull off the three peat as we were leading going in to the last question but ended up missing the question on Blade Runner. Yeah, I’m embarrassed by the fact that I didn’t know the answer to a science fiction question, especially given that I have read “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?”, which is the story on which the movie is based. Apparently, I don’t know everything. Though I did sweep the Indy 500 category.
But the question and complaint on the team name of Kai Badgers is a valid one. First, here is how the name came to be. I have previously played as Cobra Kai, which is a pretty cool name. But those teams are really my teams, it was either me playing as a lone wolf or with one other partner, who given that he is from Sri Lanka isn’t really helpful on the 80’s television questions. So, given that it is tough to win by myself I’ve joined up with another team of guys I’ve joked with for months. They’ve taken to call themselves the Badgers since one of the guys is from Kenosha. Hence, the Kai Badgers.
It’s not the name that I would prefer. The best name that I came up with was Inanimate Carbon Rod, named after my favorite Simpsons character of all time. Dr. Wang will rise again, but that is saved for special occasions. But if anyone is willing to suggest new trivia names I am more than willing to use them. Imagine, your suggestion could have a room full of drunken trivia players going “God damnit, those bastards are winning again.”
I should also note that since I’ve joined another team I’m not the team leader here. I’m more of the guy who you can turn to for an answer in nearly any subject. It’s nice to not be in charge all of the time, though if I could get enough people from other aspects of my life I’d like to retake the team captain role. Though in those cases I tend to yell at people when they get questions wrong.
That was the other point that I wanted to make one night. Probably one of the reasons that I play trivia is this is the easiest way for me to have my competitive outlet. I’m not an athlete and have never been an athlete. Heck, I’ve only grown into my body and stopped being awkward for maybe two years now and I suffered so many injuries from being awkward and clumsy I can’t take advantage of the fact that I am now moderately coordinated. So I can’t compete in sports and I’ve never been one to be one of those loud obnoxious guys in the bars who compete in everything from drinking to getting digits to just existing. But I still have this need to challenge people and trivia it is.
But at least I’ll have some time off from it for a few days. Going to see Jon Dee Graham tomorrow night, which is much better than recalling the theme songs to 90’s sitcoms. I’m still not quite sure what else I am going to do this long weekend other than try to put some of my life in order. I will have a new Songbook entry early next week that I am going to take some time to write. It’s one that I’ve been meaning to write for three years so hopefully it will be worth the wait. Enjoy the weekend everyone.
But the question and complaint on the team name of Kai Badgers is a valid one. First, here is how the name came to be. I have previously played as Cobra Kai, which is a pretty cool name. But those teams are really my teams, it was either me playing as a lone wolf or with one other partner, who given that he is from Sri Lanka isn’t really helpful on the 80’s television questions. So, given that it is tough to win by myself I’ve joined up with another team of guys I’ve joked with for months. They’ve taken to call themselves the Badgers since one of the guys is from Kenosha. Hence, the Kai Badgers.
It’s not the name that I would prefer. The best name that I came up with was Inanimate Carbon Rod, named after my favorite Simpsons character of all time. Dr. Wang will rise again, but that is saved for special occasions. But if anyone is willing to suggest new trivia names I am more than willing to use them. Imagine, your suggestion could have a room full of drunken trivia players going “God damnit, those bastards are winning again.”
I should also note that since I’ve joined another team I’m not the team leader here. I’m more of the guy who you can turn to for an answer in nearly any subject. It’s nice to not be in charge all of the time, though if I could get enough people from other aspects of my life I’d like to retake the team captain role. Though in those cases I tend to yell at people when they get questions wrong.
That was the other point that I wanted to make one night. Probably one of the reasons that I play trivia is this is the easiest way for me to have my competitive outlet. I’m not an athlete and have never been an athlete. Heck, I’ve only grown into my body and stopped being awkward for maybe two years now and I suffered so many injuries from being awkward and clumsy I can’t take advantage of the fact that I am now moderately coordinated. So I can’t compete in sports and I’ve never been one to be one of those loud obnoxious guys in the bars who compete in everything from drinking to getting digits to just existing. But I still have this need to challenge people and trivia it is.
But at least I’ll have some time off from it for a few days. Going to see Jon Dee Graham tomorrow night, which is much better than recalling the theme songs to 90’s sitcoms. I’m still not quite sure what else I am going to do this long weekend other than try to put some of my life in order. I will have a new Songbook entry early next week that I am going to take some time to write. It’s one that I’ve been meaning to write for three years so hopefully it will be worth the wait. Enjoy the weekend everyone.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Trivia fiend
Yet another trivia update: Victorious for the second game in the row this time moving a little farther down Westport Road and taking the prize at the Westport Flea Market. Yes, not since the days of Tom Emansky’s back to back to back AAU championship teams has their been a consistently dominating performance equaling that of the Kai Badgers. Ok, maybe winning bar trivia isn’t that impressive a feat but I’m getting to the point where it is legitimately becoming a second income. I’m not just covering tonight’s bar tab, I’m carrying the bar tab for the week.
(Tonight’s insanely dumb knowledge that wins me money: Knowing that the only team that ever traded Pete Rose were the Montreal Expos, being able to identify the Men Without Hats video “The Safety Dance” from one still image, knowing who voiced Mr. Incredible and that Ric Flair’s entrance music (and the theme from 2001) is called Thus Spake Zarathustra. Though I am still pissed that I wasn’t able to recognize Falco’s “Rock Me Amadeus” from the still frame of the video. I thought it was a Roxy Music video for some reason.)
Given that I talk about trivia a lot and since that is what a lot of this blog is about I might as well explain why I know all of this stuff. I mean, I’ll never state that being able to rattle off information on the Simpsons or being able to quote Monty Python incessantly is a useful skill and to be honest, it probably isn’t something that one is looking for in a mate. But sadly, this is my best skill so it deserves to be discussed.
I am blessed with a photographic memory, which most people will confuse with intelligence and I’ve never really done anything to change that misconception. It’s why I’m really good in a classroom or on a test, all I do is memorize everything and then when I get a test paper I effectively hit print and list everything back out again. That’s not intelligence or showing the ability to create leaps of logic but it does result in good grades. But as I’ve found out, my memory is best on subjects I like and really poor on subjects I don’t enjoy. So, despite the fact that I had to study them in every electrical engineering class for three years I could never memorize Maxwell’s equations, even though they were the basis of my entire first career. But if you ask me what Alf’s name was I can immediately answer “Gordon Schumway.”
That memory isn’t well organized though and that is probably the key to my trivia ability. Let’s take the question “What was the only team to ever trade Pete Rose?” Most people would immediately think of the two teams most associated with Pete Rose: the Reds and the Phillies. Here is how my brain works. “Ok, this is a high point question so it isn’t going to be easy. Now I know that Pete Rose played for the Expos because I saw him hit a ball off of Lee Smith’s shoulder into a double play in a Cubs-Expos game as a kid so obviously it is the Expos. Henry Cotto caught the ball off of Smith’s shoulder and Andre Dawson (who was still with the Expos at the time and was my favorite player) had a home run in that game.” Did I know the correct answer? Yes. Did I know it for a reason that would make any sense at all? No.
And I do (and have for a very long time) study trivia. I read a lot of those general knowledge books, one of my favorites being the Why Things Are series. That is why I can take a run at so many different subjects, I’ve basically read up on all of them. I never bought these books to win contests or to show that I know more than other people. It really ties in to who I am. See, it amazes me every day that there is stuff that I don’t know. Like the fact that I don’t know all the bones in the human body or how a fax machine works or how to build a toaster. And that is what keeps me going, the fact that I can always learn something new and find out something that I didn’t know before. To some people I think that they are frightened by all of this information that they don’t know or don’t understand. I just view it as another mountain to conquer and one that is a lot more enjoyable than most.
(Tonight’s insanely dumb knowledge that wins me money: Knowing that the only team that ever traded Pete Rose were the Montreal Expos, being able to identify the Men Without Hats video “The Safety Dance” from one still image, knowing who voiced Mr. Incredible and that Ric Flair’s entrance music (and the theme from 2001) is called Thus Spake Zarathustra. Though I am still pissed that I wasn’t able to recognize Falco’s “Rock Me Amadeus” from the still frame of the video. I thought it was a Roxy Music video for some reason.)
Given that I talk about trivia a lot and since that is what a lot of this blog is about I might as well explain why I know all of this stuff. I mean, I’ll never state that being able to rattle off information on the Simpsons or being able to quote Monty Python incessantly is a useful skill and to be honest, it probably isn’t something that one is looking for in a mate. But sadly, this is my best skill so it deserves to be discussed.
I am blessed with a photographic memory, which most people will confuse with intelligence and I’ve never really done anything to change that misconception. It’s why I’m really good in a classroom or on a test, all I do is memorize everything and then when I get a test paper I effectively hit print and list everything back out again. That’s not intelligence or showing the ability to create leaps of logic but it does result in good grades. But as I’ve found out, my memory is best on subjects I like and really poor on subjects I don’t enjoy. So, despite the fact that I had to study them in every electrical engineering class for three years I could never memorize Maxwell’s equations, even though they were the basis of my entire first career. But if you ask me what Alf’s name was I can immediately answer “Gordon Schumway.”
That memory isn’t well organized though and that is probably the key to my trivia ability. Let’s take the question “What was the only team to ever trade Pete Rose?” Most people would immediately think of the two teams most associated with Pete Rose: the Reds and the Phillies. Here is how my brain works. “Ok, this is a high point question so it isn’t going to be easy. Now I know that Pete Rose played for the Expos because I saw him hit a ball off of Lee Smith’s shoulder into a double play in a Cubs-Expos game as a kid so obviously it is the Expos. Henry Cotto caught the ball off of Smith’s shoulder and Andre Dawson (who was still with the Expos at the time and was my favorite player) had a home run in that game.” Did I know the correct answer? Yes. Did I know it for a reason that would make any sense at all? No.
And I do (and have for a very long time) study trivia. I read a lot of those general knowledge books, one of my favorites being the Why Things Are series. That is why I can take a run at so many different subjects, I’ve basically read up on all of them. I never bought these books to win contests or to show that I know more than other people. It really ties in to who I am. See, it amazes me every day that there is stuff that I don’t know. Like the fact that I don’t know all the bones in the human body or how a fax machine works or how to build a toaster. And that is what keeps me going, the fact that I can always learn something new and find out something that I didn’t know before. To some people I think that they are frightened by all of this information that they don’t know or don’t understand. I just view it as another mountain to conquer and one that is a lot more enjoyable than most.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
In a rambling mood...
Correction: It was 70,000 beer cans, not 700,000. Look, it was only a factor of ten, in engineering that is considered a perfectly respectable mistake. It also explains why I was a very, very poor excuse for an engineer.
That said, saw another news story today of a guy being pulled over in Lithuania with a blood alcohol level that was seventeen times the legal limit. At seventeen times the limit you should not be operating a motor vehicle. Technically, you shouldn’t even be alive at that point. It’s when the phrase, “I need to put a little more blood in my alcohol stream” is perfectly valid. But wow, the limits of what the human body can withstand is rather impressive.
Got a couple of other things to ramble on about tonight. I’ve been playing around with Pandora.com and it is a really good streaming music site. You enter the bands that you like and it creates your own personalized online radio station based on the musical qualities of the bands that you entered. Don’t ask me how they quantified the musical qualities of a band, all I know is that they have made me aware of some new bands. They’ve also made me feel very depressed as I go, “Wow, this is a really good song” only to find out that it is a Michelle Branch song and I am embarrassed to think that even for a second I was impressed by it. Yeah, it’s not easy being a music snob.
Also, while hanging out in the record store this evening I found out that I could get Fraggle Rock on DVD. Is it wrong that I found this to be one of the highlights of my day? I mean, how freaking sweet would it be to wake up one morning and just sit on the couch and watch Fraggle Rock episodes for like four hours? Including a commentary track, because there are such delicate intricacies that you just don’t catch the first time around. It’s nice to know that the studios have figured out that by putting shows that I watched when I was nine on DVD they can basically have my paycheck forwarded to them.
Oh, and one last note from the trivia contest last night. One of the sponsors was a blog that focuses on the Kansas City bar scene. Yes, I apparently have competition here that I was completely unaware of. It was nice running through there little magazine and going “Drank there, drank there, I’m banned from that place…” But it does look like I’ll have to start commenting on their blog to a) share my expertise and b) do a little cross promotion for this edge of the internet.
That’s about it for a lazy, hazy Tuesday. Life can’t be all fun and adventure.
That said, saw another news story today of a guy being pulled over in Lithuania with a blood alcohol level that was seventeen times the legal limit. At seventeen times the limit you should not be operating a motor vehicle. Technically, you shouldn’t even be alive at that point. It’s when the phrase, “I need to put a little more blood in my alcohol stream” is perfectly valid. But wow, the limits of what the human body can withstand is rather impressive.
Got a couple of other things to ramble on about tonight. I’ve been playing around with Pandora.com and it is a really good streaming music site. You enter the bands that you like and it creates your own personalized online radio station based on the musical qualities of the bands that you entered. Don’t ask me how they quantified the musical qualities of a band, all I know is that they have made me aware of some new bands. They’ve also made me feel very depressed as I go, “Wow, this is a really good song” only to find out that it is a Michelle Branch song and I am embarrassed to think that even for a second I was impressed by it. Yeah, it’s not easy being a music snob.
Also, while hanging out in the record store this evening I found out that I could get Fraggle Rock on DVD. Is it wrong that I found this to be one of the highlights of my day? I mean, how freaking sweet would it be to wake up one morning and just sit on the couch and watch Fraggle Rock episodes for like four hours? Including a commentary track, because there are such delicate intricacies that you just don’t catch the first time around. It’s nice to know that the studios have figured out that by putting shows that I watched when I was nine on DVD they can basically have my paycheck forwarded to them.
Oh, and one last note from the trivia contest last night. One of the sponsors was a blog that focuses on the Kansas City bar scene. Yes, I apparently have competition here that I was completely unaware of. It was nice running through there little magazine and going “Drank there, drank there, I’m banned from that place…” But it does look like I’ll have to start commenting on their blog to a) share my expertise and b) do a little cross promotion for this edge of the internet.
That’s about it for a lazy, hazy Tuesday. Life can’t be all fun and adventure.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Drinking for fun and profit and fame
Trivia Update: Victorious once again! Yes, the team of the Kai Badgers (one half Cobra Kai one half, uh, Badgers) proved victorious in the pub quiz, thereby earning us entry into a $500 quiz at the KC Irish Fest. Yeah, my schedule is now booked with trivia contests occurring three months in the future. Still, five hundred bucks is enough money that I’ll start training for it. Expect me to spend some time in Rocky IV level isolation, running hills while reminding myself of where Three’s Company was located.
My big impressive answers today were knowing all of the Irish Nobel Laureates, knowing that Optimus Prime led the good Transformers and being able to name all of the characters on The Facts of Life. This resulted in the following conversation with a teammate of mine.
John: “Chris, you really need to get a girlfriend.”
EC: “I know but apparently knowing all of this shit isn’t considered an attractive quality.”
Good times and hey, when my winnings cover my bar tab it is considered a good night.
Ok, there was a news story from last week that I need to discuss. Maybe you guys saw it. In Utah they found that in a townhouse that was recently vacated that it was filled with crushed Coors Light cans. As in 700,000 cans. With the math being that this guy drank 24 cans a day, every day, for eight years. And this makes me feel very, very small.
See, I realize that there is someone better than me at basically every aspect of life. You have the seven year old who swam from Alcatraz today and I couldn’t do that. I’ll admit that there are some people who would be considered better looking than me. I’ve even confessed that there are a handful of people who I deem to be smarter than me (there aren’t many and after one very bad experience I’ve learned not to date them). But I thought that there was one thing that I was best at the world in. I figured that no one could touch me in terms of being a beer drinking, obsessive compulsive slob. Now I read this story and I find out that I wasn’t even in the ballpark. Man, talk about feeling insignificant.
But a case of Coors Light a day for eight years? The guy’s liver should be placed in the hall of fame. Wouldn’t you get sick of Coors Light after a while? Like, maybe three beers into it? What is your mindset when you go into the liquor store every week? Did he ever see the other cases and go, “You know, maybe I should try some of that Michelob Ultra stuff. Just for a change of pace.”
All of this makes me think of Ben Franklin’s famous quote, “Beer is God’s way of letting us know that he wants us to be happy.” And my corollary “And Zima is God’s way of letting us know that he is very, very disappointed in us.”
My big impressive answers today were knowing all of the Irish Nobel Laureates, knowing that Optimus Prime led the good Transformers and being able to name all of the characters on The Facts of Life. This resulted in the following conversation with a teammate of mine.
John: “Chris, you really need to get a girlfriend.”
EC: “I know but apparently knowing all of this shit isn’t considered an attractive quality.”
Good times and hey, when my winnings cover my bar tab it is considered a good night.
Ok, there was a news story from last week that I need to discuss. Maybe you guys saw it. In Utah they found that in a townhouse that was recently vacated that it was filled with crushed Coors Light cans. As in 700,000 cans. With the math being that this guy drank 24 cans a day, every day, for eight years. And this makes me feel very, very small.
See, I realize that there is someone better than me at basically every aspect of life. You have the seven year old who swam from Alcatraz today and I couldn’t do that. I’ll admit that there are some people who would be considered better looking than me. I’ve even confessed that there are a handful of people who I deem to be smarter than me (there aren’t many and after one very bad experience I’ve learned not to date them). But I thought that there was one thing that I was best at the world in. I figured that no one could touch me in terms of being a beer drinking, obsessive compulsive slob. Now I read this story and I find out that I wasn’t even in the ballpark. Man, talk about feeling insignificant.
But a case of Coors Light a day for eight years? The guy’s liver should be placed in the hall of fame. Wouldn’t you get sick of Coors Light after a while? Like, maybe three beers into it? What is your mindset when you go into the liquor store every week? Did he ever see the other cases and go, “You know, maybe I should try some of that Michelob Ultra stuff. Just for a change of pace.”
All of this makes me think of Ben Franklin’s famous quote, “Beer is God’s way of letting us know that he wants us to be happy.” And my corollary “And Zima is God’s way of letting us know that he is very, very disappointed in us.”
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Livin the high life
If you’re me, there isn’t a weekend that can go by without adventure. Or at least slightly comical stories about life in the slightly large city.
So I went to play trivia on Friday night and while it wasn’t one of my better nights I pulled off one of those moments that makes everyone wonder just how much I really know. My team was challenged in the category of Hot Pockets (nature’s most perfect food) and I was asked to name (within five) the number of different variations of Hot Pockets that are available. And I didn’t need to be within five because I got the number exactly. See, there is a benefit from being a single guy with absolutely no cooking ability. Hell, I could probably name all 26 varieties.
The other one is that the team sitting behind us were called the Slutatorians. First, that is a rather cool name. But even cooler is that everyone started challenging the team to answer questions so I got to yell, “We’re rioting the sluts” though another team topped me by going “We’ve got to riot the slut bags.” They were cool about it and the girls on the team were pretty cool over all. Yeah, of course I went over to talk to them, I just couldn’t bring myself to order a tray of red headed sluts to send to their table.
Went out in Westport last night and found out what I had feared was correct, that Heather, one of my absolute favorite bartenders, had finally moved to Chicago to start school. I knew this day was coming for months but I was basically in denial. You know how in all of those management books how they talk about how people do not adapt well to change in the office? Well, a bar basically is my office and changing staff causes much upheaval in my life. It takes months for me to learn names and train the staff (in an office it’s called managing up at the bar it’s called being a regular). Oh well, such are the challenges we face in life.
(By the way, Heather was a cool bartender mainly because she just didn’t really care and would just hang around and talk with whoever was at the bar. This created this odd symbiotic relationship between the two of us as I would provide her company and she would provide me alcohol. Often without me ever technically ordering it. In a way, Heather moving to Chicago might actually put a few years back on my life.)
Still, last night turned into a late night as I hung around with Cardinals fans and a few people I knew who happened to be at the bar. I was intending to make last call but I did which also meant that the page and a half list of to do items that I wrote out on Thursday still haven’t been completed. Looks like they’ll have to wait because I’m playing trivia again tomorrow night. At some point I’m just going to have to call it my second career and leave it at that.
The five random CDs for the week:
1) Jenny Orenstein “Astroturf”
2) The Handsome Family “Live at Schuba’s Tavern”
3) Tim Buckely “Tim Buckley and Goodbye and Hello”
4) Paul Simon “Graceland”
5) Various Artists “Por Vida: A Tribute to Alejandro Escovedo”
So I went to play trivia on Friday night and while it wasn’t one of my better nights I pulled off one of those moments that makes everyone wonder just how much I really know. My team was challenged in the category of Hot Pockets (nature’s most perfect food) and I was asked to name (within five) the number of different variations of Hot Pockets that are available. And I didn’t need to be within five because I got the number exactly. See, there is a benefit from being a single guy with absolutely no cooking ability. Hell, I could probably name all 26 varieties.
The other one is that the team sitting behind us were called the Slutatorians. First, that is a rather cool name. But even cooler is that everyone started challenging the team to answer questions so I got to yell, “We’re rioting the sluts” though another team topped me by going “We’ve got to riot the slut bags.” They were cool about it and the girls on the team were pretty cool over all. Yeah, of course I went over to talk to them, I just couldn’t bring myself to order a tray of red headed sluts to send to their table.
Went out in Westport last night and found out what I had feared was correct, that Heather, one of my absolute favorite bartenders, had finally moved to Chicago to start school. I knew this day was coming for months but I was basically in denial. You know how in all of those management books how they talk about how people do not adapt well to change in the office? Well, a bar basically is my office and changing staff causes much upheaval in my life. It takes months for me to learn names and train the staff (in an office it’s called managing up at the bar it’s called being a regular). Oh well, such are the challenges we face in life.
(By the way, Heather was a cool bartender mainly because she just didn’t really care and would just hang around and talk with whoever was at the bar. This created this odd symbiotic relationship between the two of us as I would provide her company and she would provide me alcohol. Often without me ever technically ordering it. In a way, Heather moving to Chicago might actually put a few years back on my life.)
Still, last night turned into a late night as I hung around with Cardinals fans and a few people I knew who happened to be at the bar. I was intending to make last call but I did which also meant that the page and a half list of to do items that I wrote out on Thursday still haven’t been completed. Looks like they’ll have to wait because I’m playing trivia again tomorrow night. At some point I’m just going to have to call it my second career and leave it at that.
The five random CDs for the week:
1) Jenny Orenstein “Astroturf”
2) The Handsome Family “Live at Schuba’s Tavern”
3) Tim Buckely “Tim Buckley and Goodbye and Hello”
4) Paul Simon “Graceland”
5) Various Artists “Por Vida: A Tribute to Alejandro Escovedo”
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Time for a TGIT
A couple of odds and ends to wrap up the week…
1) How I Met Your Mother season finale update: So the season ends with Ted and Robin getting together and Marshall and Lily calling off their engagement. That is a bit of a surprise but it shows that they are still trying to keep the show realistic, which is unheard of for a sitcom. In most sitcoms the characters suffer amnesia from week to week but on this show the characters are changing and evolving. Also, I appreciate that Ted at one point was reduced to just looking up at the sky and yelling at the universe for being unfair. I’ve done that a number of times, it’s just that in Ted’s case the universe went, “Oh yeah, you’re right, let me fix that” while for me the reply was, “Look when you show me a rule book then you can start talking about life being unfair.” Looking forward to next fall to see what happens next.
2) You know, what I love about MySpace is that I now check my email to find messages titled “Sexy Abby wants to be your friend.” Can’t say that I was getting messages like that every day before my profile went up (it was more like a once a week thing.) For those wondering, at some point I will actually put a picture of myself on MySpace but in all honesty, the best picture of myself is the one in the wrestling mask. So until then, my avatar will have to be a freaked out painting of Snoopy.
3) So, I finished reading Dan Brown’s “Angels and Demons” over the weekend. Look, I was in an airport and by federal law you are required to read a Dan Brown novel while in an airport. All I can say is that his writing style improved with The Da Vinci Code but that isn’t saying much. The guy writes characters worse than I do and at odd intervals we take four pages to discuss really esoteric conspiracy theories that would make a great college lecture but they don’t create good fiction. The best explanation I’ve heard about The Da Vinci Code is that it is a Scooby Doo episode for adults. That said, I had to stay up late just so I could finish the book.
4) For those wondering, it doesn’t look like I’ll hit my goal of fifty concerts this year without lowering my standards. This isn’t entirely my fault as two of the shows that I wanted to go are now cancelled, including one that Ticketmaster will refund less their processing fee of course. Ticketmaster, screwing over the customer because, well, what are you going to do about it? I mean, I could go catch REO Speedwagon at the Missouri State Fair later this year but I’d rather, well, let’s be honest. Seeing REO Speedwagon would probably be the highlight of my week.
5) Oh yeah, I know that I took another shot at Kansas last night. That one was less justified than most. Still, the point is I have no idea how my career path took me here. It’s like one moment I’m working in a nuclear power plant and the next moment I’m doing consumer product marketing and talking about the buying habits of baby boomers. All of the steps made sense to me at the time, I just don’t know how I got from there to here.
1) How I Met Your Mother season finale update: So the season ends with Ted and Robin getting together and Marshall and Lily calling off their engagement. That is a bit of a surprise but it shows that they are still trying to keep the show realistic, which is unheard of for a sitcom. In most sitcoms the characters suffer amnesia from week to week but on this show the characters are changing and evolving. Also, I appreciate that Ted at one point was reduced to just looking up at the sky and yelling at the universe for being unfair. I’ve done that a number of times, it’s just that in Ted’s case the universe went, “Oh yeah, you’re right, let me fix that” while for me the reply was, “Look when you show me a rule book then you can start talking about life being unfair.” Looking forward to next fall to see what happens next.
2) You know, what I love about MySpace is that I now check my email to find messages titled “Sexy Abby wants to be your friend.” Can’t say that I was getting messages like that every day before my profile went up (it was more like a once a week thing.) For those wondering, at some point I will actually put a picture of myself on MySpace but in all honesty, the best picture of myself is the one in the wrestling mask. So until then, my avatar will have to be a freaked out painting of Snoopy.
3) So, I finished reading Dan Brown’s “Angels and Demons” over the weekend. Look, I was in an airport and by federal law you are required to read a Dan Brown novel while in an airport. All I can say is that his writing style improved with The Da Vinci Code but that isn’t saying much. The guy writes characters worse than I do and at odd intervals we take four pages to discuss really esoteric conspiracy theories that would make a great college lecture but they don’t create good fiction. The best explanation I’ve heard about The Da Vinci Code is that it is a Scooby Doo episode for adults. That said, I had to stay up late just so I could finish the book.
4) For those wondering, it doesn’t look like I’ll hit my goal of fifty concerts this year without lowering my standards. This isn’t entirely my fault as two of the shows that I wanted to go are now cancelled, including one that Ticketmaster will refund less their processing fee of course. Ticketmaster, screwing over the customer because, well, what are you going to do about it? I mean, I could go catch REO Speedwagon at the Missouri State Fair later this year but I’d rather, well, let’s be honest. Seeing REO Speedwagon would probably be the highlight of my week.
5) Oh yeah, I know that I took another shot at Kansas last night. That one was less justified than most. Still, the point is I have no idea how my career path took me here. It’s like one moment I’m working in a nuclear power plant and the next moment I’m doing consumer product marketing and talking about the buying habits of baby boomers. All of the steps made sense to me at the time, I just don’t know how I got from there to here.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Prom fallout
Ok, there are two other parts to the prom story that I wasn’t able to fit into yesterday’s epic. One was cut for space and the other was actually my original ending but I figured that I will need more than a paragraph for it and it changed the entire tone of the piece. Anyway, here are the two points.
The first is that the reason I titled the post “Still the Night” is because that was the actual prom theme. It’s been fifteen years and I still don’t have a freaking clue what that means. It’s not over yet? The sun hasn’t risen? People explained it to me but like much of my high school experience, the reference went over my head. Tying into this is that my prom song was by The Bodeans. The one that goes, “If I could hold you tonight, I would never let go…” We had to have been the only school out of the Milwaukee area to decide that a Bodeans song would be a fitting sonic backdrop to that pivotal moment of your teenage years. Again, while a lot of music in the early nineties rocked, there was also, well, the Bodeans.
The second point is a lot more important. While I was writing this piece I had a thought running through my head and I need to discuss it here. For the past five years Erik has been giving me the following piece of advice and to his eternal dismay I never listen. Which is that “The future is a horrible place to put your better days.” And no matter how many times he tells me that I never fully realize that is what I have done my entire life.
Because when you read the prom story it is one of a guy who comes out of his shell right as it is time to go. And if you think about where I was three years ago I, well, came out of my shell right before it was time to say goodbye to everyone. There are a lot of reasons behind it. One is that I spend a lot of energy wondering about the impression people have of me and I do everything to make sure that it is perfect until I reach the point where I decide that in a few weeks I’ll never see them again and be me for a change. But it’s also that I am always focused on setting up my life for that next step and I never stop to be in the moment and just relax like everyone else does. A lot of people reading this have looked at me while were at the Backer and realized that I was still working finance problems in my head. Didn’t matter that it was two in the morning, I knew that if I wanted my career to be smooth sailing upon graduation I had to figure out the answer. So in high school I set the path to college, in college I set the path to engineering, in my first job I set the path to b-school, b-school set the path to a new career and the new career took me to Kansas.
(Remind that next time I plan out my life to use a map.)
I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I need to find a way to live in the moment without having to be in a state of constantly leaving. Or to just find out how to make myself not care what the world around me thinks. If there is a struggle in my life that I am trying to overcome right now, this is it.
The first is that the reason I titled the post “Still the Night” is because that was the actual prom theme. It’s been fifteen years and I still don’t have a freaking clue what that means. It’s not over yet? The sun hasn’t risen? People explained it to me but like much of my high school experience, the reference went over my head. Tying into this is that my prom song was by The Bodeans. The one that goes, “If I could hold you tonight, I would never let go…” We had to have been the only school out of the Milwaukee area to decide that a Bodeans song would be a fitting sonic backdrop to that pivotal moment of your teenage years. Again, while a lot of music in the early nineties rocked, there was also, well, the Bodeans.
The second point is a lot more important. While I was writing this piece I had a thought running through my head and I need to discuss it here. For the past five years Erik has been giving me the following piece of advice and to his eternal dismay I never listen. Which is that “The future is a horrible place to put your better days.” And no matter how many times he tells me that I never fully realize that is what I have done my entire life.
Because when you read the prom story it is one of a guy who comes out of his shell right as it is time to go. And if you think about where I was three years ago I, well, came out of my shell right before it was time to say goodbye to everyone. There are a lot of reasons behind it. One is that I spend a lot of energy wondering about the impression people have of me and I do everything to make sure that it is perfect until I reach the point where I decide that in a few weeks I’ll never see them again and be me for a change. But it’s also that I am always focused on setting up my life for that next step and I never stop to be in the moment and just relax like everyone else does. A lot of people reading this have looked at me while were at the Backer and realized that I was still working finance problems in my head. Didn’t matter that it was two in the morning, I knew that if I wanted my career to be smooth sailing upon graduation I had to figure out the answer. So in high school I set the path to college, in college I set the path to engineering, in my first job I set the path to b-school, b-school set the path to a new career and the new career took me to Kansas.
(Remind that next time I plan out my life to use a map.)
I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I need to find a way to live in the moment without having to be in a state of constantly leaving. Or to just find out how to make myself not care what the world around me thinks. If there is a struggle in my life that I am trying to overcome right now, this is it.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Still the Night
Over the past few days multiple people have requested that I finish my prom story. Ok, it was two people but that technically counts as a multiple. So sit back and relax, since this story is going to take awhile. Oh, and everything is this story actually is true.
There are a few things that I have learned in life. Like if you are going to play the slot machines you might as well just set your wallet on fire, the enjoyment level is pretty much the same. And that no matter how much you would like it to be true, your life will never resemble that of a character out of a romantic comedy. But every once in awhile, especially when I am about to graduate, it comes surprisingly close.
Turn the wayback machine fifteen years to spring of 1991. It was a simpler time when Jim Carrey was known as the dude who played Fire Marshal Bill on In Living Color. When kids on skateboards were still called punks and menaces to society as opposed to entrepreneurial extreme athletes. And when your chart topping hits for this week included the Divinyls “I Touch Myself”, Extreme’s “More than Words” and Color Me Badd’s “I Wanna Sex You Up.”
(Again, I can never bring myself to admit that the music of my youth was the best ever.)
If you focused the wayback machine on the near suburbs of Chicago you would find a Young EC finishing off high school. As I said before, I wasn’t popular but I was really well known and liked. And as we got closer and closer to the end of high school I was becoming more and more outspoken, writing little comedy sketches about life and sharing them with people (I so wish that the net existed back then, my life would have been so different) and spending my weekend talking to a cute blonde haired girl in Minnesota who I thought the world of. And when the idea of who to ask to the prom came up I thought about her and…
Life isn’t a romantic comedy and seventeen year olds have a heck of a time affording plane tickets. In some parallel life that is the direction this story takes.
Instead, we find Young EC sitting in study hall during the last period of the day. As a senior Young EC has pretty free reign of the place and spends study hall sitting in the back of the library, which since this is a catholic school is actually a converted chapel. I’d typically be found in the back reading the latest issue of Rolling Stone because, well, that was basically the edgiest material that you could find in a converted chapel. So I was sitting there one day talking with a few people when Mr. Riberdy, my English teacher/mentor showed up. I’ve written about him before, if I had to list the five people who most influenced who I am he makes the list without a doubt. He was the first person who grabbed me and said, “You have so much to offer people, speak up and show them who you are.”
The discussion turned to prom and Riberdy went, “Hey Bart, do you have a date yet?” (Side note: my nickname in high school was Bart, which predated Bart Simpson by two years. I won’t even start to explain it.) I answered no and we started listing who was available and the name Kathy Robinson came up. And I said, “Yeah, I was thinking about asking her.” And then Riberdy’s eyes lit up.
“What class is she in right now?”
“Spanish, why?”
“Get up Bart, were doing this now.”
“What…” at which point he grabs me by the collar and starts dragging me toward the door. We go down a flight of stairs (with my friend Mike following behind as a rear guard). He walks to the classroom, I’m in the hallway, and Mike decides to go to the water fountain to have a drink.
(Riberdy sticks his head in the doorway) “Hi, can I speak to Kathy for a minute.”
“Uh sure”
(She walks out and Riberdy points her in my direction)
“Hi Chris”
“Hi Kathy, uh I know this is weird but would you like to go to prom with me?”
“Uh sure.”
I really wish I remembered the whole conversation because all I know is that she had this look of stunned disbelief on her face. It definitely wasn’t what she expected when she walked into class that afternoon. What I do remember is Mike nearly drowning because he literally spent five minutes acting like he was taking a drink at the water fountain in order to hear everything.
(Time for another side note: It might not read that way, but I really did like Kathy. She was extremely smart and nice and cute in a way that I got and not too many other people did. If I hadn’t been as shy as I was, I would have gotten to know her much better before this moment in the story.)
The weeks to prom move by at a blistering pace. I end up meeting up with the cute blonde haired girl from Minnesota at the Museum of Science and Industry while she is in town on a class trip. Had a great time with her and later she told me that I had a puzzling expression on my face as we said goodbye. The truth was (and still is) that I saw one path that I could travel in life, one that possibly could have resulted in my being happier than I would ever have a right being, walk away and I didn’t know how to stop it. I’m not sure if you are supposed to realize at seventeen that life is never going to make any sense. Or that those moments will happen over and over again.
Anyway, Riberdy lets me know that he is chaperoning the prom and to be ready because he has one more surprise left in store for me. Kathy and I do the usual prom coordination things (what color is your dress, whose table are we going to sit at, what are we doing afterwards). You know, all of those things that take on monumental proportions when you are seventeen but now seem like the most trivial aspects of life. But the big day arrives and Young EC, after avoiding every school dance up until now, is actually going to prom.
I know that we met up at someone’s house so that the parents could take pictures. I remember that I almost forgot Kathy’s corsage and that she did actually forget mine, which caused people to go out into the back garden and build me a boutonniere. I know that I looked damn good in a tux and that Kathy was as cool and effortless as always. And I was relatively pleased that I was getting high fives for showing up.
The night goes on and we have a great time and we get to the point that they are announcing the prom court. People start being named and things are fun and low key and then they announce “The next couple is Chris (insert my last name here) and Erin Ryan”. And then a huge cheer goes up as I look over at Riberdy and he gives me the thumbs up sign. See, Riberdy taught English for the juniors and he instructed them to vote for me and since I knew them as well and they also thought I was a pretty cool, if shy, kid they worked to stuff the ballot box in my favor. Oh, and I had had a crush on Erin since freshman year. It was rather surreal as Erin and I couldn’t stop laughing and I just wondered why I waited this long to come out of my shell.
It’s a nice movie plot, isn’t it? The shy kid who is liked but isn’t popular has a teacher take him under his wing, gets him a date for prom and he is named prom king with his freshman year crush as queen? Well, I wasn’t named prom king. And life isn’t a movie.
Because in the end Erin and I had a few laughs and that was it. And I hung out with Kathy a little over the summer but we fell out of touch pretty quickly. The last time I saw her was when I randomly ran into her on the Illinois quad when she was on campus for a conference and we talked for five minutes and that was it. And I lost touch with the blonde haired girl from Minnesota, miraculously got back in touch with her several years later, made one grand gesture and then lost touch again and realized that she will now only be remembered as the dedication line in my first novel (because I keep my promises). So I missed out on the big romantic ending. But for one moment, my life was worthy of the big screen and not too many people get to experience that and I’ve had it happen twice. But the second one is a story for another day.
There are a few things that I have learned in life. Like if you are going to play the slot machines you might as well just set your wallet on fire, the enjoyment level is pretty much the same. And that no matter how much you would like it to be true, your life will never resemble that of a character out of a romantic comedy. But every once in awhile, especially when I am about to graduate, it comes surprisingly close.
Turn the wayback machine fifteen years to spring of 1991. It was a simpler time when Jim Carrey was known as the dude who played Fire Marshal Bill on In Living Color. When kids on skateboards were still called punks and menaces to society as opposed to entrepreneurial extreme athletes. And when your chart topping hits for this week included the Divinyls “I Touch Myself”, Extreme’s “More than Words” and Color Me Badd’s “I Wanna Sex You Up.”
(Again, I can never bring myself to admit that the music of my youth was the best ever.)
If you focused the wayback machine on the near suburbs of Chicago you would find a Young EC finishing off high school. As I said before, I wasn’t popular but I was really well known and liked. And as we got closer and closer to the end of high school I was becoming more and more outspoken, writing little comedy sketches about life and sharing them with people (I so wish that the net existed back then, my life would have been so different) and spending my weekend talking to a cute blonde haired girl in Minnesota who I thought the world of. And when the idea of who to ask to the prom came up I thought about her and…
Life isn’t a romantic comedy and seventeen year olds have a heck of a time affording plane tickets. In some parallel life that is the direction this story takes.
Instead, we find Young EC sitting in study hall during the last period of the day. As a senior Young EC has pretty free reign of the place and spends study hall sitting in the back of the library, which since this is a catholic school is actually a converted chapel. I’d typically be found in the back reading the latest issue of Rolling Stone because, well, that was basically the edgiest material that you could find in a converted chapel. So I was sitting there one day talking with a few people when Mr. Riberdy, my English teacher/mentor showed up. I’ve written about him before, if I had to list the five people who most influenced who I am he makes the list without a doubt. He was the first person who grabbed me and said, “You have so much to offer people, speak up and show them who you are.”
The discussion turned to prom and Riberdy went, “Hey Bart, do you have a date yet?” (Side note: my nickname in high school was Bart, which predated Bart Simpson by two years. I won’t even start to explain it.) I answered no and we started listing who was available and the name Kathy Robinson came up. And I said, “Yeah, I was thinking about asking her.” And then Riberdy’s eyes lit up.
“What class is she in right now?”
“Spanish, why?”
“Get up Bart, were doing this now.”
“What…” at which point he grabs me by the collar and starts dragging me toward the door. We go down a flight of stairs (with my friend Mike following behind as a rear guard). He walks to the classroom, I’m in the hallway, and Mike decides to go to the water fountain to have a drink.
(Riberdy sticks his head in the doorway) “Hi, can I speak to Kathy for a minute.”
“Uh sure”
(She walks out and Riberdy points her in my direction)
“Hi Chris”
“Hi Kathy, uh I know this is weird but would you like to go to prom with me?”
“Uh sure.”
I really wish I remembered the whole conversation because all I know is that she had this look of stunned disbelief on her face. It definitely wasn’t what she expected when she walked into class that afternoon. What I do remember is Mike nearly drowning because he literally spent five minutes acting like he was taking a drink at the water fountain in order to hear everything.
(Time for another side note: It might not read that way, but I really did like Kathy. She was extremely smart and nice and cute in a way that I got and not too many other people did. If I hadn’t been as shy as I was, I would have gotten to know her much better before this moment in the story.)
The weeks to prom move by at a blistering pace. I end up meeting up with the cute blonde haired girl from Minnesota at the Museum of Science and Industry while she is in town on a class trip. Had a great time with her and later she told me that I had a puzzling expression on my face as we said goodbye. The truth was (and still is) that I saw one path that I could travel in life, one that possibly could have resulted in my being happier than I would ever have a right being, walk away and I didn’t know how to stop it. I’m not sure if you are supposed to realize at seventeen that life is never going to make any sense. Or that those moments will happen over and over again.
Anyway, Riberdy lets me know that he is chaperoning the prom and to be ready because he has one more surprise left in store for me. Kathy and I do the usual prom coordination things (what color is your dress, whose table are we going to sit at, what are we doing afterwards). You know, all of those things that take on monumental proportions when you are seventeen but now seem like the most trivial aspects of life. But the big day arrives and Young EC, after avoiding every school dance up until now, is actually going to prom.
I know that we met up at someone’s house so that the parents could take pictures. I remember that I almost forgot Kathy’s corsage and that she did actually forget mine, which caused people to go out into the back garden and build me a boutonniere. I know that I looked damn good in a tux and that Kathy was as cool and effortless as always. And I was relatively pleased that I was getting high fives for showing up.
The night goes on and we have a great time and we get to the point that they are announcing the prom court. People start being named and things are fun and low key and then they announce “The next couple is Chris (insert my last name here) and Erin Ryan”. And then a huge cheer goes up as I look over at Riberdy and he gives me the thumbs up sign. See, Riberdy taught English for the juniors and he instructed them to vote for me and since I knew them as well and they also thought I was a pretty cool, if shy, kid they worked to stuff the ballot box in my favor. Oh, and I had had a crush on Erin since freshman year. It was rather surreal as Erin and I couldn’t stop laughing and I just wondered why I waited this long to come out of my shell.
It’s a nice movie plot, isn’t it? The shy kid who is liked but isn’t popular has a teacher take him under his wing, gets him a date for prom and he is named prom king with his freshman year crush as queen? Well, I wasn’t named prom king. And life isn’t a movie.
Because in the end Erin and I had a few laughs and that was it. And I hung out with Kathy a little over the summer but we fell out of touch pretty quickly. The last time I saw her was when I randomly ran into her on the Illinois quad when she was on campus for a conference and we talked for five minutes and that was it. And I lost touch with the blonde haired girl from Minnesota, miraculously got back in touch with her several years later, made one grand gesture and then lost touch again and realized that she will now only be remembered as the dedication line in my first novel (because I keep my promises). So I missed out on the big romantic ending. But for one moment, my life was worthy of the big screen and not too many people get to experience that and I’ve had it happen twice. But the second one is a story for another day.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Gonna Get Myself Arrested...
Ok, I just got back from seeing Gomez in concert so if this reads like my ears are ringing like mad that is the reason. You’ve got to love Gomez, a bunch of guys from England who in no way look like they should be a rock band. One guy looks like he works down at the video store, another guy looks like an accountant and their bounce around the stage energy guy looks like Harry Potter if Harry decided to say, “Screw Voldermort, I’m just going to sit back, drink a bunch of lager, and play keyboards in a rock band.” Which when you think about it, would be a better plot than The Order of the Phoenix.
(Oh, and the opening act was this guy named David Ford who was doing some Damien Rice level sampling and it worked really well. Not as well as the footage of Damien singing Volcano at Bonnaroo a few years back, which was just astounding. I’m telling you, when Damien Rice gets rolling it is incredible especially when he works with his four piece band that consists of a) him on guitar, b) Vyvienne Long on cello, c) a dude playing bass and d) Lisa Hannigan alternately singing backup vocals and sitting on the floor, rocking mesmerizingly back and forth.)
(I don’t think that mesmerizingly is actually a word but it damn well should be.)
Random story from today: While in a class I was asked to describe a time when I was given rather difficult feedback that I accepted without any criticism or qualms from myself. I gave a very good answer from my personal life. I just failed to mention that the conversation took place next to the trivia machine at the Backer. Like I’ve always said, every story I tell is 75% truth and 25% fiction.
Oh, and I would like to thank President Bush for deciding that he needed to address the immigration crisis during sweeps month. Hence, I can’t write about the season finale of How I Met Your Mother because the show was delayed by twenty minutes and I had to take off for the concert right when it started. So I’ll be watching the tape as soon as I finish posting this. On the whole immigration issue here’s where I stand. Figure out a way to speed up legal immigration and make it easier. I can’t fault anyone for coming to this country in search of a dream. My grandparents entered Ellis Island with twenty bucks, no working knowledge of English and addresses of relatives in Chicago. Two generations later here I am. Fix the borders and fix the system but if you kill the dream you will hamstring the country.
Sorry, got to cut it short tonight. I promise, I’m telling my prom story tomorrow. I can’t believe that it’s been fifteen years already.
(Oh, and the opening act was this guy named David Ford who was doing some Damien Rice level sampling and it worked really well. Not as well as the footage of Damien singing Volcano at Bonnaroo a few years back, which was just astounding. I’m telling you, when Damien Rice gets rolling it is incredible especially when he works with his four piece band that consists of a) him on guitar, b) Vyvienne Long on cello, c) a dude playing bass and d) Lisa Hannigan alternately singing backup vocals and sitting on the floor, rocking mesmerizingly back and forth.)
(I don’t think that mesmerizingly is actually a word but it damn well should be.)
Random story from today: While in a class I was asked to describe a time when I was given rather difficult feedback that I accepted without any criticism or qualms from myself. I gave a very good answer from my personal life. I just failed to mention that the conversation took place next to the trivia machine at the Backer. Like I’ve always said, every story I tell is 75% truth and 25% fiction.
Oh, and I would like to thank President Bush for deciding that he needed to address the immigration crisis during sweeps month. Hence, I can’t write about the season finale of How I Met Your Mother because the show was delayed by twenty minutes and I had to take off for the concert right when it started. So I’ll be watching the tape as soon as I finish posting this. On the whole immigration issue here’s where I stand. Figure out a way to speed up legal immigration and make it easier. I can’t fault anyone for coming to this country in search of a dream. My grandparents entered Ellis Island with twenty bucks, no working knowledge of English and addresses of relatives in Chicago. Two generations later here I am. Fix the borders and fix the system but if you kill the dream you will hamstring the country.
Sorry, got to cut it short tonight. I promise, I’m telling my prom story tomorrow. I can’t believe that it’s been fifteen years already.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Weekend update
First things first, the MySpace page is up and running. The page itself is at www.myspace.com/kcgatsby or you can just search for kcgatsby@aol.com. Yes, this truly is a brand extension as I attempt to make kcgatsby synonymous with cutting edge commentary and just overall awesomeness. Ok, so I still have a little work to do there. Thanks to Super Dave for posting the first comment. I think that he also posted the first comment to the blog and if I get that radio talk show host gig that I interviewed for, he’ll probably be the first caller. But at least the page does show that I have friends. Well, except for that Tom guy, who is a total douchebag.
(Man, I miss grade school insults. You never get to call someone a douchebag at the office, even though it is probably more appropriate there than in algebra class.)
Went home to Chicago for the weekend to be with the family on Mother’s Day and various birthdays. I am in one of those families where everyone is seemingly born within three weeks of each other, except for me who for years was the lone September birthday. This means that most of my luggage was filled with presents and the security people at KCI must really wonder why a guy has Barbie dolls in his backpack. But I did get to watch my niece play soccer and score two goals, thereby topping my athletic highlights and she’s only seven.
However, watching seven year olds play soccer is rather interesting. First, it has to be challenging to play goalie when the goalie jersey is longer than you are. Also, the concept of positions are rather vague as you have a few people who hang out in the back for defense and the rest in one big blob towards the ball. On top of that apparently they haven’t taught the kids offsides yet so you have the occasional cherry pick goal.
Yes, I was complaining about offsides at a soccer game being played by seven year olds. If you want to know the type of father that I am going to turn into that is probably a really good indicator. I’ll be the guy heckling the fifteen year old referee and being banned from games for taunting a nine year old. Man, I look forward to that.
(Oh one last MySpace comment. It took less than a day for me to get my first spam email through the site. I assume it is spam. It’s possible that some woman sent me an incredibly detailed email declaring herself to be my soulmate and asking if I could help her get to the states based solely on the initials EC and my listing of bands that I like. I just find that to be highly unlikely. But hey, still beats a few months ago when I had the bots posting on this site.)
The five random CDs of the week
1) The Flying Burrito Brothers “Farther Along: The Best of The Flying Burrito Brothers”
2) The Get Up Kids “Live at the Granada Theater”
3) Loreena McKennitt “The Book of Secrets”
4) Uncle Tupelo “March 16-20, 1992”
5) Ryan Adams “Rock and Roll”
(Man, I miss grade school insults. You never get to call someone a douchebag at the office, even though it is probably more appropriate there than in algebra class.)
Went home to Chicago for the weekend to be with the family on Mother’s Day and various birthdays. I am in one of those families where everyone is seemingly born within three weeks of each other, except for me who for years was the lone September birthday. This means that most of my luggage was filled with presents and the security people at KCI must really wonder why a guy has Barbie dolls in his backpack. But I did get to watch my niece play soccer and score two goals, thereby topping my athletic highlights and she’s only seven.
However, watching seven year olds play soccer is rather interesting. First, it has to be challenging to play goalie when the goalie jersey is longer than you are. Also, the concept of positions are rather vague as you have a few people who hang out in the back for defense and the rest in one big blob towards the ball. On top of that apparently they haven’t taught the kids offsides yet so you have the occasional cherry pick goal.
Yes, I was complaining about offsides at a soccer game being played by seven year olds. If you want to know the type of father that I am going to turn into that is probably a really good indicator. I’ll be the guy heckling the fifteen year old referee and being banned from games for taunting a nine year old. Man, I look forward to that.
(Oh one last MySpace comment. It took less than a day for me to get my first spam email through the site. I assume it is spam. It’s possible that some woman sent me an incredibly detailed email declaring herself to be my soulmate and asking if I could help her get to the states based solely on the initials EC and my listing of bands that I like. I just find that to be highly unlikely. But hey, still beats a few months ago when I had the bots posting on this site.)
The five random CDs of the week
1) The Flying Burrito Brothers “Farther Along: The Best of The Flying Burrito Brothers”
2) The Get Up Kids “Live at the Granada Theater”
3) Loreena McKennitt “The Book of Secrets”
4) Uncle Tupelo “March 16-20, 1992”
5) Ryan Adams “Rock and Roll”
Friday, May 12, 2006
Hitting 400
Explanation # 1: EC takes a break from celebrating his victory in obtaining one half of the world tag team championship.
Explanation # 2: EC, somewhere in the middle of Mexico, relaxes at the wedding of one of the coolest guys he knows.
Incredibly, one of those two explanations is actually true.
Ok, so there is no need to show that picture (other than it is awesome) except that tonight is a night of celebration because this is my 400th post to the blog. The fact that I’ve written 400 posts is somewhat impressive. I’m proud of what I’ve done here but it isn’t the biggest accomplishment of all. No, that goes to a few people out there who have actually read every single one of those 400 posts and have commented on probably half of those. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m eternally grateful to those who take the time to read what I have to say about the world. It’s what makes me look forward to sitting down at the laptop every night.
And since this is a milestone and worth a celebration I think it is time to spread some more of the wealth. So, I want to put the following options out there. First, I could release Battling the Current: Volume 2, another collection of songs that would make up the soundtrack to the best Cameron Crowe movie ever. Or, I could try to call in a favor with my friends at www.starzantees.com and finally produce the Battling the Current t-shirts. Or, I could figure out a way to buy a shot for all of my readers simultaneously. I am open for suggestions but I want to do something here.
All I can say is that I am consistently amazed by the amount of things that I have written on this blog over the past year and a half. There is a lot of stuff that I am proud to have written and that I am happy found a home other than a Word file on my laptop. Sure, not all of it has been stellar and other parts have been trivial but there are moments here and there where I truly felt like a writer. And it’s taken a long time for me to even imagine that that feeling could be a possibility. So expect to see this thing continuing for the foreseeable future.
Oh, and the MySpace page? The URL is reserved, the profile is being completed, and the next step in the Battling the Current brand extension will be unveiled on Sunday. Have a great weekend.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Dr. Wang: The Man, The Myth, The Legend
Lots of things to cover tonight and once again, I have no idea how to connect all of the dots but here it goes…
1) Just need to state that while playing NTN trivia at a bar this evening I ranked 36th in the country in movie trivia. Yes, so close to making the top 20 and seeing my name broadcast to all of the bars in the nation. Or, more accurately, making the world aware of the absolute dominance of Dr. Wang. Try as you might, it is impossible to beat the Wang.
2) (I’m sorry, but there is still something incredibly funny about seeing Dr. Wang flashing on a screen for the entire bar to see. It’s childish and immature but it is still better than EC Cool.)
3) I am really tempted about trying the continual dress up social experiment. Part of me feels that work needs that sense of excitement and improvisation that this would entail. Also, I think that this would be the only time I would get to show up for work in a powder blue tuxedo and I’m at the point where that seems like a really good idea. Most people think of me as one those fast track executive types. If they’d actually read the blog they’d realize, “Yeah, not so much.”
4) While wandering through Best Buy this week I saw one of the most frightening sights ever. You can now get the best of America’s Funniest Home Videos on DVD. And you know what? I bet that it sells at a pretty good clip. I just don’t want to know the type of people who buy it. I mean, it was one of those shows that had good ratings despite the fact that no one would ever admit to watching it, it consisted mainly of guys getting hit in the groin, and featured Bob Saget. I for one see that and immediately think three DVD set. What is the commentary track on that like? “Watch this. He totally takes the football to the nuts.”
5) That said, I saw two DVD collections that are on my must own list. The first is Emergency, which was a show that Channel 32 in Chicago showed all the time while growing up. It was a precursor to the ER’s of the world but mainly it was awesome for a nine year old to watch guys ride on fire trucks for an hour. Seriously, this is one of my memories from growing up. You’d watch the show and they’d be at the fire station and the alarm would go off and you’d always hope for a lot of alarms because that meant that something really cool had happened and they’d have to bring out a whole bunch of fire trucks. In my youth, this was deemed entertainment.
6) Oh and the other show is She Spies, finally released on DVD. You didn’t watch the show? You obviously weren’t coming back from bars at two or three in the morning in 2003. It was a syndicated show that was much too well written for its own good and, well, watching Natasha Henstridge after you’ve stumbled back from a bar is a very good thing. Now I figure I can watch the show and find out just what the hell was actually going on.
7) Hey, saw that Brittney officially announced that she is pregnant again. News that I broke here two weeks ago. Remind me to tip my sources. If you ever need gossip on a starlet let me know cause my peeps can dig up anything.
8) Special announcement coming tomorrow. Probably several of them. Just another reason to stay tuned.
1) Just need to state that while playing NTN trivia at a bar this evening I ranked 36th in the country in movie trivia. Yes, so close to making the top 20 and seeing my name broadcast to all of the bars in the nation. Or, more accurately, making the world aware of the absolute dominance of Dr. Wang. Try as you might, it is impossible to beat the Wang.
2) (I’m sorry, but there is still something incredibly funny about seeing Dr. Wang flashing on a screen for the entire bar to see. It’s childish and immature but it is still better than EC Cool.)
3) I am really tempted about trying the continual dress up social experiment. Part of me feels that work needs that sense of excitement and improvisation that this would entail. Also, I think that this would be the only time I would get to show up for work in a powder blue tuxedo and I’m at the point where that seems like a really good idea. Most people think of me as one those fast track executive types. If they’d actually read the blog they’d realize, “Yeah, not so much.”
4) While wandering through Best Buy this week I saw one of the most frightening sights ever. You can now get the best of America’s Funniest Home Videos on DVD. And you know what? I bet that it sells at a pretty good clip. I just don’t want to know the type of people who buy it. I mean, it was one of those shows that had good ratings despite the fact that no one would ever admit to watching it, it consisted mainly of guys getting hit in the groin, and featured Bob Saget. I for one see that and immediately think three DVD set. What is the commentary track on that like? “Watch this. He totally takes the football to the nuts.”
5) That said, I saw two DVD collections that are on my must own list. The first is Emergency, which was a show that Channel 32 in Chicago showed all the time while growing up. It was a precursor to the ER’s of the world but mainly it was awesome for a nine year old to watch guys ride on fire trucks for an hour. Seriously, this is one of my memories from growing up. You’d watch the show and they’d be at the fire station and the alarm would go off and you’d always hope for a lot of alarms because that meant that something really cool had happened and they’d have to bring out a whole bunch of fire trucks. In my youth, this was deemed entertainment.
6) Oh and the other show is She Spies, finally released on DVD. You didn’t watch the show? You obviously weren’t coming back from bars at two or three in the morning in 2003. It was a syndicated show that was much too well written for its own good and, well, watching Natasha Henstridge after you’ve stumbled back from a bar is a very good thing. Now I figure I can watch the show and find out just what the hell was actually going on.
7) Hey, saw that Brittney officially announced that she is pregnant again. News that I broke here two weeks ago. Remind me to tip my sources. If you ever need gossip on a starlet let me know cause my peeps can dig up anything.
8) Special announcement coming tomorrow. Probably several of them. Just another reason to stay tuned.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
The rest of the story...
Ok, I’ll admit, that is a fair cop. Starting a story with “so this drunk chick ended up on my lap asking me if I was married” and not explaining what happened next is a little weak. But as will soon be made abundantly clear, I had a reason to be vague.
(For the record, my reply was “Not that I recall”, which is a) clever and b) accurate given that there are a few hours on Bourbon Street that I still can’t account for.)
But if I have learned anything it is that being clever is not a very useful strategy with someone who is so drunk that she basically can not stand on her own. All that happened next was that we talked for a minute or two and then she was off with the other people that she came in with. If I had my A game on something interesting would have happened. If I brought my B game, at least something would have happened. Last Friday I think I was bringing my V game, which is when I open my mouth and I am embarrassed by what I am saying while I am actually saying it. Like I get halfway through the sentence and just say, “Wow, this isn’t working at all, is it?”
(Erik, feel free to punch me right now for this. And the story that follows.)
She wasn’t the only drunk girl who decided to talk to the guy at the end of the bar. Had another conversation with a loud drunk girl, who was wondering why I was so tense and stiff. That is a very good question because even though I was at a bar at two in the morning (having gone to my first bar at three that afternoon, don’t even bother asking) I just could not let myself go. I’m not sure why that is but I just haven’t been having fun when I go out. I head out to the bar and I think about work and my future and then wonder why I keep on waking up at four in the morning every night for the past month. I just haven’t been able to let everything go for a few moments and instead when I’m at the bar I feel like I’m just going to work again. I need a mindset change rather quickly.
Oh, she did ask me one of my favorite questions, “Who are you here with?” My answer is always, “Me” and that freaks people out. No one quite understands that I believe that just because I might not always have a crowd of people with me doesn’t mean that I should just lock myself in my apartment and live my life by interacting with the digital representations of people. It’s better with a crowd, definitely, but barring one I’ll still live life on my own terms.
How I Met Your Mother Update Part 5: It dawned on me this evening that Barney has somehow obtained a job that gives him a window office in Manhattan with an assistant while I work in a box somewhere in a converted cornfield in Kansas. This tells me one thing, I really need to wear suits more often. I’m wondering what would happen if I just started wearing a suit and tie to the office everyday. First of all, it would probably take a week for anyone to notice but I wonder what would happen. I’m really thinking of trying it and then continually upping the ante. Like start off by just wearing a tie and then bring on the suit coat and just keep on going until I’m showing up to work wearing top hat and tails. Including white gloves and a cane. I just think this would be stellar.
(For the record, my reply was “Not that I recall”, which is a) clever and b) accurate given that there are a few hours on Bourbon Street that I still can’t account for.)
But if I have learned anything it is that being clever is not a very useful strategy with someone who is so drunk that she basically can not stand on her own. All that happened next was that we talked for a minute or two and then she was off with the other people that she came in with. If I had my A game on something interesting would have happened. If I brought my B game, at least something would have happened. Last Friday I think I was bringing my V game, which is when I open my mouth and I am embarrassed by what I am saying while I am actually saying it. Like I get halfway through the sentence and just say, “Wow, this isn’t working at all, is it?”
(Erik, feel free to punch me right now for this. And the story that follows.)
She wasn’t the only drunk girl who decided to talk to the guy at the end of the bar. Had another conversation with a loud drunk girl, who was wondering why I was so tense and stiff. That is a very good question because even though I was at a bar at two in the morning (having gone to my first bar at three that afternoon, don’t even bother asking) I just could not let myself go. I’m not sure why that is but I just haven’t been having fun when I go out. I head out to the bar and I think about work and my future and then wonder why I keep on waking up at four in the morning every night for the past month. I just haven’t been able to let everything go for a few moments and instead when I’m at the bar I feel like I’m just going to work again. I need a mindset change rather quickly.
Oh, she did ask me one of my favorite questions, “Who are you here with?” My answer is always, “Me” and that freaks people out. No one quite understands that I believe that just because I might not always have a crowd of people with me doesn’t mean that I should just lock myself in my apartment and live my life by interacting with the digital representations of people. It’s better with a crowd, definitely, but barring one I’ll still live life on my own terms.
How I Met Your Mother Update Part 5: It dawned on me this evening that Barney has somehow obtained a job that gives him a window office in Manhattan with an assistant while I work in a box somewhere in a converted cornfield in Kansas. This tells me one thing, I really need to wear suits more often. I’m wondering what would happen if I just started wearing a suit and tie to the office everyday. First of all, it would probably take a week for anyone to notice but I wonder what would happen. I’m really thinking of trying it and then continually upping the ante. Like start off by just wearing a tie and then bring on the suit coat and just keep on going until I’m showing up to work wearing top hat and tails. Including white gloves and a cane. I just think this would be stellar.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Swimming to oblivion
When in doubt, count it out…
1) Ok, I’m pretty sure that there are some ND alums from the undergraduate side who read this blog and I need their confirmation of a CNN story. Does Notre Dame still have you pass a swimming test in order to graduate from college? That is what the story said and I couldn’t remember if it was true or not. It’s thankfully not true for graduate school, or I’d be the first A student to fail to get a degree because he has the floatation characteristics of a large piece of concrete. I’ve always heard about these sorts of things but I never had to go through them at Illinois. They basically figured out that a degree in electrical engineering was punishment enough and that the threat of drowning would actually be considered an improvement from lab.
2) For those who are wondering what Jack Ingram saying he had a hit equates to, his song “Wherever You Are” is the number three country song right now. This is really, really shocking to me since I have that album and I heard the song and it might make my top ten of Jack’s songs but it’s not at the top of the list. That’s not a knock on the song, he just has a great catalog of tunes. But wow, a guy that I’ve hung out with after shows has a number three song on the charts. Something is going seriously wrong here.
3) True story from the weekend. I was hanging out at the bar late at night, enjoying the fact that it was pretty empty and I could relax. Until I heard the crowd enter behind me at which point I thought that things would get interesting very quickly. I didn’t even turn to see them, I just looked at the bartender (who also manages the place) and you could see him thinking “How the hell can I get these people out of my bar as soon as possible?” Somehow I had the two very drunk girls crashing into my bar stool, one of whom essentially ended up on my lap and the other asked me if I was married. To be honest, I don’t think that I’ve ever had that be the first thing anyone has said to me before.
4) How I Met Your Mother Update Part 1: So we finally have it stated that Ted is 28, which makes him four years younger than me. So, he’s my younger self I can deal with that. I mean, I won’t be five years older than him for…dear lord, am I turning 33 in four months? When the hell did I get this old? Seriously, I think I turned twelve last Thursday and then just fast forwarded through the next twenty years of my life. And while my 30th birthday did not involve a goat I am proud of the fact that even though I was alone in Kansas City I still got an awesome story out of it.
5) How I Met Your Mother Update Part 2: They really have to be careful on this whole Ted and Robin thing. It is becoming another Ross and Rachel where you don’t actually give a damn if they get together or not you just want them to do something. Things like this make you start counting the days until the show jumps the shark.
6) How I Met Your Mother Update Part 3: What, you want me to comment on the matchmaking service mentioned in the show? Why would I have a comment on a matchmaking service? Stop looking at me that way, I have no idea what you are all snickering about.
7) How I Met Your Mother Update Part 4: Absolute best line and idea from the show: sometimes you know that what you are doing is a mistake but you have to go ahead and do it to prove to yourself that it is a mistake. Because if you live your life doing everything perfectly (like I have mistakenly tried to do) all you end up with is feeling that you haven’t actually done anything because you never knew what you could actually do. Sometimes you need to fail just so you can fail.
1) Ok, I’m pretty sure that there are some ND alums from the undergraduate side who read this blog and I need their confirmation of a CNN story. Does Notre Dame still have you pass a swimming test in order to graduate from college? That is what the story said and I couldn’t remember if it was true or not. It’s thankfully not true for graduate school, or I’d be the first A student to fail to get a degree because he has the floatation characteristics of a large piece of concrete. I’ve always heard about these sorts of things but I never had to go through them at Illinois. They basically figured out that a degree in electrical engineering was punishment enough and that the threat of drowning would actually be considered an improvement from lab.
2) For those who are wondering what Jack Ingram saying he had a hit equates to, his song “Wherever You Are” is the number three country song right now. This is really, really shocking to me since I have that album and I heard the song and it might make my top ten of Jack’s songs but it’s not at the top of the list. That’s not a knock on the song, he just has a great catalog of tunes. But wow, a guy that I’ve hung out with after shows has a number three song on the charts. Something is going seriously wrong here.
3) True story from the weekend. I was hanging out at the bar late at night, enjoying the fact that it was pretty empty and I could relax. Until I heard the crowd enter behind me at which point I thought that things would get interesting very quickly. I didn’t even turn to see them, I just looked at the bartender (who also manages the place) and you could see him thinking “How the hell can I get these people out of my bar as soon as possible?” Somehow I had the two very drunk girls crashing into my bar stool, one of whom essentially ended up on my lap and the other asked me if I was married. To be honest, I don’t think that I’ve ever had that be the first thing anyone has said to me before.
4) How I Met Your Mother Update Part 1: So we finally have it stated that Ted is 28, which makes him four years younger than me. So, he’s my younger self I can deal with that. I mean, I won’t be five years older than him for…dear lord, am I turning 33 in four months? When the hell did I get this old? Seriously, I think I turned twelve last Thursday and then just fast forwarded through the next twenty years of my life. And while my 30th birthday did not involve a goat I am proud of the fact that even though I was alone in Kansas City I still got an awesome story out of it.
5) How I Met Your Mother Update Part 2: They really have to be careful on this whole Ted and Robin thing. It is becoming another Ross and Rachel where you don’t actually give a damn if they get together or not you just want them to do something. Things like this make you start counting the days until the show jumps the shark.
6) How I Met Your Mother Update Part 3: What, you want me to comment on the matchmaking service mentioned in the show? Why would I have a comment on a matchmaking service? Stop looking at me that way, I have no idea what you are all snickering about.
7) How I Met Your Mother Update Part 4: Absolute best line and idea from the show: sometimes you know that what you are doing is a mistake but you have to go ahead and do it to prove to yourself that it is a mistake. Because if you live your life doing everything perfectly (like I have mistakenly tried to do) all you end up with is feeling that you haven’t actually done anything because you never knew what you could actually do. Sometimes you need to fail just so you can fail.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Getting off the couch
This is a good indication of the type of weekend that I had. After working out this afternoon (very poorly I might add because of a high ankle sprain that just will not go away) I took a shower and told myself, “Ok, I’ve got a ton of stuff to accomplish tonight so I have to make every minute count.” I then promptly had dinner and then lied down on the couch and watched the Simpsons and Family Guy for two hours. Sigh. For the record, I’m not lazy, it’s just that my motivation is currently misplaced. Oh, and I played solitaire on the computer as well because, well, that’s just the state that my life is in right now. (More on that as the week progresses)
I did actually get out of my apartment for part of the weekend. I hit the Brookside Art Fair and it reminded me a lot of the Old Town Art Fair in Chicago. Same funky type of neighborhood, same parking on the streets so that you are guaranteed to forget where you parked, same interesting mix of people. Except that while they had the same number of booths it was like in one quarter of the space. I’m not kidding, at one point I was walking down the aisle between booths and realized that if I stretched my arms out I could touch them on both sides. When you describe an art fair, the word “claustrophobic” really shouldn’t be the first to spring to mind.
Didn’t see anything there that really struck my fancy. Some interesting sculpture work but at that price range I could pick up another Everhart and finally have a painting of Charlie Brown in my apartment. It is a lot cooler than it sounds (or reads), believe me. Otherwise, a lot of New Mexico art and pictures of apparently the same towns in Italy and Ireland that every artist takes. It doesn’t matter what art fair you go to, there are certain pictures that never change. I did see a cool one of the Aran Islands, one of my favorite places in Ireland, which I might think about picking up one of these days.
I also caught Jack Ingram in concert over the weekend. I figured out that the first time I saw Jack was back in ’99 so I’ve been seeing his shows for a long time. Waiting for the show to start I found myself talking to the same people that I meet at every show: the guy from Pitt State, the couple that brings their kids, the woman with the camera who is at every show that I attend and either she is stalking me or I’m stalking her and neither one of us can figure out which. Anyway, I was talking to them before the show and one commented, “Might as well take advantage of the chance now because Jack is going to play bigger venues from here on out.” Which I took as odd as I’ve been seeing him for years and often it was just me and a couple dozen of my closest friends in the bar.
His show started off a little rocky as he dealt with technical difficulties. Either that or he’s decided that “Guitar down, damnit!” is a great opening lyric. Jack’s always an upbeat guy and he was pissed at the soundman, I was confident that I was finally going to see a guy unplug his guitar, walk over to the soundman, and just start clubbing him with the guitar. But they got things together and he put together his fun show with a tinge of religious revival thrown in. He even surprised me by admitting that he had now made it. Because he actually has a certifiable hit and he’s going to be opening for Sheryl Crow. And as much as I prefer my favorites acts to play small clubs where only cool people can hear them I’m proud for the guy. For once, I might be able to say I listened to him well before he was cool.
The five random CDs of the week (and a motley crew at that, including some that haven’t been listened to for a decade)
1) Beausoleil “La Danse De La Vie”
2) Counting Crows “August and Everything After”
3) Jump, Little Children “Vertigo”
4) The Frames “The Roads Outgrown”
5) Various Artists “O Brother, Where Art Thou”
I did actually get out of my apartment for part of the weekend. I hit the Brookside Art Fair and it reminded me a lot of the Old Town Art Fair in Chicago. Same funky type of neighborhood, same parking on the streets so that you are guaranteed to forget where you parked, same interesting mix of people. Except that while they had the same number of booths it was like in one quarter of the space. I’m not kidding, at one point I was walking down the aisle between booths and realized that if I stretched my arms out I could touch them on both sides. When you describe an art fair, the word “claustrophobic” really shouldn’t be the first to spring to mind.
Didn’t see anything there that really struck my fancy. Some interesting sculpture work but at that price range I could pick up another Everhart and finally have a painting of Charlie Brown in my apartment. It is a lot cooler than it sounds (or reads), believe me. Otherwise, a lot of New Mexico art and pictures of apparently the same towns in Italy and Ireland that every artist takes. It doesn’t matter what art fair you go to, there are certain pictures that never change. I did see a cool one of the Aran Islands, one of my favorite places in Ireland, which I might think about picking up one of these days.
I also caught Jack Ingram in concert over the weekend. I figured out that the first time I saw Jack was back in ’99 so I’ve been seeing his shows for a long time. Waiting for the show to start I found myself talking to the same people that I meet at every show: the guy from Pitt State, the couple that brings their kids, the woman with the camera who is at every show that I attend and either she is stalking me or I’m stalking her and neither one of us can figure out which. Anyway, I was talking to them before the show and one commented, “Might as well take advantage of the chance now because Jack is going to play bigger venues from here on out.” Which I took as odd as I’ve been seeing him for years and often it was just me and a couple dozen of my closest friends in the bar.
His show started off a little rocky as he dealt with technical difficulties. Either that or he’s decided that “Guitar down, damnit!” is a great opening lyric. Jack’s always an upbeat guy and he was pissed at the soundman, I was confident that I was finally going to see a guy unplug his guitar, walk over to the soundman, and just start clubbing him with the guitar. But they got things together and he put together his fun show with a tinge of religious revival thrown in. He even surprised me by admitting that he had now made it. Because he actually has a certifiable hit and he’s going to be opening for Sheryl Crow. And as much as I prefer my favorites acts to play small clubs where only cool people can hear them I’m proud for the guy. For once, I might be able to say I listened to him well before he was cool.
The five random CDs of the week (and a motley crew at that, including some that haven’t been listened to for a decade)
1) Beausoleil “La Danse De La Vie”
2) Counting Crows “August and Everything After”
3) Jump, Little Children “Vertigo”
4) The Frames “The Roads Outgrown”
5) Various Artists “O Brother, Where Art Thou”
Thursday, May 04, 2006
In Lando We Trust
Big news today. Ok, big news for guys like me who dress our dogs up as Boba Fett for Halloween and trust me, you need to schedule more than a weekend if you are going for that look. Do you know how long it takes to turn a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket into a convincing helmet that doesn’t smell like Extra Crispy? It’s a lot longer than you think. Moving on…
Anyway, the news is that Lucas is going to release the original trilogy on DVD the way it was originally broadcast in theaters. No digital additions, no wacky characters showing up on Tatooine, no badly animated Jabba the Hutt, and no Hayden Christiansen in the final scene. And most importantly, once again Han will shoot first. Because Han wasting Greedo defines just how much of a bad ass Han is.
Of course, I already own the DVD set they released a few years back of the special editions, which means that I will need to buy copies of movies that I already own. That was acceptable in converting from VHS to DVD but it kind of blows to have to pay to get a copy of a movie that I already own. Just goes to show that Lucas is going to wring every last dollar out of this franchise that he possibly can.
I still haven’t done what I’ve threatened to do on many occasions, which is watch all six films back to back to back to back to back to back. 12+ hours of non-stop action, pointless dialogue, haphazard acting and the knowledge that in the end an entire galactic empire is overthrown by a bunch of Ewoks. It does seem like the perfect rainy Sunday endeavor with my running a live blog all the while. I just don’t know if I could do it and remain sane. Plus, I’d be halfway through it and go, “Wow, why the hell did the special effects get real sucky all of a sudden.”
(I’ll say this again here. When I started this blog Super mentioned that it was in essence one big Match.com ad for myself. Sounds perfect that I could just happen to tell someone that I am a writer and point them to this site and wow, look at how creative I am. Except that I have posts like this littered throughout that guarantee that my social life will consist of a lot of late nights pondering just how much hairspray that Leia must have used and why the empire felt a need to compact their trash rather than just expelling it into space.)
That’s about it for this week. The MySpace page will be up and running this weekend (it’s laundry weekend so I have a lot of time scheduled to being in my apartment with nothing else to do.) Tomorrow is Cinqo de Mayo so for those of you who wish to celebrate an invented holiday, go right ahead. Given that my friends in Mexico City don’t celebrate it or even understand why it is important, I have to question the need for a major event but hey, any excuse to drink tequila is good in my book.
Anyway, the news is that Lucas is going to release the original trilogy on DVD the way it was originally broadcast in theaters. No digital additions, no wacky characters showing up on Tatooine, no badly animated Jabba the Hutt, and no Hayden Christiansen in the final scene. And most importantly, once again Han will shoot first. Because Han wasting Greedo defines just how much of a bad ass Han is.
Of course, I already own the DVD set they released a few years back of the special editions, which means that I will need to buy copies of movies that I already own. That was acceptable in converting from VHS to DVD but it kind of blows to have to pay to get a copy of a movie that I already own. Just goes to show that Lucas is going to wring every last dollar out of this franchise that he possibly can.
I still haven’t done what I’ve threatened to do on many occasions, which is watch all six films back to back to back to back to back to back. 12+ hours of non-stop action, pointless dialogue, haphazard acting and the knowledge that in the end an entire galactic empire is overthrown by a bunch of Ewoks. It does seem like the perfect rainy Sunday endeavor with my running a live blog all the while. I just don’t know if I could do it and remain sane. Plus, I’d be halfway through it and go, “Wow, why the hell did the special effects get real sucky all of a sudden.”
(I’ll say this again here. When I started this blog Super mentioned that it was in essence one big Match.com ad for myself. Sounds perfect that I could just happen to tell someone that I am a writer and point them to this site and wow, look at how creative I am. Except that I have posts like this littered throughout that guarantee that my social life will consist of a lot of late nights pondering just how much hairspray that Leia must have used and why the empire felt a need to compact their trash rather than just expelling it into space.)
That’s about it for this week. The MySpace page will be up and running this weekend (it’s laundry weekend so I have a lot of time scheduled to being in my apartment with nothing else to do.) Tomorrow is Cinqo de Mayo so for those of you who wish to celebrate an invented holiday, go right ahead. Given that my friends in Mexico City don’t celebrate it or even understand why it is important, I have to question the need for a major event but hey, any excuse to drink tequila is good in my book.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Mass Marketed Hipness
Saw a news blurb today about a guy who had been a Royals fan for 25 years who had gotten so sick of the team that he put his fan support up for auction on eBay. The winning bid was 280 bucks. So, for those of you wondering what wearing the George Brett jersey out to Kaufmann Stadium is costing you, the answer is just under three bills.
Sad news to report out of my neighborhood. The independent video store that is a block from my apartment is going out of business. This sucks in a lot of ways. First of all, I like independent stores for the sheer fact that it is nice to know that not all of my hard earned income is transferred to mega corporations. Plus, these guys had a killer foreign film section that I would rifle through whenever I had a need to watch a film with subtitles. And I don’t know, it was just the kind of place where you never quite knew what was going to be there when you showed up. Still, a video store having a going out of business sale is a wonderful thing as I finally was able to pick up this early and completely out of print Julie Delpy film for ten bucks. Luckily, there is still one other indie shop in the neighborhood so there is still hope.
Yeah, for the past three years I have lived within walking distance of two indie video stores, a Blockbuster and a Hollywood Video. In the age of NetFlix, even I can’t quite understand this business model. Or why you need four video stores in a four block radius.
I think I already mentioned that the hot dog stand in Westport closed in under a year. The southwestern grill closed after maybe two months and has since been replaced by an upscale bar. Today I even read that the Hurricane, a music and dance club that I rarely entered, might be sold with the idea of turning it into an upscale bar. One with a VIP area and everything. I don’t quite get that as this is Kansas City and no one in this town would qualify as a VIP. It reminds me of one of my first nights in town. I was out at a bar and talking to this guy and a girl and he kept on going off on how cool he was and how he could get into any club in town without having to wait in line. I looked at him and went, “Dude, I’ve been in this town for four hours and trust me, I wouldn’t have to wait in line either.” Shut him up and immediately got the girl’s attention. Ah, those were the days.
One last random note. I was shopping at Target today, because there are some things you need to go to a huge store to pick up and I’ll shop at Wal-Mart when it is the only store left on earth, which is projected to be 2012. Anyway, they have their own hip, ironic t-shirt section including a Vote for Pedro t-shirt. For those of you scoring at home (or even if you’re alone), this now means that it is officially uncool to wear a Vote for Pedro t-shirt or to even reference Napoleon Dynamite. I’ll still say you can get away with the “Pedro Lacks Political Experience” shirt, but that is on borrowed time. If you can get it at a Target in Overland Park, KS it can in no way be considered cool.
(Though I’ll have to say, the “Vader was Framed” shirt was pretty awesome.)
Sad news to report out of my neighborhood. The independent video store that is a block from my apartment is going out of business. This sucks in a lot of ways. First of all, I like independent stores for the sheer fact that it is nice to know that not all of my hard earned income is transferred to mega corporations. Plus, these guys had a killer foreign film section that I would rifle through whenever I had a need to watch a film with subtitles. And I don’t know, it was just the kind of place where you never quite knew what was going to be there when you showed up. Still, a video store having a going out of business sale is a wonderful thing as I finally was able to pick up this early and completely out of print Julie Delpy film for ten bucks. Luckily, there is still one other indie shop in the neighborhood so there is still hope.
Yeah, for the past three years I have lived within walking distance of two indie video stores, a Blockbuster and a Hollywood Video. In the age of NetFlix, even I can’t quite understand this business model. Or why you need four video stores in a four block radius.
I think I already mentioned that the hot dog stand in Westport closed in under a year. The southwestern grill closed after maybe two months and has since been replaced by an upscale bar. Today I even read that the Hurricane, a music and dance club that I rarely entered, might be sold with the idea of turning it into an upscale bar. One with a VIP area and everything. I don’t quite get that as this is Kansas City and no one in this town would qualify as a VIP. It reminds me of one of my first nights in town. I was out at a bar and talking to this guy and a girl and he kept on going off on how cool he was and how he could get into any club in town without having to wait in line. I looked at him and went, “Dude, I’ve been in this town for four hours and trust me, I wouldn’t have to wait in line either.” Shut him up and immediately got the girl’s attention. Ah, those were the days.
One last random note. I was shopping at Target today, because there are some things you need to go to a huge store to pick up and I’ll shop at Wal-Mart when it is the only store left on earth, which is projected to be 2012. Anyway, they have their own hip, ironic t-shirt section including a Vote for Pedro t-shirt. For those of you scoring at home (or even if you’re alone), this now means that it is officially uncool to wear a Vote for Pedro t-shirt or to even reference Napoleon Dynamite. I’ll still say you can get away with the “Pedro Lacks Political Experience” shirt, but that is on borrowed time. If you can get it at a Target in Overland Park, KS it can in no way be considered cool.
(Though I’ll have to say, the “Vader was Framed” shirt was pretty awesome.)
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Cathode tubes and fading memories...
Back to the trivial…
1) Have a few television comments from this weekend. The Simpsons have now reached an interesting point in that they have been on the air for so long that they are now trying to figure out what they are about. The plots are seemingly made by the random plot generator (they segregate the classes by gender and Lisa dresses up as a boy in order to learn math) and you can’t remember if they did this one already. That’s more a fact of being on the air so long. The bigger problem is that they are trying to be edgy like Family Guy and it fails miserably. Bart making an innuendo just doesn’t work.
2) Though an episode built around the principle that girls are bad at math is one that I…you know, I better keep my mouth shut here. There are people who read this who don’t know me and therefore might actually have a positive opinion of me and lord knows I shouldn’t try to change that.
3) This ties into the 18 year old plagiarizer. If you’ve ever noticed, all of those child prodigies who graduate college at 15 are always math geniuses. None of them ever major in English or history, you don’t see someone known for writing brilliant poetry at 12. It’s all math, which is just logic and rules and with enough focus can be learned by anyone. Even those kids who play Carnegie Hall fall into this category, music is a lot closer to math than most people imagine. If anything, this is why I admire people who do things other than the logical side of the world, it takes effort to make art.
4) Back to television, great bit on Family Guy about Chris becoming a Young Republican in order to touch a girl’s boob. On the list of reasons to become a Young Republican this is, well, it is the only valid reason to become a Young Republican. Or an Old Republican for that matter. At least in this case you have a purpose behind your support.
5) Missed the first part of How I Met Your Mother last night (was on the phone with my parents, I actually do have priorities in my life). Nice to see that they are giving Lily and Marshall something to do and the reflections on their prom/entering college were spot on (and Allyson looked killer with dark hair). It does look like I am in the show’s timeline five years older than they are, which is a bit of a bummer. It also makes me question whether someone would be playing Violent Femmes in 1996 at an east coast school.
6) My prom recollections? It’s been fifteen years hasn’t it? Ok, I’ll tell this story in parts throughout the month of May. Going into prom I never went to a high school dance. Yeah I know, what a surprise. The thing is, it wasn’t like I wasn’t liked or in a weird sense, popular. Everyone knew me, I hung out with the guys on the baseball and football teams, and was liked by pretty much everyone. It was just that once school ended or once I left the basketball game I became a non-entity. As I’ve often said, I rarely got a phone call in high school that didn’t begin with “What’s the answer to problem number seven?”
7) But I was still planning on going to prom and had actually turned down offers to enter college early for the specific reason that I wanted to go to my prom. The girl I most wanted to ask had the slight problem of her being in Minnesota at the time. Yeah, people I went to school with didn’t call me. Meg, on the other hand, would call me long distance, which in 1990 meant something, every week just to see how my life was going. If this was a movie script, I’d ask her and she’d fly down and impress the hell out of the people I went to school with and we’d live happily ever after. Or at least that’s how I hope it turned out in a parallel universe. Instead, my long-time cohort, mentor and English Teacher Kevin decided to play a role in taking things in another direction and seeing if I could become the stuff of legend. And we’ll get to that story soon.
1) Have a few television comments from this weekend. The Simpsons have now reached an interesting point in that they have been on the air for so long that they are now trying to figure out what they are about. The plots are seemingly made by the random plot generator (they segregate the classes by gender and Lisa dresses up as a boy in order to learn math) and you can’t remember if they did this one already. That’s more a fact of being on the air so long. The bigger problem is that they are trying to be edgy like Family Guy and it fails miserably. Bart making an innuendo just doesn’t work.
2) Though an episode built around the principle that girls are bad at math is one that I…you know, I better keep my mouth shut here. There are people who read this who don’t know me and therefore might actually have a positive opinion of me and lord knows I shouldn’t try to change that.
3) This ties into the 18 year old plagiarizer. If you’ve ever noticed, all of those child prodigies who graduate college at 15 are always math geniuses. None of them ever major in English or history, you don’t see someone known for writing brilliant poetry at 12. It’s all math, which is just logic and rules and with enough focus can be learned by anyone. Even those kids who play Carnegie Hall fall into this category, music is a lot closer to math than most people imagine. If anything, this is why I admire people who do things other than the logical side of the world, it takes effort to make art.
4) Back to television, great bit on Family Guy about Chris becoming a Young Republican in order to touch a girl’s boob. On the list of reasons to become a Young Republican this is, well, it is the only valid reason to become a Young Republican. Or an Old Republican for that matter. At least in this case you have a purpose behind your support.
5) Missed the first part of How I Met Your Mother last night (was on the phone with my parents, I actually do have priorities in my life). Nice to see that they are giving Lily and Marshall something to do and the reflections on their prom/entering college were spot on (and Allyson looked killer with dark hair). It does look like I am in the show’s timeline five years older than they are, which is a bit of a bummer. It also makes me question whether someone would be playing Violent Femmes in 1996 at an east coast school.
6) My prom recollections? It’s been fifteen years hasn’t it? Ok, I’ll tell this story in parts throughout the month of May. Going into prom I never went to a high school dance. Yeah I know, what a surprise. The thing is, it wasn’t like I wasn’t liked or in a weird sense, popular. Everyone knew me, I hung out with the guys on the baseball and football teams, and was liked by pretty much everyone. It was just that once school ended or once I left the basketball game I became a non-entity. As I’ve often said, I rarely got a phone call in high school that didn’t begin with “What’s the answer to problem number seven?”
7) But I was still planning on going to prom and had actually turned down offers to enter college early for the specific reason that I wanted to go to my prom. The girl I most wanted to ask had the slight problem of her being in Minnesota at the time. Yeah, people I went to school with didn’t call me. Meg, on the other hand, would call me long distance, which in 1990 meant something, every week just to see how my life was going. If this was a movie script, I’d ask her and she’d fly down and impress the hell out of the people I went to school with and we’d live happily ever after. Or at least that’s how I hope it turned out in a parallel universe. Instead, my long-time cohort, mentor and English Teacher Kevin decided to play a role in taking things in another direction and seeing if I could become the stuff of legend. And we’ll get to that story soon.
Monday, May 01, 2006
On Writing
(So much for my life gaining a sense of danger along with a lovely art student with an air of mystery about her. See, this is what happens when I don’t carry a calculator with me at all times, I miss classic Shell Oil references. And yes, there are times during which I am not carrying a calculator. They are admittedly rare but they happen occasionally.)
Had a friend reference a recent news event in an email today that I’ve been meaning to write about. It’s the story of the eighteen year old girl with the two novel deal who has been alleged of plagiarizing someone else’s novel. I’ll still use the phrase alleged here but it was pretty clear that if she didn’t out and out copy, it was at least a huge influence.
I’m not upset about an eighteen year old getting a book deal. After walking into book stores and seeing that Nicole Ritchie and Pamela Anderson had written “novels” and that Jewel has written one of the best selling poetry collections of all time I’m pretty resigned to my fate that if I ever pull a book deal I still will be outsold by an heiress who can correctly spell her name if you spot her three vowels. I mean, I cheer Ethan Hawke for the sheer fact that I know that he actually wrote his book. So an eighteen year old getting a book deal to write a novel that is based on her life is a bit of a marketing ploy but I’ve seen worse.
It doesn’t surprise me though that she may have plagiarized and I wouldn’t be surprised at all if it was completely unintentional. If you read the novel that I was writing when I was eighteen (or at least the twenty pages that I completed) you would go “Wow, you are totally stealing from Kurt Vonnegut. Or more accurately Douglas Adams.” At eighteen I hadn’t lived or written enough to have made my own style and I would say that at point I was more a composite of what I had read than what I had done. So it wouldn’t surprise me at all if I looked back at some of my old fiction and found passages that mirrored my favorite books. At that point in time, they were more my life than my real life was.
Personally, I’ve seen my writing style evolve a bit over the years. You can still see the Douglas Adams influence, especially in the blog with the continual asides and footnotes and the complete inability to follow a “one topic to a sentence” protocol. My recent fiction has been a bit more in the surrealist tone with this dark undercurrent, mainly due to reading a lot of Neil Gaiman and Jonathan Carroll over the past few years. Overall, compared to when I was eighteen my writing is more reflective and subdued. The humor is there, but the punchlines are a little less obvious.
The other reason why writing style has been on my mind was an article on whether or not blogs are a good thing from a writing perspective. Certainly it helps that people actually read what I write but grammar isn’t of high regard (and in my case, is often non-existent). And while I will get philosophical from time to time, most of what I write is pretty trivial. That is a change from my old writer’s journal and it is something I miss. I don’t write about work anymore and anyone who knows a thing about my real life knows that that is a huge issue in my life right now. I don’t talk about relationships and that might mean that one of the coolest things that I’ve ever done might not happen again. That is meeting someone and being able to look back at what I wrote the first time I met them. That is a private memory and I don’t know if I am storing those as well as I used to.
What does all of this mean? It means that I might as well get started on my novel, even if I could expect to lose shelf space to Ashlee Simpson. It means that I wouldn’t trust an eighteen year old to write a novel that is worth reading because you can’t tell a story worth reading without having had a life worth living. And it means that I need to find an extra thirty minutes in a week to write for myself as well as cyberspace. And find an editor, which would make life better for all involved.
Had a friend reference a recent news event in an email today that I’ve been meaning to write about. It’s the story of the eighteen year old girl with the two novel deal who has been alleged of plagiarizing someone else’s novel. I’ll still use the phrase alleged here but it was pretty clear that if she didn’t out and out copy, it was at least a huge influence.
I’m not upset about an eighteen year old getting a book deal. After walking into book stores and seeing that Nicole Ritchie and Pamela Anderson had written “novels” and that Jewel has written one of the best selling poetry collections of all time I’m pretty resigned to my fate that if I ever pull a book deal I still will be outsold by an heiress who can correctly spell her name if you spot her three vowels. I mean, I cheer Ethan Hawke for the sheer fact that I know that he actually wrote his book. So an eighteen year old getting a book deal to write a novel that is based on her life is a bit of a marketing ploy but I’ve seen worse.
It doesn’t surprise me though that she may have plagiarized and I wouldn’t be surprised at all if it was completely unintentional. If you read the novel that I was writing when I was eighteen (or at least the twenty pages that I completed) you would go “Wow, you are totally stealing from Kurt Vonnegut. Or more accurately Douglas Adams.” At eighteen I hadn’t lived or written enough to have made my own style and I would say that at point I was more a composite of what I had read than what I had done. So it wouldn’t surprise me at all if I looked back at some of my old fiction and found passages that mirrored my favorite books. At that point in time, they were more my life than my real life was.
Personally, I’ve seen my writing style evolve a bit over the years. You can still see the Douglas Adams influence, especially in the blog with the continual asides and footnotes and the complete inability to follow a “one topic to a sentence” protocol. My recent fiction has been a bit more in the surrealist tone with this dark undercurrent, mainly due to reading a lot of Neil Gaiman and Jonathan Carroll over the past few years. Overall, compared to when I was eighteen my writing is more reflective and subdued. The humor is there, but the punchlines are a little less obvious.
The other reason why writing style has been on my mind was an article on whether or not blogs are a good thing from a writing perspective. Certainly it helps that people actually read what I write but grammar isn’t of high regard (and in my case, is often non-existent). And while I will get philosophical from time to time, most of what I write is pretty trivial. That is a change from my old writer’s journal and it is something I miss. I don’t write about work anymore and anyone who knows a thing about my real life knows that that is a huge issue in my life right now. I don’t talk about relationships and that might mean that one of the coolest things that I’ve ever done might not happen again. That is meeting someone and being able to look back at what I wrote the first time I met them. That is a private memory and I don’t know if I am storing those as well as I used to.
What does all of this mean? It means that I might as well get started on my novel, even if I could expect to lose shelf space to Ashlee Simpson. It means that I wouldn’t trust an eighteen year old to write a novel that is worth reading because you can’t tell a story worth reading without having had a life worth living. And it means that I need to find an extra thirty minutes in a week to write for myself as well as cyberspace. And find an editor, which would make life better for all involved.
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