Thanks to Leigh for sending this one to the Yahoo group mailing list:




Neat huh?

Having just arrived home I found a message from my parents. It seems they took their chances, drove to the Meadowlands, found a scalper, and got tickets for (I think) the last Bruce Springstein concert (well, last one this tour). In order to do this, however, my father had to cancel his weekly visit to my grandma, his mom. For the second week straight.

And here I am fighting off their guilting me for bailing on them during the High Holidays to do Six Degrees. Obviously, I am merely keeping up with family tradition.

Yeesh.

Whilst driving back from Philly, Mike and I drove past a sign that said, in bold letters: JESUS DIED FOR THE UNHOLY

As a proud member of the Unholy, the only thing I can say in response is: SUCKER!!!!

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/helicopter.html

You'll wear out your mouse button in the process, but it's exactly the kind of thing to do when you should be at work. See how long it takes for youto fly 1,000 feet.

My word, has it really been three days since I last posted?

I apologize--it's been an interesting week. Work has been hell. Rehearsals have been . . . well, I should be more zen about it. One of the actors actually had a very good point about how to approach having a different opinion than the director; namely that, as director, it's his show and the point isn't that you think it should be done differently but how, as an actor, can you best bring the directors version of things to life. Which is all well and valid and, really, I don't like bitching about it as much as I should. there comes a point where you accept that fact that you made the commitment and suck it up.

But the show needs more work. Rehearsals are very . . . automatic. We go on, we run through the scene, and that's it. The notes are minor and extremely braod ("you need to be downstage more." "Be here when you say that line." "You need to be louder when you speak." Nothing about pacing, nothing about making sure you're bringing across what your character is trying to convey. Nothing about the subtleties of interaction between characters onstage. I watched the end scene tonight, and Scott, who plays Flan, was miles above Margerette in terms of volume and presence. It may very well be that he has his lines down better than her. But Margerette is the female lead. Her character carries the show. There's no way this can happen if the actress can't have a commanding stage presence. She's not there yet. I think she could be, but she's not, and so far the director doesn't seem to notice this. We open in two weeks.

My job, as an actor, is not to bitch. It's not to armchair direct. I have my role--which, with two weeks to go, I'm still uncertain how exactly to play it, although I'm thinking it will come across as an angry, selfish brat. (It's a stretch.) I know I'll find my way and there will be my performance. And that's all I should focus on; whether I'm happy with what the director has chosen for me (which, in this case, is negligable because beyond a comment a few weeks back to tone down my arm movements when walking, I haven't recieved a note about my character). but, dammit, it's a phenominal script and I'm going to be in a performance that, as of now, is not going to do it justice. And, dammit, that pisses me off.

Elsewhere on the bitch circuit, work has been hell this week. Wednesday was a good day. Monday was eh, tuesday was rough, today was complete murder. And I'm largely responsible for this; my office is responsible for supplying the raw matierals out plant in Morocco needs for production. I've know since Monday that a new shipment of material had to go out. Mike, my boss, kept saying "send what you sent last time". And I put off really looking into it until today, when I realized that what needs to ship is just a tad more than "what you sent last time" (even though I wasn't involved in everything that went last time). So Pete and I spent the afternoon scrambling to find material. We've got enough for a partial shipment, and we should get by . . .but I should have been more on the ball.

It sucks but, ultimately, all I can do is dust myself off and go once more unto the breach.

I am very looking forward to the weekend.

I have links to comment on, but I want to give them their due, so perhaps tomorrow, after rehearsals.

Nighty night.

I read comicbooks. I am not ashamed about this. Sure, there's some comics I can't believe I own--just like there are records or movies you may own that seemed cool at the time but you outgrow. But by and large I am very happy to have read comics for as long as I did, and I am patiently awqaiting the day when I can afford to start reading them again.

The problem is, with just a few exceptions, nobody thinks of comics as a valid medium. If I read prose books up the wazoo, people wouldn't bat an eyelash. But they take one look at the four-color books I have on my bookshelf and most people--even many of my good frineds--just don't get it. Because despite whatever titles I am have, to them comics will always be about muscled-men in spandex beating eachother up.

Funnily enough, this unacceptance of comicbooks as a valid medium is a wholly American phenomenon. In Europe, Asia, and pretty much anywhere else, comics are given the same respect as prose fiction, theater, and motion pictures, and the influence of the comics produced by those nations is astounding. Case in point: HG Oesterheld, an Argentinian comicbook writer who not only wrote comics of serious literary merit, but was killed by his own government because of it.

If you think comicbooks are nothing more than X-Men and Batman, read this article.

Sean has a habit of keeping old e-mail conversations. I do the same, but when I was let go from Web Media, I had no opportunity to give up on four years worth of saved correspondance. I don't know how or why Sean dug this particular conversation out from the vaults, but I'm glad he did.

In late 2000, Sean and I were part of a writer's group with our friends Lauren, Dave, and Sean Fortner. Lauren lives fairly close to Sean and I, so our apartments alternated hosting duites of our weekly gathering. The following discussion started when we tried to decide who would play host for that week's meeting. The conversation was really between Sean, Lauren, and myself. Apparently I decided that we would choose based on who picked the number closest to the one I thought of. The number was 9 and Lauren guessed it exactly. Things devolve from there.

I've saved the conversation as a Microsoft Word file. You can right-click this link and "save target As" in order to download the file.

I dunno. I just thought it be fun to use in the headings.

I've been meaning to comment on this one since Friday. Found on Skate Jesus this is the personal site of freelancer graphic designer Greg Apodaca. His showcase of digital retouching is a mind-blowing example of the power of digital manipulation. I would like to direct your attention specifically to here and here where Greg reveals just how much airbrushing is involed in all those photos you see in magazines. You'll never look at Maxim (or Vogue, Cosmo, People, TV Guide, etc) ever the same again.

I urge you to check out the whole section as some of his work is absolutely amazing. As someone who is constantly trying to tweak photos via Photoshop, I would kill to know how he does his work. This color correction example blows my mind every time I even try to figure out how he did it.

Also, for something completely different, click here and then here. These were links from Greg's main page, and I think they're completely bizzare, hence I enjoyed them immensely.

Mia and Sean and I went on a bit of a raod trip today. We originally wanted to drive out and surpise Rob. Alas, poor Rob was unable to come and play, so we decided to go with Mia's original plan of driving up last Harrieman State Park and going to Woodbury Commons.

Now, I thought the Commons was simply another park. It's actually an outdoor outlet mall. All these retail outlet stores arranged like a small village. So much like a village, in fact, that between the throngs of people milling about fairly silently, and the mountains surrounding the area, I distinctly felt like I was in The Village, that infamous place poor Number 6 was taken and held prisoner. You think I'm kidding, take a look at these shots from The Village (also known by the "codename" of Portmeiron, Wales, and of the evil that is Woodbury Commons:















Now, I didn't see any giant white weather ballons bouncing about to keep the sedated shoppers from trying to escape, but I think the massive traffic jam that made leaving the Commons a near impossible task is, in its own right, as sinister a device as Rover ever was.

Special thanks to Kipp Teague for the comparitive evidence.

Be seeing you....

Oh wow what an amazing concert. Ben Folds kicked ass on a monumental scale. He attacked the piano with savage abandon and won the crowd over by sheer force of will. His set was phenomenal. You could tell that he still had a ways to go because when he did the audience-participation in “Army” the crowd wasn’t really with him. But by the time he ended with “Not the Same” the crowd was fully into it and Ben conducted the whole center in three-part harmony--standing on top of his piano--and wound up with a standing ovation at the end.

Mia, Sam, and Sean got to see me in full rock-out mode. Rob, having gone to Rush concerts with me, already knew of my habit of air-playing instruments, but for some reason everyone else seemed surprised to see me air-piano throughout Ben’s entire set. Rob asked Mia if she had any medication to stop my seizures. Maybe it was a good thing Ben didn’t play “Narcolepsy” after all, because then I would have really frightened my friends.

I’m happy to say that even though this was the sixth time seeing Tori in concert in just ten months, this was probably my favorite show of them all. I’ve been pretty burnt out on her since the three Radio City shows in March--how people can just follow her around I’ll never get; surely there was to be a level of saturation somewhere. But this concert was well worth going to.

It’s a wonderful contrast in styles between Folds and Amos (whom I’ve decided, as I don’t really know them, I should probably not relate to them on a first name basis). Folds, as I said, descends upon the piano like rabid Valkyries. Amos is no less passionate, but it’s a smoldering intensity, channeled with precision instead of Fold’s hurricane force. The same level of force is achieved but by completely different means.

The fact that it was Tori’s 40th birthday permeated the night. Fortunately, the crowd didn’t break out into sporadic shouts of “Happy Birthday, Tori!” as much as I feared; probably because the fact was clearly evident in Tori’s performance. There was a quick little improve by Tori where she talked about feeling old, though her husband thought she was still sexy even if she was 40. And during the Roadside Café (for all you non-Tori fans, that’s the part in Tori’s “with a band” concerts where the band leaves and Tori performs a few songs solo) all the songs were about getting older.

Of course, as it was Tori’s birthday, the tour crew couldn’t let that fact go without giving the occasion its proper due. Just before the first encore, the crew wheeled two birthday cakes on stage. The whole place exploded as the stage lights came up. There was Matt on drums, Jon on bass--and BEN FUCKING FOLDS ON TORI’S BOSE! All of a sudden the three of them started playing The Beatles “Birthday” song and everyone started singing along. Rob, Sean, and I were screaming at the top of our lungs. BEN FUCKING FOLDS WAS PLAYING TORI’S PIANO! AND HE WAS PLAYING WITH MATT AND JON!!! (I felt this bared repeating, in case you missed in the first time.) Definitely the highlight of the night.

All in all, it was a phenomenal concert, and a fitting "end of Summer" kind of concert to go to. I'll be glad to take a break from Tori shows (the scuttlebutt is that Tori will be taking 2004 off and won't be back on the road until 2005) but I'm hoping Folds comes back around soon so we can see him do a full set.

Got an e-mail from the Color Bars Mailing list. Seems they've got two NYC area shows this weekend. The first is tonight at The Mercury Lounge in NYC, and the second is tomorrow in Jersey City. They're also going on tour and hitting the Philly area next Thursday.

I like The Color Bars (you can probably tell), they're a funky band with a good sound and catchy lyrics. If you're free tonight, I heartily recommend you see them. Depending on my schedule tomorrow, I may see the show in Jersey City, if anyone is interested.

You can check out the band at the Color Bars' website. It's got info on the gigs and songs to download. Highly recommended.

My car is in the shop and it is disgustingly humid out, so while I have some time to kill before Rob shows up, I figured I'd make a coupla comments.

Firstly, I'd like to apologize to Miller for not giving him credit where credit it due. Mill is the one who sent me the Hellblazer info. In the first draft of the blog (where I ranted at length about the casting) I did mention that he sent me the info, and I totally forgot to include that when I wrote the second version. Sorry, Mill; please forgive me. And I'm glad you're joining the Committee. I'll post your suggestions once I get a few more.

Speaking of screw ups, I'd like to point out that Lauren does not live in Bellvue. She actually lives in Bloomfield, but I always thought it was Bellville. There's a Bellvue Ave and a Bellville Ave here in Bloomfield, and as I forever mix those two up, it's carried over into the name of the damn town. Even though it's not the town she lives in. Oh well. Either way, Lauren wrote to me asking that I clairfy that she does not live in an insane asylum. Mind you, she is marrying Dave, so my "mistake" could simply be a premonition.

Oh, and Ross? Obviously updating this blog takes a lot less time than it does updating Available Light so nyah! I promise, I will get to updating AL later than sooner. Place bets, make it sporting while you wait.

Lastly, to Ryan, who calls my blog "pure genius, pure genius!!!!!!" Thank you, and I am putting that quote somewhere on this site once I get a proper design.

You know, now would probably be a good time to mention that any comments people make regarding my blog will most likely be responded to on my blog.

I am hereby starting a Committee whose sole purpose is to find a way to exterminate as many people in the world as possible, as creatively and amusing as possible. I've got the obvious ones: giving young children balloons filled with Ebola, lacing all local Starbucks coffee with Liquid Drano, forcing people to sit through a 24-hour marathon of Celine Dion concerts; but I'm looking for something more fufilling. Remember, laughing at other people's agony is good for the soul. Anyone who wishes to join said committee--or just send ideas (and reading this blog is already on this list so you can forget about that one), you know how to get in touch with me. I will post the better answers.

(Hey, Dave, does this count as participation in your White Noise writing group?)

God dammit I'm cranky.

I'm in a pissy mood. Rehearsals were aggravating, I spent 45 minutes stuck in construction as the traffic from three major highways were funnelled into one lane, and it's 11:40 and even on my day off I have to get up early to get my car in for some minor but immediate repairs. (It hasn't been a good year for my car. Probably because the driver is a reckless yutz, but that's for a later blog.)

I wanted to make a witty rant over my discovering of Keanu "Woah" Reeves being cast as John Constantine in the upcomming Hellblazer movie, but I'm too tired and, quite frankly, if you just read this page you'll see how absolutely laughable it is to cast Reeves in the role. (The funny thing is, I've long since stopped caring what changes are made when comics I've enjoyed are made into movies, but, like I said, I'm in a pissy mood.)

Anyway, to top it off, I've got several links I'd like to share and comment about, and some e-mails to address, but with the sudden desire to slam head into pillow, I just don't have the time. And with the Tori concert tomorrow, I won't have time then either.

Maybe by Sunday I'll post something.

Nighty night. Don't go to Starbucks tomorrow. Just to be safe.

Some interesting things whilst surfing the net at work today. (It's been slow. It wasn't slow at the start of the week, and last week was fairly busy. It's died considerably the last few days. But I digress.)

This one's for my friend Pete:
A discussion of Bum Wines including such intoxicating classics as Mad Dog 20/20 and Wild Irish Rose.

Paul Newman warns Fox Broadcasting that he is still HUD. Poor Fox News. If this keeps up, they're gonna litigate themselves into oblivion. Party at my place!!

This last item is really amusing: an article on Salon.com about "What Women Want." Which starts off with a "journalistic" description of a woman flirting with lesbianism, using that as a sequeway to discuss research which shows "women may be naturally aroused by both sexes, and what turns them on may have little to do with their sexual orientation. "

This thing worth a blog-rant in itself. But for now, I'll just comment on how amusing it was to read an article about a dubious study that essentially makes the claim that women and men are different, but tries to make more of it by sexing the thing up. And I used to like Salon for it's professionalism.

Courtesy of The Skate Jesus Forum

I happen to have the first seven issues of a very collectible series, which alone is worth a decent amount of cash. And, by sheer dumb luck, I happen to posses the rare, alternate cover of the first issue of the series, which, by virture of simply being a picture of Spider-Man on a white background, is worth a couple hundred dollars. Because people are fucking stupid.

But when the comics sold for what I expected, the guy didn't send the money. When I re-posted the bid, they went for only half the amount of the previous bid. So, naturally, I'm holding off selling them. Because I am fucking greedy.

The thing is, I was hoping to get that money. I could've used it to pay off some bills and, honestly, buy more comics. (I haven't bought a damn thing since April. I'm starting to get the shakes.) So, if you happen to know of anyone looking to buy some Ultimate Spider-Man comics (with the "white cover") please let me know.

So I'm at work, and I've got a couple of order sheets that I've signed off on, and I have to give them to Sana, our production manager. But Sana is in with the other big wigs with some IBM reps regarding qualification issues. I know it'll be an hour or so, at least, before Sana gets to the orders. So I go up to Brenda and Sandy (Laura is out on vacation) and let them know. At which point Brenda and I start remarking how it's been a week since Mike first came to us and told us that things had to change "immediately" and, were Brenda the Production Scheduler, the customers would have had an answer immediately rather than wait the extra hour or so. The extra hour or so that, according to Mike, we can't afford to have. Which he has yet to rectify, even though all the participants (well, at least Customer Service and Purchasing Departments) are ready to go.

Brenda is going on a long weekend and leaving early on Thursday, and I'll be off Friday, so we both know there won't be any changes until at least next week. But of course it will be longer than that. I'm betting October. Anyone care to wager?

Don't you hate it when you put food in the fridge, specifically yummy ready-to-bake cookie dough, then go to the fridge and discover it's not there because your dumb roommate moved it to the freezer to make room for his food, and he forgot to tell you?

Fortunately Sean wasn't too angry at me for doing that.

Heh heh heh--whoops.

So today marked my return to rehearsals for "Six Degrees of Separation." I had gotten to enjoy having time to myself last week, so I was not looking forward to the long drive and long waiting at rehearsals. Fortunately this will be a light week--there was rehearsal tonight, off tomorrow, then rehearsal on Thursday. But having taken off for the Tori concert, I won't have rehearsal on Friday either, so at least I get to edge slowly back into the grind with two nights instead of the usual four.

We've got some real characters in our cast. With the demanding schedule, and most of us on for only a small amount of time, we've gotten quite punchy in-between stage time, and it's carried onto the stage as well. Which can be amusing now as people goof off on delivery or break character to make fun of someone messing up a line, but I wonder, with the show just under a month away, if it isn't going to be a problem as it hits crunch time.

My own delivery was a bit weak tonight, partly due to the week off, but also because, honestly, it gets a bit hard to care. I mean, I get to rehearsal at 7:00 and sometimes don’t go on stage ‘till 8:00; it’s hard to keep the energy up for so long when the only audience in the seat is your fellow cast members: . It also didn't help that the character I speak my lines too wasn't at rehearsal tonight, but had I focused a bit more that wouldn't have mattered. So I've got some shaping up on my own to do.

The mini-monologue I'm doing's a bit of a bitch to get right in terms of delivery. At first I tried going over-the-top, and it didn't feel right. So lately I've been playing it straight, with mixed reactions. It's a tricky bit because the scene--I'm lashing out at my parents for something relatively trivial--can work either straight or funny. And I'm used to purposely being funny and getting a laugh, but I'm not used to playing it straight and getting a laugh (which is different from being the straight man--you can deliver a line straight for comedy, but when you're delivering a line dramatically and still getting a laugh . . . well . . .it's frustrating, not to mention a little undermining.

The other problem, really, is I don't get to go through my lines more than twice in one night. I wish I could run through it three or four times in a row to really get a rhythm down. it's so sporadic right now: wait, wait, wait, deliver lines, wait wait wait, deliver lines, then go home. Consistency is all I seek..... (give us this day our daily week).

Ah well. We've got about four/four-and-a-half weeks until showtime. We'll see.

See, I sit out of the California Recall Jamboree for a week and look at what I miss:

Seems some of my favorite campaigners have been re-designing their websites.

The one that has me most interested is dear old Arnie. If you go to www.joinarnold.com you'll now see a lovely picture of Arnie and his dear wife, Maria adorning the placeholder the site currently has. the interesting thing to note is that this is not the original placeholder. The original image just had (a rather goofy) picture of Arnold, alone.

As serendipity would have it, while surfing the web at work, I came across this blog entry on the weblog Resonance It mentions a LA Times article that mention that Maria Shriver has begun to take a very active role in Arnold's campaign. (The LAT website requires registration for viewing. You can use the u/p combo "electricwire/prisoner" if you don't feel like registering yourself.) When I read that, and saw Maria's face on Arnie's site just a short while later, the words "Hilary" just popped into my head. I don't know why.

Of course there could be many reasons why they would picture Maria as prominently as Arnold--to show he is a family man, to use her reputation as a 'Kennedy" to lure non-Republicans to vote Arnold. But. Still: veeeeeeery interestink. But stupid.

Speaking of stupid, I'm sad to report that Mary Carey has ALSO altered her website. It is now work-safe as the semi-nude pictures that adorned her site have been removed. Fortunately you can see Mary wearing white panties and an American flag tube-top, so at least her principles aren't compromised completely.

Sadly, Georgy's website remains unchanged, and just seems to keep posting stuff about her campign and political platform. How boring. Her store does offer "Georgy for Governor" frisbee's, though, so that's something at least.

It was a tough game, but the Clifton Carousers beat out the Bloomfield Bugaboo's in the First Annual Kickball Classic, held in Beautiful Bloomfield, NJ. Despite a late game rally by the Bugaboo's, Captain Sarah Wills and her team edged out their adversaries with a stirring 10-7 victory.

The game started out in favor of the Bugaboo's, finshing up the first two innings with a solid 3-0 lead. The Carouser's were obviously struggling to find their rythmn, with Sean "happy Happy" Hale fouling out completely at his first at bat, much to the dismay of fellow teammate Jason "Call Me Captain" Wills. The Bugaboo's but contrast, were hitting hard thanks to the pitching expertise of Mia "Follow Through" Diaz and the kicking of Eric "Shirtless" Lamedola and Vince "I Prefer 'Game-Fascist'" Jansen.

However, the game took a sharp turn with the arrivals of Ken and Claudia, and soon the Carouser's were leading 6-3, with--

Oh fuck this, I'm too tired, and I can't remember half the people's last names. We had fun. I can't kick to save my life, but twice I caught fly balls from Sarah when previously she kicked the damn ball right past me. So at least I feel vindicated, if not athletically competent.

The crowd was a bit smaller than first thought--Sean invited some thirty people, which would've made for one hell of a game--but in the end it was the ten of us--me, Sean, Sarah, Jaw, eric, Mia, Vince, Andrew, Claudia, and Ken. And everyone got along well and we had a grand time heckling each other. Sean and Jay seemed to be in a contest to see who could yell "DON'T DROP THE BALL!" the most.

Next year though, my team will win. :)

I have been to Lou and Tara's wedding and lived to tell the tale. (Get comfy, this'll be a long one.)

It really wasn't that bad. the family drama was kept to a minimum, and I think I'll keep some of the more sensitive topics under Setec Astronomy, but suffice to say my Grandmother did not attack my Uncle's ex-wife, and though things were not perfect, the day was a joyful one. (Well, at least I had fun.)

So, let's see, where to start? Well, firstly, I seriously thought I wasn't going to make it to the wedding. The chapel was on one of the campuses of Rutgers University in New Brunswick. New Brunswick, and Rutgers U, are old stomping grounds, so I was familiar with the many ways of getting there as described in the directions to the Chapel. I had originally decided to take the Turnpike to Rt 18 as that seemed the most direct way for me to go, but large delays forced me to take Rt. 287. Fair enough. The wedding was at 2:30, I was planning on being there at 2:00, and had left at 12:45 to account for shore traffic. By the time I took the proper exit off 287 I was just ahead of schedule.

However, what Lou and Tara either did not know or failed to take into account, was that there was major construction taking place on the very road I was supposed to take to get to the chapel. Traffic was a mess, the backup absurd. So I pulled a U-turn and tried to find an alternate route. The problem is, every detour listed led me right back into some sort of back-up, and after looking at the map I discovered, at about five to two, that there was no other way to get to the Chapel except for that detour. So I went back on 287 and decided to shoot down route 1 South and pick up Rt 18 from there. Knowing that Route 1 can get fairly busy itself, I figured I stood a good chance of missing the ceremony. Fortunately, and much to the dismay of the many many cars I cut off along the way (including my cousin Robin and her husband), I made it to the ceremony with about five minutes to spare.

The ceremony itself was quite nice. Tara looked lovely, of course. Lou cleaned up good in a tux. (So did my cousin Scott, who is cursed with ebing the youngest of five grand kids, but at 21 it's getting harder to think of him as "the baby" of the bunch.) It was a mixed faith ceremony but, at least to my atheist eyes, it seemed predominately Jewish. The priest--or whatever he was; deacon, father, salesman--didn't recite any hymns, nor mention Christ when he spoke. The rabbi, by contrast, recited one or two Hebrew prayers, and Lou and Tara signed the ketubah--the Hebrew marriage certificate--in front of everyone (traditionally it's done in private.) The only problem--not counting the two trumpet players who were playing far to loud for an acoustically amplified chapel--was that there was no air conditioning. So it was a rather sweaty ceremony as well as a lovely one. (Thought the funniest moment goes to Lou the breaking of the glasss. On his first try he broke the thing into two pieces, right after the Rabbi gave a big spiel about how the number of shards from the broken glass represent all the years of marriage ahead. Lou did a much better job on the second try; let us look on this as an amusing anecdote and not an omen.)

After the ceremony there was a bit of chaos as people got organized for pictures. After about half an hour Aline and I finally made our way to the hotel where the reception was. My parents had a room there so the four of us hung out for the hour or so before the reception started. Aline, as expected, got along fabulously wiht my folks, so we had a great time; and true to her threat, she told my parents that she was madly in love with me and would love to date me but that I wouldn't lower myself to be with her. By the time the reception started my mother actually, half-seriously, looked at me and said I should ask her out. (Somewhere in Virginia, Tara Ciravola felt a chill, as if her status as Unofficial Klein Daughter was somehow in jepordy.)

The cocktail hour went well, but, as is par for the course at a family wedding, a little off-putting. Really, I only new a few people there, so Aline and I started out off to the side for a while. But I spoke with my Aunt Sue, my Uncle's ex-wife. She was another one feeling awkward--after fifteen years wounds from the divorce kept things just this side of civil, but that was about it. (Setec Astronomy, folks; sorry for not delving into this further.) This was only the second time in the last fifteen years that I've seen her as she still lives in Texas. She'll always be Aunt Sue but, really, it's hard to think of her as "family".

Rounding out the "Klein" contingent (beyond uncle, cousins, parents and grandmother) were "cousins" Bruce and Ginny. Bruce is my grandmother's nephew. (Which I think makes Bruce and his wife my second cousins--or first cousins once removed? I can never remember which is the proper term) Bruce and Ginny's daughter Holly just had a child and we thought they weren't going to make it at all, but they managed to show up to the reception, which was nice. They, too ,were people I hadn't seen in some time--the last time I saw them was at Holly's wedding which was in 2000, I think. (Has it been that long?) Bruce is looking more and more like his father, Harold; Harold died a few years back; now my grandmother is the last of four children. Funny: at Holly's wedding--Harold was still alive at the time--my father remarked how true the old saying is: after a while the only time you see family and friends is at weddings and funerals. I don't like the fact that I've reached the age where I can appreciate the sentiment.

There were two other surprises while at the cocktail hour before the reception: I saw Deena for the first time in about ten years. Deena was Lou's girlfriend in High School, and a year or so after that. She was his last serious relationship before meeting Tara eight years ago. I didn't even know Lou still kept in touch with her. I felt bad--she was obviously uncomfortable being there--she had recently come out of her own long-term relationship so be to at her ex's wedding solo could not have been a fun feeling. But she did stay the duration, and I think between our table and my cousin Robin that she managed to have fun. The other surprise was that Ronnie, a life-long friend of my Uncle, has a business that he's looking to get a website for. Needless to say, Bright-Matrix will be contacting him in the near future to see what we can do to make his website a reality. (Networking: yeah baby!)

The reception itself was a bit hit-and-miss. Scott, as best man, give a decent enough toast, despite some brutal heckling. (Robin was by far the worst. At one point Scott mentioned how he hopes to meet someone as special to him as Tara is to Lou. to which my dear sweet cousin Robin shouted out "You'll take anyone!" Ouch.) The DJ, unfortunately, wasn't very good. Some songs skipped, he couldn't transition to save his life, and his song sets were a bit odd--why on earth would you put on dancing music right when you announce that the dessert line is ready? That said, it was a dancing crowd so even though the overall set wasn't great, it did the job. My mother danced up a storm as usual and Aline was out there, too. The four of us wound up dancing together during the obligatory "60's/Motown" set. That in itself was an eye-opener. You see, my father can't dance--which is to say he can dance in only two ways: one is your generic slow dance, and the other, which he uses every time there isn't a slow song--whether it's disco, pop, dance, reggae, salsa, swing, etc--is this kinda-sorta rock-step-side-to-side-shuffle. Imagine a dancing penguin, and that's my father.

(I am allowed to call him that--it's been a running joke in the family since I was a kid. And it was my brother who first pointed out my father limited dance repertoire. As his son, I've inherited his lack of dance floor co-ordination. Fortunately, I've also inherited my mother's love of dancing and her sense of rhythm, so that sometimes manages to balance out the rest. Though Aline learned to her dismay that I can't learn a dance step just by showing it to me once.)

Where was I?

Oh, yes; my father. OK, so, like I said: in 28 years, I've seen this man dance in only two ways. But suddenly, as we danced on the floor, he started pulling out moves I didn't think he could do. We're talking actual variation in his dancing! It was a complete shock! I mean, you think you know a person and suddenly he starts getting down and boogeying. What's up with that?? I tell you, my whole view of my father has changed now . . .

Anyway, I do have to to get revenge on the newlyweds for one thing: apparently, when Lou and Tara were assigning the seating arrangements, they decided so sit cousins together. Now, Lou's brother Scott was the best man so I obviously wasn't sitting with him. I could have sat with Robin--granted, she's sister to the groom, but she's not in the wedding party; not to mention she and I are friends beyond being family. But that didn't happen. Instead, Aline, Deena, and I wound up sitting with Tara's three cousins. Who were 17, 14, and 14, respectively. They stuck us at the friggin' kiddie table.

This shall be remembered. Oh yes; this shall be remembered.

(Though, to be fair, it wasn't just the six of us. Two of Lou's college friends, Megan and Jim, also sat with us So the adults out-numbered the kids. But think about it: three teenagers, an ex-girlfriend, two college friends, and a cousin and his friend at one table? If that ain't a wonky seating arrangement, I don't know what is. Still, as kids go, they were quite nice. And they got a kick out of Aline who was, well, being Aline, so all's well that ends well.)

So, yes, Lou and Tara are married. And I survived, and honestly had a good time, which I think is a good thing.

And this entry has gone on far too long so time to move on.....

Now, would you file this under "Ironic", "Post-Ironic" or "Heh heh heh--no hard feelings, ay?"?

Iraqis Offer Tips Over U.S. Blackout

Yes, I'd be pissy and cranky, and (like my father whom I spoke with this morning) I wouldn't have gotten home until sometime 'round midnight, or later. But think about it:

The largest city in the world, without lights. The New York Times called it "a huge, mandatory slumber party". I saw the pictures on CNN--throngs of people clogging the streets. But there was no rioting, no major looting. You could stand in Times Square and see the stars. Imagine Central Park this afternoon; with power still not restored and a humid 90 degrees, where else could you go? Christ, if I could have been there with my camera....

Something tells me I'm not going to see Mary Fahl tonight. I've been trying to reach the club all afternoon and I keep getting a busy signal. With power still not completely restored, and Bloomberg already telling people to take the day off, I may just stay in and enjoy the air conditioning.

But, still. Crazy as it was, chaotic as it is, given how calm everyone in the city was . . . it would have been something to simply be there.

Well, that was one of my more interesting birthdays...

(a brief [ha!] aside: it's midnight, I have work in the morning, yet I am online to write for my blog. Why, yes, I have an addictive personality; why do you ask?)

As most of you know, something caused a shutdown of a power-station somewhere near upstate New York and Canda, which stared a chain reaction of some twenty other power-stations also shutting down. (Things are still pretty sketchy. First it was lightening, then it wasn't. It was the Niagra station; then it wasn't. I hear now mention of a nuclear plant that shut down, but who knows. Only thing we do know is it wasn't terrorists [nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more]).

The day started well enough. I brought donuts for the people in the office, and the brownies my mother baked for me on Sunday (which, as is usually the case with my mother's brownies, were a huge hit; fortunately, being the birthday boy I snagged the last one.) Now, the original birthday plan was to have a semi-large dinner at the TGI Friday's in Wayne. When I got home around 5:30, power was out in Bloomfield, cell phone services was spotty. I couldn't get through to the Friday's in Wayne so by 6:00 or so I started calling people up to cancel, which really sucked. I was so looking forward to having fun this year. Needless to say, I wasn't happy, though I figured, karma-wise, it would put me in good shape for next year.

My friend Lauren lives in Bellvue and her complex had power; she invited Sean and I over so the three of us (and Dave, of course. And their cat. they got me Jenga for my firthday. Well, Lauren and Dave did; not the cat. At least, I don't think so.) ordered pizza, shot the shit, and watched CNN for comedic value. (Gotta love that President of ours. Poor guy didn't know what to say. And why he kept having to pause before he said the word "blackout" I have no idea. I mean, OK, so on the first try he could have been searching for the right word, but to do it every time?? How the hell did this guy get elected??)

Lauren started falling alseep around 9:30 so Sean and I headed home. Thankfully the power was on, but we were both antsy so it didn't take much for us to decide to go to Lace. (Just one week after last going. Not a good sign.) But it was fun. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my birthday, but certainly an acceptable consolation prize. Sean treated me to a couple of dances. Now, dances can be hit or miss, even if you are with a girl you consider the best looking in the place. But the two women I was with were both friendly and . . . talented, so it was money well spent.

Even better, when talking with Pandora, she mentioned her boyfriend is in a band and they're looking to have a website. Well, say no more! Hopefully, when we meet up at Tori next week, I'll be able to talk to him and drum up some business for Bright-Matrix. Keep your fingers crossed.

Meanwhile, it looks like the power is here to stay on in Jersey. Much of NYC is still without. My father works in the city and I finally got in touch with him around 8:00 this evening. (Interesting how initally I wasn't worried but by nightfall I was started to really wonder.) He was still at his office and debating whether he'd stay the night or take a bus to the airport and catch a cab ride home. I haven't heard from either him or my mother since so I'm thinking he probably stayed in the city. I'll call home tomorrow to check. Either way, he was safe, and not trapped in the subway or the tunnel like I was worried he might be.

My friend Miller is OK too. He called me 'round 4:30-ish. Had he left work five minutes earlier he would've been trapped in the subway, but as it was he was in his office and figuring he wouldn't see Jersey 'till tomorrow (which is Today; damn that midnight hour; it never is "tomorrow" until you get sleep, is it?) Everyone I know Jersey-side was fine.

Interesting day, though. When the power went out at the office and we started hearing about Conneticut and Canada being out we all started worrying. And of course we all thought it could be a terrorist attack. I try and keep the "terror factor" low, personally, but there was no way I couldn't wonder. I'll be really curious to see how the explanations--and accusations--are handled over the next few days. But I think Dave is right about the repercussions. If the Sept 11 attacks didn't improve airline security, this isn't really going to change the power grid system. God bless America.

and the funny thing is, earlier today Sean sent me an e-mail with a list of notable birthday's and events that happened August 14th. Who knew there'd be a new one by the end of the day?

Well, I should probably get some sleep. I have some links I want to post but that'll have to wait. Busy weekend--city-bound tomorrow to see Mary Fahl and then my cousin's wedding--

Holy shit! My cousin Robin was flying in tonight! Damn, I wonder how her plan was. (One more call to make tomorrow.)

Right. It's after midnight; birthday officially over. Sleep and dream time....

Just watched an interesting special on NJN. Apparently, as far back as 1976, a theory regarding the cause of the Salem Witch Trials is thought to be Ergot Poisoning. Ergot is a fungus that's the main ingredient in everyone's favorite hallucinogenic, LSD. Ergot, on its own, is powerful enough to produce convulsions and hallucinations. In 1976, Linda Caporael presented the theory that the young girls in Salem thought to be possessed by Witches were actually suffering from Ergot Poisoning.

The TV program I saw was an episode of the series Secrets of the Dead which focuses on how modern science can unravel mysteries of the past. (I saw a fascinating episode of this series a few months back where scientists linked a rare natural immunity to the Black Plague as being equally immune the AIDS virus.

You can check out PBS's website on Ergot and Witchcraft here. This page reprints Linda Caporael's original article in its entirety. And this site quotes from a book about molds and poisons affecting history, with focus on Erogt poisoning in Salem.

In the interest of fair time, this site talks about alternate theories explaining withcraft, while this article by Nicholas P. Spanos and Jack Gottlieb, published a few month's after Caporael's initial paper, refutes her claim.

The PBS show I watched didn't mention counter-theories to Ergot poisoning, though it seems to have presented evidence supporting the Ergot theory not found during the initial examinations in the 70's. Either way, it's fascinating reading.

So this is the current version that I've created. Not 100% happy, though I think it's an improvement. Might need to get rid of the "cubic" look--your eyes can easily lose focus and look at is as a diamond rather than a cube--but I'll see what Zav thinks. I think the angeled cut-away works better than the curve, though.

The big issue is the text. There's a lot to put there--the company name, the URL, the persons name and thier address. I think leaving out the URl actually looks neater . . . the cut-away forces everything off to the left and takes up a lot of space. But I know I'm onto to something with the design.... Maybe centering the text, putting the name off to the right instead of the left.... hmmm.....

Oh, speaking of design, let me ask you something: What do you think of she-is-kimba.net?

Relax, it's not porn--it's actually a Tori fan's site I found while surfing. Technically, I think it's really cool; she does some neat tricks with layers and backgrounds; definitely something worth studying (for us web design geeks, that is). But in terms of aesthetic . . . I mean, look how tiny her nav bar is, it's practically hiding. And I think her font-size is a poor contrast with the background, and a bit on the small size. But it's a funky site and if you've got some time to kill--and if you're reading my blog then obviously you have time to kill--check it out..

I sent this to Rob, Sean, and Mia the other day, but I like this too much not to post:

Molly Knight is a Tori fan who is following Tori across the country for the Lottapianos Tour. She has a website to chronicle her journey.

(Not-so-brief aside: how the hell do people do it? Follow an artist on a tour? I mean, I'll have see Tori six times inside of a year and, honestly, that's way more than enough for me. Yet some people do it for whole tours! I love tori's music to death, but even I have my limits. What is it that drives them?)

Any way: At the Chicago concert Molly managed to interview Matt Chamberlain, Tori's dummer. Admist the interview, the following exchange took place:


Molly:What song do you think we are going to hear any time soon?
Matt: Well we're working up "Sweet Child of Mine."
Molly: What?!
Matt: (laughs) "We're working up "Can't Get You out of My Head"..But I guess Flaming Lips already did it..."
Molly: ..(laughs) You had me going there.
Matt: I think we might do some Rush covers also...


Now, granted, it's a bit of a backhanded compliment, but just to see Rush get mentioned made my day. So a tiny, tiny flicker of hope exists that my dream could come true. I mean, when I first got into Ben Folds I thought how cool it would be for him and Tori to tour--and their approach to the piano is as different as you can get, but here they are, touring together. Tori could so cover a Rush song. (Just imagine her doing "Natural science" Come, you know it would sound fantastic!)

Ok, so the day Rush and Tori co-headline a tour will be a sign of the Apocalypse, I know, but, hey, I can dream....

So I get to work today. You know, first day, gonna make some changes. Gonna improve response times, this that and the other thing, right?

My boss, Mike, calls Linda, our office manager, around 8:30. He won't be in until 11:00. He comes in sometime around 11:30. I don't get the baclog--the list of jobs on order that tells me how many parts are allocated--until close to noon.

Change or die. T.

Uh-huh.

You know, considering how skeptical I am; really, you'd think I would've seen this one coming....

Jesus, where does the day go? It's already 20 to 11:00 and I've still got e-mails to send out. Something tells me I'm not going to get to them all.

So I cleaned up the copious spelling/typing errors on the last few entires. I'm pretty flagrant when it comes to typo's. You'd think this thing would have a spell-check (which, even if it did, wouldn't correct the shoddy grammar; but, officer, I have my poetic license in my other jacket, I swear....)

Of course, it's all a bit moot as nobody knows about this blog yet. I want it to go public but I'd like to get the design down. Considering I've been trying to revamp my V for Vendetta Shrine for ther last... two years or so, and I'm a month behind on the six-month update to Available Light, something tells me I'm better off just speading the word about this site before I die of old age.

(and I want to be a professional web designer! :)

Speaking of which, I did get a decent working version of the Bright-Matrix business card. It's not 100% there. I want to show it to Mike so he can critique and we can tweak as needed. For some reason I'm getting a horrible sense of deja vu when I look at it. Which means I've either shamelessly ripped off someone else's design or my brainwaves are just picking up vibes from the fututre and recognizing that which I was destined to create.

. . .

Re-thinking that last bit; I might skip the e-mailing and go straight to sleep.

I feel like there was something else I wanted to mention but I'm blanking completely. Sleep and dream time.....

This was supposed to be Part One, but Hannah's e-mail sent me venting, so here's your originally scheduled Blog Entry.

Work got interesting today. It seems our business model is no longer effective. We're losing business, fast, and if we don't adjust, we may not be a business. Which isn’t to say I am going to be jobless in a few months, so much as to say that if things don't change at LoDan, then that could be a possibility.

So things are going to change in the way orders are processed. Brenda's being promoted to Scheduling, taking over from Sana, our production manager. Orders are funneled directly through her, through me. Needless to say, the idea of having to work more closely with Brenda certainly counts as a plus in my book.

The bottom line is: response time has to drop to 30 minutes or less, and an average response time of "within minutes". As it now stands, orders generally take an hour to go from question to answer. And that's a good average. Sometimes it can take over a day.

It should be interesting. The head of customer service, Laura, is clearly not crazy about the changes. Brenda is more than ready and both Pete and I are looking forward to things, too. Mike was talking, broadly, about other changes in the way various departments are run, and hinting that those that can't change will have to go (or we all do). Curious to see how that plays out. There's a constant grumbling between operations and production, with each side pointing fingers at the other. So, theoretically, if Customer Service and Purchasing can straighten out their act, it'll be on Production to straighten out theirs. it's always interesting to see how the realities of profit can alter office politics, so I'm curious to see just how much changes and what the actual casualties, if any, will be. (Hopefully, I won't be one of them.)

So, naturally, as Mike talked about how things have to be changed "or else" (my phrasing, not his), I thought about 'Change or die" because that's what's going on. Now, working at WebMedia was a very static thing. Sure, the company went from print to internet well enough, but then it froze and shriveled up when the dot-com bubble burst. LoDan is in a different position: the fiber-optic market isn't hemorrhaging, just changing. And our staff is capable enough of adapting, theoretically. So I'm actually looking forward to the change. If nothing else, it'll keep me busy.

I genuinely like my job. It can drive me to drink--hell, today alone I scared myself half to death thinking I ordered 30,000 meters of the wrong cable (I didn't), but the people are great and I like my responsibilities. And I seem to be handling them well enough because I keep getting unsolicited compliments from my boss, so obviously I'm doing something right. And, honestly, I want to improve the way things are done. Not just to save my job, but because I want to do it well.

Which is funny, because I don't see this as a career. I mean, Pete's been with the company 12, 13 years. Our office manager, Linda has been there about as long, and Laura isn't too far behind them. They're all in their middle age; these positions can be considered "career" jobs. And yet it doesn't feel like it to me. Maybe it's because I'm only 28, and the prospect of being at one place seems to foreign and far-away. And of course there's the desire to do web design. So, theoretically, LoDan will not be my final place of employment.

But, still, a place doesn't have to be a Final Destination to be a place worth taking care of while you're there. So it's going to be very interesting over the next few weeks.

Change or die. (moo hoo ha ha ha)

And yet I'm not worried.

However, I am extremely hungry. Time to go eat.

OK, I have to vent now. Strike that: this will be a full-on bitch session. Enjoy.

I just got an e-mail from Hannah.

She writes:

Hello All,

I will be leaving for Aruba on Friday morning and I would like to send you all postcards, so if you could get back to me with your addresses that would be wonderful.

Always,
Hannah


Now, the last time I spoke to Hannah, she was away on a business trip and had completely forgotten that we had scheduled an accounting meeting that evening to discuss incorporation options for Bright-Matrix. Things had been pretty dead friendship-wise at that point already, but to be brushed off when it came to business, well, that was enough for me. Neither of us have contacted one another directly since.

(Wait, that may not be true: I think I did e-mail her about donating to one of those charity marathons she does; that was back in the Spring.)

Despite this, I still am on her mass-mailing list. So while I have no contact with her, I am informed that: she's left her old job; is starting a new one next month; has a new cell phone number; is going on vacation to Aruba. And, really, I have to ask: WHY!?!?

I mean, were not friends! Things died a semi-quiet death long enough ago that, really, is it that hard to prune off the e-mail addresses of people you don't talk to anymore? I'm often changing the list of who I mass-e-mail and who I don't based on who I actually stay in touch with. How hard is it to go: "Oh: Craig. I don't talk to him anymore" and click delete? Or, if she actually gave a fuck, to actually write a quick note: "long time no speak; what's new?"

Shit, I hadn't seen Pete since October, I missed his friggin’ Birthday, but I got my ass down to help him move because, as infrequent as we talk/get together, he's a friend I want to stay in touch with. I haven't seen Noah in about a year but we manage to e-mail every few months. Is it too much to ask that contact be maintained with only those you truly want to stay in contact with?

And I know she doesn’t want to stay in contact with me because she made it quite clear she didn't want me around, so as I am no longer a part of her life, why the fuck do I keep getting updates about it??

Yes, I'm still bitter. I'm fucking griping about this on my Blog; obviously issues are in need of closure on some scale. Because I am pissed. Because I thought, even if we couldn't be more than friends, at least we were friends. That I didn't spend three months on the the phone with her nearly every night just because there was a legitimate connection and not because she needed a sucker to bitch to.

But for fuck sake, let me take care of me and if you want nothing to do with me, then leave me the fuck alone.

"Change or Die"--which I believe will be my new catch-phrase for a while (I'll get to that in Pt 2)--is not an original phrase, but to me it refers to the three-part story Warren Ellis wrote for the comic Stormwatch Long story short, it dealt with the realities of change and how far you can go to change something, what happens when you can't change something, and that those that do not change will ultimately stagnate, and die. Change or die. You deal or that's it.

I almost did not celebrate my birthday this year because I seemed to prefer wallowing in the miserable memory of last year's birthday. Which is bullshit, and I know it, and thusly on Thursday I shall be with people who actually are my friends, and not worry about the people who don't give a fuck about me. I can either sit and wallow in my misery, or move on. Change or die.

I suppose I could actually write this to her--in a far more tactful manner, obviously. (I'll wait for the muffled laughter in the audience who are amused to consider the concepts of "Craig" and "tact" as somehow co-habitable.) But the thing is, there's no point. 'Cause the irony is that the only one who really cares about the situation is me. Therefore involving Hannah becomes moot--she don't care. The closure/satisfaction/payback I'd be looking for . . . would be a smoke screen. Because I don't really want to lose contact at all.

But that's the way life goes. You can't always get what you want. Change or die.

OK, I think this one's run its course. Gotta dig out those issues of Stormwatch....

Are there any paranoids in the audience tonight?
Is there anyone who worries about things?
Pathetic.
This is for all the weak people in the audience....

I've been listening to Pink Floyd's The Wall lately. The live version, the one they released for the 20th anniversary of the album. It's really not that different from the studio, thanks to all the effects; but it's got a great version of "What Shall We Do Now?" and the above intro to "Run Like Hell." It's fascinating to hear the audience cheer along when being told they're weak and pathetic. I'm sure some people there fully realized the irony of their applause, but, I'd bet ten-to-one the majority completely missed it. Which of course was the point.

The album holds up well. I first bought the album about ten years ago, and it's still a phenomenal piece of work. Not perfect, of course. The beginning of the second half is a bit repetitive and, like many concept albums, the narrative doesn't flow perfectly even. (Things get really wonky with the second half of disc one, where he jumps from childhood to adolescence via "Blue Sky" and "What Shall We Do Now" only to jump back to adolescence with "Young Lust", and full-on adulthood with "One of My Turns." My current theory is that "Young Lust" is really Pink's "current hit" as a rock star, harkening back to his youth while not being part of the linear narrative. But then again, it took me years to realize Pink was a wife-beater so my interpretation could be off.)

It's no surprise I can really dig the combination of fear, mental anguish, paranoia, subversion and outright rebellion (not to mention a mental breakdown or three) that's on the album. I suppose that's why at 28 it still hold as much appeal for me as when I was 18. Some albums don't hold. I'm going through that with a lot of Tori Amos right now. Stuff that very clearly no longer resonates because I'm past "that stage". Which, by inference, means I'm still going through a combination of fear, mental anguish, paranoia, subversion, and outright rebellion (the mental breakdowns are kinda over, I think). Personally, I think that's rather healthy.

The Wall holds an interesting place in my youth. I really got interested in the album because of a high school class I never took. There was a seniors-only course called Western Civilization, and it was kind of the "cool" brainy class to take, because you got to look at a bunch of things other classes did touch: You got to study "2001: a Space Odyssey", "Monty Python and Quest for the Holy Grail" and you studied The Wall. I had a bunch of friends who took the course. And at 17, to be in school and listening, in class to a rock album was just cool, so there was a good amount of buzz about it. Interestingly enough, when it came to watching the movie, the teacher either skipped or fast-forwarded through the "Young Lust" segment because it apparently featured Pink getting head. Not pornographic detail, but explicit enough. (I still have yet to see the movie so I can't comment on what exactly was shown.) This always struck me odd. Supposedly, the whole point of the course was to present you with a way of looking at things and thinking for yourselves. And if you're studying stuff like "2001" and The Wall you're not exactly starting off talking about babies and kittens. Considering how sexuality, not to mention the subversion of individuality and thought by an oppressive educational system is very important to The Wall it seemed bizarrely ironic to purposely edit out sections. Mind you, the neo-Nazi hate riots were shown without much fuss. (It's like the old joke: Violence on the television? That's OK. Sex on the television? Only if you can do it without falling off.)

Anyway, hearing about the album piqued my interests, but I didn't get into it until I dived head first into (almost) all things Floyd my Freshman year of college. And let me tell you: when all you know of Floyd is the post-Dark Side era, listening to Piper At the Gates of Dawn or Ummagumma is a real eye opener. :)

But The Wall still works. I think it's a stronger album than Dark Side, though perhaps not as technically brilliant. This guy I went to college with, Brian Jude, said he'd love to turn it intp a proper musical. On the one hand, I think it would work. If they could do it for Tommy there's no reason why they can't for this. And unlike, say, Moving Out there's a story of actual substance that would make this an actual musical and not just a musical revue.

(I still shudder to think that Queen allowed their music to go the Moving Out route. Yes, they're flamboyant and operatic enough for Broadway, but god dammit, if you ain't Freddie Mercury what's the point of even trying?).

But by the same token, I don't think the album is really Broadway fare. Sure, there's stuff like Cabaret, but I really think some music was meant to played only in the style it was written.

Ah well. enough rambling. Just remember, boys and girls: if they catch you in the backseat trying to pick her locks, they're gonna send you back to Mother in a cardboard box. You better run...

John Ashcroft is hitting the road to convince people the Patriot Act isn't an unconsitutional atrocity. (Not that I'm biased or anything.

It's not the idea of a politician stumping across America to support his policies that amuses me. But the phrasing of it all; a "multi-city tour" . . . given that the Summer is traditionally a big Concert time, I keep having visions of Ascroft in a rock band. "Ashcroft and the Storm Troopers" has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

A few quickies, because I love Armchair Commentary:

1) Writer Peter David has an amusing Top Ten List on his choices for who should be running for California Governor. David, who lives on the East Coast (Conneticut, I believe; drat, I should know this) has a tendency to be sterotypically liberal in his political commentary, but I think this particular blog entry of his should amuse just about anyone. My favorite is #7.

2) Find me a reason and I'll make fun of this one, too. But for right now, I'll remain midly impressed. Georgy Russell is a 26 year old Californian running on the ballot. She's irreverant (besides the usual "Georgy for Governor" shirts and hats merchandise sold on her site, you can also purchase a 'Georgy for Governor" thong and a T-shirt that read "I asked Georgy out and all I got was this lousy T-Shirt".) but there is a serious campaign there. She's listed as a Democrat, which dissapoints me, but she's gives off less of a "ha ha, look at me, I'm running for governor" vibe than Flynt and so far has given more opinions on the Issues than Arnie.

3) And for you smokers out there, there's always The Smokers Party. this guy needs someone to design him a webpage. Hmmmm......

4) Oh,and here's the State of California's official website regarding the Recall Vote.

I should have known it was going to be an off day when Sean beat me to the shower. Now, understand, I get up at a quarter to seven. Sean normally gets up around around 7:15-7:30, so normally there is no conflict. Imagine my surprise, as I stumble half-consciously out of my room, to find the shower already going.

Work was brutal. A never ending pile of things to do. My Excel crashed on me, so I had to re-do thirty minutes worth of work. Then our netowrk went down for about three hours this afternoon. Which wouldn't have been so bad except for the mound of work I had. Worse, there werte things I could've done that didn't require me being in our netowrk, but my brain didn't register this until I was back in the netowrk and realized I had to do X, Y, and Z off-network.

I am so very glad I don't have rehearsal this week. I have to cook, and my brain would much rather slump at the base of my skull and sleep until tomorrow, so we'll see what I wind up doing.

On the bright side, Bobby just called and told me the check for two of the comics I sold through him on E-Bay just arrived. Still have to re-list the Spider-man's I want to sell, but at least some of it had come through.

Brain shutting down; must go now.

Mary Carey's campaign website is up and running.

"Sure lots of other candidates can wrap themselves in the flag. But how many would you like to see take it off completely? . . . And how many have beautiful natural breasts you'd like to see unwrapped right now?"

Fucking brilliant.

(And way better than Arnie's site.)

Go here and check it out. Nevermind California, get this woman in the White House, STAT.

My parents got me a picture of them with Elvis.

They had gone to Las Vegas over the July 4th weekend and apparently (as I had forgotten) I told my mother to bring me back a picture of them with Elvis. And sure enough, when I saw my parents this afternoon, there's a little 2x3 picture of my parents with an Elvis impersonator. It's the classic, 50's Elvis, not the rhinestone Shazam-inspired Elvis, or even fat-and-doped-up-Elvis, which, admittedly, would have made the kitch value of the picture that much higher, but it's in a tacky Elvis-Extravagance-esque frame and it's sitting atop my dresser.

Now, in 199. . . 5, right before my brother moved to Minnesota, the four of us took one last "formal" family picture. My mother gave me it in a frame (black, of course). And it's been sitting in one of my drawers ever since. But this shot of my folks with Elvis; that gets the public viewing. Make of that as thou wilt.

I was home today in celebration of my impending Birthday, as the following weeked (when my birthday falls during the week, the formal celebration is usually held the weekend after) is my cousin Lou's wedding, and the next few weekends will be Party Time, so this was the best time for me to be with my folks, and my grandmother.

It was a fun day. My mother gave me cash in denominations of two-dollar bills. Do you know the looks people give me when I pay with a two dollar bill? I gavce my friend Mia a two dollar bill a few weeks back, she nearly handed it back to me. Now, my mother gave me a generous amount of them. I can't wait to go buy something and pay with these suckers. I should bring a camera and take a picutre of the cashier's reaction.

Hanging out with my parents is always a wonderful experience. It makes me glad to be their son and completely embarrased at the same time. I suppose that's the case with a lot of people, though at (almost) 28 I'm starting to wonder just how long this phase is going to last. I'm sure, down the road, I'll realize I should have appreciated them more. But for now . . . well, it was a good visit. enoigh Joking and arguing to keep the quota filled for a while. Next Saturday is going to be very interesting. The Klein family in full effect. If only my brother could make it. Is it too latew to fly out to Minnesota to stay with him?

Now that was a rambling paragraph.

One other odd item: I picked up the 'Lord of the Rings" edition of Risk today. It's Risk set in Middle Earth. Cheesy, I know, but it's Risk. So I'm at the check-out of the local Toys R Us and there's a kid there, about 20. He takes the game, rings it up and looks at me. He says "xcraig?" And I look at him, and I don't recognize him at all. Which, of course, is what he says. Turns out it was Rich, the song of my parent's next door neighbor. I used to babysit the kid when he was seven years old. Now he's entering his sophomore year of college, doing the retail summer job thing (which really brought me back as I spent a summer working at that very Toys R Us the summer after my sophomore year . . . eight years ago. I turn 28 on Thursday and I feel impossibly old.

<elvis>
Thank you. Thank you very much.
</elvis>

This morning I'm browsing through my spam and I see the following:

Fantastically Hard Dicksucking Videos

Now, I don't think this is as catchy as "Staggeringly Nasty", but if I'm going to get variations then I'm curious to see just how creative these spammers can get. I'll have to collect some of these and post a list once I've gotten enough.

Now that you mention it, I have been spending a lot of times indoors; why do you ask?

You know, I wanted tostart this because I think it'd be entertaining, but, naturally, todays pickings were a bit slim. Still, just to get the ball rolling....

• Extreme Blowjobs, Facials and More! ezobmriBdvyhkzmCmvg
  --which, begs the question: What more can you want besides more ezobmriBdvyhkzmCmvg's?"
  
• Staggeringly Nasty Dicksucking Videos
  --It's the "staggeringly" that I think adds that classy touch. Because nasty dicksucking isn't hafl as enjoyable if it isn't staggering, you know?
  
• Tired of Deleting Junk e-Mail
  --The winner of the Daily Irony Award goes to....
  
• Hot, fresh, and ready to serve
  --Serve what, my dinner? I guess if you've got that craving for fish....
  
• Find out the Truth
  ---YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!! (OK, so that was a cheap laugh; fuck you, I was amused.)
  
• I got them cheap!
  --Speaking of cheap ones.... this disappointed me, though. No fake "personalized" message, no pictures, just a basic text and a link. I mean, cheap sluts are fine, but, really, you got to spend a money to make some, you know?
  

Gary Coleman and the comedian Gallagher are also candidates in the California Recall vote.

Coleman's candidacy isn't his own idea, though. He's actually being sponsored by an Oakland newspaper, The East Bay Express. Now, Coleman is going along with it, admitting
"I am probably the most unqualified person to run for governor, but I’m willing to do it as a goof if you are.” But You have to wonder: if the paper is nominating you to prove how ridiculous the whole recall thing is, isn't that more insulting than complimenting?

Gallagher, at least, playing his own joke. His Platforms obviously show his genuine contempt for the way California is currently run, but when one of his campaign slogans is "The other white meat" you realize he's running to make a point, not to get elected.

Apparently over 500 people have applied to be put on the ballot in October, though only thirteen had completed the paperwork.

Still, it's getting scary. Schwarzenegger is getting informal backing from President Bush which isn't as scary as how Arnold's already mastering the Poltical Soundbite Two-Step. Quoth Yahoo News: "He offered no specifics on solving California's fiscal problems but promised to improve the business climate. 'It is very important that we straighten out the mess we're in,' he said."

(And, as a personal gripe: Arnold has also said: "I know I can clean house up there and say 'hasta la vista' to Gray Davis." I'm sorry, but that catch-phrase wasn't very good when Terminator 2 came out twelve years ago; age hasn't improved it. I think he'd do much better quoting his other classics. "Welcome to the pah-ty, Richtor" from Commando would do. And I think the classic "What are you waiting for!?! Do it! Do it now!" from Predator would make one hell of a "come-out-and-vote" slogan. Further proof that you just can't trust Schwarzenegger's decision-making abilities.)

Oh, and the DNC has pretty much abandoned Governor Davis. But who gives a fuck when there's far more interesting things going on?

Sean and I went to Lace last night. It's one of the local go-go bars. Lace has been a staple for years, since I moved to Clifton back in '99. Lace is, as gentlemen clubs go, pretty classy. Upscale decor, middle-upper class clientele, and overall the women there are more attractive than sluttish. Sean and I used to go semi-regularly a few years back--and for a while I while I was going practically weekly thanks to Pandora, but in the last year or so Sean and I have finally tired of the scene.

I said "tired" not "given up completely".

We both had been having rough work weeks so we decided, as it had been at least half a year since we'd been there, that we relax, get a drink, and stare at some half-naked women. Now, like I said, we had been practially regulars, and I wound up getting freindly with one of the dancers, Pandora. Very cool woman, we've become as close to "friends" as you can in this sort of situation. I met her in 2000. That it's 2003 and we still manage to stay in contact is actually kinda nice, I think. She joined me and my usual Tori Crew when I saw Tori Amos in Camden last November. We had been talking on the phone on and off but pretty much lost contact around New Years. I had figured that relationship had pretty much played out.

So, naturally, she was working there last night. Funny thing is, I didn't even know it 'till Sean and I were ready to leave. It was around 11:00, I guess. So I see her, go up, and we start talking and catching up, and around a quarter to tweleve she asked if I wanted to get some Disco Fries. She was getting of at midnight, and I figured what the hell, and off we went to some Diner up 23 North, past Wayne. We talked and shmoozed and it was a quater after 1:00 when we said goodbye, and I didn't walk into my apartment until about 1:50 AM.

Fortunately it was another busy day at work, otherwise I porbably would have fallen asleep at my desk.

And now I have an hour before I go to rehearsal.

And I'm helping my friend Pete move inwith his girlfriend tomorrow.

I think there was a time in my life where I wasn't constantly exhausted. Fittingly enough, I think it was sometime last century.

So the big thing--or not, I have no idea how the buzz is compared to other buzz--is Arnold's candidacy for governor of California. Which definitely rates high on the amusement factor, and is more entertaining than Kobe Bryant's trials--but, let's face it: We're talking about a guy that choose Jingle All the Way and The Sixth Day as movies worth starring in. With that kind of decision making, do you really think he's a capable of managing a financially bankrupt state?

Besides, there are far more amusing candidates out there worth watching. Here's two of my favorites:

Hustler founder and publisher Larry Flynt and porn actress Mary Carey have both declared their candidacy for govenor well before dear old Arnie. (Let's face it, when all is you need is 65 signatures and $3,500 bucks to apply, who wouldn't?)

I'm slightly dissapointed that both Larry's website and Mary's (hmmm... "Larry and Mary"; sounds like they should run on a double-penetration-ballot) do not mention anything about their campaign's. Though seeing how Arnold doesn't have a site yet I guess you can't be too dissapointed. (Flynt's does have a link to the Washington Post article on his candidacy, though.)

The funny thing, given Flynt's interest in politics, (and all that judiciary/First Amendment experience) I'd actually think it's possible to argue he's a more qualified candidate than Arnold. Carey, who despite the whole "guns for smut" campaign platform is probably more savy than she pretends; but is there any doubt she's just using this as an opportunity to promote herself? Then again, aren't they all?

I have a friend out in LA and a cousin in San Fransisco. I feel sorry for them to have to live there, but, dammit, it's going to be the most entertaining thing since Jesse Ventura won Minnesota.

See, now, this is really cool.

I'd been working with this comapny, Vantage, on getting some promotional items for my company. The owner, Sid, is the father in law to my boss, Mike. Nice guy, Sid.

So the orders come in, there's some complications (of course) and I'm point man for straightening things out, which gets done in due course.

So about an hour and a half ago I get a package from Sid. It's a clock--a rather stylish one--with the Vantage company logo on it. (Obviously one of the promotional items his company uses). But still, I got a nice looking clock, and a thank you note. Just for being his contact. Holey James Brown, Batman; I feel good.

That's kinda cool, don't you think?




Yes, I am posting from work again. As if all the web surfing I do isn't enough grounds to get me fired.... :)

Shhhhhh.

Don't tell 'em, OK?

:)

Playing with colors and slowly starting to figure out what to do with this thing. Mind you, once I have THAT down, I'll be building a template from scratch. Which will require far more time than the measly two/three hours I have a week after rehearsals. But we'll see.

I'm also doing this to see if the posting format sticks to what I like.

Oh, and let's try hypertexting, shall we: The Memory Hole




Oh, goodie, it does. I fucking RAWK.

I have no idea what I'm doing. I've taken the code and put it in Dreamweaver to see what's what. It's going to take me weeks to figure all this out; like I have the time with the rehearsal and shit.

I'm thinking there's better ways to do this. Maybe not use this at all, but I like the fact that I can post this anywhere...

I need a better title for this thing. I should hold a contest. Yes, a contest between the three of you who will be reading this.

(Hey, why not....)

And on the first day it sucked pretty damn badly....

Testing design ideas. The codes a bit of a bitch which will make customizing tricky, although I could simply skip the neat shit and go for something simple, which I might do, Rabbit, I might....

That and I think supurflous posts are cool

In the Beginning....

Well, I have no idea if this works or not, so here's testing my brand-new Blog.

Pray for the children. Pray for them NOW.