Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Photo Tag From Julia


  1. Take a picture of yourself.. riiiiiight.. NOW!
  2. DO NOT change your clothes. DO NOT fix your hair.. Just take a picture.
  3. Post that picture with NO editing.
  4. Post these instructions with your picture.
  5. Tag 10 people to do this!
At left is me. I'm in my office. The glow of a snowy 3rd Street is coming in from a window on the left. Over my shoulder you can see two panels. The one directly over my shoulder has artwork made by my children. The other contains covers from the newsletter I make at work. Arts On Fire.

I tag PreppyGirl, Tracy, Mr. Social, Stinky Paw and Steaming Bowl of Calderone. I don't think I'm close to 5 more bloggers.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

A Look Back

1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before?
I'm scheduled for a vasectomy on Saturday morning. Never done that before. I also went hunting for deer twice. Shot a doe on the first day. On the second day I learned more than I needed to know about the best way to dress a squirrel and stuff it with sausage for a SuperBowl halftime treat.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I can't remember.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
My blog sister, R, gave birth to bouncing baby B, with some help from H. We're not close per se, but I know she reads this from time to time and I couldn't be happier for their family. A good friend from high school, Bryan and his wife Missy adopted a little girl this year.

4. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
A creative outlet. I left improv for the most part last year. Maybe I should finally do a radio pilot. Hey, there's a resolution!

5. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
November 4. Big election. You might have remembered some of it.

6. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
The garage sale and the gazebo.

7. What was your biggest failure?
The gazebo. The gutter.

8. What was the best thing you bought?
Netflix has been pretty cool. The new lawnmower rocks.

9. Whose behavior merited celebration?
The wife, the kids.

10. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Anyone who continued to spread rumors as truth before, during and after the election. Especially after many were disproven. Both candidates. George W. Bush for continuing to block his people from answering questions on the record.

11. Where did most of your money go?
Home and Car Loans.

12. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Thanksgiving. My kids being in the same school again.

13. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
Happier. Same weight. Richer.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Seven Wonders On My IPod

Julia tagged everyone for this one. The gist is writing about the 7 songs you've listened to the most in two years. In no particular order:

7. Jacksonville - Sufjan Stevens
I first heard this song on Austin City Limits just over two years ago. First impressions are everything, and the live version of this is my favorite.

6. Across The Wire - Calexico
First song of part two of the afore-mentioned episode of Austin City Limits. Again, the live version is tops with me.

5. Side With The Seeds - Wilco
This is now my favorite Wilco song. The noodling is lifted from an old Pavement song, but I don't care. Nels Cline (guitar solo) was not only a great addition on the last album, but he also makes older songs by the band better. True story: PGirl and I sat on a couch with Nels Cline in the back room of a club before a Mike Watt concert.

4. I Got Mine - Black Keys
Yeah, this songs kicks supreme ass. True story: I followed the drummer of the band into a Starbucks in Cleveland just to see if he was who I thought he was. He was.

3. Sugar Water - Cibo Matto
The video is pretty damn cool, but so is the song. I'm pretty sure that a shitty dating show we used to watch in South Florida used this as incidental music.

2. In The City - The Jam
Probably played a lot because it is the first song on a record that usually is played in its entirety on my IPod. Listen to the greatest hits compilation and hear how a band can evolve in a few short years.

1. Hot Wax - Beck
My second most-played-in-its-entirety album on the IPod offers this track which I frequently skip ahead to.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Escape From Turkey

The holiday went on without a hitch. The food came out okay (with the exception of some dry stuffing). The kids got to sled. The ladies did some Christmas shopping. The dog did not jump off of the garage roof (more on that in a later post). The only downsides were GalootJr. getting sick on Friday and a few doofuses at The Wine Cellar.

I played some holiday tunes on the bar's digital jukebox, and (in the midst of programming a Joe Jackson medley) was urged to not play any more holiday crap by a few ladies near the front door. They'd come in after I'd put the initial songs in and were unaware of my choices. I told them, "I played that holiday crap!" and proceeded to search out some supremely syrupy tunes for Christmas. I'm the one putting the cash in the machine, so as far as I was concerned, they could take Rihanna, JT and more and shove it up their hineys. If they'd chosen to play some Top 40 crap, I'd tolerate it and maybe pay for some songs of my choosing.

They diffused the situation by suggesting some Michael Jackson. I was down with that. So, I chose "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" and "Wanna Be Starting Something".

Monday, November 10, 2008

Falling Behind, Or, Descending Ass

Pete, thanks for calling me out. The first two months of the school year have been tremendously busy, personally and professionally. Since my last post:
  • GalootJr. celebrated a birthday which spanned a couple of weekends.
  • PGirlJr. has taken on more ballet classes.
  • PGirl has taken on more improv performances.
  • I have taken on some right-wing pundit-wannabes on our local paper's online forums. (I'm retiring this week.)
  • October saw me traveling a lot for the job and more. I visited with Steve and Tracy in Missouri.
  • Facebook has edged out my blog for my immediate attention.
All is well. The snow is falling, Thanksgiving is coming soon and the Bills are still in the running. Barely.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Human Lottery

Bad Galoot: What's worse than standing in the express lane because someone decided to play all there lottery tickets during the busiest time of the day?

Worse Galoot: Standing in the express lane behind the lottery ticket buying person while she talks about how this happens every time she thinks the store isn't busy.

Worst Galoot: When you buy lottery tickets in an express lane, it ceases to be an express lane.

Monday, September 1, 2008

La"Gar" Day Weekend

"Why don't you tell me about your weekend while we ride around on my hog?"

This lovely weekend is drawing to a close and I'm pretty certain we've lived it as fully as our bodies would allow:

SATURDAY started out with a bit of a sleep-in. I woke up on the couch. PGirl stayed up late on BlogTV, co-hosting with her brother. I woke up from time to time, wondering who she was talking to. It was all explained in due time. We ate a late breakfast. I mowed the lawn. My fantasy football draft was in the early afternoon. By 4:30 it was over. Impulsively, we decided to paint our bedroom. PGirl got the paint, and I moved some furniture out of the room. We painted until midnight-ish. I fell asleep on the couch again, this time with my son sitting on me.

saw us up earlier. After whipping together an egg and turkey sausage casserole and throwing it in the oven, I took the boy and the dog to the local grocery and picked up some newspapers and bagels. We cleaned up a bit in the house, did some laundry and headed out for some groceries and a back-to-school outfit for each of the kiddoes. Dinner was had at Wendy's (ice-cream floats abounded). We dropped the groceries off back home, turned around and headed out for Midway Park. This is a lot like small amusement parks I used to go to when I was a kid, and a lot of the visitors looked like they hadn't changed much since the late seventies. Several of the rides were free between 7 and 9pm. This extension of goodwill by the operators brought a load of folks out of the woodwork. It looked like a fleet of Greyhound busses had dropped their passengers off for some Appalachian Gothic company picnic. There was a lot of secondhand smoke, and more than a few wheelchaired folks with withered legs, criss-crossed to hold cigarette packs and plastic bottles of soda. As dusk approached, we headed to my father-in-law's place by the lake for fireworks, jello-shots, beer and toasted marshmallows.

brought along me awakening in my bed. I made buckwheat pancakes with maple bacon and cleaned up the kitchen afterward. By early afternoon, I'd done a bit of laundry and caught the end of "Mask". I'd seen this movie as a young teen and had read the movie adaptation. What had once seemed like a pretty good, coming-of-age movie now shone in a different light. I don't know how much of it was based on Rocky Dennis' real life, but the fact that the only girl in the movie who could love him was blind came off almost as darkly humorous as some of "Tropic Thunder"'s more gratutitous bits of comedy. We took a mid-afternoon bike ride to Bergman Park, where I found a pretty serviceable trail through the woods. I soon wished my knobby tires were still on the bike, but I managed to find my way back to the family without going over the handlebars. We came home, grilled and are about to embark on an excursion into "Bath Night". Wish us luck.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Moving Pictures

Though our city has a pretty nice mini-multiplex, which was upgraded, our family rarely goes to the movies. In recent years, we've filled this gap with a once or twice a summer trip to the drive-in and some light DVD and pay-per-view films. This year has seen us at the drive-in three times and to a multiplex for just as many films. PGirl and I continued our summer of movie-going a couple of nights ago with "Tropic Thunder".

We laughed. Hard. I shed a few tears as well. Throughout the film, when the dialogue in a scene already had me laughing hard, a well-delivered line would floor me. When Jack Black's tree-bound character, withdrawing from a heroin addiction, negotiates with another character to untie him, the offer made isn't anything we haven't heard before. But the way in which it is delivered had me laughing and gagging simultaneously.

Much has been made over Ben Stiller's character Tugg Speedman, having starred in an Oscar-baiting movie within a movie. A trailer is shown for "Simple Jack", which seems to be a mix of Cuba Gooding Jr.'s radio and God knows what else. Simple Jack's straw hair, crooked teeth and understanding of human nature (when he thinks of his ailing mother "it makes my eyes rain") is so over the top, I wasn't offended in the least. The whole movie is satire turned on its ear and cranked up to 11.

At home, we've been catching up with older movies through Netflix. The service is a pretty good value and we just bumped up our subscription to have two movies at a time each month as much as we can get them. So far I've seen "The Bourne Supremacy" and have started season two of Showtime's "Dexter". I highly recommend both.

Finally, I've been seeing the commercials for "Disaster Movie". Apparently this film, as well as "Epic Movie" and a handful of others are made by two men who worked on the original "Scary Movie". I've seen parts of "Epic Movie", and from what I can tell these guys didn't learn squat from their intial spoofing experience. Where "Scary Movie" spoofed a few movies which were popular at the time and worked into a fairly watchable plot, "Epic Movie" (again from what little I saw) broke the mold and decided to make fun of elements from any special effects-laden film from the year or so before.

"Disaster Movie" seems to take this concept even further, since it doesn't seem to focus on any disaster films at all. From the commercials, it looks like "Hancock", "Iron Man" and "Juno" get the non-barbs from the filmmakers. It appears that these brothers were the kinds of guys that hate movies that are anything but what they do. I know the feeling. I avoid commercial radio so as not to hear the same songs played over and over. The brothers do as well, because in one clip, a cro-magnon type hero runs into a sabre-toothed Amy Winehouse. The joke doesn't work because:

A. If you don't know who Amy Winehouse is, the cro-magnon guy, upon seeing her says, "Amy Winehouse!"

B. If you do know who Amy Winehouse is by sight, you'll pick up on her appearance immediately.

C. Just in case you've forgotten who Amy Winehouse is, she repeats a line from her hit song, saying, "I'm not going to rehab."

They covered all the bases. Just in case. They also speak to the guys and gals who were dragged to "Juno" and are sick of the cover of a Moldy Peaches song which is prominently featured in the film. One of "Disaster Movie"'s characters runs into a scene from "Juno" and shoots a character singing that very song. Because he is sick of hearing that song. Cue the laugh track. I hope these "spoofs" aren't as popular as I fear they might be.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Some Poetry For Friday

Heading for the shower now, work-out was short and brisk,
like a Mary-Lou Retton rejecting me as a prom date.

My chlorine-free shower head is off-limits to me,
because the old man at the next head is sticking his butt into foreign territory.

Sucks for me, cause the old guy is the one bogarting two shower areas, yet I'm the one who'll come away with red eyes.


Friday, August 1, 2008

Happy Birthday Bud.

Jerry Garcia would have been 66 today. I was never a fan of the Dead, but I respected what they did and enjoy some of their tunes. August 9 will mark the 13 year anniversary of Garcia's death. I remember that day well...

I was the master carpenter at Cortland Repertory Theater, near the Finger Lakes in Central New York State. It had been tumultuous season that began with the firing of the technical director before the 1st show went up and had continued with hot weather, a host of set problems and the insistence of the carpentry intern to play endless Dead bootlegs while we built shows. There was only so much "This was the concert where the light operator let his cat walk on the board, which synced perfectly with 'St. Stephen's Tower'". I was beginning to hate what Jerry had created.

Fortunately, the theater hired a temporary technical director for the fifth and final show of the season and I saw less and less of the intern. We become more productive as a unit and played a wider variety of tunes in the shop. On August 9, we finished the set work before a Noon rehearsal and headed back to the TD's house. Chris and his wife (Amy) were going to drive me up to Syracuse to pick up my truck from a dealer service shop. Amy made some bagels with cream cheese and tomatoes and we settled down for a snack.

MTV news was on the tube and we soon heard the news of Garcia's death. I was surprised but not devastated. Chris seemed nonplussed. Amy was bummed. She broke out a pipe with some weed in it and offered me a toke. What the hell? Chris didn't smoke and was driving me to the dealer and the effects would wear off before I had to drive back. Right? Wrong.

Amy's stash had likely been purchased near Ithaca, which is the home of some powerful herb. There were only two times in my life when smoking marijuana knock me on my ass and both strains of the stuff had been grown in this region. This was the first time. I spent the 30 minute drive in the back seat of their Volvo, staring up through the rear window at a clear blue sky.

They dropped me off at Toyota and I was still out of the loop. After paying for the service, I wandered into the parts room for a few minutes until a clerk directed me to my vehicle. There was no way in hell I was going to drive 30 minutes in this condition. I had to get my body right quickly.

Internal dialogue:

"Gotta eat, gotta eat. Where to eat? McDonalds? Perfect. Let's go. No got money. Must get cash. Gotta find an ATM then a McDonalds. Then I go home. ATM, ATM. Can't find an ATM. There's a bank. Good. Got my money. Good. Must find McDonalds. Let's see. Where is McDonalds? Wait. Must read while I eat. Need reading material while I eat alone. Barnes and Nobles is right here. Let's go in. Rolling Stone. Check. Spin. Check. Good to go. Wait. Let's go to the music section. Good. This is a good CD. I'll buy it. And this one too. Rolling Stone. Spin. Music. Good. Must find McDonalds."

This went on for what seemed like hours, but was more likely twenty minutes or so. The Golden Arches were thankfully right off of the interstate and by the time I left and merged into traffic, I was less muddled yet paranoid enough to stick to the right lane and do the speed limit all the way back to Cortland. Needless to say, this was the last instance of me doing such a thing. Thank you, Mr. Garcia.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Spamarrested Development

If you read all of the Blog Shares last week, you might have picked mine out. As one of the few guys (I'm assuming here) who participate, it is tough to share my deep darks as:

1. Using male-specific words would reveal who I am.

2. Using female-specific words would cause someone to think I was one of the ladies.

3. Using non-gender-specific words would bring about a comedy we haven't seen since "Boys Don't Cry".

I wrote the spam responses. I've done it before on Galoot's Hoot Page and I'll take another shot at it here today.

  1. Describe Your Day - I slept in until 7:30 this morning. Took a shower. Walked the dog. The street cleaning truck was on our street. My son liked it a lot. I biked to work. A meeting this morning has been pushed back.
  2. PopeWatch: Fox News Personally Confirms Pope's Death - On his deathbed, he absolved the "Fair And Balanced" news corporation of all their sins. In response, they doctored photos of him and put them on the air.
  3. Vulcan! Quick! Go talk to him. Ask him to do that thing with the shoulder pinch. C'mon! He'll be gone in a few seconds. Do it! Shoot. He got on the bus. He's gone.
  4. Bodyguards Positioned Outside Jolie's Vagina - They sing "I Will Always Love You", barbershop quartet style every night when it goes to sleep. Sweet dreams little Love Pitt.
  5. Get An Instant Cut Off - No thanks. I wish I had more. Wait! Are we talking about something else?

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Blog Share - Summer 2008

As part of Blog Share, I've hosted the following, anonymous post.

Do you ever feel like you've only been existing and not really living? That sounds like a cheesy advertisement for probiotic yogurt or something, but I really want to know. I feel like I've just been coasting through life for all of my adult existence and most of my teen years as well, like I've just been plodding along without any big dreams or goals. Like I haven't been looking to the left or right or even straight ahead, only down at my feet because maybe that way, it'll be safer. That way, I won't slip or step in something gross or crush anything with my huge feet. That way I won't get hurt or dirty; that way I won't step on anyones toes. I'm not sure how I became this way... I've been living trying to think of the point at which I stopped actively moving forward and let myself be carried by the impetus of all the steps I'd taken up to that point, but nothing is coming to mind. All I know is that for many years now I've been a shell of a person. No opinions, no ambitions, no initiative, no drive.

And while I don't want to become so driven that it becomes unhealthy, I want to stop being stagnant and neutral and boring. I don't want to be vanilla anymore; I want to be a genuine whole person, a person festooned with pink frosting and sprinkles, with a big fat Red Hot on the top. I want to be curry or a mezza platter or a tiramisu; something exciting and mysterious, delicious and tantalizing. I want to be irresistible and enchanting. I want to be a Van Gogh or an Andy Warhol.

I want to be holy. I want to run hard and run well. I want my life to sing of God's glory, and I want to his love to overflow from me all over the hurting people I see around me every day. I want to heal the nations; I want to weep with those who are weeping and laugh with the joyful.

I want to be a force that effects change in this world instead of sitting quietly, hating a situation but feeling powerless to to do anything about it. I want to dive in. I want to end up dirty and bleeding and sore and tired, armed with the knowledge that I meant something in this world, something more than a bunch of words on a web page, something more than this person I am now, who sits at home, afraid to enter in, watching life go by and whining about it. I want to give my all. I want to love people, not just the pretty people or the ones I'm related to, but real people with real problems. That bum who always hangs out at Starbucks-- the one who paces around yelling to himself; that woman at my church who is (remarkably) even more awkward than I am; my weirdo neighbors who blast their music far into the night, not caring that my open window is RIGHT THERE; the obnoxious, girl-crazy twerps who bug the girls I mentor-- all those people are hurt and wounded, just like me and you and everyone. I want to look at these people and feel my heart break over the man he could have been, the woman who is desperately lonely, the family who drowns their conflict and unhappiness in music, the uncertain adolescents acting out because they're uncomfortable in their own skin.

I want to be honest and real. I don't want to hide behind my insecurities anymore; I want people to know the real me, (metaphorical) warts and all. I want people to know the real me and I want to find out about the real you, to know and be known. I want to dream bigger and live louder than I ever have before. I want to stop hunching over because I am self-conscious about my body. I want to be free to dance and sing and skip and frolic without worrying if my shirt's creeping up or my pants are falling down or if my arms look fat. I want to twirl around like a little girl in a poofy dress, without caring who sees me.

I want to be who I was born to be. I want to be a woman-- full of piss and vinegar and sweetness and light and tenderness and fury and joy and anger and sadness and exhilaration. I want to be a woman who is passionately in love with Jesus. I want to be a woman is self-sufficient and independent, but who can accept help from others instead of trying to do it all myself and becoming jaded by life. I want to be a woman who is strong but not hard, gentle but not subdued, loud but not strident. I want to fall in love and I want to argue and I want to snuggle and wrestle and hug. I want to give foot rubs and Dutch ovens. I want to memorize scripture and I want to talk dirty to my husband. I want to teach my kids how to love Jesus and how to fart with their armpits and why the sky is blue.

I want to live fully, in whatever situation I find myself.

I want to LIVE.

Read the rest of the posts at these locations:

Vent Vox
Turn On The Stars
Trudie - Life After AC
Swimming With Sharks
Stefanie Says
Shhh! Librarian-In-Training
Sauntering Soul
Sass Attack
Reflections in the Snow Covered Hills
Red Red Whine
Our Simplicity
One New Duck
Oh My Seven
The Occasional Truth
No Lady
Nancy Pearl Wannabe
Muse On Vacation
Messing With Texas
Melliferous Pants
Live Work Dream
Just Below 63
Java Literally
Full of Snark
Face Down
Ex Everything
Everything I Like Causes Cancer
Did I Say That Outloud?
The Daily Tannenbaum
The Coconut Diaries
Bright Yellow World
Breath Smiles Tears
And You Know What Else
3 Carnations

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Let's Share

First, an a bit of an announcement. At some point tomorrow, I'll host a post by another writer as part of a Blog Share. This person will post anonymously as I will elsewhere. Please come back tomorrow to check it out.

On another note, my best college buddy, Steve (married to Tracy - see my blog links) has a new blog. A recent post of his led me to another web-acquaintance, Pete, who essentially posed the question, "What is the importance of an improv troupe name?". I think the name is pretty damn important. After dabbling in improv briefly ten years ago, and almost weekly from 2003 through 2007, my opinion on this matter has changed.

In 1998, I began working with Suzanne and Kim, formerly of Big Purse and Matching Shoes. Theirs had been an all-female troupe in South Florida that also did sketch comedy. The name was familiar in that area, which helped with recognition. It also was indicative of the gender of the performers. I never saw them perform, but I sure as hell knew who they were.

The three of us (along with Keven Scotti, who would soon depart) began some light improv rehearsals. I had no training up to this point and Keven had been in two troupes in our university. Once Keven had gone, the ladies and I began to develop a sketch-revue spoofing public television. It never got off the ground, but we did PR photos, a Second City training and more to prepare. We also agonized over a name for our trio. I threw out some suggestions which were not used, but I still love - Three-Tards, One With Sausage - Two Without. Both names reflected upon the group makeup, but were fairly offensive and somewhat obscure.

For a brief time, we adopted the name, Riding Chickens, which was apparently part of a joke about outlaws who traveled on poultry as opposed to horses. Another obscure reference and very silly. This name stuck for awhile, before we settled on Baker Act. I kind of liked this one. It had the word "act" in it, which implied performing. The name, Baker was open to interpretation as it could mean "we're cooking up some entertainment" or that we all assumed it as a surname. Like The Ramones. For obscure reference-lovers, a Baker Act was a Florida law which allowed families to admit relatives into mental institutions. Or something like that. Good enough.

After we all married (within two years of each other). We drifted away from each other and I moved up to Jamestown. After a year of living up here, several like-minded friends and I started an improv troupe. Our teacher and leader was Eric, who'd been performing with Comedy Sportz (good national recognition, name reflects nature of the show) in Buffalo. We were not an extension of them and needed our own name.

I wish I could remember all of the ones we brainstormed, but I can only come up with our first name and our lasting name. Our inaugural performance was under The Bonapartes. I may have come up with this one as it was a street I'd lived on in Long Island. It didn't last any longer than the first night. While it might have picked up recognition at some point, it wasn't indicative of anything we did in our shows and sounded more like a band name. Like The Ramones.

I don't know who came up with our final name, The Unexpected Guests, but this one stuck. Unexpected can relate to the nature of improv, while Guests could be the characters created at each performance. We like it. A lot. The group name has regional recognition, to the point where people screw it up (Uninvited Guests is the most common). Our audiences have also given us acronyms (T.U.G. and The UG). For me, the name works. What do you think?

For the record, I'm not crazy about names like Laugh Riot or Funny Is as Funny Does. I don't like punny names either. I'm not into performing in T-shirts with the name on it or bowling shirts. In TUG, we've adopted black shirts and denim. I love the Second City model of dress shirts and ties - more adaptable than you'd think.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Holiday Road

13 Things I've Learned On This Vacation...So Far (July 12 Edition)
  1. New York State residents are taking it up the hiney with gas prices.
  2. Skyline Chili and White Castle eaten at the same meal won't necessarily kill you.
  3. Using swim-time as leverage against childish misbehavior is effective.
  4. Chuck E. Cheese is where a kid can be a kid and adults can play games for a token apiece like the old days.
  5. A digitally animated film, projected by a digital projector makes for a very nice movie-going experience.
  6. There are good reasons why I don't have a video game system in my house.
  7. Cold Stone Creamery ice cream are okay by me.
  8. Lamb wrapped around an olive garnish tastes good.
  9. Illinois State residents are not taking it up the rear as much as NY Staters when it comes to gas prices.
  10. Two kids in a house is mildly amusing. Four kids in a house is full-blown entertainment.
  11. Togas can be made of just about any kind of material.
  12. Karaoke goes down better at a private party.
  13. Vodka drinks go down better with Karaoke.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Shaq Attack

This one is going out to Makkaio. I don't have a Wordpress account, so I can't comment on your recent post. I'm here to say that I'm with you. Shaquille O'Neal is a grade-A ass. What sucks is that a lot of sports journalists give him a free pass on just about every time he publicly sticks his foot in his mouth. People say he's a goof, a big lovable guy, they quote him all the time. Are the sports journalists so desperate for a personality that they've made something more than what exists here?

It doubly sucks that the journalists openly wonder if Kobe is going to hit back then fill in their own answer that he can't or won't unless he gets a title without Shaq. All of these fellas remind me of the most obnoxious college dorm guys who followed sports and went with the majority rule, no matter what. You know, the Yankee/Duke/Cowboys/Bulls fan?

These guys want Shaq to be the same thing he was six years ago and are sinking with the ship. In my humble opinion, Shaq:
  1. Loves to take credit for a championship when the team helped him get there.
  2. Is not as dominant as everyone would have you believe.
  3. Is a petulant man-child (I know this because I'm one too at times.)
  4. Should shut the "f" up and actually stick with a team for awhile before jumping ship to what he perceives as the next great thing.
  5. Should look in the mirror the next time he wants to criticize someone.
I couldn't be happier that Shaq's short stint in Phoenix (mid-season!) resulted in nothing. I feel a little bad for Steve Nash, because he had no control over how his team traded.

Say Goodnight George.

Mr. George Carlin has left us an interesting body of work to ponder. I was too young to watch and appreciate his stand-up comedy in the 70's. By the time I was in college, I'd grown tired of that medium and, to this day, haven't seen much of his solo work. Looks like I have some homework to do. Despite all of this, I knew who he was and respected him.

I remember Carlin mostly for his work in film. There were 3 roles, in particular, that have stayed with me:
  1. Eddie in "The Prince of Tides" was the New York City neighbor of the protagonist's sister - whose suicide attempt sets the story in motion. Eddie was gay, but Carlin didn't stereotype his characterization. He brought some welcome comic-relief to a pretty heavy story.
  2. Rufus in "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure" guided the boys from San Dimas to their destiny. No huge laughs from Carlin, yet he added weight to this lark of a film.
  3. Frank in "Outrageous Fortune". There was a brief time in the 80's, when Touchstone Pictures was releasing some damn funny R-rated films. Bette Midler was in most, including "Down and Out In Beverly Hills" and "Ruthless People". This film was her third and lightest entry in the group. Carlin shows up as a relic of the 60's, who helps the heroines out.
Honorable Mention: The Conductor in "Shining Time Station". The guy could do it all...

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Happy Birthday Baby!

I've decided to mad lib a tribute to my wife, the PreppyGirl. The words I added are emboldened:

PreppyGirl box-officed out of bed early in the morning. She was flexible because it was her birthday. She showered and dressed and ate some mother as fast as he could. She wanted to get to the french manicure right away because she knew Galoot would have something patient planned for her.'Oh, boy. I can hardly work!' PreppyGirl said. 'Galoot always gets me a really generous Fredonia for my birthday! 'Galoot said, 'What up?, PreppyGirl!' when he saw her. 'Are you all ready for your birthday minivan?' 'Of course, Galoot!' PreppyGirl said gently. 'Here it is!' Galoot said, and opened the closet door to reveal the biggest yogurt PreppyGirl had ever seen. 'Wow, thanks, Galoot!' she exclaimed. 'This is the most lovely birthday ever!'

Monday, June 23, 2008

Tag Day

Miss Julia at In Java has tagged me for today's post.

My ex...'s all live in Texas. Not really. A few of them are in Florida and I haven't spoken to them in over ten years. One college ex is a doctor in Michigan.

Maybe I should... go to the chiro seeing as my torso has been twisted like an "S" since Saturday night.

I love... my family more than ever.

People would say... I'm a handsome sumbitch. And they'd be right.

I don't understand... people who choose to label themselves, then live by the inherent stereotypes - despite what they might feel, learn or know to the contrary.

When I wake up in the morning... I gotta poop. (2 posts in a row about going brown.)

I lost... my high school class ring a long time ago.

Life is full of... doors which open and close.

My past is something... I've definitely learned from.

I get annoyed when... drivers don't use their turn signals and cut me off.

Parties are... overrated. Especially political parties. See "I don't understand..."

I wish... that the powers that be in this town would realize that some quality of life issues could be addressed with a little forethought. Unfortunately, the ones with influence continue to keep their heads in the sand and mostly serve the folks who don't want anything to change.

Dogs... can leave a film on your hand once they've nosed you.

Cats... make good pets if they're raised like dogs.

Tomorrow... is the first day of the rest of my life. Maybe your's too.

I have a low tolerance for... Sean Combs.

If I had a million dollars... I'd pay off the cars, student loan and house. Then I'd figure out what to do with the rest.

I'm totally terrified of... influential people who are outraged when the Supreme Court gives legal rights to Guantanamo detainees, but are delighted when the Supreme Court stops votes from being counted.

I tag PreppyGirl, Princess Slea, Viking Slacker.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Cut Your Hair

There is no delicate way of sharing this.

I was dropping a deuce this morning, when PGirl walked into the bathroom. She stood before me, hands cupped, holding several hanks of hair that resembled a Tribble that hadn't made it through the transporter. She said nothing.

"What is that?", I asked.

"PGirl Jr.'s hair.", she replied.

I looked at the hair again.

"Did it fall out?", I said, fearing that my princess was terminally ill.

"No. She cut it.", she said.

Hearing this, I wasn't exactly relieved as this could mean my daughter was deeply, psychologically scarred.

We're still not sure why the girl did this to herself. For the time being, I'll chalk it up to experimentation. I've had a few hair mishaps myself:
  1. In grade school, I cut some hair off of my bangs, just before class pictures.
  2. Out of 30 or so boys in my graduating class, 27 had some form of mullet going on for their senior pictures. I was in the majority group here.
  3. One Halloween in Florida, about 10 years ago, I was preparing to go to bed. In my jack-o-lantern were several tea candles. I decided to pour water in to extinguish them. Before the flame went away, it shot up through the top of the pumpkin shell and burned off some of the hair where a widow's peak would be. If I had a widow's peak.
  4. In the early nineties I grew my hair out longer than I'd ever before. When parted in the middle, it kind of looked like Bruce McCullough's wig in this video. The only folks, who had haircuts like this were 14 year old skatepunks and some lesbians.
  5. I shaved my ankles one year because getting them taped for basketball was getting to be a pain.
  6. I shaved my legs once in the shower, just because I could. I had a few nicks here and there, but it also uncovered scars I'd forgotten about.
  7. The summer before college saw me attempt my first moustache. It was a Chevron. This survived through an Olan Mills family portrait and my first I.D. card at Central Methodist College.
  8. The Chevron reappeared in 1994 during summer break, 1995 during summer stock and in 1996 during my first professional acting job - also in the summer!
  9. The Chevron's cousin - the Horseshoe, showed up for some acting gigs here in Jamestown, including Helen Keller's pop in the miracle worker and Buffalo Bill. Also appearing throughout adulthood were the Goatee and Moustache and the Chin Strip and Moustache.
  10. I cannot grow a full beard.
  11. My beard and moustache come out red.
  12. The soul patch or "flavor" have also grown on my face.
  13. Don't you dare laugh at this post.