Do it.
You'll feel better 'bout yo'self.
I don't care who...or what you vote for.
Just vote.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The State of Thunder
So. It's almost time to vote...and it's not a big secret as to who I'll be casting my ballot for in the 2008 Presidential Election. I could campaign, but really...I mean...REALLY...who is undecided at this point? Post election, check back so that I might sound off appropriately, but in the meantime, there's universality to consider - and I'll make it as brief as possible.
Am I surprised at the state of the United States? Economical woes, ailing markets, uncertainty and dropping gas prices with the OPEC desire to cut production just in time for the holiday season? Nope. Honestly, is anyone surprised? Even when in need, greed reigns supreme. You think it's all the good eatin' that has made us a nation of gluttons? "Oh, but James, it's not everyone." No. You're right. Only 66%. The vast majority. 2/3 of the U.S. population. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.
Allow me to share.
As Americans, we're seemingly obsessed with an American Dream that is just that: A dream. Our desire to have everything bigger and better, while enjoying it faster...and faster, has made us a nation dominated by inconsiderate, selfish, how-can-I-make-the-most-money-for-doing-the-least- amount-of-work, where's-the-next-party, individuals. Our unwillingness to change during a time of crisis is no longer embarrassing, it's completely frustrating.
Don't mistake me for being unpatriotic. I do believe in the potential of the land, and the hope that this nation provides. However, the fine line between "right" and "privilege" seems to be fading rapidly, and for every inch offered, multiple miles are taken.
Our Jobs - A Privilege Confused to be Right.
The ability to make money is seen as a right, and thus abused due to a growing apathy amongst the employed. In recent times, have you walked into a restaurant, a retail establishment or any business offering customer service and been really impressed with the overall operation? Or, among the few outstanding employees, do you find yourself consistently dealing with people who don't even want to be in your presence? Good service is no longer expected, and it is definitely no longer demanded by employers. Perhaps the apathy has fallen from the top down, or perhaps it has grown from the bottom up...we can probably agree that it's a little bit of both -that's generally the way things work.
Everyday activities such as going to the gym are a constant reminder of how inconsiderate and lazy our society has become. Equipment is abused, disregarded...people will load weight plates on a bar, grease up the bench or equipment chair with their sweat and when they're done, they'll just leave it for the next person to deal with. Sorry to say it, and I do mean that I am sorry to say it: This lack of care, this inconsideration, is a large part of what is wrong with the United States of America. The mess at the gym is the same mess we're leaving for our children and grandchildren... ...environmentally, financially, socially...spiritually.
When I hear Depression Era citizens talk about the past as "a better time," I can't empathize... and I certainly can't disagree. What happened to doing a job to the best of our ability, regardless of our walk in life? As much as I love technology, it seems to have left an emptiness in so many who are now devoid of authentic social interaction. (And seriously, don't get me started on identity theft. Even the criminals from those "better times" had more personality, and were willing to work harder to achieve a goal.) If you scratch the social surface to get down to the soul of the matter, the spiritual neglect of our age is incredibly frightening - it is what I believe to be the root of America's problem...its illness.
My hope for America is simple: Quality over quantity. Let's take the time to do things right, and in everything we do, let's do it to the best of our ability. Let's redefine the line between appropriate and inappropriate social and professional behavior, and begin to once again expect more from ourselves, and the best of ourselves.
Am I surprised at the state of the United States? Economical woes, ailing markets, uncertainty and dropping gas prices with the OPEC desire to cut production just in time for the holiday season? Nope. Honestly, is anyone surprised? Even when in need, greed reigns supreme. You think it's all the good eatin' that has made us a nation of gluttons? "Oh, but James, it's not everyone." No. You're right. Only 66%. The vast majority. 2/3 of the U.S. population. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.
Allow me to share.
As Americans, we're seemingly obsessed with an American Dream that is just that: A dream. Our desire to have everything bigger and better, while enjoying it faster...and faster, has made us a nation dominated by inconsiderate, selfish, how-can-I-make-the-most-money-for-doing-the-least- amount-of-work, where's-the-next-party, individuals. Our unwillingness to change during a time of crisis is no longer embarrassing, it's completely frustrating.
Don't mistake me for being unpatriotic. I do believe in the potential of the land, and the hope that this nation provides. However, the fine line between "right" and "privilege" seems to be fading rapidly, and for every inch offered, multiple miles are taken.
Our Jobs - A Privilege Confused to be Right.
The ability to make money is seen as a right, and thus abused due to a growing apathy amongst the employed. In recent times, have you walked into a restaurant, a retail establishment or any business offering customer service and been really impressed with the overall operation? Or, among the few outstanding employees, do you find yourself consistently dealing with people who don't even want to be in your presence? Good service is no longer expected, and it is definitely no longer demanded by employers. Perhaps the apathy has fallen from the top down, or perhaps it has grown from the bottom up...we can probably agree that it's a little bit of both -that's generally the way things work.
Everyday activities such as going to the gym are a constant reminder of how inconsiderate and lazy our society has become. Equipment is abused, disregarded...people will load weight plates on a bar, grease up the bench or equipment chair with their sweat and when they're done, they'll just leave it for the next person to deal with. Sorry to say it, and I do mean that I am sorry to say it: This lack of care, this inconsideration, is a large part of what is wrong with the United States of America. The mess at the gym is the same mess we're leaving for our children and grandchildren... ...environmentally, financially, socially...spiritually.
When I hear Depression Era citizens talk about the past as "a better time," I can't empathize... and I certainly can't disagree. What happened to doing a job to the best of our ability, regardless of our walk in life? As much as I love technology, it seems to have left an emptiness in so many who are now devoid of authentic social interaction. (And seriously, don't get me started on identity theft. Even the criminals from those "better times" had more personality, and were willing to work harder to achieve a goal.) If you scratch the social surface to get down to the soul of the matter, the spiritual neglect of our age is incredibly frightening - it is what I believe to be the root of America's problem...its illness.
My hope for America is simple: Quality over quantity. Let's take the time to do things right, and in everything we do, let's do it to the best of our ability. Let's redefine the line between appropriate and inappropriate social and professional behavior, and begin to once again expect more from ourselves, and the best of ourselves.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
I Got Nothin...
Really, I just felt like writing. After my last post about the political incorrectness in my birthtown that made me laugh so hard, I thought it better to offer no viral effect for this post. If you noticed the comments from that post...random people searching for Obama and finding me...educating me on why West Plains, Missouri, is named what it is. Honestly, I never knew.
I have no idea what I hope to write about this evening, and the only jokes I have swimming in my head are inappropriate. Semi-blue stand-up material that will never be used. Or politically charged finger pointing. Just not in the mood for either.
So. I thought I'd post a song I wrote a few months ago...I've got music, but I haven't married the two yet. It doesn't have a title.
I've got dreams bigger than the whole of me,
From leather gloves to movie screens
The card that moves me shows a decade times three
Yet that ain't me...it just ain't me.
I'm still stuck somewhere closer to 23...
You know, when I felt like I was 18,
When my dreams were bigger than the whole of me.
Sometimes I imagine that I can't see,
And it might be a better me, honestly
No colors to bleed, or lies to lead
Away from the dreams that are bigger than the whole of me.
Come on, let's sing for the boy who can't see
How to wake from the dreams that are bigger than he
So quiet, please be, to understand completely
You must surrender to a perfect someone...someone else's timing.
I have no idea what I hope to write about this evening, and the only jokes I have swimming in my head are inappropriate. Semi-blue stand-up material that will never be used. Or politically charged finger pointing. Just not in the mood for either.
So. I thought I'd post a song I wrote a few months ago...I've got music, but I haven't married the two yet. It doesn't have a title.
I've got dreams bigger than the whole of me,
From leather gloves to movie screens
The card that moves me shows a decade times three
Yet that ain't me...it just ain't me.
I'm still stuck somewhere closer to 23...
You know, when I felt like I was 18,
When my dreams were bigger than the whole of me.
Sometimes I imagine that I can't see,
And it might be a better me, honestly
No colors to bleed, or lies to lead
Away from the dreams that are bigger than the whole of me.
Come on, let's sing for the boy who can't see
How to wake from the dreams that are bigger than he
So quiet, please be, to understand completely
You must surrender to a perfect someone...someone else's timing.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
The WP - It's in Missouri, Yo.
All Muslims on the run,
You know I've got a gun,
The Zizzers are #1!
West Plains, here I come,
Right back where I started from.
We'll stop Obama cold,
We'll vote for someone Old,
Rollin' down Preacher Roe! (blvd.)
West Plains, here I come,
Right back where I started from.
Oh West Plaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnssssssssssssss.
Here I COOOOMME!
Could I be ANY prouder to be from this small American town?
You know I've got a gun,
The Zizzers are #1!
West Plains, here I come,
Right back where I started from.
We'll stop Obama cold,
We'll vote for someone Old,
Rollin' down Preacher Roe! (blvd.)
West Plains, here I come,
Right back where I started from.
Oh West Plaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnssssssssssssss.
Here I COOOOMME!
Could I be ANY prouder to be from this small American town?
It's always nice to know that you can go home to experience world-class bigotry.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
If You're Coming From facebook...
...scroll on down for the information, or just save yourself some time and click on my name.
James Sheldon
However, this entry is about the stock market. Thus the red...for the color of the market these days. You know, I've waited a long time to be able to afford some stock, and hot diggity, I'm buyin' some on Friday. I'm confident the market isn't going to crash, but if it does, it's not like I won't have spent more on an overpriced dinner in NYC before.
What am I buying? Well. Let's just say it's iconoclast in American culture. That the next 5 years should let me know how wise my investment is, and the following 10 should afford the plastic surgery that I've longed desired. (Yep. Butt implants.) And there is another company that should benefit from the future of alternative and renewable energy that is selling cheap, so I think I'll begin to slightly diversify.
Anyone else investing in the downtrodden market? It's got kind of a fun, Grapes of Wrathy feel, doesn't it? (C'mon, what am I supposed to do, be depressed like the economy? I did the depression thing in college. For me, it's the best of times even IN the worst of times...yes, I know that's from A Tale of Two Cities. Hot diggity. And one more time - hot... ...diggity. No doubt.)
James Sheldon
However, this entry is about the stock market. Thus the red...for the color of the market these days. You know, I've waited a long time to be able to afford some stock, and hot diggity, I'm buyin' some on Friday. I'm confident the market isn't going to crash, but if it does, it's not like I won't have spent more on an overpriced dinner in NYC before.
What am I buying? Well. Let's just say it's iconoclast in American culture. That the next 5 years should let me know how wise my investment is, and the following 10 should afford the plastic surgery that I've longed desired. (Yep. Butt implants.) And there is another company that should benefit from the future of alternative and renewable energy that is selling cheap, so I think I'll begin to slightly diversify.
Anyone else investing in the downtrodden market? It's got kind of a fun, Grapes of Wrathy feel, doesn't it? (C'mon, what am I supposed to do, be depressed like the economy? I did the depression thing in college. For me, it's the best of times even IN the worst of times...yes, I know that's from A Tale of Two Cities. Hot diggity. And one more time - hot... ...diggity. No doubt.)
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
A Helpful Manipulation
Have you ever wanted to manipulate me?
Don't answer that.
But please...do it.
No doubt, many of you are familiar with IMDB or the professional subscription version, IMDB PRO. The latter is what I use for vast amounts of pertinent information - Business news, development news, learning the fact that Beverly Hills Chihuahua reigned supreme at the Box Office this weekend, as well as on Monday and Tuesday...seriously, folks, I can kind of understand why anyone might vote for either presidential candidate, but really...? 30-plus million over three days for that steaming pile left by CG-FX Chihuahua's? I digress.
I need you all to manipulate me via IMDB by taking your little cursor hand, rubbing my name below and giving it a click.
James Sheldon
Oh wow. That felt nice. Thank you. I had a little kink in my spine, but now I'm slouching over the computer much straighter. I'll be adding some new pictures in the near future, but for the time being I can't get the old one down without paying more.
So. Why do this?
There is a scale system within the professional version of the site that is known as the StarMeter. The star meter is based on page hits. For example, as you can see below, Paul Newman passed away recently, so last week he was #1 on the StarMeter. Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett Johannson were also way up there because they got hitched, and the news broke. Making sense?
I once peaked at 35,xxx. Considering the millions of people in the database, that's almost satisfying as an "undiscovered." So, why manipulate it? I'm about to start submitting for agency and management meetings, because I've recently parted ways with my representation, and I'm on the hunt for some new people. Those people will undoubtedly look to see where I'm floating on the StarMeter - dumbest, most illogical thing ever, but such is the business. We all understand this because Beverly Hills Chihuahua was #1 at the Box Office.
And I won't hate you for sending the link to friends, or checking it out daily for the next month or so...even multiple times daily. To repay you, I promise that anything you ever see me in, I won't suck. If you didn't see my tour de force in LARVA, it can be rented at Blockbuster. Though most of my scenes were cut before we shot them, I still open the sucker and die while making out in the backseat of a car. Cool, huh?
Don't answer that.
But please...do it.
No doubt, many of you are familiar with IMDB or the professional subscription version, IMDB PRO. The latter is what I use for vast amounts of pertinent information - Business news, development news, learning the fact that Beverly Hills Chihuahua reigned supreme at the Box Office this weekend, as well as on Monday and Tuesday...seriously, folks, I can kind of understand why anyone might vote for either presidential candidate, but really...? 30-plus million over three days for that steaming pile left by CG-FX Chihuahua's? I digress.
I need you all to manipulate me via IMDB by taking your little cursor hand, rubbing my name below and giving it a click.
James Sheldon
Oh wow. That felt nice. Thank you. I had a little kink in my spine, but now I'm slouching over the computer much straighter. I'll be adding some new pictures in the near future, but for the time being I can't get the old one down without paying more.
So. Why do this?
There is a scale system within the professional version of the site that is known as the StarMeter. The star meter is based on page hits. For example, as you can see below, Paul Newman passed away recently, so last week he was #1 on the StarMeter. Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett Johannson were also way up there because they got hitched, and the news broke. Making sense?
I once peaked at 35,xxx. Considering the millions of people in the database, that's almost satisfying as an "undiscovered." So, why manipulate it? I'm about to start submitting for agency and management meetings, because I've recently parted ways with my representation, and I'm on the hunt for some new people. Those people will undoubtedly look to see where I'm floating on the StarMeter - dumbest, most illogical thing ever, but such is the business. We all understand this because Beverly Hills Chihuahua was #1 at the Box Office.
And I won't hate you for sending the link to friends, or checking it out daily for the next month or so...even multiple times daily. To repay you, I promise that anything you ever see me in, I won't suck. If you didn't see my tour de force in LARVA, it can be rented at Blockbuster. Though most of my scenes were cut before we shot them, I still open the sucker and die while making out in the backseat of a car. Cool, huh?
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Newman's Own
I felt it was necessary to offer a few thoughts on the passing of Paul Newman...
I remember saying to Kristi a few weeks ago, "Baby, Paul Newman is probably going to die soon." When it came down to brass tacks, this guy put his money where his mouth was.
I remember saying to Kristi a few weeks ago, "Baby, Paul Newman is probably going to die soon." When it came down to brass tacks, this guy put his money where his mouth was.
How many realize that this guy took out a full page ad after feeling he performed poorly in a film...apologizing to audience members, and basically promising the best was yet to come.
Maybe it'll help to explain that my two computers are named Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid.
Maybe it'll help to explain that a career like Paul Newman's is why people like me happily continue to struggle and fight.
So. Here's to you, Butch, Luke, Hud, Fast Eddie - it has been, and will always be a pleasure to view your work, and continue to enjoy your legacy.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Jury Ransom
Truly, why don't they just call it what it is...? A civic duty?
Kristi has been stuck on a trial for nearly two weeks. They were to deliberate last Friday, which was bumped to Monday and has been extended until Tuesday. (Tomorrow) They were then informed by the judge that depending on what they decide, they may have to be retained. Seriously, it's gonna go two weeks. And what will this jury of "peers" be awarding? Millions. Fortunately, they pay $15/day for service in Los Angeles, so that'll definitely make up for what she's lost at work...heck, I'm a little concerned that it might bump us into the next tax bracket.
Here's where I usually complain about being a two income family paying two-times in rent what most people pay for a mortgage, etc. But you know, it's a small price to pay for livin' in the good ole U.S.A. So long as the LSU Tigers keep winning, and Tony LaRussa's contract comes closer to an end, I'm a pretty satisfied fella.
Kristi has been stuck on a trial for nearly two weeks. They were to deliberate last Friday, which was bumped to Monday and has been extended until Tuesday. (Tomorrow) They were then informed by the judge that depending on what they decide, they may have to be retained. Seriously, it's gonna go two weeks. And what will this jury of "peers" be awarding? Millions. Fortunately, they pay $15/day for service in Los Angeles, so that'll definitely make up for what she's lost at work...heck, I'm a little concerned that it might bump us into the next tax bracket.
Here's where I usually complain about being a two income family paying two-times in rent what most people pay for a mortgage, etc. But you know, it's a small price to pay for livin' in the good ole U.S.A. So long as the LSU Tigers keep winning, and Tony LaRussa's contract comes closer to an end, I'm a pretty satisfied fella.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
September 2nd, And a Few Thoughts
Welcome to the obstacle course...
Any tennis fans? I really like Rafa Nadal. Great sportsman, great athlete, I dig the way people dig him, but his left arm is so much bigger than his right, it honestly bothers me a bit.
I think Roger Federer is one of the few players that doesn't annoy me with a grunt...or even worse...the "ehhhhhhhhh..." that people so frequently use these days. Thanks, Monica Seles. Thanks for breaking the tennis sound barrier.
My Grandmother, whom I adore, called me the other night and it seemed she wanted to chat politics. (My Grandfather was a staunch Democrat, and me, a member of the Young Republicans Club - we would have great political arguments. I never knew what he was laughing about until I entered adulthood. That being said, I usually vote a nice mix of parties - and claim independence from party registry.) So, Grandmother is really diggin' on Barack Obama. I can't disagree with her vibe. Mentioning that, and the fact that I've given a few bucks to the "no special interest $$" campaign that the Obama camp has pledged allegiance to, she asked me for an address so that she might donate as well. Make no mistake people - there are those of us who are willing to believe that even without ALL of the answers, there's more influence in hope and the power of positive thinking than there is in continued war against terror. Quite frankly, another year of a regime similar to Dubya's is terrorizing!
Just finished a screenplay. At this point, it's tentatively titled, "Dead To Me" . It was fun and very challenging to write, and hopefully fun and less challenging to read. I consider it my Neo-Spaghetti Western. 120 pages, juiced with 186 scenes. Delicious.
My St. Louis Cardinals (yes, I own them) have fallen apart. I don't even want to check tonight's score. The door has been open over the past few weeks, and they've just stood outside like a confused teenager hoping to ask a girl out...doin' nothin'. This should do it for LaRussa in the city of St. Louis. Maybe we can go get Bobby Valentine from Japan.
Here's something I bet you didn't know. I tried out for MLB this summer. MLB as in Major League Baseball. The only mistake I felt I made in the tryout was listing my actual age on my information card. I bet a lot of you peeps didn't even know I liked baseball that much, eh? Well. It's true. I was the 2nd oldest of the 250+ players that showed to the open try-out. My day consisted of running and throwing. I smoked the kid I ran against, but didn't run my best. And my throws from outfield to home lacked the velocity I hoped for. To say the least, I was disappointed in my overall performance, but thought I still might be asked to scrimmage - I wasn't. I out performed the vast majority of the outfielders there, but couldn't remember one detail from my days of competitive athleticism. Will I go back? You bet Jurassic. Why? What's the point of setting fitness goals if you don't use your potential? If you're only interested in the way you look, you might as well simplify life and get a job as a mannequin. And how old will I be next time around? 24. ... ...24.
Dru and Chloe started another year of school, and with their advancement, we've advanced their punishments. To be honest, these two kids are so outstanding they're rarely punished. And now, Kristi and I have to nitpick to find anything to punish in the first place; however, I never like finding things in the carpet, day-old grits for example, as I'm lying down for a little rest. We also have issues with some house rules - so...new punishment? Push-ups. The most beautiful thing about it, they reluctantly love it. They'll act truly bummed when I say, "Give me 10 push-ups," but you can tell they love the physical challenge...and the Boy/Girl vs. Gravity.
Any tennis fans? I really like Rafa Nadal. Great sportsman, great athlete, I dig the way people dig him, but his left arm is so much bigger than his right, it honestly bothers me a bit.
I think Roger Federer is one of the few players that doesn't annoy me with a grunt...or even worse...the "ehhhhhhhhh..." that people so frequently use these days. Thanks, Monica Seles. Thanks for breaking the tennis sound barrier.
My Grandmother, whom I adore, called me the other night and it seemed she wanted to chat politics. (My Grandfather was a staunch Democrat, and me, a member of the Young Republicans Club - we would have great political arguments. I never knew what he was laughing about until I entered adulthood. That being said, I usually vote a nice mix of parties - and claim independence from party registry.) So, Grandmother is really diggin' on Barack Obama. I can't disagree with her vibe. Mentioning that, and the fact that I've given a few bucks to the "no special interest $$" campaign that the Obama camp has pledged allegiance to, she asked me for an address so that she might donate as well. Make no mistake people - there are those of us who are willing to believe that even without ALL of the answers, there's more influence in hope and the power of positive thinking than there is in continued war against terror. Quite frankly, another year of a regime similar to Dubya's is terrorizing!
Just finished a screenplay. At this point, it's tentatively titled, "Dead To Me" . It was fun and very challenging to write, and hopefully fun and less challenging to read. I consider it my Neo-Spaghetti Western. 120 pages, juiced with 186 scenes. Delicious.
My St. Louis Cardinals (yes, I own them) have fallen apart. I don't even want to check tonight's score. The door has been open over the past few weeks, and they've just stood outside like a confused teenager hoping to ask a girl out...doin' nothin'. This should do it for LaRussa in the city of St. Louis. Maybe we can go get Bobby Valentine from Japan.
Here's something I bet you didn't know. I tried out for MLB this summer. MLB as in Major League Baseball. The only mistake I felt I made in the tryout was listing my actual age on my information card. I bet a lot of you peeps didn't even know I liked baseball that much, eh? Well. It's true. I was the 2nd oldest of the 250+ players that showed to the open try-out. My day consisted of running and throwing. I smoked the kid I ran against, but didn't run my best. And my throws from outfield to home lacked the velocity I hoped for. To say the least, I was disappointed in my overall performance, but thought I still might be asked to scrimmage - I wasn't. I out performed the vast majority of the outfielders there, but couldn't remember one detail from my days of competitive athleticism. Will I go back? You bet Jurassic. Why? What's the point of setting fitness goals if you don't use your potential? If you're only interested in the way you look, you might as well simplify life and get a job as a mannequin. And how old will I be next time around? 24. ... ...24.
Dru and Chloe started another year of school, and with their advancement, we've advanced their punishments. To be honest, these two kids are so outstanding they're rarely punished. And now, Kristi and I have to nitpick to find anything to punish in the first place; however, I never like finding things in the carpet, day-old grits for example, as I'm lying down for a little rest. We also have issues with some house rules - so...new punishment? Push-ups. The most beautiful thing about it, they reluctantly love it. They'll act truly bummed when I say, "Give me 10 push-ups," but you can tell they love the physical challenge...and the Boy/Girl vs. Gravity.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Summer Adventure
I'm happy to report that I've had no time to put the fingers to the keys in regards to blogging this summer. Busy summer, full of family and friend activities, as well as travel and a slice of relaxation for the sake of sanity. Stories, insights, mishaps and complaints to come... ...but right now I have Olympic Fever, so who's with me?
Quickly, I'll admit that I was tempted to blog about the Brett Favre madness that has come to a end. It's nice to see him in uniform...that's all I'll say.
Quickly, I'll admit that I was tempted to blog about the Brett Favre madness that has come to a end. It's nice to see him in uniform...that's all I'll say.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Hoppin'
I'll be all over during the summer, and thought a little update would be appropriate.
That being said, I'm gonna pause and share a little somethin' - somethin' that I read earlier today:
I woke up this morning to watch Empire of the Sun for the first time. Being a HUGE Spielberg fan (please don't bring up the latest Indy installment, I'm still in mourning...) as well as a MONSTER Christian Bale fan, I can't believe I hadn't seen this film before today. Regardless, I caught it on HDNet, bumped from its life in 35mm to HiDef, and it was absolutely gorgeous for a film that is 21 years old. Knowing it was Christian Bale's first leading role I was reading up a bit on America's favorite British superhero. (He's Batman, if you were unaware.) I was informed by the age-old eye to word combination that Mr. Bale was in deep financial duress a few short years ago - even amidst a film career that had blossomed for over a decade. Why bring this up? The last few months have been a wonderful financial struggle...which I pray is coming to an end. Regardless, reading of the struggles of a contemporary that I truly admire, the light at the end of the tunnel seemed more apparent.
SO.
The next few months...I'll be picking up where I left off last year in San Francisco at the Major League Baseball FanFest. Due to the popularity of the game, and the growing popularity of MLB's RBI Initiative (Reviving Baseball in Inner Cities), KPMG, the corporate sponsor, has been booking me right and left to work my hosting mojo - I love them for it. I'll even get to team up with good ole Nicholas Coleman in NYC for the 2008 All-Star Break and MLB FanFest.
If you find me somewhere in transit, I'm always game to connect.
I'll be in Atlanta on Wednesday 11 - Friday 13 of this week. NYC July 10-18, and Phoenix at some point in August for a couple of days. There are dates out here, and stuff may be added after they get a dose of my 2008 awesomeness. In between all these dates, I'll be finishing up Wid Winner and the Slipstream, which I'm more excited about now than when the project began. Got some re-writes from Alex "Sascha" Gaynor this morning, and I got a little excited while reading them. I still owe some video evidence of this project, don't I? As my mom used to say, "Hold your horses."
That being said, I'm gonna pause and share a little somethin' - somethin' that I read earlier today:
I woke up this morning to watch Empire of the Sun for the first time. Being a HUGE Spielberg fan (please don't bring up the latest Indy installment, I'm still in mourning...) as well as a MONSTER Christian Bale fan, I can't believe I hadn't seen this film before today. Regardless, I caught it on HDNet, bumped from its life in 35mm to HiDef, and it was absolutely gorgeous for a film that is 21 years old. Knowing it was Christian Bale's first leading role I was reading up a bit on America's favorite British superhero. (He's Batman, if you were unaware.) I was informed by the age-old eye to word combination that Mr. Bale was in deep financial duress a few short years ago - even amidst a film career that had blossomed for over a decade. Why bring this up? The last few months have been a wonderful financial struggle...which I pray is coming to an end. Regardless, reading of the struggles of a contemporary that I truly admire, the light at the end of the tunnel seemed more apparent.
SO.
The next few months...I'll be picking up where I left off last year in San Francisco at the Major League Baseball FanFest. Due to the popularity of the game, and the growing popularity of MLB's RBI Initiative (Reviving Baseball in Inner Cities), KPMG, the corporate sponsor, has been booking me right and left to work my hosting mojo - I love them for it. I'll even get to team up with good ole Nicholas Coleman in NYC for the 2008 All-Star Break and MLB FanFest.
If you find me somewhere in transit, I'm always game to connect.
I'll be in Atlanta on Wednesday 11 - Friday 13 of this week. NYC July 10-18, and Phoenix at some point in August for a couple of days. There are dates out here, and stuff may be added after they get a dose of my 2008 awesomeness. In between all these dates, I'll be finishing up Wid Winner and the Slipstream, which I'm more excited about now than when the project began. Got some re-writes from Alex "Sascha" Gaynor this morning, and I got a little excited while reading them. I still owe some video evidence of this project, don't I? As my mom used to say, "Hold your horses."
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Couldn't Have Been More Wrong...
The whole American Idol thing...forget I said anything...apparently, America noticed what I noticed about a left hand holding right hand gesturing eye closing knee bending teen...no offense to him, he's got a great voice.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Harry Callahan, Party of One
I got tired of having no picture associated with my blog, so I thought a beastly .44 would suffice. It does make me think of Inspector Harry Callahan...aka...Dirty Harry for those of you unfamiliar...if you don't know who Dirty Harry is, seriously, climb out from underneath your rock, step away from the computer or at least use it to do a little research.
So'z. I'm off to the gym, where my training regimen has been more intense as of late. I've got a goal set for June 14th, and from there I'll set another for August 1st. Bottom line, I'm shooting for optimal health by fall. BUT, before I head off to the gym, I thought I'd ramble about American Idol.
All season I've liked David Cook. In truth, he's probably the first performer that I've enjoyed on the show. Last night during the American Idol finale, he was up against the smooth voiced teen, David Archuleta - you know, the kid who ALWAYS holds the mic in his left hand while gesturing with his right and tossing in occasional knee bends and closed eye vocal riffs? Yeah...him. Well, he was clearly the "favorite" last night, however lacking in diversity and texture he may be...he's 17. Anyway, I feel like I witnessed the first American Idol that was "thrown."
Now, really do I believe that David Cook threw the game? Highly unlikely, but it would just go to prove how smart I think he is. What's one thing all Idol winners have in common? A crap first album produced by an arbitrary label that comes with your Idol winning contract. Look at the biggest successes in Idol history. Though a couple ladies have gone on to success, Clarkson and Underwood, no Idol winning dude has done anything worth writing home about. And Kelly Clarkson was already frustrated with the label after record #2...
Looking at Idol success, so far Daughtry has set the bar for the gents. Didn't he finish 4th or something? Maybe 5th? All this is to say that David Cook not winning the competition would be the winningest move for his career as a musical artist. Thrown? Hmmmm...depends on your perspective. At least he'll be able to sign with a label of choice and maybe write some music instead of singing stuff from a can.
So'z. I'm off to the gym, where my training regimen has been more intense as of late. I've got a goal set for June 14th, and from there I'll set another for August 1st. Bottom line, I'm shooting for optimal health by fall. BUT, before I head off to the gym, I thought I'd ramble about American Idol.
All season I've liked David Cook. In truth, he's probably the first performer that I've enjoyed on the show. Last night during the American Idol finale, he was up against the smooth voiced teen, David Archuleta - you know, the kid who ALWAYS holds the mic in his left hand while gesturing with his right and tossing in occasional knee bends and closed eye vocal riffs? Yeah...him. Well, he was clearly the "favorite" last night, however lacking in diversity and texture he may be...he's 17. Anyway, I feel like I witnessed the first American Idol that was "thrown."
Now, really do I believe that David Cook threw the game? Highly unlikely, but it would just go to prove how smart I think he is. What's one thing all Idol winners have in common? A crap first album produced by an arbitrary label that comes with your Idol winning contract. Look at the biggest successes in Idol history. Though a couple ladies have gone on to success, Clarkson and Underwood, no Idol winning dude has done anything worth writing home about. And Kelly Clarkson was already frustrated with the label after record #2...
Looking at Idol success, so far Daughtry has set the bar for the gents. Didn't he finish 4th or something? Maybe 5th? All this is to say that David Cook not winning the competition would be the winningest move for his career as a musical artist. Thrown? Hmmmm...depends on your perspective. At least he'll be able to sign with a label of choice and maybe write some music instead of singing stuff from a can.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Word Play
I haven't had fun with a post in a while...and I'm writing about the financial world at present, so a little break is necessary.
I love when people say words wrong. Growing up in Missouri and with family from bayou country in Louisiana, I thought it was reserved to a few textured U.S. regions. After traveling the United States, including all four corners, as well as the Southwest's Four Corners Region, I've discovered that it is everyone. So, here's a short list, and please, feel free to suggest any I've forgotten.
All time favorites:
1. Probly. (Probably) We're probly gonna go to the store in awhile. As in...it's possible, but not proble?
2. Egspecially. Exspecially. (Especially) Am I the only one who's noticed that people actually say egspecially? Egspecially if you're probly going to the store later.
3. Bob Wire. (Barbed-wire) As if it's your neighbor's name. We put up some 48 inch posts with Bob Wire on the back 40...it probly took us all day. Now, I love Bob, but when him puttin' up wire, well, he egspecially sucks.
4. Excape. (Escape) Yep, this goes hand in hand with egspecially.
5. Supposably. (Supposedly) This is probly my all-time favorite...
6. Expresso. (Espresso) Egspecially a favorite when I go to a small coffee shop and it's spelled wrong in vibrant colors on the arbitrary chalk-board.
7. Libel. (Liable) I'm libel to probly do that there if we can get bob wire, which will supposably help on the back 40.
8. Libary. (Library) Really? Lie-berry? Maybe that's the reason you've never been able to find it in town or on campus..."Is that it? Dang...that's the library...I need the libary...stupid r's."
9. Zuology. (Zoology) Maybe I'm nitpicking, but if it were Zu-ology, it would probly need another o - egspecially if you're supposably talking about the scientific discipline.
10. Realitor. (Realtor) Really. It's Realty. Not to be confused with reality.
Well. That's all the fun I'm allowed for today. Now I must go to the DMV - someone supposably stold my license plates off my motorcylce. I went to the cops and said I thought it was probly Bob Wire, but he must of excaped while I was having an expresso down at the libary while waiting on my Realitor to call me about some property with a back 40. I'm libel to kill that Bob Wire if I ever see him again, egspecially if I find out he's really a Zuologist.
I love when people say words wrong. Growing up in Missouri and with family from bayou country in Louisiana, I thought it was reserved to a few textured U.S. regions. After traveling the United States, including all four corners, as well as the Southwest's Four Corners Region, I've discovered that it is everyone. So, here's a short list, and please, feel free to suggest any I've forgotten.
All time favorites:
1. Probly. (Probably) We're probly gonna go to the store in awhile. As in...it's possible, but not proble?
2. Egspecially. Exspecially. (Especially) Am I the only one who's noticed that people actually say egspecially? Egspecially if you're probly going to the store later.
3. Bob Wire. (Barbed-wire) As if it's your neighbor's name. We put up some 48 inch posts with Bob Wire on the back 40...it probly took us all day. Now, I love Bob, but when him puttin' up wire, well, he egspecially sucks.
4. Excape. (Escape) Yep, this goes hand in hand with egspecially.
5. Supposably. (Supposedly) This is probly my all-time favorite...
6. Expresso. (Espresso) Egspecially a favorite when I go to a small coffee shop and it's spelled wrong in vibrant colors on the arbitrary chalk-board.
7. Libel. (Liable) I'm libel to probly do that there if we can get bob wire, which will supposably help on the back 40.
8. Libary. (Library) Really? Lie-berry? Maybe that's the reason you've never been able to find it in town or on campus..."Is that it? Dang...that's the library...I need the libary...stupid r's."
9. Zuology. (Zoology) Maybe I'm nitpicking, but if it were Zu-ology, it would probly need another o - egspecially if you're supposably talking about the scientific discipline.
10. Realitor. (Realtor) Really. It's Realty. Not to be confused with reality.
Well. That's all the fun I'm allowed for today. Now I must go to the DMV - someone supposably stold my license plates off my motorcylce. I went to the cops and said I thought it was probly Bob Wire, but he must of excaped while I was having an expresso down at the libary while waiting on my Realitor to call me about some property with a back 40. I'm libel to kill that Bob Wire if I ever see him again, egspecially if I find out he's really a Zuologist.
Friday, May 9, 2008
ETC
ETC. It fits perfectly into every list that has no end in sight...
...but today, ETC carries far more weight than a summation for additional parts contributing to a whole - these letters represent a name...
Emmett Travis Coleman. Emmett finished up his work on earth today, after giving a diagnosis of cancer one heck of a wrestling match.
"Dad" to one of my best life-long friends, Nick Coleman, and friend to an impressive mix of individuals, including myself, not only was he a believer in dreams, but a believer in the people who dreamed them. I can attest to his generosity first-hand. There simply wasn't an instance in which I visited the man while with his son that we weren't treated like royalty...or perhaps like the celebrities that we hope one day to be. Regardless of the fact that Emmett knew very little about the business aspect of "the arts," he was always interested in learning more and rejoicing in the small successes that Nick and I tried to present. He served as a benefactor while we struggled to make a film in our home state of Missouri, offering us the finances for a place to live so we could use our time to work hard and not get paid for it. And when frustrations would mount, he'd call us away from it - 2 hours down the road, for a round of 18, the shuffle of some cards, steaks and baked potatoes.
His personal story is a gem, and I'm sure Nick will get around to penning it someday. His time served in the military was rooted in a desire for American citizens who "had bigger dreams" than he did - and serving in Special Forces, he brought home the heroic goods...including a back injury that I first noticed in 2004...Nick telling me, "I have no idea what it's from, but he's had it for as long as I can remember." It was grenade shrapnel...from Vietnam. They finally cut it out a couple years ago.
I found it incredibly strange that last night I struggled to find feeling in anything I did. Work. Play. I missed out on a best friend's birthday party for a reason that continually eluded me. I would doze off, only to pop up, not the least bit tired, and when Kristi and I finally went to bed, I just stood in the dark bedroom, confused about my options - go to sleep, or stay awake. Ultimately I knew that something just didn't feel "right." Today I struggled to find direction, and dozed off after lunch, staring...then I woke up this afternoon, feeling different, and Nick called. When I saw his name on the phone, I knew it wasn't good news. I tried to rebuke the feeling by answering the phone like a dork...something I'm so good at...but my will was crushed by the Supreme, and not only am I OK with that, I welcome it. Doesn't mean I like it...but I openly surrender to it.
And I thank God for letting me know ETC.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Blue.
I'm rollin' in my favorite color scheme because today is my birthday.
I'm not real big on birthdays, but I am thrilled that I was able to finish up my work day before 3:00 p.m.
Truth be told, an aunt of a dear friend offered a new perspective on birthdays that I hadn't really thought of before...as a "more often than I prefer" skeptic, you wouldn't think of a Birthday as the holiday of holidays. Yet, being an individual of great faith, it is the anniversary of the first official day that God blessed me with life. And I must say - thinking of it in that way is just grande.
It has been a good day. After midnight I got a little more writing done on a screenplay that's nearing completion. I slept well. I got a little paid writing done this morning. Kristi brought me an Inn 'N Out Double-Double, fries and lemonade for lunch. As I finished up my work Chloe got home from school - I could hear her rocking guitar hero, then she came into the room in the spirit of flea, playing in only her cotton briefs...seriously...guitar around the shoulders and cotton undies. I was a little confused, but hey, there are few bass players that you would hope your daughter would aspire to - Flea is one of them. John Paul Jones is the other. (He's also a trumpeteer, that Flea) *New Paragraph.
Dru got home and is lying in his bedroom floor with a chair on his face.
It has just been a good day!
I'm not real big on birthdays, but I am thrilled that I was able to finish up my work day before 3:00 p.m.
Truth be told, an aunt of a dear friend offered a new perspective on birthdays that I hadn't really thought of before...as a "more often than I prefer" skeptic, you wouldn't think of a Birthday as the holiday of holidays. Yet, being an individual of great faith, it is the anniversary of the first official day that God blessed me with life. And I must say - thinking of it in that way is just grande.
It has been a good day. After midnight I got a little more writing done on a screenplay that's nearing completion. I slept well. I got a little paid writing done this morning. Kristi brought me an Inn 'N Out Double-Double, fries and lemonade for lunch. As I finished up my work Chloe got home from school - I could hear her rocking guitar hero, then she came into the room in the spirit of flea, playing in only her cotton briefs...seriously...guitar around the shoulders and cotton undies. I was a little confused, but hey, there are few bass players that you would hope your daughter would aspire to - Flea is one of them. John Paul Jones is the other. (He's also a trumpeteer, that Flea) *New Paragraph.
Dru got home and is lying in his bedroom floor with a chair on his face.
It has just been a good day!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
31.
Seriously. It's right around the corner. This Wednesday. 30 didn't seem so bad...but 31? That's really the ability to say, "Hey, I'm in my 30's."
My present this year...getting rid of more "stuff." However, I think I may be investing in these beauties...
I've wanted them for quite some time, and I just noticed they went on sale. I've honestly never seen a baseball shoe that looked so fast. To those of you who have never run in a race, whether down the court, track, field or first base line, certain shoes are faster than others.
The closer a shoe is to being like your bare feet with exceptional traction, the faster it is. Thus the reason you see sprinters in what amount to stiff slippers with spikes at the front of the foot. This baseball shoe is the most similar to that style that I've ever seen, and well...I just gotta have it. And don't argue with me. I'm 31.
Now if I could only decide on a color... ...
Monday, April 14, 2008
Holy Holbrook...Thar's Wigwam's in Them Thar Hills
Have you seen the movie CARS?
So...what about Saturday? Saturday was THIS. Two fellas in the middle of the desert, talking about Tang, Freeze-dried Ice Cream and surrounded by petrified wood, erotic mannequins and horny ostriches. If you were excited about the prospects of a movie about a homemade time machine, it only gets better when you think about this guy:
(I'm all out of order, so bear with as I confuse the days and speak of them in retrograde fashion.)
I was working in the desert this week, and I kept thinking of Lightning McQueen, but more specifically of Doc Hudson (aka Paul Newman).
If you haven't checked out this animated gem, I highly recommend it. I've yet to see a Pixar flic that I didn't enjoy, and because of my sweet spot for motorheads, I really, really loved cars. In fact, the film was about three of my favorite things: Cars, the western American desert and getting off the beaten path.
It's crazy to see and experience the world that existed before Interstate 40 dominated eastern and western travel through the Wild West. Much of what once existed is now found in piles of rubble or as ruins of rock and grout. However, the small Arizona town of Holbrook offers one of the coolest Old Route 66 sites you'll ever see, and when you DO see it, you know immediately how those Pixar dudes scored their motivation to hammer out this, James Sheldon's favorite, Pixar effort. (Maybe if I keep writing Pixar, people will find my blog about Pixar as opposed to the official Pixar site! That would be Pixariffic!)
So, we picked up some montage stuff on Sunday at the Wigwam Motel, and got a little bit closer to becoming a full piece of fabric on Wid Winner and The Slipstream. After Alex (who I'm now calling Sascha) got what he wanted (and you can always tell that he got what he wanted, because he smiles real big and bats his irresistible lashes), we travelled back east toward the world's cultural epicenter, LA. Did I say epicenter? I meant blackhole...
On our way back, I know Sascha Gaynor was hoping for a few more slices of incomparability, and the "betchas" (I betcha) were swirling through the production vehicles as we approached the famous Ghost Town of Two Guns, Arizona. The stop here would become an epic journey across (we didn't know at the time that it was) an old, abandoned portion of Route 66, the historic Route 66 Bridge over Canyon Diablo, as well as include some stellar shots at the old Two Guns Zoo, where I got to do what all actors live for...throw rocks and get sunburned while being photographed...if that sounds sarcastic, let me reitterate...that, to me, is about as close to perfect as a day can get.
So...what about Saturday? Saturday was THIS. Two fellas in the middle of the desert, talking about Tang, Freeze-dried Ice Cream and surrounded by petrified wood, erotic mannequins and horny ostriches. If you were excited about the prospects of a movie about a homemade time machine, it only gets better when you think about this guy:
Don't ya just wanna take a sword and whack his head off?
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Munchkin's Got Some Wheels
Schools are a mess these days...or are they?
I hear stories on a daily basis from Dru (3rd Grade) and Chloe (2nd Grade) about so and so doing such and such...andallthesestoriesmakemom'sjawdrop.
Today Chloe tells a story about dudes on the playground that were offering $90 to drop a cuss word. My first thought: 90 bones? My second thought: Ah, children will lie to extremes for manipulative purpose. A second grader with 90 pieces of scratch...I ain't buyin' it. This however classifies as a tactic developed in the Renaissance Period, and I remember the strategy used on the playgrounds of West Plains, Missouri in the 80s...I had friends willing to drop the F bomb and score enough sodas to go around for the whole gang.
Then comes the story about how she put the smack down on some kid in a foot race, and he congratulated her by calling her a B**ch...I was a bit confused about my reaction to this story...Kristi told me the story...well, it was a Kristi and Chloe tag-team effort. Chloe seemed mildly entertained, but momma hen was less than happy. And me? I couldn't hide my grin. C'mon! Little girl drops the smack in a foot race against a dude? Pops couldn't boast any more pride. Getting called the "B" word is a small price to pay for such glory. Chlo seemed to shake that load off like Cee-Lo on Outkast's Aquemini, but she decided to drop a little salt in the wound of her defeated foe.
After telling teach, the principal apparently got wind of the situation, giving word back that she couldn't do anything about it, and the best thing to do would be to "tell your parents." There are a lot of reasons I'm sharing this...mostly to brag on my daughter...but mainly to accomplish something that I set out to do many moons ago: Disprove the theory of evolution. I've been tellin' you all that things don't change...regardless of the advances in iPodology!
I hear stories on a daily basis from Dru (3rd Grade) and Chloe (2nd Grade) about so and so doing such and such...andallthesestoriesmakemom'sjawdrop.
Today Chloe tells a story about dudes on the playground that were offering $90 to drop a cuss word. My first thought: 90 bones? My second thought: Ah, children will lie to extremes for manipulative purpose. A second grader with 90 pieces of scratch...I ain't buyin' it. This however classifies as a tactic developed in the Renaissance Period, and I remember the strategy used on the playgrounds of West Plains, Missouri in the 80s...I had friends willing to drop the F bomb and score enough sodas to go around for the whole gang.
Then comes the story about how she put the smack down on some kid in a foot race, and he congratulated her by calling her a B**ch...I was a bit confused about my reaction to this story...Kristi told me the story...well, it was a Kristi and Chloe tag-team effort. Chloe seemed mildly entertained, but momma hen was less than happy. And me? I couldn't hide my grin. C'mon! Little girl drops the smack in a foot race against a dude? Pops couldn't boast any more pride. Getting called the "B" word is a small price to pay for such glory. Chlo seemed to shake that load off like Cee-Lo on Outkast's Aquemini, but she decided to drop a little salt in the wound of her defeated foe.
After telling teach, the principal apparently got wind of the situation, giving word back that she couldn't do anything about it, and the best thing to do would be to "tell your parents." There are a lot of reasons I'm sharing this...mostly to brag on my daughter...but mainly to accomplish something that I set out to do many moons ago: Disprove the theory of evolution. I've been tellin' you all that things don't change...regardless of the advances in iPodology!
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Top 5 Funks
Aight.
I said "What Was I Thinking?" was next, but there has been a change in plans. I thought it enjoyable to reminisce about all those times in my life that I've really felt like crap...in doing so, I realize how blessed I am. On average, I only deal with something about once or twice a year.
On top of that, people often ask what I do for a living. Well, I don't know if it's a living, but I get paid for it...I write a lot of articles that often have a "Top 10" or "Top 5" in the title. So. Here they are (and if you feel you remember a time when I was worse than one of these, please remind me). James and His Top 5 Funks.
#5 - Right Now.
February 25th, 2008 - February ??, 200? Let's get this one over with shall we? It started with the son getting the flu last week. We all avoided it. During the Oscar's, however, 75% of our household got nailed with the hackiest cough and cold/flu I have ever experienced. I RARELY get a fever, and last night, I turned our bed into a water bed when that sucker broke at 2:45 a.m. According to my sweet wife, I sat up in my sleep and said, "That's awesome! That's just awesome!" When asked what I was dreaming about, I replied, "A chocolate race car!" That's what you get for watching Chocolat while entering the 5th stage of delirium. (Great flic by the way.) So, for everything this funk has done to our household, the fact that we're now at 100%, a perfect 4 for 4, and especially the fact that it's February 27th, and 83 degrees outside, this unnamed funk takes the honor of #5.
#4 - Young James Lives in an Oxygen Tent
I don't really remember this one. Well, I don't remember the sickness...the oxygen tent, however, is one of my earliest memories. I didn't breathe well as a young'n, and due to some bronchial asthma, my parents took me to the hospital claiming that I wasn't breathing well. A nurse, clearly over-qualified to deal with such nonsense, sent my parents home. I guess it wasn't much later that I began to resemble a blueberry. The folks took me back to the hospital, the doctor was called in, and from what I've been told, ripped the nurse a new one!! Seriously! Don't you KNOW who I am? (If you all could hit that page at least once a day, that'd be awesome for me...) Digressing, I lived in a tent, just like John Travolta in The Boy in The Plastic Bubble.
#3 - Cough = Crap
Worst flu I ever had. I can't recall my age, but I had to be between 7 - 10 years old. Everytime I coughed...I crapped. Simple as that. Yeah, think about that one for a second, and you'll thank your heavenly Father the next time you cough and nothing comes out.
#2 - August Non-Survivor 1994
In the midst of our August 2-a days, aka football practice, I contracted a little something funky. You never want to miss a practice, and especially during August. If you do, then you're not a true "August Survivor." No sport ever thrashed my fitness level, and I was ALWAYS up for the challenge...especially the summer before my senior year. However, one night after practice, with maybe 4 days left in the 2-a day schedule...and about a pound of shared M&Ms and "too much" Fruit Punch Gatorade later...I was owned by viral attack... ...my yack smelled like chocolate and strawberries. Needless to say, no August surviving for me.
#1 - Spring 1995 - The Perfect (Puke) Storm
My folks blew town for a few days, and I remember my brother going with them...we had Friday and Monday off from school. I stuck around for a track meet being hosted that Friday afternoon in Bolivar, Missouri, and my track team was dominant, so there was no way I was missing a meet. My Dad left a note with instructions about a guy coming to fix (or replace) our hot water heater, and that if I needed water, there were several jugs in the refrigerator...if there was an emergency, or I had to turn the water on, the main valve was out in the yard.
Friday afternoon I could tell that I wasn't feeling it during the meet. I attributed my woes to fatigue or a poor performance day, yet didn't realize that my weekend was soon to become the weekend from hell. I dined on corn-dogs after my events (you can see where this is going), and proceeded to plan my stellar weekend with the boys...in fact, I didn't plan on setting foot in our household after grabbing a few clean clothes that night after the meet. By the time I got home, I felt like the walking dead. I remember rolling up the driveway in my 1987 Ford Escort GT, thinking, "I don't feel so great." I called a couple friends to let them know that I was feeling funky, but would come over around midnight after I had time to chill and watch some TV. I dozed off in my parents bedroom watching the tube, and just as planned, popped up right around midnight. No, I wasn't ready to go play...I knew that feeling...welling in my stomach...dashing across their bedroom and into the bathroom for a LAUNCH that would make the space program jealous! I made it to the toilet. Whew. When I came up for a breath, the second wave was waiting for me unexpectedly, and I yacked across the vanity mirror, counter and maybe even got a little into the sink. In fact, there's a good chance that my spew got more distance than I did earlier that day in the Long Jump.
I immediately felt better, although too weak to do anything but lie on the bathroom floor and moan..."Uhhhh. Uhhhhh. Uhhhhh this sucks I'm never eating corn dogs again...Uhhhh." About 15 minutes later, I got up in an effort to clean off the sink and mirror. Have you ever seen a chunk of hot dog stuck to a mirror? Such a thing cannot wait 'til morning. So, I turn on the faucet to get two little shots of water and air. "Please, God, no." All I could think of were my friends having the greatest of times less than a 5 minute drive away...and I'm staring at puke on my parent's mirror with no tangible way out of my predicament. I knew the toilet was good for one flush, so I took a moral victory in that and moved on to a new plan.
I picked up the phone, and called to the party..."Can someone come help me?" Fortunately, Chris Garner (aka G-Funk, and a forever friend), said he would come over to do the things that great friends do...sacrifice. By the time he made it over, I had used the jugs of water to clean the sink and mirror....even busting out the Windex at 1:00 a.m. So, I handed him a pair of pliers and asked him to go outside and turn the water back on (after all, this WAS an emergency), and he attempted to do so with no reluctance. Someone else was there helping Chris, but I can't remember who it was...maybe Tony Lounsberry (another forever friend)...and then things got really strange. After a few minutes, G-Funk comes back in, telling me, "There's a dead body down there." I was so delirious, I didn't even argue. "Ok, I'll check it out tomorrow." Chris hung out for awhile...at least until I felt better...although his view of the murderous Sheldon family had probably changed drastically. Flash forward to the next afternoon, and I found the dead body...some might have called it insulation packed into a 30 gallon trash bag, but "dead body," certainly sounded a whole lot cooler.
I said "What Was I Thinking?" was next, but there has been a change in plans. I thought it enjoyable to reminisce about all those times in my life that I've really felt like crap...in doing so, I realize how blessed I am. On average, I only deal with something about once or twice a year.
On top of that, people often ask what I do for a living. Well, I don't know if it's a living, but I get paid for it...I write a lot of articles that often have a "Top 10" or "Top 5" in the title. So. Here they are (and if you feel you remember a time when I was worse than one of these, please remind me). James and His Top 5 Funks.
#5 - Right Now.
February 25th, 2008 - February ??, 200? Let's get this one over with shall we? It started with the son getting the flu last week. We all avoided it. During the Oscar's, however, 75% of our household got nailed with the hackiest cough and cold/flu I have ever experienced. I RARELY get a fever, and last night, I turned our bed into a water bed when that sucker broke at 2:45 a.m. According to my sweet wife, I sat up in my sleep and said, "That's awesome! That's just awesome!" When asked what I was dreaming about, I replied, "A chocolate race car!" That's what you get for watching Chocolat while entering the 5th stage of delirium. (Great flic by the way.) So, for everything this funk has done to our household, the fact that we're now at 100%, a perfect 4 for 4, and especially the fact that it's February 27th, and 83 degrees outside, this unnamed funk takes the honor of #5.
#4 - Young James Lives in an Oxygen Tent
I don't really remember this one. Well, I don't remember the sickness...the oxygen tent, however, is one of my earliest memories. I didn't breathe well as a young'n, and due to some bronchial asthma, my parents took me to the hospital claiming that I wasn't breathing well. A nurse, clearly over-qualified to deal with such nonsense, sent my parents home. I guess it wasn't much later that I began to resemble a blueberry. The folks took me back to the hospital, the doctor was called in, and from what I've been told, ripped the nurse a new one!! Seriously! Don't you KNOW who I am? (If you all could hit that page at least once a day, that'd be awesome for me...) Digressing, I lived in a tent, just like John Travolta in The Boy in The Plastic Bubble.
#3 - Cough = Crap
Worst flu I ever had. I can't recall my age, but I had to be between 7 - 10 years old. Everytime I coughed...I crapped. Simple as that. Yeah, think about that one for a second, and you'll thank your heavenly Father the next time you cough and nothing comes out.
#2 - August Non-Survivor 1994
In the midst of our August 2-a days, aka football practice, I contracted a little something funky. You never want to miss a practice, and especially during August. If you do, then you're not a true "August Survivor." No sport ever thrashed my fitness level, and I was ALWAYS up for the challenge...especially the summer before my senior year. However, one night after practice, with maybe 4 days left in the 2-a day schedule...and about a pound of shared M&Ms and "too much" Fruit Punch Gatorade later...I was owned by viral attack... ...my yack smelled like chocolate and strawberries. Needless to say, no August surviving for me.
#1 - Spring 1995 - The Perfect (Puke) Storm
My folks blew town for a few days, and I remember my brother going with them...we had Friday and Monday off from school. I stuck around for a track meet being hosted that Friday afternoon in Bolivar, Missouri, and my track team was dominant, so there was no way I was missing a meet. My Dad left a note with instructions about a guy coming to fix (or replace) our hot water heater, and that if I needed water, there were several jugs in the refrigerator...if there was an emergency, or I had to turn the water on, the main valve was out in the yard.
Friday afternoon I could tell that I wasn't feeling it during the meet. I attributed my woes to fatigue or a poor performance day, yet didn't realize that my weekend was soon to become the weekend from hell. I dined on corn-dogs after my events (you can see where this is going), and proceeded to plan my stellar weekend with the boys...in fact, I didn't plan on setting foot in our household after grabbing a few clean clothes that night after the meet. By the time I got home, I felt like the walking dead. I remember rolling up the driveway in my 1987 Ford Escort GT, thinking, "I don't feel so great." I called a couple friends to let them know that I was feeling funky, but would come over around midnight after I had time to chill and watch some TV. I dozed off in my parents bedroom watching the tube, and just as planned, popped up right around midnight. No, I wasn't ready to go play...I knew that feeling...welling in my stomach...dashing across their bedroom and into the bathroom for a LAUNCH that would make the space program jealous! I made it to the toilet. Whew. When I came up for a breath, the second wave was waiting for me unexpectedly, and I yacked across the vanity mirror, counter and maybe even got a little into the sink. In fact, there's a good chance that my spew got more distance than I did earlier that day in the Long Jump.
I immediately felt better, although too weak to do anything but lie on the bathroom floor and moan..."Uhhhh. Uhhhhh. Uhhhhh this sucks I'm never eating corn dogs again...Uhhhh." About 15 minutes later, I got up in an effort to clean off the sink and mirror. Have you ever seen a chunk of hot dog stuck to a mirror? Such a thing cannot wait 'til morning. So, I turn on the faucet to get two little shots of water and air. "Please, God, no." All I could think of were my friends having the greatest of times less than a 5 minute drive away...and I'm staring at puke on my parent's mirror with no tangible way out of my predicament. I knew the toilet was good for one flush, so I took a moral victory in that and moved on to a new plan.
I picked up the phone, and called to the party..."Can someone come help me?" Fortunately, Chris Garner (aka G-Funk, and a forever friend), said he would come over to do the things that great friends do...sacrifice. By the time he made it over, I had used the jugs of water to clean the sink and mirror....even busting out the Windex at 1:00 a.m. So, I handed him a pair of pliers and asked him to go outside and turn the water back on (after all, this WAS an emergency), and he attempted to do so with no reluctance. Someone else was there helping Chris, but I can't remember who it was...maybe Tony Lounsberry (another forever friend)...and then things got really strange. After a few minutes, G-Funk comes back in, telling me, "There's a dead body down there." I was so delirious, I didn't even argue. "Ok, I'll check it out tomorrow." Chris hung out for awhile...at least until I felt better...although his view of the murderous Sheldon family had probably changed drastically. Flash forward to the next afternoon, and I found the dead body...some might have called it insulation packed into a 30 gallon trash bag, but "dead body," certainly sounded a whole lot cooler.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Bear With...I've Got Some Funk
Oh, how I wish it was George Clinton's brand of funk.
I fought hard, and am still fighting, but this "funk season" has been far worse than funk season's past.
I fought hard, and am still fighting, but this "funk season" has been far worse than funk season's past.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
No Eclipse For You!
Last full Lunar Eclipse until 2010. So Cal is under an incredible blanket of clouds. It's this way, hmmm 30 times a year? Way to go, moon, earth and sun...had to line up tonight, did ya?
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Happy Birthday to The Wife
There's only one. She's 28. And it's even rainin' a bit today.
We're going to Portos for a little breakfast, and then we'll see where our fat bellies lead us.
We're going to Portos for a little breakfast, and then we'll see where our fat bellies lead us.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Oh Thunder...
Oh, Thunder, please bring me, please bring me some Thunder...(sung to Barry Manilow's Mandy).
I have a niece that turned 18 today. That's scary. Happy birthday, Kass...if you happen to read this. When nieces and nephews hit that age, you know you're well on your way to Old Fartville. And when your kids hit that age, well, "Welcome to Old Fartville."
Like I said, our softball team got into the W column this weekend, with a rousing 10-4 win. And I had a softball first...I struck out LOOKING, in my first plate appearance. Seriously, I just stood in the box and stared at the ball until I saw something I liked. I think I may do it consistently, because I rarely get anything that I enjoy swinging at. It turned out that making the fella throw strikes early meant that he threw me strikes for every subsequent at bat. At that point, I could pretty much put the ball wherever. All of us for that matter, were putting the ball wherever. We played better in the field, and ran worse on the base paths, but bottom line...we won. You can all breathe now, as I know life couldn't have gone on had we lost another.
The skies are only partly cloudy today, so not a lot of thunder. As a matter of fact, I've been uninspired to write as of late. I used to rip one humorous piece o' prose after another, but it seems all my goods are going to "the man." It's not easy to write for hours a day, and then switch vehicles to write something that everyone would want to read...like a George W. Bush speechification. I just finished writing about Eco Friendliness, and now I've gotta write about vacationing in Savannah, Georgia...and "the man," in this case AOL Travel, has rules for writing...so I can't write, "When you get to Savannah, be sure to look up my friend Jennifer." However, I was once writing about vacationing in Thailand, and I wrote a sentence that went something like, "Awaken every morning to the tranquil sights and sounds of the Wang - it will wash your cares away." Because we all know that the Wang is a river in northern Thailand...
I wrote a new song earlier today, despite my lack of inspiration. Right now it's entitled, "Why Don't You Want Me Mr. Spielberg?" I think I may debut it on Oscar Night, or perhaps at the next Grace Cafe, but it's a gem, fo' sho'.
I'm gonna get back to work, so I can get out for a hike later! 70 degrees and sunny here in SoCal...top that, people in Missouri that own houses!
I have a niece that turned 18 today. That's scary. Happy birthday, Kass...if you happen to read this. When nieces and nephews hit that age, you know you're well on your way to Old Fartville. And when your kids hit that age, well, "Welcome to Old Fartville."
Like I said, our softball team got into the W column this weekend, with a rousing 10-4 win. And I had a softball first...I struck out LOOKING, in my first plate appearance. Seriously, I just stood in the box and stared at the ball until I saw something I liked. I think I may do it consistently, because I rarely get anything that I enjoy swinging at. It turned out that making the fella throw strikes early meant that he threw me strikes for every subsequent at bat. At that point, I could pretty much put the ball wherever. All of us for that matter, were putting the ball wherever. We played better in the field, and ran worse on the base paths, but bottom line...we won. You can all breathe now, as I know life couldn't have gone on had we lost another.
The skies are only partly cloudy today, so not a lot of thunder. As a matter of fact, I've been uninspired to write as of late. I used to rip one humorous piece o' prose after another, but it seems all my goods are going to "the man." It's not easy to write for hours a day, and then switch vehicles to write something that everyone would want to read...like a George W. Bush speechification. I just finished writing about Eco Friendliness, and now I've gotta write about vacationing in Savannah, Georgia...and "the man," in this case AOL Travel, has rules for writing...so I can't write, "When you get to Savannah, be sure to look up my friend Jennifer." However, I was once writing about vacationing in Thailand, and I wrote a sentence that went something like, "Awaken every morning to the tranquil sights and sounds of the Wang - it will wash your cares away." Because we all know that the Wang is a river in northern Thailand...
I wrote a new song earlier today, despite my lack of inspiration. Right now it's entitled, "Why Don't You Want Me Mr. Spielberg?" I think I may debut it on Oscar Night, or perhaps at the next Grace Cafe, but it's a gem, fo' sho'.
I'm gonna get back to work, so I can get out for a hike later! 70 degrees and sunny here in SoCal...top that, people in Missouri that own houses!
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Happy VD (an update)
Remember ye olde days, when STDs were referred to as VDs? And now it's Valentine's Day. In all fairness, Valentine's Day is more likely referred to as V-Day. Either way, maybe it's more than coincidence? I bet there are more STDs tomorrow nation-wide than there are today... ...ewwwww.So, my softball team - STD free! Yep, I'm in the midst of a winter season, and playing on a team called The FundaMentals. We do, in fact, play pretty good fundamental ball. The problem is, we've got a lot of baseball players now playing softball. It's like putting a baseball on a tee and saying, "don't swing unless it's close"...nobody wants to take a walk, and thus, we don't have a win. The entire league is playing for a post season tournament seed, so even if we lose every regular season game, I would feel incredibly confident about the squad we put on the field - even as the worst tourney seed. However, I don't see it happening...I think our bats will heat up on Saturday and we'll knock one into the W column. That's the way it goes for an expansion team.
A couple weeks ago, I played a set at a new venue called Grace Cafe. Appropriate for a dude that has the word GRACE inked into his left forearm. It was hosted by the Glendale Church of Christ, and the environment was fantastic...not to mention the warm reception from a forgiving audience. And who can turn down free Starbucks coffee, a spread of home made cookies and free Wi-Fi? The crowd was mixed from homeless individuals to teenage skaters, and that was a beautiful thing to see. Anyway, I'll shout through this medium the next time one is going down, and everyone can come see me what I do mediocre. Maybe within the next few months, I'll have to get a band together and melt some faces in a Christian environment!
And..........Wid Winner and The Slipstream .......... There's some footage axed into a short reel of images that I've seen. You can take my word for it, it looks amazing, and the stuff still hasn't been touched in the refining process. Needless to say, that's exciting. I'm going to do my best to get a slice of it and slap it on here...create a fanbase for this flic before we even get it finished!
Game, Set and Match! Happy VD!
Monday, February 11, 2008
I Was Workin' on My Bike (A Little Deeper Into the Thunder)
Yeah...I haven't posted anything in a week...and here's the really long version of why. (And my attempt use the word "multiple" as much as possible without it becoming too very annoying.)
I used to be on my mountain bike every day. I remember hitting trails in Missouri, multiple times weekly - riding in the rain, thunderstorms, and that summer humidity that felt like you were riding in a giant mouth. I raced, finished high, finished low, finished like a champ and finished like I had never ridden a bike before.
In the fall of 1997, I bought what amounted to my dream mountain bike frame. We've all got that car, motorcycle, etc. that we dream of owning. For me, I'm a Chevy Corvette guy. I love Corvette racing, and I think I had 8 or 9 multiple-orgasmic experiences in the first 45 minutes of the Petit LeMans I attended in 2005. That solidified my Heartbeat of America. (There's something I bet ya didn't know about me...and maybe didn't want to.) In regards to motos: Harley Davidson Dyna Wide Glide. So, all this explains why I own a Subaru Forester and Suzuki Marauder...and the Subie I think is about to be traded for a Toyota Tacoma 4DR. Digressing...
My dream frame was the AMERICAN made Barracuda (none of that Chinese crap that was made after the company sold and then went belly up) Dos Equis XX Team Racing Frame. (Yes, as in, "When I drink beer...I drink Dos Equis..." sponsored, Barracuda Team Racing frame.)
It's amazing that equipment has a lot to do with a ride...as my forever-good-friend Josh Jones helped me build that beast from frame up after classes one day in 10/97. On my first ride, I rode faster, longer and stronger than I ever had before...
In the summer of '99, I had a choice of my first professional acting gig, and I chose a theatre in Durango, CO. Partly because Durango is a mountain biker's paradise...and partly because...well, I believed Durango was/is to play a serious role in my professional destiny. (I still do...did...that's another blog) I had vacationed there before, and the thought of living there for multiple months just seemed too good to be true. I got my taste for the town and then took an interest in doing some racing in Mountain Bike Country. I actually fared pretty darn well. I didn't have the time to train like I would have liked, but I was certainly a competitor in the circuit known as the Four Corners Cup. Unfortunately, I learned of all this deliciousness too late, and my experience was limited...where were you high speed Internet back then, with your information at the snap of a finger?
Long story longer, the frame has undergone many evolutions...stuff has come off of it, been put onto it...it's had multiple front forks, multiple sets of pedals...I'm hard on those suckers...derailleurs...handle bars, grips, tires, tires, tires, a couple saddles (that's the seat), brakes and so many tubes that I could've built the world's largest tribute to the Michelin Man.
The bike has been to Missouri, Arkansas, Colorado, Florida, Arizona, New Mexico, New York and now California. I have a sexy scar on my right wrist from a chain ring plunging into my skin...and as a matter of fact, many of the scars I have are in some way associated with this beautiful Barracuda.
About a year ago, Kristi got a new bike for her birthday, and I decided to once again overhual mine about 2 months later. I had been collecting new parts for upgrading, yet ran out of money on my way to the finish line. Groceries vs. Bike...if it were just me, it'd be Smack Ramen Noodles and water for multiple weeks to grab the gear, but...
I finally decided to salvage what I could salvage, clean it as if Martha Stewart were peering over my shoulder, and get it back on with the new stuff that I do have. This cleaning started maybe 6 weeks ago...yeah...pretty pathetic, I know, but what was the point of doing it this summer when my leg was busted?
Last week, I bought the one remaining item I needed (a new rear derailleur), and came home to put the finishing touches on a very sweet looking ride. (Nothing like accenting a red, white, blue and yellow-gold frame with a lime green fork.) As I was adjusting the rear derailleur, I had forgotten that I already stretched the new cables with an old derailleur that I tried to salvage...I'm stretching away on cables that don't really have any stretch left to give, coupled with the fact that the new derailleur wasn't properly aligned - that's when I felt all the tension in my shifter die as I was pressing hard with my thumb.
"Please tell me the cable popped..." I thought to myself.
I looked. Nope.
"Well, maybe it came loose at the derailleur...?"
I looked. Nope.
I busted my shifter pod. For the past week, I've been in one bidding war after another on Ebay, trying to find a vintage set of high-quality shifters like I had on this ride. I keep getting hammered by chick/female bidders! What's up with that? Don't they realize that I'm just a nice guy who wants to get back on his bike, and add some scars to his temporary earth flesh? Ebay is brutal, I tell ya.
My only other option is to grab a $19.99 Shimano Alivio shifter, and that would be like taking a shifter knob out of a Toyota Corrolla and putting it into a BMW...ain't gonna happen, ladies! So please, just let me win one of these auctions! Could I get some love from the sistas? Could you all do that mojo intuition stuff you do where you give each other the coldeye* from miles away?
That be that.
*A combination of the Cold Shoulder and Evil Eye.
I used to be on my mountain bike every day. I remember hitting trails in Missouri, multiple times weekly - riding in the rain, thunderstorms, and that summer humidity that felt like you were riding in a giant mouth. I raced, finished high, finished low, finished like a champ and finished like I had never ridden a bike before.
In the fall of 1997, I bought what amounted to my dream mountain bike frame. We've all got that car, motorcycle, etc. that we dream of owning. For me, I'm a Chevy Corvette guy. I love Corvette racing, and I think I had 8 or 9 multiple-orgasmic experiences in the first 45 minutes of the Petit LeMans I attended in 2005. That solidified my Heartbeat of America. (There's something I bet ya didn't know about me...and maybe didn't want to.) In regards to motos: Harley Davidson Dyna Wide Glide. So, all this explains why I own a Subaru Forester and Suzuki Marauder...and the Subie I think is about to be traded for a Toyota Tacoma 4DR. Digressing...
My dream frame was the AMERICAN made Barracuda (none of that Chinese crap that was made after the company sold and then went belly up) Dos Equis XX Team Racing Frame. (Yes, as in, "When I drink beer...I drink Dos Equis..." sponsored, Barracuda Team Racing frame.)
It's amazing that equipment has a lot to do with a ride...as my forever-good-friend Josh Jones helped me build that beast from frame up after classes one day in 10/97. On my first ride, I rode faster, longer and stronger than I ever had before...
In the summer of '99, I had a choice of my first professional acting gig, and I chose a theatre in Durango, CO. Partly because Durango is a mountain biker's paradise...and partly because...well, I believed Durango was/is to play a serious role in my professional destiny. (I still do...did...that's another blog) I had vacationed there before, and the thought of living there for multiple months just seemed too good to be true. I got my taste for the town and then took an interest in doing some racing in Mountain Bike Country. I actually fared pretty darn well. I didn't have the time to train like I would have liked, but I was certainly a competitor in the circuit known as the Four Corners Cup. Unfortunately, I learned of all this deliciousness too late, and my experience was limited...where were you high speed Internet back then, with your information at the snap of a finger?
Long story longer, the frame has undergone many evolutions...stuff has come off of it, been put onto it...it's had multiple front forks, multiple sets of pedals...I'm hard on those suckers...derailleurs...handle bars, grips, tires, tires, tires, a couple saddles (that's the seat), brakes and so many tubes that I could've built the world's largest tribute to the Michelin Man.
The bike has been to Missouri, Arkansas, Colorado, Florida, Arizona, New Mexico, New York and now California. I have a sexy scar on my right wrist from a chain ring plunging into my skin...and as a matter of fact, many of the scars I have are in some way associated with this beautiful Barracuda.
About a year ago, Kristi got a new bike for her birthday, and I decided to once again overhual mine about 2 months later. I had been collecting new parts for upgrading, yet ran out of money on my way to the finish line. Groceries vs. Bike...if it were just me, it'd be Smack Ramen Noodles and water for multiple weeks to grab the gear, but...
I finally decided to salvage what I could salvage, clean it as if Martha Stewart were peering over my shoulder, and get it back on with the new stuff that I do have. This cleaning started maybe 6 weeks ago...yeah...pretty pathetic, I know, but what was the point of doing it this summer when my leg was busted?
Last week, I bought the one remaining item I needed (a new rear derailleur), and came home to put the finishing touches on a very sweet looking ride. (Nothing like accenting a red, white, blue and yellow-gold frame with a lime green fork.) As I was adjusting the rear derailleur, I had forgotten that I already stretched the new cables with an old derailleur that I tried to salvage...I'm stretching away on cables that don't really have any stretch left to give, coupled with the fact that the new derailleur wasn't properly aligned - that's when I felt all the tension in my shifter die as I was pressing hard with my thumb.
"Please tell me the cable popped..." I thought to myself.
I looked. Nope.
"Well, maybe it came loose at the derailleur...?"
I looked. Nope.
I busted my shifter pod. For the past week, I've been in one bidding war after another on Ebay, trying to find a vintage set of high-quality shifters like I had on this ride. I keep getting hammered by chick/female bidders! What's up with that? Don't they realize that I'm just a nice guy who wants to get back on his bike, and add some scars to his temporary earth flesh? Ebay is brutal, I tell ya.
My only other option is to grab a $19.99 Shimano Alivio shifter, and that would be like taking a shifter knob out of a Toyota Corrolla and putting it into a BMW...ain't gonna happen, ladies! So please, just let me win one of these auctions! Could I get some love from the sistas? Could you all do that mojo intuition stuff you do where you give each other the coldeye* from miles away?
That be that.
*A combination of the Cold Shoulder and Evil Eye.
Monday, February 4, 2008
What Did I Say?
A little off on the score...Right on with the prediction.
Best Super Bowl I believe I've ever seen. And there's nothing like a classless coach who says to his team, "we're all about team," and then leaves the field while his defense has to endure one final snap...It always comes out in the wash, doesn't it? Nice, Bill. Nice.
I hate to say it, but the Patriots can blame Giselle Bundchen for the loss...not for her presence...rather, who drinks wine at an NFL football game?
Best Super Bowl I believe I've ever seen. And there's nothing like a classless coach who says to his team, "we're all about team," and then leaves the field while his defense has to endure one final snap...It always comes out in the wash, doesn't it? Nice, Bill. Nice.
I hate to say it, but the Patriots can blame Giselle Bundchen for the loss...not for her presence...rather, who drinks wine at an NFL football game?
Friday, February 1, 2008
Supa Bowl Prediction
Yeah. This idn't (that's right, it's nasty time), gon' be a prediction. This is gonna be a "how to" for the NY Giants. Why? I can't stand Tom Patriot and the creepy Scout leader Belichick. Do I admire them...you have no idea...there has never been a QB - Coach tandem that has brought the thunder like these two.
A coach says, "This is the way it's gonna be," and the quarterback executes the plan and sheperds the sheep...in this case, every player on this team has been "re-educated" on HOW to win. It makes perfect sense. You get great athletes and MAKE them believe, "If you play like this, you will be part of one of the greatest sports teams to ever play...BUT you have to play like this!" You ever hear a New England Patriot trash talk, or smear another player behind their back? This team is buying into a definitive system of "Delayed Gratification," almost as if Belichick has told these guys, "We'll work 'til retirement, achieve more than has ever been achieved, and once we're all done, we'll sit back and enjoy it." It's crazy...(why would I praise my opposition? Fire with fire...own medicine...the way of the Jedi).
Now, how do the Giants win? For starters, they're playing far enough from home, and their host of the greatest fairweather fans in sports. Here's the deal with NY fans. They'll always be fans of their team - die-hard...but they're quicker to boo than they are to cheer - why? 'Cause none of them know how to play football. Trust. Having lived in that city for a few years, I can tell you who has the best understanding of the game of football, and it ain't the residents of NYC. It's the fine folks of the Midwest and South. The best athletes I've ever played against are HERE in California; the athletes having the best understanding of the game, however...the middle of the U.S. and in SEC country... the kids who grew up in NYC and the surrounding area had very little football outlet...so it's not all their fault. Digressing, the Giants playing far from the boo birds is a great thing!
I don't think the G-Men will have a problem moving the ball down the field and putting points on the board. What it's going to come down to is stopping New England on 3rd down. If they can make the Patriots punt 4-5 times, I believe they can win the game. Keep in mind that during the regular season, the Patriots punted on average, 2.75 times per game. That's ridiculous. Yes, they converted several 4th downs, which helps that average. There may be no reason to think they wouldn't try and do the same thing on Sunday, but I believe this game holds a lot more weight to Coach Beli than he'll let on. They won't be taking unnecessary risks vs. the Giants...
In order to stop the Pats on 3rd down, the G-Unit is going to have to blitz, and take Kevin Faulk OUT of the mix...in essence, make him stay in the backfield to block. The corners will have to lock down, and it will be a high risk-high reward play, but I don't see any other way to rattle Tom Brady. That's KEY. As you watch the game, and if it's close...watch how "cool" Tom Patriot isn't when he's not getting all the calls he wants from the officials...Sociopath, party of one!? Now we know the real reason why his son with Bridget Moynahan doesn't bear the Brady name...
I look for Michael Strahan to have a huge day, and I look for Eli Manning to solidify who he is in the NFL. Yeah, people may not like his "Ah shucks" expressions, but since day one, he's always been touted as the more "talented/athletic" Manning QB. If people think Brady and Peyton Manning are dangerous because of their confidence, just wait until they see Eli firing on all cylinders...a guy who has NEVER had the weapons around him that Brady and big brother have. Sure, he may choke and never live up to his potential, but I don't see it...I think he's starting to see the game with the same vision that the greats have had! For Eli and all you Ole Miss alumni, Are you Ready?
Giants 30 - Patriots 28
Story of the year: Eli Wins One After Big Brother...and in New Orleans, the front page will show the whole Manning family and read: FAMILY AFFAIR (with a picture of the Lombardi trophy)
A coach says, "This is the way it's gonna be," and the quarterback executes the plan and sheperds the sheep...in this case, every player on this team has been "re-educated" on HOW to win. It makes perfect sense. You get great athletes and MAKE them believe, "If you play like this, you will be part of one of the greatest sports teams to ever play...BUT you have to play like this!" You ever hear a New England Patriot trash talk, or smear another player behind their back? This team is buying into a definitive system of "Delayed Gratification," almost as if Belichick has told these guys, "We'll work 'til retirement, achieve more than has ever been achieved, and once we're all done, we'll sit back and enjoy it." It's crazy...(why would I praise my opposition? Fire with fire...own medicine...the way of the Jedi).
Now, how do the Giants win? For starters, they're playing far enough from home, and their host of the greatest fairweather fans in sports. Here's the deal with NY fans. They'll always be fans of their team - die-hard...but they're quicker to boo than they are to cheer - why? 'Cause none of them know how to play football. Trust. Having lived in that city for a few years, I can tell you who has the best understanding of the game of football, and it ain't the residents of NYC. It's the fine folks of the Midwest and South. The best athletes I've ever played against are HERE in California; the athletes having the best understanding of the game, however...the middle of the U.S. and in SEC country... the kids who grew up in NYC and the surrounding area had very little football outlet...so it's not all their fault. Digressing, the Giants playing far from the boo birds is a great thing!
I don't think the G-Men will have a problem moving the ball down the field and putting points on the board. What it's going to come down to is stopping New England on 3rd down. If they can make the Patriots punt 4-5 times, I believe they can win the game. Keep in mind that during the regular season, the Patriots punted on average, 2.75 times per game. That's ridiculous. Yes, they converted several 4th downs, which helps that average. There may be no reason to think they wouldn't try and do the same thing on Sunday, but I believe this game holds a lot more weight to Coach Beli than he'll let on. They won't be taking unnecessary risks vs. the Giants...
In order to stop the Pats on 3rd down, the G-Unit is going to have to blitz, and take Kevin Faulk OUT of the mix...in essence, make him stay in the backfield to block. The corners will have to lock down, and it will be a high risk-high reward play, but I don't see any other way to rattle Tom Brady. That's KEY. As you watch the game, and if it's close...watch how "cool" Tom Patriot isn't when he's not getting all the calls he wants from the officials...Sociopath, party of one!? Now we know the real reason why his son with Bridget Moynahan doesn't bear the Brady name...
I look for Michael Strahan to have a huge day, and I look for Eli Manning to solidify who he is in the NFL. Yeah, people may not like his "Ah shucks" expressions, but since day one, he's always been touted as the more "talented/athletic" Manning QB. If people think Brady and Peyton Manning are dangerous because of their confidence, just wait until they see Eli firing on all cylinders...a guy who has NEVER had the weapons around him that Brady and big brother have. Sure, he may choke and never live up to his potential, but I don't see it...I think he's starting to see the game with the same vision that the greats have had! For Eli and all you Ole Miss alumni, Are you Ready?
Giants 30 - Patriots 28
Story of the year: Eli Wins One After Big Brother...and in New Orleans, the front page will show the whole Manning family and read: FAMILY AFFAIR (with a picture of the Lombardi trophy)
Friday, January 25, 2008
Personal Investigation...
In October, someone ganked my credit card digits and tossed a cool $2,350 onto my account through a flower shop in NoHo. NoHo here is North Hollywood, as opposed to North of Houston Street in NYC...Houston in NYC = HOWSTUN...yeah, I don't get it either.
Well, I have no reservations in warning everyone about the poor banking practices of several American entities: CitiGroup, Bank of America, etc...I won't go into the Subprime meltdown and how we're all suffering from it, but bottom line, I got hammered by a thief and then hammered by Citi with a monster interest rate. When I reported the fraud, I was told I wouldn't have to make a payment until the matter was resolved, so as I wouldn't be paying for a stranger's wedding or funeral arrangement, teddy bears, or enough helium balloons to reach far corners of the universe. At that point, I was also told that I'd receive an affidavit that I would need to sign and return.
A couple weeks pass, no affidavit. Then I get a call: "'Why haven't you paid your bill?" I was irate. I explained to the girl what I was told, and she countered by reminding me that I already had "X" amount of legit charges on the card that I should be paying for anyway...and so I asked her to "re-explain" exactly what I was supposed to do. I got the same explanation and then realized... ...I'm done with Citi. Done. I told the unpleasant college student that I still hadn't received the affidavit in order to send back to the people at Citi that matter, and that I hadn't heard anything in regards to the investigation that had supposedly been launched..............
Eventually, everything was "taken care of." I ended up making payments on charges that someone else put on the card, as well as the interest rate hike that I received because they couldn't get the affidavit to me sooner. The money was credited back to my account and my interest rate went, well, from high to higher 22%. Seriously. Done with Citi.
The other day I called to speak to someone about closing my account, and decided to ask, "Hey, how's that investigation coming?" After hearing this "phone superior" inform me that chances are, they "looked into" the charges and when they couldn't get a quick answer they ate the cost, I asked to be connected to whoever had been assigned to my case. Yep. That was the deal.
So, here's what I'm thinkin'...
The people at the "flower shop," are none the wiser, and in truth, I think the flower shop is a front for some local Armenian Mafia - so I'm thinking I may give them a call, or drop by and say, "Where's my order? I ordered 2,350 bucks worth of stuff in October, and it didn't go to the proper place." I'd so like to know how all of this happened...and if I never go, I'll never know. Anyone wanna take a trip over to Blooming Flowers?
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Best Comedy on TV...
...the local Los Angeles news when it rains.
I love being a few miles from the Pacific, and a few miles south of a mountain pass that dumps the white stuff. We get precipitation here maybe 15 days a year, so when it rains, I have to write about it.
It cracks me up to see So Cal residents featured on the local LA news (and that's pretty big news, right? We are Los Angeles), because they don't know what to do when they approach snow on the Interstate, and they're trying to get home. Here's a bit of advice from a Show Me Stater: 1.) Chains for your tires. 2.) Slow down as opposed to speed up 3.) It is the information age; ever heard of checking a weather forecast?
Water starts falling from the sky and people here think they can either out-run the rain, or they have to stop because their tires will lose all potential traction. It's really quite amusing on the LA freeway system, which I compare to an expectant mother (LA), and instead of one, she has...septuplets (LA Freeways). Needless to say, people wanting to go 80+ vs. people wanting to go 60- makes for some interesting automotive disagreements.
So...our local news. Last night, Kristi and I were watching the late edition of our Fox affiliate, and they did a 5 minute feature on an apartment complex in Long Beach that flooded. Seriously, 5 minutes to explain that a contractor didn't finish a job due to illness, and when it began raining, the apartment manager tried covering the FLAT, unfinished roof with a single tarp. Genius. At least it's not more news on Britney Spears.
Not to make total light of the situation. When people wig about the rain here, there is good reason. It keeps coming hard, and everything that burned this summer turns into a river of mud. I don't suppose there's a whole lot that you can do about that, other than get out of the way. Mud coming like an overhead chocolate river will change your landscape quickly...or take a house from 1,000 ft. above sea level to 400 ft. above sea level in a ride to rival all of our area amusement parks. I always find it fascinating (being an individual who believes in Noah, the Ark and the great flood...archaeology tends to agree with Biblical history, you see, vs. the asteroid hitting the planet to wipe out dinosaurs, etc.) to see how rain for just 3 or 4 days can be catastrophic... ...just some food for thought.
Something entertaining to come soon.
I love being a few miles from the Pacific, and a few miles south of a mountain pass that dumps the white stuff. We get precipitation here maybe 15 days a year, so when it rains, I have to write about it.
It cracks me up to see So Cal residents featured on the local LA news (and that's pretty big news, right? We are Los Angeles), because they don't know what to do when they approach snow on the Interstate, and they're trying to get home. Here's a bit of advice from a Show Me Stater: 1.) Chains for your tires. 2.) Slow down as opposed to speed up 3.) It is the information age; ever heard of checking a weather forecast?
Water starts falling from the sky and people here think they can either out-run the rain, or they have to stop because their tires will lose all potential traction. It's really quite amusing on the LA freeway system, which I compare to an expectant mother (LA), and instead of one, she has...septuplets (LA Freeways). Needless to say, people wanting to go 80+ vs. people wanting to go 60- makes for some interesting automotive disagreements.
So...our local news. Last night, Kristi and I were watching the late edition of our Fox affiliate, and they did a 5 minute feature on an apartment complex in Long Beach that flooded. Seriously, 5 minutes to explain that a contractor didn't finish a job due to illness, and when it began raining, the apartment manager tried covering the FLAT, unfinished roof with a single tarp. Genius. At least it's not more news on Britney Spears.
Not to make total light of the situation. When people wig about the rain here, there is good reason. It keeps coming hard, and everything that burned this summer turns into a river of mud. I don't suppose there's a whole lot that you can do about that, other than get out of the way. Mud coming like an overhead chocolate river will change your landscape quickly...or take a house from 1,000 ft. above sea level to 400 ft. above sea level in a ride to rival all of our area amusement parks. I always find it fascinating (being an individual who believes in Noah, the Ark and the great flood...archaeology tends to agree with Biblical history, you see, vs. the asteroid hitting the planet to wipe out dinosaurs, etc.) to see how rain for just 3 or 4 days can be catastrophic... ...just some food for thought.
Something entertaining to come soon.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Evidence...
Just a quick note: I mentioned there would be some Thanksgiving news to come. Here's the Thanksgiving Olds. We went to Missouri. It was Missourific...I wanted to share a few screen captures from the film I've been working on - Wid Winner and The Slipstream. Alex Gaynor, the writer and director, will also be editing this beast and as he's importing the footage into the editing program, he grabbed a few images to boost the morale of we whiny actors.
Kenneth (Alex Wright) giving Wid a little proper life knowledge.
(I remember doing this with Nick Coleman when we pushed into post-production for The Suburban Seven...the longer the film, the longer the process. We had something like 18 hours of footage, and as nice as it would be to "set it and forget it," like Ron Popeil suggests, you just can't do it. Oh, and no, it isn't 1:1...depending on how you're doing it, it can take several minutes for each minute you have, which ultimately amounts to several hours. As far as I'm concerned, it's the most excruciating part of the filmmaking process.)
Anyway, he may kill me for sharing, but I thought it'd be fun for my 3 readers to see a few images while they're raw, with no color correction and not yet in their final aspect ratio. It'll allow a glance into the process, long before the magic. Obviously the image quality won't offer much of an accurate representation as to how rich things will look, but it'll offer a hint.
This is the fella I'm attempting to breathe life into. So, here he is looking pretty pathetic...or...me looking normal. I love the blanket - nice touch.
Rollin' in a sweet Oldsmobile Station Wagon, affectionately known in the story as "The Wagon Brown." That's Alex Wright (Kenneth) in the driver's seat.
Kenneth (Alex Wright) giving Wid a little proper life knowledge.
Erin O'Reilly as Lucy. Struggling with her coffee maker in Chris Tonkovich's gorgeous light.
Nothing like a rainy day in a cemetery.
Check ya later.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Where to Blog Next?
It's time to get rolling again. Working on a few posts that have been archived to present at the appropriate times. I believe I'm going to start hitting on it all...religion, politics...all those things I can tip to offend.
Still working on Wid Winner and The Slipstream and we're about to get rocking on some sweet action in the California desert, maybe in Arizona, maybe New Mexico and maybe back in Kentucky? We go where Alex tells us to go.
As of late, I've completed contractual duties with football.com...yep, right about the time my LSU Tigers were puttin' the super-smack on that pansy Big 10 squad from Ohio. Personally, I think the Bobcats of Ohio may have offered a better contest than the Buckeyes of Ohio State. Fo' Sho', I'm already excited to see what happens next year, when the Bayou Bengals aren't supposed to do anything... ...
As of now, I'm patiently waiting for this WGA strike to come to a close...SAG (of which I'm a member) will be following shortly if our peeps and the Producers can't come to some new and better understandings in regards to the lucrative dinero that is flowing forth from the 21st Century idiot box.
Presently, I'm still doing some writing for CKMG and thus have contributions for some pretty high profile clientele, yet you'll never see my name associated with it...which is fine by me. Absolutely fine. I am helping one of the CK project managers out with his corporate blog: green eggs and planet - I highly recommend checking it out. Other than that, yep, life has been that exciting :-) It's good, we need to renew from time to time.
Finally, sorry for shotty post-work I've done over the winter. Check back daily or every other day, and if I don't have something to offer more entertaining than this, something's very wrong, or something's very right!
By the way, if any of my two readers have any questions as to what I do, or why I do...or am I mostly crazy - please, feel free to ask.
Still working on Wid Winner and The Slipstream and we're about to get rocking on some sweet action in the California desert, maybe in Arizona, maybe New Mexico and maybe back in Kentucky? We go where Alex tells us to go.
As of late, I've completed contractual duties with football.com...yep, right about the time my LSU Tigers were puttin' the super-smack on that pansy Big 10 squad from Ohio. Personally, I think the Bobcats of Ohio may have offered a better contest than the Buckeyes of Ohio State. Fo' Sho', I'm already excited to see what happens next year, when the Bayou Bengals aren't supposed to do anything... ...
As of now, I'm patiently waiting for this WGA strike to come to a close...SAG (of which I'm a member) will be following shortly if our peeps and the Producers can't come to some new and better understandings in regards to the lucrative dinero that is flowing forth from the 21st Century idiot box.
Presently, I'm still doing some writing for CKMG and thus have contributions for some pretty high profile clientele, yet you'll never see my name associated with it...which is fine by me. Absolutely fine. I am helping one of the CK project managers out with his corporate blog: green eggs and planet - I highly recommend checking it out. Other than that, yep, life has been that exciting :-) It's good, we need to renew from time to time.
Finally, sorry for shotty post-work I've done over the winter. Check back daily or every other day, and if I don't have something to offer more entertaining than this, something's very wrong, or something's very right!
By the way, if any of my two readers have any questions as to what I do, or why I do...or am I mostly crazy - please, feel free to ask.
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