Backstage Scene

Susan G Komen

2012-02-07T10:26:00.000-08:00

Abortion is a hot button for millions of people across the world. It has been an even hotter issue in the United States. Since the 1973 decision of Roe v. Wade, which so many thought finally settled the issue, it has gone from rhetoric and cold war to guerilla warfare.

According to the New York Times and the National Abortion Foundation, since 1977 there have been more than a dozen attempted murders, almost 400 death threats, 153 incidents of Assault and Battery, and 3 kidnappings, all committed against clinic workers and doctors. In the same period there have been a staggering number of attacks on property as well. The same sources report over 40 bombings, 1733 acts of arson, almost 100 attempted bombings or arsons, 619 bomb threats, 1630 acts of trespass, 1264 acts of vandalism, 100 "stink bomb" attacks, and since 1998 a stunning 655 bioterror threats have been made.
All of these acts are being and have been committed by people who claim they are fighting for the Right to Life; how they are able to reconcile that ideology with the taking of lives themselves, acts of violence and destruction remains an utter mystery. They are either a very small group of dangerously disturbed sociopaths, with remarkable resources behind them: or much more likely, a large number of zealots and ideologues, spurred on by the organizations that support anti-abortion legislation.

More than 30 years has passed since Roe v. Wade, and yet the adherents of "pro life' will simply not let go. I applaud their conviction and belief; provided that is they respect mine as well, and don't try to change my mind by assault. In fact, I agree to a limited extent with some of their points. I do not support the idea of abortion as birth control. If you choose to have sex without contraception, you pay for the abortion. You don't wait until the third trimester to have it done, either. Not and have it covered by insurance, anyway.

Even so, those two policies need to be applied intelligently. If you are raped or a victim of incest, you probably had little chance to request a condom be used. If you are in the third trimester and a doctor discovers a major health issue threatening the mother, the fetus, or both, it is then a medical necessity. In every instance the final choice belongs to one person, and one person only in my opinion; the mother.

Today we are faced with yet another glaring example of how willing the pro-life adherents seem to be to require everyone else to abide by the rules they want to enforce, while at the same time ignoring and deliberately breaking laws and rules themselves. I refer here to the decision by the Susan G. Komen Foundation to revoke funding for Planned Parenthood.

According to their initial press release on January 31st 2012, Susan G. Komen Foundations "recently adopted policy changes" forbade funding of any agency under investigation. Rep. Cliff Stearns (R Florida) had sent a letter to Planned Parenthood earlier in January 2012, informing them he was launching an investigation into violations of federal funding statutes. Several things about the timing of this were odd. Karen Handel, a staunchly anti-abortion politico, was hired as VP of Public Policy in April 2011 . On March 31st 2011 the Grant Policies and Procedures published by the foundation make no mention at all of revoking funding for a grantee who is under investigation. I can find no published record showing when in fact the foundation made these changes to policy. According to a comment by Karen Handel, these changes were approved in November 2011. However I see no such changes on file.

It seems obvious then that Karen Handel was the driving force here. Her own letter of resignation submitted on Feb 6 2012 admits this: “I am deeply disappointed by the gross mischaracterizations of the strategy, its rationale, and my involvement in it. I openly acknowledge my role in the matter and continue to believe our decision was the best one for Komen’s future and the women we serve.” Yet this is in direct contradiction to the initial statement by Handel, that she "had no involvement" in the policy changes. She also uses the word "strategy" here. If the funding was only being revoked because policy changes required it, how was it a strategy? The investigation by Stearns also reeks of collusion.

This also brings up another point. The Sarbanes Oxley act applies to non-profits and charities as well. If in fact written procedure required revoking funds to Planned Parenthood, that funding could not be restored until such time as the policy was revoked or amended. Yet according to the latest press release, the Foundation reversed its suspension of funding first, then announced it would revise the purported policy. This is not the proper order under non-profit procedures. The board would have to meet, agree to the revisions, write and approve them by vote, and only then could funding be restored. I see no indication of such meetings prior to the latest announcement.

To me the only way this becomes an open and honest examination is if Rep Stearns now requests an investigation into the Susan G. Komen Foundation. Let's see if Rep. Stearns is a true Christian, doing unto others as he would have done unto him. Or is he in fact just like all the radical right-wing anti abortion members, who will throw aside all laws, ethics and morals in order to enforce their doctrines and beliefs on the rest of us.

Politics and Pride

2012-02-04T10:41:00.000-08:00

Recently I have been watching the election coverage with more than my usual scrutiny. I have always read voting guides, the analysis of ballot measures pro and con, as well as looking at the things people running for office are saying. I have almost never voted American Independent, though in 1980 after Ted Kennedy's faux pas I was left with Jerry Brown and Carter, both of whom I thought were idiots; I voted for Anderson. In 1984 I anted John Glenn; when left with Mondale I actually thought about voting for Angela Davis, just to say I had done so; I voted for Mondale to oppose Reagan, rather than because I actually wanted him. Or the Democrats for that matter.

So here we are today; the Republican party is showing it's usual collection of verbose and divisive candidates. Almost all of whom I consider to be either complete morons like Rick Perry and Michelle Bachman, dishonest power grabbers like Romney, even more dishonest and erratic Newt Gingrich... and lets face it people; America would have to hide blushing behind our flag for four years if we chose a president named "Newt". I liked Jon Huntsman. In two interviews he was intelligent, rational, and seemed concerned over the economy. Obviously they were not going to allow him to run.

I am not oppose to Obama. I voted for him, and not just because he was not republican, or because he was black. He spoke well, I believed his stated intentions, and in spite of all the detractors, he has done a superb job. He has managed in the face of constant opposition from the republicans, combined with the now-typical laziness and lack of confrontation of the democrats, to turn around in two years what the Cheney/Rumsfeld/Bush trinity screwed up over 8 years.

Don't kid yourselves my republican friends; Cheney and Rumsfled were the power brokers there. Bush was the sock-puppet front man. Cheney and Rumsfeld got two wears going, killed thousands of our men and women, ignored hurricane Katrina until it devestated Luisiana, and then blamed FEMA, after that very administration had hamstrung them years before. They waved a paper tiger around so vehemently after 9/11 that frightened people allowed them to quash civil liberties, freedom of expression, legal and civil rights... all by waving the boogie man of invasion by Iraq or Afghanistan. Learn geography! Afghanistan is landlocked; Iraq's navy doesn't have enough men to invade the Superbowl. Plus the fatc that they are barely a presence on the Persian Gulf, and would have to violate a lot of other countries territory to sail over here. Neither is going to invade the US by plane; unless you think the former administration was actually so stupid they would miss 500 charter flights coming out of the Middle East.

No, you folks ran like Chicken Little. I'm not talking about just Republicans here, or the religious Right, or Liberal Democrats. Every single person who didn't scream at their Congressman or Senator. No one is going to invade the US physically. We have nearly 3 MILLION troops, counting active and reserve. The entire estimated military of Afghanistan would only outnumber the average fan attendance for the Cincinnati Bengals by 3 to 1; in game theory, you need anywhere from 6 to 1 odds to 8 to 1 odds to succeed. That means that the entire Iraqi army at it's height would barely be able to overrun the fans at this years Superbowl (578,259 Iraqi soldiers to 68,000 fans). You can do the exact math if you wish. Its about 8:1 odds.

Here is another fact; there are enough (registered) guns owned in the United States to arm 88 percent of the population. That include toddlers, by the way; so basically, everyone between lets say 14 and 60 could carry two weapons.... the second highest in the world is Serbia, at 56 percent. Not much invasion threat from them either. And if Mexico and Canada were to team up, they would not even match Serbia. So invading the Unites States is absurd. The enxt time you hear someone say that "We did this to protect the United States from invasion" laugh at them and call them a moron. Slap them for lying.

We did, however, allow Osama Bin Laden to win. More accurately, the Cheney Trinity did. How you ask? Simple. The object of terrorism is to inflict panic; it's not to take and hold territory, or sieze valuable resources, or any other military objective. It's to make people run around screaming "The Sky is Falling!", to behave in a way that destabilizes them. Homeland Security, the Transportation Safety Bureau, "The Patriot Act" and Rendering did that. Exactly the way Bin Laden wanted. We proved that were exactly the type of detested bully the world should hate. A Cowardly Lion of epic proportions.

Let me bug all of you with a few more tidbits;

War in Afghanistan: 2001. President: Bush (not Obama) Senate and House: Republican SOURCE: any news article

War in Iraq: 2003. President: Bush (not Obama). Senate and House: Republican.

Sub-prime Loan: 2004. President: Bush (not Obama) Senate and House: Republican.
(side note; the percent of subprime loans in 1999 was 8% on average. By 2004 it rocketed up to 20%. SOURCE: Wall Street Journal)

Bank Failures: 57 in 2007 and 2008. During the first year of Obama's term, under the budget passed by the previous Congress, 122 more banks failed. Since 2007 a total of over 400 small banks have failed, all brought down by the collapse above them. SOURCE: FDIC

For this, both parties are to blame; the Democrats did not take over majority in the Senate until 2009, and are still the majority party, Their failure to unify, or to overwhelm opposition, as well as both parties failure to compromise has paralyzed and crippled our economy. (Party Majority SOURCE: Clerk Of the United States Office)

The President DOES NOT have dictatorial powers. To everyone I saw applauding Gingrich in his New Hampshire caucus; you are sheep, or idiots. You applauded when he said that "A leader needs to be strong; to take action, even if the people are opposed to it..." that stunned me. Isn't this the same guy screaming because Obama appointed someone to an office (which he has the right to do, by the way). Isn't that saying "I don't care what you want or what you think; we do things my way". That is dictatorship.

And through all of this, where has the Tea Party been? Where were they in 2001? In 2004? In 2007? Why is it only after a black Democrat takes office that this "Tea Party" bobs to the top of the septic tank of intolerance, screaming for impeachment, and radical change... oh, wait, I answered my own question already. Intolerance. Bias. Hatred. Denial. Hypocrisy. Fraud. The earmarks of the prior administration blended with the fanatical self-righteousness of religious zealotry. Exactly the same rhetoric and attitude used by the Taliban and the Ayatollahs.

Wait. I was wrong. We did in fact get invaded. There they are, the people who want to turn us into a modern day Theocracy, where your every thought and action is under scrutiny, where dissent is punished with violence, and freedom is what they tell you it is. Nice job Mr Bush; you played your part beautifully. Machiavelli salutes you Mr. Cheney. Welcome, Great Lord Gingrich.
Cthulhu Fataghn!

Analyze this....

2012-02-04T08:38:00.000-08:00

So somewhere out there are people who still claim to be able to analyze dreams. I have read two books on the subject... OK, that's a half truth. I read parts of two books on the subject. I quit both times, because they were utter crap, at least where I was concerned. Not one of them had any mention or section on turning into a werewolf..... ort a 30 foot tall winged demon. Neither discussed the deep meaning of having lunch in a railcar-turned-diner filled with ghosts. At no point did they discuss being Angelina Jolie in a fantasy film about Luck Dragons and Chimera..... these are not excerpts from nightmares, by the way. These are just snippets of these unusual epic dreams I have. I get nightmares also, but they tend to run along the same lines. Two hour epics that might actually make great films, if they had more damn continuity.

This morning however I woke up from what has to rank among one of my oddest. Not because I was changing gender, or species, but because it actually had a structure.... if I had eaten some magic mushrooms and wandered around Wonderland, maybe....

It began with me meeting my friend Kimi at a huge mall, like Stanford Shopping Center. We were going to have drinks and lunch at this new trendy bar and grill. Sitting at the bar, I was fascinated by the behavior of the two waitresses. One of them seemed to be flashing customers randomly, both men and women; the other, a small blonde woman, was making the simple act of picking up empty drinks a twenty second seduction. I pointed this out to Kimi quietly, to have her watch as the blonde girl picked up an unwanted beer from my friend Elayne, who was suddenly there as well. As the waitress reached for the beer, she slowly slipped two fingers inside the glass, then made a little gasp as if surprised. Looking right at Elayne, she then put both fingers in her mouth to lick the beer off.

She took the glass and twirled away, walking back in my direction, smiling at me and winking. As she passed behind me she looked over her shoulder; then she poured the rest of the glass (quite a lot, actually) over my head. I sat there in my favorite suit, a tailored black silk one (yes, I own suits. Yes, one of them is tailored black silk from Japan.) Several people were making comments and waiting to see what I would do. For a moment I made jokes about beer being good for hair, and how nice it was to smell like yeast; then I got up and confronted the blonde girl. To my annoyance she not only had no reason for dousing me, but was angry at me for being upset by being wet and reeking of beer. When I demanded to speak to the owner or the manager she actually called me a stuffy fuck.

I moved to the back of the place, which looked more like a corporate lobby. The secretary seated there rushed about (secretary??), brought me a business card for the owner, and brought over an assistant Customer Support person... in a BAR? Meanwhile the crazy waitress was continuing to yell at me. Kimi was watching in shock, and Elayne looked more and more concerned as I visibly lost my slightly amused detachment at the incident and got angrier and angrier. What began as "I want my suit cleaned and an apology" was now "I want my suit cleaned, an apology, my hair washed and combed, a free meal, and you fired" because the waitress wouldn't shut up. I finally had enough, and as I left the waitress got right in my face. I looked at her and said "What exactly do you think you are doing?" She punched me in the mouth three times. Fairly hard. Hard enough, in fact, to knock out a tooth or two and chip some more.

Everyone froze in place as I picked out the bits of teeth and looked at them. With a now rather lop-sided grin I said "Thanks. I think you pretty much just gave me half ownership of the place on a platter." The Customer Service girl and the secretary grabbed the soon to be fired waitress and tossed her on the ground, as Kimi and I walked out. Elayne was either still inside, or had left already.

Kimi was walking out to my car with me, asking if I was OK and apologizing for choosing the place, as I put my bits of teeth in a pocket and poked about at the now vacant areas of my gums. It ached, and I had a fat lip, but nowhere near the amount of pain one might associate with broken teeth... and I was back to amused.

That is until we got to the far side of the parking structure. I was parked on the third tier, near an edge, and for some reason a helicopter had landed half way on the railing, getting the landing struts caught in the side rail and pulling it free. Below on the ground (about fifty feet) was some weird sort of flatbed/crane combo, hooked to the helicopter. Just sitting there, no one operating it, like the driver had said "Oops, lunch break. Back in 30 minutes!" and walked off. Sigh. Union Journeymen....

Naturally I had to take a closer look and see if this was being done correctly. Kimi was fascinated, and announced "I've never gotten to be in a helicopter before!" She scrambled over the broken concrete and the rail, and hopped inside the pilot area of the helicopter. Umm, yeah. Right. OK then.... "Kimi! What the hell are you doing?" She laughed and said "Oh ni-san, you always do things like this.." then yelled as the whole thing slid off and tilted forward, almost dumping her to the ground still some forty feet below her.

A crowd assembled instantly to "ooh" and "ahh" as I looked around for a way to get her out. As I leaned over the railing two men walked up to the... tow truck? ... whatever.... then began to rock it violently. One of them was Dr. Martin Luther King. No one seems at all surprised to see him there. I raced down some magically convenient stairs, just in time to see that the rocking has caused the helicopter to tip slowly forward and down, and dropped Kimi a much safer six to eight feet. Into a shrubbery arrangement that surrounds a small cemetery for victims of AIDS. I helped Kimi up as she brushed off her clothes, and Dr. King nodded solemnly to me and walked off.

We left in separate cars, but went to my house (my actual one) in order to clean up. Kimi seemed to be very flustered, while I am only damp and slightly embarrassed over the condition of the house. It's not dirty, but it was absurdly cluttered in the back. This was because I was not only sleeping in one room (my real bedroom) next to my home office (also real), I was using them for temporary storage to help some friends.

More specifically, the costume departments for TheatreWorks and Wilcox Stage Company. The office was filled around three walls with an assortment of small boxes, all over-packed with shoes, shirts, dresses, belts... my room was a bit less cluttered, but I had been in the process of emptying and sorting two boxes, the contents of which are lying on my bed, my armchair, the TV.... and around the walls are numerous hats hanging alongside my own. Teanca's witch hat from "Maskerade" hangs alongside my RenFaire hat; Emily's was hanging on the peg with my Mardi Gras hat. On a number of new pegs (hey, where did my dresser go???) are hats from "Suessical the Musical" including a big Cat in the Hat hat.

I was trying to do two things at once. Get my wet suit off, and straighten my room. Neither was really going very well. In the midst of adding a third task, putting dry clothes on, there was a knock at the door followed by someone opening it into me. Two women were there, bowing and apologizing and trying to come in, to give me my compensation for the earlier soaking and punches. In my haste I pulled on a rather bizarre smoking jacket instead of my robe, and the damn thing wouldn't close in front. I eventually gave up on holding the door while trying to dress and clean, and the women came all the way in, trailed by my brother and Kimi.

They seemed fascinated by all the clutter, and kept trying to pick things up and look at them as I explained why I had them. They are like small monkeys or little kids; as soon as I got one thing away, they picked up another. I was not really annoyed, just... puzzled and frustrated. Then I heard a whole lot of barking and yowling from the front of the house. These two women had also brought in their dogs, all of whom seemed to know me and love me. The problem was that there are about five of them, all fairly large... and our cat was freaking out, even though the dogs were paying her no attention.

The dogs were now fawning all over me, and I was petting them and trying to calm them all down. I'd given up on the robe completely, and only had on a t-shirt, underwear... and socks. Socks? I took time to put socks on? The cat was now outside, and seeing me petting other things had infuriated her. She was howling and scratching the sliding glass door, when a large squirrel ran up next to her. It was carrying a tiny rectangle of paper on which someone (probably not the squirrel, but who knows?) had written "Help Me!" The squirrel waved the paper frantically, rather like it was taped to its paw, then struck a weird pointing pose while standing on its back legs. The cat yowled at the squirrel, the squirrel darted away, and Kimi and my brother started shooing the dogs out.

This gave the two nutty ladies a chance to make a formal presentation to me of the settlement being offered; a $300,000.00 check... and a gift certificate for a free dinner and drinks for two. I didn't really have time to mull over the absurdity of this, as I had a cat to deal with. She was now hiding in the garden and I had to partially dig her out from under my Artichokes. Kimi had now vanished, because the women discovered she is wearing a garter belt with no underwear, and kept pulling her skirt up to try and get a look and some pictures. Apparently this might have made them revoke the gift certificate, as Kimi's racy lingerie was possibly what sparked the beer dunking. What?

My brother was now fully engaged with shoving them and the dogs out the front door, where a news team had gathered to interview us all. I managed to recover the bathrobe, primarily to protect myself from the still angry and struggling cat I was now carrying. I stood in the front door and watched as my brother chased off dogs, women, news teams and the squirrel by swinging our marble topped coffee table at them like a giant swatter.

I woke up from that at six thirty this morning. After a few moments of sitting there in baffled thought, I got up. No way was I going to try going back to sleep. I might have found myself actually using the gift certificate.

Meaning? to that dream? I don't think so. Oh, sure, you can say it's an expression of stress and frustration, or uncertainty... but you might also just as well say that dreaming about a rooster means I am dreaming about success. It could also mean I am worried about being dinner, don't you think? Analyze THAT Sigmund...

The Case of the Partial Review

2011-12-17T02:53:00.000-08:00

Right. After reading some comments on Facebook (some from people who are not actually followers of my blog... yet... ahem... (grin)...) I realized that there was an omission to my review on "A Game of Shadows"; i.e., how does it stack up to the original stories? What about the Basil Rathbone series, Jeremy Brett's epic portrayls, or the modern "Sherlock"? How about all the great odds and ends, like "Without a Clue", or "The Seven Percent Solution", the wonderfully funny "Sherlock Holmes Smarter Brother"? There is even a BBC series where Arthur Conan Doyle "reveals" the inspiration for the Holmes stories, called "Dr. Bell and Mr, Doyle. If you are a fan of Holmes, check this series out by all means..... anyway, I started to write this as a postscipt to the review, when I realized that this really need a whole new blog. Especially after I spent 20 minutes on writing it. ^..^

Sherlock Holmes may well be the most adapted character in literature. There are literally hundreds of films, dozens of TV and radio series, spinoff stories by people like Stephen King and Laurie King (no relation)Neil Gaiman, and the character was even given a Royal Society "Honorary Fellowship" about ten years ago. He has gone up against Dracula, been placed in modern times and the future, been on the Animaniacs... and yes, I have read or watched damn near everything Holmesian (is that a word? it is now). My grandmother was a huge fan, and got me started on her first collection when I was nine or so. My brother grabbed the books when she moved on. I'll have to kill him to get them I suspect. Ooops... ignore that.

So, as far as the two films by Guy Ritchie go, they are far from spot-on to the original ACD stories. They were never intended to be so however; like so many of these other works, they are an homage to "the greatest detective ever writen". I thoroughly enjoyed George C. Scott as the mentally unbalanced patient being treated by "Dr. Watson". Watching Nicol Williamson as the cocaine addicted Holmes in "The Seven Percent Solution" did not offend me in any way... though Williamson himself did, after he injured another actor on Broadway during a stage fight, because Nicol was too arrogant to show up for practice. Oaf. He was so awesome as Little John in "Robion and Marian".... oh well. I laughed during damn near every minute of Gene Wilder and Marty Feldman's portrayals, as well as the one by Michale Caine and Ben Kingsley.

I love to see all the little influences in film, television, novels of sci-fi, fantasy, steanpunk. Hell, he is even part of the inspiration behind Dr. Who (yechhh), and so many other detective characters. Batman's crime deduction methods are obviously takne from Holmes, and Johnny Depp gives him a nod in "Sleepy Hollow". You see tribute paid in Tom and Jerry cartoons, Mickey Mouse, you even see Daffy Duck wearing the famous deerstalker hat.

These two movies are action/adventure/comedies, and aren't intended to re-define or re-spin Holmes and Watson, any more than the anime dog Sherlock Holmes was. They should be looked at, not with a severely jaundiced eye, but with the affection for anything that introduces the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to a new generation of fans. If even one person in two hundred picks up a Kindle and downloads "The Hound of the Baskervilles" (which scared the hell out of me as a kid) or "The Sign of the Four" then I think the movies did a superb service.

And maybe, just maybe, one of the people reading those stories will start thinking a little more clearly; begin looking more carefully and closely at the world around them; and run for President.

I can dream, can't I?

The Girl With the Sherlock Tattoo

2011-12-16T16:54:00.000-08:00

I just saw "Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows" and can safely say it's as fun

as the first one. Hopefully, I can write a review without spoilers.. but be warned anyway. Guy Ritchie directed this second film, so from the standpoint of visuals it has the same look as the first. Gritty London streets, fantastic and varied costuming, and a roller-coaster pacing throughout the film. Hans Zimmer returned to score the film, Jenny Beavan was once more in charge of the spectacular period costumes, and Richard Ryan as the Fight Director served up another round of the intriguing (albeit Matrixy) slo-mo "pre-vis" Holmes fights. Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law worked seamlessly once more as Holmes and Watson, and with Kelly Reilly and Rachel McAdams back as the lovely Mary Watson (nee Morstan) and the slinky "whose side am I on now" Irene Adler, there are two lovely faces to watch. Added to the already great cast are Stephen Fry as Mycroft Holmes; you might recognize him from "V: For Vendetta", and the much prettier Noomi Rapace, the original and hardcore "Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" actress. Tom O'Connell, one of the tribe of O'Connell's spawned by Skywalker Sound handled Foley this time around, so the explosions are big without being ear-piercing, and the little nuances are all there to fill the appropriate momments. Holmes is up against Moriarty (who else???) and the game is afoot from frame 4. Plot twists are relatively few, and there are several important clues and foreshadowings dropped.. and I missed one of them. There are plenty of funny scenes in the film, including a badly cross-dressed Holmes, and wait for Stephen Fry's big moment. There is also a sly little nod to "Two Mules For Sister Sara", which I just happened to see again a few weeks ago. They use the title theme from that movie at one point, and when you see this, you will know why and get an extra laugh. The confrontations between Moriarty and Holmes are the slowest sections of the film; but since they are filled with innuendo, snide repartee, and that lovely Victorian England uber-polite "I hate you, and plan to fill your intestines with burning coals. Tea?" dialogue, you don't get bored by the change of tempo. If "My Dinner With Andre" had that sort of dialogue and tension, I would own it. All in all, well worth my time and money; and the audience applauded heartily at the end; always a good sign. Did I mention that Noomi is hot?

The Waking Dead

2011-11-16T09:18:00.001-08:00

I was probably ill-advised to watch three episodes of "The Walking Dead" after getting home from a load out last night. I had missed parts of episodes three and four, and had not yet seen number five. Since we finished at 11PM, I thought "Some wine, crackers, and cheese, and zombies. How could it get any better?" Idjit. So there I am at shortly after midnight, watching again as Shane shoots Otis. As I told my friend Jacob, there was a logic there I could follow. The only thing Shane really cares about is Lori and Carl, and (sort of) Rick; everyone else is disposable. Doesn't alter the fact that Shane is a dick... Anyway, the story sort of carried over into Dreamland. There I am, in some non-survivors pre-Zombiepocalypse fortified home; apparently Bill Gates isn't the only one. Trust me to find a home built of Oak panels over solid concrete with 1 1/2 inch thick bulletproof plexiglass windows, and slick ceramic tiling on the roof in a dream about zombies. Needless to say, with this nice secure base I need roomies; I picked two women (who looked like no one I know, thanks for asking), an old guy, my brother, three unidentified friends... and every cat the Crandall clan has ever owned. All of them about one year old. Somehow I had also "friended" a young tigress and her two cubs. They lived in the enclosed sunroom of course. Apparently my foray into the closest military camp area, trying to get them to come help by drawing a zombie horde towards them was not enough adventure. I went back to my little castle, and set off the "Zombie Whistle" to draw some in so I could shoot them. Nice guy. There I am, zombies pounding pointlessly on the glass and high walls, when I wake up. To the sound of dull pounding outside my room. Oh-oh.... turns out my neighbor is having some work done on his house. Still, I woke up thinking "I'm not prepared! I need a crossbow still!"

Bye Bye Birdie rehearsal stunts.

2011-07-17T02:31:00.000-07:00

I just saw several friends perform in a Starting Arts production of "Bye Bye Birdie", and promised I would share... AFTER their show closed.... stunts that we pulled during one summer production.

“Bye Bye Birdie” was one of the shows we did at the Drama/Music Workshop, a summer school program held at Sequoia High School in Redwood City. Our theatre is slightly larger than the Wilcox stage, and had a balcony seating 120 (since removed). All the theatre and music departments in the district participated, and the Director, Choreographer, Orchestra/Music and Tech Director jobs rotated among the faculty. We had five weeks to put the shows up, and ran for 3 weeks, with a Thursday night and Sunday matinee; 12 performances total. We had brushups on Tuesday afternoon, and during the run of “Birdie” our TD called us all together (I was deck crew chief and ASM). We planned a whole series of jokes for the brushup. In (sort of) order we:
Swapped Albert’s aspirin. I carved two Alka Seltzer tablets down to make several small round “aspirin” and carved a “B” on them. When Albert tossed them in his mouth… water made it even funnier.
During “How Lovely to be a Woman” I sabotaged Kim; we had a complete bedroom set for her, attached to the McAfee house, about 8 feet high and 12’x8’. A stub bed, dresser, vanity, and a fake closet with sliding doors. On Kim’s dresser we had a Raggedy Anne doll, and I wired it as a puppet. From the grid I made it stand up and dance behind her. She couldn’t see it at first, and the orchestra and directors were trying not to laugh. Everytime she would start to turn I would sit it down again. She turned around towards the end and saw it standing up with its arms in the air. I made it jump on her, and cut the strings.
When Birdie arrived for the Key ceremony, we had substituted a copy made of PVC pipe, painted gold (same size as the wooden dowel version). When Birdie went to take the Key, it came apart and a flag popped out that said “BOOM”.
The McAfee house was made up of 4’x8’ wagons, and we had built out a full kitchen area on one section, with an oven and stove near the end, a counter with a sink making an L, and an actual refrigerator. A stair and landing led up (like yours did) to Kim’s bedroom, the parents bedroom, and a bathroom (apparently Randolph sleeps in the bathtub…). We made fake “Budweiser” labels and put them on 7-Up for the breakfast beer bit; at the brushup we subbed a can of real beer. We also had a fake head and a stuffed dog toy in there later.
We had fake eggs, bacon etc. glued to Mr. McAfee’s plates for the breakfast shtick, and Kim would bring back a similar plate with a stack of pancakes, eggs, bacon, etc glued on. We swapped in a plate with a stack of (real) glued together donuts, fake dog poop, and a small rubber chicken for Kim to carry to Conrad.
Our Randolph (Don Stitt) pulled his own little sabotage and brought a Playboy out of the bathroom, with the “articles about Conrad” cut out.
At the start of Act Two, Rosie is tossing stuff in her suitcase; we had a bunch of folded clothes (stuff from Goodwill discards) sewn into flat “packed” piles inside and attached to the bottom half divider, so Rosie could just toss stuff in on top. We always had a small amount of 2”x4” in under the fake clothes, to add a bit of weight. At the brushup we added a 5 pound pig weight from the fly rails at each scene change when Rosie was not looking. By the time she was trying to run from Albert it was around 15 pounds; after the final confrontation with Mae, it was 20 or so. She had to drag it off.
When Mae threatens to kill herself, we had her actually walk to the McAfee kitchen and stick her head in the oven. We cut out a side panel from the “counter” and removed the side of the oven. One of the crew hid inside the entire time, and when Mae stuck her head into the oven, he was looking out at her.
During the Shriner’s scene (which you guys cut… why?) the Mayor et al are wearing Fez’s. They were supposed to do a little flourish with the hats during part of the dance, swinging them around by the tassels. Our costumer had joined in on the fun; she undid the tassels and reattached them with thin elastic; when they tried to twirl them they extended about a foot. Rosie also joined in the fun, and added a breakaway skirt; when the Shriner’s were supposed to start tugging at her skirt it came off, and she was wearing Winnie the Pooh boxers underneath.
During the Ice House scene, we had several large blocks of clear plastic chipped to look like blocks of ice on the set. We subbed in real blocks of ice. About 8 if I recall. It was COLD on the platform Kim and Conrad sit on. We put a cigarette load in Conrad’s cigarette (yes, we could actually smoke on stage…). The girls in the chorus were in on it as well. When they tackled Conrad, they actually started to take off his jacket, shirt, shoes….. it was a VERY disheveled Conrad who thanked them for arresting him. Except that I had rigged the cuffs with a spring, and defeated the latch, so every time they closed them they sprang open again and fell off.
By the time Rosie brought her suitcase on in the final scene, it weighed 25 pounds or so. We had always had some 5 pound weights in the other bags on the cart; and several of them were actually screwed down as well, as they never moved off the cart (or we had duplicates) so that when Albert is wheeling Rosie about, she had a stable seat; her suitcase would fit in between. We had planned to add about 30 pounds of pigs, but in the frenzy we added more; turned out that with Rosie’s suitcase added, we had almost 100 pounds. Albert could barely move the thing around. Albert was supposed to pull the tickets to Iowa out of his briefcase. We added eight “snakes” the little coiled spring things…. and four superballs.

We had some fairly annoyed actors by the end, and the directors called us out on stage to chew us out…. but oddly, they never stopped the rehearsal, and even the orchestra was laughing….. the chewing out was essentially “OK, that was highly amateur, and very disruptive, and funny….. ahem, and we trust you got it all out of your systems. So we don’t have to worry about that on closing night, right?”

A Song of Writers and Actors

2011-04-24T23:00:00.001-07:00

I was planning on waiting a bit longer before I started commenting on HBO’s ambitious endeavor to adapt George R. R. Martin’s “Game of Thrones” to the small screen. Right. Like patience is a virtue I possess in great measure. So after watching only the trailers, the interviews, the behind the scenes stuff, and the first two episodes (Geek? Me? Piss off) here are my initial impressions. They are NOT objective; write your own review.

First off, the things I have trouble with or just plain don’t like. Mark Addy as Robert Baratheon: OK, he’s fat, florid, common…. and all I can say every time he is on screen is “I could have done that better.” Typical actor, me. I can’t do fat as well as he does, but… he is just too one-dimensional. Not as he is written, but as he plays it. He’ll be gone by episode three, so I’ll get over it. Kit Harington as Jon Snow: he’s new to the business; this may well be his first TV or film appearance, ever. Kit, please keep your mouth closed. Too many scenes you look like a fish out of water. Stop pouting. You can be broody without looking Emo. Close your mouth. Michelle Fairley as Catelyn Stark: Sorry, she is not anywhere near as pretty as I felt Catelyn was supposed to be. She can act her way through the walls of Winterfell though. Rats. Wow.

I am still undecided over Emelia Clarke as Daenerys Targaryen: she is pretty enough, and the platinum hair looks right on her, but she is stockier than I pictured Daenerys. She also has had very little to work with as an actress yet, so I’m going to have to wait a bit. Her brother Viserys, played by Harry Loyd looks much more like I pictured them both; almost elven (yeah yeah, I know…..). Wish they could have gotten the violet eyes though. Hell, they did it for “Dune” 25 years ago…. I’m also very annoyed by what appears to be the costumers idea of the Maesters chain; ummm, did anyone read her the books? Michele, these are described as fitting tightly about the neck, like a slave collar. What you have looks like someone tried to find a use for old drawbridge chains. Seriously, at what point does it say “Maester Lewins chain hung down to his testicles”?

Now, for the stuff I like or love so far. Top of the list is Peter Dinklage. He is superb as Tyrion Lannister. He has the mocking, wounded, ribald, cunning, and caring layers all beautifully bound together, and they come out at every point they are needed, each emotion underscored by the depths underneath. Oh, yeah. “I hope I can do stuff that well”. As an actor I stand in admiration. Jamie Lannister and Cersei Lannister, played by Nikolja Coster-Waldau (?) and Lena Headey are excellent; I can’t WAIT to see the later interactions. Sean Bean as Ned Stark should be kissing his agent; this role and he are a perfect fit. Maisie Williams as Arya has had a lot more to do so far than Sansa, played by Sophie Turner, but I see no reason to doubt 5 star work from both.

Visually the show is spectacular. The locations in Ireland and Malta work perfectly, the cinematography presents even more sweeping landscapes than “Lord of The Rings”, and The Wall…. Oh, yeah. Loved it. The main score by Ramin Djawadi is wonderful, and other than the Maesters chains (Michele, WTFO?) the costuming looks excellent.

As for the two episodes themselves, I am trying to avoid spoilers. I have at least one loopy friend who is going to wait for the DVD’s “so I can watch it all at once.” Really? So how come you watch “Fringe” one episode at a time, hmmm? Yeah, you know who you are… . I will say this; episode one takes a rather breakneck pace to cover about 200 pages. Daenerys is married to Khal Drogo before you can finish your first glass of wine. Jon practically walks into frame, looks about, and says “I’m going to take the black.”. Tyrion is whoring before you even meet him… and good luck knowing who is Robb Stark and who is Theon Greyjoy, as no one uses a name during the first hour… of a one hour episode. OK, that was hyperbole, but still.

The second episode included a scene not in the book, between Cersei and Catelyn in Bran’s room; it was inspiring. You feel the first stirring of compassion for Cersei… and then stop and ask “Was that all a lie?” If George wrote that, look for it in the revised printings of the novels. The “touching” farewell between Catelyn and Jon is also different in detail, though not in tone. Good job guys. And when Ned has to fulfill the sentence passed on Lady, in Nymerias absence….. whooo. Arya also gives a look that the camera holds which is apparently meant for Cersei as much as Joffrey. If I got a look like that , I would be checking for poison in my food and assassins in my bed the rest of my life. Its not hatred, it is a cold and uncompromising condemnation.

Winter is coming.

I need more lockers...

2011-03-18T11:52:00.000-07:00

I told myself I was not going to use my blog for topical commentary. No rants on politicians, no current affairs claptrap… now I have to go whack myself after I post this, then comment about what a liar I was. Am. Are. Whatever.

I don’t like Gilbert Gottfried much. The nasal twangy New Yorker parody voice combined with the squinted eyes was annoying to me rather than funny. I remember laughing over one bit he did, about Jews in elevators not being scary; other than that I would refuse to watch him. He was sort of funny in “Beverly Hills Cop”. Sort of.

I do NOT think he should have been fired by AFLAC over the Twitter posts. Aside from the fact that they were no worse than Dead Baby jokes (still told in high schools BTW) or many gallows humor gags:
“Jesus walks in to a motel. He hands the clerk three nails and says ‘Can you put me up for the night?’”
“Other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how was the show?”
“What does NASA stand for? Need Another Seven Astronauts.”
they were rude comments made by… a rude comic. It’s his JOB to be controversial, and to parody, mock and make japes about anything and everything. Bill Cosby did a routine about getting drunk and sticking your head in a toilet to puke; Jello let him keep working. OK, that may not be a good analogy. Tough shit. My point is that while I can see someone saying “well that was tasteless” AFLAC had no business firing him. Gilbert was NOT wearing a duck costume at the time. Some of Disney’s movies have been accused of racism and poor ethics… yet they are carried on every major cable channel, even though Walt has been outed as being highly anti-semitic.

And if firing Gottfried was right, why has Fox not dropped Glenn Beck? “God may be sending a message…” in regards to Japan? Is that not equally insensitive? Oh, wait, I forgot. That was Fox…

Alexandra Wallace posted an instantly viral video, ranting about Asians abusing the facilities at UCLA. I am appalled that she got death threats over this, that people hacked her and posted her class and finals schedules… yet no one is demanding they get punished. She may get expelled by UCLA… for expressing an opinion? I would get pissed if limited facilities in (presumably) off campus housing for STUDENTS was being monopolized by non-students. And people on cell phones in a library? Totally wrong. I would have done two things first; confronted the people, and if that produced no result, complained to the apartment managers or housing admins, and to the librarians. If that didn’t solve the problem, I might well have ranted online myself. I may not agree with your opinion; I will defend your right to have one, and to make it public. I despise the Klan, neo-Nazis, all of that ilk. They are still entitled to have rallies. And if they decide put a burning cross up, fine. I’ll just erect a fat buck-toothed white guy holding a jug of moonshine and wearing a ratty white sheet, and set that on fire. Right next to them. Tit for tat.

Now there is a NEW viral hate going about, over a teen girls music video. I’m talking about Rebecca Blacks “Friday”. I listened. It’s over-produced, has more voice-box vibro distortion than Cher used in her entire 5 year tour, and has some of the most insipid dippy lyrics I have ever heard. It’s STILL not as bad as a B-Side single called “Milk Cow” by Norman Greenbaum, which was with “Spirit in the Sky”. No one made death threats against Norman for “Milk Cow”. Trust me, that song is FAR worse than “Friday”. I once won concert tickets in a “worst song ever” radio contest with that song. The DJ found it, and immediately announced I was the winner. He would not even play it he said it was so bad. Tickets to see The Cramps, if anyone cares; “Bad Music for Bad People”. We miss you Lux Interior.

This girl is getting death threats too! Hundreds of thousands of people ranting about her. Why? Because we allow it. Because the interwebz allows anonymous bullying and defamation. The skinny little dweeb that used to get stuffed in his locker can now go online and post “I’m going to eat your liver you insipid racist bitch!” and get away with it. We have lost all concept of manners, because the internet has allowed us to unleash our own inner demons on anyone we choose. Like the Krell, our monsters of the Id race about in cyberspace contaminating and rending all that is not in utter sheep-like agreement. That has spread out into the rest of the world as well. “I can talk on my cell phone at any volume on any subject anywhere, because I am entitled to because I bought this iPod.” “How dare you listen to me! This is a private conversation!” “How dare you interrupt me! I’m talking here!” OK, that’s it. Find me a locker, that putz is going inside.

83rd Oscars.... why don't I have one yet?

2011-02-27T22:40:00.000-08:00

The Oscars are over. 83 of them, of which I have seen….well…. less than 83. Piss off.

First of all, Anne Hathaway was wonderful. She was funny. The “Inception” themed homage to the top films (and Alec Baldwin) was pretty well done. A few moments lagged; certainly nowhere NEAR the equal of Billy Crystals Hannibal Lector montage…. However, once they got on to the stage…. is James Franco really an actor?

I know Brando refused to learn his lines, and worked only off a teleprompter. Ray Doherty once told me, when I corrected a line he delivered in a show I was stage managing “Anyone can read a line the way it’s written...”. OK, that was Ray. He was a good actor. Franco looked like he was not only reading off a teleprompter all night, but like he had no desire to be there, and had missed dress rehearsal as well. I ask you, if you got to work with Anne Hathaway and rub elbows with Hollywood royalty all night, would you not want to look like a pro? Or at least a talented amateur? They should have left him under a rock. He was so stiff he might have forgotten to take the hangers out of the rented tux.

Enough of that. Franco sucked (except for a brief moment in the Marilyn ensemble). Hathaway was brilliant. And cute. Always a plus. I still miss Steve Martin, and Billy Crystal, and Greg Proops on the runway with Melissa Rivers. Sue me.

I picked 7 out of 21 tonight; I should have placed wagers online on my Vegas book. Oh well. I didn’t see any of the Documentaries this year (again) so they don’t count. I thought Natalie deserved Best Actress for “Black Swan”, “Alice in Wonderland” for costume design (only “The Tempest” was surreal out of all of the rest, which were just…clothes) “Inception” for sound editing (nice work Tom O’Connell!) “The Lost Thing” for animated short, “Wolfman” for makeup (the only GOOD thing in the film) and “The King’s Speech” for Screenplay and Best Picture.

Melissa Leo over Amy Adams for Best Supporting was a toss-up. I confess, having a crush on Amy ever since “Enchanted” and “Doubt” ( why do I STILL not like Meryl Streep??) and “Julie and Julia” (and again…WTF?) I wanted her to win. Plus she was prettier than Melissa in the film. OK, in real life also, but Melissa is not exactly a drab…
In point of fact, there are only two I disagreed with strongly. One was “Inception” for Cinematography. To me, Cinematography is the brilliant filming of sweeping vistas, incredible scenery, awesome sets and gorgeous sunrises or sunsets. I picked “True Grit”, and they chose “Inception”, which owed most of it’s setting to CGI. Meh.

Christian Bale over Geoffrey Rush? What The Fuck? (notice, no subtle acronym). Seriously? This is like putting Justin Bieber in a commercial with Ozzy Osbourne (OK, they did that…) and then saying Justin is the more legendary. Christian BALE? CHRISTIAN Bale? Over Geoffrey Rush? Jesus H Christ on a crutch, are these the same people that elected Bush for a second term, is that why? Arrghhh. Everyone seemed surprised that I think a whiny egotistical tantrum throwing foul mouthed unprofessional violent antagonistic threat making piss-ant doesn’t deserve a nomination, much less an AWARD….. Christian Bale represents everything I find amateur in actors. I don’t care HOW good he looks or sounds on screen. If he behaves like a prima donna off screen, especially with the crew and production teams, without which he would be on a street corner busking… OK, wait one, BRB, my venom is melting the letters off the keys…

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I love Mumms.

One of my favorite moments was Kirk Douglas. I had two feelings here. At first I felt like having him up there when his speech is so impaired from the strokes was mean and degrading. Then I see him look over at Anne and say “You are lovely!” and I realize I am wrong. Plus his teasing of the Best Supporting Actress nominees… he didn’t slur any worse than Harrison Ford a few years ago….. and thank you Melissa, for the F-Bombs. I also really liked the set; the use of digital screens to allow projection in any scope, or lighting/stage visual effects was wonderful. We use them in rock shows often.

In summation; If you have NOT seen at least 50% of the films nominated, you are short changing yourself. If you are an actor or actress and have not seen at least 80% of the films, you are missing out on very cheap acting lessons. And if you think Christian Bale deserved an award, you are an idiot. Phhhbbbbfffttt.

In my opinion... you should change yours

2011-02-19T04:09:00.000-08:00

You are entitled to your opinion. I firmly believe in this. Regardless of any “guarantee of free speech” this is something that I personally hold to be self evident. That being said, since I accord you the respect of listening to yours, I insist on the same in return. Quid Pro Quo. Tit for Tat (for those of you lacking a classical education, or who are not arrogant multi lingual intellectual snobs. Like me.) The minute you begin to shout me down, interrupt or otherwise heckle, you lose that privilege. Check page 2 of the rules. I don’t have many; that is one of them.

I also feel that in order to have an opinion you, yourself hold worthy, you need to have done some research. You should fact check. See if the opinion holds water. Just because you find a Flat Earth Society on the web does not mean that is true. “I heard it on Fox News” should cause everyone to look around. OK, cheap shot. IMHO, Fox news has all the accuracy of a dart thrown by a drunken blind man with cerebral palsy in the midst of an earthquake while standing on a medicine ball and being chewed by an alligator. Regardless, you might swear by them. Goddess knows lots of MY friends swear any time they hear the name Fox associated with the word news…

Have the self respect to look yourself. If you refuse to listen to anyone else, why do you blindly follow everything that Rush Limbaugh says? Does Bill O’Rielly hold the only true answers? Unless you are afraid your gods have feet of clay, I challenge you to use the internet to dig around on your own. Fact check. Sure, the San Jose Mercury is a hotbed of liberals trying to brainwash the poor people of Silicon Valley. Is every paper and news team other than Fox part of the conspiracy? Seems unlikely to me. If Bill and Rush are the sole bastions of truth, justice and the American Way, why have the godless minions, those Communist Liberal Abortionist Muslim Satanists (C.L.A.M.S. check out our logo…)not simply wiped them all out?

Taken our horrible mind-bending psychedelic stash of illegal drugs and brainwashed them? Waterboarded them until they confess they collect copies of the Koran, and back issues of Classics Illustrated? Plagiarism being the most sincere form of flattery.

Here is our lord and master, devouring a helpless conservative housewife. Stay home and raise that family! We know where you live!

This is so simple for us! We must simply be too stoned, sitting back in our hammock chairs and wearing pink leather while eating Organic Grown products from Whole Earth and watching Teletubbies to get this weeks secret gay message.

Wait. That’s odd. Not one of the Enron executives was in our club. The head of Tyco indicted for embezzling and fraud was Republican. The CEO’s of Merrill Lynch, Cargolux, VIA, Bayer, InkStop, Olympic Pipeline… wow, NONE of these guys are liberal pinko terrorist commies?

The day I hear about a Wiccan mother loading her four kids in the car and drowning them to “protect them from the evils of the world; they are with god now” I will give serious thought to changing my beliefs.

Until then, in my opinion, a lot of people out there have their heads up their ass. Call me a faggot pinko Satanist to my face, and I will gladly PROVE your head is up your ass. Just don’t kiss me afterwards for showing you the light….

Stuff of dreams

2011-02-18T09:50:00.000-08:00

I have no idea yet how the story will start, or what will be in the middle: I do know this is how it will end. The names may change....

He walked in through the door of her fathers shop, just before closing. She was there towards the back, cleaning off the workbenches, brushing the small bits of wood, leather and metal into a bin with a small brush. She continued for a moment, unaware of him standing there behind her, watching.

A small smile turned up one corner of his mouth. She had changed even less than he expected. Her long dark brown hair, with hints of deep red catching the last of the sun like subtle fires hidden deep. Her smooth olive skin, the slender figure and soft curves of her, all still there. She stepped up on a short stool to brush off the top of a cabinet; and then like a feral cat she froze, aware of eyes on her. She turned her head and saw him.

“Hello, Marge.” he said softly. “It’s been a long time. You look lovely.” She stared at him for a long moment, unwilling or unable to speak. Her face gave away little after the first look of shock; but her eyes revealed the welter of emotions she fought to control. She turned away from him and began again to briskly clean off the cabinet. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was steady. “After all this time, you came back. No word, not a letter, nothing. Then you walk in as though it was yesterday.”

He leaned his staff inside the doorway, slid the pack off one arm and set it there as well. Carefully he began walking towards her. He could all but feel her emotions now, like heat radiating from her body. Anger, distrust, pain and betrayal…. and was there still, buried under all that… yes, there was. He moved closer and she stepped down quickly and moved away from him. She tried to hang the brush up on a small nail, placed a little out of reach for her. She had to stretch on tiptoe to hang it there. Her hands were shaking ever so slightly now, though her voice remained tightly controlled. “What do you want? Why are you here? Do you think nothings changed?”

Smiling again he stepped in behind her, letting his chest touch her back lightly. Marge went rigid as she felt him touch her. Knowing that she would know he was laughing a bit at the unsubtle innuendo, he reached over her shoulder and helped guide the nail into the small hole on the brush. He placed his cheek gently against hers, breathing in the warm smell of her as he did so, the scent of her hair and her skin filling him with memory.

“I’m here, little one. You have never, in all this time, been out of my mind. Or my heart. I’m home.” She relaxed against him suddenly, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her there. The first of many hot tears rolled down her cheek and onto his, though she made no sound at all. For the first time, she knew without a doubt he loved her. It did not matter if it was months or centuries, he would never leave her side again while she lived.

This was a dream I had this morning; powerful, emotional, evocative. I often dream of total strangers, perhaps taken from faces seen on TV, or passing in the streets. I sometimes dream about friends, rarely about former lovers, and even less often about current romances. Marge was my girlfriend in High School and for a year afterwards; we had a brief romance again three years after that. I have not seen or heard from her since. The woman in the dream was her, beyond a doubt. She looked exactly as memory says she did that last date. I was me, but not with the face or body I (ahem) usually inhabit. As sometimes happens, the "me" in dreams is not the physical me.

Reading Tolkien

2011-01-31T09:58:00.000-08:00

I refused to read Tolkien when my dad tried to give it to me at 8 or 9. He had started me on stories from Galaxy and Analog (he did illustrations for both as well as Amazing while he was in college and for a few years after). Heinlein was “light reading” and I had not discovered Sword and Sorcery, other than the rather iffy John Carter stuff. I read “She” by H. Rider Haggard before I read “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” by Roald Dahl.

Chronicles of Narnia was too sanctimonious and preachy; I stopped after Asshats (sorry) Aslans second coming…. I mean appearance… though I liked C. S. Lewis’ Perelandra trilogy. I put Fellowship down after reading "Bilbo Baggins was celebrating his Eleventy-first birthday." Eleventy-one? Pffft. Please, Dr. Seuss is fun and funny, but this? Eldritch horror to rinse out my mouth and mind please! Quickly! I need Clark Ashton Smith, and perhaps to re-read “The Telltale Heart” or “The Black Cat”! Take me to Trantor, now!

Then I got stranded at a relative’s home in New Orleans one night, while the grown-ups went to play on Bourbon Street. I had hoped to have a pleasant evening with the grownups vanished, as my third cousin once removed on my stepmothers side (or whatever that would be called) was only 5, and my sister Lynne was about a year old. I was 11 plus a few months. The grownups had decided to bring over a babysitter to deal with them, rather than force me to; and she was lovely. “Go ahead! Stay out as looooong as you like!” I thought.

14 or 15, honey blonde hair, big green eyes, lovely accent… and OMG, an IQ rivaled by my cat. I grabbed “The Fellowship” off the book shelf nearby as the only thing I had not read. I had just finished "Dune" the prior month. I recall looking at it like a soiled diaper, and my (step-uncle?) said “You don’t judge a book by its cover, do you? Read the first four chapters”. I could see right away that reading ANYTHING would give me refuge from Barbielite. “You read? Books? Wow, ya’all must be smaht!” Off to my room I went, frustrated and dragging a surely insipid novel along as refuge.

I hit the Barrow Downs shortly after midnight I think, and was utterly creeped out. I even thought about going down and sitting near the blonde. The attack at the Inn in Bree was chilling, and the assault on Weathertop made the lights in the room dim, or so it seemed. When they reached the Fords of Bruinen and Frodo began the desperate escape astride Asfaloth, my heart was racing as fast as the horse’s.

The ‘rents got home around 3 AM, and found me so deeply involved I barely responded to them. My father and uncle drove the ladies out and left me there. They came to get me for breakfast late that morning, maybe 10 AM. I had gone downstairs at about 6 AM and grabbed “The Two Towers” as well as “The Return of the King” and gone back to my room. My stepmother tried to get me to put the book down at the table, to which I replied “I’m not really hungry Marilyn” and got up to go back to my room. My father and uncle stifled her protest instantly, and my aunt brought me up pancakes… or waffles… or shoe leather. I wouldn’t have noticed. If she had stuck one of my feet between two slices of bread, I would have chewed my own foot off and failed to realize it. I finished the novels that evening. I was so ready for more, I read the appendices. Yeah, all of them…..

I have read the trilogy 2-3 times a year ever since. I often grab it on rainy winter days, build a fire even if it’s daylight, or pull the drapes in my room and light candles and one dim lamp. I am not quite at the point of being a Bradbury-esque “People who are books”, but I am damn close. Without trying to get it word by word, I believe I could tell the whole story, in the sequence the novels are laid out even after the parting of the Fellowship. I wrote screenplays for all three novels in the late 80’s, and tried off and on for a decade to get Saul Zaentz or the Tolkien estate to even talk to me. I was fairly pleased with the final Peter Jackson films, though I confess I skip over the bastardized Faramir scenes when I watch the DVD’s.

So, if you ever want someone to read them to your kids, I’m available. If I ever wind up with my own, this is a fixed part of parenting. I will also read “The Princess Bride” (is this a kissing book?) and maybe even the first three Narnia novels. I was 18 before I went back and read all the way to “Voyage of the Dawn Treader”. Oh, and they will also get “The Last Unicorn” and “Wind in the Willows”, “The Phantom Tollbooth” and “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”. I will leave Poe and Derleth, Howard and Burroughs, Lovecraft and Dunsany, Asimov and Ellison, Clarke and Heinlein until they can turn the pages themselves…..

Golden Globes 2011

2011-01-16T21:30:00.000-08:00

I always like watching the Golden Globes; while it may not carry the "Prestige" (ha ha) of the Academy Awards, it always, or almost always, has a more personal, intimate, and often edgier feel. Certainly having Ricky Gervais host again added edgy this year. I like Ricky, and I like the fact that the Hollywood Foreign Press had him back this year, after he (supposedly) did jokes in 2010 they told him not to do. Kudos to the President of the HFPA, Robert Downey, and Tom Hanks for taking pot shots back at Ricky. Bruce Willis tried, but failed.

Regardless, I was quite surprised and a little disappointed over several of the early awards. Christian Bale getting the first award for Best Supporting set my teeth on edge a bit; certainly winning over Geoffrey Rush was utterly weird to me. Really? Christian playing an obnoxious loud mouthed drunk/drug addict was better than Geoffrey playing a speech therapist? Wow. OK. That was followed by “Carlos” getting the nod over “Pillars of the Earth” or “The Pacific”? Umm, sure, I guess…. I was getting a bit worried already. That was followed by Katey Segal winning for “Sons of Anarchy”, which wasn’t horrible ( I have only seen two episodes) but, beating out Kyra Sedgewick? Oh oh…

Then Chris Colfer won for “Glee”. Good for him. Although never having seen him anywhere BUT “Glee” I was I admit surprised to realize that the voice is not a character choice; he actually IS either a castrato, or the real voice behind Justin Beiber… that was followed by Steve Buscemi winning for “Boardwalk Empire”… and I thought he was there as part of the zombie horde for “Walking Dead”. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t actually expect “Walking Dead” to win…. I just wanted it to. Zombies never win anything.

The next two awards reset my hopes meter; “Burlesque” won for “You Haven’t Seen the Last of Me” (the theme for Cher’s upcoming final tour?) which is A) a really good song, and B) from a really good movie. The other songs were good strong contenders, and I could have lived with “Coming Home” or “Bound to You” also. Trent Reznor wins for “The Social Network” score! Yay! I love Trent Reznor… but to be honest… nah, I would have gone with “Alice”, or “Inception”.

I was really glad to see “Toy Story 3” win for animated. I also had to laugh over Justin being led out by the younger (and taller) Hailee Steinfeld ( I have no clue who she is, I even had to look up her name) which made him look dorkier and smaller in all ways than he is in person. I was right in my first reaction to seeing him throw down street gang sign backstage after his show in San Jose (where the audience were not allowed to have signs… WTF?). His only exposure to the street is having his hand held while he crosses. Anyway, “Toy Story 3” was a superb sequel, possibly the funniest and most touching of the trio. I just wish there was a way to also award “How to Train Your Dragon” which was wonderful, “Despicable Me” because I want some of those minions, and “Tangled”. I guess the nomination is sort of an award.

I hadn’t seen enough of the other nominees to have an opinion about the wins by Buscemi, Benning, Pacino or Lynch for TV shows. I was glad to see Claire Danes win for “Temple Grandin” though. It was not really an easy film to watch at many points; honestly, the only reason I did was because Claire was in it. (grin). Go Claire! Two for two! OK, David Strathairn was also a reason. The two of them really made this story work for me, and the personas just jumped off the screen. It’s the only reason I had to begrudge Colfer his award, because he beat out David. I was surprised and a bit disappointed to see “Social Network” beat out “The Kings Speech”, although Colin did take Best Actor, and I had been hoping that “Big Bang Theory” might win over “Glee” for best TV show, but seeing Sheldon get the award made that OK. Yay Sheldon! I also wanted Depp to win for “Alice”, but at least Paul Giamatti won, so that’s sort of OK. Paul is a brilliant actor. Having Natalie win for “Black Swan” was also good, although I had not seen any of the other nominees there either. I just really liked Black Swan. “Burlesque” losing out to “The Kids Are Alright” was also not a huge deal, though again seeing “Alice” win, or even “Red” would have been my preferences.

What I really want in movies. So you should too, of course.

2010-12-06T14:18:00.000-08:00

This weekend I saw two films, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" part one, and "Burlesque". Care to guess which one I thought was the better film?

Let me remove the mystery by first saying that I liked "Deathly Hallows". I have read all the books, have them all in hardbound First Editions in fact (geek), and enjoyed them immensely, even standing in line twice to get the first copies (uber-geek). I've enjoyed all the movies. I think the casting has been superb (Tonks is hot) and the direction, cinematography and screenwriting have all been excellent. (Note to WingNut Productions; THIS is how you adapt a novel, Peter, Fran and Phillipa. Note that NONE of the characters here behaved DIFFERENTLY than they do in the books.....idiots.)

"Deathly Hallows" presents some (well, all) of the challenges of a novel versus a screenplay. One, it's huge. Two, it's HUGE. Three, pacing in a novel can be glacial, then cheetah. A film needs a bit more evenness to it. In the novel, Ron, Hermione and Harry spend, oh, six chapters or so.... camping. And bitch fighting. And camping some more. Then they spend some time ambling about. Finally some two hundred pages in they fight for their lives. From a film standpoint it's like taking the first hour of "My Dinner
With Andre" and then strapping on the last hour of "Shoot'em Up".

"Snooooooozzzzzzzeeee.. AAiiieeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!"

I really felt the writers, director etc. did a fantastic job here. They kept huge sections of dialogue and action, kept the characters true (Fran, Peter, pay attention here) and for the people who wanted every moment and word in the book on the screen, they... well.... OK, those people got screwed. Tough. Deal with it. All the key elements were there (and yes, you who know me and read the book, I got misty once, and of course had to wipe my eyes later. You know what I'm talking about...). The movie ended at a properly climactic moment, and certainly left me ready to see part two.

Still, "Burlesque" was much better I thought.

OK, hear me out. I'm expecting to take toon-ville levels of crap over this. Nevertheless....

"Burlesque" stole pretty liberally from the "Coyote Ugly" script, to my mind. Girl with talent goes to big city, falls into a potentially awesome job, gets robbed, meets a boy..... yeah, OK, I got it. Harry Potter is not exactly new either (ducks). The point is that from a performance stand- point, "Burlesque" simply takes you and whirls you away so prettily you don't notice if there are gaping plot holes or not. Nor did I care. I went to see Cher and Christina perform. I got that, and then some.

These are two of the women in modern music with simply massive vocal talents. The film lets them use them, and in a logical fashion given the setting; not American Musical "I am angry! I should sing a song about anger!" style. The cinematography is better than "Cabaret" (ducks again) or "Moulin Rouge" (ducks again? did anyone like this?). The sets are equal to anything Ziegfeld Follies ever did. How they got them in that little club is one of the things you just look at and go "So what?"

Then there are the acting abilities. Cher, well we all know she can act, and brilliantly. Christina on the other hand.... this is her first film. She might have done some TV. Whatever. She's unlikely to grab an Oscar nod for this, but she held her own with Cher, and with Stanley Tucci. He's another reason to see this. If you like him at all, you will love watching two moments of Oscar worthy ability. First is the perfectly droll and deadpan "I never loved you", and later when Cher calls him an asshole..... and there are dozens of others. I'm not going to give any spoilers on his role; if you act, you should see this just for him.

Eric Dane (McSteamy from "Grey's Anatomy") and Alan Cumming (Nightcrawler from "X-Men" and the Tin Man from HBO's "Tin Man" Oz adaptation) are also spectacular in this. The romantic lead.... uhh, whose name I forgot..... wait.... IMDB rules! Cam Gigandet (WTF? I'll never remember that one...) oh. Derp. From "Twilight" (ick) and "New Moon" (ick ick) and "Pandorum" and "Easy A"... shit. No wonder he looked familiar. DERP. Anyway, they were also great in this, and gave both women plenty to work off of. Frankly, Cher and Christina could (and should!) take this on the road, using the sets, dancers, back up vocals etc., and the music. Screw the story, just belt the songs in order. Because Cher's voice is still strong at 64; its as hot as Tina Turners legs..... and Christina? Yow. I confess I worked her shows, and only discovered then she had an amazing voice. I still own no CD's for either woman..... (the Cher tour DVD does NOT count..) but I'm going to get this soundtrack. And listen in my car. Yeah, you heard me.

Don't be hatin...

Neither snow nor rain...

2010-10-25T18:43:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, being a stagehand is nothing more than hours of labor; lifting, pushing, pulling and carrying someone else's crap, and assembling it so they can strut and preen in the public eye; I'm thinking Prince here, or maybe Britney. Then there are days like the last two.

I worked the Bridge School Benefit show for the first time this year, as a follow spot operator. For more than eight hours Saturday, and another eight on Sunday, I sat inside a
ten foot wide, eight foot deep metal box atop a thirty foot tall post, wielding my 300 pound, six and a half foot long spotlight. Saturday I was lashed periodically by wind and intermittent rain, so often that my pant legs and sleeves were wet by the end of the show, even though I was sitting 2 feet back from the opening. Sunday I wore a poncho for the first two hours. Still, my legs and sleeves got pretty damp, and it was not warm at all.

It was worth it.

To begin with, I got to see some of the students who have benefitted from the Bridge School program; students who, in our all too often cookie-cutter mindset society, would have been pushed aside by the public school system; left to waste tragically because they are disabled in some manner. I did not hear the name of the woman that Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder congratulated on recieving her bachelors degree. I did hear the emotion in his voice as he told the crowd how proud he was of her efforts. I wish I could have picked her out sooner, in order to get my spotlight on her; but 250 feet of seperation made it hard to do.... she was actually behind the camera operator from my vantage at first, then it was too late...

I also have to say that of all the bands, star performers, and major artists I saw there, the performance that completely blew me away was Sir Elton John and Leon Russell together on stage as part of T. Bone Burnett's "Speaking Clock Revue". I don't mean to slight the other artists; Kris Kristofferson, Neil Young and Buffalo Springfield, Elvis Costello, Billy Idol, Emmylou Harris, Lucinda Williams, Karen Elson, Jeff Bridges.... all the others performed amazing sets. Ralph Stanley "the oldest and greatest country singer" according to Elvis Costello, even did one of the few country songs I like "Man of Constant Sorrow" which was so big in the film "O Brother Where Art Thou". Also known as "The Odyssey" for those of us with a classical education...

The 30 minute or more set by Sir Elton and Leon was the pinnacle for me. I understand that Leon was not feeling at all well, and in fact had to leave before the finale of the show; if that's how good he is when he's sick, I can't imagine what the set would have been like if he was feeling 100%. Added to that was the unbelievable voice of one of the four female backup singers, (whose names I can't find anywhere, guess I have to buy the CD... which I will), who did a sustain on one song that makes the best of Idina Menzel and Kristen Chenoweth on "Wicked" sound like one bar humming. I have no clue what the song was; I'm not even sure it's on the "Union" cd.... I just sat there, spellbound. Whoever she is, I think she's wasted as a backup vocalist.

I'm glad that after all this time, Sir Elton and Leon are performing side-by-side, a duet that is so powerful and so complementary, I wonder if Billy Joel will have to tour alone from now one. Or maybe, just MAYBE.....

I have the coolest job in the world.

Great new movies

2010-09-24T01:04:00.000-07:00

Today I saw both "The Town" and "Easy A".

"The Town" is Ben Affleck's second turn at directing, after "Gone Baby Gone". I have to say, it's an order of magnitude better. While "Gone Baby.." was well done. "The Town" has superb pacing from the start. You are immersed in seconds in the gang, and the nature of the two principles is made clear within the first two minutes. From there on, while it follows a fairly standard plotline for Action/Romance, it's still handled deftly enough that, well, you don't care. The moments of humor are inserted right where they are needed, even during, oh, say, a robbery. When the scene calls for action, you get it in spades.

The funny moments include a short written note near the end that is as funny as the wonderful "how do ya like THEM apples?" from "Good Will Hunting" and felt like a nod to that moment. Sure, lots of the story has already been told in the trailers; you know that Ben's character "Wants out of this life of crime and villainy". So he's the classic whore with a heart of gold Hollywood adores. Again, who cares? Rebecca Hall as the female lead has that same girl-next-door unaffected beauty that Minnie Driver had; and it works just as well. A solid four wombats.

"Easy A" looks like a fairly typical teen-romance-comedy-angst-recovery movie. It is. But that's like saying "Juno" is about a pregnant 16 year old. While true, that's not even the cherry on he top of the sundae; it's the bowl it gets served in. The narrative POV works perfectly for this film, and it's as funny and as full of memorable quotes as "Juno" was. "What, do I have a gnome down there?" By the time that line was delivered, I was already laughing as hard a I did over the "Mr. Burrito" bit from "Toy Story 3". OK, maybe not QUITE that hard. Close though.

Emma Stone is pretty, and at 22 (yes, I looked) still can play a high school senior convincingly. Amanda Bynes as her nemesis is PERFECT, and if you don't want to clip her with a guitar 30 minutes in, you are a zombie. Stanley Tucci as Emma's dad is spot-on, and the dialogue is not only well written, it's flawlessly executed by the cast and the director. Five good fat wombats for this one; it goes in my library once it's out.

Theatre ghosts

2010-08-20T18:09:00.000-07:00

Another of my "epic" dreams today; yeah , you know the ones I mean, the ones that read like a movie script. The ones I can recall in detail years later. This one featured my friends Kim Saunders, Alea Selburn, Dennis Serras, and Jessica Teeter. Hi guys!

I am returning from an evening somewhere in town; the place feels East-coast; older, with a sense of presence you don't really feel in, say downtown Sacramento, or Denver.... even Chicago. The sober seniority of Philadelphia, the somber practicality of Boston. A place where there are buildings that have been standing unchanged for 200 years, block after block.

I am heading towards the theatre where I am currently working as the fight director for a pirate-themed play. It seems like a staged version of something like "Pirates of the Caribbean.". The theatre itself is well over a hundred years old, and has architecture more like a gothic cathedral than a stage. The lobby has high rectangular windows with stained glass, as does the greenroom and backstage area, and the small rehearsal stage.. I'm entering from the greenroom door to the outside, and my friend Alea is with me. We have had dinner together maybe, or have just run into each other in the parking lot. Both of us are just stopping by; rehearsal is over, and we both need to chat with the director perhaps, or the stage manager, some utterly mundane task. As we walk in we are both laughing over a story Alea has just told.

Like all large older theatres, and even a few small ones, this theatre has a reputation for being haunted. This place deserves the reputation more than most however. No one has EVER spent the night here. Props, costumes, and even furniture and set pieces are always found moved the next day. And no one who has ever been there to turn out the lights at night, even if they have people with them, is in the slightest doubt that when the shadows fill the stage, some of them move on their own volition.

This night is different; it's like walking in to the middle of a static charge, or an EMP burst. While the hair on my neck and arms doesn't stand on end, I'm left wondering why they are not, until I realize the psychic pressure is pushing them flat. If this were a horror film, I would be locking the doors in a mortuary. When I turned around, every corpse in the place would be sitting bolt upright, staring blankly forward.

There are a half-dozen people inside, trying in desperation to get everything put away properly and get out. The atmosphere is so intense however that they are bumbling about, or stopping and fidgeting, trying to remember what they were just doing..... Alea and I are standing just inside the door, and staring in amazement at what is going on. Jessica is towards the back of the greenroom area, and she looks like a cat that has been dropped in a dog run full of hyenas. She is moving back and forth in an area maybe five feet long, her arms full of costumes, seemingly unable to decide what to do with them; Dennis is standing by the rack of weapons for the show, with a sword held in his hand, but he seems rooted to the spot. Kim is the only one moving with some purpose; she has seen Alea and I standing there and is running over to us.

Kim already has large eyes; right now, I could put a fresnel lens in one and it would fit like a contact. For the first time I notice that instead of the classic horror-story chill, the room is hot, almost stifling; it's like walking on the tarmac of the airport in Houston in August. Kim is grabbing at Alea and trying to get her to leave, all the time holding her arm like it's her only anchor to reality. Dennis looks at me, and says, in the calm way only he has mastered for understatement "Scott, we seem to be in trouble here..."

The pressure eases for a moment, as I start laughing at this. Everyone else who has heard it is also starting to laugh, and those others most disoriented calm a bit and even manage weak laughter themselves. Whatever force it is causing this draws back, not in retreat, or anger; there is no malice to this at all. Any more than there is malice in heavy rain, or arctic cold. It is simply immense, like a tidal wave or an avalanche. The attitude is more like one of study, and..... waiting.

I can't escape my basic nature. I can see how panicked everyone is, and I'm angry over how badly it's affected Jessica. Kim and Dennis have now moved back towards the door Alea and I are near, all trying to tell us at once how this just swept over them suddenly, and how they knew they had to put everything back properly before they left.... Alea is trying to calm them all down, and I am glaring at the door to the side of the stage entrance. That door leads to a short hallway, with two other doors; the first door inside opens on stairs going to the lofts, the catwalks above the stage and the grid, and to the area above the house. The other door opens on the stairs to the basement and the pit. It stands ajar, as does the one going up; and from there, the sense of waiting and of immense gravity seems to be leaking outwards, like lava penned behind a sheet of plywood

Jessica and Kim seem to realize what I am going to do even before I do it; Dennis is barely a beat behind them, and he steps in front of me to stop me as they grab at my jacket and arms. Alea is too far away, but she turns and look at me as well. I don't know if it's outrage, or frustration, my misplaced sense of chivalry, or a bad decision made from panic; it's not bravado, that is certain. My hands are sweating, I can tell my eyes are wider even than Kim's, and I am not sure I am remembering to breathe. Regardless, I grab a sword from the bundle in Dennis' arms and stalk towards the open door. "What are you doing! How dare you! Look at what you've done to these people..."

My voice fades like a dying breeze. Standing in front of the door now are three young looking children; perhaps ten years old each, one boy and two girls. The clothes they wear look fairly modern, like something you could find at Sears; but the FEEL of the clothes is all wrong, like they are all hand-woven. The children themselves are worse. In spite of the appearance, they feel primordial, they radiate a sense of ancient, like a Pharaoh's mummy... or something even older, something not seen on this earth for millennia. They say nothing, but look at me without expression, so devoid of emotions they could be wax dolls or mannequins. They are utterly horrible.

Before my heart stops, they are simply gone. Stepping from the doorway is a woman, very close to my own height but slender. She is wearing pants and a simple blouse, with a trench coat like jacket. Again, in spite of the seeming modernity, the clothes seem like they are camouflage, perhaps for clothes worn last in 1840. She too carries a sense of incredible energy held rigidly in check, but where the children were terrifying, she is merely scary. For the first time I am aware of breathing again, and I also realize that my hands are trembling. She looks at me and says quietly;" So, what were you planning to do next?"
"I have no clue at all."
"Did the sword help?"
"Uh, not really... habit maybe? These people, these are my friends...."
"Hmm. Yes, I see we have done a great deal to them. A pity that. Walk with me now."

There is little real force to her words, but I might as well be on a leash. I could no more stay where I am than I could hold back the tide with a crossing guards stop sign. What happens next is almost comic. As everyone stands around watching, she leads me to various places in the backstage area, where graffiti has been scrawled on a wall, or designs painted on the floor. Some she approves of; others clearly are offensive or annoying. I even have the temerity to ask if one design that I happen to like could be left instead of removed; it's a little painting on the floor of Oz, from a prior show. She thinks about it for a moment and says "Well, alright, that can stay.."

Then I ask about things like the weapon stands that hold all the swords and rifles. "Oh, those are fine. We like the swords a great deal." In spite of the continuing sense of presence, I have inexplicably relaxed while she has been leading me about. Jessica has joined us, sort of, standing several feet farther away, as has Kim, and both of them are cautiously asking about other things, like the costumes, equipment, if we are even safe in there ever again. Kim asks rather sharply "How often do you think we can stand stuff like this?" The woman looks at her and says softly "If you are careful, it won't happen again."

Now we are standing near Alea and Dennis again, who have formed a sort of human wall with the still badly frightened others behind them. The woman with me looks them over and smiles slightly; whether in approval of their heroics, or amusement at the effort I can't tell. Abruptly she looks back over her shoulder towards the doorway, and what ever she senses there causes her to turn back sharply. "You should take care of these chores on the morrow; perhaps the day after that. You should leave. Now."

With that she turns and strides back towards the doorway, and as she moves her outline wavers and blurs as though she walks through a heat haze. Jessica, Dennis and Alea are herding the rest of the still rather dazed crew out the door; Kim is grabbing at my arm again and pulling me. I can't take my eyes off the shape of the woman however, as she fades out into the increasingly watery images near the doorway. When she is gone completely the distortion vanishes too; and for a heartbeat I can see that beyond the shadowed area in the far hall, there is a boiling deeper area of shadow, held in check still by some barrier I can't see at all. The sword, which I have carried this whole time drops from my fingers as my whole body goes loose. Without Kim and then Dennis as well to grab me, I would collapse on the spot. They manage to get me staggering backwards out into the cooler air outside, and as the door swings shut, shoved frantically by Alea, I have one last image of all the lights inside going out as a wave of utter blackness rolls forward, devouring it.

Never sleep after the gym

2010-06-03T04:23:00.000-07:00

Well. This was one for the books. I am a soldier with a sort of colonial marines force, ala "Aliens". We had been sent to a colony world because (naturally) nasty aliens had decided to invade. Or else they were indigenous, and we of course were evicting them. Regardless they were tough critters; over 6 feet tall, and a fire-engine red body. They were chitinous like lobsters, and in fact had a pair of pincer-tipped arms. The similarity ended there. The tails were up in the air, with the head, such as it was, at the bottom on a short extendable neck. Six legs ending in a three toed claw, with the "arms" at the mid point of the body. If you drew one as a cartoon, it would look like a red banana with 6 legs, two arms, and the mouth a round "O" shape. They were not very funny though. The mouth was filled with shark like teeth, and could cut through kevlar armor. The pincers were like tin snips. Not as good against our body armor... but real nasty on, you know, flesh. They were spider-fast, and in attacking could swing that extendable head upwards from the ground to near waist height, while grabbing and tearing with the pincers. They could also kick and gouge with any pair of the legs while standing on the other four. Their own natural armor was tough enough to take several hits from heavy rifles, lasers, or grenades. Mines worked nicely... but there were a LOT of these things.

There were perhaps 10,000 troops on the planet when I arrived, along with two friends from high school (oddly it was in fact two friends, Jeff Adair and Victor Engesser). We had been out on a few patrols, and had our first direct fight with the "lobstrosities" (thanks Mr. King...). Our Captain had decided I should work with two other sergeants (??OK..) and form an "elite" squad of snipers (yipeee!) to work on long range ambushes.

While we were back at the base, I stopped in to visit a girl there I had developed a crush on. Naturally. I'm on planet three days and I have a crush? Come on, even a TV sitcom doesn't move that fast....well, except for "Big Bang Theory"... whatever.... so I have stopped in her apartment where she and her roommate are dressing for a big dinner celebration that night. The girl is tall, and looks like the Egyptian girl from "The Mummy" (actually a Brazilian, I think..) except a bit more muscle than curves. Apparently that was not an issue for me. Her name is Jihanna. I manage to get a date (yay!) and am off like a shot to change out of uniform and get back to the huge hall being used for the party. The base reminds me a lot more of an industrial complex with a support "town" around the edges than either a military base or a colony, but still quite impressive. On the way in I am walking with two other members of my team, and Jeff and Victor. We stop and watch as a rather notoriously clumsy scout tries to navigate his two man ATV around the base perimiter fance... and seemingly manages to drive into, then have to back out of, pothole after pothole. His shotgun rider finally jumps off, screaming that it's safer to walk alone than ride with him. At that point everyone watching starts laughing, including the parapet guards and the lookouts in the closest towers.

On to the party! Once inside it's a weird mix. Half the soldiers are still in full patrol gear; a number are in full dress uniforms, perhaps 30%, and the rest of us, including all the top officers, are in everything from jeans and shirts to semi-formal. The food is also a bit of a mix. There are buffet tables, and also servers bring trays and plates. One consistent element is the dancing and the drinking. Everyone is doing a lot of both, and the number of couples who suddenly vanish from the floor, sneaking off somewhere, is rather comic.

I've managed to dance with my potential next ex-girlfriend several times, and even once with her roommate... who would not be a loss to date... and I am carrying drinks back for all three of us. Suddenly there is a notable vibration in the floor; everyone stops, and then we all begin running for our homes or the closest sets of weapons and armor. As I get outside I can see the cause; another troopship has just landed, and at least 5000 more troops are pounding towards the main gate as fast as they can run. The drop ship is lifting away from the pad in such a rush that the back ranks are lucky not to be killed in the blast wave; as it is they are getting pushed forward and almost carried faster than they are running. From the towers and fence parapets every single guard is firing, and alarms are blaring an alert. From three directions a tsunami of the lobstrosities is rushing at us; if there were 50,000 I would not be at all surprised.

I can see Jihanna rushing towards the apartments she lives in, and I am torn between staying with her and getting my own armor and weapons. I'm slowing down, trying to get my body to go two ways at once. Apparently Jihanna has already figured me out. She takes another look in my direction and yells "Go! I can shoot too you know!" Then she is sprinting off... and waving back over her shoulder. OK, I can take a hint. She likes me! No way these things are gonna kill me now....

The stuff that dreams are made of

2010-05-01T17:41:00.001-07:00

This morning I was having a dream about being in Las Vegas with some friends; one of them had passes to watch a sort of Cirque style show from backstage. Someone in the crowd backstage wrote a note and had it passed to me, saying I was too old and not cool enough to watch from backstage. I sent back a note that went something like this:

I have performed on stage since the age of 10, and have been seen by thousands of people. I have been on TV, had my own show, and have been in two feature films. I have been recognized in a store and asked for my autograph. Only 4 times, but still. I am friends with a famous comedian and actor, and he has introduced me to other famous people. I have shaken hands with a president, and I know someone who was a presidential advisor. I have been in a fleet of limousines, and had a doorman hold the door for me as I got out "Hey! That's so-and-so! Hey, that's another famous guy! Hey, that's some random stranger!" I even rented a limo once just to get to the airport.

I have jumped naked from a plane wearing only a parachute, helmet and boots, which I will never do again even if the plane is on fire. I have looked off the edge of a cliff 2000 feet down into a river gorge, and from 120 feet under water looked over the edge of a canyon wall that went down 13,000 feet more. I have flown a light plane to see a girlfriend three times, and sailed a 32 foot boat along the coast of California numerous times. I have ridden horses, both rental trail-horses and privately owned, and have even ridden an elephant. I have ridden a camel to the Great Pyramid of Giza, and out 5 miles into the open desert in Egypt. Once I even rode a sno-disc down a toboggan run, which was moderately stupid. See parachuting.

I have been to Egypt, France, and if you count stopping at the airports in Frankfurt and München then I have been to Germany. I have been to 18 of the states, visiting various cities, and driven through 10 other states. No idea how many I have flown over. I have never been to Alaska or Hawaii, Mexico or Canada; but I have walked down Bourbon Street in New Orleans, along the Patriots Road in Boston, and had a drink in Ben Franklin's favorite tavern. I have been to Puxatawney, and driven behind an Amish wagon on the road. I have stood looking up at the balcony where the Declaration of Independence was read for the first time, and even tried to spend the night in the graveyard in Sleepy Hollow where Washington Irving is buried.

I have had three major surgeries, and one minor; I have broken my arm. I have held a woman and a man in my arms as they died, and have had to let go of five cats when it was time. I have had three of my best friends die; I am fortunate to have known every one, and gladly accept the pain of losing them, for the honor and joy of having known them enough to grieve.

I have loved several women greatly, more quite a bit, and love all my friends a great deal, though I would not kiss many of them (you know who you are guys... ). I have also had my heart broken several times. That also was worth it, as the love still lasts. Well, except for two (and yeah, you know who you are too...). I have over 200 friends on Facebook, and can honestly say that not only do I know their names, I know almost every one well enough to call on the phone, stop by for a visit, or buy a drink in a bar. Most of them would buy me one as well.

I finished the note "What have YOU got?"

I consider the above to be a good start; I still have many, many things to do and see. I have not cruised 1000 feet below the surface of the ocean, or ridden even deeper with James Cameron; I have not gone scuba diving in Hawaii, Mexico, or Australia. I have not played in the open ocean with a dolphin, though I did get all three in the petting/feeding pool at Sea World to start doing tricks. I almost managed to talk the staff into letting me get in with them after hours. I have not yet said "will you marry me", though I planned to, twice, nor had the chance to say "Well, yeah, I'm here aren't I?" ( "I do" seems so stiff and abrupt...). I have not held my own child in my arms, nor seen them learn, and fall, and rise again, though I still hope to one day. That would be a great adventure.

I have stood gazing up at the moon, the planets and the stars; but I have yet to sail the seas of space. That would be an adventure too. I even know my first course to lay in: Second star to the right, and straight on until morning.

How to spend $34.00 and smile

2010-04-25T21:45:00.001-07:00

It's not often today that you can get your money's worth for anything. Gas is over $3.10 a gallon, because we need to make sure oil company executives get massive bonuses for record profits; milk is almost half again as expensive, because, you know, we have to import and buy so much on the spot market. Darn those foreign cow coalitions... we pay too much for healthcare, auto insurance, home mortgages, pretty much everything.

So: Why is it that after paying $17.00 a ticket for the special Imax glasses to go with the Imax 3D movie, I feel happy? Well that's EASY! Blue stripey girls are ... wait sorry... DRAGONS are hot! (ha ha). More specifically, Blue/Black dragons that spit (Plasma balls? Lightning? Whatever..) are hot. I was more than satisfied with the Imax versions visual effect, and combined with a superbly told charming and funny story, the film is there firmly in my current Top Ten. The writing is excellent, and the actor voicing Hiccup delivers his lines with the perfect punch amd wry humor, and the right amount of frustrated teen when called for. Toothless the dragon always does a great job, though he was not given much dialogue to work with. Having Vikings with Scottish accents just goes to show how well travelled the Vikings really were, and Craig Ferguson and Gerard Butler are charmingly brash, overbearing and simplistic as required. The twin brother and sister keep their squabbles funny, every time they do it, and the kid who simply HAS to have been drawn to look like Jack Black acts like him as well.

The big surprise for me was Astrid; I was absolutely certain that Kirsten Dunst was doing the voice. That of course COULD be because Astrid looks exactly like Kirsten, and copies a number of her gestures, such as the lock of hair hanging over her right eye, the glare, and the smile. When I saw that it was America Ferrera who did the voice all I could think was "Well, that explains it, she is a great actress too!" I have to say, if you are going to see a 3D Imax film, this is the one. The flying scenes took me back to the opening night of "The Empire Strikes Back" with the little airborne speeders racing over the ice and snow. Yow! There is a good reason I think 3D is more than a fad; the visuals here are the primary one.

I also saw "Kick-Ass". Be warned; if potty mouthed 12 year old girls in pony tails are going to shock you, don't be eating or drinking when Hit Girl first shows up. The people in front of you will get really pissed. This movie was funny as hell, and about as politically correct and sensitive as a Beavis and Butthead meet South Park film would be. This film makes no excuses for the level of profanity, masturbation jokes, violence or cleavage shots; and while they don't all get used, I am reasonably certain that all the guns Neo and Trinity did not use were grabbed up by the armourer Damian Mitchell, and the props head. Rudolf Vrba did a great job on the fights; by the time Hit Girl starts, well, kicking ass, nothing she does ( a wall run and flip? ) looks remotely silly. Aside from the fact she is a homicidal maniac, she does a good job being second place in the cute department (for a 12 year old; back off folks (GR) ). As the love interest Lyndsey Fonseca (who is a respectable 24... pfftthhhbbb..) is extremely funny, and VERY pretty. Christopher Minz also has a good part, and actually ties back to "How to Train Your Dragon" as the voice of Fishlegs..

Tears like steel rain

2010-04-21T21:11:00.000-07:00

I lost a friend not long ago. I wasn't home when the news came; I got it 12 hours late. Not that it was news I wanted, but I feel I should somehow have known, and checked sooner. Maybe I did, and it was just that all the other mundane things got in the way of the signal. Maybe I thought the reason I woke up early was because I knew I had to be up at 8 AM, not because that was when the first call came, to the home I was not in. Maybe that's why I woke in the middle of the night; not because the dogs where I was staying jumped in bed with me, but because that was when she left, trying to say goodbye one last time.

I'm filled with a variety of emotions, swirling like a tornado, boiling like lava. They scald and whip me, or leave me in a deceptive calm, the eye of a raging storm. Pain, guilt, anger, and love; all twisting about each other, each one striving for precedence. The pain of losing one you love, one you care for, one you trust is obvious. Its natural, and part of the price you pay for loving and caring. It's the dark flip-side of the bright shiny coin of love; and that bright side is worth the risk of exposure to the dark, ten times over if not more.

The guilt is there too; no logic anchors it, no common sense sways it. Would she be alive today if I had been awake, 3000 miles distant? What if I had called again the day before, since I was doing nothing else at the time? Or if I had gone to visit on her birthday? Maybe told her I was planning on a surprise visit? Perhaps if I hadn't flipped off that driver who didn't signal? Which butterfly in China needed to live, or to die, so that the flapping of wings created a breeze of energy that swept across the globe and held her here? The heart does not know logic. It knows only the now; and right now, all it knows is loss. Like a selfish child it wants, and needs, and no pale thing like practicality will bend it from it's path. When the mind gets dragged in, guilt is the savage goad that lurks around every corner.

Anger is there too; it is never the first emotion felt. Pain is the first, but anger often follows it. In this case too, there is no logic. I am angry at the doctors who didn't do enough or did too much; at the insurance companies who were slow or stupid; at the nurses or even the kitchen staff who made small mistakes. I am angry at petty gods, stupid fates wielding shears, malicious deities and stupid karmic wheels. I am angry at myself for not being there; for not saving her; for not bringing her back; and angry at myself for being angry. And yes, I am angry with her as well. Angry with her for not staying longer, angry with her for not being continually amazing, angry with her for being human; angry with her for hurting me and leaving me.

The occasional calm, deceptive as it is, has one bonus. In that stillness I can hear her voice again. Like that one faint wisp of Hope, still there in Pandora's box, I hear it whisper to me. In those moments I can hear the love, remember the laughter, the moments holding her when that was what she needed; I can feel her hand in mine, or her fingers running through my hair or across my face. Her other friends, her husband and her son, they are there too, sharing the hurt, and the love, and we lean against each other there in the all too short lull; Patrick, Michael, Christina, Randy, Mykael, Stephanie and the rest, like fragile reeds on the verge of a monsoon.

The pain is gone for that brief moment, and I know that eventually, I will turn my inner eye and the storm will have passed; only the peace and love will remain. But in the meantime the tears fall, and strike like steel rain.

Elayne Rachel Fong Chi Sai Yac Lan 3/20/1962 4/11/2010

Movies!

2009-12-31T02:05:00.000-08:00

“Avatar”! Whooooo-hoooooo! Yessss!

Oh. Sorry. Not the usual analytical fare you are used to. Ummm…. Yow!

OK. Don’t go for the plot. There is one; it’s just so been done that looking at the plot is like looking at a “Dick and Jane” book. They run, Spot joins them, they go bankrupt. Seen it already. Then again “Titanic” was just as simple. Boy meets girl, boy gets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back, boy drowns. There is some variant here. Boy meets girl, boy gets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back….. except they are blue and stripy with little glowy dot patterns. They don’t have icebergs. Or a big-ass ship. (OK, they don't. The military guys do). Or, ……. Well, whatever. OK, that isn't entirely fair. "Citizen Kane" or "Grapes of Wrath" it isn't. It is however an engaging story.

As far as the aliens go, they are a wonderful blend of striped tabby (they hiss when angry) and American Plains Indian. If you don’t wonder “did I drop acid and go to Dances with Wolves?” at one point, you did not watch Dances with Wolves enough times. Three should do it. The nasty Marine Colonel is straight from Central Castings list. “Please send over one gung-ho military commander with scars who is evil and one dimensional”. Poof. He stands around drinking coffee while ordering a bombing run. Oooooooh, evil… Michelle Rodriguez (Lost) is a tough fighter pilot. No effort there. Still, she works just fine.

Sigourney Weaver is, well, Sigourney. This role really did not do much to stretch her talents to the limit. “Sigourney, can you be flinty, cynical and tough please? And see if you can give me a soupcon of sexy, OK?” No problem Jim. Zoe Saldana, who played Uhuru in the re-imagined “Star Trek” is not really stretched much either. Giovanni Ribisi plays the naturally utterly-corrupt-corporate-puke out for a profit (see "Aliens"), but does some nice camera takes later on. “Am I doing the right thing? Should I stop the Colonel? Oooh, the stock just went up 2 points!” They all do good jobs, but again none of these characters take them deep into subtext.

So what. Flying things with four wings are cool. Floating mountains are cool. Gunships from Halo are cool. Blue stripy girls with tails and bows and arrows who hiss when they are angry are cool. Things that are pretty are cool. Stripy blue girls are cool. Tails are cool. Girls who are stripy and blue and have tails….. sorry. Looking down off the edge of a mountain that is also floating 2000 feet in the air is cool. Well, unless you have vertigo or are afraid of heights. In that case, skip the 3-D version I think. A few people I know will especially hate the “OK, we are going to jump out of this tree now. Follow me!” bit.

Go for the spectacle; I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Unless you think the Disneyland fireworks show is dull, just because you have seen it 50 times (how could you go so seldom?). In which case, go back to watching “My Dinner With Andre”. Or Gunthy-Renker. One more thing; it’s the second week in the run, the theatre was sold out, and everyone applauded at the end. Gotta love it! As for the 3D version, they used it brilliantly. I honestly can't remember a single thing poking out at me "Hi! I'm a 3D effect branch! Cool, huh?" merely for the sake of showing me it was a 3D version. Instead the 3D was used (liberally) to enhance the environment of the film. When one character looked off the edge of a cliff, I think half the people in the theater grabbed their chair arms in reflex...... "ooooohhhhhh damn......."

Also I saw "Sherlock Holmes" and "Up in the Air".

Sherlock Holmes is exactly what you see in the previews. Robert Downey Jr. is an in-your-face butt-kicking Holmes, who uses his famous wits (two scenes) to calculate exactly how best to disable his foes. Then he does it. Boom. Jude Law as Watson is far from the hapless Watson of the Basil Rathbone/Nigel Bruce versions (good as those were). He also is not quite as tolerant of Holmes as we have come to expect. This is a brawling pair of dashing English crime-fighters from 1890's London. There are plenty of classic Holmes-esque twists, turns, and sub-plots. Plus some cool blowing up stuff. Blowing up stuff is cool. 1890's London is cool. Women in bustiers are cool. Blue stripy girls are ....Ooops. Sorry..... Wrong movie. I really can't say much more on this one without issuing spoiler alerts, so you will just have to see and judge yourself. Best Holmes film ever? Probably not. Fun to watch? You betcha!

Up in the Air is pure Clooney. He takes this guy and makes him someone you know in about 15 seconds. Vera Farmiga is spectacular as the female counterpart; no spoiler here, when they start comparing credit cards and frequent flyer cards, what should be dry as Melba Toast all but sizzles. Plus it's funny. Anna Somethingorother (sorry, no clue of last name...) is cute, talented, and takes off carrying her portrayal like a star NFL Running Back with the football, right to the end zone. She starts off like the annoying know-it-all college grad with a shiny degree who knows all the answers: Clooney starts yanking off the blinders and showing her the real world before they even get on the first plane. Should seem mean, but is done so deftly that while you might think "Wow, he's really being a jerk" you still laugh. And then realize just how right he is, each and every time. Again, no spoilers. Watch this one.

2009-11-09T21:13:00.000-08:00

Just got back from Elsewhere. Often advertised on TV as "Cache Creek Casino". For a place that is only 30 minutes from Davis, or Vacaville, or Sacramento, it's more remote and almost as hard to find as Xanadu. Or Erehwon. No, that's not true; there are signs for Xanadu. OK, library sections. Whatever.

The only sign I had that I might be approaching the place was the sudden appearance of a line of thirty cars in front of me. All driving an annoying though understandable 10 MPH below the 55 speed limit, because there are no actual SIGNS saying "Cache Creek, actually on this shitty little road, only 3 more boring miles". When we get about a mile away I see peeking over the trees a horde of floodlights on poles. It's either the casino, a military base, or the secret rendezvous for the ships from "Close Encounters". Any one will do at this point.

Nevertheless I got there on time, driving from Vacaville where I got a room for $54.00 versus the $345.00 for Cache Creek. Now you know how they pay the staff....

OK, so valet parking when I get there. I have no time to waste in their parking garage, as I am there to see Greg Proops, Ryan Stiles, Jefferson Bryant Davis and Chip Esten in their "Whose Live Anyway" show at 8PM, and it's 7:15 thanks to the slomobiles. I have my email from their Guest Services manager, and this saves the day; when I walk up the clerk at the counter says "Ummm, who said you had a ticket sir?" Seems there is no ticket there under my name. "Your boss. Here is the email she sent." Whooops! She blanched. 5 minutes later her boss is there. Read the email, looked at the clerk, and then escorted me to a very nice seat in the front section. All better now. Turned out the boss was to blame; left the ticket on her desk. Ooops!

Greg spotted me at the bar; yes, the bar that lives in the middle of the theatre. Rockin! 3 minutes to get a drink (comped by Guest Services). Greg and I chatted for a bit, and I got some of the attention celebs get, when two people ran up after he left. "Whoa, dude, who are you? He just came over and TALKED to you!" "Umm, I've known him since high school." "Whoa! Can you get us backstage!" Sigh. "Sure. In fact, we can go up to his room and party later. Wait outside after the show by the Penny Slots. I'll come get you." OK, that's one more turn on the karma wheel for me, but so what. Right now it's a merry-go-round anyway; what's one more revolution?

The show is awesome. These four have a decided chemistry that's better than the Improv All-Stars. Don't know if part of that is that there are just the four, or if they simply are more in tune with each other. Immaterial. They leave people wiping their eyes. Greg opened with a short bit of standup, and the audience was ready to have fun in seconds. "Welcome to Cache Creeks Star Trek room..." and he was off. They started with "Tag", and Greg left Jeff in downward facing dog for minutes. No mercy.

Some gems; in "Jeopardy" they asked for a foreign term, and some one screwed up Fellatio. It winds up as Fellato, and they won't let that go. Chip buzzes in with "What goes after fish?" Ryan:"You mean BEFORE fish?" "Ummm yea, fellat-o fish..." Third time Chip messed up a sequence, and Ryan suggested that maybe if he turned around...... Greg and Jeff have to turn away to stop laughing. The "Greatest Hits ..." songs of the whatever ad bit was Ryan and Greg, and Greg pulled two nasty titles that I have now forgotten. Oh well. The first was a Country Western tune, and Jeff and Chip recovered and did a Grammy winning round for the finish. Then Ryan and Greg gave them an 80's tune, and Jeff and Chip pulled off a brilliant Depeche Mode/Tears For Fears/Duran Duran single that could have made the charts. Well, except for the obvious mockery of Depeche Mode angst, which had me gasping for breath.

They were called back for an encore, and probably could have gotten two more. Jeff and Ryan came out first after the show, and invited me to join them at the C2 restaurant for a late dinner. OK, now I am in fan heaven. The restaurant closes at 11 PM, and it's...11 PM. So what. These are stars, and the staff are all over us. "Whose the bald fat guy?" "An agent?" "Too hairy." "Bodyguard?" "Too short." They served us a brilliant meal, and damn if the food isn't almost worth the drive. No, that's bullshit. It's worth at least 4 extra miles of driving. Plus the menus are actually "white paper" screens with text. They weigh about two pounds. Naturally we all take turns screwing around with them. Jeff is tanning with his. The waitress (excuse me, the Server, Jessica...) apologized that they had no more Halibut to use for the crab-crusted Halibut; can they substitute.... "Wombat? You have Wombat? That will work fine.." She laughed and trotted off, came back to tell Ryan and I that they were out of that also. "Will Spotted Owl be alright?" The dinner was off to a great start.

Finally it's time to bail. They all have to drive back to SF at 8 AM to catch a plane to the next gig. I hung out at the casino for another hour, and won enough on a slot one pull after playing off the house starter bonus to pay for my gas. Good enough. Cashed out my huge winnings of $45.75 and got my car from valet. It's free. This works. And only 10 added miles on the odometer. No biggie.

Now driving back, several things occurred to me. 1) I'm in rural California. Believe me, the hick factor is just as high as rural Montana. 2) It's a Saturday night at 1:45 AM. OK, Sunday morning. Get your own blog. 3) I am driving away from the only open business within 24 miles either way, and they serve free drinks to gamblers. Hmmmmm. Oh yeah, 4) Highway 16 is a barely two lane winding country road, and there are several surprise 35 zones and even a 25 zone. You guessed it; 50 feet past the first 35 sign was a local cop, lights off and engine running. Hiding behind a hedge. Sadly, the hedge was three feet long and maybe 18" high: The cop car was bigger, even though there was a clown at the wheel. I drove by (with several other cars about) at a polite 37. There is also one at the next slow-down, and another cop at the third. This one could have been a problem. I had trouble keeping the car going straight, because he was hiding behind a fruit stand sign that read:
"Watre"
"Persemins"
"Mandarine Ornges"

Oh gods, I wish I had stopped and taken a picture..... its hard to drive and wipe away tears and look casual all at once... The final dorky cop was rolling along at roughly 5 MPH around the last turn where the speed goes from 35 to 25 to 55 in, like, a half mile. No lights, just rolling along on the shoulder. Oaf. I down shifted just before I hit the 55 sign. Wheeeeee! I think he was still processing nerve signals when I got on 505 a few minutes later. In spite of the drive, the mistake at the box office, and the stakeout boys, if they perform there again I'm going. The casino isn't bad either. An odd mix of modern casino and local, ahem, "character". Think the people from Reno transplanted to Vegas. Or, you know, chimps with X-Boxes....

The best part of these shows is that I have an incredible time, laugh uproariously, and come away feeling completely sated. The sad part is that there is so much brilliant stuff going on, by the time I leave I have forgotten half of it. Well, or I could just be senile.

2009-08-09T02:19:00.000-07:00

Jonas Brothers. Yep. Disney at it's monolithic titanic overproduced best. I will say this; those boys can sing stupid pop crap bubble music like no ones business. Well, except for the Disney marketing business.

Once again subjected to the contact-etching shrill screams of 10,000 16 year old girls. Got a laugh from one of the female stagehands when I started wiping my arms and muttering "estrogen, Christ I'm covered in estrogen..."

Advantage to working these shows; 90 percent of the audience are women under 19. No beer or (yechhhh) to step over/around or, sadly, once in a while, in. Very few nachos, unlike WWE.

However, these idiots had a WATER CURTAIN! Yep, that's right, untold gallons of questionably clean water raining down.... around millions of dollars of sound, lighting, video and hydraulic staging. Well what do I care, it's not MY stuff that will get blowed up.

On a positive note, we had 112 local hands to do the load-out, and a road crew who knew what to do when, and where to move it. I was fortunate enough to get the "Pusher" job, which meant for the most part I just walked back and forth from loading dock to arena floor, grabbed the next road box ready to go away, and pushed it to the dock. No coiling of 10,000 feet of 4-0 cable, no handling stuff that got dragged on the floor, no lifting endless small but heavy stage sections, or barricades, or audio.... whooo hoooo! In at 10 PM, show ends right on time at 10:30 PM, and at 1:30 AM we are pushing the last stacks of lighting truss into the trucks, and saying farewell.

My yardstick of talent still stands; Eric Clapton, 8 trucks. Jonas Brothers, 22 trucks. When you have real talent, you don't need a water curtain.

Oh, but they did have Jordin Sparks! Talented as hell, very sweet, and OMG she lost 25 pounds on this tour, and looks HOT!

Tiny Korean girls (Wonder Girls?). Never heard of them before. Very cute actually, no idea if they have talent as I was not there while they were on. Did stop two from walking off the edge of the dock instead of the (admittedly narrow and hard to see) staircase. Since they were not texting while walking I felt obligated. Had they been texting however... hmmmm... tough choice. Save pretty women, or help Darwin?

Last week while stopped at a light I looked over at the driver next to me, frowned and shook my head. He looked at me and said "What?" "You are not supposed to talk on a cell while driving, which includes sitting at a red light" "Dude, this isn't a cell phone! It's an i-Phone!" So, I killed him and stuck him in his trunk..... told him it wasn't a 9mm, it was an i-Gun....