Actually, I suppose I should title this post, "has it been five years already?", but I'm kinda doing a wrap-up of the past month's worth of blogging here. First, though, I must address some issues.
I started blogging about 5 1/2 years ago, at the urging of my friend Crystal. She had a blog, and I was interested in putting down my thoughts, feelings and experiences as I went through a season at a summer historical drama, located near my home at the time, in North Carolina. I figured it'd be a kind of a cool thing, since I had very little else to do. To be certain, I had no girlfriend to distract me!
All that changed that summer. Late in the season, I fell in love with the woman I was paired onstage with. As the season drew to a close, I decided to start a new blog to chronicle the misadventures of my sure-to-be-doomed romance. Luckily the romance bloomed into a full-fledged marriage, and the sweetest two-year old boy you'd ever care to meet.
The blog, however, has taken a bit of a downturn in recent years. I sort of fell off my game once we moved to Virginia, and my internet connection became tenuous at best. I also had some personal issues to deal with, and I didn't feel much like blogging about them, lest I scratch off some freshly scabbed over mental wounds. I've pretty much moved on from those experiences, though.
So what did it take for me to start blogging regularly again? Well, frankly, it was an idea I got sort-of secondhand from my friend Ombra. At the beginning of this month, she posted an item from someone else saying that this was National Blog Posting Month. It encouraged people to post at least once a day on their blogs. I thought, "Hell, at least I can try it and see how far I get before I just lose interest." Even my wife thought I wouldn't be able to sustain the pace.
And yet, here I am. I think I've managed to post every day this month, despite being sidetracked by one thing or another, and starting off a day late. I believe this may be my most productive month ever, blogging-wise.
In the past month, I have blogged about concerts I went to, and a Christmas pageant I was in. I've shared shuffle lists from my iPod, and listed the songs my son can now sing by himself. I've told tales of game show near-glory, restaurant trauma, and Halloween terror. I have opined on election, and more importantly, I have rolled in the sweet smelling schadenfreude of K-Fed's bogus music career. I punted a couple of times and put up small things I scrounged up on the internet. Most importantly, I said farewell to a friend of mine who went far too soon and much too randomly for my taste.
Will I keep this up through December, and in succeeding months? I don't know. It seems every time I announce I'm back to blogging, I get distracted, discouraged, or otherwise disconnected, and I find another couple of months have passed me by. I won't make any promises, but I will do my best to keep a regular schedule.
See ya tomorrow, I hope.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
The Bestest Christmas Pagent Ever
The year was 1996. In the science fiction world, Khan and his followers had just escaped prosecution by the survivors of the Eugenics War, with the help of a DY-100 sleeper ship. Either that, or Cyberdyne Systems was busy building Skynet, blissfully unaware that it would launch Judgement Day in less than a year. Or, apes would rise up against their human masters, or the Jupiter II would become lost on its voyage to Alpha Centauri. Ummm, take your pick. All's I know is that Austin Powers was still frozen.
Anyways, in the real world, I had just completed my second season at Snow Camp, was looking for a way to get back into college, and had performed in The Homage That Follows. As that show was going into production, I found out that my church was planning a pretty elaborate Christmas production, based on the oratorio "The Gift of Christmas." I found out there were roles to be played, and I decided I wanted to be a part of the production, one way or another.
I was a bit nervous about auditions, since my last Christmas play experience had come about 20 years earlier. I decided to audition for the role of Joseph, and sought out the help of my friends the Appersons to prepare myself. There were several men vying for the part, but I somehow managed to trump them all to become the step-father of Jesus.
We got into rehearsals, and were well on our way to getting the show ready, when our director had to take a leave of absence. I can't remember where she went off-hand, but suddenly we had a Christmas program that needed to get going within a week or so.
Joy and I took it upon ourselves to get the show up and running. We sketched out the set and got hold of materials to construct a stage, a manger, and a house scene. We sought out help with costumes and makeup from friends in the community. We took all of our theatre knowledge and threw it into the production.
Somehow, magically, maniacally, it all came together. The day of the pageant, my parents came to see the show. I was fitted into my costume, and combed out my beard. The makeup people had built a crepe beard for me to wear in the show, but I had rebuffed it, seeing as how I could grow a convincing beard in pretty short order. Still, I was feeling a bit nervous before the show.
Now, I'm not one to feel stage fright, and I had been singing in our choir for the previous four years, but this was a different situation altogether...
Dr. Rumack and Randy: This was a different situation.
Ahem. As I was saying, this was different from being on a secular stage or singing with other voices in the choir. This was me playing Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus, miked and singing solo, before God and everybody. Did I mention it was the putative 2,000th anniversary of Christ's birth?
In this situation, I did what I had to do. Ten minutes before the performance, I hurridly excused myself from the cloud of wise men, shepherds, angels, and blessedly virginal mother-to-be, headed for the men's room, pulled the hem of my headdress back, and promptly threw up.
A few minutes later, Joy and I headed to places in the sanctuary, set to sing our songs. She went out first and sang her part wonderfully. I went out and as I was singing, my voice cracked. Badly. Several times. People tried to reassure me after the show, saying that my nervousness just added that much to the performance, because it made Joseph seem more real and human. It was nice of them, but I still felt as if I could have done better.
It was once a dream of mine to play Christ in an Easter production around the time that I turned 33. Some people have dreams of running a Fortune 500 company, I had that. Sadly, I never got that chance. However, looking back, doing "The Gift of Christmas" was a good experience for me. As I noted before, it brought all of my theatrical skills to bear, and I learned my strengths and weaknesses. I also have to say that I look pretty good in biblical garb, if I may take a moment to Narcissize.
Anyways, in the real world, I had just completed my second season at Snow Camp, was looking for a way to get back into college, and had performed in The Homage That Follows. As that show was going into production, I found out that my church was planning a pretty elaborate Christmas production, based on the oratorio "The Gift of Christmas." I found out there were roles to be played, and I decided I wanted to be a part of the production, one way or another.
I was a bit nervous about auditions, since my last Christmas play experience had come about 20 years earlier. I decided to audition for the role of Joseph, and sought out the help of my friends the Appersons to prepare myself. There were several men vying for the part, but I somehow managed to trump them all to become the step-father of Jesus.
We got into rehearsals, and were well on our way to getting the show ready, when our director had to take a leave of absence. I can't remember where she went off-hand, but suddenly we had a Christmas program that needed to get going within a week or so.
Joy and I took it upon ourselves to get the show up and running. We sketched out the set and got hold of materials to construct a stage, a manger, and a house scene. We sought out help with costumes and makeup from friends in the community. We took all of our theatre knowledge and threw it into the production.
Somehow, magically, maniacally, it all came together. The day of the pageant, my parents came to see the show. I was fitted into my costume, and combed out my beard. The makeup people had built a crepe beard for me to wear in the show, but I had rebuffed it, seeing as how I could grow a convincing beard in pretty short order. Still, I was feeling a bit nervous before the show.
Now, I'm not one to feel stage fright, and I had been singing in our choir for the previous four years, but this was a different situation altogether...
Dr. Rumack and Randy: This was a different situation.
Ahem. As I was saying, this was different from being on a secular stage or singing with other voices in the choir. This was me playing Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus, miked and singing solo, before God and everybody. Did I mention it was the putative 2,000th anniversary of Christ's birth?
In this situation, I did what I had to do. Ten minutes before the performance, I hurridly excused myself from the cloud of wise men, shepherds, angels, and blessedly virginal mother-to-be, headed for the men's room, pulled the hem of my headdress back, and promptly threw up.
A few minutes later, Joy and I headed to places in the sanctuary, set to sing our songs. She went out first and sang her part wonderfully. I went out and as I was singing, my voice cracked. Badly. Several times. People tried to reassure me after the show, saying that my nervousness just added that much to the performance, because it made Joseph seem more real and human. It was nice of them, but I still felt as if I could have done better.
It was once a dream of mine to play Christ in an Easter production around the time that I turned 33. Some people have dreams of running a Fortune 500 company, I had that. Sadly, I never got that chance. However, looking back, doing "The Gift of Christmas" was a good experience for me. As I noted before, it brought all of my theatrical skills to bear, and I learned my strengths and weaknesses. I also have to say that I look pretty good in biblical garb, if I may take a moment to Narcissize.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Ian's iPod Tuesday
OK, Ian doesn't have an iPod, but he does have a voice, and these are the songs that he can sing, when he wants to:
Itsy Bitsy Spider
The Alphabet Song
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
Old MacDonald
Frere Jacques
If You're Happy and You Know It
Wheels on the Bus
Itsy Bitsy Spider
The Alphabet Song
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
Old MacDonald
Frere Jacques
If You're Happy and You Know It
Wheels on the Bus
Monday, November 27, 2006
28 Days Earlier
Well, after getting home and taking a break the last couple of days to unwind, Kathy and I (well, mainly the Kath) got the house decorated for Christmas. The tree’s up, the tchotchkies are out, and the outdoor lights are strung up. We tried to string up lights along our porch, but several of our strings were half or entirely burnt out.
I’ll try to put up some pics of our decorations in the next day or so. Sorry this isn’t a huge post, but I’m not in a huge posting kind of mood. Maybe tomorrow.
I’ll try to put up some pics of our decorations in the next day or so. Sorry this isn’t a huge post, but I’m not in a huge posting kind of mood. Maybe tomorrow.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
iPod Shuffle Friday Sunday
Since it was a holiday weekend, here's the first 15 on my shuffle list this week:
1) Nightswimming-REM
2) Other Voices-The Cure
3) Aneurysm (1990 Demo)-Nirvana
4) Brother Woodrow/Closing Prayer-Afghan Whigs
5) Ain't Talkin' 'bout Love-Van Halen
6) Same Ol' Situation-Motley Crue
7) Sunday Bloody Sunday-Pearl Jam
8) Queer-Garbage
9) I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry-Johnny Cash
10) The Great Gig In The Sky-Pink Floyd
11) Love Song-Tesla
12) 8 Piece Box-Southern Culture On The Skids
13) Adam And Eve-Ani DiFranco
14) Love Me Do-The Beatles
15) Boogie Oogie Oogie-A Taste Of Honey
1) Nightswimming-REM
2) Other Voices-The Cure
3) Aneurysm (1990 Demo)-Nirvana
4) Brother Woodrow/Closing Prayer-Afghan Whigs
5) Ain't Talkin' 'bout Love-Van Halen
6) Same Ol' Situation-Motley Crue
7) Sunday Bloody Sunday-Pearl Jam
8) Queer-Garbage
9) I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry-Johnny Cash
10) The Great Gig In The Sky-Pink Floyd
11) Love Song-Tesla
12) 8 Piece Box-Southern Culture On The Skids
13) Adam And Eve-Ani DiFranco
14) Love Me Do-The Beatles
15) Boogie Oogie Oogie-A Taste Of Honey
Saturday, November 25, 2006
A Thanksgiving Song
We spent the Thanksgiving holiday at my mother-in-law’s house. This was the fifth out of six Turkey Days since I met Kathy that we’ve celebrated at her place. The other one was at our place here in Virginia. My last Thanksgiving with my siblings was in 2000, when I went to Georgia with a tub full of seafood from the restaurant I worked at, and took a photo with my other three sibs and their spouses/fiancée.
The trip down was a bad one. We left about two hours later than I thought we would. It rained on us the whole trip through, and Ian whined for most of the second half. Somewhere around Wilkesboro, I began fantasizing about the Canadian Club and cola that my mother-in-law proffers me whenever we first come to her house. Luckily, it was there the moment that we arrived.
Thanksgiving was about what you would expect; lots of food and plenty of camaraderie. As with previous years, I carved the turkey, and as I did last year, I made my extra-rich mashed potatoes and gravy. In fact, most of the adults in our house made something for the dinner. Carol did the turkey, green bean casserole and cranberry sauce. Julie made sweet potatoes, and pumpkin crisp for dessert. Kathy baked a pumpkin pie. Patrick made nothing, but he held down the couch pretty darn well.
For the second year running, Ian ate none of his Thanksgiving dinner. He did eventually have a crescent roll, but we just have trouble getting anything down his throat that isn’t carbs or chicken (“chickey,” he calls it.) I know turkey is close, but he doesn’t get that yet. Maybe next year we can introduce him to the “turkey nap.”
Pat and I spent a good bit of time on the couch watching football, and discussing the finer points of the sport. Julie and Kathy hung out some, but I really wish they had not decided to hold a deep ontological argument as I was trying to get some sleep in anticipation of Black Friday. I was up until 12:30 am listening to them talking. I finally closed the door between my “bedroom” (Carol’s office) and the living room, only to trap Abby, Pat and Julie’s dog, with me.
Abby soon wanted to go back into the living room, and began to growl to get me to let her out. The closed door also gave a subconscious signal to Kat and Julie that it was okay to continue their religious Chautauqua at a substantially louder volume level. I can’t remember if I fell asleep because they stopped talking or because I passed out from exhaustion. All I know is that the next thing I know, Pat was knocking at my door telling me it was 3:30 and time to go.
We drove back yesterday, because we wanted to beat this weekend’s traffic rush. The trip was much more pleasant and enjoyable than the trip down. We stopped at a truck stop/Taco Bell for our dinner, and while we were there, I saw what had to be the world’s saddest claw game. There was a distinct paucity of prizes to be won, and what was in there was nothing that I would willingly spend 25¢ for. When the “top” prize is a stuffed figure of Meg from Family Guy, maybe it’s time to do a little refill.
In any case, we’re back home and preparing for the Christmas season. Kathy has to take two trips over the next couple of weeks, and we’re planning to have an open house. It should be an interesting month.
Happy Holidays, y’all!
The trip down was a bad one. We left about two hours later than I thought we would. It rained on us the whole trip through, and Ian whined for most of the second half. Somewhere around Wilkesboro, I began fantasizing about the Canadian Club and cola that my mother-in-law proffers me whenever we first come to her house. Luckily, it was there the moment that we arrived.
Thanksgiving was about what you would expect; lots of food and plenty of camaraderie. As with previous years, I carved the turkey, and as I did last year, I made my extra-rich mashed potatoes and gravy. In fact, most of the adults in our house made something for the dinner. Carol did the turkey, green bean casserole and cranberry sauce. Julie made sweet potatoes, and pumpkin crisp for dessert. Kathy baked a pumpkin pie. Patrick made nothing, but he held down the couch pretty darn well.
For the second year running, Ian ate none of his Thanksgiving dinner. He did eventually have a crescent roll, but we just have trouble getting anything down his throat that isn’t carbs or chicken (“chickey,” he calls it.) I know turkey is close, but he doesn’t get that yet. Maybe next year we can introduce him to the “turkey nap.”
Pat and I spent a good bit of time on the couch watching football, and discussing the finer points of the sport. Julie and Kathy hung out some, but I really wish they had not decided to hold a deep ontological argument as I was trying to get some sleep in anticipation of Black Friday. I was up until 12:30 am listening to them talking. I finally closed the door between my “bedroom” (Carol’s office) and the living room, only to trap Abby, Pat and Julie’s dog, with me.
Abby soon wanted to go back into the living room, and began to growl to get me to let her out. The closed door also gave a subconscious signal to Kat and Julie that it was okay to continue their religious Chautauqua at a substantially louder volume level. I can’t remember if I fell asleep because they stopped talking or because I passed out from exhaustion. All I know is that the next thing I know, Pat was knocking at my door telling me it was 3:30 and time to go.
We drove back yesterday, because we wanted to beat this weekend’s traffic rush. The trip was much more pleasant and enjoyable than the trip down. We stopped at a truck stop/Taco Bell for our dinner, and while we were there, I saw what had to be the world’s saddest claw game. There was a distinct paucity of prizes to be won, and what was in there was nothing that I would willingly spend 25¢ for. When the “top” prize is a stuffed figure of Meg from Family Guy, maybe it’s time to do a little refill.
In any case, we’re back home and preparing for the Christmas season. Kathy has to take two trips over the next couple of weeks, and we’re planning to have an open house. It should be an interesting month.
Happy Holidays, y’all!
Friday, November 24, 2006
When Black Friday Comes...
I just woke up from a nap, thanks to the first Black Friday I've ever gone through. My mother-in-law and brother-in-law decided to go to Walmart to try and get a 52" projection TV for $500. Kathy saw this ad, and thought it might be nice if I could secure us one of these TVs for that price, seeing as how they had HDTV built in.
I woke up at 3:30 this morning, and went out with the in laws to Walmart. We waited for about an hour outside the store, drinking coffee and fantasizing about a killer Super Bowl party. When the appointed hour came, we rushed into the store, and made our way to the electronics department, just in time to find out that all the TVs had been sold out.
My mother-in-law ended up buying two smaller HDTVs, and a portable DVD player. I ended up getting nothing but an exhausted feeling, and a steak biscuit combo at Hardee's. Meh; maybe I'll do it again next year, but I'll be sure to go to bed much earlier (and with earplugs) if I do.
I woke up at 3:30 this morning, and went out with the in laws to Walmart. We waited for about an hour outside the store, drinking coffee and fantasizing about a killer Super Bowl party. When the appointed hour came, we rushed into the store, and made our way to the electronics department, just in time to find out that all the TVs had been sold out.
My mother-in-law ended up buying two smaller HDTVs, and a portable DVD player. I ended up getting nothing but an exhausted feeling, and a steak biscuit combo at Hardee's. Meh; maybe I'll do it again next year, but I'll be sure to go to bed much earlier (and with earplugs) if I do.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Giving Thanks
I hope I can get this in before midnight, but if I can't, that's cool.
These are the things I am thankful for this year:
My wife and my son, the two greatest joys in my life. They make me laugh, give me love without question, and they complete me (apologies to Cameron Crowe).
My friends, be they a room away or across the nation. I've learned that even if I go months or even years without seeing or hearing from them, that we are never far from the thoughts of one another. To those of you who I haven't seen in years, I wish you well, and hope to see you again someday.
Making it to 40 without becoming all the bad things that were predicted of me. I may not be where I want to be yet, career wise, but I'm getting there. As I once said in a children's show, "slow and steady wins the race."
My family, by blood and by marriage. You are a complete and total crazy quilt of opinions, likes and dislikes, quirks, and temperaments. Thank you for being who you are; I wouldn't have it any other way.
My job. There may be days where it seems like I'd be better off playing "Mr. Mom" all day long, but I still feel what I do is a vital part of the company's operation, and even if I am sometimes overused and underpaid in that capacity, it's what I have.
My country. I am grateful for living in a nation where I can speak out against my elected leaders if I disagree with them, without fear of reprisals or life-threatening consequences. I am glad to live in a land where, if I feel the government is not serving the general welfare, I (and millions of my fellow citizens) can change the government without lifting a gun or making a Molotov.
My God. I thank my Holy Father for giving me life, guiding me through the steps of my life, protecting me from destruction from without and within, and for giving me the gifts I have to survive and thrive in this world.
Oops, I didn't make it to midnight. Looks like I'll have to shake off the turkey nap tomorrow (or later today) to post about... something!
'Til then, true believers.
These are the things I am thankful for this year:
My wife and my son, the two greatest joys in my life. They make me laugh, give me love without question, and they complete me (apologies to Cameron Crowe).
My friends, be they a room away or across the nation. I've learned that even if I go months or even years without seeing or hearing from them, that we are never far from the thoughts of one another. To those of you who I haven't seen in years, I wish you well, and hope to see you again someday.
Making it to 40 without becoming all the bad things that were predicted of me. I may not be where I want to be yet, career wise, but I'm getting there. As I once said in a children's show, "slow and steady wins the race."
My family, by blood and by marriage. You are a complete and total crazy quilt of opinions, likes and dislikes, quirks, and temperaments. Thank you for being who you are; I wouldn't have it any other way.
My job. There may be days where it seems like I'd be better off playing "Mr. Mom" all day long, but I still feel what I do is a vital part of the company's operation, and even if I am sometimes overused and underpaid in that capacity, it's what I have.
My country. I am grateful for living in a nation where I can speak out against my elected leaders if I disagree with them, without fear of reprisals or life-threatening consequences. I am glad to live in a land where, if I feel the government is not serving the general welfare, I (and millions of my fellow citizens) can change the government without lifting a gun or making a Molotov.
My God. I thank my Holy Father for giving me life, guiding me through the steps of my life, protecting me from destruction from without and within, and for giving me the gifts I have to survive and thrive in this world.
Oops, I didn't make it to midnight. Looks like I'll have to shake off the turkey nap tomorrow (or later today) to post about... something!
'Til then, true believers.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Appointment Viewing
When I was growing up, we only had three channels to choose from on TV. Cable was just dawning in the US, but the places we lived were too remote to really be reached by the relative luxury of 13 channels of televised entertainment.
As a result, our family learned to like what was on the networks, or read a book, go play or (God forbid) talk to one another. Actually, we found ourselves hooked by what we saw on the tube in those days. I’m tempted to go into a full-blown discussion of what we used to watch in the “good ol’ ‘70s”, but that’s not the point. The point here is that back then, we got the Big Three programming, and we liked it.
As time wore on, and we moved around the Southeast, our family finally got cable. We saw programming from different parts of the country, thanks to independent TV stations like WTBS and WGN, and nationwide, cable exclusive programming. It made a bit of a dent in our network viewing habits, but prime time was still pretty much all theirs.
Time passed. I moved out of my parents’ house and got cable of my own, and then satellite TV. The universe of TV went to 30 channels, then 70, and then hundreds. My attention began to shift in prime time to what I could find outside of the Big Three, which had become the Big Four with the debut of the Fox network. I found myself less and less enchanted by the nets’ offerings.
A couple of years ago, I sat in my chair in my living room, and as I flipped around the channels looking around for something to watch, I realized there was no network show that I had any particular loyalty to. Sure, I would watch the occasional episode of “The Simpsons”, and “American Idol” would manage to suck me in during the auditions and the final couple of weeks, but there was nothing that really screamed “appointment viewing” for me.
That all changed a little over a year ago. In the summer of ’05, I began seeing promos on NBC for a new show called “My Name Is Earl.” I was drawn in by the fact that it starred Jason Lee and Ethan Suplee, and the concept of a show based around the theory of karma intrigued me. When it debited that fall, I watched and all my hopes for the show were realized. I started taping it, and lo and behold, I had a brand new “appointment viewing” on a broadcast network.
I wasn’t sure that it could happen again, but it did a few weeks ago. I had just gotten home from Roanoke, and the auditions for “Jeopardy!”, and I was looking for something to watch. I turned to the local station that broadcasts “Jeopardy!” and decided to watch the show that came after it.
It was “How I Met Your Mother.” That night’s episode was one centered around Halloween, so there was a bit of gimmick writing involved in the ep. Still, it was cute, and had some genuinely funny moments. I decided to tune in the next week and see if the positive things I had heard about it really were true.
I wasn’t disappointed. The episode was very well written, and featured a great mix of wordplay and visual humor. The characters seemed fleshed out, and there was a bit of pathos mixed in with the yuks. What really sold me on the series, though, was one word. If you’ve seen the episode, you’ll instantly go “ohhhhh yeah!” and if not, it’s your loss.
Swarley.
This one word, inspired by a badly misspelled name on a coffee cup, had me rolling. The way that “Swarley’s” friends teased him over the name, and the way they worked it into their conversations was beautiful, as was Swarley’s reaction to the name. Even when he pretended not to care about being called this new name, you could see the pure hatred burning inside him for this nickname. Neil Patrick Harris played it brilliantly, and the next day, Kathy and I were calling one another Swarley and passing e-mails back and forth with the name as the subject line or in the body of the message.
“How I Met Your Mother” has grabbed me and won’t let go. Last night’s episode, in which one of the characters has a deep-seated, secret fear of malls, was another classic. I learned for the first time about the world of “slap bets”, and the payoff to the character’s reason for avoiding malls was damn near perfect. For the record, I think I would rather be associated with Canadian porn than 90s Canadian teen pop.
So, there are two shows I am committed to watching regularly. Any other suggestions out there?
As a result, our family learned to like what was on the networks, or read a book, go play or (God forbid) talk to one another. Actually, we found ourselves hooked by what we saw on the tube in those days. I’m tempted to go into a full-blown discussion of what we used to watch in the “good ol’ ‘70s”, but that’s not the point. The point here is that back then, we got the Big Three programming, and we liked it.
As time wore on, and we moved around the Southeast, our family finally got cable. We saw programming from different parts of the country, thanks to independent TV stations like WTBS and WGN, and nationwide, cable exclusive programming. It made a bit of a dent in our network viewing habits, but prime time was still pretty much all theirs.
Time passed. I moved out of my parents’ house and got cable of my own, and then satellite TV. The universe of TV went to 30 channels, then 70, and then hundreds. My attention began to shift in prime time to what I could find outside of the Big Three, which had become the Big Four with the debut of the Fox network. I found myself less and less enchanted by the nets’ offerings.
A couple of years ago, I sat in my chair in my living room, and as I flipped around the channels looking around for something to watch, I realized there was no network show that I had any particular loyalty to. Sure, I would watch the occasional episode of “The Simpsons”, and “American Idol” would manage to suck me in during the auditions and the final couple of weeks, but there was nothing that really screamed “appointment viewing” for me.
That all changed a little over a year ago. In the summer of ’05, I began seeing promos on NBC for a new show called “My Name Is Earl.” I was drawn in by the fact that it starred Jason Lee and Ethan Suplee, and the concept of a show based around the theory of karma intrigued me. When it debited that fall, I watched and all my hopes for the show were realized. I started taping it, and lo and behold, I had a brand new “appointment viewing” on a broadcast network.
I wasn’t sure that it could happen again, but it did a few weeks ago. I had just gotten home from Roanoke, and the auditions for “Jeopardy!”, and I was looking for something to watch. I turned to the local station that broadcasts “Jeopardy!” and decided to watch the show that came after it.
It was “How I Met Your Mother.” That night’s episode was one centered around Halloween, so there was a bit of gimmick writing involved in the ep. Still, it was cute, and had some genuinely funny moments. I decided to tune in the next week and see if the positive things I had heard about it really were true.
I wasn’t disappointed. The episode was very well written, and featured a great mix of wordplay and visual humor. The characters seemed fleshed out, and there was a bit of pathos mixed in with the yuks. What really sold me on the series, though, was one word. If you’ve seen the episode, you’ll instantly go “ohhhhh yeah!” and if not, it’s your loss.
Swarley.
This one word, inspired by a badly misspelled name on a coffee cup, had me rolling. The way that “Swarley’s” friends teased him over the name, and the way they worked it into their conversations was beautiful, as was Swarley’s reaction to the name. Even when he pretended not to care about being called this new name, you could see the pure hatred burning inside him for this nickname. Neil Patrick Harris played it brilliantly, and the next day, Kathy and I were calling one another Swarley and passing e-mails back and forth with the name as the subject line or in the body of the message.
“How I Met Your Mother” has grabbed me and won’t let go. Last night’s episode, in which one of the characters has a deep-seated, secret fear of malls, was another classic. I learned for the first time about the world of “slap bets”, and the payoff to the character’s reason for avoiding malls was damn near perfect. For the record, I think I would rather be associated with Canadian porn than 90s Canadian teen pop.
So, there are two shows I am committed to watching regularly. Any other suggestions out there?
Monday, November 20, 2006
Clintster On Tour Part 2
I think this Blog Posting Month exercise is really helping me to reawaken the writing spirit in me. Just thought I’d mention that here at the top of the post today.
Now, on with the show…
Today, I’d like to talk about the last concert I went to, not counting classical/art song recitals.
Sonic Youth/Pearl Jam
Philips Arena, Atlanta, GA-August 7, 2000
It was the summer of 2000. I had moved in to an apartment in Kingsport, TN, with my friend Andrea. We were planning on opening a theatre in the town, and providing a place where we could grow artistically and provide a training ground for our friends and for people new to theatre.
Unfortunately, we had a few problems getting our project off the ground, and I soon found myself feeling alone, even with my friend and roommate. I was wondering if anything was ever going to happen with the theatre, or with my personal growth. Then, a few weeks after I moved in, Andrea informed me that I would have to move out within 6 weeks time.
I called my parents and told my mom about my situation. My birthday was coming up, and I was sure it was going to be a miserable one. Mom asked me if there was anything I wanted for my birthday, and that’s when the light started to shine.
I remembered reading in the newspaper that Pearl Jam was on tour that summer, and I had read that they would be playing the Philips Center in Atlanta on August 7, which happened to be my birthday. I had thought about how nice it would be to see them then, but I just didn’t know how I was going to earn the money to see them before it came up Here was my chance, however. I sheepishly asked my mother if she would mind getting me tickets to the show. She agreed, even though it was a rock concert and she was not exactly a rock fan.
All that was left was for me to get down to Georgia to go to the show. Mom ordered the tickets and sent them certified mail to my apartment. Andrea and I had been working on a drama camp project at a local dance school, so once we mounted an almost totally improvisational version of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves”, we split our $200 payday, and I held on to as much as I could to make the trip to Georgia.
I took off August 5, and made my way first to Aiken, SC, where I went to school and where many of my friends still live(d). I had two tickets and wanted to find someone who would go with me on short notice. Unfortunately, no one I asked was able to go with me. My concert buddy from my last Pearl Jam show, Mike, was in mourning for a friend and co-worker who had been found murdered in her apartment a few days before. Most everyone else had to work or had summer school. Sadly, I went down to my parents’ place in central Georgia to celebrate my birthday with them.
I had cake and ice cream with them, and sat around talking about my adventures in Tennessee, and I discussed alternatives to my present situation with them. Finally, it was time for me to get to the show. My parents lived a little over two hours from Atlanta, and I had stayed long enough to have a birthday dinner with some of my other relatives. I figured I was going to miss Sonic Youth, but I could live with that. I was determined to see my boys, however.
I got in my dad’s pickup (I was lucky to have coaxed my Jeep Cherokee down from Tennessee) and got into Atlanta a little after 8. I found someone outside the arena who was willing to take my extra ticket, and I took off myself for the interior of the Philips Arena.
A few minutes after I found my seat, Pearl Jam hit the stage and tore the roof off the joint. It felt like my biggest birthday party ever, with my favorite band ever providing the music. I was a good way away, but Eddie Vedder drew me in to where I felt like I was at the front of the stage. My only regret was that I didn’t have someone there with me to share the experience.
This was a significant concert for several shows. It made PJ the band I had seen in concert more than any other. It was the first (and so far, only) concert I have seen in the Philips Arena. It was the first concert I ever went to alone. And so far, it is the last one I’ve gone to see. Hopefully, it won’t be my last rock concert ever, but I think in order to see another one, we need to move somewhere more urban, and have someone willing to watch our boy for the evening. Here’s hoping.
Setlist:
Release
Corduroy
Insignificance
Animal
Hail Hail
Nothing As It Seems
Rival
Given To Fly
Light Years
Do The Evolution
Even Flow
In Hiding
Daughter/(The Wrong Child)
(Romance, classical song Eddie learned in Barcelona)
Better Man
Nothingman
Leatherman
Grievance
Rearviewmirror
1st encore:
Once
Breakerfall
Immortality
Crazy Mary
Small Town
Porch
F*ckin' Up
2nd encore:
Yellow Ledbetter
Next Time: Lollapalooza and the great big pass-out
Now, on with the show…
Today, I’d like to talk about the last concert I went to, not counting classical/art song recitals.
Sonic Youth/Pearl Jam
Philips Arena, Atlanta, GA-August 7, 2000
It was the summer of 2000. I had moved in to an apartment in Kingsport, TN, with my friend Andrea. We were planning on opening a theatre in the town, and providing a place where we could grow artistically and provide a training ground for our friends and for people new to theatre.
Unfortunately, we had a few problems getting our project off the ground, and I soon found myself feeling alone, even with my friend and roommate. I was wondering if anything was ever going to happen with the theatre, or with my personal growth. Then, a few weeks after I moved in, Andrea informed me that I would have to move out within 6 weeks time.
I called my parents and told my mom about my situation. My birthday was coming up, and I was sure it was going to be a miserable one. Mom asked me if there was anything I wanted for my birthday, and that’s when the light started to shine.
I remembered reading in the newspaper that Pearl Jam was on tour that summer, and I had read that they would be playing the Philips Center in Atlanta on August 7, which happened to be my birthday. I had thought about how nice it would be to see them then, but I just didn’t know how I was going to earn the money to see them before it came up Here was my chance, however. I sheepishly asked my mother if she would mind getting me tickets to the show. She agreed, even though it was a rock concert and she was not exactly a rock fan.
All that was left was for me to get down to Georgia to go to the show. Mom ordered the tickets and sent them certified mail to my apartment. Andrea and I had been working on a drama camp project at a local dance school, so once we mounted an almost totally improvisational version of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves”, we split our $200 payday, and I held on to as much as I could to make the trip to Georgia.
I took off August 5, and made my way first to Aiken, SC, where I went to school and where many of my friends still live(d). I had two tickets and wanted to find someone who would go with me on short notice. Unfortunately, no one I asked was able to go with me. My concert buddy from my last Pearl Jam show, Mike, was in mourning for a friend and co-worker who had been found murdered in her apartment a few days before. Most everyone else had to work or had summer school. Sadly, I went down to my parents’ place in central Georgia to celebrate my birthday with them.
I had cake and ice cream with them, and sat around talking about my adventures in Tennessee, and I discussed alternatives to my present situation with them. Finally, it was time for me to get to the show. My parents lived a little over two hours from Atlanta, and I had stayed long enough to have a birthday dinner with some of my other relatives. I figured I was going to miss Sonic Youth, but I could live with that. I was determined to see my boys, however.
I got in my dad’s pickup (I was lucky to have coaxed my Jeep Cherokee down from Tennessee) and got into Atlanta a little after 8. I found someone outside the arena who was willing to take my extra ticket, and I took off myself for the interior of the Philips Arena.
A few minutes after I found my seat, Pearl Jam hit the stage and tore the roof off the joint. It felt like my biggest birthday party ever, with my favorite band ever providing the music. I was a good way away, but Eddie Vedder drew me in to where I felt like I was at the front of the stage. My only regret was that I didn’t have someone there with me to share the experience.
This was a significant concert for several shows. It made PJ the band I had seen in concert more than any other. It was the first (and so far, only) concert I have seen in the Philips Arena. It was the first concert I ever went to alone. And so far, it is the last one I’ve gone to see. Hopefully, it won’t be my last rock concert ever, but I think in order to see another one, we need to move somewhere more urban, and have someone willing to watch our boy for the evening. Here’s hoping.
Setlist:
Release
Corduroy
Insignificance
Animal
Hail Hail
Nothing As It Seems
Rival
Given To Fly
Light Years
Do The Evolution
Even Flow
In Hiding
Daughter/(The Wrong Child)
(Romance, classical song Eddie learned in Barcelona)
Better Man
Nothingman
Leatherman
Grievance
Rearviewmirror
1st encore:
Once
Breakerfall
Immortality
Crazy Mary
Small Town
Porch
F*ckin' Up
2nd encore:
Yellow Ledbetter
Next Time: Lollapalooza and the great big pass-out
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Shame and Happiness
Time heals all wounds, and I find my wounds left from the sudden death of my friend David beginning to heal over. It is a slower process than I would like, to be sure, but it is happening.
Yesterday I waited for someone, anyone to call me from South Carolina to let me know how things were going. I thought there was going to be a gathering the night before in order to let everyone vent and mingle together. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen, neither the gathering nor the call. I called my friend Joy late last night to find out if she had met up with anyone, but she didn’t answer.
I felt a bit hurt at what I perceived as a slight; it was pure egotism on my part. After a while, I reminded myself that if anyone had gotten together, that the emotion of the weekend and the memories of our departed took precedence over calling me. There were far bigger things going on than connecting with me. Having assured myself that there was nothing personal going on, I went to bed.
This morning I went to church and realized, to my horror, that I had missed a training session for Sunday school teachers because I had become upset over David’s death. After church, I got a call from Joy, explaining that she had not gone out anywhere Saturday night, and that by the time I called, she had already gone to bed. We then swapped several phone calls as I tried to navigate her to the site of the funeral service.
A couple of hours later, my friend Cliff called me from Chili’s. He was with a group of mutual friends who had gone to the funeral, and he passed the phone around to let me talk to them. Some I had last seen back at our theatre department’s reunion in June; a couple I had not seen since my friend Holli’s wedding in 1999. It was good to reconnect, even if it were only by phone. Some of them even expressed hope that when my family and I move south next year, we all can get together more often and on much more pleasant circumstances.
I’m feeling many different emotions right now. Overall sadness at the loss of my friend. Shame at my egotistical desire to have people call me Saturday. Relief at the connections I did make this afternoon. Finally, hope that this will lead to renewed communication with those I reestablished with.
Yesterday I waited for someone, anyone to call me from South Carolina to let me know how things were going. I thought there was going to be a gathering the night before in order to let everyone vent and mingle together. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen, neither the gathering nor the call. I called my friend Joy late last night to find out if she had met up with anyone, but she didn’t answer.
I felt a bit hurt at what I perceived as a slight; it was pure egotism on my part. After a while, I reminded myself that if anyone had gotten together, that the emotion of the weekend and the memories of our departed took precedence over calling me. There were far bigger things going on than connecting with me. Having assured myself that there was nothing personal going on, I went to bed.
This morning I went to church and realized, to my horror, that I had missed a training session for Sunday school teachers because I had become upset over David’s death. After church, I got a call from Joy, explaining that she had not gone out anywhere Saturday night, and that by the time I called, she had already gone to bed. We then swapped several phone calls as I tried to navigate her to the site of the funeral service.
A couple of hours later, my friend Cliff called me from Chili’s. He was with a group of mutual friends who had gone to the funeral, and he passed the phone around to let me talk to them. Some I had last seen back at our theatre department’s reunion in June; a couple I had not seen since my friend Holli’s wedding in 1999. It was good to reconnect, even if it were only by phone. Some of them even expressed hope that when my family and I move south next year, we all can get together more often and on much more pleasant circumstances.
I’m feeling many different emotions right now. Overall sadness at the loss of my friend. Shame at my egotistical desire to have people call me Saturday. Relief at the connections I did make this afternoon. Finally, hope that this will lead to renewed communication with those I reestablished with.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Pleasant Valley Saturday
We got an early start to our Christmas season today. We worked on getting our living room cleaned up and Kathy put up our Christmas tree. We figured we’d better do it now, since the next few weeks are going to be absolute Hell for us. Well, maybe not absolute Hell; things could definitely be worse.
This was also a momentous occasion for us, as we took Ian’s crib and put it in the attic. He’s been sleeping pretty well in his “big boy” bed, and the crib has pretty much become a semi-open storage unit in the meantime. Hopefully, we’ll be able to use it for kid #2 in the near future; we’ll see how that goes once we move away from here.
Tonight, many of my friends are gathering in South Carolina to remember our mutual passed away friend David. Someone described it as being our group’s “Big Chill” moment. I just wish that I were there to be a part of it. In any case, I’m waiting for one of them to call me so I can talk to some of them and commiserate.
Go Buckeyes!
This was also a momentous occasion for us, as we took Ian’s crib and put it in the attic. He’s been sleeping pretty well in his “big boy” bed, and the crib has pretty much become a semi-open storage unit in the meantime. Hopefully, we’ll be able to use it for kid #2 in the near future; we’ll see how that goes once we move away from here.
Tonight, many of my friends are gathering in South Carolina to remember our mutual passed away friend David. Someone described it as being our group’s “Big Chill” moment. I just wish that I were there to be a part of it. In any case, I’m waiting for one of them to call me so I can talk to some of them and commiserate.
Go Buckeyes!
Friday, November 17, 2006
iPod Shuffle Friday
Hey, hey, hey... do the iPod Shuffle:
1) Three Days - Jane's Addiction
2) Hello - Lionel Ritchie
3) Origin of Love - Hedwig and the Angry Inch
4) Goodbye Cruel World - Pink Floyd
5) With Arms Wide Open - Creed
6) Yellow Submarine - The Beatles
7) Pilate - Pearl Jam
8) La Resistance Medley - South Park Cast
9) You're The One That I Want - Olivia Newton-John
10) Let It Be - The Beatles
11) Hamburger Train - Primus
12) Dance The Night Away - Van Halen
13) China Girl - David Bowie
14) Three Times A Lady - The Commodores
15) We'll Meet Again - Johnny Cash
More stuff later tonight or tomorrow
1) Three Days - Jane's Addiction
2) Hello - Lionel Ritchie
3) Origin of Love - Hedwig and the Angry Inch
4) Goodbye Cruel World - Pink Floyd
5) With Arms Wide Open - Creed
6) Yellow Submarine - The Beatles
7) Pilate - Pearl Jam
8) La Resistance Medley - South Park Cast
9) You're The One That I Want - Olivia Newton-John
10) Let It Be - The Beatles
11) Hamburger Train - Primus
12) Dance The Night Away - Van Halen
13) China Girl - David Bowie
14) Three Times A Lady - The Commodores
15) We'll Meet Again - Johnny Cash
More stuff later tonight or tomorrow
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Culture War Report
I’m still trying to get over the death of my friend David. It was a shock, but it is getting easier to handle. Several of my friends called me over the past couple of days have called me to check in, hear a friendly voice, and commiserate over this event. I want to thank Ombra, Cliff, Holli, Steve and Chuck for calling me. I love you guys.
I wanted to share a little story from this afternoon. I had just gone to Ian’s day care center to pick him up and bring him home for the evening. I had the radio tuned in to our local talk station, and kinda listening to Bill O’Reilly. He was talking about the special OJ Simpson is shopping around where he talks about what might have happened “if” he had murdered Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman.
As O’Reilly went on and on, he began to talk about how this was part of the “culture war” that he (O’Reilly) was carrying the banner for. He went on about all the other influences that he was concerned about. As O’Reilly ratcheted up the rancor, I heard a voice coming from the seat behind me…
Ay, bee, tee, dee, ee aff, gee…
It was Ian, of course. Over the past couple of weeks, he has gotten into the habit of singing songs to himself. His current repertoire consists of “The Alphabet Song”, “Itsy Bitsy Spider”, “Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star”, and “Old Macdonald.” For the next few seconds there was a battle between Bill O’Reilly and Ian McGuire.
“…in the culture war…”
…ait, ay, day, kay…
“…polluting our children…”
…ell, em, en, oh, pee…
“…these torture movies…”
…cue, ar, ess…
“…violent hip-hop…”
…tee, you, vee…
In those few seconds, it finally hit me. Maybe our society isn’t perfect, and there are things I definitely don’t want to expose Ian to until he’s ready. However, I don’t need Bill O’Reilly to tell me what’s good or bad for my child, or to call me a “secular progressive” for looking to improve the things in our world that need improving.
The best thing I can do for my boy is to be there and to guide him in the way he should go. He’ll make mistakes, and he’ll probably get into some things that I don’t necessarily approve of. I just need to be there and be the best dad that I can be. I reached over and turned off the radio…
…dub’u, ex, why an’ dee
now I no my ay, dee, ee,
nets tie won you si’ wif mee”
Ian and I rode the rest of the way home with no radio, but with plenty of music. We sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, “Old Macdonald”, and another rousing rendition of “The Alphabet Song.” I’ll take that over another rehashing of the “Culture War” any day of the week.
This is no talking point, this is the real stuff.
I wanted to share a little story from this afternoon. I had just gone to Ian’s day care center to pick him up and bring him home for the evening. I had the radio tuned in to our local talk station, and kinda listening to Bill O’Reilly. He was talking about the special OJ Simpson is shopping around where he talks about what might have happened “if” he had murdered Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman.
As O’Reilly went on and on, he began to talk about how this was part of the “culture war” that he (O’Reilly) was carrying the banner for. He went on about all the other influences that he was concerned about. As O’Reilly ratcheted up the rancor, I heard a voice coming from the seat behind me…
Ay, bee, tee, dee, ee aff, gee…
It was Ian, of course. Over the past couple of weeks, he has gotten into the habit of singing songs to himself. His current repertoire consists of “The Alphabet Song”, “Itsy Bitsy Spider”, “Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star”, and “Old Macdonald.” For the next few seconds there was a battle between Bill O’Reilly and Ian McGuire.
“…in the culture war…”
…ait, ay, day, kay…
“…polluting our children…”
…ell, em, en, oh, pee…
“…these torture movies…”
…cue, ar, ess…
“…violent hip-hop…”
…tee, you, vee…
In those few seconds, it finally hit me. Maybe our society isn’t perfect, and there are things I definitely don’t want to expose Ian to until he’s ready. However, I don’t need Bill O’Reilly to tell me what’s good or bad for my child, or to call me a “secular progressive” for looking to improve the things in our world that need improving.
The best thing I can do for my boy is to be there and to guide him in the way he should go. He’ll make mistakes, and he’ll probably get into some things that I don’t necessarily approve of. I just need to be there and be the best dad that I can be. I reached over and turned off the radio…
…dub’u, ex, why an’ dee
now I no my ay, dee, ee,
nets tie won you si’ wif mee”
Ian and I rode the rest of the way home with no radio, but with plenty of music. We sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, “Old Macdonald”, and another rousing rendition of “The Alphabet Song.” I’ll take that over another rehashing of the “Culture War” any day of the week.
This is no talking point, this is the real stuff.
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