D'Alonzo.com

2011-10-14T23:27:00.000-07:00

I'm very excited, because tomorrow night I get to go see a production of Red Noses, as performed by The Actors Gang, one of the best theater troupes in Los Angeles. Those of you that know me know that I've been obsessed with the show for the better part of the last 20 years, and I even directed a production in Austin back in 2004.

Getting ready to see it for the first time since then reminds me of that amazing and crazy six months, the 30-some people who worked their faces off to make the play happen, and the immense sense of gratitude I have to those amazing men and women, who made one of the most ridiculous ideas I've ever had come to fruition in the most amazing way.

I'm sure almost none of you will read this, but I love you all. Still. And every day, I look at the Damned poster on my wall, given to me by Charles, one of the amazing actors of that cast, and I think about what we all did together.

I look forward to seeing another group of Floties, but mine is mine. Forever.

Musical Accompaniment:

2011-09-30T12:24:00.001-07:00

For you House fans out there, the following video is a testament to the idea that what Hugh Laurie is really, really good at is comedy.

I, for one, would love to see a Fry and Laurie reunion. What do you think?

2011-09-29T15:57:00.000-07:00

Hello, Autumn!

I'm sad to say this, but I didn't know it was already Fall, because I was busy traveling this past weekend, but it's here, which means, most importantly, that Summer is over, though my friends in Austin would probably disagree with that idea.

I had a great summer. My friend Jeremy got married, which was awesome. Got to go to New York and home and Austin and Colorado and San Diego. My birthday kicked ass, I went to the county fair for the first time. My divorce is final.

I fell in love. That was pretty good, too.

Fall's got a lot in it this year. I'm a Maid of Honor, my folks are coming, Tommy's making the trip from New York, Thanksgiving is coming, football's here, I'm going to see The Pixies, and Bryan Ferry.

It's a pretty good time to be me, really. Just thought I'd record it for posterity.

2011-09-28T14:54:00.000-07:00

In honor of the great Andy Rooney stepping down from his post at 60 Minutes, where he's been the voice of the old for the past 115 years, I wanted to share the Andy Rooney game with you. It's old, but maybe you've never heard of it.

All you do is remove the entirety of the content between the first and last lines of each of Rooney's rants, and you end up with some of the funniest wisdom ever created.

Here is my favorite.

2011-09-14T16:26:00.000-07:00

I have one word for you today, fans...

TESH.

2011-08-31T17:12:00.000-07:00

Wow, Blogger. There's nothing like adding a new dashboard to your publishing system to make a guy feel unloved. Up until now, I had no way to view my stats (well, there are actually myriad ways to view my stats, but I didn't indulge them), but now it's right there for me to see, in a tab at the top of the page. And, do you know what my stats are? Depressing, that's what. Seems like it's only me reading this.

Of course, it's not like I make a big deal of upkeep around here, so would there really be readers compulsively checking my blog to see if I've updated it? Probably not. Well, now I know for sure definitely not. And that's ok. I guess this is really just for me to go back to every now and again and see what I was bitching about at the time.

Here are some stats of my own, just in case I need to remember them later:

Days until my divorce is final: 8
Days since I last smoked a cigarette: 10
Days until I travel to Colorado to meet my girlfriend's parents: 24
Days until football season begins: 12
People who care about the combination of these things: 1

Which is what also makes it really funny that there's a "monetize" tab at the top of the page. At this rate, it would take me ten years to make enough via Google AdSense to buy a pack of gum.

It's really like saving Camel Cash. Which is now illegal. And I wouldn't be saving any anyway, since I haven't smoked in (looking two paragraphs northward) 10 days.

You know, statistically.

2011-08-10T16:43:00.000-07:00

Didn't get my 'Lizards,' but it was an excellent show, nonetheless, if you're keeping score at home.

Still, August has many highlights. Phish, my birthday, the return of Eagles football, working SummerSlam this weekend. Not too shabby.

2011-08-08T15:13:00.001-07:00

I'm going to see Phish tonight. They're playing the Hollywood Bowl for the first time ever, and in Los Angeles for the first time in 13 years. I'm very, very excited. The last time I saw them was with my father and cousin on July 4th, 2000.

It's been a while.

As for what I'm hoping to see?

This:

My favorite Phish song, and I am batting 100% for getting it at every show I've ever been to. Even if you know nothing about Phish, you know that they have hundreds of songs, so it's amazing that I've gotten that lucky. If it happens this time, I will know there's some sort of cosmic significance.

2011-08-03T16:37:00.000-07:00

It's funny how things work. When I wrote that last post, I had no idea that, later in that day, something even more exhilerating and terrifying would happen to firmly cement exactly what I said. I don't even know why I said it, but it seems like a message I wrote to myself from the future.

Suffice it to say, my life has taken a wholly unexpected left turn into a vast green meadow of possibility. Possibility I'd thought long gone. I am grateful, I am excited, and I am thrilled to start the next part of my life.

I am exhilerated because I know exactly where I'm going for the first time in a very, very long time. I am terrified because I don't know that I've ever felt that way before.

I am (and my therapist would be thrilled to hear this) ready to start the second half of my life.

2011-07-19T00:06:00.000-07:00

I'm starting to think that a great many things are possible.

This is both exhilarating and terrifying.

I think I like both of those feelings.

More to come.

2011-07-13T18:46:00.000-07:00

Since you asked, you know, things are pretty much alright. I am reminded of the speech the bum gives in 24 Hour Party People, and I feel like I'm on top of the wheel at the moment.

Here's to you Boethius. Good times pass away, but then so do the bad. The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away.

2010-12-21T22:07:00.000-08:00

I feel like I've been here before...

This blog has lay fallow for so long that I didn't think it would exist when I came looking for it, but here it is, intact and bloggier than ever. So, I'm so bored and creatively empty at the moment, I figured I'd give it a new post.

Has it really been two years since I posted to this damned thing? Well, at least not much has changed in the last two years or anything. Moved, turned 40, started a new sketch comedy troupe, in the middle of getting a divorce...you know. All of the standard stuff.

It's going to be Christmas in a couple of days, and this will be the first time in my life I've spent it without my parents. As mentioned above, I will also be spending it without the soon-to-be-former Mrs. Blog. In short, it will be a lonely Christmas.

I want it to be good. I really do. I'm having people over, making dinner, I got a tree, decorated the apartment, and everything. The only thing that's missing is everything. I love Christmas, like, all the way down to the bottom of my soul. I'm not big on God or religion, per se, but I've always really loved Christmas. It's special.

This Christmas doesn't feel special. This Christmas, I feel like I'm standing outside a display window, where the rest of the world is inside, enjoying their holiday, and I'm outside in the rain.

I once tempted fate by saying that I didn't think that 2010 could possibly be worse than 2009. I will not be making that mistake again. If 2010 taught me anything at all, it's the idea that things can always get worse.

I have hope that the future will be better. For now, I have to be content with the idea that I've had lots of happy holidays in my past, and one year off isn't the worst thing.

Merry Christmas.

2008-10-02T16:28:00.000-07:00

Seriously...Sarah Palin?

Tonight's the night that Sarah Palin squares off against Joe Biden in a vice-presidential debate that will likely set some sort of record for mediocrity celebrated as "populism." Palin is, without question, one of the stupidest public figures I've seen in my lifetime. No amount of MILFy goodness wrapped in Janet Jackson's leftover costumes from the Rhythm Nation Tour will hide that. The woman is simply an idiot.

Let's just take yesterday's most recent display of idiocy, for example. When asked to name another Supreme Court case besides Roe Vs. Wade, she couldn't think of one besides...um...Roe vs. Wade. Now, I'm not running for Vice President, but even I can name four or five Supreme Court decisions off the top of my head, and I'm not supposed to be as smart as the woman running for Vice President.

Seriously, I have absolutely had it with the Right playing to the people in lowest common denominator. A couple of weeks ago, I had dinner with the relative of a friend who is a nice guy and a hardcore Repo who was trying to tell me how he was going to lose all of his money via the Obama tax plan. Now, this guy is a copier repairman. He might make $35,000 a year...who knows...maybe 10 grand more. Still, no one is taking his money, but the Right has made him so terrified with their outright lies that he honestly believes that shit.

Here's the thing. John McCain is a decent man who, for some reason, can NOT STOP LYING. Perhaps it's the cold grip of oncoming death and the realization that this is his last chance to grab the brass ring before he croaks, but ENOUGH. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH. Just check the f*n facts (sorry, Grandmom). They're FACTS. Not opinion. Seriously. Stop it. You're adults. People are dying. People are losing their money. Stop.

And get that goddamned idiot off the stage. She's as retarded as her infant child.

2008-08-24T04:29:00.000-07:00

GERMANY, AUSTIN, AND MY OWN PERSONAL OLYMPICS

I'm at the airport in Leipzig, Germany, which is a little like the one in say...Longview, TX. It's small, the people are kinda country, it's quiet, and there's not a lot going on. I'm two and a half hours into a four hour wait to start traveling today, which will eventually be a nearly 24 hour trip from here to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Chicago, and Chicago to Austin, so I can enjoy the Out of Bounds Festival this week.

It's been what you might call a long week. Germany, and especially the people in it, are gorgeous. Seriously. There's not a bad looking person in the entire country. The food is great, and the history is immense and overwhelming, but not in an oppressive way, just in the way that makes you look up and wonder whether the sky you're seeing is the same one that hovers over your everyday life. It's different, but it's amazing.

And I'm different here, as well. For whatever reason, perhaps it's the cloak of anonymity and the freedom of criticism in a language I don't understand, I find myself doing things I would never do at home. Two days in a row, I've been out dancing...in a club. Not something I would conventionally do in Los Angeles, but I fit right in here.

Also, this trip, all told, will have been 17 days, which is exactly the length of the Olympics, which are wrapping up in Beijing in about a day. I'm curious as to what it must be like for the people who work those events to have to live in China for so long. They must feel even more disoriented than I do.

I miss my home and my family, but I wouldn't trade this experience for anything in the world. It's been amazing, and there's still a week left. Tchuss!

2008-07-23T11:19:00.000-07:00

Did I tell you I got to see The Who for free last week? Yep. I went to the party for Rock Band 2 at The Orpheum and there was a 'surprise special guest' that turned out to be The Who. Don't believe me? Well, that's why I took pictures!

2008-07-22T13:29:00.000-07:00

2008-04-17T14:46:00.000-07:00

Today, I'm going to give my travel guide to Portland, OR, where I happen to be for work, visiting the set of Twilight, the film about teen vampires based on the incredibly successful teen novels, which have become a guilty pleasure...

Anyway, if first impressions are to be believed, the people who live here in Portland do very few things...they drink excellent microbrew beer, they grow facial hair, and they read. A lot. So much so that the only "must-do" local landmark is a bookstore by the name of Powell's, a warehouse filled with so many books that you actually need a map to navigate the color-themed sections. There's a cafe, and a line of merchandise, which you can actually see locals sporting all over town. It's pretty darn cool.

It's also dim here, cloud covered what seems like 90% of the time, which would, you think, drive people to depression, but the people who live here seem to revel in it. They don't love Californians, Angelinos to be precise, and when I tell them where I'm from, they have a disappointed demeanor, as if to say, "aw, we thought you were such a nice guy until you told me where you were from." But then, they tell me how great Portland is, and, for the most part, they're right.

The makeup of things here is strange. There's a disproportionate number of redheads here, as if the gingers decided that the only chance for their survival, as a species, was to retreat deep into the woods and hide from society. It's jarring to see so many of them, but also, I must confess, kinda sexy.

The beards are majestic, full things that hang from the face as a defiant gesture of individuality, which is would absolutely be, were it not for the fact that everyone has them. There's an awful lot of hipster here, so much so that it negates itself and ends up being the state of affairs in general.

I got to spend a few hours with my friend Tara Dublin yesterday, who is a local DJ on an alternative radio station, and who I have not seen since we were in college together at Emerson College in 1989. It was a wonderful experience, and I sat in the studio with her while she did her show. It's really nice to re-connect with a friend who's doing so well, and who so obviously enjoys her life. It will not be 19 years until I see her again.

Overall, this has been a really nice trip. I like this place, even if it's almost impossible to eat healthy here. I head home tomorrow, and have spent way too much time alone for my taste, but I've had a really good time here. I would love to come back someday.

Tonight, however, before I go, I will be doing karaoke with a live band at a place called Tiger Bar. That sounds like fun.

2008-04-07T16:38:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged in a while. Not that anyone is coming here every day looking for a post, but it's been over a year. So, what brought me out of semi-blogging retirement?

Steve Monell's birthday. The Dog is 43 this year, I think, and I just wanted to come on to this space and tell the world that I love him in a gentleman friend sort of way, and say that I'm very happy that he's lived to see this ripe old age.

Steve's been one of my best friends since I was 14 years old, which was an awful long time ago. So, if you know him, say happy day. If you don't, you're unlucky.

Happy Birthday, Buh-Ddy.

2007-04-05T15:22:00.000-07:00

Working at a television station has its perks. This is me and Johnson with Killa Priest.

Wu-Tang 4-eva muthafuckas.

Oh, and, clearly, westside.

2007-04-04T11:03:00.000-07:00

Taking the Shicksa To Passover

My wife is nothing if not adventurous. Last night, I took her to her first Passover seder, and she was delighted. Now, I might never have described Mrs. Blog to you, but she's a lovely six-footer with some of the most delightful Ayrian features this side of Bremen. She was also raised in Texas. Like Baptist Texas. Fundamentalist Texas. You get the drill.

So, it did my little heart proud to watch her read from the haggadah and run the seder drill like she meant it. The good thing is that the people that we passed-over with have the coolest seder in the world, so her entry into this particular Jewish tradition was as fun as possible.

Still, it occured to me how the whole thing must look to the casual observer. You're making horseradish sandwiches...you're eating bitter herbs dipped in salt water...flicking drops of blood on your plate. It's all so dramatic. But strange. And yet, my wife had a blast. And the best part? She told me how much she learned about the whole thing. I think that's great.

You know, everyone should go out and hit some religious ceremony that has nothing to do with your belief system. It will give you crazy insight into what these people believe and how they celebrate. It's got very little to do with being religious. As a matter of fact, it's more about how people get together and love each other.

In short, it's excellent. Mrs. Blog, for participating to the max, wins my award of the day.

2007-04-03T10:18:00.000-07:00

Konichiwa, bitcharoo!

Happy Passover to my Jewish bretheren. I sincerely hope that Elijah finally shows up for dinner tonight.

Today's news?

Well, for Jews, Newt Gingrich thinks you're the original ghetto fabulous...

That's just funny. Making a bad situation worse...good ol' Newt!

2007-04-02T13:06:00.000-07:00

Just in case you're wondering...

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid Disorder:	Moderate
Schizoid Disorder:	Low
Schizotypal Disorder:	Low
Antisocial Disorder:	High
Borderline Disorder:	Moderate
Histrionic Disorder:	High
Narcissistic Disorder:	High
Avoidant Disorder:	Moderate
Dependent Disorder:	High
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder:	Moderate
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! -- -- Personality Disorders --

2006-12-26T17:41:00.000-08:00

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
His Most Serene Highness Lord Michael the Capricious of Melbury Bubblewick
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

2006-12-18T13:50:00.000-08:00

Happy Holidays from me, Steve Johnson, and Angelo Moore, lead singer of Fishbone.

2006-10-06T16:10:00.000-07:00

This is one of the greatest things ever. Mrs. Blog and I just got back from Vegas, where we had the unbelievable pleasure of seeing the Blue Man Group show live at the Venetian. I love them. Love.

2006-09-28T16:06:00.000-07:00

Also, we made this at work a little while ago to try and put on the WalMart version of MySpace. Obviously, they didn't think we were of the right stripe to associate with other hip kids. Oh, well.

2006-09-28T13:55:00.000-07:00

I had a crush on Caroline Ellis ("Joy") when I was a kid. Perhaps it's the killer legs in the Bugaloo suit.

2006-09-22T17:56:00.000-07:00

Modern, Cool Nerd
65 % Nerd, 69% Geek, 30% Dork

For The Record:

A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.
You scored better than half in Nerd and Geek, earning you the title of: Modern, Cool Nerd.

Nerds didn't use to be cool, but in the 90's that all changed. It used to be that, if you were a computer expert, you had to wear plaid or a pocket protector or suspenders or something that announced to the world that you couldn't quite fit in. Not anymore. Now, the intelligent and geeky have eked out for themselves a modicum of respect at the very least, and "geek is chic." The Modern, Cool Nerd is intelligent, knowledgable and always the person to call in a crisis (needing computer advice/an arcane bit of trivia knowledge). They are the one you want as your lifeline in Who Wants to Be a Millionaire (or the one up there, winning the million bucks)!

Congratulations!

Also, you might want to check out some of my other tests if you're interested in any of the following:

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Professional Wrestling

Love & Sexuality

America/Politics

Thanks Again! -- THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST

2006-09-21T12:05:00.000-07:00

My good friend Steve Johnson and I wrote this. You should check it out.

2006-09-06T10:42:00.000-07:00

Just Flew In From Austin - Boy, Are My Arms Tired?

So, Out of Bounds happened this week in Austin, and it was really amazing. I guess the power of three (Shannon, Jeremy, and myself) really did make for a better festival. We made the cover of the Austin Chronicle, sold out houses all over the place, and really became a big time force in the festival community. I announced OoB West, which will be happening on Memorial Day of 2007, sweated a lot, ate too little, drank too much, swam, reconnected with old friends, and laughed. Above all, I laughed.

Still, it is great to be back home in Los Angeles. Now that the summer is over, I can finally dig into the Fall, which, as you know, is my favorite time of the year. Football season opens this week, tomorrow as a matter of fact, and the Eagles look pretty good again.

For most, Fall is a time of withering away and dying, for me, it's rebirth. There will be lots of news as the Fall season drags on, but watch this space for details...it's gonna be great.

2006-07-24T23:46:00.000-07:00

How hot is it in Los Angeles? Hot enough for my cats to play dead.

Hope all is well in your neck of the woods.

2006-07-12T19:35:00.000-07:00

I'm On TV, The Beach Solves Everything, and I'm Dying to Get On Stage

First off, I've gotten a couple of chances to be on air here at G4, and that's pretty cool. I did a thing called Harold vs. Office Jesus, which you can check out here. Also, I got a chance to do some voice over for Filter, which is another show here on the network. One of the coolest things about G4 is that it has this kind of "let's put on a show" feeling, where they recruit and use everyone around for things in each of the shows on the air. That's just kind of fun, if'n you ask me.

This weekend, I eagerly anticipate heading back to the beach. I wasn't a beach person when I was a kid, but I sure do love going there now. It's so fun to swim in the ocean, and it's nice and cool when it's getting pretty hot here during the days (nothing like Texas hot, but no one here has air conditioners, so it's still and hot pretty much all the time) Also, friends Jordan and Jon are moving here this weekend, so it will be fun to watch them get roughed up by the surf.

It's not all candy and violins here, though. I do love it, but the sheen of fresh move has worn off. The bloom is off the rose, so to speak. Yes, it's wonderful to be back in Los Angeles, but it's also kind of becoming routine, like things do when you've been doing them long enough. I miss the ability to get on stage every weekend or so and blow out my psyche. Soon, I will be pursuing that opportunity as hard as I can, because I can't see myself lasting another couple of months without being able to get that sort of joy you can only get from playing in front of a live audience. Yes, I will be going back to Austin in August for Out Of Bounds, but I need to find a place in LA to do this.

Also, it will be fun when I have some money in my pocket again, but that's a little longer off.

Until soon.

2006-05-30T12:32:00.000-07:00

If you don't believe that people are crazy, then I give you this. It was honestly sent in by one of our viewers. Honestly.

2006-05-28T14:09:00.000-07:00

An Embarassment of Riches?

Again, it's been a while. Forgive me, please, as I blog every day for my job, which you can see here. It makes it a little less rewarding to come on and dump my feelings on my own blog, as I get to do a periodic dump every day. However, I miss you guys, and I miss the Blah-Blah, so I figured I'd jump on and give an update.

Things are very strange at the moment. When I first proposed the idea of moving back to Los Angeles, it was sort of a Quixotic notion, one that I figured, in the back of my mind, that would never happen. Same with finding a good job, a nice place, getting my stuff and cats and wife out here, paying my bills, etc. Don't think I'm being morbid, you know. It's not that I figured that things would be disasterous, I just didn't think it would all work out as well as it has, since all of those things have been accomplished at least a half a year before I thought they would.

This gives me the cumulative idea that I must have died in my sleep sometime in March.

Think about it. I come back to Los Angeles for vindication. I get it. Immediately. Things are rosy. I live in a great place. My wife is thrilled to be here. She got the first two jobs she interviewed for. I love my job. There's money in the bank. My car still works. I feel hale, if not particularly healthy. The weather is fine. I'm sleeping well. Even my neighbors like me, giving me free things like a futon for my office and the desk I'm currently sitting at.

It's not supposed to be like this.

Perhaps, I've gotten used to disappointment. Not failure, but disappointment. Things that happen in pieces, or only about 70% of what they were supposed to be. Or things that were so damn tough to get that it wasn't worth having them by the time they arrived.

Now, I'm scared to get used to success. What happens if I actually DO write a script that sells for a million dollars, and I get a house, and my family is able to move to California and I have amazing kids, and life is good? What do I dream of then? Flight? And what if it happens?

Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. It's rare that one gets the opportunity to finish unfinished business. Rarer still that the return is so sweet. I'm just worried about my ego if things don't stop being good.

2006-04-25T12:21:00.000-07:00

It's been a while. Things are different as can be in my life, but everything's cool. I now live in Calidfornia, have a place, am settled into my job, and have the rhythm of Los Angeles down again. The bad news? Mrs. Blog isn't here yet, and I'm sleeping on a floor, which means I wake up angry and crampy, and I feel like I haven't slept in days. Also, I have allergies, which means that my ears are completely clogged 90% of the time. So, LA looks great, but I can't hear a goddamned thing.

Like I said, though, work is fantastic. I get to sit in a cube next to one of my oldest and dearest friends, and the good news is that it still is as much fun to spend time with him as it was when we were 15. The people I work with are awesome, and they seem to like what I do. Also, I get to hang with some interesting folk here at the network, like Candice Michelle and Tom Green.

I have no furniture, but I pick my cats up at the airport tonight. Ever so much closer to a real life. Hope you are all well.

2006-03-21T11:25:00.000-08:00

This is one my my favorite new bands in the whole wide world.

2006-03-13T09:08:00.000-08:00

Who knew?

You are Bettie Page

Girl next door with a wild streak
You're a famous beauty - with unique look
And the people like you are cultish about it

2006-03-08T12:17:00.000-08:00

The Blog Entry I've Been Waiting to Write for A Month
Or
...Right Back Where I Started From
_______________________________________________________________

Well, there's kind of a reason I had waited so long to update my blog before last week, and the reason is this. I'm leaving Austin on Tuesday, and moving back to Los Angeles, where I lived from 1992-1998. Although Mrs. Blog and I have been planning a move for a while, it wasn't going to happen until this fall. However, I have been offered a job by G4, the video game network owned by Comcast, to create podcast content and produce segments and blog entries for their show X-Play. This is a job that fell into my lap out of the blue, but one I have desired very much since I found out about it.

So, it is time for me to say goodbye to Austin. Although I was brought to Texas under what I consider to be false pretenses, those times are long gone in my mind, and I am grateful and thankful for the friends and family I've found here. There will always be a little part of me in Texas, which is strange for a guy who swore he never really liked Texas all that much.

If you know me, and we spent time together in Austin, I thank you for the contribution you've made to my life. If you know me, and you live in Los Angeles, get in touch. Seems like I'm going to have plenty of time to reacquaint myself with you, and I've missed you all.

I will see you again soon, from the land of the Pacific, where the sun bleeds into the ocean, and where dreams of wealth and beauty are born.

2006-03-03T00:14:00.000-08:00

Every Which Way But Loose
Or
The Universe is Based on Sullen Entropy

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As I spend a lot of time at home, and not all of it quality time, I have had the occasion lately to really think on some quality minutiae, all the while engaged in the thrall of cable television's paralytic net. So, the other day, I was sitting on my couch, taking a break from reviewing porn (have I mentioned how thrilling my life is these days?), and I came upon Every Which Way But Loose, with Clint Eastwood. Now, if you don't remember this movie, it stars Clint as Philo Beddoe, a bare-knuckle brawler who tours the country looking for fights with his buddy and his chimp, Clyde. That's right...chimp. His life is complicated by the arrival of country singer Lynn Halsey-Taylor (Sondra Locke, who was actually complicating Clint's life at the time), who is one of the most abysmal performers, both in the acting sense in the movie, and as a country singer, that I have seen, full stop.

But that's not really what I wanted to talk about. A long time ago, my friend Tim noted that it seemed like music was less vital over time, especially music like punk, because it lost speed as the years went on. Not that it seemed to lose speed, but that, as the universy is based on entropy, it lost actual, barely perceptible speed, therefore rendering it impotent. This, I think, is a brilliant theory, and explains why Sex Pistols must have seemed so much more radical in 1977 than they do now, and how Blondie could ever have been a punk band.

This theory occured to me the other day, while watching Every Which Way But Loose, which, I should note, was one of my favorite movies when I was a kid, and I watched perhaps 100 times on the infancy of cable in the mid to late 70's and early 80's. It seemed as if that, Tommy, Seems Like Old Times, and Report to the Commissioner were the only movies that were ever on.

At any rate, I was hit by two things. First of all, the movie sucks. Just straight out, abject suckage. There isn't, or can't ever have been, anything that was worthwhile about this film. Think about it. I mean, think about the pitch...We've got Clint Eastwood, bare-knucke fighting, Hell's Angels, a psychopathic hillbilly grandma, Mel Tillis, Sondra Locke as the worst country singer of all time, a gag with false teeth in a bowl of clam chowder, and, oh yeah...a fucking MONKEY...whaddya say? I say that Joel Silver would have blended a fucking sandwich and poured it over your head if he heard a pitch like that.

But this movie was a success. A screaming success. So much so, that it required a sequel, Any Which Way You Can. (Which always made me wonder what the third part of the trilogy would have been called...Many Which Ways You Do? A Single Which Way You Can't?) But it was, and is awful...and then I thought of entropy...and the Sex Pistols.

Is it possible, just possible, that this madcap feature was better when it came out because it travelled at such a speed that no one had time to question its suckage? That only the universe's entropy had laid in our lap what we were too slow as a society to see in the first place? And, if so, does that mean that Die Hard will look awful to us in twenty years?

And so, I am stuck with the wish that I'd never seen it again. And that, if someone had asked me (which happens CONSTANTLY) if I liked Every Which Way But Loose, I could have told them. "Yes...I watched it when I was a kid, and I thought it was great. Especially that monkey...and the hot blonde country singer"

Now I just have to tell them that I know it sucks. And never to watch Die Hard again.

2006-01-05T09:35:00.000-08:00

Last night, I did the best and most fun improv show I've ever done. Period.

Last night, you see, was the NCAA National Championship Game, featuring the Texas Longhorns. This is an event here that's tanamount to Jesus arriving at your house. Very big, indeed. Even people who don't like football liked it last night.

Anyway, my friend The Bearded Lamb and myself put on a little show, where, essentially, we turned The Hideout into a live television studio for the evening, played the game in front of about 70 people on the big screen, turned the sound off, and did improvised play-by-play and color commentary. We also had a crack team of dubbers doing commercials with the sound off, a halftime show, an ugly cheerleader, and a beer and hot dog vendor. Just so you know, the degree of difficulty on a show like that is higher than any I've ever had. So many things are out of your control, and the best you can do is react to them the way you would if it were your job to do so.

Now, I was the color guy, and my friend Jon was up in the booth feeding stats into my headphones during the broadcast. And good ol' Jeff was manning the sound, piping in ambient crowd noise and marching bands, and playing fight songs when each team scored. Seriously, it was the best way to watch a football game ever, and being one of the two guys to call it makes it even more special to me.

And the game. THE GAME! Whomever is responsible for fate made sure that we had not just a great game to call, but a consensus pick for one of the greatest games in the history of college football. It was like a script. Great drama...tough times, and ultimate victory. The crowd (and Lamb and I) went crazy. Austin went crazy. 6th Street after the game was filled...and I mean FILLED with people just standing there screaming, kissing, hugging, and high-fiving each other.

To have been a part of that, and to be able to do that show, to improv for over four hours on stage, and really kill...that was the greatest show I've ever done.

2005-12-06T13:43:00.000-08:00

Shadow of the Hedgehog

So, it's pretty rare these days that I get someone calling me and asking me to audition for a movie, even a low-budget movie, but that's what happened a couple of weeks ago when Burnt Orange Productions called me to come in and do an audition for a movie, code titled "Caveman Comedy", directed by Adam Rifkin, director of Detroit Rock City, otherwise known as the 21st Century KISS Movie. So, right away, you know it's going to be quality.

Now, as I am scrounging for work these days, I was also doing some creative work for an ad agency here in town, helping them to pitch a beer company that's local and just looking for some advertising. We went to the brewery and had the meeting, and a load of free beer, over the course of the two hours immediately prior to my audition for this film (for which I would have been paid something on the order of $2500 a week). So, in short, I was drunk when I got there.

They gave me the sides, and boy, was it a humdinger (note to anyone working on film scripts...finish them! Obviously there's not a lot to choose from out there...). So, I put together a character choice (a fat, stoner caveman) and went in to do the audition. Not three words into the audition, the director tells me, "I want to stop you right there. Don't do any character at all. Just read it for us." Which, you know, is great after spending 30 minutes trying remain sober and make a strong character choice. Now, he wants me just to read it.

I read it to absolutely no reaction, and afterward, the director stands and shakes my hand, and tells me, "Funny. Very funny." Which is like the kiss of death to a comedian. There's nothing less enjoyable than giving a performance during which no one laughs, and then getting a hearty handshake and a "no, seriously, it was funny..." kind of thing on the way out. I knew I wasn't getting it right then and there.

But here's where the story gets interesting. After a lunch with my friend Rene, who is the Assistant to the Director (or was, now he's the lead editor...congratulations, Rene) on the project, I found out that I was actually in the running for this thing. In fact, apparently, it came down to two people...

me and Ron Jeremy.

Guess who got the part? I can't say as I blame them. Not only do people know who The Hedgehog is, but he can also suck his own dick. Can I do that? Only if I cut it off first.

So, I didn't get the part, but I'm honestly happy to have lost out to a porn legend. Of course, this means that when I move back to L.A., I'm going to have to beat him out for a part in a hardcore film, but that's just the way Lady Justice balances her scales.

Touche, Mr. Jeremy.

2005-11-23T08:31:00.000-08:00

A special holiday edition of songs that matter:

Alice's Restaurant - Arlo Guthrie

Now, there are about 800 million Christmas carols out there. There are Easter songs, Hallowe'en songs, even Veteran's Day songs, but I can only think of one Thanksgiving carol, and this is it. For me, it's not Thanksgiving unless I listen to this song at least once, usually the day before.

When I was 18, I was a freshman in college in Boston. On the Thanksgiving break, I was the last person to leave my dorm room, and I had a few hours to myself in a place that was usually teeming with people. I opened the window to get some fresh, cold Fall air while I packed my backpack, and I tuned to WERS, Emerson's FM radio station, and they were making a big deal about this song. Now, to that point, I'd never heard Alice's Restaurant in my life, and there was this story about how the song was a Thanksgiving tradition, and being a sucker for tradition, I turned it up, and listened.

It's 18 minutes long, so if you don't have the time, don't start, but Alice's Restaurant is hilarious. One of the best examples of counter-culture left from that time, and a great example of how folk music works to perfection when it's good.

I still listen to the song, every year. It reminds me that I'm proud to be a Yankee. It reminds me that Fall comes with 20 degree mornings, and, sometimes, snow. That when you're 18, it's a thrill to walk to Greyhound and take a bus to get home to your mom and some turkey.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2005-11-21T23:08:00.000-08:00

Ok, this is a call...

I was reading some online Emerson College literature (my alma mater), and it seems that this year will mark the 25th Anniversary of This is Pathetic, the comedy troupe I was in from 1990-1992. Now, I know that some of you here reading this will have been members of the troupe, and some of you will know members of the troupe. I had an idea.

I wanted to compile some good TIP memories and stories to send to the college, and try and represent the troupe the way it should be, after 25 years. They don't even have a website (although, when I was in school, I would have thought it unnecessary to have one, too.), and troupes that go on for this period of time often get some sort of recognition.

It's just this. I feel that my time in Pathetic was among the best of my life, and that we, those of us who were in it ever at all, share some sort of common bond. It would be nice to connect with as many as possible, and see what people are doing and what they got from the experience.

So, if you are Pathetic, or know someone who is, please refer them to me at my email address: mike.dalonzo@gmail.com. I would like to hear from as many people as possible. I'm getting old, and I would like to know that I'm part of some sort of legacy before it's all over.

And, please, if you're one of those people prone to ironic detachment regarding these things, don't bother to try and ruin the experience. Just search yourself and see if you got anything out of it, and get in touch with me, or don't.

Hope you are all well.

2005-11-14T10:33:00.000-08:00

Here's a couple of things:

I watched that SNL special about the 80's last night. It was pretty cool, and pretty informative, as well. I realized something while I was watching it, though. I'm kind of obsessed with Saturday Night Live, and not necessarily in a good way. Last winter, Mrs. Blog and I went to visit my best friend and his lovely boyfriend in NYC. It was Christmastime, so we did all of the requisite Christmas stuff, including hanging out at the tree in Rockefeller Center.

Now, at the head of that ice skating rink, just in case you're completely unaware, stands the NBC Building, at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, where, on the 17th Floor, Saturday Night Live is made. Now, I knew with certainty that all of the people who work on the show would be gone at that point, for the holidays, and that there was no chance at all of me being able to see anyone, but I stood and stared at the 17th floor for about 10 minutes, looking for signs of life, discernable desks and chairs inside of offices, anything that would get me closer. Mind you, I don't really care about the performers on the show. It wasn't that I was startstruck, it was more like I was hoping to get a glimpse of the writers that work there, or Lorne, counting his money, or something.

I feel as if I was born to work in that building, on the floor. I've been writing and performing sketch comedy for all of my adult life. I know how much the show sucks. I hate watching it as much as you do. However, I know, also, that 90% of the comedians on Earth would drop everything to take that gig. I don't want to be on the show. I just want to be a writer for the show. When I stood, looking up at 30 Rock, I could feel what it would be like to be inside that thing. Churning out sketches. Working at the pinnacle of my profession. Making money. It was a nice dream.

Also, I had a great show on Friday with The Knuckleball Now, my improv troupe. We're playing over the course of the next few Saturdays with Get Up, who is Shannon McCormick and Shana Merlin. This will be the best run of improv you will have a chance to see for the rest of the year. I guarantee it.

2005-11-06T12:28:00.000-08:00

Hey, I wanted to give a serious shout out to a friend of mine.

Jon Benner, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving Mrs. Blog and I such a wonderful anniversary gift. Jon was at out wedding, and shot a whole bunch of footage, and has obviously spent a lot of time and effort editing it all together. We watched it last night, and it was wonderful. Thank you very much, Jon. I owe you one.

2005-11-04T09:27:00.000-08:00

Ok, I know it's been a while since I posted to the blog, and the funny thing is that I've got all kinds of time...it's just that there's not a lot of interest going on, and you know me...I've got to be interesting AT ALL TIMES!

However, my friend Shannon sent me this, and it's REALLY funny. Check it out.

Superman is a dick.

2005-09-25T17:30:00.000-07:00

ACL FEST - Day Two

Ok, so today we decided to huff it to the fields at 1:30pm to try and get there early, so we got up, showered, and got ready. This would be me, the Mrs., and Sister L. Well, three people trying to get ready makes three people late for a 1:30 show...so we hired my next door neighbor to give us a ride to the show...lame, right? You bet, but at least we got there on time, and we avoided the crazy heat...

It would be a good time to tell you that the hurricane we were promised took a right, and hit New Orleans again. Now, I don't want my house to be destroyed (I live 200 miles inland, so it would take a weather surge from The Day After Tomorrow to do any damage here), but I would seriously kill for some rain. We haven't had any in months. It's September 24th, and todays high temperature? A record-breaking 101 degrees, again. Except today...no wind. I mean NO wind. Still and hot all day.

So, we get there and set up camp for the Built to Spill show at 2:30, but catch some of the Aqualung set on the adjoining stage...so...

1:30 PM - Aqualung

We didn't get to hear a lot of this set, but it was extremely pleasant. And, he did an improv song about Austin, which was very funny, and went something to the effect of "Austin is the reason we did the tour...you are the best audience we've ever had." If you see him anywhere else, please write and tell me that he does that everywhere...I would love that. And then, he covered "Somebody to Love" by Queen, which was just brilliant...and the first cover I heard all weekend.

2:30 PM - Built to Spill

Ahh, post punk. What can you say? BTS's three-guitar attack was good, and the music was just fine, but they were kind of boring. Not the band to see live in a festival setting, although I'm glad I can say I saw them once.

After that set was done, I took a really long walk around the festival grounds. I'm not sure why, although I think I would rather move and sweat than sit in the sun and sweat. We killed off 6 bottles of water and two 1-liter lemonades in the first hour and a half. So, I went a got a burger and some sunglasses, popped by the Austin Kiddie Limits stage, and then walked through the crowd at The Frames set. These guys are supposed to be popular in Ireland, and it's easy to see why. They're quite good, and it's obvious that it's not their first rodeo. They have the anthemic festival thing down. And they do "Ring of Fire", which is nice.

I get back in time for...

4:30- Death Cab for Cutie

Now, I like Death Cab. A lot. So I was really looking forward to this. But the heat and the time of day soured the whole thing. There were a lot of people watching, so we were crammed in pretty good, and Death Cab for Cutie doesn't belong on at the heat of the day, in bright sunshine. The music was good, but I sat most of the time, and just sweated...which is what I wanted to avoid to begin with...but, NOOOO...

After they were done, we had a decision to make. Do we move, or just stick it out the entire day at the same stage. Well, since Oasis were playing at our stage to close out the night, and I'm a big fan, we decided to stick it out. So, we heard but didn't see Fiery Furnaces, who were excellent. And that Eleanor Friedburg (sp?) is crazy...I think for real.

So, on our stage, then..we got...

6:30 PM - Jet

I know...Jet sucks. I thought so too. The last thing I wanted to do was sit and sing "Are You Gonna Be My Girl" with 45,000 screaming kids. But...and I hate to say it...Jet are pretty damn good. And they know how to work a crowd...and that's all I have to say about that.

So, after Jet, things started to get hairy. We were in a circle of chairs that we'd been in all day, and we tried very hard to defend our turf, but wave after wave of drunken kid came to try and ruin what we'd built. And there was a lot of yelling...mostly of this variety...

"Move your fuckin' chairs!"

"No, we've been here since 1:30...if you wanted to get a better spot, you should have gotten here earlier."

"Fuck you..."

"No, Fuck you..."

And then they'd leave...that is, right up until about 20 minutes before the show started. That's when our circle began to collapse.

8:15 PM - Oasis

Well, it was supposed to start at 8:15...but they were late. The only late show in the entire festival. But it was worth the wait. I'm an Oasis fan from way, way back...as in, I bought Definitely Maybe when it came out in 1995. And I was with them all the way until about 2000...or whenever Be Here Now came out. I liked it, but it was time to move on. But I've been revisiting Oasis lately, and I really do like them.

So, this is what we got. There was some yelling between the brothers Gallagher...perfect! And there was some new stuff...ok...and some old...brilliant! And Noel kept making reference to the Frost Bank building as the "building that looks like an owl". Also, he told a very funny story about cockroaches in his room, and dedicated "Wonderwall" to all the ugly girls in the audience.

They ended with "Don't Look Back in Anger" and a cover of "My Generation." It was, in fact, excellent. And worth waiting for.

Mrs. Blog, who had returned home earlier in the evening, owing to the miserable heat, came and picked up Sister L. and myself, saving us the long walk home.

Shout Outs

The people we shared our little chair circle with were awesome. The two guys from Madison, WI., the girl I was sure was a lesbian, until her boyfriend showed up, her father who looks exactly like my dad's best friend, and kind-of-miserable Disneyland Paris hat girl. You all made the day a lot more fun. I salute you!

2005-09-24T10:38:00.000-07:00

ACL FEST - DAY ONE

So, this might be more for me than for anyone else, so I can come back and look at it when time has passed, but for anyone who wasn't able to make it to Austin for the City Limits Festival, which started yesterday and continues through tomorrow, I thought you might like to know what it was like to be there.

First of all, it's still amazingly hot here. The rest of the state is getting pummelled by a hurricane, but we remain dry and hot. It was 101 degrees on Friday. The only difference between this and other days was the 10-15 MPH wind that blew the dust all over us while we watched the music. So, be aware...it was bleeding hot. Heatstroke kind of hot.

That said, I walked the 3/4 mile from my house to the festival grounds at about 12:30, and I went remarkably quickly through the "security" line, which means that I'll be smuggling a whole lot more comfort items in today with me...

1:30 pm - Kasabian

Remember Happy Mondays? And the rest of that whole Manchester thing in the early 1990's? Well, Kasabian certainly does, and they play it with a complete lack of irony that says that it's less a calculated move and more of a tribute to things they most likely listened to as kids. It was kind of cool. And they complained about the heat, too, so it wasn't just me. Sparsely attended, but fun nonetheless.

After they were done, the stage cleared out, and I found some shade next to the sound booth. Mrs. Blog arrived just in time for the next show...

3:30 pm - Mates of State

Ok, so I'm looking at the guide to the festival online the other day, and I see the name of this band I've never heard of. So, I listen to a sample of their sound, and I like it a lot, right from the top. Of course, that led to me downloading the album (I don't want to hear it...I've given the music industry about $25,000 in my time...I feel like I'm due a couple of freebies) and I really liked it. So, it was no surprise to me that Mates of State were excellent, but you probably haven't heard of them, so let me describe them to you. They're a husband and wife team. She plays old organs and he plays the drums. And they sing in pretty much the same voice, so when they harmonize, they sound like the same person singing two lines of melody at once. It's really quite good. And it's geek rock, which I like a lot.

Note: At this point, the wind is kicking up pretty good, with the promise of some rain and further wind from Hurrican Rita coming in over the weekend, which should cool down things considerably. So, good news...but dusty. Makes food from the food court a challenge since most of it isn't wrapped, and by the time you get it back to your seat, it becomes whatever you ordered plus grass and dust...MMM!

5:30 PM - Spoon

Strangely enough, I have a history with local legends Spoon. Once, at a party, my friend Yasmine brought Britt Daniel (the lead singer) with her. It was a karaoke party, and he sang Eight Days a Week. We spoke, and he was a really nice guy. Flash forward a couple of years, and Britt's cousin, Brett Webster was in my comedy troupe. I had a show called The Big, Big Talk Show, which was a late night parody of a talk show. Well, Brett finagled it so that Britt would be a guest on the show, and he premiered...PREMIERED two songs from Killing the Moonlight on my little show. Just him and a boombox of backing tracks. They were demos at the time, and they became a part of the big break for Spoon, who has now played Reading, Glastonbury, and ACL three years in a row.

So it was nice to see them play in front of about 30,000 people. This was the first show to draw a massive crowd over the weekend, and it was great. If you haven't had a chance to listen to Spoon, you should. They're really good, and Britt's one hell of a nice guy, who really deserves all the success that's come his way.

7:30PM - Keane

I'm only going to say this once. Keane is awesome. Seriously. They're like Coldplay without all of the foofiness, and the lead singer has a gorgeous voice. You might think that they had no punch, but they are really, really great. I'm lost in the show, the sun has gone down, I feel a lot better, and this is easily the high point of my day.

Then we move over to the SBC Stage...or about 1/2 mile from it, which was about a close as we could get, to see...

8:30PM - The Black Crowes

Now, I've seen the Black Crowes before, and they're good, but we couldn't get close. And then they started doing all of this dreamy sort of jam stuff, and we couldn't take it anymore. It was a really long day. So, we walked home after about 1/2 hour of the set. Lame, right? Yeah, but you try and hang out in the heat that long.

The walk home was brutal. Even though I only live about a mile away from the stage, the walk home was all uphill, and the temperature when we arrived at hour house was 91 degrees. At 10 o'clock at night! God, please bring us a hurricane...

Most Seen Tour Shirt - Interpol

That was weird. But true. By far, the most prevalent tour shirt was Interpol, who aren't playing the festival.

Best T-Shirt

This chick was wearing a shirt that said "F is for Foshizzle" and it made me laugh every time I saw it.

Shout Outs

To Shana and Jon, for hanging with us during the Keane set. It's always fun to run into friends at a concert.

More on Day Two...

2005-08-18T11:19:00.000-07:00

This might be the funniest thing I've seen in weeks...

If anyone has a reasonable explaination for the genesis of H.O.V.A., and why it's considered an acronym, I would be more than interested in hearing it.

M

2005-08-18T07:55:00.000-07:00

Devo played my hometown last night. That's right, Devo...in 2005...played in Atlantic City, NJ. Has Devo played Austin, the so-called "Live Music Capital of the World" recently? Not once in the past seven years that I've lived here...but they played A.C. last night. As a matter of fact, a lot of people play Atlantic City that never play here...the "Live Music Capital of the World." You know who we get here? People who are from here. And the reason that there's so much live music here is that many of the people who formed here have never left, and are glutting the town's bars and gin joints with their unbearable Third-Coast bullshit wakka wakka country-folk-rock-Sheryl Crow music. Fuck!

But my parents could well have watched Devo perform "Jocko Homo" in a casino setting last night. I cry unfair! Unfair!

2005-08-16T22:22:00.000-07:00

In just a couple of days now, I'm going to be 35 years old. I remember when my parents turned 35...I was 15. The weird thing is that I think I'm a much younger 35 than they were, and that that's both a good and bad thing. I suppose there's a part of me that's just waiting for the other shoe to drop...for me to "get over" the whole creative thing, and get a "real job" and a "house" and a "baby". I know it's getting well upon time for me to do all of that shit, but I just don't feel ready for it yet. Is it selfish to want to enjoy your life to the fullest before sacrificing it for someone I have yet to meet?

Thing is, I don't feel any different from when I was 25, except that I get tired a little quicker, and my mood swings are a little less severe. I wonder if it'll always be like this...just sort of getting older, and wondering where the time went, without feeling any different at all. I mean, 35...that's pretty darn mature.

Still, though. I have a great life. Who could complain? I have a wonderful, supportive wife and family...a good job...creative outlets by the score...some small measure of fame with which to occupy my ego...it could be a whole heck of a lot worse. But, I must admit that 35 feels a whole lot different than 33 or 34 felt. Kind of like the last wading out into the sea to get battered around on my surfboard. Eventually, I'm going to have to come in for lunch, and the sun is going to go down. After all, no summer can be truly endless, can it?

Be well, and take care of yourselves.

2005-08-01T12:35:00.000-07:00

You Are a Glam Rocker!

You put the "show" in rock show with your larger than life self.
No doubt, you are all about making good music...
But what really gets you going is having an over the top show.
Glitter, costumes, and wild hair are your thing - with some rock thrown in!

What Kind of Rocker Are You?

Well, no duh. Of course I'm a glam rocker. Who doesn't know that?

2005-07-31T17:31:00.000-07:00

I just got back from Dallas. Like, literally. About two hours ago, I drove home from the Dallas Comedy Festival, which was pretty good for a first time out, and I got to see a lot of friends I haven't seen in a while, or don't see very often in my own town, which was nice.

But Dallas, as I have held since I was a child, sucks. It's true. Dallas sucks. As a place, it's awful. This is a place that features the singularly worst drivers I have ever encountered in my life, as well as the worst clothing I have ever seen (It's almost as if this is where bad fashion goes to die), and some of the worst food I've ever eaten. It's kind of sad, actually, because I have friends there, and they're really nice people. But they live in a hellhole. Dallas sucks. I have it on a bumper sticker from 1980, and it holds true today.

Seriously.

Mike

2005-07-06T10:10:00.000-07:00

Shannon tagged me...so I'm compelled by the power of Christ to answer the following questions.

Number of Books That You Own: I probably have somewhere in the neighborhood of 250-300 books.

Last Book Bought: Necessary Losses, by Judith Viorst, at the behest of my psychotherapist.

Last Book I Read: The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Michael Chabon.

Five Books that mean a lot to me: 1. The Hotel New Hampshire - John Irving, 2. Saturday Night - Doug Hill and Jeff Winograd, 3. The Stand - Stephen King, 4. The Fermata - Nicholson Baker, 5. Pinball - Jerze Kozinski (sp?)

I'm not as avid a reader as I used to be, but I love the books. I should find someone else to tag. Hmmm...

2005-07-05T14:45:00.000-07:00

I'm a man of simple pleasures. My life requires precious little to make me happy. I ask that on my birthday, there be a singing of "Happy Birthday" and a slice of cake. On Christmas morning, I need naught more than a cup of cocoa and a singular gift to open. And, on the 4th of July, I require only the solace of the Boston Pops performing the 1812 Overture, and the truly awe-inspiring fireworks display that follows.

So, you can imagine my dismay last night when I tuned to the "Boston Pops" on CBS to see, during the opening credit sequence, them finishing the last 30 seconds or so of the 1812, never to see it return, in favor of Big N' Rich, Gretchen Wilson, and Cowboy Troy. Now, as I live in Texas, I know that there are people in the world who really like country music, and, were this the Dallas fireworks display, I would expect it. However, in BOSTON, MASS, YANKEE CAPITAL OF THE WORLD, IT IS COMPLETELY RETARDED TO REPLACE TRADITION WITH COUNTRY F***ING MUSIC!!!

I blame George Bush, of course, for the continuous rednecking of America. Watch us dumb down even further!!!

So, 4th of July was ruined, though my parents were here, and I had a lovely time with them.

Which brings me to the perfect musical post for the day...

The 1812 Overture - Piotr Illyich Tchaikowsky

The 1812 Overture is perhaps one of the most perfect pieces of music ever written. It tells a rather complex story, and does it in a way that's completely engrossing from the first to the last note. Complete, it is a wonder. The bombast of the final section is impossible without the quiet calm of the beginning. The themes that tease themselves throughout the piece become not only fully realized structure, but some of the most recognizable musical structure on the planet. Ever.

I can recall being about 5 or 6 years old and having my father sit with me, listening to a vinyl copy of the 1812. And, as the music unravelled, he told me the story of the piece; the French, Russians, Gypsies, etc. It is one of the most treasured memories of my childhood. As a matter of fact, Dad and I talked about it yesterday. He remembered it well.

Take care.

2005-06-28T07:24:00.000-07:00

I'm back...and better than ever...

So, here's a quick rundown of the good stuff...

I FINALLY got my first review here in Austin. After over 200 shows and various different performances, and after getting to know all of the newspapermen and their spouses, finally something I did got a review. And a good one, too. Now, they only mention me twice, but I got nice notices. And that's a huge goal of mine crossed off the list. Huzzah! You can read it here, if you like.

Also, my little improv festival is really starting to get big. This year, we have 28 troupes coming in from all over the country to perform, and we've started sponsorship meetings to try and get some extra money. This is a part of the business I've never had the opportunity to get into, but, I'll tell you this much, it's a lot easier to sell something you care about than something you don't. So I'm getting an education, and having fun at the same time.

Ok, more music.

40 Oz. to Freedom - Sublime

For this one, it's not a song, but an entire album.

Once upon a long ago, I used to work for a company called Digital Domain, back when CGI in movies was a new frontier kind of art form. Well, there was a weekend when a whole lot of us decided to rent a van and head to Rosarito Beach, Mexico. We rented a seaside condo, and it ended up being pretty much the best vacation I've ever taken in my life. When we first started out, in the DD parking lot, my friend Sean, who was a dead ringer for Stone Cold Steve Austin, slipped a tape of 40 Oz. to Freedom into the van's deck.

It became the theme of the entire weekend.

I love the album all the way through, from "Waiting For My Ruca" to the covers of "Smoke Two Joints" and "Scarlet Begonias", all the way to the mammoth list of friends and family at the end of the album. Now, this was before Sublime hit it big, and I have to say, though the Sublime album is quite good as well, nothing comes close to touching 40 Oz. Definitely one of the albums on my Desert Island Disc collection.

That's all for now. How are you?

2005-06-06T12:37:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a while. There's been a lot going on.

First, I lost my job, and got a new one. The company I was working for went out of business, but I got my old job back at less hours and more money. I have to say, if you're going to lost a job, that's one heck of a way to make yourself feel better about it.

Also, I've been lucky enough to be cast in a show that's actually doing well, both financially and critically. The whole opening weekend, which we just finished, was a sell out. Which is nice. It's always good to have a full house. The best news, though, is that a producer from New York came to see the show, and agreed to promote it for a tour in 2006/2007, and then I was invited to go on that tour, even though I will most likely be back in Los Angeles at the time. That's a great feeling. I've always wanted to go on the road, and now it looks like I may finally get my chance.

Ok...song...

Paranoid Android - Radiohead

I've been a Radiohead fan from the beginning. Since my roomate bought Pablo Honey when we lived in Los Angeles in 1993. Little did I know that Radiohead would become RADIOHEAD before the decade was out. I bought The Bends when it first came out, and I really liked it. I tried to foist it on anyone who would listen. Then, I forgot about them. And, like Dre, they made me pay for it. One night, on a return trip home to New Jersey after my move to El Paso (don't even visit...it's that bad), my friend Mick played Ok Computer for me and my friend Tom. Now, Tom and I are never at a loss for words, and we were talking up a storm that night, having not seen each other in a while. And then this song started. The conversation trailed off. The thoughts left us. And we were left, just a few short minutes later staring at the stereo, open-mouthed, as the operatic bridge to Paranoid Android sucked the attention completely out of us.

I've loved the song ever since. And I believe it's the single thing that demonstrates, more than anything else, what a quantum leap the band has made since people were singing along to Creep back in 1993.

Out.

2005-05-23T09:03:00.000-07:00

Chill...the music is coming...but first, some thoughts. At random.

I saw Episode III on Friday night. It was a great experience, but I guess I expected a little more out of the movie. Perhaps I was waiting for some great emotional catharsis that never came. There were moments when I thought it was going to happen, but then it never did. Could it be that I'm too old to really be emotionally invested in what happens in the Star Wars universe? Or is it just that the film has faults? Or was I expecting too much? Don't get me wrong. It's a good, occasionally great movie, but I was hoping for more. Perhaps something to define the course of the rest of my life. Can you ever get that from a movie? The thing is, the original Star Wars made me change the way I thought about things from that point on. Of course, I was 6 then. I'm 34 now. My thoughts are likely not near as malleable as they once were.

Ok...today's song. Do you like this? Am I wasting your time talking about music? Please let me know. I know it's one of the things I like talking about the most.

Solisbury Hill - Peter Gabriel

Oh, how this song has followed me around for the course of my life. I grew up on a golf course, and there was a little hill on the driving range that rose enough above the sight lines of the trees that you could see the bay and the skyline of Atlantic City in the distance. This was the place that people went when they were at my house and needed some quiet contemplative time, or if they wanted to pout and silently command someone to come and spend some time with them, this was also the place. We called it Solisbury Hill.

For me, Peter Gabriel will always be one of those people to whom I'd like to give a great big hug. Just to tell him how great he is, and how much he's always meant to me. The other thing that I'm reminded of with this song is that my friend Steve Wynne, who was a huge Peter Gabriel fan, used to have a piece of crap Chevy Nova that we used to ride in daily. In the tape deck, routinely, was this album. It will forever remind me of being cramped in that damn car.

The song itself is deceptive. Though I have tried to play it a million times, and although it sounds easy to play, the fact is that those chords are, like, K Minor. Impossible to play. It's a constant uplift, like the momentum of the song will just carry you to an explosion, or a gigantic turning point in something difficult. Legend is that the song was written as kind of an explaination to Genesis that Peter was going to leave. Sounds like he felt pretty inspired.

2005-05-13T08:59:00.000-07:00

I'm going to get to today's song, but, first, some replies from the Mailbag...

I was asked to express my opinions on songs by Steely Dan, RATT, and Heart. I won't have the time to really get into what I love the most about the whole ouevre of their work, but I will take a moment to give rough impressions about the bands themselves...

Steely Dan - Music made by orthodontists for orthodontists. Seriously, all I ever get from fans of "The Dan" is talk about what a complex, jazzy outfit they are. There is a difference between being technically adept and having the jazz. Sure, they can play their instruments, but that doesn't mean they rock. The Cuervo Gold and the fine columbian just reminds me that punk arrived not a moment too soon in the 70's.

RATT - Actually, one of the hardest bands in the world to sing, but that's another story. The only problem with RATT is that there's not enough of it! I'm kidding, of course. But the real problem is that they write lyrics that seem like they were stolen from the revenge-based slam book of a 12 year old middle-schooler. Not as much as, say, Metallica, but it's true just the same.

Heart - You can survive being a girl that does the rock and roll (The Runaways), and you can survive being Canadian (Rush), but you just can't survive both. See Joni Mitchell and Teagan and Sara for more details.

Now, on to the music...

Today's song is:

Thunder Road - Bruce Springsteen

For those of you who might not know this, I'm from New Jersey. Now, far from being predisposed to liking Bruce Springsteen, this actually made me completely indifferent to him for most of my life. In fact, up until I left home at 17, I didn't like him at all. This is before I was secure enough with myself to admit that I was wrong about first impressions. I have since reversed my position on Bruce, and I'm glad I did. This particular song is what's great about him, rolled up into one song.

The story about realizing that you're getting older, life is changing, and you have to change or die is an old one, and this song busts it out without hammering it too hard. Lots of people write lyrics all the time, but few are studied as poetry. When I was in high school, we studied this and "Jungleland" for their imagery and meaning.

If you can find it, and who can't find songs these days, you should hunt down the version that starts off the Bruce Springsteen Live: 1975-1985 box set. It's a version that just features Bruce and a piano, and it shows that the song is just as intense and just as meaningful in that forum. One of the great things about the man is that he trained by playing many, many years in bars, doing set after set. He knows how to make you feel like you're watching him in one of those places, as opposed to the 100, 000 seat stadium you're likely standing in.

The overall effect of this song on me is that it makes me miss home, want to be on the beach, and wish that I had liked Bruce when, contextually, it would have made more sense.

Enjoy.

2005-05-11T11:12:00.000-07:00

The first in a series of posts about songs that mean something to me:

Don't Worry Baby - Beach Boys

From the second those strings are plucked to start the Phil Spectoresque intro, this song rolls on for its alloted time like a sweet and sunny wave of joy. Of all of the Beach Boys songs, this is the one that most reminds me of being on a beach. Only, this is not the bright, heat-of-the-day Surfin' USA, or the Saturday afternoon gleam of Good Vibrations, no, instead, this song is the perfect compliment to sunset (for which, ideally, one would be on a beach on the West Coast). To be sure, there are other Beach Boys songs that elicit a visceral response, but this has the ultimate mixture of heartbreak and hope that makes it both joyful and sad to listen to. Make no mistake, this is a song for adults, perhaps made more amazing by the fact that Brian Wilson was so young when he wrote it, that it's nearly impossible to believe that he would have been able to comprehend the wistful vibe that comes with it.

Just my opinion.

2005-05-05T08:52:00.000-07:00

You know, soon, Mrs. Blog and I will be leaving Austin. And, though I'm happy, and I'm really looking forward to going home, there are a few things I will miss about this place. One of them, without question, is having the ACL Fest in my backyard. No, not figuratively in my backyard. I mean, literally in my backyard. As in, I can sit on my back porch and listen to it. I have the past two years. The first year of the festival, my friends and I opened the screen door and listened to String Cheese Incident while playing poker in my house. The very next night, the wife and I sat on our porch and listened to REM.

Then, last year, I watched a Cubs game on TV while listening to Trey Anastasio and his band doing "Oooh Child". That was pretty fun, too.

This year? I'll be going. Not that I love Coldplay, but I bet they'd be pretty fun to see. What I AM looking forward too, however, is The Arcade Fire, and The Decemberists, and The Bravery, and The Fiery Furnaces, and Franz Ferdinand, and The Bloc Party, and, yes, there's a part of me that really wants to go to a Widespread Panic show, just to see what it's like.

Wanna go with me?

2005-05-04T14:10:00.000-07:00

Jesus Christ.

2005-04-28T11:59:00.000-07:00

I do a lot of "finding" of music on the internet. And, recently, I rediscovered a concept that had been long lost in my mind. Remember MTV Unplugged? Oh, how I used to look forward to the newest edition of that show, knowing that I'd get to hear some great bands do really cool, stripped down versions of their songs. Little did I know, or realize at the time, that the concept would immediately date itself. Not because of the quality of the music or the show, you must understand, but due to the gravity that was given the perfomance on Unplugged of such heavy hitters as The Cranberries (easily one of the worst bands ever) and Paul Simon (who, though I love him, would get you shot for mentioning his name on MTV these days).

While I was thinking this, it also occured to me that people even then used to complain about the lack of music on MTV. Oh, had they known. Perhaps they would have shut up. Looking back, there was SOOOOO much more music then than there is now, that it's not even the same network. To be honest, I still watch MTV on the odd occasion, but it DID strike me the other night that "I Want a Famous Face" has less to do with music than watching Emeril on the Food Network.

At any rate, they should really do some new Unplugged episodes. Who wouldn't love to see The Arcade Fire do their thing acoustically? Or The Killers? Or even Usher? It might be fun to revitalize, and it certainly was popular once upon a time.

Who can ever tell?

2005-04-11T12:03:00.000-07:00

You know, I read all of my friends' blogs, and they come off as all witty and clever, like their lives are one constant party, interrupted only with the burning desire to write these amazingly clever epistles of internet joy, while mine always looks like a kindergardner trying his hardest to write like the other kids.

Well, I'm sick of it. I need a brilliant blog idea. Something that will take me into the next few months with the sort of observant, interesting pith that will keep people reading and responding through the dizzying heat of the summer, and well into the autumn. I will have this idea. I'm just not sure when.

In the meantime, I just want to make sure that everyone on Earth knows how very, very tired I am of working for other people. I want SO badly to be able to be in control of my life. I'm not asking for much in the way of money, I just want to be able to survive and not have to endure the soul-crushing existance of grovelling for every penny I make. Does that sound unreasonable?

2005-04-01T09:45:00.000-08:00

Have you ever had the feeling that everything you can possibly think of will happen at some point in your life before you die, which makes it improbable, and certainly strange, but somehow inevitable?

I give you two news articles from today. First, Pat Buchanan was doused with salad dressing at a fundraising event, which is really strange in itself, but nothing is funnier than seeing the picture of the man just post the event.

Now, as funny as that is, this thing is REALLY funny. Talk about disqualifying yourself dramatically from a beauty pageant...wow.

I'm sure the Pope was glad to have those pieces of information occupy the front page of CNN on the very same day it's more than likely he will pass away.

2005-03-31T15:29:00.000-08:00

Ok, this is pretty sad.

I knew Mitch, but not real well. I had the privledge of hosting him a few times for a show called The Velveeta Underground in Los Angeles. The thing I always noticed about him was that he was kinda quiet offstage, and really nothing like his onstage persona, which, at that time, was a little dim. Mitch was really fun, very funny, and very nice. He was always good for a smoke if you didn't have one.

So, be sad a little. Mitch was a funny guy, and he was really nice.

2005-03-28T09:21:00.000-08:00

I saw one of the funniest things ever yesterday...

My friend, S., brought his nearly two-year-old son to Easter dinner that Mrs. Blog nearly broke her neck to make. It was really fun and the food was fantastic. And, after dinner, while enjoying some infused vodka (which is our Easter tradition), the young pip began to get the tell-tale signs of tired, rubbing his eyes, crying, and hinting in a two-year-old way that it was time to go home.

Now, S and his wife, L, didn't want to go home. They were enjoying the vodka and having a good time. My wife, in her infinite wisdom had gone out and gotten an Easter basket for the young boy, his first. (And one for me, which included the Sopranos Trivia Game...which is pretty hard, BTW). Now, when this whole "I want to go home" thing started, I suggested to S. that he give a little "Fruit of the Bunny" to the boy to make him feel better.

Little did I know that he had never before had chocolate...

To watch a human being's first taste of something elemental like chocolate is one of the greatest, funniest things that you can imagine. He recognized the hollow bunny for what it was, saying, simply, "Rabbit." and then smashing it in half. When his father ate a little, he followed suit, and then backed up and looked around the room as if to say "Do you people understand what this rabbit TASTES like?" and then exploded with a look of joy.

Two minutes later, he grabbed his father's hand and said "Rabbit?".

We've created a monster, who loves to eat rabbits.

2005-03-23T14:41:00.000-08:00

I'm thinking of using steroids.

I figure, one of two things can happen as a result.

Either:

1) My performance will be enhanced, so I will be able to sell junk on eBay at lightning-fast speeds, and/or do improv with the enhanced strength of 1,000 men, become successful, and finally vault my way into the live I so richly deserve

or

2) I will be caught by Congress, brought in front of some sub-committee or other, and then become famous for my admitting that I not only did performance-enhancing drugs, but that I did them knowing, nay, hoping that I would be caught. After all, it's my body...they can't make me stop. Especially since taking drugs named Cream and Clear hold so much more appeal than taking drugs called Crack and Mr. Death.*

At any rate, I'm tired of being unsuccessful while surly creatures like Barry Bonds are ushered into the Hall of Fame. I could be in the Bitter Hall of Fame, or the Eating Hall of Fame, or the Masturbation Hall of Fame, I'm sure of it.

*Note: I do not believe there is yet a drug named Mr. Death, although there most certainly should be. It should guarantee the user to die instantly, without any pleasurable side effects. I assure you, even with that set of information, the American people will stupidly believe they can somehow counteract it by simply being born in the right place and under the right religion, and take it in droves.

2005-03-15T08:56:00.000-08:00

Sorry to have been gone so long...

I was just thinking that life is often funny in the way that you think that something is happening to you, when something else entirely is happening to you. Let me explain what I mean. A couple of years ago, my sketch comedy troupe, Catch24, was lucky enough to be accepted to the Seattle Sketch Festival, which is kind of a big deal in the sketch comedy world. I thought it to be a validation of the work that we were doing, and perhaps a launching point to something greater.

What it turned out to be, in the end, was the pinnacle of the work that the group did together, and kind of a last hurrah for an era of time here in Austin. And, I can crystalize that whole era in a single moment that happened at the festival. We were backstage at the theatre, waiting to go on for our afternoon performance in front of a Fox executive (which turned out to be disasterous, by the way). There was a clunky old piano there, which I started to play, and Michael Joplin, who was in my troupe, and just the kind of guy to find a beat up old acoustic guitar and make it sound good, did just that. We started messing around with "Dead Flowers", by the Rolling Stones, and it sounded pretty good. More than that, it was a lot of fun. We sang and joked, and it was so nice to be there together. When I think of all of the good things that troupe did together, that seems to me like a pretty nice reward, a nice vacation in Seattle, a wonderful, cool day, and a song that will always remind me of that time.

That's what I was thinking this morning when "Dead Flowers" came on the radio.

2005-02-17T13:34:00.000-08:00

Ok, it's late winter record review time!

Here's some music I'm listening to, and reasons why you should listen to it, too...

Aqueduct - I Sold Gold

I have a confession to make. The Mrs. and I LOVE The O.C. As in, can't get enough. As in, we TiVo the damn thing and make sure we have enough time on Thursdays to watch it. Don't judge. I don't want to hear it. Anyway, the best thing about the show is that they are pretty much right on when it comes to new artists. A couple of weeks ago I heard a song that caught my ear on the show, and afterward they introduced the artist as Aqueduct. Then, I went and did a little research and found out that Aqueduct is one guy who spent a lot of time hanging out with the guys from Modest Mouse. Now, as much as I just don't get The Mouse, even though I've certainly tried, Aqueduct's indie credentials are certainly all there and intact.

Aqueduct sounds like a wonky, sort of Scissor Sisters-cum-Beck sort of art project that seems to have accidentally made itself not only listenable, but pleasurable. The songs are quite catchy, and also a bit on the ingenious side as well. Highly recommended.

Bright Eyes - I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

My good friend Steve Johnson told me that Bright Eyes was very good one night while I stayed at his house in L.A. As it seemed to have been perenially 4:20 that evening, I didn't really catch on, other than the fact that Steve is responsible for a lot of the music I've come to love over the past twenty years or so. So, when I had the chance, I downloaded I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning.

I was a little timid when the first :45 or so of the album unleashed a weird spoken diatribe loosely based on a plane crash. I thought, "Uh oh. Here's another 24 year old kid who thinks he's Bob Dylan." Then, the music started, and I was right, but in the best possible way. He's not far from Bob, and in a good way. The songs are funny, poignant, insightful, and well-crafted in a way that belies the fact that the guy is likely about 14 years old. It's a little like the kids in High Fidelity, who rip off all the music magazines and such and then reveal themselves to be closet geniuses. Which, of course, is not the case here, as the world knows who Connor Oberst is, but it still reminds me of that, anyway.

Also, been listening to a lot of Kid Creole and the Coconuts and The Chemical Brothers lately. Both hopelessly dated, but a lot of fun to listen to. I defy you to find "The Private Psychedelic Reel" and not find yourself jumping out of your chair by the end of the song.

Anyway, my brother in law is getting married on Saturday. I wish him well. Wherever you are, raise a glass to Matt if you get a chance.

Be good.

2005-02-08T13:07:00.000-08:00

Ok, bring it.

Tell me how great the Patriots are. Tell me how stupid Donovan looked throwing three interceptions. Tell me how weak it was that the Eagles couldn't execute a hurry-up offense. Bring it. I'm not afraid. I'm not going to be upset. Anyone who wants to get a thrill from pissing all over my childhood dreams may now do so. I welcome your thoughts.

Dear Pats Fan,

If there's a debate over whether or not you're a dynasty, odds are you're not.

Love,

Mike.

P.S. Notice how I didn't throw batteries at you? That's part of the Eagles Fan Reformation Program. Now, if you were a Cowboys fan or Dante Culpepper's mom, it might have been different.

2005-01-31T13:01:00.000-08:00

Just spent the weekend alone, since Mrs. Blog was out having a "girls weekend" in Houston with her mother, sister, and niece.

It occurs to me that I always think I'm going to love having a couple of days to myself, but then I never do. Women are much better at spending alone time than men are. They can mask themselves, and do their nails, and watch those movies that they've been wanting to catch up on, and do that little project around the house that they've been wanting to do, or catch up on their reading, or any number of things that women do on their own.

Men, on the other hand, have a very limited list of things that they want to accomplish in the absence of their partners, all of which I had accomplished by 8pm on Friday evening. It only takes about 15 minutes to get stoned, whack off, and eat bad food. And then the lonliness creeps in. All weekend. And the first weekend without football, as well. Is it any wonder that I had a hard time sleeping? I don't like being alone, no matter how much I think that I'm going to.

The good news is that Mrs. Blog is home, and things are back to normal. Hope you're all having a good day. Only six days until my long championship drought is over.

Mmmmm...drought.

2005-01-27T14:53:00.000-08:00

List time again...

Top 10 Songs To Listen To if You Are Planning on Going Out And Killing and Eating Someone

1. Heart's Filthy Lesson - David Bowie
2. March of the Pigs - Nine Inch Nails
3. Lay Your Hands on Me - Peter Gabriel
4. The Mercy Seat - Nick Cave
5. Red Right Hand - Nick Cave
6. Bullet With Butterfly Wings - Smashing Pumpkins
7. Don't Prey On Me - Bad Religion
8. Debaser - Pixies
9. Who Do You Want to Be - Oingo Boingo
10. In Every Dreamhome a Heartache - Roxy Music

NOTE: Blah-Blah-Blog does not endorse anyone's decision to go and kill and eat anyone. This is more a state of mind related to performance (See: Killing in the onstage sense)

All is well.

M.

2005-01-24T10:30:00.000-08:00

Finally, finally, finally, finally...

Four long years I've been waiting to say this, but FINALLY the Philadelphia Eagles are going to the Super Bowl. And, you know what, as much as I love Boston, and New England, and the Sox, and all of my friends that are likely to hate the following statement, I think the Eagles are going to kick the living crap out of the Pats. Up until this morning, I thought I would be happy enough for them to get there. And I am, believe me. And I know that the Patriots are a really, really good football team, but so are the Eagles. So, here's my call right now.

Eagles 34, Patriots 20.

And if I'm wrong, so what? At least I said that I thought my team could do it, and I think they can and they will.

2005-01-20T08:20:00.000-08:00

Four more years...ugh.

You know, it sucks that we've had to wait to begin suffering these next four years. They should have handed him the second term on the spot, so we could start our sentence early. Perhaps someone will get a wild hair today and give us four years off for good behaviour. One can only hope.

Ok...now, a list.

4 Great Numbers to Be if You're a Professional Football Player

1. 99
2. 00
3. 1
4. 69

Please, tip your waiters.

2005-01-17T22:34:00.000-08:00

I'M SORRY.

Jeremy here. This will be the last time I infiltrate Mike's blog. I just have to say something. I'm very sorry for tugging at your heartstrings and making you worry about our dear Mikey's wellbeing. The story seemed very funny to me and I tried my hardest to write in the style of Mikey D.
I hope you can forgive us for playing an evil trick on you, but mostly me, cuz I'm the one who funked it up. We all love Mike and we would never want his Amigo to get hurt. But, c'mon, a milk truck exploding on a telephone poll. That's fuckin funny. I couldn't resist and that's why I'm an asshole.

You can all slap me the next time you see me. I am thouroughly and sincerely apologetic.

b out.

2005-01-17T07:22:00.000-08:00

Hey, everyone...

I have a confession.

I have not been in a car accident, nor do I know or have any ties to that dog in the picture. You see, for the last week, you have been the unwilling victims of a bit of a practical joke. My friend, Jeremy Lamb, and myself switched blogs for a week to try and a) see if anyone would notice and b) assume the other's life for a week. It was fun, and I got Jeremy's mom all excited about a Food Network program he was going to be on, but I feel that I should tell you all what has happened here.

On the good foot, thank you VERY much for your concern. It's good to know that I have friends who are genuinely worried about me, should something go wrong. I apologize if anyone got unduly worried, but it was kind of funny. You should go read Jeremy's blog...see what I did to him.

Be well,

Mike.

2005-01-15T01:45:00.000-08:00

2005-01-14T13:06:00.000-08:00

You know those moments in your life when it looks like the entire world is going to explode; when it seems like everyone you love is against you and your master plan; when it suddenly strikes you that you're not who you thought you would be? You know those moments, right? Of course you know those moments. You know me.
Well, today all of the aforementioned moments happened all at once. So, I'm driving to work in my Isuzu Amigo, a car I've had and loved and not washed for about three years; a car that I have mostly paid for while my wife has helped out with payments from time to time and the down payment (Hey, we're married, okay, we do stuff for each other.) So I'm driving to work and I take the appropriate exit from the highway, and then it hits me. The giant truck. A giant tanker filled with milk. But wait, it gets better. The truck bounces off the Amigo and jack-knifes around a light pole, sending a veritable explosion of white liquid into the air. The Amigo comes to a slow stop via a curb. I take stock of everything in the car. I'm still in a panic as I have never been in a car accident before and don't care to be jostled so early in the morning. My head is not bleeding, but my 7-11 coffee has spewed forth onto the passenger floorboard. Luckily, there was enough fast food trash that it probably didn't ever even make it to the carpet, just soaked into the paper and cardboard. I don't exactly remember what happened throughout the whole thing. There are just a few flashing memories kind of like a slide show.
I remember turning onto Burleson and then a really loud noise and then a milk tanker popping like a pimple by the side of the highway. It was so strange. So I called 911 first and did that whole thing. Then I called my wife. She was concerned about me and my safety. I told her everything was fine and eventually she seemed more worried about the car than about the fact that I just nearly died. "money, money" all that shit. Here i was lucky to be breathing. It didn't make sense.
The truck driver was alright, though shaken up and doused in milk. When the cops arrived, there was a bit of a shouting match between the truck driver and one of the heavier cops. It nearly got ugly. Obviously it was his fault as I was just turning right off the near-highway that 71 has become because of all the construction. He had clipped the Amigo which sent him out of control and into a lightpole.

It's just those moments when you suddenly realize a lot of things all at once. Sometimes I feel like I'm in a film and this is the crane shot of me just standing totally dumbfounded ankle high in raining milk as the cop and the trucker argue. The sound fades as the camera booms up to display the destruction and then fades to black. Real Wes Anderson style cartoony filmic situations like that seem to happen to me all the time.
So, once it all kind of resolved and the Amigo was towed away I walked the rest of the way to work. I told everyone there about what had happened and how the Amigo was probably totaled.

Then I sat down and started working. I called my wife and we talked about everything and how I thought she was kind of mean to me after the accident. We worked it out and to tell the truth, it probably wasn't her being mean but my paranoia creeping in. We apologized and patched that whole thing up.

Then I started working again. Replaying the incident over and over in my mind. Pausing from the computer screen with all it's lights and buttons to just think about the sequence of events and the series of flashing images. And then I'd return to work. It's like my life I guess. Sometimes I feel like the only great moments of excitement are cataclismic, dangerous, and not of my own doing. Then when it subsides, I return to my work.

There's no excitement in real life. I need to get back on a stage. There, I can create more fantastic situations and bullshit scenarios than anyone could live out in a normal lifespan, except maybe Bowie whose lived out every one of my bullshit scenarios in real life.

My point is . . . Well . . . I don't know what my point is. What I'm trying to say is . . . I guess I don't really know. I have no car. But that's not the problem. Maybe it's that I'm the protagonist in a sad movie with no ending or resolution, but even that's too depressing to be true. I don't know. I need something. Besides a new Amigo. I just want to go home and curl up with the wife and die, but only die for about a week. Then return back to life full forced and ready to take it all on. Just a hibernation from the world; the sparatically exploding world that seems to jump out at me all at once, complete with jack-knifing milk spetters.

What a fucking wierd day and it's not even over yet.

Sorry, no list today. My brain is too fried.

2005-01-11T22:31:00.000-08:00

John Denver is a genius.

Sure, say what you will, he was a bit of a pussy. I can't disagree with you on that one. But there are a lot of pussies throughout history who have done great things and keeping with recent trends here on the Blah-Blah-Blog I present to you another list.

List of Worthwhile Pussies

1. Andy Warhol - Huge Pussy. Arguably the greatest pop artist ever. Not the guy I want on my side in the big tag-team match versus Kahlo and Dali.

2. Brian Wilson - Old Pussy. Maybe back in the day when he still had a big crew of fellas, but now that he's on his own, big pussy. Yet he still created SMiLE.

3. Stephen Hawking - Quadripussy. Sure, one of the greatest scientific minds of the 20th century, but put him in a room with Chuck Darwin and it's all over but the shouting. Well, I guess in this case it's just over.

4. Sharon Stone - Famous Pussy. Didn't do much else but look hot. Great things from a pussy.

5. Bob Saget - America's Funniest Pussy. Here's a guy who was doing amazing groundbreaking stand-up in the clubs, got picked up by a little show known as Full House, took the job for the good money, then got roped into America's Funniest Home Videos, where he was reduced to making boing sounds and silly voices for ten years before it just go to be too much. He returned to the clubs but didn't have any street cred. Poor guy. He was a pussy for giving into irresistable fiscal temptations. What are you gonna do?

That's it. Just remember this list when someone tries to tell you that someone you love is a pussy.

2005-01-10T13:46:00.000-08:00

"It's the least....wonderful time....of the year..."

Ugh. January sucks. The year is not going to get fun again until March. I mean, sure, there's the football playoffs which, for me, is more nervewracking than fun. But other than that, what is there? Last year I had a play to occupy my time, which made the whole year so much more fun, considering I started rehearsals in January and ended the play in April, by which time the boring part of the year was already done.

I'm starting a band. That might make things a lot more fun. We're called The Ho-Hums, and it's going to be a larger-than-life cover band. Won't that be a kick? I get to be the lead singer, even though I can't sing. Fun, fun, fun.

Ok, today's list.

Top 4 Things You'd Least Like To Hear Just Before The Airlock Closes on Your Spacewalk

1. "Should we tell him?"
2. "This should be hilarious."
3. "Fine, Hal, you got your sacrifice. Are you happy?"
4. "Say hello to my friend God when you get there!"

2004-12-31T10:24:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, everyone. I certainly hope that 2005 finds you in better spirits, emotionally, spiritually, and financially than in 2004. In celebration of the New Year, I am prepared to do what all people who write things for other people to read find themselves compelled to do at this time of year...make a Top 10 Albums List for 2004. So, here they are...

1. The Killers - Hot Fuss - This is the most resounding argument I can think of to say that new music does not suck, and, in fact, might be on the upturn. There were several great albums by new artists this year, but this is the best of them. If you liked the 80's the first time, you will love this. It's an attempt to reference New Wave without stealing it wholesale.

2. Brian Wilson - SMiLE - I know I've written about this before, but this album is magical. If you ever want to have a perfect moment with someone you love, rent a car, drive to the Malibu Coast, and put this on the iPod. Seriously. You can't do any better than that.

3. Green Day - American Idiot - I once had a lot of hope for Green Day, as Dookie was one of my favorite albums of the 90's. But then they did that song on the Angus soundtrack, and I was turned off from that point on. Trust me when I tell you that it would have made me shocked if someone could have made me aware of this band again, let alone learn and sing a new album. This is fantastic. And mean. And I love it.

4. Garden State - Movie Soundtrack - Before this soundtrack came out, I was kind of unaware of what was so good about the indie scene that the kids are all agog about. Now I know. Worth it for the Frou Frou track alone, along with the Shins song. The movie's pretty great, too.

5. Avenue Q - Soundtrack - Gay puppets? Come on. This is hilarious and fun all the way through, and not as dire as most of the shows that have hit the stage in the past few years. Listen to it. It's really catchy.

6. David Bowie - Reality - Of course there's going to be a Bowie album on my list. This is not my favorite, and I really like Heathen a bunch better, but it's solid, and it's nice to know that my idol can continue to pump out solid quality time after time. There was a time when Bowie seemed dead in the water. He's alive, kicking, and kicking ass again.

7. Muse - Absolution - My best friend told me about this album and said that they sound just like Radiohead when Radiohead still rocked. He was right, and for the song "Stockholm Syndrome" alone, you should buy it. But one song does not an album make, and it's good all the way through.

8. Scissor Sisters - Scissor Sisters - These guys are weird, and wonderful, and I suspect they probably only have one really good album in them. Luckily, this is it. Most people love the "Comfortably Numb" cover, and I do too, but I really like the rest of the album so much more than that.

9. Franz Ferdinand - Franz Ferdinand - Usually, when British music magazines start really plugging a band, they're right up my alley. For example, I believe I am the only Suede fan left on Earth. So I went out and got this on spec, and I was really happy. They're good, and they started a wave of music that, to be honest, I wouldn't mind seeing played for a while.

10. Craig Kotfas - Best Case Scenario - This, of course, is colored by the fact that I'm actually ON the album, which will always warrant a special bit of attention. And that Craig was my roommate for a few years. And that I love him. But the album is really good. You can buy it here. Check it out.

Ok...so now I've made my list. Pretty much the same as everyone else's. I promise that this year I will do my best to make more original lists. Yeah. That's my New Year's resolution. More and better lists. Woo hoo!

Be well. Happy New Year!

2004-12-27T09:04:00.000-08:00

Well, I had the Christmas. Boy, did I have the Christmas. It was very, very fun. Went back to New Jersey and to New York for a couple of days. You know, though, a couple of things struck me while I was there, and I wanted to share them.

A. Your Parents Will Always Consider You to Be the Age You Were When You Moved Out of the House - I'm 34 years old, and yet I still have chores when I go home. I have to ask to borrow the car. When an errand is to be run, you can bet I'm running it.

B. Bruce Springsteen will be eternally amused by Clarence Clemons imitating Santa - C'mon, Boss...you know it's coming, we know it's coming. Don't laugh onstage in the middle of a bit...it's just unprofessional.

C. The cap on "Classic" Christmas Music is closed for good. - No matter who and how new Christmas music is recorded, you can bet anyone anything that it's going to suck. You can't top Burl Ives, no matter how hard you try, and yet, here is Vanessa Williams' completely useless version of "Silver and Gold". This is not the way to create Christmas classics. Just stop trying.

D. No Matter How Old I Get, A Video Game, DVD, or CD Will Thrill Me As If I Were 14 - Sing it with me now, people..."I got Grand Theft Auto...I got Grand Theft Auto"

E. New York is Not As Much of a Hellhole As I Thought - Sorry. I didn't mean to shit all over your rep for the last 18 years. I just had a couple of bad experiences. But you're alright, NY...for now.

Anyway, I will probably have more soon, but I hope you all had a lovely holiday, and for God's sake, get some sleep.

2004-12-09T10:47:00.000-08:00

I'm fairly sure at some point in my life God must have said, "So, you think you have a sense of humor, huh? Appreciation of the ironic? Let's take a look" and then set about putting me in weird situations.

Like the time when I lived in Los Angeles, and I was really poor, like couldn't afford to eat kind of poor, and my mom sent me a box of filet mignon for Christmas. So, all I had to eat was filet mignon, which is nice for a couple of days, but when you get to, say, day 20, you'd trade five of them for a bag of tater tots. But, how does it sound to be saying to someone, "Yeah, my life totally sucks. I'm really poor, and all I've been eating for the last three weeks is filet mignon?"

Ok, so I have a job reviewing porn for a national magazine. Sounds like fun, huh? Sure. You try it. Everyone who ever says to me, "Oh my God, that's, like, the perfect job" is welcome to it. I will send along all of the freaky Trannie porn you can handle. Oh yeah, you have to see that shit, too. It's not like you can only watch porn that you like. No. You have to watch ALL the porn. Now, part of that job requires that I vote for what is, in essence, the porn Academy Awards. So, once a year, I am delivered box after box after box of what is the "best" of the porn industry for that year. Something on the order of 400 DVD's. And I am expected to watch them. All of them. Surely, at some point in my life, I must've said "God, I wish I could watch porn all the time!" And God, in his infinite wisdom, said to himself, "All the time? Hmmm. All the time, huh? Mwahahahahahaha!" and made this job up from the essence. Now, my office is so full of porn that I literally can not walk into it without creating a path.

Object lesson? Remember, you should always be careful of what you wish for. It's an old chestnut, but it's true.

2004-11-30T10:11:00.000-08:00

I've been working out.

In case that hasn't sunk in, let me say it again.

I've been working out.

And the funny thing is...I kind of like it.

Now, don't get me wrong. This is not the 3 hour workout that ends with someone screaming and putting their hand through a wall. No, nothing like that. In fact, it's more like the housewife working out in front of All My Children regimen, but it beats the crap out of nothing. I'm trying to get to Los Angeles, you see, and one of the conditions of my return, care of Mrs. Blah-Blah is that I need to get fit. Or at least closer. So, I'm doing it, because I want to go. And it's not as bad as I thought.

If you knew me, you'd know that this is a weird revelation. I'm not what you might call "body aware" in a positive direction. As a matter of fact, if I could just cut my body off and become a floating head, then I would. Of course, if I could do that, I'd also be rich, and I wouldn't give a crap about what I ate, because there would be nowhere for it to go. Unless my head got fat. I wouldn't like that too much. I'd be a fathead. And not in a cool, jazzy sort of way, where people would walk past me and think, "There goes Fathead. He can really blow." No, it would be more like, "Oh my God, that guy's got a fat head." And then what would be the point of being a floating head after that?

2004-11-18T10:17:00.000-08:00

I'm working with my best friend again. I don't even care if it's good. I'm just glad we get a chance to do it. If you ever get the chance to do something creative with someone who can read your mind, I highly recommend it. It's a lot easier than having to explain yourself to people.

Also, I'm totally addicted to The Sopranos. Normally I try and avoid shows that are the current zeitgeist (not to get all Spy magazine on everyone...) but I find that, since HBO has decided to run all of the episodes in order, from the first, I can't stop watching it. My wife and I are completely addicted. So much so, that I'm afraid of what kind of pall might fall over our house when we run out of episodes to watch.

I know...I know...none of you own televisions, and you spend all of your time getting all cultural and shit. Whatever. Sometimes TV can be very satisfying.

2004-11-15T14:53:00.000-08:00

Goodbye, Ol' Dirty Bastard...you old...dirty...bastard.

The Wu sleeps with one chamber having been converted to a mausoleum this day. Who will step up? My friend Shannon has the best Wu-Tang name ever. Chocolaty Shatner...perhaps he would be the best to step up. I mean, Shannon might be a mid-30's white dude from Iowa, but he can flow. And well. Plus, what an excellent personality makeover for the Clan. Just a thought.

Good night, sweet Big Baby Jesus...wherever you are.

2004-11-10T08:02:00.000-08:00

Forget the politics... Let's talk pudding.

2004-11-09T10:06:00.000-08:00

Ok...audience interaction time!!

I need to know what you think of two potential names for my new improv troupe.

Are you ready?

Ok...

Either

1. The Knuckleball

or

2. The Knuckleball Now

Tell me what you think, campers.

The world waits...

2004-11-03T07:54:00.000-08:00

Well, I learned plenty yesterday.

1. There is no God.

2. Americans will never, ever, never, EVER cease to amaze me with their endless, vast capacity for real baseline stupidity. This should have been a no-brainer. Unfortunately, if you look through the great "heartland" of our country, you will find that no brains is exactly what there is. So, fuck you all very much. When your children's bodies begin to pile up while you are cleaning the gun that your $300 tax break bought you, I hope you can live with yourselves. Me, I hope they die in record numbers. Something might eventually get through to you.

This is the most disappointed I've ever been in just about anything. I'm tired of being urbane, witty, educated, and cultured in this society of classless, toothless cretins. So, enjoy your fish frys and your backyard barbeques, you fucking morons. I quit.

2004-11-02T13:20:00.000-08:00

Oh, please, God.

Please please please please please.

Please.

God?

Please.

2004-10-29T13:57:00.000-07:00

Remember when Hallowe'en was the coolest holiday going? Before parents got their big, micromanagerial hands all over it and made it so sterile that kids can only go trick or treating until mid-dusk? Mmmm. It was so good. I can imagine walking the streets with a perfect combination of joy, cold, sugar surge, and terror, with a full pillowcase of candy bars in my hand.

Well, the world can try its hardest to ruin my favorite holiday, but I don't care. I still love it. I'm sitting in my office with the lights dim, listening to Oingo Boingo and plotting an all-hands-on-deck field trip to Rocky Horror tonight at midnight. So, if Hallowe'en isn't as good as you remember it being, you should try your damndest to make it good again.

Before they come and take Christmas from you, too...

2004-10-28T08:54:00.000-07:00

Yes...I know I said Sex fans. No point in pointing it out to me. I can't change it. And besides, who's not a sex fan?

2004-10-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

Wow.

Finally.

And it happened in my lifetime, too.

When my friend Craig called me yesterday and asked me if I was ready for the world to end, I didn't think about what an appropriate question it was until much, much later. Of course I was ready. I was ready to watch the Red Sox finally make history. I was ready to validate with my friends from New England the entire experience. (The Pats winning the Super Bowl, just so you know, didn't phase me at all, as an Eagles fan, and, to tell the truth, is likely going to pale in comparison to this accomplishment. It's interesting, and good for New Englanders, but it's not like a physical impossibility in the way a Red Sox Championship always seemed to be)

So, when I settled in last night and started to watch the game, I started thinking about my personal connections to the Sox and the city of Boston itself, and how, for one evening, I was in every way back in my Beacon St. apartment, except for the fact that I was physically in Texas. So much so that I wanted to take a moment to show my wife around the place, although she most certainly would've had me locked up for trying.

I thought about my friends, even the ones who weren't sports fans, and how they all had an opinion on the Sox one way or another. I thought about sneaking into Fenway after the 7th Inning stretch for a hot dog to catch the end of several meaningless games. I thought about the Sox winning the division in 1989, and being able to hear the cheers really muted from my apartment window. I thought about being 16 and watching the Sox playing against the hated Mets, and really being into baseball for the first time during the infamous series involving Bill Buckner's glove.

Of course, I didn't believe that it would happen until it actually happened, which kind of diminishes the length of the joy, but amplifies the intensity of the potential for joy, if that makes any sense. Finally, it happened. Keith Foulke grabbed the ball and I realized in the split second before it happened that it was going to. I don't know if I thought the world would end, or if there would be some sort of terrorist attack preventing the final moment from happening, but, in the end, it was just like any other year, except all of my friends worldwide could rejoice. All of their parents and friends, the Sox fans from years ago, the cursed players, the extended family of the Hub city...all of us...for one moment...joined in a collective sigh of relief, and an overwhelming sense of "finally..."

I thought about the world ending comment a little later. And it occured to me that there is so little joy in our world right now, collectively, that if the Sox couldn't pull this off, and things just stayed the same, that it might be the same as the world ending...just very, very slowly. It doesn't seem to be the end of anything, though. More like a beginning...the beginning of possibilities, of new options, of things long believed to be impossible. Again, redemption. Perhaps we are all moving there...and there's room for humbled Yankee fans and jubilant Sox fans alike. There's room for happy Democrats and bummed-out Republicans, too. Perhaps one unthinkable door opened can stay open for another week or so to complete a truly great Fall Classic double play.

2004-10-21T08:08:00.000-07:00

Proof, finally, that sometimes good triumphs over evil...

The RED SOX WIN!

And not only do they win, they win in historical fashion.

And not only do they win in historical fashion, but they beat the Yankees!

And not only do the beat the Yankees, but the Yankees have the greatest collapse in the history of baseball for it to happen!

How satisfying is that? It's as good as baseball could possibly be...other than a Sox series win. And I know that, even if the Red Sox win the Series, Yankee fans will be like "Talk to me when you win 100..." And I won't care at all...because every day for at least an entire year, the Yankees, and all of New York will have to live with the fact that Boston the team, and, by extension, Boston the city is BETTER than them. BETTER! BETTER! HA!

Eat it, Yankees.

2004-10-13T10:32:00.000-07:00

The idea of air travel still amazes me. Think about it. This morning, I woke up in Texas, in the middle of one large-ass country, where it's raining and kind of gloomy, but I will lay my head down this evening in California, having seen the mighty Pacific Ocean, looking good in the sunshine, feeling like a million unmarked.

I get to see my friends that I miss really badly this weekend, and I get to travel with my wife, which is always a lot of fun. I'm really looking forward to this time to get out of town and soak up a little smog. I hope you are all well. See you next week.

2004-10-12T14:31:00.000-07:00

You know, each and everyone of us should get down on our fetlocks and thank whoever is responsible for life and lack thereof that Bruce Springsteen is still alive, and still rocks harder than anyone you ever saw in your life. Now, I know most of you won't go along with me on this one, but I promise, there's gonna be a time when the Boss is gone (not quit, he won't quit. I fully expect him to be rocking well into his 80's.) and you will wish you had paid more attention to how hard he rocked while it happened.

And I don't mean "rock" in a dumbass Puddle of Mudd, Linkin Park, Godsmack kind of way. That isn't rock. It's volume. There's a big difference. Bruce still treats rock like it's a twisting, hot piece of lust, and not some kind of commodity. He is, in fact, more punk about that ethic than almost anyone I can think of, because, again, punk isn't about volume, it's about rock with a purpose. And you find me someone who rocks harder for the cause than the f'n Boss. I don't think you can. I know you can't. The man is older than almost anyone you know personally, and he still rocks harder than you think. He can outlast you, that's for sure. He can stand and stomp and scream a hell of a lot longer than you can even sing along. And he's older than you.

He's got a great band who would lay under a truck for a mid-song break if he asked, and he manages to pay all 800 of them each and every night. Only George Clinton employs more band members. And he rocks, too, but in a completely different way.

Give it up for Bruce Springsteen. Just think about it for a couple of minutes. He's better than anyone you can think of. No one rocks like he does. You might hate the songs, or the ethic, but you can't deny him.

2004-10-02T22:26:00.000-07:00

You know, sometimes you see or hear somehting that convinces you that, no matter how strange and sometimes insane life can be, that there is the possibility for redemption in everyone.

Take Brian Wilson for example. If you don't know the story, read it somewhere else. Others will tell it better. Or, for the short version, you can always get the Barenaked Ladies song, in which you might learn enough to know that Brian Wilson went crazy once, trying to keep up with the Beatles and doing a lot of drugs, and that a doctor took advantage of him, but that he's ok now.

Not only ok, but thriving. See, once upon a time, Brian was going to make this album called Smile, that was supposed to be a retaliatory strike for Sgt. Pepper and show the world that he was just as inventive as the Beatles were. But, on the way, Brian went crazy, and the album never got finished, and has been a rock myth for the past 30 years.

Except now he finished it. And it's beautiful. It's really wonderful. Redemptive, sweet, fulfilling, it's like an Aaron Copeland piece written by the Beach Boys. In a world that is full of such cynical, awful, money-driven music, it's nice to know that myths sometimes appear for real, and are every bit as good as you imagined they'd be.

Listen to it. See if I'm wrong.

2004-10-01T08:15:00.000-07:00

Well, perhaps I've been selling G.W. short. After all, watching the debate last night, I certainly learned a few important lessons.

1. Repeating the words "Mixed Signals" over and over again doesn't make them any more true.
2. Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden are essentially the same person.
3. People can fight vociferously (Which means fighting in a VERY loud voice!)
4. Someone taught him at some point that if you don't have anything smart to say, don't say anything at all, ergo many, many seconds of silence spent praying to see that little yellow light.
5. Plutonium isn't NEARLY as dangerous as highly-enriched Uranium.
6. Even Bush knows his daughters are stupid sluts.
7. Being President is awfully hard work!
8. No matter how vain you are about your height in comparison to the better candidate, you still look stupid trying to play it off with a splitscreen shot used as a booster seat.
9. He's very, very, very fond of buzzwords.
10. The mention of the word Haliburton ACTUALLY made the President's eyes roll back into his head with fear that Dickey was going to get caught and bunch him out behind the shed.

And just because you didn't say anything catastrophically stupid, doesn't make you smart or a winner. See you well you've lowered America's expectations? Keep dragging us through the mud, you evil bastard!

2004-09-28T08:54:00.000-07:00

Well, fall is finally on the horizon, the days are getting shorter, the Eagles are 3-0, Cubs are within a day or so of being able to clinch a playoff appearance, the Red Sox are primed to dismantle the Yankee empire, I'm getting ready to go on a long-needed trip to see some friends in Los Angeles, only a couple of months away from finally going home for the first time in two years. The company I work for is kicking ass on a daily basis...we made USA Today the other day. My wife and I are training for the long haul toward financial recovery and babymaking...

And, of course, we're just a short month away from waving goodbye to dubya, which will be the capper of a lovely 4th quarter comeback from 2004. When your hometown newspaper is this upset with you, you know you really screwed the pooch.

Hope all is well with all of you. Please respond and give me a heads-up.

Mike.