have you ever watched the lifetime channel? it's not a habit by any means... but here i am on a saturday afternoon watching the second movie with a two-word title that tells you exactly what will happen in the movie. up first was "fatal desire." heidi was with me when we started this one. then she left. for some reason i continued to watch. here's the plot. some lonely housewife and mother of one likes to go on internet chat rooms and meats some pit boss from the jersey shore. they fall in love. she lies and tells him that she is pregnant with his kid and that her husband beats her and convinces this poor schmuck to kill her husband. once he gets wise to all of this, his only option is to kill himself.
couple of "highlights" about this one: 1) dude named his penis "george," because, "he's curious." that's a direct quote from the movie. 2) internet chatrooms. who goes to these? i have never been in an internet chatroom and i can see no circumstance in which i would ever do it. i don't even know where to find chatrooms. apparently though they are the "singles bar of the new millenium." 3) extramarrital affairs are never a good idea (i'm going to regrain from a long dirge about this one. just know that this is pretty simple and pretty obvious as far as i can see). 4) ann heche is a strange lady. i think she's confused about a lot of things, like why she ever agreed to do this movie.
up next on this double header is another winner - "ultimate deception" (what is it with these two-word titles that are so blatantly contrived? are people flipping through the tv guide and thinking to themselves, "illustrius contempt... that sounds good." who's watching this stuff... oh yeah, women).
i can't go through with this one. i contemplated a running diary. but i don't have the energy. yasmine bleeth... welcome back to the limelight. we missed you. so far this couple is trying to have a kid but they can't so they are talking about adoption. boring. where's the "ultimate?" where's the "deception?" i don't have the patience of the strength to go through with this.
i don't understand women at all. across this country there are thousands of women who watch this garbage all of the time. it's afterschool specials for the unhappy, middle age, soccer mom. the writers, producers and directors are getting together around big round tables and saying, "let's make this movie that will drive the bored and discontent women with too much time on their hands crazy. but let's make it moral and worthwhile." it's almost like, "you think your life is bad... don't try such and such a scenario to make it better." sure, things look good for awhile. but the dude is always some sleaze. the shit always hits the proverbial fan. someone ends up dead, and it all could have been avoided if the heroine just didn't get so carried away in her quest for a little extra excitement in her otherwise mundane life. and while you're at it ladies, make sure you eat some food. eating disorders are never as fun as they sound.
this just in. our little movie "ultimate deception" is about to get interesting. pretty sure the dude is about to steal a baby from some unsuspecting woman in a parking garage. he's not the perfect man that he was originally portrayed to be. i'm shocked. and why is he going to make this poor decision? what drives a man to kill the husband of some chick he met online? what makes a clean-cut coast guard steal another woman''s baby? women (heidi excluded, of course). they're trouble, man. find a good one and treat her really well. don't be a fool.
the pattern i am starting to notice here is that people get all caught up in something (usually a terrible romance. complete with soft light love scenes that show tussled hair and strange massaging of the back all to a synthesizer sound track that was recorded by a freshman music major at some middle of the road conservative college in omaha, nebraska). then someone gets desperate, jealous, possessive, angry, deceptive, compulsive, paranoid, etc. and everything falls apart. who are we supposed to feel sorry for in these stories. everyone is an idiot. i got no one to root for. earlier in the day i was watching rio bravo with john wayne, dean martin and ricky nelson. now here's a movie i can get behind. not one, but three people that i can pull for. it's brilliant (perhaps a "greatest westerns of all time" post is in order).
are we done here? that's enough already.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
obligatory brett favre reaction blog
brett favre thinks he deserves something. i guess we all do.
i don't know about this. i have all sorts of anger toward brett favre. i'm not too sure why, but i loathe him (although perhaps not as much as my friend kevin - read his blog for a passionate brett favre treatment). if you care about sports and this whole story, then you have heard it all, and you have your opinion. if you don't follow sports (i probably don't know or like you... unless you are my wife, in which case cooking and singing christmas carol karaoke more than make up for it. [on a side note (within my side note) girls who get way into sports... i don't know man, it just seems weird to me. if heidi got as charged up about sports as i do - it would just be to weird]), then you don't care.
here's my quick take on the situation: whenever somebody thinks that they "deserve" something, or even have "earned" something, then you begin to tread upon dangerous waters. this notion that we deserve anything is completely fantasy. just because you pay your taxes, eat pretty healthy and don't cheat on your wife, you start to think that everything in life should go your way. really? when has this ever happened? if you read the Bible (and i suggest you do, it's worth a look) you will soon find a disturbing pattern: rain falls on the "good" guys and the "bad" guys. in fact, it usually seems like the "good" guys are getting wetter than the "bad" guys. everybody always talks about how brett favre is a "good" guy. why is this? because he wears wranglers and doesn't shave everyday? because he shows up to work and does his best everyday? somehow, through all of this he has "earned" the right to go back on his word, demand that entire organizations cater to his every whimsical desire, no matter how many times it may change?
this notion of earning/deserving anything just pisses me off. in your life time, you or someone you love will get cancer. you're going to lose your job. you're going to get in a car accident. dog's going to die. mom and dad too. entire countries will be decimated by earthquakes, tornados and hurricanes. evil dictators will kill innocent children. you will stub your toe on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. what is it that we think we deserve? health, wealth and happiness. anytime any of these things are taken from us, or are failed to deliver on our terms, the tendency is to grumble and complain. "i don't deserve this." "what did i do to deserve this?" etc.
couple points:
1) we live in a bad place. we are bad people. sure, some of us act better than others, but when it comes down to it, we all do terrible things because we all were born with a self-centered bent that makes us do bad things. it's who we are. it's your identity. deal with it.
2) not all bad things are really bad things. or if they are bad things, they can be redeemed and actually become good things. you know this is true if you have experienced it.
3) it's not all hopeless. it really isn't. that's not my intention in all of this. remember, i started simply by stating that i can't stand the arrogance of people who throw tantrums because they aren't given what they think they deserve on a silver platter (the tirades and rabbit trails come free of charge). there is true beauty in this world. there is genuine love and conern for one another. there are moments of unexpected generosity and selflessness. these moments should be savored. strived for.
4) Jesus Christ is the answer. what is the question you ask? the difference between good and bad. the very definition of good and bad. it's found in Jesus. you don't deserve anything. in fact, if you believe in karma or something like that, when you really start counting up the stuff you do and the motivations behind it, you start to see that you shouldn't be expecting too much good to be coming 'round the corner. it's not like that with jesus. i'm not going to get too "preachy" here (too late?) but i guess it's enough to say that continually i am impressed and transformed by the person and work of Jesus Christ and the way in which all of life finds its meaning in Him alone.
stay retired brett favre. leave the world alone.
i don't know about this. i have all sorts of anger toward brett favre. i'm not too sure why, but i loathe him (although perhaps not as much as my friend kevin - read his blog for a passionate brett favre treatment). if you care about sports and this whole story, then you have heard it all, and you have your opinion. if you don't follow sports (i probably don't know or like you... unless you are my wife, in which case cooking and singing christmas carol karaoke more than make up for it. [on a side note (within my side note) girls who get way into sports... i don't know man, it just seems weird to me. if heidi got as charged up about sports as i do - it would just be to weird]), then you don't care.
here's my quick take on the situation: whenever somebody thinks that they "deserve" something, or even have "earned" something, then you begin to tread upon dangerous waters. this notion that we deserve anything is completely fantasy. just because you pay your taxes, eat pretty healthy and don't cheat on your wife, you start to think that everything in life should go your way. really? when has this ever happened? if you read the Bible (and i suggest you do, it's worth a look) you will soon find a disturbing pattern: rain falls on the "good" guys and the "bad" guys. in fact, it usually seems like the "good" guys are getting wetter than the "bad" guys. everybody always talks about how brett favre is a "good" guy. why is this? because he wears wranglers and doesn't shave everyday? because he shows up to work and does his best everyday? somehow, through all of this he has "earned" the right to go back on his word, demand that entire organizations cater to his every whimsical desire, no matter how many times it may change?
this notion of earning/deserving anything just pisses me off. in your life time, you or someone you love will get cancer. you're going to lose your job. you're going to get in a car accident. dog's going to die. mom and dad too. entire countries will be decimated by earthquakes, tornados and hurricanes. evil dictators will kill innocent children. you will stub your toe on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. what is it that we think we deserve? health, wealth and happiness. anytime any of these things are taken from us, or are failed to deliver on our terms, the tendency is to grumble and complain. "i don't deserve this." "what did i do to deserve this?" etc.
couple points:
1) we live in a bad place. we are bad people. sure, some of us act better than others, but when it comes down to it, we all do terrible things because we all were born with a self-centered bent that makes us do bad things. it's who we are. it's your identity. deal with it.
2) not all bad things are really bad things. or if they are bad things, they can be redeemed and actually become good things. you know this is true if you have experienced it.
3) it's not all hopeless. it really isn't. that's not my intention in all of this. remember, i started simply by stating that i can't stand the arrogance of people who throw tantrums because they aren't given what they think they deserve on a silver platter (the tirades and rabbit trails come free of charge). there is true beauty in this world. there is genuine love and conern for one another. there are moments of unexpected generosity and selflessness. these moments should be savored. strived for.
4) Jesus Christ is the answer. what is the question you ask? the difference between good and bad. the very definition of good and bad. it's found in Jesus. you don't deserve anything. in fact, if you believe in karma or something like that, when you really start counting up the stuff you do and the motivations behind it, you start to see that you shouldn't be expecting too much good to be coming 'round the corner. it's not like that with jesus. i'm not going to get too "preachy" here (too late?) but i guess it's enough to say that continually i am impressed and transformed by the person and work of Jesus Christ and the way in which all of life finds its meaning in Him alone.
stay retired brett favre. leave the world alone.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
independence and stuff.
for years now, i have maintained that christmas and thanksgiving were the only holidays worth getting excited about. every other holiday had abandoned me. built up in hype, leaving me disappointed and let down. new years eve, valentines day, halloween, and until the last two years, the fourth of july.
it wasn't always this way. growing up, in the rural town of carlotta (population 345), the fourth of july was an extraordinary event. shirley johnson, owner of martin and shirley's market (the only market in town) would host a fourth of july extravaganza. big potluck. lots of people, volleyball, horseshoes, great illegal fireworks, and the entire community coming together to enjoy a celebration of epic proportions. the entire thing was put together by the volunteer fire department - a group of "good ol' boys" that loved to drink some beer and light some fireworks. (an observation about growing up: phase one - adults are drinking beer and getting drunk, but you are completely oblivious because playing guns in the street is the only thing that matters. phase two - an awareness that the adults are acting different. the same men walk around with a budweiser in a cousy and become more beligerent and rambunctious throught the evening. in this phase, it seems strange. it seems wrong. DARE told me about this, and i should stay away. phase three: you and your friends are sneaking beers from the cooler and drinking them in the woods where no adults can see you. this is rather easy since the adults are drunk themselves, and don't really notice too much going on. phase four - i'm the adult now. i've got the beer in my hand. i'm getting a little more talkative and loud throughout the course of the evening.)
the celebration of my youth eventually ceased. and for approximately 10 years the fourth of july was no good. everybody would get all excited, but nothing would ever happen worth mentioning. so i cast if off. "you're dead to me fourth of july. i thank you for the three day weekend, but you let me down."
last year was my first fourth of july in kentucky. the foruth of july is taken pretty serious here in florence, kentucky. a quick drive across state lines in indiana offers one the opportunity to buy a plethora of booming and noisy explosives. standing in my driveway the last two years, i am in awe of the 360 degree spectacle of explosions in the sky that lasts for hours. everybody puts on a display. and it's great.
so in honor of the year of this great country's freedom from the tyranny of brittain, i offer 1776 reasons why the fourth of july is a great holidy:
1. it's the ultimate celebration of summer. summer is the best season (you're right kevin). right in the middle of summer we have a reason to get together with family and friends, and enjoy the greatness of the season.
2. fireworks are great. i love ligthing off bottlerockets. i love crooking my neck toward the sky and observing bright lights and thunderous booms. i love the fact that the universal response to fireworks is "ooh" and "aah." what else provokes this response?
3. cook outs. i love to grill. if i could grill every meal of every day for the rest of my life, you would not here any complaint. last night i did up some shrimp, chicken, beef sausages, and corn on the cob. my grandfather was a master griller. my father is a man of great talent (he only uses charcoal. refuses to switch over to gas. i love this.) get me in front of a grill. tongs in one hand and a cold oat soda in the other. that's where i belong.
4. northside fest. this only applies to cincinnati residents. but attending this festival the past two years has been a true delight. it's a tailgate party of boisterous proportions (without the tailgates). good friends all gathering together and talking about stuff. you can't beat that.
5. the fourth of july, since it falls three days before my anniversay, will always bring to mind the fond memories of last year. a time when all my friends and family were in town, preparing for what is widely considered the greatest wedding ever. i am going to celebrate the fourth of july to my anniversary in a hannukah-type celebration from here on out. i will call it: fourth-a-versary.
6. watching heidi light off fireworks. i was scared to death, since last year she somehow almost blew her hand off with a firecracker, but watching her take the lighter and set flame to that little wick is just a nice simple delight. she looked good doing it (she always looks good).
7. patriotism. i generally am annoyed at blatant xenophobia, propoganda and flag-waving. but on this one day, i make an exception. cue up the star spangled banner. drape a flag over your shoulders like a heavy weight boxer. order freedom fries with your burger. say things like "that's what makes this country great" in reference to things like sales on natural ice and ground beef. wear the attitude of "don't mess with 'merica" - you've earned it.
that's all i got. perhaps 1776 reasons was a bit too ambitious. feel free to add to the list in a comment.
it wasn't always this way. growing up, in the rural town of carlotta (population 345), the fourth of july was an extraordinary event. shirley johnson, owner of martin and shirley's market (the only market in town) would host a fourth of july extravaganza. big potluck. lots of people, volleyball, horseshoes, great illegal fireworks, and the entire community coming together to enjoy a celebration of epic proportions. the entire thing was put together by the volunteer fire department - a group of "good ol' boys" that loved to drink some beer and light some fireworks. (an observation about growing up: phase one - adults are drinking beer and getting drunk, but you are completely oblivious because playing guns in the street is the only thing that matters. phase two - an awareness that the adults are acting different. the same men walk around with a budweiser in a cousy and become more beligerent and rambunctious throught the evening. in this phase, it seems strange. it seems wrong. DARE told me about this, and i should stay away. phase three: you and your friends are sneaking beers from the cooler and drinking them in the woods where no adults can see you. this is rather easy since the adults are drunk themselves, and don't really notice too much going on. phase four - i'm the adult now. i've got the beer in my hand. i'm getting a little more talkative and loud throughout the course of the evening.)
the celebration of my youth eventually ceased. and for approximately 10 years the fourth of july was no good. everybody would get all excited, but nothing would ever happen worth mentioning. so i cast if off. "you're dead to me fourth of july. i thank you for the three day weekend, but you let me down."
last year was my first fourth of july in kentucky. the foruth of july is taken pretty serious here in florence, kentucky. a quick drive across state lines in indiana offers one the opportunity to buy a plethora of booming and noisy explosives. standing in my driveway the last two years, i am in awe of the 360 degree spectacle of explosions in the sky that lasts for hours. everybody puts on a display. and it's great.
so in honor of the year of this great country's freedom from the tyranny of brittain, i offer 1776 reasons why the fourth of july is a great holidy:
1. it's the ultimate celebration of summer. summer is the best season (you're right kevin). right in the middle of summer we have a reason to get together with family and friends, and enjoy the greatness of the season.
2. fireworks are great. i love ligthing off bottlerockets. i love crooking my neck toward the sky and observing bright lights and thunderous booms. i love the fact that the universal response to fireworks is "ooh" and "aah." what else provokes this response?
3. cook outs. i love to grill. if i could grill every meal of every day for the rest of my life, you would not here any complaint. last night i did up some shrimp, chicken, beef sausages, and corn on the cob. my grandfather was a master griller. my father is a man of great talent (he only uses charcoal. refuses to switch over to gas. i love this.) get me in front of a grill. tongs in one hand and a cold oat soda in the other. that's where i belong.
4. northside fest. this only applies to cincinnati residents. but attending this festival the past two years has been a true delight. it's a tailgate party of boisterous proportions (without the tailgates). good friends all gathering together and talking about stuff. you can't beat that.
5. the fourth of july, since it falls three days before my anniversay, will always bring to mind the fond memories of last year. a time when all my friends and family were in town, preparing for what is widely considered the greatest wedding ever. i am going to celebrate the fourth of july to my anniversary in a hannukah-type celebration from here on out. i will call it: fourth-a-versary.
6. watching heidi light off fireworks. i was scared to death, since last year she somehow almost blew her hand off with a firecracker, but watching her take the lighter and set flame to that little wick is just a nice simple delight. she looked good doing it (she always looks good).
7. patriotism. i generally am annoyed at blatant xenophobia, propoganda and flag-waving. but on this one day, i make an exception. cue up the star spangled banner. drape a flag over your shoulders like a heavy weight boxer. order freedom fries with your burger. say things like "that's what makes this country great" in reference to things like sales on natural ice and ground beef. wear the attitude of "don't mess with 'merica" - you've earned it.
that's all i got. perhaps 1776 reasons was a bit too ambitious. feel free to add to the list in a comment.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
shot at love.
tuesday night ended up with my lady and me sitting on the couch, watching the season finale of "a shot at love with tila tequila II" on mtv.
i guess nothing more needs to be said.
but i'm bored and it was all too good to just let go without some passing, and of course, scathing comments about the little lady...
like i said, it's the season finale. picture this little asian girl with terrible tattoos, standing on some elaborate blue and pink stage with massive phallic stuctures surrounding her, as two people, one man and one woman, come to her, one at a time, in order to find out if they get a plastic key, and if they get to hear those magical words that every kid grows up longing to hear: "your still have a shot at love... are you interested?" (i guess they have to allude to her last name of "tequila" by making her use the "shot at love" line each week. something tells me her real name isn't tequila. but i could be wrong. perhaps there is a wonderful tequila family out there. living in des moines, iowa. her dad's a mechanic and he own's his own part store, called "jose's shot shop" (his first name has to be jose (middle name cuervo) and he has to include a reference to alcohol in his business name... it's just the way it has to be.) and her mom's a homemaker, taking care of the 14 other tequila kids, who are less famous than their popstar sister, but nobody knows why (seriously, who is this girl, why is she famous, and why did i watch her stupid show?)).
so we have this guy and this girl who have competed for tila's love by performing weekly ridiculous and degrading sexual innuendo-laden trashy feats to earn favor with this little dwarf of a girl. and the two are really in love with tila. you can tell in the way they say "i love her, i have never loved anybody like this, i will make her happy forever," etc.
first up is the guy. some football coach from ohio, (who earlier in the season had his jaw broken by another dude in what is seriously the best punch i have ever seen landed in my entire life). guy gets shot down by tila. he's heartbroken. he's almost in tears. he doesn't understand. and he drops his head in shame and exits.
next up is the bisexual girl, who admits in the limo ride to this meeting that she is confused and questioning her sexuality (isn't that just the definition of a bisexual? is this really surprising?) tila offers her the key, and the girl stands there and says "nope." tila gets pissed and loses it. accusing this girl of leading her on and bringing her great shame, which is most likely true.
the aftermath is this: tila sobbing in her female-variated austin powers room, crying, "why did this happen again. what am i doing wrong? i just don't know what else i can do."
seriously? "what am i doing wrong?" is this the real question this girl is asking? not only has every reality love competition romance gone up in flames, but you have the unique advantage (?) of having gone through this before. you honestly don't know why this keeps happening to you? maybe because you get two dozen horny people together, get them drunk and judge them based on their swimwear presentation and the nice things they say to you in 20-minute dates. you expect true love from this? i'm torn between feeling truly sorry for this girl, who has spent her life performing and being abused by mtv, thinking that she can somehow "fame" her way to happiness, and being completely pissed-angry and ready to ridicule her for being a tyrannical tramp. i'm leaning toward the latter, but then i realize that there are people in this world who don't know the first thing about love because they don't know the first thing about themselves. it's tragic really. a world full of people who think they are good. that they deserve something. that they are owed all good things because they are "good" people. nobody is good. you don't deserve a thing. you and i are depraved people who, if we got what we deserved in this life, would never smile again.
tila tequila is a sad little girl. and i feel sorry for her. maybe someday she will find a good christian man who will love, cherish, honor and respect her. and she will live happily ever after... i wonder if she would change her name?
i guess nothing more needs to be said.
but i'm bored and it was all too good to just let go without some passing, and of course, scathing comments about the little lady...
like i said, it's the season finale. picture this little asian girl with terrible tattoos, standing on some elaborate blue and pink stage with massive phallic stuctures surrounding her, as two people, one man and one woman, come to her, one at a time, in order to find out if they get a plastic key, and if they get to hear those magical words that every kid grows up longing to hear: "your still have a shot at love... are you interested?" (i guess they have to allude to her last name of "tequila" by making her use the "shot at love" line each week. something tells me her real name isn't tequila. but i could be wrong. perhaps there is a wonderful tequila family out there. living in des moines, iowa. her dad's a mechanic and he own's his own part store, called "jose's shot shop" (his first name has to be jose (middle name cuervo) and he has to include a reference to alcohol in his business name... it's just the way it has to be.) and her mom's a homemaker, taking care of the 14 other tequila kids, who are less famous than their popstar sister, but nobody knows why (seriously, who is this girl, why is she famous, and why did i watch her stupid show?)).
so we have this guy and this girl who have competed for tila's love by performing weekly ridiculous and degrading sexual innuendo-laden trashy feats to earn favor with this little dwarf of a girl. and the two are really in love with tila. you can tell in the way they say "i love her, i have never loved anybody like this, i will make her happy forever," etc.
first up is the guy. some football coach from ohio, (who earlier in the season had his jaw broken by another dude in what is seriously the best punch i have ever seen landed in my entire life). guy gets shot down by tila. he's heartbroken. he's almost in tears. he doesn't understand. and he drops his head in shame and exits.
next up is the bisexual girl, who admits in the limo ride to this meeting that she is confused and questioning her sexuality (isn't that just the definition of a bisexual? is this really surprising?) tila offers her the key, and the girl stands there and says "nope." tila gets pissed and loses it. accusing this girl of leading her on and bringing her great shame, which is most likely true.
the aftermath is this: tila sobbing in her female-variated austin powers room, crying, "why did this happen again. what am i doing wrong? i just don't know what else i can do."
seriously? "what am i doing wrong?" is this the real question this girl is asking? not only has every reality love competition romance gone up in flames, but you have the unique advantage (?) of having gone through this before. you honestly don't know why this keeps happening to you? maybe because you get two dozen horny people together, get them drunk and judge them based on their swimwear presentation and the nice things they say to you in 20-minute dates. you expect true love from this? i'm torn between feeling truly sorry for this girl, who has spent her life performing and being abused by mtv, thinking that she can somehow "fame" her way to happiness, and being completely pissed-angry and ready to ridicule her for being a tyrannical tramp. i'm leaning toward the latter, but then i realize that there are people in this world who don't know the first thing about love because they don't know the first thing about themselves. it's tragic really. a world full of people who think they are good. that they deserve something. that they are owed all good things because they are "good" people. nobody is good. you don't deserve a thing. you and i are depraved people who, if we got what we deserved in this life, would never smile again.
tila tequila is a sad little girl. and i feel sorry for her. maybe someday she will find a good christian man who will love, cherish, honor and respect her. and she will live happily ever after... i wonder if she would change her name?
Friday, June 27, 2008
assault
i got my hands on two albums today:
1) sigur ros - new one (not even going to waste my time typing out that ridiculous title) and
2) girl talk - feed the animals. (you can get the album on myspace (http://www.myspace.com/girltalk) - name your price... live with your conscience)
let make make this plain and simple. sigur ros is boring.
wait. that's not what i meant to say. how should i put this? girl talk is such a delight and a constant thrill ride from beginning to end, that i can't go back to "regular" music for some time now. girl talk, in case you are not familiar, is some dj dude who takes samples from songs of each decade and simply "mashes" them up together. the result? a ADD-riddled trip through pop music from every place that you can imagine. this man is a genius, and i don't think that is an overstatement. as i sit for hours listening to these tracks, i close my eyes and see... cheerleading competitions. it's "bring it on." perhaps that description will scare you away, but just listen... you won't regret it. i played it for heidi last night, and she repeatedly smiled, chuckled, and lost her mind.
i love sigur ros. the performance i attended at the copely music hall in san diego will always be perhaps the greatest concert experience of my life. but for the rest of this weekend, and perhaps even longer, my ears are being assaulted by girl talk.
speaking of assault (not really, i just felt like a segue would be nice to discuss my next subject), heidi and i spent the last week in baltimore babysitting our niece and nephew (summer and johnny, ages 2 and 3). a few thougths about this adventure, simply listed:
+ free birth control. it's going to be awile before the braggs expand the family. don't get me wrong, i love kids, and can't wait to be a dad... but kids are crazy. kids are what you might call a life-altering (destroying?) move in life. not ready for that yet.
+ i like being an uncle. the kids loved heidi and i. for the first time since i met these kids, they actually knew my name and wanted to play with me and be close to me. i got to jump on the bed, wrestle, play with cars, swim in an inflatable pool, chase scared children while grunting like a monster, put together puzzles, and cuddle with adorable little children. i like it. 10 years from now i am totally going to be the annoying uncle who says to the self-conscious and embarrassed teenage girl, "i used to give you baths." we all have that uncle, and we all love him.
+ cross west virginia, pennsylvania and maryland off the list of states that i have not visited. only 40 something more to go. i am excited to say that i have been further east than cincinnati. for some reason these things are exciting to me. i love to look at the map of this country we call "the united states of america" and think about the places i have been, and the places i would like to go someday. i need to take a road trip. on a motorcyle. with thousands of dollars to blow. someday.
+ sublime sing-a-long on the way home. i am sorry for my mid-western friends who never thought that sublime was cool, and therefore have no sentimental attachment to sublime. if you can't sing every word of every song, then you are missing out on something spectacular.
+ humidity is dumb. i wish i could walk around with a giant oscillating fan that surrounds me and blows cool air on me everywhere i go.
+ dora the explorer is terrible. i still have some song about stirring chocolate stuck in my head. it haunts me.
+ heidi is going to be a good mom. i'm glad that i will someday be a part of this.
+ suddenly the rigors of a puppy seem small in comparison. but at least toddlers don't constantly display the "red rocket" and attempt to hump your leg at every waking moment.
+ it's officially summer. shorts, t shirts and flip flops from here on out. goodbye pants. see you in the fall.
1) sigur ros - new one (not even going to waste my time typing out that ridiculous title) and
2) girl talk - feed the animals. (you can get the album on myspace (http://www.myspace.com/girltalk) - name your price... live with your conscience)
let make make this plain and simple. sigur ros is boring.
wait. that's not what i meant to say. how should i put this? girl talk is such a delight and a constant thrill ride from beginning to end, that i can't go back to "regular" music for some time now. girl talk, in case you are not familiar, is some dj dude who takes samples from songs of each decade and simply "mashes" them up together. the result? a ADD-riddled trip through pop music from every place that you can imagine. this man is a genius, and i don't think that is an overstatement. as i sit for hours listening to these tracks, i close my eyes and see... cheerleading competitions. it's "bring it on." perhaps that description will scare you away, but just listen... you won't regret it. i played it for heidi last night, and she repeatedly smiled, chuckled, and lost her mind.
i love sigur ros. the performance i attended at the copely music hall in san diego will always be perhaps the greatest concert experience of my life. but for the rest of this weekend, and perhaps even longer, my ears are being assaulted by girl talk.
speaking of assault (not really, i just felt like a segue would be nice to discuss my next subject), heidi and i spent the last week in baltimore babysitting our niece and nephew (summer and johnny, ages 2 and 3). a few thougths about this adventure, simply listed:
+ free birth control. it's going to be awile before the braggs expand the family. don't get me wrong, i love kids, and can't wait to be a dad... but kids are crazy. kids are what you might call a life-altering (destroying?) move in life. not ready for that yet.
+ i like being an uncle. the kids loved heidi and i. for the first time since i met these kids, they actually knew my name and wanted to play with me and be close to me. i got to jump on the bed, wrestle, play with cars, swim in an inflatable pool, chase scared children while grunting like a monster, put together puzzles, and cuddle with adorable little children. i like it. 10 years from now i am totally going to be the annoying uncle who says to the self-conscious and embarrassed teenage girl, "i used to give you baths." we all have that uncle, and we all love him.
+ cross west virginia, pennsylvania and maryland off the list of states that i have not visited. only 40 something more to go. i am excited to say that i have been further east than cincinnati. for some reason these things are exciting to me. i love to look at the map of this country we call "the united states of america" and think about the places i have been, and the places i would like to go someday. i need to take a road trip. on a motorcyle. with thousands of dollars to blow. someday.
+ sublime sing-a-long on the way home. i am sorry for my mid-western friends who never thought that sublime was cool, and therefore have no sentimental attachment to sublime. if you can't sing every word of every song, then you are missing out on something spectacular.
+ humidity is dumb. i wish i could walk around with a giant oscillating fan that surrounds me and blows cool air on me everywhere i go.
+ dora the explorer is terrible. i still have some song about stirring chocolate stuck in my head. it haunts me.
+ heidi is going to be a good mom. i'm glad that i will someday be a part of this.
+ suddenly the rigors of a puppy seem small in comparison. but at least toddlers don't constantly display the "red rocket" and attempt to hump your leg at every waking moment.
+ it's officially summer. shorts, t shirts and flip flops from here on out. goodbye pants. see you in the fall.
Monday, June 16, 2008
masculinity as defined by "the oc"
the oc is the greatest television show of all time. this statement is a fact. there is no room for debate on this one. unquestionable greatness. i am sure that many of you will debate my conclusion (the conclusion was arrived at through a strict scientific method approach, and is supported by a copious amount of research and study).
heidi and i have been marathon-ing the first season (the greatest of the series). here's what i know about this show as i watch it for approximately the fifth or sixth time in my lifetime: the oc gives, through the holy trinity of male characters (sandy, seth and ryan) every single man in america something to strive after, a model to live for, and a goal to attain in the pursuit of manhood. let's take a look at this character by character, keeping in mind that i write this with an unblemished record of staunch heterosexuality...
ryan atwood
ryan is from chino (the hillarity of chino being portrayed as some tough/ghetto/wrong side of the track/you're lucky to stay alive town is completely fabricated and inaccurate). but ryan is tough. ryan is really tough. i've often had the conversation with many of my male friends about the importance of fights in the development and formulation of a man. i maintain that if you have never been punched in the face or in the stomach by another man, you are missing something. until you get hit (and probably knocked down) you will never know what you are made of. and more importantly, you will always be afraid of being hit, which, will prohibit you from ever reaching your full potential. you will never: yell out insults at a baseball game, get in some drunk dude's face for making an inappropriate comment directed toward your lady, have the back of your friends (even when they deserve whatever is coming to them) or call out some dude who pushes your 5-year old kid out of the way to get a foul ball at a game. you think this is no big deal? you're wrong. it's all about respect here, and while i am not a violent man by any means, i'm ready to throw a punch, and just as importantly, take one on the chin at any time, for any worthy cause (this sounds familiar - fight club anyone?) ryan atwood was not a pacifist.
now, ryan has a temper, and typically has poor taste in apparel and women (marissa was crazy), but he was a man's man. a man of few words, yet powerful looks that say it all. the kind of dude you want to have in your close circle of friends. ryan would do anything for any one of his friends/family at anytime. this is a quality that is sorely lacking in the 21st american male. bring back the testosterone... the feminists will get over themselves once they realize that this is the way things are supposed to be.
seth cohen
seth cohen is the antithesis to ryan atwood. as much as i gush over the qualities of ryan, i am just as committed to the cause of promoting seth coen as 1/3 of the perfect man composite. seth is a genius. quick-witted, sarcastic, well-dressed, rambling and loveable in that self-loathing, bumbling fool kind of way. seth cohen shows determination (he was in love with summer since the 4th grade). he can sail (all men should know how to sail... just in case), he wears chucks (always a good footwear option) and he has a toy horse named "captain oats." perhaps all of this is pedantic and juvenile, but it works. i'll be honest, if i'm taking a "which oc character are you most like?" quiz via some flashing link on myspace, the outcome will probably read seth coen. this is not such a bad thing (at least it wouldn't be luke or oliver). seth has the rare, yet vitally important quality of being able to bring laughter to a tense situation, and to flatter anybody, at anytime with a quip or bromide. on top of all this, anna and summer - the thanksgiving episode - that's some good stuff. dude might appear to be clueless and bumbling, but he's a man with a master plan. i respect that.
seth cohen single-handedly made geek "chic." now this is not that big of a deal, and i feel a little ashamed to even have these thoughts, but it is what it is. he is responsible for representing every nerd with a nintendo controler belt buckle out there (on second thought, i hate the gimmick marketing ploy that has this country in a stranglehold because every disenfranchised, self-esteemless kid with glasses think he/she is unique and special and "counter-whatever" simply because he/she has some pop culture slogan on a t shirt that they bought at urban outfitters that was made to look like it was purchased at a thrift store... [and don't even get me started on how the vintage industry has destoryed the thrift store... i can't get a decent pair of pants or a t shirt these days, which is why i have not bought an article of clothing in roughly 3 years]}.
sandy cohen
now for the grand finale. if you could only choose one man of the oc to orient your life after, let it be the gregarious raconteur, sandy cohen. sandy combines the strength and "fight" of ryan with the wit and charisma of seth. sandy is the man that we all should aspire to be. he's an idealist, a man of principles, and the funniest character on the show. sandy is the dad that we all wish we had, and someday hope to be. he's ridiculously cheesy and has a moxy about him unmatched by anyone else ever portrayed on the small screen. sandy has a huge heart. he takes in a troubled youth and raises him as his own. he loves his wife unabashadly and sings to her for their anniversay. sandy would do anything for his family, and often times is forced to do so. sandy lives by a principal of strong morals and ethics. i respect that. you don't see that enough these days. i love sandy cohen. i want sandy cohen to be my dad. i want to be sandy coen. there, i said it. i am not exaggerating when i say that i have, throughout the process of watching this show one hundred times, considered getting a notepad and pencil to write down every thing that sandy says and does, so that i might emulate it in my daily life. just today, i spet time online looking into what it takes to become a lawyer (apparently it's not that easy, and takes a lot more work than i originally presumed). i am not Jewish (surprising). i'm never going to be a lawyer. i'm never going to live in a mansion in newport beach (i did marry the beuatiful and wonderful blonde though...) give me a pair of caterpillars to place above my eyes and a long board to hit the waves every morning before i head into the office. i'm ready for a sandy tranformation.
i've lost my mind. i really have. in all seriousness (this entry has not been so), that i am really serious about manhood. i'm a "masculinist." one of the reasons that i love the bible is the firm commitment to promoting men to men. men are to be leaders. men should be strong fathers and loving and gentle husbands. a man should be a teacher, provider, coach, friend, and leader to his family, friends and community. a man should stand up for what is right, even when everyone around him is living wrong. a man should live according to his convictions, he should do what is right, both in front of others, and in private. a good man is hard to find. i wish it were not so. the feminization of men in this culture is alarming and tragic.
much more could be said. but i'm rambling, and i have to finish the dinner that i am preparing for heidi before she gets home from work (i didn't say i was a chauvinist... just a "masculinist")
heidi and i have been marathon-ing the first season (the greatest of the series). here's what i know about this show as i watch it for approximately the fifth or sixth time in my lifetime: the oc gives, through the holy trinity of male characters (sandy, seth and ryan) every single man in america something to strive after, a model to live for, and a goal to attain in the pursuit of manhood. let's take a look at this character by character, keeping in mind that i write this with an unblemished record of staunch heterosexuality...
ryan atwood
ryan is from chino (the hillarity of chino being portrayed as some tough/ghetto/wrong side of the track/you're lucky to stay alive town is completely fabricated and inaccurate). but ryan is tough. ryan is really tough. i've often had the conversation with many of my male friends about the importance of fights in the development and formulation of a man. i maintain that if you have never been punched in the face or in the stomach by another man, you are missing something. until you get hit (and probably knocked down) you will never know what you are made of. and more importantly, you will always be afraid of being hit, which, will prohibit you from ever reaching your full potential. you will never: yell out insults at a baseball game, get in some drunk dude's face for making an inappropriate comment directed toward your lady, have the back of your friends (even when they deserve whatever is coming to them) or call out some dude who pushes your 5-year old kid out of the way to get a foul ball at a game. you think this is no big deal? you're wrong. it's all about respect here, and while i am not a violent man by any means, i'm ready to throw a punch, and just as importantly, take one on the chin at any time, for any worthy cause (this sounds familiar - fight club anyone?) ryan atwood was not a pacifist. now, ryan has a temper, and typically has poor taste in apparel and women (marissa was crazy), but he was a man's man. a man of few words, yet powerful looks that say it all. the kind of dude you want to have in your close circle of friends. ryan would do anything for any one of his friends/family at anytime. this is a quality that is sorely lacking in the 21st american male. bring back the testosterone... the feminists will get over themselves once they realize that this is the way things are supposed to be.
seth cohen
seth cohen is the antithesis to ryan atwood. as much as i gush over the qualities of ryan, i am just as committed to the cause of promoting seth coen as 1/3 of the perfect man composite. seth is a genius. quick-witted, sarcastic, well-dressed, rambling and loveable in that self-loathing, bumbling fool kind of way. seth cohen shows determination (he was in love with summer since the 4th grade). he can sail (all men should know how to sail... just in case), he wears chucks (always a good footwear option) and he has a toy horse named "captain oats." perhaps all of this is pedantic and juvenile, but it works. i'll be honest, if i'm taking a "which oc character are you most like?" quiz via some flashing link on myspace, the outcome will probably read seth coen. this is not such a bad thing (at least it wouldn't be luke or oliver). seth has the rare, yet vitally important quality of being able to bring laughter to a tense situation, and to flatter anybody, at anytime with a quip or bromide. on top of all this, anna and summer - the thanksgiving episode - that's some good stuff. dude might appear to be clueless and bumbling, but he's a man with a master plan. i respect that. seth cohen single-handedly made geek "chic." now this is not that big of a deal, and i feel a little ashamed to even have these thoughts, but it is what it is. he is responsible for representing every nerd with a nintendo controler belt buckle out there (on second thought, i hate the gimmick marketing ploy that has this country in a stranglehold because every disenfranchised, self-esteemless kid with glasses think he/she is unique and special and "counter-whatever" simply because he/she has some pop culture slogan on a t shirt that they bought at urban outfitters that was made to look like it was purchased at a thrift store... [and don't even get me started on how the vintage industry has destoryed the thrift store... i can't get a decent pair of pants or a t shirt these days, which is why i have not bought an article of clothing in roughly 3 years]}.
sandy cohen
now for the grand finale. if you could only choose one man of the oc to orient your life after, let it be the gregarious raconteur, sandy cohen. sandy combines the strength and "fight" of ryan with the wit and charisma of seth. sandy is the man that we all should aspire to be. he's an idealist, a man of principles, and the funniest character on the show. sandy is the dad that we all wish we had, and someday hope to be. he's ridiculously cheesy and has a moxy about him unmatched by anyone else ever portrayed on the small screen. sandy has a huge heart. he takes in a troubled youth and raises him as his own. he loves his wife unabashadly and sings to her for their anniversay. sandy would do anything for his family, and often times is forced to do so. sandy lives by a principal of strong morals and ethics. i respect that. you don't see that enough these days. i love sandy cohen. i want sandy cohen to be my dad. i want to be sandy coen. there, i said it. i am not exaggerating when i say that i have, throughout the process of watching this show one hundred times, considered getting a notepad and pencil to write down every thing that sandy says and does, so that i might emulate it in my daily life. just today, i spet time online looking into what it takes to become a lawyer (apparently it's not that easy, and takes a lot more work than i originally presumed). i am not Jewish (surprising). i'm never going to be a lawyer. i'm never going to live in a mansion in newport beach (i did marry the beuatiful and wonderful blonde though...) give me a pair of caterpillars to place above my eyes and a long board to hit the waves every morning before i head into the office. i'm ready for a sandy tranformation.i've lost my mind. i really have. in all seriousness (this entry has not been so), that i am really serious about manhood. i'm a "masculinist." one of the reasons that i love the bible is the firm commitment to promoting men to men. men are to be leaders. men should be strong fathers and loving and gentle husbands. a man should be a teacher, provider, coach, friend, and leader to his family, friends and community. a man should stand up for what is right, even when everyone around him is living wrong. a man should live according to his convictions, he should do what is right, both in front of others, and in private. a good man is hard to find. i wish it were not so. the feminization of men in this culture is alarming and tragic.
much more could be said. but i'm rambling, and i have to finish the dinner that i am preparing for heidi before she gets home from work (i didn't say i was a chauvinist... just a "masculinist")
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
vegas, baby
as eluded to last week, heidi and i were fortunate enough to be invited to a weekend getaway to "the city that should never have been invented in the first place and is absolutely crazy in every way, but a heck of a good time," otherwise known as las vegas. thanks to some amazing friends who made this one happen.
in honor of this most recent trip, i present you with "justin's do's and don'ts of las vegas - '08 [the '08 is probably not needed, since it will mostly likely be another four years at least until i get to go back there. it just sounds official]).
DO: stay at the palazzo
as you can see, this place is amazing. opened in january of this year, this high-class, can't find a blackjack table under $25 minimum hotel-casino is a treat of luxury. 12 people packed into adjoining suites makes for reasonable fares and good times (especially 4 am returns to the room with some members of the party a bit tipsy and rowdy.) don't touch anything in the fridge or pantry. there are sensors and you are charged if you even move something. how ridiculous is that? only in vegas (i am going to end each section with that flippant and trite little statement... fyi.)
DO: play as much blackjack as possible.
i love blackjack. $10 minimums are a little steep for my broke-ass tastes, but nonetheless, some good times were had. i was able to play with $100 for the entire weekend. just kept breaking even at every point. just call me "even steven." my friend brian is an expert blackjack player. he knows all the rules and plays by "the book" (apparently there is not really an actual book, but all blackjackers refer to playing by the book). i learned a lot about playing this simple game. the adreneline that goes through the veins when you you've "doubled down" or split a pair of eights is something wonderful. i could see myself as a cumpolsive gambler. that sounds like a worthy ambition to me.
DON'T: go to this guy's table
my friend here was a ball-busting dealer. seriously, i lost some money while this guy was dealing. he's from thailand. i'm never going to thailand... i can only assume i would come back with only a pair of dirty tube socks and an infectious disease.
DON'T: ever surrender.
apparently, when playing blackjack you can opt to "surrender" if you feel that a loss is obvious. when one surrenders, he withdraws from the game and holds on to half of the bet on the table. (never do "insurance" either, which is when a dealer shows an ace, but that's another point). at one point during one of the long nights (we failed to fall asleep before 4 am both nights), my friend ethan leaned over to taylor (far left) and said, "you should surrender, i've never seen somebody do that." taylor, being the champ that he is, obliged, and spent the rest of the weekend being called out by every one of us for being a "pussy" and for lacking the pair of male anatomical spheres that rest in your underpants (underpants... that's great). by the end of the weekend, taylor had earned the name "captain surrender." i don't think he thought it was as funny as the rest of us.
DON'T: count your money when youre sittin' at the table. there'll be time enough for countin when the dealins done.
according to the gambler (kenny rogers) i am committing some great crime in this picture. you have to understand though, i don't have a lot of money. and at times heidi was standing behind me and gasping each time i lost a hand. it was stressful. i kept thinking to myself, "stop this nonsense. your wife is going to be eating bologna sandwiches for a month, and you're going to have to ride your bike to work for a year if you lose this money (remember, i said i never exceeded a hundred bucks, so you have an idea of my financial situation these days.)"
DO: get all dressed up with your lady and go to shibuya for some of the best sushi you've ever had.
sake bombs. always a great (or bad) idea. any community activity that requires multiple toasts and downing alcoholic drinks like water is going to pretty fun. isn't heidi adorable? she was so much fun on this trip. she bet a few hands at the tables when she wasn't dancing at dick's last stand or studio 54 with the rest of the ladies.
DON'T: end your night a) looking like this lady (if you are a lady) or b) hooking up with this lady (if you are a fella)
not much to say here. heidi and the rest of the girls were all about the dancing while i and the rest of the boys were all about the gambling. the girls got some VIP passes to studio 54, as long as, and i quote, "you don't bring no guys with you." apparently there was a plethora of sleazy dudes trying to grind and feel up girls in the club, so our ladies were given full access to a comp bar and give the royal treatment so that some drunk, 5'6" cell phone salesman with a striped shirt and a popped collar could try to grab my wife's anatomy, that, needless to say, is not up for grabs by any man but myself. heidi loves to dance. she takes over any dance floor, anywhere. the girls on the sidelines typically hate her, and the guys... well we know what the guys are trying to do. i'm getting angry now. that's enough of that thought.
DO: take lots of pictures.
of course, we did not, and that is why i am only posting a few for you to enjoy. a special thanks to some of the most wonderful people that i know, who made this whole thing possible. i hate vegas. but in the same breath, i love vegas. what are you going to do?
in honor of this most recent trip, i present you with "justin's do's and don'ts of las vegas - '08 [the '08 is probably not needed, since it will mostly likely be another four years at least until i get to go back there. it just sounds official]).
DO: stay at the palazzo
as you can see, this place is amazing. opened in january of this year, this high-class, can't find a blackjack table under $25 minimum hotel-casino is a treat of luxury. 12 people packed into adjoining suites makes for reasonable fares and good times (especially 4 am returns to the room with some members of the party a bit tipsy and rowdy.) don't touch anything in the fridge or pantry. there are sensors and you are charged if you even move something. how ridiculous is that? only in vegas (i am going to end each section with that flippant and trite little statement... fyi.)
DO: play as much blackjack as possible.
i love blackjack. $10 minimums are a little steep for my broke-ass tastes, but nonetheless, some good times were had. i was able to play with $100 for the entire weekend. just kept breaking even at every point. just call me "even steven." my friend brian is an expert blackjack player. he knows all the rules and plays by "the book" (apparently there is not really an actual book, but all blackjackers refer to playing by the book). i learned a lot about playing this simple game. the adreneline that goes through the veins when you you've "doubled down" or split a pair of eights is something wonderful. i could see myself as a cumpolsive gambler. that sounds like a worthy ambition to me.
DON'T: go to this guy's table
my friend here was a ball-busting dealer. seriously, i lost some money while this guy was dealing. he's from thailand. i'm never going to thailand... i can only assume i would come back with only a pair of dirty tube socks and an infectious disease.
DON'T: ever surrender.
apparently, when playing blackjack you can opt to "surrender" if you feel that a loss is obvious. when one surrenders, he withdraws from the game and holds on to half of the bet on the table. (never do "insurance" either, which is when a dealer shows an ace, but that's another point). at one point during one of the long nights (we failed to fall asleep before 4 am both nights), my friend ethan leaned over to taylor (far left) and said, "you should surrender, i've never seen somebody do that." taylor, being the champ that he is, obliged, and spent the rest of the weekend being called out by every one of us for being a "pussy" and for lacking the pair of male anatomical spheres that rest in your underpants (underpants... that's great). by the end of the weekend, taylor had earned the name "captain surrender." i don't think he thought it was as funny as the rest of us.
DON'T: count your money when youre sittin' at the table. there'll be time enough for countin when the dealins done.
according to the gambler (kenny rogers) i am committing some great crime in this picture. you have to understand though, i don't have a lot of money. and at times heidi was standing behind me and gasping each time i lost a hand. it was stressful. i kept thinking to myself, "stop this nonsense. your wife is going to be eating bologna sandwiches for a month, and you're going to have to ride your bike to work for a year if you lose this money (remember, i said i never exceeded a hundred bucks, so you have an idea of my financial situation these days.)"
DO: get all dressed up with your lady and go to shibuya for some of the best sushi you've ever had.
sake bombs. always a great (or bad) idea. any community activity that requires multiple toasts and downing alcoholic drinks like water is going to pretty fun. isn't heidi adorable? she was so much fun on this trip. she bet a few hands at the tables when she wasn't dancing at dick's last stand or studio 54 with the rest of the ladies.
DON'T: end your night a) looking like this lady (if you are a lady) or b) hooking up with this lady (if you are a fella)
not much to say here. heidi and the rest of the girls were all about the dancing while i and the rest of the boys were all about the gambling. the girls got some VIP passes to studio 54, as long as, and i quote, "you don't bring no guys with you." apparently there was a plethora of sleazy dudes trying to grind and feel up girls in the club, so our ladies were given full access to a comp bar and give the royal treatment so that some drunk, 5'6" cell phone salesman with a striped shirt and a popped collar could try to grab my wife's anatomy, that, needless to say, is not up for grabs by any man but myself. heidi loves to dance. she takes over any dance floor, anywhere. the girls on the sidelines typically hate her, and the guys... well we know what the guys are trying to do. i'm getting angry now. that's enough of that thought.
DO: take lots of pictures.
of course, we did not, and that is why i am only posting a few for you to enjoy. a special thanks to some of the most wonderful people that i know, who made this whole thing possible. i hate vegas. but in the same breath, i love vegas. what are you going to do?
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