C'mon New Year!

So yesterday I was informed that one of my jobs, job #2, will be changing it's hours of operation. The restaurant has been slow for lunch shifts, and so we are closing our doors for lunch. Right now it is not cost effective to stay open for lunch to do the minimal business we are receiving.

This is not good news for your truly who works on average 4 lunch shifts a week, combined with 2 dinner shifts. My pocket is going to take a big hit. My nights aren't free right now due to my rehearsal schedule and my other job doesn't really pay well enough for me to pick up more shifts at the store.

Bottom line is that I appear to be back in the hunt for gainful employment! I hope 2010 holds a few pleasant surprises for me.

45-12

Jason Campbell attributed this latest Redskins loss to either 'loss of focus' or 'loss of concentration'! ???? What's the difference?

Anyway, Reb came through with some great tickets! Redskins vs Giants! Monday Night Football! (Nevermind the Skins haven't won a Monday Night Game since 1997. Nevermind the snow. Nevermind the holiday traffic.) We parked at a discount lot several miles from the stadium. We snubbed the shuttle bus and decided to walk to the stadium. We cut across several snow covered fields, wandered around an industrial park lot before scaling a chain link fence, sliding down an embankment and then walked the remaining 2 miles to the stadium.

By the time we found our seats the Giants were up by a touchdown. The game went downhill from there. We were in the second row, 50 yard line - right behind the Skins' bench. We were so close we could see the steam rising from their heads. So close I could count Albert Haynesworth's F-bombs during his tantrums. We were so close to the action I had a running conversation going with Quinton Ganther, and a few other players. I even made eye contact with Antwaan Randle El and received a nod when he noticed I was wearing his jersey!

Amazing seats! God-Awful Game!

When it's all said and done, and done and said I got to see an NFL game from an amazing perspective, and helped boost my older brother over a fence while standing knee-deep in a snowdrift! Getting to the game was half the fun!

Digging Out!

The driveway blanketed with snow! Sara and I valiantly shoveled several different times just to get it clear (ish).

Sunday morning before I broke the snowblower. I don't think it was meant to handle soo much snow!

Blizzard '09!

Twice this morning Sara and I got up to shovel the driveway so that we could go to our jobs, which we believed to be completely asinine for making us come out in this blizzard. Twice our bosses let us know after the fact that we do not have to go into work today! (I actually still might have to go in since I was scheduled for a double and right now we're technically only closed for lunch!)
The snow is really pretty, and it's not supposed to stop anytime soon. In fact, after it's all and done we're supposed to end up with possibly 2 feet.

Tracer's Revisited!

Here is a link to the Baltimore Sun's review of 'Tracers'! It came out after the show closed and was supposed to talk up Standing O's next season. It's just a little something to fan the flames of my ego.

* I hope to attach some production photos to this post shortly.

4 O'CLOCK DOT COM

I want to design a website.

The website will be there to inform the public, and uneducated masses that most restaurants that are open for lunch switch over to dinner at 4PM. If you come in before 4PM you have a lunch server. If you come in after 4PM you will get a dinner server. If you come in at 3 and stay until almost 7 you have kept the lunch server there 3 additional hours past the end of their shift!

Not cool! Not cool at all.

The website will contain information for people who go out to eat and have never had to serve a day in their lives. The 4PM rule. Don't call people to join your table 2 1/2 hours into your meal. Don't assume a verbal compliment is as valuable as a cash gratuity. Don't walk into a restaurant at 5 minutes to close and act like everyone's best friend - no one likes you at that point! ETC! You get the point!

A Good Day Off!

Today was my first day off all week. I've arranged it so between rehearsals, and both jobs I should get a Sunday off occasionally. Today was jam-packed!

Sara woke me up early this morning with concern over a friend/acquaintance of ours. His Facebook status claimed he died in a car accident overnight. Too early for a mystery. Sara left for work and I tried to go back to sleep.

As I awoke I was perturbed by the possible death of this Facebook friend of mine so I signed online and started to peruse the internet for confirmation or denial of his death. (Turns out it was a hoax. The perpetrator is still unknown.) I receive an IM - instant message - from another friend of mine informing me that his marriage is over after almost a decade and a half! I was still on my first cup of coffee!

Redskins lost a close game to the undefeated Saints. I cook collard greens & sausage soup for dinner, and watched George C. Scott in 'The Christmas Carol'. Sara got home from work and we set up the Xmas tree and watched 'Gremlins' - a highly overlooked holiday movie!

Decorating the tree was difficult. I would hang an ornament that my mother created years before, bought for me recently, or sent me for a present. It would remind me of her passing. I feel I will have a particularly hard time of it this holiday season since everything reminds me of her & her love of this special time of year.

She loved Xmas music. She got me into theatre by encouraging me into local productions of 'The Christmas Carol'. Our tree is an artificial number we had growing up and Mom later gave it to me for the holidays. Over half of our ornaments have sentimental value to me because of my mother. The holidays will forever remind me of my Mom. This one, being the first since her death, will be especially hard for all of us.

The Clubhouse

The sign on the door does not read 'No Girls Allowed' but it's definitely a boys' hangout. A pool table, 2 flat screen TVs, free wifi, BYOB and the smell of cigar smoke wafting through the air. It's the new cigar lounge/store just a few minutes from my house. Buy a cigar and stay as long as you like.

Men and boys of all ages enjoy getting together to brag, lie and tell stories. This was no exception. I sat in the background watching the second half of the game and chuckled at all the whoppers that were being told. It was nice.

Sad But Thankful

I glanced over at my father after everyone had been served. It was the moment I had been dreading all week - the moment Mom would've normally said grace. She always spoke before the meal, and often cried. Sara and I had talked about what we should do this year. I'm not a prayer but I thought we should acknowledge Mom's absence at the table and remember her blessings of meals past. I looked at my father and he caught my eye and nodded.

I thought he was nodding to say, "I'm okay. We're all okay." In the next moment it became clear to me that he had been thinking about this moment, and perhaps anticipating the awkwardness himself. He opened his mouth and simply stated thanks for family, and togetherness. He expressed gratitude for so many years with my mother. It only lasted a few seconds but I will remember it for a long time.

Turkey was devoured. (I didn't even make it through 1 plate.) The kids giggled. The adults laughed. Later we ate pie and played games. It was a fun time, but part of me just wanted the day to end.

I missed my mother today from the moment I awoke. I've had mood swings all day long - from jubilant to melancholy. I've fondly recalled Thanksgiving from years past. I missed the sound of my Mom's laughter around the dinner table. The holidays were always her favorite time of year, and once her frustration bubbled over then settled down there was always plenty of laughter.

Sara and I hosted our first family Thanksgiving. It was a small, simple, fun, somber, and intimate affair. We did not serve rutabaga this year... sorry Mom!

2 Years & Counting

Yesterday was our 2nd Wedding Anniversary. Cotton or Calico or something like that. Once again Sara and I braved the mean streets of Downtown Annapolis, and wined and dined the night away. We ate at Aqua Terra. Sushi, duck pot stickers and bison burgers! It was an interesting, intimate meal.

It's funny to think about the first 2 years of our marriage. Many things have changed, plans have been altered, and loved ones lost. We still meet all challenges hand in hand; together.

And Cue the 'Taps'!

Another show is over. TRACERS closed earlier tonight, and I'm unsure how to feel about it. Our last performance felt a little off, but the audience seemed to like it, and it ended all the same. There's always the sadness when a show ends, and the happiness that you have your evenings back but this time it's a little difference.

I have grown to really like and respect this cast and crew. Sure we went through a rough patch right before opening but that's in the past. The show wasn't quite the play I had anticipated, but I have thoroughly enjoyed performing this script and sharing the stage with a great, diverse group of guys. I like everyone in the show, and it's been a while since I could say that about a production.

I will miss being a part of this show! I will miss the 2 characters that I can now add to my resume. I will miss the cast-bonding, and the ball-busting! I will miss my Brother's In Arms! It has been an adventure!

Sometimes It Feels Good To Be Busy...

... Sometimes it feels good to sit on your ass and do nothing.

This past weekend I opened a show - Tracers. Filmed a clean energy commercial. (Stay tuned for more details.) Auditioned for a show. Then started off the week with 2 days of double shifts, splitting time between my 2 jobs.

I am looking forward to tomorrow. I am off. I have a callback for the audition in the evening, and I may go in to the restaurant tomorrow to take my 'Server Test' so I can start making some money but other than that I'm free. Oh, and we have to clean the house since we'll be hosting Thanksgiving this year, plus my 2 year Wedding Anniversary is next week and I should try and plan something special...

I need a nap.

Tracers' Opening Night!

Tonight Is Opening Night! 7 actors will step out onto the stage, brave the spotlight and try to transport the audience back to the Vietnam Conflict! It's been a rough rehearsal process. We lost a soldier early on, and fought many small battles along the way. Tonight we'll see what happens!
'All right, get with your team leader. Team leader'll keep you alive, you keep him alive. We all come home alive. Lock and load! Let's get outta here and do this thing.'

A Good Day To Be Sad!

It was a beautiful day - a bit chilly in the morning but as the sun rose over Washington DC the day warmed up a little. I was downtown with my family participating in the Gynecologic Cancer Foundation's 'Race To End Women's Cancer'.
It's been 4 months since my mother passed away from Ovarian Cancer. It's hard to believe that it's only be 4 months. She had planned on walking in the event; she liked to plan ahead. My family went down and walked in her memory, along with several of her friends, and colleagues. We were all members of 'Team Sue'.

It was a beautiful day. There were many smiles, many tears, and too many hugs to count. We walked the 3K and then milled around the plaza sharing memories, taking pictures, and eating bananas. It was a day that I knew my mother would've enjoyed. There were many times during the course of the day when I longed to hear her laugh. Many times during the day when I know she would've been laughing, smiling and enjoying the event.

It's the combination of the grief and the happiness that often gets to me. Yesterday Sara, Bert and I walked around the city. We ate lunch, and had a few cocktails and then walked around the National Mall. We visited the monuments and the memorials. We had a good time but it made me think of visiting DC as a child and having my mother with us. We, the family, went out for dinner last night with my Aunt Anne, Mom's sister, and we had a good meal and enjoyed ourselves. I missed having my Mom at the table with us. Even as we were enjoying ourselves we were missing her. At the race today as people were talking to me about her we all smiled, and laughed but the tears were there, too.

It was a good day to walk the race. It was a good day to be with family. It was a good day to remember my mother. It was, indeed, a good day to be sad.

Oldladyphobia!

Okay, so it's not very PC of me! It's honest.

Old ladies skeeve me out sometimes! It's true. Now I'm not talking about younger vibrant yoga '60 is the new 50' women, I mean the witch ladies. Old, crabby, self-entitled, moth-ball smelling cranks! Old men I'm fine with; maybe because one day I'll be one and can identify on some level but I'm just bothered by old biddies!

I just am. Sorry if that offends but it's mostly true. There are exceptions, of course. I know several older women who do not curdle milk when they walk into a room. They smile, hug, and show genuine affection. There are those though that give me goosebumps, and cause the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end, however. They glower! They skulk! They demand! They condescend! That's what gets me the most, I think.

I deal with old ladies everyday at the part time job I have. They come in and haggle over prices, suspiciously eye me when I offer assistance, and then demand special treatment. The other day there was a woman in a wheelchair - a manual deal - and she was parked in front of the entrance to the stockroom where I needed to go. She was in my way but was annoyed with me when I asked to get by. Then she was muttering to herself as she backed up, and I tried to reassure her by saying, 'You're doing pretty good.'

'Well. I'm doing pretty Well!'

REALLY? I was offering you some reassurance as you back up, trying to be positive with you, and supportive as you maneuver out of the traffic jam you have caused and you correct my grammar? My grammar? You're going to correct my grammar as I stand here holding boxes of product waiting for you to quit causing a fire hazard! Then you'll look at me with a twinkle in your eye as if to say, 'Did you hear what I did? I corrected your grammar, you young scalawag! That's my right, as a senior citizen!'

The goosebumps appear, the neck hair rises, and I grit my teeth. Mrs. Heckleman! I think maybe I can trace it to a teacher I had as a child. She was capital M Mean! She was harsh, gravelly-voiced, and I now realize she smelled of cigarettes and scotch, I believe. She terrorized me that year and ever since then if I see an old lady with a walker, or a couple grannies shuffling down the sidewalk I quickly cross the street, and lower my head.

Life's Little Surprises

I once claimed on a Facebook survey that I had seen every single episode of M+A+S+H! I was wrong! (My father was always a big fan of the show, and I remember always watching it with him. Pleasant memories.) Tonight, after a discouraging day of job searching, and rehearsal I returned home to enjoy an episode of Top Chef: Las Vegas and a glass or two of Seagrams 7: straight up.

M+A+S+H was on the guide, and I always check the episode info. This particular episode was entitled simply: 'Hawkeye'. Alan Alda's character, after a jeep crash, seeks shelter with a Korean farmer and his family. He spends the entire episode delivering a monologue to ward off a concussion. The Korean farmer & his family can only look on in wonder.

Hawkeye talks about everything from the bones of the skull, Yankee Doodle Dandee, whitefish, South Pacific: The Musical, and the wonders of the human thumb. The Roman Caesars could decide your fate with a flick; your dead or I'll see you at the orgy later! The only other language spoken in the episode besides his monologue, for the most part, wass Korean.

I was in awe of Alan Alda's performance. Now some people feel that he 'ruined M+A+S+H in the later years, I know, but I have always been a big fan. I even enjoyed his memoir about stuffing a dead dog. (It's a book, people.) Some people might not have liked the episode. According to shareranks.com it was #6 in the top M+A+S+H episodes. To me it was just a pleasant surprise to watch an episode for the first time.

Does A Drill Sergeant Poop In The Woods?

5 Vietnam Vets walk into the woods - Let me start over. 5 guys playing American soldiers in Vietnam decided to go camping as a cast bonding exercise. Western Maryland in October is a far cry from the jungles of Vietnam but a night of roughing it in the woods appealed to the motley crew.

So we packed up our gear, the beer and drove out to the Green Ridge State Forest. It was a fun trip. We bottomed out 1 of the 2 cars on a back country road before even reaching our camp ground. Then we spent hours in the woods telling tales, playing games, and drinking beer. After an excessive amount of beer was imbibed we all crawled off into the tent and curled up in our sleeping bags.

It was not a good night for me. I couldn't get comfortable sleeping on the tent's floor. I couldn't get warm in the borrowed sleeping bag I used. My tent mates were also snorers in a big way. I tossed and turned and shivered all night. Around 6 AM still awake with a swollen bladder and a pounding headache I stumbled from the tent, relieved myself on the side of a tree and climbed into the front seat of my car to sleep in relative peace and comfort.

We woke, stoked up the fire, cooked breakfast (I made scotch eggs) and cleaned up our area. It was clear that some of us were ready to hit the road pretty early. Others wanted to linger on a bit longer and enjoy the brisk morning. I just wanted to sit next to the fire and nurse my hangover but the coffee all boiled away!

So we packed up the cars. Barely made it back to Annapolis in 1 piece; the 1 car still suffering from the bit of off-roading. I bid adieu to my cast mates, came home and slept under 3 blankets! I couldn't even hear myself snore.

Kinda Creepy

The email claimed to be from my Aunt. Apparently, unbeknownst to us, she had gone to the Philippines on business. While there a bus she was traveling on had suffered a mechanical failure and crashed into a produce supply truck. She was lucky to escape from the inferno with only second degree burns, but had lost her passport and cell phone in the fire. My Aunt's email then went on to ask for assistance with her two thousand dollar medical bills that resulted from her ordeal.

I was immediately suspicious of the email. First of all, who would come to me for financial assistance? Anyone who is acquainted with me would know that they were barking up the wrong tree if they were coming to me for a loan. Also, my Aunt does travel but going to the Philippines on 'business' didn't seem feasible because she's self employed. Then there's the fact that the email didn't list any contact info. It just asked for a 'Immediate Response Needed'.

So I called my Aunt and left a voice mail, explaining the situation, and then called my Father to see if he'd heard anything. I was convinced it was a hoax, spam, whatever but I needed to be sure.

It was a hoax. Someone had hacked into my Aunt's email - never give your email to anyone. She fixed everything with her email server, and sent out an apologetic email to everyone who was concerned. She joked about being worth more than the two thousand dollars the bogus email was asking for. I was relieved.

Then my Mom's ring tone sounds on my cell phone. 'M! O! M! Mom! M! O! M! Mom!' It was my father returning my call from his home phone. I haven't changed my ring tone for their home number, or her cell phone which my dad sometimes uses since her passing. I leave my cell phone on vibrate most of the time and this is the first time I've heard her ring tone since she died in July. It was the perfect kinda creepy ending to the whole weird ordeal.

Annoyed!

I'm working part time, but still looking for something else - hopefully something full time or at least with benefits maybe. I've applied for several jobs but nothing seems to be panning out for me. I've even followed up on a few applications; trying to take some initiative. One particular job I've called 3 times and the manager was always in a 'meeting'. I emailed and got no response. I stopped in... manager was in a meeting. I called again and talked to a manager x who told me to call back after 5 and ask for manager y who couldn't even be bothered to take my call. The hostess after leaving me on hold finally informed me, 'He said to say the positions have been filled.'

Now I understand it's nothing personal. Business is business, after all, but when I've given my name, been told I'd receive a call, not received the call and can't even talk with the hiring manager I begin to feel frustrated. I can't help but feel that had I gotten a chance to meet with someone I would've had a better chance of getting hired.

Oh well, back to the drawing board.

Maybe I'm Just Lazy

The conversation went something like this!

"How was the triathlon?"

"It was good. It was hard. The guy that won beat me by 12 hours."

"12 hours?! How long was the event?"

"I finished in 31 hours."

"!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"

At this point I almost laughed in my buddy's face. He competed for 31 hours in a triathlon. At 1 point during the race he was falling asleep while running so they forced him to take a nap so he wouldn't hurt himself. Swam for 5 miles, biked for 224 miles and ran for 52 all within 31 hours.

Now that sounds fun! (This last comment should be read with an overabundance of sarcasm!)

The Results Are In...

'A Much Needed Change', a short film that I wrote, and my friend Dean directed won the runner up award at the CAmm Slamm 2009 48 Hour Film Festival here in Baltimore. 48 hours is not a lot of time to work on a film and the submitted projects usually all would benefit from some further polishing but it's a fun, whirlwind of a ride. This was the 3rd time Running Storm Productions took part in the 48 Hour Film festival, and the first time we placed.

This time around Dean allowed me to write the script, and I came up with a screenplay about a small argument between a married couple that spirals out of control. There's more to it then that but I don't want to spoil any surprises on the off chance that you, the reader, may one day become a viewer.

Some highlights from the shoot include 2 hours of turkey meatloaf take after take after take, and running a half block of the Baltimore Marathon. I am very proud of this project and it's 2nd place finish. I am happy to have been able to see my script come together for the screening. Hopefully, this one may see some more festival time in the future.
*Cast & Crew of 'A Much Needed Change' at CAmm Slamm 2009.

Somethings Just Don't Change

Up early in the morning to work on a few things before heading off to the job. Sara turns on the TV as I'm cooking breakfast and Maury is on! (If you look back at this blog, all the way back to the first few months definitely in the first year or so you see several posts concerning Mr. Maury Povich!) It's good to know that if I'm home during the day I can still turn on the boob tube and Maury's still doing the 'I'm Not The Babies' Daddy' routine. Even more comforting is the fact that people are still willing to embarrass themselves on national television for a shot at fame! People are still so hungry for their 15 minutes that they'll showcase their ignorance, lack of social skills & home training, parade out onto that stage, flip the audience the bird and say something like, 'Y'all don't know me! You can't be judging me! I'm not no slut!'
It warms my heart.

I Was Never In The Shit!

The challenge is for the cast to be soldiers but not only soldiers - soldiers during a wartime offensive. It's intense!
Raised in a military family I never longed for the lifestyle of a soldier. I probably made fun of the NJROTC Cadets in high school. The closest I've ever come to combat was the time my friends and I got jumped coming out of a Wicker Park bar one night.
That's the magic of the theatre though, I suppose. When the performances for 'Tracers' start the audience has to believe that the men they see before them are soldiers fighting in Vietnam.

A Tale Of 2 Services!

I always remember there being 2 separate services at the church. The early service was always referred to back then - and may still be now - as the 'Folk' service. It was very bohemian; lots of tambourines, clapping and a younger crowd. The late service was called just that and was much more of a solemn, traditional worship with hymns, and the older congregants. My mother used to threaten us with the late service when we were kids. "If you don't get up now we'll miss the 'Folk' service! Then we'll have to go to the late service!" We'd fly out of bed and into our Sunday's Best!
It was just one of those things I remember about the church. 'Folk' service = my friends, upbeat music, and getting out earlier. Late service = old people, hymns, and pipe organ!
Today Sara and I attended the late service because directly after the service a ceremony was to be held in the memorial garden behind the church. There is a brick walkway that is adorned with the names of people who have passed away. Every year there is a dedication ceremony and my mother was among those honored at today's ceremony.
The sun came out, people gathered in the garden and a bell was rung after each name was read aloud. It was tough to be back in that church where I grew up, and later my mother became a valuable part of that 'family'. I haven't been back to the church since her memorial service and many familiar faces greeted us during the service. One woman even said to me, "I miss her everyday." It was a very sweet sentiment but part of me wanted to spitefully respond, "Wow, imagine what we must be feeling." Instead I smiled, thanked the woman, and appreciated the beautiful afternoon that the day had become.
* I almost forgot. As Sara and I were driving to church we stopped at a red light. We were talking about Mom and the church when suddenly a new song came on the radio. The first line was, "Well, I got a gal named Sue..." The 2 of us laughed as Ritchie Valens sang 'That's My Little Suzie' all the way to church.

Mr. Marmalade Closing Night!

Last night we had the biggest, and most receptive audience yet. Everyone was very complimentary,and then there's the Baltimore Sun Review! Unfortunately the good word of mouth won't have enough time to germinate into sell out crowds. Tonight is closing night; the two week run has come to an end.

'Well, I'm Off To Work.'

It's been a few weeks since I've been able to say that! I am starting a part time retail job today. It's not exactly what I was hoping for but they are the first ones to bite at my lure. They've also made it clear that if I were to find something full time, part time, or better paying that they would be willing to work out a schedule with me.

Years ago - check out the beginnings of this blog - I worked for a cooking school. I handled shipping/receiving, assisted with classes and sold kitchenware. I will once again be working in retail, selling cooking and kitchenware for Sur La Table. It's a company I know, name brands I remember and, hopefully, flexible enough to allow for another gig. In the meantime I will keep applying for other jobs.

I miss Ivymount. I miss the students - my kids. I miss SOME of the staff. I miss the security of having a well-paying and rewarding job. I don't miss the commute!

Busy Sunday.

Sara and I got up and met the family for the annual NBOCC Cancer Walk in Quiet Waters Park. I walked the majority of the 3k, I'd say, with my niece on my shoulders. I'm glad I had Savannah to keep me occupied. This was a hard walk to do without Mom. For the past few years we would all get there too early because Mom always had the start time wrong. Whomever was able to do the walk participated and the others would wait by the finish line. Then we would all go out to breakfast.

This year everyone did the walk. My father walked somewhere in the middle, his foot was bothering him, while Reb, the kids and I ventured ahead, and Sara and Robin brought up the rear. After the walk we met for breakfast, and then got together for Bennett's Birthday celebration. 'Scooby Doo' Cotton Candy Ice Cream Cake! It sounds odd but was quite good.

Then I had to run to my matinee performance, which went over well with the small audience. I came home, watched several hours of football, ate a pie that Sara baked, and obsessed about my fantasy stats.

Mr. Marmalade Opening Night!

I got punched in the head onstage! A scene came screeching to a halt when someone forgot their line -not me- and then choked on a popcorn kernel! Other than that I think that opening night went pretty well.

The show doesn't come across, apparently, as offensive as it first appears on paper. The audience didn't seem to be overwhelmed with the adult content, dark humor, or even the dreaded 'C' word! Hopefully the word of mouth will be good and we can get some more butts in the seats.

Has It Been 2 Months Already?

I guess it has.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss her, think about her or feel the absence her passing has left in my life. Something will happen, usually family related, and I'll think, "Mom, would think this is funny. Mom would agree with me." I wish I could hit #4 on my speed dial and tell her all about it. The job search is a slow process and I am used to her supportive words whenever I would get discouraged. I miss having her here to bolster me up when I need it.

I sometimes think about that last day in the hospital. That tiny little room, in that ICU ward with the loud nurses, beeping machines and Van Gogh's 'Starry Night' on the wall. I stood with my father, 2 brothers, and Aunt surrounding the hospital bed. I held her hand as she slipped away. For that I will be forever grateful. I was by her side, I kissed her goodbye and watched her breath her last breath.

It seems incredible that she's been gone for only 2 months but at the same time I can't believe that 2 months have passed.

A Family Divided!

It may come to pass...
Family events, gatherings and reunions will become awkward and tense. Seating charts will have to be created. Sides will be chosen! Some will agree. Some won't. Utterances of 'so unfair' and 'check your email' will barely be heard around the Scrabble set. Dirty looks will be volleyed across holiday meals. Other trifling offenses will be blown out of proportion; caught up and mutated in the violent feud that started with a simple misunderstanding. A game of make believe will have shattered the peaceful co-existence of certain sports fans!
One thing is certain. The world of Fantasy Football may never recover!

Aaaaarrrrrgggghhhhh!

I wish I had paid more attention in Math class.
I wish I had a better understanding of financial matters!
I wish we hadn't inadvertently paid over a grand towards our 2009 Estimated Taxes when we thought we were paying off our current tax debt!
I wish my wife hadn't spent over an hour and 1/2 on the phone with the IRS today straightening out the whole mess.
I wish I never heard of, needed, or thought to use TurboTax!

And Life Goes On.

I'm in rehearsals for Standing O Productions' Mr. Marmalade; a disturbing play about a young girl and her imaginary friend. I just got cast, officially, in their next production as well, Tracers, in which I play a drill sergeant and a hippie medic. The same actor doubles in the roles which is why I wanted to do it, it'll be a challenging show.
The job search goes on. I have applied for several jobs online, and a few in the area. I am officially unemployed now and anxious to see what will happen next. I could end up in a school, telecommuting from home, bartending again, or selling cookware locally. I'm not sure if teaching is what I want to do for the rest of my life?
(What does that even mean?)
I'm not sure what I want to do with the rest of our time here in Maryland. We still plan on moving back to Chicago, so anything I find now will probably be temporary. In the meantime, we'll live life and do what we can.

W O W!

So let me get this straight. The man sold the majority of the stocks to a competitor and now years later the businesses merge and he's shown the door? He started this company, built it from the ground up with his own blood, sweat and tears and now they hand him a severance check and tell him to hit the road? He screwed so many people over the years, stepped on so many toes, and stabbed so many backs but now it seems he may have gotten his comeuppance?

Too bad for him - BUT it makes me smile. I'm sorry that the man got a raw deal, and has lost the company he fought so hard for but at the same time I personally didn't like him too much. i watched him belittle, and disrespect too many of his employees to actually feel pity for the man.

A Surprise.

Sara and I had made plans to stay in the city Saturday night. We were going to visit an Italian Festival up in Baltimore, meet up with some friends, and go see a band play in Fells Point. We had planned ahead and our very nice friends invited us to crash at their house in the city. So we pack our bags in anticipation of the trip.

Our luggage, it should be mentioned, belonged to my mother and recently were given to us by my father. They're Vera Bradley! Apparently, that's a big deal. They're not to my tastes but they were a gift.

Sara discovers in a pocket of one of the bags a silver chain necklace. It was still in its package. She also found a pair of my mother's bifocal sunglasses. We soon realized that the last time this luggage had been used my parents, and maybe my Aunt & Uncle, visited Mexico for a cruise. The chain was a souvenir my mother had purchased on her last vacation.

My dad chuckled when I told him of the necklace. "Yeah, " he says, "We bought that as a thank you gift for the dog-sitter. Your mother had been looking for that necklace for months. It was driving her crazy." Sara and I laughed, too.

Knowing my mom I can imagine her scrambling through the house, and berating herself for her own forgetfulness, or as she liked to call it her 'chemo brain'. It made me smile to recall one of my mother's funny little habits - of misplacing things. I couldn't help but hearing her laughter in my head as I imagined myself teasing her again for her senility. She would laugh, tell me to leave her alone and then, more than likely, blow a raspberry in my direction.

My Dreams As Of Late

The anxiety from being unemployed at the end of the month, and having no medical insurance seeps into my unconsciousness every now and then.
The last book I read was called Neverwhere and was about a subterranean culture beneath the streets of London and that definitely flavored my dreams for a few nights.
Yesterday while Sara was having her procedure done I started reading Miracle In The Andes: 72 Days on the Mountain and My Long Trek Home. Sure enough last night I dreamt I was in a plane crash in the mountains, luckily, without Ethan Hawke.
The funniest thing about my dreams lately is that my Mom is still so prevalent. Half the time it isn't until I awaken that I realize I was even dreaming about her in the first place. Then I feel disappointed that I didn't pay more attention to her while I was in the dream. Other times I try to focus on her presence in the dreams and then suddenly, my reality interferes and she can only smile at me lovingly, but is unable to speak. I become obsessed with talking to her but she can't and then I realize it's because she's passed away. Then the dream dissolves into something else or my eyes open briefly to stare at my ceiling as I try to hold on to the fading dream.

Wondering

I haven't felt much like writing lately. It happens.

This time's different, however. This time it isn't because nothing exciting has happened - plenty of things have happened this Summer. This time it isn't because I'm feeling ambivalent about life - lately I've been having pretty strong feelings about a variety of topics. It isn't because I haven't had the time - Facebook, and certain porn sites could attest to the amount of time I've spent online lately. This time is different.

When I started this blog I had 2 reasons. 1 was to write a blog, just write when I wanted to write and not worry about where it was going or what it meant. The 2nd reason, as I've stated before, was to communicate with family and friends on a semi-regular basis. I could update my blog and they could check in whenever convenient and read about what I was doing. It worked.

My best friend might comment on a funny observation I had made in my blog. My older brother might ask me about a comment I made in a post. My wife may come home, sign in and read about what her man had been doing all day when he should've been cleaning the house. My mother could and would religiously check up on her middle son and his exploits.

And that's why I haven't been writing, I think. Since my mother passed away I haven't really felt like blogging. I was tempted to write a few thoughts on death, Cancer, her Memorial Service, I even contemplated putting posting my eulogy from that service. I didn't do any of that. Not because I think it's cheesy. Not because I think it would cheapen the memories. No, but maybe because it didn't seem worth it if she couldn't read this anymore. She was my most avid reader. Mom supported most any creative project I could come up with.

When she was in the hospital this last time - before it got ugly, before the ICU - I went in to visit her 1 day. She'd been in for a couple days, the doctors were trying to find a way to help her with her breathing, and she was getting a little cabin fever. I brought her a copy of a short story that I had written for a contest recently. It wasn't anything special. I hadn't written it specifically to cheer her up, or to send a message to her or anything. She would often read my writings. Some she liked. Some she didn't like as much. Some she loved, and some she may have not gotten at all. If I handed her a stack of papers she would make time to read them. I don't know if she ever got a chance to read my last story. She went into ICU sometime the following night. She may not have had time, been able to focus, or even cared to read a silly story while laying in that bed. I'm sure she had other pressing matters, but part of me would like to believe that she had a chance to flip through the pages, that she read through the story and may have even chuckled at the ending. I'll never know if she read that story.

She'll never read any of my writings again, and that makes me sad beyond words. That is why I haven't been writing. My Mom would want me to continue. She would want me to keep updating my family, keep posting on my blog, and keep up with all of my creative projects. She would want me to write. So I will.

Everywhere I Turn Something Reminds Me.

Here are a few examples:

I open my car door, we were moving flower arrangements for the Memorial Service, and one of my Mom's old chemo hats falls out of the car. It had been in my car door for years and I kept forgetting to get it back to her.

I turn on the TV and Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson comes back to his hometown to fight some bad guys. His family greets him and he gives his mother a hug.

I'm playing Apples to Apples with my afternoon group and I draw another red card. It Reads: My Mom!

In Case You Were Wondering.

The loudest place in the entire Universe would have to be the ICU Ward when you are hoping that your loved one will sleep through the pain.

Another Show - Another Closing

WONDER OF THE WORLD has come and gone the way of the Dodo. It was quite an experience, and an amazing cast... more or less. I made several new friends and learned a lot about myself as an artist and as an impatient man. I will cherish this experience always.

Fun In The Sun

The kids came over to day to play on the beach.
We splashed around the Severn, built sandcastles and watched a groundhog swim to safety. It was a fun day.

The King Is Dead! Long Live The King!

I haven't been a fan in years but I am saddened by the untimely death of Michael Jackson. He was a huge part of my childhood. I listened to Jackson 5 tapes on long Amtrak rides to Florida for Spring Break. I watched Thriller over and over an over again. My cousin just reminded me of the time I would dress like MJ. Even when he got weird I was rooting for him to come through all of the drama.

Now he's dead and despite my irreverent humor and tasteless jokes in the days to come I will miss his presence in the world. He was magic.

*"Oh look, a butthole convention!"

(*1 of my favorite lines from the script)This pic ran in this weekend's Baltimore Sun newspaper along with a favorable review of our efforts in the show! 'Wonder of the World' plays for 1 more weekend at Colonial Players of Annapolis. It's a fun time.

Apparently There's No Sparks Between Me & My Wife!

Or at least that's what a Critic recently said about my performance on opening night of Wonder of the World! (I won't even go into my feelings on low-level theatre critics... maybe some other time.)

No Sparks!? None!? Wow, that's weird cause in the 1st scene she's so disgusted with me that she can barely even stand to look me in the eyes as she packs to leave our marriage! Our next scene together she's already sexing up some tour boat captain and written me out of her life! Even when she agrees to see a therapist in our 3rd scene she's only doing it to shut me up; there's no chance she'll take me back!

So how odd is it that there's no spark between us? Wow, it's almost as if we're not the romantic couple in the play! It's almost as if our marriage has fallen apart and my wife is trying to figure out how to rid me from her life! Wow!

Tonight, come hell or high water, I will make sparks between me and the the actress who plays my wife that doesn't want to be married to me anymore because of my deep dark secret! So thank you for your expert opinion of our show, nameless low-level theatre critic, sorry you seemed to have slept through at least half of it! Come back and watch the rest of the play and then write a review about how certain characters don't even seem to be Russian!

Wonder Of The World! Opening Night!

I've made a decision that I'm going to try and remain positive these days, and so I will not go into detail about the rehearsal process, personality conflicts, and various other frustrations involved with this show. I will say that we open tonight and that, as always, I love the script, the cast is extremely talented and I think if we can all click together we have a funny show on our hands. (The audience that attended the dress rehearsal last night seemed to enjoy it.)
So here we go with another opening night, may we all break a leg!

Am I Too Impatient?

Sometimes I think I may be... then I realize that it isn't me. It's all of the idiots, and inconsiderate people that get in my way, and waste my time!

(I write this at the library after I waited 5 minutes for an old man, whom sat down at the PC I had just reserved, to sift through his wallet looking for his card, and give my chair the old man stink before relizing that he wouldn't have been able to log in anyway because the PC was reserved.)

Cue to Cue

Today was a long day. Cue to cue tech rehearsals usually are...

On my way to the theatre - State Building in the background. (Before)

Killing time in the dressing room - notice the smile is gone. (After)


Actually this rehearsal could've gone worse and I even got out early. Now if everybody would learn their lines we'd be in good shape for our opening on Friday!

Closing Night

We just closed Counting The Ways... actually, we had our last performance several hours ago but then went out for a celebratory drink. It was whirlwind experience. We had about as many rehearsals as we did performances: 4. I met some really cool people, got to act out a few scenes onstage with my talented wife, and even got a brand new awesome monologue for future auditions. Now if only I could get that damn Bette Midler song out of my head!

Counting The Ways Opening Night!

The lights fade. The lights come up. I enter carrying a newspaper. Something catches my eye and I call for my wife. Sara enters the stage and sits down opposite of me at the table. Two more lines are exchanged and the power goes out.

Darkness. Silence.

The monsoon ranging outside momentarily caused a power outage while Sara and I are onstage doing our first scene together ever. Luckily the auxiliary lights came on and within seconds the power was restored to the building. We picked up the scene exactly where we had left off and the audience seemed to appreciate our poise.

After the show several people commented on the power failure but we blew it off, continued to mingle and sip cocktails with a slowly dwindling crowd.

The Short Version

So I'm not sure what time period it was supposed to be but the ramshackle dwelling was filled with a small family wearing dirty nightshirts, rags, and such. There was a general sense of unrest. Sara figures out the code. Letters and numbers she deciphers! We'll be able to contact the rebels. The code says, 'Wipe Your Windows'. The windows are caked with filth. So we grab what ever cloth is handy and wipe the glass clean. (For some reason there is a translucent image of Al Capone on the aged pane.)

A knock at the door!

I rush everyone else out of sight and open the door. Several young men stand there with rifles. They want to examine the dwelling. I ask for identification. They seem disappointed and start to leave. Sara comes out of hiding and invites them in. The men look around. I believe they were expecting a trap. We are invited to join the revolution but must pick up immediately and leave our lives behind; one by one fleeing into the night with only a few essentials.

The decision has already been made. I start to look around what is now my childhood home - hoping to find something important. I can't leave without evidence of who I am. Pictures, mementos, or even brick-a-brack. There's a slow sense of panic creeping over me.

Two of my students, twin girls, are also in the house. They are altered from reality... normal. They are telling a guerilla film crew -where did they come from?- that they are not afraid. We are all tired of living an oppressed existence, and they hope one day that their children will be able to hold their heads up high as they remember the struggle that others went through for freedom.

The door is opened and the moon beats down on a barren landscape as shadows scramble towards a new life. It's my turn. I need to escape.

!!!!!! THE ALARM RINGS!!!!!!! I drift awake.

I don't have to like every student.

FADE IN:

INT. Classroom -- Afternoon

STUDENT sits alone at a desk guardedly writing in his 'journal'. Other students interact with each other, play UNO, and are busy with the business of being young men and women. Not this STUDENT. He's special...

He THINKS he's special. He THINKS he thinks special thoughts.

A SUBSTITUTE TEACHER stares absentmindedly out the window. The SUB sighs and turns back in towards the classroom. The day is winding down. He contemplates the STUDENT alone at his desk for a moment then inquires...

SUB: What do you write in that journal of yours?

SPECIAL STUDENT: What? (Then with annoyance.) Why?

SUB: Just curious.

SPECIAL STUDENT: (Bitterly) What do you think?

SUB: (Casually) I was just wondering if you might possibly be writing a book on manners! (Cough, Cough) Prick.

SUB goes back to contemplating life outside the window. STUDENT pauses in his writing. He is unsure if this is what he wanted to happen. Maybe he should've let the curious adult read his musings. No one understands him because he's so special.

Fade Out:

I Was Surprised...

...His first answer to the 'Top 5 Famous People You Would Like To Be' was:

Ritchie Valens!

The rest of the group was clueless. The 10 year old says, "He was a famous Rock n Roll Star and he was awesome."

I turned to him and said, "Ritchie Valens? You know he was only 17 years old when he died?"

He replied, "Wow, that's young."

"Looks like you better make the most of your next 7 years, my friend."

I Was In A Rush!

I was running errands. I needed to hurry, pick up dinner, and get home to walk the dog before heading out to rehearsal. I saw the whole thing happen.

2 employees of the Chinese restaurant left a case of Coke out in a shopping cart. They must've run over to the grocery store for supplies. They wheeled the cart up to the front door and took in as many cases as they could carry leaving 1 lone cases in the cart.

A thought flashed through my mind; briefly. Maybe I should help carry in the last case. I kept walking as I looked around. The only other people nearby was a teenage son and his mother walking some distance behind me. I didn't stop. I figured the waiter would be right back out for the case.

I opened the door to the another restaurant where I was picking up my to go order and I heard the teenager squeak, 'Take it ma. Take it!' I glanced up and saw the mother and son pausing around the cart. The mom saw me and started walking again.

I went in to get my dinner, and looked back out the storefront. The teenage boy is now walking next to his mother... carrying the case of soda. I shook my head and rolled my eyes as I watched them scurry to their car all the while looking back at the Chinese restaurant to see if they'd get caught. They got into their Subaru and sped off with their boosted caffeine.

I paid for my hot wings and walked out the door. The Chinese waiter was standing at the curb scanning the parking lot with a unbelieving grin on his face. I felt partially responsible but I didn't stop to explain.

A Life Lesson Learned While Walking The Tooter

Sometimes you're just meandering along at your own pace. Minding your own business. When a squirrel scurries by and you're off on a mad dash! You pull and pull against the leash. Suddenly, you get a whiff of something completely different, veer radically off course and almost trip over yourself all in a frantic attempt to sniff around some bushes that someone else pee-peed on!

Not sure how it all works together but it's kinda like life... sometimes...

My Birthday Dinner.

Went out with the family for a belated birthday dinner.
Had a delicious burger, some beer and goofed off with the kids.
It was a fun night. We laughed alot. (Next time I have to remember to get pictures of my big brother and sister, too.)

Did You See The Race At Talladega?

Carl Edwards was lucky to have survived the that last lap!
8 fans in the stand were hit with flying debris but Edwards walked, actually, he did a bit of running away from the crash. It was horrifying and fascinating all at the same time.

Oh, It's True!

I can be a bit negative. At times, I'm pessimistic. I've been known to refer to people as idiots, and don't hold much hope for the future of this country - of this world, for that matter. Humanity doesn't always impress me.

Today it occurred to me that maybe I'm too negative. I was leaving the grocery store as a father and daughter were pushing there cart to their car. They then emptied their cart and continued on foot to their car leaving the cart right behind my rear fender. I couldn't back out of my space. I stopped, shook my head and began muttering under my breath about manners, courtesy, and fiery justice raining from the sky as I pushed the cart to a cart-corral. I then got into my car and started the engine; still muttering.

Suddenly, the little girl comes back and looks around puzzled. She turns to her dad and shouts, 'It's gone. Somebody must've taken it.' She then returned to her father and I thought maybe I had been to quick to judge. Maybe I should've given them the benefit of the dou... oh, look. The dickhead's driving an Escalade! Nice big, unnecessarily wasteful, fuel-consuming, small penis-compensating monstrosity! Jack Ass!

Ugly Woman Sings Like An Angel!

Thanks to American Idol, and all of these other reality television shows we, apparently the world, have come to expect the worse from each other. Men and women acting like idiots, vying for the affections of someone who's career has seen better days. People desperate for a little fame making asses of themselves for the world to see. Ignorant and, even sometimes, mentally disabled people being exploited in an audition process for a fun sound bite, or video on Youtube.

And we sit back and make fun of the idiots. We judge their appearance. We giggle when they go off key, or forget the lyrics. We shake our heads and laugh at their exploits. Haha. But some of us wish to be them, wish for our talent to be discovered. So we'll dress up like a chicken or a pimp on national television and sing, when we've got no business singing, just on the off chance that someone will pay us some attention.

I just watched the Susan Boyle video. I don't get it! What's the big deal? Why is this the new internet sensation? She gave a great performance. Good for her, finally getting a chance to pursue her dream after caring for her parents. She's obviously had training, and seems to have a great voice, so why are we all so surprised? Because she's not pretty? At all?


So what? Where is it written that only attractive people can have talent? Who says that ugly people can't be famous singers?

I Shit You Not

Last night I was watching the news and there was a tragic story about yet another man to kill his kids. Father killed his kids, wife and then himself. These stories always upset me.

They then got a reaction from a neighbor, this lady in a T Shirt, and she seemed genuinely upset about the event. Who wouldn't be? Halfway through the segment my brain reads the neighbor's T Shirt. It read:

I'm Sorry But I Can't Hear You Without A Beer In My Hand!

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

'We've got a quadruple murder/suicide. Let's interview some of the locals; get some reactions. Ooh, get that lady with the funny shirt. She'll add a touch of class and humor to the 11 o'clock news.' (She's towards the end of the video.)

"Well, hello stranger..."

"... haven't seen you in a while," said the old man behind the register.

The old man with 2 bottles of cheap run replied, "Been having hip trouble. Haven't been moving as well lately."

"Saw you moving kinda slow over there," commented the old man behind the register, "but you're still moving"

The old man with 2 bottles of cheap rum bragged, "Yup, at least I can still walk. How have you been?"

The old man behind the register rung up the order and said, "Lost my wife last month. So I've been having a rough time of it."

"I can't imagine. I'm sorry for your loss," offered the old man with 2 bottles of cheap rum, as he handed over his cash.

"Yeah," the old man behind the register took the payment, "she'd been sick for a few years so I half expected it..."

The conversation continued but as I stood there in line with a cheap 6 pack in my arms bemoaning my horrible spring break, and impending tax debt I was moved by the conversation before me. Hearing the first man speak of losing his wife, and the other man claiming that he would be lost without his wife I realized that it can always be worse.

So my spring break was bad? So I owe money to the IRS? So what? At least I have a loving wife and family, a neurotic dog, new siding on the apartment, a job that I don't hate yet, and a couple cans of cheap beer. The sun is shining.

Not Exact Quotes

On the way to the *hospital Mom said, "I may have let it slip about your April Fools Joke."

"Whaddya mean?"

She continued, "To your brother... I may have accidentally let it slip."

"Why? What did you say?"

"I asked him if he'd figured out your joke yet," Ma explained. "He said you hadn't played a joke on anyone. I said you had, it was him and that they weren't vacationing in a dry county. So I may have let it slip."

"Ma! That's not a slip. That's blowing the punchline. That's giving the joke away."

"Well... then that's what I did, I guess."

(*We were on the way to the hospital for an unexpected return trip to help deal with my mother's nagging pneumonia, and figure out what's going on. She's had to put off chemo to deal with the shortness of breath, and constant dry **cough.)

(**The cough is only amusing when you get her to laugh and the cough kicks in but that's only funny for a few rounds.)

The Fido Test!

So I've been reading the first Sherlock Holmes adventure: A Study In Scarlet. At one point Holmes, to test an unknown pill - a suspected poison - feeds half of the pill in question to an old, ailing terrier belonging to the landlady at 221B Baker Street. The dog dies. He fed the dog poison... intentionally. Sherlock Holmes is then certain of the pill's poisonous properties and moves on to solve the case. The dog was described as sick, and, apparently, the landlady was hoping to put it out of its misery but still, I am disturbed by this development in the story. Maybe it was a common practice of the day. Maybe they viewed it as a humane ending to the dog's life. I don't know. All I know is that Sherlock Holmes poisons puppies!

April Fools A Few Days Later

The phone rang as I was wrestling with my morning commute. It was the brother. He was disappointed. He had checked my blog in the morning expecting to see an April Fools prank in the works. (I often times try to honor the occasion with a joke or two.) This year I woke up almost an hour late for school, flew through a shower, and tore out of my neighborhood. No time for a prank.

He was disappointed. The conversation eventually turned to other topics. His kids and their germs. Work. Traffic. Spring Break. My brother and his family are heading out of town to a time share somewhere in VA. A week away. Good for them. Too bad for my brother that their vacationing in a dry county. They'll have to pack a cooler full of beer and hope it last the week. Or drive to the next county to restock their fridge.

'What? Mom didn't tell me that! Man, that sucks.'

You know what really sucks? Calling me to complain that I've dropped the ball and neglected my trickster duties, and then falling for a my 'dry county' joke. (The same conversation! In the same conversation I fooled your gullible ass into believing that you'll be stuck in a dry county for a week.) Hook, Line & Sinker!

So I left the punchline hanging in the air. I never told him I was kidding. My mother laughed. My sister-in-law called me to ask if I was ever going to let him in on the joke. We both agree, it's funnier if I just let it go until he reads about it here after returning from vacation in that 'dry county'. Granted... not the most intricate of deceptions but if you know my brother this one will hit him where it hurts!

I'm sure he'll say he saw through the ruse, never really believed it. The fact that he mentioned it to his wife later proves otherwise, and I'm sure his liquor store receipts would sing another tune.

Ah Nature

Yesterday I left the house on a dreary, rainy morning as I headed over to my brother's house. I was going to babysit for a little while before taking my nephew to see a movie.

As I came creeping around a bend in the road in my neighborhood I see what appears to be a huge blackbird frantically flapping its wings and flopping around the wet roadway. I slowed the car to a crawl assessing the situation when suddenly the bird flips over and I see a second head, and another set of wings. What I originally took for a wounded blackbird, was actually two blackbirds locked in battle that had fallen to the street below. The birds flapped their wings viciously, scratched with their talons, and pecked with their beaks trying to wound each other. By this time I had stopped my car and was watching for several seconds before finally, having had enough, I honked my horn.

I had places to be, and people to see I couldn't be held up by a pair of sparring blackbirds.

The two birds, startled by the horn, lept to their feet and started to fly away still swiping at each other and darting back and forth as they disappeared into the trees. I put the car into gear and started off again with a thought, 'Maybe they were mating.'

Another Audition.

This past weekend Sara and I auditioned and were both called back for Colonial Players of Annapolis' final production o the season: Wonder Of The World. Sara gave an amazing audition and barely missed out on being cast as the female lead. I was very proud of my wife and her audition. - It was fun being the talented 'couple' at the audition. - I was cast in the show and will be seen on the Colonial Player's stage this June as Kip Harris; a straight-edged, loving husband with a full sweater drawer, and a dark secret. It is a disturbingly funny show and I'm predicting that my parents won't love it but they'll still laugh in spite of their age. (hehe)

WTF?

I asked myself, 'What's wrong with this picture?' I stood, with my wife, riding down the escalators at Target. Ahead of us, on the escalators, was a herd of Amish women, and in the middle of the herd was an Amish midget!

So many questions raced through my mind...

Are the Amish allowed to ride escalators? Do all Amish women travel in herds and wear Sketchers? How rare is an Amish midget? How much is that rarity increased when you place that Amish midget inside of a Target? Do the Amish prefer Target to Walmart? Does that Amish midget have a mini-buggy pulled by a mini-pony?

These are the questions that occupy my mind...

St. Patrick's Day

Happy St. Paddy's! Hoping to get a Guinness in before bedtime, maybe even a green beer or 2.

'Bears ain't fussy, it's true."

Recently finished this book. I enjoyed it. The premise is that a bear, the protagonist, finds a manuscript beneath a tree and decides he is going to claim it as his own and heads off to the big city to get a book deal. He dresses the part, stealing some clothes, meets with agents and editors, and tries to fit into our society. Worth the time if you're looking for a fun read.

End Of An Era

The historic Senator Theater is closing after 70 years. Even though I've only been inside to see the CAMM SLAMM film festival, I remember the theater fondly from my college days. So sad...

The Case of The Coffee Surprise

Our hero sits at his computer, working on a story. Next to him a steaming coffee cup sits precariously close to the edge of the cluttered desk. He intently reviews what he has written so far, as he absentmindedly sips his cup of joe.

The orange coffee mug is replaced; still dangerously near the brink. Our hero returns to typing. He is in the zone. The story almost writes itself.

The coffee mug is raised to his lips again and he tips his head back to drain the dregs of the cup. Maybe he should reheat another mugful. The desk chair scoots back on the blue carpet and our hero gets to his feet. Break time...

What's this? In the bottom of the mug?

Our hero looks deep into the mug and there on the ceramic bottom lies half of a piece of farfalle. The bow tie pasta has absorbed some of the coffee and shows a dark molasses tinge to its surface. Somehow the pasta must have found its way into his cup between the coffee machine, the microwave and the desk.

But how? How did that get in there?

The mystery may never be solved.

***PS. Later the mystery is solved when the wife returns home.***

The mug in question, which I left sitting next to my computer yesterday morning after emptying it, was actually used by my wife as a trash bin when she dropped a farfalle on the rug yesterday at lunch.

Now I know what you're thinking. What, you used a dirty mug? It was early. I was tired, and the mug was sitting where I left it so I wrongly assumed that it was fine to drink coffee from - I drank coffee from it only yesterday morning.

Lesson learned. I will always get a new mug each morning from now on. I will always check the bottom of my cups, glasses, and mugs for discarded pieces of pasta. Life goes on.

Things That Go Bump In The Night

Recently, I listened to 'The Shining' on audio book. Currently, I'm listening to 'Salem's Lot', also by Stephen King, and reading David Morrell's 'Creepers'. Last night I awoke and suddenly had the urge to check all of the doors in our apartment. I got up, shuffled through the dark rooms and was undeniably spooked. I felt like a little child peeking into their open closet and expecting to find the BogeyMan! Next book I read will have to contain a few laughs.

What Am I Watching?

It was close to 2 in the morning. I was sitting on the couch, finishing a beer, and contemplating sleep. I was randomly flipping between stations when I came across Nitro Circus on MTV. (It's, apparently, the new 'Jack Ass'.) Johnny Knoxville is a producer and the cast members do crazy stunts on dirt bikes, motorcycles, cars, etc. Trained professionals... supposedly.
Anyway they were starting a new segment. One of the main guys is from Annapolis and they were visiting his family. The particular segment featured the adrenaline-fueled cast in a downhill Big Wheel Race. As the race commenced and more people ended up skidding off the track or falling from their 'vehicles' I noticed familiar landmarks and remembered a day, several months ago, when the front street of our neighborhood was blocked off for filming. Could it be? Yes, it could. This TV show featuring these grown adults rocketing down a closed downhill road course on Big Wheels just so happens to have been filmed in my neighborhood!
It was a highly entertaining piece of television. Tumbling bodies, skidding Big Wheels, and road rash all in the friendly borders of Epping Forest!

... And The Award Goes To...

So last night, Sunday March 1st the annual W.A.T.C.H Awards were held in Alexandria, VA. We did not brave the weather to take part in the festivities even though, I've mentioned before that, 'Hauptmann' the play I did last Spring was nominated. Well, it's official. 'Hauptmann' Is An Award-Winning Show!

Best Lead Actor.
Best Featured Actor.
Best Direction.
Outstanding Play of the Year!

That last one is pretty impressive. Granted that my individual work was not recognized - I didn't expect it to be, it wasn't that type of role - but the show itself won for Outstanding Play of the year! I was a part of that. I was a member of the cast and our work was acknowledged as the best play(not a musical)of the year. That makes me happy.

He Was No Saint!

But he will be soon!

I recently read the book 'Damien The Leper'. The life that this kid from Belgium group up to lead was amazing to me. Father Damien dedicated his life to God (Good For Him, I guess), weaseled his way into a parish in Hawaii after his brother - also a Father - took ill and couldn't fulfill his commission. Then the man volunteered to minister to the Lepers at Molokai even though he suspected it would mean the end of his life. He had a notoriously quick temper, for a man of the cloth, and stepped on a few toes along his path. He was a thorn in the side of the Hawaiian government; constantly petitioning for more supplies, better accommodations and never quit striving to ease the suffering of his congregants. And now apparently enough miracles have happened in his name that he will be recognized as a Saint 120 years after his death from leprosy.

I Don't Get It

Doing what I'm supposed to be - I think - went under the knife and got a clean bill, so why oh why is the pain back? No more phantoms but a familiar unwelcome gnawing that catches me off guard and keeps me second guessing.

Best Speech of the Night.

We watched the Oscars last night. Agreed with most of the big awards, and thought the opening number was brilliant. I particularly loved the above speech for its simplicity, and humble humor.

Healthy Appetites.

I was raised to clean my plate. When I was a child if someone served you a plate of food you ate it. Unlike my cousins, who were picky eaters, the Cobb boys would eat almost anything. We didn't shy away from many foods, we loved veggies, and always politely ate what we were served.

I like to think that I'm an adventurous eater. But I do know that there are certain foods I don't appreciate. Innards, for instance, are not my cup of tea. I tried chitterlings once and had to drown them in vinegar and hot sauce just to get the taste of pig ass out of my mouth. The other night we went out to a japanese steakhouse with the family for Sara's birthday, and my dad, brother and sister-in-law all got a chicken liver appetizer. Sara and I decided to be open-minded and try the livers. Never again. The consistency was overwhelming. I can only compare it to what I imagine biting into a turd feels like. I almost couldn't choke the liver down.

My point? I enjoy the Travel Channel a great deal. I have seen some crazy dishes scarfed down in the name of entertainment, and thought to myself, "I would blow chunks if I had to eat that."

Last week I saw Mark & Olly eat monkey paws. They were trying to prove their worth to the Machiguenga Tribe and couldn't refuse the offering. At one point they said that you couldn't quite shake the feeling that you were eating a child's hand.

I can't even go into Andrew Zimmern and all of the various foul pieces of entrails, reproductive organs and putrid foods he samples. I hope that man carries a bottle of Listerine with him everywhere he goes because I can't imagine his breath smells too pleasant.

I just watched Anthony Bourdain eat a goat head soup in the Phillipines. He peeled the skin off of the skull and ate it, popped an eyeball into his mouth, and then rooted around for the tongue. I was sitting there enjoying a cup of coffee as the man mangled the goat's skull, and I have to tell you I was enthralled - hungry, no - enthralled, yes!

PS. I also HATE rutabaga!

'Huh?'

"'Huh'? What do you mean, 'Huh'? Ya got two knuckles buried up that crusty, slimy nose of yours. Don't pick your nose when you're dancing. Now go get a tissue."

"Why?"

(The tissue is often quickly used to wipe the edge of the nose then discarded into the trash can. The sleeve is then used as a tissue. The fingers that were just up the nostrils find their way into the mouth, and the kids look at me funny when I ask them to wash their hands.)

Good News/Bad News

The good news is that I had a wonderful Valentine's Day dinner last night with Sara. I grilled some T-Bones, steamed some Crab Legs, and opened a nice bottle of wine. We sat before the fire watching 'Once' and nibbling on chocolate bars from Vosges. We had the Mo's Bacon Bar and our favorite the Red Fire Exotic Candy Bar. Both were delicious.

The bad news is that I received my rejection letter from the Maryland State Arts Council. I did not get the writing grant I applied for this year. That's disappointing.

No F Bombs!

Today I lost my temper. My last class of the day was out of control. They were being introduced to my new co-worker whom was really excited to meet them, and is genuinely a nice lady. These kids, while not general ed, are my more advanced students and highly capable of making a good first impression.

They did not... so I dropped the hammer! I raised my voice and tried to shame the guilty parties into submission. I felt bad for those other students who were completely well-behaved and appropriate but I couldn't take anymore of the rowdiness and disrespect.

I'm just glad I kept a lid on the profanities that kept bubbling to the surface begging to be unleashed. I have rarely felt like more of an adult than I did today as I said, (shudder, shudder) 'Act Your Age!'

Are You Kidding Me?

8 people have been arrested in connection with the Michael Phelps pot scandal? Really? Months after the fact they've arrested people for drug possession and are planning on going after the Olympic athlete? The Sheriff's got a hard on for Phelps and is determined to make an example out of him.

The man smoked some weed. So what? Aren't there real crimes being committed in South Carolina? If you look at the Richland County website you can follow the links for missing persons, unsolved homocides, sexual offenders, and the Most Wanted List. I checked - Micheal Phelps is not on it.

The world doesn't hate Americans cause of George W. They hate us cause we're all idiots! (Some us just happen to be bigger idiots than others!)

When The Folks Are Away

The folks are in Mexico and we thought it might be fun to house sit sans yard work. So we got a little Keg - we always name our little kegs Leroy (it's tradition) - some wine, the house keys and headed down to North Beach for the weekend. We cuddled in front of the fireplace, and kicked back with Tootsie, Trixie and the TIVO. We spent time just hanging out at the house, soaking in the hot tub, walking the dogs, and just unwinding.

Today ended up being a beautiful day so we walked down to the boardwalk and enjoyed the warm weather. It ended up being a very relaxing weekend.

More Disturbing News From The Future

I'm now listening to Isac Asimov's The Naked Sun on audio book. The grumbling, pipe-smoking protagonist is back with his robotic partner working on yet another murder case, this time on a distant world wholly dependent on their robot servants. Oh, and he's still saying Jehoshaphat!

Apparently, in the future, it is not uncommon to condescend to robots by referring to them with the insulting term 'boy'. As in, 'Boy, get me some water,' or 'What is it, boy?' or even 'Listen to me, boy.'

That smacks of racism, doesn't it? The book takes place in the far future but I am amazed how much the future seems to mirror a plantation frrm pre-civil war days only this time the robots are the slaves.

Maybe the author meant to draw that comparison. Maybe it was intentional. Or maybe in addition to be an eccentric claustrophile, and Aviatophobic, Asimov was also racist and I just hadn't heard about it.

I guess, when you think about it, that doesn't really qualify as racism. Prejudice against robots isn't really based on skin color. It's probably more technophobia.

(I'm still fascinated by phobias. www.phobialist.com)

Who's a bigger dickhead? - Mix N Match!

-Match the 3 incidences below with my response to the situation. It's too much fun -

1) Someone recently recorded Patti Lupone screaming at a theatre patron during a performance of Gypsy. Apparently, the patron felt like they were entitled to snap pictures of the live performance and she stopped her song to berate them in front of the audience. She kept shrieking, '...Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are?'...

2) Someone also recorded Christian Bale throwing a hissy fit on the set of the new Terminator movie. Word is that the DP (Director Of Photography)kept walking through Bale's sight line to adjust lighting. Mr. Bale went on an embarrassingly long, F-Bomb fueled, verbal assault of the DP before demanding another take...

3) Someone snapped a cell phone pic of Michael Phelps smoking out of a bong. The 23 year old Olympic Gold Medalist was visiting an acquaintance at a college party where he allegedly smoked marijuana...
________________________________________________________________________________

A)Hey, Batman! Shut the hell up and do your job. The job you are paid ridiculously insane wages to do. Act, you overpaid, overrated dickhead.

B)'Who am I? Who am I? I'm the poor dickhead who paid over a hundred bucks a pop to see this piece of shit show and get yelled at by 'Corky's Mom! Say Cheese!'

C) So what? He smoked a little weed. Half those Olympic athletes are shooting 'roids their entire professional career. Phelps let loose, smoked a little chiba chiba, and has already had to issue an apology... for having some dickhead snap his picture at a party. It doesn't make him less of an American, does it?

'Something touched me deep inside...'

Today marks the 50th Anniversary of The Day The Music Died. February 3rd 1959 - Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and JP The Big Bopper Richardson die in a plane crash outside of Clear Lake, Iowa. Prompting the music industry to grieve 3 talented musicians who died too young.

I read somewhere that when Waylon Jennings gave up his seat to a sick Big Bopper, Buddy Holly sarcastically said to him something about hoping that their tour bus would freeze. Jennings promptly responded, 'Well, I hope your plane crashes.'

How in the hell do you spell Punxsutawney?

Happy Groundhog's Day!

It snuck up on me this year. My wife and I love the movie and I have to confess that I have the desire, at one point in my life, to visit Punxsutawney, PA, go to Gobbler's Knob (hehehehehehehehe)and witness the celebration first hand.
The link above is just a little video from weather.com. Who knew Phil had so many imitators?

Don't You Judge Me.

Sometimes I still buy comic books. And by 'sometimes' I mean I'm kinda on a first name basis with the comic store owner, he keeps a folder for me, and I get emailed his weekly newsletter. I don't have a $50 a week habit like some people I know but let's face it comics aren't cheap these days. (When I was 'collecting' as a child I would pay for my comics with pocket change. I remember when I thought it was outrageous to pay 75 cents for a new title. -I sound like a grandfather, don't I?) Anyway, I go in every few weeks and see what there is.

Sometimes I buy a comic for nostalgia's sake. There's a new mini-series The Haunted Tank. I remember a former run of this title and thought I'd check out the new one.

Sometimes I get suckered in by a suggestion of the owner. He'll say, "Dude have you read the new Hellboy? I know you dig those comics. Check it out bro."

Then there are the times when a major 'event' is happening in the comic book world and I don't want to be left out of the loop. "What's this 1985 title all about? I wonder?"

But now I'm starting to get annoyed with the industry.

Why, you ask? (Thank you for humoring the little geek inside me who still loves the frosted side.)

Because they're trying to to gouge my pockets. For instance, this past year a certain comic book 'Universe' was having yet another in a long line of crises. This crisis promised to be the final one; the Final Crisis, you might say. So it's supposed to be a 7 part mini-series. Great 7 issues spread out over 7 month's or so; fine!

Wrong! Issue 7 just came out and I realize something is amiss. I feel like there are parts of the story missing. Here's the catch. Comic companies today sell you on a big event like this, claim a mini-series, and then include several other 'tie ins' to the title. Understand?

No? Okay, this 7 issue mini-series is better understood if you also buy a one shot title that supplements the story between issues 3 and 4, then you have to read a few issues of a Batman tie in at some point to find out what happened to the caped-crusader after he was captured, and finally it is important to also purchase a 2 issue 3-D Superman title to understand where the Man of Steel disappeared to before finally reappearing in the climax of the original mini-series you were trying to read in the first place. Not to mention the other titles that have been born from this Final Crisis. It's ridiculous.

Now I know you maybe be saying to yourself, "A grown man buying comics is ridiculous." But I say to you that grown men, and women are the only one's who can afford to buy comics these days. It's not for children anymore. What child do you know could afford to plunk down $2.99, $3.50, and sometimes $4.99 for a comic book title. $5 comic books? That's insane.

So what's my point? I don't really know. This post is really for those people who keep harassing me about having children. Lay off, I can't afford a kid right now I have to find out what really happened to Wolverine!