Next year.......

Last year I headed out to watch Game 5 of The World Series at my buddy's house.  I had it in my head that it would be good luck to listen to For Those About To Rock (We Salute You) on repeat the whole way out, as I was just certain the My Beloved Phillies were going to rock...and I wanted to salute them.  So I started the CD, put it on repeat, and we were on our way.  A mile or two from our destination The Mrs. started talking to me and, in frustration, I hit the power button on the car stereo.  We chatted and I resumed playing the song.
The game went six innings and was rained out.
When we left to go to the VFW to watch the last three innings a couple of days later, I pleaded with The Mrs., "Please...no talking on the way down."
She agreed and we listened to For Those About To Rock the whole way down, uninterrupted...and My Beloved Phillies won.
For Those About To Rock (We Salute You) also assisted in The University of Florida winning the National Championship in football, and it ensured a victorious Super Bowl XLIII for The Pittsburgh Steelers.
But so far in this World Series it's only won My Beloved Phillies one game......and in all honesty I gotta give most of the credit to Cliff Lee for that one.  That man's a fucking baseball ninja.
My lucky jersey hasn't been working, either.
And there's a guy at the bar where I watched My Beloved Phillies win last year that is not only a Penn State fan, but a Yankees fan as well.  At least this year, anyway.  How much asshole can you squeeze into one person?
Anyway, I got to thinking.
The series is 3-1 right now.  If the yankees win just one more game, they win The Series.  And tonight's game is in Philly at Citizen's Bank Park, the same place where Lidge threw the last pitch last year when we won against Tampa Bay.  I truly believe that My Beloved Phillies can and will win tonight, and I retain enough faith and hope that They can pull off two more wins.  But just on the off chance that the yankees get lucky and smoke a couple long balls offa Cliff Lee tonight and win.....I really don't want to see them celebrate on the same mound where Lidge went to his knees, arms outstretched, last year when we won.  It would just feel so.......wrong.
So.......
Because my superstitions haven't been working anyway (including the one, "you gotta watch or they won't win!"), and because I don't want to run the risk of putting a beer mug through some bar's big screen if the yankees pull another win out of their syringes and checkbook.........I'm not going to watch Game 5 tonight. 
It's not a case of me being a bad sport.  I will watch Game 6, knowing that if My Beloved Phillies lose I will see the yankees celebration....and I will watch the celebration.  I just don't want to run the risk of seeing it in my ballpark.
OK, fuck it....I'm a bad sport.  Whatever.  I guess I'm replacing an old superstition with a new one.  Curt Schilling used to drape a towel over his head whenever Mitch Williams took the mound.  Maybe this is my way of doing that, I don't know.  At least I'm being honest...I could say I'm missing the game because I have to be at work tomorrow morning at 6:00.  Shit, that's not even part of the reason....if we win tonight I'll be watching Game 6 (somewhere), and I'm in at 5:00 on Thursday. 
I just keep thinking of that piece of shit petitte winning The World Series on Philly dirt.
We can't have that.

I....it's just...um........words can't describe.  This is just.......too funny.......

NEW YORK (AP) —Jimmy Rollins(notes) has done pretty well making predictions. His latest is sure to rile up New York Yankees fans.

“Of course we’re going to win,” he said on “The Jay Leno Show” on Monday night, two days before Game 1 of the World Series. “If we’re nice we’ll let it go six (games), but I’m thinking five. Close it out at home.”

The Yankees were not moved by Rollins’ boast, dismissing the Philadelphia shortstop’s comment Tuesday.

“He’s been Nostradamus, that’s what I heard,” Yankees catcher Jorge Posada(notes) said. “He’s been (making) a lot of good predictions, so we’ve got to take that away from him.”

Earlier this season, Rollins forecast the Yankees and Phillies would meet in the Fall Classic this year.

“He predicted we’d play them in the World Series about seven years ago, too,” Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter(notes) said. “You make enough predictions, I guess you’d be right most of the time, right?”

Most of the time. Try all of the time, so far.

Rollins got into the soothsaying business before the 2007 season when he exclaimed the Phillies, not the Mets, were the team to beat in the NL East. He backed it up with an MVP season as Philadelphia surged into first as New York collapsed.

And last year, Rollins said the Phillies would win 100 games. They got 92 of them in the regular season and 11 more in the playoffs en route to the World Series title.

Rollins’ teammates are used to his swagger, and are not bothered by the bulletin board fodder.

“That’s just Jimmy,” Phillies slugger Ryan Howard(notes) said. “He loves that spotlight. He loves putting that type of - I guess I don’t want to say pressure - but just putting that kind of attention on himself and on our team. Obviously, with those comments, you know here in Yankee Stadium, you know they’re going to be all over him. And you know what? He wants that. He relishes that moment.”

Then why didn’t he go further a call for a sweep?

“I think it would be very tough to take four. You figure one game they’re going to find a way to win,” Rollins said during Tuesday’s media session. “That’s the way it is.”

Teammate Chase Utley(notes) has his own plans for Rollins if he’s right again.

“I think if this one sticks I think I’ll take him to Vegas with me,” Utley said.

OK, so here's what happened.  Apparently, when I set the alarm clock last night I had a bit of a brain fart and wound up setting it for an hour earlier than I needed to.  It's now right around 5:50 am and I don't need to leave the house until 7:30.  Subtract from that the six minutes I need for grooming (the shower and shave end of that deal is done) and the three I need to get dressed, and I've got the better part of an hour and a half to post.
You hear that gurgling and dripping?  That's the coffee.  Generic French freedom roast is like a five dollar whore.......none too pretty but gets the job done.
Anyway.

First things first...thanks to starbuck42084  for my awesome new icon, made from pictures taken of me just before the Alice Cooper show.  There was no good reason to use it for this particular post, I just really dig it.  Thanks again.

I had one of the best talks with My Oldest, Sam, last night.  We covered a lot of ground.  Her mother, The Red Death, is all pissed off because Sam spent $200 on a plane ticket to visit her boyfriend, Bill, over the weekend.  Red called me and asked if I would call Sam and talk to her about responsible money handling, yada yada yada.  I called Sam and she told me how she had been staying in when friends were going to the movies to save money for this trip.  How she would go to McDonald's and get a half a dozen sandwiches from the ninety-nine cent menu and store them in her fridge for cheap meals to save money for this trip.  Ramen noodles, cheesy mac, generic bottled water.  All measures she took to be able to set aside $200 for this trip.  She told me about how she had gotten her Friday assignments ahead of time so she could complete them and turn them in early so she could ditch a few classes without falling behind.  I got to thinking, maybe Sam should call Red and talk to her about responsibility.  I really respect the way Sam had planned out this trip, from the budgeting to the getting shit done in advance.  And I think she respected the fact that I didn't call intent on giving her a one sided parental rant on frugality.  I told her that on the one hand, Life is too short and we need to seize moments when we can.  But we also need to plan for our future.  It's a balancing act, and a damned difficult one.  If you live to much in the Now, you end up like me.  If you live only for the Future you end up like Red.  Sam seems to have the ability to do both.  She's working really hard towards her goals, and her grades are reflecting that.  She really wanted to spend a weekend with Bill and took appropriate measures to make it happen.  Where's the fuckin harm?  We scrimp and save to send her money for food and such...if she chooses to scrimp and save so she can spend some of that money on a trip to see him.....so be it.
I told her I was selling off a few shares of Walmart stock so I'd be able to send her some dough.  It won't get there in time for this weekend, but I'm sure she'll be glad to get it when it arrives.  I told her I felt more comfortable sending her cash because I don't want her mother going off on me for "taking Sam's side".  (There really aren't sides for me, just right and wrong...and I don't see the wrong in this trip of hers.)  I told her I was going to send it in a book because cash in a plain envelope makes me nervous...was there a book she'd been wanting to read?
"Yeah, it's called I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell......."
Wherever did this child come from.......?

My Stepdaughter, Nikki, graduated high school on Friday.  It was.....emotional, to say the least.  Nikki has had to work extremely hard to get where she is, and her pride in the moment showed on her face.  It was a small ceremony, six girls were graduating.  The principal of the school that is run within the treatment facility gave a small talk about the girls' hardwork and determination.  Then he allowed the girls to speak.  When Nikki thanked her "Mom and Dad"....well...it was just about the coolest thing ever.  For the longest time, Nikki just wanted me.....well, dead.  I remember when Nikki was in a placement in Erie, The Mrs. and I were going to visit her...The Mrs. said, "I wanna warn you, there's something that Nikki wants to ask you..."
"What?"
"She wants it to be a surprise."
So we get to the facility, go into the counsellor's office, and sit.  The counsellor says, "John, there's something Nikki wants to ask you..."
"OK....".  I look at Nikki.
She looks at me.  (Which in itself was a milestone, Nikki's not real big on eye contact...or at least didn't used to be...)
"Would it be OK if I called you 'Dad'?"
In a therapy session they had discussed what a Dad is...and the difference between that and a father. 
Needless to say, I said yes, and she's been calling me Dad ever since.
Well, when she thanked "Mom and Dad" at her graduation, I thought back to that day in Erie.  By the time it was the parents and staff's turn to say a few words to the girls, I was completely overcome with emotion.  In all honesty, it doesn't take much anymore.  I cry when my sports teams when.  The Mrs. told her how proud she was of her, and that she loved her.  Nikki's paternal grandparents spoke of pride and love, too.  I just sat there, smiling at her, tears welling up in my eyes.  I really wanted to say something...anything...but I couldn't.  We spoke later in the car and I told her that she had accomplished something that I never did....she graduated from high school.  I didn't get my "diploma" until the year My Youngest, Molly, was born.
We stopped for breakfast and took Nikki to her new placement, and independent living facility m uch closer to home.....about 40 minutes away.  The place she just graduated from was two and a half hours.

My Youngest, Molly, is having a hard time.  Couple things are bothering her.  One is what Alice Cooper refers to as Teenage Lament '74.....".......what are you gonna do, gonna do, gonna do.......?"  There for the longest while she had planned on going to cosmetology school, and then trying to get into the Tom Savini school in Pittsburgh to learn theatrical makeup, prosthetic design, and special effects.  Then she got into photography and wants to pursue that.  But she just isn't.......sure.  I want to give her advice, but how does someone who runs the fucking deli in a Walmart give someone career advice?  I enjoy what I do and we're getting by, but seriously......a deli?  Me?  So when we talk I just tell her to weigh the pros and cons of both fields...and to consider pursuing both.  I mean, I can certainly see incorporating photography in with cosmetology and theatrical make up.  I don't think one needs to exclude the other.  Nobody likes uncertainty, and I think it's weighing especially heavy on Molly.
The other thing that's eating at her is...missing Sam.  I truly believe that Red is.  ..I'm not sure of the proper psychiatric term so I'll just say.....fucked in the head.  I'm not saying that because she's my ex-wife.  No, the inverse is true...she's my ex-wife because she's fucked in the head.  And I get the distinct impression from both girls that she's no more fit as a mother than she was as a wife.  (Don't get me wrong, I was a lousy husband the first time out...it was definitely a mutually beneficial divorce for both parties...)  I think Sam was Molly's go-to girl...her island of sanity in the sea of their mother's insanity.  Molly and I spoke not too long ago about Sam, and Molly said, "I went to her for everything...when I would get dressed I'd ask Sam's advice".  Which I found a little surprising, because Molly has a very keen and eclectic fashion sense...Sam is more a jeans and t-shirt girl. 
I think my biggest failure as a parent was losing custody of The Girls to Red.  Though, in all honesty, that's more a failure to be pinned on the judge than me.  I was able to offer them emotional stability and unconditional love...but couldn't provide all that well financially.  Red could provide everything for them financially, but has all the emotional attachment of a frozen carp.  Apparently the judge presiding over our divorce felt that financial concerns are more important to a child's well being than emotional support.  Which is fucked up because if I had gotten custody, Red could have still provided as much finances as she wanted.  But as a non-custodial parent (the hardest fucking job in the world, by the way) providing emotional support becomes something you can only do on Visiting Days and via the phone. 
Anyway, I continually call Molly...I tell her that if she ever wants to call me or visit sometime other than when we already have plans...just let me know.  I don't know what else to do for her.  She seems to be enjoying teendom about as much as I did.
Shit.

Well, it's about time to get dressed.  Have a great Tuesday.  Oh, and The World Series starts tomorrow.......I'll get all the sleep I need when I'm dead.

GO PHILLIES!!!!!

.......what do you suppose will be more humiliating to the Yankees........losing to the Arizona Diamondbacks in 2001, blowing a 3-0 lead over the Boston Red Sox in the 2004 ALCS, or losing to the defending world champion Philaphuckindelphia Phillies in 2009?
Oh well, I guess I'll just have to wait and ask them next week.

GO PHILLIES!!!!!!!!!!

01.)  The Mrs., The Girls, and My Boys.

02.)  The Philadelphia Phillies.  All years, not just the last two.

03.)  Rockpage.

04.)  The ability to burn CDs.

05.)  Having a job, even when it sucks.

06.)  My robe, even though it isn't mine.

07.)  Peter Criss's attitude and honesty.

08.)  A hot shower.

09.)  Coffee.

10.)  Crispy scrapple.

It's funny, when I got the message about the second gig (which chronologically would have been my first gig) I thought, "Wow, things are taking off even better and quicker than I had anticipated".
Well, the guy who had asked me to open for his band on November 20th just informed me that the bar owner had said it was a no-go.  Guess he didn't think a comedian was an appropriate opener for a metal band.  He's obviously never heard any of my comedy.
Oh well.
This changes nothing except the date and location of my first gig.  As it stands right now, my first gig will be at a bar called 30- Something...opening for and MCing the benefit for RockPage.  That will be the 6th or 13th of December.
If I'm able to take the Wednesday and Thursday off before the Rob Zombie concert, my first gig will be at The Keswick Coffee shop, a cozy little java house owned by a high school friend.  They have open mic night every Wednesday, and that would be December 2nd.
I'm still very optimistic, even if I am a little disappointed. 
And I'm still going to spend this Friday fleshing out the details and order of my act.  (I hesitate to call it an act...it will actually be more the real me than what they see at Walmart.  Me being friendly to people in the deli...now that's a fucking act.)
Anyway...details as they become available........

......that 85% of all men believe that they have superior driving skills.  I don't know if that's true or not, but I do know there is a buck running around in the woods of Pennsylvania that owes his life to my superior driving skills.
You're welcome, dumbfuck.

I wrote two things on Rockpage on Friday...the day I was supposed to be cold calling a couple hundred bars.  One was a comment on the thread about the benefit.  The other was this, that I posted in Bands/Musicians Available/Needed:

"Comedian available for...just about anything. Will work first gig for one U.S. dollar and free drinks. Available all nights and willing to call off from day job if needed on short notice..........."

After it took close to 24 hours for yesterday's adrenaline overload to dissipate, I come home today, check my email, and find this:

"ok im game nov 20th at the Oceola Hotel its a freebie......."

I wrote back asking the time, duration, and how  "censored" I would need to be.  To which I received this reply:

"not sure about the time. I'll talk to the owner tomorrow. i would think about an hour, dirty as you want."

Dirty as I want?  Apparently we haven't met.  I read these emails to my mother and her reply to the last part was, "Oh boy". 

So yeah.....two short sentences on a web page, and 48 hours later I've got two gigs lined up...one for an hour, one for a whole evening.

Dirty as I want.

Fucking A. 


I'm never gonna get to sleep tonight.......

".......But cohesion is possible if we strive
Theres no reason, theres no lesson
No time like the present, telling you right now
What have you got to lose, what have you got to lose
Except your soul...who's with us!?"

From the introduction to

"Pulse of The Maggots"

Slipknot

(This song means more to me today than it ever has before......."

Warning:  I am the most excited I've been in a long long time and on top of that, I've had the better part of a pot of coffee.  Add to that the fact that I can't get anybody on the phone to tell about this, shit....The Mrs. doesn't even know yet...and you've got one hopped up motherfucker who's about ready to bust at the seams.  So I apologize if any of this comes across as wired out or disjointed.....

Let's back up a little bit and I'll explain how I got to this point........

November 22, 1963.  Lee Harvey Oswald takes three shots from the window of a book depository and ends the life of John F. Kennedy.  My parents "comfort" each other and...oh god, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

OK, fast forward almost forty-six years.

Last week a friend of mine who is active in the local live music scene sent me a link to The List of all the nightclubs and bars in Altoona, State College, and Johnstown...the three towns closest to being a city near where I live.  The idea was to use The List as a resource and pimp myself out, trying to book a gig so's I could finally.....nut up or shut up and do some fucking comedy.
So yesterday was my day off.  I get up, make some coffee, grab a shower, get dressed, and sit down at the computer.  I pull up The List and set the phone down on top of the tower. 
And I stared at The List.
Then I checked my email and......
.....stared at The List some more.
Then I got onto Facebook and fucked around for a few hours, went back to the list, and.....
.....stared at it some more.
What the fuck?  Quit being a pussy and pick up the phone!
The List originated on a website called Rockpage, kind of a Facebook for area bands.  You can post there if you're looking for drums, a drummer, or if you're a drummer in need of a band.  Bars post looking for bands, and bands post looking for gigs.  One such post was a guy asking if any of the area bands would be interested in doing a benefit.  There was a lot of response, close to fifteen/twenty bands that said they'd love to take part.  (I wish I could remember what The Cause was....I hope it wasn't NAMBLA!)  I figured, "What the fuck?" and posted, "I'm not the least bit musically gifted, but if you want a comedian/MC let me know, I'd be happy to help".
And then I spent the rest of my day off fucking around on Facebook.
The Devil comes in many forms.....redheads, high fructose corn syrup, congressmen and senators, and Facebook.
But I digresss.
You can see where I'm going with this, can't you? 
Wait for it.....waaaaait for it............
So The Mrs. comes home and asks how my phone calling went.  I told her I hadn't made a single call.  I think she was even more disappointed in me than I was, and I was plenty disappointed.  I'd had such high hopes for yesterday...I was gonna call until I either got a gig or got to the end of The List. 
So we went to The Vets and watched the Phillies play seven innings of good baseball, and then the Dodgers played two innings of really good baseball and won, 2-1. 
Then we grabbed a bite to eat, and went to our friend's house.
Got up this morning as The Mrs. was readying to leave, to go see Nikki.  Gave her a kiss, poured some coffee, and sat down at the computer.
Waaaaaait for it.........
So she leaves and I log on.  I go to my email and find I have one new message.  It was from the organizer of the benefit..........

"We could use a little levity between bands. It would be cool if you'd like to do it."

I'm sorry, what?  What did you just say?  I went back and read it a second time.......

"We could use a little levity between bands. It would be cool if you'd like to do it."

Like to do it?  Like to do it?  Is he fucking kidding me?  I've been waiting my whole life to do something like this.  I asked a buddy of mine, the guy that sent me the link, about the club that this benefit is to be in.  It's big.  And it's a metal bar.  Not a metal bar like what you'd find on the door of a prison cell, a heavy metal bar.  But you knew that.  Sorry, it's the caffeine.  You were warned.
I mean, what are the odds?  I post one little message and get a job (a non-paying one, but I'm totally OK with that) MCing a big benefit concert.  Well, big for around here.  Jesus, I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I'd have called all the bars on The List.
So anyway, there you have it.  That's my news.  It took me forty-five years but I'm finally going to hit the stage.
And yes.....I'll post the videos here..........

Some people fuck their way to happiness.

Some drink.

Some do drugs.

Some drive recklessly.

I used to need all four.  Often simultaneously.

Now...the Phillies winning the first game of the NLCS is all it takes.  Welcome back, Lidge...'bout fucking time...........

I don't recall all the stages of grief, or even how many there are.  I remember denial (never really felt it, though...not concerning death at least...if somebody dies, they're dead...bottom line), anger (let's be honest...I feel that one in traffic, so yeah...I'm no stranger), and acceptance (again, in the absence of denial, what is there but acceptance?).  I think there's supposed to be a bargaining stage, but even when my faith is at it's peak, I still don't see Monty Hall in the role of god.  When your time is up, your time is up.
But the feeling I most often have after someone's death is the man-what-I-wouldn't-give-for-one-more-hour-with-them feeling.  I still have that feeling about most everyone I've known who has died.  Oh, to spend an afternoon cooking with my Grammy...shit, I'd settle for watching an episode of Ryan's Hope with her.  Or better yet, Gumby.  To talk to Herb over a cold Foster's.  To sit and bullshit with Missy's Pap, though I doubt we'd be done in an hour (he was chattier than even I...).  To have a heart to heart with Travis...and ask him if he rigged last year's World Series.  And could he maybe do it again this year?  To be sitting on the golf cart with my Uncle Don, heading out to his new workshop to look around.
Perhaps this is a form of denial.  But I don't really think so.  When I long to see them again, I know it will only be in my dreams.  And I'm OK with that.  When I wake up after dreaming about someone whom (or is it who?) I have known that has died I feel strangely...grateful.  Sometimes a little strange, but never sad.  I'm either thankful that they had been in my life, or thankful that I had gotten to "see" them again.
Anyway, I just woke up from my second dream about Uncle Don in the past week.  My Oldest Nephew, Tim, and I had just returned from buying a new car.  Well, new to me.  It was a Caprice Classic police intercepter.  My Uncle Don came down the steps to the garage (which in itself is weird because I've never lived in a house that had an attached garage in the basement...but anyway...) to look over the car for me.  He smiled at it...why the fuck would anyone want to drive an old cop car?...and reached under to feel the tires.  He grabbed a piece of loose rubber and pulled.  He pulled a big flap off and the tire went flat, steaming.  He looked at me with the piece of tire in his hand and said, "Well that isn't good...".
You don't need a dream interpretation dictionary to know that this dream wasn't about bad tires or my having seen The Blues Brothers one too many times.  It was about remembering my Uncle Don the way he was before the cancer.  Strong as a fucking ox and bigger than Life.  The hardest part about losing him, for me anyway, wasn't so much the fact that he died.  Like the song says, "Come on motherfucker, everybody has to die".  It's the fact that this man, who had the strength and personality of a mountain weighed right around a hundred pounds when he died.  I've seen few people laid out who (or is it whom?) I found to be as disturbing as my Uncle Don.  I was prepared to see him dead, I wasn't prepared to see him...frail.
And you don't need a dream interpretation dictionary to know that the reason my Uncle Don has been a recurring character in my dreams lately is Veteran Bob's diagnosis.  His doctor has informed him (and this is paraphrased from what Bob has told me) that there are apparently five kinds of mesothelioma.  The one kind is operable, but will still mean a lot of chemo and radiation...a long uncertain path for a man with as many pre-existing conditions as Veteran Bob.  The other four would mean Bob has about eighteen months to get his affairs in order and say his goodbyes.
My problem with all of this isn't denial.  I'm not looking to bargain, and I think I'm as in control of my anger as I can be.  What I need...what I'm not ready for is...watching somebody die.  During the last couple of years of my Grammy's life I was spared having to watch her decline by 200 miles of turnpike.  I got to go home.  My Uncle Don lived his last days in Florida.  Most everybody else was just a matter of The Phone Call.  I've never actually had to watch anybody die before.  I don't know what to say, and I always know what to say.  I don't know what to do, and...well, you'd think I'd be used to not knowing what to do by now.  Every time I lose somebody I think to myself, "Well, I'll know how to handle this better...next time".  Walmart calls it a correction of errors.  But Next Time is always different.  And I don't think I've ever been down a road as new and dark and frightening as the one I'm heading down with Bob.  If Life has taught me anything, it's that I can handle anything.  Anything.  And I'm sure I'll find a way through this.  I'm just not able to see it right now.
Maybe the next time I dream about Uncle Don I'll have enough sense to ask his advice on something other than cars.

Thanks for playing, Colorado...here are some nice parting gifts.

And now, onto the Dodgers.  I wonder if Larry Bowa's still their third base coach.......

A heartfelt and sincere congratulations to President Obama on winning the Nobel Peace Prize.  It kinda reminds me of when Marisa Tomei won the Oscar for My Cousin Vinnie.  Keep writing, Jackie Collins.....your Pulitzer can't be far off.............

A man is not defined by his hardships, but Veteran Bob has had his share.  He was shot in the head in Nam.  He groaned as they were putting him in a body bag, and they realized he was still alive.  He was the only survivor in his platoon.  After a rather lengthy hospital stay during which the roof of his mouth was rebuilt, Veteran Bob re-enlisted and served another tour.
He returned from serving his country to find that his sister's husband had been serving his wife while he was away.  Both Veteran Bob and his sister got divorces. 
After readjusting to Life stateside, Veteran Bob started an electrical business, and enjoyed a fair amount of success.
On September 11, 2001, Veteran Bob lost his entire crew in the attacks on the World Trade Center.
And now, Bob has been diagnosed with mesothelioma...three spots.
I try really hard not to be a negative person.
But I try really hard to not be naive.

Pray, send positive energy, keep a good thought.  Whatever it is you do, please do it.

Thanks,

UFBB

I've decided to finally finish the Paint The Hallway project that I started a while back (follow-through remains an issue with me) and as we speak, the coat of primer is drying.  So that leaves me with what passes for down time.  I suppose I could do the dishes, or maybe even mow the lawn for what would hopefully be the last time this season, but I'd better save my energy for putting a couple of coats of Fairy Mauve in the hallway.
So here I am.

Movie Night was a day later than it has been in recent weeks...we usually go on Friday night but Friday just wasn't good for us this week.  So a few of us got together (me, The Mrs., Molly, and our friend Brian) yesterday afternoon and went to the 1:30 matinee of Zombieland.  I know a lot of people that probably won't go to this because they don't like comedy mixed in with their horror, or if they do, in small doses.  Well, they can take comfort in the fact that this is not a funny horror movie.  It's a comedy...with gore.  Shit, The Mrs. even liked it and there are three kinds of movies she doesn't like....zombie, kung fu, and anything with Leslie Nielsen.  Don't get me wrong, there are zombies aplenty.  But the movie's more about four survivors (well, five if you count Bill Murray, but I don't wanna give too much away...).  Oh my god, the scene where a woman is making her escape in a mini-van.....she hits another vehicle and crashes through the windshield, skidding along the road.....fucking classic.  Molly laughed out loud.....there's one apple that didn't fall far.  Anyway, if you wanna see some cool zombies and laugh your ass off, check it out.  Our Movie Night record is now 3-2.  We'll have to select our next one carefully.....I think we're going to see Whip It next weekend...a high school friend of mine was the still photographer on it, and I kinda promised him.  It'd better not suck.......

Still workin' on Angela's Ashes.  It's not that it isn't good, it's actually one of the most interesting books I've ever read.  And it has certainly put my current budgetary concerns into perspective.  It's just this whole perpetual motion thing I have going on....as long as I'm active, even if it's just typing or working the controller on the XBox or Playstation, I'm OK.  But sit me still to read a book or watch a movie and I'd damn well better be hopped up on caffeine.  I read on my breaks, and occasionally in the tub.  So any book I read is going to take awhile.  I used to read for a couple of hours a day.  Now I'm lucky if I can read for half an hour.  I went to the laundromat with The Mrs. yesterday, presumably to read for the two hours we would be there.  She had to wake me up when she was done.

Talked to Sam yesterday.  Last time we spoke she was in a bit of a panic over chemistry.  She was feeling as if she had bitten off more than she could chew by taking the advanced class.....she got a forty-something on her first test.  We talked and I told her that while I was sure she could master it if she focused and studied, it wasn't high school chem and it was going to be difficult.  Yesterday she told me that on her last chem test she got a ninety-seven.  Now that's more like it.  She said she got a better grade because the test was easy.  I said the test was easy because she studied her ass off.  Big difference. 

The Mrs. had to go out into the yard today and gently shoo the deer away so we could let My Boys out to do the doo.  If we had just opened up the door and let them out, Otis would not have been as gentle.  He runs at them full tilt, but when he gets close to them he stops, like he's thinking, "Jesus, they're bigger than I thought!".  And then, of course, there's the buck to consider.  He doesn't run from our little ten pound chunk of evil. 

Sitting in church today I got curious.....the one hymn we were singing was in the seven hundreds...which made me wonder...was there a hymn number 666...so I looked through the hymnal, fully expecting it to go from number 665 to 667...kinda like hotels go from the twelfth floor to the fourteenth.  But lo and behold, there was hymn number 666.  And I got to wondering...how often do churches actually sing hymn number 666?  Ever?  I don't ever recall them saying, "And now please turn to hymn number 666"...and I've been to several different churches.  This is the kinda shit I think about when I'm in church.  That, and I wonder why on the big stained glass window behind the pulpit Jesus only has on one shoe?  And yes, I've asked assorted pastors (we're on our third at St. James) and nobody has been able to answer me.  That's what I like about the Lutheran church...at least I'm allowed to ask the questions.  At the Baptist church I grew up in, questions were frowned upon.  Reminds me of a joke, and then I've gotta paint the hallway.
A Baptist takes his Lutheran friend to a revival.  During the service the pastor asks, "Is there anybody here who isn't a Baptist?"
The Lutheran raises his hand.
"And what denomination are you, my son?"
"I'm a Lutheran," he says.
"And why are you a Lutheran?"
"Well, my father was a Lutheran, his father was a Lutheran, and his grandfather was a Lutheran."
The pastor smiles.  "Well son, if your father was a jackass, and his father was a jackass, and his grandfather was a jackass, what would that make you?"
The Lutheran smiles back and says, "Why then I'd be a Baptist..."

Thank you, I'm here all week.  Tip your waitress.......

Actually, I prefer to be around people of differing views.  If I'm with a friend and I make the comment, "Reagan was the best president this country has ever had", and you're like minded and reply, "Yeah, he was"......end of discussion.  Not much fun.  Now, if I were to say "Reagan was the best president this country ever had", and you reply with a passionate, "Are you kidding me?  JFK was the best president this country ever had", well then...we've got something to discuss and I am then free to spend the rest of the day pointing out the error(s) of your thinking.  See what I'm saying?
I don't care what a person's religious, political, literary, or cinematic opinions are, as long as they are passionate about them and respect my right to be passionate about mine. 
That's why most of my friends are liberals.....I never get tired of being right.
I love you guys......

Best piece of music.

Best use of a piece of music in a movie.  Ever.

Best Actor.

In his best performance.

Best sex.  (That's a long story...)