Saturday, 8.23.8

Finally home with a couple of hours sleep.  Teresa wanted to do a little shopping for the house.  We ended up at Linens & Things.  Becca and I were asked to leave the store.

In our defense, the sign DID say, "Throw Pillows"

Friday, 8.22.8

Had a burst of energy last night.  Bolted out of bed (oh man these hotel mattresses are SOO soft!) at 2:30am and typed for 45 minutes without stopping.  I had a great idea and I wanted to get it written down before I lost it.  It's one of the few times I've had an idea come to me fully intact.  Concept, conflict, subplots, resolution, some of the key characters... I even had a title, which is extremely rare for me!  I usually write Sci-Fi or Horror but I almost never use space as the backdrop.  It seems too obvious.  But, this was going to be different; I had a great story to tell and about half of it would take place in space.  That means I have a lot of research to do.  I was very excited!  After getting it all typed out and outlined, I thought about staying up and writing some more but I decided to hit it fresh this morning and went back to bed.

I woke up this morning, brewed my coffee, checked on Teresa and Becca to make sure the storm hasn't blown them away and then checked my e-mail.  I was deliberately waiting on getting back to the writing.  I knew I had a winner of an idea on my hands and I wanted to enjoy the moment.  So when I finally opened up the file and re-read what I wrote last night, it was sufficiently built up enough in my head to make the disappointment all the more tragic.  I hadn't come up with a beautiful new idea.  All I did was re-write "Capricorn One" with elements of "Contact" in it.  DAMN!  I knew this was a great story, I just thought it was mine!

Now we know where these horrible Hollywood re-writes and remakes come from.  Writers that get to this point and push forward anyway.  Oh well, back to square one.

Wednesday, 8.20.8

No catch phrases, I won't pull any obscure references.  The two latest remakes/reboots I've just heard about are "Poltergeist" and "Greatest American Hero".  And there is talk about rebooting "Child's Play".  I almost like the GAH idea but the unwitting/bumbling superhero story could be told in a new way.  It sickens me that I have all these ideas floating around in my head, that I converse with people that have better ideas in their heads, and yet Hollywood continues to regurgitate old ideas over and over.  There are only (insert argumentative number here) plots out there and a good writer has to reinvent the story and make it theirs.  Why do we have to shuffle the same crap around?  I think it's just to give some of today's crappiers actors something to do.

"You must go to Gort and you must say these words, "Like um, Klaatu barada nikto dude!"  Keanu as Plastic Man I can believe, as Klaatu not so much.

Do they REALLY think they are going to improve on a story told by Spielberg at the top of his game and made by the guy that brought us the good version of "Texas Chainsaw"?  You can't improve on that clown scene.  I don't have the new fashionable fear of clowns, but I still get the willies when that kid looks under the bed, nothing is there and he comes back up...  AHHHHHHHH!  I'm getting chills just writing it!  I guess you could improve it a bit, the small boy is alone in his bedroom, looks under the bed, nothing is there, he comes up and BAM!  Michael Jackson is in bed with him and dressed like a Catholic priest.

So in my frustration, I started making a list of movies that should never be remade.  I know a lot of them are remakes and retells to begin with, but sometimes there is a time/place when everything goes right and movie magic is made.  Don't try to recreate those movies, we will all be disappointed:

Psycho, Planet of the Apes, Amityville Horror, The Time Machine, Carrie, My Fair Lady, Sons of Katie Elder, Logan's Run...  You get my point, every damn one of them raped and left for dead in a ditch.  It's a lot like cover songs.  There are some you must never touch, and yet Tori Amos keeps making CDs...

Even if a bad movie becomes a cult favorite, don't touch it!  Movie magic, remember?  You can't improve on something the public has taken as part of themselves.  No matter HOW good the new Rocky Horror Picture Show is, it won't hold a candle to the original.  You either love it or you hate it.  If you hate it, odds are you have no interest in the new version.  If you love it, you don't want a new version.  RHPS without Tim Curry is a crime against all that was ever good in Hollywood.  You just can't recreate moments.

Some remakes are good, "The Birdcage" is one of my favorites.  There are times that a remake is better than the original (Scarface) and there are times that remakes are great while not outdoing the original (Magnificent Seven/Seven Samurai).  Movie opinions are subjective and what I like, you might not and what you like I probably won't.  But the basic idea I have a problem with is lazy writers.  Rather than reinvent the story, they do a direct remake.  I'm tired of getting the same movies thrown at me every ten years!

Monday, 8.18.8

I'm reading a book that has a lengthy piece by Bertrand Russell.  I wanted to find out if the piece I was reading contained the idea of the celestial teapot.  I had a split-second where my brain was trying to figure out where Ctrl+F was on the book.  Is that bad?

With today's technology enabling instant communications world-wide, shouldn't the National Hurricane Center be anywhere BUT Miami?  They can report from a bunker in an Iowa corn field and we'd never know the difference.

I signed up for a Twitter account back when I thought I was getting a BBy for work.  Soon discovered you don't need a portable to use Twitter.  Still haven't used it much, starting to post messages but I have no followers.  I am broadcasting into a void.  How pathetic am I?  You should all sign up to Twitter just to make me feel like less of a loser.

Had two interesting thoughts as I quietly slipped back into Miami this weekend.  One made me sad, the other made me frustrated and sad.  I'm not sure if I'm sad at how people don't get funny jokes or if I'm sad at just how much of a nerd I really am.  I stopped at an inconvenience store on the way down and the clerk was busy doing a Sudoku puzzle.  She was very sweet and we chatted for a couple of minutes.  She asked if I am any good at Sudoku because she was stuck on one of them.  I told her that I am only good at Binary Sudoku.

          ...Crickets...

I thought that shit was funny and all I got from her was a deer-in-traffic stare and fucking crickets.  Sad.  Maybe it was just over her head?  Could that explain why she's working as a desk clerk?

Speaking of over her head, the comedian Dennis Miller came up in conversation a few weeks ago and as three of us sat in the bar we defined his formula as a three-reference-simile bit.  Name a philosopher or obscure French poet, name an 80's pop culture icon, insert a swear word or say the word "babe".

"It was like Kierkegaard wearing Madonna's pointy bra, babe."

We also defined Family Guy's formula.  It was much the same.  Liquor makes us all smart and smug.

In my hour or two of freedom this weekend we got to talking about comedy (and Dennis Miller came up again...) and some of my friends recommended Ron White.  I am aware of who he is but have never heard him.  They say he is very funny and is very much my style.  I've missed out on so much in the past because I avoid the things that look like I won't like them.  So I'm trying to overcome that and my friend said he was funny.  So I iTune his "Can't Fix Stupid" CD and I listen to it on the road.  Here is the play by play commentary I recorded as I drove:

Ok, he's obviously an established comedian, or he's conceited.

Not very funny though is he...

I'll bet I know this punchline.

Oh man, is he able to get a single line out without laughing at his own jokes?

Established AND conceited...

FUCK!  He just paused for audience reaction.  He actually waited for them to catch up!!!!

Man, this guy's delivery is terrible.  No sense of comedic timing.

Let me guess what THIS punchline will be...

Oh wow, PMS humor.  How original.  Did I enter a time warp?  What year is this?

How much longer is this show?  Can I turn it off now and still form an opinion?

Ok, that line was humorous.  I liked that.

Where's the punchline?

Saw that one coming.  Word for fucking word, I was right again...

Viagra?  Really, that's your joke?  PMS and now Viagra?
Wow, that's an untapped comedy bonanza.  What's next, airline humor?

Ok... ok... ok... I'm following, you're doing a LOT of set up dude.  Oh, the joke's over.

Where's the fucking punchline!?

How do I get that hour of my life back?

Either I have seen too much comedy or they just stopped being funny.  Have I ruined stand-up comedy for myself?  Do I expect too much?  I like intelligent humor but I like lowbrow humor too.  Dennis Miller to Sam Kinison, George Carlin to Bobcat Goldthwaite, Bill Hicks to South Park, Lewis Black to Chris Rock.  I have a wide variety of tastes in stand-up routines but I just didn't think this guy was funny.  I've heard (actually own) a Jeff Foxworthy CD and thought it was rather bland.  The "You might be a redneck..." stuff is obviously stupid but even the rest of his routine seemed watery and weak.  So when the Redneck comedy team got real popular I stayed away because I had heard Foxworthy, didn't like it, didn't want any more.  I tried Ron White out because they said he was different from the rest and funny.  I did not care for him.  But I am glad I tried him out, now I can say for certain that I don't like him at all.  Not funny.

The part that scares me is the fact that I was told this guy reminds my friend a lot of me.  Am I that lame?  I know I'm not the funniest guy in the world but I don't sit on stage and try to collect money for my stupid jokes.  If my friends see Ron White and think of me, I need to change a few things.  I love my friends and I don't want to bore them to death.

Click, next...

iPods are dangerous while you drive but not for the reason everyone is saying.  I have been building a giant playlist recently.  Billboard's top 100 from each year.  I've got five years from the 80's so far.  It's an expensive list to build when I realized that I stopped listening to pop music long, long ago so I'm having to buy a lot of these songs.  Some of the songs I never heard of, some I outright hate.  But I'm a bit compulsive so the list has to be complete.

Driving down, listening to the playlist and enjoying a few songs that I haven't heard since they were hits.  Some of them I barely remember but I'm singing along anyway.  On my right a truck is coming up fast on a slow moving car just in front of me.  I could tell this guy was going to change lanes right into my passenger side.  Impact was imminent; the guy was going to swerve into my lane.  Instead of me changing lanes or hitting the brakes, I reached for my iPod to click next.

I'll be damned if the paramedics will pull my mangled corpse from the wreckage and see that I was listening to KC and the Sunshine Band.  There is no god but if there were, he'd have the sense of humor to create an eternity for me to constantly live out the final moments of terror in my life.  The running soundtrack would be "Baby, Give It Up" over and over and over like I was stuck in a roller-skating rink in 1983.   Nanananananananow, baby give it up, give it up, baby give it up...  Oh yeah, this is Hell!

Sunday, 8.17.8

I haven't posted up here in a few days (I know you all missed me SOOO much right?)  A lot of it has to do with my work schedule and some of it is because I have been thinking a lot about image, reputation, character, projection and the like.  I had a moment last week that made me stop and think about who I am, who I have been and who I pretend to be.  That moment was reinforced by various events throughout the week that was either by coincidence or came about just because I was already focused on the idea.  You never notice how many white pickups are on the road until you buy one right?

I wrote it all up and it was something like six pages.  It reads like the second chapter of a really bad autobiography.  I decided not to bore you with the details.  It comes down to this: I've gone places, tried things and who you see today is the result of everything that came before.  I am happy that I have grown and somewhere in that process, I started thinking for myself.  Checking out new experiences, creating my own thoughts and not just following the latest alluring personality.  This can be devastating to the status quo, but it can also save you from the stupidity of mob mentality.

It has been a hard road, one we all travel at our own pace.  Some people will branch out, some people won't.  I really don't like the word regret.  That is, I don't like to say that I have any regrets.  There have been a few times in my life that I physically cringe when I look back on them but maybe if they hadn't happened, I wouldn't have learned anything.  Some of my past associations may label me as "damaged goods" but those that know me, know how I really feel.

This week I have also been forced to rethink my default positions on a few things.  I am stubborn and loud, quick to throw up half-thought opinions and then hang out and dissect them.  Most of the time finding out that I don't agree with my original assessment.  A few people around me call this "speaking fluent shotgun".  Most of the default positions are set up to make me difficult and pessimistic.  It only makes me look foolish.

I took the time to make the distinction between Skeptical and Cynical.  I am very skeptical but I project being strongly cynical.  I need to stop this.  Just about every time I visit my mother and we talk about anything deeper than what's for dinner, she asks me if I believe people are generally good with some bad tendencies or if I believe people are generally bad and only act good when someone is watching.  I always answer in the negative, that the general public is bad and everyone is out to get what they can.  This is my default position, difficult and pessimistic.  And I am dead wrong.  I know that beyond all my fuckeduptedness, I am a good person.  I know that everyone I love, friends and family are basically good or I wouldn't hang out with them.  How conceited is it to believe that the people I know are good and everyone else is bad?  We focus on the negative and forget that we, the good people, are not alone.  I will no longer play the proud cynic but I will retain my skepticism.

That cynicism led me into a few of those dangerous off-the-path circumstances but that skepticism is what saved me from staying there too long.

But I have avoided the question that started all of this introspection.  Why do I hang on to the past, even when it is something that is no longer part of me?  No that's not the real question, see, I'm trying to avoid the real question because if I give any of the details I have a lot to explain and then you'll get the six page write-up I cut out of here.  No, I will still try to skirt the issue without having to go into detail.

Once I identify something in my life as "undesirable", why do I retain elements of that life even though I left the life behind?

And the only real answer I can give is the one I gave earlier.  Even when something is shameful or regretful, it was still a part of me.  I learned something from the experience.  Why do I hang on to tangible parts of the past?  I'd love to cop out and say that I'm just a pack-rat but that won't work because even when it is brought to light, I still hang on to some of that crap.  The honest answer would have to be memories.

The word nostalgia is too flowery and doesn't fit here.  But memories are still strong.  Especially when tied to music, as this original inquiry was.  Every time I hear a song, I remember something about where I was, who I was with, and what we were doing.  I live in that world a lot.  Music is where I swim.  I keep just about every song I ever had because even if it's crappy music and I never listen to it again, I can see it, play a few seconds of it and instantly, everything from the past floods my brain.  I can feel, smell and taste the past through songs.  Sometimes those tastes are bitter, but they are my bitter memories and I cherish every one of them.  I don't want to get rid of any of my memories, even the ones that make me cringe.  They make me who I am, they keep me honest.

So, any of you who have perused my music collection and have been intrigued by some of the selections I choose to keep on hand, I hope this makes sense.

The person that started this whole process knows the truth.  They know that I am no longer (if I ever really was) tied to the world that is described by a handful of songs I retain.  It was a pit stop on the way here.  The whole conversation was over 20 or 30 minutes on IM and half of it was him telling me that he knows where my heart is and that I don't have to explain myself.  But I do.  Maybe not to him.  That's the cool part about trust and love.  I don't have to explain to him because he knows how I really feel.  So I don't have to explain to him but I do have to explain to myself.  I didn't have a quality answer for the question.  It deserved some thought and that led to a lot more thought.

So am I really explaining myself?  Normally I say that I don't care what people think of me and that is also more BS.  I don't care what people think of me, as long as they don't peek beyond the mask of sanity that I wear in public.  When they are close enough to me that they are able to see the real me, I care a great deal.  The general public gets a big wall, close friends get to see beyond that wall and are restricted by a smaller wall, protecting me from them but more importantly, protecting them from my true form.  There have been few people in my life that I let beyond my secondary wall.  And even fewer that have seen the horror and stayed long enough to love me.  These are the people that know my secrets, these are the people that I can trust, these people are few and far between and I love them.

Let's draw this to a close then shall we?  Trust me, you really don't want six more pages of this crap...  I've been shaken up last week by looking in the mirror.  I've changed for the better over time but I still have a long way to go.  Don't worry, I'm still the fucked up, full of shit, crazy guy that you all love, but maybe I'm just a little more aware of...

Aware of what exactly?  I've been sitting here looking at the keyboard trying to finish that sentence for twenty minutes.  Aware of myself?  No, I'm fully aware of who I am at the moment.  Aware of how I am perceived?  No, you are all smart enough to know that I'm not fooling anyone.  If you spend five minutes with me and don't come to the realization that I am full of shit, then you have to come to the conclusion that I am an asshole.  I know who I've been and while I don't broadcast it, I don't regret it.  Maybe I'll just end that sentence short.  Maybe I'm just more aware.

Saturday, 8.9.8

We've been watching some of the Olympics.  The fencing, the gymnastics, the volleyball.  All very fun and interesting...

Until Teresa was watching the women's swimming tonight.

Every time they got to the end of the pool they turned around and swam back.  They just never stopped!  You'll never see me swim that fast or for that long even if I was being chased by a horny shark with an 18" boner!

I got tired just watching them!

It'll be another short one tonight.  We had a Becca-centric day today.  She wanted to get out of the house and hang out.  And Teresa felt cooped up too.  Me?  I'm out all the damn time, I would have liked to sit and relax, but it was obvious that B (and to a lesser extent, T) missed me and wanted to have fun today.  So we spent the day out and the evening loading her up with more music.  She's getting into a lot of different types of music and is even taking some of my Ministry and Type O-Negative.  Strange little girl that one...

But I do have a thought half-written on the pad.  I had a ghost from my past breeze by last night and even though it caused no real trouble and the person who saw it knows it for what it was, it made me think a lot and I started writing about it.  I'll probably post it up here.  I post every other thought that enters my mind, why not actual thoughtful stuff?

Friday, 8.8.8

Yeah, 8.8.8 and I should probably write something about numerology or maybe something about the Olympics but I can't even think straight right now.

A new "Cthulhu" movie is coming out.  Yay!!!!

But it's starring Tori Spelling?  Unbefuckinglievable.

Who makes these decisions!?!?!?!

Wednesday, 8.6.8

The more "born again" Christians I get to know, the more I thank god I'm an Atheist.