Magically Delicious

Back in June I went on a diet and started exercising, and ever since then I've been running a few times a week (more often in the summer, somewhat less in the fall/winter but still pretty regularly). Tonight I went running in the rain after a nice dinner over at Eric and Lauren's (who this afternoon kindly invited us over for dinner). Usually when I'm running I think about death or something like that, but tonight I was thinking about Art, and about Lucky Charms.

Lucky Charms is the best cereal, and when I was young I didn't really understand why it is the best cereal, I just enjoyed it. But as I got older and tried different things, I began to understand why it is the best cereal. One of the things that I tried that helped me to understand why Lucky Charms succeeds in being the best cereal was attempting to eat all of the oats and leave myself a bowl full of marshmallows. I figured that getting all of the oat-eating out of the way would leave me, at the end of the bowl, with about 10 bites worth of pretty much pure sunshine happiness. But I learned it wasn't true. For me, anyway. Spoonfuls of marshmallows were not as good as a mix. A balance. Of oats and marshmallows.

And here's the really important thing that I've learned since then: it's the oats that make Lucky Charms a cereal that can be regularly and consistently enjoyed--I could eat it every day and still be OK with it. And it's because of the oats. Just marshmallows I would get sick of pretty quick.

I think the Lucky Charms folks get it right because they have more oats than marshmallows. The marshmallows are there pretty much just to spice things up a little bit, but it's really the oats that keep you coming back for a lifetime.

And the same is probably true of Art. For the analogy, I think of marshmallows as things that are florid, poetic, aesthetically beautiful -- the chorus, the hook, the really nice lighting; I think of oats as things that are mundane, boring, simple, quiet. The verses. The general wash.

Bob Dylan songs are, to me, the Lucky Charms of music; it's why they've stood the test of time. There's some great poetry in them, but there's a shit ton of incredibly mundane lines, too. The things are composed entirely of verses and no chorus, for the most part. And even breaking it down further, the lines are generally composed of oat words with a few marshmallows that are the ones that steer the line downward into your gut. And the music behind it all is usually pretty generic, repetitive, unassuming. Oat music.

So, the point of this all, I guess, is just a reminder to myself, to return to: if I start working on more music, I'm gonna focus on the oats.

Larry

I found out today that my uncle Larry died yesterday. He was a good guy. My mom's sister, Pauline, married him when I was around 13 or 14, I think, and he became well-loved by the family real fast. Super-nice, warm, welcoming, always smiling. Always said what was on his mind, and his words showed that there were usually nice things in his mind. I'll miss him, and I know my mom and dad will miss him a lot, too. And of course, my aunt.

But, I was told that he went home last night after a couple of different Thanksgiving dinners, sat in his chair, and a little while later fell over dead. Not a bad way to go. He deserved a gentle death.

That's all I got for right now. Thanksgiving was fine. Black Friday was fine.

Sally the Saw.

I rarely feel the desire to have relations with inanimate objects [anymore], but I bought this compound miter saw for CSC yesterday and I am totally in love. I have wanted the company to have a chop saw since, like, day numero uno, but felt that we were never in a position to spend the cash on one until now-ish. That's probably not true. We probably could've bought one at any point but for some unknown reason didn't. But the point is that now we have one and I love her and I've named her Sally.

It's the day before Thanksgiving, the bestest of all the holidays. I sure will be missing all the cool kids this Thanksgiving. It just ain't the same without them. We are, however, currently in talks planning for a fake-Thanksgiving sometime this spring, which is exciting.

I have made a kick-ass Christmas song mix to play at the store during this exciting holiday season. It includes classics such as "Do They Know It's Christmas?" by Band-Aid, "Last Christmas" by WHAM!, and "All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey. And others. I'll also be bringing in my Herb Alpert X-mas CD, and the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack, a perennial B&N favorite, which for some reason was left off the offical B&N 2008 approved In-Store playlist.

Our radiators are actually working this year. It's a pleasant change.

Have a happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

(should I have put a comma after Thansgiving? Anyone?)

Sweep the Leg

Last night the J-Dog and I practiced a little dancing, then we practiced a little karate (jump kicks), and then we went for a walk. I learned that even though 5 years have passed since I quit smoking, I am unable to walk by a cigarette pack on the ground without stopping to see if it has any cigarettes in it.

I am sad that even though Jeannie and I were practicing our karate moves, I was still unable to entice her to watch the Karate Kid.

Had a dream last night that Sean, Schlueter and I were in rehab. Jeannie was also there, but just because she was visiting. Everybody at rehab liked Sean because he played guitar and sang. Everybody there didn't like Schlueter because she was trying to get everybody to smoke cigarettes, even though we had all quit. And Sean had an affair with our rehab counselor. That was my dream.

I'm gonna buy a chop saw this week for CSC.

Nada.

Not too much going on. Been busy at work. It snowed the other day!

I'll be damned if that big ol' annoying fly isn't still flying around our living room. And it's still annoying.

The Exception That Proves the Rule

The other day at work, a coworker and I were talking about blogs and blogging, and I said that 'the days when nothing happens are when the posts get really interesting.' Hmmmm. Today I'm doubting the veracity of that statement. Not much happened today so let's see if we can make this an interesting post.


Had a whack dream last night involving the Bosco family, Alaska, Sean and Nicole and two guys I didn't recognize, a broken bicycle chain, a funeral, the J-Dog, and staying with my parents in a hotel.

I'm sitting on the couch, and the sun is going down behind the church dome across the street. No birds in sight. A crisp sunset, no clouds, the colors changing in definite lines rather than an explosive bleed.

I used the master key to our building (which I [mistakenly and unbeknownst to others] possess) to explore the now-vacant apartment on the first floor of our building. It's pretty huge, and although the basement is very large and has a washer and dryer, it was also kinda musty and mildewy smelling.

Someone (I think next door) is listening to Tori Amos very loudly. Shame on them. Doubly.

Today at work I was in a good mood, and I'm feeling pretty good about the way things are set up for Christmas. My unsucessful lobbying for people of a few weeks ago has bloomed into success, so I'm hoping that, although X-mas will be busy, it won't be crazy. Or too painful.

Every day I'm looking more and more like Shel. Head balder, beard bushier.

I'm about 7/8's of the way through Infinite Jest. A line that stood out: "It's weird to feel like you miss someone you're not even sure you know." Very true, DFW.

In case you were wondering, I just spent a ridiculous amount of time looking for that quote. I remembered reading it, and it struck a chord, but then when I went to look for it I couldn't remember if I read it recently or a week or two ago or what. I won't say how long it took me to find it, but it was far too long. It's on page 589, if you're interested. I basically reread the first 589 pages in order to find that damned quote.

Alright I'm done.

Dancing in the Dark

The Jeanners and I went out and celebrated our anniversary last night. We started out by going to a Mexican restaurant called El Salto II, which I thought was promising for its El Jimador/Chuy Arzola vibe but the food was kinda bland. Oh well. Then we headed out to the American Legion Hall in Towson for the Friday Night Dance.

A little preface: a while ago, Aimee and I had been talking about how it would be fun to go dancing, but not at a Baltimore meat-market style club, what we were looking for was something more like a wedding reception but without the wedding.

And the Friday Night Dance in Towson was pretty much like a wedding reception, except it was like a wedding reception where everybody was at least a good dancer. I'd say that Jeannie and I were in the bottom 1 percent of the dancers there. But it was a good mixture of ages, from probably 16 to 80, and a nice mix of casual and dressy outfits. And the band was kinda boring but decent enough to dance to. We had a good time, and I'm guessing we'll probably go back again sometime in the future. You up for it, A-Train?

Not much else to report. The weather has turned to usual November weather, and it's been rainy. I got caught in a little one-minute hurricane today walking from my car to work.

Jeannie is making fun of my typing. She is cruising for divort.

Four more years! Four more years!

Today is the fourth wedding anniversary of D-Bone and J-Dog. Please take a moment to stop whatever you're doing and join in the worldwide celebratory dance-a-thon. I sure hope Jeannie takes a minute out of her Physics class tonight to join in the celebratory dance-a-thon. (That squeaky sound you hear is the sound of a lone tear slowly making its way down my cheek.)

There's a big goddamn fly buzzing around our living room! Goddamn it, fly!

So much to write about I don't know where to begin...

Jeez, that big fly is annoying!

Last night Aimee came over for a long-planned and oft-postponed fondue party. Actually, it might have only been postponed once, but we haven't seen Aimee since last February, so this party was a long time comin'. I think it turned out pretty awesome. Hot melty cheese, tofu sausage, roasted cauliflower, apple cubes, delicious bread, muthaf*****' ham cubes, a bright and savory salad, and decadent cheese cake (4 varieties!) for dessert. Plus, we did some great internet research, most of which centered on the Sheen/Estevez dynasties. If you're ever planning a Sheen/Estevez trivia night, and you need to learn some fun-facts about either Ramon Gerardo Antonio "Martin Sheen" Estevez or Carlos Eugene "Charlie Sheen" Estevez, I recommend trucking on over to their respective Wikipedia pages. You will learn things. I especially was fascinated by the info on Martin Sheen's arms and their (the arms') relation to the way he puts on a jacket.

I also learned that Martin Sheen is not the father of all of the 'Young Guns.' Not even Lou Diamond Phillips (who we also researched a little bit.).

We also learned that there really is (sadly) a website called www.deadhookerremoval.com.

So anyway, it was fun. And at the tail end of the fondue party, PKP came over, because he was spending the night at our place because he and I had to be up in Towson early this morning for a performance of Macbeth, and he didn't feel like driving all the way back down to DC last night after his rehearsal. So he came over and parked on the wrong block, and then once he got to our apartment, he sat in this really squeaky chair and squeaked the whole time. Until he moved to a different chair. And then Aimee went home, and we blew up the ol' air mattress for Pat, and then we all went sleepy sleepy.

Then I got up early this morning because I had to be at the theatre at 7am, and I told Pat that I'd see him there and I went out the door (Pat didn't have to be there until 8am). And then I had been working at the theatre for a little while when the stage manager got a call from Pat, who told her that his car had been towed (from the block near but not quite in front of our house. Our neighborhood has fairly complex and bullshitty parking rules.). So that was super sucky and I feel really terrible, because it costs way too much money to get your car from the impound lot in Baltimore. Pat did tell me, though, that he yelled at the guy who was hooking his car to the tow truck (Pat arrived at the car just as it was being towed), and used lots of bad words and yelled at him (the tow guy) in a manner in which he had not yelled at anyone in a very long time. That people on the street turned and stared. This image makes me feel a little better. But I still feel bad.

So anyway, I think that brings us pretty close to up-to-date. I saw gas today for $1.97, the Macbeth performances went off without a hitch (I was just there for technical guidance and to act as a sort of assistant stage manager), I spent the afternoon doing dishes and eating leftover ham cubes, and then I bought a postcard with The Jesus on it to give to my wife. And that big goddamn fly is still buzzing around.

Tomorrow night the Jeanners and I will actually get to celebrate with dinner and questionable American Legion Hall dancing.

Sleepy Tears

Last night I woke up in the middle of the night and I was crying. Weird. Never had that happen before. I had been having a sad/weird dream about my mom dying [at the old power plant where I worked.] [holding 2 Marlon Brando DVD's.][Those are the weird parts]. What's also weird is that just the other night, Jeannie was laughing in her sleep, and I thought about what a strange thing it was that your brain is creating images vivid enough to make your unconscious body start laughing.

Last night before we went to sleep, Jeannie and I were laying in bed, cracking each other up. We decided that it's a good thing we're married, because neither of us could ever find anyone else who thinks we're that funny. She did tell me though, that I have the tendency to use the same jokes over and over again. Duh.

It feels like autumn has lasted an exceptionally long time this year. At least, it seems like the trees have been colorful and beautiful for a long time. I feel like usually by November it's gray and glassy and cold and the trees are black sticks. Not so this year.

Busy day tomorrow at work. All the Christmas stuff gets set up. 'Tis the muthaf*****' season.

I'm your density.

While doing research for this post, I learned that there are 13225 days until the presidential inauguration that will be held on Friday, January 20th, 2045. I will be 67 years old then. God bless the Internet.


It's November 5th, and that tells me three very important things:

1. It's Jack Steinmetz' first birthday. Happy birthday, Jack! Congratulations on some wonderful development!

2. It's Spiff Chambers' birthday. Happy birthday, Spiff! Congratulations on some wonderful development!

3. It's the day Marty McFly went back in time. Let's have a moment of silence as we think about this...


Speaking of Spiff Chambers, he's having a big CD release party this Saturday night, so if you're free, stop on by Maxine's in Girdwood, Alaska. Also, his CD is available from CDBaby. You should buy it.

How about that Barack Obama? Now, he just needs to live in a secure bunker deep beneath the earth and eat only pre-tasted food for the next 76 days. I am happy he won, and now I'm scared for him.

Voting Schmoting.

Only losers vote. So I decided to skip this one. I'll vote in the next one...

I'm just kidding. I voted. Jesus, I'm tired of people telling me to vote. It's like having someone come up to you and telling you to do your dishes, when you're already totally planning on doing your dishes as soon as you get home from work and have a gin and tonic. Get off my fucking back, voter police! I will say that I was pleasantly surprised in that it took me about 15 minutes to walk to my polling place, vote, and walk home. Zero line. It did rain as I was walking there, though. Also, I was harassed by the polling staff. But they calmed down as soon as I put my underwear back on.

Last night we had a company meeting for CSC, although there weren't as many people there as I thought there would be. But I still managed to get all nervous and bumble my way through my portion of the meeting--forgetting what I was going to say, lots of half sentences, etc. I think that any sort of social skills that I might have had in the past have gone away somehow, perhaps from lack of use. The only time that I spend any time with someone other than Jeannie is at work, and work has consisted of 6 years of saying basically the same 5 sentences over and over again. Anyway, I'm having a hard time around people.

Daddy update: he started his drip yesterday and everything went fine. No side effects. Woo-hoo!

I just got a call from my boss that they just caught this little bitch of a shoplifter that I've been wanting to catch for awhile. I really hated her because she was a normal college kid, totally has money and no obvious drug habit to support, just stole stuff cause she didn't want to pay for it. Jeez, if you're gonna steal stuff, at least sell it for drugs.

Addendum

An over-excited Schlueter has caused me to add that the new and exciting information mentioned in the previous post is not, in fact, really new and exciting. It is in no way cross-country move related or baby related. It has to do with changes to the way the theatre company is currently structured and set up. Exciting, no?

My Dream Last Night

So here's my dream last night:

CSC was performing Romeo and Juliet at the St. Louis Municipal Opera, known to those in the know as The Muny. For those not in the know, The Muny is a huge, 10,000 seat outdoor theatre in St. Louis, which performs mostly musicals of the Oklahoma! and South Pacific variety. And in true Muny fashion, CSC's Romeo and Juliet had a 200 member children's chorus, a huge balloon release, and 10 minute scene changes. BJ was there, and during the long scene changes, members of the cast would come out into the audience and we would all hang out. Some folks from grade school and high school were in the audience. Pat played the role of Balthasar, although in his final scene he was beheaded, which I don't exactly remember happening in the real play. Anyway, Pat's final scene, in my dream, was a filmed version of his beheading, and then his beheaded head saying his final lines. I remember thinking to myself that Pat's final, beheaded lines were the best performance that I had ever seen. By anyone. Ever. Unfortunately, because of the long scene changes, most of the audience had left by the time Pat's final scene rolled around.

Well, anyway, it was good to see the Beej and the folks from St. Louis. I wish I got to see more of my friends in places other than dreams.

Not too much else going on. The J-Dog is finishing up 4 days off work, the lucky duckling. On Thursday I had the day off as well, and it was a beautiful fall day, so we decided to drive around looking for some adventure and autumn color, and ended up at Catoctin Mountain Park out near Frederick, MD. Walked around a little bit in the woods, saw a little waterfall that probably would've been more impresssive in the Spring.

Got a CSC company meeting tomorrow night, at which I will be presenting new and exciting information. Lookout!