Thursday, March 29, 2007
The weather this morning is overcast and a little on the wet side. The high temperature will drop about 30 degrees from the previous day’s high. It was in the low 80’s yesterday and it may hit 55 today. It’s that crazy North Carolina weather that I love.
On a day like today, I’d love nothing more than to lay around all day in bed with a special lady. I’m not talking sex… I’m talking about cuddling, talking, listening to music, reading, and watching a movie. The only times when leaving the bed would be permissible… Getting up to use the bathroom, getting a different CD, book, DVD, or getting something to eat or drink.
I haven’t always been the “cuddling” type.
When I was dating “Jones”, she was all about some cuddling. She would slink over next to me and say with her thick and sexy southern drawl, “Lets cuddle.” I wasn’t given time to even form a response before her hands were around me, a leg was draped over my lap, and her head was on my chest.
I would try to pry myself loose and say something like…. “It’s hot. I don’t want your 98.6 next to mine. Okay?”
As I have gotten older, I’ve become more of a cuddler. I was dating “Jones” when I in my 20’s and when I got into my 30’s, the “cuddling bug” bit me.
I started dating my ex-fiancée and that’s when I got the karmic whiplash from the “Jones” era. I wanted to cuddle and she NEVER did. Trying to get close to her was like trying to cuddle up next to a bucking bronco. She would push me and pull away. I fully got what was coming to me.
I don’t know if it’s because I’ve mellowed with age or what, but I’m all about some cuddling these days. Hell, I’m even wearing pink t-shirts to hard rock clubs!
I’ve never said never to pink tees… It just hasn’t been my first choice of color when it comes to my wardrobe.
But today wouldn’t have worked anyway… I have a lot of things on my plate to do.
It took me two days, but I finally finished watching the dreadful film Holiday.
It stars Kate Winslett, Jude Law, Cameron Diaz, and Jack Black. And for some reason, Eli Wallach chose to “slum” it out by appearing in this flick.
Holiday was borderline awful and yet I kept watching. I can’t even begin to tell you the reasons why I watched the whole thing. The film was total dreck and devoid of anything real.
Don’t get me wrong, I really dig a good romantic film, but this one is so sweet that it will make you double over and heave.
Two women (Winslett and Diaz) find themselves at the end of rotting relationships. They find each other online and decide to “swap” houses for a holiday/vacation. Blah, blah, blah… The film moves on until they each find the “love of their life”.
It’s total crap, folks. Jack Black plays a “good guy” who works as a music composer that scores films. And I just can’t take him seriously. Even though he’s trying to be a serious actor in the role, I just can’t get by his facial expressions. They come across as sarcastic and smarmy. He’s totally miscast in this film. He’s become the “new” Leslie Nielson.
If you’re into romantic films and you’d like to cuddle up next to the one you love, by all means check out Happy Accidents. It’s a romantic film with a slight sci-fi edge to it. It’s perfect for you ladies with a guy that’s not into romantic films. And the cool thing… It’s so undiscovered that when you find a copy at Circuit City or Best Buy, you’re only going to shell out about 5 bucks for it.
I gave Holiday 2 out of 5 stars. On the Netflix grading scale, that means I “didn’t like it”. Happy Accidents got the full 5, baby!
As usual… If you’d like me on your Netflix Friends list… Here’s my email address… email@example.com
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Dan Greene 'Magnitude of Memory Loss'
During the summers of my youth, the Sims’ and Lively’s had a kid exchange affectionately known as “cousin swap”. The trade included Paula and myself. The families would gather in Roanoke, Virginia at the halfway point known as Long John Silver’s.
Seriously… Would there be any other perfect place?
Sometimes we’d gather in Hillsville, Virginia where they didn’t have a LJS. The Tastee-Freeze would have to do in those cases.
I would go north to Pickaway, West Virginia with the Lively’s and Paula would come south to the thriving (comparatively speaking here) metropolis of Greensboro, North Carolina with the Sims’.
I love West Virginia and I always have. I dig the fact that you can wake up in the morning to find deer mere feet and inches away from your backdoor. I’ve even seen bears on Grandmother Clarkson’s front porch. I’ve seen bobcats and cougars running wild up there. And I’ve never admitted this to more than a handful of people, but my brother-in-law Kevin and I saw the Mothman once. I should elaborate on that story another time…
Another thing I love about West Virginia… During the summer, you can go to sleep in a house that feels like its on the outskirts of Hell because of the heat and then wake up freezing your ass off looking for any kind of cover along with a few more “Z’s”.
One time when I arrived at Casa de Lively, I immediately took my bags to his room where I was to spend the summer. I walked in and my eyes were instantly drawn to the bananas hanging about a foot and a half above the bed. There was a small ornamental hook screwed into the ceiling from which a thin rope was tied to. At the end of that rope was a small bunch of bananas.
Strange? Yes. So I stood there for more than a few seconds to ponder as to why someone would do such a thing.
When Dan come into his bedroom, I asked, “Dan? Why are there bananas hanging from your ceiling?”
He told me that sometimes he got hungry in the middle of the night. And to satisfy his hunger, he would simply reach up from a prone, sleeping position and grab a banana. He would eat it, toss the skin into a nearby trashcan, and go back to sleep.
I didn’t believe him. I thought he was setting me up for some kind of joke… Until I saw the banana hook being utilized.
I tend to only sleep about 7 or 8 hours and when I wake up, I get out of bed. I cannot lay around doing nothing even if I have the time to do so. It drives me crazy to lay around in bed more than 5 minutes after fully waking up. Unless there’s a lady involved.
Dan will lay there for hours after waking up and it used to drive me insane because I wanted to get out and do something during those summers. I’ve even clocked Dan at over 14 hours in bed when he wasn’t sick or sleeping. He was simply being lazy because he had nothing to do that day.
One morning after waking up, I tried laying there for awhile to see if I could get the hang of it. As I laid there painfully awake, I saw Dan reach up and pick off a banana to eat. He didn’t even open his eyes! After he was done eating it, he tossed the skin into the nearby trash can and went on with his business as usual… Lazing about.
I didn’t know if that was the most pathetic thing that I had ever seen or if it was the most genius thing.
Monday, March 26, 2007
I’ve got some good news! My Aunt Jo isn’t as bad off as we had previously thought!
I got the information third hand and I’m sure all the details weren’t complete.
Here’s what I know as truth… Her granddaughter found her lying on the floor unconscious. She wasn’t responding to anything. She was taken to the hospital were she still didn’t respond to stimuli. She wasn’t brain-dead, but she was in some sort of diabetic coma. She comes in and out of consciousness.
If you’re inclined to say a little prayer for her, that would be appreciated.
Details are still sketchy, but for the most part, I don’t think I’ll be helping to carry her casket this week.
I’ve been meaning to tell you about the best James Bond film EVER!
I got to watch Casino Royale last week and now Daniel Craig is my favorite Bond. This particular James Bond isn’t the cartoon type of character seen in all the previous films. The “new” Bond is a cold-blooded killer. The way he should have been all this time.
The action in Casino Royale is practically non-stop. There aren’t too many gadgets in this film that’s so prevalent in all the others and that’s a good thing. This Bond is a bare-bones, killing-machine spy.
When the new Bond was asked in Casino Royale whether he wanted his martini shaken or stirred, he asked, “Do I look like I care?”
If you haven’t seen it… I urge you to check it out.
And for those of you keeping score… Craig took the top “Bond Spot” away from Roger Moore.
Live And Let Die was my favorite Bond picture up to now. Seriously, you cannot go wrong taking a blaxploitation approach to make a Bond movie cooler. Throw in a little voodoo, a Paul McCartney song, Yaphet Kotto, and a sexy Jane Seymour… And you have a delicious and fun flick. I know it’s a bad one, but it’s WAY better than the horrendous Moonraker.
Mmmmm… Jane Seymour.
Well that’s gonna do it for me today… I still have a lot of things going on at work that need my attention. Netflix and drinking alcohol have to take a backseat again.
Thanks for checking back. I’ll try to keep up with things on this here blog of mine. I still have a story to tell you about concerning my cousin Dan’s “banana hook”.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Guys… Have you attended a rock show wearing a pink T-shirt?
For the first time in my life, I wore a pink T-shirt. And I wore it to Somewhere Else to see Benjomatic perform where tattoos and black T’s run rampant. I think I pulled it off. I offset the shirt with a Miller High Life constantly in my hand. I still think a cigar would have most certainly planted the flag of “maleness”. But it’s not good to overcompensate.
I thought for sure Mike Morrison, formerly of the death metal bands False Prophet and Bush Hog, would have taken someone else’s cigarette to snuff out on my arm. But he didn’t. And quite frankly, he disappointed me when he didn’t even bring it up. I thought for sure that Dianna and I would get a lecture on how Satan was cooler than pink shirts. For some reason, it occurred to me that one man’s evil is another man’s pink shirt.
Since Friday night, I’ve been listening to the musical choice of the day. Yeah, I broke my own stupid and borderline obsessive-compulsive disorder by continuing with UFO ‘Lights Out’.
If you don’t know, I only listen to one musical choice for the day. And there’s plenty of extra weirdness that goes along with making those choices, but I won’t go into all that.
I have always been a casual fan of UFO’s music. When I worked for Capitol Records, I made for damn sure that I got as many UFO CD’s as I could. The members of UFO can’t walk around Europe without being noticed. But here in the States they could easily defecate in an aisle at Toys ‘R Us without being caught.
The UFO Family Tree includes Motorhead, Fastway, The Scorpions, Whitesnake, Waysted, and The Michael Schenker Group.
I’ve had ‘Lights Out’ for at least 8 years and I have never truly listened to it. I knew the hit “Too Hot To Handle” along with the title track, but that was about it.
Man, was I surprised! I now know why UFO’s ‘Lights Out’ album is considered one of the greatest hard rock albums of the 1970’s. Not only does that joker rock out, but it also possesses many songs rich in melodic beauty. From the meaningful lyrics to the Schenker’s powerful and yet understated guitar playing, it is a masterpiece. Feel free to check it out yourself.
And keeping with my tradition that I started with KIX… Those of you with MP3 players, I urge you to download these three UFO tunes wherever you purchase digital music.
“Too Hot To Handle”
Well, I managed to squeeze out a “hush puppy” of an update… But I have to inform you that I may not be able to properly tend my garden with regular updates again this week.
My Aunt Jo doesn’t seem long for this world. I may have a funeral to attend in the very near future. The call about her being on life support came when Dianna and were at Somewhere Else. And ironically, the call came after attending a wake for my neighbor Beverly. I haven’t gotten any updates since the news broke.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
After my long work day, I wanted to get a drink with a friend and shoot a little fecal matter. Instead, I went home and did something that I have been looking forward to… Laundry.
Yeah… I’ve been looking forward to doing a load of laundry. I’ve been dying to try out THIS new product.
I have always loved the smell of Tide and recently have been washing my clothes in cold water to save a little energy. And not to mention the wear n’ tear on my clothes.
Itching to do a load of laundry… Is that crazy? Is it considered “manly”?
I pride myself on good laundry, except for the wrinkles. I don’t really care about fixing those little buggers as much as getting a load good n’ clean.
Last summer, I house-sat for Kristina while she walked all over Europe for a month. When she got back, she asked me how I got her towels so soft.
I know the answer, but I haven’t bothered to tell her. A person that takes great pride in laundry shouldn’t give away their secrets. Right? Besides… If I were to tell her, she wouldn’t respect me anymore.
I know this is a short and weak update… There’s a lot going on for the next two weeks when it comes to Rock 92 / 1075KZL promotions. We’ve got the Daughtry show happening Friday night across from Natty Greene’s and it’s free by the way. And then on March 31st, we’ve got the Easter Egg Festival happening at the Piedmont Triad Farmer’s Market. It’s free too!
I will try to update as best as possible. Just check back every so often to see if I’ve squeezed out a “hush puppy” or something.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
This past weekend, we had a party for my mother who turned 60 on March 14th. For some weird reason, she didn’t want everyone to know exactly which mile she was logging on her odometer. It’s not like having a 40 year old son wandering around the party looking for any hint of alcohol would give it away. But she got over it and decided to be a good and sober sport.
When I turn 60, I will be just like I was on the night of my 40th… Drunk like Otis Campbell…
There were a few family members at the party… Paulette, Grandma Pence, Uncle Byrl, Aunt Sherry, Christine, Lilly, and the grand assortment of in-laws. I had no in-laws for anyone else to pick on because I’m not married. I went alone.
I think this bothered my grandmother just a bit.
I saw her Sunday afternoon and she sat a spell to chew the fat. She asked, “So Eugene, how’s your love life?”
Being the guarded S.O.B. that I am with the folks that actually care about me, I kept things to myself and said, “It’s all right.”
“You’re 40,” she said. “Are you going to be an old maid?”
I looked her in the eye and said with the most serious tone I could muster, “Grandma, I’m gay.”
She knows me pretty well. She knows that I am a maker of jokes and nothing is out of bounds no matter who I’m talking to. Although she did tell me that I nearly gave her a heart attack.
I guess that my 19 year old lover Zach and I will have to wait a little longer to ride around on my inheritance in the new convertible with our scarves waving in the wind like Jackie-O.
For a long time, Netflix has been telling me that I should seriously consider renting the HBO comedy series Curb Your Enthusiasm. I went ahead on put that joker on my queue. I mean after all… It had a shooting star semi-halo over it.
For those you do not know, that star means that according to previous ratings, Curb Your Enthusiasm would be up my narrow alley like a big bodied Cadillac. (Please don’t take that as a “masked” coming out of the closet comment.)
I finally got season one last week and found the time to watch it last night.
Through the first episode that ran just over 29 minutes, I looked like this…
It was like watching a bad public access show.
I LOVE Seinfeld! I think Larry David is very funny and border line genius. I decided to give the second episode a try. Maybe the first one requires getting to know the characters a bit. I shouldn’t be too hasty.
Here’s how I looked after the second episode…
I pulled the plug on Curb Your Enthusiasm. Not only had it been curbed, it was taken outside and put down like an old, gimpy horse.
There were only 2 discs for the first season and I sent them both back. Holy Mother of Liza Minelli, it was boring.
Here’s the friendly invite to add me to your list of Netflix friends… Just use my email address! firstname.lastname@example.org
Monday, March 19, 2007
Here’s the deal… My cousin Dan Lively and I were always birds of a feather. At times, we knew each other so well that we would look at each other and laugh because we were thinking the same thing. It was usually about making the same joke.
Dan and I were also two very different people. Not that we were so different from each other, but different from the “normal” folks around us. Dan was the nut willing to put himself in harm’s way for the laughs of any prank or joke and I was the straight man with the zingers.
Those who “got us” would hang around and enjoy the ride. Those who didn’t simply dismissed us as “dumb asses”. We caused trouble for our parents, trouble for those whose care we were left in, and damage to a church once.
Dan lives in West Virginia. We don’t see each other that often, but when we do, we generally attract an audience. Whatever we did, we usually attracted a crowd.
I’m not sure about the year, but I’m guessing that what I’m about to tell you happened in the late 70’s.
Our Grandmother Clarkson (“Maw-maw”) was working as the housekeeper for a lawyer and former a candidate for Governor of West Virginia, Jim Sprouse. The Sprouse’s lived near Union, WV on a nice little spread complete with a mansion on the hill. It may not have been a mansion per se, but to my young and impressionable eyes, it was.
Our grandmother lived in the smaller and older Sprouse House on their spread. I don’t really think that it was so much smaller as it was older, but I found the place magnificent. The rooms still contained the furniture and many of the items decorating them. It was like strolling through a museum. It was a place of endless discovery that I believed was occasionally visited by the folks that once lived there. I never broke or took anything because I never felt alone in that house. And it wasn’t a scary type of never feeling alone, it was a peaceful place.
One Christmas or Thanksgiving (I can’t remember), the majority of the family got together for our celebration. After a couple of hours of boredom and not being able to explore the house (after all… We did damage a church once), Dan and I hatched a plan to keep ourselves busy and entertained.
We got ourselves two large glasses to fill with every non-toxic liquid or semi-liquid in the house. After a little bit of every non-toxic substance was collected from the house, we were going to drink it.
We started in the refrigerator with milk, water, mustard, mayonnaise, ketchup, orange juice, soy sauce, raw eggs, and anything else considered a liquid or semi-liquid. From the cupboards we found other delights such as red and white wine. There was also food coloring, vanilla extract, and other liquids used for cooking or baking. Even medicines like Pepto-Bismol and cod liver oil went in the brew. If it was in a somewhat liquid state, it was going to be mixed in.
We were like pied pipers strolling around the house with our glasses and the younger kids in tow.
Every now and again, Dan or myself would stroll into the group of adults to ask if something was “non-toxic”. For some reason, it didn’t attract too much attention. Perhaps it was because they secretly wanted us dead. Dead and in the ground where we would cause them no more trouble or embarrassment.
We ended up with two big messes that looked like congealed blood. I’d say that we each gathered up at least 16 ounces of the worst smelling, non-toxic, semi-liquid concoction the world had ever seen.
With all the items found worthy and non-toxic to be included in our elixir, it was now time to drink. We both found our gulps to be quite disgusting and we managed to swallow it. The foulness of the drink caused us to make Mr. Yuck like faces…
The audience of younger cousins and siblings all howled with disgust during our tasting. If I recall correctly, I think my cousin Paula actually gagged while watching us drink.
We offered the mixture for tasting, but only one brave soul stepped up to bat. Dan’s youngest sister Melanie (I think around 6 years old at the time) bellied up to the bar and took a slug. And what disgusted us the most, especially Dan and me, she took another drink and proclaimed it “good”.
It was a stupid idea that turned out to be great fun and a lasting memory for all who witnessed the event. I offer you this suggestion… Do not try it yourself.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Yes. Spice Girls’ ‘Spice’ is the musical choice of the day. Feel free to say whatever you want. Those of you with Poison, Partridge Family, or even the occasional “Weird” Al Yankovic CD’s in your music collection.
The Spice Girls were awesome and I will defend them on my deathbed without falter. If you don’t believe me, open your mind and let the ‘Spice’ flow. Luscious and funky grooves sung by four angels of the Apocalypse. Once you rip off that bandage and get it over with, you’ll feel a WHOLE better.
The Spice Girls did it the same way The Beatles did. They did it the same way The Osmonds did. They did it the same way KISS did. The Monkees, The Bee Gees, Hanson, and Pink Lady.
Don’t remember Pink Lady? Google it, Kojak.
There is great success with creating different personalities within a rock group. The Spice Girls, The Beatles, KISS, and The Monkees are four parts. Choose your flavor and enjoy. Four parts seems to be the “magic number” when it comes to great commercial success in music. The Bee Gees and Hanson flirted with 3 parts. Good in theory. Following the “holy trinity” belief, but it’s unnatural without at least two women (Tony Orlando and Dawn). The Osmonds were like an army of ants. An Osmond would fall by the wayside and there would be another to take its place. All young, fresh from the farm, and ready to face that slaughterhouse. You couldn’t keep up with them until Donny & Marie put the brothers group out of business.
The Spice Girls were vanilla funk that came in a pretty package. They co-wrote every damn song on the album. They sing very well. They’re attractive. There are four distinct personalities. Go ahead and name them all. You know. And with their video for “Say You’ll Be There”, they pay homage to the film Vanishing Point. If given a chance, you will see their greatness.
And speaking of Vanilla… I miss Vanilla Coke.
I really like Crest’s Vanilla Mint toothpaste.
I’ve toyed around with those whitening tooth pastes with cinnamon and orange, but damn if the vanilla mint isn’t pleasurable.
When I was a kid, there were only two flavors… Regular and mint. There were gels like Close-Up and other knockoffs. And when Aim came out, it fired up my imagination. Three flavors all in one toothpaste! My God, it was pornographic!
And when we didn’t have Aim in the Sims household, I would layer and mix whatever was in the house to invent my new toothpaste and gel breakthrough. Hey, I was around 8 or 9 years old. Give me a frakkin’ break.
Tomorrow I’ll tell you about the time my cousin Dan Lively and I concocted the worst liquid/semi-liquid cocktail ever created.
Friday, March 16, 2007
This past Sunday I discovered something wonderful and I can’t wait to try it on a full-scale level, baby. It involves hot dogs and flour tortillas.
Before the NASCAR race on Sunday, I was getting a little hungry and decided it was time for lunch. I had just stepped through the door as the green flag flew for the first time. I wanted something to eat faster than Jeff Gordon wanted to find out who fathered his wife‘s child. I opened up the fridge and immediately settled on a hot dog.
I didn’t have any hot dog buns and I didn’t feel like wrapping a dog up in a slice of wheat bread. But in my condiments drawer, I knew there was a package of flour tortillas. I decided to coat my dog with ketchup and roll that baby up in a tortilla.
Surprisingly, it was delicious!
Now I have a burning blue fever to make hot dog tortillas complete with cheese, chili, and whatever else I can think of. You know, the “normal” stuffs that go on hotdogs.
If you’re a regular reader of this blog, then you know that I’ve limited my intake of fried food items. The side benefit has been weight loss without really trying.
I’ve been trying to work out on a regular basis, but my job isn’t good for any form of regularity. I still drink the same amount of beer, but I’ve been eating better. A little better.
My clothes have been hanging off of me and I had to put another notch in one of my belts. And when I went over to Christine’s house to watch the last new episode of Veronica Mars that I missed, she noticed that I had lost more weight since the last time we were face to face.
But all of it didn’t really make sense to me. I know from my clothes and from the observations of others I had indeed lost weight. The scale in my bathroom told me otherwise. It would see-saw back and forth, so I stopped paying attention to it. I hadn’t set foot on it since last November.
The other day after Christine’s comment, I decided to get a reading on the scale. And according to that scale, I had only dropped two pounds. Even with knowing that my clothes fit differently, my heart dropped faster than Paris Hilton’s panties. It wasn’t like I was actively pursuing weight loss, it was just a byproduct of semi-clean living.
I explained all this to my father and he suggested that the scale was malfunctioning. I tried his and the reading blew my mind! Since November, I had dropped 30 pounds! And all without really trying! Just a change of diet and trying to work out on a regular basis.
So I tried experimenting with my scale by weighing a 5 lb. bag of sugar. It came up as 12 pounds. I put my nephew Preston on the scale and he came up 73 lbs. when I know he only weighs 49. I then weighed the bag of sugar again and it came up as 17 pounds. There wasn’t even a constant figure the scale was off by.
I feel like I should really start taking the weight loss thing seriously and keep going.
I’m 40 years old and I still do dumb things from time to time. As most women have noticed, I’m in the male half of the population and according to them, men never grow up.
Please keep that in mind.
I wanted a Coke pretty bad yesterday. I only had a $20 on me with absolutely no change. I didn’t want to go “bumming” through the station in order to satisfy my carbonated desire.
Then, as if sent by God, 1075KZL’s Mike Klein walked through the break room door. In his hands he held up a package of Pop Rocks. I told him that if he bought me a Coke that I would be willing to work out the urban legend of Pop Rocks, the soft drink, and certain death. You can read about it right here.
So I emptied the contents of Pop Rocks into my mouth and poured in a swig of Coca-Cola Classic. There was an immediate release of carbon dioxide in my mouth. I felt like Superman containing a mushroom cloud of an atomic explosion in his mouth. I fought the gaseous monster that bubbled at the top of my throat and managed to swallow it. I followed that up with another large swig of Coke.
It felt like something just under my sternum was growing inside of me. It was like I took a sponge pill the size of a Tylenol tablet and once inside me, it grew to the size of a grapefruit. Klein was laughing his ass off as pressure grew a little uncomfortable in my gizzard.
I burped excessively for about ten minutes and I lived to tell the tale.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Last Tuesday evening, Kristina and I attended the Carolina Classic Films Series screening of ALIEN at the beautiful Carolina Theatre in downtown Greensboro. I was excited for three reasons… I have never seen this film on a big screen, this marked the first time the Carolina Theatre implemented its new Surround Sound system, and they serve beer. I mean really… A classic flick in Surround Sound in an historic joint with a few adult beverages… What’s not to love?
At first, we didn’t know if we were gonna make it. Kristina had a busy day with lots of things on her plate, but I got the call and everything was looking A-Okay. Roger that!
I met her at Shucka’s Alley just across the street from the Carolina Theatre. I got there early enough to get a couple of beers flowing through my system. They were out of one of my favorites, Old Town Brown from Natty Greene’s, but they did have Salem Gold from Foothills Brewery in Winston-Salem. And minutes before Kristina’s arrival, I ordered her a glass of white wine to get some alcohol in her blood stream to caress those corpuscles with sweet intoxication.
It’s not that I wanted to get her drunk. It’s because the film, as I remember it, is a little on the boring side. And in my opinion, alcohol can make things seem better than they are. If my love life doesn’t prove that theory, then nothing does.
I was a kid when the movie came out, about 13 years old. I was in seventh grade at Northwest Guilford Junior High where I remember “Mark” constantly drawing the alien in Mrs. Miller’s fourth period Social Studies class. He was in love with that film.
Me? I was more into KISS, television, and trying to get to the “on deck circle” in order to hit a home run with the ladies.
I had pretty much given up on science-fiction types of things because girls, for the most and prettiest part, didn’t give a damn about it. I was on a mission and trimming the sci-fi fat was necessary in order to appeal to the fairer sex.
Sadly, KISS’ popularity waned BIG TIME a few years after that, but I was still the constant fan that wouldn’t die. That love for KISS worked against me and my homerun goals because KISS was something for geeks and losers. So eventually I gave ALIEN a try when it premiered on network television.
My God… I thought the flick was one of the most boring things in the world, but I toughed it out. Parts of it were cool, but I didn’t see why “Mark” and some of my other friends like Jonathan Everett loved it so much.
When the sequel ALIENS came out, Jonny boy was hot and heavy about that one. He kept telling me about its greatness and I dismissed his opinions the same way the ladies dismissed me.
But one day, Jonathan and I were hanging at his house eating out of a 5 gallon drum of Planter’s Peanuts from Pace Warehouse watching a little HBO. Up next was ALIENS. With nothing else to do, I watched it and I was impressed. It was pretty damn cool.
A few years later, I rented ALIEN on VHS from Action Video and nothing had changed. It was still a pretty boring flick.
The alcohol didn’t really help the other night at the Carolina Theatre. Kristina and I weren’t really that “into” it. We had resorted to making snide comments like Joel and the robots on Mystery Science Theatre 3000.
Kristina made a couple of trips to the concession area for more beer and vino. When we arrived, I wanted a seat near the aisle so that I could get up without trampling over someone in order to lessen my bladder. She wanted to sit in the very middle of the row. You know who won…
Eventually my bladder started hollering at me like Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ recording of “I Put A Spell On You”. On my way out, I knocked over a tiny plastic wine cup that rolled around on the concrete floor of the darkened and once quiet theatre. In the bathroom, I found the reasons why cows look forward to giving milk (get that reference, Brad K.?).
I walked back into the theatre to find the scene where the cast were searching for the little monster than burst from John Hurt’s chest. Believing in the NHL rule of waiting until stoppage of play, I stood by the door until the scene reached it’s ending. I easily found my row and made my way back to my seat finding another small plastic wine cup to knock over once again with my foot. In my mind, it probably sounded to the rest of the audience as if a couple of drunken hillbilly’s came out of the woods to come see the big, black space lizard moving picture show.
The biggest laugh came when a spaceship door closed and there was a familiar design on it. I leaned over to Kristina and said, “This scene brought to you by Purina.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” she whisper shouted before bursting into laughter heard throughout the theatre.
No one complained about us or even turned around to “shush” us. A guy behind us did get up and move to another seat, but I think it was because he couldn’t see over my bulbous head.
Before leaving the theatre, I hit the bathroom once again. A guy was about to wash his hands the same time I was and asked, "Remember when this was considered an action/thriller?"
Apparently he felt the same way I did.
Whatever happened to the “Mark” guy?
He was convicted of murder or manslaughter (I tried googling him to no avail for fact checking) a short time after graduation. Merely a coincidence? You be the judge.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
The Original KISS Army tribute band will be making a stop in Burlington at The Raven Saturday night, March 17th.
If you have never experienced a tribute band before, it can be a little unsettling. The bands generally pretend to be the real band in a lot of ways. And I think that’s one of the many reasons I dig them so much. I’ve seen the Led Zep tribute bands, a Guns N’ Roses tribute band, a Van Halen tribute band (very weak), a Grateful Dead tribute band (Dark Star Orchestra last month), and scores of KISS tribute bands.
In my opinion, the KISS tribute bands have been the best of the lot. They give you the KISS “experience” on a much smaller scale and in my opinion, no one does it better than the Original KISS Army tribute band.
If you have the slightest interest in seeing this band, I suggest that you act upon it. It’s great fun! KISS is my all-time favorite band and even some of their hardcore fans scare me with their overzealousness and party-like-I’ll-die-tomorrow attitude when at tribute shows. In other words, there’s a show in the audience as well.
I found this in my mail slot at work last week…
Before Valentine’s Day, someone left me some candy in that mail slot. I said something about it to our ass-kicking receptionist Nicole and she said, “Maybe you have a secret admirer.”
“C’mon..,” I said with a raised eyebrow. “No one’s that desperate.”
By summoning up my Columbo-like detective skills, I will be looking for anyone reading with braille at work. It’s quite obvious that they’re legally blind.
Over the weekend, I managed to watch The Marine starring WWE SuperStar John Cena. I was expecting a bad movie, but I didn’t expect one this damn good!
That’s right! The Marine is a great bad film!
The worst parts involve John Cena’s acting. He may be able to feign injury in the WWE squared circle, but he cannot pass muster when it comes to dramatic roles.
Cena plays a beefed up Marine that’s kicked out because he disobeyed orders to save his fellow jarheads. He only knows how to be a Marine… blah, blah, blah… Same old storyline. He arrives back home to the little hot, blonde wife with the most god-awful musical idea for an action picture.
Here’s how I see it… The director is talking with the script writer and musical composer about how to score this tender and touching reunion type of love scene… The director says, “I want something to elevate the love between the two characters.”
“Yes, I see,” says the writer. “I can visualize a scene reminiscent of Titanic.”
“How about pan flutes for the love scene?” asks the composer who may have been half-joking.
“BEAUTIFUL!” shouts the director who just knocked over his chair. “Get to it!”
Let me tell you folks… That scene complete with pan flutes is so laughably bad that it deserves an award.
We’ve established that Cena isn’t made for drama, but he’s pretty good at the action stuff. And The Marine holds up pretty well with the action. The director may not know squat about drama, but he knows how to compose over-the-top action scenes complete with KISS-like explosions.
And I also have to give credit to those who are willing to poke a little fun at themselves…. Like Robert Patrick.
Patrick plays a deliciously bad guy with great lines. When two of his cronies are shooting at the unstoppable Cena who is in pursuit driving a Highway Trooper’s car, one turns in Patrick’s direction (he’s driving the SUV) and says, “Who is this guy? The Terminator?”
The camera focuses on the rearview mirror where we see Patrick’s eyes cut back to that individual with a harsh look. For those who do not know… Robert Patrick played the liquid-Terminator in T2. And they also reference that when he replaced Duchovny on the X-Files.
The Marine is what some call a “drive-in classic”. It’s big, dumb, and a lot of fun. I highly recommend it, especially if you’re a fan of “bad” films. I gave it 4 out of 5 stars on Netflix.
Monday, March 12, 2007
I had a couple of days last week where I was in a foul mood. I mean a FOUL mood. And for some reason, there was no reason at all. My foul mood couldn’t be explained. I wasn’t angry with anyone, but I took it out on a lot of friends. I wasn’t angry with my job and it didn’t affect my performance. I think I was just in a funk. I’ve been told that even we guys have a monthly where our biorhythms get in an uproar.
Friday night, I got home and put on a self-prescribed compact disc… KIX ‘Blow My Fuse’. It made me feel a little better and I had a good Saturday afternoon at the Summer Camp Craze & Kid Expo.
And when I got home on Saturday, I doled out another self-prescription… KIX ‘Midnight Dynamite’.
That, my friends, did the trick. After realizing its defeat, my bad mood packed it bags and decided to move along.
KIX was the band that should have been bigger than they were. It may sound bad, but I’m kind of glad they didn’t achieve Bon Jovi-like success. KIX are kind of like a secret.
Their first two albums were kind of hard rock meets new wave with a splash of punk attitude. They were very good albums with close resemblance to Hanoi Rocks. The third one ‘Midnight Dynamite’, was their masterpiece. It meshed all those things together as their rock got harder. To put it in perspective… Think AC/DC with funk, heavy melody, and a chorus of cheerleaders.
‘Midnight Dynamite’ was produced by Beau Hill who gave Ratt the fuel it needed to conquer the Earth in 1984. Every song on ‘Midnight Dynamite’ is a keeper. And with listening to it again last Saturday, I noticed several things that I never noticed before. Not only does the album beg to be played loud, but with that volume I noticed how well the songs are crafted. Often at times, the guitars are all doing something different and layered perfectly over each other. I also noticed how Donnie Purnell uses melody on the bass guitar during the song “Walkin’ Away”. I have probably heard that album over a thousand times and it took a bad mood to really listen to it… To hear it.
What I’ve always liked about KIX was their sense of humor. Sly humor abounds on songs from ‘Midnight Dynamite’… “Walkin’ Away” (…And I get my hair just right…), “Lie Like A Rug” (Lie in the bedroom… Lie in the tub… LIE!…. You lie like a rug…), and “Sex” (…My door’s always open, my phone’s on the hook… My mailbox is waiting, my name’s in the book… Got ads in the paper, but nobody cares… Apartment is lonely, the action is upstairs…).
The jewel case to my CD has probably seen the same amount of miles that I’ve taken to see KIX perform live. The surface has many scratches, fingerprints, and a few odd stains. The edges of the jewel case aren’t as sharp as they once were. My CD has even outlasted 3 cars during that time.
Whenever KIX was within 150 miles of Greensboro, I would be there. I even met them by chance at a Wendy’s in Raleigh.
On the east coast, KIX owned the hard rock clubs. When they hit the stage, they were in your face. You didn’t see them wandering around back stage until they were announced. You heard the announcer and the next thing you knew, KIX came from behind the stacks of amplifiers and boxed your ears with their opening song. They didn’t dilly-dally. They were the Goddamned KIX band (their words, not mine) and they were taking no prisoners.
KIX always takes me back to good times. I remember riding around with Tracy Thornton in his convertible MGB listening to a cassette tape of ‘Midnight Dynamite’ during the summer of 1985. I remember hearing it in Jonathan Everett’s Camaro as we rode with the windows down. I remember driving around with the windows down and cranking that joker up in my ‘73 Gran Torino. I remember seeing KIX with my friends. I remember seeing the same people (you know… those you see all the time, but never actually talk to) traveling from show to show just to see KIX.
‘Midnight Dynamite’ is definitely “road tunes”. I highly recommend it for highway use or rural roads where you can roll those windows down.
Feel free to purchase a copy of ‘Midnight Dynamite’ for yourself this spring. Get the CD or download it. Let the album blossom in your music collection.
And who knows… It may just turn into your “bad mood chaser” or “happy pill”.
For those who only want a taste of KIX on your Ipods and other digital devices… I suggest downloading these three songs wherever you purchase MP3’s.
“Yeah, Yeah, Yeah”
Friday, March 09, 2007
It appears that the ACC Tournament has fired up and March Madness has reached fever pitch. It seems that everyone around me is caught up in this college basketball frenzy.
I couldn’t care less about any college sports, especially basketball. I think I figured out my reasons a few years ago…
While growing up, my neighbors around the block would shoot hoops in their driveway. They would include me and when I started to play, I would have to take off my glasses so they wouldn’t get broken. I am incredibly near-sighted. The net would constantly disappear and reappear depending on how close I was to it. My shots were usually “air balls” or just plain bad. I received the basketball nickname, “Dead Eye” Sims.
I tried watching basketball, but it just never excited me. To me, it is almost as boring as watching soccer. And the worst part, when there are only a few minutes left in a game, it can take 30 minutes to play out that remaining time because everyone keeps calling a time-out. Good God! Just get it over with!
I made the mistake of dating a Duke fan for almost 6 years. I didn’t care that she watched basketball and she knew that when she started talking about it… I would look something like this…
Years ago during the Bobby Hurley reign, Duke were playing UNC-G at the Greensboro Coliseum. And being the guy that I am, I purchased two tickets to this event in order to surprise her.
When that day came, I took her to dinner and then we headed to the Coliseum. She didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing. Once I pulled into the parking lot she had a look on her face as if she just got a whiff of dog crap and she asked, “We’re going to the Duke game?”
“Yes,” I said. “I thought you’d enjoy it.”
“But they’re playing UNC-G,” she said with her unmistakable tone of displeasure. “They’re NOBODY and no one cares about this game.”
I was a little hurt that she didn’t care about how much I thought she’d enjoy the event. I was going to something that I consider boring and a waste of good television hours in order to make her happy and it didn’t.
Once we got into the Coliseum, I handed her my keys knowing that she couldn't drive a stick and said, “I’m getting drunk.”
Last night at our Hooter’s remote, I was asked several times about previous games during the day. I had no clue and had just found out the ACC Tournament had started already. When the Tournament is in Greensboro, I try to keep up with when the game times so that I can avoid the Coliseum traffic.
Why folks care about that stuff is beyond me.
And ladies, this may be hard to believe, but I’m single. I also know how to put the seat and lid back down on the toilet.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
I finally got to watch the premiere of the new NBC show The Black Donnelly’s. I must say this… The show WILL not last long on network television. Why do I say this?
Because it’s so damn good!
I will try to remain positive that this season’s disenchanted American Idol viewers will fire up their brains and watch something smart, intense, and better than any drama that I’ve currently seen on network television.
Weeks before its maiden voyage on NBC, Netflix kept offering the DVD of the pilot for The Black Donnelly’s. I think Brad K. got it, but I won’t swear to it, dammit. Christine constantly reminded me about it and repeatedly told me how much she looked forward to seeing the show.
Monday nights are fairly busy for moi… I’m taping Monday Night Raw at home for over 2 hours. And at work I’m taping 24 and now The Black Donnelly’s. While all this VHS taping is going on (yes, I’m still in the stone age without a DVR), I’m watching Two And A Half Men. My Monday evenings are booked solid.
If you haven’t seen it, make time for The Black Donnelly’s. I’m pretty sure you can check out full episodes on NBC’s website.
Last night, I heard some disturbing news on Fox 8’s Ten O’clock News… The bee population in North Carolina has decreased 30 to 40 percent!
Do you realize what this means?
Bees are very necessary when it comes to plant reproduction, or in other words, food. If you Google "bee deaths" you’ll find all kinds of frightening information. One site even gave the figure that 90% of the feral bee population in the US have decided to call it quits and have walked off the job (died). Bees are nearly extinct in England.
I don’t know about you, but I’m a little frightened by this. When you have the frogs (nature’s once plentiful hamburger) disappearing and bees dying off in great numbers, we have a problem.
No one knows for certain why colonies of bees are dying. It has happened in the past, but never to the extent that’s occurring now.
I recall a time in Mrs. Daniels 7th grade Biology class at Northwest Junior High when I heard Albert Einstein's thought on the importance of bees. I remember it as something like this... "If the bee were to disappear off the face of the Earth, man could be gone in 4 years." I'll never forget it and I simplified his quote like this... “When the bees are gone… We’re dead.”
It bothers me to think that a man of science, Rock 92’s very own Weather Dave Aiken, dismisses Global Warming like a non-alcoholic beer. And it bothers me to think that most of our Rock 92 listeners call in during the 2GNC show and voice their support with Weather Dave.
How much proof do we need? When are we going to take action?
Even if what’s happening isn’t Global Warming, perhaps it’s the theory that we’re closing in on another Ice Age, we should do something to find out. Instead of hand wringing and talking about it, we should pool our resources and find out “WTF” is going on. We need the naysayer’s opinions as much as the doom and gloom types like Al Gore. Balance and checks are important, but those who generally dismiss Global Warming simply say “nay” and walk away leaving nothing to help figure out the problem.
I’ll be honest with you… The disappearance of frogs had me worried. The mysterious bee deaths or Colony Collapse Disorder has me scared. I wonder how much gas is in the tank.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
I have watched the Borat DVD from Netflix and I declare it… One of the funniest films that I have ever seen!
The laughs just kept coming with that flick. Even the “surplus footage” was hysterical. I don’t know how much of the film was real or how much was staged. And in all honesty, it doesn’t matter! Borat is complete genius!
I’m just sorry that I didn’t get to see it at one of our fine Cineplex’s in order to gauge the reactions of everyone else in the theater. I think the last DVD that made me laugh that hard was Team America: World Police. So I’m guessing that if you’re a fan of Team America, you won’t have any problems with what goes on in the film Borat.
I gave that joker 5 out of 5 stars on Netflix!
The scene where Borat goes out in front of a rodeo crowd in Salem, VA to shout out his praise for the war on terrorism and President Bush was priceless.
Rent it! Buy it! Do whatever it takes to see Borat.
A few years ago, we had a salesman at Dick Broadcasting Company (WKRR/Rock 92 & WKZL/1075KZL) by the name of Ryan Shelton. Ryan is ambitious and personable. In salesperson’s terms, Mr. Shelton is gold.
Ryan would often ask me to come and help out at his remotes for establishments with adult entertainment. I only met him once at Christie’s Cabaret because I thought he was serious about needing my help. I had to work a van appearance at the Winston-Salem Warthogs game hours before I had to be at a remote for Miller at The Blind Tiger (one of my favorite places for live music).
I got to Christie’s to meet Ryan and from what I could tell, he didn’t really need my help as much as he wanted some company.
Now, as I have written before, I’m not all that fond of gentleman’s clubs because they make me a little uncomfortable. So with seeing that Ryan didn’t really require my assistance with anything, I decided to go some place where the beer is a little cheaper. That was the only time I ever hit a gentleman’s club with Ryan.
Ryan also had Chester’s as one of his clients. Ryan helped out with their car shows and the other events they had during the years. Ryan was constantly providing his adult entertainment clients with the best service possible. In essence, Mr. Shelton is a dynamo.
After I wrote about hitting Chester’s with Kristina, her mother Ann, and stepfather Miles… An eagle-eyed Brad “Hinzy” Hines noticed something odd in one of the pictures on the Chester’s website. If you look closely on the left hand side, you will see Ryan Shelton’s face reflected in the mirror.
For some reason, I think that’s hysterical.
Ryan left us over a year ago for the fertile green pastures in Tampa, FL. At times, I would open up the back of the Rock 92 van and say his name over and over again with an avalanche of curse words. He usually left it a complete disaster. But I miss the joker.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Roxy, my truck, is getting on my nerves. I got her back with a new engine and I do love her… What’s driving me crazy is her “new noise”. Since the engine change, her belt has been making the most awful racket. It sounds like the giant ants from the movie Them!.
You can hear me coming from 500 yards away. When I drive by folks that are out walking their dogs, I can see the animals ahead of me turning their heads in order to see what’s coming their way. Just the other day when I got close, a dog barked at me.
I know deep down inside, it will go away soon. It’s just a matter of time.
Yesterday when I took my father to King to pick up the Taurus Wagon (remember the water pump that went out because I rode in it), the noise seems to have gotten louder. Only the stereo jacked up to Motorhead levels keeps me from piercing my eardrums with my truck keys.
Then today it was completely different. The sound was there when Roxy was idling low and it was very tolerable. But when I got some RPM’s going, the sound got higher in pitch and it could be heard over my musical choice of the day, Muddy Waters ‘Rolling Stone’. Muddy and the ants from Them! really do not go well together. It’s unnatural and unpleasant. It’s like tuna fish mixed with peanut butter.
And with the day that I had, what I need is a tall glass filled with ice and Jim Beam Black.
Now to my Netflix… The Illusionist was really good and much better than I expected. It’s a romantic little flick that’s perfect for men who don’t care for romance flicks. I gave it 4 out of 5 stars!
I have Borat waiting to be screened in the next room. And as soon as I finish this update, that baby will be ON!
I know…. This is a short update, but I’m on the run all this week. I meant to get something in yesterday, but it obviously didn’t happen. Please accept my apologies and thanks for keeping check.
Here’s the usual call out for new Netflix friends…. email@example.com
Sunday, March 04, 2007
The Academy has passed out the Oscars and Babel won the Best Picture Award and maybe a few others. I don’t care about how many awards the film has garnered and I don’t watch any award shows. Award shows are generally boring and I have found that many of the winners, for the most part, suck.
I’d rather read the list of winners the next day which is often found in the newspaper. It saves me a lot of time and allows me to spend that time doing something else unproductive and entertaining.
When the film Babel came out, our sister station 1075 KZL had a premiere screening that I couldn’t attend. And now after watching 20 minutes of the film, I’m very glad that I didn’t waste my time in the theater.
Babel failed my 20 minute test.
I got the DVD from Netflix over a week ago, but I haven’t had the time to watch it. Last night after work, I had a block of time to give it my full attention. But that attention kept drifting off and was starting to focus on a nearby clock instead.
Babel started off in Morocco where some cat sold a rifle for some dinero and a goat. The kids using the rifle wanted to test the limits the seller boasted about and fired upon a bus. As it turns out, it shot Brad Pitt’s wife. Then the film ended up in Japan, I think, with young women playing volleyball.
I didn’t know where the film was going and I didn’t care. I saw the 20-minute mark on the screen and that joker was jettisoned out of my player faster than Paris Hilton can strike a pose.
It was painfully boring. Here’s a picture of me watching the first 20 minutes of Babel…
I immediately put in The Illusionist to wash the taste off my palette and I managed to watch about an hour before my eyes started getting heavy. I will finish it up after this update.
The Illusionist seems like a very interesting film.
Here’s an interesting article found reprinted in today’s Greensboro News & Record.
It’s a future that I don’t like.
Now don’t get me wrong… I like technology as much as the next cat. When the CD came out, I was very excited about getting my hands on them. Yes, I loved my vinyl albums and I still have all of them today.
I have, for the most part, resisted the MP3 players.
I can see how convenient they are, but I cannot get behind purchasing music without some sort of tangible thing to hold in my hands. It just doesn’t feel right. For you to understand… It would be like going to your favorite restaurant and having them serve you through an IV drip.
There’s no joy associated with downloaded music that for years came along with a package containing information about the producer(s), the songwriting credits, special guests, and liner notes.
The kids, and perhaps I’m wrong, today don’t care about that stuff. They just want to get it and go. And to me, that attitude has about the same amount of intimacy that a cheaply produced pornographic DVD possesses.
Just call me a CD/Vinyl romantic. I will still purchase CD’s while they remain part of the musical landscape. And when I purchase that MP3 player within the next month, I will take great care in converting those cherished songs from my CD collection into MP3’s.
As Mick Jagger once sang… “What a drag it is getting old…”
Friday, March 02, 2007
All right… A busy week is coming to a close. Not only have I been doing my own thing, I have also been working with the 2 Guys Named Chris show the past two days. I’ve been busy and yet I’ve been having fun.
Thanks for checking back every so often looking for an update. I appreciate your patronage.
It’s the first of the month and I have changed my profile picture on my MySpace page. Changing the picture on the first of the month is something I plan on keeping up with. So drop on by and check it out. And if you have your own MySpace page, by all means, lets spread the cybernetic love and make friends.
I didn’t realize that having a page on MySpace could be such a hassle. There have been friends and coworkers expressing their concerns about how they’re placed on my friend’s list. I thought, for some crazy reason, alphabetical order would be the best way to handle it. Many don’t see it that way.
Some coworkers think they should have priority over others. Some friends believe they should be closer to the top because of our friendship and our relationship. I just didn’t realize that it would be a big deal.
I really dislike the ones that send a “Friend” invitation and when you visit their page, you find out that it’s merely a front for their webcam/nudist extravaganza. I always check out the new possible friend before adding them into my fold.
I hear that people just collect friends just to pump up the numbers. I personally don’t understand that idea. Maybe it’s just a younger age type of issue.
I have found myself cultivating my MySpace page. I’ve been checking on it every day whether or not I’ve been notified of announcements or friend requests. It has been a great little time waster.
I haven’t bothered looking up old friends that I’ve lost touch with. I hear that it’s a very useful tool for that sort of thing.
I suppose that I have it just to have it.
The only reason I got it in the first place was to read Tim Beeman’s blog because he thought it would only be fair since he was reading this one. As a matter of fact, several of my friends make blog entries, but I haven’t checked them out yet. I must correct that situation.
Well… That is all I have today folks. I’ll try to update over the weekend. I’ll be hanging out at home for most of the time. For a month or so, I haven’t seen any bands playing around that I wanted to see. The scene has been kind of dead lately. I just got paid on Wednesday and all my cash has been distributed to various bill collectors. So you know what that means, right?
Yes. There are 4 bands playing this weekend that I want to see. The Tremors, Memphis The Band, Unknown Hinson, and Cyril Lance. And I cannot forget, the Camel City Showcase is taking place in Winston-Salem.
What is the frakkin’ deal with that?