Sunday, April 29, 2007

Local White Bread 'Low Maintenance'

When I was a youngster, I would watch the CBS Evening News every day. I watched the local news too. I was a news junkie. Even when my parents would take me out of town, I would always find the local news. I wanted to see what was going on in my new and different surroundings. I liked to see and hear the different anchors and their styles, but most importantly, the news had drawn me in.

I remember seeing Dan Rather report from the fields and jungles of Vietnam. I remember the Patty Hearst kidnapping. I remember Hubert Humphrey’s death and funeral. I remember the Watergate scandal and Nixon’s resignation. If you wanted to know something that was happening internationally or domestically, I knew enough to give you a short report. I was the kid in plaid pants that had an idea of what was going on in the world.

When I first saw CNN, I was knocked over… That is, once I got up from the floor after seeing MTV for the first time. I would check CNN just about every 4 hours for updates. I was thrilled that news was immediate and readily available.

But things changed when I fully discovered girls and music. Those other pursuits and interests took me away from CNN, The CBS Evening News, and the local news. It was like a switch had been flipped.

When I was in my news prime during the 1970’s, I became intrigued by a military dictator in Africa. His name was Gen. Idi Amin. I remember seeing him on the news and to me, he was a lot like Adolph Hitler. He had a certain charisma about him, but I also knew that he was crazier than an oversexed teenager with a Farrah Fawcett poster and a case of Kleenex.

I couldn’t and didn’t want to believe the news reports I was hearing. His reign was brutal and barbaric. And when he appeared in interviews, you could easily tell that the man was clearly nuttier than a box of all male porn. It was easy to laugh at his outrageous comments. It was difficult to look at the atrocities happening in his country.

I wanted to see The Last King Of Scotland in the theaters, but I never got the chance. When I would drive home after work, I could easily read the film’s title on the marquee at the Carousel Grand as it mocked me.

I wasn’t too surprised when Forrest Whitaker won an Oscar for his performance in The Last King Of Scotland. He’s one hell of an actor!

After seeing The Last King Of Scotland listed with a constant “long wait” in my Netflix queue, I was very surprised to find it in my mailbox last Thursday.

I saved it until I could fully devote my full attention to it. I could watch it without being bothered or disturbed. Although this fictional film takes great liberties with real events, I found it riveting. Whitaker truly deserved that Oscar because he grabbed the essence of the Amin’s personality and brought it to the screen.

I highly recommend The Last King Of Scotland and I gave it 4 out of 5 stars on Netflix.

One flick that I wish I hadn’t wasted my time on… Code Name: The Cleaner. Cedric The Entertainer should be stripped of the “Entertainer” title. This movie TOTALLY sucked!

It only last 17 minutes in my DVD player before I yanked it out with great disdain. I wish Netflix would allow ratings with ½ stars. Code Name: The Cleaner didn’t deserve a full star, but I had no choice.

Perhaps if I had seen a movie review on the news, I would have known better… Hmmmm?

Saturday, April 28, 2007

'1993: The Year In Rock' A mix tape by Chip Kinney

I worked once again with Coup Delicious (AKA Chris Fletcher) on Friday. We set up a gig for a wedding reception at the Empire Room in downtown Greensboro and then we had something going on at Grimsley High later in the afternoon.

Coup recently had surgery and he can’t lift anything. So basically, I was his mule doing whatever he pointed out to be done. Easy work if you don’t mind the lashing.

I don’t know if it was because he was in a bit of pain or what, but he was driving me nuts. Nothing was good enough for the particular and lovable S.O.B. The thought of punching him in the area of his surgery occurred to me several times during the day. I prayed for the medicine to make him a little loopy and little less meticulous. Coup Delicious can be one helluva fussy girl.

We were fighting and arguing like a married couple. And I certainly don’t want that, because the thought of make-up sex with Coup isn’t appealing to me at all. As a matter of fact, it gives me full body shivers.

We took a quick lunch at Hardee’s on Westover and Pembroke where we were accosted by a decently dressed man looking for handouts. He was wearing Levi’s jeans, a gray T-shirt, a UNC windbreaker, and Rockport shoes. His clothes didn’t resemble any type of hand-me-downs that I had ever seen. Perhaps I was wrong, but he appeared well groomed and sober.

I told him that I didn’t have any money. I rarely carry cash because even if you’re truly down on your luck, you don’t deserve me lying to you about what’s in my pockets. One of the reasons that I carry a check card instead of cash is because I’m constantly harassed by vagrants all the time where I work. If it’s not Goatboy or Mike Klein, it’s a joker just outside our front door or down the street in front of Natty Greene’s.

The man said that he didn’t want money. He was hungry. Coup’s heart melted and he donated half of our French fries to him.

Once while retrieving the KZL Van at Natty’s for an Anniversary shindig, I was stopped by a group of panhandlers who had set up shop just across the street from the festivities. I’m sure it was like fishing the drunken guilt-stricken out of a barrel.

They gave me a sob-story (one of the more popular stories I might add) about having to stop in Greensboro because they ran out of gas and money. They were just looking for a couple of bucks in order to get back on the road.

The “mouth piece” was a man in a wheel chair covered with Veteran and POW stickers. Since I had been hit up for my money all day long, I introduced him to my breaking point…

“Please… Tell me what gives you the impression that I’m loaded with money to pass out,” I said. “Is it my torn jeans? Is it my free radio station T-shirt? Is it my worn out tennis shoes? What is it that tells YOU that I have nothing but money to give out to people that probably make more than I do in a day by doing nothing but begging?”

The guy was wheeling backwards from me slowly. He apologized and I retrieved the van.

The Hardee’s guy eventually made his way to the drive-thru to pester the patrons there. Why the restaurant allowed this individual to panhandle on their property is beyond me. And this panhandling thing is really starting to chafe my normally thick skin…

This may sound mean and insensitive, but I’m thinking of passing out a buck if they allow me one thing… Letting me deliver a punch to their stomach. If they want to make five bucks, it’s a shot to the cheek.

I’m tired of it folks. Sick and tired of it. And if this is a way to curb these mofos, then I say that we all should take my approach.

Okay… I feel like I’m fully vented now.

Coup and I reached the campus of Grimsley High School and as it turned out, the event wasn’t what I expected at all.

In my mind, I thought the event had something to do with the leaving seniors of 2007. I thought it was all about partying and tripping, or whatever the kids do these days. It wasn’t that at all… It was a ‘Save Darfur’ Rally.

I had no idea who this Darfur was or why we were out to save him or her. But I got educated real quick just by checking out the different things that the students of Grimsley were putting up around the campus.

As it turns out… Darfur is someplace in Sudan where genocide is running rampant.

It warmed my dark little heart to see all the young enthusiasm swarming around me like bees. These kids weren’t jaded and apathetic like me. They even got Olympic Gold and Silver Medalist Joey Cheek to come and address the crowd about his efforts in Chad.

I had no idea who Mr. Cheek was… I knew that he was in the Olympics and had done well, but I wouldn’t know him if he were standing beside me. I just don’t give a damn about the Olympics or the athletes that participate in the games. It’s of no interest to me.

Chris Thompson pointed him out to me and when Mr. Cheek joined the organizers onstage, he extended his hand to me with an introduction. It was the second Olympic Gold Medalist that I have ever met.

The first being Kurt Angle backstage at a WWE event at the LJVM Coliseum.

Mr. Cheek’s speech was informative and gave the idea to everyone in attendance that your voice and opinion matters. All you have to do is use it. Changes may not happen overnight, but the ball starts rolling. Feel free to read about it at the Greensboro News & Record's website.

With that being written… That’s my public service announcement of the week. And it’s about something that matters… Kristina.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Raven 'Life's A Bitch'

It seems that seeing the “Rowdy Frynds” tour is a bust. Yes, I know that it’s not really Lynyrd Skynyrd… I’ve been hearing that since I mentioned going to the show. Although I have never seen Skynyrd in concert… Ever… And I’ve seen .38 Special a few times… I was most interested in seeing Hank Williams Jr.

During Hank Jr.’s heyday… I didn’t care for him. I thought the music pretty much catered to the lowest common denominator. But then again, I was a music snob in those days. But during the course of time and history, I have developed an appreciation for Hank Jr.’s music. In other words, I have loosened my uptights.

I didn’t care about going to the show until my friend and ex-girlfriend Allyson asked me if I could score a pair of tix for us to go to the show. I told her that I would do what I could and that wasn’t good enough.

I was going to visit her in Durham with a Pieworks Cheeseworks pizza in my hands… She loves those damn things! Oh, and lets not forget the breadsticks with the Ed Marinara sauce and garlic butter. A must have in her book.

Then we were planning on getting rip-roaring drunk and having someone drop us off at the show. I was planning to spend the night ogling badly made up women in tight jeans with nicotine stains on their fingers.

But Allyson came up with a wonderful backup plan that looks like it’s going into effect since I can’t score any tickets… We’re going to see a stage production of Talk Radio.

Yeah! How cool is that?

Talk Radio is one of my favorite films. It’s a loosely based on talk show host Alan Berg who was murdered in 1984 by a few white supremacists who didn’t agree with his opinions. If you’re in the radio business… The film is kind of like a study book placed just under the Radio Bible.

I am looking SO forward to seeing it. I haven’t been to a play in years!

On my friend Christine’s suggestion… I have been watching season one of The West Wing. It’s a political drama based in the White House surrounding the President and his staff. And as far as I can tell… It is indeed political and features the actors constantly walking and talking at the same time.

I’ve been tempted in timing the scenes where walking occurs to see the average amount of time with bipeds in fully mobile action. Out of the average 42 minutes of a show… I’m sure half of the each episode are scenes of talking and walking. If scenes of walking and talking were porn… This show would be hardcore triple X material.

At first, the show wasn’t grabbing me, but I hung on and I’ve gotten sucked in. If the show is a true depiction of White House activities… No one really sits on their asses. It’s all about T&W… T&W… T&W.

Good Lord, they’re wearing me out.

Christine also told me that there’s no reason to follow the show past the 3rd season. She said that the show’s creator and main writer was fired and the show just went nowhere after that.

I fully trust her opinion. She’s never led me astray.

And BTW... If you're a fan of The Darkness... Then you should check out Raven, my musical choice of the day.

Raven was a band that didn't quite make it. They were loud and sometimes as violent as 3 Irish boys could be. The drummer once broke his arm onstage during a show when he was pushing down amplifiers.

Now that folks.... Is Rock n' Roll!

I HIGHLY recommend them to anyone that likes hard rock.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

King's X 'King's X'

I got a phone call from Kristina yesterday. She felt compelled to help me out with my Drew Barrymore sickness. We went to the Sedgefield $2 cinemas over on High Point Road here in Greensboro to see Music And Lyrics.

I was a little apprehensive inside because that place holds a bad memory for me. But the thought of hanging with my friend, seeing Drew Barrymore on the big screen, and knocking the film off my Netlfix queue outweighed any uneasiness.

I haven’t been to that theater since I saw the 2001 Nicole Kidman (should I also mention my fixation with her too?) film The Others. It was that day when I realized my ex-fiancĂ©e’s infidelity. Since I had complete trust, I was blind to the fact that something was going on with her and one of my friends. It hit me during the course of that movie that something wasn’t kosher when they both ventured out to the bathrooms at the same time.

With all that way behind me, surprisingly the place didn’t have angry little demons popping out at me around every turn. I was able to fully enjoy the time out with my friend and able to somewhat enjoy the film Music And Lyrics.

Hugh Grant plays a “happy has-been” from an 80’s pop band called Pop. Their “hit song” “Pop Goes My Heart” has been stuck in my head until I put on this King’s X CD.

Music And Lyrics is the typical crappy little romantic film that normally causes me to writhe in pain. But with Drew Barrymore in it… The writhing was of a different nature. At times, the film was boring and predictable. Other times, I found myself chuckling at a few things.

I was riding the fence with scoring it with 2 out of 5 stars on Netflix, but with the talents and beauty of Ms. Barrymore, I gave it 3 out of 5 stars.

The only redeeming quality was the video parody of “Pop Goes My Heart”. That little gem caused me the most laughs. If you haven’t seen the movie, don’t bother. Although I strongly urge you to check out the link to the video on You Tube.

When Hugh Grant first made lip contact with Barrymore, it was all I could do to keep from standing up and shouting at the movie screen, “Stop it! He doesn’t love you! He prefers transvestite hookers!” But I kept my cool and didn’t embarrass Kristina in front of the other movie goers.

After the flick, we ventured over to our “watering hole” for a few adult beverages. Since we have this idea of opening and closing a bar, I decided that since it’s a chain restaurant/bar it may be a good idea to ask permission to put their name and location on my blog.

If you’re a Too Dangerous For Daylight reader, the invitation will be totally wide open for you to join us during our alcoholic endeavors.

I talked to the manager there and he’s going to contact who he needs to in order to put the name and address out there for those who would like to join us for a few rounds. If we don’t get permission, then we’ll find another place dear and close to our hearts.

One of the main reasons that we chose this particular place is because of the bar’s hours during the week. We gotten to know all the bartenders and they know us. Hell, they seem to like us. The other reason was the bathrooms… If you’re going to spend a lot of time in a bar, there’s the very probable event of using more than a urinal.

Sure, I love the “dive” type of bars, but when it comes to nice and clean facilities… They are sorely lacking in that department. It may good enough for a desperate heroin shooter, but it’s not good enough for my fat pasty ass to have a “sit down” on a porcelain bowl of filth.

I will keep you posted.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Various Artists 'Best Of The Blues Vol. 2'

Over the weekend, I got a visit from my niece and goddaughter Gracie. She’s a moody little thing with a bit of a temper, but I happened to find her in a span of five “good” minutes.

So I started doing what comes naturally when it comes to holding conversations with infants… I started talking goofy in order to get her to smile. And through this goofy talk and general stupidity of making Gracie show me her toothless gums with her ear-to-ear smile… I found something very interesting.

You can say the most despicable and dirtiest things to a baby while making that goofy voice!

That’s right! As long as you use the “goofy” voice, you can say ANYTHING and it’s nothing but smiles from the rug rat. For instance… I said words like… “feces”… “hog lagoon”… “defecation”… “homicide”… “Jill St. John”… “urine”… “snot”… “fecal matter”… “butt wipe”… “snow balling”… and “Richard Simmons”.

It didn’t matter what I said, Gracie just sat there and smiled bigger than Jimmy Carter with lust in his heart. Truly amazing!

I just thought I’d pass that on for those of you that want to give it a try sometime.

Have you seen the movie Freedom Writers?

I watched half of it Sunday night and finished the rest on Monday morning. It’s an uplifting tale about a teacher thrown into a pool of inner city sharks that have no expectations of living past the age of 20. She wanted to make a difference and she did.

But there was something in the film that bothered me… It was her freakin’ husband!

He was a total prick!

At first, he came across as a loving husband, but later on, his “prick button” was pressed and he became a total jackass. He didn’t support her and her efforts to make a difference. He felt that he was in competition with all the students in her class.

She could have used his help, support, and understanding… But he silently (according to the film) fought her every step of the way.

I kept thinking to myself… What a douche bag!

I’m sorry, but in my world, if I totally love someone and I’m lucky enough to be married to them… I would try to support them in any way that I could. Right or wrong… It doesn’t matter. If it means something to her then it means something to me. And I would hope that she would feel the same way in whatever I felt strongly about.

I just don’t get people like that. Am I crazy?

This teacher, Erin Gruwell, faced opposition at every turn. From the very educators she worked for to some of the students themselves. She took on 2 part-time jobs so that she could buy books and supplies for her students. And the one person that she should be able to count on was busy feeling like he was taking a backseat.

Damn! He made me angry.

Okay… I feel better now. But I still think that she should have gotten all “Burning Bed” on his ass.

I gave the flick 4 out of 5 stars on Netflix.

And if you wanna join up as friends on Netflix… By all means add me…

Monday, April 23, 2007

Kid Rock 'Live Trucker'

Kristina and I shared the love for Grindhouse all day this past Saturday. She left a comment on my MySpace page that read, “Happy Grindhouse Day!!!” We sent text messages to each other that shared our excitement about finally getting to see this film. We were as giddy as Ted Nugent in a topless gun shop.

First in our plans… We hit our “watering hole” to get enough alcohol into our systems for 3 hours of Grindhouse. It didn’t stay in our system that long… I think it’s because we ate something.

But we did manage to see on of the ugliest shirts ever made. It was like visual ipecac and we couldn’t look at it long. Kristina managed to snap a picture for all of us to enjoy…

The guy is pictured with a woman. A woman that I’m assuming is his wife. Either this woman has a sick sense of humor or she honestly lacks a good style sense like her husband… As a guy, I TOTALLY rely on my lady friends to help me out with my clothes… Especially Christine. She has no problem ripping off the proverbial Band-Aid from my style sense.

Kristina and I made our way to the theater to see Grindhouse. We found the auditorium decently filled and the projector didn’t break down. It was everything that we expected and more! It was sick. It was disturbing. It was cheap looking. And it was beautiful!

Because of our own sickness… WE LOVED IT!!!

We also came up with a theory about the Planet Terror feature part of the film… Rose McGowan portrays a go-go dancer that ends up with a machine gun replacing her right leg. We came up with the idea that she fires the weapon with the magical power of her kegels.

Kegels are worthy of worship.

See… We’re pretty sick too!

I managed to make it through the film without hitting the bathroom. It was difficult, but the sacrifices had to be made for Grindhouse. If it were my bladder… Then so be it. I had to be hardcore for Grindhouse.

With the alcohol fully out of our systems, we hit our “watering hole” once again to restore our bloodstreams to 40 proof.

And Kristina has agreed to open and close a bar with me. Although we are going to do it on a weekday, we are going to invite all of the Too Dangerous For Daylight readers to join us for all or part of the day. Since we actually value our livers a wee little bit, we’re looking for a bar that opens in the afternoon. Preferably in the late afternoon. And we have to remember not to “drink” our cab fare.

On Sunday, I had lunch with my friend Robin. When we were leaving, she opened up her trunk to place her purse inside. I was amazed to find 7 basketballs in the trunk!

Take a look… You may have to look closely to see the ones in the shadows, but they’re there…

She told me that they were her son’s basketballs and I had to ask, “Why does he have seven of them?”

She explained that he even has balls that match his outfits.

Yeah! He has basketballs to match his outfit!

What straight guy does that?

But who am I to question? Oh well… I’m out. It’s almost time for my manicure.

Saturday, April 21, 2007

The Mantras 'The Mantras'

It has been a long week for me and yesterday, I have finally mastered something that has been a thorn in my side. A turd in the back of my pick-up truck. A carcass rotting in my hallway. A booger in my coffee…

I have finally learned how to make… I think they’re called “hyper-links” or something… You know? Those links you find when you’re reading something online. When you pass over it with your cursor, you can actually click on it and be transported through time and space to visit another website.

I’ve been toying with it unsuccessfully in order to get a link from my MySpace page to my blog. Sure, I could just repost my entries onto my MySpace, but that would make for a few minutes of extra work. In my land of milk and honey, there will be none of that.

Well, I finally achieved the proper link and it ended up the way that I wanted it. In my mind, I have achieved maximum hard-on and there’s no where to go but over the top. Yes, the pun is intended.

I’m starting to think that I may even be getting the hang of this HTML crap. Holy Drew Barrymore! I might even try to learn how to read music again! And believe me folks, that krunk really threw me for a loop.

I just finished season 2 of Rescue Me. It’s a Denis Leary vehicle about New York City fireman in a post-9/11 town. I missed it the first time around, but I’ve been gaining ground since I’ve subscribed to Netflix.

The show is absolutely DAMNTASTIC!!! Sure, it’s mainly Leary’s standup routines mixed in with the drama… But it’s a damn good drama.

Here’s the rub…

I missed season 3 and I’m waiting for it to come out on DVD in June. I want to get all caught up before seeing season 4. But those jokers at FX Networks don’t want me to be caught up. They’re releasing season 3 the same damn time they’re showing the new episodes on FX.


Why do these networks do that sort of thing? It drives me crazier than Tommy Gavin passing a liquor store on free sample day. Jesus Chrysler Dodge!

But there’s nothing I can do except tape those new episodes while getting up to speed. Then when I’m done… Start watching season 4 off my tapes.

Yes… It sounds like a good plan, but I know that it will get screwed like a baby-faced fresh fish in prison.

I’m going to try to keep a positive attitude about it. I will accomplish the task laid out before me in June. It will be a greater feeling than figuring out how to slay my HTML dragon.

I have even kissed girls. I have even lit propane heaters and survived. I can do anything.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Allman Brothers Band 'Seven Turns'

Just because I haven’t said so in a long while… The title of each blog entry is the music that I have chosen to listen to for the day. The music is chosen in such a manner that it surely points out my mental illnesses. I mentioned it before so I won’t go into it again…

I attended the first Thirsty Thursday without baseball last night at First Horizon Park. I was a little surprised with the turnout because the skies were threatening all day long. A good crowd came out for dollar drafts and the band Liquid Pleasure.

It did rain just a little, but the Grasshoppers organization had a wonderful backup plan… They set up the stage underneath the concourse area. It was very cool, but very dry. The wind made things kind of cold, but Weather Dave, Mike Klein, Heather Chapin, Dan, and Jaclyn persevered.

So the next time you’re thinking about hitting Thirsty Thursday when there’s no game, don’t worry if there’s some rain… They got you covered!

Who doesn’t love dollar drafts?

This week… I must admit that my entries haven’t been all that entertaining. I’ve been so busy that the same 4 DVD’s from Netflix have been collecting dust on my entertainment center. My TV shows on VHS have been piling up. I’ve been losing sleep too. Right now my eyes feel like they’ve been rolled around in a dirty cat box and shoved back into my sockets.

One of my responsibilities this week was producing the 21st Annual Carolina Blues Fest preview show with John Amberg and Casey Hazelman. The show hits Rock 92 airwaves this Sunday evening at 9pm after Little Steven’s Underground Garage.

It’s a very jamming show and gives you a great idea as to what to expect for the 21st Annual Carolina Blues Fest that’s brought to you by the Piedmont Blues Preservation Society.

Rock 92 has been a proud sponsor of this event for as long as I can remember. So make those plans to attend the show at Festival Park in beautiful downtown Greensboro on May 5th. Check the website for ticket information.

Well… That just about does it for me. I’ve got nothing. I am depleted. Check over the weekend for updates and hopefully it will be worth it.

I close with a picture Drew Barrymore…

Thursday, April 19, 2007

KISS 'Symphony Alive IV' Single Disc Edition

Kristina and I ventured out to see Grindhouse over at the Carmike off Stanley Road last week. I dropped her off in front of the theater because of the rain and she protested!? She protested! Why?

For some crazy reason, I thought women appreciated that sort of thing. Am I too chivalrous for my own good? Do women actually like getting soaked with rain?

Good grief, Charlie Brown from outta town!

Yes, a reference to Jimmy “The Boogie Woogie Man” Valiant.

We made our way into the theater where we found only one other person snacking on popcorn. We took off our jackets, shook off the rain, and got comfortable for the 3 hour flick. A flick that we have been itching to see.

We sat there and made a little chit-chat with the other patron. An usher came up the stairs and said, “I’m sorry, but we’re having problems with the projector. We called someone to service it. You can get tickets for a later time, see another movie, or get your money back.”

Stina asked if they could show it in another auditorium and the usher just stood there blinking until I mentioned that the length of the film could make that very improbable.

Then we asked the usher what other films were playing… I could see through the windows to his soul that his mind’s chalkboard was completely blank. His eyes rolled around and he stammered through a short list of films… We went with Blades Of Glory where we laughed our asses off.

I went ahead and rated Blades Of Glory with 4 out of 5 stars on Netflix. I liked it so much that I’m actually thinking about giving Ron Burgundy : Anchorman another try because I hated that damn movie.

Throwing caution to the wind… I think Will Ferrell is the funniest person ever to flee Saturday Night Live. He is simply brilliant.

Thank you for letting me purge. I feel so much better now.

This Saturday, Stina and I are planning another trip to see Grindhouse. I was hoping to find it at a drive-in, but it looks like those places are going with kiddy-type flicks. The drive-in would be a perfect place for Grindhouse… A tribute to B-movies that were almost exclusively shown to a sea of cars with steamed up windows through the 60’s and 70’s.

Since the drive-in is out… I’m hoping that the Graham Cinema is showing it this weekend. Hell… Give them a call and just listen to the outgoing message. It’s always a classic and usually very funny.


And that same day… Stina and I ran up a $85 bar tab! We were so distraught that we didn’t see Grindhouse, we drowned our sorrows with Yuengling, rum and Diet Cokes, and double shots of Jim Beam.

One of these days… We are going to open and close a bar. I can feel it like a drunken spider crawling over my shoulder. I’ve heard that opening and closing a bar is something that everyone should do before they die. And by golly… I wanna die trying.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

The Rolling Stones 'Desert Island Survival Kit'

The Center City Park will be celebrating its Grand Reopening all this week and I will be there with both our stations. Festivities kicks off each day at 11:30am going through 1:30pm and there’s lots of things for everyone to enjoy.

It was a bright and gusty day in downtown Greensboro this past Monday morning. The temperatures weren’t that bad when the wind ceased for a moment or two, but it was generally cold and that kept a lot of folks from turning out.

What made matters worse? The new high rise condominiums are under construction across the street from the park. The wind was ripping through that building and spreading debris all over the damn place. I was concerned for myself and all the others in attendance. The debris appeared to only be forms of tar paper and other types of pliable materials that ordinarily wouldn’t harm anyone. But you never know.

I watched one big piece float on the wind across the park and hit a glass window on the Greensboro Cultural Museum. I fully expected the glass to shatter, but to my dismay, it didn’t.

I talked to WFMY News 2’s Leigh Brock about my irrational fear and possible news story about the crane across the street. I had a feeling that it could be blown down and fall on top of everyone in the park. I kept a watchful eye on that thing for about 2 hours.

Once I got the Rock 92 van parked in its place, I headed for a place warm and inviting for lunch… Fincastle’s Diner. There I saw a familiar face one seat over at the lunch counter from me. I was unsure about approaching the dude because I wasn’t sure it was him. My curiosity got the best of me and I asked the gentleman, “Are you David Hoggard?”

It turned out to be him and I introduced myself.

Mr. Hoggard also has an award winning blog called Hogg’s Blog. He also writes occasional editorial commentaries for the Greensboro News & Record. His words actually carry weight.

I admitted that I felt that my blog, which topped his for Best Blog in the Triad by the readers of GoTriad Magazine last year, was a little light comparatively speaking. Hoggard actually writes about things that matter to the citizens of Greensboro.

My blog?

You’ll find entries about my impending foot fetish, Drew Barrymore look-alikes that dis me, and television shows. Nothing major. Nothing that really matters. I feel like it’s entertaining and sometimes… Ahem… funny. I tend to steer clear of weighty issues because I generally don’t know what I’m talking about.

He was very cool and friendly. So if Greensboro politics and social issues are a concern of your’s… Check out Hogg’s Blog.

Over the weekend, I learned that Dianna’s son Dylan had purchased a pair of the ugliest shoes that I had ever seen. Take a good long look…

I had to ask if they were bowling shoes and why he would spend good dinero on such things.

He wanted something that no one else in school had to be different. Hell… I can’t argue with that. After all, I once owned a pair of camouflage Converse Chuck Taylors. Dylan’s shoes looked like a pair of “Keds Rip Taylor’s”. In my mind... It’s way too flamboyant for me to even consider wearing.

To each their own, I guess.

Monday, April 16, 2007

The Non-Conformist Cult Radio Show 4/9/04 - 4/13/04

I forgot to mention on yesterday’s entry that Allison Moore has taken the top spot on my MySpace friends section for this week.

Do I care that I’m not listed as one of her top friends?

No. As a matter of fact… Of all the (as of now) 75 friends that I have acquired since taking a strong liking to MySpace… I would say that 50% of those friends do not have me listed in their top 24. I’m cool with that.

I’ve never been one out to win any popularity contests. Even in High School I didn’t care about being the center of attention or a popular guy. I flew under the radar only to pop up now and then for a “bomb drop”. I was the smartass that sat in the back waiting for my time to strike. And when I did, it usually warranted a trip to the Vice Principal’s office.

One case in point…

One day was set aside to take club pictures for the yearbook. Before homeroom, I met up with my friends…. Jonathan Everett, Jeff Baker, and Jon Sullivan. It was our senior year and I concocted a plan for the four of us to leave our mark in the yearbook for 1985. It was going to be subtle, but always there for our memories of the day.

I suggested that the four of us show up in as many club pictures as we possibly could before the day was over with. Jonathan was the only one to “chicken out”. He has always been the “careful” type of guy.

Please keep in mind that even though Sullivan and Baker were members in a couple of clubs, I never belonged to any at Northwest Guilford. Yet I managed to get into seven different pictures.

It all started bright and early with the Future Farmers of America. There were a lot of members so it was quite easy for the three of us to blend right in. Although we were given the once over by several of the club members, no one turned us in.

I got busted a WHOLE lot of times. The one that stands out in my mind was the Bus Driver’s Club.

To be captured in that particular club’s picture would be like scoring the homecoming queen with a side of hot teacher in the teacher’s lounge. It was the ultimate because the members were usually pictured on top of a bus.

But wouldn’t you know it… The three of us were standing directly behind the bus they were pulling out for the picture. The club director came over and said, “You guys ain’t bus drivers… What are you doing out here?”

Sullivan piped up with, “We’re gonna be next year!”

He told us to get back to class.

The club with the smallest amount of members included my sister Pam. She protested our appearance for the club picture, but eventually kept her stinking trap shut.

Mrs. Clem, the head librarian and club director looked at Sullivan and me very hard. We could see her questioning our presence there until someone said, “Hey Mrs. Clem… Get in the picture with us.”

Sullivan and I were the loudest supporters for that idea. We waved her up and I think Sullivan actually went over to her to retrieve her by the arm. As soon as the camera’s shutter made that sound, we were gone.

Looking at the picture now… I can see that they spelled Pam’s name correct and misspelled mine. Hmmmm…

Sullivan in a black vest of some type with my sister to his left. I’m the guy peering over his head.

I was wearing my red Ted Nugent ‘Weekend Warriors’ T-shirt which was perfect for that day… It was total gonzo, baby!

When the yearbooks arrived to the school, problems arose. We were separately called into the Vice Principal’s office. I was told that the club directors were not happy with my “little joke” and they wanted their club dues for the year. I believe it all totaled up to $57.

I refused to pay and stood by my belief that the prank was a harmless way to leave my mark in the yearbook. They threatened me with all kinds of things and even called my parents. My dad stood by my argument and the matter was dropped.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Cheap Trick 'In Color'

Rock 92 had a live remote broadcast with Chris Kelly from the Two Guys Named Chris show yesterday in Asheboro, North Carolina. Folks came out to James River Equipment / John Deere to see their hometown kid done good. There was a lot of back-patting and smiles throughout the day.

This was probably the twenty-fourth time I had been within Asheboro City Limits. I’ve stopped a couple of times for breakfast on my way to Rockingham races with Wally Harrison. I would occasionally run office supplies to the NC Zoo. And I’ve had my share of live remotes in that town.

One of the things that keep me from spending a lot of time in Asheboro is the fact that I cannot get alcohol anywhere in that town. I’ve driven by Sir Pizza many, many times with wanton lust in my heart for eating one of their pies. But I never stop because there’s no point in eating pizza without beer. It’s like having shoes without the socks. Something just stinks about it.

Another thing… Driving east or west on Highway 64 through Asheboro is quite a challenge… A challenge to keep my road rage within check. The speed limit is 45 mph, but I think most of the people in Asheboro suffer from some sort of foot/eye coordination problems.

I don’t know if they can’t SEE the speed limit signs or whether their legs and feet work properly. The folks that generally clutter up Highway 64 drive along at about 38 mph. It’s quite MADDENING! It’s like driving in a two-lane funeral procession.

And since I’m talking about small town driving habits… The folks in King, Mt. Airy, Pilot Mountain, and Pinnacle are some of the slowest people in the world when it comes to making turns. They almost, I mean ALMOST, come to a complete stop when making a left or right turn.

Sometimes, I just wanna get all “Robby Gordon” with those slow turners and put the bumper to them. It’s like… “C’mon! Hit the gas! Turn the wheel! Get out of the way!”

That’s what I like about a lot of the drivers in the Triad… They make left and right hand turns like Bo and Luke Duke… Practically sideways with the tires squealing. And usually there are people complaining about my “slow” driving in my rearview.

Dianna and I hit a great place to eat in Mt. Airy last night… Goober’s. The place was packed, as usual, so we took a seat at the bar until a table became available. I haven’t been there in a few months, but I noticed for the first time that liquor was available.

With the hectic day behind me, I asked if they had Jim Beam. The bartender gave me the affirmative. So I asked her for a shot to which she replied, “I’m sorry. We don’t do shots.”

I don’t know if it was the look of utter disbelief on my face, but she continued, “We don’t want the bar type atmosphere here.”

I did good… I didn’t say anything. I could have pointed out the fact that the beer, wine, and liquor stored behind the bar are clearly visible throughout the room. I could have pointed out the half-full large glass barrel within 2 feet of me that proudly proclaimed that pineapple martinis take 3 days for proper preparation. I could have pointed out that many of the patrons were enjoying their adult beverages. HELL! I could have pointed out the fact that I was sitting AT A BAR!

I bit my tongue and took her up on her suggestion… I had a broiler maker of the sidecar variety. She poured the beer and added a shot of Jim Beam. Because of my empty stomach, that joker didn’t take long to get in my blood stream and warm up my face.

I like small towns, but I don’t know what it is about the small town mentality when it comes to driving and alcoholic beverages. If you live in a small town… May I suggest actually watching MORE NASCAR races for adapting a good driving style and perhaps a viewing of Leaving Las Vegas to embrace the occasional drunk like me.

Friday, April 13, 2007

'Ray' Select music from the Motion Picture

I’ve always been interested in bonsai trees. I have always wanted one because I think it would be fun to take care of something that doesn’t need to be taken outside in order to keep its excrement off the floor. I also think that the “quiet” time spent taking care of the tree would be beneficial to my mental health that went sour a long, long time ago.

But instead of going with my idea of getting and caring for a bonsai tree, I went with the electronic variety… My Netflix garden and most recently my MySpace page.

My Netflix garden doesn’t require that much sprucing up. Every week the new releases are listed and I place them at the top of my queue by alphabetical order. BFD, right?

It sort of takes care of itself. Nice and neat without much care. I drop by my Netflix everyday and sometimes it’s like walking into a room and I’ve forgotten why I’m there. And the logjams that occur with my sometimes busy schedule keep me from fully appreciating my Netflix addiction.

As for my MySpace, it has been much more fun than I ever expected.

I originally signed up so I could read someone’s blog because they only felt it fair since they were reading this one. Well, he stopped writing and I stopped visiting MySpace.

One day at work, I filled in for Nicole our receptionist. Unlike her, I don’t have too many responsibilities while up front. Therefore, I can sit at her desk fielding phone calls while trolling around on the Internet just as God intended.

We shouldn’t question his or her will.

After tending to my various emails, writing up a blog entry, and checking out The West Virginia Surf Report… I decided to play around with own personal MySpace page. And it turned out to be great fun!

What I didn’t expect was the backlash from friends and family as to how they were listed in my friends section. I didn’t care where I was on other folk’s pages, but I had no idea how much they cared.

Like a shotgun to Kurt Cobain… It blew my mind.

I thought using the time-tested and science-approved method of alphabetical order could smooth those rustled feathers, but it didn’t do much good. For some reason, most think or list their friends as to how they much they like or love them. Since I don’t have anyone to throw my ugly pile of love and affection on… The alphabetical way will keeping working for me.

And here’s the deal… Every Sunday… The next person on the alphabetical list will take the much coveted number one spot. The list will be rotated and everyone will be able to have my repulsive heap of love and adoration thrown on them for one solid week.

This week Abe Reid and the Spikedrivers are numero uno!

Feel free to drop by my MySpace page for your shot at acquiring my electronic venereal disease. I’m such a slut and I will give you everything for a full week. EVERYTHING! Me so horny. Me love you long time or at least a week and all that jazz.

And you don’t even have to return the love… Just use me for the whore that I am.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Cameo 'Emotional Violence'

Being a godfather has its perks…

For Easter, I got a card and a jar filled with E&E’s from my goddaughter and niece Gracie.

You don’t know what E&E’s are?

When I was a kid, I discovered that when you turn m&m’s sideways… The “m’s” look like capital “E’s”. Since my name starts with the letter “E”, I started calling m&m’s “E&E’s”.

It was a private little thing where only a handful of folks were privileged to know. Hell, my closest family members probably don’t even remember me calling the candies “E&E’s”. I haven’t thought about it in years until I reached into the jar for a small handful the day before Easter.

My niece Chloe was visiting with me that day and I asked if she would like some of my E&E’s. She said no.

I asked if she were sure that she didn’t want any because they’re sweet, tasty, and made of chocolate. She finally came around and took some E & E’s from me. When she inspected them, she had a perplexed look on her face and said, “Unka Gene? These are m&m’s.”

“No they’re not, Chloe…” I said with a calm voice. “They are E&E’s.”

Standing by her convictions and her 3-year-old knowledge of the alphabet she said, “Unka Gene… They have m’s on them.” She offered one to me as proof.

I showed her the same piece of candy, but turned it sideways to show her that the “m” was in fact an “E”. And without further conversation, she took it from my hand and ate it.

I don’t think she bought it.

Last Saturday, I worked a wedding reception with Coup Delicious (AKA Chris Fletcher) to make a little extra scratch. I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again… Real wedding receptions are not teeming with single and available women as seen in popular films such as Wedding Crashers. So when I go to these events, I don’t even bother checking out the scene. There’s just no point because even if there are single ladies there, they’re usually paired up with a boyfriend.

But this past Saturday, a particular woman caught my eye during the bouquet toss… A woman who bore a resemblance to Hollywood’s Drew Barrymore. She was a little chunkier than the real Drew and I couldn’t help the fact that I was constantly looking at her.


Because quite frankly… In my book, Drew Barrymore is the “bees knees”. There’s just something about her looks and personality that cause me lustful thoughts. Thoughts so depraved that I cannot and will not look at footage of her as a child.

E.T.? Can’t watch it. Firestarter? No way I’m seeing that again. Cat’s Eye? I tried watching that one a couple of weeks ago on the Chiller Channel, but every time they showed the young Drew I had to cover my eyes and recite the Lord‘s Prayer.

I don’t want to see a cute little Drew when I have nothing but immoral thoughts about the delectable adult Drew. It’s just not natural! It’s sick! And when I see the young Drew, I recoil like a vampire that has a cross shoved into its face.

So imagine my astonishment when I saw this healthy adult Drew look-alike within 500 feet and no court ordered encumbrances. I pointed her out to Coup Delicious… “Dude… You’re whack! She don’t look nuthin’ like Drew Barrymore. She’s too chunky.”

He was wrong about her not looking like Drew, but not about the chunky. It was a damn good kind of chunky. The kind that produced ample breasts that almost spilled out every time she bent down during the “Electric Slide”. And every time she bent over to adjust her shoe, I had to slap a table.

I was working and I couldn’t just venture over to chat with her… Damn. But as the contracted minutes kept clicking away, I had to get things into order for a quick exit. And that’s when I finally came face to face with faux Drew.

I said, “Hi. How ya doing? I’m Eugene… One of the DJ’s working tonight and I’m licensed to drive motor vehicles.”

She simply said “Hi”.

She gave me no name, pressed a button on her cell phone, put it to her ear, and brushed me aside to get into the elevator. It was something that I can easily imagine the real Drew doing.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

The Non-Conformist Cult Radio Show 4/2/04

If you didn’t already know, I was born a male.

I’m generally male all the way, baby!

First of all… I love women. I don’t understand them one bit, but I love them. All shapes, sizes, and colors. And that’s always been one of the things over the years that has assured me that I am in fact, a man.

Last Friday, I was told that I had to pick up two propane heaters that towered at least 8 feet high. We needed them for 1075 KZL’s Murphy in the Morning show yesterday as they broadcasted from First Horizon Park.

The forecast for morning lows were quite chilly and we got those gigantic propane heaters from High Point Rentals to keep Murphy’s crew warm.

Here’s the rub…

I had never messed with anything propane in my life!

I have never even lit a propane grill for cooking!

When I was told about these heaters… I immediately had visions of someone accidentally set on fire, someone losing a limb, or someone losing their eyesight. And in those visions, that someone was me.

I’ll admit it. I was a little frightened about the prospects of lighting those huge heaters.

Before I actually had to jump off cars with jumper cables, I would move away from the vehicles during the process. I would RUN at least 30 feet away from the cars as they were utilizing those cables. I had fears of batteries exploding with acid all over my beautiful face and luscious body.

I was born a male. I had the genitalia or at least some of it… But when it came to doing “manly” things, I usually steer clear of such things. I drive a truck, drink beer, watch NASCAR, and that’s about it. I don’t hunt and I don’t fish. I have a tool box, but it’s filled with water based paints and brushes for my artistic and geeky endeavors.

And if television has taught me anything… From commercials, sitcoms, to King Of The Hill… Propane is a manly gas used for cooking and heating things.

I was a pale imitation of a man until yesterday morning.

Brian at High Point Rentals quickly and thoroughly explained how to hook up the heaters and crank them up to heat up the Murphy crew. He calmed my fears and put me at ease with the operation of those heaters.

I hooked up them up and yelled in my newly found manly voice for coworker Heather and intern Jessi to STAND BACK! Propane was about to be used.

I did exactly as Brian instructed and YOWSA! Propane gas was firing up everything within 10 feet of the heater. Sure, the little clicking of the ignition was a little unsettling, but I held steady.

None of my fears came to fruition. I felt like the man inside of me had finally hatched. I felt empowered. I felt worthy of having hair growing out of my face. I felt like resting my fists on my hips and constantly looking upwards to my left like a super hero.

Propane is indeed a magical gas capable of birthing boys into the world of manhood.

Friday, April 06, 2007

The Non-Conformist Cult Radio Show 3/26/04 #1

A couple of months ago, I got the exciting news about one of my favorite TV shows that was finally being released on DVD…. WKRP In Cincinnati.

Check it out!

The initial release date was April 3, but for some reason it was pushed back to April 24. When I got the news of ’KRP’s release… I fell to the ground, spoke in tongues, and lifted up praise to the Almighty. The dreary day suddenly changed. The sun broke through the clouds like the well-endowed Ron Jeremy breaking through a pristine hymen. It was glorious news!

I discovered last night that our Creative Services Director Joe Davis, had already purchased it. I showed him the link where the reviewer gives up all the dirt on things that will kill most of the ‘KRP purists. Thanks to Jeff Kay at The West Virginia Surf Report for bringing this to my attention.

I don’t like the fact that the majority of the music has been changed. I don’t like the fact that scenes have been cut. I don’t like the fact that I won’t be able to resist purchasing WKRP In Cincinnati on DVD.

WKRP In Cincinnati was one of the all-time classics. And for those of us in radio… It’s not completely accurate, but sometimes it will hit the bull’s eye. And when it comes to shows presenting their take on Thanksgiving… WKRP’s is the BEST!

You’ve heard about which female castaway from Gilligan’s Island that you’d prefer to be with… Ginger or Mary Ann?

The same thing can be attached to WKRP.

Jennifer Marlowe?

Or Bailey Quarters?

Give me your answer by posting a comment. I’m a Mary Ann kind of guy and I will forever be all about Bailey Quarters. For me, Bailey (Jan Smithers) is one of the hottest ladies to ever walk across a television screen.

Now my Netflix habit…

I finished Wonderfalls. While watching discs 1 and 2 of this series, I was constantly going back and forth with rating it with 4 or 5 stars. Once I saw the first episode on disc 3, my rating had been established with all 5 stars.

That episode had everything… Macaws, romance, sex, flashlights, elephant dung, awesome humor, and lipstick-lesbians. The one episode made me laugh my ass off and my eyes tear up. Where can you get this kind of great entertainment?

I’m buying it! Check out the description.

Once I finished the series on DVD, I called Christine to tell her about it and to beg her to watch it… I believe her exact words were something like this… “Who do you think told you about it, dumb ass?”

Only the first four episodes aired on television… Those weren’t even the best ones!

I don’t know if they kept filming the series after the cancellation, but it ties up nice and neat at the end. As a failed series with only 13 episodes, its surprisingly complete and deliciously satisfying. I cannot recommend it enough. I’m thinking about ordering it from Amazon along with my WKRP.

Wonderfalls gets my Official Seal of Approval!

Thursday, April 05, 2007

David Bowie 'Heroes'

Despite the opinions of everyone I know… I think that I’m pretty normal. Sure, I’ve got the usual amounts of phobias and idiosyncrasies… But there’s a new wrinkle developing and it kind of worries me.

I first noticed it about a month ago when a female friend of mine walked into the bar to meet me for a couple of rounds. She was wearing pumps and it was the first time that I had ever seen her wearing that type of feminine footwear. She looked good in them and I told her so.

I have never, EVER been a foot man. As a matter of fact, I generally despise feet and that thought reaches all the way down to the end of my own legs. I never get close to my own feet unless I’m drying them off from the shower, clipping nails, or putting on socks. Feet have always been viewed by me as disgusting germ factories in overdrive.

I have a male friend who admires the feet of women so much so that he uses phrases like “bubble toes” and a few others that I cannot remember. He believes that seeing the feet of women is kind of like seeing them naked. I don’t get that logic, but hey, that’s his hang up and I’m cool with it.

He doesn’t get off on touching feet or footwear, he simply likes to admire the attractive feet of women.

So when I met my friend for drinks again, she had on a new pair of red pumps. As we sat at the bar, she lifted her leg and placed her foot on the corner of the barstool. There was her red and sparkly pump right there between my legs.

“Do you like my shoes?” she chirpily asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “There’s no place like home.”

I couldn’t help but notice how attractive they made her feet look. I could see that she had painted her nails to match the shoes and I had never seen her do that before. Never have I seen her with painted nails of any kind.

Last night, I met this friend for drinks at Solaris. And for some reason, I checked out her shoes…. Black pumps I believe, but I can’t be sure because of the dim lighting. She made mention of the shoes and I told her that they gave her some toe cleavage.

Yes. Toe cleavage. She seemed quite pleased to hear that.

I had no idea such a thing existed until Chris Roulhac mentioned it once. If I recall correctly, I laughed at such nonsense. Then she gave me an article from a newspaper proclaiming “toe cleavage” as the sexiest thing this side of boobs. Let me just say… It totally blew my mind. Was the world going to hell in a foot bath?

What is going on with me?

As a matter of fact, the shoe thing is quite new to her. Even in the summer, she would wear black boots. So it seems that she is developing some sort of pump fetish.

I seriously don’t know if I’m losing my mind. I don’t need another fetish in my life. And not to mention one that involves feet!

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

The Non-Conformist Cult Radio Show 3/19/04 - 3/26/04

Here lately, I don’t know what is wrong with me… I don’t know if it’s because I’m 40 or perhaps all the alcohol consumed over the years have killed off enough brain cells to affect my memory.

Let me explain…

Every month I pay the insurance bill on my truck. And 3 out of the last 4 months, I’ve been late in doing so. I’ve made notes on calendars. I’ve incorporated it on my daily “to do” lists and since that isn’t working… I’m thinking about putting reminders on my cell phone.

I meant to pay it on Friday and with all the preparations concerning 1075KZL’s Easter Egg Festival, I just flat out forgot. So I put it on my “to do” list for Monday.

With a break finally upon me last Monday, I didn’t even bother looking at my “to do” list. Again, it was forgotten about and money allocated for the insurance premium went elsewhere. I “threw” that money away on an eye exam and new contact lenses.

When I finally checked my “to do” list late last night, I noticed that I needed to pay my insurance bill. Damn! I was going to be a little short and so this morning, I robbed Peter and Paul to pay Mary. You know that Mary can be a total bitch.

As the defeated often say… Oh well…

When I read the Greensboro News & Record this morning… I found an interesting picture in the Local section. Here it is…

Please keep in mind that I don’t think it’s funny. I just think that it’s interesting.

I remember a time when I was a youngster attending Brightwood Elementary School and saw another kid get hit by a car. The car didn’t stop for the bus and the kid sashayed right into its path. I saw it, but I didn’t believe it. I didn’t even gasp or scream like the other kids that witnessed the event. I believe my exact word was “sh#t!”.

I just remember questioning why his shoes flew from his body landing on the pavement. They appeared to be tightly laced, but yet there they were… One shoe laying on its side and the other landing perfectly on its sole.

We heard that the kid was going to be all right and we who had witnessed the accident went on with business as usual. There were no grief counselors brought in because kids were as tough as nails back in my day. We didn’t wear helmets when we rode our bikes and we were quite aware that only the strongest and smartest survive. Today, counselors are seemingly brought in for the Homecoming Queen’s hangnail. Jeez….

Why do the shoes always come off when a pedestrian is struck by a car?

No matter how tightly the shoes are laced or in the picture’s case, how tall the boots are, footwear is often knocked off the wearer.

I just don’t get it.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Black Sabbath 'The Dio Years'

Spring is here and I can fully enjoy riding around in my truck Roxy with the windows down. And to make it even more pleasurable, the sound she was making since her engine was replaced has finally stopped. No longer does Roxy sound as if there’s a 700 pound cricket rubbing its legs together beneath the hood. She sounds normal and quiet. It’s starting to feel comfortable again.

The movies that I’ve been getting from Netflix have been really chokey lately. I gave Man Of The Year, My Super Ex-Girlfriend, Holiday, and Candy all 2 stars which means that I “didn’t really like” them.

I tried watching Eragon and that joker was tossed from my DVD player in under 20 minutes. It got only 1 out of 5 stars. It was derivative crap! I guess they were trying to capitalize on the same kind of junk that is Lord Of The Rings. Ugh! How I hated that pile of rat feces!

Thank Buddha that I got one of my older rentals in the mix… MST3K: Mitchell. That should cleanse the palate of all that cinematic rubbish that I’ve been seeing lately. Odd though… A bad movie with hecklers at the bottom of the screen used to cleanse the palate… Sometimes those cats are hilarious.

I started putting new releases in alphabetical order at the top of my Netflix queue. I do it so I can kind of stay up to date with new releases. There’s also a randomness that I enjoy because I never truly know what I will get next because some are on “short wait” or “long wait”. And sometimes those little “waits” don’t matter because they will surprise me from time to time by sending me something I had no hope of getting soon.

Is that an OCD?

Since I started putting the new releases at the top of my queue… I started getting behind and a logjam has occurred with my regular rentals that aren’t so new. So I have decided to mix those jokers in with the new releases. But only 5 at a time are in play with the rotation.

Am I sick in some way?

I don’t know, but I’ve always enjoyed the randomness that life will most definitely present you with. Perhaps it’s a gambling thing with me, I don’t know.

But I don’t really gamble… I have only played the Powerball lottery once since we’ve had it in North Carolina. The first day they had the scratch lottery type of cards out, I purchased 5. I have yet to purchase anymore of them. So it’s not like I have a problem with randomness, I just enjoy all the probabilities.

One gem that I have discovered with Netflix… The failed FOX TV series Wonderfalls. There’s only 3 discs of this fine show that didn’t make it and so far its riding between 4 and 5 stars. I will tell you more about it when I finish it.

Monday, April 02, 2007

The Non-Conformist Cult Radio Show 3/19/04 #2

Yesterday’s musical choice was GTR’s self-titled album. It was released back in 1986 when GTR was proclaimed a “super group” because of guitarists Steve Howe (Asia / Yes) and Steve Hackett (Genesis). “When The Heart Rules The Mind” had its own video and received minor airplay. I, for the most part, found the song tolerable.

I’ve had the CD in my collection since ‘86 and yesterday was maybe the second time that I have ever listened to it. It was my soundtrack as I drove over to Winston-Salem to have lunch and watch the race with Dianna.

With very little distractions, I found the CD by GTR to be most distasteful. It was awful! There’s no wonder why they only made one album. I’m sure the rest of the group was relieved when someone had the testicles to disband GTR.

I was tempted to throw the thing out of my window to do a 65 mph dance on the concrete surface of I-40 Business. But I’m leaving the CD in my collection because of one song… The instrumental “Hackett To Bits”. It does indeed rock.

As I mentioned previously, I watched the race from Martinsville at the Sagebrush off University Parkway with Dianna. Well… I don’t think she watched it as much as tolerating it being on. We pounded down some Red Oak beer and had lunch. And I discovered that I no longer dislike celery!

That’s right! I ate some celery!

They came with our wings and a little Stina’s voice whispered in my mind’s ear to try celery again.

I dipped a length of celery into my Ranch dressing and took a bite. At first, I didn’t really dig it and so I gave it another try. With each bite, the celery became less and less gross.

What in the heck is going on with me?

Foods that I absolutely despised are starting to appeal to me. I guess it’s true, your taste buds do a little changing and rearranging as we get older.

I managed to see all 500 laps of yesterday’s race. I was hoping that it was going to be rained out so that I may have attended it this morning. Oh well…

It did rain a little in Martinsville stopping the race for only a short bit. It was past the halfway point so there was nothing to get excited about. I guess someone else’s prayers for a full race won out over my rain prayers.

After the race, I went over to Tim Beeman’s crib to watch Wrestlemania 23.

It was probably the most boring Wrestlemania event that I have ever seen. I kept myself busy by drinking beer and playing around with Tim’s laptop.

Donald Trump managed to keep his golden locks while Vince McMahon got sheared in front of the thousands in attendance and the millions watching around the globe. Shawn Michaels did his usual juicing, but the flow of his blood didn’t live up to previous standards. And C.M. Punk’s little date with the blade was also a big disappointment.

I was not impressed and I’m glad I didn’t shell out my hard earned bucks to purchase it at home.

Sunday, April 01, 2007


Today, I’m praying for rain. It’s currently 8:37 on Sunday morning. The ground is wet and there’s a thick layer of clouds keeping the sun from shining. There’s a 40% chance of rain with scattered showers. And that includes the Martinsville, Virginia area.

The Goody’s 500 could be rained out today. And that would mean they would try to start the race tomorrow morning.

I REALLY wanted to go to this particular race because it will be a historic event in the world of NASCAR. It will be the first time that the “Car Of Tomorrow” races at Martinsville, one of the oldest and shortest tracks currently on the circuit.

I just want to be there and able to say that I saw the first COT race at Martinsville. And the second COT race in NASCAR’s history.

I’ve been at a couple of historic NASCAR events… I was at Jeff Gordon and Bobby Labonte’s first wins. I got to see Richard Petty race in his final season of competition at a short track that was phased out of the NASCAR schedule a long time ago… North Wilkesboro. I was also at the first night race at the Lowes Motor Speedway in Charlotte. Hell, I was even at a race where Dick Trickle (my fave at the time) finished in the top 10.

My friend Wally Harrison took me to my first race at N. Wilkesboro where the late Davey Allison won. And the last race I attended was at Martinsville where Dale Earnhardt won and later that day, we literally ran into him as he made his way to the media center.

I went with Sean Whitley and Marie, a girl I was seeing at the time. She was an Earnhardt fan and was pleased with the day’s race winner. We waited for the crowd to clear out, because you should never be in a hurry to leave a NASCAR race. There’s just no point. We took our time and finished all of our beer. We waited until the buzz wore off and headed for the parking lot.

We made our way around the concourse with various folks still wandering around. As we made our way around turns 1 and 2, there was a rush of people that came right at us. I mean right at us! Zombie movies don’t really prepare you for such things, but we feared for the worst. But they weren’t trying to eat our flesh, they pushed us aside.

Sean and I looked to our left, noticed that Dale Earnhardt was standing right beside us… We collectively said with no emotion whatsoever, “Oh.”

We didn’t like Dale Earnhardt and we didn’t care about meeting him, so we shuffled our sorry asses away from the mob. Then we saw the other driver that accompanied Mr. Earnhardt to the media center… We both pointed at him and shouted, “HEY! IT’S MIKE WALLACE!”

We were the only two people that stopped him in order to meet him. He was kind enough to chat with us for more than a few seconds before going inside.

I had lost Marie in the mad dash of the crowd. I didn’t see her until the flash flood of people dissipated and then we left.

I hope my prayers for a washout at Martinsville pay off for me. I sincerely hate that some folks won’t get to see the race because they have to work on Monday. I’ve been in those shoes at Darlington where we left thinking it was rained out (I was outvoted). We got to Seagrove when the green flag flew and we watched the rest of the race at Wally’s.

If it’s rained out today and you wanna go… Drop me an email and we’ll hook up on Monday…

And BTW, it's the first of the month and my MySpace picture has been changed! Check it out!