I am a workin' fool lately. All those late nights, weekend grinds, really started to wear a fella down. All that time in the office seemed to obliterate my workout regime/active lifestyle or whatever and it just made me tired and grumpy. I can't remember being so irritable in a long time. This last project culminated in one all-nighter right before the deadline that finally knocked me down.
Its yet another reminder that I am in fact getting older like a normal person. I just can't bounce back from that shit anymore. It took me about 3 days to get normal.
So where was I? I think I was going to tell you a Sean-do story.
I have long history of beating Sean at video games (yes, what an accomplishment!). Back in the 8-bit era we used to play a lot of "2-player" Super Mario Brothers. I put "2-player" in quotes because Super Mario Bros was as a 2-player game in the same way that 2 people masturbating, in separate rooms, at separate times, is sex.
Okay so maybe a different metaphor would sound less like incest.
Anyway. 2-player Super Mario Bros was intensely boring since you weren't really competing with one another. You were just taking turns at the regular one-player game. You didn't get to play until the other guy died. This created a fun little meta-game for me called, "How to trick Luigi-Sean into killing himself".
Me: I'm telling you Sean, I read it in Nintendo Power. You jump down that third hole and you actually get 10 free lives. It's awesome. I did it yesterday.
Sean: You are such a liar.
Me: No dude I'm telling you. THIS time I'm telling the truth. 10 free lives.
Now-a-days Sean and I compete most often in Madden Football. Madden video football is actually the game that got me interested in real NFL football and I've been playing it pretty avidly since 1994 or so. I've had a long relation ship with the game. Ran a few work tournaments (which I never managed to win...folded in the play-offs every year), and had a number of epic games with Discostup, I'm no expert, but a decent player.
I'm not sure what bit we are in these days. I think they stopped keeping track with the N64.
Regardless of the bits, the one-sided video-contest between my brother and I continues. I'm pretty sure Seando has never beaten me in Madden.
Recently both of us picked up PS3s. Sean was here in town visiting and found out that I had yet to purchase Madden this year and started talking all cocky. I don't know if he thought he was safe...or maybe he figured he'd gotten a jump on me since I hadn't played in a while...but he actually uttered these words, "Too bad you don't have Madden so I could beat the shit out of you in it."
We were in the car on the way to the game store within five minutes of this comment.
So how'd those first games go? Well I was indeed a lil rusty. I hadn't really played much madden in the past couple years. I couldn't remember any of my defensive adjustment tricks -- Line shifts, and hot routes...all that stuff was out the door. In the old days I had my offense set up and good to go. A scripted opening of 10 or so plays. I could read defenses had my dump-off receivers planned and could execute in the running game (although I always struggled against the zone-blitz).
None of that was firing on all cylinders that day.
I beat Sean in our first game by something obscene. like 30 points or something. These are 5 minutes quarters we are talking about here.
We played 3 or 4 games like that with one exception (Sean had a lead on me for 3 quarters only to give up like 3 or 4 touchdowns in the final 2 minutes. It was horrible...I couldn't stop laughing).
So Sean gave up for the moment. I thought it was over. But he calls me a few days later and tells me he wants to get on on-line game going. Fine.
Let me say one thing about Madden on-line. What a suck-fest. Everything that is fun and exciting about Madden football is destroyed by online competition. It's slow, and laggy and just plain stupid.
Sean loves it though...even when I continue to slaughter him over and over again. Marshall Faulk comes on before each game to predict the score. I think he bases his predictions partially on the teams each player chooses but also on their past performance as a "coach". Faulk was starting to give me +25 points in his pre-game prognostications.
The one good thing about on-line madden is that I have a working microphone hooked up to my PS3 and Sean doesn't. Which means I can trash-talk Sean the whole game and he's powerless to strike back. Its even more fun to imagine him throwing temper tantrums after giving up yet another red-zone interception.
Don't take this gloating the wrong way. Sean's winless online last I checked...and that's in like 20 or 30 games.
So if you are looking to pad your madden stats a lil (and you actually like playing on-line) look up "punkace". He'll be playing the Niners and dropping F-bombs like no tomorrow.
Here's a story about my brother. I spent the weekend in Reno visiting with him, his son, and my mom. I love my brother but he is a hard guy to get along with. He's sullen, and negative, moody, and (quite frankly) pretty self-centered. If you can get past all that and get him to lighten-up a little he's an alright guy.
He's recently gone through some difficult times with his ex-girlfriend and is currently living with my mom. Most of my visits to Reno are focused on seeing my mom and I get very little time to hang out with Sean. Not this visit. Sean and I even hit the town on a couple of the nights I was there. One of these outings involved a piano bar. I suppose the piano bar thing is fun if you can get past the fact that the people on stage are only one-step above wacky morning DJs. The whole experience was just that much more surreal when experienced with my brother. His personality doesn't really mesh well with that goofy party atmosphere.
One of the highlights of Sean time came when he asked me to take a look at his "broken" computer. In this case "broken" means "completely infested with viruses and spy-ware". I looked things over, cracked my knuckles, and advised my brother to get comfortable as this would take a while.
So began a long painful process of uninstalling a ton of programs (including a ridiculous piece of software that disguised itself as an anti-virus tool but really pasted ads up all over your windows), setting up anti-virus, running virus scans, etc.
The whole time my brother is pissing and moaning about how terrible his machine is and what a "piece of crap" he has to deal with.
I try to explain to him that even though viruses and spy-ware can be very sneaky, his problems were mostly the result of being an irresponsible user. This of course was an insult to him. He would reply in a voice full of shock and outrage, "I know how to use the internet. I didn't do anything wrong".
(This leads me to another on of his more charming traits. Dishonesty and defensiveness.)
"Sean" I said, "Look at this keyboard! Does this look like the keyboard of a responsible user!?"
My brother stood silent for a moment and than mumbled, "I guess I'll go buy another keyboard". He went off to Best Buy while I stayed behind and let the Virus scan do it's thing (it came up with over 200 objects and 15 trojans). He also didn't have any drivers installed for his video card which was putting a damper on the machines performance as well.
After about 2 or 3 hours I had the machine running great. I gave him a number of helpful instructions on how to avoid this stuff in the future and left him to surf the internet.
I wandered back into the room a few minutes later and found him hunched over the keyboard with a look of frustration across his face. Moving to see what happened I notice (amongst the myriad of pop-up windows springing up across the screen) that Sean had installed one of those random search engine tool bars onto his firefox browser.
So I lost it.
"SEAN! What the FUCK is that doing there?"
"What?"
"That fucking random-ass tool bar on your browser?! Why did you download that?!"
"I DIDN'T!"
At this point I blow my brains out. Or at least I wanted to.
I frequently forget that my mom had a fairly unorthodox childhood. When she was very young her parents split up and her father was awarded custody. Her mother lived in Los Angeles and spent most of her time as an alcoholic. Her father lived in Valley City, North Dakota.
Her parents are devout Jehovah's Witnesses, and she grew up in a very strict household. Her father re-married and had 4 more children. My mom is the eldest of the 5 by several years. This combined with the fact that she was the only child with a different biological mother probably made her a bit of an outsider.
One year, after staying with her mom in California for the summer she decided she wanted to stay in LA and go to school there. Her father denied her the permission and she in turn defied her father. Technically her mom "kidnapped" her and helped to prevent her from returning to North Dakota. Her father flew out to California to bring her home but was unsuccessful. Eventually she was tracked down by her aunt and uncle but when confronted she was told she could continue to live with her mother in LA.
As my mom grew into an adult she re-connected with her family, but she's always seemed pretty detached from them. I only remember seeing my mom's side of the family a handful of times...Maybe 3 or 4 times in all my 30 years.
This last weekend My mom and I got a chance to to spend time with the Berghs once more. Her dad - My grandfather - is pretty advanced in years and his memory is starting to fail him. I haven't seen him in about 15 years. It is more than likely that I will never see him alive again.
In 1996 the Cohen brothers gave us Fargo, which pretty much did to North Dakota what Bay Watch did to California...At least in the eyes of people who don't live in those respective states. Since my recent visit to this fly-over state took place in the summer, I can tell you that there is some beautiful weather in there. There's some nice scenery to go with it. It's a lot of green fields of soy beans, and big open skies. So in that respect the Cohen brothers' version of a Hoth-like wasteland perpetually blanketed in snow isn't the whole picture.
But the way people talk in that film is pretty much dead-on.
I was surrounded by people who use terms like "dog-gone" and "oh ya" "well fer goodness sake".
Valley City is a very slow place. On Saturday a group of us went for a walk around town. No one was out. Half the stores were closed. There really was nothing there except for a few gift shops selling nick-nacks, and maybe a bar.
Most of my trip was spent sitting on the porch, napping, sitting some more, playing the occasional card game, chatting, and more sitting. We did have some very unique accommodations. My uncle reserved the local universities guest house for all of us who were coming in from out of town. It was a very cool old building -- all wood floors, chandeliers, and a labyrinth like layout that connected the 5 or 6 rooms and 3 or 4 bathrooms.
This picture is compliments of some chick named Amy who I found on the internet...I don't know the people in the picture. I would have taken some video of the trip but I couldn't find my charger before leaving sooooo...Buttons.
It was also really great to see this part of my family again. It's a little strange to spend time with people who are part of your family and yet practically strangers. Frequently this can lead to a lot of "forced closeness", but everyone was genuinely warm and friendly. I really felt like everyone was especially glad that my mom made it out. She would later tell me that she felt a little like a celebrity.
Of course no family trip to No-Dak would be complete without a visit to the "Kingdom Hall" - that is...Church. "Kingdom Hall" always sounds like something out of Lord of the Rings to me. That or some sort of Norse mythology. I half expect to drive up to some immense structure built of rugged stone and lit by wood burning braziers. The sort of place that you find Thor locked in an arm-wrestling match with Beowulf.
Instead we found ourselves in a very modest building with about 30 other people listening to about 2 hours of sermons about Jehova. This side of my family (with the exception of my mom) are heavily devoted to their faith. Both sections of the service I attended were led by my uncles, and there were a lot of Berghs in the audience. In fact, the kingdom hall in Valley City is basically in my grandfather's front yard. It's pretty intense.
The first portion of the service was pretty standard stuff, "do good stuff live right, make sure god likes you." The second portion struck me as particularly strange. If you've ever come across a "Watchtower" pamphlet somewhere (I used to see them all the time in Laundry-mats), you have a good idea as to what it was like. This is because the second hour was spent reading through one of these pamphlets.
Basically one person reads and than asks the congregation questions about the reading. This particular reading seemed to essentially be about how the Jews are bunch of whining, ungrateful, complainers. If I was 100% cynical I would say that this lesson seemed to stress being complacent in all things. Really it was about the benefits of a patient and pleasant demeanor.
and about how terrible the Jews are. :p
You might think (being raised Jewish) that this was the part that made me the most uncomfortable. Actually it was the "question and answer section" that really made my jaw drop.
Basically my uncle would read a paragraph or so, and than turn to the audience with a question about those paragraphs. This seems like a good idea as it can obviously lead to some deeper understanding of the principles being discussed.
In reality it's just there to make sure people are awake. While sitting in the audience you would hear something like this:
leader: After the Israelites were delivered from bondage they began complaining to Moses. They asked him why he had led them into the desert to starve.
okay...So...After the Israelites were delivered from bondage...Who did they complain to?
If this weren't enough...Some people STILL couldn't answer the questions! I was in shock.
I was a little worried about being engaged in religious discussions over the weekend, but for the most part it was never brought up. I found myself in one pleasant discussion with my uncle about a few things, but I was never pressured about anything or asked about my own opinions. While I'm certainly not ashamed to be an atheist, I didn't feel like getting into it in that particular atmosphere.
So that was my weekend. I was glad to have made the trip although I could have done without staying all the way through Monday. Especially since most of my family left that morning which resulted in me spending most of my day in the Fargo mall.
The sad thing about the trip is that while it was certainly memorable for me, my grandfather's mind is not what it once was. He's likely to have already forgotten about our visit. He barely remembers my mom and I'm not sure he ever had any idea who I was. When I left his home on Monday I hugged him and said goodbye and he took me in his arms held me tight while saying, "who are you again?"
When the heavens open up and drink from the silver cup The creature thus be born! And blow the magic horn!
(Those lyrics are from Master Shake's idea of what should replace the standard birthday song.)
Well my brother is now a father, which makes me an uncle. A few years ago my brother was wearing the same outfit everyday for weeks at a time and peeing in the shower...even when he wasn't taking a shower. Now he's responsible for the growth and development of a brand new human.
I guess he's had some practice on several cats (many of which he's already pawned off on my mom).
My bro really has come quite a long way in the last few years. I'm still a lil curious to see how he handles fatherhood but I suppose I believe in him. Besides, I know he's got a good family to help him out.
I would love to see him start a blog that documents his thoughts and feelings as he begins this new stage of his life and compare that to Streamside.
So congrats to Seando and welcome to tha world Eli!
(so fuckin weird....)
Dating.
I don't think I know anyone who really likes "dating". At least as far as we understand the term "dating" to mean the act of searching for other singles. Even people who don't want to be tied down or married must admit that the potential for awkward and uncomfortable situations far outweighs the potential for successful pairing.
Dating is like flexing. When you look in the mirror and flex your muscles...that's really you, but it's not really you as you always are. Being single and meeting women is like keeping your entire life clenched up like that. Your always showing off your emotional muscles, your personality pecks, your brain's biceps. It's still you (unless your deceptive asshole), but it's always gotta be your BEST you.
Stand in front of the mirror and flex for about 2 hours...it's exhausting.
That's dating.
There are payoffs however. This weekend I got to experience such a payoff. When you do meet someone with whom you click with, there is this dizzying whirlwind of pulse- quickening excitement. Everything is all new and undiscovered. Jokes are twice as funny as normal, conversation is invigorating, and your ego is basically getting shot up with steroids.
So I had a good weekend. A couple people have already asked me about it and my answers seem to underwhelm. Suffice it to say I am cautiously optimistic. "So far so good" is a better way of putting it. I dunno what the long-term holds (if anything). I have no expectations either way.
There is this romantic notion of love-at-first sight, that sort of conflicts with how things usually happen. When you first meet someone people want to hear a definitive "She's the best" or "She's the worst", but really it doesn't work that way. You can't possibly know someone well enough in the early goings to determine how much time you want to invest in them.
People who say otherwise are misguided. You always hear the, "I knew from the moment we met that we would be together forever". These people are allowing their genitals to cloud their judgment.
Azeroth...from the windswept planes in the barrens of Kalimdor to the ghoulish horrors of the plaugelands of the Eastern Kingdoms, heroes of all types traverse and explore these lands. They battle for wealth, glory, and honor. Brilliant spells streak through the air, deadly steel flashes from dark shadows, and in the middle of it all is my mother -- one of the newest additions to the World Of Warcraft family.
[ If you don't know what World of Warcraft is you should skim through this to get some quick context. ]
My mom has never really played a video game beyond Pac-Man, so for someone to jump in to a complex, three-dimensional, virtual world like this is going to involve a very steep learning curve.
I think what initially drew my mom in, was the simple act of character creation. She had a lot of fun going through the small amount of options that allow a player to customize the look of her character. Initially my mom was disappointed to learn that if she wanted to play along side me, she would be unable to play some of the "prettier" alliance characters like Elves and Humans. Her initial reaction to the motley crue of Horde races (Trolls, Orcs, Undead, and the bull-like Taurens) was something just short of disgust. But as she got into it she was saying things like, "Ooo...I kinda like THESE tusks" or "I can't tell if should have green skin or blue skin".
Let's get one thing clear. My mom is a terrible WoW player at the moment. She needs to learn a lot of basic navigational-type skills that most people take for granted, even my contemporaries who don't consider themselves "gamers".
My mom really gets into it though. It's obvious because she reads EVERYTHING. Let me explain a lil. World of Warcraft is filled with computer controlled characters (also called NPC's) who stand around and give the players little tasks to fulfill. Completing the task will give the player various rewards and it's these tasks (or quests) that generally drive the game.
Many of the NPCs provide the player with multiple quests and quests that have multiple parts. This means that as a player you might interact with one particular quest-giver 4 or 5 times. Each time you talk to that quest giver (either to finish up a successful task or to embark on the next one) that NPC will greet you with the same lil blurb of text..something like: "The sun-baked earth and scorching sun of the Barrens is like a blazing forge from which great warriors are born" or something like that (but frequently much longer).
The NPC will say this every time you click on him...and my mom will read it (out loud) every single time. This is part of the reason why most people can accomplish 10 times as much as she can in the same amount of time.
There is an in game mail system and I received this letter from her yesterday (My charcter's name in this case is "Blackleaf", hers is "Greenstone"):
Greetings to Blackleaf!
I am Having some difficulty with those bastard prarie wolves and the huamnoids dwarves in he bramble------ravine.
I cannot win a fight with any of them and I am continually savaged. if you could help me with armour or spells I would appreciate it since it appears I cannout last much longer. Greenstone has advanced to level 4 on her own but needs much training.
This could be my last communication. I am in bloodoof village at the inn. thanks you for your help
There are a number of things that get my mom into trouble out there. First and foremost is that she has yet to really understand her place in the world. In otherwords: It's a world FULL of dangerous critters and my mom is a very myopic. She tends to focus in on one baddie that she needs to kill and run towards it without realizing that there are three or four more baddies to either side of her and often much closer.
So she ends up charging haphazardly into large groups of dangerous animals or villains, thinking that she's engaging one, when she's really going up against like 7 of them.
This goes along with just poor navigation skills in general. Most of our adventures together begin with me saying, "okay lets get going", and her shooting off into some totally random direction for about 3 seconds. At some point she realizes I'm no longer close by, and she executes a looooong slow circle tryin to find me.
(keep in mind that as a player you can simply and quickly rotate the camera view around to look for stuff...It's half the work and takes a fraction of the time than my moms method).
Now...It's important at this point for me to explain that I'm not at all complaining about this. I find it all very amusing and (in a way) endearing. I have big smile on my face during all these gaming sessions and frequently find myself laughing out loud at the perspective my mom has on all this stuff.
Another example of this came recently when I was trying to instruct my mom (who's character is NOT a cook...) on how to interact the computer controlled vendors:
ME: Okay mom, you need to apple-click on that vendor in front of me...no...no...stop moving...turn around. yea that guy. Apple-click on him and open your backpack.
(Long pause...probably while my mom is reading something)
MOM: Okay...
ME: Now apple-click on all the items you don't need to sell them.
(Even longer pause)
ME: Howsit goin over there? Did you sell some stuff?
(brief pause)
MOM: I Bought some spices!
For some reason this had me in stiches.
So I really do enjoy trying to help my mom struggle through this whole thing. Also, I don't often connect with my mom like used to, so it's really cool that she's taken up one of MY hobbies in an effort to find something we can enjoy together. That's really the best thing about it, and worth the frustration of tryin to teach her character how to swim underwater....she still hadn't figured it out actually. :)
First a cool Mashup featuring the Beatles versus a Song I inexplicably heard in a Toys R Us once.
well I had this whole long essay planned about movies that feature men tryin to understand their temporary place in the world and reconciling conventional ideas of masculinity against modern mores and values.
But it just wasn't flowing. There's some potential there so maybe I'll get it out later.
I had it tied into to issues of mortality and how people come to grips with it. Its an issue that's been on my mind lately because my grandfather has been hospitalized. Initially it was due to a broken hip, but he also suffered a stroke a few days later.
It looks like he will make a full recovery but there was some scary moments there for us. In the end modern medicine will be able to extend his time here with us, but we all know that such time is fleeting and who knows how many more years he's got with us.
In other news my video game world is in something of a golden age right now. While I still experience a bit of bloodshed in the form of battlefield 2. Most of my digital endeavors are much more high-minded. I'm either playing music, making movies, or trying to spread my own version of culture and governance across the world.
So to all those people who think gaming is full of degenerate mindless sec and violence...Well it is. But there are some other fun games out there that really aren't so bad. Plus degenerate violence rules (as long as its only make-believe)
First and foremost...In case you were wondering, "Bewitched" is bad. Neither Will Ferrell nor Nicole Kidman can save this film. Go rent "Old School" or "To Die For instead".
Last weekend I was asked to provide a little "light shuttle" service (meaning a golf cart was involved) for a party my Stepmother threw at her house. The party was some sort of crazy "Hen Night", no men allowed within the walls (except for a few scattered food servers and musicians).
Age range of said women: about 50 - 80. There were a fair amount of women on both ends of the scale.
AT the beginning of the night I ferried many of them from their cars to the front door. Some knew me, others didn't, everyone seemed polite and friendly. At about 7:30 everyone had pretty much arrived so I joined my dad for a steak dinner at a place down the road, returning close to 9:00 to start taking the party-goers back to their cars.
Peter B, who was a neighbor with his own golf cart and was helping me out, asked me to grab him a drink from inside and I happily obliged.
Bad idea.
The scene on the patio in the back yard was...Unique. Like someone combined the "Ya-Ya Sisterhood" with "The Dirt" It was all booze, chocolate fountains, and awkward dancing.
At one point, 2 severely intoxicated older women grabbed me by my arms and began to earnestly engage me in conversation.
woman 1 - Your Mike's son aren't you?
me - that's right.
woman 1 - You're very handsome...You look just like your father.
me - well thank-you very much
woman 1 (turning to woman 2) - doesn't he look just like Michael?!
woman 2 (grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me close) - I don't know who you look like...But you're really handsome.
I barely made it out of there alive.
A couple quick things.
I saw two cool bands who I was relatively unfamiliar with recently. Coheed and Cambria, which struck me as a total David (My friend from UCSC) band. Sorta good solid hard rock with a science fiction story driving all the lyrics. They were at Comic-Con as well.
I also saw Devotchka thanks to Liz's suggestion. This was a fantastic show and made me think of another friend of mine who seemed like she practically belonged in that band. It was sorta all over the road...Gypsy, Mexican, rock-abilly, craziness.
It's no secret...Grandmothers love grandkids. They especially love the little grandkids. It should be no surprise then, that once the first round of grandkids grows up (say by the time they are around 30), the Grandmother starts jonesin for another fix....They start pining for the great grandkid.
Some grandmothers will go to great lengths to try and get this to happen.
They'll cheat, lie, and steal their way into a new bundle of joy.
It's true...My grandma has no confidence in my skills. In her mind...I got no game. So when she's in Chili's for example...and she sees a waitress who seems nice. She gets her phone number FOR ME, and spends the next few days calling me and asking me if I've used it yet.
So last night I used it. I called this girl...Apologized to her for my grandmother's harassment and asked her out for a drink. She basically said, "what the hell...Why not".
I stopped by to visit with my grandparents this weekend. About half way through my time there My grandfather (I've always called him "Poppi") went into his room to get something he wanted to show me.
He came back carrying some old photographs. I had never seen a picture of my great-great-grandmother before. There was a picture of her sitting by a swimming pool...She looked young. There was also a couple picture of my great-great-Uncle Gus.
He musta been important to Poppi cause there were a lot of pictures of him. He looked confident...A tad surly even. Like some old mafia guy or something. There was a picture of my Dad and Aunt when they were kids that I had seen before and three or four photos of my grandfather from when he was in the service in the Philippines during World War II.
He's lean and strong, and wearing a smile that's all business.
Poppi loves talking about the old days. He tells a lot of his stories over again, but I always listen -- Sometimes politely telling him I had heard the story before. He sighs and smiles and says, "yea that's a good one".
My grandma hates it when Poppi talks about the old days. I think she gets so annoyed for a number of a reasons. I would guess that the biggest reason is that she sees it as a sign of his mental decay. Poppi's still pretty sharp though for his age. Grandma's also heard all this stuff thousands of times before...so she's a lil tired of it.
While I've heard a lot of Poppi's war stories before I've never heard him tell me the whole story from start to finish. My grandfather joined the service in 1942. He chose to enlist in the navy mostly because he didn't want to get drafted into the army. He was a gunner on a merchant-ship transporting supplies all over the place. Australia, Chile, New York, England.
His boat was actually scheduled to go through the U-boat infested waters that led to a Russian port, but he managed to find out about it and put in for leave before the boat headed out.
He eventually became a Navy Pilot and flew a few missions before getting married...At which point the brass told him he couldn't fly any more. The details were hazy, but apparently there was some rule about going through pilot training and getting married...I dunno. For whatever reason he wound up in the Philippians after the marines had landed there and cleared the islands of Japanese resitance.
My grandfather seemed to spend most of his time there handing out malaria medicine and cleaning the place up a bit.
As his story was drawing to a close my grandma yelled at him a bit and he got really defensive.
"Just bear with me for 2 more minutes! Can you do that for me!?" Grandma huffs a bit but lets him finish.
"There that wasn't so bad was it?" He says later. "Had you heard all that before" He asks me. "Not all of it no".
"Well the parts that you had heard before...Have they changed at all? Still sound accurate?"
"No it all sounds just the same as before."
"A-ha!" he says with a satisfied smile.
I told him that he had yet to win the entire war single-handed and I had never heard about any big battles he'd been a part of. I was kidding about that cause I had always assumed that my grandfather had never taken part in any battles...eventhough he was a gunner.
"well..." He said and his face darkened just slightly, "Those stories are too...Well..They are too gory for your grandma. We won't talk about those -- They aren't important".
Garfield and Odie. Eminem and Elton John. Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan. Mel Gibson and Danny Glover. Odd couples…everyone loves em. I got a chance to witness some real life odd couple action this weekend while in Las Vegas.
Senior Dips: My beloved cousin. Sometime during his transition between high school and college my cousin went from being something of a shy loner, to an outrageous player. He’s got no fear when it comes to approaching women, and he loves to talk about the philosophy that gives him such courage. “I feel sorry for them when they’re not interested. I really do man. I feel bad for them…they’ve got problems.” Recently Senior Dips moved to Vegas and the rest of us couldn’t be happier for him Rarely does a place and a person come together so nicely.
Mike G: My roommate. Mike G is quiet and shy. He’s kind and thoughtful and soft-spoken. He’s a good guy, but you can easily loose track of him in a big group. Since I’ve known him he’s become more and more extroverted and social….but he’s still a long way from Senior Dips. Senior Dips (by the way) LOVES hangin out with MikeG.
So I was very excited to see my cousin and my roommate interact against the glitzy backdrop of sin city. My number one priority for this trip was to get the three of us to a strip club. We pulled into OG’s at around 11:30pm…probably just a little before “primetime” and it showed a bit in the quality of the initial dancers who came to our table. In fact The second dancer was something of a nightmare…
A quick aside: I’ve been to a strip club on a number of occasions. It’s not generally my first choice of things to do…but it can be fun with a good group of people. I generally am a little conflicted when I walk into one of these establishments. Pangs of liberal guilt mingle with genuine excitement and the sort of thrill that comes along with doing something slightly seedy. So for me, anything that disrupts the actual “fantasy” of the club and forces me to realize exactly what I’m doing and where I am is bad. One such thing, is ugly dancers. Dancers like the second one who came to our table.
The fiction is supposed to go like this: I’m an irresistible dude, and the stripper is the hot chick who is so overcome with desire, that she can can’t help but writhe and grind in my general direction. The passing of money from me to her is a slight but easily overlooked distraction to the whole thing. When the ugly dancer prances on stage, the whole illusion is dispelled. If she’s not the hot chick, than maybe I’m not the irresistible sex-magnet I thought I was. Maybe I’m just a pathetic pervert, too cheap to throw this woman a dollar bill, and too lazy to pretend to like her. She’s supposed to pretend to like ME…does it have to go both ways?
Anyhow…I was saved from having to deal with that mess thanks to a timely phone call from my buddy Iwan (Thanks buddy!). It was a good thing he called because “the ugly one” apparently started calling people out (including Mike G) for not wanting her around (and not giving her any money). The rest of the S-club experience was entirely positive though. I got a big kick out of watching my roommate in that “fish out of water” experience. I later got a bit of a reprimand from him though when he said (slightly annoyed), “You know I’ve been to a strip club before.”
“How many times?” I asked.
“Once.”
Meanwhile my cousin had positioned himself at the table so that he was sitting right next to the small set of stairs that the dancers used to get on and off the stage. Not a dancer (save for the ugly one) escaped a small conversation with Senior Dips as they swept up their tips and bits of clothing. I don’t think he got any phone numbers but that doesn’t mean he didn’t try.
It would have been a moot point anyway since he would have only sought them out to see if he could get them. He happens to be dating a nice young lady who I met the following day. The fact that he was somewhat spoken for didn’t stop him from approaching all sorts of PYT’s as we cruised around Vegas. He simply approached them all on my behalf. It was a lot of fun. Senior Dips did all the hard parts (making the initial contact) and then would just pass ‘em off to me. I’m not sure if this actually came across well to the women we talked to…if it did, it didn’t show.
The standard opening line went, “Hi there, have you met my cousin yet?” (The yet part I found particularly amusing). For my part I played along as best I could. One girl was a cocktail waitress, who was friendly but busy. Another girl reacted with a mixture of confusion and terror – She ended up running away while my cousin called after her, “Where are you goin!? You should come party with us!” But the women we got the furthest with was probably the scariest.
A striking, waifish blond (who later identified herself as “Nikayla”), looking lost, wandering through the casino. Her eyes lit up when asked if she wanted to party with us, “Yeah! You guys have some drugs?”
(long pause)
“Because I really want to do some ecstasy.” She continued earnestly.
We couldn’t help her, and something about her whole story didn’t ring true. Let’s add it up:
-Hot girl
-Alone in Vegas
-In town to model for Prada
-Just wants to party with some ecstasy
-Lost
-From a small Midwestern town.
She didn’t dress sluty, but something told me that if we ended up in a hotel room with her we’d eventually be facing down a pimp lookin’ for a couple hundred dollars. I never got a chance to find out though. After using my cell phone to place a couple of fruitless calls to the mysterious “Tony”, she walked off responding to my cousin’s pleas for party time with, “Sorry!”
Ahhh….good times. I wish I had a little more of my cousin’s moxie. I don’t even think it comes down to confidence, it’s not like he feels he could or should score with every girl he talks to…he just doesn’t care what they say, unless they say “yes”. It’s more like apathy really.
Other than that, the trip was filled with great food, and great wine (thanks to my pops) and a relaxing Sunday spent at the sports book. It was one of the best Vegas trips I’ve had and I didn’t even gamble that much -- Just a few parlays for the Sunday games (I won one and lost two…grossing about 15 bucks).
The Rollercoaster ride continues. I dunno what sorta doctors these two people are going to, but apparently the reports of the miscarriage were slightly exaggerated. They were exaggerated in such a way as to be totally false.
So the girl is still pregnant. I talked to my brother again last night. When I called him I was resolved to not "lecture" too much. I knew that he had already gotten a lot of that, and I just wanted to try and be more of a friend than an enemy.
I'm not sure if it worked out the way I had planned. The biggest problem is that I just don't believe that Sean understands exactly what he's getting himself into once this kid gets born. I just don't think he has any idea.
At one point he said something like, "I'm just so stressed out right now". To which I replied, "Right now? Geez Sean...Just wait till you actually have to take care of this kid."
I tried to explain to him that right now, he's constantly broke, and barely able to keep himself fed, and soon he'll be responsible for feeding and caring for three people. I tried to explain to him that all the things that he likes to do, he pretty much won't be able to do anymore.
He seemed bummed, and I could tell I was putting him on the defensive...But I think he at least pretended to listen to what I was saying.
I have decided to grace this blog with a new post.
My regular readers (aka my three or four friends who read this) already know that my family was engulfed by some serious drama over the last few days. The short version goes like this:
My brother got his girlfriend pregnant. The girlfriend (who already has one child, and who is not too well liked in some circles) was unwilling to get an abortion and so Sean-DO was suddenly looking down the barrel of fatherhood.
Four of five days later, before the scandal really had time to take off, I got a message on my voice mail from my cousin asking me if I "heard the good news". The good news was that the pregnancy "didn't take" and the girlfriend miscarried.
That's right...A miscarriage was considered "good news" by all.
I guess it's one of those "tribal arm band" tattoos that the frat boys love.
pundits agree that his "painted lady" girlfriend was a big influence on this decision.
My cousin and I were laughing about it because my brother's arms aren't exactly huge. To quote my cousin, "If you're gonna get that tattoo you gotta at least hit the gym for a few months! I'll bet that was the quickest tattoo job that guy ever did!"
Reno is a curious place. It's a place I've never really liked that much despite it being a city with plentiful opportunities for gambling and it's close proximity to several good ski slopes.
My mom loves Reno though and so I travel there every once in a while to visit her.
My mom.
My mom is an interesting, unique lady. She's always been a great and caring person...And put her heart and soul into raising her kids. Somewhere along the line she morphed into a hard-core conservative. It's probably the one thing that puts a real strain on my relationship with her.
This is not to say it's impossible to get along with people who have opposing political views with you. Healthy respectful debate is all fine and good. The things with my mom though, is that politics just create too much tension between us. At the end of the day I can only assume that we have so little respect for each other's opinions in this arena.
The basic idea here is that whenever I'm around her, I do my best to avoid political discussions of any kind. It just gets both of us angry.
Now...Cut to me waking up Saturday morning (the morning after I arrived in Reno) at her place. My mom walks in the room, turns on the radio and says, "I really need to listen to this....". Rush Limbaugh's voice fills the room.
"Fine" I think to myself. I don't mind listening to this for a lil while. Always good to get a fresh perspective, bla bla bla. An hour passes.
"So you wanna head out?" I say.
"Nah, I like to lounge around in the morning when I can. We'll leave in a little bit."
After another hour of Limbaugh we head out for a hike. It's a fairly long drive out to Donner Lake, and on the way we got to listen to Sean Hannity.
Finally the drive ends and we head out on our hike. Which was awesome. A beautiful sunny day, a brisk but mellow climb, and a fantastic view of Donner Lake from the high peaks of the Sierra Nevadas. We both agreed it was a very special place.
My mom changed the radio station to a country and western channel for our ride home. Upon our return we chilled out in front of the tube to enjoy some Bill O'Rielly, on the Fox News Channel.
At this point I was about to go crazy.
I mean...If the situation were reversed and she was staying with me, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't sit her down to 2 hours of the Al Franken show, followed by a special showing of Fahrenheit 911....Mostly because she'd end up shouting at various stereos and televisions all day.
The result of all this is that it tends to force me into a shell. I don't feel like talking about anything for fear that it might spark another pointless political word-storm.
My solution? Start changin the channel. I played the "guest card" and started taking over radio and television duty.
:)
Everything else about the trip was good. I got to ride around on my mom's Vespa (which is basically a motorcycle...The thing goes 80 mph). Had dinner with my bro, and rented a bunch of movies. Good stuff.
Last Thursday my dad invited me over to his house for dinner with "the boys". Said boys have all been good friends with my dad since before I was born, so I've known them my whole life. It was a neat sorta honor to be invited into that inner-circle. Like times of old, the elder men of my village sat in a round, feasted on meat, and spoke of those things that matter most in life -- Like whether or not female, Olympic gymnasts shave their pussys and/or have sex.
It was a cool, surreal experience. I especially enjoyed watching the discussion get more and more raunchy as the night wore on and as the wine flowed more easily. Even the more "prudish" members of the group began to succumb is time wore on. It was hilarious.
It was also interesting to hear all these guys speak about the various choices they made, their genuine perspectives on raising children, modern life, and menopause. The guys who were raising teenaged girls lamented over the skimpy outfits they wore. The guys who were raising teenaged boys lamented over the fact that their sons didn't seem to have enough sex with those girls.
good stuff.
On Friday H-bomb and I decided to find out if Gigli is as bad as everyone says it is. Basically...it is. It's amusingly bad though. Ben Affleck (with his infrequent "goodfellahs Italian gangster" accent) has got to be the worst actor in the world. Have you ever seen a regular person put in a situation where they are forced to perform in front of an audience? Like in a Karoke bar? Usually they get up and they have this sheepish grin on their face. As the background music starts they often make a decision. It's a decision to try and be bad, rather than try to be good and just be bad. They sorta have this look on their face like, "Hey I know I'm a bad singer...So I'm gonna be goofy and silly, and laugh at myself or being so bad".
This is the way that Ben Affleck looks when he acts. He's always got this expression on his face that says, "I can't believe I'm acting over here!"
I'm a lumberjack baby. I'm gonna cut you down to size. I'm a lumberjack baby. And you're the one that gets my prize
I got a phone call a couple nights ago from the one and only Sean-DO! Hollywood Sean was a little bummed (he gets blue whenever the Lakers lose and whenever the 49ers lose).
He was talking about moving back to San Diego, and how he was worried about being stuck in Reno. He also started talking about how poorly he was being treated by our mother. The same woman who was allowing her 26 year-old son to stay with her. The same woman who was charging him only 200 dollars a month (and was not too strict about collecting it), and feeding him for free on an almost daily basis.
He also got on her case about not earning enough money and basically accused her of being stingy. So I got a lil defensive of my mother (I mean it was her birthday that day for fucksake). In the process of that conversation I told Sean that most guys his age paid their own rent (rent that is often time 2 to three times more expensive than his), bought their own food, and paid their own bills and that Sean did none of these things.
At that point my little brother started crying and sobbed, "Basically you think I'm just a big fuck up".
So that led to another long conversation about how he was perfectly capable of supporting himself, he just had to do it. This led to *gasp* a lecture by me on financial responsibility. I know I know - wolves and sheep, pots and kettles, foxes and hen houses.
But I promise you it was sound advice and I'm not _quite_ as bad as I once was.
That said: The following day I received a phone call from a thrift store claiming I had written them a bad check for 18 some-odd dollars a year ago and they had been trying to track me down for some time.
The more things change...
At least it didn't end up costing me a grand. The lady who runs the store doesn't like posting bad checks, so I only had to give her a couple extra bucks to cover a nominal bank fee.
In my defense I don't recall her ever calling me about this, despite her claims to the contrary. I also don't remember running around my high school with a pistol though. Who knows what other crazy skeletons are waiting to come out of my closet.
I returned today from a weekend trip to Reno where I was visiting with my mother and brother. I wish I could explain what it is about that city that I find so completely depressing. The snob in my thinks it has something to do with all the whitetrash that seems to haunt the town. I'm sure part of it has to do with the fact that my parents split up while living in Reno as well.
It was good to see my mom and brother though. Most of my trips to visit mom involve a lot of movie watching and this trip was no exception. We rented movies watched movies that happened to come on TV and went to the movies. We saw two in the theatre this weekend. The first was "Secret Window" with Johnny Depp. I found it to be pretty disappointing all around. I don't recommend it.
We also managed to catch the big screen adaptation / spoof of Starsky and Hutch. S&H was much more entertaining...despite being pretty stupid in it's own right. The "let's make fun of the seventies" joke wears a little thin, but the whole "Old School" crew + Owen Wilson made for good times and a few laughs.
Perhaps the highlight of my trip came after I decided to grab a softdrink while hanging around my mom's apartment. I almost never drink sodas but something compelled my to grab a "Squirt" and chug (I blame all the bright colors of the packaging). I wandered the apartment and eventually settled in front of my brothers Game Cube. Lost in that polygonal world, I absent mindedly grabbed for the can of soda that sat on the desk nearby. It was cold and about 3/4 full...and thinking it was mine...a took a big gulp or two.
Suddenly my mouth tasted like I had been giving head to a exhaust pipe. I spited out whatever was left in my mouth and gazed in dismay as chunks of cigarette ash dribbled out from my lips.
"EEAAAUGH!! Fuck Sean!!! What the hell is with that soda can in your room!?!"
"oh yeah...heh...I needed and ash tray and that was the closest thing I could find"
Let me tell you...Cigarette ash and citrus soda-pop is a vile fucking combination. I'm pretty sure I have mouth and stomach cancer as a result.
that's my bro after a hard days work.
My brother is really a mystery to me. His personal habits are awful. Any meal that isn't purchased for him is a fast food meal. This morning he had a chocolate bar and a soda (presumably it was "sans ash") for breakfast. He's so irresponsible that he makes me look like some sort of well-organized accountant or something by comparison.
There has been much debate over how to "handle" my brother. How best to guide him into something resembling adulthood. For the most part the battle lines are drawn across a "nurture" versus "tough love" approach...my mom favoring the later.
It's interesting to see how she administers said TL now that Sean is basically in her charge. My mom told him initially that he had to only a limited amount of time that he could stay with her. Once he got a job they set a 6 month time limit. He's also supposed to pay her 200 dollars a month for rent and 50 dollars a month for food.
He's about 5 months behind on his "rent". Some time back he also proclaimed that rather than pay the 50 bucks a month for food he would just fend for himself and buy his own food. Now all he buys in McDonald's and still eats anything that my mom puts in the fridge.
A few weeks ago he told my mom he wanted to extend his stay with her for another year so he could "save up money". The day after my mom agreed he went to a car dealership by himself and bought a car....going from a $0-per-month car payment, to a $400 -per-month car payment. Yes...we are pretty sure he got ripped off (I think he paid over 20 grand for a 2-year old, used Civic.)
After all that my mom still refuses to make good on her threats to kick him to the curb.
* Mike Graessle (my roommate)
* Mike Roston (My pops)
* Mike Stuparich (My buddy from high school)
* Mike Humphrey (My buddy from college.
Nice work me.
Anyhow...This has been a festive weekend of sorts. Friday night...I did nothing...(that's not the festive part)
Saturday I visited with my dad who is recovering from Hernia surgery. (he's doin fine). Saturday night I went to a wedding. I feel like weddings have become my hobby. Some people like to skateboard, some people like to go to clubs. I go to weddings. Which is okay because weddings are fun. But I may be ready for a new hobby soon.
BAMW (Banned At My Wedding)
Here are a list of songs banned at my wedding (if I ever have one). This is by no means a complete list and as such...a work in progress:
- Celebration
- We are Family
- Play that Funky Music White-boy
- YMCA
- Shout (by the Isley Bros)
- Mambo no. 5
- Macarena
- Chicken Dance
- Love Shack
That's all I can think of for now, but I know there's more. Anyone requesting these songs at my wedding will be forced to pay for their dinner and be asked to leave (and no you can't have your gift back).
The wedding I went to did play some of these offending songs, but salvaged the evening as time wore on and played some good fun stuff. So that was good good good.
Sunday the aforementioned college pal of mine, Mike Humphrey, decided to pay me a visit and drove down from Long Beach...basically so we could play Mario Kart all day. This particular Mike was my primary adversary in Mario Kart battles/races (Mario Kart 64 style) back in the day. So we had some nostalgic fun and I didn't have to deal with the pain of another Charger defeat.
Also on Sunday: Soccer, The Make-Up Game. Don't be fooled! We did NOT run around the field with eye-liner and mascara on. It was to make up for the week of the wild fires when the air was too poor to play in. We played short-handed for much of the game with no subs against a team with 3 subs.
You might think we lost.
You would be wrong.
Huzzah.
In other news I will finish A Game of Thrones on the morrow. I expect I'll be picking up the second installment of the series soon after...If I don't get peer pressured into reading the Da Vinci Code first.
In response to my last post Eric sent me a link to illustrate the proper way to be sexually suggestive. Makers of "Sackup" products please take note. Thanks Eric!
Here's a neat picture:
From left-to-right that's my brother Sean, my cousin Eric, and me. Sean recently moved to Reno to recover from his latest tragedy and spend some time with my mom. My brother and I rarely spoke while he was living here in the same city as me, but since he moved away it seems like he calls me a couple times a week. He mostly calls before football games to find out which teams I think will win / cover the spread, and then after those football games to ridicule me for whatever picks I get wrong. It's pretty funny.
A couple nights ago my buddy James and his band Filth Juggernaut played down at Brick by Brick. It was a big show for them because they got to open for a major label band called Clutch. I had actually seen Clutch many years ago when they opened for Bad Religion and I remember thinking they were pretty solid, so I was only to happy to go and support James and his bandmates. The show was pretty good (considering that I'm not overly fond of their style of music). So huzzah for James.
In other news my soccer team is 4-0 right now. We've added a new player. You might call him a "ringer". You might be right. It's amazing how one player can turn your whole team around. It's also possible that we are playing less capable opponents this season as well. Either way...it's nice to be on the winning side more often than not.
I just realized that my last post began numbered ("First: My Seattle Trip") but was really only about one topic...
...I just blew your mind.
The ballad of Sean-Do (sung to the tune of "A Boy Named Sue")
Just kidding. I'm not going to try and work that out...maybe some day. I'll just say that Life aint easy for a boy like Sean-do.
The latest chapter in Sean-do's life involves he and his girlfriend. They had made plans to move out to Austin, Texas recently. So committed, Sean quit his job, closed down his 401k account to pay for a moving truck, and arranged to have the house that he was living in sold.
Keep in mind that while Sean was supposed to be paying rent, my dad (who owns the place) had effectivly been paying his rent. His woman -- had also been living there --without even having to pretend to pay for anything.
After he had done all that, his lady-friend decided that she actually didn't want to move to Austin after all and that instead she was staying here in California, and moving in with a friend of hers.
Sean has a way of becoming very attached to people and I don't think he realizes that he's being dumped. Plus he has no job, no where to live and a big rental truck full of nowhere to go.
