Thank you for visiting. All of our blog posts are currently assisting other visitors. Your visit is very important to us. Please stay online and the next available entry will be with you soon. Your approximate wait time is…
I really can't say, right now. If or when it happens, it'll just happen. Good things come to those who wait, relatively speaking.
All over America thousands of men and women are banding together in a radical form of protest. What started out as a call to action against the passing of Prop 8 (aka: Prop H8, Prop "Hate") by removing ourselves from the work world (similar to the work stoppage of 2006's "A Day Without A Mexican") has gone one better. Rather that dropping off the face of the earth for a day by not working or contributing to the economy as originally suggested, today DWAG supporters of all orientations will be volunteering their time and giving back to the community. In other words, today we're fighting H8 with love. And in a nice bit of coincidence, today is also International Human Rights Day.
Today I will be joining at least one of my coworkers at the SF Food Bank to help sort and package food, and whatever else they need help with to ensure that no one in SF goes hungry this winter. I'm looking forward to being able to help there again. There seems to be quite a bit of news coverage about today, from the looks of a quick Google search. Let's hope that it doesn't get cast in the wrong light, and that no one goes out and does anything negative in the name of the day.
OK, gotta run…I don't want to be late!
I've been going through a bit of a creative dry spell recently. Photography isn't doing the trick. Graphic design felt forced and unnatural. And as for writing, well, the absence of a post here for days should speak for itself.
But sometimes inspiration can strike in the most unexpected of places and reasons. This time it struck when I was font shopping at Veer.com and while browsing the merch section stumbled across this scarf created from uppercase letters in Helvetica. Not sure how warm it would keep a neck, but at least it'd be the most literate neck around. The laser cut letterforms really made an impression on me. It's such a striking look, and one I thought might be fun to recreate and make into a project.
I had reason to send someone a thank you card and it seemed to me like a great opportunity to make the card rather than buy a commercial one. So after finding the right weight of Helvetica for the job, the layout began. And while it took longer to design the layout of the card than I'd like to admit, the actual production of the card was a bit trickier than I had expected. It's been many many years since I had to wield an x-acto blade for artwork and am woefully out of practice. All the straight lines were pretty easy, but that curvy "s" took as long as the rest of the card did. If I do this again, better paper will be needed as the paper I used didn't fold crisply, the grain of the paper was not working to my advantage. Plus it might be nice to have a laser cutter do the trimming…maybe Santa will bring me a table top laser cutting machine.
Overall I think the results are satisfactory. Not as clean and accurate as I would have liked, but I don't think the recipient will notice or even care. Which now makes me question why even do it. Well, at the very least the strike of creative inspiration, while not igniting a full-on fire, has started a smoldering that, hopefully, if fed the right fuel will turn into a burning passion again.
Very good! Will it become a holiday classic? Eh, probably not, but it is filled with lots of laughs nonetheless. The heart of the movie is actually the relationship between the couple played nicely by Reese Witherspoon and Vince Vaughn, so really it's a romantic comedy that just happens to take place during Christmas rather than being a full fledged family holiday comedy. National Lampoon's "Christmas Vacation" this is not, and that was a little disappointing to me. As a date movie, it's pretty decent, but I might think twice about bringing the whole family along. That said, I give the writers kudos for showing us that even divorced families, while not always living up to our expectations, are still family, especially at the holidays. Even the white-trash ones!
Posted with LifeCast
Did you miss any part of the series? Catch up here with this link.
We're more than halfway through. Hey, why are you cheering?!
After eating so much tasty, high calorie, high starch, high fat food last night, and the copious amounts of unbelievably delicious artisan breads today, I'm afraid I'm simply too lazy drowsy to post anything of value, interest, or deep thought tonight. Some of you might chime in saying, "You haven't posted anything like that before, why start now?" Yeah, yeah, yeah. More tomorrow, smartasses.
Yet again, taken out of context, the following could raise an eyebrow or two.
4-year old nephew: "Do you want to be a bad girl?"
4-year old niece-in-law: "Well, yeah!"
***
bro-in-law: "He usually does OK if he gets the head into his mouth and not just on his lips."
***
And it's this last one that has reenforced my faith and confidence in the suburban undercover white trash family unit.
4-year old nephew: "Ow! Uncle Kenny, she hurted my dick."
Uncle Kenny: "Well, that's what bad girls do. Just be glad it was only her hands."
Now I'm not sure how my nephew managed to pick up that adultish slang word, but it's better, if only marginally, than my own family's slang word of "mister" when referring to the penis. (My mother was a registered nurse for heaven sakes, you would think she'd be able to use the clinical terms comfortably with us.) The last time I visited my nephew he left me stunned with his reaction to my seemingly innocent request to stop doing Ninja-style kicks near my groin. Upon one of a little-too-close-for-comfort attempts I snapped, "Hey, watch it, mister!" To which he replied, "I'm not mister…! THIS is mister!" and he proceeded to flash me. YIKES! As a gay man, I'm living under enough misconceptions and irrational stereotypes already, the last thing I need is a preschooler doing that and someone walking in not having been there for for the first half. So yes, I'm glad he's moved on in his slang vocabulary because the chances of me calling him a dick and getting a repeat performance are far, far less likely.
A few years ago I had a special opportunity to visit New York City for a weekend. So totally not long enough to take in all that is the thriving, full of life, a story around every corner, metropolis. The group I was part of were given a private sightseeing tour of Manhattan and one of the places we stopped was the site formally known as the World Trade Center. It was a powerful and reflective experience. It was at the site that I first learned about StoryCorps. This fascinating project's mission is to honor and celebrate one another’s lives through listening. I dig that. So when I learned of the National Day of Listening taking place on Friday, November 28, I jumped right in head first.
Now if that date sounds vaguely familiar, you might recognize it better as Black Friday…the day of the humongous day-after-Thanksgiving Day sales where people camp out waiting for stores to open where they can then proceed to elbow, push, and trample their way to the limited-quantity half-off old-fashioned kettle corn popper they never knew they needed or will ever use more than once. Needless to say, there's going to be some competition for time that day.
Well, I don't know about you, but this year I've learned to embrace the simple truth that "the only thing you take with you when you're gone is what you leave behind." —John Allston. So maybe this year is the year to start thinking more about the quality of our actions rather than acquiring more possessions. Heaven forbid the economy gets any worse because people stop buying things altogether, so please feel free to get out there and spend some money. All I'm suggesting is that maybe society would be a little happier, the world a bit nicer, if we made positive actions as much of a priority. Actions like listening, truly listening, to someone.
I've used StoryCorps' online tool to build my list of questions to ask the various important people in my life. My family will be easy to interview, but my friends and I will be separated by many many miles, making for a bit of a challenge. We'll just have to wait and see if technology can come to the rescue. (I'm not worried at all.)
So if you're at all interested, even just a little bit, in participating in the National Day of Listening, click on over to the website and get ready to make a new personal connection, or deepen an existing one, and start building a positive legacy that will out live the two dozen tube socks you scored for a dollar.
So I tried to post an entry using LifeCast, but, well…
…as you can see by the little spinner in the lower right corner of the screenshot, posting has been taking a little longer than normal. 3 hours longer than normal. In fact, the posting is still stuck in LifeCast. I pray for the day that MarsEdit comes to iPhone…because even thought LifeCast is free and all, it leaves a lot to be desired. Such as successfully posting my lame entry. *Sigh*
It's been a long day. I'm going to bed.
Did you miss any part of the series? Catch up here with this link.
There are only two simple rules to follow if you care to follow along at home:
1. You can only answer "yes" or "no"
2. You aren't allowed to explain anything in your answer. Just "yes" or "no." Of course, if someone asks for more details about an answer, all bets are off.
Ready for more? Well, let's just pretend you are…
Some of you out there on the interwebs may have read recently that Cinemark CEO Alan Stock made a nearly $10,000 contribution to the Yes on Prop 8 campaign. You remember that campaign, don't you? The one designed to, if passed, to take away the rights of same-sex couples to marry. Well it passed. I still can't believe that it did. I honestly thought that my fellow Californian would care at least equally for the happiness and rights of humans beings as they do motherclucking poultry. I was wrong.
Well, in just a few days, "Milk", the film about California's first openly gay elected official, Harvey Milk, a San Francisco supervisor who was assassinated along with Mayor George Moscone will open in theaters. [trailer: HD | iPhone] And guess what chain is ready to reap the financial rewards for showing this much anticipated film? That's right, Cinemark. It can't be denied that "Milk" will draw a large audience from the portion of the population that is gay. But hell if I'm going to let any of my money ultimately end up in the pockets of a person who doesn't believe I should have the same rights that he does.
So I ask you, the moviegoing people of the world, regardless of your orientation, if you go to see "Milk", please do not see it in a Cinemark theater, or any of its subsidiaries. The third-largest theater chain in the U.S. also operates theaters under the name Century Theatres, CinéArts, and Tinseltown. Please avoid these theaters if at all possible.
"But Kenny, how can I easily find a theater near me that isn't part of the Cinemark brand and putting money into the pocket of Mr. Stock?" Good question! Please check out the NoMilkForCinemark.com and BoycottCinemark.com websites for tips and alternate viewing locations. In the San Francisco Bay Area I highly recommend AMC Theaters (their projection and presentation quality tends to be far superior to that of Century and CinéMark anyway), Landmark Theaters (the best place to see the best in independent film), and, of course, the world-famous Castro Theater (which you might just spot me and Hooters standing in front of as extras during the filming of "Milk").
A friend of mine and I were chatting the other day about how we both enjoy TV Land and classic sitcom from the 60s, 70s, and 80s. After I mentioned the delight I take in watching I Love Lucy on Sunday mornings enjoying breakfast, he shared with me his relief learning something unexpected about a certain president-elect. Unfortunately — or fortunately, depending how you look at it — the chat window was just wide enough to cause me to do a total double-take.
This is what I saw:
So just barely a little more than half way through the month and NaBloPoMo and I missed posting last night. I have failed NaBloPoMo 2009. And I have absolutely no regrets because I missed it for a very good reason.
Life is all about the choices we make, the actions we take. If I had it to do all over again, I wouldn't change a thing about Sunday.
Since I'm still at the movies, I'll keep this short since typing on my mobile device takes longer. Ultimately you win. :)
There are many people who will assume that because it's computer animated and released btmy Disney that this was created by Pixar. This is NOT a Pixar film. But, that isn't to say it isn't any good. It's quite good as a matter of fact, just not Pixar quality.
Kudos to the animators for not stuping to the cheap visual gags that so many 3D movies tend to employ. Rather they let the extra dimension enhance the world that the story takes place in. The look of the movie made for a delightful and enjoyable experience. But what about the story?
It didn't such either! It was particularly deep, and didn't break any new ground, but it was fully engaging and entertaining. I have a feeling that with Pixar's John Lassiter serving as executive producer, and other Pixar alums along in various other roles, all help keep this movie from turning out like other studios animated fare. This is Disney's best non-Pixar animated film in years.
It opens on Friday in 35mm film and Disney Digital 3D. Skip the film version and treat your eyes to the rich feast you'll find in digital 3D.
Phew! Just in time, my next movie is about to begin...time to silence my mobile device.
Posted with LifeCast
Did you miss any part of the series? Catch up here with this link.
There are only two simple rules to follow if you care to follow along at home:
1. You can only answer "yes" or "no"
2. You aren't allowed to explain anything in your answer. Just "yes" or "no." Of course, if someone asks for more details about an answer, all bets are off.
Let's continue…
It's been two weeks since Angel got his wings and he flew off to be reunited with his mommy and daddy. I really thought that I would miss his furry presence more than I do. But as it turns out I am really enjoying coming home and not having to immediately turn my attention to his special brand of "pay attention to me, and only me, you live to serve me" thinking.
Every day at work, countless times during the day, I'm called on by my peers to help answer their questions, troubleshoot their issues, and make their work a little bit easier. The trade off is that it tends to make my own work day a little more challenging. So after providing personal attention to everyone but myself during the day, it's nice to come home and not have to worry about anyone, or anything else, and finally be able to take care of myself.
I've noticed that I'm getting more and more aware about how much time I have for myself. Kenny-time. I've lived with more than a dozen roommates in the past 10 years and while it can be nice to have someone around the house — especially to be there when I'm changing a lightbulb just in case I fall off the ladder — I'm willing to take my chances for the relief and relaxation that comes with knowing that my homelife is on my terms.
While I've contemplated getting a pet of my own after Angel took flight, a beagle perhaps, I'm really not sure I'm ready for that, at least not until I'm able to reclaim my own time at work. Or get married. Oh, wait…scratch that last one.
It's been a week now, and I've had some time to reflect and come to terms with the decisions that were made by family, friends, colleagues, neighbors, fellow Californians. I'm referring to California Prop 2 and Prop 8. And there's an undeniable truth that's come to light. My fellow Californians care more about farm animals than their fellow human beings. Don't believe me? How else do you explain this…
(click for full size iamge)
Animals were given more freedom (well, technically, that "freedom" is the ability to move around more comfortably) and a section of the population had their equality revoked and civil liberties taken away. Does that make any sense to you?
Historic indeed. But not the good kind. I can't help but feel that while our country took a step forward, we also took a step back. That's hardly progress.
We live in a world where America will finally have a non-Anglo president, but in a country that still seems content with denying equality and liberty based on differences.
To all the people out there who voted in favor of Prop 8, the ones who voted in favor of discrimination and bigotry, thinking that by doing so they would some how be protecting marriage, family, and children (and I really don't understand the "protecting children" argument) I would like you to answer the following questions:
1. How does divorce factor into your ideals of protect marriage, family, and children?
2. Why haven't you outlaw divorce?
3. Can I get a refund on all the wedding presents I've purchased for straight couples who got divorced?
No, I'm serious! If you really want to protect marriage, you need to outlaw divorce. It's done more to destroy your so called "holy matrimony" than anything two men (or two women) in a committed relationship have done or will ever do.
And, lastly, for those of you who continue to argue that Prop 8 needed to pass to "[prevent] other consequences to Californians who will be forced to not just be tolerant of gay lifestyles, but face mandatory compliance regardless of their personal beliefs" please consider this…
The Bible says "Do to others as you would have them do to you." — Luke 6:31 (New International Version) but if you choose not to be tolerant of me I hope you won't mind if I choose not to tolerate you. I guess I don't really have a choice, they're your rules.
I normally destain receiving email questionnaires, you know the kind, asking you about your favorite things and then requiring that you forward it to 20 of your closest friends or something bad will happen to you. These lost their novelty immediately after the first one I received.
But while perusing the gay blogs of the interwebs, you know, for "reasearch" I stumbled across Slow Lane Dan and his blog containing an interesting questionnaire. But Dan didn't ask anyone to fill it out, instead he simply posted his own answers. And that, I can totally get behind. I don't even mind if he "stole" the idea from Janek.
For today's post, I've decided to expand on Dan and Janek's idea and post my own answers. I've made a few tweaks and also added a few more that I would like to know about other people if given the opportunity to ask.
There are only two simple rules to follow if you care to follow along at home:
1. You can only answer "yes" or "no"
2. You aren't allowed to explain anything in your answer. Just "yes" or "no." Of course, if someone asks for more details about an answer, all bets are off.
Here we go…
This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.
Thank heavens for the guys and gals at Red Sweater Software for developing MarsEdit. The majority of my posts in the past several months (this review has been a long time in coming) have been written and posted in using MarsEdit and I can't begin to tell you how much more enjoyable it's made the blogging experience for me. Is it perfect? No. But it is the best solution I've found that's actually made it a pleasure to blog.
That screen shot to the right, that's an actual view of my desktop while working in MarsEdit. I love, love, LOVE that I can customize the preview window so that it accurately represents what my post will look like when it's actually published to Blogger. That's a big time saver!
My wish list of improvements is quite short and by no means should be a reason to prevent you from buying this application:
1. Support for syncing of local drafts between multiple computers. For those of us who have both a desktop and laptop, this would be a dream and would allow us added flexibility in our writing practices.
2. A version for the iPhone/iPod touch. Now that's definitely easier said than done, but for anyone who's tried using Blogger's web interface for creating a post on one of these devices already know that an iPhone app would be a dream come true.
3. The ability to set a publication date/time using Blogger's new-ish future posting feature.
Like I said, MarsEdit's current features far out-weight my wish list. $30 might seem like a lot to spend on an app that helps you write blog posts, but if you use Blogger, I'm pretty sure that after 30-days (coincidently, exactly how long the free trial period lasts) you'll be sold on it. I can't imagine blogging using anything else!
---
On a side note, this application can't fix stupid…like when I changed the post status default to draft early last week and forgot to change it back. The last several days of posts have been stuck in draft on Blogger because I forgot change my setting and because the preview in MarsEdit is so awesome I rarely actually visit my own blog. Oops! Sorry for what seems like a flood of posts today!
Single Rider Tour 2008 — part ten in a series
It took nearly a week, but I've finally sorted through the several hundred photos I snapped on my trip, made my selects, color corrected, and finally posted to flickr.
Check them out here: Single Rider Tour 2008 collection
I live for comments so please let me know what you like, or what needs improvement, in the comments here or on flickr.
Single Rider Tour 2008 — part nine in a series
Yesterday I rated the three theme parks I visited, but there was an interesting difference between them that I didn't mention, namely, which park had the hotter guys. Totally not important — which is why this didn't impact the park's scores — but it's at least a little interesting.
While the concept of "hot" is relative when it comes to appearance, there are certain aspects that tend to remain consistent over a wide audience; how fit a person is.
I'll be the first to admit that I tend to be attracted to guys that many other's wouldn't be, especially when it comes to facial features, but since this is my blog, this bias is totally acceptable. I didn't take any photos to backup my findings, as that seemed a little too creepy.
What I find the most interesting is that the male guests were most attractive at Magic Mountain and least eye-catching at Disneyland. I have no idea why that would be the case. I would have thought that Disney, having the highest ticket price, might have an advantage — though they did let me in — but that was clearly not the case.
Maybe the hot guys are attracted to the park with the highest number of thrill rides? No clue, as most of the hot guys at Magic Mountain were obviously straight and the mind of the straight guy is as mysterious to me as the mind of women is to straight guys. I did see a few gay couples at Magic Mountain, which was kind of cool, so maybe I should have asked them.
Not sure if my findings are consistent with others, I don't believe there's been a lot of research done on this. What about you? Have you noticed a trend in where attractive guys (or girls) tend to flock to? Any theories on why?
Single Rider Tour 2008 — part seven in a series
Now that my vacation is officially over, I can go back and review a few key things from my trip in a bit more detail. First up, the long awaited, much anticipated Finding Nemo-based ride at Disneyland.
It's easy to say that Pixar became Disney's saviour for animated films. Unfortunately it seems that scaled-back budgets will continue to make for flat ride experiences in the US parks. For proof of this, compare the Winnie the Pooh ride in Tokyo's Disneyland versus any of the US parks. I can't help but wonder how the Finding Nemo ride at Disneyland in Anaheim would have benefited if the Tokyo Land Management company (the actual owners of the Toyko park) running the project.
Starting off my list of disappointments, the wait. The wait for this ride was the longest I would find in the entire park on my visit. Part of this could be that they were only running two subs, which apparently can only travel in tandem, and with the show running as long as it does, the limited number of seats, and the slow load/unload process, it's easy to see why my wait was 40 minutes even though the line itself looked short.
Next up, the subs. Now I'm all for recycling, but here was a chance to make improvements to the original subs rather than just sprucing them up with a new paint job. Other than the difficult and slow load/unload process, the biggest issue with the subs is the size of the viewing portholes. The experience becomes completely compartmentalized, and one you experience by yourself rather than as a family or group. I found this to be very unsatisfying, and a little un-Disney when looking at Disney's modern thoughts on the ride experience. The portholes are so small that if you blink, you've probably missed something in the rich detail in the ride. I'm sure it came down to budget when they were refurbishing the subs. The subs would have benefited by having the tiny portholes replaced by larger viewing windows. Such windows allow the experience to be shared by several people at once, and make it that much more meaningful to them.
My other complaint was that the scenes had so many set breaks that again, if you blinked, you missed part of the story being told. Again, larger portholes would have made for a better storying telling experience.
The animatronics and animation were, more or less, successfully integrated into the ride, though the animatronics seemed a little under animated when compared to the animated elements of the ride and that created a noticeable separation between storytelling elements, and that took me out of the story. This again is a situation where Disney used to be top dog; their animatronics were second to none. Some of these animatronics looked like the belonged in Knotts Berry Farm or any other generic theme park.
I'm hoping that John Lassiter can help the penny-pinchers in the Anaheim park realize that their cost-cutting ways detract from the guest experience and hamper the story telling process&helli;and that's why Pixar has been so successful; to them, story is king.
Single Rider Tour 2008 — part six in a series
So you may recall that when I ended my last post, I was waiting to board my flight home. My flight was scheduled to originally depart LAX at 6:00 p.m. but Air Traffic Control up in San Francisco had issued a ground stop, or something like that (I'm not up on all that fancy-schmancy flying lingo). Well they ended up getting us on the plane by about 6:45 p.m. and within minutes of sealing the door and pulling away from the gate we were informed that SFO was re-issuing the halt for all inbound flights. How long were we going to have to wait? SFO wasn't saying.
There we sat, on the tarmac, watching our satellite TV (when it was working), and waiting for the green light to get home. I should mention that this was my first time flying Virgin America and I just so happened to be one of the first people to be seated in their brand new "Main Cabin Select" class of seats. How was it? I'll post a review of it in a few days. But overall I really have to say that Virgin America has the nicest planes; they don't smell like stale coffee and vomit yet.
Around 8:30 the captain gets on the PA system to let us know that SFO isn't giving them a clear answer as to whether or not the ground halt has been lifted, but even if it is, there are a bunch of other flights that waiting to land so they have plenty of other flights that are due in before we can even think of taking off. The waiting continues. While many other travelers are starting to freak out about the delay, I remain calm. It makes no sense in a situation like that to get all worked up. ATC doesn't feel it's safe for planes to land, and I appreciate that decision because I know they're doing it to keep me alive.
An hour later we finally get confirmation that we are cleared for departure and being taxiing to the runway for takeoff. And then, in a twisted moment of deja-vu we get word that we're being ask to hold. Again. At this point, even I'm getting restless. And I'm getting worried that my car, parked at the San Bruno BART station might be towed as my long term parking permit will expire at midnight.
We finally take to the sky around 10:30. We land smoothly about an hour later. By midnight I've claimed my luggage and wearily head to the SFO AirTrain to take me to the transfer station to catch the BART train back to my car. I arrive at the station to find that the BART station gates are closed and the station is closed. Crap. I'm totally confused as the BART website indicated that the train I needed would be running into the early morning. My only option is to take a taxi to my car. But getting back to the terminal would prove to me trickier as the AirTrain that would normally do that was taken offline for the night and the SFO facilities people gave me bad instructions on how to get back to the terminal. An hour after I've landed and I'm still no closer to getting to my car than when I first landed.
A $20 cab ride later I'm finally at my car. It's 1:30 a.m. and I've still got an hour long drive home ahead of me. And laundry after that. But, I'm alive. Though I'm not sure I'll be mentally alive at work in a couple of hours.
Single Rider Tour 2008 — part five in a series
Well, maybe calling it a "vacation of extremes" would be more accurate. For the past three days I've been surrounded, more or less, by crowds of theme park-goers, riding thrill ride after thrill ride, and generally looking for mass marketed entertainment. While I did find a couple opportunities to flex my artistic side by way of photography, I wouldn't fully embrace the arts until today, and with that take a complete departure from the entire vacation so far.
The day started on a good note. And while I missed hanging out with The Writer before he left for work, Betty's breakfast recommendation made up for it. The place: Patrick's Roadhouse. The vibe: beyond eclectic. The food: deliciously comforting. The service: refreshingly personal and friendly. I'll eventually have some photos to post, once I'm back home (I'm writing this at LAX sans internet). I'm not really a big breakfast guy — unless it's breakfast for dinner — but I went to town on my food. Thanks for the recommendation, Betty! You've created another fan for this friendly and funky place.
I finished eating sooner than I had thought I would and with my admission time to the Getty Villa still more than an hour away I elected to take a drive north up the Pacific Coast Highway and threw on the soundtrack to the movie Grove to provide the score to my mini-roadtrip within my vacation.
It was a beautiful drive. Fortunately the speed limit was slow enough that I wasn't just blasting by the views without being able to appreciate what I saw. The ocean looked stunning as the clouds danced on the horizon and the waves entertained the surfers. I made it all the way through Malibu to Zuma Beach where a film crew was setting up. I looked at the time and realized it was time to make a u-turn and head toward my original destination. Oh how I wish I could have spent a little more time at the beach. The beach has always been a grounding force for me. Something about walking barefoot on the cold, damp sand helps me feel more connected to the world I live in and reset perspectives. Not to mention all the hot surfer boys changing into and out of their wetsuits in the parking lot. That 300mm zoom lens would have been quite handy for stalking six-packs. But alas, the boys of L.A. is a topic for a future post.
Pulling up to the main gate of the Getty Villa was breathtaking. The landscaping was amazing. Little did I know that I hadn't seen anything yet. The use of stone, tile, and cement was stunning throughout the pathway leading to the museum entrance. Not really sure where to start, I hopped into an orientation tour that was about to head out. That proved to be a wise decision because while the grounds aren't overwhelming expansive, within 30 minutes I knew where everything was and had mapped out in my mind what might be photo worthy.
There were a lot of wonderful sights to behold, and aromas to delight in. Yes, I said aromas. The herb garden, while not in full bloom, provided subtle yet soothing aroma therapy as I sat on a bench soaking in the sun, feeling the tension from the previous day's strenuous activities slowly start to ease. The collection of Roman artifacts and statues were impressive and I was thrilled to learn that non-flash photography was allowed (for personal use only, of course). Keep watching as I'll have a flickr album posted soon highlighting my visit to the Villa.
Before I knew it, it was time to head back toward LAX, with a quick side trip to The Writer's office to drop off something he had forgotten to take with him that morning. Personally I think it was just an excuse to see me before I headed back to San Francisco, but either way it was just nice to be able to see him again. It had been too long since our last face-to-face visit. Hopefully our next in-person visit won't be too far away. Before I climbed back in my car he extended his hand for a farewell shake. Upon clasping hands, he went in for a hug too. That was nice. I'm a big hugger. But for some reason most of my close friends aren't. Never have been, now that I think about it. Not to bring up the past, but Carlos hated hugging. Well, mostly I think he just hated hugging me, because he seemed to have no problem hanging off people he had just met. Anyway, my point…hold on a sec, they're making an announcement about my flight.
DELAYED! By at least an hour and a half due to weather issues at SFO. Lovely.
Now where was I? Oh yes. Hugs. So I was little surprised that he offered a hug. I never thought of our relationship of being one that would include a hug. But maybe after a certain number of years, six for us so far, one reaches hug eligibility status. My point is, and I do have one, that the hug was nice and a great way to end my visit to L.A. and my visit with a distance-separated friend.
Well, without photos to post, and not wanting to go off on another odd tangent (admit it, that hug part was a bit weird, right?) I think I'm going to save this to my local drafts folder in MarsEdit — thank heavens for MarsEdit! — and go in search of some hydration. I'm parched and not capable of surviving an hour-plus long flight with all that dry, recirculated air.
Single Rider Tour 2008 -- part four in a series
...to make sure you unplug and take your laptop's power adapter you before you check out of your hotel. Otherwise you'll end up like me and typing this on your iPhone. Thank goodness for the App Store, I was able to find a lightweight app to help me keep on posting. Unfortunately now all my pics are stuck on my powerless laptop and I won't be able to upload them until I get home.
Today was a good day. Slept in (bed was too comfy, and I was exhausted) so I didn't get up to Magic Mountain until noonish. Which was fine because the park was pretty empty. Being a single rider didn't matter much as the lines were so short that the longest wait was only 20 minutes, and that was for the mind-blending X2, which left me questioning if my brain and body could withstand much more coaster riding. A quick trip on an old favorite put away any concerns and I wound up riding 7 coasters in 3 1/2 hours. By the end, I was really starting to feel the effects of all the g forces.
Ah, yes...but now my single rider tour is coming to a close. After 3 days packed with theme parks, people, and thrills, tomorrow I swing to the opposite side and chill out with a little quiet culture at the Getty Villa.
Well, it's nearly time for bed. Not sure what time I'll need to roll outta here, but my guess is it'll be the same time The Writer has to head out for work. Betty told me about a great breakfast place on the way up to Malibu I might be able to check out if I get on the road in time.
See you tomorrow.
Posted with LifeCast
Single Rider Tour 2008 — part three in a series
That's how I'm feeling right now. Dizzy. Clearly I've overdone the thrill rides in such a short amount of time. Maybe the rain that moved in over Knotts Berry Farm early in the afternoon was a sign for me to call it a day so I could recover enough to be fresh and ready for X2 on Sunday. The two coasters I did squeeze in were decent, but nothing to write home (or here) about. I'm curious to see how they stack up against the other rides from this trip. Rest assured that I'll be churning out comparison charts as soon as I'm home.
Today did hold a couple treats. First, I had lunch at the famous Mrs. Knotts Chicken Dinner Restaurant. It was a lot of food for a very reasonable amount of money. And the chicken...so moist and juicy. It wasn't very crispy but it was certainly delicious.
My second treat was reconnecting with a friend from the good ol' days back in SF. The Writer was generous in his offer to let me crash at his place while I'm down here. We went out for dinner tonight and it was so fun to catch up as well as reminisce about the past. It's been a couple years since we've hung out, but we picked up where we left off as if no time had passed at all. I'm very fortunate that I have people like that in my life.
Alright, it's late and I'm exhausted. Relaxing vacation is an oxymoron for this trip. Time for bed. Pray for Sunday sunshine!
Wow. I just noticed that I finally hit the 10,000 visitor mark. Neat! I'm sure if this blog was more interesting it wouldn't have taken a year and a half to reach such a milestone. Oh well. I write what I know. (The rest I make up.)
Single Rider Tour 2008 — part one in a series
It seems that I'm lucky to get one vacation a year these, uh, years. My last vacation being nearly one year ago this month. But whereas last year I went all out and hit up Hawaii and Vegas in the course of 10 days, this year I've had to scale it down a bit. Namely, 3 SoCal theme parks in 5 days. Last year all of my time was spent with other people, hardly a moment to myself. This year's trip is called "Single Rider Tour 2008" meaning I'm going to (mostly) solo. I'll be dropping in on my buddy, The Writer, towards the end of the tour at his gracious invitation to crash at his place and save some of my dough rather than wasting it on cheap motels. He's not too big on thrill rides apparently so our hanging out time will be kind of limited (unless it rains on Sunday, in which case I might scrap my Magic Mountain plans).
And beginning tomorrow, Saturday, I have to publish 30 posts in 30 days as part of NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month). I'm going to be pretty pooped after long days of relentless roller coastering, and maybe even a little bit nauseous, but my access to internet seems much better than it was in Hawaii so I don't believe I'll have to resort to posting via iPhone over the Edge network (ie: the speed equivalent of grass growing). I was hoping to be able to include photos from my trip in my posts, but as luck would have it, one of my camera uses a proprietary USB transfer cable and wouldn't you know I can't find it anywhere and it's not something that is easily purchased. Maybe I can find a Target or Best Buy and rustle me up a multi-card media reader.
Alrighty. Dinner from Mimi's Cafe is all cleaned up, as is the mini bottle of crappy wine from the gift shop (though I am feeling more relaxed so I guess it wasn't all that bad) so it's time for bed so I can scramble to get my ParkHopper ticket bright and early in just a few hours. Yay!
See you tomorrow, or later today!
One week from now Americans will be faced with some of the most important decisions of our lifetimes.
One week from now Americans will decide what's next for the country.
One week from now we will vote.
I've been so wrapped up with work that I've slacked on posting these videos supporting the causes I strongly believe in.
One of the biggest decisions facing Californians is whether or not to take away the right for same sex couples to marry. It's a heated debate, and one that I've found discussing with my own family who are staunchly religious. There's nothing new that I can really add to the conversation, but I did find some interesting campaign videos on YouTube that might be of interest, including an interesting spin-off on a series of ads a certain Silicon Valley company — which has also come out against prop 8, along with Google — you might be familiar with…
This next one was created by a clever person who just happens to work at Pixar. Smart and adorable. Why isn't this on TV?!?
Turning attention now to the national front, we have the Presidential race featuring Obama and McCain/Palin. While neither are perfect, I really can't tolerate the deceptions the McCain/Palin campaign are passing for the truth. Not to mention, Palin is just a stroke away from running the country, and that's more of "when" than an "if." And while I'd love to see Tina Fey back on SNL every so often mocking Palin, I really don't think it's worth the havoc she'll unleash on this country. Things are bad enough already, and yes, they can get worse, and McCain/Palin will see to that.
I've never been into politics, but in the past year I've gone from passively interested to eager promoter. And so help me if anyone votes for that damn Nader jerkwad and throws their vote away. Being a fan of showtunes, I was instantly drawn to this one for the Obama campaign. Enjoy! Oh, and vote Obama.
So, what have we learned today? Vote No on Prop 8, Vote Yes for Obama.
Angel, the ebony ball of feline fur I'm kitty sitting until his relocation paperwork is all figured out, had to move into temporary housing last week while I attended a conference up north. His vet offers basic yet practical accommodations, plus they know him and really, who is better at caring for pets than the vet, right?
I opened the door just a few minutes before they closed for the weekend and the place seemed deserted. I heard some music way coming from the back of the office so I just waited patiently and give Angel a little more time to acclimate to being back at the vet. Before long, he emerged from the rear. Gabriel. I wasn't expecting a really cute latin guy to walk through the door, but I kept my surprise in check.
After explaining why I was there, he prepped Angel's equivalent to the hotel room I would soon be living in for a week and we talked about Angel's dietary needs general disposition. The conversation flowed easily, as it should for what it was. Soon it was time to move Angle from carrier to cage. This proved to be a bigger challenge than either of us expected. Angel pinned himself in his carrier good and Gabriel and I had to carefully coax him out. Angel's efforts to remain in the carrier were simply not meant to be and we convinced him to finally exit his transport.
As Angel explored his new 2-foot x 2-foot world, Gabriel and I continued our conversation, drifting away from talking about Angel and moving on to more less specific topics. Normally I have a hard time talking to an even half-way attractive guy, but it was different talking with him. If my timing was better I could have stayed and talked with him for hours, or at least until he had to lock up and head home, but I had still had to run to the office and pick up conference supplies and finish some last minute work before running home to pack and begin my drive north. When I realized this I suddenly became very self aware that I was going to have to find a graceful exit. In the blink of an eye, I went from someone who might actually be confused with a suave guy to someone who clammed up and started what would be just another awkward silence in my dating (and non-dating) life.
I looked at the watch that wasn't on my wrist — I'm pretty sure he noticed I wasn't wearing one — and said I had to head out. I'm sure it sounded more like an excuse than an actual reason, but he smiled anyway and my heart skipped a beat at the already building anticipation that if I hadn't just blown it with the awkward silence and "gotta run" moment, that I would get to see him again when I returned to take Angel back home. My next three hours on the road found me over analyzing my chance meeting with Angel's guardian angel, Gabriel. To be honest, I'm not even sure he's on my team, but there's no ring, and there was the tiniest blimp on my GAYDAR. This is where I should point out that my GAYDAR is often more wishful than accurate. So, really, no point in getting my hopes up.
****
One week later…
I'm back in my own county, driving up to the vet's office, secretly hoping that Gabriel would be there to greet me. I pause, take a deep breath, and walk through the door. "And you are…?" a cold voice asks. Damn, it's the vet. She always has this look on her face like she doesn't trust me, which I don't understand. I look over to the reception desk and see another woman, not Gabriel. I was both disappointed and secretly relieved. I explain who I'm picking up and as I'm saying Angel's name, lo and behold, Gabriel rounds the corner, our eyes meet, and smiles appeared on both of our faces. He said he'd get him and the bitchy vet retired to her office.
Standing side by side, assuming our positions from a week ago, it all felt so natural again. As he gathered Angel's food and carrier, we made small talk about Angel's stay. Turns out that not more than 10 minutes after I left the previous week, Angel had a bit of a panic attach that lasted the entire week. He wouldn't let anyone near him, howling and hissing at anyone within visual range. I sighed, as that's exactly what he did when he first took up lodging with me. He remembered that from our talk the week prior. Promising!
Less promising was the chances of getting Angel to calm down and get into his carrier. He was reacting as though we were trying to kill him, rather than to take him back to familiar surroundings. To make a very long story just a little less long, it took 15 minutes, a net, and Angel peeing on us three times, to get him safely into his carrier. Gabriel was so kind and compassionate — swoon! — during the ordeal he earned major bonus points. At this point there was three of us standing around Angel's carrier as he howled his protest, Gabriel, myself, and the lady from reception. This made talking with Gabriel, let alone the possibility of asking him out, less than realistic. So instead I settled the bill (a fraction of the cost of my own conference lodging), apologized again for Angel's "problem child" behavior, and made my way to the car.
Within seconds of leaving the vet's office Angel's howls had transformed into quiet meows, the same kind that he makes whenever I've had him in my car. But at that moment I could care less about his happiness as I wondered how I might be able to find an excuse to ask Gabriel out with Angel about to board a plane bound for his actual mommy and daddy.
Without a doubt, such thoughts will preoccupy my weekend and possibly even my upcoming vacation. But before I can think that far ahead, I must tend to one pee-soak kitty cat before he sits on my bodily fluid-free (feline or otherwise) sofa. As on Angel takes flight, with another soon take his place to snuggle up with at home? Stay tuned…
****
I just realized it's been more than a month between updates. Now that the nightmare work hours are behind me, I'll have more free time to, for better or worse, write. Fear not, this blog is by no means dead.
Here am I as always, still quietly standing in the background, patiently observing the both of you. Together. Indivdually. Impartial to the best of my ability. The confidant to both, though only full-time to one. I envied the bond you shared to the point I questioned its validity. Maybe it was my fault he began to question it too.
He asked me if he was doing the right thing. I told him he was, that he deserves to have balance, security, and happiness. And the only way he'll ever achieve that is by taking control of his life and surrounding himself with the people that foster those needs. In reality, I told him what he wanted to hear, which I hope is also the truth.
Part of me wants to intervene, to ask you how you could be so oblivious about what was going on. But having to ask the question at all provides the answer at the same time. I know it's not your fault. Or his. In the end, you are both moving in different directions. Be happy your paths overlapped and look forward to the time they might cross again.
That's all the wisdom I can impart for now. Good luck you two.
Not that I've had a whole heck of a lot of time to actually watch much TV, but I did happen to catch The Works recently on the History Channel and found host Daniel H. Wilson to be utterly adorkable. Being that The Works is a brand new show and we're at the start of a new TV season, I'm ready to proclaim Mr. Wilson to be the most adorkable new host in all of the kingdom of television. I realize that such a proclamation might be somewhat ironic being that he is a man of science (or at least mechanics, the popular ones to be sure) and I, having not exactly complete exhaustive and comprehensive research into the matter or followed any sort of scientific method whatsoever, am so eager to make said proclamation. What can I say, I go with my gut. There's a lot of it these days, it's hard to ignore it so I usually just go along along with it.
So there you have it. As promised a new post that managed be both geeky and gay. And short. Wow! It's a three-fer!
Who is procrastinating: me
What about: figuring out the GC dilemma, and talking to the GC in general
When will you grow a pair and move forward: don't know, by the end of the week probably
Where does this leave you in the mean time: somewhere in the middle, neither good nor bad
Why are you procrastinating: because I'm afraid that I already know the answer, that I've known it all along, but I'm too scared to do what's right for me at the expense of someone else's feelings…it easier to just let it decay naturally without actively speeding up the process on my part.
---
Damn. How did I end up so spineless and passive when it comes to things like this? And more importantly, why has this become such a pattern in my life?
OK. I promise that my next post will be gay, white-trashy, geeky, or some odd combination of the previous three in nature.
It was bound to happen sooner or later. Life imitating art imitating other art. No, that wasn't a typo. Here's how it went down…
A recent phone call with Hooters (the person, not the place) inspired me to break out my Camp DVD and enjoy another viewing of it. The lead actor, one Daniel Letterle, was just so — and I know this is going to sound even gayer than I want it to — intoxicating that I ended up googling to see if he'd been in any more movies. Fortunately he had a couple follow ups and so I loaded up my Netflix queue and waited by the mailbox. With the amount of quality TV running thin these days (can't believe it's still almost 5 months until Lost returns with new episodes) I've been working my way through my Netflix queue pretty fast so in almost no time I opened my mailbox to find "The Mostly Unfabulous Social Life of Ethan Green" waiting for me. It's a low-budget (in a good way) film based on the popular comic strip of the same name. A comedy peppered with hunky guys was just what I needed to keep me pushing out of the funk I'm in, but in addition to the laughs, the sighs, and the "holy six-pack abs" I found was a wake up call.
Smack dab in the middle of the movie Ethan has a little walk and talk with him mother (played so gloriously by Meredith Baxter of Family Ties fame). Ethan has been steady downward spiral and Harper (his mom) finally levels with him. And me. This is what I heard…
No, not the piercing kind, the kind where you hearing a ringing in your ears. The really annoying kind. The kind that usually tag teams with a pounding headache and a feeling that your eyes might pop outta their sockets. The kind that gets so bad that it makes it nearly impossible to think because all of your focus is driven to that damn sound pressure in your ears.
That pretty much sums up my last 6 weeks. It was also what I was alluding to in my last post. Last week it finally got the better of me and after Betty convinced me that it was probably just Tinnitus that I came to the realization it wasn't going to get better on its own and finally went to the doctor. I don't like going to the doctor. Don't get me wrong, I like my doctor and trust my M.D., but I'm just leary of the modern medical methods that preach healing via antibiotics and chemicals. The last time I had to go see the doctor I ended up on medical leave for six weeks during which I took a total of 5 different antibiotics, each in increasing strength. They took such a toll on my system that my bright yellow Live Strong wristband (you know, the one Lance Armstrong made popular) actually changed color where it touched my skin in a matter of weeks. Freaky! Oh, and my shit didn't stink. Believe me, I'm not bragging. My shit literally didn't smell like, well, anything. (Sorry, was that an overshare?) I don't think I had any living bacteria — good or bad — left in my body after that. But after all that time the sinus infection/walking pneumonia finally met its match.
Flash forward nearly two years and there I am, back at my doctor listening to him tell me the ringing in my ears is most likely being caused by my sinuses. My heart sank. "I'm not going to have to take more damn antibiotics, will I?" I hear myself half-defensively ask. He seemed a little caught off guard by my question until he looked at my chart again and quietly said to himself, "Oh, that's right." I look down at the floor where my stomach had since joined my heart. "Why don't we start you off with a nasal spray instead to relieve the pressure and see how that goes."
So far the spray has been helping but it's now miracle recovery by any means. On a scale of 1 to 100 (with 100 feeling like someone drilling into my eardrums while endlessly projecting every sound imaginable into my head which is being squeezed in a vice while I'm flying in a plane that constantly keeps changing cabin pressure, which is what it felt like last week) I'm down to about a 40 in the mornings and top out around 70-75 about the time I leave the office. Hope that helps to explain why it's been so quiet round the blog for the past several weeks, and why it might continue to be a bit postless for a couple more.
I'm vexed. Probably shouldn't be, but I am. It seems that the towering projects, working lunches, and late nights and weekends at the office have had an unusual and completely unexpected benefit. They've all kept me siloed and, as a result, presented me with a different perspective on my relationships not only at work, but outside of it (what little there is at the moment) as well. And this is what vexes me. I didn't want to consider an alternate perspective. Was content in letting myself take comfort in the grand vistas while subconsciously avoiding the warning signs that perhaps I'm really just going down the same path I've been many times before that will ultimately end with me broken at the bottom of an emotional chasm. Too melodramatic?
Not sure why, but for some reason people like to open up to me, spill the beans, sing me their sad song, etcetera. I'm their bartender but without the booze, bar tab, or pickled eggs. And I enjoy listening to them, the intimate connection that is formed by the private communication involved and the ensuing friendship that comes along with that. Can I help them? Unless it has something to do with the Adobe Creative Suite or setting up a home theater, usually not. But sometimes just knowing that there's another soul to talk to can be enough to make them feel better I guess. I pride myself in locking away their confessions, complaints, and confidential matters not to share with another soul. The ace up my sleeve, but only for these situations is it really useful, is that my memory is like a steel trap — one rusted and stuck in the open position — so half of the time I forget the conversation completely, and if not entirely, than just the important parts.
So how does my emotional bar tending end up with me at the bottom of melodramatic proportions? Simple…it's when said connection becomes unidirectional and the balance shifts from that of friend to pro bono therapist. When it goes from talking with them, to them talking at me, that's when it's time to reevaluate. And now that I've been given some perspective and can see my current whereabouts, I find myself at the fork in the path and wondering if I'm about to, once again, go the same way as with Curious, with Carlos (has it really been a year since I put an end to that whole mess already?!), and several other before them. I don't mind being the friend-in-need friend, just so long as that's not all I am to them. To bring up the bar tending analogy one more time (and really, I'm not that big into drinking), if the right balance between liquors and mixers aren't achieved you're either left with something that tastes flat or something that will lay you out flat, rather than a tasty concoction that gives you a nice, warm, and oh-so-slightly buzzed feeling. I want the warm and fuzzy feeling that a true friendship generates, and not the "taste this…does it taste right to you" drinks being served.
Part of me is paranoid that I'm just being paranoid because I don't want to go through that again so soon. The other part of me thinks the paranoid part of me is reading into things and doesn't want to change course. I don't know which part to listen to. Layer in the concentration breaking ringing in my ears for the past month (more on that later) and, well, I'm vexed. Maybe the best action to take is to sit here at the fork in the path for a little while longer and when my head fog clears up if I'll be able to see down each path a little further. Oh how I wish I could just use Google maps for this!
This has been (another) mentally, creatively, and physically draining week. Deadlines, last minute "oh yeah, can you do this when you have a moment, by which I really mean drop what you're doing and do this instead" projects, nearly completely sedentary for five or more straight hours except for keystrokes and mousing. It's all I can do but flat out lose it. But rather than let that happen, I'm trying to seek out the positives and not let the negatives take control. It's hard. I fear that one day I might lose that struggle.
After twelve-plus hour workdays, by the time I get home I'm a tangled mass of exhaustion and frustration; low blood sugar makes for a very short fuse. Any and every little annoyance or inconvenience pushes me to the brink. But then I remember that I must keep in control, find the things that bring back my bliss. My list of bliss builders is small, but mighty. The excitement a friend discovering a new passion, developing a new skill, shares with me. Reading about the adventures of another friend on a road trip across the nation. And on nights like tonight, it's realizing that it's Wednesday and my TiVo is happily recording a new episode of Mythbusters so I can enjoy it while I microwave a frozen dinner.
So that's where I find my bliss these days. Where do you find yours?
---
[5 minutes later…] — So it turns out that for some unexplained reason, the "new" episode of Mythbusters that TiVo was recording is actually a repeat from last season, even though the schedule says it's supposed to be brand-spaking new. Well that's just the prefect way to end the day. Screw off Discovery Channel, I'm going to bed.
Too bad cock-blocking (the visual kind, not the While you were ordering drinks I told that hot guy you were talking to that your rash is probably not contagious anymore…Hey! Where did he go? kind) isn't a recognized event, or Angel would be a world-class cathlete.
Here he is sticking the tricky off-axis back horizontal double block. Even with a difficulty rating of 4.6 and the obviously biased German judge, his flawless ear to speedo synchronization could easily win more medals than Michael Phelps. If, of course, censoring speedos during the men's synchronized diving finals with your ears was a medaling sport; it's still just an exhibition sport I believe.
A word of warning for those with virgin ears (and eyes). This post (both text and the embedded video) has the word fuck in it. Don't worry, it's completely justified.
America Is F*cked.......(Graphically at least) from Jess Gibson on Vimeo.
Basically this is labeled an opinion piece, but seriously, when the opinion is so categorically true, it's really a fact. A sad fact of how much some people are willing to pay for crap design, and that it devalues and discredits designers that really do deserve the big bucks. Are we as American's becoming ambivalent to Wal-mart quality design? Yes. Do we care? Apparently not, because as long as we pay top dollar for it, we must be getting our money's worth, right? I won't even answer that because the reality is far too depressing.
If you'll excuse, I'm going to go stab myself with Illustrator's knife tool until the Pantone 1795C bleeds into the gutter.
[via CreativeBits.org]
When I was but a wee tyke, TV commercials had a pretty powerful impact on me. They made me want things. They made me beg for things. Sugary breakfast cereals. The latest whiz-bang toy. Fishing rods that collapsed to fit in your pocket. Unfortunately for an active pre-preteen consumer like myself, I had to rely on good ol' mom and pop to finance such pursuits. And 99 times out of 100, they failed to recognize the enormous significance of the item requested.
My mom being somewhat of a health-nut never bought us anything even remotely fun for a breakfast cereal. If we were lucky, we'd get granola with raisins, but the rest of the time it was puffed millet or Uncle Sam Cereal. I would have to sneak over to my neighbors house and covertly raid their Fruit Loops and Cookie Crisp supplies when they weren't watching.
As far as toys went, anything involving guns or violence were always passed on, and again, I would have to turn to the kids in the neighborhood for a little GI Joe action. Or in a pinch, there was always my sister's Barbie dolls. Hmmm…I wonder…
While my family would drive the hour to the lake to go waterskiing, that was the extent of our aquatic sportsmanship so I never learned out to fish, which means that now I have a fear of getting lost in the woods and not being able to survive because I can't catch a fish to literally save my life.
It may seem odd that after 30 years I'm just now living out a childhood dream. Sadder still is that I probably could have done so much sooner, but simply didn't realize it. That dream? To have a Snoopy Sno-Cone Maker of my very own. Growing up I had a love of all things Peanuts, partly because there's a narrow connection in our extended family to the creator of Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and the rest of the Peanuts gang, Charles M. Schulz. For some reason I just figured they had stopped making toy long ago and thus, never really thought about it again until I saw it advertised at the bottom of an email from CreativePro.com. Instantly I flashed back to my youth and could vividly remember how much I wanted one. Within minutes I was smiling at the order confirmation screen, brimming with self-satisfaction.
When it finally arrived, Betty helped pop my sno-cone making cherry — apparently she's a pro when it come to making sno — and after a quick assembly process we started cranking away. Maybe the shaving blades of the original version were sharper back in the day because honestly making sno for one serving took more than a lot of effort, it took a long time. How on earth did kids power this twenty or more years ago? Oh that's right, they were all amped up from the sugary breakfast cereals. As my first taste of the icy and sweet treat hit my lips, I felt like a part of me had been completed.
A random passerby asked what we were doing (all that ice scraping produces an obscene amount of noise and can attract the wrong kind of attention) and Betty filled him in on the fulling of my childhood wish. He saw it as me trying to complete a bucket list, which brought a whole mortality level into the conversation that was kind of a downer. Fortunately all it took to distract me from thoughts of my now apparent doom was another cold. syrupy-sweet jolt of cherry flavor. That, and a muscle cramp in my forearm.
Had the opportunity recently to spend a little time in The City. Meant to go out and take more pictures than the ones I did, but halfway through the day the motivation left me; too cold, too crowded, too expensive. But I still captured several shot that I like (and surprised they turned out as well as they did as handheld shots because neither my camera nor lenses are particularly great in low lighting situations). The day proved that maybe I need to consider contact lens rather than glasses as viewfinders and glasses aren't very compatible.
Little by little I'm starting to ramp back up creatively outside of work. Will need to especially if GPP is going to go anywhere.
Can't wait to whip this puppy out on Friday. Methinks I should invite Betty over to enjoy a cool and refreshing icy treat too. Hope she likes grape.
It all started back in high school when I got my first set of wheels. A 1969 Chevy Malibu. A borderline muscle car (if it had a bigger engine) it was a rather butch vehicle for me, and I liked that. I also like that it was a hand-me-down from my dad and sort of symbolized a bit of a passing of the torch or the extension of a legacy. More importantly, to me, it symbolized freedom.
If I wanted to go somewhere, it was up to me. Hop in the car, and go as far as a tank of gas would allow. During the summer between my junior and senior year in high school, I could most often be found tearing up the deserted roads in the rolling hills east of town. The speedometer went up to 120-mph and I liked to see how close I could get to the century mark on the flat straightaways before having to brake hard before the next series of hills. Cranking the likes of Jesus Jones, Marky Mark & the Funky Bunch, C+C Music Factory, Vanilla Ice, Seal, Roxette, Madonna, Wilson Phillips, Depeche Mode, B-52s, Janet Jackson, and Amy Grant (yes, I had a varied taste in music, still do) on KWOD 106.5 FM during my long solo flights of back-roads fancy left me with a high, a sensation I find myself longing for whenever I'm feeling tied down. If I was lucky, "The Power of Love" by Huey Lewis and the News would hit the airwaves and I'd be transported into a state or nirvana pretending I was in a flux capacitor equipped DeLorean back in good ol' 1985. (Hey, I'm a geek, what did you expect?)
Back then, those joyrides-for-one were a time of self discovery. Thinking about the past, the future, and how to just keep making the most of the present. I had come to terms with the part of me that I had to keep secret, so getting away from everyone, even for a couple of hours, allowed me to drop character and just be me with me. Those were good times. Necessary times. And affordable times with gas under a buck a gallon.
I've never outgrown that need for solitary adventure. Throughout my varied collegiate endeavors, I would often find that the perfect study break to mentally refocus was usually a brisk drive on Silverado Trail through the vineyards of the Napa Valley (29 was always too crowded) or Hwy 1 around Half Moon Bay and points south. Heck, sometimes a good get-myself-lost-in-the-city drive would do the trick.
My first major trip by myself happened in the latter half of the 90s when I was given the opportunity to visit South Korea for a week, all expenses paid. There are so many great stories to tell — including slow dancing with and being serenaded by a woman at the same time — but such tales are for another time.
The next major solo trip was for what I consider my first "real" vacation, meaning that I was working a real job, making real money, and was using real vacation days to take my next globetrotting trip. Where did I end up? The Jamacian Outback. Click on the link if you've never heard of it. It is to this date probably my most daring and relaxing getaway ever. And yes, it too is filled with plenty of stories that will one day be told here.
The last big adventure-for-one was more than four years ago and I've got the itch to fly solo again. This time, though, I've got a few more shackles tying me down (mortgage, work, inflation) that are making it challenging to take the trip I want need to take. Not willing to let those things stop me, I've decided — and I know I'm tempting fate by even mentioning it here; the cookie told me not to — to take a shorter, more realistic road-trip down to SoCal and hit up 3 theme parks in three days. I've priced it all out and provided I can get those days off, it looks like it will be a wicked fun and still affordable thrill-seeking good time. Which brings us back to the title of this post. For those of you not familiar with the term, "single rider" refers traveling by themselves who is allowed to skip ahead the ride's queue and fill any open seat on the ride. It's an amazing time saver! The downside is that you're not able to share the thrill and experience with anyone you know in the moment, which depending on your outlook might not be so bad after all.
There you have it. I'm embracing my Single Rider status because I realized that at the end of the day, you're only going to have the trip you're looking for by going it alone. And if you want to share the memories with someone else, bring a camera and post your pics on Flickr. You won't have to buy the camera a seat on the plane and it won't work itself into a gay rage about how loudly you snore.
Two posts in as many days? And both "Nerd Alerts" to boot?? No, hell hasn't frozen over, so let's not panic, OK?
Tonight I came home late (again) and being Friday meant that it was time to watch my Thursday night shows. And until Mythbusters returns in a few days) the only TV I watch presently. 
"Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D List" is pretty much the maximum amount of TV I'm watching these days. Or nights. When I actually have time. Thanks the universal higher powers (and the universal remote control) for TiVo. But now I have one more reason to thank the powers, the remote, and the software engineers over in Alviso. I'm referring, of course, to the Summer 2008 software update! And it brings the love of my life — TiVo Series 3 — several steps closer to perfection.
"So what's the big deal about some software update? How big of a nerd are you?!"
A really big one. And this update brings with it a great new feature to TiVo: YouTube.
"Really? You're working yourself up into a gay tizzy over YouTube? YouTube?!? My freaking phone has YouTube on it. Geez!"
Well, my phone has it too (and it probably looks better for reasons I won't get in to. BUT... I bet your phone doesn't have a 42" widescreen and pumps out 1080p resolution! Well, YT videos don't actually come in that resolution, but my TiVo and TV both do a great job upscaling it and the results a totally watchable (provided the video wasn't captured on a cheap camera phone). Now I can watch Criso Zills, Michael Buckley, and Match Game clips from the comfort of my sofa. The navigation ain't horrible, but it's definitely not the same searching experience as on a computer (or even an iPhone). And I'm disappointed that for whatever reason, Randy Pausch's Last Lecture, the full 1 hour and 16 minutes of it, is no where to be found (this probably has something to do with it not yet being updated with the new codec). But I can make do with the tons of other videos already out there. Maybe in a future update TiVo will be able to subscribe to YT broadcasters. That would be neat.
There's several other nifty enhancements, many of which really should have been there to begin with, but better late than never, right?
So at this point in my life, TiVo has crossed the threshold of something I love, to something of marriage material. Perfect? No. But far better than anything else I've seen out there.
…
You may have noticed that this post has a ton of links in it. Well, you can thank MarsEdit for that. Adding links (and other tags) has never been simpler! I'm having to say that using it is starting to restore the fun found in blogging. My full review of it will be coming at the end of the trial period. Stay tuned…
I hadn't planned on posting anything tonight. Not even the sick stuff I learned about Superman and Spiderman over pizza. But I found some tasty software that I'm using to compose this post with, and you know me, if it is in the least bit geeky, I'm there.
So what is this delicious morsel of blog writing goodness? It's an app called MarsEdit. It's been around for a while, and while I hate to admit that I'm familiar with the name, for whatever reason it never clicked that it would work with Blogger allowing me to compose offline and post later. Mmmm, now that's appealing!
I've been using it now for all of 5 minutes so I can't really give a review of it just yet, but I will say that so far I'm impressed. Drafting this post has been a lot faster than the web interface I've been used to. Over the next 30-days (which is how long the trial period lasts) I will hopefully have the chance to put it through its paces. Now if they'd only come up with a version for my iPhone I would be in blogger bliss.
I'm so ashamed. I'd forgotten how excellent American Beauty is. I had been putting of watching it for years. It's literally been sitting on myself, still in the wrapper, since the day I bought it 5 years ago. What a fool I've been for taking it for granted all of this time. The storytelling. The characters. The performances. The music. The cinematography. The art direction. It's a modern masterpiece. 
Kevin Spacey and Annette Bening could not have been more perfect. Thora Birch is entrancing. Wes Bently is engrossing. Chris Cooper is gut-wrenching. And Allison Janney is surprisingly heartbreaking even in the scenes where she doesn't say a word.
The DVD has been retired back to its case for an hour already but the high you feel from watching something truly exceptional and so utterly captivating is sticking with me. I feel so inspired to create, to reinvest time into the pursuit of the film making ambitions of days gone by, to remind everyone there's a experience waiting for them on DVD that outshines brainless summer television broadcasts and big-budget popcorn flicks at the theater or pretty much anything made in the past 10 years and you owe it to yourself to watch it as soon as you can. And apparently I was inspired to write the longest sentence in the history of this blog. Phew! If you've got a DVD player and receiver capable of processing DTS 5.1 soundtracks, I highly recommend watching the movie with the DTS 5.1 soundtrack over the Dolby Digital 5.1 soundtrack. I won't bore you with the details, but your ears will thank me.
Open a nice bottle of red wine—it isn't required to make the movie amazing, but trust me, it ties in perfectly even if only from a color pallet perspective— and watch this movie tonight!
