Goodbye Sherwood

Sherwood Schwartz died yesterday. I felt kind of melancholy when I heard about it. He was responsible for two of my favorite tv shows; Gilligans’s Island and The Brady Bunch.

When I was a kid, I wanted to live on Gilligan’s Island. Daily social situations and interactions appeared a lot easier when there are only 7 people involved.
As a child I always related to Gilligan. He was always getting into trouble and goofing stuff up. So was I.
When I was in high school I came up with the idea that all of the castaways had died in the ship wreck and the island was their Heaven. Eventually, that Rescue From Gilligan’s Island movie came out and wrecked the whole theory.

Interesting trivia
In the opening credits of the first season, you can see a flag flying at half-mast in the background. President Kennedy had just been assassinated not too long before it was filmed.

Schwartz was also responsible for The Brady Bunch. I was 12 when the show premiered in 1969 and most of the kids on the show were in my age group. I was able to relate to most of them. In the beginning, Jan was my favorite. I had a crush on her. Later on she went all wacky and Greg became my favorite. He was the oldest and the boss. So was I.
I always thought it was interesting that there were 12 steps on the Brady stairs. Kind of like the 12 Step Program.
It’s interesting to me that in most of the publicity shots, where the family is standing on the stairs, Jan is usually on the 6th step. In the 12 Step Program no. 6 is Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. It did seem that Jan WAS the most defective Brady. Or at least had the most neuroses.
I have no talent.
I can’t find a boyfriend.
I’m ugly.
I won the essay contest, but OOPS, it was a mistake. I didn’t really win.

I’m so glad I finally stopped relating to her.

Anyway, RIP Sherwood Schwartz. Living to be 94 is pretty damn good.

Number 12 Looks Just Like Facebook

This morning MySpace was no. 7 in the trending now on my Yahoo page. MySpace? I haven’t heard from them in forever. So, I went to read some of the articles.

The article from Fortune Magazine was titled MySpace’s doom was in its DNA. I must admit that the reason I got a computer in the first place was because of MySpace. Up until then I was a technophobic quasi-luddite. I had read WAY too many conspiracy theory books and was still in my bar codes are the mark of the beast and the internet is satan phase.

I liked MySpace because of it’s creative aspect. It’s where I learned html and how to make gifs. I got tips and tricks from people that I had friended. Later on, I was one of the people giving out the tips.

In his BusinessWeek article, Felix Gillette argues that MySpace users’ ability to tweak their profile designs was one of the site’s “first breakthroughs.” The developers had accidentally allowed users to insert HTML into their profiles, “allowing them to play around with the background colors and personalize their pages, leading to the site’s kaleidoscopic, techno-junkyard aesthetic, which became its trademark.”

For the site’s users at the time, this was a feature. For users who might otherwise have signed up, it was a bug. MySpace has almost willfully discouraged older people, smarter people, and more mainstream people from joining. Facebook, meanwhile, has kept tight control over its design, which has remained free of blinking graphics and gaudy color schemes. Your elderly aunt could join it if she wanted to. And as time went on, she did.

I was one of those people with the blinking graphics and gaudy color scheme. I would add, update, and alter my page all of the time, and yes, there were times when it looked like a cross between Las Vegas, Oompa Loompa land and a really bad acid trip… but I didn’t care. I was being creative. I was discovering new techniques and increasing my digitally artistic repoirtoire.

Some people didn’t like it. I would get comments about the flashing pictures or about how ‘busy’ my page was. At first I took umbrage. I would respond back with, “It’s called MYSPACE, not YOURSPACE. If you don’t like what’s on my page then unfriend and block me.”

People kept insisting that I ‘tone it down’, and after a while I did. I just got tired of the comments.

I still can't believe that people complained about my glowing Thomas Edison. I took me 5 days to figure out how to do that.

One day I signed up for Facebook. I had heard about it and decided to investigate. One I had signed up I spent hours trying to figure out how to change the page. I wanted to add my own flair. I tried to upload gifs and much to my chagrin the pictures just would not move.
What? Facebook doesn’t support gifs? What kind of crap is that?
No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get my Facebook page to be anything other that a big white page with nothing but text. How boring!

Once I finally admitted ‘I can’t figure out how to tweak this thing’ defeat, I quit going on Facebook. It wasn’t until I started getting friend requests from family members and old schoolmates that I started back up with it. It was still boring. I didn’t want to talk about what I did today or ask people how they were doing. I wanted to create.

The differences between MySpace and Facebook reminded me of that episode of the Twilight Zone called Number 12 Looks Just Like You.

Synopsis (from wikipedia):

Which one? You only have 2 choices. You can look like no. 8 or no.12.

In a future society, all young adults go through a process known as “the Transformation,” in which each person’s body and face are changed to mimic a physically attractive design chosen from a small selection of numbered models. The process gives everyone a beautiful appearance, slows deterioration due to age and extends a person’s lifespan, and makes the recipient immune to any kind of disease.

The motive of the Transformation is social harmony. According to Professor Sig, a psychologist with the Transformation service, “Years before, wiser men than I . . . saw that physical unattractiveness was one of the factors that made men hate, so they charged the finest scientific minds with the task of eliminating ugliness in mankind.”

"And the nicest part of all, Val, is that I look just like you"!

18-year-old Marilyn Cuberle decides not to undergo the Transformation, seeing nothing wrong with her unaltered appearance. Nobody else can understand Marilyn’s decision, and those around her are confused by her displeasure with the conformity and shallowness of contemporary life. Her “radical” beliefs were fostered by her now-deceased father, who gave Marilyn banned books and came to regret his own Transformation years earlier (we learn that he committed suicide upon the loss of his identity).

Despite continued urging from family, doctors, and her best friend, Marilyn is still adamant about refusing the operation. She insists that the leaders of society don’t care whether people are beautiful or not, they just want everyone to be the same. Her pleas about the “dignity of the individual human spirit” and how “when everyone is beautiful, no one will be” have no impact. After being driven to tears by the inability of anyone to understand how she feels, she is put through the procedure and (like all the others) is enchanted with the beautiful result.

Dr. Rex, who operated on Marilyn, comments about how some people have problems with the idea of the Transformation but that “improvements” to the procedure now guarantee a positive result, thus indicating that there may be modifications made to the mind as well. Marilyn reappears, looking and thinking exactly like her best friend Valerie. “And the nicest part of all, Val,” she gushes, “I look just like you!” The last shots are of her, admiring herself in the mirror and smiling.

I saw the episode for the first time when I was about 11 or 12. I totally related to Marilyn. I hadn’t read 1984 yet, so it was my introduction to the idea of totalitarianism and conformity.

I had experienced the comformity issue somewhat. As a kid, I had been pressured into Little League. I was no good at baseball. I was placed in right field and never caught a ball that came my way. I struck out every single time I got up to bat. I would walk up to the plate and the other players and parents in the bleachers would groan.
Why was I being made to play a game that I obviously wasn’t any good at or had no interest in?

Then there was the issue of my clothes. I wanted to wear the brightest colors. I wanted to wear the bell bottoms with the biggest flair, the hip huggers with the hippest hug, the shirt with the most psychedelic and trippy design and the widest belt available. I was told by my parents that people would think I was weird. I was also told the same thing when I acted certain ways.

When I wanted to practice twirling my sister’s baton I was confined to the basement. I had learned very quickly that doing so in the front yard would result in admonishment, strange looks and the occasional ‘sissy’ comment.

I eventually gave up the baton and turned to juggling. It was considered more appropriate and masculine. When I practiced juggling, I didn’t have to hide in the basement and people didn’t laugh or look at me funny. I remember thinking that they were both skills that involved manual dexterity and coordination, so “why should it matter which one I choose to do”?

Reading that article about MySpace this morning left me feeling sad. MySpace used to be fun. I lost interest somewhat after they changed it to be more like Facebook. Some of the HTML features were disabled. I could no longer be as creative as before.
I don’t know how much longer MySpace will last. I guess it doesn’t really matter since it is no longer the way that it was when I joined.

For me MySpace was about originality. Facebook has the look and feel of conformity. Maybe that’s why it’s so popular. Maybe everybody wants to look like Number 12.

 

Update:
When I went to the blogging section of freshly pressed, this was the title of the blog post that came right after this one.

Google Launches Google+, a Facebook Look-Alike.

It Speaks, Yet Says Nothing

Sometimes, when I go back and read some of the other posts that I’ve written I think, “Dude, you sound like a crackhead”! Such as with the post from yesterday. I guess that’s what happens when the write a post around the pictures instead of the other way around. IDK.

Today is the day that I call to see if I have jury duty tomorrow. It’s almost been two months and so far nothing. My sister’s friend, Mike, is coming in tomorrow, so more that likely when I call this morning the recording will say, “There WILL be a trial tomorrow. Please report to room blah blah at 8 am.”
In addition to calling the JD hotline, I’m also going to have to call the Bailiff afterwards and leave my new phone number.

Every Tuesday I get an email with trivia from Ken Jennings. There are 7 questions and I usually suck at them. The last question is always a list and you have to find out what the items have in common. This is the list from today:

7. What unusual distinction is shared by these historical figures? Julius Caesar, Thomas Chatterton, Cleopatra, James Cook, Lady Jane Grey, Leonardo da Vinci, Jean-Paul Marat, Montezuma, Horatio Nelson, Socrates.

I have no clue. I know that Caesar got stabbed, Cleopatra got bitten by an asp, and Marat was stabbed in the bathtub. I thing that Lady Jane Grey got her head chopped off. I’m thinking that the answer has something to do with the way that they died.
If you figure it out, let me know.

This was the final question from last week:

7. What unusual (and fairly specific) distinction is shared by all these movies? The Barefoot Contessa, The Brothers McMullen, Frankenstein (1931), Great Expectations (1946), Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Night of the Living Dead, Plan 9 from Outer Space, Saving Private Ryan, Under the Volcano, Volver.

The answer is that they are all movies that begin in a cemetery. I didn’t get that one either. I had to wait until the answer came out today.

I just called and there is not a trial tomorrow.

In addition to being the smallest state west of the Mississippi, Arkansas is also the most boring. I guess nobody ever commits a crime. Either that or they all plead guilty.

Here’s a gif that someone posted on Tumblr. I thought it was cool. I think it’s Timothy Leary.

Timothy Leary was famous for this saying:

I never did any of that. I think the closest I ever came was watching a trippy Marshall McLuhan film in 9th grade Civics class. 

Marshall McLuhan was a Canadian who is known for coining the expressions The medium is the message and The global village. He also predicted the World Wide Web almost 30 years before it was invented.
His most widely known work is the book Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man.
My favorite of his media and their messages quotes is the one about television.

“It speaks, and yet says nothing”

I can agree with that. Even when I was a kid I remember thinking that television was the world’s greatest propaganda tool. People believe just about everything that they see and hear on television.

Ring Ring! Your Middle Age is Calling.

So, I was looking at photos of rotary telephones that I had googled. They had the nerve to call this phone VINTAGE.

That phone is NOT vintage. Retro maybe, but not vintage.

As far as I’m concerned, stuff isn’t vintage until everyone who was alive when it was invented is dead.

Now THESE are vintage.

                      

For me, a phone isn’t truly a phone unless it has a party line, or can be used as a murder weapon.

Also, telephones are supposed to have switchboard operators at the other end.

The phones nowadays suck. Cell phones! Phooey! Sure you can do a lot of stuff with them and I have one, but that’s beside the point. Cell phones have no personality. They’re little electronic annoyances. If you want something dependable, it needs to be linked to a landline… not a satellite.

Every day, thousands of people lose their cell phones. It’s kind of hard to lose a rotary phone. They’re either mounted to the wall or so heavy that you have a be an Olympic athlete weightlifter to pick them up. 

I’ll admit that rotary phones CAN be a pain in the butt. Especially if you’re trying to be the first caller to a radio station, so that you can win tickets to the Mott the Hoople concert, and you misdial on the last number. But so what. The concert probably would have sucked anyway.

You can’t take rotary landline phones with you. So what. The bells are super-loud and you can hear them from a mile away. Think of all the exercise you will get when run your ass off to answer the phone before the person hangs up.

You can’t text with a rotary phone. Okay, so write a letter and give the mailman something to do. Besides, texting is so annoying anyway. You don’t even have to know how to spell. All you have to know is the first letter of the word.

OMG
TTFN
TTYL
IDK
KMAMF
GTH
LMFAO
BAMF
YWBWIJH

Can you imagine what it would have been like if our Forefathers would have had texting capabilites?

Yo J. I’m riting the preamb 2 that const. thing we were talkin bout. How this B?

WTPOTUSIO2FAMPU

BITD – I mean, back in the day, we were left to our own devices. If you got stranded somewhere, or even kidnapped, then you had to actually use your imagination to get yourself out of the precarious prediciment. No calling or texting. Just your wits and survival skills. Nowadays, if people don’t have their cell phone and they get lost, they just die.

Cell phones turn people into zombies. Take a look at a zombie movie and then take a look at a busy metropolis during lunch hour. It’s the same scene. People ambling aimlessly, oblivious to anything other that the vapid conversation coming from the other end of the phone. They run into buildings. They walk into heavy traffic. Some have even fallen into water fountains.

Heaven forbid if there’s a bluetooth involved. Then they look like psych ward out-patients. Running around like a raving lunatics and flailing their arms. One-sided arguments that sound like psycho-babble.

You think, “Are they talking to me”?
“Is this a crazy person that I should run from”?

Who needs Big Brother when people have cell phones? They constantly rat themselves out. From their cell phones, they update their social networking sites with maps pinpointing exactly where the are. They blab everything to the world. They post pictures of themselves committing crimes. They send nude pictures of themselves. What kind of idiotic behavior is this? Do you WANT people to think you’re an idiot? Do you WANT the cops to know where you are when you break the law? Do you WANT to have to resign from public office?

This past weekend I went to a cell phone store to get a different plan. The girl was like, “Ummm, you only use an average of 13 minutes a month. You could probably get by with a lesser plan.”

Actually, I could probably get by with a rotary landline phone.

Electric Friday

The electrician came this morning to install a new ceiling fan in the living room, a new ceiling light in the kitchen, and a new ceiling light in the other bedroom. Ugh! I was kind of nervous when he was walking around in the attic. He was kind of large and I thought that he might fall through the ceiling. He didn’t. YAY!

I thought about attempting all of that myself, but I never made it past 7th grade wood shop. Electricity scares me. I still won’t get into a hot tub or jacuzzi because of that episode of Charlie’s Angels where some lady got electrocuted in a hot tub. Of course, it was rigged by the murderer, but still…

I don’t think I’m a pessimist or anything, but I always have the worst case scenerio in my head when I do stuff. Like…

It’s going to be MY plane that crashes.
It’s going to be the one box of Tylenol capsules that I buy that is laced with cyanide.
During a bank hold-up it’s going to be ME who is taken as hostage.

I hate being like that. I wish I could just get over it.

Anyway, it was kind of like that today when the electrician came. I kept thinking, “Okay, somewhere, something is going to be wrong, or messed- up, therefore preventing him from being able to accomplish the task”.

I guess that I just need to have more faith in people. IDK.

Anyway, I heard a new riddle today. I usually hate riddles, but this one cracked me up.

A murderer is condemned to death. He has to choose between three rooms. The first is full of raging fires, the second is full of assassins with loaded guns, and the third is full of lions that haven’t eaten in 3 years. Which room is safest for him?

I felt stupid because I couldn’t come up with the answer. When I heard the answer I was like, “OMG…DUH!”

Yesterday I reached the 100,000 stats mark on my other blog. I started it the same time as this one, but it gets a LOT more hits.

I guess I got lucky that I went to the stats page right after it had reached 100,000.

Also, yesterday, I ended up getting the most hits in one day. Most of the hits come from google searches. I almost hit the 2000 mark, but was a tad bit shy.

With the exception of that one day that I was featured in Freshly Pressed, I don’t come anywhere near that number on this blog. It’s usually between 50 and 80 a day.

Enough about that.

I’ve been one a diet for the last month. I already lost 2 belt loops. The pair of 38 inch waist shorts that I bought last week are also getting to be too big in the waist. I feel lighter.
I cut out all of the bad stuff. No soda. No sweets. I quite making cakes with tons of frosting.
I even started eating those yucky rice cakes.
I keep track of the calories with an app that I got for my iphone. It really helps a lot.

I’m trying to get down to the weight that I was in this picture.

That’s me in the middle. You can’t tell by looking at it, but I weighed 180. I’m 6 feet, so that’s pretty good.
That’s my brother, David, on the left. He lives in St. Louis. The guy holding the lady’s boob is my nephew, Nick. He has a doctorate in Journalism and teaches at some college in West Virginia.
One time I tried to read his dissertation, but it was WAY over my head.
Here is a sample from one of the pages.

Ummm…okay. Thanks for the info.

Hey, did you know this?

Well, I didn’t. Not until today anyway.

I don’t have any plans for tonight, but this seems to be the most logical.

Anyway, if you didn’t figure out what the answer to the riddle is, it’s the lions. Lions who haven’t eaten in 3 years are dead.

7 of the Coolest Things I Have Ever Seen

These are in no particular order.

1. Grand Canyon Skywalk

The Skywalk is a horseshoe shaped cantilever bridge on the edge of a side canyon in the Grand Canyon West area. It’s owned by the Hualapai Indian Tribe. To get there you have to travel about 20 miles on the bumpiest non-paved road I have ever been on.

I’m one of those people who has a fear of heights and had some reservations about walking out onto the bridge. Mainly because the floor is glass. It’s made with four layers of Saint-Gobain Diamant low iron glass.

When I finally got the nerve to open my eyes and look down, it was awesome. Like some people, though, I couldn’t muster the nerve to lay on my stomach and look down.

2. Luncheon of the Boating Party by Renoir

Le déjeuner des canotiers or "Luncheon of the Boating Party"

Renoir is one of my favorite artists and Luncheon of the Boating Party is one of my favorite paintings. When I went to Washington D.C. for my 50th birthday, I made sure that seeing it was at the top of my list of things to do. It is housed at the Phillips Collection.

I think the thing that surprised me the most about it was how big it was. You can’t really tell how big or small a painting is until you see it in person. When I walked into the room where it was housed I was amazed. I always pictured it as being much smaller.

I had studied the painting, so I knew who all of the people in it were. I tried to film it with my camcorder, but found out that was a big no-no. You could take pictures of it, but weren’t allowed to use flash photography.

Here are two of the best shots I got:

3. The House that Lincoln Died in

After Lincoln was shot in Ford’s Theater, he was taken across the street to the home of William Peterson. Boarder, Henry Safford, had been standing in the open doorway and gestured  for the doctors to bring the president inside.

When I saw it, aside from the guide, I was the only person in the house. It had very narrow hallways and the rooms were small. The guide stayed up front and let me walk around on my own. I kept waiting to see the ghost of Lincoln. I never did.

Here are some of the pictures I took:

This is the bed that Lincoln died on

 
4. Mount Rushmore

Mount Rushmore is one of the most awe-inspiring places I have ever been to. I saw it for the first time when I was 13, and I’m pretty sure that it was the catalyst that sparked my interest in U.S. Presidents and presidential history.

You have to see it in person to understand how truly magnificent it is. It’s located near Keystone in South Dakota.

Sculpted by Gutzon Borglum and later by his son Lincoln Borglum, Mount Rushmore features 60-foot sculptures of the heads of former United States presidents (in order from left to right) George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln. The entire memorial covers 1,278.45 acres and is 5,725 feet above sea level.

5. Tommy Lee peeing next to me

Tommy Lee was the drummer for Mötley Crüe. He was also married to Heather Locklear and Pamela Anderson. One time when I was using the men’s room in the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, I looked over and discovered that he was right next to me. I was like, “Hey, that’s Tommy Lee”.

I remember thinking to myself if I should look or not. I glanced down for about 2 seconds. No big deal.

I have also been in the men’s room with Sinbad and Richard Thomas, who played John Boy on The Waltons, but they weren’t peeing next to me.

That day that I glanced down at Tommy Lee’s business was the only time that I have ever broken one of the men’s public restroom rules.

6. Dizzy Gillespie playing his Trumpet

When I was 19, I went to a Jazz convention in Dallas. I was in college at the time, and played vibes in a jazz combo. During one of the recording studio seminars, they needed a vibes player, and I volunteered. Also at the seminar was Jazz Trumpeter, Dizzy Gillespie. I was about 10 feet away from him as he recorded his part for the track. I was majorly starstruck.

On a semi-related side note, and NOT one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

Also, when I was 19, I went with 2 friends to see Buddy Rich in concert. We were sitting in the front row. My friend, Jack, started talking during one of the songs. Buddy Rich stopped playing and came down to the front of the stage to chew him out. I shrunk in my seat. You haven’t been chewed out until you’ve been chewed out by Buddy Rich.


7. Bonnie and Clyde Death Car

The famous Bonnie and Clyde car is a 1934 Ford Model 730 Deluxe Sedan. It’s on display
at the Primm Valley Resort and Casino, not too far from the Nevada-California border. The engine is a large eighty-five HP V8, and the transmission is manual 3 speed.

Also on display are:
* Certificate of authenticity for the Ford V8 as Bonnie and Clyde’s death car
* Original letter from Clyde Barrow to Henry Ford praising the merits of the Ford V8
* Clyde Barrow’s death shirt
* Certificate of authenticity for Clyde Barrow’s death shirt

I had originally gone to Primm to ride the Desperado, which, at the time, was listed in the Guiness Book of World Records as the tallest roller coaster in the world. It features a 60-degree, 225-foot drop; a 209-foot lift hill; and top speeds around 80 mph.

That first drop is really scary. The first time that I rode it, the lighter that I had in my front pocket flew out and hit some guy in the head that was in the car behind me. All pockets were supposed to be empty for that very reason. Anyway, he was fine.

It was after I had ridden the Desperado that I discovered the Bonnie and Clyde Death Car.

Of course, the are more that 7 things on my ‘coolest things I have ever seen’ list, but these are just a few in my top 50.

Leaving Las Vegas – Part 1

Last night I watched about an hour of the Daytime Emmy Awards. It was televised from the Hilton in Las Vegas, and as I watched I got homesick. I spent almost 20 years of my life there.

The first year I lived there I hated it. It was like living on a different planet. I eventually got used to it and started loving it.

The very first place that I lived when I moved there was Harbor Island. It’s one of those rent by the week places. Two days after I moved there I got a job at the Westward Ho. I worked the graveyard shift in the coffee shop. I was a foodserver. I was the only guy server. It was me and a bunch of old ladies. One of them kept stealing the toast that I had made for my orders.

Harbor Island was not a fun place to live. It seemed like there was at least one major drug bust there every week.

After about 2 months of living there, I met this guy named Adam who was looking for a roommate. Adios and good riddance Harbor Island. Hello 3 bedroom house.

After about a year, I quit the Westward Ho job and started working at Big Dogs Cafe and Casino. Again, I was working graveyard.

The supervisor on my shift was C.J. Graham. C.J. was also an actor. He had played the part of Jason Voorhees in Friday the 13th Part 6: Jason Lives. So I guess you could say I worked for Jason Voorhees.

I quit Big Dogs after about a year. The MGM Grand was opening and I got a job in Leonardo’s Italian Restaurant. It was supposed to be fine dining, but believe me, it wasn’t. I got stuck working in the VIP room a lot. Ugh! I hated the VIP room. Talk about picky people.

I used to have to wait on Bill Medley from the Righteous Brothers at least once or twice a week. He would sit at the back table and face the wall. Whatever. It was always the same.

Hello, and welcome to Leonardo’s Fine Italian Restaurant. My name is Bob and I’ll be…

Interruption

I’m Bill Medley from the Righteous Brothers and here is what I want.
Blah blah blah…al dente…blah blah blah…al’ olio…blah blah blah…but tell the chef not to….blah blah blah.

After about the 5th time I was like, “Ummm, yeah, so I know who you are and I know want you want”.

Seriously, I do have a memory.

Then there was Michael Crawford. Famous for The Phantom of the Opera. Now he was doing the EFX show. He used to come in with his little entourage after his show and he was kind of a messy eater.

It was required that every MGM employee see the EFX show, so that we could talk about it with our guests. The night that I saw it, there were a bunch of mechanical problems and they had to stop the show twice. Whenever people asked me about it, I would have to lie.

“Ummm, yeah, it’s really good.”

I always liked waiting on the boxers. They were the nicest and least pretentious. Maybe because of brain damage. IDK. I even met Evander Holyfield BEFORE he got his ear bit off.

I waited on Don King twice. Seeing his hair in person was truly magnificent. I wanted to touch it.

After about 3 years Leonardos closed. As did about 4 other restaurants in the MGM. All of the spaces were leased out to other restaurants. We were all laid off.
Goodbye MGM.

It was about this time that I moved out of Adam’s house and into an apartment. He had become a major pain and I was sick of his obnoxious shenanigans. My last words to Adam were “Adios, Mother F**ker”!

The Twain Estates was my new residence. It was about 4 blocks from the Las Vegas strip – right down the street from Caesar’s Palace. It was also right next door to Chinatown.

My apartment was on the second floor. I shared a stairway with the apartment right across from me. After a few days I met the 2 girls who lived there. They were strippers. Their names were Alicia and Shannon, and they always had people over. It was basically people clumping up and down the stairs 24/7. After a while it became quite annoying. Especially when guys would come over and knock on my door instead of theirs. After a while, instead of answering the door, I would just scream “They live next door”!

Shannon and Alicia eventually moved out and the apartment stayed vacant for quite some time. After a while I started to miss all of the stripper action.

End of part 1

Those Horrible School Photos

I always hated school photos. With the exception of my first grade picture, every single one of mine has the potential to be placed next to the definition of the word “Dork” in the dictionary.

I had all kinds of potential, but somehow between the first and second grade something went horribly wrong.

First Grade

Awww, he's such a sweet child.

Second Grade

Hey Sherman, where's Mr. Peabody!?

Fifth Grade
My fifth grade photo was exceedingly horrible because:
1. My haircut made me look like a Conehead.
2. My mom let me pick out my own tie.
3. I look constipated.

NO, I am not Ernie from "My Three Sons"!!!

Seventh Grade
My 7th grade photo wasn’t too bad. At least I got rid of the conehead haircut, and kind of smiled…well, more like a smirk. But that shirt! ICK!

Ninth Grade
Okay, so what you don’t see in the photo is the big pink butterfly in the middle of the shirt.
Also, the faux sideburns are uber-hideous, the part in my hair is totally jacked up, and I have swoopy bangs.
At least I’m smiling.
Barry Goldwater glasses must have been in style that year. IDK.

Twelfth Grade
My Senior picture is one of the most awful things ever recorded on film. Believe it or not, I had actually lost my virginity by the time this picture was taken.
The hair is just super whack. You can’t tell from the black and white film, but both the jacket and tie are green.

I am placing the following photos into the post in hopes that one of those school pictures doesn’t show up (fingers crossed) as the featured picture when the post comes up on Freshly Pressed. That would just be so appalling.








The Not-So-Amazing World of 3D

I read an article the other day about how moviegoers are losing interest in 3D movies. The article cited various reasons as to why. For me, the reason is simple. It’s such an obnoxious chore to watch them.

I suppose that if you had 20/20 vision, it wouldn’t be so bad. But, since I don’t have that 20/20 vision, I don’t know what the experience is really like.

Here is what people with good vision see:

Without my glasses, this is what I see:

3D is a movie gimmick. Bwana Devil, released in 1952, is considered the first feature length 3D movie. Apparently, movie sales were dropping off because of the culprit known as television. So, to get people back into the movie theaters they needed a gimmick. 3D was it.

3D enhances the illusion of depth perception. It’s like a giant Viewmaster, only the pictures move.

I have never seen a 3D movie, where afterwards, I didn’t leave the theater feeling completely frustrated.

First of all, you have to wear those glasses. I already wear glasses, so I have to put the 3D glasses over them.

Second, I have astigmatism and horrible depth perception. Astigmatism is a defect in the eye or in a lens caused by a deviation from spherical curvature, which results in distorted images, as light rays are prevented from meeting at a common focus. Add the 3d effect to that and things get really confusing.

The very first 3D movie I saw was House of Wax with Vincent Price. Even though I was only 14, and my head probably wasn’t as big as it is now, I still got paper cuts behind my ears because the stems on the cardboard glasses weren’t long enough.

Whenever I watch a 3D movie, and stuff goes all freaky, I can’t tell if it’s because of me or the movie. I’ve tried all kinds of techniques to try to keep the movie in focus. I’ve tried;

  • Watching without the 3D glasses
  • Putting my regular glasses OVER the 3D glasses
  • Watching with one eye closed
  • Continually re-adjusting the 3D glasses (therefore causing paper cuts behind my ears)
  • Wearing the 3D glasses upside down

The only thing that seems to work is watching the movie with the 3D glasses on and one eye covered. I don’t get to see the 3D effect, but at least the movie stays somewhat in focus.

Apparently, since its inception, there have been all kinds of advances made in 3D technology. Yeah, whatever. For someone like me, who has Mr. Magoo vision, that technology will always be in its inchoate stage.

Now they have 3D television. About 6 months ago, when I was a Best Buy to get a new TV, the salesman tried every trick in the book to get me to buy one.
I was like, “Look dude, I’ve been around 3D a lot longer than you. I don’t care how many advances that the experts say have been made in the technology, it still sucks”.

“Oh no, he said, “It’s so much better than it used to be”.

I was thinking, “How in the crap do you know? You’re like 12.”

He tried to get me to put on those new and improved big ass ‘I just had my pupils dilated old person glasses’  and watch the demo 3D TV. Pass! Just put the new TV in the car and let me be on my merry way.

Illusion-O glasses

As far as movie gimmicks go (yes, 3D is a gimmick), I much prefer vibrating seats, hypnovista (which TOTALLY does not work), illusion-o, blood dripping from the ceiling, sensurround and smell-o-rama. At least those gimmicks involve senses in which I have full capacity.

Hey, let me put on these groovy glasses and watch a movie all screwed up and out of focus. YAY!

The Taste of Music is Sometimes Sour

Let’s face it, everybody has songs that they keep secret. Songs that they would NEVER let their friends or family know that they like. Some, of which, may even be in their top 20 favorite songs of all time.

Luckily, with the advent of headphones, and eventually walkmans, mp3 players, and ipods, it’s a lot easier to hide the dirty little musical secret. You could have, what is considered by some, the best musical taste in the world, but it can all be negated as soon as people find out that you actually like Friday by Rebecca Black. You can go from musical taste savant to someone who rides the short bus to music appreciation class, all because you like one song.

I wasn’t savvy enough to hide the less than astute side of my musical taste until I was well into my twenties. It was the summer of ’86 and I was having a poker party in my apartment. During one of ours breaks, my friend John started looking through my record collection. All of a sudden I heard him shout, “Oh my God, Bob! What the hell is this? You LIKE this”?
Then he held up the album for everyone to see.

Everybody busted out laughing.

I ran over and grabbed the album out of his hands. “That’s not mine”, I lied. “That’s my sister’s album. It must have gotten mixed in when I moved”.

“I know your sister”, said John. “This is not hers. You’re such a liar, Bob”.

He was right. I was a liar. It WAS my album.

After that, a few of the other guys started rummaging through my albums.

I rolled my eyes, and went into the kitchen to get another beer. All of a sudden I heard someone go “EWWWWWWWW!”, followed by hysterical guffaws.
“We have to play it”, someone said.”We have to play it.”

I went into the living room to see which album was causing all of the hysterics.

Someone pulled the album out of the jacket and put it on the turntable. A few seconds later Long-Haired Lover From Liverpool was blasting through the speakers.

Click here to listen to it

Anyway, they all started dancing around my apartment, acting like a bunch of drunken idiots. Which is what they were. Drunk and stupid idiots.

After that, there was no more poker. 

Over the course of the next few hours, my records were taken out of the covers and strewn everywhere.

At about 4 in the morning, when everyone – with the exception of Larry, who was passed out on my couch – was gone, I surveyed the damage. What a mess. As I was putting the records back into their covers, I discovered that someone had stepped on my 12 inch single of The Freaks Come Out at Night by Whodini, and cracked it into. Bastards!

So, that was the night that I learned to hide all of my records in the ‘dubious musical taste’ category. They can incite mayhem. They can turn a poker party into a Comiskey Park Disco Demolition Night type of event.

Now, I’m not saying that I have bad musical taste. I don’t think I do. Music taste is relative anyway. And, it’s age appropriate.

I like all kinds of music, for the most part, and am not afraid to play the songs openly. But, there ARE those songs that I keep hidden and only play when no one is around. The songs that I pretend I don’t like. The ones that I make fun of, but secretly love.

I guess I will rat myself out and present a partial list of those songs:

Sundown – American Juniors
Paper Roses – Marie Osmond
Shake Your Love – Debbie Gibson
Sweet and Innocent – Donny Osmond
Hearbeat – It’s a Lovebeat – The DeFranco Family
One Step Closer – S Club 8
Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde – Babs Tino
Birthday Party – The Pixies Three
Wenn Der Sommer Kommt – Heintje
Johnny Loves Me – Suzie
Easy Come, Easy Go – Bobby Sherman

and of course

Hey Deanie – Shaun Cassidy


that I mostly listen to…

Jimi Hendrix

John Coltrane

Janis Joplin

Apollo 440

Hopefully, that partially redeems me.