Big Screen Debut

Big Screen Debut

Is It Football Season Yet?

Out there somewhere, football season is on its way. Not one of the saucier HNT postings, but revealing in some way I suppose.

Faithful optimist that I try to be, I have no doubt that the Titans have just as much chance of hitting the playoffs as our division mates. We'll just have to go back to our pre-Heimerdinger ball control offense just run, run, run (with an occasional short pass to a tight end). It's just that simple. See? I could coach.

From My High Fidelity Days

It's a restless night for me. Not a bad thing for a wannabe writer. At 3:00 a.m., I am quite awake and in a reflective state. I have revisited some old Bukowski poems and have delved into several forgotten Tom Waits CDs. It feels like a night which should be accompanied by some cheap white wine, but all that I have is B&J Strawberry Daiquiri coolers. They'll do.

It seems that the things that I discovered in the early '90s have really stayed with me. I was in my early 20s at the time and really came across some cool stuff: the aforementioned Tom Waits CDs and what is now my shelf full of Bukowski books. Somehow, in remembering that period of my life, I decided that I should play "Strong Enough" by Sheryl Crow. Despite her boring works of late and her weird and uninspired duets with the likes of Kid Rock or Stevie Nicks, her first CD holds up as interesting, evocative, and fulfilling.

It has a resonant tone which continues to move me with repeated listenings. There is so much more to it than the pop songs we all remember. There is escapism, regret, joy, and empowerment. Born of a playful, weekly songwriters' get-together, Tuesday Night Music Club was released on August 3, 1993. I was working at Turtle's Music and dating the woman who would soon reveal herself to be quite unashamedly unfaithful to me. Heartbreak and personal growth was just around the corner, and of course I would turn to music and its lyrics to heal me.

David Baerwald, of David and David fame, was the co-writer who gave Sheryl Crow's songs the punch that they needed. Smart stories about flawed people, making bad decisions with the best of intentions. These songs have maintained their strength over the years. I'm sorry that David and Sheryl aren't still writing together. He is still making records with bite and heart, but no one knows who he is. And Sheryl is selling millions of records that are forgettable and bland. Someone really needs to get them together again. Until then, we'll always have 1993.

Do yourself a favor and pull out Tuesday Night Music Club and give it a listen on a quiet night. It'll do you well.

I Have A Blog. Where's My Book And Publishing Deal?

I read this in Sunday's NY Times. And if anyone is listening, I too am willing to consider optioning my life and times into an NBC comedy series.

The article is about a NYC blogger named Stephanie Klein and her huge following. She mentions how complete strangers see her on the street and tend to email her later giving their opinions on the guy she might be out with at the time. That should never stop being weird.

It reminds me of when I went to a concert and noticed that the girl next to me was someone whose blog I read daily. I introduced myself and told her that I love her blog. She seemed to get a kick out of that and told her friend, who replied to her, "you're famous!" And immediately the music started, so we didn't get to talk much more.

In thinking later of our short exchange, I thought how strange it was that here I was, next to this person I'd never met before. We'd never spoken to each other, and yet I knew a lot of seemingly trivial stuff about her. Things like: her automobile trouble a few weeks prior, her love of maps and tech stuff like PDAs, and where she ate when she went to New Orleans.

Meanwhile, I wait for my fame. Hey Media, look at me. Did I ever tell you about when I ran across the 40 yard line immediately after the Music City Miracle? There's a movie there, right?

More On The Complete New Yorker

Thanks to this well written article, I know that if I pre-purchase The Complete New Yorker : Eighty Years of the Nation's Greatest Magazine via Amazon.com, I can get it for $63, instead of the regular retail price of $100. You better believe it's on my wishlist. (Not for long though. Thanks mom!) We are putting nickels and pennies together right this minute, hoping they add up to $63.

And yes, all cartoons are included. And here's a blogger who likes the magazine maybe more than me.

Rough Justice

Today at noon, WRLT introduced the new Stones song, "Rough Justice" and I was immediately happy. But in that instant, I caught myself and remembered that just about everything that they have released since Steel Wheels has bored the crap out of me. Just safe and boring excuses to go out on the road and rock us out of our cash. I prepared myself for more of the same.

And then, I got goosebumps. "Rough Justice" sounds like an outtake from somewhere in the late '60s or early '70s. (Maybe it is?) It's imperfect, lyrically bawdy, and musically grungy. Of course, this song doesn't belong in any of the arenas or stadiums where it'll be heard this late summer. If I had my way, I'd reopen the famously unventilated 328 Performance Hall for one night and have the Stones play for me and 1,000 of my closest friends.

Thanks to It's A Gas, Gas, Gas for linking to "Rough Justice" for our listening pleasure. Turn up those speakers and have a drink.

p.s.
Don't listen to "Streets Of Love." It sounds like a bad Poison song.

What I Got

Ever hear of seborrheic keratosis? I got me some of that. Yep, a little bitty mark on my foot. I was a bit concerned that it might be some sign of diabetes, but my doc said it was a benign tumor, and of absolutely no concern. Why do I think it's cool that I have this thing with a long name on my foot? Because I am a weird, weird dude. That's why. Maybe I just really, really enjoy having an excuse to look stuff up on the internet. Other than that, I am pretty close to perfect.

Next week...blood work. Woo-hoo!

Edit to add:
Whatever you do, DO NOT Google Image Search this mess. Mine looks small and innocuous; those images on the net are harmful and gross. Those people must consult their dermatologists and now. Ewww.

My Two Year Old's Favorite Website

It should please his retired Air Force Colonel great-grandfather that he wants to watch this whenever we are in the computer room. Popular comments are, "Cool!" and Wow!"

Now we just have to teach him how to sing "Unchained Melody" to girls in bars.

Long Day, Indeed...Or, UPS and Downs

Monday night in my home, my family and I are all doing what we do. Paige and Christian are in the living room watching TV and Joshua and Ari are asleep in their beds and I am perusing blogs. It's 10:30 at night and so we are not expecting the doorbell to ring. But ring, it does. Just a bit cautious and curious, I go to the door wondering who in the world is ringing my bell at this hour. A friendly neighbor? A crazed killer? Neither. I open the door to see the UPS guy getting back into his truck and there is a package at my feet.

UPS delivers at 10:30 at night? I pick up the box and look for my name. Oops. Richard Smith. Wrong name and address. I catch the driver just as he's about to drive off and he exchanges for the correct package.

I try to make small talk with the guy. The poor guy doesn't even look up; he just makes a polite, tired smile and says, "Sorry, it's been a long day." It's been such a long day, it's not even day anymore! I tell him no worries and I hope he gets home soon. I watch him as he drives off into the night, and I think poor Richard Smith is going to hear his doorbell ring at about 11:00.

Zoom In...and learn.

Google Moon

Hunter S. Thompson, The Sendoff Of All Sendoffs

Hunter S. Thompson, will have his wish and have his ashes shot from a cannon behind his home in Woody Creek, Colorado.

Marking My Calendar, Ca Ira

Roger Waters, fresh off of his one song reunion with David Gilmour for the Live8 show, has announced the release of his first traditional opera. On September 27, "Ca Ira (There Is Hope)" will be available. Its subject matter is the French Revolution and I am waiting with bated breath.

5 months and 2 years, respectively

Ari and Joshua

Evidence that I used to work out...

Moving everything (including the kitchen sink) from Atlanta to Nashville.

In the spring of '02, Paige accepted my marriage proposal and a few months later, we moved her things to Music City. And no, we didn't really move a kitchen sink, but it was an irresistible prop.

A little public service announcement.

For all of you travelers.

A boy and his dog.

Every Issue On DVD? For Me?

I read this twice. Just in case I missed something. Nope. It's all gonna be there. Every story. Every poem. The whole lovely thing. The only thing in my mailbox that makes me smile. Every New Yorker magazine issue from 1925 to present, on an 8-disc set. I'm still not going to throw out my stacks of old copies. Just in case.

Also, it's searchable. Meaning I can just type in "Adam Gopnik" whenever I like and everything he has written for them will be right there before my happy eyes. Same goes for "David Sedaris" and "John Updike." It'll all be there for me. At $100, it's a bargain.

bez moma

Way Cool!

Several years ago, my father's band played a gig pretty far from home. Lake Tansi, you ask? Nope. Farther, but they have played there. Eufaula, Alabama, you inquire? Wrong again, but they have played there, too. The answer is the United States Embassy in China. Not a bad gig at all. Too bad his son/lightman/roadie wasn't invited, but that's beside the point.

I told you that, to tell you this. Daredevil skateboarder Danny Way successfully jumped the Great Wall of China this weekend. How cool is that? There was a great photo in the New York Times with a Communist guard standing his post in the foreground and young, free, American Danny soaring high in the air in the background. Awesome!

Now could this have happened now, had my pop not been there many years earlier playing Louie, Louie and Woolie Bullie, paving the way? Maybe, but I have my doubts.

The Weatherman In My House

And so it is that we are potty training the two year old. My wife thinks that this is great because we get to watch our little guy while he baby-steps toward big boy mode. I think that this is great because there is bound to be blogging material in great wealth.

Example #1. From The Mouths Of Babes:
The other day, he comes running to me yelling "potty, potty!" This is my cue to lead him into the bathroom so he can fulfill his obligations. The poor guy hadn't held it in time and now it's running down his leg as we make our way through the rooms to our final destination. He looks down at his leg, points to it, and says to me, "Uh-oh. It's raining!" Yes, I guess it is. Beat that, Dooce!

More "For Kate's Sake"

In today's Tennessean, there is a story about my friend's nieces. To learn more about Neimann-Pick disease, please visit ForKatesSake.

Thank you.

Piloerection (n) - hair standing on end

Cylindrical, keratinized, often pigmented filaments characteristically growing from the epidermis of a mammal, a.k.a. Arianna's hair

My daughter's hair will not lay down. Ever. From her first few days of exploring this big world, that little certain area of her hair has been sticking straight up. Even after a bath, clean and wet and laying flat upon her sweet head, at the first breath of dryness, those well-postured strands rise again. She's such a cutie.

You Won't Believe Your Toes!

I have joked with my wife about doing this for some time now. But I didn't know that a company really existed to do it. We have a backyard that just refuses to grow grass. Apparently, our lot is built on a big rock surface.

"Astroturf is what we need honey. Think about it. No mowing, no maintaining. And always a perfect shade of green," I say.

She just laughs and rolls her eyes, in the way that women who marry Béziats are known to do. And now I find this! And Paige is open to it. Now if she'll just let me paint football field lines on it. And I think she just might.

Can Self-heating Chunky Beef Soup Be Far Behind?

While on vacation, I learn from a favorite blogger that self-heating lattes are now available at Kroger. It goes without saying that there are far more important things going on in the world to think about. But, come on! Self-heating lattes is a way cool idea. Just take off the protective lid, turn it upside down, push a button, and in approx. 8 minutes, you've got some rich, hot goodness at your side. I'm getting some tomorrow!

These Beziats Are Home

Biloxi is now miles away again. The trip was fun, but it's quite nice to be back in Nashville/M'boro. Biloxi was nice and my pictures don't do it justice. I was good at getting shots of the people I love, but lousy at finding pictures of the city and its interesting surroundings. Oh well, that's what Google Image Search is for.

The casinos were fun, but I can't quit my job just yet. The beach was nice, but having my aversion to jellyfish (maybe that's a blog entry for another time), I spent little time getting more than my feet and ankles wet. I mainly hung out at the apartment pool, walked the beachside, and watched MTV in my mother-in-law's home. (I could criticize some MTV programming - "Date My Mom"? - but I have to realize that I am 35 years old and therefore MTV does not recognize my existence anyway.)

That said, I did watch much of the Live8 concert and was wowed at how cool that was. I flipped between that and Williams/Davenport at Wimbledon. Oh my God, what a great match that was. For the ages, maybe? Time will tell. Not rooting for either player and admiring both, I was transfixed by level of excellence this Wimbledon achieved.

But back to the vacation, we had some great laughs and loved our visit. It's good to be back home though. I missed, among other things:

• coffee at Provence
• my neighbors on Cornelius Dr.
• Nashville Public Library Main Branch
• the Waffle House where everyone knows me
• the workplace (sad, but true)
• spending way too much time on the internet

My wife, God love her, drove the entire trip. To and from. But I am much like my dad and drive much too slow for the average American, so it's entirely her choice to do the driving. For my part, I read to her from my new favorite writer Chuck Klosterman's book, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. As I stated in an email to my taller (but still younger) bro, Paige and I laughed way too much for an old married couple. I love her, indeed.

Vacation over. Back to work.

Paige in Biloxi

Paige

Castaway Mike

Mike in Biloxi

Paige

Castaway Paige

Paige

Biloxi Beziat Boys

Mike in Biloxi