Saturday, December 16, 2006
December 18 Is Upon Me
In two short days, it will be December 18, 2006. I will turn 37 years old. It's my suspicion that I will celebrate it exactly the way I did last year when I turned 36. Here's what I wrote approximately 363 days ago:
This time, it appears that I will work my shift, clock out, and go to the Waffle House. Then I will drive home, listen to some music and read blogs. I'll probably drink a couple of beers and then I will go to sleep. Just call me Mr. Predictable.
It's my birthday today.
I just thought my reader(s) should know.
I celebrated like any good thirty-six year old should. I worked my shift, clocked out, and went to Waffle House where the good waitresses comped my meal. And then I came home and listened to Tom Waits, checked some blogs, drank some beers, and went to sleep.
Note to self: party a little more next time.
This time, it appears that I will work my shift, clock out, and go to the Waffle House. Then I will drive home, listen to some music and read blogs. I'll probably drink a couple of beers and then I will go to sleep. Just call me Mr. Predictable.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
The 2007 Spirit Awards Nominees
What makes me giddy? The Spirit Awards! The Spirit Awards! It will air on IFC on February 24, 2007 and the nominees are...here.
The host will once again be Sarah Silverman and again - unlike the Academy Awards - it will probably be held in a hotel ballroom or underneath a tent somewhere. It ain't about the fashion and spectacle as much as it is about the art involved.
Here's hoping four time host John Waters at least makes an appearance. Nothing against Sarah Silverman, who is terrificly crude and hilarious, but Waters pretty much embodies all things independent film.
Is it February 24 yet?
The host will once again be Sarah Silverman and again - unlike the Academy Awards - it will probably be held in a hotel ballroom or underneath a tent somewhere. It ain't about the fashion and spectacle as much as it is about the art involved.
Here's hoping four time host John Waters at least makes an appearance. Nothing against Sarah Silverman, who is terrificly crude and hilarious, but Waters pretty much embodies all things independent film.
Is it February 24 yet?
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Scream. It's Your Birthday.
Here's the image from Google's homepage today. Edward Munch was born today in 1863. Here's a brief bio.
"...like a punk Pippi Longstocking."
"Sure, they called her Kurt Cobain's Yoko. And she certainly got into a lot of fights. But Love had a messy charisma and a style - those ripped babydoll dresses and smeared makeup - that felt like a satire of sexiness. Her 1994 album Live Through This was the first rock I'd heard that really focused on women, with lyrics about breast-feeding and rape and competition, but done with humour and an aggression rare among female performers."
...more>>
...more>>
Just Wait Till Your Progenitor Comes Home
Lori Borgman of the Indy Star wrote a story on how Spain is now using "progenitor" on birth certificates to refer to the parents. "Mother" is now "Progenitor A" and "Father" is now "Progenitor B."
Monday, December 11, 2006
Monday Morning Bits and Pieces
Saturday: 3 miles on the treadmill followed by 5 minutes of heavy lifting followed by a 9 hour work shift.
Sunday: 4 miles on the treadmill followed by 5 minutes of heavy lifting followed by a 9 hour work shift.
Monday: Ow. Ow. Ow. Lactic acid buildup like hell. Hurts to move. Think I'll skip workout and get back to it Tuesday.
Via the blogs, I see that the fair Mellissa of Atlanta is having happy and beautiful travels in little ol' Geneva.
The sexiest of sites for readers like me has a wonderful interview with the always captivating Laura Dern. (Working yet again with David Lynch, the experimental director who always used to frustrate the hell out of me until I figured out the correct way to approach his work.)
I agree wholeheartedly with Jeffraham. And I also love that he rides a Vespa. Most of my driving is within a 5 mile range and rarely use the interstate anyway. Getting up to 90 mpg is something I could easily get used to.
Airline captains travel with beautiful women, even if only for Halloween costumes. (I sent in my resume months ago. Call me.)
Finally, parallel parking for guys like me (who suck at it).
At the recommendation of my friend Leesa, I am watching Dream for an Insomniac. If these first three minutes are any indication, this is going to be a beautiful ride.
That's all for me. Be sure to tip your waitress.
Sunday: 4 miles on the treadmill followed by 5 minutes of heavy lifting followed by a 9 hour work shift.
Monday: Ow. Ow. Ow. Lactic acid buildup like hell. Hurts to move. Think I'll skip workout and get back to it Tuesday.
Via the blogs, I see that the fair Mellissa of Atlanta is having happy and beautiful travels in little ol' Geneva.
The sexiest of sites for readers like me has a wonderful interview with the always captivating Laura Dern. (Working yet again with David Lynch, the experimental director who always used to frustrate the hell out of me until I figured out the correct way to approach his work.)
I agree wholeheartedly with Jeffraham. And I also love that he rides a Vespa. Most of my driving is within a 5 mile range and rarely use the interstate anyway. Getting up to 90 mpg is something I could easily get used to.
Airline captains travel with beautiful women, even if only for Halloween costumes. (I sent in my resume months ago. Call me.)
Finally, parallel parking for guys like me (who suck at it).
At the recommendation of my friend Leesa, I am watching Dream for an Insomniac. If these first three minutes are any indication, this is going to be a beautiful ride.
That's all for me. Be sure to tip your waitress.
Why I Listen
Sixteen and a half minutes into "Symphony No. 3: I. Lento - Sostenuto Tranquillo Ma Cantabile" by Henrik Gorkecki and it remains one of the most powerful moments in music ever.
December and Very Blue
My friend posted some excellent pictures of Nashville on his blog today and one of them reminded me of this one. Same background, except this one features this blogger's mug.
Every year, every December, I get like this. Blame it on the gray skies, blame it on relative poverty amidst consumer mania, but I just get lonely although surrounded by love and feel poor despite a refrigerator filled with food. Although enlightened do-gooders remind us that "Christmas is not your birthday," we can still feel enormous pressure to buy nice things for the people we love.
Tonight, I changed out of my work uniform in the locker room and I gave myself a minute to reflect on the road I've been paving for myself. It's my own personal Route 66, rich with history and mostly content to be the path less traveled, but all the while studying the faster and more modern highway and feeling a touch of envy. Not enough envy to change my style though. With my pace comes the most beautiful appreciation of the softer and more quiet amenities of life.
Peaceful solitude with Nice Drake's Pink Moon playing through these laptop speakers is my current state of grace. Some customers treated me poorly this evening. But I think that at this minute they might be looking for reasons to be angry at life and I'm relaxing at home and enjoying the art of beautiful music and looking for reasons to be happy. I'm finding those reasons with ease. I'm finding them in coworkers who really do value me as their friend. I'm finding them in the customers who are not like the aforementioned customers. And I'm most easily finding them in my family, the ones who are crazy about me day in and day out. Born into one loving family and married into another, I've done quite well for myself.
But December still does its thing. It's changing my age in a week. Who knows? Maybe I'm just getting started.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Pissy Little Cuss
The good news is that I ran three miles today.
The bad news is that I've been a pissy little cuss since daybreak.
This is 20-something year old Mike looking at 30-something year old Mike and wondering what the hell happened. This gut is unacceptable. The 32 inch waist gave way to the 34 inch waist a good while back and I've been at peace with that. But now the 34 inch waist jeans are getting harder and harder to fasten and there is no mystery as to why.
And so today, I went into work early so that I could use the hotel health club (nice perk). I ran on that treadmill for a good 55 minutes with a television hanging in my face. What was on? Rocky III. It seems someone knew I needed some motivation today. (I don't want to give anything away but Mr. T sure took a beating at the end of the movie.) I watched the film with the sound off and the closed captioning on (hilariously wrong very often) and with my iPod playing Himmelman and Tom Waits. If you think it's ridiculous to work out to the sounds of Tom Waits, I offer you "Filipino Box Spring Hog" from Mule Variations. It was perfect for a good hard steady rhythm. And the guttural barks and howls fit my mood to a T.
With the movie over and the workout completed, I showered and changed and took to my shift at the house of Punch The Clock. I should preface to say that it actually was a good day. My wages were good and, financially, it was the kind of day that most folks absent a college degree don't often see. I worked steadily and was well rewarded for my efforts. But it was also a day of many tedious and annoying little failures. There are many details I won't go into because I'd hate to get fired for blogging about work, but I can say that I related to cousin Larry of Perfect Strangers. (In fact, now that I think of it, I think that Larry's life closely mirrors that of my own.)
Remember in Perfect Strangers, that one recurring gag was that whenever Larry would come home from work, he would toss hiss jacket cooly across the room to his coat rack? And remember that his coat would always just miss said rack and fall to the floor? The humor wasn't just that he missed. The humor was in his face afterward. It was the face of defeat expected. (Thank God that the defeated have such an ability to see the humor in their situations.)
Today, my gag was that everytime I would approach the elevator with a cart full of luggage, it would always be surprisingly already at the first floor as if waiting for me. Then, my good luck too good to be true, it would begin its ascent away from me just as my thumb would press the button for the doors to open. And I would stand there with my cart - time being of the essence with my work - watching the elevator rise away from me and almost laughing at me as I remained motionless. My eyes are on the numbers above the elevator door and the camera crew for Perfect Strangers catches my face of accepted - and expected - defeat. (Cue the laughtrack.) It's not that it happened. It's that it happened time and time again.
I received two gifts today and I'm confused as to how I should/do feel.
Maybe I'll wake up in a better mood tomorrow. I'll bet my loving family hopes so, too. They put up with me and I am forever humbled.
[Edit to add: I lost my internet connection mere seconds after I hit "publish." Oh, how pissed I would have been had I lost all of those rambling words from above. Small favors.]
[Update: I should mention that I don't feel that a $50 gift card is cheap at all. I am quite happy to receive it. It just seems that within a workplace like mine where people are always talking with friends in other departments, that it isn't the smartest decision to give varying values of gifts to everyone. Everyone loves a gift until it's revealed that someone else got a nicer one. And in more recent news, I found out that while my card was half the value of some, it was also twice the value of others. If we all got the same amount, we wouldn't have reason for envy.]
The bad news is that I've been a pissy little cuss since daybreak.
This is 20-something year old Mike looking at 30-something year old Mike and wondering what the hell happened. This gut is unacceptable. The 32 inch waist gave way to the 34 inch waist a good while back and I've been at peace with that. But now the 34 inch waist jeans are getting harder and harder to fasten and there is no mystery as to why.
And so today, I went into work early so that I could use the hotel health club (nice perk). I ran on that treadmill for a good 55 minutes with a television hanging in my face. What was on? Rocky III. It seems someone knew I needed some motivation today. (I don't want to give anything away but Mr. T sure took a beating at the end of the movie.) I watched the film with the sound off and the closed captioning on (hilariously wrong very often) and with my iPod playing Himmelman and Tom Waits. If you think it's ridiculous to work out to the sounds of Tom Waits, I offer you "Filipino Box Spring Hog" from Mule Variations. It was perfect for a good hard steady rhythm. And the guttural barks and howls fit my mood to a T.
With the movie over and the workout completed, I showered and changed and took to my shift at the house of Punch The Clock. I should preface to say that it actually was a good day. My wages were good and, financially, it was the kind of day that most folks absent a college degree don't often see. I worked steadily and was well rewarded for my efforts. But it was also a day of many tedious and annoying little failures. There are many details I won't go into because I'd hate to get fired for blogging about work, but I can say that I related to cousin Larry of Perfect Strangers. (In fact, now that I think of it, I think that Larry's life closely mirrors that of my own.)
Remember in Perfect Strangers, that one recurring gag was that whenever Larry would come home from work, he would toss hiss jacket cooly across the room to his coat rack? And remember that his coat would always just miss said rack and fall to the floor? The humor wasn't just that he missed. The humor was in his face afterward. It was the face of defeat expected. (Thank God that the defeated have such an ability to see the humor in their situations.)
Today, my gag was that everytime I would approach the elevator with a cart full of luggage, it would always be surprisingly already at the first floor as if waiting for me. Then, my good luck too good to be true, it would begin its ascent away from me just as my thumb would press the button for the doors to open. And I would stand there with my cart - time being of the essence with my work - watching the elevator rise away from me and almost laughing at me as I remained motionless. My eyes are on the numbers above the elevator door and the camera crew for Perfect Strangers catches my face of accepted - and expected - defeat. (Cue the laughtrack.) It's not that it happened. It's that it happened time and time again.
I received two gifts today and I'm confused as to how I should/do feel.
- One birthday card from the workplace. I'm a sucker for small things and was happy to open it and play my favorite game of Guess That Executive Committee Member's Signature. But I was thrown for a loop when I saw that I was the recipient of two free employee meals. (That's a total value of $6.50 for those who don't work with me.) Gift horse lesson aside, it all of a sudden seemed kind of cheap to me. But keep in mind that I liked it before I knew that I even received any gift at all. I think I'm just being bitter and unfair, but I'm not sure.
- One Christmas card from the workplace. In it was a very well received gift card to a local mall for the sum of $50. No skepticism there. That's a good and well needed card. But then I found out that most of the employees in other departments got cards for twice the value. Now, I'm pissed where I was earlier elated. Sure, other departments might hold higher value to the company and require higher training and such, but I've also been here for over a decade and got my $50 where some new hires in other departments are opening $100 gift cards just because they don't push a bellcart or drive a shuttle for a living.
Maybe I'll wake up in a better mood tomorrow. I'll bet my loving family hopes so, too. They put up with me and I am forever humbled.
[Edit to add: I lost my internet connection mere seconds after I hit "publish." Oh, how pissed I would have been had I lost all of those rambling words from above. Small favors.]
[Update: I should mention that I don't feel that a $50 gift card is cheap at all. I am quite happy to receive it. It just seems that within a workplace like mine where people are always talking with friends in other departments, that it isn't the smartest decision to give varying values of gifts to everyone. Everyone loves a gift until it's revealed that someone else got a nicer one. And in more recent news, I found out that while my card was half the value of some, it was also twice the value of others. If we all got the same amount, we wouldn't have reason for envy.]
Thursday, December 07, 2006
With Some Song Lyrics Come Goosebumps
The best concert I ever attended was by Peter Himmelman. This memory includes the fantastic show put on by birthday boy Tom Waits at the Ryman earlier this year. Right this minute, I am finding auditory bliss in Himmelman's Skin CD from 1994.
Nothing gets my head right like this guy's music.
Peter Himmelman official website
Peter Himmelman's myspace page
He has stayed busy in recent years composing for television shows including Judging Amy, Men In Trees, and Bones. Dig around his official website to see and hear beauty in song.
From "Been Set Free":
I often wonder
Does it matter
Or is this all a worthless joke
Are we just atoms
Conceived in silence
Awaiting our turn to fly like smoke
I'd do anything to lay beside you
I'd bring you all the things that I denied you
I'd say the words I
Seldom spoke
I have believed in money
But all I got was greed
I have believed in vengeance
But all I did was bleed
I have believed in fame
But fame turned its back on me
If I had only believed in love
If I had only believed in love
If I had only believed in love
I could have been set free
Nothing gets my head right like this guy's music.
Peter Himmelman official website
Peter Himmelman's myspace page
He has stayed busy in recent years composing for television shows including Judging Amy, Men In Trees, and Bones. Dig around his official website to see and hear beauty in song.
From "Been Set Free":
I often wonder
Does it matter
Or is this all a worthless joke
Are we just atoms
Conceived in silence
Awaiting our turn to fly like smoke
I'd do anything to lay beside you
I'd bring you all the things that I denied you
I'd say the words I
Seldom spoke
I have believed in money
But all I got was greed
I have believed in vengeance
But all I did was bleed
I have believed in fame
But fame turned its back on me
If I had only believed in love
If I had only believed in love
If I had only believed in love
I could have been set free
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