Clip of the week...

I don't know why I keep posting cat-related stuff. I don't even own a cat. But this guy's work is hilarious:



You should go see his other work.

Better than I could have asked...

So of course, I mentioned my reticence regarding the party. Reading back over it, I was much more worried about the flow of it all than I let on. One of my personal philosophies is "Hope for the best; be prepared for the worst." That way, you can adapt, you can adjust, and you can avoid the massive disappointment that comes from things Not Going Your Way. Which is tough for a semi-control freak like me.

But I have to say: Wow. What a great gathering. From about 6:45 until about 1:30, there was a constant buzz of conversation in the house. People were laughing, drinking, eating, talking...such wonderful energy. Theater folks talked with work folks, people from different theaters talked with one another, significant others talked with people they had never met before. It was everything you might want in a gathering like that. One crowd (the one that included my folks) left just as the late arrivals came. Another crowd left just as the post-theater crowd came (Rabbit Hole and True West both have friends of mine in them). It was like a super long game of some sort, and substitutions were coming in from the bench all night.

The evening closed with the last half dozen guests and I playing a game of Loaded Questions, one of my favorite boardgames of all time. Finally got to bed around 2am. What a wonderful night.

The house is already lukewarm, but nonetheless...

Tonight I am throwing a party at my "new" house. Evite made me pick a category, and the closest was "housewarming", but it is also a celebration of theater (the end of a fun run of The Wizard of Oz, and what will hopefully be a fun run of The Music Man), a welcome-to-the-family for my new(ish) dog, and a chance to get together with old friends. I have invited people from all walks of my life: former Starbucks folks from my time with that company, and my boss from the place I work at now; theater folks from Sonoma and Marin counties; old friends and family. In all, the evite list totalled in the nineties--I know some of those people will not show, it is more an excuse to get back in touch with them. But of that massive list, I already have over 30 positives. It should be an eclectic collection of people. That can either work really well (if they are networkers) or not so well (if they are not). For my fortieth birthday party, I threw a shindig at Ives park and cooked on the barbecue. A bunch of theater folk came to that, as well as some Starbucks folk, but they did not blend well--like oil and water, in fact. One group over here, one group over there, like an eighth grade dance. I am hoping against hope that this time they will actually mix together and it will be a fun event.

I have been busy all day preparing for this gathering, and folks will start arriving soon. Had to clean the place inside and out (not easy when you're just one guy in a 3BR home), and get "stuff" ready: food, drinks, set up conversation nooks and a bar, etc. Also bought a new little device I am eager to try out: it's a little mixer that makes everything from "blended" drinks to ice cream. It is not, however a blender--it has this huge frozen bucket-like part that you freeze, and then pour everything into it. It is so cold it freezes the stuff inside. Less mess, more variety...why not? And, the best part: it was on sale. (Look how much money I saved us, honey!)

Party starts at 6:00pm and goes until everyone leaves or we get shut down. Come by!

Go see this. Now...

...are you still here? Because WALL-E may just be the best movie I have seen in a decade. It was heartwarming, but not in a sappy way. It was visually stunning, but not in a cartoony or over-CG way (I have issues with studios that don't dirty up their images a little to make it look less digital). It addressed meaningful issues without bludgeoning you over the head with them. (Remember Fern Gully? ::shudder::) It made you think, made you happy, made you sit on the edge of your seat.

And, to tell you the truth, I didn't even realize it until I read some "professional" critic's preview later tonight, but there are no spoken words for the first twenty minutes. That, ladies and gentlemen, is storytelling. If you can keep an audience's attention riveted using just visual means for that long without them even knowing it...well, my hat is off all the way to the folks over at Pixar.

It is scary to me to think what the movies will be like in the next decade, once the giant thumb of Disney makes its presence felt more, but perhaps they will leave well enough alone and we will continue to get gems like this one out of the big P and not regurgitated swill like Pocahontas. But this digression is for another time, place and blog.

I don't like to recommend movies much, because I think getting someone's hopes up is a surefire way to doom their movie watching experience. But this one is a must-see.

New projects for old! New projects...

Last fall, Skate and I decided that we should start a theater company. Wipe that smirk off your face and know that we were shoved into it headfirst by Fate, or else neither of us would have ever stopped laughing long enough to actually try it. We were talking about the things we would love to do or see done theater-wise, and someone (I forget which of us--there was beer involved) said, 'we should just start our own theater company'. To which both of us laughed out loud.

See, for those of you who aren't in that crazy little industry, this is an incredibly common occurrence. It shakes out like this: some actors, fed up with their current group of folks because of artistic stagnation or personality conflict, decide They Can Do Better, and they start their own company. Things are usually fine for about a year, then they can either go one of two paths: they crash because of personality conflict or mismanagement, or they succeed and move up to the next tier in the food chain.

We figured, with her pending Master's degree in Arts Management and my experience managing teams, that we might be able to avoid that death knell. Her desire to do something worthwhile and inspiring, and my overactive manic-depressive imagination both seemed to lend themselves to the artistic side of the endeavor. And the stuff we wanted to do didn't fit with any of the local theater companies, so we didn't think ourselves too proud and conflictatory (new word for you there, W) in our dream, either.

We pulled the trigger, and here we are. Last night found us meeting with a group of actors from the area to discuss a crazy new project we are spearheading for the fall. I will keep you updated, but let me just say it was a great meeting, very insightful, very exciting, and I have the Utmost Confidence in the Mission. Stay tuned...

Ummm--WHAT?!? I...uh...

I spoke with my mom yesterday. I was trying to arrange a time when she could give me a ride from home to work so I could get the truck back to my local shop, and she said, 'your father and I would like to talk to you about the truck.' Now, I am an adult and have been out of their house for a long time, but that phrase still made me edgy. I'm thinking to myself, 'geez, I've been working like a Roman orchard slave on that thing, and they're going to criticize how I take care of it?'

So I carefully (and disguised my reflexive defensiveness)(ew, is that even a phrase?) answered 'what exactly do you want to talk about?' She mentioned that they were concerned that I was driving this thing around, it was an old truck, they wanted me to be safe, they didn't think I should dump any more money into it, etc. I have little in the way of finances--they know this. So I said (again, measuredly), 'what are you saying? are you talking about a new vehicle?'

Yes. They want to talk to me about getting something else. I go over there tonight to have dinner, and put Thing 1 and Thing 2 in the back/play room, and they basically give me a budget and tell me they are moving money around to help me out. I was stunned. My parents have been there for me in times of need, but they are not hand-out parents. We talked about possible makes & models (I had been researching a while ago just for kicks) and they basically said, 'get what you need. we aren't going to support something ridiculous.' I reminded them of what I have been driving for ten years, and they smiled and seemed to take comfort from it.

I still can't find the words. I am so grateful.

"I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that..."

So, in my last post about the ol' truck--do you know the ol' truck? Perhaps a brief introduction is necessary to get the whole story contextualized. Most of you are already acquainted with my ride, but for posterity's sake, and for the couple of you that might not know the Blue Meanie, I feel I should explain. It's a long digression, but the truck means a lot to me, and you should know its history:

When I moved back to northern California in '98, I needed a vehicle--it is impractical to have a car in NYC, so I sold my car when I moved there. I needed something quickly, and happened to mention it to Blender. He had his grandpa's old '86 Ford Ranger, and had just put money in it to fix the A/C. It wasn't a lot to look at, but it was in good running condition and he was offering it to me for very little money.

I have now had it nearly ten years. In that time, the other family vehicle has been:

+ a Chevy S-10 Blazer (had to buy a new engine, and it had a host of other problems, so we got rid of it)
+ a Buick something big (we used to call it the SS Cotati) that had recurring transmission problems
+ a late model Dodge minivan that I emptied my IRA to replace the engine in last summer

The Ranger, on the other hand, has required only minor work in that time--it's only failing grace has been its paint job (it has that mid-80's baby blue that flakes and rusts). It has helped me move three times, and others move countless times. It has been a constant and reliable friend for my entire second life in California. I have cared for it, many times by hand, and have gotten it 1100 miles short of 300K on the original engine.

Anyhoo, I mentioned in Sunday's post that I had done a bunch of work on it, and was going to let the TFI module fail ala 2001. (For those of you who aren't familiar with the reference, the HAL9000 computer in the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey claims there is a failure in the AE-35 unit that keeps the ship in contact with Earth. The astronauts go EVA to remove and test it, but can find nothing wrong with it. The "solution" they come up with is to "replace the unit and let it fail" and then replace it with the redundant unit.)

Things played out for me pretty much as they did for the guys in the movie. I tried to start it yesterday, and it wouldn't start. So, I tinkered around and got the new unit in. I was awash with doubt right when I sat down to turn the key. I had been so confident that the TFI was the problem--what if...? Sure enough, I turned the key, and nothing.

Now I am going to have to figure out a way to get it to the shop so they can tell me nothing is wrong with it until the afternoon again. Argh.

Clip of the week...

Yes.

Art and technology...

So, today I spent three hours working on the truck. I checked all the fluids, changed the air filter, fixed the headlamp, all that sort of stuff. I purchased my own TFI--the aforementioned ignition module that I am certain is the cause of my won't-start-in-the-heat woes--as well as a special tool to swap it out, and some silicon gel to affix it to its home on the distributor. But I decided to just wait and see if something else might have been the problem (the oil was pretty low--I have a leak, and didn't realize it was getting so low). It started just fine at noon. Of course, it wasn't as hot today, either, so I figured I would just keep the TFI with the vehicle, and let the old one fail. When next it refuses to start, I'll swap it then. It will be much easier with the little tool.

Had some miscommunication with the ex about where the kids were getting transferred--she thought she was picking them up, I was at her house waiting for her to get them--and was late to see Rabbit Hole over at The Rep. What a fantastic show. I was called back for the male role in it, so I was familiar with the story, and it was a good thing. It was an excellent story, and very well told and acted, but it was hard subject matter. A married couple is toughing through things after losing their four year old son in an auto accident. But et. al. did a fine job, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Didn't get to hang out afterward, because I needed to check on the Things, but it was good work.

Had rehearsal in the evening, went home and collapsed. Thoroughly tired from a full day.

Seriously, you need to go here...

So, I wanted to do something fun today since we didn't get to go camping (see truck woes here). I thought that weather-wise it would be a fantastic day to go to the city and play, and the kids haven't been to the Metreon in forever, so I got on the net and looked it up. They have a Sony playstation store there, an IMAX theater, a video arcade, a great noodle shop, and the top floor is devoted to an experiential learning exhibit of something (they had a Maurice Sendak exhibit there when Thing 1 was little; a year back they had one on the Titanic--both were great).

Whilst trying to find what the current exhibit there was, I stumbled on the Zeum website. The Zeum is only one block away, and I had heard about it, but never been. There is an amazing carousel next door, and the ice arena on the other side of the park, so I figured between the Metreon and those two attractions, we would still have plenty to keep us interested even if the Zeum was a bust. But the added bonus was that they were offering a weekend workshop (free with price of admission) on drawing your own comic books. Both my kids are into that stuff, so I thought 'why not'?

It was amazing. The workshop was sort of a bust--not very much guidance, just some artist wandering around and commenting on our own improv, and not helping or directing us at all. But the place itself is INCREDIBLE. There are four main areas there: an animators' studio where you can create your own claymation character and film it, a music production lab where you can karaoke and make your own music video, a digital workshop where you can make computer art, and a "main gallery" with various and sundry hands-on creativity stations. Think Exploratorium for the right brain.

Anyhow, we spent the entire time (when we weren't at the comics workshop) in the claymation studio. In addition to making your own character, there are four "studios"--sets that you can change the background on, and film your character doing stuff. Here's one of Thing 2's movies:



They were getting ready to close, and Helene and I were taking too long artfully crafting our characters, so we made one together (hers is the cat--mine is the dinosaur/horse-looking thing):



I got a family season pass there, so we will be going back. I may even go myself once or twice in the next year--incredibly fulfilling art therapy. And after this week, I needed it.

She canna run, Cap'n...

So, I dropped off my truck late last night, and left a long, detailed message on the shop's answering machine. I told them I had this exact same problem fixed by them not long ago, and left specific symptoms of the problem, including the fact that it would run fine while it was cold out, but not during the heat of the day. I asked them to call when they got in if they had any questions. The previous day the woman at the desk mentioned that the head mechanic was taking off for the weekend, so they only had until about noon to get it fixed. I mentioned in that message that I thought it would be a quick fix, that I needed the truck, and could they please call me and let me know if it was still do-able.

They opened at 8:30, and I did not hear from them, so I called at 9 to see what was up. They hadn't gotten the message (apparently Woman At Desk didn't check them yet), but she said the mechanic remembered the truck and the problem from before, and they would work on it and let me know. She said they could probably still have it for me that day. I spent some time working remotely, and spent some time with my kids. The kids were very understanding about the whole thing, and even though they were disappointed, we had a great morning sharing a meal, working (they picked up their rooms while I worked) and playing Quorridor and Gobblet.

I still hadn't heard from them by 11, and started to worry, so I called again. I spoke again with WAD, who said they had been running the engine for two hours and were not seeing what I described. I nearly screamed, I was so mad. I tried to reign in the anger, and spoke very succinctly that I had described a problem which only occurred in the heat of day, not in the morning when it was cooler, and therefore they would *not* see it by running it. She said they could not fix what they didn't see, and I asked (trying not to lose my temper, and I think I mostly succeeded) if they didn't have a simple diagnostic they could run to test the ignition module. She said they could only fix it if they saw it fail. Which in my mind means, 'drive it until you are stranded somewhere, and then pay $100 to have it towed here, and we will test it in the morning and call you again to tell you we can't figure out what's wrong with it.' Argh. I asked them if they could give me a ride from my house to the shop so I could pick it up and at least have it for the weekend to grocery shop (early in the morning) and so forth, but they couldn't spare anyone.

They called again--after 12 noon--to say that they were seeing what I was describing. I asked if they were going to have time to run some tests and actually get it fixed, and they of course responded with what I already knew--the mechanic was leaving for the day, and they weren't going to be able to fix it. My plans for camping now ruined, I was trying just to get the vehicle back to my house. The ex was kind enough to loan me the van for a few days so I could at least get around. Late tonight Helene is going to give me a ride to go get the truck and bring it home. Argh again.

NOT a banner day...

So, I get to work today, do my thing for a while, and get ready to go. I was supposed to leave around 12:30 to get Thing 2 and we were going to go shopping and pack for an overnight camping trip this weekend. Nothing high-impact, mind you--just the three Yen boys on some overnight, out-of-doors adventure. Fun, right? Especially since we haven't done it in so very long. First thing to go wrong: I won't be able to get Thing 2 until 2:30, right smack dab in the middle of the time I was going to go shopping and get the camping equipment out and prepped. But, no big deal, right? Adapt, Adjust, Overcome, right?

Well, I come out of the office, get in the truck, insert the key, tap the gas, and attempt to start the vehicle. The engine whirrs and almost catches, but will not turn over. I sigh. I had made an appointment to get it looked at for this afternoon, because it wouldn't turn over the night before. (I stopped at a SBUX on the way to rehearsal, turned it off in the drivethru, and ended up pushing it out. But it started again after sitting for five minutes.) I try again, and now it is just whirring. There is clearly charge coming from the battery, it just won't start. I wait. I try again. Rinse and repeat. No start.

I call Blender, who is an expert mechanic (he has been restoring a '67 Mustang for almost as long as I've known him, and was the one who sold me the truck, so he knows its inner workings). We talk about the problem behavior, and he initially says fuel system, but when we discuss how it works fine when it's cold, we both start talking about the ignition module. It has been weak before--it is a bad engineering design for this particular part and this particular generation of Ford--and we think it is surely the problem. A quick fix--a pain in the ass, since it is on the bottom of the distributor, between the firewall and the engine with a 3" clearance, but still....

I go back and forth between the office and the parking lot, and it still won't go, and now it's getting late. I call the ex's beau, who is dropping Thing 2 off at my place, and he is running late, but I figure I have to get down to my house, so I ask the folks for a ride. Mom takes me home, I get Thing 2, and we head back up for the truck. Thing 1 was at a friend's birthday party at Great America, so we stopped to eat dinner together. We got back to the truck at 7:00, and it started right up. So much for getting ready for camping. The day is shot, and now I have to spend at least the morning trying to get the truck fixed. Boo. We'll see what the folks at my favorite shop say.

Mr......Freeman? You dropped your...

I went for a walk with a friend, and saw this lying on the ground:



I looked over my shoulder immediately for Combine soldiers.

All abooaarrt! River City next stop...

Last night was the initial read-thru for Sixth Street Playhouse's production of The Music Man, starring yours truly as Prof. Harold Hill. It was a blast. The show is great, it is one of the top five on my want-to-do list, and the music is wonderful. But perhaps the best part was the reunion with many actors I have not worked with in years.

It was almost a joy overload--the guy who directed me in Forum and Charity will be one of the quartet, as well as a guy I was in The Mikado with. Speaking of Charity, the actress who was Charity in that production is working in this show. The actor who played Erronius in Forum is Charlie (the anvil salesman). Several women I haven't seen in years will be the pick-a-little ladies. I haven't worked with this director, choreographer, stage manager, or asst. stage manager in years, either.

In addition, there are several faces new to me that I have heard plenty about. And some that are familiar but I have not worked with in the past. It is an exciting project. Once the kids get added in, it is going to be utter chaos, but what a fun show this looks to be. Come see it--it goes up in mid August and runs through mid September.

Clip of the week...

Okay, there are actually two this week. I got a comment from a reader last week who liked the Star Trek kittens, but wanted to know if I had seen this:



I hadn't. The best part is the cat on the floor's reaction to the whole thing. It is at the very end. Its expression is priceless. Also, and just to assure you that I watch something besides cats all day, I stumbled over this whilst looking for that:

Fathers' Day...

I was going to post my yearly blog about how much I hate this day, and all it doesn't stand for, and then Thing 1 gave me this original poem:

~~~~~~~~

To an old guy I know.
Happy Father's Day Dad!
You help me be happy when I am sad.
You help cool me down when I've gotten mad.
All the things you've done for me make me glad.
You're the best! From a kid.
Happy Father's day Dad.

~~~~~~~~

I'm going to go cry now.

What a wonderful weekend this will be...

So, today I am going to the Northern California Pirate Festival in Vallejo. It is similar to a Ren Faire, and a lot of the same folks I know from there will be at the Pirate Fest--including the group I perform with at Dickens Faire in December. (They are called the Green Man Inn at Ren Faire; The Green Man Publick House at Dickens.) Should be an absolute blast. I was up late last night with the boys putting together our last-minute costumes, and we will be going with Helene for a few hours today. It is so much fun having the Green Man folks there--gives one a home-base of sorts.

Then, tonight I am seeing Nine Parts of Desire at the Sixth Street Playhouse studio space. Helene is performing a one-woman show about nine Iraqi women and their stories during the Saddam/US era. It is intense and amazing--I saw it opening night, and am eager to see how it has grown over the course of the run.

Tomorrow is the closing of The Wizard of Oz at the Mountain Play. I am frequently asked as I get closer to the end of a run if it is a 'bittersweet' moment for me. This one is just plain surreal. It has been such a wonderful, unique, special experience, that it is hard to find any words to describe it. The commute is brutal, certes--I will not miss that. But even that has its moments--coming out of the clouds in the forest near Muir Woods on an overcast day and seeing the entire bay area spread out before you as if someone had pulled a comforter over it is an amazing thing.

It is a magical show, on par with A Christmas Carol for its universal appeal. It is at its heart a story about finding contentment--and finding it in what you already have, not somewhere greener. It is a story about using your heart, brains, and courage to overcome incredible odds. It is a story about finding friends in strange places, and acceptance. And the feeling you get when you have 3700 people booing the villain, cheering for the good guys, and chanting along with you ("lions and tigers and bears, OH MY!") is something else.

Is it bittersweet? It is surreal--I look at pictures of me, and at some memorabilia I got for the opening, and I think 'that's not me--that's a movie'. The people have been amazing. The work has been professional-grade. It has been wonderful and I will miss it. Come see it tomorrow if you can.

Planes and related trompe l’oeil...

Last week, on the 64th anniversary of D-Day, there was a B-17 'Flying Fortress' going back and forth over my house. I am assuming it was flying from Santa Rosa airport to Petaluma and back--there is an air museum at the Santa Rosa airport that has an airshow every year. It was an awesome thing to experience--it was the sound more than the sight, although that also was very, very cool. Just the deep rumbling that those four huge engines make as it cruises along is impressive enough.

Anyway, on a somewhat-related topic, today I saw this and had to share. Lockheed camouflaged their entire operation in Burbank, California to make it less visible from the air. They were afraid the Japanese would fly in to attack targets in California, based on concerns founded in the post-Pearl Harbor era. They didn't do too bad a job, all things considered:

Before:



After:



Go to Think or Thwim's blog entry to learn more.

Write your own caption...

Okay, what in the name of all that is holy is this guy doing?



Is that a giant electrical peacock cupcake on his head? Post your caption in the comments section below.

(In actuality, it's all part of the Ethnic Dance Festival going on right now in San Francisco. It looks like an amazing time. Alas, I don't think I am going to make it out. But if you go, let me know how it was--maybe I'll join you next year...)

The Crystal Skull...

Okay, I haven't done a movie review here yet, so here is the first. Be warned: I like to talk about art. Even (especially?) bad art. Most of my movie/music/art reviews will require at least two beverages, a light snack, and one trip to the bathroom. You have been warned. So here you go:

In general, there seem to be two distinct camps of people who have seen Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull: those who liked Raiders/Last Crusade (the "odd" movies), and those who liked Temple of Doom (the "even" movies). I am of the former camp, and believe a series should try to keep to its original as much as possible, but I will try to keep this objective.

RLA/LC movies were story-driven. Ancient, spiritual artifacts that are familiar to the average member of the Western culture, a single major storyline with easily hateable and identifiable villains, and a pulp adventure movie feel done on an A scale instead of a B scale. If you are an adventure movie fan and like the pulp stories these are for you.

ToD/CS movies were action-driven. Created "artifacts", a variety of villains and storylines that cross over and are ill-defined, B-scale production reliant on large amounts of CG that exceed the suspension of disbelief (rivers of lava, the aforementioned refrigerator, etc.) If you like to see stuff blown up, these are for you.

Why I personally didn't like it [SPOILERS BELOW]:

I had some serious concerns when I saw the previews for this movie. The previews were more of the ToD variety: a weak sidekick, difficult to identify villians and storylines, tons of wink-wink-nudge-nudge, and, even though they tried to hide it, a heavy reliance on CGA.

Now then. In the original format, Jones movies start with a nice little teaser that lets you know something of what Indy has been up to. In Raiders, it was the wonderful bit in Central/South America with the gaming-inspired, trap-infested idol site. In Crusade, it was a flashback-laden story that showed some of where Indy came from in the context of a mini-ep about the Cross of Coronado. Neither of the "even" movies had that--a mishmashed jump into the movie was all we got.

Jones starts out in the first movie as a user--he has his soft side, sure, but he is a user. He likes people okay--good people, obviously, never "bad guys"--but he is a violent geek. He blows stuff up, shoots people, and insults people without necessarily meaning to in order to get what he wants (Captain Kirk as an archaeologist). It is why he must get the crap beat out of him, just as Han Solo does in Star Wars movies--he is a good guy overall, but has some bad parts that must be pergatoried out of him. He operates alone, only *hiring* people to work with him, until he is eventually--and reluctantly--attached to another person. This person is not a liability, however--it is someone to whom he has a significant tie emotionally, and who has assets of their own to contribute to the quest.

These characteristics were present in the third movie as well, but conspicuously absent in the second and fourth--the sidekicks he is saddled with in ToD/CS have little to contribute and are annoying liabilities. Until somehow they suddenly contribute something that tips the entire scale, seemingly by luck (a punch here, a chant there, a torch over here). They even rescue Indy, who has haplessly been caught with his pants down in a way that makes you question whether he ever deserved the tough hero title.

The storyline in the "odd" movies was pretty easy to follow--get the Christian artifact. It is powerful, ancient, and would be devastating in the hands of the bad guys. There is one set of bad guys racing against you to get it, and they will sometimes use you and sometimes get ahead of you. In the even movies, however, it was different: Chinese gangsters, Indian royalty, and some mystical cult in the second movie; russians, americans (remember the dropped government storyline?) and south americans (remember them?) in the fourth movie. More on this below.

To make matters worse (my opinion, remember), the storyline of the even movies is completely buried in over-the-top CGA. Lucas and Spielberg themselves admitted that the second movie was focused on effects more than the odd movies, and I think that is clearly the case with the fourth movie as well--the initial entrance to the complex was the most glaring, unbelievable part of the entire movie. The whirling vortex of stone was exciting, I will grant--but it did not belong in this franchise. It is just too much, and makes it all about the effects and drowns out the storyline.

To make things worst of all: I got the repeated feeling, both while the movie was happening (and you must know, I can suspend my disbelief like nobody's business) and in discussion afterward, that this was a farewell movie--not an Indiana Jones movie. It was as if the production and creative team sat in a room and said, 'ya know, Harrison isn't going to do another one of these. What should we do?' Then someone said, "El Dorado!" and someone said "Aliens!" (probably Lucas) and someone said "Russians!" (that was probably Spielberg, I think he is over the whole Nazi thing) and someone said "Government paranoia from the 50's!" and Spielberg said, "We simply MUST get Shia Ladouche in here somehow..." Then no one would compromise, so we got all of it. There were repeated verbal takes to the audience (like Lucas' patented "I've got a bad feeling about this"), and a number of unnecessary commentary-on-society nods (Look at that steampunk-inspired automatic deforestation device! Those russians sure are EVIL!) that just took me out of the whole thing.

Someone mentioned the Spiderman3 emo-Peter--a perfect tie-in, in my opinion. My son's friends liked that movie, and I hated it, for many of the same reasons that they liked Crystal Skull and I didn't. Overall, I believe Zeke said it best: they could have taken Indiana Jones out of this movie and replaced him with any other generic adventure character. It would have been a better movie and better for the franchise. If you like generic action films, and can put the franchise aside, bully for you. I could not. Sad for me.

Follow up to the RoPo drama...

Here's some more from the clipper:

~~~~~~~~

A Rohnert Park man found fatally shot in his Harmony Place home Saturday morning died of a single gunshot wound to the upper left chest, according to preliminary autopsy results.

Sonoma County coroner's Sgt. Mitch Mana said toxicology tests on Roger Hilliard are still pending. Mana said Rohnert Park police, not the coroner's office, will investigate whether the death was suicide or a homicide.

Rohnert Park Department of Public Safety officers went to a residence at 4555 Harmony Place around 1:35 a.m. Saturday regarding a domestic violence call. Hilliard, 71, reportedly was alone in the house, was possibly armed with a handgun and a shot had been fired, police said.

The Sonoma County Sheriff's Department's SWAT unit and bomb squad also responded and used a robot to search the inside of the residence, police said. Hilliard was located and pronounced dead at the scene.

~~~~~~~~

And here's another link.

Some friends have commented on how the police "mishandled" the situation. I was thinking about it, and it occurred to me that it probably went down like so: someone calls the police to report a domestic disturbance, with shot(s) fired. The police show up, no one answers when they go to the door. The options are to storm the house ala movies/TV, or be safe and actually use all that special crap we as taxpayers have been "investing" in. We *have* a SWAT team and a bomb squad; why not play it safe and send them in?

Of course, the dispatchers apparently did not get that level of training--having us just run from home with no explanation and no place to go was not really the best option, either. There is a fire department just three blocks from my house--they could have pulled the trucks out and let us all hang out there until it was resolved, as they would (hopefully) have done if there was a big emergency. So I wasn't very impressed with the way that side of things was handled. But tactics-wise, I was okay with the other part.

Thanks for all your support and concern!

Clip of the week...

Okay, readers, a chance for feedback: Should I keep this feature on Mondays, when it can (hopefully) cheer you up on your first day back in the mines, or should I move it to Wednesday to celebrate hump day? It seems like Monday would be a good time to recap the weekend. Comment if you dare.

Here's this week's clip. Enjoy:

Here's the story...

So...here's the press follow up to yesterday's drama: a clip from the local paper (The Press Democrat out of Santa Rosa):

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ROHNERT PARK
SWAT team robot finds dead man

Published: Sunday, June 8, 2008 at 4:30 a.m.
Last Modified: Sunday, June 8, 2008 at 6:08 a.m.

Soon after a Sonoma County bomb squad robot entered 4555 Harmony Place in Rohnert Park, county SWAT team members quickly learned Roger Hilliard posed no threat. Hilliard, 71, was found dead in the house.

A 911 domestic violence call at 1:35 a.m. Saturday reported that Hilliard had fired a handgun in the house. After Rohnert Park Public Safety officers surrounded the house, city officials called in the county SWAT team.

Members of the SWAT team then created access into the home for the robot to search the home. Hilliard was located and pronounced dead at the scene.

The cause of death is still under investigation, and Rohnert Park police officials released few details about the incident Saturday afternoon.

A woman who answered the phone at the home refused to discuss the incident.

--------

.....and here is a link to the NBC news coverage of the event. Happening. Incident.

Zowie.

One of the strangest nights of my life...

This is a long post. But a good novel. So, be warned--but read on. :o)

So, I am exhausted. I have not been sleeping so well for almost two weeks now (not sure why, exactly), and was very much looking forward to a night of unbroken rest last night. Especially as this is our only two-show weekend of Wizard of Oz, and it is a pretty tough event to perform in. Our call is at 8:30 in the morning, which means a 7am departure for me to get there on time, and we run stuff until 11 when we are sent to lunch. Lunch is provided, but the principals all do a line-thru while we eat, so it isn't really much of a break. Then at 12 we are called, and get into costume, makeup, etc. Show starts at 1, goes till about 3:45 or so. Then we get out of everything and turn in our costumes, etc. By the time I get home, it is 5:30 or so--a 10 1/2 hour day, usually, instead of 4 1/2 for a regular show.

I turn in around 11 or so, and am looking forward to seven hours straight (which I hasten to add I haven't seen in a while). My phone goes off while it is still dark. I assume, in my REM sleep, that it is my alarm, so I open it to shut it off. I press the button, and stare at the screen quizzically as I realize that something is wrong. There is a number on the screen--or was, until I started pressing stuff--and not the "snooze/dismiss" selections I usually get. As I am staring at it and marshalling some awareness out of my drowsiness, it rings again. This time, I press "ignore", as I don't recognize the number.

I then shut the phone, which is when I realize it is 2:18am. Who, you may ask, calls at that hour? I asked myself the same thing. I didn't recognize the number, and I don't usually pick up unless I have the number stored. But then it rang again, and I thought, 'ya know, even if it's for someone else, it's probably an emergency--who calls at 2 in the morning and won't leave a message?' Good thing I picked up.

It was the local police station, and they said, "we are evacuating your neighborhood because of an incident nearby. You need to leave your house at once." I expressed my puzzlement, and my disbelief must have carried through my voice, because she eventually said, "would you like us to send an officer over?" I said yes, because part of me didn't believe that it was real--I was so tired, I was convinced it was some friend of mine playing a joke, and I just was missing who it was.

I did, however, start to get dressed. Better safe than sorry. I don't ever want to be that person on the news who says, 'I thought...' when I should have just done.

The phone rang again, and it was the dispatcher telling me that all the officers were already at the scene, none could be spared, blah, and I was now the last person in the neighborhood, and PLEASE leave my house RIGHT NOW. I got myself together and left, driving two blocks to my local strip mall/supermarket/Starbucks parking lot and dropping back to sleep. I set my alarm for 3am, hoping to go back home and get back in my comfy bed, but alas--my story does not end there.

At 3am, blinding lights filled up the cab of the truck. Two sheriff deputies were parked in such a way that I could not have escaped if I tried. One of them had his hand on his gun as he walked slowly toward my truck. I rolled down my window and said something witty like, "Can I go home now?" He just looked at me. "I was just evacuated from my house, and this is the only place I could think to go." They nodded and left me alone.

I called the RoPo police, and asked if I could go home. They said not yet. I asked if I should get my dog, as I had left her there (thinking it was just a quick thing) and they answered that pets were not a concern--they were trying to keep people away from the windows. (What the hell? I thought. That suggests something concussive, like a bomb.) As I sat in the parking lot, I then watched two unmarked box trucks go by--one looked like a SWAT team truck, and one looked like a bomb squad truck I had seen my Sheriff's Deputy friend driving once. They were followed closely by one of those huge RV-style traveling command posts. Okay, I thought--there go my hopes of this being wrapped up quickly.

I dragged myself to a friend's house and crashed there until about 6am, when I called the police again to see if I could go home. They said no. And said no again when I called at 6:30 and at 7 to ask could I please just get my stuff. I have to leave for my job, I said. They said, we understand, but you can't return just yet. At 7:10 I called my stage manager and said, "I should have left ten minutes ago to make the call time, but I am not even in my house." I then relayed the story to her voicemail.

At 7:30 I decided screw this, I'm going home. I drove over to my house, and snuck in. Got my stuff for the show, got my dog, grabbed a couple other things and scampered out. I still haven't found out exactly what was going on, but I know it was right around the corner. I am assuming it will make tomorrow's paper.

I got to the show at 9am, rehearsal already in progress, so I had to jump in with both feet and did not get any sort of break. Got home to find the boys already there, so I still haven't had a break. Going to bed soon. Keep your fingers crossed for tomorrow.

A little weird...

Preface/rant: I have always had this huge pet peeve about "graduation" ceremonies for K-7th grade. It seems like such a way to "level" the playing ground--in the wrong way. By making every year "special", they have managed to make no year special. There is no sense of accomplishment in moving from grade 5 to 6 if that "accomplishment" has been ballyhooed every year since preschool. It would be like having your birthday every month--you would just get tired of it. Except that moving from one grade to another is actually an accomplishment. Having a birthday is managing to survive for another year. (Which, I guess I would have to concede *is* an accomplishment for some of us.)

I have a similar (same?) beef about every single kid in a league getting a "participant" trophy. What is the point? I mean, I understand we are trying to encourage participation, but aren't we devaluing the hard work and victory of accomplishing something (i.e., the championship)? What sort of society are we setting ourselves up for? I can tell you my prediction, because it's already showing: a society of people who can accomplish much, but don't see the point. Sad. And very, very scary. [end preface/rant]

Anyhoo, today was Thing 1's last day in grammar school. EEEEEK! It was a "promotion" ceremony, which I guess was a small victory. It was also weird because I can't believe he is that old. I was uneasy, but at the same time very, very proud: among other things, he received the presidential award for academic achievment (there were only ten kids in the school who did well enough to get it). He was nervous and very excited, and I was really happy to see him up there. Next year he starts middle school.

EEEEEK again.

Defending the caveblog...

Well, I didn't really think anyone was reading this thing, but apparently you are out there--ya lurkers! ;o) I am grateful for the readership, and especially for those comments you folks (you know who you are) have posted. It's not why I write--that's a discussion for another time--but it is encouraging, nonetheless.

I want to reiterate some things I posted here about how this thing works (for me, at least). I am an open guy. When someone asks me "how are you?" I always answer truthfully. Most people are not prepared for that--it seems "hru" has become synonymous with "hi". Want to say hello? Say it. Want to know how I'm doing? Ask. But be prepared for a real answer. ;o)

Along those lines, I don't like when people play games, and I don't like to play them myself. I try to be truthful always. This also gets me into trouble--I have been told at work that I was "too honest" when I took credit for a mistake that I had made. I have lost friends because I don't like to withold stuff that I feel is important. And sometimes, people have taken things personally that maybe they shouldn't have.

This is made all the more relevant because, as we all know, the electonic medium is very susceptible to subjectivity. It is easy to take things personally here, to filter them through our own experiences and feelings. Not always correct, mind you--there have been plenty of times I have said to myself, 'wait--what?!?' and taken something personally. And been horribly wrong.

I guess I am just wanting to reassure you all, dear readers, that if I have something to say, I will say it. If I don't say it, you may be hurting yourself (and by extension our relationship) by assuming the worst. If it is really personal and should be handled privately, I will not put it here. Angry at me? Hurt? Please send me an e-mail (or call, if you have that information). If you know me well enough, you will know that I do not ever--EVER--hurt someone intentionally. I want to iron it out with you if I step on your toes or accidentally prick your heart. If you are so upset by something I wrote, and you are correct in your interpretation, I will be happy to take the post down and obliterate it from the ether.

Be well, be happy, breathe deep.

Attention Mr. Crosby: your tee time is ready...

Publish them already! We're waiting...

Yikes. This week has been running over me. Sorry for the backlog of time-travel posts, but I had been saving the drafts intending to post them, and never got around to the second step of that equation. Hrmph.

Today's rant: I am going to echo Panda's post about horribibbly misleading drinks. She was recently made aware of some of the actual nutritional information of some of those things you might think are healthy (or know aren't healthy, but don't know exactly HOW bad). Some of them I already knew, but the "Unhealthiest Drink In America" was particularly disturbing.

I used to work for a coffee company as a store manager, and one of the things that always bugged me on a sub-cerebral level was the amount of calories I was putting into a cup. I started with a store in Novato, and one day as a goof we looked up the worst offender at the time (this was in '05). It was an Iced Venti White Chocolate Mocha made with breve (half and half instead of milk) and topped with whipped cream. Total calories? About 1100. We were grossed out.

Then, I transferred to a store in Petaluma, and wouldn't you know it? There was a woman who got one about 2-3 times a week. A disturbing thing I have noticed is that the very people who shouldn't be getting drinks like that are the very ones making the purchase. When I was tending bar, I could always tell someone who needed to stop drinking that I simply wasn't going to serve them any more. It was the whole, I-know-you-can-go-somewhere-else-for-your-fix-but-your-wellbeing-is-more-important-to-me-than-your-money thing. I couldn't do that at the coffee shop, and it always sort of bugged me.

Anyhoo. Go read the original article Panda was referencing here. It was in Men's Health magazine, and they have a great substitution list for some of the offenders, as well as another one for food.

Be well.

Fricken Pens...

Okay, I know I said "Penguins in 6 games" in this post, but now I really, REALLY don't want them to win.

See, there is this guy in the NHL now named Sidney Crosby. If you follow the sport even casually, you know who I am talking about, but just in case you don't and you are actually going to read this post, I'll enlighten you. The guy is an amazing player, certes: fast, agile, handles the puck in ways that would put The Great One to shame, and sees the ice like he's watching highlights. He is a scoring, moving, passing machine.

However, he hurt himself back in January--he gets moving with such a head of steam that if he loses his edge (wipes out, for you non-hockey speaking readers), he can slide right into the boards feet first. Which is roughly the equivalent of jumping off a building and landing square on your feet. Ouch. So he goes and does that, and gets a severe 'high ankle sprain', and suddenly the Penguins are not so happy. But what happens is that this amazing Russian player who has been living in Crosby's shadow rises up and leads the team to secure a playoff spot.

Then, Sid the Kid returns to the roster just in time for the playoffs, and suddenly it is all about him. Everyone stops talking about Evgeni Malkin, stops talking about the other teams in the race, and it all becomes about Crosby. Even in the current series (which is for the championship), the TV coverage will focus on something the Kid did which is in no way important, instead of focusing on something else (like the fact that Detroit has 23 championship rings in their locker room). Mostly it's the same as when you hear a good song, but the radio station plays it so much you end up hating it. Hence my loathing for the Pens.

Anyway, last night was game 5 of a best-of-seven series, and the Red Wings were up 3 games to 1 and playing at home. I was hoping for a shutout. Alas, they played halfway into the third overtime and lost. THREE OVERTIMES. Holy crap. That's like you or me going to work for 16 hours in a day.

Game 6 is in Pittsburgh on Wednesday. Watch it.

Clip of the week...

Food fight, Mummenshantz-meets-Matrix style:



oh, those wacky japanese folks....

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!!! Whew...

Well, today's show was an absolute blast. We still had a couple of injuries (some new, some carried over from last week) and we lost our smoke machine, but we had a good show and a great audience. Included in the audience were some friends (K2, Mr. Ray and his kid, and the Menace and his kid, as well as Dangle and De) and some folks from work. The houses at these performances are awesome--they boo when the Wicked Witch/Ms. Gulch are up to some nastiness, they cheer for good stuff (the melting and the fricken dog), they clap and sing along, and they always do the 'Lions and tigers and bears OH MY' chant along with us. And they go absolutely crazy for the effects, which I am not at liberty to discuss (come see it!).

I got the kids afterward (after some drama) and we all went home. We had some dinner, watched a little hockey, and I will be collapsing shortly after they do. Exhausted.