If you haven't read my last post, this week's clip won't make much sense. You have read it? Oh. Okay, then:
11 years ago
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Twelve Steps...
Hi, my name is David, and I'm a Tetrisaholic. (pause. circle of sponsors responds, "Hi, David.") It has been moments since I used last. (Circle moans collectively, a mixture of sympathy and concern.)
I used to play Tetris back in the days when the game first came out. It was a time of darkness--standing alone in a seedy video arcade in Times Square, plugging quarters into a machine I didn't even know, a machine with cigarette burns near the buttons from countless other addicts who had come before me. I lived for the Russian dance entertainment at the intermissions, a time when one could stretch their carpal-tunnel-bound fingers to prepare for the next wave of colored blocks.
I used to be able to walk away at any time, but soon I found myself pouring all my spare time--and quarters--into the game. In nearly no time at all, I was popping greens, reds and purples like candy. I prayed to the machine, imploring it for the long, thin ice blues that meant multiple rows and bonus points. I begged it for the purples to fill the gaps. I cursed and bruised my own hands banging on the hard case of the machine when the orange came instead of the blue.
Finally, when the darkness became too much, I hit bottom and quit. I realized that I was powerless over Tetris, and that my life had become unmanageable. I made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself, and turned my will and my life over to God, as I understood him, with the belief that he could restore me to sanity. I admitted my wrongs to another, made a list of all people I had harmed, and made direct amends to them wherever possible. With the help of God, as I understood him, I was clean for years.
Then someone--someone who I do not blame for my own addiction--sent me a link to the game via Facebook. There was a special holiday version of Tetris, and I told myself that I could just play a couple of times, for fun, for the holidays, and it would be okay. I could stop at any time. I quickly became mired in the depths of Tetris again, playing the Ultra version...the Marathon version...the Block Star and Sprint versions. I even went so far as to try a Beta version of a new mod of the game. I quest daily to surpass my friends' high scores. I can't seem to stop, no matter how hard I try.
Please, God, as I understand you, take my life over again and free me from this darkness. Help me to keep it green. Or red. Or purple. Or thin, icy blue...
I used to play Tetris back in the days when the game first came out. It was a time of darkness--standing alone in a seedy video arcade in Times Square, plugging quarters into a machine I didn't even know, a machine with cigarette burns near the buttons from countless other addicts who had come before me. I lived for the Russian dance entertainment at the intermissions, a time when one could stretch their carpal-tunnel-bound fingers to prepare for the next wave of colored blocks.
I used to be able to walk away at any time, but soon I found myself pouring all my spare time--and quarters--into the game. In nearly no time at all, I was popping greens, reds and purples like candy. I prayed to the machine, imploring it for the long, thin ice blues that meant multiple rows and bonus points. I begged it for the purples to fill the gaps. I cursed and bruised my own hands banging on the hard case of the machine when the orange came instead of the blue.
Finally, when the darkness became too much, I hit bottom and quit. I realized that I was powerless over Tetris, and that my life had become unmanageable. I made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself, and turned my will and my life over to God, as I understood him, with the belief that he could restore me to sanity. I admitted my wrongs to another, made a list of all people I had harmed, and made direct amends to them wherever possible. With the help of God, as I understood him, I was clean for years.
Then someone--someone who I do not blame for my own addiction--sent me a link to the game via Facebook. There was a special holiday version of Tetris, and I told myself that I could just play a couple of times, for fun, for the holidays, and it would be okay. I could stop at any time. I quickly became mired in the depths of Tetris again, playing the Ultra version...the Marathon version...the Block Star and Sprint versions. I even went so far as to try a Beta version of a new mod of the game. I quest daily to surpass my friends' high scores. I can't seem to stop, no matter how hard I try.
Please, God, as I understand you, take my life over again and free me from this darkness. Help me to keep it green. Or red. Or purple. Or thin, icy blue...
Monday, January 12, 2009
Making the Edges Ragged, (Pt. 3 of 3)...
On the Saturday morning after Christmas, we drove to Anaheim (about an 8 hr drive, depending on how many stops you have to make to utilize the filthy road bathrooms). When we got to town, we had a bit of an adventure trying to find our hotel, but eventually we found it and checked in. After quickly throwing our stuff in the room, Denise treated us all to dinner at Medieval Times. (It was a surprise for the boys, and my first time). We got seated in the front row of the Green knight's section—Leon, as it turns out, is the enemy of the court. The food was not bad, the fighting was top notch, and it was super exciting to root for the bad guy for a change. I was really into it, and shouted more than was prudent, probably.
We went to the park the following day, right after they lowered the ropes to let people in. The weather was pretty chilly, around the high 40’s, so there weren’t a lot of people there. We covered half the park by 1:00 in the afternoon—no mean feat. But if you know how to work the system (yay Fast Pass!), you can cover a lot more ground. (We also pack our own food for all but one meal—saves us TONS of money. Let me know if you want more tips.) We saw all of Adventureland, Frontierland, and New Orleans Square. The Haunted Mansion is all decked out with the characters from “Nightmare Before Christmas”, so that was a lot of fun. We had lunch on some outdoor picnic tables at the edge of the Rivers of America, and then covered the majority of Fantasyland and some of Tomorrowland. As the sun set, the holiday decorations glittered with tons of Christmas lights—and Cinderella’s castle was ASTOUNDINGLY beautiful, with icicles and lights just dripping off it.
After debating whether or not to pop over to California Adventure for the resurrected Electric Light Parade or see the Holiday Fireworks show, we opted to stay. By the time we grabbed some seats on Main Street for the fireworks, I knew I was in trouble—the show, the Christmas holiday, the drive, the yelling at dinner, the park—combined with being surrounded by sick folks—were all taking their toll. I could feel the tickle in my throat growing worse, and the exhaustion I felt as I tried to get hot chocolate for everyone for the fireworks was quickly transitioning into fever hot flashes.
I gutted it out, though, and I’m so glad I did. We watched the fireworks and headed back to the room. The following day we let ourselves get a later start. Denise was now starting to come down with something, too, but she was being a trooper about it. We went to California Adventure and Denise and Thing 2 went to A Bug’s Land while Thing 1 and I went to the Tower of Terror. We met up and saw the most fantastic 3-D experience ever before going to a huge play space type area dedicated to the Brother Bear movie. We sat and ate our lunch before hitting California Soarin’ and making our way back to Disneyland.
Denise and I traded kids, and Thing 2 and I rode the Nemo ride while they hit Thunder Mountain (again) and the Matterhorn (again again). We met up and covered a few last rides before sitting down to dinner. We were dragging, all of us, and the two adults were getting sicker by the minute, but we didn’t want to leave. We grabbed some seats at the Rivers of America for the Fantasmic! show, and then drug our weary selves back to the hotel. On the way out, we were extremely glad we saw the fireworks the previous night, as the weather at high altitude was keeping them from happening. In true Disney fashion, however, they had a backup plan—a light show that involved all the holiday lights on Main Street (including the hundreds of them on the giant tree in the middle of town) all synched up to a holiday song.
The following day, we got up and hit the road, taking the long trip back to NorCal. We picked up the dog from Camp Bow Wow (wonderful place, I highly recommend it if you have a pup and need to board it somewhere). Then we stumbled home. A wonderful trip.
We went to the park the following day, right after they lowered the ropes to let people in. The weather was pretty chilly, around the high 40’s, so there weren’t a lot of people there. We covered half the park by 1:00 in the afternoon—no mean feat. But if you know how to work the system (yay Fast Pass!), you can cover a lot more ground. (We also pack our own food for all but one meal—saves us TONS of money. Let me know if you want more tips.) We saw all of Adventureland, Frontierland, and New Orleans Square. The Haunted Mansion is all decked out with the characters from “Nightmare Before Christmas”, so that was a lot of fun. We had lunch on some outdoor picnic tables at the edge of the Rivers of America, and then covered the majority of Fantasyland and some of Tomorrowland. As the sun set, the holiday decorations glittered with tons of Christmas lights—and Cinderella’s castle was ASTOUNDINGLY beautiful, with icicles and lights just dripping off it.
After debating whether or not to pop over to California Adventure for the resurrected Electric Light Parade or see the Holiday Fireworks show, we opted to stay. By the time we grabbed some seats on Main Street for the fireworks, I knew I was in trouble—the show, the Christmas holiday, the drive, the yelling at dinner, the park—combined with being surrounded by sick folks—were all taking their toll. I could feel the tickle in my throat growing worse, and the exhaustion I felt as I tried to get hot chocolate for everyone for the fireworks was quickly transitioning into fever hot flashes.
I gutted it out, though, and I’m so glad I did. We watched the fireworks and headed back to the room. The following day we let ourselves get a later start. Denise was now starting to come down with something, too, but she was being a trooper about it. We went to California Adventure and Denise and Thing 2 went to A Bug’s Land while Thing 1 and I went to the Tower of Terror. We met up and saw the most fantastic 3-D experience ever before going to a huge play space type area dedicated to the Brother Bear movie. We sat and ate our lunch before hitting California Soarin’ and making our way back to Disneyland.
Denise and I traded kids, and Thing 2 and I rode the Nemo ride while they hit Thunder Mountain (again) and the Matterhorn (again again). We met up and covered a few last rides before sitting down to dinner. We were dragging, all of us, and the two adults were getting sicker by the minute, but we didn’t want to leave. We grabbed some seats at the Rivers of America for the Fantasmic! show, and then drug our weary selves back to the hotel. On the way out, we were extremely glad we saw the fireworks the previous night, as the weather at high altitude was keeping them from happening. In true Disney fashion, however, they had a backup plan—a light show that involved all the holiday lights on Main Street (including the hundreds of them on the giant tree in the middle of town) all synched up to a holiday song.
The following day, we got up and hit the road, taking the long trip back to NorCal. We picked up the dog from Camp Bow Wow (wonderful place, I highly recommend it if you have a pup and need to board it somewhere). Then we stumbled home. A wonderful trip.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Making the Edges Ragged, (Pt. 2 of 3)…
I often get sick after the close of a show--something about the adrenaline finally slowing down enough, or the emotional drain of closing a show and saying goodbye to all those characters, or maybe just the sheer exhaustion of finalizing a run. But this time, I didn't have time to get sick. Christmas was coming! I did my shopping in and around the show time, and was able to knock out my last minute stuff successfully, and got everything ready for a wonderful Christmas. The boys were with me on Christmas Eve, and my girlfriend Denise and Thing 1 and I went up to my parents' house to help my father fold wonton. (It is a tradition in my family to have wonton soup on Christmas Eve--that old division of labor thing. Mom makes Christmas food, Dad makes it on the Eve.)
On Christmas morning we opened lots of presents, then the boys went to their mom's for the afternoon and opened even more. My parents came over in the morning for the giftwrap genocide, and Denise and I played mahjong with them all afternoon while the boys were away. The boys rejoined us in the evening, and we had a splendid Christmas dinner. Overall, the day was a wonderful success (I thought, anyhoo). There was one more gift I had for them, though.
When Thing 1 and Thing 2 were 6 and 3 years old, respectively, I took them to Disneyland for the first time. I didn’t want to go much earlier—no sense taking a kid to something like that they aren’t even going to remember when they’re that young (in Thing 2’s case). But I didn’t want to wait any longer, either—Thing 1 was at just the right age. We had such an incredible, magical time, that I mentioned (and planned, in my heart of hearts) to go every two years until the kids no longer wanted to hang out with us. We went again two years later, and were slated to go again in 2007, but divorce reared its ugly head, and I had emptied my retirement account just to fix my ex’s van, change careers, and move twice. I wanted more than anything to make it happen this year. I personally had never been during the holidays, and had heard it was a special time there (even more special than usual). I asked my mom if she would like to pitch in on passes in lieu of getting them a big-ticket item for their present, and she agreed. My girlfriend volunteered to cover one night of hotel expenses. The success of SantaLand sealed the deal.
Every year, Starbucks Coffee Company releases a wonderful giftcard holder a part of their holiday promotion. I had picked up two of them. On the day after Christmas, I handed my two sons a beautiful red felt card holder with a 2-day parkhopper pass to Disneyland inside. We left on the following day...
to be continued...
On Christmas morning we opened lots of presents, then the boys went to their mom's for the afternoon and opened even more. My parents came over in the morning for the giftwrap genocide, and Denise and I played mahjong with them all afternoon while the boys were away. The boys rejoined us in the evening, and we had a splendid Christmas dinner. Overall, the day was a wonderful success (I thought, anyhoo). There was one more gift I had for them, though.
When Thing 1 and Thing 2 were 6 and 3 years old, respectively, I took them to Disneyland for the first time. I didn’t want to go much earlier—no sense taking a kid to something like that they aren’t even going to remember when they’re that young (in Thing 2’s case). But I didn’t want to wait any longer, either—Thing 1 was at just the right age. We had such an incredible, magical time, that I mentioned (and planned, in my heart of hearts) to go every two years until the kids no longer wanted to hang out with us. We went again two years later, and were slated to go again in 2007, but divorce reared its ugly head, and I had emptied my retirement account just to fix my ex’s van, change careers, and move twice. I wanted more than anything to make it happen this year. I personally had never been during the holidays, and had heard it was a special time there (even more special than usual). I asked my mom if she would like to pitch in on passes in lieu of getting them a big-ticket item for their present, and she agreed. My girlfriend volunteered to cover one night of hotel expenses. The success of SantaLand sealed the deal.
Every year, Starbucks Coffee Company releases a wonderful giftcard holder a part of their holiday promotion. I had picked up two of them. On the day after Christmas, I handed my two sons a beautiful red felt card holder with a 2-day parkhopper pass to Disneyland inside. We left on the following day...
to be continued...
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Making the Edges Ragged, (Pt. 1 of 3)…
My show, The SantaLand Diaries, was more successful than we ever dreamed or hoped.
Back in October, I got an IM via Facebook from a friend I had worked with before--in fact, he was the director of this very same show when I did it three years ago. In that production, there were three of us (instead of the single actor as in the original play). He sent me a message that said, ‘I have a crazy idea. Have you checked your e-mail?’ I checked it. In his message, he was proposing that the two of us put the show up--he would direct, I would be the sole actor, and we would co-produce. I told him that I had had the same crazy idea just a couple weeks prior, and suddenly the game was afoot.
We ended up getting a cool space in downtown Santa Rosa through the Arts District. We also got sweet deals on lighting, sound, and help from another director I think the world of for our flats and blacks for the set. We got an amazing hand from an event coordinator here in town, who helped us design the house and set, and build it all, as well as house manage on performance nights.
On top of all that, we suddenly got an e-mail in November from someone in San Francisco who was producing the very same show. It seems this gentleman had produced the show in the city for six years (this was his seventh). It was a tradition, a mainstay, and they sell out every year. Since the venue they were having the show in this season had two stages, he had the crazy idea to get another production running at the same time. Would we be interested in just bringing our show down? He would provide the lights, sound, PR, everything. We negotiated a bit before backing out--the hassle of going down to the city to do a show when both my partner and I were single dads (me permanent, he temporary) in the middle of holiday when we wanted to spend time with our kids was just too much. Also, my partner pointed out that the way things were going, we could probably extend one weekend and make what we would have made in SFO in two weekends, and with much less hassle. We did extend, and we did very well.
As a consequence, however, I did not get to experience quite as much holiday wonder as I had hoped (one of my best friends in the world calls me “Captain Christmas” from November till New Year’s). But the extra weekend made it possible to take my boys to Disneyland, which was my dream for them since June. Unfortunately, it also meant that I was exhausted going in to Christmas...
to be continued...
Back in October, I got an IM via Facebook from a friend I had worked with before--in fact, he was the director of this very same show when I did it three years ago. In that production, there were three of us (instead of the single actor as in the original play). He sent me a message that said, ‘I have a crazy idea. Have you checked your e-mail?’ I checked it. In his message, he was proposing that the two of us put the show up--he would direct, I would be the sole actor, and we would co-produce. I told him that I had had the same crazy idea just a couple weeks prior, and suddenly the game was afoot.
We ended up getting a cool space in downtown Santa Rosa through the Arts District. We also got sweet deals on lighting, sound, and help from another director I think the world of for our flats and blacks for the set. We got an amazing hand from an event coordinator here in town, who helped us design the house and set, and build it all, as well as house manage on performance nights.
On top of all that, we suddenly got an e-mail in November from someone in San Francisco who was producing the very same show. It seems this gentleman had produced the show in the city for six years (this was his seventh). It was a tradition, a mainstay, and they sell out every year. Since the venue they were having the show in this season had two stages, he had the crazy idea to get another production running at the same time. Would we be interested in just bringing our show down? He would provide the lights, sound, PR, everything. We negotiated a bit before backing out--the hassle of going down to the city to do a show when both my partner and I were single dads (me permanent, he temporary) in the middle of holiday when we wanted to spend time with our kids was just too much. Also, my partner pointed out that the way things were going, we could probably extend one weekend and make what we would have made in SFO in two weekends, and with much less hassle. We did extend, and we did very well.
As a consequence, however, I did not get to experience quite as much holiday wonder as I had hoped (one of my best friends in the world calls me “Captain Christmas” from November till New Year’s). But the extra weekend made it possible to take my boys to Disneyland, which was my dream for them since June. Unfortunately, it also meant that I was exhausted going in to Christmas...
to be continued...
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Happy New Year...
Well, dear readers, another one for the books. As I approached year-end, I realized I had hardly even touched my little corner of the blogsphere in weeks (spheres have corners? wha?). I vowed, as many people vow to lose weight and stop drinking—“right after this last glass of New Year's Eve champagne”--to get back on the horse and write again. After all, I *need* to write, in a way that usually means if I *don't* write, I will end up eating or drinking too much. (See what I did there?)
And here we are, three days late.
I *do* have an excuse: I ran myself ragged, and fell very sick with a flu that is making its rounds here in Northern California. This one is a charmer, starting with a sore throat that just gets worse and worse. The nose starts dripping, the cough kicks in, then the fever and aches and everything. Thankfully, no vomitoriousness with this bug, but still. I spent three days on my back, which for me is saying something.
But, I am back, and will catch you up on the ragged-making events that preceded me breaking my Write-More-On-My-Blog resolution before I could even start it. Rather than post one enormous Tolstoy epic here, I will give it to you in installments. In the meantime, here is my belated New Year’s toast to you—it’s a traditional toast from Canisbay, a small village near John O’Groats in Scotland:
May the best yer've ever seen be the worst yer'll ever see,
May a moose ne'er leave yer girnal' wi' a tear drop in its e'e,
May yer lum keep blithely reekin' until the day yer dee,
And may yer a' be as happy as I'd like yer a' tae be.
(“May the best you've ever seen be the worst you'll ever see,
May a mouse never leave your grain store with a teardrop in its eye,
May your chimney keep happily smoking until the day you die,
And may you all be as happy as I'd like you all to be.”)
Happy New Year, Dearest Readers!
And here we are, three days late.
I *do* have an excuse: I ran myself ragged, and fell very sick with a flu that is making its rounds here in Northern California. This one is a charmer, starting with a sore throat that just gets worse and worse. The nose starts dripping, the cough kicks in, then the fever and aches and everything. Thankfully, no vomitoriousness with this bug, but still. I spent three days on my back, which for me is saying something.
But, I am back, and will catch you up on the ragged-making events that preceded me breaking my Write-More-On-My-Blog resolution before I could even start it. Rather than post one enormous Tolstoy epic here, I will give it to you in installments. In the meantime, here is my belated New Year’s toast to you—it’s a traditional toast from Canisbay, a small village near John O’Groats in Scotland:
May the best yer've ever seen be the worst yer'll ever see,
May a moose ne'er leave yer girnal' wi' a tear drop in its e'e,
May yer lum keep blithely reekin' until the day yer dee,
And may yer a' be as happy as I'd like yer a' tae be.
(“May the best you've ever seen be the worst you'll ever see,
May a mouse never leave your grain store with a teardrop in its eye,
May your chimney keep happily smoking until the day you die,
And may you all be as happy as I'd like you all to be.”)
Happy New Year, Dearest Readers!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)