A Star is Born
Random job I think I’d be good at: placing cows on a farm for prime aesthetic enjoyment. I’d call it simply Cow Placement Artisan and advertise myself as such. Farms and Ranches would hire me to come and place cows (and other livestock) around their land for greatest beauty. So yah, I got it covered if this music thing doesn’t work out.
Avengers Infinity War
I’m not even gonna front, this movie was incredible. For all my jawing about indie movies and docu-dramas, sometimes these big tent pole blockbusters really get me. Took the whole family to the theater, snuck in our special organic bio-popcorn and hot damn was this good.
My current favorite fake dog breed names I hand out at the dog park: Gloinchester, Korean Dock Worker, Heavy LeBeouf, Bishops Grumpleton and Mark Wahlberg.
Close Standers. It’s my working term for people who stand too close to you in lines. Like at the grocery store, in the bank, getting tickets to a movie. People who crowd too close to you in the rear. Personal space people, learn about it.
Same goes for people walking behind me.
Leave no Trace
New name for a band if anybody’s interested:
Powerbottom and the Four Tops
Sorry to Bother You
I’ve never liked showers. My wife’s friends liken it to dogs who dislike getting in the bathub. My wife herself doesn’t give me too much crap about it but she is curious (in a scientific way) so I’ve been giving it some observation and examination and here are some early conclusions:
1. First off it’s not the shower itself, the standing in the water part, that I dislike. That part is damn near enjoyable.
2. The pre and post shower is where the majority of the problem lies. These parts, the terrible bread around the glorious sandwich, is what I am not a fan of.
3. Worst of all is the post shower. I mean you step out into a frequently cold bathroom and frigid floor tiles, you can’t see into the mirror and then and it takes way too much time to dry off. Coupled with the length of time, I just don’t enjoy drying off, damn near dislike it. It feels like having to do a chore when you’re a kid. I loath it, get annoyed by, put it off, slump my shoulders, whine about it the entire way through. Terrible.
4. Then there is the required squeegee-ing of the shower glass doors. Right there the shower experience could take about a 10% jump in acceptability if I didn’t have to do that.
5. Following that I always find a place to errouneously place the towel. There is apparently one
acceptable place to put a towel and I still haven’t found it yet.
6. And the shower experience doesn’t just end there…It trails on and keep going like an
annoying piece of gum stuck to your shoe. My hair stays wet for about a day and a half and
then inevitably dries into some type of cubist art piece that is dramatically worse than what I
had before entering the shower.
And then to add insult to injury, you will just need to do it all over again next month.
He Won’t Get Very Far on Foot
Wearing a bandana is a big gamble which seems to either pay off extremely well or death in flames. If you do something cool while wearing a bandana it makes it twice as cool, however if you do something stupid you look like you should have the nickname ‘Gator.’
Won’t You Be My Neighbor
As I get older I have less and less threshold for needy people. If you require extra care, attention, or delicate handling….I’m kinda out. I feel the same way about fruit. Apples and blackberries, boom they can go right in your mouth. Oranges and pomegranets are more needy, you gotta peel em, they’re messy, you gotta deal with rinds etc. And grapefruits I mean forget about it, you need a specific spoon to eat it.
Mission Impossible: Rimjob
The other day at my folks place, they had a British television mystery on the TV and as I walked by I overheard the line “don’t sell me a dog.” I could have misheard this but either way, since I am a fan of antiquated phrases and words, I immedietly took a liking to it. I’ve just been throwing this out in conversation and acting like I know what it means.
Ready Player One
This could be different for everybody, but I’ve realized that once you decide what you are going to do with your life, career wise, things around that settle down. Once you make that real life decision the seas calm, waves that once might have capsized you now only grace your bow with a splash.
This is certainly true in my case as I can remember early on when a bad review would send me into a tailspin, or a great show meant that we were destined for fame and fortune. Little things that used to send me into ecstasy or rage no longer have such an effect nor leave an emotional residue. Now those things are just passing signs on the freeway. We can have whole tours that are rough, or a years worth of good press. The waves out in the middle of the ocean are different, they are slow and massive, unlike the quick and chaotic ones where you first enter on the beach.
I have made a number of ‘big decisions’ regarding my career. I laugh when I recall the first one about 20 years ago when Tyson and I said, flushed and joyfully, “Yah dude, lets start a band!” Almost as if we couldn’t think of anything better. Five years later it became “Eh, what the hell… let’s carry on.” Then it became “damn this is hard living.”
Time went by. I saw friends and colleagues slowly and steadliy fall away into less stressful, more lucrative and well travelled career paths. I saw the industry rise and fall a few times, I watched our own star do the same. Life happens.
My last ‘big decision’ was a year ago. I said to myself that I’m going to live a creative life. I’m going to hone my crafts and be an artist in the truest sense of the word. I’m sure it’s gonna change and look different as time passes, but I’m settling in. I can hear the waves break against the bow. I feel the weather and the water against my skin. I think I can do this. If not for the money than at least so the kid can see it can be done.
I’m nervous every time I say we’re out of something and then my wife gets up to go look for herself.
On an unrelated note I recently found an ice cream bar that changed my life. I literally can’t believe how fucking good it is. I would put it out there however I fear there might be a global shortage and I don’t need competition in the grocery aisles. This fear is justified as a number of local stores have stopped carrying it. I’ve actually talked to the store managers about it. This shit is getting real. God damn it, it’s 8:30 in the morning and I’m already thinking about it.
I feel like we, as a society, are currently buried under the weight of information. I believe the problem is that we mistake this information for knowledge.
Here it is ladies and gentlemen, after all the clamour and requests, we give you the Top Five films from both Trevor and Curt for the
The First Official
Naked Top Ten List with Trevor and Curt
– Still cry everytime I watch it.
2. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
– Charlie Kaufman, just brilliant
3. Hellboy 2
– At this point I have to put this on my list just because I’ve been raving about it to everybody who doesn’t like these types of movies. Hellboy has kind of become my spirit animal
4. Pulp Fiction
– I remember watching this in High School and it changed everything I thought about movies.
5. Grand Budapest Hotel
– Gotta put a Wes Anderson one on here and this might be my fav.
– I wanted to put Star Wars but its a trilogy and I couldn’t pick just one so blah blah blah…Snatch, it’s like the British Pulp Fiction. And here’s a picture of Star Wars.
7. Toy Story 3
– I think in broad terms you can substitute any Pixar film in here but this one will always occupy a special place in my heart.
8. Swiss Army Man
– I can’t put my finger on why I love this movie so much, but I do. Curt loved it too.
9. Being John Malkovich
– Did Trevor already mention Charlie Kaufman? That guys kills me.
10. Fight Club
– I loved this movie when it came out. I was living in China at the time and got a poster for my room with the title in Chinese. I wonder what the hell happened to that poster.
So there it is folks. Our Top Ten for now
I have this thought that repeatedly gives me pause for chuckle….
When I’m stuck in traffic, I imagine pulling up to a car next to me with it’s window down, leaning over and casually delivering the line: “So, like I was saying…..”
I had a great childhood. My adulthood has been hit or miss but I look back with great fondness on my wonder years. The other day I walked by a garage sale that had a bmx bike and it reminded me of this story which quite frankly made me stare into the distance and smile.Growing up in a small town we all had bikes and rode everywhere. A pack of like 6 of us `terrorizing’ the town, jumping over curbs and spitting up gravel, we were probably 8 or 10 years old. My buddy Mark had just gotten a new bike and it was called The Screamer. I remember this clearly because not only was the logo rad (it looked like a heavy metal magazine cover) but also Mark used to always shout, or scream, his bike’s name when he was riding. “Screamer!!!!”
One day we were riding around town, Mark yelling out “Screamer!!” and jumping off the sidewalk, when our other buddy Ian then shouted “hey you should raise your fist in the air when you yell, that would look badass.”
Now I’m unsure if Ian was secretly diabolical or if this was just a funny coincidence, but Mark did exactly as was suggested, and as we all turned back to watch, Mark raised his fist, yelled “Screamer” and promptly went head over handlebars, biting it hard into the street.
This was a real digger. He went splaying into the concrete, rolled a few times, his bike flipping over him. And we all lost it. Sully laughed so hard he wiped out himself, I saw milk come out of Berto’s nose and I had to stop just so I didn’t go down. Mark was fine, all little boys do is hurt themselves, and we all got up and went to the park to play baseball.
Man we laughed for like a week about that. Those were the glory days.
A Quiet Place
There are so many concerns and complaints about social media. It’s a place where we project who we want to be, not who we genuinely are. It’s a place of insecurity, bickering and trolling. But my biggest concern is that we are self revealing before self reflecting. I feel like this one in particular is going to lead to problems and helping raise a kid I am particularly aware of trying to instill the opposite.
We probably won’t know the long term effects of the social media age on our brains and psyche for ages. Culture and society will be changed forever, maybe for the better maybe for the worse…. but hey I don’t want to shout at clouds, and happiness is never perfect, so let’s do some likes.
Is that what people say?
The Florida Project
I have this idea. It’s basically a long play joke which will take patience and dedication, but here it is…. Everytime the wife takes a shower, in the middle of it knock on the door, peak my head in and ask an irrelevant question. So it would look like this: knock knock…. “Hey hon, do you know anybody who ever fell into a drain pipe?” or “Are we out of Ben Kingsley?”
Ok ok, I know it sounds absurd but stick with me. Part of the humor, I believe, will be in the questions themselves, the more creative adding to the general absurdity of it. So inquiries such as “Do you think I have the strength of 120 babies?” and “How much do you think the heaviest dog weighs?” will start adding to the intrigue. In addition I think she would start looking forward to it, almost start laughing before I even ask. A smile born just upon the words “Hey hon….”
I don’t know. It’s funny in my head. And I’m always looking to improve and hone my craft. I don’t know.
My Life as a Zucchini
Funny thing to do when you order food to go at a restaurant…say to the waiter
“This is for Gene Hackman, he’s waiting outside.” Almost say it like an apology to really add to the confusion and intrigue.
Watching this movie made me think about how much I liked The Shape of Water. Everything about it, the colors, the score, the story, the acting…I’d like to officially place my vote for The Shape of Water to win everything at the oscars. I thought it was delightful.
10 times out of 10 I put USB cords in the slot the wrong way. I shake my head and smirk before I even try it because I know its gonna happen, and it always does.
The Big Sick
My cooking skills seem to be atrophying the older I get. What made me realize this recently was when the wife and kid went away for a weeklong retreat. She very lovingly but with a bit too much concern asked if I’d be ok and get enough to eat. “Sure, no problem babe, I got this.” But I didn’t have it. I had pizza and popcorn, that was about it. I ran aground on day 3. Ate out the rest of the time.
What’s more, I have determined through observation and shear experience, is that I have no interest in improving my competence in this area. Big fucking goose egg in the culinary drive department. I might just take this startling lack of food acumen to the grave.
I mean I have a number of simple recipes I can whip up for the kid like mac n cheese and noodle soup, but for the most part I am absolutely worthless in the kitchen. I mean truly worthless.
This precipitous decline isn’t happening with everybody around me. Just the other day I was hanging out with Jason, our fiddle player extroadinaire, and he whipped up an elaborate toasted walnut, smoked salmon spinach salad. The ol’ Tyler Mullins loves everything about cooking, talks endlessly about bullshit like pine nuts and the correct way of making them more like pine nuts.
So yah, adult life moment, big fucking goose egg in the culinary drive department and I am totally ok with it.
Lets talk for a quick second about theater etiquette. I feel like a lot of this stuff should be instinctual but apparently it’s not….
Rule 1: Never make any sound, ever. Once the trailers are done, no more talking. If you have to open something that’s in a wrapper, do it during an action sequence, not in the middle of a quiet monologue.
Rule 2: Always refer to Rule 1.
The wife has this thing where she gets easily spooked in movies and the slightest scare will illicit a full blown blood curdling scream, often times in close proximity to my ear. Shit scares the hell out of me.
This, I believe understandably, illicits not only shock but annoyance. This annoyance doesn’t land well and we’ve gotten in full blown tiffs about it. We both can’t seem to help it, I mean it’s a knee jerk reaction for her to scream and then knee jerk for me to get pissed, then she gets pissed that I’m pissed. This is a real thing.
Phantom Thread had no such moments and we both enjoyed it quite a bit.
The Shape of Water
Wouldn’t it be funny if when somebody handed you a newborn baby to hold, you just set it on the ground and said “Oh, no thank you.”
I am terrible at remembering birthdays. Even if I do get the month right was it the 26th or the 28th? I mean I know it starts with a 2 and a has a round second number….
This movie reminded me of one of my favorite digs a woman can say, which is “Suck my dick!” Always puts a smile on my face.
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri
3 sounds within a film that I hate:
1. The chewing of food, or lips smacking from eating.
2. Ringing phones. I just wanna scream at the actor “pick up the god damn phone!”
3. The sound of liquid being poured into a glass. Shit is like nails on a chalkboard to me.
The wife hated this movie. I thought it was at least interesting but I get it. Don’t expect to feel good afterward.
The Last Jedi
Curt is just pissed, he thinks it was terrible and vows never to watch another but Trevor loved it and is just happy to watch any Star Wars. Clearly the debate about this one will rage onwards. Be patient, we might have more to say after a second viewing, or if you see us out by the bar of a DU show we’re happy to pick up the discussion.
So this second dog is apparently sticking around. Still haven’t gotten a grasp on her name yet, Nardo?….Dipshit….Batman? The wife absent-mindedly called her `Farts’ the other day. I like that.
Coach is getting used to her, I feel like he’s more annoyed than not but we’re all adjusting. Apparently she is retarded when it comes to lying on beds though. Check it out…
In my head, every time I see a car I don’t know driving down my street I say to myself “Who the fuck is this asshole?”
The Meyerwitz Stories
Are there any limits to last names? Do people just make them up? Are there any rules?
It seems like there is just an endless abyss of last names and variations. I mean that goes for names in general, both first and last, it’s just endless.
Best Picture 2017
World Series highlights from the Cubs Championship
I have no problem admitting that I am quick with the teary eye. Ask anybody who knows me and they will recall a moment of surprising (or not surprising) tears. I cry at most every dramatic movie, or if I hear something inspirational, or watch a commercial with a dog. I cried openly when the Cubs won, my daughter stared up at me, slack jawed, trying to understand what was going on. I cried again several times watching this re-cap of the World Series.
My wife knows that I cry at everything. I love the fact that she lets me do it with class and dignity. Discreetly handing my a tissue or diverting attention in public so I don’t get odd stares.
I think I get my tear ducts from my dad. He cries a lot also. I’m not sure this story is entirely historically accurate but I think my dad opened the first date with my mom in tears after just having watched Brian’s Song, a tear jerker about the Chicago Bears. He just opened the door and was a mess. I like to think that’s how they met and fell in love.
Guardians of The Galaxy 2
Coach, our first dog and god’s greatest gift to earth, is a close-talker, always has been. Never really thought much about it, until my wife brought it up.
“Why’s he gotta be so up in everybody’s business?”
“I don’t know. Because he’s interested?”
“Yah, but does he need to be THAT interested?”
She was right. I looked over and saw the dog standing directly in front of our daughter, approximately 1 inch separating nose from nose. He’s a close talker, always has been, never thought much about it. But now having two outside observers I realize how ridiculous this behavior is.
If you are sitting on the couch, he will walk up right in front of you, look you dead in the face at point blank range and just stand there. If you push him away he will then shift slightly so that his body is perpendicular to you, parrallel to the TV. So now you can’t see the TV, nor can you operate the remote due to his shear size.
This TV obscuring’is a surprisingly common occurance in our house. Coach just standing there like a wingding, family members moving and contorting to get a view of the TV, one of us with the remote waving it up in the air like we’re trying to get a cell signal. He’s a close talker, always has been. Never really thought much about it.
What the Health
I can’t believe Tom Brady is the same age as me. It makes me feel terrible about myself.
Does anybody else get annoyed with noise pollution? Or loud sounds in general!? I swear everyday I am both jarred and enfuriated by loud sounds eminatating from all sorts of random things. Yesterday it was the elevator bell. I honestly shouted at it out of shock and irritation. Why does it need to be so loud!?
It’s everywhere, the other day it was a public toilet flushing, then it was a motorcycle driving by and then it was my ultimate nemesis, leaf blowers. This morning I went out in my slippers and bath robe, just stood and evil eyed the landscapers across the street who were running a leaf blower.
God damn I fucking hate those things. That’s what I want etched on my gravestone: “I told you I hated leaf blowers!”
Kong: Skull Island
We just got a second dog, a puppy, equally as big as the first dog. It was a terrible idea. She is a nightmare. I still can’t seem to get her name right. Sheetrock… Dinger… Lunch Head, I don’t know. I just yell whatever comes to mind. Yesterday I shouted “Dick!” when I caught her chewing on my pillow.
That dog is on thin ice.
I’m reading a book that takes place in Scotland during the 18th century. It is chock full of great styles of speech reflective of the time and place. My current favorite is the word `cockstand.’ I like to say it with a Scottish Burr, as in: “well if you’re gonna wear that dress it’ll indeed give a me a terrible cockstand.”
This movie was awesome by the way, I am a sucker for a good period piece.
Had this dream a little while back….
I was fixing a car in the driveway with a buddy. We needed a part so we went to an auto parts store and guess who was standing in line!? Steven Fuckin Tyler. All dressed up in rock star apparel, he was the coolest dude, just hanging out in the auto parts store. We told him what we were working on and he said “Man, I know that car, let’s do this!”
So here we come back to the house with Steven Tyler in tow. The wife is super excited so she comes out and asks us if we want anything to snack on and sure as shit Steven Tyler says: “Nah, I’m cool” and he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a pack of Pop Tarts. You know the shiny silver packet with 2 Pop Tarts inside!? Yah, boom, he pulls one out and just starts casually eating a Pop Tart, says it helps him stay sober.
It was awesome. We all just worked on the car. He was knowledgable and wasn’t afriad to get dirty, wrenching on the car in all his scarves and weird jewelry, occasionally belting out a scream in folksy conversation. All the while he kept non-chalantly pulling Pop Tarts out of his pocket.
I was stoked when I woke up, I checked out Aerosmith’s tour schedule, downloaded a few songs. I’ve also been giving Pop Tarts some sideways glances in the grocery store.
One of my favorite axioms came from Dennis Leary when he said “life sucks, get a helmet.”
I’ve always loved that. I say it in my head all the time, and now especially with the kid. I wonder if that’s an acceptable thing to say as a parent. “Well I’m sorry that happened sweetheart….but life sucks, get a helmet.”
Probably should run that one by the wife.
This movie has a number of fantastic lines. My favorite…
“It’s a hell of a thing, ain’t it?
“A boat in a tree, hell of a thing.”
I’m going to try and assimilate this into normal conversation. “A boat in a tree, hell of a thing”. Anytime something is weird or crazy I’m gonna use it. Like someone says to me:
“Dude, did you see that game last night?”
and I’ll be all…
“Yah, boat in a tree, hell of a thing.”
I’ve been helping out a lot with the kid’s homework lately. Apparently my status is being called into question because I made up some fictional math terminology. They also think I invented a country.
I’m getting increasingly more annoyed with waiting in lines. I’ve just lost my patience over the years. When people don’t have their shit together or are on their phone it drives me nuts. Or when people are in the express lane but they have more than 15 items, and half those items are obscure produce that need price checks, that shit will give me an ulcer.
I’ve watched myself grow more impatient over the years and its almost getting to the point where I say something. Just yesterday I sat forever behind two people who apparently had never been to a Jamba Juice and asked questions about every possible thing: “Well what’s the difference between Whey Protein and Soy Protein? Well which would you recommend?”
They then proceeded to change their order, twice, and finally whipped out a coin purse and struggled for exact change. I audibly grumbled, which thankfully they didn’t hear, but I’m really close to being that guy that says something. It’s embarrassing.
The Girl on the Train
If somebody with Athletes Foot walks around a hot tub, and then a person in the hot tub rests his neck on that spot, would he get Athletes Foot on his neck? And if so can we please call that Neckletes Foot!?
The book I’m currently reading is all about British history. I’m particularly impressed with the names of English towns. These people are fantastic at naming things! I mean I started out in the town of Little Dribbling and ended up in Great Snoring, by way of Pucklechurch.
And from there the names just keep getting better. Towns include: Upton Snodsbury, Mudford Sock, Bitchfield, Cockermouth, Barton in the Beans and my favorite: Nether Wallop. Shit! I forgot my other favorite: Bishop’s Itchington. I’m not making these up, go look for yourselves. And that last one correctly has an apostrophe, so that means at some point the Bishop had an Itchington. That sounds like something I would say late at night to the kid. (On a side I want to point out that these names can all function fantastically as fake dog breeds that I use in the dog park.)
In addition nothing in Great Britain is ever just Notting, its Nottingham, or better yet Nottinghamshire. I’m getting quite a chuckle out of it. I think I would have been great back in the 16th century helping name these villages and squares. I would have been the one in the back of the town council meeting trying to add a few extra suffixes to everything.
The president of the board would announce: “Currently up for voting is the name of East Ruther.”
And people would mumble “Oh, yes, East Ruther is a fine name.”
I would then subtly cough out “East RutherFORD.”
The council members would then mumble “Ah yes, East Rutherford is a more strapping name, harrumph, harrumph.”
I’d then slyly change sides of the aisle and call out “East RutherfordSHIRE!”
“Oh smashingly good sir! East Rutherfordshire it shall be!”
And then, like at an auction, I would keep raising my racket and bidding it up.
“I say East RutherforshireHELM!”
“Mumbles of approvement from the crowd.
“Maybe even East RutherfordshirehelmFORTH!” to a smattering of claps from the crowd.
”I say, moving notion chap! Harrumph!”
And then the dagger, I’d stand up and proclaim:
“East Rutherfordshirehelmforth THE FIFTH!!!”
And the place would go nuts!
“All for East Rutherfordshirehelmforth The Fifth say “I”!”
Of course I have taken to instituting this English way of naming things into my daily life. My wife (Mrs. RollingHerEyesbrooke) hasn’t laughed yet, but I think the dog has taken a liking to his new nickname: Leonardfordshirehelmforth the 5th Duke of Uploading. And like the American I am, I have whittled that down to simply Lenny, which after a few days has felt oddly familiar.
Near my sister’s house there is a large utility box that somebody has scrawled a message on. The lettering is notably unique as they used masking tape to outline the letters, and let it sit there for months, or years. Then the masking tape was removed, or withered away with the weather, and it left an imprint that reads: “Leave Nerd!”
It’s my favorite piece of graffiti, ever.
The first year I had my dog he ate (or drank) an entire bottle of vegetable oil. God I love that dog.
Hell or High Water
I was in good seats on the first base side of Wrigley Field on a normal sunny humid day in Chicago. I was probably 10 years old or so watching my hero’s in their pinstripes on the ballfield and I remember seeing for the first time the bald spot on the back of one of my idol’s heads. It was after a play where he was thrown out at second base. His helmet got knocked off in the play and he waited there patiently while his teammates brought him his hat and glove. And there it was, I couldn’t beIieve it. My childhood hero was just a mere mortal man. And a man who suffered from male pattern baldness.
It was later in life that I realized we all have that bald spot in our lives, it’s just a little more glaring when you’re in the spotlight.
This movie was great, go see it.
Swiss Army Man
Dear Wes Borland, I am making Swiss Army Man my Movie of the Year. I have been telling everybody to watch it but nobody has. I think they are missing out. I am so glad that there are artists out there making wonderfully bizarre films like this. I loved it, I think you should watch it.
La La Land
Has anybody noticed that Trader Joe’s hires the friendliest people!? Every time I need help they are so accommodating. Sometimes I don’t even need help, I just want to meet a new friend.
The employees always have the best attitude. When you ask: “hey where are the granola bars?” The person stops what they’re doing and is like “Let’s me and you have have a little adventure together and go find the granola bars!” I love it, I wish every store had employees like this.
The wife and I saw this movie in the theater, I didn’t think it lived up to all the hype.
Kubo and the Two Strings
Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong century.
We get fair amount of song requests and some of them are great, some funny, some stupid. Makes me think of Bruce Springsteen, who plays a bunch of requests at every show. People bring handmade signs and hold them up and then he just calls it. It’s impressive and I respect it.
Speaking of Bruce Springsteen, that reminds of the greatest group of softball mercenaries ever to walk the earth: The Bruce Springsteens. This story has its roots in a long ago tour I was on with some other musicians. We had the day off and were having beers at a downtown bar in Milwaukee. The bar had a bunch of old sports photos, some of minor league teams, some of the bar’s softball team, and we were struck by the wide and wonderful array of strange mascot names for these teams: The Toledo Mud Hens, The Hartford Yard Goats, The Montgomery Biscuits.
So the 3 of us asked each other: if we were to start a team of some sort, what we would call ourselves? There were a few funny ideas and a few bad ones, and then we stumbled on the gem of the day: The Bruce Springsteens.
We laughed about this and it became a conversational touchstone for months to come.Then the summer came and a rival group of friends challenged us to a game of Sloshball in San Francisco. Naturally we accepted that challenge and like the competitive bastards we are, we decided to make uniforms, with numbers, and of course we named ourselves The Bruce Springsteens.
We kicked the shit out them. We then went on and kicked the shit out of another team in the neighborhood. Our heads began to get bigger and we decided to enter into a co-ed softball league. We won it. We were the kings of the under-world of San Francisco pick up sports.
It was then that we decided to put ourselves out for hire. Anybody who wanted to kick the shit out of somebody else in team sports could hire us. Thus was born the greatest group of sports mercenaries in the Bay Area: The Bruce Springsteens.
We’re still available for the record. We’ve lost some spring in our step, some of us put on some weight, a few knees have been blown out, but we still got it.
“Writing songs is like trying to catch a bird. Sometimes you just end up with a handful of feathers. And sometimes you go out for a drink and wake up in Singapore with a full beard.”
Don’t paint with the broad and clumsy brush of generalization. The way you think the world is is not the way everybody else thinks the world is.
There are people who argue to get it right, and there are people who argue to be right. I’d like to think I’m the former, and if you ever want to discuss things, lets try to get it right.
Hunt for the Wilderpeople
My dad taught me how to build potato guns. Growing up we made countless potato guns, some big, some small, some that used hair spray, some that used pure oxygen, some that used a firing mechanism, others that operated only on a match thrown in a hole. We made potato guns for uncles and cousins and gave them out at Christmas.
It was great thing to be a part of. For those of you who have built and fired your own potato gun you know what I speak of. We would shoot potatoes out over the lake, we would shoot potatoes through the field goal posts at the high school football field. We would go out to the dump and shoot as far as we could. Sometimes the potatoes themselves would catch on fire and you were treated to a beautiful spectacle of a flaming potato hurtling through space.
I think the farthest we ever shot one was over the lake where I would guess it went went a few football fields in length, a glorious shot. There were plenty of duds to go along with it, the most spectacular dud coming on Christmas day when we gave my Uncle John a shiny brand new potato gun and we all excitedly went to the deck off the back of the house, loaded it up and…..thump. A limp potato jumped about 3 feet out of the barrel and plopped down near our feet.
That same Uncle was also the one who got knocked over from a potato gun recoil. It was out on a frozen lake in northern Wisconsin and after the shot I looked back and there he was, all sprawled out in the snow. It was a glorious shot if you were wondering, which made it worth it.
Fast forward to my college years in Santa Cruz where my friends and I continued the tradition. One night we were shooting potatoes in the backyard when our housemate Jessica came out and in a drunken swagger said “give me that thing, I’ll show you how to shoot it.” She took the potato gun and basically hip shot it, hit the bullseye dead center and knocked over the target altogether, `mic-dropped’ the potato gun and was out. It was awesome.
Microbe and Gasoline
I have an itchy scalp. I can’t stand it
One of the many problems with social media is this Outrage Blender that everybody gets thrown into. Why is everybody SO upset about everything!? Why is it that you CAN’T BELIEVE something happened? Is it because you are detached from the actual thing and are writing about it in some ethereal cyber space that makes you that much more outraged? Is there some existential emotional balance that is disturbed by us living so much through social media? Why can’t we just calmly disagree? Why is everybody so worked up? I don’t get it.
And speaking of outrage…why in the world didn’t they have more Darth Vader in this movie!? I mean who was there making this movie and saying, “yah, let’s keep this awesome character to the absolute minimum screen time.”
I remember when my friends and I were growing up we would play all sorts of stupid pranks on each other. One of my favorites was when 3 of us dudes were driving in a one-bench pickup truck, the kind where all three of you sat right next to each other in a row. If we saw a girl or somebody down the road, the person sitting in the passenger seat next to the window would duck way down so nobody from the street could see him, all you could see were two dudes sitting right next to each other in the truck. That shit still makes me laugh.
The Cubs won the World Series. I know a lot of people won’t understand it, and that’s just fine, but it was one of the greatest moments of my life. We tried to put the kid to bed when the rain delay came, but she quickly came back upstairs when she heard me yelling. I think I’m gonna be able to ride this victory through my 40s.
My hope and prediction is that the Cubs will win the next 3 World Series in a row, and then go on to win the Super Bowl the following year.