Went to a wedding today; it was a full Catholic mass, and I was amazed that, although it's been twenty years or so since I went to church regularly, I knew every word and every step. That alter boy training was thorough. I thought using white wine for the blood of Christ was very California. Probably a nice Chardonnay.
Anyway, the reception was great: cupcake tower, chocolate fountain, and open bar. Nice. But the REAL excitement for me was when four Imperial troopers (two stormtroopers, and two scout troopers) showed up and made me giggle like a little girl. Here are the photos; my face ached from smiling so much. Enjoy.
ps. I brought along our wedding invitation, in the hopes that we could make a video for YouTube of me, eating cupcakes, and the Stormtroopers asking to see my invitation, and me telling them that they did not need to see my invitation, and that these were not the cupcakes they were looking for. Didn't happen. Too bad; that would have been fantastic.
Another good earthquake Monday night, and once again, the cats were useless. It could be I just don't know how to read their body language, but if sleeping and grooming are their way of telling me that the ground is about to start heaving violently, we are apparently in for a HUGE one soon. This article talks about the lack of scientific evidence that animals have any sort of "heightened sense" of looming disaster. My anecdotal evidence is probably this: living a block away from the train stop rattles my windows enough that our cats are probably used to it by now, and the odds of them giving us any Lassie-like warnings are slim to none.
Last weekend, the Wife and I took some time off for a much-needed break, and drove north to Mendocino and our first bed and breakfast experience. We found a B&B that we really liked, not only for what it was (centrally located, fantastic breakfast, stylishly appointed, fun art in the courtyard), but also what it was not (not a doily or flower-print, Victorian-style anything in sight). If you are heading that way, we highly recommend it.
We had a great weekend. We relaxed at a spa, ate fantastic food (as well as some bland food masquerading as fantastic), and did a lot of wandering around and window shopping. We bought very little, in part because most of the stores sold the same generic items you find in every other vacation/destination town: fudge that is not very good, but very expensive; a "fancy" toy store that sells the same stuff you can get anywhere, but for a whole lot more money; and the inevitable local artists and their galleries of marginal landscapes that I guess is meant to be a more upscale way of taking home memories. Mendocino does not have an old-timey photo place, but it's pretty much the only thing missing. The other reason we didn't buy much is because, for some reason we were not able to figure out, everything closed at around 2PM and didn't reopen till around 5. Some sort of hippie siesta, I think.
We also wandered around the coast, which was sunny enough to be beautiful, and cool enough to warrant extra layers of clothing. There are various chains and old pieces of wharf still on the trails; apparently Mendocino was a very busy port, but due to its crashing waves and irregular surf, a lot of the shipments had to be picked up by cranes off of the boats and swung ashore. I tried to pull one of the chains out of the ground...I was unsuccessful. I had this fantasy that, if I had been able to yank it out of the ground, the end would have been affixed to this giant bathtub plug, and the whole town would have been sucked into the Pacific. I guess, in retrospect, I am glad I was unsuccessful. My car was parked there.
This is a video I made of the surf; I included my own sound effects, in case years of CGI has ruined your imagination and the majesty of nature is not enough for you. Enjoy.
Great weekend, very relaxing, and something I hope happens again before long.
Just finished The Postman, by David Brin, and not surprisingly, I liked it a lot. If you know me, you know my love of (a) novels set in a dystopic future, and (b) stories in general that deal with the breakdown of society and how people interact when there are no laws, no rules, no order (Lost, come back to me!). This book fit both bills nicely, and I would recommend it.
Now, however, I am faced with a dilemma: do I take the chance of potentially ruining this positive experience by watching the Kevin Costner movie? I think I knew the answer to this question before it fully coalesced in my mind (quick, name a good Costner movie that's not Bull Durham...see?), but after reading Brin's own review of the movie, that answer has solidified into a firm "no." Here's my favorite quote from Brin's review:
...watching Kevin Costner's three hour epic is a bit like having a great big Golden Retriever jump on your lap and lick your face, while waving a flag tied to its tail. It's big, floppy, uncoordinated, overeager, sometimes gorgeous -- occasionally a bit goofy -- and so big-hearted that something inside of you has to give... that is, if you like that sort of thing.
With ringing endorsements like that, I think my Netflix queue is safe.
Ps. Brin, slow down on the exclamation points...you're not Elaine.
On a couple of occasions when I have forgotten that I have TiVo and don't have to watch commercials, I have seen some ads for this group, touting themselves as do-gooders because they are providing free or reduced prescription medicines. One of the commercials I saw has grateful recipients (or actors playing such), talking about how they would have died or come close without this program.
Big Drug Companies, this is a nice start, but it's really just a drop in the bucket. People should not be dying simply because they cannot afford your pills, and they shouldn't be grateful that you dropped your exorbitant prices in an attempt to clean up your image, no matter how many times you put Montel out there with his "this is serious" look.
Here's an idea: how about a "luxury tax" style upcharge on your boner pills to really fund this program? Put your money where your [ahem] is, Pfizer, and I just might start believing that you care.
...I go here for a few years, get my head straight, and come back a lean, centered, Kung Fu killing machine. And apparently I do so for very little money.
This morning, the courthouse I am assigned to was evacuated due to a bomb scare. Long morning; the highlight was the giant explosion when the bomb squad detonated a suspicious garbage can after the sniffer dogs marked it as containing "something." Since there was no evidence of any explosive devices, I suppose that could have included a chicken salad sandwich.
After they blew up the suspicious garbage can, we were allowed back inside. Imagine my surprise when, over two hours later when we left for lunch, the destroyed garbage can, complete with garbage and other jagged metal shards, was still lying around. The Social Services Agency is across the street, including Child Protective Services; maybe this was some new "parenting obstacle course," and if you don't let your kids play with the shrapnel, you get to take them home?
Here's a little video I shot, in case you were hoping I was exaggerating:
I feel like I'm ready to be a correspondent in Anbar province.
Over the weekend, I took what was possibly the worst bad beat in poker I have ever taken; it was the true definition of a "bad beat," in that I had this guy dominated at the turn, and the river brought the one card in the deck that could have saved him. I lost a little over $40 on one hand, and that pretty much cooled my play for the rest of the weekend.
However, where most online sites do not offer bad beat jackpots, I came close the next day. I had put my name into a contest on Full Tilt; if you earned 7 poker points in one day, your name got entered into a random drawing for $77. Imagine my surprise when, the next day, still steaming more than a little, I get an email saying that $77 has just been deposited into my account.
I realize it was a random drawing, but I want to believe that the Poker Gods looked down on me and said, "That was pretty sick. How about a do-over?" Thanks, guys.
I guess it is appropriate that, on the anniversary of the third day after the anniversary of the death of Diana, Bret chose to cut Sam, the people's skanky bitch. I had hoped for a Sam/Jes final two, but now it is not to be. Sam, you lived your time in the Rock of Love house like a candle in the wind...a purple and black skull candle from Hot Topic with a Hello Kitty ribbon tied around it (for the irony, of course), but a candle none the less. I will miss you, even though I have to admit that I agree with Bret that the likelihood of you handling his touring/groupie lifestyle is suspect at best. "Winning" the show for the "privilege" to date a balding rock star from the 80s may no longer be in your future, Sam, but you're a winner in my books.
Dropped The Wife off at the airport this morning; she is going on a cruise with her mother this week, and, if this map is correct, they should dodge Felix by a wide margin.
After the airport run, I drove straight up 101 to the River Rock Casino for their Saturday morning No Limit Hold 'Em tournament. I liked the structure a lot; reasonable buy-in, lots of players, T10,000 in chips, and 20-minute blinds. Having a lot of starting chips and slower blinds allows you to actually play poker, instead of encouraging crazy all-in moves from the start. I will definitely make the drive again. I made the final table, coming in 7th place, and got back my entry fee times two. Nice. Then, it was on to the 3-6 Limit table, where I played for about three hours, and managed to almost triple my buy-in. I hit some very nice hands, including winning four large pots in a row that made up the bulk of my money. Limit poker is all about patience, and even more so when you are playing in person, and you see a fraction of the number of hands you see online. Today, I was the spider, and their chips were the flies.
Which, BTW, is a very appropriate analogy, since there were several flies buzzing around the poker room (it was over 90 degrees in Geyserville today). If it weren't for the hundreds of extra dollars I went home with, I would be very disgusted right now.
Watched this weekend's ep of Ebert & Roeper this morning, and along with Roger, something else was missing. Even if you don't watch the show, you may be aware that Roger Ebert has been off the show for quite some time, recovering from cancer. They have had a parade of guest hosts come through, some more interesting than others, but they have all stuck to the same formula: thumbs up, thumbs down.
However, on this week's show, the thumbs were absent. At first I assumed this meant that Roger may finally be fully retiring, and the show was being reformatted. However, I did a little Googling, and I found this article which explains that Roger, as part of his contract negotiations, decided to take his thumbs with him, and is not letting the show use his trademarked grading system.
I will admit, the thumbs up/down is a little simplistic at times, but I think I like it that way; it forces you to grade each movie against itself, and not against others. Make them pay, Roger.
We were watching an episode of Big Love last night, and after yet another scene where Bill, the husband, has to untangle the Gordian knot of infighting between his multiple wives, I mentioned casually that I would be a bad polygamist. The Wife, answering so quickly that I got a little frightened that she can, in fact, read my mind, and therefore sees through the various gauzy veils of ironic deception that make up my life, (such as how I only watch Rock of Love because I used to listen to Poison as a young man and keep waiting for the episode when C.C. DeVille shows up at the house, rather than the truth, which is I am worried that it will come down to Sam and Jes, because then who will I root for? The creative editing for next week's ep seems to imply that Sam may finally have her meltdown and need to go, but I am holding out hope for my fave rocker grrrl) said, "Yes, you would be a terrible polygamist."
"Terrible"? I mean, I don't want to be a polygamist, and I had already admitted I would be bad at it, but terrible? Isn't that a little harsh? I mean, I know I would be bad at the stern-father-figure/"laying down the law" portion that seems to be important on the show, but I like to think I could learn how to do it over time and with some practice.
If you have been married as long as we have been, you probably know where my thought processes went from there. Now I secretly want a couple more wives, solely to prove to Wife #1 that I can do it, and therefore prove that Wife #1 is wrong.
Ah, spite...the salt and vinegar potato chip of emotions.
I just finished A Spot of Bother, by Mark Haddon, and I enjoyed it. I should put a caveat on my enjoyment by pointing out that, although told with heart and wit, this is not a happy story. But then again, few of us live ideal lives, so this snapshot of a family, teetering on the brink of collapsing in on themselves, felt real to me.
Part of what I enjoyed about this and Haddon's previous novel (which I liked even more than this one, and recommend very highly) is it is unabashedly British. I am not exactly sure what "knackered" means, but in context it made sense to me, and added to the context of the story. Made the whole novel a little more gray, a little foggier. Brilliant!
I am a man of many titles: husband, attorney, barbecue sauce spokesperson. But now, thanks to my new see-through grills, I can add one more: pimp. That's right, pimp. My motions in limine are straight gangsta, yo!
So far, so good. I am into my second tray, and the first few days of each tray are tight, rather than painful (so far). After a few days, they are easier to get in and out of my mouth, a maneuver that still finds me hiding in the bathroom stall, for fear of people seeing me dig in my mouth and the inevitable drool. So sexy.
The main goal is straight teeth without conventional braces. However, the unintentional, and unforeseen secondary goal may be weight loss. I have to keep them in for 20 hours a day; while in, I cannot eat, and I can only drink cool, clear liquids. So, this means snacking is now more trouble than it is worth, and drinking is limited to water and vodka. I could be imagining this, but going into week 2, I noticed that my pants feel a lot looser. Suddenly, the 24 month program doesn't seem like such a bad thing, and I might ask to go a little longer.
But next time I want platinum and diamonds. Because that's just how I roll.
In what may be the best movie promotional campaign ever, 7-11 converted twelve of its stores into Kwik-E-Marts to promote the upcoming Simpsons movie. When I found out that one was within easy driving distance, I knew my mission was clear. As you can see from the photo, many people shared my mission, to the point where they had a bouncer letting people in a few at a time. If you wanted to just buy something normal...sorry...
Immediately inside is your Hindu friend and mine, Apu, welcoming all customers and assuring you that you will be gouged. Other life-sized supporting characters include Chief Wiggum, Comic Book Guy, Ralph, and the most inspired, Jasper inside the ice freezer as Frostilicus.
There was a small selection of show-themed items, including Squishees, Buzz Cola (fountain, not cans...dammit...), Frosted Krusty-Os cereal [sold out, "should get more tomorrow"], issue #711 (get it?) of Radioactive Man [also sold out, also theoretically in tomorrow], and of course, Homer's favorite pink donuts, here being stocked by a Kwik-E-Mart employee who, like his coworkers, seemed very surprised that there were so many people intentionally coming into his otherwise crappy store.
A good pilgrimage, and certainly worth the drive. I guess I am sort of okay with them being sold out of the cereal and comic books; I can't imagine eating the cereal, and both would have sat around until The Wife decided it was time for them to be thrown away. I did have a Squishee, which tasted suspiciously like a Slurpee, and I did buy two of Homer's donuts, and how can you screw up donuts? Good trip, good time, and looking forward to the movie.
Question: if, as I would be inclined, I named/dressed my team for the World Series of Pop Culture in Simpsons-themed sports garb, most likely either the Isotopes (obvious) or the Meltdown (more obscure and therefore cooler/nerdier), would the producers be less likely to include Simpsons questions for us? If my homage to the greatest television show ever would decrease the likelihood of getting Simpsons questions, would it make more sense to go a different route (like "The Solar Sailors" team with Tron, Sark and Clu shirts? That would be pretty tubular), and increase the odds of getting Simpsons questions so that I may devastate all that stand before me?
Discuss.
BTW, I went to the movie site, and built my alter ego, complete with an Isotopes t-shirt (think of this as a dry run for '08). Looking good, cartoon Brendon!
I saw this sign in the back window of an older model BMW yesterday:
I was (and still am) confused. Is this referring to people getting turned down for credit cards, which seems almost difficult to do lately? Is this referring to people not having good credit histories? More importantly, what would possess someone to put a sign like this in the rear window of their car?
The guy driving had a bad tan, way-too-open shirt, and was wearing several ugly gold chains. No question in my mind: this guy is getting credit!
This site is about the only one left where I could find the trailer to the as-yet untitled JJ Abrams project, due out in...January '08. Made me very excited; watch it while you can!
BTW, it is running in front of Transformers, which amazed me: how can a three-hour movie about huge, fighting robots be so dull? The trailer was the best part.
UPDATE 7-10-07:
Looks like JJ is going legit, littering the web with all sorts of viral marketing that makes me squeal like a geeky little girl. Here are some fun sites: the trailer, a puzzle, a blog about the puzzle (and, if you need some help like me, a walkthrough for the puzzle). I have no idea what this movie is about, but I am IN!
In honor of tomorrow's opening of the ninety-minute explodathon, long dreamt of in my youth, I bring you the following YouTube movie. Not only is it pretty funny, but the fact that it includes a sports-training montage set to Marky Mark's version of "The Touch," from the original version, makes this pretty tubular. That's right...I'm bringing back "tubular." Deal with it.
Enjoy.
Thanks go to Jen for reminding me of how tubular that song is.
"You can't tweeze a gray hair...you know that will kill a midget, come on! And you can't kill a midget, cuz that's where our dreams are kept, in their heads!"
- Dave Attell, in his comedy special Captain Miserable
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