The Ballpoint Banana

On Songs Stuck In My Head*

2011-09-07T20:41:00.004-05:00

*Attention, SAT word inventors: the English language is sorely lacking a word that means "a song stuck in my head." Please get cracking on it. Thank you. Also, this post apparently is leaning heavily on parenthetical asides, which I generally find disruptive to the flow of prose but was unable to lay off of tonight. My apologies.

It is now time to get back to one of the grandest, least commented upon traditions on this blog: overanalyzing pop music. I'm not entirely sure what drives me to obsessively hone in on every tiny little element I like and don't like in music, but it's there, it's not going away, so I just accept it and deal.

The result of this obsession and my unwillingness to fight it is that I am particularly vulnerable to song-stuck-in-headedness (again, need a nice, tight vocab word to express this phrase more naturally. The College Board, this is where you can give back after taking so, so much.) As I have so much experience with the phenomenon, I am working on a taxonomy of songs stuck in the head. It is still a work in progress, but I thought I'd give you a few archetypes I have experienced lately:

1. Songs you'd rather not admit you know all the words to: Singing, humming, bobbing, or mild dancing is never acceptable in public and already subjects the person to more than their fair share of public scorn. "Look at that rube," the public thinks, "singing and dancing and humming as if he enjoys music. Who enjoys music these days? What's up with that?" I generally find this baffling and chalk it up to people's primal urge to destroy anyone that they perceive might be having more fun than them (see also: war on drugs, war on sex, and basically wars in general). This public scorn is and should be intensified if the person is mouthing all of the words to "Always" by Erasure, for example. This is the most dreaded type of song to get stuck in your head.

2. Songs you only know the chorus to or songs with very few lyrics: Another deadly category, this applies mostly to catchy songs with choruses that are repeated a zillion times in its 3 minute duration, leaving you with only enough to repeat a tiny song fragment periodically for all of eternity, or at least the afternoon. It's the aural equivalent of Chinese Water Torture. It's annoying for the person with it stuck in their head, but truly pity their poor, poor coworkers who have to spend every second of the 30 minute van ride listening to them sing the chorus to "Private Eyes" or "Turn to Stone" endlessly. "I Got My Mind Set On You" fits the bill as well.

3. Songs with no words at all: "Walk, Don't Run" and "Classical Gas" just aren't the same when they're whistled.

4. Songs no one else has ever heard of: "It's 'Cruel To Be Kind.'" "No, Nick Lowe." "Sometime in the early seventies, I think." "Yes, I'm aware you weren't born then; I wasn't either, but I still know it." "Seriously, what is weird about this? It was a hit song. It plays on the radio. It's pop culture. I shouldn't have to explain any of this."

5. Songs that you cannot sing out loud in public: Either the lyrics are incredibly offensive or completely gender inappropriate. This happened to me today. On the way to a department wide meeting, the insidious bastards at G101.3 decided to play "Hips Don't Lie." I know enough of it to sing through a bit, but something is lost when I sing Shakira's part, and I'm reasonably sure that directing any of my coworkers to keep on reading the signs of my body is a recipe for all kinds of trouble. This category also applies to Christmas songs when it isn't Christmas season.

New Adventures in Acne Treatment

2011-08-30T20:15:00.003-05:00

I hate zits. I used to get them all the time, but then I found the miracle of Panoxyl 5% bars, which appeared to be benzoyl peroxide mixed into a bar of soap that you use on your face. What I loved about Panoxyl was its refusal to do anything outside of destroying the zits on your face. There were no lame moisturizers or lotions or anything else that would make your face feel not dried out. No, Panoxyl was all like, "We are going to dry every bit of moisture and oil out of your face until the zits shrivel up and die. Don't go out in the sun, but if you do, rest assured that the zits will be fried right off of your face, and the sunburn will heal in time." Yes, it was quite the product.

Then it was cruelly taken off the market. I should have been forewarned of this development, as I got an email at work saying that the pharmacy would be unable to get it anymore, but I took that to mean the hospital pharmacy wasn't going to restock, not that the product was disappearing from existence. Had I realized that, rest assured I would have started hoarding bars like Elaine Benes with the Today Sponges.

Today, after fighting a losing battle against the zits for a couple weeks, I decided it was time to go shopping for a new acne face wash. Into Walgreens I walk, looking mostly disgusting since I had just finished mowing the lawn and was about to take a shower when I realized I needed the zit soap. The massive, sensory overload inducing Skin Care aisle assaults my eyes as soon as I walk in. Judging its size, prominent position in the store, and the fact that it has its own checkout counter, I imagine the skin care department is responsible for at least 75% of Walgreen's sales. This imagining is confirmed, as my slight pause in the skin care aisle elicits an immediate "Are you looking for something in particular?" from the sales girl behind the special skin care checkout area. She must have thought I was lost, which would make sense, as approximately 90% of skin care products have some form of female model on the label. Instead, I immediately answer "Acne soap!" and she goes to the end of the aisle and says "All of our products are right in this section. Is there a certain kind you prefer?"

"Well," I say, "Panoxyl worked wonders for me, but it's off the market now," and begin shaking my fist at the sky. Seriously. I actually did that.

"Yeah, I've heard a lot of complaints about that, actually." I look at her, and she has nary any sort of blemish, zit, pimple, blackhead, facial scar, anything. I begin to doubt her expertise on acne products, but press on. Eventually, after she gives favorable reviews on Clearasil's Daily Face Wash, I buy it, despite two reservations, which I voice:

1. The active ingredient is salicylic acid, which I find to be less effective.
2. It says 2%, which is clearly 3% less than the 5% I had with Panoxyl. I don't care that the active ingredients are different; I need my percentages to match up.

During my purchase, I notice my friendly sales associate's actual title is "Senior Beauty Adviser," despite the fact that she looked all of 23, maybe. This means she either really knows her skin care, and has thus maintained the look of a 23ish person despite having 25 hard years' experience at the skin care grind, or, like me, she was given a job title that will require some explanation on any future resumes. Yes, unbeknownst to most, I am actually a Senior Rehab Therapist at the hospital, despite being the youngest and least tenured member of the department. I assume it's the latter rather than the former, and thus feel reassured that I'm buying acne soap from someone who, like me, is obviously a straight-shooter with upper management potential.

As for the actual product, it smells strongly of menthol and burns like a mother if it gets in your eyes, which is a problem since I tend to get zits on the side of my nose. My face doesn't feel completely dried out, so I'm not sold on the effectiveness, but only time will tell in that regard. Most importantly, my Senior Beauty Adviser has assured me that if I am not 100% satisfied with my new zit soap regimen, I may return it for a full refund. That's the kind of quality customer service that gets you Seniority status straight out of high school, for sure.

I'll keep everyone posted on the results, as this is obviously the hard-hitting investigative consumer reporting you come to this blog for.

On Acceptable Blog Content

2011-08-29T20:36:00.003-05:00

What makes blogging awesome is that it's free (good for my currently income-challenged state), it allows me to have some semblance of a social life (in the form of regular commenters I will probably never meet but can still claim as friends), and provides me with an outlet to show the world how oh-so-clever and quirky I am (with the accompanying ego-massage a happy side-effect).

What sucks about blogging is that since I don't have one of those popular, daily, laser-focused blogs about a specific topic, I'm forced to search and scrape for material. Now, I could start one of these blogs and get a sizable readership if I simply commented on Judge Parker every day, but if there's one thing blogging has taught me, it's that I really don't have the attention span to write a post every single day, so I continue with my own minor obsessions.

The main problem is that most of my obsessions are, how you say, uninteresting to most people, or at least to the people I know read my blog, and I'm simply too considerate of a host to bore you all with why I think the vast majority of my fellow Colts fans are morons, for example. I've also learned to never, ever write a blog post about people I actually know, because boy howdy will it make me look foolish in a few years. And since I work at a hospital, I've stopped writing about professional foibles, as it would be frowned upon, even though I've always snipped names and confidential information. Plus, after five years, working with the mentally ill is no longer the new and exciting adventure it was when I first started.

The other major pitfall of my blogging style is that it is my overarching goal to appear happily deranged, rather than disturbingly deranged. This is tricky because I literally have no idea how many of my quirks are socially acceptable. For example, last Friday, I couldn't find my work keys, and while I was asking a coworker to let me in my office, he asked if I checked the pants that I wore yesterday and I reflexively answered "These are the pants I wore yesterday" before I could consider whether or not most people actually wear their pants 2 or 3 times before they wash them. I don't know. Apparently not, as he kind of chuckled and said, "Yeah, I've done that a couple times myself if I think they didn't get too dirty or anything." So, note to self: never admit you wear pants multiple times again.

So, basically, my posts are limited to

A) Bizarre, but funny, things I think about.
B) Strange random encounters I have with odd people in public places.
C) Interesting hobbies.

Choice C is going to be the sticking point. Right now, my hobbies are pretty uninteresting, and would probably reveal way, way too much about my nerdy loser core. For example, no one wants to read a blog post about how my party in Secret of the Silver Blades won an epic battle over Marcus the Archmage, despite his medusae turning three of my fighters to stone. If you do, well, I certainly don't want to write it, so I'm afraid you'll be left wanting. Similarly, I'm not sure the unwritten blog post "My Dog Keeps Jumping On Me Even Though I Ignore Her When She Does" is going to be one for the Greatest Hits reel.

So, I must find some new form of hobbies, preferably ones that involve strange and interesting people to interact with. Frontrunners include joining a community choir, finding out if the Richmond Symphony Orchestra allows Mellophonists in, trying to start an angry letter-writing campaign demanding the inclusion of mellophones in the RSO, and obtaining a mellophone and honing my somewhat rusty mellophone skills (I still remember all of the fingerings and can play "When the Saints Go Marching In," at least, and in my experience mellophone parts were never overly complicated). Since the mellophone angle sounds like a bit of an expensive long-shot, I think I'll take the choir route.

On Hand Drying

2011-08-22T19:55:00.002-05:00

I'm not sure when the hygienic ritual of hand-washing after using the bathroom started, although I believe it is outlined in Leviticus somewhere. Unfortunately for God's Chosen People and all subsequent generations, Moses did not specify proper drying techniques while outlining the procedures for purifying one's self after a bowel movement, and the result has been the erratic and counter-productive evolution of the hand drying industry. Truly, no aspect of everyday life is as much of a testament to the coming Idiocracy than paper towel dispensing.

Back in olden times, paper towels were dispensed via a stainless steel box attached to the wall with a sloped slot at the bottom. The box was filled with paper towels that were folded in such a way that one would come out through the sloped slot at a time, providing the user with a hands free dispensing system. If one's hands were still wet after using a paper towel, one simply grabbed another. To reload the dispenser, one just put more towels on top of the existing towels, or dropped a new set in and pulled the first one out to get the set started. This system is known as the "tri-fold" and it is no longer used anywhere except for that church your mom goes to that hasn't been remodeled since 1971.

Then, one day, a man thought, "My hands are still wet even though I already used a paper towel," became outraged, and rather than simply getting another paper towel, devised a new system to dispense however much paper towelage one requires. I'm not sure on this, because I wasn't there, but I believe his system used a roll of towels instead of individual towels folded over each other and employed a crank to dispense them. Now a person needed to expend manual labor to crank out as much towel before tearing off the towel on the jagged edge. Reloading became slightly more difficult, as the roller apparatus needed to be disassembled to fit a new roll in and the towel needed to be loaded so it would unroll a certain way and needed to be fed through the dispenser or else it would jam, resulting in no towels for anyone.

This system eventually would be replaced after a cranky teacher aide for the second graders complained about all the paper towels the boys wasted in the bathroom and devised a new dispenser, the lever. To work the lever, one simply pulls a lever down on the front of the dispenser, similar to the lever on a toaster, and a paper towel is dispensed so the user can tear it off. This allowed the teacher aide to tell the boys they couldn't get more than two lengths, and allowed the 2nd graders to hold the paper towel in the dispenser and pump the lever until it jammed, then pulled out a huge length of paper towels that was scrunched up like an accordion, much to the dismay of the T.A. Also, with even more internal moving parts, the possibility for something to break or go wrong was increased again.

It wasn't until The Wussiest Generation took power that a new revolution would come in paper towel dispensing. The Wussiest Generation, seeing the potential for germs to spread on the handle of the paper towel dispenser that had just been touched by people who had, uh, just washed their hands, devised bold, new designs that would allow the paper to be dispensed automatically so that all the person had to do was pull down. These designs always failed miserably, and the towel jamming in the dispenser was so common that all of them had troubleshooting guides to tell you exactly how to unjam it, usually involving a complicated system of buttons and wheels that needed to be pressed and turned. Still, a small price to pay to stop the spread of cholera.

Then, one day, the finishing touch was applied to paper towel dispensing when a brave corporate drone realized that while we had succeeded in making paper towel dispensers less hygienic, more likely to break, and less convenient in the past few decades, we as of yet had not found a way to make them waste electricity. And so, the motion detector was added to the paper towel dispenser, opening up the possibility of dead batteries, motion sensing errors, and undetectable jams to all of the other problems created. Still, a hard fought victory was won, and the people now had a paper towel dispensing system that did not require them touching anything that someone else had touched, required no work on the part of the user, and dispensed a set amount of paper towel to reduce waste. Just like the tri-fold dispenser at your mom's church, only dumber, more wasteful, and much more likely to break.

Did the Soviets ever agree to share that Punch Computer technology?

2011-08-16T20:41:00.003-05:00

Remember my ongoing quest to watch all of the Best Picture Oscar winners? It continues, and I am current through 1953's From Here to Eternity. It has truly been one of the better ideas I have ever had and has enriched my life greatly.

How has it enriched my life? Well, that's hard to define. I have more emotional range? I think about issues I didn't think about before? My horizons are broadened? I have a better appreciation of movies as art? I get cultural in-jokes that went over my head previously?

While thinking about how I would convince someone that watching a bunch of old movies is worth their time, it occurred to me that I need some concrete, real-world benefits from my movie watching to point to. And so I begin a new project, probably to be never mentioned again and forgotten after this post, to find a way to use the movies I watch to improve my life. We start with the iconic winner from 1976, Rocky.

Unlike most viewers, I feel the real take-home message from this picture is that the key to success is to make yourself as miserable as possible and give yourself every possible disadvantage. Rocky trains by beating up cow carcasses hanging in a butcher's freezer. In the third installment, he leaves his state-of-the-art fancy pants personal training center to train with Apollo Creed in the disgusting gym populated by, horror of horrors, poor black boxers who have nothing except for the Eye of the Tiger. In Rocky IV, he jogs up and down mountain in Siberia while coddled nancy boy Ivan Drago runs on a treadmill with electrodes taped to him and uses the Soviet version of the Commodore 64 home computing system to analyze his punching power.

As such, today I stocked my garage with an exercise mat, resistance bands, and a set of 20 lb dumbbells to form a very primitive gym. As my garage is not remotely climate controlled, it frequently reaches temperatures approaching 100 with little air circulation to be found. I shall now begin my routine of working out in these intolerable conditions (with nary an electrode to be found, mind you) until I have the physical and mental strength to almost but not quite succeed at, um, something or other. I seem to have forgotten that I have to have a goal in place first, but then again, that was never a problem for Rocky. In fact, Rocky was pretty much a loser with absolutely nothing going for him until Apollo offered him the exhibition match. New plan: I'm going to continue being a loser with very little going for me until I receive the opportunity of a lifetime, at which point I will begin using my miserable new hot garage gym to gain the ability to succeed, only to just barely fall short. Inspiring.

Brave New Blogger

2011-08-15T22:17:00.004-05:00

Today in a comment, Liz mentioned that it was great to have me back in the blogging community. Unfortunately, she spoke too soon, for I'm afraid a lot has changed in the past 4 years or so. I am no longer the carefree, optimistic, and endearingly self-absorbed goofball I was in 2007 or whenever it was this blog used to be updated. No, no, this is not a return to my former whimsical glory; rather, it is a gritty, tortured reboot of the blog, sharing (for now) only the silly name in common with its predecessor, like the blogosphere's version of Funky Winkerbean.

You see, deep dark themes are taking over. For example, back in 2007, I was relatively convinced that if politicians I liked and supported could only get elected somehow, then maybe our country's rapid descent into hell could be reversed, or at least somewhat slowed. Now, I'm faced with the fact that we have a president who I voted for twice, who went to every length on the campaign trail to prove that he cared about issues I care about, and who has gone on to continue virtually every bad idea I voted for him to change. I can only assume this was by design, and that I actually live in a one-party police state whose main priorities involve transferring wealth from the poor to the rich and providing all of the deltas with enough soma to keep them from storming the gates. Somehow this involves baseless acts of aggression against countries who have oil; the basic calculus of the plot is unfortunately beyond my grasp.

Next, I had ingenious plots once upon a time. When I started at the state hospital, I had a bold vision, a master plan. At the time, there were big rumors about the hospital privatizing, which had everyone living in a state of fear and anxiety except for me. I figured if the hospital privatized, people would leave, there would be more positions open that required 4 year degrees, and since I was one of the few people who had one, and I already had a foot in the door, I'd be first in line. Well, the hospital never privatized, but my general plan to get a foot in the door and step into the first opening that appeared eventually proved fruitful, albeit I had to get my foot in a few more doors before it happened. Now, I have a rather enjoyable job, which compensates me fairly; my youthful optimism has since morphed into garden variety middle-class ennui. Which, obviously, is much less fun to write about, and even less fun to read about, which is why this paragraph is ending right now.

Moving on, I'm not even youthful anymore. Now, I have always been old for my age, as my extensive collection of board games and earlier comment about a newspaper soap opera comic can attest, but now my age is actually catching up with my oldness. I soon will no longer be in the "hip kid in his twenties" demographic and will be moving into the "trying too hard guy in his thirties" demographic. While I don't mind being the butt of jokes, I generally prefer that the jokes in question be mine.

So with no further ado, the management will announce the following changes to the blog:

1. We will now refer to ourselves in the plural, like royalty. We will also occasionally refer to ourselves in the third person as "the management." We feel this pompous tone gives us that extra gravitas that such a serious endeavor as this blog should command.

2. We shall be changing the title of the blog from "The Ballpoint Banana" to rid ourselves of the blog's connection to the insipid and frivolous Batman: The Movie from 1966. The new title of the blog shall be "Why So Serious?" which we are told is from the second installment of the very dark and gritty critically-acclaimed reboot of the Batman franchise.

3. The color scheme shall be changed, hopefully to something involving black, silver, and red, to further illustrate how mature and serious the blog is.

4. "Monday Morning YouTube" will be replaced with "Monday Morning Leonard Cohen Lyrics."

5. The management will no longer chronicle their sartorial selections, as the new dress code of the blog will consist of black turtlenecks and only black turtlenecks.

6. All readers and commenters shall be addressed in the most condescending and dismissive manner possible, as none of you can possibly grasp the seriousness of all this seriousness.

So, we hope you "enjoy" our new format, although we suspect most of the readers will be put out, as most would prefer to live in their deluded, sheltered state rather than stare deeply into the face of the cruel, cold world in which we live.

Bullets of Filler Material

2011-08-12T19:36:00.004-05:00

Blogging is hard, and I remember now how much I suck at it. Until something sufficiently wacky and interesting happens, we resort to the dreaded bulleted list.

Bullet No. 1: I took my car to my mechanic to get my tire patched and plugged. He took one look at the pathetic, treadless slab of rubber I dragged in, had pity on me, and informed me that the tire was not worth the $15 I was about to put into it. I explained that I didn't have any money for a full set and just needed something to get me a drivable vehicle again. After inspecting my car and his used tire selection, he found two almost but not quite as bad used tires and discovered that my high quality rear tires could be rotated to the front while his used tires could work fine in the back, and then did it all for $30, cutting me a nice deal because "You've thrown a lot of business my way," which is a nice way of saying "Thank you for driving shitty death traps." So a big shout out and thank you to my friends at Ronan's in Richmond.

Bullet No. 2: I just walked to the VP down the block and purchased a Powerball ticket and a $3 bottle of clearanced wine (Gallo Family Vineyards Chardonnay). Convenience store professionals refer to this combo as "The Cry For Help."

Bullet No. 3: My other ancient car, the 1990 Plymouth Horizon, also has a flat tire from the alley debris from the idiot across the alley. Unfortunately, due to the advanced state of rust on the lugnuts, I am unable to change it myself. "But Andy," you say, "just loosen the lugnuts before you jack it up." Oh, I tried. It turns out, all evidence to the contrary, I am actually strong enough to lift the car off the ground and spin the tire before the lugnuts will loosen. On the plus side, this means I can probably carry the car to the mechanic with relative ease.

Bullet No. 4: If this clearanced wine is at all drinkable, every one of siblings is getting a bottle for Christmas.

Bullet No. 5: Blogger's examples of post labels, known as "tags" to people who actually speak Internet, are "scooters, vacation, fall." I'm going on record right now by saying that taking a scooter vacation in the fall would be a ton of fun. Unless by "fall" they mean "falling off the scooter." That would be less fun.

Bullet No. 6: Speaking of scooters, I went running the other day. I ran by a group of people congregating outside of a garage. One of them yelled, "There goes killer! Watch out, don't fall!" at me, I assume, as there were no other people on the street. I was utterly confused until I saw that he rode in on a scooter, and thus was probably intoxicated. I should refer him to the VP, or better yet, trade him a case of my clearance wine for his scooter.

Bullet No. 7: The VP also has Mad Dog 20/20 on clearance. Dad will be getting one of those.

My Name is Andy

2011-08-10T22:22:00.007-05:00

The past few weeks have been full of struggles. And minor catastrophes. And a couple major catastrophes. And setbacks. Oh Lordy, how there have been setbacks. Indeed, by any objective measure, this has been the most backsetting month of my life, with no end in sight. It has gotten to the point where after every soul-crushing setback, I wait for the other shoe to drop, which it invariably does, repeatedly, again and again and on and on, as if I'm being trod upon by a dancing 8-legged OctoGiant. Times are tough, as they say.

I won't bore you with all the gory details of the problems afflicting my normally idyllic existence, which are legion. Instead, it occurred to me today, while I was climbing through the backseat of my Nissan to manually unlatch the trunk from the inside so I could change the tire that had flattened after I ran over a piece of stray brick from my idiot neighbor's overflowing shed of garbage, that I have a simple, easily solvable case of Bad Karma, and, as such, need to find the source of the bad karma and address it. I have been racking my brain all evening in search of the origin of the malaise, my unforgivable sin that spawned a thousand tears. And while it may be simply a side effect from the mild concussion I suffered after I was able to unlatch the trunk only to not push the trunk door up far enough for the pneumatic device to catch and hold it causing it to fall back down upon my then extended head, but I think I've found the offending action.

Three weeks ago, on July 21, I was at CVS with very limited cash on hand buying some necessary supplies when the associate pointed out that they were running a charity to buy and send sunglasses to soldiers in Iraq. I politely declined to participate and silently went all Ebenezer Scrooge on the concept in my head. "I'm sorry, but did we suddenly slash our defense budget so much that the military is relying on me to pay an extra dollar for the cheapest possible sunglasses on top of the massive tax money they already receive? And even so, soldiers are compensated fairly, so shouldn't my charity dollars go to people who have little or nothing or lack the ability to provide for themselves? And also, soldiers chose to go to Iraq. Shouldn't they be prepared to deal with the sun?" I left the store feeling absolutely no guilt or remorse about the affair, forgetting that I had once decided as a rule to never refuse help when it was asked of me and I was able to pitch in.

What I didn't realize is that somewhere in Iraq, a soldier who sends most of his money home to provide for his sickly mother, his pregnant wife, and his adorable two year old was unable to purchase sunglasses from the PX and, while patrolling the desert, eyes dried and scratching from the sand and the heat, shook his fist at the sky and cursed the man responsible for his unfortunate situation.

And so tomorrow, between tire repairs and work, I must venture forth on a noble quest to win a stay from the onslaught of karmic retribution coming my way. If CVS is no longer participating in the charity, I have no idea how to make amends. If the three seasons of My Name is Earl I watched are any indication, wacky hijinx and unforeseen complications will arise. But I remain resolute. Sunglasses for the masses, says I.

Best of the Bads

2009-09-17T20:55:00.005-05:00

Today while on break with Kelli, I found the newest addition to my playing card collection: Disney Villain Cards. This led me to start thinking about who would be my favorite Disney villain of all-time.

But first, let's eliminate some obvious also-rans:

1. Prince John (Robin Hood): Not entirely fair to the Prince, since Robin Hood is more about the team of good guys v the team of bad guys. However, I think Rule 1 of villains should be that they are a fair match for the hero, and since Prince John's defining characteristics are greed and incompetence, I just don't think he measures up. Worse, Prince John gets upstaged by his henchmen, Sir Hiss and the Sheriff of Nottingham, who is so impressive of a henchman that he gets his own henchmen.

2. MAN (Bambi): MAN is scary and destructive enough, and certainly causes enough evil, what with the burning down the forest and killing Bambi's mom and all. However, MAN is portrayed in the movie by a 3-note motif, and I think I'm looking for something a little more corporeal. Oddly enough, MAN didn't make the playing cards. I guess "dun dunnn DUNNNN ::cymbal crash::" was a little too hard to illustrate.

3. The Queen/Witch (Snow White): Probably the most evil of the evil villains, so evil in fact that she has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I feel like the audience should kind of like the villain and sort of hope he prevails at some point. The Evil Queen hires an assassin to cut out Snow White's heart and bring it back in a golden box. It's just hard to get behind that sort of monster.

So, that leave me with this top five:

5. Cruella De Vil:

Pros: Has a catchy ditty written about her. Friends with the human protagonists. Has hilarious henchemn. Drives a cool car and smokes cigarettes with a holder. Dedicated.

Cons: Wants to kill puppies. You can never cheer for people who want to kill puppies, unless you are an Eagles fan.

4. Jafar:

Pros: Ridiculously powerful. High standing as Vizier, lots of wealth, magic powers, etc etc, making him perfect foil for penniless Aladdin. Friends with Gilbert Gottfried. Gets to say the awesome line, "There is a cave, boy; a cave of WONDERS!" The one villain to survive the movie.

Cons: Not particularly charismatic. No music number. Also, how did he lose? Really. He was already basically running the kingdom, because Lord knows that bumbling Sultan wasn't doing it. I mean, really, he can hypnotize people. Why didn't he just hypnotize Jasmine into marrying him? Or hypnotize whatever dolt she would eventually be forced to marry? Seems there were easier solutions to his problem than seeking out the cave of wonders.

3. Ursula the Sea Witch:

Pros: Runs a legitimate business that takes advantage of saps. Intelligent. Charming to the point of unctuousness. Also contains one of the creepier henchmen, Flotsam and Jetsam.

Cons: Do we ever know what she does with the poor unfortunate souls once she turns them into creepy green plant things? I'm a little bit confused by her tactics.

(Didn't know whether to include Pixar movies or not. If I would have, 3rd place would've been occupied by Syndrome from The Incredibles)

2. Scar:

Pros: Sarcastic, rude, funny, willing to break the rules. Would've been the best uncle ever if it weren't for the whole line-of-succession-based assassination plot.

Cons: Hopelessly overmatched and outnumbered once Simba returns. Plus, he's not...

1. Gaston:

Turns out this was an easy choice, because I decided that Gaston was pretty much right all the way through. Look at the facts:

A. Gaston is successful at everything. He is the best hunter, best fighter, best at everything. He's going to have an excellent life ahead of him. People don't usually get to be liked by EVERYONE by being a jerk. Just sayin.

B. Gaston could've had any woman in town, but he's a one woman man. Sure, he may be a bit superficial, but then, Belle is the heroine for a reason: she really IS the best girl in the village. Gaston merely recognizes this, and, being the best himself, he knows he deserves the best. Even Maurice recognizes this.

C. Belle chooses the Beast over him. I think it's important to remember that the Beast was turned into a Beast because he was the biggest asshole on the face of the planet. And let's not pretend like the Beast was all nice when they met either. She was willing to give the Beast a chance despite the whole imprisoning her forever, but wouldn't give Gaston a chance because he's a bit superficial and not interested in literature? Perhaps she's not so good at looking past the surface herself. In additon, the nice sweet gesture that made her see the good in him? He didn't let her get eaten by wolves. I wouldn't let my least favorite person on the planet get eaten by wolves if I could prevent it. It doesn't exactly take a big dose of empathy for one to stop wolf-maulings.

D. His one "malicious" act is trying to get Maurice committed. As a mental health professional, I'm thinking that if someone were building insane contraptions in their basement that has a tendency to blow up their house from time to time, and even when they work, still involve rickety parts swinging sharp axes at perilous speeds and flipping logs in random directions, they qualify as a danger to themselves and others. So he greased a few palms to get his point across. He at least isn't attempting to murder anyone.

E. As for trying to kill the Beast, I think the larger point that the Beast kidnapped two citizens of the town shouldn't be overlooked. Yes, he let her go, but only when he saw that her father was dying, and the Beast's behavior at best can be called "erratic." Gaston may have gone a bit overboard, but his basic stance, that the Beast could be considered a threat to the town, was valid.

F. And then there's this:

A song and dance number. In 6/8 time. Gaston is the best and the rest are the drips.

One Song I Heard On the Radio and One Song I Heard on the Radio on a Videogame

2009-09-09T22:35:00.004-05:00

Compare and contrast two songs with highly catchy music and lyrics of varying degrees of quality:

"Umbrella," Rihanna:

This song has the dumbest, worst conceived lyrics of any song, maybe ever. They aren't even Jim Steinman-esque Awesomely Bad. They are just terrible, and here is why: Every songwriter and lyricist has to resort to the occasional cliche, just like every songwriter eventually cribs from the Beatles. We understand this. We forgive it.

What we do not forgive is when you have insipid cliched lyric after insipid cliched lyric and don't even bother to make sure they rhyme. Or in some cases have anything to do with each other. Observe the amazing chorus of this masterpiece:

When the sun shines we'll shine together
Told you I'll be here forever
Said I'll always be your friend
Took an oath, I'ma stick it out to the end

Now that it's raining more than ever
Know that we'll still have each other
You can stand under my umbrella
You can stand under my umbrella.

I suppose technically "Forever" and "Ever" rhyme. And they did manage to get that highly imaginative "friend/end" combo in there, I'm assuming by accident. But ever/other/umbrella... that's just not even close. The whole thing is compounded by the fact that "umbrella" isn't exactly an easy word to sing, and therefore Rihanna has to add an extra syllable to it just to get it to fit. My favorite part, outside of the use of the word "I'ma", is that they flat out admit they've got nothing and just repeat the last line at the end.

The wonderful thing is it took 4 people to write this work of art. Good work, all.

"One Step Forward," Desert Rose Band:

You know that story about how Paul Simon wrote "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" to teach his kid how to rhyme? I'm thinking Desert Rose Band used this song to teach their kids opposites, because I'll be damned if they don't include every set of antonyms in the Songwriting For Dummies handbook. I would like to make fun of it, but I can't, because they fit them all in such perfect rhythm and rhyme over a catchy melody. I mean, you have to respect their dedication to the theme of the song. "We're using opposites, and we will keep using opposites until we have three and a half minutes worth of music." And just to keep us guessing, they alternate the position of the good and the bad one. They even dug deep and pulled out this combo:

You were my fever and my cure
Made me doubt and you made me sure

I mean, if you had me list about 20 opposites off the top of my head, those two sets wouldn't come up, and they fit so easily together.

So, see, Rihanna's gigantic songwriting committee? You can be cliched and not suck. You just have to do it with a bit of panache. That's all.

And Another Thing!

2009-08-25T21:00:00.003-05:00

My Fair Lady wasn't even the best MUSICAL of 1964! How does My Fair Lady beat out Mary Poppins?

Really. Are there any lines in My Fair Lady as awesome as "Feed the birds and what have you got? Fat birds!" I'm also fond of the insane naval commander who lives next door and inexplicably fires his cannon at random things. Plus, Julie Andrews did her own singing. Audrey Hepburn, not so much.

Clean Up

2009-08-19T20:37:00.003-05:00

Let's see, where was I?

Oh right.

The Silence of the Lambs (1991): I watched this movie by myself, in the middle of the night, in my giant, cavernous apartment, with no lights on, and boy howdy was it creepy. It deserved every award it got. And then some, probably. I think this movie has no flaws whatsoever, but I still find it inferior to Rain Man. Moving on.

No Country For Old Men (2007): The Coen Brothers weren't shafted! 11 years later, they get their rightful due they were screwed out of when Fargo didn't win. I think I would've liked this one more if I didn't know the Coens made it. I kept waiting for the quirkiness to step in, but just found mountains of unrelenting evil and death. Oh well. I prefer a little comedic relief in my drama, like, for instance, an autistic man who only flies on Quantas. Moving on.

Slumdog Millionaire (2008): Somewhere, somebody must have said, "You know, Andy tries to watch all of the Best Pictures, so let's tailor a movie to his particular tastes and see if we can unseat Rain Man." "Good idea," says his partner, "but what does he like?" "Foreign cultures!" "Flashbacks!" "Organized crime!" "Elegantly intertwining storylines!" "Happy endings!" "Hilarious bits mixed in with serious, heart-rending bits." "Great. Anythin else?" "Game shows!" "Wait, how can we work game shows into this?" Thus, the challenge was laid down, and from this spitballing session came Slumdog Millionaire, complete with game shows, and yes, I did in fact love every second of this movie. If they had remembered "mental illnesses," it might have actually succeeded in unseating Rain Man. Maybe next time, movie producers.

It Happened One Night! (1934): So I was looking on Turner Classic Movies On Demand the other night, and It Happened One Night! was listed. At first I felt it was kind of cliched, but then I realized in 1934 there weren't cliches yet and that pretty much every romantic comedy since has copied its formula, and since I love Frank Capra, I let it go. Pretty enjoyable little flick. In other news, did Clark Gable always look that pissed? A quick Yahoo image search reveals, yeah. Pretty much. Also, one thing I did NOT expect to see was the ending from SpaceBalls sneakily cribbed from this movie, almost line for line. Seriously. And as far as I know, no one else realized that either. Kudos to Mr. Brooks.

Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Quit Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964): HOW IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS HOLY DID THIS MASTERPIECE LOSE TO MY FAIR FUCKING LADY????? More to come in a following blog post dedicated entirely to why Dr. Strangelove is awesome and My Fair Lady is inawesome, which is a word I just made up. It shall feature lots of capital letters, multiple punctuation marks to end sentences, and possibly some bold print. Along with profanity. When some people think about what they would do if they could go back in time they think of preventing the Holocaust, or changing major mistakes they made in their lives. Me? I want to make Dr. Strangelove win in '64.

In other news, Rain Man is awesome.

So, let's look at the Big Board (don't let the Russian Ambassador in):

2008 Slumdog Millionaire*
2007 No Country For Old Men*
2006 The Departed*
2005 Crash*
2004 Million Dollar Baby*
2003 The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
2002 Chicago
2001 A Beautiful Mind*
2000 Gladiator
1999 American Beauty
1998 Shakespeare in Love
1997 Titanic
1996 The English Patient
1995 Braveheart
1994 Forrest Gump
1993 Schindler's List
1992 Unforgiven*
1991 Silence of the Lambs
1990 Dances with Wolves
1989 Driving Miss Daisy
1988 Rain Man*
1987 The Last Emperor
1986 Platoon*
1985 Out of Africa
1984 Amadeus
1983 Terms of Endearment
1982 Gandhi
1981 Chariots of Fire
1980 Ordinary People
1979 Kramer Vs. Kramer
1978 The Deer Hunter*
1977 Annie Hall
1976 Rocky
1975 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest*
1974 The Godfather Part II*
1973 The Sting*
1972 The Godfather*
1971 The French Connection
1970 Patton
1969 Midnight Cowboy
1968 Oliver!
1967 In the Heat of the Night*
1966 A Man for All Seasons
1965 The Sound of Music
1964 My Fair Lady
1963 Tom Jones
1962 Lawrence of Arabia*
1961 West Side Story
1960 The Apartment
1959 Ben-Hur
1958 Gigi
1957 The Bridge on the River Kwai*
1956 Around the World in 80 Days
1955 Marty
1954 On the Waterfront
1953 From Here to Eternity
1952 The Greatest Show on Earth
1951 An American in Paris
1950 All About Eve
1949 All the King's Men
1948 Hamlet
1947 Gentleman's Agreement
1946 The Best Years of Our Lives
1945 The Lost Weekend
1944 Going My Way
1943 Casablanca
1942 Mrs. Miniver
1941 How Green Was My Valley
1940 Rebecca
1939 Gone With the Wind
1938 You Can't Take It With You
1937 The Life of Emile Zola
1936 The Great Ziegfeld
1935 Mutiny on the Bounty
1934 It Happened One Night*
1933 Cavalcade
1932 Grand Hotel
1931 Cimarron
1930 All Quiet on the Western Front
1929 The Broadway Melody
1928 Sunrise
1927 Wings

Next up: Annie Hall (1977)

Announcement

2009-06-30T13:55:00.003-05:00

Kelli and I are getting married on Aug. 1. It will be a good time.

When Real Life Makes Me Surly...

2009-05-11T22:39:00.002-05:00

...I bitch about unrelated things. With extra ellipses, apparently.

And today, despite the fact that I voted for him twice, I think I'm giving up on President Obama. I have stopped believing in the change. Perhaps I was blinded by the fact that Hillary was trying to court racist republican voters instead of me.

The deficit is still growing so we can throw extra money to investment bankers and encourage people to buy houses, despite the fact that shifty investing and an artificially inflated demand for houses was a major cause for this mess.

We're still kicking gays our of the military for being gay. Go progress.

We're still torturing people.

We're still paying for health care.

But on the plus side, I did get an extra $40 every paycheck. Whoop dee damn do.

Mr. President, Mr. Bush has retired. With the worst approval ratings ever. You do not, and probably should not, follow his example. Just a thought. But thanks for giving me a short break from my real life problems. I appreciate it.

Time to Play Catch-Up

2009-05-04T18:40:00.002-05:00

I've got a lot of things to talk about here, so let's get to the bullets:

1. Dick Clark. I watched a rerun of $100,000 Pyramid on GSN the other night, during which Dick Clark took a good 90 seconds to try to figure out how the contestant and celebrity partner whose turn just finished could've gotten the word "Mango." He involved the judges and everything on what would be and would not be allowed to be said as clues. Sure, Dick Clark most assuredly enjoyed hosting the show, but you can tell just by watching it that he really, really wanted to be a celebrity contestant. He thus went through life cursed with seeing the thing he wanted most every day but couldn't get it. Quite sad, really.

2. Peanut butter crackers. You know those peanut butter on cheese crackers sandwiches? The bright orange kind? Who thought of those? How did he do it? Was he sitting around one day, eating a peanut butter sandwich and suddenly think, "You know what would taste good on this? A piece of cheese," at which point snack conventions as we knew them changed forever? Cheese and peanut butter. How? It boggles my feeble little mind.

3. Monopoly. I lost to Kelli. Badly. It was a rout. She was making trades with me out of pity. My mojo is gone. Notice how I bury this halfway down the post. Moving on.

4. Money. I have none. Lots of student loans came due, and so now I have to look at a career change or going to school again. It sorta sucks because I enjoy what I do and I am very good at it. Lucky I also have...

5. Cheap sources of entertainment! Such as 8 year old video game consoles, 6 year old games, board games found at Goodwill for $2, and blogging. Of course blogging. Lately we've even had a few friends to enjoy these things with us, so all in all, I'd say things will be ok.

Tally-Ho!

2009-04-05T10:20:00.005-05:00

This morning was my interview for Under the Boardwalk. The filmmaker, Kevin Tostado, was a really cool guy. I knew this from the start as he immediately began playing with JJ right after we introduced ourselves, and in my estimation, anyone who is cool with my cat is cool with me.

Anyway, the film sounds interesting, as he's taping Monopoly tournaments all over the world, and since it might have a minute or two of me in it, I'll keep everyone updated. And since I am in a Monopoly mood now (as if there's a point in the past month when I haven't been in one), I think it's time for the next token:

The Horse and Rider:

Usability: The Horse and Rider is a tall and thin token. It's easy to grab and move, and quick to find, as absolutely none of the other tokens resemble anything like it. Probably the easiest piece to use of all.

Personality: In a set of random tokens that seemingly have absolutely nothing to do with neither each other nor the game they are used in, the Horse and Rider stands out as being particularly alien, almost as if it's thrown in from some other game entirely. The Horse and Rider is the only piece to have a base; the rest stand on their own, and it is taller than the rest. It seems somehow fitting then that of all the tokens, the Horse and Rider is the one with the actual connection to Atlantic City. In Darrow's time, there was an act on the Steel Pier where a horse and rider would dive off of a 40 ft platform into a tub of water and then swim out. It was apparently quite the tourist attraction. Thus, the player who picks the Horse and Rider may seem a bit off in some way, but is not afraid to stand out and is comfortable and confident because he or she is in their element, right where they belong.

Humor: On the humor front, there aren't a plethora of options, but enough to keep this piece respectable. Should you land on an opponent's hotel, simply park the horse in front of it, face the edge of the board, and charge the owner a landscaping fee for improving the facade with your statue. If that fails, you can use the horse to push it over or beat on other tokens like an episode of When Animals Attack. Should you be struck with a creative mood, you can ad lib conversations between the horse and the rider, with bonus points if you can work in the line "Where have you taken us, Philippe?!"

Verdict: While a bit ostentatious, the Horse and Rider remains one of the better options available. Other than its high visibility, it has no major drawbacks.

Next: The Iron

Pull It Together

2009-04-02T23:24:00.005-05:00

The Thimble:

As I have never picked the thimble (not once!) when playing Monopoly, I know very little about it. In fact, the knowledge I have about thimbles wouldn't fill a thimble. As such, I have turned to an expert on thimblian affairs: Kelli. Kelli picks the thimble every time. After picking her brain, here's what I come up with.

Usability: An average piece. Doesn't stand out much on the board, not exceptionally easy nor difficult to pick up. Has a nice little textured surface though; that should count for something.

Personality: The thimble is the token of choice for contingency planners. No matter how broken things seem, the thimble feels they can fix them. Nothing is beyond repair. It also has the distinction in that it's the only piece that does not have a front or a back; even the Money Bag has dollar signs signifying front and back. Thimble players are balanced and well-rounded, if a bit whimsical and unpredictable. One never knows which way the thimble is going.

Humor: The thimble is one of a few pieces that a player can drink out of. This is useful during good times as a celebration drink, and also useful in bad times to drown your sorrows. The thimble can also be placed on the player's pinky, where it can be used to tap out a beat or to strike the other players in the temple to throw them off their game. Bold players can affix it to their tongue and make faces at the competition.

Verdict: A piece for unorthodox players. The unpredictable nature of the thimble, matched with their tendency toward back-up plans, points to a player who will make deals specifically to take out whoever is winning. If you are a playing a thimble and winning, take them out fast. If you are playing a thimble and a third person is winning, strike a deal quickly to even the playing field, and then take them out before they can turn a deal with someone else.

Next: The Horse and Rider

Interruption

2009-03-31T22:53:00.004-05:00

It's been a busy week for me, what with working a crapload of overtime so I can afford my pending trip to Washington, DC and all. On top of that, my beloved Kelli is feeling under the weather. This would normally require a trip to the doctor, but since for reasons unknown my doctor gave me a refill on my antibiotic, we were able to get her some meds without a dastardly co-pay. In the wrong hands, this antibiotic refill could have been disastrous; however, I am a regular reader of Rex Morgan, MD, and thus knew about the dangers of the MRSA, and therefore only used it responsibly.

So, I will soon resume my regularly scheduled blogging about my sudden Monopoly obsession.

Funny You Should Mention It

2009-03-24T13:02:00.002-05:00

In comments, Casey asked me if I've seen King of Kong, the documentary about the Donkey Kong world record. I haven't yet, but a filmmaker named Kevin Tostado is doing a documentary on Monopoly and the Monopoly tournaments entitled "Under the Boardwalk" and has asked for some background information on the finalists. You can see a teaser, along with an interview with Matt McNally, the reigning Monopoly champion, at www.monopolydocumentary.com.

It's Official!

2009-03-23T23:11:00.002-05:00

Got an email:

Andrew -

Congratulations again for earning a spot at the 2009 Monopoly U.S. National
Championship tournament.

Attached you will find three documents that provide additional information
about the championship tournament and that will help you plan your trip to
Washington D.C.

1. Letter
This is your official invitation. This document also includes a basic
tournament schedule and a short list of questions and answers.

2. Affidavit
Please review, sign and return.

3. Questionnaire
Includes important questions about your travel and you. Please answer the
questions and return a copy to us. This information will help us plan for
you and your guests.

If you have any problems with the files, please let us know and we will
resend or overnight hard copies to you.

Please feel free to give us a call if you have any questions.
Donetta & the Monopoly Team

In addition, it turns out that I was the only one who bankrupted all of their opponents, giving me the #2 ranking behind the defending champ going into the tournament. I'm #2! I'm #2!

The Waiting Is the Hardest Part

2009-03-22T23:24:00.005-05:00

I really thought I would know by now if my dominating performance on Pogo this weekend earned me a spot in the National Championship, but for some reason Hasbro/Parker Brothers/Pogo/etc. is dragging their heels. So, in the meantime, here's the full, unabridged story of my tournament experience. Online, I actually played the Here and Now: The World Edition, but to keep things more familiar, I'll refer to properties and money values by the standard gameboard.

My plan on Friday night was to come home, play one last game of Monopoly on Pogo, and then get about 8 hours sleep. However, we had to go to Meijer and wanted to deliver some groceries to our friend and coworker Alex, who is going through a family emergency and has been staying at the hospital. Everything is going well so far, if anyone is concerned about the seldom blogged-about friends of someone they don't actually know. It turned out I didn't get home until 2 in the morning, leaving no time for practice and less than 8 hours for sleep, but after weighing pros and cons I decided that 6 hours of sleep would be plenty and the karmic boost of delivering groceries to bed-ridden hospital patients and their attending family would be more beneficial than one more practice game.

As it turned out, I didn't sleep too soundly that night. Falling asleep was difficult, and staying asleep was difficult, but waking up early was not, for once. Since I rose out of bed at 8:30, an hour and a half before my first contest, I had time to think every aspect of my morning over to relax myself as much as possible.

I took a long, hot shower to ease my raging nerves. I searched for my MONOPOLY shirt, but as it must have been dirty, I had to go with a backup plan. I looked through my closet and settled on a Thoroughbred Music Festival shirt that has a horse playing the banjo on it that was never featured on the blog but made the final cut. It is a tad small but stretches well, but more importantly it was a gift from my friend Alpha Omega from college. Al knew about my collection of bizarre shirts and gave it to me after it shrank too much for him to wear. He instructed me to "wear it when you go on adventures. It's a good adventure shirt." He has been proven right over the years, and I wanted the good karma stored in the shirt. I decided trying for the Monopoly championship was an adventure and put it on.

I then went downstairs to eat some off-brand Honey Nut Cheerios. I also put on some They Might Be Giants as good comfort music, but quickly realized that as much as I love TMBG, they don't pump me up to succeed and accomplish my dreams, so I plotted a new course. I turned on my DVD player, went to special features, and listened to a rousing version of "Walk Hard." I then ate some off-brand Honey Nut Cheerios and tried to keep my confidence up and nerves in line.

By this time it was time to turn on the computer so I could go over the procedures with half an hour to spare. I got all set up, and felt the need to become even more pumped up, so I turned to my good friend the YouTube and listened to the classic Stan Bush tune, "The Touch." Oh man, just searching for that song on YouTube to link it is pumping me up again. PURE ADRENALINE, BABY! (Incidentally, did Stan Bush ever have any hits outside of the animated TransFormers movie from the 80s?)

So, Game 1: I play against Cool Guy and Big Jerk. I trade Cool Guy the 2 Light Blues (giving him the Monopoly) for 2 RRs early on. Big Jerk tries to rip me off several times by demanding I give him 4 RRs, $600, a Red, and a Green for St. Charles Place, which I had been trying to land on the entire game and need to complete the Light Purples. I tell him "No," eventually land on the unowned Red, and work out a deal where I give him 2 Reds in exchange for $400 and St. Charles Place. Cool Guy, with his Light Blue Hotels, hits Big Jerk with a $550 Vermont Hotel bill, and then I finish him off with a $700 Virginia bill. This leaves me with the Red Monopoly, but no cash, as he used all of his cash to pay Cool Guy. So it comes down to my Light Purple Hotels and RRs v. Cool Guy's Light Blue Hotels, Utilities, and Giant Pile of Cash. If I can survive a couple trips around the board, the game is mine. If he dodges my properties and hits me early, the game is his.

Then, an event that I will call "Karmic Payoff 1" occurs. Cool Guy lands on Reading, pays me $200. On his next turn, he rolls double 3s: St. Charles Place with a Hotel: $750. He pays with ease, and rolls an 11, lands on Chance, and draws the elusive "Advance to St. Charles Place" card, for another $750 tab. From here I could unmortgage and develop the Reds, and the game was over shortly. Cool Guy jokes to everyone in the waiting room that he had me on the ropes until I found out a way to digitally stack the Chance Card deck in my favor.

Game 2: Both my opponents are engaging and funny, so I have no nicknames differentiating them. The game begins with what I will call "Karmic Payoff 2." I get the second turn, and promptly roll Double 6s and buy the Electric Co. I then roll a 6 and a 4, land on Chance, and draw the "Advance to the Nearest Utility" card, and buy Water Works. I've never actually owned the Utility Monopoly, so this wasn't in my game plan, but I've heard from various strategy guides that they have a good payoff. I can confirm this now, as one of my opponents kept track of how much he paid my utilities, and noted he had paid for both of them by himself in less than half an hour. As for the rest of the game, both of my opponents were active traders, and offers were flying back and forth the entirety of the game. When the smoke cleared, I held the Oranges, the RRs, the Utilities, and two Greens with the third unowned, one held the Light Blues and the Dark Blues, and the other got shut out of a couple of deals and was left with just the Dark Purples for a short while before he went bankrupt. The cops caught on to our dirty dealings and threw both of us in jail a few times, which was very good for me and not so good for him, as it set him in line to hit my Oranges and let me dodge all of his Blues. The game ended pretty quickly after that.

So, for those looking for actual Monopoly strategy and not just token selection advice, I would say "Karma, Stan Bush, part of this complete breakfast, Railroads, Don't Be a Big Jerk, Oranges." I think that's a formula that can't miss. Now I just have to wait to see if I get to go to Washington.

WHOOOOO!!!!

2009-03-21T12:28:00.002-05:00

TOO EXCITED FOR COMPLETE SENTENCES! WON BOTH MY GAMES! BY A LOT! BANKRUPTED EVERYBODY I PLAYED! CAN'T STOP USING EXCLAMATION POINTS! CAN'T SIT STILL LONG ENOUGH TO TYPE THIS POST! FULL RUNDOWN TO COME LATER! HAD CRAAAAAZY GOOD LUCK TO MATCH SOME SWEET DEALS I GOT FOR MYSELF! THINK I AM GOING TO DC!

!!!!!!ALLCAPS!!!!!!

In For the Long Haul

2009-03-20T01:46:00.004-05:00

Ok, before I get to today's installment, I must apologize for its delay. As far as weeks go, I've had a busy one, filled with drama, humor, excitement, and all the adventures you'd come to expect from one with such a go-get-em lifestyle as mine. There is, however, major news to announce: I have been selected as one of 75 semifinalists in the official US Monopoly Tournament. I must play two games of Monopoly online this weekend, and if my money total is in the top 24, I go to Washington DC for the Finals and a chance to win a Monopoly set with real money in it. Needless to say, I am pumped. Plus, this gives my crucial advice offered here some extra gravitas: I am now an expert and shit. So listen up.

The Wheelbarrow:

Usability: While the wheelbarrow has two handles, they are not particularly easy to grip, and it's pretty wide at all points. On top of this, it seems to tip over rather easily. Thus, it's not the most easily handled piece.

Personality: At first, the wheelbarrow suggests very little about its player. It is not a flashy piece, it does not stand out on the board, and it is rarely associated with any style of play. However,underneath its calm facade, the wheelbarrow tacitly implies, "I plan on making so much money in this game, I am going to need a wheelbarrow to carry it around the board. Moreover, while I am going to have all this money, I am not spending it on any flashy cars or purebreed show dogs; no, I'm just putting it all into a giant pile on this wheelbarrow and rubbing your face in it." Thus, the wheelbarrow is a good piece if you are secretly a jackass but don't wish for everyone to know that about you right away. Incidentally, it has always been one of my favorites.

Humor: The big advantage to being the wheelbarrow is that every single game component balances nicely on top of it, meaning you can steal anything that is not bolted down. That hotel the iron built on Connecticut? It somehow just got relocated to States. You can also give the other tokens a lift and conveniently dump them off at your properties. If all else fails, you can go around the board in reverse and claim you are actually a rickshaw, or hook yourself up to another token and demand they pull you.

Verdict: The wheelbarrow: unassuming on the surface, but masking a deep antisocial streak necessary to unapologetically bury its opponents. Fear the player that picks the wheelbarrow. Do not believe their self-deprecating jokes; they are killers underneath. If it were easier to move around, the wheelbarrow would be my favorite piece hands down. As it is, I have to rotate among several to keep the competition guessing.

Next: The Thimble

Cash Out

2009-03-12T22:40:00.003-05:00

The Money Bag:

Usability: The money bag has no easily-grippable handles and is wide at all parts. It is among the least ergonomic of the tokens.

Personality: I don't understand this piece in the slightest. It's money, which is an intrinsic component used to play Monopoly. When you play Sorry!, you get to pick Red, Blue, Green, or Yellow. You do not get to pick "Move Backwards 4." When you play Clue, you pick one of the suspects; you do not get to pick "The Envelope With the Answer." When you play Risk, you pick your army color; you don't get to be "The Red Dice." So conceptually, the piece is a little confused.

Humor: Uh, you could, pretend like you had all the money in the bag, maybe? Um, I'm a little lost. You could bribe your way out of jail, except everyone has to do that anyway. Perhaps every time you roll the dice, you could act like you're running away from the Beagle Boys. They always had bags of money. I don't know. You're on your own.

Verdict: Let's see, it's difficult to grip, utterly humorless, and doesn't make a lick of sense. I don't think this token has a single redeeming feature, but I still haven't gotten to its biggest drawback. The Bag of Money is the newest Monopoly Token, added in 1999 after a popularity contest was had. When terrible things get elected, it's usually because either the other choices were even worse, or a lot of people are just really, really dense. The other two choices were a bi-plane, which would've been awesome, or a Piggy Bank, which is something that can be used to store or transport money rather than the actual concept itself and thus more sensible. So truly, if you pick the Bag of Money, you are not only getting a horrible piece, but you're also the physical representation of the failure of democracy and a reminder that most people are much dumber than you'd think. Please pick something else.

Tomorrow (or Saturday): The Wheelbarrow

Don't Tread On Me

2009-03-11T11:04:00.003-05:00

The Shoe:

Usability: The old-timey shoe comes equipped with an old timey shoehorn that makes for a handle. This is useful not only in moving your piece, but making your little shoe do a little dance on his way to your destination. Bonus.

Personality: Maybe it's because it has no laces, but the shoe has always looked rather beat-up to me; like someone kicked it off with no regard for its condition. I've always felt like it needed some pewter stank lines emanating from it. However, if you imagine it all laced up, it seems it'd be a pretty nice piece of footwear. Thus, I feel the shoe is like a tuxedo t-shirt; it says "I'm here to party, but I can step it up too," as famed scholar Cal Naughton Jr. once told us.

Humor: The shoe can cause a great deal of mischievous hijinx. In addition to performing various dances while moving, the shoe can hold in a lot of pent up rage. You can stomp hotels, kick houses, flip the wheelbarrow over, kick the puppy, trip the horse, etc. etc. There's very little limit to the havoc you can create. If it's the holiday season, or if you're just a dork, you can even sing the chorus from The Christmas Shoes every time you want to buy something.

Verdict: The shoe is not typically considered a glamor piece, so it's usually available to someone with a taste for goofy hijinx. Shoe players probably won't be seen as intimidating as the battleship, car, or cannon, so use that to your advantage and slide under the radar at the beginning.

Tomorrow: The Bag of Money

Fire in the hole!

2009-03-10T11:53:00.003-05:00

The Cannon:

Usability: One of the perks of picking the cannon is that it is one of the easier pieces to handle. The protruding barrel makes for an easy handle, or it can be easily grabbed by its wheel. Its height makes it stand out on the board so you don't lose track of yourself.

Personality: Cannons serve exactly one purpose: to blow up tons of crap. Cannon players will be seen as hyperaggressive. Since the cannon tends to stick out, players are not likely to miss when you land on their properties.

Humor: Yes, you can point your cannon at enemy properties and blow them off the board, but the true fun of the cannon lies more in the area that it's a long shaft pointing straight up into the air with a round object below it, not to paint too clear a picture. While the full repertoire of Jokes About Penises is too extensive to include here, you can use your cannon to molest your opponent's tokens, especially if some poor sap picked the Horse and Rider or Terrier, as well as make your cannon fake an orgasm when someone lands on one of your higher rents.

Verdict: It takes a lot of confidence to pick the cannon. You have to be confident in your Monopoly skills to offset the aggressive nature of the piece, you have to be comfortable in your knowledge of penis jokes, and you have to be comfortable enough with your sexuality that you don't mind handling a phallus for a couple of hours. Finally, fellas, if you are playing a game of Monopoly and you are trying to impress one of the female players, avoid the Cannon. Nothing says "I'm compensating for something" quite like "I want to be the CANNON!" right out of the gate. Go with something else. Anything else.

Tomorrow: The Shoe

Pedal to the Metal

2009-03-08T18:07:00.005-05:00

One of the many contributing factors to the demise of my blog was the emergence of something that resembled a social life. Before, I'd go to work and yuk it up with all the people there, then go home and do absolutely nothing for 8 hours or so, which left plenty of time for blog-writing program related activities.

Now, in addition to spending time with Kelli, it seems that people like to spend time with the two of us and we frequently entertain people at our lovely townhouse. One of our friends, the immensely entertaining Mike, loves to play Monopoly. Since I also love playing Monopoly, it's been a recent addition to our pasttimes. Kelli does not love Monopoly so much. In fact, she rather hates the game, and was about ready to leave me early on in our relationship over a game of Monopoly in which I was particularly successful/assholish. But, after refusing to play for a year, she is coming around to it and is getting better every game, mostly fueled by her refusal to make any deals with me unless it is for properties I do not want. Occasionally I offer some sound strategies for her, but since she usually tells me where I can shove them, I have laid off of that in recent attempts. I bought a book with winning tips, but she doesn't seem interested in reading it.

The Monopoly knowledge I intend to pass on today, however, cannot be found in any tome, yet may in fact be the most important decision you make in the game: the crucial question "Which of these random, bizarre tokens, most of which have nothing whatsoever to do with real estate, should I pick to represent me?"

As I have a particular fascination with the bizarre and surreal, it should come to no one's surprise that I have paid an unhealthy bit of attention to the process of picking out your piece. I find there are three criteria by which to judge a piece:

A) Usability: How easy is it to pick this piece up and move it?
B) Personality: What does this piece say about me and my game strategy?
C) Humor: What sorts of hilarious possibilities will this piece open up?

Now, let's analyze our options, one per day, so I can milk this into two weeks' worth of posts and possibly re-establish an online presence and win back somewhere in the neighborhood of 250,000 of my MILLIONS of former readers.

So, without further ado:

The car. Let's start with the most popular piece: does old timey sports car live up to its reputation?

A) For being the most popular piece, the car is not really very easy to move. It sits low to the ground, has nothing protruding that makes for easy grabbing.

B) The good news is that everyone loves the car; the bad news is that everyone loves the car. The car is snazzy and it's fun to drive around the board, but it's not good for asserting your personality. Picking the car is pretty much the equivalent of deciding to follow the NFL and choosing the Steelers as your favorite team; yes, there are good reasons, but you still look like a lemming. Some of the rarely picked tokens raise eyebrows and thoughts; if you pick the car, you are simply "The Guy Who Picks The Car." And every table has a "Guy Who Picks The Car".

C) Humor with the car rests solely on doing donuts on your opponents property after you have to pay, or swerving along the board like you're driving drunk and crashing into their hotels. If you roll a 2 or a 3, you can sputter and backfire as you barely make it the few spaces. You can also honk at people in Jail when you visit them.

Verdict: A conservative pick, the equivalent of a poker face. Are you an Andretti who will hotly pursue any opportunity, or more of a Sunday driver who lets the deals come to them? It's hard to tell, since everyone on the planet likes to pick the car. If you can get it without a fight, you may slip under the radar and not reveal your hand.

Tomorrow: The Cannon

Happy Anniversary!

2009-02-07T22:47:00.002-05:00

To me. Today marks one year that I've been dating my wonderful girlfriend Kelli. While it hasn't always been easy, mostly because I am an exceedingly difficult person to be in a relationship with, it has been happy and fun the whole time, and every day I am in a good mood because I am with her.

I love you more every day, Kelli. I hope to be with you for many more years to come.

My millions of former readers probably love you considerably less, seeing as how I am unable to have a relationship and a blog at the same time. They will just have to deal, I suppose.

It's Only a Theory, Of Course

2009-01-17T03:12:00.002-05:00

I think the Colonel put St. John's Wort in his blend of 11 herbs and spices.

Think about it. Everyone loves some KFC. Everyone.

And why 11? Seriously. Who picks 11 herbs and spices? Everyone else would stop at 10. The eleventh spice is the key; the secret ingredient.

And really, why do you need 10 different herbs and spices, for that matter? Obviously to cover up the taste of the bad tasting secret ingredient, herb/spice #11.

So you eat the chicken with the St. John's Wort. You feel naturally happier. You are inclined to return and eat the chicken again. Instant repeat business.

I would be very surprised if this is not true.

Blogging Is Hard

2008-11-21T02:18:00.002-05:00

I really have no explanation for why I'm suddenly the Worst. Blogger. Ever.

It might be the fact that maybe one in five blog posts I write somehow come back to haunt me for months and months after I write them.

It might be that my crippling doubt about how other people see me has been all but destroyed in the past while, and since that was the creative fuel for most of my self-deprecating posts, it leaves only the kinda pretentious posts where I bitch about how much I hate what's on the radio.

It might be that Kelli's car radio sucks, and I don't listen to the radio as much.

It might be that I have lots of entertaining, funny conversations with Kelli now on a daily basis, and so the one interesting conversation I had a week is no longer noteworthy enough to get its own blog post.

It might be that I'm a little bitter about my job and don't feel like I make any kind of impact.

On the other hand, my mind still runs at about eight zillion unrelated and mostly ridiculous thoughts per hour, so I could probably document some of them.

For example, I recently added a deck of cards to my collection. They are Halloween seasonal cards called "Tragic Royalty" and all the face cards have angry or twisted in anguish expressions. Many of them are clever, like the King of Hearts being a skeleton since there's a sword sticking in his head, and the Jack of Hearts turned toward the player with a patch over his usually hidden in profile eye.

Then, while at the liquor store, I found a pack of Jack Daniels cards which were just regular playing cards with Jack Daniels advertisments on the backs. I didn't buy them, but they did give me an idea: Drunken Royalty Cards. The face cards can all be in various states of debauchery, even organized by themes. The Hearts can be Horny Drunks, the Spades can be Violent Drunks, the Clubs can be Depressed Drunks, and the Diamonds can be Fun Drunks. I think this is a can't-miss idea, and since it took me all of two seconds to think of it, why hasn't anyone at the US Playing Card Co. figured it out yet?

In completely unrelated news, Kelli and I went to Wal-Mart a few nights ago after work and found ourselves surrounded by an elite squadron of lesbian employees putting stock on the shelves. I think at least 2 out of 3 employees we saw appeared to be a lesbian. Is this a corporate wide movement? I urge everyone to check out their local Wal-Mart during the night shift hours to find out if it is also a complete Lesbinanza.

Also Wal-Mart related: there is a night shift cashier at our Wal-Mart with mutton chops. Big, thick, Civil War-era Cavalry Commander mutton chops. The problem is that the cashier is a female. With mutton chops. Long, scraggly, impossible to ignore mutton chops. I hate being completely superficial, but shouldn't someone tell her that she should do something about those? I mean, my mom never hesitated to tell me when I looked unpresentable. And shouldn't Wal-Mart have some form of anti-mutton chop policy in its Cashier Dress Code?

Ok. That's all the wisdom I've got to offer for now. Hopefully I'll think of something else soon and get back in the habit of updating this thing.

Awesome Things I've Done Lately

2008-06-22T23:27:00.003-05:00

1. Saw the Guess Who in concert. Technically, I suppose it was only two original members of the Guess Who, but all the newer people had either been playing with them for decades or had some connection with the group. Anyway, they sounded really, really good. Exceptionally. And my tickets were flat-out great. The whole experience was so exceptional that I have decided that the Guess Who are unjustly shafted in the Best Band of All Time competition. I'm not saying they are, but I think they deserve to be in the same conversation with The Beatles, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, and The Rolling Stones, if that sort of thing is your bag. The point is, they couldn't write a not-awesome song if they tried. Even their simple, just rockin' along, no-big-deal songs like Bus Rider are really really good.

2. Went to see the Indiana Fever. I think the Fever might be the best time I've had at any professional sporting event, ever, and that's some strong stuff coming from a guy who was at WrestleMania VIII and saw the Ultimate Warrior's triumphant return to the ring. Our tickets cost $10, and we were somewhere around 14 rows up, and then were able to move down after halftime. The game was really fast-paced, intense, and extremely physical for three quarters. At that point, the Fever were up by 23 and just coasted through the end. After the game, Tamika Catchings stayed for awhile to sign autographs, then came out of her way to give Kelli a high-five and thank us for coming. It's a really cool experience. If there's a WNBA franchise near you, I can't recommend supporting them enough.

3. Went back to work after having a week off. This, in actuality, was not awesome at all. In fact, it was entirely not awesome, to the point that I might have sufficient motivation to get a good job that might actually require a college diploma sometime soon. Hopefully one in Indianapolis, so I can get season tickets to the Fever.

Fit is really a terrible name for it.

2008-06-18T14:42:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, I went on an epic trek to Richmond in search of Mario Kart Wii. I had it on good authority that a shipment was coming in at my favorite video game store, and that it would be there between 11:00 and 12:00, and that I could get one held for me if I showed up. Naturally, I had to take advantage of such an offer, considering the degree of difficulty I've had in locating the game.

Well, to make a long story short, the shipment was short a game, and the other two people they were holding games for stayed in the store while I did shopping elsewhere, so my two hour wait in Richmond was for naught... or was it? The shopkeeper informed me that he did have one copy of the equally impossible to find Wii Fit. Rather than go home empty handed, I decided to give the odd little exercise program thing a try.

First, Wii Fit is decidedly much less exciting than Mario Kart. In fact, there is no racing or turtle shell flinging to be seen, so really, if you've got a hankerin to play some Mario Kart, you don't really want Wii Fit. It's just not going to cut it.

Second, seeing as how I've only had it one day, I'm not really sure I can judge how effective it is at getting people in shape. However, after playing a few of the games, it occurred to me that it was a beautiful day outside and that I might actually enjoy going outside and getting some for real exercise. So that's a plus.

Third, I'm more convinced than ever that the Wii is Japan's twisted vengeance against tall Americans. I first got the clue when I played "Wii Boxing" and my combatant was unable to punch below the chin and threw most of his punches over his opponent's head. Keeping in mind that the first rule of video games is "If you're losing, the controller must be broken," I decided my height worked against me and started spreading my legs way out to make me shorter. Kelli still gave me a solid beatdown though, so I'm still apparently not short enough.

Wii Fit, meanwhile, doesn't fit in my apartment. In order to play, I donned my running shoes and stood up on the three inch balance board and started doing some yoga, specifically the "Half Moon Pose". As soon as I stretched my arms up, my hands hit the ceiling, and I'm now trying to adjust my position so I fit on the board and the little red dot that shows my center of balance is flying all over the place and I end up with a final score of 13/200, and my trainer insulted me. And the strength training where you have to stretch your legs out or do pushups will require some serious furniture moving. Now, I know from watching enough HGTV and The Amazing Race with my dad that there isn't a ton of room in Japanese housing, so I'm assuming that your typical living room gives you plenty of room provided you are not over six feet tall.

So, now I'll have to talk to Kelli about rearranging the living room so that the I will fit in it while using the Wii Fit and try not to think about how perfect my living room set up is for Mario Kart.

Hey! Look! A Blog Post!

2008-06-16T11:20:00.002-05:00

So I recently just stumbled upon some blog. It's called "The Ballpoint Banana." The tone seems to be largely sarcastic and condescending, but I think it's a style I might be able to mimic, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

I suppose now would be a perfect time to write about why I write a blog and, even more appropriately, why I do not write a blog.

1. Video Games. When I have a host of fun games at my disposal to play, it dominates my time. Always has. I've been playing video games since before I could read, and I do not see this trend slowing at any point. Recently I discovered I have a Grand Theft Auto addiction, and I have finished Grand Theft Auto III, Vice City, and San Andreas since my previous blog post. I am also halfway through Liberty City Stories on my PSP, playing it only when I am on break at work or when Kelli is shopping for shoes or purses and I am bored.

Speaking of Kelli, the Video Game playing has only increased because I purchased a Wii which we now play all the time. Kelli has enjoyed scant few video games, but she loves the Wii. The prospect of playing video games with a girlfriend is simply to awesome to ignore, so many hours have been played in front of the Wii.

On top of all this, I have The Sims Complete Collection that Kelli and I played for a few weeks before we got the Wii (see, finding a video game to play with the significant other has always been a high priority for me), so I have a whole slew of games that I could lavish my attention on. Or I can write boring blog posts, try for a while to make them interesting, fail, and then go play fun video games.

2. Kelli: Kelli, in case you haven't caught on, is my girlfriend, and she represents a dramatic shift in my dating patterns. I have this whole "fear of commitment" issue going on, largely based on the fact that my life is in no way stable, I'm not settled in what I want to be doing long-term, and I can't say where I'll be this time next year. The uncertainty is not conducive for relationships. However, I still enjoy going out with people, so what I would always do was find girlfriends whose company I enjoyed but couldn't see myself being with longterm due to complete psychosis or general dumbness. My coworker Claudia referred to them as "floozies," and I think that's a rather apt description. Kelli, however, is smart, and funny, and sane. She's also accommodating and friendly and good to me. So my mindset has switched from it's default "This will do for now" setting to "Dear God Let's Not Screw This One Up" setting. This new setting takes quite a bit more attention.

3. Lack of conflict: Life is going well right now. I'm rarely, if ever, bored at home. I spend a good chunk of time with my girlfriend. My car has actually been performing as it is supposed to. I'm even lacking on hilariously embarrassing injuries of late, although the massive sunburn on the top of my knee that I incurred while driving home from Cousin Camp this weekend is up there. The only real conflict is from work, and it is mostly alleged, and it would also be most unwise to talk about it on the internets, so I'm not writing about that. Without conflict, there's not much of a story arc, and the blog turns into "The Journal of the Most Boring Person On the Planet". As such, I will probably spend most future entries taking something completely trivial and treating it as the most important problem facing society today, hoping that the disparity between tone and subject matter causes some comedic material. Look for "Wii Boxing: The Japanese Conspiracy Against the Vertically Gifted" in a future entry.

Cornrows!

2008-03-10T20:07:00.003-05:00

Bullets Within Bullets

2008-03-05T21:24:00.003-05:00

1. Chicks have lots of stuff, as it turns out. My apartment is now part warehouse.

2. I have lots of boardgames. I went to Goodwill today to drop off some furniture and look for shelves to put my board games on. I succeeded in buying more board games.

3. But they were really, really cheap! C'mon. I had to.

4. I then went to Wal-Mart and bought shelves because I didn't feel like driving all the way across town to Meijer. Also, I'm unsure of what selection Meijer has in furniture.

5. I haven't even gotten around to clothing, cd, and book sorting yet.

6. But, let's kill the suspense and get to the question everyone has surely been contemplating for over a week now: How awesome is Kelli? Let's go over the checklist:

A. Not too impressed with The Tick. This, of course, is a terrible start to any awesomeness checklist, but it's not a dealbreaker yet. As it turns out, she's never been a big fantasy/sci-fi/comic person, so a lot of the humor may be lost on her. I don't know.

B. Loves board games. This is a big one. I've already hooked her on Backgammon, played a couple other strategic two player games like Mancala (ok, but overrated in both of our estimations), and Roundabouts, which is fun and exciting. She has yet to beat me at any of these, but I'm sure her day will come. We've also played games with friends, such as Trivial Pursuit, Life, and a trivia game I bought for five bucks called Mental Floss. She tends to be good at Life, even though it always appeared to me as the sort of game you couldn't actually be good at. She's not a fan of Monopoly on accounta it takes too long, and she's never played Risk, so there's room for improvement on this front too, but this just means we're at Severely Awesome levels with the potential for Completely Awesome levels in the future.

C. Plays a quality game of Euchre. Also important, as mocking my brother-in-laws after shellacking them at Euchre every year is a tradition I don't plan on breaking.

D. Understands most of my allusions. I don't feel like I have to throttle down my intelligence when I talk to her, and she catches most of my references. If she doesn't, then I can just explain it without anyone feeling inadequate. Plus, she talks all smart and shit too, and makes references I don't understand frequently. It works.

E. Loves movies, but does not share my quest to see all the best pictures. This is because, like me, she is resistant to seeing really really long movies. I keep telling her that I always thought the same thing but I keep loving these movies I thought I wouldn't, but she hasn't budged yet. Instead, we each pick out a movie from the 2/$1 section of Family Video, either something we think the other one will like, or something we've always wanted to see.

F. Loved Gil Thorp and Judge Parker from the moment she saw them. The fact that she instantly saw the vast potential for humor in the soap opera strips negates the lack of love for The Tick, I think.

G. Is a lesbian, leaving the possibility for threesomes wide open.

So, she's passing the awesome quotient so far.

8. Where was I? Oh, speaking of Judge Parker, why are we bouncing around from story to story here? We go from Sam's new law partner search/sandwich order to Legless Steve getting threats from the Taliban to Abbey Spencer wandering around the abandoned Dickens compound. C'mon, Judge Parker, it takes you 8 months to wrap up one storyline; you cannot handle three at a time. And speaking of the Dickens, am I supposed to believe that the kindly elderly woman who gives pot brownies to her neighbors while her loony husband buzzes around in his biplane all day is the villain of this story? On the plus side, this is better than having absentee Taliban villains, and I can now refer to her as Evil Elvira and her Brownies of Doom. Also, since practically nothing bad ever happens to the villains in this strip outside of the Paris punks, I suppose there is no cause for concern.

9. I take my soap opera comics very seriously.

CRAZINESS

2008-02-24T13:14:00.003-05:00

There's a lot of craziness going on these days. LOTS of it. Where to start?

First, my car needs a new transmission, so I have to take out a loan to buy it. On the plus side, I think this will fix my car for good, hopefully for the full three years of the warranty I'm getting.

Second, I applied for a job sometime around November, and this week, the Bobs finally decided to get around to conducting their interviews. After waiting 4 months for an answer, during which I made several jokes that the job didn't really exist and was just an urban legend, I got less than 24 hours of advance notice for my interview.

So, let's go into my job interviewing philosophy. With a whole year's worth of experience in mental health care, I'm not exactly the most experienced candidate. My program-crafting experience is nil and my degree is in the wrong social science, so I'm not exactly the most qualified either. My best hope, as far as I can reckon, is to be the best looking candidate who also is competent. So, I had to dust off the best suit I had, and show up for the interview ready to impress. I suppose the strategy has worked, as both the RN and the Nursing Supervisor had to interrupt their own sentences to say, "Wow, Andy, you look really nice!" At that point, I figure all I have to do is show that I bring skills in addition to eye candy, which I did with some impressive and mind-bogglingly simple computer work.

So, that took up a day.

Third, and here's a blog-shaking announcement: I have a girlfriend now. Yes, it's a coworker. It's Kelli, who I've had a small crush on for quite some time that I've always managed to stifle because she's a lesbian. Except she's not a lesbian now, or rather, not exclusively anyway. Here's a fun-filled conversation we had near the start of the whole torrid affair:

Kelli: I think it's kind of disturbing that I've been fantasizing about sleeping with Jesus.
Andy: No, I'm pretty sure that's exactly how it works. First you fall in love with Jesus, and suddenly you're not gay anymore.

(see, there's a running joke among everyone at work, consumer and staff alike, that I look like Jesus)

But yes. That's all nice and fun except for the obligatory bits of neurosis I always get when I'm in a relationship. That's not so much fun. And even though I'm dating a coworker again, I'm pretty sure it'll turn out right this time.

Also, Kelli applied for that same job I did back in November, and used the same tactic as me. Since she's got a bit more experience, I think I have to concede her the edge. Most independent observers are guessing it's between the two of us.

Fourth: Kelli's lease on her house just expired, so she's moving in here. This was already in discussion before the whole dating thing started, and since we both could use the money, we're going to split some expenses on my already very affordable apartment. The downside is that I have to make room for her, which consists of getting rid of a lot of my junk.

Also, this is a big step for me. I didn't get to have my own room until I was 20, and since obtaining one, I've been fiercely territorial. My space is my space, and I prefer to keep it that way. Inviting someone to move in with me is a bit of a leap for me, but after 3 years of having no one over ever, I think maybe it's time for a change of pace. The way I see it, it'll either work, or it won't.

And through all of these fast-paced shenanigans, I haven't even had time to observe that it's February and I'm late for my annual depressive episode.

The Solution

2008-02-18T02:52:00.003-05:00

Blah blah blah haven't written in awhile blah blah blah keeping busy blah blah blah.

Ok, to the post.

This happens every year. It's February. We get down. The weather sucks. Christmas has been forgotten, the Super Bowl is just a memory, we're not baseball fans, and there's nothing slated until Easter rolls around.

We've had "Oh, let's just have a family reunion in the middle of February for timing reasons" before, but it never sticks. We need a premise, even if it's a premise as flimsy as "Labor Day." It's still a premise, and it's more than we have for Made-Up Holiday in February Reunion.

Well, I have a premise. And it's awesome. I think we need to have an inaugural Andy's Family February Backgammon Invitational in 2009. I'm conceding 2008, as there are only 11 days left in the month, but this we should get this started next year.

"But Andy," the whinier members of my family might say if there were any, "I don't know how to play Backgammon."

Well, the February Backgammon Invitational would give you the perfect opportunity to learn. I assure you it will be worth it. I have taught 3 girlfriends to play Backgammon now, and all of them loved it. For awhile, my long-distance relationship with AJ was held together with nothing but Internet Backgammon.

"But Andy," the more insecure members of my family might say if there were any, "didn't you win a Backgammon Tournament once in 1994? How ever will we avoid a merciless shellacking at your skilled hands?"

Why, yes, I did win the Backgammon tournament at the Big M Math Camp For Extremely Nerdy and Socially Awkward Tweeners in the summer of 1994, thanks for remembering. (It should be added that I was a legitimate qualifier for Big M Math Camp, and not a mere alternate who snuck in the backdoor, unlike certain older siblings who have secret blogs they never post on.) Bear in mind, however, that before Big M, I had never played a game of Backgammon in my life, and upset a lifelong player in the finals. There's a lot of strategy in Backgammon, but there's a lot of luck as well. The better player will usually, but not always win, and the underdog always has a puncher's chance.

Plus, all of you are either married or attached to someone long-term. You'll have plenty of time to practice your backgammon skills.

"But Andy," my more complaining family members could say, "why couldn't we play something we already play, like Euchre?"

Because we already play Euchre at Christmas. No one would drive up for a family reunion that's just a crappy sequel to Christmas without the pageantry. No, it has to be something special.

Plus, Backgammon is one-on-one, and nearly equal parts skill and luck. Plus, it's easy, so the kids can enter the tournament sooner rather than later. I'm already dreading drawing Phoebe in the first round of the 2012 tournament. Not only that, but backgammon is crazy-cheap (if you pay $5 for a backgammon set, it better be a super-deluxe one), and very fast to play. We could make the tournament a double-elimination and still get it over with in an hour and a half, which leaves plenty of time for drinking or sobering up. Hell, we throw in a traveling trophy, or better yet, some sweet WWE replica championship belts, and the whole thing will be irresistibly awesome. Seriously. Can you see yourself resisting the lure of Backgammon championship belts? I cannot.

But, mostly, I just love playing backgammon, and I hate the fact that most people just know it as that weird looking game on the back of the checkerboard.

So, anyone else up for this, or is my backgammevangelism falling on deaf ears?

One Week Later...

2008-02-07T16:18:00.000-05:00

...and Sam still hasn't gotten his damn sandwich.

Now you realize the power of the Dark Side*

2008-02-05T04:26:00.000-05:00

I've learned something about myself this week. I enjoy hating things much more than I enjoy loving them.

I know this because I enjoyed this year's Super Bowl, when my least favorite sports team this side of the 2004 Lakers lost, much more than last year's Super Bowl, when my favorite team won the championship for the first time ever.

Now, there may be some extenuating circumstances. First, last year, the big game was the AFC championship against the Patriots, which I enjoyed more than either of the Super Bowls, obviously. The Super Bowl was sort of a let down after that.

Second, the Colts' Super Bowl opponent was the Chicago Bears. I have a small collection of friends who are Bears fans. They're nice and friendly. The Bears were a respectable enough team without any major personality flaws, and I sort of commisserated with the agony of following Rex Grossman every week. And they posed no threat to the Colts outside of Devin Hester, so the win was pretty much expected, unlike in the Pats game two weeks earlier that was totally in the air. That takes a lot out of the celebration.

This year, I had pretty much written the Giants off along with the rest of the world. There is no way possible they can stop the steady stream of 7 yard passes that the Pats would call and cover Randy Moss at the same time, I reasoned, so the Pats should win in a blowout, and I will hate the NFL just a little bit more. I did not foresee Tom Brady utterly sucking for four quarters, with Wes Welker being his first, second, and only option. The surprise factor added to my joy at seeing the Pats lose. Furthermore, the Giants were without their more toolish elements, Jeremy Shockey and Tiki Barber, and the thought of the Pats losing to a Manning two years straight made me happy.

But, in retrospect, the fact remains that I like watching teams I hate lose more than I like watching my team win. During my senior year at Wabash College, I got a column for the school paper. I covered DePauw University football for the Entertainment section. Since most of my knowlege of football comes from years of playing Tecmo Super Bowl, my column consisted of a third of a page making fun of them and laughing at their ineptitude, even though they were a legitimate team. And a lot of people complimented me on it, even to the point that people would complain when I would skip their away games because I didn't feel like driving to Hope, Michigan or suffering through their student-run webcast. It was simply more fun for me to hate DePauw than it was to cheer for Wabash more often than not.

That was 2004. I spent the NBA season inexplicably watching every Lakers game with Nando and making jokes about Kobe Bryant being a rapist, Karl Malone and Gary Payton being tools, and Shaq being an obnoxious jerk. I think they had a fifth starter that I also hated (Rick Fox, maybe?), but I can't remember what we said about him. Oh, we also made fun of the TV announcers that spent every second of every game, whether or not the Lakers were playing, talking about how the Lakers were one of the best teams of all time, even though the Minnesota Timberwolves sported a better record and the best player in the league. This was while the Pacers were still title contenders, but I was really looking forward to the Lakers losing more than anything else.

So, yes. I'm hate filled, as it turns out, which probably explains my recent obsession with the Judge Parker sandwich watch. In my defense, it's at least a very quiet hatred most of the time. Anyone surprised?

*and while I'm on Star Wars quotes, "Oh Ani, hold me like you did by the lake on Naboo," was chosen as one of the worst lines ever in a Yahoo! front page feature. I have a difficult time not clicking on those things, even when I'm not interested in the subject matter. Whoever designs them deserves a raise.

POST SUPER BOWL YOUTUBE POST IN ALL CAPS

2008-02-04T02:12:00.000-05:00

WOOOOOO!!! THAT WAS AWESOME! HOLY CRAP DID YOU SEE THAT CRAZY PLAY WHEN ELI MANNING THREW OFF THREE OR FOUR DEFENDERS AND THEN THREW IT 45 YARDS TO DAVID TYREE WHO SOMEHOW CAUGHT IT WITH HIS HEAD??? THAT WAS FREAKING AMAZING! WOOO! TOM PETTY IS REALLY COOL TOO, BUT HE PROBABLY SHOULDN'T BE SINGING AMERICAN GIRL ANYMORE BECAUSE HE'S NO LONGER 16.

WOOOO!!!

This Might Only Interest Me

2008-01-31T00:12:00.001-05:00

Hey, you know the serial/soap opera comics in the newspaper? I'm a big fan of them, because they're so, well, I don't know what. Bizarre, I guess is the word. I realize that practically everyone else on the planet finds them boring and dumb, but somehow I find them to be really funny more often than not. Plus, if you have a few willing friends, you can try to act them out and discover exactly how ludicrous the dialogue and body language are in actual, real-life settings. Or, they're ludicrous unless you frequently eschew pronouns and do a lot of pointing into the air whenever you make a point.

So, in the slow-paced, often-boring world of soap opera comic strips, one strip, Judge Parker, stands out for being exceptionally slow-paced and boring. To get an idea of how slow the strip is, it took six months from last January to June to cover one day in the strip. Usually, the strip's artist conceals the boredom by offering massive cleavage shots, which then double as a justification for repeating the exact same information the next day with the classic "I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said because I was staring at your boobs" defense. Also, I've been reading it for a year, and Judge Parker himself has never appeared outside of the logo on the Sunday title panel.

But the point of all this is to post the Judge's offering for 1/30/08, which is the most boring edition of Judge Parker ever, which puts it on the short list for Most Boring Comic Strip in the History of the Entire Universe.

"Someone will start a job! Someone will go for lunch! Someone will order a sandwich! You'll pay for the whole seat, but you'll only need the edge!"

Actually, I'm kind of hoping this conversation continues for the next two weeks. "Any condiments?" "Mayo." "Regular or fat free?" "Regular. Forget it if it's fat free." "What about sides?" etc. I'm wondering how long they could do it without anyone noticing.

Bulleted List of Song Lyrics

2008-01-30T02:34:00.000-05:00

"She's got one magic trick:" Hey, I now weigh 163 pounds, down from 175 a week ago, and pretty much nowhere near the 190 or so I probably should weigh as a 6'4"ian. This is slightly alarming to me, because gaining weight has never really been my forte, and it really makes me wish I had some form of appetite about now. I'm just going to assume that my body will reset itself to 175 as it always does whenever it meanders away from it.

"Come and dance on our floor. Take a step that is new:" Cleaning this apartment has made me realize that I need a roommate. My coworker Kelli has told me that she and her girlfriend are moving out of their apartment and want to rent a house with a third and possibly fourth person. Even though there's a prohibitively high probability that this will be an unmitigated disaster due to the nature of living with people who are dating, I still think it will be a good idea for us, because we'll be closer to work. And have more people splitting the rent. Plus, it is not every day you get a chance to play Reverse Three's Company. We even have a crazy blonde, a sensible brunette, and a flirtatious male full of zany hijinx. It'll be a blogging gold mine, I tell you. Dude, and there will be people around to play all our board games with! Heck yeah! Good idea all around. Sorry, what was I talking about again? Right. Bulleted List. On we go.

"She wasn't too bright, but from the way she kissed me, I knew she knew how to get her kicks:" Ok, eHarmony, I officially hate you. "Oh look at us. We've got 8 cajillion elements we match to hook you up with someone who is perfect for you!" Well, eHarmony, I think you're missing one of the most important elements: someone who can write a sentence with correct spelling, grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. Really, is that too much to ask for? Because if I wanted to date people who can't spell, there are about 8 dozen within a stone's throw. Just sayin.

"And we talked about some old times, and drank ourselves some beers:" My first girlfriend, AJ, contacted me recently. She's doing well. Also, it's good timing, because I could sort of use her insight and advice to deal with some situations going on. I really shouldn't get into it here. And it's really not entertaining. Probably shouldn't be on a blog. Where's my editor?

"Well it's the same old story: Everywhere I go I get slandered. Libeled. I hear words I never heard in the Bible. And I'm oh so tired, but I'm trying to keep my customer satisfied:" I typed out a nice long thing about an issue I'm having at work, but then I wised up and saved it in a draft where it will never see the light of day. Long story short: I'm trying to advocate in one of my case clients' best interests because nobody else on the planet does, and other people with big fancy job titles that require big fancy degrees drastically disagree with my assessments, then occasionally imply bad things about me. We're getting to the "snippy note writing" phase of disagreement. Also, has anyone else heard of this song? It's my favorite Simon and Garfunkel song, but it always gets left out of the canon, and I've never heard it played outside of my apartment.

Some Random Day Of the Week YouTube

2008-01-29T05:31:00.000-05:00

Sorry. I had no clue what to post for this week's YouTube post. I'm afraid the well might be running dry, and I'll have to actually search for stuff again, which is dangerous because of all the "Here's me talking" videos which seem to be dominating the dang site lately. Anyway, after much searching, I think I've found something you'll enjoy. No promises for next week, though.

Peer Pressure

2008-01-29T01:17:00.000-05:00

Scene: Andy is clearing all the trash out of his apartment.

...my baby wrote me a letter BOW! BOW! BOW, BA BOW BOW!

Hey! There's Jeff's dumb girly alcohol that everyone always makes fun of.

Yeah, I should probably throw that out. It's probably three years old by now.

Dude, you can't throw that out. It's not yours.

Plus it'd be wasteful. You can't waste stuff. It's not right.

Not at all.

Can't throw it out.

Oh c'mon now. Seriously. I don't drink, and even if I did, I'm pretty sure I couldn't even stoop to that level. And Jeff isn't coming back for it. I'm throwing it out.

Ha ha, look, it's even got a raspberry print on the inside label. How precious.

Seriously, does this even count as alcohol? I say no.

Agreed. Not alcohol. Let's drink it and find out why everyone makes fun of it.

Oooh! Good idea.

No. Not a good idea at all. Every time I drink, I get pissed off for no good reason and end up miserable.

Well, has it ever occurred to you that maybe the reason you live in a grossly disgusting apartment is that you aren't pissed off enough?

Definitely. Plus, if you throw it away, the bag will get heavy. I'm not going to carry that heavy bag down the stairs.

Good call. Let's just drink it, laugh at Jeff's horrible taste from three years ago, and then get back to cleaning.

No no no. It's three years old. It's got to be bad by now.

Oh, I'm sure it was bad to begin with.

Plus, it's in a bottle. A sealed bottle! It'll probably be good forever.

Yeah, just like when you freeze or jar things, they stay good forever. Same with bottling. I'm sure of it.

No no no. I'm relatively sure that's not true. I think you just made it up.

Makes sense though. And let's not fool ourselves: if it were a Diet Coke, you would have drank it already, so I don't think you've got a leg to stand on regarding the freshness issue.

Mmmm. Diet Coke. Now I'm thirsty. Lucky thing we've got a drink in our hand.

Time to take a break.

NO. I've got work to do.

And I'm sure this will get you in the right mindset. All right. Bottoms up.

Ick. I'm not too impressed.

Ha ha! It tastes like a frickin' burning Dum Dum.

You've got to be kidding me. This isn't anything like alcohol. Drink some more.

I don't want to.

Neither do I, but the sink is full of dirty dishes, and the bathroom is clogged, so we don't have a place to pour it out.

That is dumb.

Just drink it.

Fine. God, why am I drinking this?

It'll motivate you. You know, somehow I don't think this is meant to be drank at room temperature.

It just adds to the appeal, really.

Ugh. Let's just finish the damn thing and get back to work.

And put the rest in the fridge since we're not throwing them out.

**Roughly 30 minutes later, while putting a load of jeans in the dryer**

Ugh. That drink didn't really agree with the stomach one bit.

In hindsight, drinking a three year old semi-alcoholic beverage after recovering from a gastric illness might not have been the best idea we've ever had.

Really, someone probably should've talked us out of that one.

Seems to be helping with the head injury though. The headaches all but gone.

Yeah, but that's only because the other side is pounding too now. Why do I listen to you two?

Beats me. You're the smart one here. Why don't you ever talk us out these idea?

Wait, check out that lock on the dryer! I bet we could jimmy that lock with the restraint key and open it up!

No, that's theft.

Well, then we'll only take the money we put in. That way, we're not stealing from any of our neighbors.

Just the landlord who refuses to fix the pipes which ensure that there are always dirty dishes in the sink.

And he's got it coming.

Who charges their residents to do laundry, anyway? That's pretty rude.

STOP!

Tune in next time, as Andy breaks his restraint key in a dryer lock, then steals a ceiling tile to replace the ruined one in his apartment.

Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

2008-01-26T02:00:00.000-05:00

I hate movies that last too long. Yes, Mr. Filmmaker, I realize that all of your ideas were just pure brilliance, but they're not all relevant to this movie, so please just stick them in the bin for next time, and hire a freaking editor. This practice most often infuriates me when a movie decides to give you details of everything that happened to everybody and everything in the movie after the action and development has stopped instead of just ending the friggin movie. For a particularly awful example of this, see Casino Royale, or just a few more years and see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Lawrence of Arabia is 3 hours and 40 minutes long, and it didn't remotely seem too long to me. There was enough good plot and character development happening the whole time that I was intrigued until the end. It took me a long time to talk myself into seeing it. Over a month, actually, but it's a good one if you've got four hours that you'd rather not spend doing anything constructive. Steven Spielberg cites this as his favorite movie of all time, and even has a little spiel about it on the bonus features disc. I think the most telling thing about how much I liked this movie is that after spending 220 minutes watching it, I took the time to peruse the special features. Anyway, if there's one thing I'm not going to do, it's argue with the creator of Animaniacs about what is and is not awesome.

My favorite dialogue:

Tafas: Truly now, you are a British officer?
Lawrence: Yes.
Tafas: From Cairo?
Lawrence: Yes.
Tafas: You did not ride from Cairo?
Lawrence: No, thank heavens. It's 900 miles. I came by boat.
Tafas: And before? From Britain?
Lawrence: Yes.
Tafas: Truly?
Lawrence: From Oxfordshire.
Tafas: Is that a desert country?
Lawrence: No. A fat country. Fat people.
Tafas: You are not fat?
Lawrence: No. I'm different.

So, yeah, David Lean is quickly climbing the ranks of "Directors whose movies I'll see just because they directed it," and is now ranked just behind The Coen Brothers and Clint Eastwood.

Oh, and speaking of the Coen Brothers, I watched a TOTALLY ilLEGAL COPY of No Country For Old Men last week too. After the Oscars, I presume I'll be writing an exasperated post about how the Coens were shafted again.

Ok, so time to update the sadly neglected Board.

Ick

2008-01-24T23:24:00.000-05:00

Guys, I'm just not feeling so well these days. I appear to be suffering from some sort of gross intestinal illness. It's, as I said, gross. I'm pretty sure I got it from work, as over half our residents have been placed on a clear liquid diet for digestion problems in the past week. It's not fun. Not one bit fun.

So, January continues to be not a banner month for this blog. And since February annually sucks, I'll probably get back to my usual awesome posting sometime around mid-March.

Post-Monday YouTube

2008-01-22T01:33:00.001-05:00

Things I've Learned This Week

2008-01-21T06:03:00.001-05:00

1. If you say, "I've always wanted to be able to draw a perfect heptagon," people will look at you like you're crazy.

2. If you ever get a quesadilla maker, find out if it prefers certain sized tortillas prior to buying two packs of tortillas.

3. Seriously, can you draw a perfect heptagon? It's hard.

4. If you stop blogging for awhile, people might think you have a social life, when in fact you're just addicted to a video game.

5. Really, the topmost point almost always sticks out funny.

6. Half of my coworkers seem to believe I'm spying for the hospital administration, trying to ferret out any whistle-blowers.

7. They're half-right. I spy for the administration, yes, but I have a hard-earned reputation for reporting patient abusers, not whistle-blowers.

8. If someone spends their "break" sitting in the nurse's station of their assigned unit yelling at patients, and then yelling at patients for arguing with them while they're on their break, no one should ever take that person seriously on how to build a therapeutic environment or establish a good rapport with the clients.

9. And yet, people do.

10. Drawing perfect nonagons has no appeal for me whatsoever. Heptagons are the thing, I tell you.

Other Things I Hear on Oldies Radio

2008-01-15T01:53:00.000-05:00

I believe it was Friday when I heard a promo for 103.5's website which told me of a poll where I could vote for which presidential candidate has the hottest wife.

This has disturbed me greatly. It's the frickin' oldies station. They don't have shock jocks. I'm reasonably sure I'm one of only three males from the 18-30 demographic who listens to it. Why is this necessary, and who is it being directed toward?

Well, I've mulled it over, and here's the Only Possible Explanation: Spousal hotness is really the only issue oldies radio listeners care about, and are dependent upon their radio station's web site to inform them of the options. Thus, this is actually a public service provided to their consumers, and not a misguided and inexplicable promotional stunt.

And so, despite my initial revulsion and confusion over the idea, I have decided it is in fact a good thing, because really, is there even a debate here? It's like asking, "Who is the hottest cartoon character ever?" People might think for a second until one person says, "Jessica Rabbit" and everyone else says, "oh yeah." Hopefully, the "First Hottie" method of voting will catch fire, and in a year, we can all celebrate the first day of the Kucinich Administration.

Monday Morning YouTube

2008-01-14T06:29:00.000-05:00

Ah, this video never fails to amuse me. I mean, really, everything, the song, the fake instrument playing, the lip-syncing, the mustaches, it's all perfect. Just bask in its glory.

Still Feeling Good

2008-01-14T00:18:00.000-05:00

1. Thursday: At work, I got invited to go to a bar. With a chick. That isn't dating anyone else. Felt pretty awesome.

2. Friday: Nobody asked how it went. I'm assuming it's because everyone knows how irresistible I am, and so there's only one way such an evening could go.

3. Well, actually, we stayed for awhile, yakked, spent a few bucks playing a touch screen game, and then she went home to make spaghetti. I went home and made a pizza.

4. Saturday: An old resident who had been discharged called me up and asked me to come hang out with him at his assisted living house so he could tell me what an awesome staff I was. I happily obliged. Then watched football and Live Free or Die Hard with my dad.

5. Sunday: Watched the Colts be stupid with Dad. Sorta watched the Cowboys/Giants tilt as well, but found it epically boring at times. Then we watched the Amazing Race and the premier of a miniseries called Comanche something-or-other. I don't know. I wouldn't have chosen it based on its premise or title, but it did feature Steve Zahn, and Steve Zahn is pretty much always entertaining.

So, I'm keeping busy by keeping myself not busy with other people. It's a good strategy so far, but it does not make for exciting blog posts. Hopefully, I'll start feeling creative sometime soon.

Well I've been smiling lately

2008-01-11T02:13:00.001-05:00

...thinking about the good things to come.

In my life, that is. My blog will be as lame as ever. Sorry.

The Cultural Contributions of the Bush Administration

2008-01-09T05:52:00.000-05:00

Seeing as how it's election time, I thought this would be an ideal time to reflect on some of the more positive contributions of George Bush's time in office. Yes, the entire presidency has been an unmitigated disaster, but that doesn't mean we can't remember the good times:

1. "I hear there's rumors on the internets." What did we do before we called the internets the internets? Does anyone not call the internets the internets at this point? Plus, I still don't know if the internets is singular or plural. Is it "The internets is abuzz with rumors," or "The internets are abuzz with rumors?" I don't know.

2. Talking like Donald Rumsfeld. Is it fun? Most certainly. Will it get on people's nerves? Without a doubt. Is it an effective way to get out of any argument, ever? Well, golly, yes. And while we're in the neighborhood...

3. The 1000 Styles of Donald Rumsfeld. In a somewhat related topic, the next time you read a serial/soap opera comic strip, preferably one that just features two people talking with no action going on, go find a friend or coworker and try to act it out. Crazy, hilariously awkward body language ensues almost every time. Mary Worth is particularly good for this. I think Donald Rumsfeld is the only person who actually gestures like that.

4. Weapons of Mass Destruction-related Program Activities: No one seems to love this one as much as I do, but I find it to be an extremely useful phrase to have around. For instance, right now I'm engaged in some Awesome Blog Posting-related Program Activities. Tomorrow night calls for some Blue Jean Washing-related Program Activities, as well as some Quesadilla Making-related Program Activities. I think it's the ridiculous phraseology combined with the desperation and refusal to admit he was wrong that really makes this so much fun.

A Two-Fer

2008-01-08T02:12:00.001-05:00

First, The Godfather Part II (1974)

There are people who say that The Godfather is the best movie ever made. These people are wrong. Even if you mob movies are your favorite thing in the world, The Godfather Part II is pretty much superior to its predecessor in all ways, including the vital realization that Michael Coreleone is really a jerk and that nobody in his family, or in any other for that matter, likes him.

Of course, it could be the fact that it wasn't based on the book, and thus I didn't really know what was going to happen, unlike with the first movie. Ah well.

Moving on, In the Heat Of the Night (1967):

You know what's nice? When things are exactly as awesome as you expect them to be. Since my exposure to this film consisted of reading the blurb about it on the back of the DVD case in Family Video and hearing that Sydney Poitier is an amazingly good actor, I had pretty high hopes for it. And it was great.

Part of the appeal for me probably came from simply relating to the plight of Virgil Tibbs. While being a victim of racial prejudice isn't a problem I have to deal with, I do have plenty of experience with being the smartest person in the room and not being able to hide my contempt for some of the incompetent people I'm working with. I understand the hatred Virgil has for close-minded small towns. I feel his frustration when he cannot leave when he wants. While I haven't been chased by a lynch mob in recent years, I've been regarded suspiciously by my peers ever since 6th grade, when it was no longer cool or acceptable to be smarter than them. And I understand the feeling of being resigned to a rather solitary existence both of the main characters express.

Also, Tibbs is able to solve the mystery without the modern conveniences of slow motion close-ups of the relevant evidence while techno music plays in the background, which should be impressive to everyone. He has to make due with some early funk instead.

So there we go. Let's update the sadly neglected Board.

Is there any lamer feeling

2008-01-07T05:59:00.001-05:00

...than realizing that you haven't been updating your blog much, feeling like you should, but then realizing that you haven't really been turning your life experiences into amusing anecdotes for the consumption of the entire world, so you just sort of sit and stare at a screen, thinking of possible topics that could strike people's interest, only to read something along the lines of "...and work has been a little rough lately, and I'm always tired when I get home" and realize that you're even boring yourself with your boring, boring life?

Seriously, is there a lamer feeling than realizing you are no longer cool enough to be a blogger, a subset of the population known for not being cool enough to have active normal social lives? I think not.

Do you know how this happens? Long-term storylines have anti-climactic endings that are boring to report. The super cool dayshift position job I applied for two months ago? No one has heard anything about it. We think it's really an urban legend to keep us overqualifieds around.

The cute girls at Hardee's that always flirt with me? One quit, one was moved to the back, and their replacements aren't particularly interesting or fun to flirt with. I still get free stuff though.

Mark Trail? The villain confessed everything to Mark with little to no detective work on the part of our inexplicably present hero, and absolutely no face-punching. No one is even destroying or saving the environment this time. What's the point of a Mark Trail Storyline that can't incorporate these sound elements?

My plan to make stuff with a Quesadilla Maker? I left all my cheese at a friend's house, and haven't gotten any more yet.

My car troubles? Still existing unabated. Not going to stop anytime soon, as far as I can tell.

Everywhere I look, there's the potential for excitement, and everytime, nothing resembling excitement or action takes place. Do you know what the most exciting post topic I've come up with in the past week is? Probably not, since I live my life in complete isolation from the rest of the world, so I'll tell you: The Police's "Every Breath You Take": Does it belong on Oldies Radio?

Hell, I might as well write that post, and save it for another rainy week. Which will probably be next week. Until then, you can all decide on your own, and then check your answers with mine sometime next week. It's like an interactive blog game, except without that "fun" element that most games require.

Sheesh. I think I should end this one. I think I should not click publish while I'm at it.

Monday YouTube

2008-01-07T05:39:00.000-05:00

"You see... the bear doesn't know it's a competition."

A Quick Update Before I Sleep

2008-01-04T06:14:00.000-05:00

1. Fiction suggestions: good call. I haven't read anything in a while, so I'm open to suggestions.

2. I have a friend! Woo WOO! It's my friend Satya from high school. She's maybe the only person I know besides myself who can pull off wearing the "This is what AWESOME Looks Like!" shirt. Today is her birthday, which gave me a great excuse to call her up and hang out with her tonight.

3. I attempted to set a serious cockblock on a coworker tonight. He's bragged about his mastery of patient abuse to me before, and is generally full of shit at all times, so I don't feel remotely bad about it. In fact, I'm going to be disappointed with myself if I failed in this task.

4. Furthermore, the whole episode revealed something to me. Contrary to everything I've ever been told about myself, I have a hard time getting women because I'm not cocky, condescending, and conceited enough. It turns out my coworkers full of shititude and ridiculously inflated and unchecked ego is part of the appeal. This is sad, because there's simply no way I can detach myself that far from reality. My greatness is more understated, you see. And only intelligent women can see it, I think. Regrettably, intelligent women appear to be in short supply.

5. I've broken two automobiles since my last post.

6. I've also gotten a shiny new Quesadilla Maker. I bought cheese tonight, but unfortunately I left it at Satya's, so it'll be a couple nights before I get it back and try it. I'm hoping this experience goes so well that I can develop a new feature for this space in addition to "Monday YouTube," "Best Movie Reviews," and the excessively verbiose "Thoughts on Songs I Heard on the Radio Today." The new one: "Things you can make with a Quesadilla Maker."

7. I got the Quesadilla in a white elephant gift exchange. There were a variety of interesting gifts, with "unused appliances received as gifts in years past" being the favorite. Counter space in young married couples is apparently at a premium. A sandwich maker, a milkshake maker, a quesadilla maker, and a bread maker all showed up. I brought two gifts: a travel size magnetic "Nine Men's Morris" game, and Simon and Garfunkel's Greatest Hits. Simon and Garfunkel were not well-received at first, mainly because I'm quite sure everyone in my family already owns it. However, it's value rose later, when all of my siblings realized they had merely succeeded in trading their unused appliances for equally unused appliances, and the goal of "trading down" in order to get something much smaller appeared. Thus, when my sister Abby threw the Simon and Garfunkel back to grab a holiday mug and bowl set, Paul threw in the Quesadilla Maker to get it off his hands for the smaller CD, and I valiantly grabbed it in exchange for the candy dishes I won. The Nine Men's Morris game went to Joe, who was a pioneer in the "Grab the smallest gift and make a run for it" strategy.

Other gifts of note in the exchange: My little brother Aaron brought a cup. I cheap plastic cup from a pizza place in Muncie. It was easily the lamest White Elephant gift in history, or would be, if it weren't for the fact that Casey and Joe brought an exploding coffee maker that is almost guaranteed to spray scalding water all over the kitchen.

8. I've watched The Godfather Part II. I should do a review of it. Also, I fell asleep three times watching The Godfather Part III.

The Great Pretender

2007-12-31T02:31:00.000-05:00

Yes, I'm the Great Pretender,
Pretending that I'm doing well.
My need is such
I pretend too much
I'm lonely but no one can tell.

Yes, I'm the Great Pretender,
Adrift in a world of my own.
I play the game
but to my real shame
You've left me to grieve all alone.

*****

One adjective that will never, in any circumstances be used to describe me is 'inscrutable.' I do not play poker, because I cannot bluff. In fact, even when I'm trying very, very hard to be tactful and polite, my face pretty much gives away "God I hate everything about this" more often than not.

So, it's somewhat strange to me that I've been going through the most hellish three months I've had since at least college, with no real, in the flesh friends to confide in regularly, and practically no one has noticed. At work, my hallmarks as an attendant remain my constant smile and sense of humor, my near endless resources of patience, and my high, some might say frenetic or manic, energy levels. All of my coworkers knew about the disastrous ending to my relationship with Rachel, although not all knew the full extent of it, and all of them know about the neverending run of troubles I've been dealing with since then. Everyone thinks I'm fine, and that it's amazing that I'm doing so well and keeping so positive. The only coworker who truly knows what's going on is Kelli, who is pretty much my best friend these days, and that's because she cared enough to ask me about it, early and often.

So I've been wondering why, when everything else in my life appears to be falling around me, practically no one at work is aware that something serious is going on with me. Why can't anyone figure it out, when usually people can practically read my mind simply by looking at me?

And it hit me. I'm happiest at work. By far. Home consists of lots of pacing, lots of calling people to see if anyone is up for me to talk to, and lots of frantic searching for something, anything to occupy my time.

(Quick plug: ChessMaster 9000: Available for $10 at your local electronics store, featuring hours and hours and hours of chess strategy lessons by international grandmasters, including a course in competitive psychology by the guy that Searching For Bobby Fischer was about. Plus, dozens of AI Personalities of all skill levels to practice against. Practically guaranteed to keep your mind off of everything if you've ever wanted to learn to play chess.)

At work, though, I've got people to talk to, problems to solve, residents to counsel, on occasion pretty women to flirt with, and I love every second of it, and everyone at work likes me. And by everyone, I mean everyone. Even people I thought did not like me, like me. "Accepted" might not be the word to use; I'm still looked at as a ways off from the norm, and probably always will be, but since I'm a friendly and effective crazy, people tend to like me.

And so, for the first time in my life, I'm able to go through a slight depressive episode without everyone looking at me and asking me what's wrong with me, or if I'm doing all right, or telling me I look like crap and should probably go take a nap. Which sort of makes me think it's not really a depressive episode at all. It's just a temporary hole that needs to be filled with a friend or two. Now it's just a matter of finding worthwhile candidates.

Monday Morning YouTube

2007-12-31T00:57:00.000-05:00

Boot to the head!

2007-12-29T23:36:00.000-05:00

Man, has it been a long time since I paid a visit to Employee Health. Well, today, I got a return trip.

Last time, as you'll recall if you click through the above link, I was punched pretty hard in the back of the head by an autistic client with a history of aggression. He's young, and strong, and generally pretty scary looking, so my scuffle with him gained me some street cred among the other residents and the staff.

(By the way, he hasn't hit anyone for awhile, and spends most of his time laughing at jokes in his head, occasionally taking a break to tell us that he's tired of miniature woolly mastodons invading his room through his window every night. He's pretty much awesome at all times. Also, he now looks less scary and more like the lost member of The Commodores, which is also pretty much awesome.)

Today, though, I was escorting a resident to a medical hospital, because he was groaning and clutching his chest while showing impaired levels of consciousness and difficulty breathing. When you factor in that this resident has a very difficult time understanding and expressing pain, this was not a situation we took lightly. Anyways, factor in that this resident has major mental retardation, major schizophrenia, and is dependent on his routine, put him in pain and in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by strangers, and you pretty much have a recipe for disaster. Within an hour he was shouting threats at everyone, and eventually began swinging his fists and flailing his legs until he caught me in the right temple with his foot. I think I was just grazed; I suffered a headache (Pain Level 2) but nothing more, but since the headache didn't go away, I had to have an official employee health report when I got back.

Of course, the punchline is that this patient is elderly, uncoordinated, and merely a couple steps above decrepit, with the mentality of a sweet, approval-seeking four year old, so there was considerably less street cred to be had from this incident. However, if you think that stopped me from strutting around the unit saying things like "If you ever step to [Client], you'd better be prepared for the storm of fury he'll unleash," well, you just don't know me very well.

So yes, I was injured at work today. No, not seriously. And yes, I was made fun of mercilessly for it.

The Best of Jackson Browne

2007-12-27T01:39:00.000-05:00

Here's what I knew about Jackson Browne about 6 months ago:

1. He sang "Stay" and "Running on Empty".
2. He collaborated with Warren Zevon semi-regularly.

Upon repeated listenings of Running On Empty, I've decided I really like it. While shopping for Christmas presents for my family tonight, I found The Best of Jackson Browne on sale for $6. For six bucks, why not? asks I. You can't miss, I reply. So, here's my running thoughts on The Best of Jackson Browne, while I kill time until my mechanic opens at 7. This might not actually be interesting to read, since no one else can hear the album unless you happen to own it. It will, however, take a long time, and that's the goal at the moment.

1. Doctor My Eyes: Hey, I know this song! So this is Jackson Browne too. I could probably recognize his songs more easily if his songs weren't the archetypal example of baritone singer/songwriter. You know, the theme of people going to doctors to solve their emotional issues is not a new one in rock and roll. Except Jackson Browne wrote this one, so it's like that, only done better than pretty much everyone else who ever did it. Favorite line: "People go just where they will. I never noticed them until I got this feeling that it's later than it seems."

2. These Days: Not much to say about this one. It's a nice, moody ballad, pretty much exactly how you'd expect a nice moody ballad to sound. This one I don't relate to as much, as when I'm moody and down about my life, I tend to be more extroverted to try to jump start me out of it.
Favorite line: "Now if I seem afraid to live the life I've made in song, it's just that I've been losing for so long."

3. Fountain of Sorrow: Man, Jackson Browne has not lived a happy life. He's like an anti-rock star. Or like Emily Dickinson, if Emily Dickinson had ever been within a thousand miles of Cool. Actually, perhaps in past lives, Jackson Browne dumped Emily Dickinson for being a whiny whiner, and their future selves couldn't stop writing poetry about it.
Favorite Line: And while the future's there for anyone to change, still you know it seems easier sometimes to change the past.

4. Late for the Sky: I think everyone has sleptwalk through a relationship or two, just automatically saying easy things, and realizing there was nothing there except that both people wanted something to be there. Jackson Browne, however, seems to have done this with every woman he ever dated.
Favorite line: How long have I been dreaming I could make it right if I closed my eyes and tried with all my might to be the one you need?

5. The Pretender: You know, sad, reflective love ballads don't really move me too much. Yeah, yeah. Love ends. It's sad. Blah blah blah. But this... this... ok, now I'm depressed. Congratulations.
Favorite Line: Say a prayer for the pretender, who started out so young and strong, only to surrender.

6. Running on Empty: Ah, the Springsteen Gambit: Disguise your moody lyrics that might not make people feel good when they sing along with them by using an upbeat tempo and driving chords. I personally find this song to be completely awesome.
Favorite Line: In '69 I was 21 and I called the road my own. I don't know when that road turned into the road I'm on.

7. Call it a Loan: Apparently sometime in the late '70s, Jackson Browne discovered he could get more radio play if his songs had choruses. The regrettable side effect is that it cut into his lyric writing freedom. I can't really find any gripes about this song, but I can't find any particularly favorite lyrics either. It simply could be that I'm ODing on break-up songs too.

8. Somebody's Baby: I know this song too! I've never been particularly impressed by it when I've heard it on the radio. It's one in a million songs that do not prompt me to change the station, but don't prompt me to run out and buy an album or even worry about who sings it. Now, however, it makes much more sense in the context of Jackson Browne's body of work. Even the really attractive people that everyone wants to date are consigned to lives of loneliness becomes everyone assumes they're taken, to the point that they try their hardest to not notice them.

9. Tender is the Night: At some point in every rock career, you begin to say "I like the earlier stuff better." I think we've arrived here. Jackson Browne is straying from his tried-and-true "I'll just do what everyone else is doing, only much much better" plan, and trying to incorporate the pop sounds of the early 80s. It's not a good move. Not at all. The lyrics are stil pretty solid though.
Favorite Line: I can't walk back in after the way we fight when people outside are laughing, living lives we used to lead.

10. In the Shape of a Heart: Hey, uh, just re-read that last paragraph. Good lyrics, but I'm just not a fan of the instrumentation. I mean, I was ok with The Cars in the '80s, because they at least went all out with the electro-pop sound. This folksy synth mix doesn't work for me.
Favorite line: "[People] Speak in terms of belief and belonging, try to fit some name to their longing, People speak of love."

11. Lives in the Balance: Wait a minute, this isn't about breaking up with a girl and feeling really bad about it. In fact, this isn't about anybody breaking up with anyone at all. And it's not even a depressing acknowledgement that you'll never be as cool as you wanted to be. Are we sure this is Jackson Browne? Of course, the really depressing part about this anti-war, anti-crappy media anthem is that it could be written about pretty much any time in U.S. history.

12. Sky Blue and Black: Out of the 80s, thankfully, and Jackson can go back to his original style, only a little mellower. In case you were wondering, Jackson is still breaking up with people, and still feeling really bad about it. In fact, he wants to be friends and make her feel better. This, I think, is a bad idea almost 100% of the time.

13. The Barricades of Heaven: Also, Jackson is still coming to terms with the fact that he's not as cool as he always hoped he'd be.

14. The Rebel Jesus: This isn't really a true "Best of Jackson Browne", rather, it's a new song tacked on to the end. It deserves to be included; I like it better than the last five or so. It's a nice little anti-hymn about how not Christlike actual Christianity is, and how the real purpose is to make people feel good about themselves. Very ethereal sounding.
Favorite Line: In a life of hardship and of earthly toil, there's a need for anything that frees us.

15. The Next Voice You Hear: Hey, I know this one. I don't know how. I think it must be the radio, as it was released in 1997, which puts it way too late for me to hear it via one of my older sisters. Despite the moody and generally depressing tone of all of Jackson Browne's songs, this is the only one with what I would call a dark sound. Most of the others are simple mellow grooves.
Favorite Line: Throw down your truth and check your weapons.

Hmmm, I've still got four hours. Time to watch The Godfather Part II, I suppose.

A Jolly Happy Soul

2007-12-25T23:56:00.001-05:00

One More Time

2007-12-25T23:46:00.000-05:00

Pause it after 6 seconds. See that T-shirt? That's what I want for Christmas next year.

The Godfather (1972)

2007-12-24T10:47:00.000-05:00

Hey, I finally saw The Godfather. My expectations were tempered, because I'd already read the book, and I really liked it, so I pretty much assumed the movie wouldn't be anywhere near as good. Well, I was wrong. The Godfather is pretty much as good as everyone says it is, and most of the parts they cut from the book were parts I didn't care for anyway, like the Nino and Johnny in Hollywood parts and the Johnny wants his ex-wife back parts. Those were pretty boring, and I didn't miss them in the movie.

Now, I do want to address the part of The Godfather that annoyed me ten years ago when I read it and annoyed me again when I watched it. This would be the "Michael is exiled to Sicily and gets married only to see his wife murdered by his traitorous bodyguard" part. It annoys me because Appollonia has somewhere in the neighborhood of 5 lines in the movie and possibly less in the book, but I'm supposed to believe that Michael is close enough to her to fall in love with her while at the same time he's engaged to Kay Adams (at least, I think he was in the book; he wasn't in the movie). This part irked me in the book because it had no bearing on any other part of the plot, and is never even mentioned again. After Appollonia's car explodes, the very memory of her existence vanishes. The entire episode struck me as senseless; killing Appollonia off so that she won't have to be written into the rest of the plot is lazy, but there was no reason whatsoever we had to know what Michael Corleone did while exiled if it was going to have no bearing at all on the rest of the plot.

But the rest of the movie is really good. Hell, even that part is pretty good, just completely superfluous and mostly senseless. Update the Board, and move on.

Monday Morning YouTube

2007-12-24T00:03:00.001-05:00

I hate my car.

2007-12-22T15:05:00.001-05:00

That is all.

Platoon (1986)

2007-12-20T05:06:00.000-05:00

First, a big thank you to everyone who wished me birthday greetings, including Casey, Mom, Dad, Lindzy, BerryBird, Nadine, Liz, Galen, Tavis, Nando, Kelli, Walter, and anyone else I might have forgotten.

Now, on with the review. I'll admit I was not very pumped to see this one. It's about the Vietnam War, and I feel The Deer Hunter covered this territory as well as any movie ever could. I got a little bit more pumped when I read the opening credits and saw lots of familiar names in addition to Willem Dafoe, who I thought was the star of it and also is fricking awesome.

I genuinely liked this movie, but it suffered from my biggest pet peeve when it comes to movies of any kind: pretentious, preachy dialogue that no one in real life ever actually says. In this movie, they try to pass that stuff off as Taylor, the main character, narrating letters he's writing home, but it still doesn't work for me. I'm plenty smart enough to figure out that the soldiers are fighting themselves as well as the NVA, and that the conflict between Barnes and Elias is a physical manifestation of that struggle without Taylor telling me that's what's happening. I've not seen enough of Oliver Stone's work to know if this is a regular tactic of his or not, but it really needs to go.

As I said, I liked this movie, I'd recommend it, and I probably wouldn't mind seeing it again. It suffers from the fact that The Deer Hunter, a movie that I'm not going to see again because it almost traumatized me, preceded it by 8 years and forever set the standard for movies about Vietnam. However, it is helped by the fact that it deals more with the atrocities of war as opposed to its effect on its participants, and because 19 years later, Crash would come along and take preachy, pretentious dialogue that nobody says in real life to new levels of ridiculousness, which makes the few instances of it in Platoon seem much more forgiveable.

So, in all, good movie. Excellent acting, good directing, a bit heavy-handed writing.

Also, what are the odds that two stars of this bleak, dark drama about the atrocities humanity is capable of would go on to star in popular, light-hearted sitcoms? Probably better than the odds that two stars of Predator would go on to become governors, but still doesn't seem likely.

Time to update the Board.

26 Years Ago, Just Before Noon

2007-12-17T15:56:00.001-05:00

Happy Birthday, me! I love me so much!

One reason I love my job

2007-12-15T23:17:00.000-05:00

Conversations like this:

Client: Who cut my fingernails?
Andy: I don't know.
Client: Who cut my fingernails?
Andy: Um, Santa Claus?
Client: Noooooooo.
Andy: Um, Jesus?
Client: (scoffs) Jesus can't have scissors.

Things that aren't worth their own post

2007-12-15T01:46:00.000-05:00

1. Flirting: It turns out I've upped my game. This was not hard, because if my game was Super Mario Bros., I went from the first level where you might have to jump on a couple slow moving enemies or over some small pits, and which can be completely bypassed via pipe, to that crazy Bridge Level where all the fish come flying toward you and you have to dodge them all and the flying turtles while not falling off the bridge, and everything is much more exciting. Does this make any sense? Ok, well, the point is that today I flirted my way to a free drink, a free order of fries, and a free brownie. Before too long, all of my meals at Hardee's will be completely comped! And who knows, maybe flirting is useful in ways not related to getting free food that is terrible for me. Only time will tell.

2. "Do They Know It's Christmas?" is still the best Christmas song. "Christmas Shoes" is still the worst, but it now has some serious competition.

3. Movies: taking a bit of a break from the Best Pictures to watch more Christmasy fare. Also, I watched The Iron Giant again the other night. I'm thinking if you don't like The Iron Giant, you just simply don't have a soul. Also on the movie front, a coworker brought in Black Dog for the clients to watch today. Why? I don't know. But, ever since that fateful day in 2004 when I saw it for sale in Wal-Mart headlining the acting talents of Patrick Swayze, Randy Travis, and Meat Loaf, I've simply felt compelled to watch it. I don't understand how I've not seen it. I mean, it's about truck drivers, and the cast consists of a dancer, a country singer, and, a rock musician. It strikes me that the appeal of this movie might not be universal, but I cannot imagine a reality in which this movie is not awesome.

4. eHarmony. During my spending binge on Tuesday, I decided to take advantage of a super low 3 months for the price of one dealie from eHarmony.com, and it's already bearing fruit. After doing whatever it is the eHarmony RoboMatcher 9000 does, it has found a cute social worker who sounds really cool in her profile that appears interested in me. Granted, it had to extend its search to the outskirts of St. Louis in order to find this woman, but you can't say it's ineffective. Plus, I already have a friend in St. Louis, so if this works out, I've got a vacation to plan and save up for. Then, in maybe another year, I'll have enough time saved to take another trip to see her. Go team.

5. The Wizard of Oz: Don't you think it would be much more entertaining if Dorothy actually sounded like she was from Kansas? "Wayle, I's a fixin' to see the Wizard! I reckon if he can get me on back to KANzass, he shore can get you a brain."

Can't. Stop. Pacing.

2007-12-13T05:57:00.001-05:00

What the crap. It's 6:00 am. I've been walking around my apartment building all night long, up and down stairs, doing 6 loads of laundry. In between loads of laundry, I've been tearing up and down my hallway, back and forth, all night. And I'm still not tired.

I think my toes are getting calloused from all the walking I've done tonight. Seriously. Somebody pass the Ambien. Where's The English Patient when I need it? Or maybe a copy of The Old Man and the Sea would do the trick. I don't know.

Thoughts on Songs I Heard on the Radio

2007-12-12T04:26:00.000-05:00

Today I was positively bored out of my mind. After being awake for 2 hours, I realized that I had already done everything I wanted to do, and was facing the prospect of at least 10 more hours of consciousness and little else. So I decided to go spend some money, since I have some extra cash to do so for the first time in months.

It was awesome, and I'm in one excellent mood. I felt the urge to get Waffle House hasbrowns at one point, and since there are no Waffle Houses in this area for reasons beyond my comprehension, I had to cross the Ohio line in search of one. Due to my ridiculously high spirits on this gratuitous excursion of capitalism, my radio comments were a little more manic than usual.

"Homeward Bound," Simon and Garfunkel: You know what's more than a little creepy? What Paul Simon says his "loved one" does while he's out touring: Sitting around silently waiting for Paul Simon to return while listening to Paul Simon's music. I suppose that's possible. I think, given Paul Simon's track record on marriages, that it was far more likely that she was having affairs.

Also, current and aspiring rock stars: you may think someday that it's a good idea to write a song about how hard it is to be a rock star. Unless you have Paul Simon's talent at writing lyrics, I don't recommend it, because you'll just sound whiny.

"99 Luftballons," Nena: I really like this song, but I'd never heard the German version on the radio before today. I had quite the wonderful time pretending like I could sing along in German and waiting for a few words I recognize: krieg, minister, kriegminister, Captain Kirk. I'm not sure I understand why the radio went for the German version other than, "Hey, we're Mix 107.7 and nothing we do makes any sense, ever." I suppose there's probably a rabid Nena fanbase that denounces the English version as derivative drivel that doesn't compare to the original German, or something. At any rate, I think we can all agree that there's not nearly enough nuclear holocaust on the radio these days.

"Bohemian Rhapsody," Queen: I think I need to reevaluate how I decide if a band is good or not. Has this song ever been covered? Because I cannot imagine anyone ever doing it and it not being a complete train wreck. But somehow it's awesome when Queen sings it, because they're that good. But, just for fun, try to imagine what Bohemian Rhapsody would sound like if Creed tried to cover it. Just try.

"Summer Nights," the cast of Grease: Apparently the radio station was giving away a free copy of High School Musical 2 to the third caller after they played Summer Nights. This, I'm afraid, is not nearly enough justification to play the Grease Soundtrack on the radio. If Grease is coming on the radio, the prize in the accompanying contest should be at least a new car. And if you simply must play something from Grease in the middle of December, wouldn't there be something a little more appropriate than "Summer Nights"? Although I always chuckle at "We stayed out until ten o'clock!" Crazy kids.

More disturbing than the simple fact that the radio was playing this, however, was the statement that "Summer Nights" is the most popular karaoke song of all time. The thing is, it takes two people to sing it. I'm now having mental images of annoying, overintoxicated couples slurring through this song, messing up all the harmonies in the duets, missing all of the key changes, and forgetting most of the words except for "Tell me more, tell me more," much to the dismay and horror of everyone else in the bar. The world is a frightening place sometimes. God. Whoever won that copy of High School Musical 2 better enjoy it for putting me through all this.

"Storybook Love," Willy Deville: Hearing this on the radio made me think, "Hey, what year was The Princess Bride released? Because, assuming it was not 1988, whatever movie won that year probably did not deserve to win Best Picture." It turns out it was 1987. Since I haven't seen The Last Emperor yet, I'll try to withhold judgment. As it is, it merely joins The English Patient and Around the World in 80 Days on the list of movies I'm already pretty sure didn't need to win Best Picture. Meanwhile, "Storybook Love" lost out to "I've Had the Time of My Life" for Best Original Song, ensuring that 1988 joins pretty much every year the award has existed that the Academy screwed it up.

Monday Morning YouTube

2007-12-10T05:30:00.000-05:00

A Conversation From Work

2007-12-10T05:11:00.001-05:00

Kelli: So what movies did you watch while you were off?
Andy: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and Unforgiven.
Kelli: How'd you like Unforgiven?
Andy: Good. Really good.
Kelli: Yeah, I thought you'd like it. What's next?
Andy: The Sting.
Kelli: Never seen it.
Andy: It's from '73, and it's got ragtime music.
Kelli: Um, ok.
Andy: Should be awesome. I'm considerably more pumped for the '70s than any other decade.
Kelli: Why's that?
Andy: More movies I've heard of, more movies that sound cool.
Kelli: What do you have to watch still?
Andy: Hmm, 70 is Patton. Meh. I've got it, so I'll get it out of the way soon.
Kelli: Yeah, I don't want to see that.
Andy: 71 is The French Connection. I've heard it's cool.
Kelli: Yeah.
Andy: And then we have The Godfather, The Sting, and The Godfather Part II.
Kelli: Man, I wish I could watch those with you.
Andy: Then I've already seen Cuckoo's Nest and Rocky. Network should've won in 76.
Kelli: Hey, I like Rocky.
Andy: And 77 is, is, is... Annie Hall.
Kelli: I don't know how I feel about Woody Allen.
Andy: And 78 was the Friggin Deer Hunter. ::shudders and twitches:: And 79 is Kramer vs. Kramer.
Kelli: Oh my god. I love that movie. Have you seen that one?
Andy: Nope, but I've heard it's really good.
Kelli: Wait, wasn't that from 81?
Andy: No, 1979. 1979 was Kramer vs. Kramer.
Kelli: Oh.
Andy: 81 was, was, Chariots of Fire. 1981 was definitely Chariots of Fire.
Kelli: Guess I was confused.
Andy: Yeah, 1979 was definitely Kramer vs. Kramer. Because 1980 is Ordinary People.
Kelli: Hey, calm down. How many minutes until Wapner?
Andy: (checks watch) Oh no. It's 6:16. I'm definitely supposed to be on break. Definitely going on break now. Can't talk to Kelli while I'm on break. Gotta go to Hardee's on break. Hardee's. (wanders off talking to himself).

The Sting (1973)

2007-12-10T04:28:00.000-05:00

I'm really glad The Sting won Best Picture. People in Best Pictures suffer from mental illnesses, get traumatized by wars, get shot up by mobsters, lose boxing matches, and witness genocide. It all gets very draining after a spell.

Here's what I knew about The Sting going in:

1. It's about confidence men.
2. It takes place in the '30s and features a Scott Joplin adapted score.
3. It has Robert Redford and Paul Newman in it.

And somehow, it managed to be even cooler than I thought it'd be. Everyone walks around with sinister mustaches like Mark Trail villains and pull slick shenanigans while delivering slick lines. Even Eileen Brennan is cool in this, and the only thing I've ever seen her in is Clue, when she played the hopelessly annoying and dorky Mrs. Peacock.

All in all, it's an entertaining and engaging little show that I can't find any reason to dislike. Nothing too deep, but it's a nice change of pace from the dark, dire, and depressing that usually dominates this list.

Time to update the Board. I'm now 1/3 of the way finished with the list. Next up: People get shot and killed in a war. Should be a good time.

Unforgiven (1992)

2007-12-08T04:49:00.000-05:00

I'm tired, and I have to wake up in time to go to a party tomorrow, so I'll do this really quickly.

When asked about the criticism surrounding the thematic material of Million Dollar Baby, Clint Eastwood remarked, ""I've gone around in movies blowing people away with a .44 magnum. But that doesn't mean I think that's a proper thing to do."

Unforgiven is a movie made by a man who was in too many movies where he ran around blowing people away with a .44 magnum. Every character in this movie is exposed as a fool for trying to solve their problems by shooting people. I didn't like it as much as I liked Million Dollar Baby, but I liked it enough that "Directed by Clint Eastwood" is all the endorsement I need to see a movie. "Directed by Clint Eastwood" + "Starring Morgan Freeman" = "I better have a damn good reason why I haven't seen this movie yet.

Time to update the Board. And then time to sleep.

All in all, an awesome day.

2007-12-07T21:28:00.001-05:00

My car is fixed. I took it to Weesner's, the local garage in town, and the mechanic regretfully told me that I won't be able to get it in until the 18th. Since I can't drive it anywhere else, I agree, and go to drive it home, only to have it die completely in front of Dollar General, half a block away.

Just when all hope was lost, however, Boomhauer came out of Dollar General, helped me push the car into a parking lot, looked at the engine, and found the problem: a missing belt that powered the alternator and power steering. Then he offered to take me to buy a new belt, all the while talking very very fast in a strong hillbilly twang. We arrived at the part store, and lo and behold, his good friend Bill was working. Bill, not being a regular employee at the store, which apparently has no organizational system whatsoever, got lost while repeatedly asking what kind of car and engine the part was for. Then we found the belt, which cost $30. I pull out the debit card, and Bill informs me that he doesn't know how to work the card reader, so he needs cash. No problem, says Boomhauer, who then runs me to my bank to get the money. Along the way, I learn that Boomhauer's daughter worked at the Burger King that adjoins the Shell I worked at. We pay for the belt, tax free because Bill couldn't add up the tax, and then Boomhauer and I rush back to my car to install the belt.

Regrettably, the belt proved to be tough to install. Even after I went back to my apartment to get my deluxe tools, Boomhauer couldn't get it attached, and I was my usual automotively-useless self. So we hatched a plan: Boomhauer jumped my car, and we drove into Dublin to his friend Dale Gribbel's garage. After a long conference, Dale decided to take the tenser wheel out completely and burn the stuck bolt off. He then berates Boomhauer by saying "I can't believe you didn't think of that one." I keep mostly quiet. Dale then installs the belt with no further hassle, and no one accepts any payment. I pay them $20 anyway. I gave it to Boomhauer, who gave it to Dale.

So my car was fixed for the low, low price of $50, parts and labor, plus two hours of entertainment provided by some rather overfriendly blue collar types. But, since they fixed my car, please understand that my tone is respectful mocking, not to be confused with malicious mocking.

Now I'm doing my laundry, and it turns out that I forgot to put a couple of packets of parmesan cheese from a dinner at work into our condiment drawer so we have them when we need them. Instead, they stayed in my pants pocket, and as a result all of my jeans smell faintly of baked pasta.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)

2007-12-07T03:33:00.001-05:00

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is one of three movies to win all five major Academy Awards (Picture, Actor, Actress, Director, Screenplay). Since I saw the play in college, I knew the story and knew what to expect, so I was mostly watching this one for the acting, which was stellar without exception.

Louise Fletcher's portrayal of Nurse Ratched, in particular, was amazing. According to the special features, the cast and crew were encouraged to spend most of their time getting to know the patients and staff at the hospital it was filmed at. Fletcher must have paid close attention. I recognized many of the tricks she used to manipulate the patients on her ward. For instance, taking a vote is always a surefire way to stop an upstart. On my unit at work, we have on patient who will say no to everything, another who will say yes to everything, one who always insists she's watching the show but cannot name a single thing that happened, and two more who will throw conniptions if they don't get to watch their programs but will leave the room until it's over. Staff can control any vote, and it's difficult for patients to argue with them.

I liked the play when I watched it in college. I watched it a little differently now that I've worked in a mental hospital myself.

Also, Jack Nicholson in The Departed isn't worthy to be Jack Nicholson in One...'s understudy.

Nothing left to do now but update the Board.

Thoughts on Songs I Heard on My Mom's Van's Radio

2007-12-06T22:59:00.001-05:00

"My Hands," Jewel: I heard this on the local Christmas station. They added a backup choir and some chimes, and all of a sudden, "My Hands" is a Christmas song, despite having no holiday themed content whatsoever. That move is so brilliant that I'm surprised most soft adult contemporary pop stars don't try similar hijinx.

"Here Comes Santa Claus": You know what's awesome about this song? Very little, BUT, the last line "Let's give thanks to the Lord above 'cause Santa Claus comes tonight!" is certainly awesome. If there's one thing I do not do enough of, it's thanking a being who may or may not exist that a fictional character who everyone above the age of 12 knows does not exist is coming tonight, even though he's not because he doesn't exist. That sounds like a productive use of my time, right there.

"Hey There Delilah," Plain White T's: I like this song, and probably would not make fun of it if I were in a better mood, but that line about how the singer will be making history, well, I'm just not seeing the world being set on fire by three chord acoustical guitar and a five note singing range.

That's Totally Messed Up, Dudes.

2007-12-06T22:36:00.000-05:00

Of course, I'm an excellent driver.

2007-12-05T18:38:00.001-05:00

I got a late start to work today, and in an attempt to make up time in bad weather, lost control of my vehicle and ended up in a cornfield.

Then I got to pull myself out of the car and stomp through snow banks looking for someone with a phone. After three houses, I finally found someone who was home. It was a mean old lady who refused to open the door for me, even when I made the universal "I really need to make a phone call" hand signal. I was soaking wet, and it was freezing outside. Evil, evil woman.

Luckily, some friendly dudes were moving into another house a few houses down, and they called a tow truck for me, who succeeded in pulling me out of the cornfield. In the process, some dude didn't see us, didn't slow down in time, and ended up driving into the cornfield himself. I felt bad.

Now the poor car has electrical problems of the "no power steering or lights" variety. Not only that, but the radio isn't working, killing off at least 80% of my blog's content.

Obviously, my car might have made it TO work, but driving home in bad weather at 10:45 pm without any headlights seemed a task I was not up for, so I had to turn around and go home, where I epically failed to find a car to use to get back to work and had to burn my last, precious sick day. I'm going to have to dip into personal days now. Luckily, the timekeepers allowed me to reschedule the holiday that I was planning to use for something fun from my birthday to tomorrow so I can try to get my car fixed with my new paycheck, which was going to be the first paycheck in almost two months that I was going to be able to keep.

And that's the crushing part. I had made it. I had lived for two months in abject poverty, but had managed to cover the bills without bumming any money off of my parents, and now I was going to be able to do things again. Except my car needs to be fixed now, and the next paycheck is going to go toward rent and utilities. My hopes of having money are dashed before I can even pick up the paycheck. The fact that these wounds are all self-inflicted doesn't make me feel the least bit better. Argh.

The Bridge On the River Kwai

2007-12-05T05:21:00.000-05:00

Movies about war frequently irritate me. A lot of them like to preach to the audience about how noble and selfless and courageous the soldiers are, and characterization is frequently one-sided: the noble Americans take on the evil Japanese, or Germans, or Vietnamese, or Russians, or what have you.

Thus, my expectations were not too high with The Bridge on the River Kwai. First, it's a war movie. Second, it was written in the fifties. Third, well, I don't have a third, but the fifties were pretty dang annoying, so it should count twice. My fears were pleasantly proven wrong.

TBOTRK works because it does not fall in the trap of painting good guys and bad guys, and every major character is portrayed sympathetically. About half an hour before the movie was over, it occurred to me that there was no possible ending available that I would like, because I felt invested enough in every character to care about what happened to them. Also, the message I took out of the movie was one about the inherent lunacy of war, and that the officers who run it are rather nuts and not heroes at all. This is one of only two possible messages that make for acceptable war movies, and I already watched "War is mind-breakingly terrible and utterly destroys everyone involved with it" in The Deer Hunter.

Finally, I'm not really old enough or enough of a classic movie buff to be familiar with the works of Alec Guinness outside of Obi Wan Kenobi. I made several hilarious jokes to myself early on involving Jedi Mind Tricks.

As for other complaints, the only female of note in the movie is Nurse Screws The Male Lead, so I could critique the utter lack of women in this one, but I'll give it a pass since it was made in 1957, when it was illegal for women to leave the house without the permission of their husbands. That's completely true. You can trust me; I was a history major.

So yes. Excellent movie. Well worth the buck I spent renting it. Time to update the Board.

The Best Idea I've Had In Months

2007-12-03T23:27:00.000-05:00

Oh man. Oh man.

It's rare that I have an idea that I like this much. And let me tell you, I like most of my ideas quite a bit.

I was reflecting on Casey's advice in the last non-YouTube post, about how maybe I should meet women outside of work. The trouble is that I don't actually belong to any organizations of any kind, and not being available from 2:30-10:45 every night sort of kills any interest one could have in joining one, so going places to meet women who I don't work with is tricky, since I'm not much of a clubber.

But then it occurred to me. The idea. The best idea I've had in months. I do, in fact, know a highly entertaining woman that I do not work with. I haven't spoken to her in about 20 months or so, but suffice to say that I'm planning on contacting her to see if she is available to hang out some time. My blog will become approximately one million times more awesome if this plan works, too. More than this I cannot say in case the plan falls through. If the plan works out, I'll make sure to write a post bringing everyone up to speed.

Stay tuned.

Monday Evening YouTube

2007-12-03T23:22:00.000-05:00

Some Very Random Observations

2007-12-02T02:53:00.000-05:00

1. I had a dream last night. I dreamed the sanitation department came into my apartment and took all my garbage out. It was about the best dream ever. You can imagine my sadness when I awoke to find that there was still garbage in my apartment.

2. Prior to typing this post, I was idling away time by reading other blogs and clicking a click pen. Then I read the click pen, and it says "Minnesota State High School League" on it. I don't have the damndest idea where it came from or why I have it.

3. I watched The Departed tonight. Since I haven't seen any of the other nominees for 2006, I can't tell you if it should have won or not. The only post-Oscar hype I remember was, "Hey, Martin Scorsese finally won," so I guess there was no big controversy. I can tell you that DiCaprio was pretty good in it, Matt Damon was Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson was Jack Nicholson, and the plot and dialogue were good enough to suck me in for the whole two and a half hours. I can also tell you that acting-wise, the supporting triumvirate of Alec Baldwin, Martin Sheen, and Mark Wahlberg were superb.

As far as how good it was, it regrettably had the misfortune of following The Deer Hunter, a movie which left me with a severe case of second-hand post-traumatic stress disorder. The Departed was not quite that powerful, you could say.

Finally, if there was ever a movie that did not pass Bechdel's Rule, this is it. I think the only female character had all of 20 lines, all of which were said to either DiCaprio or Damon, and got credited below Mark Wahlberg. At any rate, time to strike it off the Big Board, and plan my next move.

4. Just as an indication to how not awesome my week was, up until today I considered the highlight working with Paula Who Stood Me Up A Few Months Back on Tuesday and keeping enough dignity to not ask her out despite her heavy flirting with me. Then today, I got asked out by a different coworker, and said yes, because I desperately need people to hang out with.

5. I think my life would only improve if I could somehow take it upon myself to stop going on dates with coworkers.

Other people have said it better than me.

2007-11-29T06:22:00.000-05:00

"If I had my way, I'd shuffle off to Buffalo, sit by the lake, and watch the world go by."

"For reasons I cannot explain there's some part of me that wants to see Graceland."

"It's not hard, not far to reach. We can hitch a ride to Rockaway Beach."

"And all of it is yours and mine, so let's ride and ride and ride and ride and ride."

"Hitching on a twilight train. Ain't nothing here that I care to take along."

"Working on a mystery, going wherever it leads, running down a dream."

"I'd love to stick around but I'm running behind. You know, I don't even know what I'm hoping to find."

"Everybody needs a place to stay to work on all their schemes and scams. If I could get my record clean, I'd be a genius."

In a world where movies win awards, One Man must see them all...

2007-11-28T00:11:00.000-05:00

Confession: I have a hidden resistance to watching good movies. They are frequently depressing. Or boring. Or shocking. Or something else. Good movies tend to make you feel things. Or think about things. I usually find it much more enjoyable, and comforting, to watch a rather silly flick and make sarcastic comments about it. Or, even better, make all kinds of pompous and pretentious claims about the 'symbolism' found within it as if it were some weirdo arthouse show. There's no real downside to well made cheesy movies. For example, I can watch Steven Seagal save the environment by beating the crap out of ugly mulleted dudes and enjoy it on face value for an hour, and then the rest of my days I can laugh at the inherent goofiness of the movie and enjoy watching it again in search of more goofy stuff to pick out.

Also, it turns out that I probably have terrible taste in movies. If I get bored in the near future, which is a distinct possibility since I talked myself out of asking out Paula at work today, I might blog just exactly how bad my taste is. For now, just know that I just clicked through the 100 worst reviewed movies on Rotten Tomatoes, and frequently found myself saying, "Come on, that one wasn't bad. It had plenty of entertainment value."

Lately, though, I've been passing up the Frankenfishes and Stay Alives of the world and been grabbing your critically acclaimed types instead. I think Rain Man caused the change, mainly because this is probably about the fifth time I've mentioned it in the past three months. Maybe, I thought, I should give these Oscar nominee type movies a shot. Perhaps I enjoy good movies more than I think I do.

And so began one man's quest to watch all of the Best Picture winners. Let's pull up the Big List (ones I've seen are in bold):

2006 The Departed*
2005 Crash*
2004 Million Dollar Baby*
2003 The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
2002 Chicago
2001 A Beautiful Mind*
2000 Gladiator
1999 American Beauty
1998 Shakespeare in Love
1997 Titanic
1996 The English Patient
1995 Braveheart
1994 Forrest Gump
1993 Schindler's List
1992 Unforgiven*
1991 Silence of the Lambs
1990 Dances with Wolves
1989 Driving Miss Daisy
1988 Rain Man*
1987 The Last Emperor
1986 Platoon*
1985 Out of Africa
1984 Amadeus
1983 Terms of Endearment
1982 Gandhi
1981 Chariots of Fire
1980 Ordinary People
1979 Kramer Vs. Kramer
1978 The Deer Hunter*
1977 Annie Hall
1976 Rocky
1975 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest*
1974 The Godfather Part II*
1973 The Sting*
1972 The Godfather*
1971 The French Connection
1970 Patton
1969 Midnight Cowboy
1968 Oliver!
1967 In the Heat of the Night*
1966 A Man for All Seasons
1965 The Sound of Music
1964 My Fair Lady
1963 Tom Jones
1962 Lawrence of Arabia*
1961 West Side Story
1960 The Apartment
1959 Ben-Hur
1958 Gigi
1957 The Bridge on the River Kwai*
1956 Around the World in 80 Days
1955 Marty
1954 On the Waterfront
1953 From Here to Eternity
1952 The Greatest Show on Earth
1951 An American in Paris
1950 All About Eve
1949 All the King's Men
1948 Hamlet
1947 Gentleman's Agreement
1946 The Best Years of Our Lives
1945 The Lost Weekend
1944 Going My Way
1943 Casablanca
1942 Mrs. Miniver
1941 How Green Was My Valley
1940 Rebecca
1939 Gone With the Wind
1938 You Can't Take It With You
1937 The Life of Emile Zola
1936 The Great Ziegfeld
1935 Mutiny on the Bounty
1934 It Happened One Night
1933 Cavalcade
1932 Grand Hotel
1931 Cimarron
1930 All Quiet on the Western Front
1929 The Broadway Melody
1928 Sunrise
1927 Wings

Total: 32/80
*watched since Sept. 07
(Also note that this is a good opportunity to make "Oh my God you've never seen Gone With the Wind?" type comments.)

When the Academy Got It Wrong (also to be updated as I see more also-rans):

1999, American Beauty over The Iron Giant. The Iron Giant is as good as any movie on this list. It's considerably better than Shakespeare in Love, and Gladiator doesn't even come within shooting distance of it. I just say this to point out that if it had been released a little earlier or a little later, I wouldn't have to feel bad about ousting my favorite Kevin Spacey movie, and one of the few movies on this list that could give The Iron Giant a run for its money, from the list. Luckily for American Beauty, The Iron Giant is animated, and is therefore only for kids and can never, ever be taken seriously by anyone else.

1990, Dances With Wolves over Awakenings. Nothing against DWW, but Awakenings was just better. Also, for those keeping score at home, this makes two movies involving Vin Diesel that got jobbed out of an Oscar, and unlike most people I don't even count Saving Private Ryan.

1981, Chariots of Fire over Raiders of the Lost Ark. I base this on the fact that all of the Indiana Jones movies are fun to quote, and the only thing I've ever quoted from Chariots of Fire is the theme. Plus, Chariots of Fire is a movie about Olympic runners that somehow manages to be slow.

1976, Rocky over Network. I risk losing my share of the inheritance over this, but Rocky is one overrated movie. Underdog nobody boxer stands up to arrogant image-conscious champ. Well-made, inspiring, cool soundtrack, great movie all around, but pretty standard plot. Network, meanwhile, is witty, cool, and prescient in all its superbly acted lunacy.

1964, My Fair Lady over Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. As a rule, I don't make these decisions unless I've seen both movies, but God I hate My Fair Lady. I've never seen Dr. Strangelove, but the title alone is more interesting and better written than anything in My Fair Lady. The Musical Era is going to be tough to endure, I think.

As I see more, I'll update my list, and then maybe write a review of it or something.

Last movie: Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
Next movie: The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

Thoughts on Songs I Heard On the Radio, Christmas Edition

2007-11-26T17:05:00.001-05:00

"Santa Claus is Coming To Town," Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band: I like Bruce Springsteen well enough, but, I don't think there's hope for this song, no matter who sings it. It's designed for four year olds to sing, and I think it should be left to its target audience.

"All I Want For Christmas Is You," Mariah Carey: This has to be the most played Christmas song. I heard it twice yesterday. And as much as I would like to make fun of Mariah Carey, I can't really find much about this song I don't like. I like the full-sounding instrumentation with the ambient bells, I like the use of the back-up singers, I like Mariah eschewing the crazy diva soprano lines in favor of a simple, catchy melody line, and I like the simple, straight-forward lyrics. It's not my favorite Christmas song, but it's upbeat and innocuous, so it can stay in the Christmas canon, as far as I'm concerned.

The Trans-Siberian Orchestra: I'm not sure if the TSO names their songs. The radio never tells me. I have yet to hear a song that does not make me think, "And here's another track from that beloved holiday favorite, Jim Steinman Saves Christmas." Actually, that sounds like a good idea for a Christmas special. Jeff Lynne can play his eccentric, goofy sidekick. Together, they can use the power of bombastic, over-synthesized rock to raise enough money to stop the orphanage from closing. Or rouse Santa from his post-Thanksgiving food-induced slumber in time to deliver the presents to the children of the world. Or melt the heart of closed-minded cynic who has forgotten what Christmas is all about. Really, the script writes itself from this point. Pity the WGA is on strike, otherwise I'm sure they'd jump on this idea.

"Do They Know It's Christmas?" Band Aid: Meanwhile, a group of baritone pop stars banding together to end world hunger with music is a siren song I can't resist. I heard that on my way to Meijer on my break, and had to buy one of their $10 sacks of food to be donated to the food pantry that they have every Christmas, even though I don't have the money to feed myself right now, let alone the world. Then I came back to work and was still singing it, and got in a fight with my coworker Kelli. It went something like this:

Andy: Feed...the...WORLD...
Kelli: God no. No.
Andy: What?
Kelli: I hate that song. Worst Christmas song ever.
Andy: what?? What???
Kelli: That song---
Andy: "Christmas Shoes" is the worst Christmas song ever.
Client: Let them know it's Christmastime!
Andy: Yes. See? That song is awesome.
Kelli: No. It's lame and cheesy.
Andy: No, it's about saving lives.
Kelli: It's still stupid.
Andy: But there won't be snow this Christmastime in Africa.
Kelli: I don't care.
Andy: Well, tonight thank God it's them instead of you.
Client: Feed... the... WORLD!
Kelli: Dear God. Are you happy now Andy?
Andy: Let them know it's Christmastime!

Which brings us to today's YouTube.

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

2007-11-23T23:22:00.000-05:00

So I haven't gotten around to working any overtime yet. Last night my brother was in town and wanted to hang out, and I am not in the habit of passing up opportunities to chill with Aaron. So I came home and played video games. A good time was had by all.

Tonight there was no OT available, so I'm home again.

At work today, a coworker brought in some Christmas specials, and our clients had a good time sitting around watching them. I requested "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" because I love stop-motion animation and it's an old favorite. Now that I've watched it through the eyes of an adult, I find it a lot more disturbing. First, there's Fireball the Reindeer. He wants to be Rudolph's friend until he sees he has a bright red nose, and then decides to lead the other reindeers in teasing and taunting him. I had forgotten about him, but as soon as I saw him, I knew he had to be an evil jerk, because he has gratuitous blond hair on top of his fur. Remember Andy's Rule of Hair: Assume any blond-haired male in a movie is a villain until proven otherwise.

Then there's Santa. I'm not sure there's a bigger jerk in the history of film. When I'm being exceptionally assholish in an over-the-top kind of way for the amusement of all around me, I'm still not as mean as Santa is in this movie. This is hardly the only instance, but it is probably the most heartless: After Clarice tells Rudolph she thinks he's cute at the reindeer games, he gets all excited and has a perfect take off and flies around a bit. He lands beside Fireball, and they celebrate by horseplaying, and his false nose falls off and everyone is shocked by how bright red his nose is. Santa comes up to Donner (Rudolph's dad), and says, "Donner, you should be ashamed. And he had such a good takeoff, too." This is exactly one scene after he tells the elves that he hates their singing. When the lion who rules the Island of Misfit Toys tells Rudolph he wants Santa to find homes for the misfit toys, I half expected Santa to jump out and say, "Fools! I personally instructed the elves to screw these toys up so they'd live out their days in misery exiled in an Arctic wasteland. Muahahahaha!" When he picks them up in the end, if you listen closely, you can hear Santa say, "We can give this garbage to those worthless crybabies at the orphange." Seriously, Santa is a dick.

That reminds me...

2007-11-22T04:24:00.000-05:00

If anyone wants to buy me the perfect Christmas gift, I would really like a fountain drink machine installed in my kitchen. And if I could take it with me in the outside chance that I ever decide to leave this apartment, that'd be nice too. A portable fountain drink machine. Yes. That will do.

Just When Mark Trail Was Getting Even Awesomer

2007-11-22T04:14:00.000-05:00

My millions of readers.

I apologize for sucking in the near future. You see, my bank account yesterday was sitting pretty at negative $43. Today I got paid, but this paycheck was for the rent, and I basically have almost enough money left to buy gas to get to and from work.

Normally, at times such as these, I'd turn to blogging because it's cheap entertainment for me. However, this time, I'm a little bit too broke, and I'm going to need to turn some overtime, quickly. I could be working for the next 10 days straight, pulling double-shifts 2 out of three times. I'm afraid it might be necessary after the $1000+ of unforeseen expenses killed all of my savings and the last couple paychecks. And my soul via proxy. I find few things as soul-killing as working overtime, and I try to avoid it at all costs.

Seriously, I'm so broke at this point that I'm beginning to twitch as I realize I'm not going to be able to buy pop for the next two weeks. And I buy the $2 Meijer variety. My backup plan is to flirt my way to free fountain pop from the cute chicks at Hardee's who flirt with me. I'm thinking they might just take good looks there.

The Curious Link Between My Blog and Mark Trail

2007-11-20T23:14:00.000-05:00

One of the recurring topics of this blog is Jack Elrod's awesome serial newspaper comic, Mark Trail. For those unfamiliar, the comic revolves around a freelance reporter who works for various outdoorsman magazines. Your typical plotline will involve Mark investigating his new story, uncovering some unspeakable crime against nature, discover the perpetrator of the heinous crime, usually a man with an evil looking mustache and/or mullet, and punch him in the face. If you've ever seen Fire Down Below, you'll know the basic story.

8/16: Mark Trail wraps up the extremely awesome and gripping political drama that was the bird strike storyline. An intriguing new plotline is introduced, involving a shopping center being built at the edge of Lost Forest. I get tantalizing visions of Mark Trail punching the crap out of a construction crew to protect the Lost Forest wildlife preserve.

8/28: In two short weeks, it's obvious that the Shopping Center story is going to be about a depressed construction foreman named Homer who decides to dedicate his life to protecting a duck and her eggs that would be destroyed in the construction. He names the duck after his ex-wife, Shirley. It gets really, really boring really fast. Also, I lose interest in blogging.

9/22: For reasons no one realizes, the duck story refuses to end, despite the fact it has already appeared like it is about to wrap up a couple times. The internet has neither seen nor heard of me in nearly a month.

10/28: The extremely boring and horrible epic of Shirley the Duck finally, finally comes to an end.

10/29: The new storyline appears to involve a French-looking hillbilly named Johnny Malotte and his gigantic family. And by "Gigantic family," I mean "wife and 6 kids," which is the same size as my family. They apparently have to entertain two businessmen.

10/30: I laugh heartily to myself when Malotte tells his oldest son, Paul, "If they like our camp, maybe we can get a lot of business, and you can go to college." "Great!" comes the reply.

10/31: Paul Malotte is in danger of being run over by a boat. Also, I start blogging again.

11/10: After hearing that a competitor swamped his son's boat and stole his customers, Johnny Malotte begins speaking in BOLD PRINT CAPITAL LETTERS, grabs a gun, and jumps in his boat to confront his rival. My posting increases in frequency.

11/17: After a week of fisticuffs, bold print, and goofy dialogue, a strangely-attired Mountie/Park Ranger/Highway Patrolman breaks up the fight by saying, "I don't object to a little brawling, but you two hotheads are getting out of control." Needless to say, I'm back to blogging full time.

UPDATE: And today, there's a sniper waiting for Johnny in the shadows! I tell you, this is looking to be the most awesome Mark Trail storyline ever, and Mark hasn't even entered the plot yet.

Wasn't yesterday Monday?

2007-11-20T00:57:00.000-05:00

And once upon a time in these parts, that meant a YouTube video was posted. I'd like to thank the fine administration of Richmond State Hospital for giving me the opportunity to watch this one. I have adopted it as my pet cause, and spread the truth to everyone.

In fact, I'll start a review of all my favorite parts in comments. I'm sure you'll all have several as well.

Why Mental Healthcare Workers Lead the Nation in Depression

2007-11-17T23:38:00.000-05:00

Somedays, it's hard to work in a mental health institution. It ends with a broken heart as often as not.

I invest a lot of time and effort into one resident in particular, mainly because I believe he is fully capable of living on his own, and maybe one other person on the planet agrees with me. The problem is that when he messes up, he messes up in the most grandiose ways possible. At this point, any increase in freedom has to come directly from the hospital superintendent, who is in general a very busy person.

I spend an inordinate amount of time coaching this client, trying to teach him appropriate ways to handle his anger. I also spend an inordinate amount of time advocating for him to a non-receptive treatment team.

Lately my client has been visibly troubled. He's been teasing his peers and playing jokes on them more than usual. It culminated today with him repeatedly poking a peer, then pushing him, and then pushing a staff that intervened. I was on break at the time, and came back to find him on a 1 to 1 precaution (a staff member has to be within arm's reach of him at all times). I volunteered to sit with him the rest of the night, as I have had more success reaching him than most. And after about half an hour of us going over the details of what he did wrong and how he could have handled things differently, I asked him what had been upsetting so much lately and why he was causing so much trouble. He responded,

"Because I'm not going to get to go home over the holidays and I haven't seen my mom all year." And he cried. A lot.

And he's right. He messed up today, and it'll be months before I can convince anyone to give him a chance. The sad part is that the vast majority of his behavioral problems are born out of the fact that he cannot get away from the people who irritate him on a daily basis and do things he likes.

I was going to write about my success at attracting the cute girl who works at Hardee's today, but I think I'll take a pass. I've had enough heartache for awhile.

Thoughts on Songs I Heard On The Radio Today

2007-11-16T23:51:00.000-05:00

"Don't Stop Believing," Journey: I swear this song haunts me. Anytime I'm in a bad mood, suddenly Journey appears on my radio, as if to add insult to injury. I know this song was meant to be uplifting or something, but Lord does it suck. Plus, I end up singing random snippets of it for a couple hours. I am 98% sure this song will somehow be the last thing I hear in my life.

"Come and Get It," Badfinger: I have no idea why this is considered an acceptable rock song. Yes, it's catchy. Yes, it's easy to sing along to. But it lacks elements like verses, or a bridge, or cool solos, or interesting guitar riffs, or cool instrumentation, or really anything outside of "If you want it, here it is, come and get it." Did Paul McCartney just write this on a napkin, throw it in his suit pocket, forget about it for a couple years, then just give it to Badfinger so they'd have something to sing? I cannot think of a single other song that has no verses whatsoever.

"Angie," The Rolling Stones: Have I mentioned this song in this occasional feature before? Seems like I have. I love the poignant interplay between the violin and the piano in this one enough to make me consider starting a rock band with just a piano and a violin. But the thing I really love is Mick Jagger's singing in it, because it's so loose and not concerned with being exactly on pitch that I can sing along with it even though it's probably way out of my normal range and still sound good.

"The House of the Rising Sun," The Animals: The Animals, on the other hand, believe in singing at the very edge of my normal range perfectly on pitch, which usually means I sound terrible for a couple beats when I sing along with it. This makes me sad, because I really like this song and I want to sing along with it but hate sounding terrible. The discomfort this situation causes always makes me want to change the station, but I stay for the cool organ solo. I'm a sucker for cool organ solos.

"Sultans of Swing," Dire Straits: Dire Straits, meanwhile, somehow made a music career out of nonchalantly breathing four notes for three and a half minutes backed by catchy guitar riffs. I'm pretty sure tone deaf toddlers could handle Dire Straits' vocals with minimal difficulty. I like the groovin' guitar solo in the middle of this one. I suppose the lesson here is that decent lyrics, catchy guitar riffs, and groovin' solos can mask ridiculously simple vocals, because I never noticed them until I sang along with it after struggling mightily with The Animals.

Somebody needs a vacation

2007-11-14T01:34:00.001-05:00

First, sinuses... sini... whatever you call yourselves, I'm sick of you. Because you always make me sick. I'm not sure what you're supposed to do, what vital part you play in the mystery of human anatomy. I like to think that you're probably part of the immune system, and it's your job to make sure I don't get sick. Well, news for you, sinuses, you suck at it. Damn you and all the gallons of day-glo green snot you produce.

Second, car, why do you continue to irritate me? It wasn't cool when the vacuum that prevents the engine from sucking all the gasoline straight into the engine when I press on the pedal broke. It wasn't cool when heating knob broke, preventing me from doing anything but defrosting my windshield. It wasn't cool when the tire spontaneously developed a hole. Previously, it was not cool the front headlight literally flew off the car, and it wasn't cool when the tie rod decided to snap. It was sort of cool when you ran over that ladder, but that's not cool enough to redeem you. Gyah.

Third, health insurance, why do you not cover any of the prescriptions I want to buy? Wait, that's because I selected "Healthy young single male insurance." I'll give you a pass.

Fourth, JJ, why do you continue to puke on my floor right in the doorway where I absolutely have to walk, usually without shoes on? And why did you knock my cough syrup under that damnable bike in my apartment, where I wouldn't find it this morning? Why do you spend all night meowing at a wall? And what in the name of all things holy did you do with my glasses?

Fifth, Cute Chick That Works At Meijer on Night Shift, why do you look the other way anytime I'm walking toward you? You are supposed to smile and flirt shamelessly with me, which will no doubt make me uncomfortable and all stammery. Please correct this in the future.

All right. I'm not all gripes; no, I'm all for solutions. Here are my solutions.

1. Sinusectomy.
Pros: Sinuses will never be infected again.
Cons: Probably not covered by worthless insurance (see solution 3).

2. Give the car to charity, buy a scooter.
Pros: Better gas mileage, at least as much climate control.
Cons: Difficult to pick up groceries. Or chicks.

3. Move to Sweden.
Pros: Fish! Meatballs! Chefs! Bikini Teams! The lovely lakes. The wonderful telephone system. Many interesting furry animals. And the Majestic Moose!
Cons: A moose once bit my sister. No really, she was carving her initials on the moose with the sharpened end of an interspace toothbrush given to her by Svenge, her brother-in-law, an Oslo dentist and star of many Norwegian movies: "The Hot Hands of an Oslo Dentist," "Fillings of Passion," and "The Huge Molars of Horst Nordfink." Mind you, moose bites can be pretty nasty.

4. Squirt guns. Lots of friggin' squirt guns.
Pros: Cheap.
Cons: Since I'm not around when he does it, it'll seem like random meanness instead of legitimate punishment.

5. Actually go up and talk to her.
Pros: I would get noticed.
Cons: I would get noticed.

OR

5. Flirt with the cute girls who work at Hardees instead.
Pros: They usually flirt with me first. There is two of them.
Cons: It's probably because I'm the only customer who isn't a smelly 55 year old obese trucker. Also, I can't afford to eat at Hardee's regularly.

The Most Annoying Feeling Ever and Other News

2007-11-11T17:20:00.000-05:00

There are a great many things in this world that make me feel stupid and frustrated, but I think the most annoying of them would have to be losing my glasses.

First, my glasses are probably number three on my important things to never lose list, behind my wallet and my keys. I should always, always know exactly where my glasses are.

Second, I don't really have a lot of places where I could leave my glasses. I either take them off on my computer desk before heading to brush my teeth, in my bathroom after brushing my teeth before heading to bed, or on my bedside stand before falling asleep. When they do not seem to be in any of these places, my mind just shuts off and I end up looking everywhere imaginable, throwing all logic and reason out the window. Was I watching a movie or playing XBox before I went to bed? Maybe the TV is the right place. Did I get a snack before going to bed? Check the pantry. What about the piano? Maybe I was practicing. Check there. Did I take them to work and leave them in the car? It's possible. Check the car.

Third, and this is the most frustrating thing, I know exactly where the last place I had them was. They were on the roll of toilet paper on my bathroom sink. They're not there now.

Fourth, I'm sick, and any time my head is positioned somewhere other than directly above my neck and shoulders, I get a horrible pounding headache. This makes getting on the floor and looking for my glasses a literal headache that I just don't want to experience right now.

Bah. If anyone finds my glasses, could you let me know? They could be anywhere at this point.

Other news: I went to the doctor and got charged a good million dollars for my prescriptions. My deductible is higher than I could ever fill in a year. Oh, I went to the doctor because I have a sinus infection from hell combined with a touch of bronchitis. This has resulted in my sneezing and coughing continuously. On the plus side, I put on a clinic on how to properly sneeze and cough for my coworkers on Thursday. On the downside, I had to use my last sick day until December 2, so I could be in a spot. Also on the plus side, depsite the fact that my prescriptions cost a buttload of money, they seem to be working, so the next time I have a sinus infection, I'll have the Nasonex at the ready.

Also on the downside, I'm going to be broke until my next paycheck, which is pretty much already spent on bills. Having no money for a month is probably not a feasible option, so I now I'm going to have to, horrors, work overtime.

Poor Poor Pitiful Me

2007-11-08T00:25:00.001-05:00

You know what sucks? Having problems, that's what. It's such a total drag that my personality and behaviors have been aligned so as to avoid ever having any problems at all. Because they suck.

You know what else sucks? Having problems that are totally not as important as everyone else's. My problems are so not serious that I feel guilty even complaining about them. It'd be like me going up to a leukemia victim and saying, "Yeah, that cancer business is probably rough, but I've got some serious respiratory issues too. I've got this zit right under my right nostril that is constantly agitating my nose and making me sneeze frequently. It's pretty rough."

But anyways. Here's my list of stuff that's bumming me out:

I'm not sorta kinda dating Rachel anymore, and that makes me sad in a very, very selfish and personal sort of way.

- Also I am exceptionally awful at meeting women, so it doesn't appear that I'll be dating anyone anytime soon.

-- Well, ok, my mom has been trying to introduce me to a new teacher at the elementary she thinks I'd like. According to Mom, "She's blonde... and she's tall. Those are good things."

--- However, if she teaches during the day, and I attend psychiatrically during the evenings, that leaves approximately half an hour a day that I might be able to talk to her. I am not optimistic.

---- I cancelled my subscription to Yahoo! Personals after it insisted for months that no one within 50 miles was interested in dating me.

----- Moving on.

My car is falling apart, one light and knob at a time. My passenger tire randomly went flat.

- I have no spare.

-- My car's vacuum is also not working properly, I'm told.

--- I've been dead broke up until today, and next paycheck is already earmarked for bills, so my hopes of having money in the bank for a couple of weeks have been absolutely shot.

All of my friends, Rachel included, are going through way worse stuff than this right now. Worse, only two of them seem vaguely concerned or aware that I'm having problems.

Remember my blog?

2007-10-31T03:17:00.001-05:00

It was pretty cool. I want to come back to it. I think I'll work my way slowly.

Where to start? BerryBird tagged me with a meme. It involves posting my desktop. My desktop is not the slightest bit cool. I need to cool it up a little before I participate.

A research study was done that showed that of all segments of the workforce, direct care staff at mental institutions and nursing homes are the most likely to suffer from depression. You know what's hard? Seeing your coworkers being depressed and feeling useless. You know what's harder? Actually taking care of people while you're depressed.

What else we got here? I'm sort of kind of dating someone now. It's my coworker Rachel. She was dating someone else when she started working at the hospital, who is also employed at the hospital, which has made for several uncomfortable moments. Also, the other interested party was perusing my blog for awhile, looking for dirt to dig up on me. Most people, it turns out, publish all their dirty laundry on the internets for the whole world to read. When I told Jeff this, he said, "What was he going to find out? Your new awesome method for ranking your favorite bands?" I told Jeff to shut up. This was another reason I didn't care to recount my life adventures for awhile. I felt it would keep some wounds open a little too long, and I don't particularly enjoy hurting people. In fact, I don't enjoy hurting people at all. Ever, really.

But, Rachel has a daughter, which means when I'm sort of kind of casually seeing her, we have to be at her house, which means we mostly watch movies, and since Rachel has a soft spot for low-budget B movies that went direct to DVD, I get to see quite the eclectic mix. I've watched a few zillion movies over the past couple of months. I could easily turn this into "Andy Comments on Movies, Both Silly and Serious." Here are a few vignettes:

A Beautiful Mind: Dad recommended this. I really enjoyed it, which surprised me, as it stars Russell Crowe. However, it's about a subject near and dear to me, so I got into it.

Cheerleader Ninjas: You know, I don't ask for a lot in movies. They don't need to be smart, or particularly funny, or even good. They just need to entertain me for at least an hour if its your typical 90 minute movie. You'd think a movie called Cheerleader Ninjas could accomplish this meager task. After all, how hard could it be to make Cheerleader Ninjas. You take cheerleaders, give them katanas, send them on a mission, and zany sexy hijinx ensue. None of that happens in this movie. For that matter, nothing happens in this movie. At least, nothing that makes a damn bit of sense. The cheerleaders aren't even frickin' ninjas, for pete's sake. The movie ends up being one long in 'joke' about how bad and stupid the movie is. Gyah. I can't even write how bad this was. All I wanted was some cheerleader ninjas.

Frankenfish: On the other side of the low-budget coin we have this gem. Do we have giant, man-eating mutated fish? Why yes, we do. Do we have a creepy locale for these fish to hunt near helpless humans? But of course. Do we have easily recognizable character archetypes, allowing astute observers to try to predict order of death? We certainly do. Were the deaths gruesome, yet memorable and creative? You know it. Was there at least one decent actor in the cast? Actually, yes there was. Was there at least one absolutely terrible actor? Yes, but she was hot, so we forgave her. See, Cheerleader Ninjas people? This movie making stuff isn't so complex after all. Frankenfish even managed to work gratuitous nudity into the plot more smoothly than Cheerleader Ninjas, and there was nary a cheerleader in sight for the entire course of the plot. All of these pluses let me forgive the fact that the ending was a bit rushed and anti-climactic. Oh well.

Rain Man: When I tell people I saw Rain Man for the first time a couple weeks ago, they look at me like I'm crazy. I think it might be in contention for my favorite ever, up there with O Brother, Where Art Thou? and Benny and Joon, which is surprising since it co-stars Tom Cruise. You know what my favorite line is? "Definitely trapped... in some sort of box... with no tv... and 10 minutes 'til Wapner." It's followed up by "They're making legal history in there, Ray, and you're missing it. LEGAL HISTORY!"

In other Dustin Hoffman-related news, I saw The Graduate for the first time ever, and the ending of Wayne's World 2 is suddenly much more entertaining.

Ok, that'll do for now. I'll try to keep up a little better now.

How Did I Not Know About This?

2007-10-09T12:24:00.000-05:00

So considering video games and rock n roll music are two of my all-time favorite things, with ironic mocking sarcarsm coming in at a close third, how did I not know that Journey had its own terrible arcade game in the early '80s? Apparently, it was conceived to be released at the same time that their American tour was happening in 1983. You control the five members of the band as they fly through the galaxy in a spaceship, traveling to different planets to recover their lost instruments. Then you play a concert while an actual tape deck in the machine plays "Separate Ways". Working machines are very hard to find.

Here's an action-packed clip, because I don't think I would've believed this without proof.

You'll notice that once Steve Perry recovers his microphone, it turns into a high powered auto-cannon.