Wednesday, January 31, 2007

A Bunch of Literary Shite

So I just got back from my two tests, and before I write about what I want to write about let me discuss how it went. First was the math test. Easy, piece of cake, it was like shooting big fat trout in a tea cup. I missed ONE question--and I might even get 1/2 credit for that one. I set up the problem correctly, and what I put as the final answer was technically correct, but I also could have (should have) supplied a more precise answer. Also, as I write this I am again reminded that I cannot for the life of me spell answer (which is correct here only because I have access to spell check). Does anyone have some kind of device to remember how to spell it? I used to have trouble spelling Wednesday until I saw that it looks like "Wed" (as in get married to) "nes" (Nintendo Entertainment System) "day" (thus the middle of the week is the day when one marries their Nintendo game system). Anyway, I'll take a minus one because frankly, I thought I'd be struggling in this class. I can't believe how easy this class is. I didn't test into it (I tested higher) but I thought there would some challenge. Oh well, I'll take the easy "A" any day.

Spanish was just okay. I think I got a "B" on it. The hardest part was (once again) the listening part (she talks too damn fast) and the vocabulary section. Unlike previous classes, the vocab part was basically "here are six Spanish words, pick four and define them" in Spanish!!! Yeah, I sucked that part up. Oh well, all I need there is a "D-"

Now that's out of the way...the literary stuff swirling around inside my head. Today we talked about THE GREAT GATSBY in my Modern American Fiction class. My friends Paul and Mike both think I'm off my nut for loving this book so much. Before class started we were discussing what might be on the quiz (we quiz over our readings at the beginning of every class). Paul was unsure of who was who in the book, he seemed a little peeved (amazed?) that I knew everybody (except Tom Buchanan's mistress whose first name escaped me at the time (it's Myrtle)). While they both agreed it's a good book they wanted to know why I LOVE it so much. They laughed at me a little when I said (honestly) I don't know. So I've been trying to come up with a reason why. First, I have to admit, I read this book on my own initially (having never been in a real literature class in High School which forced me to read it) because of its reputation. I also am going to admit that at first, the only reason I said it was my favorite book was because I wanted to look smart. Six years after reading it for the first time, I can actually say that it's my favorite book--there is no ego in my love of GATSBY (anymore). So, what's so great about it?

As far as books go, it's brief (180 pages in the trade paperback edition). I like short, compact little packets of writing. Don't get me wrong, I like 'em long (CRIME AND PUNISHMENT) but nothing comes closer to what I want to someday do as a writer like GATSBY. Short and to the point. What else is so great about? All the characters (and I mean all of them) are tragic figures, none more than Gatsby himself. Why do I like that? Because they each have a halo of sadness that pervades over them--oh sure, the novel is basically a series of parties and beer blasts (to quote S.E. Hinton) but all that jovial behavior is a mask. All the people in GATSBY are fakes, phonies, and liars...but just under the surface are real, lonely, heartbroken people. Just like real life. And then there is Gatsby, whom I most identify with (which is ironic because he's the book's "mystery character"). Gatsby is a mystery by his own design. What I can tell you about him is this: he was born poor, went to war and came back a man on a mission. He became wealthy (the only way you can in America, by cheating someone or something) and set about trying to win back the love of a woman he lost in his youth. He buys a mansion (that looks like a French city hall) directly across the bay from where his beloved Daisy lives (with her husband). At night, he walks to the water and stares at the dim light of her property. He loves her, is obsessed with her. Gatsby spins these tales about himself, in a sense he's a "self-made man" because everything about him (including his name) is a fabrication. He literally created himself, or at least him public image. Why do I identify with this? Well for starters, like most people, I have a sense of who I am (who I really am) as well as who I want to be. I take both of these people and try to live in the middle ground between the two (not always easy to do). Is that lying? I suppose and then again we all do it (to some extent, and some people do this more than others). That Gatsby is fated to die not only for BUT BECAUSE of his love makes him all the more romantic of a figure. Hell, Gatsby (and Eric Clapton) should be the patron saint of unrequited love. As a hopeless romantic myself, I feel a certain kinship with Gatsby.

I also take a perverse amount of pleasure in books that make me feel gloomy/sad/depressed (such as the hopelessness of the characters in my second favorite book THE OUTSIDERS). Again, this is pretty normal/common among people (why else are tragic (sad) movies, plays, TV shows, and songs still so popular?). Real life is like that (tragic and sad) so venturing into a literary world where this occurrence is magnified into art is enjoyable.

I'm not obsessed with GATSBY (we'll get to obsession in a second) but I do examine it closer than any other book in existence. I have two copies (the result of moving to St. Louis last semester without my first copy). I simply couldn't live without the book in my immediate proximity (suffice to say, it's my "desert island" book). Anyway, this second copy I bought because I'm a nutcase is pretty heavily marked up. I have highlighted key passages, words I don't know (complete with their definitions scrawled in the margins), I even have a nice summary of the roman "novel" THE SATYRICON just before chapter seven (in which Fitzgerald references Trimalchio). I don't just read this book, I want to deconstruct it--look at all it's little pieces (even those that aren't really needed to "get" it). Over the break I bought a cheap Dover Thrift edition of some of Fitzgerald's short stories...I read two (one was decent/weird...the other was good) but I gave up on it (for now). I really don't have much desire to read any of his other books. I don't know why this is, I guess I'm afraid what they say about him will be true (that he was pretty much a drunk hack who has about three good books).

ANYWAY, that's why I love THE GREAT GATSBY. Anyone reading this who hasn't read it (or hasn't read it recently) should do themselves a favor and pick it up. I can't stress how valuable (I think) it is.

Now onto obsession. I am once again bitten by the Pynchon bug. Tonight after my tests I went to the fourth floor of the library and sat on a stool in front of his small two shelves. They didn't have a copy of his latest book AGAINST THE DAY (which I really want to read). I want to read THE CRYING OF LOT 49 but we're reading it in a few weeks...and I know I should wait. I had to go pick up a book at the school bookstore today...and I almost picked up the edition our teacher ordered (it's a larger trade paperback (which I love) and has a better cover). I refrained from this impulse (only because I am a poor college student). AGAINST THE DAY is $29.00 and I only have $27.00 on my Borders giftcard (which I need to use to buy Leah a Valentine's Day gift). Anyway, I flipped through a couple of books in his section in the library...most were critical essays on his work. A few were longer (believe it or not) than the actual novels they were about. Over the break I read the first 20 or so pages of GRAVITY'S RAINBOW. I was doing pretty good...and then...BAM!!! I didn't know what the hell was going on. I felt ashamed and put it back--but I still want/need to read it. I've heard that's how it is with Pynchon. You don't "get" everything. According to most of the critical essays I browsed, it seems that Mr. Pynchon doesn't really concern himself with conventions of literature (like plot and sequence). If the Pynchon books were a woman she'd be that really strange girl (with big tits) you're too intimidated to talk to. And forget about fucking her (sorry I'm so crude). I am obsessed with Pynchon. I read SLOW LEARNER over the break and now I'm hooked. I have VINELAND (which I may start this weekend (i.e. tomorrow)). I keep forgetting I have's a nice hardback, too. Ugh....I'm so sick.

On my way back home from the library I thought about the Wednesday Club writing contest. And how I don't really feel like I have nothing to submit. I have "The Dodo Egg" but it needs work. I have resolved to work on cleaning it up...and I sort of want to email it to Terri and find out what she thinks (and get her help). But I'm scared. I need to get some more people to read it too, but my friends Mike and Paul didn't really care much for it last semester. Anyway, the reason I'm relating all of this to you is because when I got back to my dorm room tonight I had an email rejection from McSweeny's website for that very story!! Baby's first rejection slip. I can't believe how excited I am to be turned down. I feel like Melville. Or Dickens. I feel like I have joined a very exclusive clube (the reality is...I HAVEN'T joined the exculsive club). Anyway, my pagan mind is taking this email as a sign. I must revise, re-work, and re-tool this story. I'm going to work on it this weekend (i.e. tomorrow). If you see me, please remind/encourage me to do this.

My favorite GATSBY quote: "Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope."


For whatever reason, whenever I try and exaggerate a number...I nearly always come up with eight. Example, yesterday as Leah pointed out, in my blog about beating Resident Evil 4 I claimed that she beat it "eight years ago." Now, this game came out in 2003/ clearly she didn't beat it eight years ago. Why do I do this? I've often claimed (when people like Leah point it out to me) that I think "eight is a pretty big number." But it's not, not by a long shot. I know lots of numbers bigger. I think it must have something to do with the multiplication tables. I'm pretty fuzzy on those, but I know that the eight's where a set I never really learned (my knowledge of the eights are comprised of my knowledge of the other sets...containing eight--does that make sense?).

Anyway, in honor of my fist college in math test (in like eight years) here is the factorial of eight:



Mabye the number 8 has some other significance for me...maybe that's the day I'm going to die or something (or maybe that's how many kids I'm going to have? How'd ya like that Leah?).

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

I get the job done (eventually)

Not that this is huge news...but this morning I finished Resident Evil 4 (a whole 8 years after Leah). I like the feeling I get from finishing a game (especailly one that's as scary as that one). I wish I finished more games...but usually I get pretty far, then either give up or lose interest. I think having Leah is a game buddy is good because this doesn't seem to happen to her...and then she nags me into finishing the game. I'm hard at work on the classic Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time (for the N64). I started the fire dungeon which was the last one I finished as a kid, here's hoping I beat that sucker!!!

Now I have to go read and study...I have two tests tomorrow (in my two favorite subjects: math and spanish).

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Rumble Fish

So this weekend I read RUMBLE FISH by S.E. Hinton. Hinton is the author of my second favorite book of all time THE OUTSIDERS. It was a short read (it's a book for teens) but was actually pretty good. This kid, Rusty-James is a typical Hinton thug--he lives a depressing, colorless life of poverty. He has no future, his past is a painful memory he only wants to forget. Again, typical Hinton. I love the crazy names she gives her characters (Rusty-James idolizes his older brother who is called simply "The Motorcycle Boy"). Her and Pynchon have THE best character names ("Meatball Mulligan"...a Pynchon character name is probably the single greatest name in all of literature...second only to "Soda Pop" and "Ponyboy" from THE OUTSIDERS).

Currently I'm reading her latest book, HAWKES HARBOR...I'm glad I didn't buy it because already I can tell it's not going to be very good. This is her first attempt at writing a real "adult" book. Gone are the teenage thugs and grimy back alleys of Oklahoma. Instead it's some sort of Vampire/thriller. The cover has an endorsement from R.L. Stine (creator of the GOOSEBUMPS series that were popular back when I was cutting my teeth on books). So yeah...if that doesn't tell you anything I don't know...maybe you need a big, pink neon sign that says "Crap."

It's too bad too, I was really looking forward to reading this thing. Hinton is an amazing writer. She wrote her first (and best) novel before she was out of High School. Over the years she's managed to churn out a series of interconnected novels for teens that depict a very satisfying (emotionally) world. There is something about the hopelessness her characters dwell in. I remember reading THE OUTSIDERS for the first time back in eighth grade...I couldn't imagine living like the Curtis boys. They live outside of mainstream society...outcasts...they're free in ways that I will never be, could never be. And yet, at the same time they are all trapped. The boys of Hinton's world have no future. There is no college for them. No high pressure, high paying job. No fancy cars or dream houses. The only thing they have to look forward to is an early grave. Until that time I couldn't imagine not going to college. It seemed to be the ultimate death sentence. At the time that was all I was hearing from my parents, my teachers, my friends..."college, college, college." Hinton's characters weren't only NOT going to college--most of them didn't even finish High School.

Despite living outside of society, her characters are not entirely "lawless." They live in a very strictly organized, pecking-order. The gangs and social classes that populate her world are just as complex as the world the members shun. Despite taking place in the late '60s and early '70s her books are pretty timeless. They have a magic quality about they have happened, will happen, and are happening right at this very moment.

I don't re-read books very often, but when I fall in love with a book (and that's what it's love) I will read the shit out a book. My all time most read books, ever:

THE GREAT GATSBY (have to re-read it for my fiction class next week)

I wish I knew what it was exactly that make these books so important to me. I think all of them have great characters. They feel real and I sympathize with them, I see myself (my life) in there stories. All of them are about losers and loners, too. I think that's interesting. I used to have Dicken's GREAT EXPECTATIONS in that list, but I tired to re-read it last year and couldn't get through it. What books do you read and read over again? Why do you do it? If you could only read one book, for the rest of you life...what book would it be?

Friday, January 26, 2007

Thursday, January 25, 2007

My Teacher is an Idiot

So I'm taking Linguistics this semester. It's a 4000 level (senior) class, big stuff...right? Me and my friend Paul are taking it together. So far we aren't too impressed with the class (it's becoming one of those where I regret buying the book because I'm not going to be reading it because, though she assigns readings...everything we need to know we're told in class). That kinda pisses me off, because at this stage of the game we should HAVE to read the textbook...but whatever.

No, this rant isn't about that. Nor is it about how boring the class is. Or about how my teacher uses the classroom smartboard to show us Wikipedia pages (on Linguistic topics). I think that's pretty unprofessional, especially for someone with a doctorate. Whatever. No, this rant is about how stupid my teacher is. Why is she stupid? Does she not know her subject? Possibly.

Let me first say that for the past year or so I've adopted a pretty smart policy: If I don't know something, I admit it. Rather than bullshit people, I just say "Hey, you know what? I don't know." I think that's a pretty intelligent thing to do/say. A really smart person is able to admit that they don't know EVERYTHING, because...hey! You don't!!! So I admire it when someone says that, really...I do.

My teacher, God bless her, admits this to us. A lot. I mean, a lot. In fact, she says "I don't know" or some variation of that so much that me and Paul decided to start keeping score. Today was our first day of keeping track. In an hour and fifteen minutes she said "I don't know" over 23 times. Now, some of those were understandable. We have a mixed class, some of us are undergrads and some are graduate students. There are three tweed jacket types. You know what I mean. The "Hey look at me, I so fucking're a dumb ass compared to me" types. These people are in all college classes, I've discovered. They usually have either two agendas:

A) They want to impress the teacher with their brilliance by agreeing with everything they say. Or they want to add a CRAP load of details to whatever the teacher has just said.


B) They want to embarrass the teacher by showing off, basically that they know more/better than the teacher. These people either have:

1. Mental Problems

2. Balls the size of the moon.

Now in our class we have a shit load of both types. As you can imagine our class discussions are a mixture of these people basically taking over and giving their own damn lecture (which infuriates me to no end) AND these people asking really vague or complicated questions (the kind of which that would require decades of careful research and truckloads of money to answer). I'm laying all this out for you because, honestly...there are some instances in which she NEEDS to simply say "I don't know." I'm not giving her a pass per say--I'm just sympathizing with the plight of teachers (after all even doctors can't know EVERYTHING about their fields).

That said, in the middle of her lecture/presentations...without any interruption from the class--she says "I don't know" too many times. Example: Today we were talking about different writing systems. We were talking about Chinese characters. All the sudden, out of the blue..."I don't know." What the hell? Lady, last night you could have read a book or gone online (shit, you love Wiki so much...go look it up there!). It's embarrassing. Not that she doesn't look shit up in class...oh, she does that!!! Today, with the smartboard still on she had to look something she went to Google and we watched her randomly click on links. As she vainly searched for whatever she was looking for, I sat in my seat and prayed for porn. You see, I could tell she wasn't really looking at the links too closely...she was just randomly hitting the links on the first page of results. She was looking for a Coca-Cola ad in Japanese. First off lady, you should have searched for images (because that's what you wanted). Secondly, you should have powered down the smartboard because the Internet is a big, steaming pile of porn. She gave up after five minutes. I was, needless to say, disappointed.

I'm not saying she's a bad teacher. Or that she's a complete moron (she has a PHD people). I guess--she's just one of those people who are so smart they come off as mildly retarded. In short, she's a fucking idiot. A smart one, but an idiot nonetheless. I know that's an oxymoron (ha-ha) but it's true and I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. If not, just come with me to'll see.

NOTE: For those of you who don't know, a smartboard is a big projector that allows an entire class to view what's on the teacher's computer screen.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

All You Need Is...

As I mentioned earlier this week, something happened that hasn't happened in a long...long...long time. I heard a new Beatles album. Okay, technically I didn't and technically I did. I guess it all depends on your point of view. Let me explain. There is this Vegas show Cirque de Soleil (a bunch of crazy acrobats and other weird, artsy stuff) that features all Beatles songs. The show is called LOVE. The "new" Beatles album I heard on Monday night is the soundtrack to this show. Amazingly, it too is called LOVE.

Time to split hairs: How is this a new album? The show/soundtrack is composed of reworkings, re-toolings, and mash-ups of classic Beatles songs. All of this was done digitally. Heresy? Perhaps, however I'm a more open minded Beatles fan. So far Apple records/EMI/Columbia (whoever owns the rights to The Beatles back catalogue) has been very discriminating with what happens to these old songs. Which begs the question--why did this album happen, and why is it not just commercial fluff? The songtrack was edited together by none other than George Martin (THE man behind The Beatles), also the two surviving Beatles both agreed to the project (big deal Macca and Ringo need money, right?). Interestingly, George's daughter also agreed and...*gasp* Yoko Ono agreed with the project as well. So this thing is Beatle approved--not some corporate cash rake.

LOVE is difficult to explain. I stayed away from it when it came out because I thought it was a mere "Greatest Hits" part two/repackage. This is not the case. The record opens with an a Capella version of of "Because" (from ABBEY ROAD). Simple enough, just snip out the instruments...then things get a little weird. I guess the best way to sum up this album is that it's like having an acid trip with your entire Beatles collection playing loudly. Example, the song "Gnik Nus" which as you can tell(if you have a mirror handy) "Sun King" played back words. Actually, just the vocals are backwards...the effect is very trippy, and surprisingly--beautiful (just as much as the original version). There are digital medleys, "Drive My Car" starts out normal yet the second chorus is replaced with the chorus from "What You're Doing" before finally melting into "The Word." The song finishes with "Drive My Car" (oh yeah, did I mention that in the middle is the guitar solo from "Taxman"?). This sounds (on paper) as fucking rubbish. However, this is not the case...somehow these elements swirl together...and work, they really gel together nicely.

The best "mash-up" (which is the melody of one song coupled with the lyrics of another) is Ringo's "Octopus's Garden." This track opens with the Ringo singing slowly, and gently like he did on "Goodnight" off the White might think you're hearing "Goodnight" at first because the instrumental portion is from that earlier track. Once the chorus hits, the music shifts to the songs actual music (and things speed back up). Sound effects (God did those boys like their sound effects) are all sprinkled about in all sorts of unusual ways. Example: the "Yellow Submarine" effects play in the background of "Octopus's Garden" contributing to that song's nautical theme.

Some songs are relatively untouched, many begin with chords to one song before turning into another. Others have minor pitch changes, or have a different sound because Martin went with alternate takes of classic tracks (George's "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" and "Strawberry Fields Forever" are treated in this manner--giving us an entirely new performance (granted you haven't heard the Beatles Anthology..and even if you have, these once rough cuts have been highly polished and have been inserted into lush, finished instrumental beds)).

My uncle David gave me his pirate copy (he got an actual copy for X-mas) the night before the funeral. On the way home I sat in my car and listened to this CD twice. The first time, all I did was smile. The second time I actually got a little teary eyed. Even though I've heard all the sounds before (minus the newly recorded orchestra for "Gently Weeps") it felt so new and fresh. I guess I never expected to have that feeling again, and getting it was a bit overwhealming (for this Beatle super-fan). It was like having a visit from a very old, dear friend. One you never thought you ever see again. I don't really have much of a desire to actually go and see the show, but I'm glad it exists, because a project like this would never have been done (by the actual Beatles production team). Usually I'm not a fan of remixes or mash-ups. They usually seem forced and are a bit hokey...I think the amount of time and talent thrown at this one has made it the smashing success it is. That, and you can't really go too bad when your raw material is so good.

I can't reccomend this album enough. It makes a great addition to older Beatle fan's collections and acts as a brilliant (great sounding) primer for new audiences. All you need is love.

Jason gives LOVE an A

The End of an Era

One of the reasons I moved to St. Louis was for the awesome music scene. I love rock and roll, and nothing beats a live show. Nothing. CD's and DVD's are great...don't get me wrong. But nothing beats live shows. Oh course, the irony is that as soon as I moved out here I quit going to shows (for the most part). Well, maybe I won't go THAT far...but I have slowed down. And not for the reasons you might think. It's not because I'm poor (which I am) but because there haven't been many good ones out here.

Sure, there was the Stones last year (at about this time). And Franz Ferdinand, and JET (that show was great). But that's about it. None of these shows have been at the one venue that really mattered (at least to me). That would be down on the landing...right by the river, at Mississippi Nights.

Mississippi Nights is a dingy little club, I first visited about four years ago. Me, my girlfriend (at the time), and my sister saw Guided By Voices with ...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead. Explosions in the Sky threw a piece of drum kit at us. I caught a guitar pick (wich I still have) from GBV guitarist Nate Farley. Great show. Blew my ear drums (and my mind). Then I went back again a few years later and saw The Old 97's with John Eddie. Another girlfriend, another great show. Stood dead center, very front and got Rhett Miller's sweat all over the front of my shirt (he's so dreamy). I encountered St. Louis legend Beatle Bob for the first time there (oh basically changed my entire life...I'm getting married beacuse of Beatle Bob...long story).

Mississippi Nights was this magical hallowed hall. I saw WAS because on January 19 Nights closed it's doors (much like the great NY landmark CBGB's). I wanted to WORK there...I want desperately to see another show that can never happen. In a way, I'm glad, because unlike most venues...I'll never see a bad show there. I'm sad, but not that sad. It's just another part of my past that gone for good. Nothing stays gold forever Ponyboy...nothing.

Fountain of Youth

Today I felt like a kid again. After tutoring me (math...ugh) Jaimie and me went over to Leah's to check out the Wii. She was sick, I brought her chicken fries. We spent about 45 minutes together just trying to trouble-shoot the Internet stuff. I managed to get it online (sort of)...eventually we gave up and me and Jaimie spent like 3 hours playing Wii Sports.

Bowling, baseball, tennis,golf, and boxing. Bowling ruled!!! There was no other word for it. Playing games were great...the crazy training was even better. Nothing feels better than knocking down 98 pins (and still having a bunch standing I might add). Leah was sick and remained in the background. I asked her a couple of times if she wanted to play, but she didn't feel good (and we were dominating). I feel bad. I didn't mean to ignore her...but the thing is amazing. The controller is intuitive and responsive as hell. My only complaint is that you need a big TV and a big empty room to play it in (there was a couple of near misses). Oh, and I may have hit the TV once (gently). I can see how people could (and have) totally smashed their sets with these controllers. I'm hopeful for Zelda, but I doubt I'll be playing much of it (too long...single player game not at my

I love my new XBOX 360...but this thing is beyond belief. My little sister is going to shit a brick (literally) the first time she swats a serve back over the net in tennis. She's going to go insane the first time she gets a strike (in bowling or baseball). I know...because I shat a brick and went insane. The little in game avatar (called a Mii) was it looked like me (or a good proximity to me). Shaggy hair, glasses, big pink lips, tall yet chubby was so cool to see myself, move and have me on the screen react.

The Wii is a temporary fountain of youth (play for 30 mintues and feel 10 years for an hour or more and then you start to feel OLDER, much...much...much...OLDER). I can barely type this post. My right are is SORE. During boxing my shirt was DRENCHED with sweat and my hair was a wet mop. This system could change the way people think about gaming (as far as being a passive, un-healthy pass time). However, a lot of people are going to have to cut back the amount of gaming they do...or they will harm themselves. Like tennis elbow for video games. I can totally see how people are getting hurt on this thing. Yet, at the same time...the numerous warnings were a bit annoying. "Are you sure you want to keep playing and not stop and take a break?" This message was played a bit too many times for my tastes (I'm an adult damn it!!! I'm break my fucking arm off if I want to!!!).

People who read this blog and don't play video games should find one of these things and try it out. It really is an experience for ALL ages. Truly this is a new direction for home entertainment. Leah, I hope you're feeling better soon (sorry I got you sick)...and I'm sorry we hogged your toy. Maybe someday you'll feel better and actually get to play!!!

Monday, January 22, 2007

Back Home

Well I just got back home to St. Louis. Saturday night at 11:30 I decided to drive home (during a wicked snow storm). I did this for two reasons: one I was starting to feel sick (didn't want to wake up the next day and feel to sick to drive out) and, two becuase I was afraid I'd get snowed in. So, I spent five hours slowly making my way to KC at a rate of 30 mph. It was really hard work staying both awake and on the road (it was really slick). Anyway, I got home and Sunday night was the visitation for my great-grandmother. Today was the funeral, which was short and sad. After a long lunch/dinner I left for St. Louis. The ride home sucked. I'm still sick. I missed three classes. I have a mountain of homework. I have to get up tomorrow for an early morning class. Ugh.

I'm worried about my great-uncle David. He's very sick and I'm afraid I saw him for the last time today. I really hope I'm wrong about that.

In other news, I heard a NEW Beatles CD today...I'll write about that later this week (sure as hell won't be tomorrow...I'm BUSY tomorrow). Try to soldier on without me.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Celebrity New Year's Resolutions...

Sure it's late...but check these out...

Video Blog--The Bubble Tea Episode

Here is my video blog. This is my second one for today. Earlier I did one about death/dying and it was waaay to long (and heavy) to post. So when me and Leah went to the Loop for dinner/lunch I took my camera along...enjoy.

Oh, also I'm not going to number them anymore because I hate having to go and look up what number I'm on. Yes, I really am that lazy.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Old Grandma

Every since I was a little kid, I had three grandmas. There was grandma Johnson, grandma Wendleton, and then there was "old" grandma. That would be my great-grandmother (my mom's mom's mother). Her name was Merle Schneider. The day I was born, in the very same hospital Old grandma had a very important heart opperation. I think this is can be attributed to her longevity. When all the pipes are clear, the machine will work longer and better. She was called Old grandma, because she was...well freakin' old. She was born in 1910, in a sod house.

The only other thing I know about her is that she took very good care of my mother growing up (letting her stay over a lot). She also went on many vacations with my mom and her brother, taking them all over. When my parents were first married, they lived in an apartment downtown (in what is now a shithole) in a building Old grandma owned.

But I never really met that person. For me, Old grandma old person. She started losing herself during the early part of my life. She didn't really get "bad" until 17 or 18 years ago, but I don't really ever feel like I knew her. She lived with my great-uncle David until about 16 years ago when she became too much of a handful. Then she was placed into a nursing home at Truman Medical Center in Lakewood (this is what my dad calls a "poor person's hospital," which it is). Amber got her first job there and saw her on a fairly regular basis (more than I did). I was too freaked out by the place. It stank and was overall a very depressing place to visit.

Her daughter (my grandma Johnson) died in 2001. It was sad, because by that point I don't think she even remembered having a daughter. I was sitting in my dorm with Leah today (we had just got back from the gym) when the phone rang. It was my Dad, we chatted a bit about school, and the bad weather they've been having in K.C. Then my Dad told me that Old grandma died this morning. I honestly wasn't that sad. In fact, I was happy for her. Despite what anyone else thinks, I think losing one's mind and then being placed in an institution filled with strangers is a fate worse than death. We can rationalize it all we want (there really was no way to care for her...she had become a burden none of us could handle) but the fact is she is better off gone than here. At 97, she lived a life that was longer and richer than I will probably have (being male and stressed out I will probably expire sooner than Old grandma's MUCH later). Whether or not there is a heaven and hell...she is free. She's free from suffering, pain, and the oblivion that her life had become--and I am happy (and relieved) for her.

This is the weirdest death I've ever experienced, because to me she's sorta been dead a while. Every since I was little I've expected her to die...but like the Energizer bunny she kept going, and going, and going...

Though I never really got a chance to know her, in death I've gotten a glimpse into who she used to be. Apparently, in the late '70s she paid for her funeral (and all the arrangements). God bless her little heart, she even paid for cars to come to our house and pick us up and take us to the funeral. How very thoughtful (and considerate) is that? As dumb as it sounds, I think the most gracious thing a person can do is take care of all that stuff. I want that for my loved ones. I don't want them to have to worry about a thing. This is a stressful time for everyone, the last thing anyone wants to do is talk money...coordinate family plans AND the pageantry that is a funeral. I'm finding out how hard it is to plan big events (wedding anyone?) I can't imagine planning something so important while in the throes of grief.

I'm going to be going back home with weekend (weather permitting) for the visitation and internment ceremony.

Merle Schneider 1910-2007

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

How I Won the War... 10:30 (or so) I beat CALL OF DUTY 2. It was a long, hard fight. From the icy Russian the blazing hot sands of Africa...and then finally that horrible uphill battle that was D-Day. I killed me a shite load of Satan spawn known as Nazis.

I think it's funny, in real life I won't even look at a gun...and yet...for 7 hours I killed and maimed. Video games are not real life--that much is obvious. And yet, in the heat of the moment I found myself gleefully mowing guys down. True, I knew it was all fake. I wasn't very scared. I knew my life was not in danger...and yet...something happened to me. Not all the time, maybe two or three times during the entire game...I felt this strange thing overtake me. It was like "fight or flight" times a million. I always wondered how soldiers can do it--kill I mean. But once you do it, it becomes not only easier...but mechanical.

I tell people that it would be impossible for me to do it...but then again...if I was pressed hard enough...and the ball was rolling (like it gets to rolling in the heat of war) I think anyone could be capable of killing lots and lots of people. I know I'm seeing too much into a simple game, but I think the same...mechanism that made me desensitized acts on those in war zones all over the world (in living, breathing real life). The game also made me appreciate how terrible war is, and the courage those young men had back in the '40s.

P.S. I earned 150 "gamer" points for winning the war. And I got an achievement. Beat that Leah.

Who Ya Gonna Call?

Currently I'm obsessed with a video that popped up on the net a few days ago. I haven't posted anything on it because it might have been a fake. Today, however, it was confirmed by two different (and I think reputable) websites: the video below is of an early preview of a GHOSTBUSTERS game for the XBOX 360!!!

You can see more on Youtube (search for "Zootfly" that's the poster/game maker). Now before we G-Buster fan's get too excited...the game is being held up because of some legal (i.e. money) issues. BUT! Don't lose hope because this sort of thing happens all the time with intellectual properties such as film tie-ins. MY QUESTION is this: Why would a game company work this long and hard (even though it's a rough demo it looks great) on something THEY DIDN'T HAVE THE RIGHTS TO? I wouldn't have even started until I had ALL the legal stuff hammered out. My bet is: this will come out with another name (not Ghostbusters). I think Sony Pictures/Dan Akroyd are too stingy with the licence. Case in point, GHOSTBUSTERS 3--never gonna happen. There are probably millions of people that would pay good money to see it (me included) and there are probably a thousand people, a dozen companies that would finance it...but Akroyd/Ramis/Murray are done with it. Unlike SOME people (George Lucas I'm looking at you) they don't fell it necessary to continually revist and repackage the past. They aren't one note people.

That said I'd love for this game (and hell...a new movie) to come out. But part of me also hopes they don't because they will invariably suck and tarnish the name Ghostbusters. God I am such a fan-boy.

"I guess what I'm saying kitten is: shit happens and who ya gonna call?"

Monday, January 15, 2007

Best Man

So the wedding is on September 21, 2008. We're already getting started though (I found out these huge, life altering events take a LOT of planning). Actually, Leah is doing the planning. I'm just shaking my head and saying "whatever you think" a lot. I feel bad, I should be more involved. But honestly, I don't really care too much about it. The flowers and things...not the wedding itself. Blue flowers? Okay. This china for the dinner? Fine by me.

We've been talking about "the wedding party" and it's made me realize that I don't have many friends. I am not a very social person, true. But that's not my biggest problem. No, my problem is keeping my friends once I get them. I tend to just let relationships drift away. Case in point: my old guard buddy Steve (10-5). We were the best of buds. It was very unlikely that we would become close. He was a little older, out of college...attending a Seminary. He was married, from Ohio. He worked second shift the first six months or so I was posted at Westside Business Park. Then Randy Blackwell got fired for leaving the post one too many times. Then Steve transferred to my shift so he could see his Misses more. We quickly became friends. He's a lot like me. We'd spend the nights talking (in person, or more often over the phone). I used to sit in a dark, cold one man booth and talk to him for hours on the phone. Oh the conversations we'd have. I didn't realize it at the time, but they were the only thing that kept me going during some pretty dark times. God, politics (God how he gloated when Bush was reelected), art, music, old times, college, death, work, life in general. We liked to play jokes on the rest of the crew. We'd fuck around on the used to drive our bosses crazy. I loved every minute of it.

We hung out after work. Before work. We went to like six or seven minor league hockey games. Played N64 (Goldeneye all the way baby!) and my XBOX. Our mutual friend John Going would come over sometimes. His wife didn't care for me too much. Made Steve act like a kid again, I guess. We picked up each other's mannerisms. People would get us confused on the phone or radios (we sounded a bit alike). Then we became a pastor and I went off to college. It was great, actually, the way it ended. We both left the job at about the same time. I was feeling bad when I told him I was getting my Associates and leaving for St. Louis. But then he got a job offer in Indiana. So we both closed a chapter at the same time.

I told him that we wouldn't be able to keep our friendship going strong, and I was right. I called him in Hawaii (Pearl Harbor) he called me in South Dakota (Mount Rushmore). The I called him from St. Louis (the Arch) and he called me from Memphis (Graceland). It was our little, running joke...calling each other from landmarks. Then, I guess we ran out of landmarks...or something. We did the email thing (I actually just wrote him prior to writing this) but it's been ages since I've heard from him.

Just before we quit, we started a book club. He picked C.S. Lewis's THE SCREWTAPE LETTERS. We both bought used copies and read it, then talked about. He was always trying to (gently) get me into the Jesus camp. It was nice. I found the book the other day and felt all warm and tingly. Life is funny, when you stop and think about all the really great people that drift in and out of your life. At the time you don't see them for who they really are (fantastic, amazing people) you just sort of take it for granted that they are there and they are who they are. I think that's a good metaphor for's great and you don't realize how nice it always seem to think it'll be there. Then it ends and you're sad. Not because it's over, but because you didn't realize HOW fantastic a ride it was until the train stops.

I have people like that now in my life. People I like (dare say love?) who I know in five years will be long gone. Dorm people, classmates, friends. People who I could (and do) stay up all night just talking to. People who will probably never amount to anything "grand" or whatever...but none the less are the most brilliant, colorful characters. More lively and comic than all the people in Shakespeare. I find it both sad and beautiful. Then there are the people who will stay, at least until the very end. They are good too, but in a different way. Obviously they're good, or else they wouldn't be "forever" kinds of people. I guess I'm just a silly romantic...fussing like I do for the people and things I have to give up. Say goodbye to.

What sucks is when you don't get to formally say goodbye. Like the bookstore. I walked out thinking I would be back the next day...but that day never came. I sad "bye" to my co-workers...but we didn't say "goodbye" or whatever you're supposed to say when you know you'll never see someone again so long as they live. Not because you don't like them enough, just that life is hard and complicated...and sometimes the road forks two ways. You're going one way, and they are going another.

I'm supposed to pick a "best" man for the wedding. But, truth be told, I have about six "best men." Some I can just barely recall...others I know today. It doesn't seem fair to me...only choosing one person. So, I guess the person I do pick will be a representative. A Congressman, if you will, representing all the boys and men who I've known and parted ways with. Those are pretty big shoes to fill, I'd say. I hope my friend writes me back, just so I'll know he still thinks of me as his friend. I still think about him, and all those other people that make life worth living.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Jack is back!

Just finished watching the season opener for "24." It was a two episode premiere. Jack bit a guy in the neck, there was blood. It was great. Me and Leah watched it in Andy's room (a guy who lives down the hall). We're all excited about tomorrow night (two more episodes!).

I moved back today to the dorms. It feels good to be back, though I wish things were better back home...

Friday, January 12, 2007

Video Blog #14

Sorry I forgot last week...

Even thought it's over a year away...

I'm about to go leave and get fitted for my tux (wedding stuff). Apparently I have to get fitted to qualify for some sort of special deal. Which means once it's closer to the wedding I'll have to be fitted again. Ugh. Then tomorrow we're going to go and listen to some presentation on china so we can "win" a trip to the Caribbean or some place. Ugh.

It's supposed to do something weather-wise this weekend. Snow, rain, sleet, ice? Who knows. Sunday will be a mess. How do I know? Because that's the day I'm moving back into my dorms (of course). I bought my text books yesterday, only spent $300. I saved $100 using (plug). Not too shabby. It was weird being back at DUMSL after the month off. Most of the stuff was still closed (like the Nosh) and there wasn't very many people. It was a ghost school.

JOB HUNT UPDATE: Applied online at Best Buy and for some kind of office assistant job at the school. I'm going to wait until I get moved in before looking anymore (I want to actually have a phone...instead of giving people Leah's). The way I set my classes up is really good though. Basically, I can't work 2 days a week (Monday and Wednesday). I have one class early (like 9AM) on Tuesday and I have the afternoon/evenings on those days and Friday, Saturday, and Sunday are totally open. I've gotten jobs with weirder/worse schedules.

I was all excited about PAN'S LABYRINTH opening up...then I went to the film's website and discovered I was's NEXT Friday that it opens. Oh well. Looks really good. Speaking of movies, I brought a bunch of DVD's with me from home. There's one I want Jimu to watch because it's a geeky romantic comedy (me and Jimu...we like-a da' romantic comedy). I heard he slept in a hostel in Texas and kept everyone awake with his snoring. Ouch. I remember the night he stayed over in my dorm (Leah was there too...don't freak out). It was like sleeping with ban saw/grizzly bear in the room. Poor fucker. I need to talk to him, to see how the rest of his trip went.

Oh, and I need to do a video blog today...geez...I almost forgot! Expect to see that later today.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Return to the Scene of the Crime

So yesterday me and Leah went back to KC. I drove. The drive was long and boring. We got home and everyone was home...we were nervous. Long story short everything was fine. My dad said like two words to me. This morning I woke up early and made blue pancakes and biscuits and gravy for breakfast. The blue pancakes were for my little sister. I always add a strange food coloring when I'm making pancakes for her. I also add a little vanilla or almond extract to make them taste just a little different.

I was happy to hear that my little sis made my mom finish reading JAMES AND THE GIANT PEACH. She told me that they'd gone out and rented the movie and it was good. I felt really crappy when she asked me to watch it with her and I said "no." But she had basketball practice and we had to come back to St. Louis today. Of all the regrets I have, the ones that hurt the worst involve not being there for that kid.

Me, my sister Amber, and Leah went back to Longview lake to search for the missing phone. We tried calling it, but the battery was dead. After about two hours of searching (and horsing around) we gave up and had lunch with my mom near her work in Greenwood (a nice Italian place I don't remember the name of). After that it was back to my parents house to get Rusty and our things...then we were gone. I drove back (because we took Leah's car and it sucks...there is no cruise control so long trips tire you out she did enough just coming back with I wouldn't have to go alone).

I shaved after breakfast. All of it. I've been wanting to do it for a while now, but my razor's battery died earlier in the break. Stupidly, I left the charger in my dorm (which I can't get into until Sunday morning at 8AM). So I borrowed my Dad's. I needed the shave so I can (hopefully) find work. Tomorrow I'm going to UMSL to buy books and my parking sticker. Then I plan on starting the job hunt. Apparently there's going to be a winter storm of some intensity this weekend. I hope it's nothing too bad. Anyway, that's about it--that's the story of my past 2 days.

Things I saw on TV I liked: MY BOYS on TBS. Jimu, this looks like something you'd like...really sweet and funny.

Things I keep saying (and Leah too) that I need to quit saying: "To be honest with you..." and "The thing is..." horrible, lazy ways of starting sentences. Sometimes we even double then up on top of each other "To be honest with you, the thing is..." Yikes, when the hell did that happen?

Tuesday, January 09, 2007


Me and Leah are supposed to go back to KC today. I talked to my Dad on the phone, and it didn't go very well. We talked for a long time, and just ended up chasing our tails. I'm done fighting with him (and them). From now on I'm just going to keep my mouth shut when I go home. I talk to much anyway, the less I say the better. I guess that's going to be my "new year's resolution."

It was spitting snow here, but then it stopped. I have about six days until school starts, and I still haven't gotten my books yet!

I went to lunch with Leah's dad and sister. We went to the California Pizza kitchen at the Galleria. It was alright. They both applied some pressure about my future career. (Her sister telling me what I can't do (her if I wanted to be a salesperson) and her Dad suggesting what I should do (help him run his company)). Overall I wasn't impressed. Sissy's job is boring and Daddy's job scares the shit out of me (his employees are...dubious at best...). I didn't get pissed off or nothing, I just sat there and politely nodded my head. Later on that night her Dad apologized, but really he didn't need to--because the whole thing was too funny.

Leah is still on her Wii hunt (Godbless her). She used Uncle Paul's gift card to purchase the new Zelda all she needs is the system to play it on! I'm excited about the new semester ahead. I hope to make abunch of positive changes during this, my second last semester of school.

Monday, January 08, 2007

If it wasn't my'd almost be funny...

So once again it's happened. I got in a stupid fight about stupid crap with my parents. I've been in St. Louis now for 2 days. Despite what's happened (and what they might say) I really have tried to get along with them when I go home. I try to do as much as I can for them when I go home. I cook, I clean, I volunteer to do as many little chores and things that I can. Too bad I can't keep my mouth shut.

We never really want to hear what the other one's saying. We yell. Both sides are really good at coming up with barbed things to shout at the other one (that have nothing to do with the reason we're fighting). They think I'm like this raging pyscho, but the truth is I'm not. No one really gets me worked up like they do. Probably because they're my parents. I've had people do all sorts of awful, really nasty shit to me. I've had people choke me, smack me, shoot at me (yes), and I've been cursed and cussed by all sorts of people...and yet...the slightest thing they do sets me off. Not that other stuff.

Part of me is guilty that they still help me out as much as they do. I want to be this independent, person (man) and yet I'm still getting their help. Now you'd think that would make me not want to yell at them...but it doesn't. I think sometimes I'm just trying to sabatoge my life. Like I want them to cut me off, write me off just so I'll have no other choice but to go it alone. This is my last semester of that though, so hopefully that will go away.

Anyway, I'm probably going to go back tomorrow to retrieve a few things (and to part with them in a better manner). I still won't ever forget this one, though. My dad yelling at me in the driveway...telling me I dissapoint him. Where the hell do you go after something like that? The only reason I go to college is because of him. He's the only reason I do a lot of things. And yet, hearing him say that did't really upset me...or shock me. I've kind of always know that I dissapoint him. Every fault I have is "the Johnson" in me (my mother's maiden name). As I've grown up, it seems I've beceome more and more "Johnson." Nevermind that his family is just as fucked up as nearly everyone eles's. I used to think that if he died or something I'd quit school and be a hobo or something. The truth, though, is that I have more reasons now to live my life that just making him happy or proud...or whatever.

The part that worrys me is that I know I'm going to be hard on my own kids, too. The thing parents and children need to realize is this: people are people. And by that I mean, just because you call someone "Mom" or "son" doesn't dimish that. We all have roles we try to play, but in the end all we are is people. People with hopes and dreams, fears and failures. Speaking of which, I have a lot of fears, but letting my parents down is no longer one of them. Not because I've already done that (which I have) but because I don't think there is anyway a person can't let their parents down. Everyone grows up thinking they're going to be president or whatever. No one thinks, "I'm going to grow up and be a middle American. I'm going to work in a shitty little office and then die..." The same about kids. No one thinks, "I'm going to have a son who is boring and introverted...who can't make friends and who won't ever do anything interesting." The ideal person is also emotionless. Well, not totally...after all the ideal child is supposed to be grateful he/she was born. But that's it. There is no room for desires, fears, or hopes. These things can cause conflict. Kids aren't a fungus...they're not an extension of a a arm or a foot. They're living breathing independent states. Little nations, comeplet wit a Homeland Insecurity department. Give them an inch and they demand seven more.

Like the title of this post says, all this would be hysterically funny if it weren't my life. I keep falling into the same traps, it's pathetic. I can only say that I must be stupid, because only a stupid person would keep tripping over his shoelaces and never once think of tying them...which is what I'm doing. At least I'm man enough to say when I've fucked up, and when I'm wrong. I do feel good about that. I also have no problem saying when I don't know something. I take pride in that, if nothing else. The older I get, the less respect I have for people who bullshit through life, or who act like their shit doesn't stink. It takes two to tango, make a baby, and have a war. I don't take comfort in knowing this is only half my fault, but I respect myself for claiming what's mine.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

The @#$%-ing Lake the past few days have been shite for me. Me and my folks have been going at it and I've been feeling a little like I was getting sick. So today I got out of the house and took an 8 mile walk around Longview Lake. I just got home and boy am I tired.

Now the bad news...I think I lost my damn phone at the lake. 99.999% sure...ugh. So tomorrow I'm going BACK to the lake (GBV) and I hope I can find it. Anyway, I took some pics while I was there, enjoy.

I Forgot

You know what? Yesterday sucked so much that I forgot about my video about that? I got stuck taking care of my baby sister (she stayed home from school because she is sick). I read about half of JAMES AND THE GIANT PEACH to her. Then everyone came home from work and decided to watch 8 hours of America's Next Top Model. Well I wasn't having any of I went to the bookstore and bought a CD and two books (one for me and one "for" Lindsey). I ended up coming home and reading the book I bought for Lindsey alone in my room (stupid VH1 and their stupid Marathons). I had no idea there was a sequel to CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY. But there is, CHARLIE AND THE GREAT GLASS ELEVATOR. It wasn't as good as the first, but what is? I read it in about an hour and a half. Then I stayed up late watching the Fix on (reruns of Robot Chicken and a new episode of Assey Mcgee (which I'm sad to say is growing on me)). I'm sad because (a great anime website I recently found) has been shut down (for all intensive purposes). Oh, it's still up, but all the licensed shows were taken down. Suck.

I can't decide if I'm about to get sick or not. I'm slightly stuffy when I wake up...but then it goes away once I'm up and about. I have no appetite, and I feel achy all over (that could be from the jump roping I did a few days ago...damn I'm getting old...)

I'm not sure what I'm going to do about the Video blog...I may do one later today and just post it...or I may wait a week. We'll see.

And lastly, it's been a week...and that video of my Dad has been viewed 60 times! I'm hoping it'll get picked up by WEBJUNK or something like that...

Thursday, January 04, 2007

A Home For Everyone?

I just read an interesting article on Yahoo News. The French government is considering passing legislation that will make housing a "legal right." According to the article, this will make France the second such European country to do so (Scotland did this a few years back). What this means is that if you live in France and you don't have a home, the government will give you a place to live. Now, at first I thought "Wow, that sounds really great." Then the reality of what this might mean started to sink in. There are thousands of homeless people in is the government going to pay to build these people apartments or mass shelters or whatever? Taxes.

Socialism is a really great idea. I think I like it better than Communism--on paper. You see, on paper both sound really great. Then you take the starry eyed idealism into the real world...and you get a fucking mess. For starters, even if these government run homes are shitty (which they probably will be) and full of drug abusers and mentally ill people (which they probably will be) there will be a certain set of people who will choose to take advantage of the government even though they probably could acquire a home of their own. What I'm suggesting is, there will be people who, if they tired (and say did a little hard work) could get a home but will opt instead to have the French government just take care of them instead. Now, what about those crazy/drug users I mentioned? Well won't the government have to help them/become responsible for them once they are living in French owned housing? Won't people be able to sue the French government when their free housing is torched because their crack-pipe-using neighbor fell asleep while getting high? I'm not an expert on French Law...and maybe the people there aren't as lawsuit happy as we Americans are, but still I wonder about how responsible the French government is going to become once it takes all these undesirables under it's wing.

I guess I'm just too cynical to enjoy this. I'm sure everything will turn out fine for this French experiment. I'm sure no one will sue the government. I'm sure there will be no scandals involving French politicians and the various contractors/building companies that will no doubt be involved in such a momentous project as building everyone in France a place to live. The idealist in me is very happy about this...but the older I get the louder the voice of the "realist" (i.e. the voice with the common sense) gets. I'm looking forward to watchign this development. I hope this becomes law and isn't just election year rehtoric.

Break Nearly Over

Well this morning Leah and Rusty went back home to St. Louis...and I'm still stuck out here in KC. I worked out today (walk around the block, jumped rope, lifted by weights) and am in the process of doing my laundry. I cooked dinner tonight for my folks (and cleaned up afterwords). I played some of my XBOX (Leah I got past that tricky part in Gears of War on my first try). I'm halfway through my break...and it's depressing to think about school starting a week from next Tuesday. Yikes.

My bud Jaimie is coming out on Sunday (by the way I haven't forgotten to get you those directions...I've just been busy, I'll get them to you soon). We're going to have all sorts of moderate fun (just kidding, it'll be great).

My little sister came home from school sick, so that means tomorrow I'm going to be watching her. I was going to head for the library and do some writing, but I guess that's out. Maybe Saturday (?).

That video I posted of my Dad has been viewed 50 times in 2 days. That is a record for my YouTube video posts!! After I got a "comment" from this kid in Greece about it (that's the first time I've ever gotten any response to a video post on YouTube as well)...I decided to let my folks in on what was going on. They were cool...not sure how cool they're going to be when they see it on VH1 or MTV (or one of those other internet clip shows) but oh well...

Monday, January 01, 2007

Guns 'N Roses Dance (GNRD)

Here is the story of the GNRD:

Last night, we were all sitting around playing Phase 10. We were killing time before the ball dropped and all that...and we were listening to classic rock (101 the FOX, not my first choice in classic rock stations...but I guess in my absense 99.7 KY has gotten crappy/all the cool jocks are gone). Anyway, they were playing "all the great classic party songs." What should happend to come on, but the classic Guns 'N Roses song "Paradise City." Without saying a word (and without anyone really watching him) my dad just launches into this great (no doubt alcohol influenced) Axl Rose dance. So this morning I got him do to it again (because in reality me and my dad are the same, we love making asses of ourselves for the amusement of others).


New Year, Same Old Crazy...'s 2007...last night was fun. I was pretty lame and once again I just stayed home (where it's safe). Me and Leah rang in the new year by playing Resident Evil 4 (we just got to the second disc) and by playing a long, long game of Phase 10 with my mom and sister Lindsey. Speaking of which, that's sparkling grape juice she's drinking in the picture below (that was provided for her and myself, the evenings twin non-alcoholics).