To Get It

God. Life. Getting it.

It’s a wonder how we can stand up right when the winds of discontent and turmoil blow so hard. I’m not sure where to begin when I’m not even sure where it ends? That only makes sense to me but that’s okay; you’ll get it in the end too.

There is a choice you have to make, in everything you do. So keep in mind that in the end, the choice you make, makes you.” – Anonymous

A person I know was very close to me and infrequently visited this blog. I don’t know why but I can only assume it was to check to see what I write and see if she was material. Regardless the reason, she would state that sometimes it was less than accurate from what she experienced at the same event. Writing is a medium to translate how my brain works and what I think. In every situation I look for the humor. If I didn’t, what’s the point of this? It would just be an account of where I have been and what I am doing and even I don’t care about that. She doesn’t get it. And unfortunately never will. That’s a heavy-hearted subject.

“Uncle Bill”

Hello?

Come again?

Come again?

Stay?


Stay awhile,

Stick around awhile,

Stick around

For as long as you can.


Heaven help you,

God help you,

Jesus help you,

Everybody else help you.


Everybody,

Everybody make happy,

Make everybody happy,

Be a comedian.

-Bill Borchardt

I saw American Movie the other day and the elderly Uncle Bill let out a stream of consciousness that moved me so profoundly, I was actually in tears. It relayed hopelessness and hope, life, loneliness and companionship, sadness, humanity, and the conclusion to life, ending up the same we began: alone. Nothing in recent memory made more sense than this and it scared me. I see it all the time in the faces of the institute. People who are put away for a disease they can not control. I see it in the elderly who are left in “homes” and forgotten. I see it in myself when I ask the universal question of “why?”. Kind of funny how things like this mean so much to me, while to others, they basically glaze over. To get it.

I’m not what I ought to be,

Not what I want to be,

Not what I’m going to be,

But I am thankful that I’m better than I used to be.

-John Wooden

Can this be any greater of a poetic statement? It’s a motto and no matter where we end up, if we hold this close to the heart only better will we be. (What kind of Yoda speak is that?)

Well, I think I have made my annual “what’s this all about” post so on to bigger and better with a touch of the insane. Trust me, after this summer, I have a pretty good base of comparison. Someone recently told me they aren’t crazy just mentally hilarious. That is something I can respect. So I will now leave you with the greatest picture I found from an old online news article.

My address is so boring!

The Worst Renaissance Fair Ever

Okay, I can’t actually claim that this is the worst Renaissance Fair ever, but I am hard pressed to believe there is one as bad as this without  involving a hosting elementary school for the deaf and blind. This was no more medieval than the post-eighties transformation of the princess/girlfriends of Bill and Ted. (Wild Stallions!) No, this was a huge suck. Excalibur dinner theatre would be sad for this. Enter the Idaho’s Renaissance Fair of Shit.

What you see above is a real Renaissance Fair in all of it’s glory. There should be knights, mead, giant turkey legs, whore-ish wenches and horse poop! I should enter the gates a normal guy and leave a loser and proud owner of a sword. There should be everyday people who have grown a perfect Spinal Tap mullet just for this occasion and sing ballads of while juggling. Damn it, this is the time when we can all reference Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail for the first time since high school! But not in Idaho.

I really don’t know what I was expecting. Sure I live in a small college town where the elevation out numbers the population but come on. If you are going to fuck around and say there is a Renaissance Fair in town, don’t forget the Renaissance. For awhile I thought that I was at the wrong park and was pretty giddy to think not only is there a Renaissance fair in town but there is a hippy art fair too!

Then I saw the Ye Ol’ Hot Dog Stand supporting the local Church of Later Day Saints. That is when I knew that there was not the Renaissance Fair that I have grown to love but a dirty, hippy craft fair in disguise with castle hot dog stands and a few nods to the days of knights and dragons.

Nods like custom-made shoes which is a stretch, but back then, they did have shoe smiths. The guy selling them had huge dread-locks and I over heard a woman asking him a question. Perhaps it was my untimely eavesdropping but when she asked him how he cleans them he told her with herbal dread soap. She said, “not your hair, the shoes”. For some reason that caught me so off guard I just couldn’t contain myself.

Also, right after I took this picture I met eyes with an old dude who nodded in approval. He thought I was taking pictures of these girls’ asses.

I am all about going green and not wasting what can be reused but I thought it was a little ridiculous to have guards in front of the three separate containers, ensuring no one throws a paper cup in the aluminum bin. I had just bought apple cider and was too intimidated to throw out my gum in fear I would have a high school girl scream at me for a wrong toss. It really didn’t matter anyway. Oh and the apple cider? It was hot apple juice. Fuck! Ass!

There were a few people who came “dressed to impressed” but like me, they were fooled by the title. It seemed like they were invited to a costume party by some dicks and when they showed up, it was just a normal party.

Damn, this is kind of a fucked up picture, eh? For the life of me I can’t remember how or why I took it. To the unassuming eye, it appears that the kid is trying to stab a dismounted child cyclist. You know what? Let’s keep it at that.

And this is what where I leave you. A great symbol of the Renaissance Fair I experienced this weekend. There are no words. Wait, yeah there is. Total shit. Hmmm, guess that’s two.

“The Last Man On Earth…

…sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door.” – Fredrick Brown

This short story chills me to the bone and is by far one of my favorite horror stories of all times. I have a visual imagination, and since my late Grandfather told me this story, I imagine myself sitting at a table in a small room with nothing but a few books to contain my mind from being lost and perhaps a dim fire to keep me warm. I just sit knowing that I am the very last person on Earth. And then there is a knock.

So the other day I Googled this short story to read it once more and get that great joy of goosebumps and childhood nostalgia. It is only two sentences long so I didn’t spend much time reading it on various formats and blogs but I did do a Google image search and to my great surprise I found this:

A picture of me. I took this last summer on a run between Pullman, Washington and Moscow, Idaho on a trail I call “Heavenly Purgatory with a touch of Hell”. I have never mentioned this short story on this blog or any other and it is just a mind-blower to see me on a Google-image search for this great short story called “Knock”.

In other news, I have a new article up over at Review the World. It’s a little touch of where I live and where people go to buy their drugs and penis soap. Say hi to Brian while you are there. He and Amanda are expecting their first baby anytime now so send them over some love!

It’s Christmas Time Already?

What? When did this happen? I am not going to say that I don’t like it, but what happened to, well, the year? I suppose there is no use in being upset by a year that when from zero to “Ba-Zing” so…let’s start the holiday off with a bang!

If the above image is confusing to you, then I guess you don’t have X-Entertainment.com in your life, and I am sad for you. Like a broken record, every year at the same time, I shout from the mountain tops to check out Matt’s famous site of all things great. So this year is no different. Make a point to click the link and take a fun trip, whether it is the blog or the wacky antics in the advent calender, I promise you’ll feel colors. Red and Green colors.

For the first official day of the 2009 Christmas season, I believe I will discuss the greatest memories I have and that is the countless hours spent browsing the Sears catalog, making a “wish list” and checking twice. Or three hundred times. Ok, five hundred. Whatever. Combing my memory, here are some great toys that even today, I wouldn’t mind having.

The USS FLAGG was the greatest toy a boy could have. It was like a toy for your toys. That didn’t make any sense, I know, but go with me here. It was so massive it required a permanent portion of a room. I had fantasies about this thing. I dreamed of being the kid that truly had the best gift every kid wanted and the massive amounts superficial friends I would acquire because of it. I dreamed of eating cheeseburgers on the deck while watching Thundercats. I dreamed of reenacting the opening scene of  Top Gun while humming the theme song. A kid can dream, can’t he? But sadly enough, it was a dream. Never had the damn thing.

Holy shit did I have a few of these. I think this was the present that all my relatives bought for me when I was six. It was as if everyone got a memo for that Christmas stating my aspirations to build a fleet for the Rebel Alliance. What ever the case, if you needed a Kenner X-Wing; I was your guy. The one thing I hated about this toy was the laser sound. It made a noise that would turn a cat inside out and explode. What ever that noise was, it was not a laser sound. Watch this below and see what I am talking about. “REEEEE”

Speaking of lasers, remember this awesomeness of awesome? The Hasbro Lazer Tag set was one of my most treasured Christmas gifts and even though I never found a kid in the neighborhood who had a set to compete with, I did enjoy shooting myself with the help of the bathroom mirror. The only thing I didn’t like about this was the noisy heartbeat sounds on the monitor. Made sneaking around pretty much impossible.

When I was searching for the perfect Transformer picture to rant and rave for the “must have” toy of the mid to late 80’s, I came upon this. Megatron. In an instant I was whisked off the couch back to 1987, sitting in my PJ’s on the blue carpeted den in Marietta, Georgia on Christmas morning. On my lap was this glorious purple box. When I took it out of the static clinging styrofoam I immediately began to “transform” the Rugger pistol into the nemesis of Optimus Prime, ignoring the pleads of my father not to force it. But before I knew it, I forced it, and hyper-extended it. I broke off the leg of Megatron. Though the disappointment was apparent, I still managed to enjoy it for what it was. God, I can still smell the pine, scotch tape and new plastic. Some nostalgia can rival any of Einstein’s greatest theories.

Pow Pow Power Wheels! Much like the dream of owning the USS Flagg, another pipe dream of mine was owning a set of Power Wheels. I had plenty of first grade daydreams of driving my Power Wheel Jeep to the store for my Mom or picking up my pal Toby and cruising to Showbiz Pizza and catching a Rock-A-Fire Explosion animatronic show. But it was not in the stars. But the next year I did car jack the neighbors daughter and take her Barbie Jeep around the block. That is until Mom found out and a foot chase issued. Turns out Power Wheels were a lot faster in my dreams. I was escorted by the elbow to a cell without dinner.

The WWF Wrestling Buddies were a big item for my friends and me. What toy could be better than an Ultimate Warrior a 75 pound kid can body slam? In fact, this pillow character above is directly responsible for a dislocated shoulder. I will just say the couch is not a platform for a pile driver. It’s embarrassing to admit losing a match to a half pound pillow. Even if it was this dude:

Yeah, would you mess with this guy? I didn’t think so.

Perhaps it was for a lack of siblings but I really wanted a bear that could read me bedtime stories and have conversations about Star Wars. This was the one time it was sociably acceptable to have a teddy bear as a boy. We all knew Christopher Robin was a pansy. But going through my old photos from my time home for Thanksgiving I found a troubling picture.

Ah shit. No wonder. I will leave it at that. No wonder.

Nothing will fuck a vacuum up like a Lite Brite peg. I know this from experience. But really, I have received this a couple of different times during Christmas and even though I understood the concept, I never made anything more than an illuminated Jackson Pullock. Seriously, if Lite Brite was an intelligence test, I would have scored somewhere between “cat with paintbrush in mouth” and “chimp with paint on it’s ass”. Meh, this was a shit gift.

No, I have never owned a Strawberry Shortcake doll but I have tried to eat one. Like you haven’t at least thought about it. But I can attest, it just tastes like plastic.

I believe this is a good way to wrap up this old Christmas-want article. The one, the only Castle Greyskull. Even my Grandmother knows what Castle Greyskull is. This magnificent play set was a Masters of the Universe staple in every snotty kid’s room. I was shit, I admit. I even had Skeletor’s Castle. In fact, there are fond memories of saying “boner” over the Doom microphone. I suppose you have to be eight to see the humor. I still cackle when I hear “boner”.

I hope some of my memories have brought up a few of yours. I know I can’t be alone in my head toy chest. Tis the season to be happy and these memories make me smile no matter where or when. Let’s kick off the X-Mas fun starting….right…….NOW!

Where Did You Go? Part 12

Man,  I havn’t done one of these for a while. Actually, I haven’t done much of anything on here for a while. And for that, I am sorry. So to make amends, I am writing this pants-less with large foam sombrero on my head. The things I do for you people. Now let’s get down to business.

grace_l

“Graaaaaaaaace!” Holy shit, this lady is one of my favorites. It is Edie McClurg, the round, bubbly, chipper mid-western lady that occasionally will drop an F-bomb. Everything about her, I love.  And it is not just because she has been in John Hughes films. Although that is a big part. What am I talking about? Between Ed Rooney’s secretary role and her role in Planes Trains and Automobiles, she can do no wrong with me. In fact, even if those were her only two times on the silver screen, she would still be a huge star to me.

7145087_gal

But even though she rocked the last half of the eighties, her type-cast didn’t hold her back from continuing a very busy career all the way to today. She started satirical acting at a young age and was even a voice in the 1960’s cartoon The Jetsons. (How awesome would it be if she was Astro?) Her first real movie role was Carrie an since then she has been in John Hughes’ films,  Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers, voice overs for Pixar movies and numerous of TV shows like Small Wonders, Diff’ent Strokes, Mr. Belvedere, Sienfeld, Rosanne and so many others. Oddly enough she was never in an episode of Murder She Wrote. There goes that theory. But still, her role as Grace the secretary made her what she is for me today: a sex symbol I am not proud of. Rowr…

carrie5

If you look close, that is Edie in the shower. Yeah, I need to get out more.

Weird-science-image-300x168

I forget who requested Wyatt from Weird Science but here you go. His real name is Ilan Mitchell and was discovered by a talent agent at a ballet studio in Massachusetts. Yeah, speaking of weird. From then he went on to a brief but successful acting career including, of course, Weird Science, The Chocolate War, the TV series Superboy and few others. To be perfectly honest, I only remember him as Wyatt and have very fuzzy memories of Superboy. But that is okay because…

41he wasn’t meant to be an actor but rather a real life professor.

It’s true, Ilam went from Weird Science to Weird-Beard and also…total…denim. Sorry, that distracted me. What was I saying? Ah yes, Ilam is married with two kids and is an assistant professor of English. Oddly enough his wife never knew of his acting career until one day she confessed to loving The Chocolate War. That is when Ilam not only confessed to loving The Chocolate War as well but also to staring in it. TA DA! I don’t know what is more disturbing; being married to the star of your favorite movie and not knowing it or not knowing you’re married to the star of the John Hughes 1986 classic, Weird Science. Either way, that is a great excuse for domestic violence.

Chris Burke03aPlease don’t think that I am about to do what you think I am. I am actually curious to see what Chris Burke, who played Corky Thatcher in the early 1990’s hit show Life Goes On, is up to today. And looking to IBDM for a reference it seems that Chris has been on a few other shows like ER and Touched By An Angle. There are others but to be honest, if the role he plays in Life Goes On, Touched By An Angle  and ER is the same, is it worth listing? That’s what I thought too.

I might be alone on this but did it piss anyone off that his family nicknamed him “Corky” on Life Goes On? If you have a downs syndrome kid, don’t give him a fucking nickname. Especially if it is cute and ends in a “Y”. AT LEAST Chris was able to rise above it. In an interview he said:

People said I could never become an actor because I’m retarded. It goes to show you that anyone can make their dreams a reality… unless they’re brain dead.

Holy Fuck.

In my quest to see what Chris is up to, I found this on YouTube and had to sit for awhile after. There are somethings that leave me unable to add anything to them. This is one of those times. If there are small children in the room, you might want to ask them to leave now.

So…anyone for a chip? Yeah, I lost my appetite too.

Up ↑