Off Site "Work" (pt 4)

Work is one thing. Working off site? Another. "Working" out of state? Can get to you.

I managed a speedy scramble in the hotel gym, growing flustered when the built in TV doesn't seem to pick up any reception and I'm forced to listen to the grind of the track instead of tuning out to whatever is playing. (Eventually, 2.5 miles into 3 I find a channel...Stock Reports. Fun.) I'm running late as usual and I'm supposed to meet my co-worker in the lobby in 15 minutes. I make it back to the room swilling coffee and water before taking a very fast shower and heading down to the lobby. It's here, where I should mention the travel hairspray I purchased works very well- by which I mean to say it kept my hair pasted down and immobile in spite of my attempts to "floompf" it out. And I was still sweating profusely when we got to the office. It would be the 2nd time in my working life when co-worker looked at me to see if I'm okay when it's just "I was doing speed-work an hour ago!" Frass.

We attend a few meetings before performing some "shadowing" and...it's here I need to derail for a sec:

1) It's interesting to interact with Vegas "residents" proper. The one's who avoid the strip, the tourons. That go to work, then the grocery store, then home. Nevada is their home. Not that this is a huge deal. Just worth noting that most folks dealing with Vegas only tend to know the strip. They're people. And...

2) It struck me that, in a state that can provide outdoor type activities- year round- in a 4 state area? It seemed that a lot of them weren't very active. It was qualified to me that most people can only manage 1.5 mile walks at a time 9 months out of the year...still. We don't like going outside 6 months out of the year...and we seem kind of. I don't know. More active? Ambulatory? Willing to get outside to enjoy nature?

Through happenstance, I shadowed with a dude who was a runner and heading to Long Beach for a 1/2 Mary and he made these comments to me. (He lives 1/2 mile away but biking was out of the question, stating he'd be sweaty- then inside the blasting a.c. and miserable for the rest of the day while he dried) The guy was cool, and actually invited me to the UNLV track to do hill work with the running club he was a part of. Tempting. But we had plans. Next time, I exclaimed. *

After lunch at Super-Tex and a few more meetings (Whyyyy? Corporations, hear me. Do NOT schedule meetings right after lunch. During? Sure. The rest of us will be propping our eyelids open with paper clips) we finally made it back to the hotel after a very long day. My reward for this productivity: My co-worker wanting to meet in the lobby at 5pm to figure out dinner. (I balked and said 6. And that if we weren't getting sushi- my first choice- then we were getting seafood.)

And finally...your buddy gets his hot tub. In the rain. And I didn't care.

I don't remember those people...(pt 3)

I like to nap. A lot. And after a mildly stressful day, I felt it my civic duty as a resident of the state of MN to diplomatically bring the nap to the Southwest. (And really...it was an attractively large bed.) We had agreed to meet up and make a plan for dinner and after I had tucked myself in and checked my online business- I got busy burying myself in the sheets...

Until the phone rang at a decibel level reserved for 12 year olds on the roller coaster. It was the front desk. Making sure I was checked in and settled in all right. Yes, I said. I was just downstairs procuring my key not 20 minutes ago. Thank you.

And then my cell. My boss wanted to know if we'd settled on anything for dinner. (Again, with the settling.) After a flurry of texts, she bowed out and left it up to my co-worker and I to figure out. I pulled the sheets back up, started to fade again, when the screaming ringer went off on the phone. Again. This time it was the co-worker asking if I'd came up with any ideas for dinner. I said I'd meet her in the lobby in 15 minutes and after checking to see that I hadn't wet the bed due to being startled a second time, we headed out.

I decided that instead of picking something close to the hotel we'd drive toward the strip and see if anything floated our fancy. This parlayed into a trip down the strip and...wow. Every time I go to Vegas, it feels like the strip gets longer. (Mostly this can be attributed to traffic, but as it was a Monday night ,traffic was reasonably light) While snapping camera pics she asked me where "downtown" was. So I said "let's go". And go we did. (Sad note- "The Sahara" is now gone baby gone. No particular memory of that place, just kind of sad seeing a big, dark casino with the unused roller coaster in front.) We passed the glut of bail bonds offices, nasty hotels, and drive-through casinos before hitting downtown proper, circling the block, and finally parking at the 4 Queens.

And WTF...

Downtown is a great place to "come down" after an all day gamble/party binge. I stayed at the Nugget a few years back and while it wasn't the popular part of town, I liked the old-school chill feeling. And while it still retains some of that, it's going through some growing pains experienced by the Vegas Strip "proper". Namely...the characters. And not the tour-ons. I mean how I had to slam on the brakes in the rental to let Jack Sparrow cross "drunkedly". Earlier, my co-worker asked why I don't take a theater gig in Vegas. Reasons aside, I told her that the good Captain there was probably the best role someone like myself could hope to land.
Except it didn't really end with that...weird...anachronistic dude. We had, in addition to the showgirls who posed for pictures:

The Blues Brothers
The Mad Hatter (from the "Alice" remake)
Some guys that looked like the Rat Pack waaaaaay past their prime
Spider-Man...in one of those costumes in a bag from around 1998. (I later bumped into Spidey who had taken off most of his costume, where it was being worn almost like a scarf. I guess he was off-duty)

It just didn't make sense. After dinner, where we eavesdropped on an East Coast family yelling at each other ("If I had my way, I'd feed you to a wood-chipper and am it at the Hudson!") we meandered a bit before realizing that we hit a two-beer wall and needed to go home. (It was "only" 10:00 pm...but we were still rocking CST time) We were released from the parking ramp for free (I didn't know it needed validation, and the guy was offended we didn't do any gambling in the casino) And we slowly ambled our way back to the Marriott via the back roads to avoid the Strip...long and loud bolts of lightening mottling the sky.

Vega...wow...it's still hot. pt 2

(Part two)

So in spite of being violated, spilled-on (a woman dropped her latte' in the terminal and it ran down the back of my leg) and wedged in a teeny seat, the flight was on-time and underwhelming. I ended up making small talk with the woman next to me. (Nursing doctorate that works at Mayo in the pediatric ward, attending a convention at the Hilton. For five days. My idea of hell, but that's just my opinion...man) I gave her some show ideas that I'd enjoyed in the past (gently advising against "Thunder from Down Under"), talked business "self-help" books (She was reading "Who moved my Cheese" and I said that- for my money- "Gung Ho" was both satisfying and helpful without being too cloying)

I did get up to make potty once on the trip. I didn't really have to go, mind you, but I was itching to see what was in that envelope that had (clearly) been stashed since 2006 or so. So locked in the Delta flight 1517 toilet I ended up making the "discovered cash in a pocket" discovery of the year. I rarely get to brag, and am frequently poor- having just spent $450 on my car before I left...and while it wasn't close to that, it gave me enough folding money to cover meals on my own, and even a show/craps table if I wanted to play. I closed my eyes and thought a very sincere "thanks, dad" before returning to my seat.

When we landed, we hit a 'Bucks for some wake-up juice and both were lamenting that we were both sweating balls. Big-time. I had spent the first hour of the flight leaning forward in my seat while back-swass ran down and pinching open my shirt front to let the cabin fan do some work. We booked it to our rental place where we waited in line for nearly an hour- joking with other patrons, making fun of the Vegas Plastic Surgery commercial on the TV hawking ass implants ("Sometimes...you want to take the wallet OUT of the jeans and set it on top...") We then hurriedly sent to the garage...where we proceeded to wait. Some more. ("There's the GD Hyundai right there. Right. There. What exactly are we waiting for?" Please note, we both were getting more and more surly the more we had to wait. It was nearing 1pm and neither of us had eaten anything since before 7am) Sure enough, after group upon group had been given their chariots, someone finally looked at our receipt and was all like "Ohhhh. That silver Hyundai over there is yours!" No. F#cking. Shit. Vegas, you were winning at this point. I admit.

We ended up getting lost (her GPS on her phone sent us in the opposite direction of our office. This did, however, get me re-acclimated with the streets again. Nothing says helping your "internal GPS" like getting lost in a town and being forced to find the right way again. Did I mention I was playing Maverick to her Goose because, and I quote: "My husband thinks it's a good idea if you drive. I'd get way too mad. At everyone"

We finally found our office. We finally found the restaurant. The weather was cooling off from the high-80's (when we left home, it was 50 degrees at the airport) and...wait. Why does it smell rainy?

Kaboom. You know in Minnie when we have a thunder boomie storm? Sure it'll like up the sky. Sure it'll wake you up sometimes when it's right over head. In Vegas? It's like you stare right into a camera flash while someone hits a pair of cymbals behind your head...and then? It rains.

A lot. And the rain has no where to go. In Minnie, we freak out a lot when underpasses are submerged. We saw pics of NE Minneapolis and Uptown where cars were submerged up to their wheel wells and thought "Whoa!" And if you've been here, or heard stories about Vegas rainstorms then you know they're rare and only last for a few minutes. Well here now, at 6pm Pacific time...it's dumping rain. And driving in it? Peeps, there are NO streets that AREN'T submerged. At one point we both looked around for parking lots that might be on a hill. I even started frassin' about my brakes.

Eventually, we made it to Albertsons (think "Kowalskis"). And I procured hairspray. We're nearing civilization, now. And it's here I should mention that, in going through my packing I packed more running/gym clothes than I did work clothes.

VEGAS BABY!!! Zzzzzzzz (pt 1)

(Author's note: The good managers at my office determined that my co-worker and I should visit our Las Vegas headquarters for a company kick-off/HOO-rah party. Since being hired, it'd been intimated that there may be some offsite travel- however as we fleshed out the capacities of our position we both realized that any reason for us to visit Vegas didn't seem to make a lot of sense. (We kinda stay in our own world here.) Then, a month ago, our friendly COO came over to describe an upcoming deal that we should "definitely be in Vegas to check out". Swell. After a few conference calls with our manager, her visiting our MN office for a week, we were sent an itinerary and flight confirmation. Vegas, it would seem, would once again be patronized by yours truly...my first trip back since late 2007 or so...

Thing is, would it be fun for a business trip?)

Soooo...I usually overpack, is my first problem. Scratch that. My first problem is that I usually have a problem asking for a ride to the LRT until the last minute. (Knowing my roommate seems to genuinely like to help out in that respect.) No, in having conversations with my co-worker- I realized that since this is an actual business trip that would last (technically) 2 days- I had no business bringing a duffel bag or the oversized "dead-hooker deluxe" model. I challenged myself to see about cramming my crap into a small suitcase, and playing business-traveler like a grown up. Which turned out to be fortuitous, since I'd returned all oversized luggage to their rightful owners (family) and the only thing I had left was an overhead bag.

My co-worker asked me if I wanted to watch any movies on the flight, which I mistook for in-flight movies and made to condescendingly correct her that we didn't have that- to which she condescendingly responded we'd watch it on her Ipad. I told her I was fine with a book- which only harbored a stare...which was lifted upon my response "Um. A movie'd be great. What did you have in mind?" We settled on "Transformers 3", and said our weekend good-byes.

Insomnia kept me awake most of the night after 3am, along with nightmares about crashing into the ocean...many of these were assuaged only by the fact that we wouldn't actually be flying over the ocean. (I blame the Chinese take-out before bed and the movie "Con-Air"...which was on TBS that afternoon) When I finally got up to do my pre-luggage check (the 4th of such "checks") I realized that I actually had less time to get ready and go then I had originally thought- knowing the LRT would take at least 35 minutes to get from downtown to MSP int'l. My roommate, the acme of calm (that morning, anyway) told me he'd rather take me to the gate anyway. Score. So we beat ass to get there and I still wound up with less than two hours to kill.

My panic resurfaced when I realized that in spite of having the under-sized package (snerk), it still didn't seem to fit in those measure-box deals that tell you if it's cool for the overhead compartments. I sat on it. Looked around plaintively until a friendly airport employee told me if I could move some stuff from the front pockets into the main compartment, I'd be sound as a pound. Except, as I knelt in front of her while she rustled up my boarding pass, those compartments contained all of my underwear. So, there I was...bleary eyed, and surrounded by Hanes like some crop-circle consisting of my balled-up unmentionables.

I was busy re-arranging everything when she caught sight of a bottle of hairspray next to my leg, also to go in the box. "You can't bring that, hon." (Mind, my hair is still wet...pretty long for my standards, and pasted to my head with the grace of God. I had planned on my last-minute gussying in the terminal bathroom) "Oh. Why is that?" "It's a big bottle. It exceeds the limit on liquids you can carry on". Great. Not even through the x-ray and I'm already a flight risk named "Pantene Pro-Hold". So...I chuck it. She smiled and told me that Vegas has drug stores I could patronize. ("Really? Just like MN? That is sooooo weird!")

So I do the obligatory shoe-shucking and toss my stuff in my pockets in the X-ray bins. They ask me 4 times (Yes) if there is ANYthing in my pockets to which I respond in the negative. And then...I enter the thing. I hope the beaming process is painless and where ever I land is a class "M" Planet. No dice. I stand there with my feet apart and my hands over my head like I'm about to perform the kata Kil-Sim (eh? Eh? Karate reference? Anyone?) and it's done. I exit the booth. Annnnnd...

Minor pandemonium. I'm told to turn around and face the read-out machine which shows a vague, blobby outline which (I guess) is me (Did I gain weight? Jesus) and has a glowing red-spot on my leg that looks like the kind of graphic you'd see on an anti-itch commercial. I'm asked another 3 times (yes) if I had anything in my pockets because the MACHINE showed I DEFINITELY HAD SOMETHING IN MY POCKET!!! And that's when the guy walked over to me with the nitrile gloves and a smirk. Folks. I got the frisk. And it wasn't even as exciting as I thought. And the fucker didn't even acknowledge that there was still. Nothing. In. My. Pocket.

Right. (Note- There have been peoples, stories, of those wrongly imprisoned, taken off of their flight, held under interrogation for hours without explanation- all because they tripped the profile. And I think it's horrible and wrong and makes my experience look like a handshake at vespers. I just want you to know, that if they fuck it up with a cherry like me? Well...you've been warned.)

So I'm digging through the suitcase to retrieve keys, wallet, gum, et.al. when I see a green envelope that says "Mikey. Merry X-Mas. Love, Mom and Dad." (Swallows hard. Folds it. And keeps it in his pocket...and it still feels thick. Oh...btw...think about that one if you're wondering how long it's been since I last used that suitcase.)

I manage to grab a Starbucks, grab a Men's Health magazine, and chill for the next 90 minutes until my co-worker shows up...only to discover that we weren't even sitting next to each other. No movies for buddies. More over, I'm in the center seat...on an over booked flight. And stuck for 3.5 hours with nothing but my magazine, the Sky Mall Catalogue, and "The Help"...So far, this trip wasn't too peachy.

DVD Reviews: Altered Scans

As I did last year, for the month of October, I'll be focusing on watching movies from the Horror/Thriller/"Skeery Movie" genre. Sure, there'll be other kerflufflins but I've some lofty goals. For example, I'll be checking out some of the Hammer Horror cannon and also re-visiting some of the dreck from my youth. Namely, the complete "Nightmare on Elm Street" and "Friday the 13th" series from beginning to end (No remakes/reimaginings) to see how they hold up and compare between my 13 year old eyes- when I was neck-deep in horror movies-and my jaded thirty (mumble) something something year old eyes. Pip. Growl. Howl. To start, however, let's take a trip to 1980...

We were on the cusp of the great invention of the "serial" horror films ala' "Friday the 13th". The world wasn't really digging the "slasher" genre (meaning it wasn't as popular as it was these days) As such, the films trying to be scary movies typically more "artsy", and less a pulpit to showcase the talent of a makeup artist or FX team (Popularized in the 80's after Rick Baker won a damn Oscar for "American Werewolf in London". Dick Smith had made a name for himself doing make-up jobbies on "The Godfather" and "Taxi Driver", and it's interesting to note that the films I'll be discussing today both have his stamp on them. Another interesting note, is this is also around the time when you started taking notice of the "genre director" (Carpenter, Cronenberg, Craven, etc.).



Altered States


Director Ken Russell was already famous for his B-Movie/Sexploitation flicks , so this "mainstream" film can be seen as somewhat of a departure for him. Especially since it was nominated for a couple of Academy Awards.

Brilliant Psychologist/Professor (William Hurt) floats in a tank, takes drugs, and devolves into a monkey-man (first) then the Michelin Man (I think...) then a hot tub (last) while his wife and co-worker (The accompanist from "Guffman") watch in horror. Hijinks ensue.

It's a solid films that is just the right amount of weird. It straddles the line of "is it all in his head" or "is he really turning primative"? And the decline in his sanity, and how it affects his relationships is played straight- which I felt helped keep the film afloat for what otherwise would be an incredibly stupid and boring premise. (A product of the time, it deals with sensory deprivation...hallucinogens to assist finding the "true self" etc. All you need is a crystal, chanting, a hemp blouse with friends and you're in therapy. I mean this, it a guy floating in a tank. This should not be eerie or scary.) The special effects are great, the visuals are trippy, and it uses thoughtfulness in lieu of jump scares or a terrifying antagonist. My one gripe is a doctor who almost always shouts his lines. "I WILL NOT CONDONE THESE EXPERIMENTS!"/ "YOU DID NOT TURN INTO A MONKEY!!!" You know.

3.5/5

Scanners

Ugh. Considered Cronenberg's mainstream "break through" piece which led to his directing future mindf#ck/bodyf#ck films like "Videodrome" and "The Fly". I only knew the plot, the fantastic box art, and that a guys head essplodes. Great fun!

Some no name homeless dude discovers he has some of the strongest psychic powers (telekinesis, telepathy, pyrokinesis et.al) and is one of many who have the same abilities called "Scanners". He and his ilk are being hunted by that dude who seems angry in most movies he'd done like "Total Recall" and "Highlander II" and it's only a matter of time before the eventual showdown. Hijinks ensue.

Slow. That's how my roommate described it, and I have to agree. The biggest gripe I have is the same dang problem I have with almost all films that deal with "mind" powers- The actor looks constipated, shake their head a lot, touch their temple occasionally, bug their eyes out, and something happens. It just looks kind of goofy. (And anyone who watched Matt Parkman on "Heroes" knows what I'm talking about) Now, there are some interesting elements in the story (pregnant women took an experimental drug which caused the Scanners to begin with, a Doctor who helps train the lead to "scan", and a brief plot twist at the end. And of course...the aforementioned head explosion.) But invariably it plods along, using lead actors who are about as charismatic as cotton balls. Probably not worth the time to even rent unless you're into the SFX.

I was bored.

1.5/5

Autumnal Harvest

I was right...

It has been a s#itty growing season. To be fair, there are probably a lot of factors involved and the fact is that since starting the garden we've had a couple of wimby-wimby harvests. Still, I've been as diligent as I can be and so far it's been a mild disappointment. Not huge. Just the"Awwww. Shoot" kind.

In the interest of focusing on the positive, the cherry heirlooms have been a steady source of produce and support, and the herbs have consistently stayed fruitful. We've had a few heirlooms come out (however there are still about 20 or so on the vine that are still GREEN!) I think the squash is almost ready, but outside of a few gardening websites I researched, I can't be sure if they're good to go. The jalapenos and zukes finally produced, and one (pictured below) made it's way into a nice grilled mess, but the 2nd (and last one I had) I dropped on the ground on my way out to the car and BOOM it exploded. (Not, like, "broken and bruised"...it flat out exploded) On another positive note, the flowers in the front planter have remained bright and thick. I may stick with them again next year after the initial tulip burst dies out.


I'm hoping to have some more pictures and produce as the season changes, but I'm thinking that I'm going to write off 2011 as a "bad growing season". Moda picked up some special grass to plant once the garden is torn up, and with the roommate diligently turning the composter I think we'll have a nice fertile area to play with in 2012. Fingers crossed that we don't get gobsmacked with snow so we can get the leaf covering down. Bon Appetit...



Inexplicable. I've barely watered these and they were nigh on overrun with weeds until I took care of business. And they done blown up!


I'll let you pretend that that doesn't look delicious. With goat cheese, a little balsamic vinegar and basil? Yum.

Broccoli, heirlooms/cherry heirlooms, and the zuke.

JALAPENOS!!! I gave one to my co-worker, and so she can make "an" popper. (I'm betting these guys'll be hot. The banana peppers have face-melting properties...)

Two Fairs, back to back= Insanity

What...what the natural heck was I thinking? I'm really not into masochistic acts perpetrated on my self, so in what parallel world did the "Evil" Mikey think hitting two crowded ass MN past times over Labor Day weekend was a good idea? I just hope that twin has a Van Dyke mustache, leers a lot, and is thinner. Probably huffs spray paint.

Annnnyway. This is what happens when you wait until the closing end of the State Fair, I guess. Well, that and the fact that my #1 companion Momo doesn't like to Gogo to the Fair and has been eyes deep in Tech/Rehearsal. #2 companion (Mom) wasn't too interested. And a few of my other buddies w/o day jobs had already gone during the weekdays leaving me, and my ridiculous need to get my annual mega-crowd fix on. (And really, I start to really yearn for the deep-fried turkey sammich by June...and since the dumb thing is now at the Twins Stadium I can get that craving out of the way any old time. What I'm saying is, my reasons for actually fighting the unwashed masses diminished significantly...And also...finding out you can get most Fair Food pretty much year round. Which I knew. But still...)

I put the call out on FB for a Fair Date, and had a few nibbles but was prepared to retire the notion of tandem/group Fair visits and see how I'd do flying solo. And when mentioning it the night before, my roommate started grilling me as to the "what time I was leaving" etc. before asking if it was okay if he tagged along. And I said "Okay".

And for folks who know the Bean, and his peccadilloes regarding crowds of more than 4-5 people? Please know that this is pretty amazing.


Pictured. Apparently the 3rd most crowded/highest attended Fair day. Also, see those deep fried pickles? Longest damn line, ever.


Of course I did the smart thing and rousted my ass up for a nice 7 mile trot before we left to get the metabolism moving in preparation, and then Bean and I found the closest park and ride to our house & began our adventure. Sufficed to say...we had a really nice time. He was a capable companion, nimbly navigating the crowds and "keeping up" with Mikey Longshanks. He didn't judge me for wanting a 10am beer with my Pronto Pup. We picked opportune times to find shady areas to rest/get away from the crowds. We shared all sharable dishes. Took pictures when asked. Let me make juvenile dick jokes when we visited the poultry barn. And was trying to be helpful in finding the Surly Booth, even though we couldn't find it. All told, we managed to stay for nearly 4-5 hours before hitting a wall and skiddadling.

Unfortunately, my camera died before I could document a lions share of the insanity that was milling about Falcon Heights that day (Or the dishes we enjoyed.) So I hope the list and these few will give you a taste...a taste of that dirty, dirty Fair. See you next year.

We et/drunk:
Pronto Pup, Elk Burger, Deep Fried Turkey Sammich, New Zealand King Potatoes, Deep Fried Crab Fritters (New, and a winner), 2 Nordeasters, and a Summit. Urp.

Not often you find an adult with the Fraggle Hair. Pictured with 10am beer. And easily-identifiable bandana of strength.

Bean found a quiet corner to recharge in Heritage Square. Mom told me it looks like he's having a time out. Which to be fair, he kinda is.

Camera p#ssed out before I could get a ton of the obnoxious novelty t-shirts. And what better statement at an event that revels in Bacchanalian amounts of excess...

The MN Renaissance Festival... (Monday, September 5th)
Hoping to capitalize on her brief days off during tech, I was able to corral Companion #1 for a Labor Day Renaissance Festival Jaunt. (FYI- Sign up for Groupon/Star Tribune Steals...etc. We snagged a sweet discount on two-fer tickets. Very cost effective)

Hipster T-Shirts never say die...


The metabolism revver wound up being our hauling our buns up and early for a festive jaunt to the Victory 10K to support D-Gangs and FeeJ, before cleaning up and heading to Shack-of-Pee...and eagerly anticipated 16th Century Shenanigans. While the Belly-Dancing weekend isn't my tip-top fave (and my partiality to the cooler late-Autumn weather) we managed to get a beautiful sunny day...and Mo full of mischief. ("If they're going to heckle me? I'll see their heckle and raise!") Said mischief wasn't too bad, and was usually relegated to finding people who made good photo-ops, and my standing next to them as she pretended to take my picture while covertly snapping them.

We were joined by Davey and KT, and had another really wonderful day. (And we stayed 3 x's the amount of time we were out there last year!) We ended up running into a gaggle of friends who decided that Monday was also their day of Renning- And later on left tired, with sore and dirty feet... full, and happy that we all took turns petting a python. (No Jon Voight's were harmed during the day, I hear)

The end of day nibble tally: Chindian food (Curry chicken and Veggie Samosas), shared Turkey leg, Chicken Wild Rice Soup in a bread bowl, Apple pie ala mode, Sweet Potato Fries, Egyptian/Raspberry Mead...and many, many beers. (Not Root Beer. "What?!? Are you on your PERIOD!?!?" That's my girl.) Anyway, if you need me I'll be in the corner popping Prilosec with a Pepto chaser...

I have now entered the pantheon of d-bags who make stupid jokes regarding their biceps around signs that say "Blah de blah bans guns on the premises." I make no apologies. We were having fun.

Meal #1- Veggie Samosas (a little dry and lacking veggies), Curry chicken (delightful), Schell's Oktoberfest and a Guiness. What did you think we were having for breakfast?

Honestly...I don't know why this was an important picture. I just thought Mo asking me to pose by it and "look serious" to be hilarious.

Oh...what? Look similar to the one I snapped at the State Fair? And they are evvvverywhere at Fest.

Pictured: Microencephalitic finally finds a hat that makes my head look normal, albeit mildly double-chinned. And it sorted me into "Sandwichdor" or "Gryffinbeer" or some stuff.

Here's the thing...coming in costume is encouraged. KT told me that when she was working out there people wouldn't just try and keep it within the time period...but that people would show up dressed as Darth Vader...a Storm Trooper. (My roommate told me that, long ago, he went in drag as a Geisha. Don't ask, because I didn't) And hey, more power to them. This guy? We called him "Sir Menards from Pressed Tinsville"...based solely on the location of where he acquired his materials. I know, right? It's 85 degrees, btw...and I was swassing like mad.

Aren't we fun? We hug. We love. We huzzah. And we-meaning the royal "me"- still stands by my (appropriated) opinion that Mead tastes like a drunken-diabetics p#ss...no matter if it's iced or not.

DVD Mini-reviews!!!

***Mini-Reviews! I've had a chance to clean up my queue and digest a few titles I've been wanting to check out for a while now. All are available on Netflix and probably in the "previously viewed" DVD bin at your closing DVD Rental Store. Which is probably a good chance to stock up on previously viewed DVD p0rn and not have to venture into an adult bookstore or feel skeevy that the employee's will recognize you with your copy of "The Boobyguard" sandwiched between "Legally Blonde" and "National Treasure"...heh. Anyway, I'll put my "recommends" first and the shut-offs last.


Where the Truth Lies

A solid thriller with Mr. Darcy and the Bacon. Nothing challenging, but if you're in the mood for a solid murder-mystery (with a metric ton of nudity) then this'll be your game. 4/5

High Plains Drifter

Yeah. The old-timey western that Clint the Squint directed. What really elevated this one is the supernatural bent. (ICYC, it's the one where he has the townies paint the town literally red.) Is he or isn't he an avenging angel, demon, whatever. Really, this along with "Josey Wales" are two excellent genre films and would make for a great double/triple feature with "Unforgiven". 4.5/5

Never Let Me Go

I wanted to see what all the fuss was about this "elevated" Oscar Nominated sci-fi movie. And boy, is it pretty with a killer hook. (Kids are cloned and grow up until they reach a certain age when they turn into donors. Think "Logan's Run" meets "The Island" with less bullshit and more Ang Lee thoughtfulness) And it is pretty. And deep. And ultimately kind of really depressing. So much like I like ridiculous comedies, I don't like bleak. 3.5/5

Reno 911: Miami

Another stupid comedy that's my kind of funny. I'd caught a few episodes back when I had Comedy Central and "got" the funny "Cops" style mockumentary filming. And really, you don't need a lot of backstory to understand this one. That said, I know that this and stuff like "The State" aren't for everyone- and that's cool. I ended up laughing my ass off a few times, but I also am a fan of ridiculous. 3.5/5

SKIP THESE...I took a BULLET for you, people!!!

Cedar Rapids

I liked the cast. I like the foxy flight attendant. (Hi, Tracy!) But again, it was a bunch of ideas strung together from better films. Here's the bottom line- The Midwesterner being treated like a dipshit flipper baby is tired. John C. Reilly doing a Will Ferrell impression is a little old. A decent bit about crashing a gay-marriage party and a meta-joke about "The Wire" by a former "Wire" cast member ultimately wasn't enough to make this memorable or a keeper.

Alexander: Directors Cut

I wanted sword/sandals/spectacle. I wanted to know if it was either as bad as folks thought, or a masterpiece. (Which someone said it was decent) It was crap. When a mid-film sex scene fails to tittilate and becomes the exact moment I shut it off, should tell you something. Epic fail, for an epic movie.

The Adjustment Bureau

Boo. Crap. Nothing to see here. Charming characters? Okay. A dippy premise? Check. (C'MON! They have HATS...that help them go from place to place quickly. Someone typed that and thought it'd be a great plot device.) I won't violently denounce this, but it was so "meh" it feels like I wasted a night watching it.

Super

I'd love to find the article that talks about audiences getting bored putting Super-Heros in "real-world" settings. I may have made the error of having watched "Kick-Ass" the week before. (A better, fun ,bloody, goofy romp.) I ended up shutting this off as well. Juno being Juno, Bacon being smarmy (Which, again, see "Where the Truth Lies" for a better film. Or "X-Men: First Class"), and Dwight Schrute making the same Dwight Schrute faces just bored me.

'Merika! F#ck YEAH!

Pictured: "Marvel Secret Wars Captain America Action Figure". I owned this and a slew of others... which ruled. Strange enough, every figure- good guy...bad guy...all came with a shield with a weirdo image card in it. Cap's was the only one that made sense. Incidentally, I'da killed to have the Ice-Man figure. He was a variant offered in the Fleet Farm catalogue. He was, like, the "Mer-Man" figure of that toy line back in 1985.


I want you to use your imaginations. Imagine a little blonde curly-headed little kid who was heavily influenced by imagination and the stack of comic books he always read at the cabin. (You know...instead of being outside) A kid who did his best to make believe he was whichever super-hero was ingrained in his brain on any particular day. His costumes were usually his Underoos worn over a pair of his mother's old unitards- with the occasional red ski mask or towel-cape being used to complete the ensemble. We all know that he spent a majority of the time as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man (and still coughcough does...sometimes) But he did his due imaginary diligence and tried being every superhero. At least the one's he had underpants for.

One prop he used had multiple purposes, and it was a plastic-y garbage can lid. Originally he used it to play "Perseus" from "Clash Of The Titans" wielding it (along with a stick or fishing pole as a sword) against Kraken's (Willow tree) and Gorgon (swingset) alike. Another use for that shield was when he found his attention zig-zagging toward a cabin comic that told the story of Steve Rogers. A sickly young man who (through SCIENCE) becomes "Captain America"! Kicking Nazi ass left and right before gettin' frozen, thawing out in the present day to lead the Avengers. Around that time Marvel, bless'em, was reeeeeally trying to cash in on their properties based on the success of "Superman" (and to a smaller extent, "The Incredible Hulk" TV series) but rather than release them as major motion pictures they all stayed on the small screen. And so while my favorite hero ended up being played by the kid who was "Rolf" in "The Sound of Music"? The good captain? Was Reb Brown. In a pervy conversion van. And a motorcycle.

Still...I put on my Captain America Underoos. We had an old plastic football helmet with the the cage removed that my mom and I painted it blue and added wings on the sides. I had a blue felt mask with an "A" sewn in the middle. And I'd take that garbage can lid, wedge it between the handle bars of my Big Wheel, and tear ass around the cul-de-sac...dismounting occasionally to take off my "shield" and fling it frisbee style at my imaginary opponents while humming the "Captain America TV Movie" themse song. (And that shield was about as graceful as you'd think a plastic garbage can lid could be. Occasionally it'd catch some air and bang into the aluminum siding on our house, prompting my mom to yell)

And then I zig-zagged on to another hero. Maybe it was "The Flash"...or maybe "Green Lantern". Either way, I think I got busted by dad for walking around outside in my underwear. In December.

Here's the thing..."Captain America" is a hard property to produce. Evidenced by terrible TV movies and the 1994 turd (to be fair, at least that one tried to get the costume right) He carries a SHIELD for pete's sake. The character isn't hugely compelling. They tried making him cooler when the "Ultimate" universe imbued him with an interesting arc and a better "look" (No more lil' wings on his mask) but he's not all that edgy. Not really hip. Regardless...most geeks just want the films to be as close to their beloved properties as the one done on paper.

I mean, you can't just throw a red cape on Betty White with a $20 million budget and have it say "BATMAN" on the title card. (Wait...write that down) And coming off the heels of some surprisingly popular and well done movies, how was this guy gonna fare on the big-screen? Here's Marvel Comics version of a big-blue boy scout. Which brings us to the short review, free of spoilers even:

During WW II, 90 lb weakling Steve Rogers is given secret super sauce to become the worlds first Super Hero Super Soldier. He fights Nazi's, Over-Exfoliated Bad Guys, and Sheriff Ed Bell's Grouchiness. Hijinks ensue.

And here's where I'll leave it. IMO, they got the movie really, really right. And this might seem blasphemous, but I'd even go so far to say that...next to "The Dark Knight"? It's probably one of the best super hero genre movie to date. I left the theater with a big stupid grin on my face. I loved every frame. I loved the geeky nods that weren't distracting, hamfisted, or overt. I loved how (like the Hammer in "Thor" earlier this year) the SHIELD wasn't distracting or stupid looking. I loved the MUSICAL NUMBER! (Take note, "Spider-Man 3")

I loved the knowledge that this is going to be another part of what's going to be an ambitious film next year. (And pleasepleaseplease be good)

Mostly, and maybe I'm being too rosy with this- I can appreciate that it had a lot of heart. And my buddy Eva was right...there were definitely places that you get choked up. Do yourself a favor and check it out.

5/5 stars Highly Recommended

Fringe Accomplished

Yowza. I needed a few days to recuperate from the Fringe but I'm hoping to get back to status quo for your reading pleasure- covering such topical and important issues like running, gardening, auditioning, and how majorcaly depressing the end of summer/beginning of Fall feels*. First up:

We closed out "Knit" after a successful Fringe run. It was well attended, well-received by the audiences, and it was a real pleasure to perform and sad to see it over. (How often can I say that after my previous post discussing rotten experiences?) For me personally, it was kinda nice to play a guy who was closer to the chest than most "characters". I dunno. Takes the guess work out during rehearsal. And it was nice to work with some really talented people. Are you sad you missed it? GOOOOOOOOD!!! (I kid. Kinda.)

Par for the course, I did not get out and abuse my artist pass and set a record as to the number of shows I was able to take in. I maxed out at about 5-6 shows and I'm fairly happy to report that they were all consistent in terms of quality and my personal enjoyment. (Oh...there was some...not-so-greatness...but it's a palate cleaner. And my own fault for checking it out without doing homework. Whatever. Live a little and be adventuresome, right?)

Personal Fringe highlights...beside seeing buddies: Mid-towns inventive Fringe Cocktail tasting, the MotoI kerfluffle (Apparently some people had a bad experience, and that steamrolled car of teh interweb in to a full blown flame off. The night in question we did a quick scan of the patio and thinking the crowd was prohibting movement? Promptly said "F#ck this" and hit Herk's next store) And enjoying the crap-read spending too much- at the neighboring restaurant situated next to our performance venue. Where you should all...go.

So yeah. Happy to have been involved again after a few years. Happy to have had my Fringe experience. Happy as hell I can breathe now that it's over.

Next up: S.O Birthdays, Sad tomatoes and non-existent Zukes (WHAT?), a new Trail half-mary I recently discovered, and...your favorite: Movie Reviews. (Papa hasn't even SEEN Captain America yet...)

And the Fair. Hellllllls yes.




*Anyway, the subject of Summer's End is touched on in our dialogue during the show...about how the 4th of July is the "true" turning point and it's all down hill from there. Not so. Granted, mid-way through the Fringe we (thankfully) hit a cooling respite so it wasn't all swass and frass. Still. I woke up this morning. August 17th. And the morning felt kinda...chilly? Grump.

YEEEEAH FRINGE!!!

Pictured: Detail from the 2011 MN Fringe Festival Show I'm currently involved in: "Knit One, Purl the Other". An extremely hilarious and entertaining mock-trailer can be seen here. I WANT you to go see it!


Giggity Giggity Giggity...it's that time of year, friends! Tomorrow is the beginning of the 2011 MN Fringe Festival. It's like the State Fair...for theater folk. Only with less deep-fry and more 4-H Talent shows. Whether you love it or hate it, if you're in it in some capacity you're bound to get feeling like a frisky kitten. For me, rehearsal has felt like any other rehearsal until we hit tech yesterday at TRP- and when it was over and I was leaving? Boom. Fringe-bomb. (And trust me...I love theater. I love my friends. But there are quite a few folk out there in Facebookville who have Fringe-bombs going off...verrrrrry early. Hence, someone disabled their event notification starting in mid-July. Ahem...)

This'll mark my (hummuna hummuna hummuna) 4th Fringe appearance? 5th? I first started seeing Fringe shows waaay back in '98 when an old girlfriend I was chasing was performing in a 2-woman show at the old Loring theater. Not having had a lot of knowledge of what the hell the Fringe was, and moreover not really "whelmed" by that show, I was ready to write it off and go back to drinking the summer away in solitude when on a whim I decided to check out the one-woman show that followed it. (Two-woman show to One-woman show. I was downsizing?) The production was about the life an Irish woman and her descendants through three generations. It was called "Slap". And it was terrifyingly good. (Which should be a testament. I can barely remember the "okay" Fringe shows I've seen, much less the terrible one's I try to strike from memory. Granted the last 12 years of Fringe has been usually accompanied with copious amounts of booze between and sometimes during shows)

I ended up checking out a few more shows that summer including a romantic mind-f#ck that another buddy was in as well as a dance piece that was narrated by a poem called "Go Ahead Cling to me Dear". (Which, as a non-fan of the genre I enjoyed immensely) Those awesome shows, coupled with seeing theater-buddies schlepping around and the camraderie, the feeling of being an actual community versus competing theaters jockeying for audiences, the waiting outside in lines with your Fringe schedule accruing liters of swass in the hot early-August air? Well I left the festival of 1998 thinking that this is something I want to be involved with. And sure as sure can be in 1999 I found myself experiencing my first Fringe show. And my first experience with a shitty Fringe show.

Which happened to be the same show.

For those new readers who haven't heard this tale. (Back when the only way you could get any sort of "word of mouth" on the quality of a Fringe show was by waiting for the local rags to write something you could read about the next day. Or people walking out of a show saying "Suck. It suuuuucked" etc.) I was in a production called "Swing Time Radio" which---to date---received my faaaaavorite review ever: (Minor paraphrasing) "Some shows miss the mark. Others miss the target entirely. 'Radio' puts on a terrible 40's radio show by a group of non-actors that is difficult to sit through. Non-Hammy efforts and sweet accapella singing of 40's standards by (Actor I agreed to do the show for), (Actor I had a crush on and coerced into being in the show), and (Yours truly) fail to save this production. This show is painful to watch."

Yeeeeeah. Like my old man said: "At least they spelled your name right"

Now most folks might be traumatized by that experience. Not me. With the exception of 2001 I've kept coming back. And while as an audience member, I'm not as voracious with my attendance as some of my more dedicated Fringe-Friends (I think seeing 9 shows last year...that I paid for? Was a record.) I can still say I've seen some engaging and memorable productions. (And some turds. There are many) As a Fringe performer I've been afforded the opportunity to work with some talented casts and crews- many of whom I'm still happy to be friends with. As an actor I've been able to be a 40's radio singer, a re-enactor of the short films from the Prelinger archives, a ninja, a reality show contestant who strips down to a banana-hammock, and now- and this is crazy- a normal guy who acts as a sounding board in a very sweet alternate-reality play that revolves around knitting. And I don't knit. In the show. (To be honest, this is probably the most linnear narrative in a Fringe show that I've either seen or been involved in, as well as the most normal character I've played. Am playing. Whatever. I wear khaki's)

So, by way of pleading like we all plead- I'm very pleased with this show. The cast is solid and if you're looking for something you can bank on? I feel I would very much like to see you in the audience at Theater in the Round for "Knit One, Purl the Other". And if I don't? I would very much like to see you milling around the various venues and would very much like you to give a fellow Fringer a sweaty hug.

One less way to reach me...

pictured: A soon to be excised relic from Mikey's house. Please note...I don't actually have that as the style of phone. I actually use pigeons. And smoke signals.

Does anyone else still have a land mine..?(Sorry. Land LINE) I confess that I do. In fact, for the last 10 years or so I've been juggling my cell and home phone...I mean, that thing has lasted me 4 different residences at least. And I've loved it. It's nice to be able to fill out MORE spots on applications when it asks you the simple questions: Home phone? Cell phone? Why of COURSE I'll fill you in. Natch. I'm available alllll over.

Except I'm not very wealthy. And in going down the long list of s#it that I can probably live without? In terms of personal cost savings? I'm thinking the old cordless phone needs to go buh-bye. To be honest, the only reason I kept it for this long is laziness. Truth. (of COURSE) I disguise it as nostalgia/whimsy but let's be real...I'm never going to own a novelty Felix the Cat phone. And truth time- It's how the water company can "dial in" and get my monthly H2O readings and I don't have to risk getting grossed out by wading through the dust bunnies and cobwebs in my basement behind the dryer...just to do a meter-reading.

So now I'll have the one phone...my shellular. And even cutting that one cost will probably incur another (my phone is a hand-me-down as it is...and a flip phone...and, at the ripe age of 3 years old... considered pretty outdated- So if anyone has any cheap suggestions on something with texting/emailing capabilities, let me know. )

And if I'm filling out a survey/questionaire/audition form? I will NOT be writing anything in the space that says "Home Phone". Ha HA! (Sniffs sadly. Whatever. The battery kept cutting out on the cordless anyway)

Next up? Cutting the $10 that is my cable bill. Don't watch the telly. Only use the big screen for movies. And if there is a TV show I like? I'll Nutflix it.

Stay-De-Um!

Pictured: Section 310, Sunscreen, and mild -but not bad- vertigo

FINALLY!

Can I get an amen, please? I was starting to feel like the only person who hadn't been to the new Twins Stadium. F#ck, my best friend who is about as far from being a sports fan had been there. What is HAPPENING IN THE WORLD!?!?

Here's what's happening: I am not a gi-normous sports nut. (Which, I think, mildly alienates me from about 90% of conversations with most dudes.) I mean I like seeing professional sports at whatever venue it is, but I won't actively pursue purchasing season-tickets...dig? (Or- historically speaking when I was a kid- pester my parents for tickets) And yes, I'd go see Twins games as a kid, sure...mostly through Scouts or Safety Patrol...but it wasn't like I really gave a poop about the game. (I'm a 7th inning "leave"er) And when you go to those promo games, invariably I'd wind up by the jumbo-tron in the nosebleed seats. (With one notable exception in 1993 when a friend was hooked up with bullpen seats b/c she worked at the hotel the opposing team was staying at)

Oh, oh...and don't get me started on stadium building. I was of the mind that the Dome was perfectly fine in spite of friends arguing the opposite. I mean the acoustics sucked. Fine. Andthe sightlines were meh, and you'd get vertigo just trying to navigate the stairs. But c'mon...it was built in the early 80's! People liked multi-tool stadiums back then! It was like a Triple-Change Transformer! And remember when we HAD to get a stadium for our new basketball team back in 1990 it set in motion the bitchin' and complainin' from the other franchises (See why I'm jaded and resentful? Look how well the Wolve's have done! )

So that was it. Meh on sports. Fond memories of powering down stadium beers and Dome Dogs. And if you're a professional sports team, you better bring home some medals or some shit before you whine about needing a new place to play. Boom. Truth bomb.

Being a fan of new experiences and having heard the hubbub from pretty much EVERYbody, when afforded the opportunity to check out a game at the new stadium (Versus Detroit, which is ironic in the sense that I feel like every game I saw between age 10-16 at the Dome was usual the Tigers) I hopped on it. And here is where I salt and pepper the crow I'm about to eat, because the thing about the Twins Stadium? What's really, really cool about it? Is how much it gets right. Which in turns, makes those faults of the Dome that much more glaringly apparent.

See, the Dome makes it so you're sort of "herded" in to the big concrete muffin tin. And ya gotta circle and circle to and move and climb to just find your seat. Madness. But at the new stadium you get to walk across the plaza to enter the stadium and you are greeted with BASEBALL. Maybe it's the bronze sculptures all around. But to Simple Mike, it was apparent that you're about to experience a Major-League Baseball game...and it's going to be awesome. And that's when I understood. And I didn't get my Hebrew National like I normally do, but instead got a deep fried turkey sammich. And a $7 Summit. And I was sold on traversing the escalators to the upper levels. I was sold on "non-trough" bathrooms where you uncomfortably relieve yourself "cheek to cheek" with another guy. I might not run out to get a jersey, moreover I'm still reserving the right to be skeptical as to the Vikes getting a new place to squat- but I'll tell you...if you haven't?

You gotta check out a game.

I'll go with you.

I still need to get a Hot Dog.

And I still love Saints baseball...

B4/After

pictured: Screaming agony at mile 9. Empty water. Short-circuited MP3. And a GU packet sticking my tongue to the roof of my mouth...And who taught me how to put on a bandana?(6/2010)

Pictured: Banana-rexia and a better soundtrack (7/2011) Just keep runnin'...

rantrantrant...

Did you guys know that I work out? Little known fact. Try and eat light and healthy. Run. Karate. Lift weights. Take frequent cat-naps. All that shit. I'm also fairly well-read on those aforementioned subjects. Not surprisingly, I can confidently speak to the fact that I have a good frame of reference if one were to broach the topic of, ohhhhh, fad diets.

Now before you click away to TMZ or whatever, hear me out: I've frassed to you about supplements, stupid fitness rags and their tendency to regurgitate the same kind of article every other month wedged in with the newest trendy fitness routines. (Yoga! Pilates! Kickboxing! Tae-Bo! Tae 90X! Pil-boxing! Yoga Jumproping!) I'll frass about books I've read and either glommed some sort of benefit about or books that I don't think have a metric shit ton of merit.

Go on. Google search "stretching before running?" The links go on like a high school debate. ("Yes you should!" "No you shouldn't!" "You'll live!" "YOU'LL DIE!!!" For the record? And for fact? I don't think that stretching out before any exercise is a bad idea. At all. ) In fact, most diet advice that doesn't come from a professional tends to lean toward the stupid, contrary, muddled, and passionate- for all the wrong reasons. Best person to talk to about your health and fitness? A doctor. Unquestionably.

Recently a friend of mine visited a place where the newest fad diet program is offered (which is to say it's a new South Beach/Atkins knock-off) which tries to emulate our hunter gatherer meals from Captain Caveman-y times. I read over the haves and have nots and did some quick research...and while I "get" it and wanted to sound supportive? My Spider-Sense was still tingling. Basically you eat nothing BUT meat. No pasta. No Refined sugar. One "cheat" day...(I hate that term, btw. I've said it before, yeah. And I've used it as an excuse to eat like shit. I still hate it) And no fucking legumes? Hoooookay. I can see how this'd appeal to people looking for something to, you know, work. Somehow.

Now lest you think I'm ass-talking, I've seen people who have experienced success with Atkins et.al. The were admittedly overweight, and by kiboshing the carbs and (wait for it...) moderating their remaining portions they were able to get their bodies to go catabolic and burn off the solid fuel they'd been carrying. (Although, friends, before you attack that steak-a-week diet in earnest, keep in mind these friends experienced a marked decrease in energy. And after seeing a doctor for a mid-Atkins check up? A marked increase in cholesterol) And so whatever, what's my point? 70 years ago cigarettes were supposed to aid digestion and "relax the throat". What's the big deal with this one?

Well...

This friend tells me that the initial consultation/2 hour introductory meeting included a couple of wires being attached to them and getting a body comp analysis. Fine. Understanding that next to water immersion I think that the electric jolt is a fairly accurate method to get your body fat percentage. Except THIS test also gave a laundry list of horse shit. Something about their cell/electrolyte catalyst being pretty bad yadda yadda and being a good candidate for the program. Right. Next we'll try this phrenology machine that strongly resembles a collander pot to ascertain your aura balance.

One of the other "rules" of this "diet" was no running. This made me want my friend to question them on the idea that human beings evolved to be runners, or if they'd ever heard of the concept of "persistance running" which anthropologists have speculated might have been how our hunting-gathering ancestors tracked down faster prey? (To be fair, according to their program periodic 10 minute sprints were okay. I started to honestly wonder if this practically non-existent fitness routine that was meant to compliment the diet was designed by a 4th grader during track and field day. Next up! Monkey bars and vigorously run backwards up the slide until the teacher aides give you a time-out!) Looking around the room, my buddy said they saw other people who were at that two-hour informational meeting that had the look of those who want this diet to work for them. An excitable prospect if you find it difficult to balance out that delicate teeter-totter of diet and exercise. And easy...excitable...prospect. Nothing but meat.

This all ended in their sending a politely worded email a day later declining the program and the eventual response from the meat-counselor strongly advising they reconsider as their findings after that initial electro-shock were startling bad for someone as young as they were. In other words, they tried a fucking fear-tactic to keep them on. And that is what really chaps my hide the most.

Going back 15 odd years, I had a friend whose mom sold high-end supplements. They had an entire kitchen cabinet filled to bursting with these pricey bastards, and I learned later that if they didn't make their sales quota- they had to buy their own product. This, is what my father reffered to as a "pyramid scheme". And although I felt it polite not to mention that lil' nugget to my friend, she railed on me for not taking more supplements. I explained that I sometimes did take supplements, recommended after I met with the dietician at the "Y" who also turned me on to the idea that: "if you have a well rounded diet and balanced, you should be getting all of the vitamins you need". And then they recommended a book. My old friend responded to this with "Well? How do you KNOW you're getting them? You DON'T!"

Point taken. In the meantime, enjoy your rich and dark urine and overworked kidney's.

Again...

I don't think a good health and wellness program entails a drill sergeant ala' "The Biggest Loser". And I don't think that the fad diets/routines are strictly speaking helping their cause by trying to rule through fear. A good coach/trainer/training partner/running partner whatever will encourage you and push you to do better. Do more reps. Go heavier. Be a spotter. Encourage you run another mile and not walk. Point out areas where you're dropping your guard hand or opening your mouth before you go to kick. (I did that. FYI.)

Barring that, they'll drop their drawers and moon you if they start running ahead of you. (That's my boy, Davey.)

Look...I say to you all how much I love my Veeb's and minimalist kicks and how they've helped my running. Great. For me. Sorry. That's my selfish Sally Self. What I'm not going to say is that you're stupid for not wearing them. Or that you're guaranteeing yourself injury if you don't wear them. Or if you eat a meat-heavy diet you'll DIE*! I honestly believe that you build up a resistance in your audience if you lay down some finite be-all end-all rule that must be adhered to. How arrogant must you be to have such absolute conviction in your product? Redick. I was tempted to say to my friend "Do the paleo-program, but see your personal physician for a physical first. Blood draws. Pee test. The works. And after the 60 days, go back and see how you fare." (Meanwhile, the mean part of me will be enrolling in another marathon and enjoying my Little Caesar Hot N Ready pizza when they come over. I am nothing if not cruel.)

Stupid diet....

"What's Up?" /Ohhhh, not mulch"

If you don't mind, I think I'm going to be done with the outdoor projects in 2011 (with the exception of the garden, lawn mowing, and plotting what plants I might wanna throw down.)

Yup. I gave myself a deadline this weekend to get the rest of the outdoor frass finished. Last weekend I made my 4 trips to the Home Depot to collect the last of the 100 or so bags of cedar mulch (they had a sale) so that's down. The rain barrel had been sitting by the side of the house looking forlorn so THAT needed installed. The paver block to line the walk way wasn't going to install itself so I had to get THAT in the ground. (To be fair, it would've been done two weekends ago. Except since I couldn't seem to figure out how to remove the correct amount of dirt, so it ended up being a lawn-chunk by lawn-chunk process.)


And did I mention it was f#ck all hot out? Yeah. As I stood in the shower rinsing the black dirt off and picking wood fragments out of the corner of my eye, I wondered why I was there and not with my friends frolicking in the river. As my co-worker exclaimed: "Were you high? You should have gone to the river". Good answer.

I'll let the pics speak for themselves. If anyone knows of any good ground scrubby kind of the "come-back" kind of plants, or knows something about landscaping to make it look pretty...well I wouldn't be adverse to the assistance. In case you're curious, this was all done this weekend.("Before" pics can be found in the archives here and here.)

Now isn't that inviting? Clean? Doesn't that make you just wanna grill? Take that, creeping Charlie. Pictured: Toil. And for the uninformed, the Mazda can fit 12 bags of mulch. 16 if I'm not worried about visibility.

A row O' hostas is begging to be planted here, don't you think? This part of the house gets d#ck for sunlight.

This will, I'm hoping, keep the rain from getting in the basement. The nice thing about chunking out all of that soil is there was plenty of dirt for assistance with grading. I admit, I got panicky and I've been stalling the install as it were since part of it required my cutting away a portion of the downspout. During this phase, I discovered that stucco siding is really good at exfoliating the skin from your knuckles.

More soil for grading. I found some moisture in the wine cellar and the only time I've ever taken in water is when a downpour knocked off the drain spout last year. I'm reminded of my home-inspector years ago, when he advised keeping the soil high here on the South side of the house to keep the basement dry. Good advice, that. A good idea to follow it occasionally, Michael. (Incidentally. The dirt was sitting in a light plastic "garden" barrow. Overnight. And then it rained. Do you know what's heavy? Mud.)

Transplants, courtesy of the Mel's via Moda. That's all I have right now. I'm taking more. Anyone? Backyard is clean and mulch-y, but pretty nekkid.

Re-painted the picnic bench. Go on. Imagine eating some steaming weinies...baked beans...that crappy yellow potato salad and some lemonade. Ugh. I just threw up in my mouth. (*Note, by "painting" I mean I dumped the paint on it and pushed it around with a brush until it was even-looking. This was the final project of the day, and the heat/humidity had me a little addled)

Table courtesy of A and D. I scraped it, then re-painted with this nice textured spray. Doesn't this help you envision polite discourse over mojito's?

This was a completely unnecessary project on my part. I don't know. My herb pots used to live on the picnic table so I had this idea that I could build a small "herb table" to live next to the garden. I had some superfluous lumber and some really, really weak building skills. After a few hours with the cutting, the drilling, the cussing, the new fixes I discovered while building...we have a reeeeeally ghetto herb bench.

Hot banana pepper. I picked up some new (sturdier) tomato cages but I'm still a little chafed that my garden feels like it's taking forever to grow. (Coupled with the fact that Moda and Cap't Dawn's bounty already looks edible) This is what I get for expanding the dumb thing. See why this year? This year? Is the last time I expand the stupid thing.

Flaky and slow. Just like me! We ended up finding two scapes that escaped our notice. (See what I did there?) It made for a delicious and pungent egg scramble mixed with some goat cheese. Slurp.

BOOM! Done...

Pictured: Ebullient Insanity. All smiles in the early miles.

Right. I think I'm gonna make people gag with a step-by-step recitive on the race. So I'll say this: I'm very glad I did it. I'm glad I was with my buddies early on. I'm glad my friends came out to cheer and D-Gangs was "on point", getting a ton of terrific photos/video. I'm glad Moda's folks were there to take some of the best race photo's I've seen of Team Awesome. I'm proud of the half-Mary "virgins" who ran their first. (And smoked the s#it out of the course. WHERE'S THE FIRE!?!) And I'm reeeeeeally proud of my new race shorts. They're very short.

Pictured: Crossing the finish. Everyone is looking away. Why? Because of what you don't see that's been cropped for decency purposes. Not pictured? Decency...and dignity.

FeeJ PR'd, Moda has a new itch to (someday) be a pacer in a more "official" capacity, and I managed to shave 11 seconds off of my own PR. (And wondering if I can run a sub-2:00 at the Monster Dash.) Which is weird, since I was going in to this thing suuuuper chill. It was just a joyful morning to be goofy and chatty and see what the body could do. I mean, it's weird...I was trying to drift off for a post-race snooze and my mind kept at it- "Was my pace off?" "Could I have turned it up earlier?" "I could do a Full-Mary". It's madness. Or the shorts. Probably the shorts.

Anyway, the worst part is that we're all hurting a bit after this one. Moda is still "technically" recuperating from G-Ma's two weeks ago. Both FeeJ and I are nursing a janky foot. And (on a strange note) I've had the s#ittiest sleep patterns. (I was dog-tired when I got home, and couldn't go back to sleep to save my life. And after a late night firework show, I tossed and turned aGAIN!)

So yeah. We'll be taking a few days off. Not too many, though. I'm really hoping to get back out for long runs with my buddies.

And we're running...again...

(pictured: Symbol of DC Superhero "The Flash". I've toyed with the idea of getting a bright red race outfit for visibility purposes and affixing this patch to the chest...then kiboshed it because I'm not very fast and...well he's just not my favorite superhero)

BOOM! Double Blaug!

Moda, Feej, and I will be running the Red, White, and Boom on 7/4. Because we're weird. And running a half-Mary on our day off seemed like a pretty good idea at the time. (You know? I dragged my feet on some weird tangent about how "it's right outside my back door" and "well why wouldn't I run a neighborhood race?" yadda yadda...it's just not happening. There's no real benign reason to be dragging our asses to the starting line at 6am. Oh wait...yes there is...) I had this funny scenario in my head where I'd drag my feet on running, then agree to crew FeeJ and Moda, then show up on race day taking off my hoodie to reveal MY RACE NUMBER!!!

Unfortunately, my evasiveness was viewed as more annoying than anything. That and they sniffed me out when the race numbers were made available online. So much for surprises, no matter how weak I make them.

Hey...anyone remember last year? When Moda was educating me about "Race Karma" and we volunteered for the R/W/B b/c it was so close to us? We ran the Lake Harriet 10K on July 3rd then went over to help unload the cup and water trucks for the beverage station? Man. That was a HOT day. And the very next day when we got up to go to our water station where we had volunteered behind the Quarry? And, and, and what did it do? Yeeeeeah.

P#ssing rain. At 7am. On 7/4. We stood there soggy in our makeshift garbage bag ponchos. And when the rain did clear? And the early a.m. heat showed up? Ssssssssteamy business, kids. Anyway, my point of this whiney tirade is that because every race I've done so far this year climatologically speaking has been an exact replica of 2010? I'm visualizing soggy bottoms for at least half of the run.

Which is to say that the weather's no big deal. What is a big deal is working through injury. And f#ck all it's getting in my brain and psyching me out. Last weekend I did an exploratory run of the course just to get more-or-less familiar with the terrain. We've all trod the area, and the Deming Heights hill (the "Hard" hill on the race) has been part of my training now for a few months- I've even gone so far as to mentally say "Hi" to it when I approach, hoping the Earth Gods ease the incline and carry me up the hill. Shut it. The rest of the weekend I did lawn work in my heavy leather "outdoor shoes", then woke up on Sunday with a foot that felt like it was caught in a bear trap. Nigh on unwalkable. Gimpy limp.

And I got worried. Here's the big drawback to minimalist shoes, frassers: As soon as you switch back to heavy soled shoes, you run the risk of injury. And since I've bitched about this before (so it shouldn't have been a big surprise)...I was hoping that it wouldn't be right before my next f#cking race. My last run a few days ago in my Free's (which I'm racing in) was a 6 mile exercise in pain. I switched to two "shorty" runs in my Veeb's which both felt better. (I won't even lie when I say I was considering racing the half-Mary in them. I just haven't put up the distance)

So after the improvement I've been experiencing this year, I'm feeling a little "back to square one"-ish. I've been re-reading "Born To Run" (Which you should all. read. Inspirational, Exciting, and Informative. Something for runners and non-runners alike. Truth) to keep me inspired and focused. But I'm approaching this race with more trepidation than I did the Mpls Half-Mary. And it's mostly pissing me off. Frass. I wasn't even hoping to PR this one. Just run a fun long-weekend race with buddies.

Frass N' Grumble.

Annnnnyway, as I polish of this glass of whine I'd like to (again) encourage you 4 readers to drag your butts out to NE Mipples this coming Monday to cheer the race if you can. I know that many of you don't get done puking until noon, but your support is nevertheless welcome and appreciated down to the soles of our feet.

Happy Fourth o' July, friends!