Me Me Monday #82
it's still Monday in Japan, isn't it?


Yes, okay... I will admit it. I am forgetful and slack. But here is the Monday MeMe thing I claimed I would do on a regular basis...

82. Sure, I wish I were an astronaut

(This number was randomly generated using some website - so if you wanna get annoyed at which one was picked, blame THAT programmer, not THIS one.)

Now then, being a geeky science and math kid, I naturally wanted to be an astronaut. I dreamed of designing the next space shuttle and flying it out into space. I got into Star Trek and Star Wars and Battlestar Galactica (the original one) and I could name all the people and read/watched Cosmos by Carl Sagan. And, YES, I was a geeky science and math kid. Well, give me a break - of COURSE I was - being half-Japanese means never having to think twice in any math class. I was the one that busted the bell curve for all the other kids.

You know, it was pretty rough for me, moving to Virginia. Back in Hawaii, I was SO "IN" like Flynn. Not like the poor haole kids - nope, I was way in the in crowd - Samoan and Hawaiian and Asian friends galore, all of the popular set. Now, move forward to VA - I was WAAAAY OUT. Not only was I a geek with funny clothes but I looked furrin. (That would be "foreign" to you non-Southern folk.) I looked like this little roly-poly Asian kid... which I was... I became very popular in short order... well, popular in the sense that all the redneck kids loved to pick on and gang up on "the new funny-looking fat asian kid with glasses".

It was a lesson learn in prejudice that I have never forgotten. I remember ruthlessly picking on this one poor white girl in elementary school. I will never forget her name - Lynn Horn. There was nothing particularly "wrong" with her, other than the fact that she was, well, white. A haole. An evil invader of the island of Hawaii. The root cause of all problems there... right? Well, we were cruel kids... all kids are cruel in groups. It's just the nature of the beast for kids to gravitate to one group or another... and this poor girl was unable to group with anyone because SHE was the outcast. We used to call her "Hornytoads". I guess I got the karmic bitchslap I so fully deserved when we moved to Virginia at the age of 12. (Not a good age for a kid to move, by the way, to such a different environment). I learned that lesson VERY well. I guess all that running from the large groups of rednecks wanting a piece of kicking my ass did pay off some - I lost weight. That was good.

I also remember thinking at one point, that I would have been better off if I were black, because, in my juvenile thinking, at least the black people back each other up, from what I could tell. The Asians? Man, they just stick their noses further into their books, hid behind their slide rules, calculators, and notebooks, and whispered to each other in corners. I would guess they were saying things along the lines of "Glad I'm not THAT kid." The Asians tended to keep pretty much to themselves or stuck to their own small groups... especially if you were not of THEIR particular Asian roots... Let's face it. Asians are really some of the most racist and xenophobic peoples out there. Go to any university commons area and you will likely see this in action:

The Chinese hang with the other chinks, the Japs hang with their fellow slopes, the Vietnamese hang with their gook friends, etc. etc. And never the twain shall meet. I'm serious. To most of you non-Asians, we all look alike, so you might wonder how we could tell who to hang with. Sure, I know it's true - we're just a bunch of short, off-white colored people with slanted eyes with epicanthic folds to boot. But, really, there are differences and we rice eaters can TELL. We can definitely tell.

Now what the hell does this have to do with becoming an astronaut? Well, not much on the surface... but in order for me to survive the massive change from being on the IN crowd to being a single target for ridicule and beatings, I had to change A LOT. I used to be a quiet, shy kid. Never cursed. Hell, I used to pray immediately to God for forgiveness if I said "Hell" or even "Damn". Can you believe that? Well, needless to say, that has changed a lot in itself. I became VERY outgoing - always going an extra step beyond practical just to get a laugh. When ridiculed by the bullies, I would snap right back at them... this often confused them and gave me extra time to get out of line of sight. And rather than be the geek, I tried to be the outgoing "fun" guy. I hid my geek tendencies, and while my dream of being an astronaut remained, it remained hidden within instead.

So, the karmic bitchslap really had an effect on my outlook on all things and all people... all because I wanted to be an astronaut. (yeah, I know it's a bit of a stretch... but I had to at least make the effort to make it seem like I am making sense here...)
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The Muse was upon me...

Actually, she was. Muse-in-training popped me on the head for details about the gig I played this Saturday past. Well, we were playing in a Sports Bar and were SUPPOSED to start around 9:30pm. Now, I love my Va Tech Hokies, being one myself, but we got pushed back because ESPN just HAD to televise their game against UNC. Va Tech stomped the powderpuff blue boys from UNC, 30-3, by the way - so that part was great.... but we couldn't play till the game was done... started at 7:45pm... ended at 11:00pm-ish, sound check, start by 11:20 ish.... Hey, it's a sports bar.

On the plus side, we had our percussionist sitting in with us, and Todd... he's damned good - he adds that whole funky groove that really helps move butts. And moving butts = a good show, right? Well, for some reason, the crowd just really wasn't receptive - most likely cause the only people still around were there for the game, not for the music. Then I found out the manager never hung up our flyers - which kinda sucks - advertising is always a good thing, right? We had really cool flyers too cause Kirk, the band leader in all but name, does graphic arts as a side gig, so... Plus, it was T-G week, so a lot of the peops that come out, well, were out of town... etc etc. Just a lame crowd night. We did have one VERY happy table and an EXTREMELY friendly wannabe fan, though... she was very drunk and VERY amusing... too bad she was also a bit on the VERY scary side. Then add in technical problems with the sound AND with the light boards - both at once, which really pissed off Kirk... which affected HIS mood... we just never really gelled into a good groove. We played well, we sang pretty well - I sang as well as could be expected, with a voice still 70% gone, and we had a good selection of tunes. We just never really felt the groove like we did Tuesday night at the impromptu band practice/performance at the usual Open Mic night. We slam jammed hard, had the crowd jumping/hootin/hollerin... and we all felt that groove. But Saturday night? Not so much.

Still, we got paid in full for only 2 hours of "work" instead of the 3-4 we expected, so I guess we really can't complain. But I'll admit it - I'm a "crowd ho" - it's what I live for when I play. Money is all good and well, but I love to hear/see the crowd get off to what we play. That's a better drug than any you can buy. oh well. Maybe I'll score some Thursday at our next 2-man gig....
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Some Rambling Words about Lying

As quoted by our famous stand-up philosopher, Chris Rock:

Men lie the most,
women tell the biggest lies.

All men are liars. We have to lie all the time just to keep neck and neck with women. Women don't lie nearly as much as men do... HOWEVER, the MAGNITUDE of women's lies is far greater... For the mathematically involved, the equations could be represented thusly

Based on these values:
M = # times men lie
A = Average magnitude of male lies
W = # times women lie
B = Average magnitude of female lies

The following are therefore true:
M > W
A < B
However, this theorem is as yet unproven:
M x A = W x B


Men lie about their their gas mileage, whose house they were at, their golf scores, the size of their fish they caught, the size of the pole in their pants, the fastest time to drive some long distance, etc. We will lie about what time we went to bed and what time we got up. We lie about just about ANYTHING at ANY time. But we pretty much nit pick tiny little things. It just happens. It's not like there's a grand plan or scheme to it all...

Oh, one of my favorites is the telling of one of several infamous "car tales"....

such as this one...

A friend of mine and I were driving down to the beach. (Note_1: classic car tales often involve a "friend", sometimes named, sometimes not. Good friends will, of course, back up your version of the tale or embellish it) We were heading down to the beach to look at this car we saw in the Trading post - all it said was '63 Chevy, $400. So we're on this backroad and we find this house with a huge yard and a barn. We go up to the house and talk to this little old lady (Note_2:the proverbial little old lady used in so many tales - it is assumed, of course, that being a little old lady means you know absolutely nothing about cars, right? Isn't that nice and sexist AND agist, eh?). Well, we talk to the lady and she tells us that her son bought the car right before he went off to Viet Nam (Note_3:pronounced, of course, Vee-yet Nam, as in rhymes with Jam, to further the "don't know jack" stereotype) and, unfortunately, he was either killed in action or had his legs "blowed off" or "got crippled" by a bullet in the back so the car was of no use to him. She kept it for him all this time, naturally, and never drove it but he had just passed away recently and she needed the money...

So, we go look in this barn. And there is a little car stuck under some 30 year old tarp. And it has been sitting here in the barn forever, but always covered up. And what, pray tell, kind of car was it? Well, in MOST car guy car stories, it's a Split rear window 1963 Corvette - only one of the rarest and most valuable 'Vettes ever, right? And it has less than 100 miles on the speedo. AND it's in pristeen shape (Note_4: forget about the fact that rodents DO like to make nesting spots in cars - some guys cover that part by the mom coming and brushing and dusting off the car from time to time)

Of course, I have also heard this tale told with Superbees (a very rare musclecar) and Daytonas (the also rare sister to the SuperBee) and any number of other RARE cars.

THOSE are the kinds of lies guys tell... oh, and some scum say they're single even when you can see the damned tan line on their ring fingers, right? Yeah and I promise to pull out before I... and later, YEAH, the child support check is in the mail. No, I haven't told these lies... but I have seen it done... Okay, so maybe we men suck worse than I give us credit for... SO maybe Chris Rock wasn't entirely correct... oh well...
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But women are hardly innocent... oh, HELL NO!
Hey, let's just look at the product involved:
Hair dye, wigs, stockings, high heels, breast augmentation, butt implants (the latest craze), colored contacts, lipstick, blush, eye shadow. Hell, they shouldn't call it a makeover, they should call it a disguise.

Oh, and the ever popular "Let's just be friends." - this is a really kind way of saying "You're just not cool enough to attract me - it's just too bad you're not gay so we could go shopping."

And I'm not saying ALL women do this one... but I've gotten tagged with it:
I'm Pregnant. (Oh Yes she did. And, oh no she wasn't )
You're my baby daddy.
I'm single. I love you. (Okay, so these go both ways...)

Even the clothing you wear is designed to disguise and augment your very body - various bras with and without gel/water/air bags, shoulder pads (so 80's), panty hose with "control top" - ie, it sucks you in up top, butt slimmer panties, girdles, boy shorts... okay, well, that last one - they do improve the look of many a butt, but I digress....

Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Women are beautiful things and the things they do that catch my eye, well, I would hardly have the patience for. I have heard the following line so often... well, I'm sure you've heard/said it to:

"The things we women go through to make ourselves look pretty for you (men and/or women)"

And having been a "Man of Honor" (male Maid of Honor) for my dear friend, Iantha, I have been in the 'back room' where the make up and clothing is done. I tell you, my male brethren, WE'VE GOT IT MADE! Toss on some underwear, socks, shirt, throw on some deodorant... and NO that is NOT optional... especially for some of you. You know, we really DO have it easy by way of comparison. It's a wonder to me that more men don't dress well.

And you know what, we really SHOULD.

It's a plain and simple fact that women do, in fact, like a sharp dressed man. It comes from the same line of thought which causes women to like men in uniform. We can look very sharp all decked out. We really can. It's true. I can't say that I could keep up with wearing suits all the time, but you know - it really wouldn't kill us to do it once and a while, just to keep them women-folk offbalance. (Hey, anything to get an edge, you know?) Trust me - it will impress, if you just put in a little effort.

But it's the sad truth that we won't likely change from our blue jean ways...
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hey, that sounds like a song just waiting to be written...
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Okay... so, where was I?
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Happy Early Turkey Day

What am I thankful for today?

Well, let's get the obvious things out of the way : family, friends, sticky rice, curry, guitars, music, muscle cars, women, football, this blog, sex, comedy, grass, trees, smoke, fire, electricity, water, food, air, beaches, sex, women, nerf, velcro, sodom and gomorrha (at least HE said he wouldn't blow up another town again, so that makes me feel a little safer with my piddly sins...), more sex, writing, books, eyesight, hearing, sense of touch, sense of color, sense of style, sense of humor, my wit or lack thereof, targets (not Targets with a capital 'T', mind you), skirts and short dresses, lingerie, climbing gear, water polo, soccer, big dogs, cats, big dogs who eat small dogs, cats who chase small dogs, small dogs who aren't annoying, sand, water balloons, alternative substances, memory recall, CRS, alcohol, sedatives, Mel Brooks, movies, Carlos Mencia, Trey Anastasio, Mozart, sex, blondes, brunettes, redheads, others, Canada, Canadian Bacon - also known as HAM, chocolate trouffles, pancakes, STEAK, women, sex, video editing, meditation, massage, breasts, chicken, turkey, Hawaii, Japan, Italy, the United States, Spain, the sky, clouds, dvd rentals, video games, magazines, popcorn, windshield wiper fluid, thermometers, Edgar Allen Poe, Rush, Phish, monitors, greeting cards that have NOTHING to do with Valentine's Day, CD's, records, diamonds, food, grape juice, Bugs Bunny, Robitussin (you know, the 'Tussin will cure Errythang), NOT Microsoft, cellphones, mouths, notebooks, pencils, shoes, socks, deodorant (particularly on SOME people), convertibles, sex, South Park, JFK, Dallas, Virginia Tech, VCU, college education in general, and did I mention sex WITH women?

So, what did I miss? I'm sure there's SOMETHING out there I missed.

Oh, yeah, thanks to all of youz out there who happen by here to read a bit or two from time to time. I SWEAR part 7 is coming. REALLY!

Okay, so yeah, I'm male. Thankful for that in some ways too.

So

Laryngitis

It sucks. It blows. It is the silent vocal killer that creeps behind doorways and lampshades, just waiting for its chance to leap, unsuspecting upon singers, actors, comedians, and politicians... of course, who cares if it beats up on a politician, right? But me? I'm a singing comedian, a comic singer... a funny guy with a semi-decent voice... or at least, that's what THEY tell me.

Now, I know that we have all asked the question, "Who the hell are THEY?" That mysterious unspecified group of experts, omniscients, and contortionists who know all, do all, and have all been there before. And yet, why the hell aren't THEY doing anything about curing even the smallest of irritating little inconveniences such as, well, laryngitis. I mean, c'mon, it's not like I'm asking THEM to cure cancer - although I am pretty sure that the cure already exists and is well known to the American Cancer Society... but why would THEY let the cure out? I mean, it would cost them billions upon billions of dollars... and as WE all know, the money is in the treatment, NOT the cure. So what do I say? Screw THEM.

But I digress. I always do.

So, where was I? Oh yes, laryngitis. Yep, I have it again. I had it back in February, when I first "re-"started my music "career"... and I lost my voice. But not for just a week or so... nope. It was gone for 7 weeks. That's over 40 days to you and me. After 2 weeks, I couldn't even make a croaking noise - best I could manage was just a whisper no matter how hard I tried.

Can you imagine not being able to speak clearly, or even audibly, for 7 weeks? Now, think of it this way - I was trying to sing and to hook up with other musicians and score a gig as a lead or backup singer/guitarist. How easy is that to do when you sound like Froggy? I gained respect for those who cannot speak - it is frustrating in the least to lose the ability to communicate well, to speak and be heard... hell, just being able to speak. And here I am once again, dreading every moment I need to speak and worrying about just how long this is going to last.

I have a gig this coming Saturday night. Poor Kirk... methinks he is going to be doing an awful lot of singing. I suppose it's a good thing that he used to solo a lot in recent years. And I'll get to work more on my improv/lead guitar skills... I suppose that could be good for me, yeah? Oh well...

I suppose I only have myself to blame. It all started one night when I went to hear my drummer play in one of his other bands. It was nice little Friday night excursion... until Mr. Long Island Iced Tea decided to fool me into thinking that, "Yes. Yelling louder than a 747 was indeed a good thing to do... and, NO... that little tickle at the back of your throat? It means nothing..." I certainly couldn't feel the back of my throat from all those extra strong LI Iced Teas I drank.

I suppose that's one of the banes and benefits of knowing the bartenders in a place. If they know you, they might have your drink ready and waiting for you... but they also might ignore you for a while as they serve strangers first, knowing you are a patient sort. Of course, when they DO serve you, they sure do seem to like to pour the liquor heavy. And who am I to complain about that? And she really did turn it up on me that night - since I finally WASN'T the designated driver FOR ONCE. It was a tall glass she poured... and when you only have enough space at the top for a tiny splash of coke/pepsi and all the rest is filled with those white liquors and ice... well, it's gonna be a stiffy.

So, on the plus side, my sinuses were certainly clear from those drinks. Maybe that's when that tiny virus hopped down my throat and latched itself onto my vocal chords? Who knows? I just know I can barely bitch about it... and if I did, no one would hear me.

So thanks, all you blogheads out there, for reading my bitching. When my voice improves, we'll be recording a demo CD... and I'll set up a myspace so you can suffer with my "good" voice then!

And YES - that picture is REALLY of vocal chords! Really! Damn, such gutterminds some people be having.

Have a great Tuesday!
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Thoughts of Cold Weather...

Last night it actually got cold again. For some of you other Northern Hemispherers, it being November means well, DUH, of COURSE it's cold; however, we in Virginia have been blessed with unseasonably warm weather for several extra weeks this year. ( And I certainly hope my mentioning of it doesn't make it go away!! )

Now, I am not saying we in "the South" suffer horrible winters, but we do actually get snow on occasion. No, really, we do.

This whole thought process started when I read Jade's post from the other day. She mentioned the cold hitting them up there in Chi-town. And then she blasted D.C. drivers for their complete inability to handle a few snowflakes. Well, she's right, of course - partly due to the fact that snow is rare enough around here to cause a commotion, and partly due to the fact that, simply put, most D.C. drivers SUCK. Either they freak out completely and slow down to a crawl whenever they see ANYTHING out of the ordinary, or they fly by as if they somehow have some sort of magical force that will keep their car on the road, regardless of weather and road conditions.

Have you ever wondered why sometimes you get stuck on the interstate in a traffic jam? You crawl at 5mph (that would be 8kph for you metroids)... stop... 5 mph... stop... 5 mph... stop... rinse ... cuss ... repeat? And then, at some odd undefined point, the traffic all simply dissipates - no visible accident, no sign of a scuffle, no road hazards to be seen ANYWHERE? Anyone who has driven on a highway has experienced this at least once, I am sure.

Well I know what it is and how it is caused.

And here's the answer: Ever see those squirrels on that insurance commercial? Yeah, well, one of those guys hops out on the side of the road and flips off a D.C. driver - see, the squirrels can read so they know which ones to do this to - then that driver freaks out and slows down... and ALL the rest of the people have to caterpillar to a crawl... and this gets worse and worse until

*WHAM*

*BAM*

*TRAFFIC JAM*.

This is like going to the movies for those damned squirrels. Sitting there on the guard rails, munchin' on popped acorns and nuts, giggling their evil, furry asses off.

Now then, going back to the snow thing. This is something I have always wondered about. In this fine state of Virginia - okay, YES, it is actually technically the Commonwealth of Virginia, and not a state... WHATEVER! Okay, so in Virginia, as soon as snow has been seen, there is a massive run on the grocery store for milk, eggs, and bread. Hell, it doesn't even need to actually snow - if there is a RUMOUR that a snowflake MIGHT have been seen - a SINGLE, SOLITARY FLAKE - then there will be no eggs for you (or milk or bread).

So here is my question. Why eggs, milk, and bread? What the hell? Does everyone who gets snowbound around here suddenly have the munchies for French Toast? WTF? Me? I'd rather have some grilled meat than French Toast - not to demean the French, or anything... but what up with the whole milk-eggs-bread thing? Omelet with toast? French Toast. Egg Sammich? Bleh.

And COME ON, people. It's VIRGINIA not MANITOBA. If we get 6 INCHES of snow, that probably sets a record.... and it won't likely last a WEEK! Can't you go a WEEK without FRENCH TOAST??? Now in Minnesota or Manitoba or Quebec, I wouldn't be surprised to hear about 6 FEET of snow... and they can handle it just fine. Of course, their snow STAYS AROUND for months. Here in Virginia, if it lasts a week or two, that's shocking. So lay off the damned eggs - they are NOT going to disappear unless we have a freaking NEW ICE AGE. And if THAT happens? Well, an extra dozen eggs and a loaf of bread isn't gonna help you for squat. Nope nope nope. That's when you need to get some gear and go huntin' and fishing... and move further south.

But in defense of D.C. drivers... and Virginia drivers, for that matter - we don't see enough snow... so it's freaky when it happens. Me? I love it... but I have fam from up north and I'm a transplant here...

If you're a D.C. driver? Well, if you don't like getting taxed without representation? Move to Northern Virginia or Maryland.... but then you can't say you live in D.C.
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HNT 12 - Horrible New Toy

I just discovered ImageReady - a function of the Adobe Photoshop product which allows one to create animated GIF's.... where the hell have I been all this time that I just found this out? Guess I've been too busy writing code instead of playing with others. Oh well...

Well, it's the best I could do on a first go...

Fo Mo Info about HNTo. Yo, Go To Os-Bass-O.

Happy HNT-ing peoples.

I Drink, Therefore I am...


So, Does this just come with being a musician?

And, yes, props to the The Shizzle named Summer from whose blog I found this site. Now, THAT's a dangerous woman.

Peace.

Oddities, Notes, and Quotes from the Weekend

"I love playing with Todd. He throws down great rhythm," - me. Oh, come off it people, he's the new percussion player for my band. You are all so dirty minded.
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"She's crazy about me. Whenever she gets about me, she goes f**kin nuts" - a drummer
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"He just hired that other guitarist so he could drink in the middle of a song." - Same drummer. Sure enough, as soon as they started their second song, the band leader turned around and chugged a beer. Of course, the drummer got even later in the set when he tossed a broken drumstick and hit him in the back of the head. How can you drink while playing drums, after all?
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"Don't worry. We can't see your blonde roots showing yet"
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"She's got NO front teeth, dude"

"Yeah, I know. She's perfect."
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"So how long have you been growing your hair?" - Who knows? I get this all the time.

"Ever since I was born." - Yes, I MUST be a smart ass. Yes, ALL the time.
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"Hey man. Are you going to play my song?" - asked of me by this cute, young barfly girl

"Of course," I replied. The song? Tenacious D's very own "F**k Her Gently". You know, that's a love song that always brings a tear to my eye. No, really.
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"Hey, you're 'man' just got fired."

"What do you mean, the guy with the long hair?"

"Yeah. He got fired."

"The ONLY thing he had going for him WAS the long hair. He's too skinny. My big man has spoiled me. Fuck the skin and bones - I need me some MEAT."
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Hopefully I will write something worth reading tomorrow! Doubt it, but who the hell knows?
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Me Me Monday #73

73. I am an avid reader

Just to clear things up to readers of the blog - the selection for last week was made completely at random, just as was done here today. And it was done on short notice - I tend to be a bit of a stream writer - not exactly in the vein of Kerouac, because I would certainly not want to claim to be in that class, but it amounts to much the same thing. I picked the topic and I simply started writing, without much editing or forethought to the topic at hand. After the blog entry was finished in almost complete draft form, I then revisited the topic and edited a few spots here and there - so any thoughts or phrases that were there were primarily from the original train of thought, wherever it might have come from. Given the nature of the original topic, well... it is only natural that related thoughts would come into focus. It wasn't through a concerted effort to make any particular points that this happened, it just more or less did.

And to clarify Kerouac, he did actually revise The Road a number of times prior to publication. Now, that disclaimer wastefully written, on with the topic at hand, which is

73. I am an avid reader

Yep. Admittedly true. I am what I would guess could be considered an avid reader. I read during free moments here and there - I hate to sit idly by. When I am not actively DOING something, I'd much rather be reading then simply sucking air and/or watching the idiot box. This is not to say I don't watch ANY TV, but I watch it sparingly, on my terms, and on my time. Yes, I own far too many DVD's and DVD sets as a result...

I have been known to be reading as many as 5 or 6 different books at the same time. And, no, they are not all of the same genre. At one point this summer past, I was re-reading a Robert Jordan fantasy title, reading the latest Harry Potter book and The Essential Kabbalah (Q'Balah, Qaballah, or however the hell you want to spell it - it amounts to much the same thing), reading The Rise and Fall of the Ottoman Empire, gazing through several issues of Car Craft and Rolling Stone magazine, a novel by some author whose name escapes me at this moment - which indicates to me that it wasn't really all THAT memorable... which is, indeed, the case, and re-reading a collection of HP Lovecraft's work.

Many people look at me like I am nuts when I tell them that I do this on a regular basis. The most common issue is keeping track of each book separately and my place in them. I don't know - it was never really a problem for me. Then again, could this be a sign that I am not entirely well upstairs? Could I be suffering from some version of multiple personality disorder? Several people would agree with you on this tip... who knows - could be true, but I'd never admit to it... and neither would I... nor I... nor me over here.

On the other hand - I do wonder sometimes if I am simply ADD. Of course, ADD seems to be the latest new craze in the medical world for dealing with unruly, bored kids. Parents suddenly abound that have children diagnosed with ADD. Don't get me wrong, I think that it may indeed be a real situation FOR SOME. But I think most kids are simply bored because our school systems have been so damn watered down that they are continually bored and simply look to get into trouble. I know I did my first few years of school until my 3rd grade teacher decided to assign me extra work to do. Problem solved for me, at least.

Which then leads me to think about the school system - it isn't the teacher's faults, but our standards have been so far lowered that more and more kids are simply bored. Why do we do this? Because we couldn't possibly leave poor Johnny behind - we MUST lower the standards for the lowest achieving kid. No, let's not keep the standard and help Johnny do better - let's simply lower the standards so our numbers LOOK better. That's no solution people. The Greatest Common Denominator factor we are applying here is simply making our kids shine less brightly. Now, don't jump all over for me on this - I think Johnny should indeed be helped, but making it easier for him is NOT the solution.

Now, do you see how I ramble on? Started with being an avid reader to going and bashing our crappy educational system. Here in Virginia they rate education on a system called S.O.L. - the Standards Of Learning. Teachers no longer teach kids knowledge in schools here - oh no, they don't have the time to - they have to concentrate on teaching the kids how to pass the SOL tests. Of course, we ALL know what SOL really stands for, now don't we?

For those NOT in the know - SOL = Shit Outta Luck.

Have a great day everyone - READ MORE. It's good for yer brain!

HNT 11 - Havin' a Nice Time

Well, lacking pics and having been scolded for lack of a hair shot, here are some modified pics from my birthday celebration from 2004. This was taken by my friends who went to celebrate with me at this duelling piano bar called Crocodile Rocks. Hopefully, from the pictures, you can tell that I was, indeed enjoying myself.

So, without further ado, here is the obligatory hair shot:

So I did get called up to the stage...

And, yes, that's me on the stage behind all the pretty girls.

Those of you who have been to a duelling piano bar have seen something like this before. For those of you who have never been? Well, go check it out... and be prepared to either participate or get called up to the stage and embarrassed. All in good fun, of course.

And what am I about if not good fun and a good time?

Happy HNT everyone - go off and see the Wonderful Wizard of Osbasso for details.

Posting Problems...

So there I was, simply wandering about the blogiverse and posting comments around - well, really, I guess in a sense I was also fishing for them - something I read on someone's blog... and I really, REALLY should give them credit for that. Dammit. Well, I'll go search for that info in a bit, if I have the chance and link you to it.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, I had come across a post that I thought might lead me to a fine idea for a post of my own. Well, that was last night. Today I thought about the rant I was going to write and, really, well... I just wasn't in the mood.

See, I was going to write about how we Americans just LOVE to buy all these stickers and bracelets that are SUPPOSED to help this charity or that while at the same time show support for some cause or other. I was also going to say that I, for one, love America. I love what this country stands for, the ideals that it is based on - especially all the ones we seem to have forgotten. Of course, I would also have mentioned that I mourn for the death of all common sense in this great nation. That would be a subject for several posts all on its own.

Then, I would have said something along the lines about how sick I am of seeing those little ribbons everywhere. Me? I think the soldiers are better served by actively supporting them in some way, sending money to some charity that truly supports them, and then putting my own yellow ribbon on my antennae. Why? Cause most Americans who actually make and sell those ribbons are, well, in it for the freaking money. Sad, but true. Sure, the charities might be on the up and up, but don't think for an instant that those ribbons get sold to them for free. Hell, there are even people, excuse me, scumbags, out there that are making lookalike ribbons and stickers and wristbands who are selling them solely for profit - and NONE of the money goes to the charities.

Click the picture and see how many hundred of sites are set up and ready to profit from the desire of most Americans to feel charitable or patriotic. Let's be real, people. A magnet on a car is nothing more than a quickie bandaid for, really, your own guilt. Do something real - it is more satisfying, truly. The magnet is a bit of pride, really - "let me show you that I am patriotic or support cause X". Do we really need to make well with anyone but our own conscience? I could be wrong here...

Me? I help who I can - and sure, I like a thank you... but just from the ones I help. I don't demand it - but it does feel nice to know it was appreciated. Most of the joy received comes from seeing the faces and feeling that appreciation directly.

But I could be wrong. It has happened once or twice before. Seriously. (Yeah, okay, smack me on the head for the ego.)

Of course, that would have been followed up by some comment about how we should ALWAYS check out the charities we want to send money to. I mean, hasn't anyone seen the 20/20 or 60 Minutes segment about all these FAKE charities that are named LIKE some REAL charity, but are all owned by some sleazebag who is simply collecting money... for himself?

For example - see these names:

• American Cancer Association
• American Cancer Support
• American Cancer Society
• American Cancer Consortium
• American Cancer Institute

Which is the REAL one? And there are literally dozens more "American Cancer ____" listings to be found.

You know, I would PROBABLY have then gone right back to that common sense being dead in America theme. See? Shouldn't it simply be illegal for some rat-bastard soulless punk of an ass to make up a fake charity like that? Shouldn't it?

But NO, we have to let him be "free". Yeah, I'm sorry - I don't think a person should be free to screw over and harm others. Conservatives would say I was impeding his right to capitalism - to which I say, bullshit. That's stealing and misrepresentation... Of course, uber-liberals would say I might be violating his freedom of expression and evertually whip out the favored phrase of "slippery slope". Hell, we are ALREADY on a slippery slope - we are just on the WRONG SIDE of it.

Me? I say stick a hot poker up his ass and be done with it. He's going to hell anyway, so why not help him along? I mean, I am just trying to be the ever-helpful guy here.

Is that too harsh?

But then I thought to myself, "Nahh... who wants to read yet another rant like that?". So I shit-canned the idea and decided to write this instead:

Hi Everyone! Had a gig Saturday night and it was... decent. Best of all. I got paid! Sweet. Happy Hump Day to everyone!
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. Oh, and it was the FunkyBug whose blog I first mentioned above, then le Muse-in-Training who semi-inspired the rant that sort of almost wasn't.

Me Me Monday #33

33. No, I'm definitely NOT gay.. not that there's anything wrong with it

Hmm... well, it was selected at random so I'm just going to have to roll with it.

No, I'm NOT gay. Some people I know are and that's fine by me. But like all other things in this world, I am fine with allowing others to believe and live the way they want to live, so long as they don't throw it in my face. See, I believe that everyone has a right to swing their fists - but that right ends at the tip of my nose. You touch my nose and, well, I get to take you out. And just cause you're gay doesn't give you the right to bash me for being straight. I certainly don't bash gay people for being gay. I don't bash people for being the way they are, be they black, white, gay, liberal, atheist, or republican... (okay, maybe if they are foolishly overly obnoxiously liberal or republican I do...) I bash people for being assholes and idiots.

Hey, some of my best friends are gay!

Have you ever heard someone say that before? Well, I can't say it is true for me now - I have had a number of gay and lesbian friends in the past and time has driven us apart or we have lost touch - it is the nature of living that separates people sometimes. Back when I was at VCU, and the population ratio of gays-straight was higher? Well, I had several g/l friends, particularly motorcycle riders like myself. (Can't exactly call my self a biker... just not Hell's Angels enough... too nice, really)

As a side note: I have been told that my impression of a catty, effeminate gay man is eerily realistic - that I do it "too well" but what exactly does that mean?
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Now, let me clarify some things about what I consider appropriate and inappropriate behavior - I don't fondle or grope my dates when in public, and I try to keep any kissing to a respectable level. Yes, I realize this is a bit of a judgment call; however, one can generally tell that when someone says, "Get a room" ? That you are going beyond the polite levels. Of course, different situations call for different levels of this sort of behavior. Like a peck is allowed in church, I suppose, but not much more. A good kiss is okay in a bar or restaurant, to be sure... but, please, let's not be dry-humping on the barstool, mm'kay? That's just not polite to other people, now is it? Of course, Spring Break parties and the like are off the hook and the rules are generally thrown out the windows there... see, it all depends on the situation.

I guess some people call me conservative as far as my behavior in social situations - I guess I'm just a bit old school in the "time and place for everything" vein... I certainly don't FEEL old school... maybe I'm just polite?

Now then, relating this to the gay community of which I am not a part, well, I expect the same consideration from all of you. Really, I expect this from ALL people. Don't go make out in church, don't dry hump one another at the table next to me at Hops, and at Spring Break, well, anything goes. I will be polite and not force you to witness my equivalent.... well, except for such appropriate Spring-Break-ish parties and the like - you know, when EVERYTHING seems to go. I'm not a big fan of watching drunk people of ANY sort getting sloppy all over one another in a sports bar on a quiet Thursday night...

so go sneak off to the bathroom or something. (I would).. ;)

Of course, some might call this gay-bashing. Umm, yeah... no, it isn't. It's just called consideration for others. I am only expecting you to behave in a manner I expect everyone to behave in out of consideration and respect.

Then again, I expect no less from the straight community.... and the black community... and the brown... and all you asian freaks out there to boot (of which I am part of)...

Really, could it be that I expect better behavior out of the community of PEOPLE? Could it be? Hmmm... Yes, I think so.
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What does any of this have to do with me being NOT gay? Not much really... but.. the other day I was told I was a homophobe because I used the word "flaming" in another context. For all it mattered, I could have said my house was on fire and descibed it as a flaming building. Damn glad I didn't say that I had a queer feeling in my stomach when I saw the rainbow across the sky... which would have been due to the dyke up-river with a hole in it. Regardless of which, I ate some crackers with soup and that kept me from puking up my guts, probably due to me getting all flaked out about my last gig... are you seeing my point?

Ahh well, it's Monday - I needed to rant, not necessarily be coherent. Come back tomorrow if you want a sensible post.

HNT 10 - Halloween's New Teacher

Happy HNT-ing people... well, those of you who don't think I'm some kind of freak who ogles people incessantly, that is. Those of you who do? Well, you can come to my academy, assuming you are female...

This was part of my Halloween costume this weekend past. I wore a suit and tie, carried a ruler, and I had a nice speech to open up my gig, naturally carried off in a bad impression of an uptight Brit. Hey, it sounded good enough for Monty Python, so it was good enough for me. And yes, I had a wayward girl or two with me over the weekend, to help fill out the whole costume's aura, as it were.

Here is a "short" excerpt:

Hello, and thank you all (all 3 of you) for coming out to tonights assembly performance. Please remain seated and be quiet during the performance. Come now, students, be seated.

My name is Jack Offenskeeton Baytor and I am Headmaster of the Bytch School Reformatory and Preparatory Acedemy for Wayward Girls. You will address me as simply Headmaster, Headmaster Baytor, or Master Baytor. You shall NOT address me by my first name or middle name or any combination thereof, thus, Jack Offenskeeton will not get my attention other than a resulting punishment for you.

Also, I hold the positions of 69, Minister of Punishment, and I am the Ladies Team Handball Coach, so I am not a stranger to DISCIPLINE. With that in mind, I have a few RULES to go over so that we may all enjoy a wonderful performance.

First (as I pulled out a cigarette and lit it), there will be absolutely NO SMOKING. (then to my wayward girl-> could you get us an ashtray, luv. Thank you)
Secondly (taking a swig off the beer in hand), there will be NO DRINKING without the pre-approval of the board, and not unless you also purchase me, or the performing artists, a drink as well.
etc etc...

And then I opened up the show with Spinal Tap's song, Bitch School. Hey, the people there thought it was hilarious... (but what do I know? I apparently have no sense of humor or wit, or so I have been recently told.)

I modified the picture just "slightly" while I was playing around with Photoshop and thought, what the hell? I don't have another pic to go around so, here you go, in all its edited glory:

Confused by HNT? Go see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of Osbasso.

So, it's finally over. The Great Pumpkin has passed us for the year and now back to our regular grind...

In case you didn't have any, here are 2 hand-carved pumpkins... nothing but steak knives at hand, we did the best we could...


This was my poor creation:
Mind you, my digital camcorder has no flash and I was trying to capture the lighting. Yes, not the best picture quality so I messed with it using Photoshop. Okay, so I'm no graphic artist, I'll grant that... I was hoping the guitar would be a bit more visible... ahh well.

This is the other pumpkin. Actually, there were more, but this was the only other one that wasn't somehow non-PG13 or otherwise offensive... Go figure. Teenagers, right?

Hope you had a great and safe Halloween.

And for those of you who care, it is now All Saints' Day.... so Happy All Saints' Day to youz.


Part 7 is on its way!! In part 7 you will read a verbal exchange that I particularly enjoyed, wherein one "out of shape" individual thinks he is being witty and insulting - a purely pot smack talking on the kettle situation - by calling yours truly, fat. ( This was most ausing... as it usually is whenever it happens.) Regardless of my (apparently only theoretical) desire to promote anonymity whence telling a tale, this tale will be told in technicolor with DTS Surround! There will be 4 cops, a minister, an angry mother, 2 brothers, a jeep, and a mustang all in one big twisted Redneck Hoo Ha mess coming soon to a blog near here... meaning this one.

REALLY.

Part 7 is on the way.

Seriously. For real for real this time.

Yeah, okay, so it was promised before... and yeah, I have 2 gigs this week and the day job and all that... yes, I know. I swear.

REALLY!

Happy All Saints Day!!
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Oh, apparently there was a complaint about there NOT being an email address to send comments, complaints, suggestions, and/or rants to. The profile has been edited to address this issue. See how I am taking care of all you lovely people?
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Happy blogging.
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