Ramblings of an Excitable & Misunderstood X-Mas Baby

New Adventures Part Cat...Foster Care

2012-01-24T06:21:00.000-08:00

I suppose this act could be construed as my eating crow amongst my friends. Michael says "Blah Blah I don't want/need a dog Blah Blah I don't want/need a new cat Blah". Pet sitting is pretty low-maintenance as long as the animal is chill, (ala' Deuce) and it affords me some quality animal time with the minimum of commitment (HELLO Telling Personal Character Trait!!! Ugh...). So I supposed it was naturally only a matter of time before we welcomed some form of filthy mongrel into our home for a longer period than a friend's vacation. And so today...Welcome to pet fostering!!! Say hello to...um...

Right. Puma and Cougar are a little bit shy.

Through the Jellybean's daughter, we ended up with a line on a pair of kitties that were needing a transitional home. She informed us that they were two boys, very low-key, and have been living alone while she visited them 2 x's a week for feeding/cleaning. After smoothing out the particulars, we agreed to take them on for the next few months. And so the last few weekends on the home front have been a flurry of activity. (The roommate, for those who know, spent about 28 hours over the course of two separate weekends laboriously cleaning his bedroom from top to bottom. For my part...I did some light vaccuuming/dusting and had a couple of beers.)

In case you're curious as to "how does it take that long to clean a room?"...let's just say I'm (slightly) certain he was trying to de-Georgeify the place- his concern being that since they are both male cats, they might get set off sniffing out another former kitty. (Albeit, one that hasn't been around in over 16 months) And that kiiinda was my concern as well, only not about the fact that there've been 2 different kitties in my house in my tenure. No, I was worried that the cats would become another casualty of their environment.

The 'Bean had a very specific and regimented way of caring for Georgie Cat. One that really didn't include catnip, treats (He kiboshed any treats, citing stomach issues) He'd stack boxes of kleenex set on top of high places to keep him from eating them...old plastic grocery bags kept locked away for the same reason. Very. Specific. So now, I made a point to tell him before they moved in that they were going to be our cats that we were fostering. And we would be sharing responsibility. Of that much, I actually put my foot down.

And so, without knowing what the hell they looked like...I came home last night to discover that there were two cats wedged beneath the fainting couch in the dining room. (One convalescing post-nut-snip-surgery) Cougar is the baby, at about 16-18 months. Puma is the shy guy with a squashy face and around 4 years or so.

And I hate their names. There, I said it. I don't care if they might be named after Big Cats...one sounds like the slang for an older woman on the prowl and the other is a lame Super-Villain...

My ability to bestow goofy nicknames notwithstanding, I'm going to need to have another sit-down with the Jellybean and see how flexible he could be with calling them something other than those heathen names. I made jokes about calling them "Arnold" and "Willis"...but it just doesn't fit. And the s#itty thing is that they're still pretty much hidden away so I don't know if they actually respond in some way to those names. Do I opt for witty and ironic? Weighty Historical names? Pop-Culture one-off's? Numbers? Something plain and easy...like "Barry" and "Carl"? "Frick and Frack"? This shit keeps me awake at night, people.

Regardless...I had a small victory early this morning while my roommate and I comically laid down on the floor in front of the divan to try coaxing them out. I managed to get Coug to come to me, and hold him, and give him his post-neutering prescription without a fuss. My roommie almost started crying. The second- smaller- victory is that even though Puma doesn't come out, he's got such a fat ass that it sticks out the corner of the couch. And so...I scratch it.

It's early. There've been no snuggles nor accidents. (My roommate moved just about everything that he assumed could be knocked over to the basement...this included my wine rack. I think another talk is in order. The basement is too far to go for Pinot Noir) Moreover and unfortunately, there'll be no pictures until they can drag their buns out for some quizzical exploration. I'm afraid you'll have to be happy with this...

And the fact that yes...I did procure a big old frassy bag of catnip and some Pounce...and those f#ckers love it. > : )

Reviews: "Cowboys Vs. Aliens" et.al.

2012-01-13T11:25:00.001-08:00

Available on DVD/Netflix/Redbox

"Cowboys and Aliens" is what happens when you're about to tuck into a beautiful hot fudge sundae with ice cream only to discover that it's mashed potatoes/gravy/meatloaf...and someone emptied a salt shaker all over it. And I actually sat through it. Bite, by mouth numbingly terrible bite.

All the elements are in place. From the title, the director, the stars, the concept. But, and this is a pretty trivial quibble but I want you to know it's about as obvious as a bad work-print: There were, like, 50 writers credited on this movie. It got to the point that someone would throw out a completely wasted non-sequiter line and I'd turn to my friend and say "I wrote that one. Me." Except even with my terrible grasp of syntax/spelling etc. could have hatched a better fever dream than this dreck. And that's where I think I'll leave this review, with some parting wisdom: Here are some cardinal rules/sins/points of frass that I live by when it comes to watching/enjoying movies. I'm an awfully simple man with simple tastes (I own "Undercover Brother" for pities sake) and I'm also fairly forgiving as well. (I own the Star Wars Prequels, Wolverine, AND X-Men 3 for pities sake) And along with the old addage "Don't Bore Me" and "Don't Bait And Switch your Genre Movie" I'd like to add one that sounds like it was farted out by a matronly schoolteacher:

Don't waste all of that potential. I'm not mad. I'm just...disappointed.

Not quite a full "MacGruber" (0/5) but hangs out with "Green Lantern" (1.5/5)

(Quick bites! Smartly planned Moviethon Trifecta: "36th Chamber of Shaolin", "Lone Wolf & Cub", and "Kill Bill: Vol. 1/Vol. 2" All available on Netflix)

You ever take the time to stalk out the films where you hear s#it like "Such and Such is a GREAT film, but borrows heavily from 'Blah' and 'Blah de Blah'..." You know what I mean. Tarantino is shamelessly honest about it. Lucas is famously known for it. And this reinforces my old man's assertion that there are "No New Original Ideas In Hollywood". (An idea I don't really share, but I like bellowing his little idiom's from time to time)

Having seen both "Bill" movies and knowing the background/where he bogarted the ideas- you'd think I'd have seen some of the original source material that have been cited by the filmmaker previously. No so. As a matter of fact, my knowledge of old chop sockey Kung Fu and Samurai Films is fairly incomplete. And for good reason. Sure, I've seen quite a few: (My friend AL and I talked about how USA Network had their version of "Kung Fu Theater"- Which replaced the Horror Film block of time "Groovy Movies".) and I've seen every Bruce Lee and most early Jackie Chan...as well as their knock-offs. (In addition to some bloody, bloody Samurai films)

What I can say is that I've never went through the entire Shaw or Kurosawa filmography and haven't felt too terrible for having missed them. They all tend to blend homogenously together in my mind and in spite of popular cult followings, I wouldn't be able to tell one from another if I was paid to.

That said, I added "36th Chamber" and "Lone Wolf" after poking through a wiki article about "Kill Bill" and finally got around to watching them. As a back to back to back piece, it actually lends itself to an entertaining afternoon/evening of cinema. Truth.

"36th" (Gordon Liu's debut) is your typical "dude gets his village impinged on, goes to the kung fu temple to learn, learns, becomes the best, goes back to his village and kicks ass" kind of film that we've all seen before- With the exception that it was actually one of the first to use the formula. There are some awesome "HOOO BOY HELL YEAH" moments in it, specifically during his training through the chambers. HOWever, my own hubris was that subsequent movies that copy the formula have done it a lot better. The kung fu is painfully slow, the bloodletting is obnoxiously bright, and the repetitive nature can get a little boring. (There's only so many times you can watch someone try to run across logs to cross a body of water- then fall in- before it gets old)

That's not to say it's a bad movie. Rather silly if you think about it. (And probably better after a couple of shots or beers.) What IS interesting is seeing exactly HOW shameless QT was in stealing some of the cooler parts of "KB I & II" with their embryonic counterpart in "36th". (The training montage with Pei Mei, carrying the water, the 1-inch punch and body conditioning etc? All there.)

"Lone Wolf" (based on the Manga series of the same name) tells the story of a Shogunate executioner who was framed for a crime he didn't commit and, having been stripped of his post, goes wandering the countryside with his 3-year-old son Daigoro as an assassin for hire in order to reclaim vengeance on those who wronged them.

Okay, so it's a bit more complicated than that plot-wise. What you do get is about 85 minutes of tense action and some of the most unbelievably amazing sword fighting and displays of Japanese weaponry committed to film. The actor playing Lone Wolf/Itto barely registers an emotion for the entire film, only occasionally showing happy/sad (he usually wears a constipated grimace) and when he is finally goaded to action (either by circumstances or his own machinations) it is worth the time holding your breath leading up to it.

My only major gripes is that you can tell that it was part of a larger story ("Sword of Vengeance" is only one in a roughly 6 part film series) and my DVD had some sound/coloring issues. Worth noting are some of the special features which feature a preview for "Zatoichi the Outlaw"...by far the funniest 5 minute trailer that you've ever seen.) When you watch the sword work in "Lone Wolf", re-watch "KB: I" for the House of Blue Leaves fight or "KB: II" for the trailer fight scene. You'll get it. You'll get deja vu all over again.

So if you have an afternoon and evening to kill, you could do far worse than watching this film quadrology with friends.

2012 Fitness Regime!

2012-01-04T10:07:00.000-08:00

Righto! Fourth-a, Fourth-a, Fourth-a January and it's about time to come clean with the new regime! I mentioned that I was going to try a few new things to shake up my aging carcass in terms of health/wellness and new things it shall be. (It's here that I feel it encumbent to point out that one of the many reasons I don't make the typical resolutions is that I feel fairly okay with the fact that I have exercised and ate right for the last several years. That's not a bragging point, mind. Clearly it's not turned me into an Adonis or challenged me in the way my running workouts have, you know?)

Anyway, we're breaking things down anew this year and as I pointed out earlier I've got a whole new bag of old-cheap moves to try out on myself in 2012. And it starts with chucking the current routine and embarking on something a little more ambitious than I've been accustomed to but hopefully (after a 1-2 month attempt) may start to prove results. And it actually starts by keeping the weight routine pretty simple by attacking the body 1 piece at a time.

(Routine bogarted from the December 2011 Muscle and Fitness)

The weight routine works similarly to a circuit routine, minus hitting all body parts during the same workout. For my part, I've been engaging in moderate (in both frequency and intensity) "super-sets" for the better part of the last 6-7 months. From a time-saving standpoint, it isn't really a bad workout and moreover it's great for being able to tax two contrasting muscle groups that work opposite each other for maximum affect. Problem is? I'm a little stuck right now.

So, the new work-out will be incorporating tenets of both bodybuilding and sports/strength-training by following a "6 on-1 off approach". (Focusing on working one body part, once a day, six-days in a row. The LEGS get special attention* with one light and lastly one heavy workout day before your final day of rest.) This goes on for 3-4 weeks before a rest week and the resuming. If I'm not feeling peachy or I don't look dead-nasty sexy with my clothes off (or have dropped 10-15 consistent pounds. I'll take either) Then I'll shuck it and look into a new routine. I might even try throwing in the occasional "century"** workout too.

In short:
Sun- Arms (Bicep/Tricep/Forearm)
Mon- Off
Tues- Legs (light)
Wed- Moobs (Chest)
Thurs- Back
Fri- Shoulders
Sats- Legs (heavy)***

Ambitious? Yes! However I've a bit of free time for the next...for a bit, and if I can continue this sans distraction I'm hoping for some palpable results. (Also, I'll be able to take my time with the equipment. Supersets are great, but as soon as you get your ass off a bench to go switch exercises SOMEone will be bound to swoop in your place. And hey! The time saved will be about the same since I'm focusing on one body part versus two.)

But...but Michael?!?! Where's all the RUN-ning bulls#it you've been boring us with?!?! Funny that- I'm in the middle of my 3rd draft of an article to submit to "RW" magazine on my own journey (and the help I've received from friends) of becoming someone who enjoys distance running. Does that mean I'm done racing? Mmmmmnahh. I'm still on the fence whether I'm planning on entertaining thoughts of Grandma's Glory (I'm pretty sure I'd be crew-less. Not a big deal, but I don't know if running w/o moral support from buddies so far away from my home base is something I'm ready for)

Anyway, for the 1st quarter of 2012 I plan on dialing it back a bit. I'm getting new kicks to break in, but I don't plan (really) doing any runs in excess of 6 miles - at the longest- and possibly doing the 5 weeks on- 1 week off (or reduced mileage to 20-30% of my "normal" miles---which has been floating around 20-30 miles a week. Weird.) Anyway, I'll still be logging my mileage on Dailymile and Mapmyrun. LOOK OUT! Chugga-Chugga-Chugga. One of the bigger things is I plan on dragging my ass outside to start finding new and wonderful places- in state and out- to go hike/run. I think 2011 was criminally under-hiked. There, I said it. Ground must be pounded.

My martial goals are fairly simple: Black belt. Nearly 15 years at it means no excuses, and my biggest motivator right now is "Don't beat yourself up (snerk) if you miss one night. Just go consistently- weekly- and build up your skills, strength, and abilities until you get it." Easy, huh? I started in Mid-to-Early November and gave myself a (loose) 1-Year goal. I started once a week, bumping up to twice a week. I've ordered new sparring shoes and a bo, and have already sewn and re-sewn repairs on my uniforms. When my gear arrives, I fight. Easy. I might even toss a tourney or two in there. Might. Again, nothing more ambitious with karate besides my immediate 12-month plan.

As for food, I'm keeping it the same: Light meals, mostly vegetarian. Lots of vegetables, fruits, brown rice, quinoa. Work lunches are going to still be spinach salad w/legumes and a hearty light soup. I've taken to keeping nuts and low-fat cheese around the house to keep the edge off if I get peckish. I'm still drinking 1.5 gallons of water a day and I have NO intention of giving up my 2-3 cups of coffee. So there.

That's it. No pictures to be posted, before or after. I WILL try to be more diligent with the statuses and I'll let y'all know how it goes!

*I've tried to synch up my leg workouts to coincide w/karate. It's a great warm up and with a few near-miss classes that felt like I snapped my hamstring, I found out later that getting on the machinery has helped get some of my flexibility (and speed) back. On leg days, I'll also be choosing a different aerobic post-weight workout like the bike or elliptical.

**I tried this with my last chest/back super-set before New Years...and wow. Try doing 1 resistance exercise per body part (2 if you're into masochism) and do 1 set for 100 reps. Yup. Light enough that you can count to 100 doing bench presses, squats, bicep curls, crunches...name it. I could barely lift my arms. Good as a once and a while deal.

***As my high school conditioning coach would say to me: MIKE! DO YER SQUATS!!! If you aren't doing open squats...even on a Smith Machine- do it. Best damn exercise to get better at IMO. More so than the hack sled, nautilus , inverted squat rack...you name it.

"Best of 2011 Lis...Wait"

2012-01-03T07:55:00.000-08:00

I just frassed through the last few January's since I started this dumb blog and most of my previous New Year scribblings have been personal reviews. B#tching about being drunk or my weight or blah blah blah...For that, I'm sorry. Really, truly. And as a guy that doesn't make resolutions that much any more, that'll be one of the last times I attempt to be an apologist. As a definition of character as I creep up on my 4th decade, I kind of think I just need to get back to nutting up and shutting up and standing by certain convictions. Prevent myself from seeming wimby wimby on matters. So my desire for 2012, if not resolve, is to spend some time digging deep into my character to see if there are areas of growth that I can learn from and hopefully make me calmer hanging out in my own skin. (I do that a lot. And by "skin" I mean "head". And we all know that my head space is a very, very messy place to kick it.

2011, for what it's worth...felt like a really strange fever dream. Like how your eyes feel after having been in a pool for hours. Or the feeling you think treading water in an ocean must be like after the Indianapolis has sunk and right before the PBY picks you out of the water- It sucks, but at least you didn't get eaten by a shark. Nothing really, really bad happened this year to frass about on a personal level. I can tell you all as subjectively and honestly as I can that 2011 just really wasn't my favorite year. Or rather, it wasn't until the last few months or so that I really started to feel something of a shift in the world that was palpable and controllable. And that gave me a smidgen of comfort.

I'm starting off 2012 by listing a few of my favorite things from 2011 in addition to some things that warranted our either our disdain/disgust/wrath or our accolades and attention. For those that know me...some of these topics will wind up being about as political as I ever tend to get- and even my politicking will be as bland and generic as ketchup. As always, if I didn't see your gig it doesn't mean it wasn't the best...I just don't see a f#ck ton of theater. I'm trying to change that a bit...BUT NO APOLOGIES!!!! NONE!

Ahem:

Personal Best's: I managed to run 3 half-mary's, two 10K's, (And PR every time). I moved to a vegetarian dominated diet. I didn't over-over spend for the year. I lost weight, avoided hard alcohol, picked up a really enjoyable (knock on wood) new job, performed in 3 shows (and met some great new people. AND did a musical...AND a well-attended Fringe Show.), saw my first Twins game in the new stadium, went camping at the same Kampground, kept up the garden and transformed the back forty into the start of something pretty, threw a quiet raging party, began a noble slumber on my tempurpedic bed, went to Vegas for work, grew an EPIC beard, started hitting karate regularly, had a great birthday, went to some amazing new restaurants, and did some home projects that went outside of my comfort zone. Oh, and I finally got myself a new phone. I stiiiiill love technology...

Ehhhhh...that sucks: I worked some s#itty...s#itty temp jobs that started to drag me down to a level of lip-biting anxiety that nearly bested me. I got mega-sized sick for the first time in 15 years and lost my voice- awesome when you're in a musical. Had some car kerfluffles/break-downs and needed new tires. I lost my driver's liscense in Vegas. I busted my central a/c playing with a roto-tiller forcing me to undergo a few unwanted expenses...and finished up late Fall/early Winter with some really soul-dislodging news.

People/Things in 2011 that warranted a big thumbs up:

The "Occupy" protestors. Lean whatever way you want to politically. Bitch about how they only had a few hardships to endure and it's nowhere NEAR how awful it is in other parts of the world...but: We, as a nation, can still make a lot of noise when we want to. And it was here, Minny. And it'll take a select few hermits who won't know the difference between the 1%/99%. That much was made clear. And good on those who did it.

My friends and family. I get that this is a blanket statement, but hear me out- My mom...who went outside of her own comfort zone to volunteer and keep volunteering at the theater. To taking charge of and actively working to pimp out her antiquities like a 21st century Marcus Brodey. My brother and his family- raising two of the most adorable and wickedly funny children. For surviving a corporate downsizing and move. And for continuing to be an example of responsibility, respect, and loyalty to the rest of us.

My extended family...we managed to get through '11 without any death's, thank the Gods. My uncle managed to survive his heart surgery. My aunt/uncle on the West Coast found newer (better) employment in sunny San Diego. My cousins remained focused and entreprenuerial.

My friends who had the babies. There were sooooo many babies. Like, 500 babies. And they'll probably all be good at sports. And great parents all...

My friends who found new, exciting, and challenging work.

My friends who (A) ran with me. There support and energy kept me moving forward. Who (B) ran either their first marathon (an amazing event, btw) or their first half- it was a year for friends to push themselves into something new. And lastly who (C) started to take up running/fitness routines to frame their own personal fitness goals: Whether it was for rehabilitative purposes, health, weight-loss...There were so many people on F'Book who started an affair with the treadmill and it just made my heart happy every time I would read their status.

My friends who moved/bought houses/bigger boats...

My friend AL who got himself a hairy stepson in the form of Deuce.

My roommate. After we talked about how he's staying for the immediate future, he has consistently proven to be a solid and stand-up man. You should meet him. Or at the very least, introduce him to any single lady-friends.

My neighborhood. I've hermited a lot in 2011, so it's nice NE Mipples has a metric f#ck ton of options regarding restaurants and things to do. Heidi's was my favorite surprise of 2011, but I'm still in love with my neighborhood after 7 years. M'wah.

As an actron/power nerd I'd be so very, very remiss if I didn't say Craiggles and Anna getting their Ivey dues, the fantastic productions of "August: Osage County" at Park Square and "Street Scene" w/Girl Friday...man. I saw some beautiful intimate shows/performances (and some amazingly fun/smiley confections ala' "Mercy Watson" and "Hairspray") but the ensemble work moved these productions into a higher pantheon of shows I'll be digesting and talking about for a while. Shows and performances that make me want to be a better actor myself. Yeah.

The casts of "Joseph", "12 Angry", and "Knit et.al"...well I think I lucked out. I really really did. And had a great time during every show.

And for my final note: Thank you, movie studios. Thank you for putting out the kind of nerdy, fantastic fare that we've been waiting for and heaping it on. I'm talking to you, Marvel. Tell DC that "Batman" isn't their only property and that they should NEVER have cocked up "Green Lantern" like they did. AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!!!

People who should be taken down a notch from 2011: Politicians. Just. Ohhhh...f#ck it. Here's the thing, and this is real and the truth- We elect people to make decisions for us, and preferably in our best interest. And...and they just sit their idly and have to shut down the fucking gov't just to make a decision? I really could give a shit on the details- people lost jobs. Work. Activities meant to stimulate local (seasonal) business were shut down. So here's a thought: Stay open. Work overtime. Because it's what the rest of us schlubs are forced to do. And usually the word "mandatory" comes before it. I'd hate to think we're impeding tee time.

And if, if I hear about how so and so raised $x million dollars on a campaign...I'm liable to slam my head in a door. I need that money too. More than you! I need a bathroom and garage! You want elected? Prove you can do something. Better yet, prove you can do it on a budget...like the rest of us. And fix my tub.

MN Sports teams. You whiney little grundles. Win some f#cking games for a change. Use the Lynx as your shining example if you need to. Ish, ish, ish...

F'Book. Stop changing every five minutes. You're infuriating. And terrible for we ADHD sufferers.

Bacon. Enough. Yuck. Same with Breakfast. "Most important meal of the day" my ass. You're giving a complex to lunch, second breakfast, and dinner.

Movie Review: The Robber (2010)

2011-12-30T10:44:00.000-08:00

(*Mild Spoiler Warnings)

I've been watching kung-fu/chop-sockey movies for a long, looooong time. Since getting into karate years ago, I found that I could establish a new appreciation for how the respective martial art forms translate (usually into pretty s#itty movies) onto the big screen. Now if we wanted to strike up a parallel, you probably couldn't get me to draw the same conclusion about running movies. While running/distance running/recreational (and Olympic) racing can been found onscreen for years as a plot device ("Chariots of Fire", "Personal Best", both "Prefontaine" movies...including the one with Crudup and the other one with Jordan Catalano come to mind), those films tend to fall in the "dull" category of "sports films".

Then we have movies dealing with a character "running" running and...yeah, I've frassed about good running in movies before. (Franke Potente does it RIGHT in "Run Lola Run", Matt Damon in the "Bourne" movies, Daniel Craig as "Bond", the Mayan's in "Apocalypto"...say what you will about Mel, but he runs well in movies ala' "Lethal Weapon 2" and directs good running. The same, however, can not be said about Mr. Steven "Flippers" Seagal. It's true)

As another parallel, I didn't start noticing running (i.e. how people run) in movies universally until I started distance/race training. (See "Apocalypto") Because let's face it: A movie with people karate chopping people in the face to advance the plot is infinitely more rewarding than a movie about watching Marathon after Marathon. (Pleeeease, don't get me wrong- it's important to WATCH races live as I've already established. The cheering is brilliant. The concept of it onscreen, though is akin to watching "Manos" over and over.)

Since I 1st heard of this movie I was very curious, and it took me a while to get it in my queue line so that I could enjoy it on my big screen- And I was presented with a first: An enjoyable and wholly satisfying heist thriller that uses running as the through line. I just said that.

Based on the true life exploits of the Austrian Bank Robber "Shotgun Ronnie" aka Johann Kastenberger, it tells the tale of a marathon runner who is released from prison only to start back on a criminal path as soon as he's released. His M.O. includes wearing a Ronald Reagan mask and knocking over multiple banks at a time- by running from bank to bank. Yes. In the meantime, he keeps up his alibi by setting numerous Austrian marathon records including a mountain Mary.

There were quite a few things that endeared me to the movie from the start. When we first meet Johann, he's running circles in the prison courtyard wearing technical gear and a Garmin. (Nice prison, btw) When called back to his cell, he resumes running on a treadmill (REALLY Nice prison, btw.) Immediately after release and meeting w/his parole officer- he knocks over a bank. (This happens w/in the first 8 minutes). Eventually he hooks up with an old female friend and starts a romantic relationship with her, all while training, winning marathons, and knocking over multiple banks. As you can imagine, his world begins to squeeze in on him as soon as she finds out about his double-life.

Interspersed throughout the movie are wonderfully filmed running scenes. Whether it's an sprint to escape across a field/park, training in front of a running club, volunteering as a guinea pig for a shoe firm to test his stride/bloodwork for extra money, crossing numerous finish lines- it's a fairly accurate depiction of the life of a dedicated and serious distance runner. (A favorite scene is after robbing a bank he's removing his telemetry strap and plugs it into his laptop to gauge his heart rate before, during, and after the robbery to see if there were areas for improvement.)

Since this is a drama, it should be said that the ending is more "Heat" than "The Town" (although his mask evokes images from that similar film) but at a little over 90 minutes it clips along at a brisk pace (PUN!) without dragging out unnecessary exposition. He is who he is, and can't stop himself from being who he is as much as he wouldn't be able to stop himself from running.

Highly recommended thriller/heist movie, but especially to runners of anything ranging from a 5K to an Ultra.

(The Robber is currently available on Netflix Streaming)

4.5/5

Make your early heart-healthy resolution!

2011-12-20T06:05:00.000-08:00

(Article attached below) When I'm treadmillin', if I'm not running lines or plugged into the local news/Jeopardy I'll occasionally grab a magazine from the gym courtesy shelf by the exercise bikes. Mostly it's to cover the 'mill monitor (I dislike constantly knowing my time/mileage if I'm doing a long-ish dreadmill run. I'll occasionally peek to see where I am, but mostly it's a better motivator for me to concentrate on running form or listen to "S-words for $400, Trebek!") Magazines just aren't easy to read on the 'mill...typically failing in staying open unless you're just walking.

I grabbed the most recent Musclemag International (One of the rags I used to subscribe to in my youth. This one had a vein-y moose-y guy on the cover advertising "bigger delts just by sitting down!!!") and after about 3 miles or so I decided to start flipping through the advertisments (of which, 3/4th's of the magazine is comprised) bodybuilding workouts (of which...okay, I confess I might try one starting in January. Details to follow.) And found a list of articles called "Muscle Bites" (whatever. I don't work creative for the rag, okay?) and in it, there were the monthly doses of wisdom/random fitness facts- one of which prompted me to bogart the article from the magazine, research some of the facts, and post it here today.

(Sources cited. I found this particular article fascinating since it falls within conversations I've had recently with some other gym-rat buddies- not necessarily argumentative, mind you. I just like the simple logic behind it. And the American Journal of Physiology. Natch. Enjoy.)

DUST OFF THE RUNNING SHOES (Musclemag Dec 2011 issue, in "Muscle Bites")

Although studies have shown weight training increases metabolism and therefore helps to burn calories longer after a workout, researchers at Duke University Medical Center (Durham, NC) conducted an 8-month study that found aerobic exercise (such as jogging) is better than resistance training for losing belly fat in particular. Aerobic training greatly reduce visceral and liver fat (found in the abdomen), improving risk factors for heart disease and other health problem, whereas weight training alone didn't.

Aerobic exercise burns 67% more calories than weight training.

Source: American Journal of Physiology , published 8/16/2011

Please note: This was included with other "bites" including "Daily Exercise Reduces the Risk of Death" and another article advising to speed your metabolism w/Hot Peppers.

Farewell to Grundlepusses...

2011-12-09T05:52:00.001-08:00

Deuce Castle: The Punisher. (We watched "Punisher: War Zone" last night. A crazy, crazy movie- btw. Not "bad". Just..."Crank" level crazy. Also, my pacifist charge did not want to pose with said replica gun. Good boy.)

Today will mark the end of my dog-sitting posts. It's been a fun test-drive for a while, however I'm looking forward to getting back to routine over the Holidays with the last month or so having been a roller-coaster of sorts. It'll also serve as a explanation as to why I'm far from a suitable candidate for pet ownership of any sort. (Seriously? There seems to be this unspoken arbitrary concept that if you have a yard, and own a home? You need a pet. This, friends, is just not the case with me.)

So...did you guys know that I work out? Yeah yeah...so one of the dumb things I usually don't riff about here is the non-run/karate/weight-centric stuff that comprises my morning "routine". Almost every work day morning, in lieu of coffee I try and stretch out and do core work and push-ups. (Skipping the crunches/leg lifts at the gym saves time. And if you aren't doing your ab work- do. After 20 years, I figured out that I actually notice when I my "center" is getting weak...and not just "flabby")

Deuce...has hindered that a bit. By way of saying he lays across my chest or puts his paw on my forehead. Or tries to crawl under my body. And pushing him away actually encourages him. I'd like to think he's playing "personal trainer", but it's actually kind of a nuisance.

And that's...that's just a small part of it. It's "cute" when he sleeps in my bed but he's a hog. There's also the responsibility. I've been flying solo this last month and in getting used to being "alone" means I need to acclimate myself to the concept of what my day to day is going to be like. To "ride the waves" and just see how and where life carries me. Dig? Every day this week I've been scampering home like a wombat to let him out, getting up earlier to feed him, get him his specialty food. Oh, and the cost. I'm a floater with out a large amount of disposable income, and what income I do have? I want to/like to travel. (Have you any IDEA how expensive dog food is? Moda's cat food with the noble cougar on the bag was like taking out a 2nd mortgage whenever you had to hit Petsmart!) Not to mention vet visits, emergencies, shots, other pets, "walkies".

Lastly...'nother little known fact? I'm a neatnik. Ever since first setting out on my own it's been my "thing". Make the bed. Hang up the clothes. Vacuum/Dust regularly. Make sure the sinks empty at night etc. (RECESSIVE GENE? RECESSIVE GENE!!!) And the things that I've never been a huge fan of regarding pets involve de-linting, de-pooping (either the backyard or a cat box) and trying to keep foul smells to a minimum. So I guess that goes for both pets and babies. ZING!

See, outside of girlfriends/roommates? I've never "owned" a pet of my own. With Georgie Teh Kitteh, I had a Jellybean roommate who was (if you can believe it) more obsessive with the maintenance of the beast than even I could ever be. (If you ever saw his daily morning routine...of how he fed him. Cleaned the box daily, including getting down on his hands and knees to hand-sweep into a dustbin any residual litter...well it's actually fairly inspired.) And with the Deuce, while it's nice that the Bean has volunteered daily to be on dog-walking detail for both of their benefit? It's not something I can rely on the day-to-day. Nor would I impose that on him. Without the Bean, I'd have been running home over lunch to let him out.

Soooo...yeah. The few benefits I've glommed this week are that he's a low-key dog who doesn't bark and has good fur...and my roommate likes taking him for the occasional walk to meet chicks. My dressing him in funny poses makes me a weirdo versus a quality pet owner.

So that's that. I'm good for pet-sitting, to be sure. And I'm good with animals. But like with babies, I like to be able to give them back and return to my peaceful albeit frassy day-to-day. Couple that with a streak of worry-wortness. Mea Culpa, yo.

For your benefit, and for those aminal (sp?) lovers out there who've enjoyed seeing the hootenanny hijinks of one Mssr. Deucalion, I leave you with photos my roommate took of him frolicking at the dog park. Say buh-bye, Deuce-y! Hep Hep Hep Hep HEP!!!

This is my stick. There are many other sticks like it, but this one is mine.

Frolic and romp. The Jellybean was a little nonplussed with the park, citing that it was a "sausage-fest". I don't get it? Doggeh's love snausages. (I told him to try a Saturday or Sunday if he wishes to see the lovelies...or drive him to Minnehaha)

The Bean mentioned a brief panicky stare down when the pointer down there gave in to his baser instincts and growled at the Deuce. An intervention occurred.

King of the Hill?

King. Of. The. M##herF##king Hill. Beeeeeeyotch.

Come back! Come BACK, Deuce!!! Deuce...Don't GO!!!

Au Revoir, pal. See you on Adam's couch. Or when he goes out of town and doesn't want to pay for a pet hotel. ; )

Deuce Bigelow

2011-12-08T05:33:00.000-08:00

Deuce Hefner, in robe and 1974 Pl'boy..."Well hello, young lady. You look very lovely tonight and- say...are you over 18 and want to get into modelling?" Sorry ladies. He's a eunuch, but a helluva cuddler.

Tonight was another gym procrastinator while I scampered home to inspect my charge. The roommate was home and homeworkin' but informed me they went on an "Epic" walk and made an impromptu visit to Redwright before heading home. We discussed a potential dog-park visit on the weekend during the daylight hours, both of us still holding on to our reservations about it not being our dog and what would happen if "something" were to happen... (It was here that he gave me another tip that if he was out on a walk? And it was a female dog-walker? He'd stop and chat. If it they were male? He'd scamper across the street or turn around. He's a scoundrel.)

In lieu of a gym visit and to tucker him out I went on a 2 mile jaunt myself around the parkway. My original intent was a dog-park visit-swear- but it's been dipping down in the single-digits and frankly? My hairy step-brother was having a better time of it than I was. I considered taking him on a run, but chickened out. Sue.

And when we got home, it was treats and cuddlin to the Robert Altman classic "McCabe and Mrs. Miller". (A movie where prostitution is a theme. Hence the jerry-rigged pimp outfit on the Deuce) The film, I have nothing to say about since we both started falling asleep about an hour in. Better than NyQuil, that Altman. To all my insomniatic friends? You're welcome.

My dinner with Deuce're...

2011-12-07T05:15:00.001-08:00

Pictured: The grundler keeps the backyard varmint-free. He also piddled in the area where I planted asparagus...which, for some reason, I find ironic and hilarious.

Fact the first: In the winter time I bring my gym bag with me to work so that it doesn't freeze in my car. (Anyone dressing at the gym after their gear has spent 8 hours in a subzero car knows how much trying to put on frozen clothing sucks) The logic is that I can go from work to the gym and BOOM done. Workout accomplished.

Fact the second: I suck at this and invariably wind up going home. In the sweeter months it's fine- I usually can just run early in the a.m. or after work on a beautiful day. Or both. I'm easy. But after a long-ass day I tend to drift toward finding excuses to go straight home. (Not to be too self-loathing, the excuses are easier when I have a gig or event to attend. Or karate. Natch. Or...)

I HAVE A DEUCE-EXCUSE! Yes, I found myself barrelling home and bypassing the gymnasium in order to attend his Grundlyness. Fortunately, my roommate has taken on the task of being the daytime sitter- I fielded a remarkable number of texts from him over lunch letting me know that he has time to come home between work and school and take him for a walk. (His alterior motive was admitted in his last text, whereas he said that maybe he'll meet another single female dog-walker out in the world...and I'm fine with that. Go get'em!)

It's pretty amazing how low-key this guy is. AL told me that he's low-maintenance and he wasn't kidding. Treats and snoozin'? Snoozin' and treats...and he's good. No chewing shoes. No piddlin/poopin in the house when left alone. No barkin'. The only concession is that he knows "out" and where "out" is. (At his home at the lofts, "out" time means crossing through the building to the common dog area. At the casa, he's very aware that the back door is the out door. And he'll sit and look frassy at the door, tail a-wagging...and he just came in 2 minutes previously)

Still, he loves the backyard. Plenty of smells, plenty of sticks, and plenty of squirrels. If I wasn't such a chicken shit (of other dogs, not him) I'd meander down to the St. Anthony dog park. Except...see the aforementioned laziness. AND the fact that it was MOVIE NIGHT!

And today's episode ends on the couch with Smashburger black bean burger (soooo good), shared sweet potato fries (wow. wow wow wow.) and "Conan the Barbarian". (1981. Deuce really loved the score.) Also...we've discovered the bed. Just...just see below.

Black bean burger- not a reconstituted patty, mind- and sweet tater fries. Notice half the cup is missing? That was NOT me. You're welcome, Grundlepuss.

I'm in ur bedz! Sleepin' on the diagonal! (Taken in pitch black. Surprise!)

I will NO be moved...oh, wait...did you say O-U-T? If I must...but I can't...the bed...she is too warm.

Waitaminnit...you said this movie was in 3D? You sleep on a bed of LIES, sir!

Squirrels? Not on my watch...

Oh...hello Doggie.

2011-12-06T05:57:00.000-08:00

Hey. Hey! This rope ain't gonna tug itself!

A conversation from back in September:

"You need a dog"

"What?"

"You need an old jazz dog"

"I don't need a dog"

"Dude. You have a yard"

"That I don't want filled with dogshit"

"Whatever. You need a dog"

Sighs...

Meet "Deuce". He isn't mine. He belongs to a jazz musician. However, while said musician is doing musical things in NYC this week I will be cataloging our time together for lack of any other blogworthy material. (I've begun hunker-down mode for the winter, and if I bore your teets off with karate/work-out kerfluffles I fear that my 2 readers would bail) This may or may not include some fanTAStic pictures...he very much likes to wear hats. So:

Deuce-bag was dropped off with instructions. He's been fed. Acclimated to the backyard. And snuffled my bed to claim his spot. However, I was abandoned around 11pm when my roommate came home and he had a new hand to pet him. Then I found out he's staked a claim on the loveseat in the TV room. Which means my previously imagined scenario of he and I being BFF's for the next 4 nights...watching "Sex in the City" and eating tacos? Nope.

He does like sweet potato fries. And ice cream. HEP HEP HEP HEPPPP!!!

Title Wave

2011-11-14T11:15:00.000-08:00

I really had to write something about this movie. It wouldn't go away, it's simply that affecting. And unless you missed the class on sarcasm in junior high, the reason I viewed this trainwreck of a movie- streaming..and in fast-forward- was because my friend D-Gangs made a comment regarding a streaming snafu he experienced: "I was trying to watch the 90's action flick 'Blown Away' starring Jeff Bridges and Tommy Lee Jones on Netflix instant last night, Instead I got a Corey's soft core flick."

What Davey's error meant, was that he sat through some of this:

Nicole Eggert, channeling pre-"Clueless" Alicia Silverstone in 1992. Haim just looks plain stoned.

With this:

In 1994, it was okay to believe that Tommy Lee Jones could passably play an IRA bomber, complete with Irish accent...that he ordered from a box of Lucky Charms. To be fair, Bridges tries to affect his own later in the movie, but it's so bad. Not even "good" bad. SUCKS! Of course, the similarity in the box art could be confusing. Could have been worse...could have been a remake of "Blow Dry"...

I had to...had to write an article

Can you believe we live in a world that shakes it's head collectively when LiLo gets sent to jail for 5 hours? Harder still to believe that, with audiences salivating over the closing saga of "Twilight" and who's team would you be on, young performers were generally relegated to the kind of passing interest that we save for Victoria's Secret ads on the side of a moving bus. Which is to say, rarely were the teens in these movies hung with the microscopic fascination we do these days.

Because for the kajillion boyfriends/best friends in the back ground of a 80's/90's feature film who get quickly forgotten (where- if fate allows- they can reinvent themselves on a successful sit-com television in the 2000's...maybe even an Oscar!) we had a handful of teen heartthrob actrons that spent weeks on the covers of teeny-bopper magazines and seemed, you could believe, that they'd be on top of the world forever! Riding trends, fads, clothing styles, haircuts like they were a luck-dragon...befriending famous pop music stars or professional athletes and directors. Drugged and drunken Tomfoolery was passed off as "exhaustion" and could quickly be glossed over for bigger grown-up stars problems, while Drew Barrymore was posing for Playboy to restore her "cred". (And let's not forget the perpetual f#ck up, Robert D Jr. He had yet to prove his talent and become the shining example of talent and redemption he went on to embody 2, 3, 5 x's over until he was almost washed up. Even River Phoenix had another year left in him)

And then we have the Corey's...His Haimliness and Feldman. And folks, for someone who has a HUGE soft spot for "The Lost Boys", "The Goonies", and even to a lesser extent "License to Drive" and "Dream A Little Dream" (if only because the latter was on HBO in rotation every two hours, you just couldn't get away from it, or from the stupid "James Dean" song from the soundtrack. Or that could just be foreshadowing. Annnnyway)

It's not every day we get a movie that will capture the hubris and downfall of a pair of, if not talented, at least popular actors of their day. If you think about it, the balancing act of hopefulness and reality was petering out at the end of the 80's. The 90's pushed in a major event during the time of this film's release: Sharon Stone's pubic hair. By presenting audiences with hard, violent crime films (not gritty, mind you, unless we're still talking about her merkin) we were shuffling off the teen heart throb image that was so popular in the 80's and looking for real people. (And many of these heart throbs were heading to the small screen anyway.) And let's face it...The Corey's were getting older. And since we were still a minute or two away from the mid-90's that would usher in the quiet "Independent Film Drama" that allowed many "stars" to pursue projects that challenged them as actors, and hopefully created a renaissance for audiences to accept that they could move past their old images.

Except I'm pretty sure these two burn boys just read a draft from their agent which made them think it was all going to be love scenes and 8-balls...Hoooooeeeee. Poor bastards. Where to begin? (It's here that I need to point out that I barely made it past the opening credits before realizing I made a horrible mistake. Since I had a real acting event to attend...you know...a "play"? I ended up fast forwarding it so that it pretty much lasted all of 22 minutes. Still. Too long)

The problem isn't the plot, which is stupid. (17 year old rich girl seduces Haim in order to convince him to kill her dad...when it's implied that her dad may have killed her mom. Feldman is around to trade name-calling with Haim. Nicknames like "clown nuts" and "dick nose". Honestly, this was the dialogue that spoke to me the most, since it's the way I talk to my best friend. Except...you know...we didn't go scouting high school chicks parties when we were 24 years old- I mean did I mention she's supposed to be under-age? And that's a good thing?)

Anyway, what acts as a depressing time-capsule is how both of those dudes, who're at the ripe age of 21 in 1993 (or 1992 when they might've filmed it) looked like 37 year old burn-outs. It doesn't look it...in their body language, interacting with each other as "buds", or when they take their clothes off (which they both do. A lot. As does Ms. Eggert. Which makes it difficult at times to differentiate during the awkward writhing love scenes between she and "The Haim", since he still has that downy physique of a 14 year old anorexic. Here's a hint- she's wearing a gallon of spray tan.) It's just when we first see them try to play themselves out at a party, they invariably do look like the sad older dudes who get up at weddings to dance along with the hip cool sounds of the early 80's while the younger crew waits at the corner of the dance floor staring stupidly while THEY wait to hear Ke$ha.

Wait.

Oh...and writhe they do. Their first coupling is an exercise in awkward groping, with Haim undressing her with the zeal and confusion of someone recently released from EST. Eggert looks mildly put upon. And...I'm sorry, she's supposed to be 17 years old. I don't know why this bothered me so much when I can watch a Larry Clark movie and "get it". Oh wait. Yes I do. It's because his face STILL looks like a 37-year-old burn out! Feldman delivers his lines with the same forced gravelly growl he gave his Frog brother back in 1987's "The Lost Boys" but with his lame pony tail, effeminate way of cupping his cigarette "European" style, and posturing...it doesn't reeeeeeeally shriek "I'm a badass! Quiet! Dangerous!"

And then...they fight. Yes, the Corey's (clearly not emulating their "real-life" relationship) get into a knock-down drag'em out fight...that has the force, swagger, and gusto that you'd see between two kittens in a slap fest. I actually got angry at this point and sped up the film to the end. Bad fight choreography can suck, even if they aren't "fighters", per se. But when it hurts...then you pray for their ruination.

Anyway, Eggert did it. And at the bitter end we have a protracted show down scene between the three of them and some cops which wins the award for the lamest death scene by a character when Eggert FINALLY bites it...in fact, it's either king-sized lame or needs to be in a hall-of-fame somewhere next to the awful death's Schwarzenegger bestowed in "Raw Deal" and "Commando" combined.

Anyway, you have three actors...one of whom (Eggert) would stay on and retain notoriety on "Baywatch" for the next few years and doing another couple of Straight-To-Video starkers. The Corey's would have to wait for their time to rise again, and even then it'd be really to parody themselves. Haim wasn't able to bring himself back...he just kept on spiraling.

Anyway...this movie depressed the shit out of me, and then made me feel a little better about my talent as an actor while I was at it.

Another quick sabbatical

2011-11-11T06:01:00.000-08:00

Hello, readers. Just wanted to give you a quick heads up that I'll be engaging in another brief blogging sabbatical. I shall return. And happy trails.

In which we close down the marathon season...

2011-11-02T11:02:00.000-07:00

...for now. I guess Team Ortho added a half-Marathon this coming January to the Polar Dash and...I'm sorry. That should be renamed the Frostbite 13. Not worth the commemorative medal, nuh-uh...

Pictured: The author, pre-Monster Dash on 10/29/2011. Temperatures at approximately 7:30 a.m. were hovering in the high 20's. Yes. Feeling was lost in our extremities.

Well I survived the final half-marathon of 2011 and I'm pleased to say my easy-going gameplan entering the race paid off in the form of shaving 14 minutes off of my previous half-marathon PR. Pip.

And it was cold, too. Lord. Frosty ground. Knee-rattling weather. It seemed (as we pulled up next to the cathedral in a rock-star space) that the rock-star space was going to be the only respite. Thankfully, there's a church nearby! They'll take in the tired and poor huddled runners! Right? Kind of. The interior temperature wasn't much warmer than outside. The bishops were crusting out (mildly) the runners who were posing for pictures and fouling their restroom with their pre-race constitutionals while they tried to perform their Saturday morning service.

I was too busy mentally wondering how I'd manage getting in and out of my Spidey-suit in order to pee a second time with fingers that were numb if I was separated from Moda. (For a funnier story about that and her own reflections, go here.) By the time we decided to head outside to see if it had warmed up (It hadn't) the grounds and streets around cathedral hill were now swarming with runners- from the meticulously planned and hilariously costumed (There were Q-Tips, Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding, generic "kitty-cats", plenty of "Where's Waldos", Animals, Aliens, Produce ala' "banana-man", cave people, and in our group: The game "Operation", Audrey Hepburn, Spider-Mikey, and an overworked and exhausted writer/actress) to the hard core runners...in their technical tops, wraparound shades, fleece hoodies, gobs of body glide for their nips and anti-glare for under their eyes.

In other words, those who looked warm, comfortable, and ready...and the rest of use be-lycra'ed idiots.

Pictured: Be-lycra'ed idiot #7365. Does my choice of super-hero make me look fat? Or the oft-commented superfluous short-shorts? Whatever. It cut out the wind-chill to the little web-shooter if you know what I mean.

After a freezing stand-around waiting in front of the Biffies while the pre-gun countdown was announced, we managed to dress (I did, anyway) and do a fast trot to find the 2:00 pace group. (Our only "real" strategery was to hang out with that particular group and see how we were feeling periodically on the course.) We found our way to an empty pocket. Did some quick hammy and quad stretches while making small talk around us (met a guy who had just ran his first ultra) and then "Boom". Go time.

After the 1st 2 miles or so Moda asked to hang back a little to have a comfortable and enjoyable run while I attempted my due diligence by standing next to the lady with the time-stick. After engaging with small chit-chat with some other runners we came to our first down hill and I got all excited for the burst of speed. So looking down at my little scamper steps I motored, only looking up when the road started even-ing out and the cop cars started bottle necking us in...and realized I had promptly lost my pacer. Fudge.

Thankfully, I still saw some costumed butts up ahead that were originally in my line of vision so I hung with them. And if I passed'em, I'd find new butts to stare at. Isn't racing fun? Occasionally I'd do the doofy thing and blather lines in the "voice" of whatever costume I'd pass next to. (Count von Count for example was "6! 6, magical miles remaining...Ah. Ha. Ha. Haaa!" Ron Burgundy got "ST.PAUL! Founded by the Aztecs in the 16th century, it's Spanish for 'WHALE'S VAGINA'...!" Stuff like that) I checked in with Garmin'd people to get a rough sense of pace and chatted with some older folks- with a second agenda to make sure they were doing okay. (Mile 7 tends to be the pain-in-the-ass wall during Half-Mary's that can be hard to overcome with out a little motivation, IMO.)

And I guess that was it, too. I kind of felt what Moda told me about when she did Grandma's and there were long stretches with no friends/cheerleaders/run-buddies keeping you company. Just you and the chilly and bright fall parkway. Which wasn't bad. Just, soul-searingly desolate. It was here I sort of missed my Ipod, actually. (To be fair, A/D + Henry were on the course...and I'm pretty sure I scared the shit out of the people around me when- at mile 10- I screamed this!)

To wrap up...I had a little cutie pie catch up with me yelling "Spider-Man! I've been using you to keep pace!" and so we kept each other company until around mile 11.5. Her first half-Mary with a similar goal of finishing sub-2:00, I gave what meager pointers I felt weren't insulting or intrusive ("Let's work those downhills!"/"Looking great!"/"I hit 'reset' when we got to mile 10...so we just have a lil' old 5K race left!" and that sort of frassy ilk.) And with the city and the thickening crowds indicating the end was near I put on the best burst of speed I could muster. (It was here that I realized I should have been wearing a Spidey suit for every race with the number of people screaming "Go Spidey GO!" towards the end.)

I eyeballed the clock and was painfully satisfied that I actually was able to make it back in sub-2:00 with some change...(The clock reading 2:06 as I hit the medal line.) and it wasn't until my friends came over the line and were able to check the times on the website that Moda pats my arm and said "Holy shit, Mikey...1:53:02?!?"

14 minutes better than my last PR at the Boom.

40 minutes faster than my first half in 2010 at the Mpls Marathon.

I barely registered this b/c I was too busy laughing at the banana-suited guy trying to get his medal over the top of his costume which was about 2 feet higher than his actual head.

So yes. I'm really pleased. This was a big-frassy accomplishment for me that I can honestly say one year ago I'd have never completed. (Moreover, I've a better understanding of how proud Moda was last year during the same race when she PR'd with her best at sub-two. It's a great feeling. Until you can barely find yourself standing upright waiting for your mylar cape.)

Good job, Team Awesome!

Pictured: Proud Monster Dashers, racing and running friends, trail and course Ipod lip-synchers/air-guitarists, and on the far right...naked clowns.

In which we run "scary" far...

2011-10-27T07:35:00.000-07:00

Pictured...part of my Monster Dash ensemBLAH! "Spider-Mike and his AMAZING Friends!" Convenient that I had it sittin' in storage, more importantly when I dug it up I still had the stretchy winter gloves I had originally used back in 1998 or so. (Nice for a chilly morning trot) The puff paint was a spur-of-the-moment piece of artistic improvisation that I immediately regretted when I proceeded to get it all over my hands, forearms, legs, and yes...my face. And it stains.

Also...wrist-shooter wrist bands? Hello? Geek? Or CREATIVE MISUNDERSTOOD GENIUS?!?!

The Monster Dash marks my LAST race of the season in 2011- a season marked with fairly dramatic personal improvement, IMO, as well as a new found sense of camaraderie with my friends and new runners who've decided to brave the pavement in pursuit of logging ridiculous weekly distances. I've approached my last two Half-Mar's without gunning for PR's or other lofty goals and I found myself actually planning out and setting up a training plan for this one
in the interest of (hopefully) finishing it Sub-Two. Which over the last two weeks...I more or less dropped.

Rock N' Roll, Spider Nike Mikey. Not pictured: Where'll the Garmin live?

It's not that I don't want to finish sub-two or attempt to use this race as my first attempt to really push the shit out of myself...I just got into my head a liiiiittle too much. I started getting pings and pains here and there. Then the last few weeks of October got themself good and filled from morning to night with work, rehearsal, tours, etc...not to mention I was racing the clock with house projects, the garden, the lawn...MN pre-winter prep...I felt up to my eyeballs in stuff...and by last week or so my lofty race goals just kind of started to... drift a bit.

That said, I performed a mental Etch-A-Sketch shake and reset my brain to "simplify", and made a new game plan which is simply to do my best to run a good race. Go the distance running. To push myself (and hang with the 2:00 hr pace group for as long as possible). To finish strong. And most importantly to have fun with my friends who have been (whether aware or not) a source of pride, support, and joy since we started our outdoor trots together back in April. (Remember the picture FeeJ snapped?)

And seriously? A body suit that can effectively serve as cold-weather technical gear? I pity anyone trying to run in those stupid "Sexy" costumes. (And for people who use face paint make-up. Man. If I tried to be a Zombie Runner? Besides looking like a douchebag? My face would be a gray and red runny mess by mile 3). I think that my being dressed as Die Spinne will be much easier to spot than when I'm wearing super high modesty-proof shorts. Possibly.

I'm not gonna lie- I'm insanely happy to be done with the distance running for 2011. It'll be nice to get back into a routine where I'm runnin' shorties without worrying about tempo/hill/speed work. I'm excited to get back to the karate studio to work on "different" muscles and to start sparring again. To go to the gym to "only" lift weights...yeah. For a while, anyway. Or until I get a bug up my ass to do a full Mary. One day at a time, Michael. Please.

Lastly- I'm starting to write an article that I hope to submit to Runner's World for their blog, or even for their magazine. I can't stress enough that the 12 months have been both a hard and yet wonderfully transformative time for me while I wear this strange distance "running" persona I've adopted. I'd like to think the story I tell (One that isn't relegated to my frassy blog soundbites) is one that might provide runners- new or old- with the kind of support and insight that I've found on my distance trots. It's been a trip.

I leave y'all with my umpteenth plea to come out and support the Monster Dash 2011. The adoration and cheers of the crowds are one of the most appreciated parts of the experience. And I hope to see you out there. Oh, and this guy? This guy stays clean until Halloween. Or maybe brunch after the race. See you on the course...

Closing up Horror-thon 2011

2011-10-25T09:29:00.001-07:00

To recap: I've been trying to get through my Netflixed list of Horror themed movies in October. I've got a small amount of recapping to do, as I've been posting mini-reviews on another site...and to be fair the movie "Zombi" could warrant a 42 page thesis in and of itself. That said, this will be partly compartmentalized since I've made some headway since my last review...AND the Monster Dash is coming up...much more entertaining things to frass about.

So.

I made it through a film series in its entirety. I made it through some 70's genre. A remake. An indie surprise. And...my most regrettable decisions...the "controversial/banned" horror genre. I'll be focusing on the franchise piece today and offering up morsels about the remaining films by way of thumbs upping/downing their respective worths IMNSHO. Let's just say, to rip off about 87 different horror film taglines...sometimes the past should stay dead and buried. Esp. one particularly stupid street in Ohio and the homeless kobold in a Christmas sweater with a bag ladies fingernails...

Pictured: Video World in Brooklyn Park had a small garbage can full of "used" movie posters that I'd appropriate from time to time- mostly...always... from the "horror" section. The above repro was from around 1987...or when Freddy started to be "funny". More on that in a tic.

The Franchise: A Nightmare on Elm Street
# of movies: 6 in the franchise "proper". 1 meta in-joke. 1 crossover. 1 remake. (I stuck with the franchise "proper", more or less. Watched in order. Here we go.)

Part #'s:
1- The first. Arguably the best. Scary. Defining. Dark ending.
2- I skipped it. What? It had almost nothing to do with the rest except Freddy and the house. And jokey homo-erotic undertones all over.
3- Fun. Okay special effects and creative deaths. Freddy gets "funny". Wouldn't have hurt to stop the series here. By far, the 2nd best of the lot.
4- Getting dumber.
5- Good effects. Still dumb. The high school kids are really looking old. They're really over-explaining his backstory now. A major horror film no-no.
6- It was in 3D. And does NOT translate well. Not only should the series have been buried, but it should have had concrete poured over it. Then a fake grave marker in a completely different cemetery to appeal to tourists. So. Freaking. Dumb. It hurt.

-A New Nightmare. 1994. In jokes and audience "winks"/Easter Eggs were really far and few between. This movie was almost ALL meta. Before meta was meta. Still, probably my 3rd favorite in the series...if anything for the 25 lb cell phones.

The whole series? 2.5/5

The rest:

Trollhunter- Awesome. And funny. And really, really well done for a "low budget" film.
Stakeland- Not as awesome. Not as fun. And I got kind of bored. It was like "The Road" meets "30 Days of Night".
Martin- Non-Zombie Romero Vampire Film. Better than I thought. Weird at first, but if you go with it it won't let you down. The "is he" or "isn't he"? Is part of the charm.
Dawn of the Dead (2004)- Very good. Intense. Frightening. Takes a little from every piece of "Z" genre films including the original source material to make a quality "scary" movie.
The Cell- Okay, so it's a little unfair since I'd seen it already. That said, you can't go wrong with what you know and what you know is thrilling. And it's a beautifully rendered movie to boot. ("Nightmare" series, take note- THIS is how you create a dream landscape. Not by retreading a boiler room or smelly asylum.)

The very...very bad. Like, 0/5 stars would be polite. We're talking the "banned/controversial" horror films...

Salo'- So f#cking gross. I can divorce myself from what I know is "fake" or an "effect". And this movie about fascist Italy toward the end of WW II dealing with some very perverse and twisted people...defenders of this film? Have fun. It was absolutely putrid and disgusting.

Cannibal Holocaust- Fine. One of the 1st "found film" scary movies...it's just kind of gross and little disturbing. And not necessarily the simulated pygmy rape...they butcher live animals on film. Dumb N' Gross...

Zombi- Will get a blog unto itself. A zombie dry-humps a shark underwater. 'Nuff said.

That's where I am. I have "Macbeth" (1971), "Braindead", and "The Last Circus" on the queue- not to mention there are about 6 on the Instant backburner. Besides that, I was preparing to ready myself for a few of the specific "Friday the 13th" movies (namely, 1-6...skipping part V since it wasn't SPOILER Jason) It'll be mid-November by this point, and with needing to decorate for Halloween, run a half-Mary in costume, rehearse, do 4-5 Ghost Tours, and get my overall house ready for winter...I might just get a little tired of "Horror" and go back to streaming the latest "Dr. Who" series or "Friday Night Lights"....(Sighs)

Pictured: The other poster I bought with the one above. I believe it was one of them that my grandma...when she came up to stay with us in 1988/1989 or so and was going to sleep in my bedroom...made me take them down before she could sleep...MuhwahHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Vegas Wrap Up...(pt 5)

2011-10-12T10:59:00.000-07:00

Time to end this un-interesting clap trap...

I really, really wanted to stay in and watch movies. My co-worker had other plans.

Again, I was asked what I wanted for dinner (specifically. She was displeased with my response "I don't really care. Go ahead and pick something") We settled on "seafood" and my promise that I'd google some places before freshening up. One jarring phone call later (Seriously? Why do hotels have their phone ringers set to Defcon 5?) we were headed down to do the strip. We parked at NY, NY where the parking gods were again in our favor and didn't get charged. (Really. For some reason I recalled that we were able to park anywhere for free) and we meandered around before settling on the Luxor buffet. (Kind of underwhelming. And by kind of- there was nary a piece of seafood with the exception of some cod in a soupy tomato melange)

Then we walked. We putzed through MGM (NO LIONS?!?! WHERE WERE THEY? SMOKING?) Mandalay, and New York before hitting the street to check out the new City Center compound. On the way, we were accosted by MORE street performers. (More aggravating than the porn-fwappers, IMO. Catwoman? Peter Griffith? Bumblebee from the Transformers? What the shit?) At City Center, we finally got around to gambling a little bit before making our way back home.

Oh. The changes. City Center is vast. While a majority of it is comprised of meeting/conference centers- it does have it's fair share of casinos and funky Gehry inspired hotels. And standing out on the open air skyways and taking it all in, I'm just amazed at how much the place has changed in the nearly 20 years since I first visited Vegas. And I'm guessing it was around here that I lost my driver's license. A little nugget I wouldn't discover until I was emptying my pockets at the hotel.

fuck

The next morning after a phone call to the airport and LVPD I was assured that I'd be fine, and that if I was overseas I'd be really fucked (their words, not mine) and once I was politely admitted to the airport "proper"...it was off to home sweet home. It was at this point that I really wondered if I p#ssed someone off karmically (again) because the family in front of me had a crying pampie and the dude next to me was coughing like he had the plague...and apparently had never heard of covering his mouth. Gross.

I may end up getting sent back in a quarter or two. I think I'll listen to my gut and stay in the hotel room. And for your pleasure...a timeline:

1992- The last great family road trip, we visit Vegas for a night on our way home. Having camped the last 5 nights, dad ponies up and gets us a big room at the Lady Luck. He gives me a pocket ful of dimes and tells me to "look 21". I manage to spend it all, and get one of those stupid post-cards that superimposes your picture over the old downtown strip. On our way out of town, we see the big ass "new" casino being built in the distance called "Excalibur".

2004- Stayed at the Westin behind the Barbary Coast. Find out how much Vegas has changed. Rented a convertable with leather seats which we learn is a terrible idea when it's 90 degrees and sunny. Saw a nudie Cirque show and Celene Dion. I did.

2005- Stayed at the Golden Nugget. Did NOT rent a car which was a terrible idea, and spent nearly $150 on cab fare over 3 days. DID visit Red Rock and fell in love a little more with the desert. Tried the buffet at the Flamingo and my life was changed. DID see "Mama Mia"...and why? Learn that the Lady Luck has been demolished.

2007- Stayed at the Strat w/Moda for my birthday. Saw the vampire titty show, and the best Cirque show in memory- Also had a gallon sized gin + tonic for $9 and we managed to get lost on a chilly hike. We are officially demoted to B-squad hikers.

Off Site "Work" (pt 4)

2011-10-06T12:02:00.000-07:00

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)

2011-10-06T11:16:00.000-07:00

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

2011-10-03T17:49:00.000-07:00

(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)

2011-10-03T16:29:00.001-07:00

(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

2011-09-19T05:28:00.001-07:00

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

2011-09-09T06:07:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-06T08:59:00.000-07:00

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!!!

2011-09-06T05:45:00.000-07:00

***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!

2011-08-26T08:30:00.001-07:00

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

2011-08-17T08:35:00.000-07:00

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!!!

2011-08-03T09:06:00.000-07:00

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...

2011-08-01T12:14:00.000-07:00

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!

2011-08-01T07:04:00.001-07:00

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

2011-07-22T12:09:00.000-07:00

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...

2011-07-19T10:39:00.000-07:00

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"

2011-07-18T06:44:00.000-07:00

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...

2011-07-05T08:22:00.001-07:00

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...

2011-07-01T06:51:00.000-07:00

(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!

New Jobbbb!

2011-06-30T12:22:00.000-07:00

Hey. I gotta job! Technically I'm finishing my third week, but it's new to me! For the first time in over 2 years I got myself a FT position, with bennies, and NOT as a temp. (More on that in a second.)

So there I was temping over at the Blue Electric Box and thinking that it'd be a decent temporary gig, but the managers mentioned that as they grow as a department, the possibilities of placing me as a permanent employee would grow as well. And that was fine. I mean, it was work. There was the on-site gym. Great cafeteria. Actor friendly. (Meaning, quite a few actor buddies were on site) Seemingly Flexible. And more or less Friendly. (You grow to loathe the "temp treatment"...regardless of what you think or what the managers say, I'd been placed at 3 different offices where you were treated with outright contempt. Kind of like being relegated to the cafeteria table away from the popular kids. And you eat it. Every day. Because you need the job. At least I did...)

My issue was that it was kinda mind-numbing. Under-challenging. Moreover, my direct report was...not a people person? Exact opposite, in fact. A poooooor leader. Yelled instructions and assignments at us through our door in passing. I had to schedule a meeting w/my temp agency as to what direction I was going since it didn't seem like I was getting a whole lot of guidance. (And he was a mouse-grabber. Like, grab your mouse right out of your hand to "show" you what he couldn't communicate verbally. Bad form.) Then when you couple in the fact that he was a little condescending- to everyone- I was getting antsy and a little pissy. (The "productivity" tracker they implemented was bullshit too. That's neither here nor there. I just haaaaaaate micro-management)

And then the Careerbuilder threw me a bone.

There was a QA position in a small company that was literally a nickel toss away from my home. The required skill set seemed aligned with my own so I threw'em my resume' and as luck would have it- I landed an interview. (First a phone interview w/their Vegas HR dept. Which was...weird...if not a little casual) I ended up with a face to face 2nd interview the following week and my hopes were starting to get higher. After I took the day off at the Temp job to hit it... I marveled at the 3 minute commute from my front door. I imagined bike rides. Lower blood pressure due to not having a s#itty commute. And after finally meeting the interviewers with their ridiculous sense of humor, the fact that one of them found my marathon small talk interesting, being told I was the best fit for the position based on my experience...It was in the BAG, baby!!!

AAnnnnd I blew it. Actually, I was positive I blew it. Something felt wonky when I walked out. And after 5 days of waiting w/baited breath and thinking about how to word my resignation email...I got the "we decided to go in another direction" phone call. So...I exhaled. Spent a day stewing with it. And woke up the next day thinking about how I was going to make my next few (days/weeks/months/years) working at Blue Box pleasant. That's right. I decided to flip my attitude and see if I could make a go of it. Good for me, right? Didn't mean I wouldn't keep looking for other things, right? RIGHT??!?!?!

And like an 80's movie where the "ex" comes back while you're just getting on your feet? Apparently one of the candidates dropped and they called me to ask if I was still interested in the position. MY EMOTIONS!!!! YOU TOY WITH THEM!!!!

There were some wonky hitches...I kept it on the complete down low until the offer was extended, accepted, my paperwork was received and in good order...hell, I thought I'd jinx it until after my pee-test cleared. But clear it did. And on 6/13? Jobbed. It didn't take me more than a day to realize that I made a good choice. It might have been also when the CEO dropped off the company magazine and actually said "Here's one for Mikey!" that I was almost positive I did.

The money isn't tremendous. And figuring out benefits after nearly 8 years was a chore. But it is a small company. And growing, with a good business model. With the commute being so easy, it's amazing I spent so many years angry at other people...more amazing I didn't suffer a heart attack. My co-worker is cool. She's a gear-head and a self-proclaimed "Jeep Snob" who fills me in on she and her husbands latest off-road shenanigans. (I'm learning about cars, yo. A LOT about cars) So yeah. I can go to the doctor and dentist now. Pip.

So that, friends, is me at my new job.

Grandma's Recap

2011-06-27T06:31:00.001-07:00

(Pictured- Ebullience at mile #5)

Well...it's been over a week and she's ambulatory and running again, so I hope you'll forgive this race recap for being a little late. Yes, she finished the world famous G-Ma's Marathon and lived to tell the tale. FeeJ and I (with the eventual additions of Cap'n Dawn, Melbus, and Cap't Dottie) crewed like fiends with FeeJ doing a lion's share by hauling me around and snapping some tremendous photo's. (As seen above and below. She has a good eye, that one.)

Without getting into too much detail (and with my already terrible penchant for rambling-moreover rambling about running), I think I'd like to tell my 4 readers: Go and watch a marathon. Moreover, leapfrog mileage stops from as close to the start of the race all the way to mile 25. I'm not saying it'll replace your favorite professional sports team, but (for me) the experience- watching almost an entire marathon from start to finish? Was almost transformative.

We made it to our Kampsite Friday afternoon, had a nice dinner at the local restaurant down the street from the Kampgrounds, and turned in early...only to be roused by pissing rain coming down on the rooftop and an anxious-to-make the bus Moda. At 4am. I was still without my faculties at this point. After making it in to Duluth, FeeJ and I killed time at a Perkins with our darkly comical server- although when we started to head out to our first post (mile 5) we were nearly trapped in the parking lot since we neglected to notice that we were on the course and the first half-Mary finishers were heading on home. (Course record, btw- 1:02 half marathon. Jesus.)

We started getting our text updates from the G-Ma's website (Technology is neat!), in addition to our neighborly NE crew of A+D+Crash who were leapfrogging with us as well. FeeJ took to a light pole for a better view ala' "Singin' In the Rain" and after about 20 minutes, the wheelers started in:

And then the "Elite" runners. (Please notice the "mid-strike" footfall. Also? You could have balanced trays on their heads. Almost no bouncing. There were some good one's of the female elites but- get this- they were too fast)

Working with the Ginger's, (and grateful the rain dissipated) we made our way to mile 12 to park and watch. The racers, for the most part, were still ebullient but you could see the fatigue on their faces. By this point, we started recognizing racers from earlier and were able to better identify pace groups. (Although finding Moda...I mean if she hadn't sought us out I'd have missed her entirely) One of my favorite parts was checking out the different race costumes*, identifying footwear (several Veeb sightings) and just...clapping for everybody. Because everyone deserved a clap. Everyone.

*My favorite race t-shirt slogans included: "I shaved my balls for this?!?", "Running Sucks", and lastly "Running is GOOD for you...and your fat ass". Other race garb spanned the gamut from homemade hand-lettered "Marathon Virgin!" to silkscreened commemorative t-shirts with the picture of a deceased loved one. And then there were the "costumes"...tu-tu's, a guy dressed up like a rubber duck, a guy we nicknamed "running Jesus", and...and this guy. I'll be honest...I didn't like him too much:

(Later that night, Moda said the dude had an obnoxious habit of running off the course to have a pee in the woods before returning)

FeeJ and I then started to head back to Downtown Duluth to meet up with the rest of our crew/crew-dog and it was while stuck in traffic I received the worrisome text from 'Lis that said "Mile 16 and she's hurting". Great. And our next planned station wasn't until mile 25 or so. We eventually met with the Cap'n D et.al and made the walk from around mile 23 through downtown proper. While proudly wearing our Mo-Mer hankies, we were able to view first hand the last few miles...and the effects it had on the racers. (This, to me, was the most fascinating)

Gone were the smiles and ebullience. At this point you could tell that people were digging deep, or at least praying that the end was near. They were walking. There were people barefoot. (My favorite? The guy that smacked the mile marker with his shoes. Second only to the dude who looked like he was sooooo close to tossing his cookies) There were...bloody nipples. (WHY WEAR WHITE!?!? WHY?!?!?!?!)

But we kept cheering. We kept screaming. And the crowds...they kept following (We also noticed folks who'd been stationed and apparently leap-frogging like we did) In fact, the outpouring of support was infectious and effusive. And even though I was freezing balls (44 degrees? In June? Really?) I kept clapping and screaming until my hands went numb.

(Pictured- The truth)

And yet here I was, still worried about the Mo. We finally made it to a spot by the DECC center around mile 26 or so and waited. I finally got the text that she crossed mile 25 and we continued to clap and yell for the runners- many of whom looked like they made the worst decision in their lives. And then one woman...one woman re-affirmed that when she came "air-pulling" toward the group of us...and the families and children that surrounded us. And that affirmation came out in a primal and lusty cry!!!

(Pictured: Primal Lust. And Lactic acid. And blisters)

"THIS IS THE WORST FUCKING THING EVER!!!"

Well...with that hearty endorsement in mind, let me hustle on out and sign up for one! We milled over to the finish area and waited until we heard her name announced. (At this point, I received a flurry of text messages from the Bean, who was watching the live video stream from home, asking if he was seeing her correctly)

And man...you have never seen a flurry of emotion pass across somebodies face as much as a marathon finisher. The laughing melts into intense sobbing, back to amazement, to pain, to laughing and all smiles.

Like this:

While she limped off to pick up her gear ("This is bullshit. WHY are they making the race finishers walk another block to get their crap?!?!) I took a few minutes to soak it all in. And it wasn't pretty. In fact, it was almost like a trauma center. A little harrowing too, since they don't let you walk in with the finishers to get their stuff. We waited a tick longer until she came out (more smiles, more tears, more worry that she lost a toenail...which was only a pretty agitated blister) We walk/carried her a few blocks away until we were picked up by Dawn and Melbus and headed to grab some food at a restaurant that wasn't bursting with racers before heading back to the campsite proper for a well deserved party. (Or in Moda's case, limping to bed and passing out at 8:45.)

So I've volunteered at a water stop. I've hung out next to race/course marshall's at full-marathons. And this'll be technically the 2nd time I've crewed for Mo during a run. But I'm stone-cold serious when I tell you that you should think about attending a marathon and following the course of the run from stem to stern. It's a powerful thing to see people-from the "Elite" runners all the way to 1st timers who just want to finish (the last place finisher came in just over 7 hours.) and how they evolve/devolve as the joy and energy is slowly replaced, mile by mile, with gritted teeth. Pain. Focus. Resolve. Just to say you ran 26.2 miles. I guarantee...the racers will appreciate it from the bottom of their medallioned hearts.

Replace my Central A/C

2011-06-24T05:12:00.000-07:00

Sorry. I know I have catching up to do on my stories, but it is Summer, my time and funds are limited, and I'm querying the universe to see if anyone has any suggestions/recommendations before I put actual leg-work into getting this thing fixed/replaced/bid on.

Okay, so most of you know I biffed when playing with the tiller in the backyard last month and what you see above is the result of my incompetence. The tiller, a minute after I started it, "kicked" up and banged that lil' lower corner. Freon proceeded to blow out like a cartoon steam whistle, and when it finally stopped? I couldn't really look inside to see what exactly was wrong. It seemed like a small hole, and (what I was secretly hoping) a small fix that my Utility company would be able to rectify. (I am, as you know, on the Service Plus plan. Ahem. <--Fancy Pants McGhee)

Anyway, after the record-setting heat and the fact that I was put on a wait list for the repair I ended up purchasing a window unit in the interim to make sure that at least my 2nd floor stayed marginally cool when it gets dirty hot this summer, and waited sweatily until the repair person showed up with their diagnosis. I had a show on repair day, so I told them what the issue was and tasked my roommate with taking meticulous notes to let me know what the issue/fix was for when I got home. (He's really, really good at that sort of thing) And the news, it turned out, seemed pretty bad.

So I'm listing the issues/repairs below, and I have to tell you- I think it's kind of bunk. At least, I have a hard time believing it. The bottom line, per the dude, was that it's irreparable. My thought was, at best, someone could replace the copper tube and replace the freon and away we go. Worst case, I find a similar model, chuck the old one, plug the (used) replacement in, away we go. Apparently, that isn't the case. And from the people I've spoken to- Both people who know a/c and other friends? It seems weird that they'd say that it can't be fixed. So HERE'S WHERE I'D LIKE YOUR HELP pleeeease:

(Notes were taken by my roommate. I've made comments/questions next to the bulleted list in italics)

The repair record card said: Coil Cannot Be repaired, Need New A/C (Ooookay...why? )

The Bean's notes, based on the dude who inspected it:
-Repair not possible, and if someone says they can do it, they're fools. (S#it. I pity fools)
- Replace outside "RZZ" possible with NEW "RZZ" - NOT old, or used equipment. (Wait, so then I can just replace the parts and it can be repaired? I'm confused)
- OR replace the inside/outside w/"R410A" (Wait...what about the hole?)

DIAGRAM'd!!! "Outside" hardware means the a/c unit, "Inside" is the thing that it connects to, that's built into the furnace.

OUTSIDE HARDWARE<---CONNECTING HARDWARE---> INSIDE HARDWARE
"RZZ" <-----MUST BE COMPATIBLE WITH WHAT'S INSIDE---> "RZZ"
(Apparently, my 10 year old central a/c is now obsolete. Why? Oh. R410A)
"R410A"<----IN SHORT, THE MODELS MUST MATCH---> "R410A"

(So then it's just a parts issue. Right? Why should I replace this again? Why are they fools? Confused Copernicus!)

Repair person's closing thoughts:

-Shop anywhere you want for new hardware, including CenterPoint

-Repair theoretically possible, but would contaminate the system sooner or later. (What the s#it does that even mean? My web research shows contamination to be a microbe or dust problem for folks with allergies. WTF does this mean? OUTBREAK?!?!?

So there is my issue in a nutshell. If you've clicked on this link via FB to see my a/c issue, and aren't a family member, and have something constructive or beneficial to say? You have my deepest thanks. Stay frosty, readers...come August I'm gonna be a sweaty beast.

What to tell? Much...

2011-06-22T05:16:00.000-07:00

Sorry, sorry...my bad. I know it's been a few weeks but there's been a metric crap ton on the Mikey front over the last few weeks. I had promised blogs-a-plenty but these last two weeks have been a jumble of activities and it's hard for me to parse them down. I'll frame these as individual blaugs eventually, but to understand where I'm coming from...a few nibblers:

-New jobbed! Yup. This is in and of itself the biggest piece of news. I'm QA'ing at an online vehicular diagnosticing company and finally entering the world of (permanent) gainful employment.

-Grandma'ed! Moda ran her first full Mary last weekend up in the Duluth area. Not only is this an impressive feat for her, there were some hilarious shenanigans over the weekend.

-Cabin'd! Mama-san and I headed up to da lake to get the trailer unpacked and have a mow. On the way back, we discussed in "real" terms what this could mean by way of getting a new, actual livable cabin in place of the shack etc. (I'm confirming this...since she does read this thing...and saying to cyber-ville that if we had a livable cabin- That is to say something with working indoor plumbing/shower/kitchen/sleeping area and a dock that could easily be rolled in place? I'd probably go up twice-monthly during the summer months. No lie.)

-Races! I'm on the fence about frassin' about this one. The "Boom" is coming up and I'm still wondering if I wanna do it. It's practically in my back yard. Cheap. And I've been training on the harder parts of the route for the last month so working the hill and riding it down isn't a worrisome issue. In other news, I'm floating comfortably around my target weight of 180 or so and am wearing other summer shorts.

-Garden!!! We're working with the scapes tonight, kids! Garlic curly-cue goodness! I have NOTHING by way of new plantings but hopefully will change that this weekend when I put up the bun-bun proof fence.

-Closed/Open! I closed the "Angry" dude play, which was mildly sad. (It was a real pleasure working with everyone of those guys) HowEVER I auditioned for a Fringe show and got in (pip) so there'll be more theater-frass aplenty after the fourth of July.

How about that? There's other frass a-brewing in the coming summer months- Finishing the landscaping project as well as indoor projects (My roommate is going to be gone for a week and a half...ergo, I'm throwing a party) Tubin' trips down the Cannon, the desperate need for a new Central A/C, and getting acclimated to my new routine at the new job.

Expect more to follow. If you're here, glad you stuck around.

Movie Review: "X-Men: First Class"

2011-06-08T07:08:00.000-07:00

Fair warning...I'm going to spoil the shit out of this movie.

(sighs) I had a long drawn out opening here. I'm skipping it because if you're reading this you've either seen the 4 other films in the X-Men movie franchise or have some familiarity with the source material. In telling you that I'm a nerd/geek, I should probably qualify it by also saying I'm not some dipshit who'll blindly walk into a franchise movie. I can weigh comic/sci-fi films on my very own, make informed decisions based on reviews, gut-feelings, and whether or not I care. (I'm also very forgiving.) This is why I can watch "Daredevil" or "Superman Returns" knowing they might not be great but appreciate them for what they are. And avoid the latest "Pirates" franchise money grabber or "Elektra" outright. Or take "Batman and Robin" out of my VCR, take a crap in the case, duct tape it shut, and put it in the overnight bin at Hollywood Video with a post-it note that says "You're Welcome" on it. Might've happened.

Anyway, I own X3 and Wolverine which are the dogs/red-headed stepchildren of the franchise because of my OCD on owning full franchise runs on DVD (something I'm loosening up on as I get older) and because I can still find the love in them. It's there, buried in shitty scripts and pacing...ego projects coughcoughHughJackmancoughcough (Okay, quick rant...you're well built, Hugh. We get it. But please don't be a McConnaudouche and be shirtless in EVERY movie, kay? It's "The Prestige" for pities sake. Victorian London. And you HAVE to have a shirtless scene in it? You're built like a frickin' truck, not a sleight-of-hand master. Ugh. End. Rant)

Okay...

Plot synopsis- The US gov't enlists help of mutants to stem the tide of the Red Menace during the Cuban Missile crisis. Kevin Bacon, a degree beside himself, wants World War 3. Hijinks ensue.

So I had some reservations going into this one. A friend of mine said "I get tired of 'prequels'...why can't they up and do the first story first and build from there?" Fair enough. He's in the business and understands that blockbuster summer movies typically pull a "Star Wars" to gauge fan interest FIRST before bleeding the property dry by turning around 4 films into a series to do an "origin" story. And I think that was my initial reservation, coupled with the fact that we already know where this story is going. Like "Titanic" with Mutants but sans a nekkid Kate Winslet.

That said, I like the director's body of work ("Stardust" is a gem, btw. And if you haven't seen "Layer Cake", shame on you.) and the leads were cast well enough to give it a chance. ALSO, there's the fact that I personally think it's cool that they're now taking these huge studio genre films and making them into period pieces. (I have high hopes for you, "Captain America")

I guess...well...with "X-Men: First Class"? I got kind of bored. Had a "Third Class" experience, if you will. See...

I "get" what they were trying to do. Really. Give it that swinging 60's James Bond vibe. And I "think" they were trying to piece it all in to the 1st three X-Men movies for continuities sake. Not just gentle winks and nudges to the audience and fans, but really say "This is where THEY started. Remember? Remember? We got the metal mover. The mentalist. The blue lady! It's like the same movie in 1961!" And they wanted us to buy into it.

Except- I'm not gonna toss continuity aside for the sake of my own enjoyment here. If you want to keep continuity and to be still be groundbreaking? Do your homework better. Or make the delineations clear enough for widespread enjoyment to a larger audience base and not to people like me who've seen the first few "X" movies a few times...enough to have more questions and head scratching WTF moments walking out that most people who've NEVER seen them might-not-have.

For example: They take the time to make a nearly shot-for-shot reference to the beginning of the first "X-Men" in the concentration camp to start the story. Then, they have not one but TWO magical cameo's in the form of the "older" Mystique and by Mr. Jackman. (In, IMO, the best use of a character throwback and F-Bomb in a PG-13 film) We have the Blackbird. We have a blue furry beast. Magneto and how he got his name and helmet. The same makeup on Mystique. And hey, isn't that African-American Girl when Xavier uses Cerebro...doesn't she have white hair? Isn't that Storm? There's just so much that puts it in the exact same universe as the first three movies. It stands to reason, no...it makes sense that THAT is what they were going for.

So then if we know Prof. X winds up in a wheelchair (but he's shown walking at different points in 2 of the previous franchise films...and actually still buddies with Magneto when they're older like at the start of "X3") Then why the shit did they decide to end it like they did? He winds up paralyzed and still with hair while Magneto and the rest of the bad guys saunter off? Why not make him go bald the first time he uses Cerebro? (Although, the joke they placed in it's stead "Can we shave your head?"/"No." was good) And (sideways tangent) why the shit is Moira MacTaggert...who is so very-very Scottish in the comics and "X3"- AND played by Brit Rose Byrne...why is she American? So that she can be CIA? I just...what?

Other nitpicks: Magneto says to Mystique that he likes his women older when she's trying to seduce him (insert cameo by Ms. Romijn) and then when she turns back into her "normal" form he then decides to bed her? That takes their relationship to a different level in the other films? (Once you go blue, you can never go...I don't know) And really, reeeeeeeally? Don't patronize me. Like, please don't make me feel like an enormous dipshit. Well how did they do this? When the caption says "Moscow, USSR" and yup...it's indeed a snowy day in the Kremlin. Then you go back and show the exact same shot? You don't NEED to have the gawdamn caption say "Moscow, USSR". We are stupid, we audiences. But I think you didn't lose us in 5 minutes.

And I've read that everyone is fawning over the Bacon. Except I kind of thought he made it a little too gleefully evil. It worked at the beginning when he was goading young Magneto, but instead of getting cold and "evil" he just got more gleeful and cackle-y. (Props, though, for a really awesome death scene) Sebastian Shaw is supposed to be one smooth Mo-Fo...Kevin Bacon acted like he didn't know what he was supposed to be doing in a super-hero movie.

And then there is Emma Frost. Miz Jones...I mean really? You cast a Victoria's Secret Mannequin? She. Sucks. And f#ck it if I HATE HATE HATE the "crystal" power she has. Just make her a mind reader/f#cker and be done with it. Or cast a piece of balsa wood. You'd get a better actor. Lastly...let's not ride the "Proud to be a Mutant" mantra into the ground. It sounds...lame. Like...we get it. A dramatic close-up of a character saying the phrase doesn't make it powerful. Actually, when you've been trying to build it up until this point? It kind of does the opposite.

Did I like it? Meh. Maybe enough to own it as a bookend to the rest of the X-Men films I own. I think Fassbender is great. McAvoy does good work. (Although do we always need the visual cue of "touching your temple" when you're "reading minds"? Just read the stupid minds. You have an awesome power. Probably the best power. And you need to make constipated migraine face every time? Guh) I think that if you just had a film of the two of them in the swinging sixties, getting into shenanigans or chasing Nazi's in Argentina? That, my friends, would be an EXCELLENT film.

Instead we get a clunky, mildly uneven entry into the series that proves the following: It's a better film than X-3 and Wolverine put together. But unfortunately, that ain't saying much.

2/4 stars. And it gets that many only because of a great cameo and reasonably well- paced direction and action sequences.

You know what you don't do?

2011-06-08T06:41:00.001-07:00

(pictured- The author post-recovery run on the record-setting hottest day of 2011. I went early to beat the heat but still lost a 4 pints of water. It was like my own mini-Badwater marathon out there! And you know somethi...fahk. I am anti-photogenic. Ugh...)

DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK!!! What? You think that because the race is over and my wistful memories and the painful exertion that went into the half-Mary was the end of running jibba-jabba? No, No, No, my friends. I have a new toy to play with that you see there dangling out of my mouth like a slobbery tennis ball being handed to you by a golden retriever. I found it in the locker room at work and after turning it in to the lost and found , I waited a month (or until my last day on the job if it matters) before inquiring if anyone had claimed it. To be fair, I'd have walked off with it as soon as I found it but Moda made mention that it's bad race karma to abscond with someone else's running tool. (And it had also been pointed out to me that the karma worked when I twisted my ankle during the run and didn't up and break my foot. I'm just sayin'...) So, when no one claimed it?

Yoink.

So now I have a Garmin and outside of the fact that it's supposed to tell me my pace and distance, I can't figure the dumb thing out. So I now own the equivalent of an expensive digital watch on my wrist. Still...I wanted to get used to wearing it. And on my little 4-5 mile putter, it did give me an idea of how long I was going to be out in the wretched heat and when to "turn it up" so I could haul-ass home before it hit 100 degrees. Nothing says nothing like a training recovery run that involves blood, swass, and tears...

(Pictured: Swass)

Anyway, I'm gonna start frassin about the back yard but I still need to figure out a mulch solution (although during the Half-Mary we did see the tree chippings in an enORMOUS pile off of the Plymouth avenue bridge...the remnants of the tornadoes from a few weeks back) and also a plan as to what I'm planting and where. (I'm having a tough time "imagining" what the layout is going to be. I might solicit your help, readers) First and foremost is getting the stupid whirligigs blown off the weed barrier so that they don't take root or turn into a nesting ground for the stupid boxelder bugs that permeate my home when I neglect to do so.

(Remember when you were a kid and you'd watch them twirl and whirl like little helicopters and it was SO much fun? Yeah. I don't either)

It also means keeping them out of my gutters, garden, and flower/herb pots. 2 years ago I forgot to clear them out and they started growing in my gutters that were uncovered and choked out my flowers and herbs like they were in a mixed-martial arts match. It was a sad growing season in 2009...just sayin. Moreover, they actually do provide the nesting materials for the bugs and since I'm not hosting a insectoid orgy I'm getting outside and blowing that crap away from the huis.

(Pictured: It's always a good idea to respect your elders...unless they're getting their groove on next to the outside dryer vent.)

Oh. I'll also be posting my "X-Men: First Class" review soon. Fair warning, it's not what you'd probably expect from this nerd.

Race day Re-Cap

2011-06-06T11:45:00.000-07:00

Pictured- The author's well worn Lunar-Fly's. After hundred's of miles of minimalist training I think it's safe to retire them to a nice senior community in Florida.

Whew. I'd love to bend your ear with a mile-for-mile play-by-play but I'm still pretty tired and living off of the residual memory of how it went yesterday- In addition to the outpouring of support of Moda, D-Gangs, D+A and Crash, as well as surprise sightings/appearances of Balcolm-In-The-Middle, Matthus, and bless her heart...the original sporting cheerleader, Mom.

In brief-

After setting out my gear and a fitful night's sleep, I was up and biking to the Depot around 5:30 am after a breakfast of 1 gallon of water and two cups of java. We met, stretched a little, frassed, and eventually meandered over to the start. I was introduced to FeeJ's buddy Ryan and we milled about on the street waiting for a Port-a-John and getting anxious listening to the announcer do the pre-start countdown...which seemed closer than would allow us to actually get a chance to get to pee.

Moda miraculously found us in the throngs, we waited and waited until the buzzer announced the start and waited some more. (A fellow runner told me not to worry. As soon as the buzzer yelped the lines would dissipate to free us up to pee. And they did. And thank you, miss.)

FeeJ and her Garmin were great for mellowing me out from the get-go (my instinct being to catch up with the crowd...and to stop dancing to N-Sync's "Bye-Bye-Bye") and keeping a steady pace for the first few miles. My only running goals (while, you know, actually "running" ) were not to get too ahead of myself speed-wise, and to hopefully "open'er up" around mile 10 if I was feeling good. We had some Coach-Moda and D-Gang sightings on the first few miles with Moda playing Drill Sergeant during my more juvenile race-moments of air-drumming during "Stone-in-Love" ("IF YOU HAVE ENOUGH ENERGY TO AIR-GUITAR, YOU SHOULD BE RUNNING FASTER!")

Duly noted.

After doubling back across the Stone-Arch (and memory of how last year I was starting to "feel" it.) we hit the hills (soundtrack-"Run, Run Away"). I kept up with double-fisting the water and Powerade, making sure to knock back the "Ade" FIRST then warsh it down with water. I skipped the GU and kept the beat with my mix and tried to just keep moving forward. Short steps. Upright posture. By mile 8 or 9 (I think) I was feeling fine on the uphills and doing my best to power-down the downs then level-off. I had enough in my tank. And I actually felt okay.

FeeJ and I parted ways a little bit before the turnaround back to the "G", and while I had hoped to keep with my plan of putting on speed for the last 3 miles I had mis-read the mile marker and slowed down thinking there were really 5 miles left (whoops) when it was more like 2.5. And then when I was increasing my speed on a particular downhill, I was weaving between runners when I caught a pothole which twisted my ankle in and I had to do the quick 10 second assessment (Is it broken? Can I put weight on it?) My back was frassy, but I figured at least my engines were moving me forward. And holy crap did it scare me.

My coaches had been hollering encouragement from the sides of the roads for the last few, but I'd be lying if I said I was actually listening. Outside of confirming with Moda there was only a mile or so left, I plugged back in ("Roll with the Changes") and figured I should power on through to the end. My breathing was still okay and there wasn't any gorge coming back up under the bridge heading toward the finish so when I saw the balloons and crap I figured I should just see how fast I could go, consistently, to finish.

And no shit, I finished in 2:08. Nearly 30 minutes off of my time from last year. I didn't even have tunnel vision. For her part, as proud as she was and proud as I was that she came out to cheer? Mother did not hug her sweaty second-born. For my part, I kept it together long enough to run (ha!) back to the finish-line and cheer on my friend FeeJ. Good job, love. Tremendous job for someone who hadn't ran a mile one year ago.

And now, Moda is already telling me I should try shaving off time to get sub-2 with my next run. I haven't decided if the Red, White, and Boom will be the next race (It's tropically prohibitive in MN in July.) but maybe, just maybe I'll try it for the Monster Dash?

God knows I'm wearing my hypocrisy quite well. ("This is the first and LAST half I'm doing! Time to cross THIS off the Bucket List...LOL!" Mikey, circa 2010)

But maybe I can do that. Moda, Gangs, et.al have made me think about things while running that I've been able to practically apply to both my training and race day: Use what's in the tank and leave it on the course, and push yourself. I think it was my rationale that I'd try and run the last 5K at a faster tempo that I figured that maybe I wasn't pushing my self as hard as I could. I could have just plodded out the half and finished this year. And been done. Hey. Another medal and wicker shirt. But who was stopping me. I wasn't injured. I was (thankfully) not broken from that pot-hole. The only thing keeping me from getting up those hills would have been me. And I was all like..."Fuck those hills." No really. In my brain, I couldn't respond to my friends because I was making wine under my feet. With the hills. Wine-Hill-Fucking. Whatever makes your PR, right? Shut it.

And thanks for humoring me these last few weeks. I can't promise that it'll end with this race. Shoot...I can't even post a gardening blog until the whirli-gigs stop falling. And I hope that maybe you'll see that any/everyone can start this insanity.

Race Day Raiment. Not only was I color coordinated like a Chaplin movie, but Under-Armour was my unofficial race day sponsor....down to the wrist-bands. Note "hankerchief head-band of power".

Pre-race happiness. At the Depot, and before the pain, 6/5/11

Motivational phrases at the starting line.

The line of runners, along W. River Parkway on race day- 6/5/11

Finishing line. I won't lie...last year they had a marching band playing. And I really, REALLY wanted the marching band back.

There were 3-4 things I wanted for this race. Remember? Strong finish, Do not stop to walk, disregard the PR and run my own race. Oh, and be standing and smiling at the end. The Guiness...well that was another charitable act on behalf of some spectators. Thank you for the carbs and kindness.

Mama called them my MAGIC shoes...(Race day)

2011-06-02T11:00:00.000-07:00

Pictured: "Team Awesome"- Moda, Cap'n Dawn, Matthus, and some dude wearing a chopped up Spider-Man T-shirt in the interest of standing out and looking cool. Also note the MP3 player, slowly on it's way to working loose and being held for the remainder of the run. (ps- This was about mile 2 or so. So we're still pretty fresh and smiley) From the Mpls Half-Marathon 2010.

Well coming up on another half-Mary this Sunday and I've been getting more and more excited. Moda, Feej, and I will be carbing up on Friday. Packet Pick-Up will be on Saturday. And I'll be up and biking to the starting line bright and stupidly early on Sunday. Hooray!

My propensity for waxing nostalgic notwithstanding, I gotta say that it feels (this time around anyway) pretty chill going in. What I mean is, last year around this time I was a little nervous and not what you'd call the "Acme of Anticipation". Kind of the opposite, actually. And what happened? It wasn't what you'd call "calamitous"...(Oh...was it another bullet list you wanted?) Well, to recap before the race...

-I had only been "Training" training for a little over 2 months, with my longest run up until that point having been an 8-9 mile trail trot that I half-walked.

-The longest race I'd completed was the GIG 10K.

-Papa wanted himself a GOOD night sleep, so on top of the pre-race carbing and beers he made sure to put back a few V and T's.

-Papa ate himself a nice big breakfast and over a gallon of water. Then shotgunned another beer for some extra carbs.

-And we biked in the chilly morning over to the Depot SUPER early. Papa stretched and bitched and frassed and finally made two potty stops before the race began.

As for the race itself? Well the 1st four miles or so were okay. A+D were there to cheer. At mile 3 I was all flexing my arms for the friends I saw and just trying to keep pace with my group. By mile 5 Moda had powered on. By mile 6 I thought "This is nearly a 10K distance. I feel like I'm going soooo far". Also, this is where some of the half-marathoners were already powering back) By mile 7-8 I had already started (mostly) walking and having trouble taking deep breaths. By mile 12-13 I was hallucinating that non-existent friends were cheering me on and regretting the GU packet I swiped at the last water stop. (My bottle you see in the picture above? Bone dry)

I nearly crawled over the finish line. (I was happy I didn't puke.) I could barely stand and found myself quietly resentful that we had decided to bike there in the first place. The only things that made it worthwhile (besides sitting down) was the applause from some people who saw us at the Bulldog afterwards and recognized that we had just ran the race...and the dumb heavy-ass medal. (BTW- I finished in a little over 2:40, I think) And while they weren't bleeding...it certainly felt like someone had given me a titty twister. Ouch.

So why've I flipped? I don't know. I had an analogy in mind regarding people who jump out of an airplane for the first time and are scared but who then love subsequent jumps. So it's kiiind of like that? There's the prep. We've put up some heavy miles over the last year or so. I've logged quite a few more 12+ milers outside now and have actually ran them versus stopping to puke/walk. I've felt better on hills. We've run parts of the course again during training. I've been rocking the minimalist shoes and Vibrams. I've got some very good friends running it (for the first time. We'll have many high-fives to trade, Feej) And as opposed to last year with the dreaded fatalist mindset of "I just want to finish" I have a few new ones I've adopted for this year:

"I want to run the whole course and not walk"
"I'm not trippin' about my PR, but will be happy to finish sub-2:25 or 2:20" (I have a matinee, you see)
"I want to finish strong"
"I'm running my own race for me"

Pretty straight forward. I'm really digging on the Half-Mary's. I read an article in RW that they've been picking up momentum as the "challenging race of choice" for people who are on the fence about running a marathon or just want to get their toes wet in the running world. And who knows, maybe I'll eventually nut-up and try a full-Mary. (Gods know I'm proud/excited/worried for and about Moda doing Gramma's Mary the following weekend) It's just nice to know I have the option. Nicer still to know that in my head, I'd like to keep doing long-runs on the weekend with buddies around the nabe, around the lakes...just in case there's a half-Mary lurking around this summer we wanna jump into. Ha-HA!

So I'm hoping (fingers-crossed...barring an accident or injury) that the following picture you see below? The one I'll ask to take post-race this year? That'll be me, except standing up and smiling. Not squatting and grimacing in pain.

ps- I lied. There was a 3rd thing that made the run worthwhile and I would be remiss to forget to mention it: The people who come out to cheer. Last year I might've veered off course or knocked someone out of a wheelchair so I didn't have to run anymore if it wasn't for the people cheering us on and holding signs. Race fans improve the morale of the runners (IMO) exorbitantly, and I'd go so far as to say we really depend on that energy when we're digging deep. So if you're downtown this Sunday in the early a.m. Bring a chair, cop a squat, and clap yer hands. You'll have thousands of people grateful that you did.

Rock N' RUN!

2011-06-02T06:07:00.000-07:00

(Skip to the end if you just can't stop the music. This is mainly for my mom who complains of blog lenghth. No need to comment, Ma. This disclaimer is solely here to help you out!)

From the time I first started running, I've spent an ungodly amount of time in my head. And friends, this can be a terrible, terrible place to reside. I had one crazy summer in 1997 or so where I had this...thing...this am/fm thing that was the size of a pair of earmuffs sporting an antenna that I'd wear running my "Uptown Loop" from Lake to Franklin and back again. And since this was back in 1997 or so, "Tubthumpin" was on continuous loop. As was Alanis Morrisette. No good. And so when my sweaty melon finally shorted it out? I haven't used music during runs since.

Since my jaunts were usually 30 minute jobbies, I'd barely have enough time to plot world-domination much less what I was having for dinner so owning whatever the newest fangled music-listening device that was prevalent at the time wasn't a high priority to me. Now fast-Forward to last year when we started to put up 1-2 hour training runs. This takes "Inside Mikey Head-Time" to torturous water-boarded levels. Enter the kindness of my techonologically savvy friends to help me understand the (at the time already) outdated concept of: The MP3 player.

FeeJ was kind enough to give me her old model and Moda threw a bunch of tunes on it that she already had saved on her computer. So finally, I was able to plug in and tune out to some rockin' tunage. And while this was a fun period of adjustment for me and I no longer had to imagine what like would be like if I was filthy rich (A frequent fantasy while running), there were a few issues that I took with the technology. Minor quibbles, really.

First off:

-It was pink. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all, but yeah. No. Mikey No Pinkalicious.

-I stretched the arm strap so it wouldn't stay on, so I had to carry it in my hand. (Probably because of my BIG MUSCLES!) Plus my fat fumbly fingers couldn't skip songs very well. See the next bullet.

-While there was plenty of Michael Jackson (Thanks dear!) and Beyonce' et.al. which were upbeat and peppy? There'd occasionally be some of "FeeJ's Favorites" on there as well...namely, Jason Mraz. I have nothing personal against Mr. Mraz or his music, but after having the aforementioned Michael Jackson beats dropped, his music tends to acts like a drag parachute.

And that's the thing. Music and the beat, it's said, quickens your pace a bit. Adds to your energy. I can get behind that. When Moda's pa Panja hooked me up with an Ipod + clip last summer to replace the awkward MP3 (Lookit Mikey getting all the tech handouts!) and she loaded it up with her distance training mix (which was much more consistently peppy and beat-heavy. Nary a Dolly Parton song to be found), I had many months on my own to try and calculate/imagine what my personal race soundtrack would be. (Sorry, love. I'm not besmerching your mix. The beats got me through nearly 100's of runs)

So today, (After I finally launched into the 21st century and got an Itunes account of my own) I'm sharing the Mikey Mega-Run Mix Playlist. (Truncated version 1.0) For some reason I thought it'd be full of 80's montage power ballads (And they're on there, oh yes), but I ended up with an eclectic array that I've found to be encouraging on my long runs, and strangely enough...mildly inspirational? As long as I don't wind myself during the race playing air drums during "Sister Christian" or trying to sing along. Ahem. Feel free to bogart some of the titles for yourselves...

(An * indicates a song that I can't help but listen to twice. This isn't the full list, mind you. I put about 2.5 hours worth of music on there which is...I hope...enough time to finish the Half-Mary without doubling back through the playlist. I even categorized them.)

YOU WILL RUN. YOU WILL RUN FAR AND FAST AND IT IS GLORIOUS. DROP A BEAT!

Montage Music/80's
- "Live to Win" (Paul Stanley) Doi. If you've seen the MMPORG "South Park"...you'll know. Goofy.
- "Eye of the Tiger"/"Burning Hearts" (Survivor) You will beat up Russians.
- "Sister Christian" *(Night Ranger) Yeah. Twice. It rules.
- "Doctor Feelgood" (The motherlovin CRUE)

Mike's music tastes are stuck in High School between 1989-1993
- "Poison" (Bel Biv Davoe)
- "I'm gonna Knock You Out" (LL Cool J)
- "Good Vibrations" (Marky Mark mit der Funky Bunch)
- "Gonna Make You Sweat" (C+C Music Factory)
- "I've got the Power" (Snap! To be fair, I envision the movie "The Perfect Weapon" when I hear this)
- "Freedom-90" (George Michael. I have fond...fond memories of this song. My earliest workouts in my parents basement used to consist of running in place, doing jumping jacks and push-ups, all while watching "MTV". And this video? Mega Hot to a 15 year old. Get out of the tub, Ms. Evangelista. Please?)
- "Roam" * (B-52's. Reminds me of mall cruising Brookdale and Orange Julius)

Michael Jackson
- "Beat It", "Thriller", "The Way You Make Me Feel", "Bad". I should mention my Janet hold out is "If"...b/c it's great. And yeah. MJ. 'Nuff Said.

Mo-ldovers from the MP3 days
- "All the Single Ladies" * (Beyonce') What? I'll cut you.
- "My First Mistake" * (Jellyfish)
- "Low" (T-Pain) "Apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur...The whole club was like: 'Hey, that fat chick hates cardio and animals'!" (Not my quote, fyi)
- "Buttons" (Pussy Cat Dolls feat. Snoop-dogg) I'll explain this later.
- "I'm going on"/"Run" (Gnarles Barkley) Awesome...awesome running songs.

Goofy WTF'ers
- "I'm Awesome" (Spose) Look...don't knock it until you've worked out to it.
- "Thong Song" (Sisqo) Like "Buttons"? When you need to dig deep? Really really deep? And it's, like, mile 10 or so? You could do worse than songs dealing with women getting undressed. IJS.
- "Calling Baton Rouge" *(Garth Brooks) STOP WITH YOUR JUDGEMENT!

Weight, Weight...don't tell me...

2011-05-30T09:55:00.000-07:00

Or, "Confessions of a banana-rexic"...Full disclaimer friends- This week, the old blog is going to be almost solely dedicated to running shit. The Mpls. Half-Marathon is coming up in less than a week and it's got me mooooore than excited. Also, this will probably be yet another devisive posts. As always, consult a doctor or dietician before engaging in any drastic changes in your diet or you could DIE! Remember, this worked for me- not you. Annnnnnd speaking of dieticians...)

So on the bulletin board at the gym, they have apparently hired themselves a dietician. She's pretty. Fit. Blonde. Sunkissed (all of this I surmised by her photo.) She has the appropriate pedigree (Master's in Biology, Foodology, Physiology or what have you.) She even included below her biography/introduction page her favorite recipe for "healthy" waffles... and smoothies.

And I. Don't. Trust her.

I mean, is it just me or would you trust Pamela Anderson to tell you what to eat, or Baron Vladimir Harkonnen?
Pictured: A guy that knows his sandwiches. Incidentally, this was found on a website titled "Fat Bad Guys". Thought I'd share.

I'm kidding, of course. I think that dieticians and personal trainers both are integral to adopting a safe and healthy lifestyle impetus. I've just never had much use for either, you know? I mean, frassing to friends and family about how I already know I eat healthy, I substitute whatever for whatever is fat free...I don't know. I guess I figured I already knew how to eat healthy. What I didn't figure is that I was such a damn poser about it.

Look. I don't mean to brag, but I've lost some weight. It's true. The other day before I engaged in a big lawn project I started looking for a pair of my grubby jeans. I ended up grabbing some from the musty pile of discards in the basement...only realizing that they weren't my torn up grubbies from the thrift store but my old "good" Gap jeans.

That I haven't been able to wear since before the cruise in 2008

Pictured- 34 X 30's being held up by a belt. And before you roll your eyes and tell me I'm flexing, you up and use an edger tiller for 4 hours and try mulching up a 4x3 section of new garden and see if you aren't exhaus...and I've been working pretty gawdamn hard at the gym...you know what? Forget it. Just...hey, 34 x 30's btw.

And just today, I weighed myself on the Devil-scale at the gym. As much as I hated it for showing a weight that was closer to 200 lbs 3-4 months ago I'm hoping that it isn't pulling my leg this time by saying that my weight was below 180.

For the first time. In over 3 years.

So here is the part where (if you've actually been following along, per normal) I reveal my huge free fitness secret. You can attribute it to running shitty long-distances over the last 3 months or so. Cutting out hard liquor last Fall. Whatever. I think it's mostly getting to the point in my training where I've figured out how to re-direct my terrible relationship with portion sizes and how certain foods affect me physically on a daily basis... and also from the standpoint of what fuel is most useful in helping me train effectively. And it turns out, I realized that I had a lot of what NASA refers to as "Solid Fuel" to use. In part...

1) The banana-rexic thing is a joke Moda and I came up with after I'd been so busy w/work et.al that I showed up for dinner starving because "All I had to eat today was a banana". (Truth) The reality is that I've figured out that I was (again) eating for the sake of eating at proscribed times, caving in to my snacky mentality, over-eating with the mindset that I was "in training", and binge-eating when my budget or time would allow. (Again, justifying a trip to Holy Land or Great Dragon buffet was a good idea to help eat more protein. Riiiight)

So I just stopped doing that. I started by drinking a lot more water and flavored sugar-free soda water in the morning and would just...put off having my breakfast yogurt and banana until closer to 10 am or so. I felt hungry by the time I needed to eat them, and it was close enough to lunch that it didn't make sense to me to snack or eat anything else before noon.

Annnnnnd I kind of went vegetarian. Kind of. Actually, mostly. (editors note: I'll probably bend your ear on another blog regarding how I've changed on this standpoint on this over the last 15 years or so. It's definitely fuel for another story.) Outside of being a good way to get your nutrients and roughage, I found that eating a whole box (sorry Moda) of Morningstar (insert the following: Mini-corn dogs, Buffalo Nugs, Ribs, Spicy Black Bean Burger) was a good way to get my lunch fix out of the way and not feel hungry until dinner. During tech, I'd have some soup and a large piece of crusty bread before hitting the in-house gym and if I was SO hungry I couldn't take it? I'd grab a Clif bar from S.A. and another liter of water. At night, I'd get home tired so I wasn't eating a big meal before bed. Then I'd repeat the routine during the work week.

On weekends I'd cheat, sure. It felt (sort of) uncomfortable eating a big breakfast and I found that I wasn't able to finish the big meals that I used to polish off in a sitting. And I usually wound up full enough to go the rest of the day doing chores/training/projects until dinner. Eater's remorse usually wasn't a factor because I'd try to go into the meal knowing if I demolished half a pizza, I'd wind up feeling like shit.

The biggest piece of my own advice that (I guess) I'd give away is this- It's important to stay hungry mentally and physically. To work on really, really getting the most enjoyment out of meals by holding off on eating them, and not eating it all of it in a sitting. And the trick, the hard part? Is disciplining yourself enough not to give in and gorge when the meal comes around.

2) That whole "solid fuel" joke and part about going vegetarian? Really wasn't all that jokey. Okay, so it's known in running circles that the idea of "carbing up" isn't all that smart to do the day right BEFORE the race. (Giving your body the time to break it down into usable glucose stores for extended running after having eaten a mere 8 hours before race day? Right. It doesn't make much sense. Two days? Gives you enough time to break it down.)

My pre-long race foods the night before are usually roughage heavy or (my favorite)= Sushi. Get a little Omega 3 in there, some rice, and I'm good to go the next morning without feeling too stuffed or acid reflux-y. And post-race? The idea of grease/beer/etc. is almost as nauseating to me as smelling bad milk. (I just...ugh. I want something simple. My tummy just gets messed UP post-distance runs.)

As for the solid fuel line, it's because of a comment that D-Gangs made a few months ago. The way I see it, I had a lot of fuel (extra adipose) wrapped around my waist. A lot. Male-Muffin Top, whatever. So whenever I was on a regular training run and after having a limited calorie daily diet I'd make it so that I was visualizing using "What I Had in the Tank". (And it's GOOD fuel. The chubs-sorry- are a rich source of energy to push you through.)

I didn't do this stupidly, mind you. I knew the 2 days before long runs I needed to carb up and I didn't place myself in the realm of ridiculous by starving myself. (Useless ideology if you ask me. Food tastes too good, and having no energy to run/lift makes the concept of getting stronger/improving PR's invalid.) But yeah. On my 3-6 miles early jaunts I eschewed having toast or a waffle and bread-y things for a banana and loading up on some water. Easy enough. And my energy has been fine.

And I'm down quite a few l.b.esses.

So that's the big secret. Hollywood stars and models need to work out a shit ton and starve themselves. It's true, and it's true. And if you think to the contrary, you're very very wrong. Starve. Themselves. And I'm vain, but not that vain to wanna look like I've been in a slave camp. But I am admittedly vain enough to use the fuel I had on me to push me through the training and feel good physically and in terms of self-image.

Bottom line- eat less. Do more cardio. It's the same formula that's been around for ages.

Movie Review: "Role Models"

2011-05-26T11:44:00.000-07:00

"Role Models" (2008) is currently available on DVD and Netflix.

I don't know why I waited so long to check out this movie after I watched it since it turned out to be a lot better than I expected it to be. (Oh wait, yes I do. The trailers made it seem hyper-formulaic, McLovin from "Superbad" looked like he was about to get stuck in a character rut until he grew older and developed a drug-habit, and it had Stifler in it. And that dude bugs. Mind you, I like Paul Rudd but everything he touches does not -in fact- turn to gold)

Two buddies who work for an energy drink company get into trouble and as part of their court-ordered community service wind up acting as mentors to two children who carry baggage of their own. (One, a Larping Social Misfit and the other a sassy boob-obsessed foul mouthed miscreant.) Hijinks ensue, and along the way they all learn something about growing up. And, scene.

Lame premise, right?

It took me a few minutes finding myself laughing at the dialogue (which was funny, without being too glib or dirty) to figure out why I was digging on it so much: David Wain directed it. Doi. So the easy review is if you were in to the off-center comedy of "The State", "Wet Hot American Summer", "Stella", etc. then you'll probably enjoy the heck out of this film.

Paul Rudd still plays deadpan/snarky/sarcastic but it's layered with this world-weariness ("Am I getting too old to do these stupid Bromance Comedies?") and coupled with Sean William Scott- Still playing a motormouth d-bag- (Who again, makes you wonder if it's the 30-something guy who just didn't grow out of the frat party), it works to give a balanced tone throughout the narrative. Likewise, the kids end up being a large part how their characters grow, but they don't ever let them fall back while the big-names take center-stage.

And Oh...oh...Joe LoTruglio...nearly made me wet myself.

A lot of times when film has a tagline of having dialogue that's "largely improvised", I'm left a little skeptical. Done well, you get memorable dialogue and and a top grossing comedy. Done poorly, you get actors who pull a Jimmy Fallon and look at each other like they're waiting to laugh and rambly diatribes that never seem to end. Here, you just have to listen to Jane Lynch give her motivational speeches and admonishing lectures just to see how sublime, effortless, and pointed it can be. (And dear God...so, so funny. Hang out through the credits to watch her "hot dog" bit)

I won't lie. I'd even hazard to say that I'd own this one. It was that funny and repeat viewings would probably open up more opportunities to catch missed laughter.

Or I'm just into the schtick of the guys who did "The State". Either way, a pretty great film.

3/4

PS- Outside of playing "Miri", Elizabeth Banks must be making it a career move to play characters with variations on her first name. Here, we have her as "Beth"...yet again.

Rapture Crapture

2011-05-23T05:36:00.001-07:00

Wasn't there something about the end of the world this last weekend? What with the goody-two-shoes being grabbed by an invisible hand and being taken to heaven or something? (It kind of reminded me of the episode of "Six Feet Under" where the woman is driving along and the truck full of inflatable x-rated blow-up dolls loses it's cargo and she gets into an accident watching all the bodies "ascend" into heaven, mistaking it for the rapture. Anyone? Anyone?)

Well it didn't happen, whatever it was. I was kind of hoping for a zombie apocolypse (*). At least that was something I was prepared for.

Pictured: Far too many sharp objects for a person to have laying around and not be used for beheading zombies, or dicing produce. Please note, I was all set to have a party. You know. Bring your own shotgun, canned goods, bottled water, etc. Hole up in the basement. Take out a zombie one at a time as they come down the stairs and enjoy a cheese flight. That sort of thing.

Instead of the rapture, we received a mini-smoting that took the form of a tornado that remarkably didn't come ripping up through the Southern and Western parts of the metro and decided to just touch down whereever it darn-well pleased: Meaning the Northside.

Of COURSE I only found this out as I was leaving the matinee and I received a few frantic voice messages from my mom and later when listening to NPR on my way home and hearing the damage reports. (And yes, once again I found myself in a show during storm season completely oblivious to the weather outside. It was different from the old summers 7-8 years ago where CRPC was pretty much right next to a storm siren so if it went off, we'd stop, then re-state our line and keep going. Now I'm in a black box and we managed to barrel through a 68 minute matinee with a group of sassy seniors and didn't hear boo. And to think we were worried about the musical in the theater next to us being distracting.)

Anyway, I got home for a quick damage assessment and then started to check Facebook for the remainder of the afternoon and evening to see what was the status of my friends who live in North Mipples... only now realizing (due to Facebook) that I have quite a few more buddies on the North side than I thought. Further still, being grateful that other people in the world were throwing their good will and concern into cyber-space, and more over that everyone who responded (and their pets) are all okay. Joplin, MO got f#cked yesterday by their tornadoes, and as always it could have been a lot worse.

Speaking of- I don't have any pics to show you since I didn't have even a knocked over herb pot to show for it. (Really? I think I've experienced at least 8-9 tornado-y severe weather systems in the last 6 years that I've been in my house and nary a ONE decides to knock that decrepit pine tree over onto my s#itty garage? Right. Right. Gratitude, Michael. Please.) Poor FeeJ, however, took some pretty impressive damage to her home and needed some emergency chainsaw action for her tree. This, of course, made me realize that the closest chainsaw I have is in my mom's garage where she currently isn't using it and if it was in MY possession I could have totally been a hero yesterday and lent my services.

Come to think of it...a chainsaw would have tooootally been useful for the zombie apocolypse, doi. Two birds with one stone and all that.

*Zombies have been on my list of unnatural fears since I was 7-8 years old and the concept of death was very scary to me. That and the "Thriller" video running ad nauseum on MTV made me fret every time we drove past a cemetary. I fully expected to see the dead burst forth from the earth and start break-dancing or showing jazz hands.

1 Angry Opening...wait, that sounded bad.

2011-05-19T20:18:00.001-07:00

I TOLD You! There is some MAD hackting going on here. Even "Angry". See what I did there?

We're opening tonight, friends. If you're a F'Booker you've see a few of the photo's that I've posted for this monster. Everything about it has been a great, and it's been a pleasure working with the cast. (They are some mighty talented people. And for s#it's sake, it's the first time I've worked with 80% of'em! You want my personal reason I think theater is made of awesome? Okay, so you have your friends/buddies/softball team...whatever. And then you all sit down, stand up, move around, told where to go, and get to create something really, really cool. All together. And then afterwards, you get drunk and tell the same stories from that one show that one time.)

I don't get schmoogly that often over shows, but this one is going to be good. C'mon down and get yerself entertained!

And, you know...it's short. Clips along. Like a Fringe show.

I told you it was a very "Indiana Jones" suit.

Humble Garden Beginnings take 4, er, 1...

2011-05-16T13:12:00.001-07:00

The title of today's piece is because I realize that over the last year or so I've been writing repeat blog title's. Not a big deal, but "It's the Day of the Race, Y'all" before the Get in Gear 10K? EXACT same shit I typed last year at the same time. I'm an Uncreative Urkel.

Please note...the following post is very sad:

While it's with some excitement that comes with the Spring planting season, it's also a marked change. Since we humbly started our garden 4 seasons ago (when it was about the size of a door frame)it was done so as a joint venture. Since Moda has finally moved into her new home, she will be embarking on landscaping and gardening tasks of her own tastes and fancies. While we still plan on being "Bi-Coastal" gardeners (if you can count Central Ave and 37th Ave NE as the divider) it does mean a few changes for my routine personally.

I confess that while the property was mine, I was more than happy to sit back and let Moda do the general puttering and maintenence during the planting and harvest season. (To be fair, it wasn't really a case of "I'm gonna sit back and dick around while she's pulling up weeds. I've been the garden expander and mulch/dirt hauler in addition to the expense sharer when it comes to the usual plantings. In addition to the other maintenence and landscaping as well. Hey. Just speaking my piece, fools.)

Anyway, the kerflufflings at her new casa in addition to my roommate being smack in the middle of finals (read: He gets up, plants himself in front of his laptop in the nook, and doesn't excise himself until the late hours) means something new to me, or at least, as new as an experience can be around your home of 6 years: I'm relegated to doing most of this shit all by myself.

I know, I know, "Woe is me" but really it's going to be fodder for a new style of humble beginnings in which you get my gardening skills which tend to lean toward barrelling into things headlong versus the smarter method planned research my S.O. tends to do. It should prove exciting.

Lastly, I've decided to make a few more projects happen. While doing internal repair/design/remodelling typically scares me, landscaping projects are an area where I feel that it only takes a little moxie, muscle, and the werewithal to make your dreams come true. That, and a metric f#ck-ton of cedar mulch.

So in the interest of giving you pictures for those disinclined to read these dumb things: Here is the beginnings of the Great Garden/Landscaping/Bounty extravaganza 2011!

It's like the "Great Muppet Caper", but with foliage!(Stage 1.5: The topmost picture is my front planter. The tulips are all up and happy and ready to die, yet again. Or get eaten by the bun-buns. The marigolds are planted for some consistent color)

Pictured: The author with his gumption in tact and new work gloves. While the cost of the dumb things is about as much as a 6-pack of the black/yellow work gloves my father was fond of, I find the ability to have a better grip and dexterity to be helpful. And, they have some nice padding in addition to mesh backs. So they breathe.

I usually have to replace my Shepard's Crook hanging basket annually and this year I went with the coconut fiber bottom. I'm sad to say it's already manky and will probably need replaced toute suite. Bad investment, that. However, by way of a housewarming/gardenwarming gift I did hook up Moda with her own Shep/Crook and black & white Dafoodils in a hanging basket. Thanks, Farmers market!

My favorite: The lilac boarders. They're a little late due to the cold hanging out so long, but they're purpling up nicely. (And I have a few whitey's as well) I'm anxious for the 5 days or so that they smell will waft through my open windows. (Not pictured, the de-vining I had to do. Scratched myself up good doing that crap)

Right. The little rosemary that could. Planted last season, we brought her in during the winter and surprisingly she hung on in spite of bouts of mankiness. Go figure, the first time I think it's okay to move outside, boom. So it was off to compost heaven, just in time to make room for...

my first Farmer's Market visit! Alone! What? I don't know...it's always been a partner trip for me. I knew that I wanted to get my herbs potted but to hold off on veggies until next week going into June. The assortment was 1st split up (Moda got half) and the rest with the things we use regularly around the kitchen: Basil, Cilantro, Italian Parsley, new Rosemary, etc. ALSO, I bought my first asparagus plant. Had we planted some around the 1st year we made the garden, we'd have been enjoying potty smells for the last two seasons. Now, I won't be able to enjoy it until I'm nearing 40 years of age. My potty should still smell.

And there she is. Dusty and rusty, but ready to go. I'm doing what I've (repeatedly) told myself I wasn't going to do and expand her out about 2-3 more feet. I figure it'll give me another few fighting feet to keep the Creeping Charlie at bay, and It'll give me room to put more things in it. (Right now, we're experiencing the joys of nearly half my garden being taken up by garlic. The scapes, I'm sure, will be delish-come June. However there was the tiny issue of room for the rest of the garden. I'm planning on tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, and maybe-Mayyyyybe some Zukes. I already tossed a handful of green onions in a pot so they don't blow up. We'll see)

More dirt was needed where it settled over the winter. I'd read that adding manure/compost early on will help maintain a rich soil base for the summer. So you're looking at around 300 lbs of shit and dirt. And it's heavy, and spread. (My composter is still digesting, as you can see. Note- I was able to convince my roommate that turning the composter every two weeks is "good exercise." He responded by asking if he could do it more than every two weeks. No lie.)

These next two pictured above and below are the areas in my yard where I plan on doing the majority of my landscaping projects this summer. My yard is divvied up into sort of a "Quad", with the garden being the furthest back, then the small lot behind the garage, then closer to the house with the patio/grill on one side and the boxelder on the other. Soooooo, to reduce the amount of lawn to maintain I'm planning on tearing it up where it gets the most direct sun and subsequently requires the most water and covering it with mulch- Then finishing by planting some native perrenials to pretty it up. That'll leave the front yard and the far back as the only mowable patches. And I need a bocce court.

Movie Review: "Bridesmaids"

2011-05-16T06:30:00.000-07:00

Spoilers Spoilers Spoilers...This should come as no surprise, but if you really don't want to know Jack about this before you see it then you should skip this.

Because guess what?

People get married. SURPRISE!

This one has been on my radar since I first saw the trailer a few months ago, and I finally had a date night last night so that we could go see it. While I like going into anticipated movies with high-ish expectations and have it invariably not disappoint- It doesn't hurt that I have a mini-crush on Kristen Wiig and her "brand of comedy". (And I HATE falling back on cliche's. Bleargh. Anyway...)

Nutshell Plot Synopsis:

Plucky single gal Annie (Wiig) gets tapped by her childhood BFF Lillian (Maya Rudolph) to be the maid of honor at her wedding. Competetion for her affection and feelings of self-doubt/worth are added when a new friend (Rose Byrne)seeks to usurp her role. When the bridesmaids are assembled, hijinks ensue.

Hooookay. Were you trying to win points with your girlfriend, Michael? What's up?

Look, it was really, really funny. I've read a lot the (cough) "cheaper" reviews have said things like (From the poster on the wiki page, and I quote) "Chick Flicks don't have to suck!". Really? Reeeeeally? That's, uh, that's really fricking stupid. Why not skip the stupidity and just present the facts of the matter? And the fact is, Kristen Wiig co-wrote a really great film.

Look, we've all seen doofy ensemble pieces when they have a penis slapped on them, and while I think trying to make a comparison to a similar genre piece is natural (ala' "The Hangover", which could easily have been "Bachelor Party: The Next Generation") I think it does a disservice to the movie they've created. A solid, laugh-out-loud and highly recommendable film- Good for a date night, "chick flick", whatever.

I mean, there've been a wealth of gross-out joints, improvised yuck-fests, and "high-brow" meta-wink-at-the-audience every 5 minutes, that have permeated theaters for the last 10 years or so. And I'd like to go on record that you might want to try and go into this with some weird preconception before hand. And then get your ass surprised.

So it's well written. Did you laugh?

Almost from the get-go. From Wiig's initial banter with her cad-tastic booty-call (Jon Hamm), to the introduction of the remaining bridesmaids- all of whom bring a unique stamp to characters that could have easily been played too broadly or stereotypically. Gone are the prat-falls, sassy know-it-alls, the need to age the protaganist 30 years old to learn a lesson, or dumb plot-point of sending out the guy for tampons just to see if they're worthy. And, points for not having a McConaughey in site.

And the most unbelievably hilarious and cringe-worthy scene involving food poisoning, dress-fittings, and pants-pooping.

And some of my favorite scene's are with Wiig and Rudolph just having casual banter over coffee or wine. It felt real. And if you give me an honest scene, I'll go with you for 90-100 minutes. Moreover, (and doubling back to characters who aren't played ridiculously broad) the love interest is given clever dialogue that doesn't make them immediately the obvious "best guy for her" but makes them a decent guy with decent intentions. Does it make her booty call look bad? Yeah, but it's Don Draper. The guy sells the line "Time for a lap nap" like nobodies business.

I'll talk about my favorite character in a minute.

Fine, fine. To what would you speak ill?

Not much, actually. There are a few scenes "sans laughs" that go on a leeeeetle bit too long, so it felt occasionally draggy. And here's where I wanna talk about my favorite bridesmaid of the bunch- Melissa McArthy as "Megan". If you've seen the preview, you know she's the crass one. And as a result, she gets a lion's share of the biggest laughs throughout the movie. (And she fearlessly earns the shit out of them. I don't think there was one scene she was in that I didn't laugh obnoxiously or immediately repeat what she just said out loud b/c I couldn't believe what I had just heard)

Overall they were sporting some impressive cast members: You had "Reno 911's" Wendi McLendon-Lovey as the "sex-starved" housewife, "The Office"s Ellie Kemper as the sweet and prudish bridesmaid...so I guess if I had one beef it's that I wanted more of where they were going. (In their brief pieces of dialogue they had some great bits. And I'm really just happy they stayed away from making their bits into "What hijinks will they get to Vegas?" type-shenanigans. See? It's hard to find something bad about it.)

Oh, I'm also a little tired of the "Say Anthing" ending when the gal gets her guy that you've been rooting for. In a film that felt original a fun, it seemed an awful lot like how "The House Bunny" ended. (Another terrific comedy)

So you recommend?

Yup. I'd even go so far to say that this is a flick that would be fun to have on the DVD shelf. (The true mark of a good comedy is if it holds up to repeat viewings. That and how much can I quote it later, I suppose. But Moda has nixed my saying "Lap Nap" if I'm feeling amorous.)

My biggest hope is that these women continue to raise the bar in all-female ensemble comedies and that people keep going to see them. After the movie, a teary Moda said it best: "Weddings are hard". Ain't that the truth? So is comedy. And this movie played them well. With a dash of Wilson Phillips.

4/5 Stars

Twangryman!

2011-05-12T06:01:00.000-07:00

It's probably high-time I stopped frassin about running and workouts since I'm nigh-on positive it's starting to grate on my 2 to 3 easy-readers. I haven't said boo (really) about Thee-hater since "Joseph" so I figured I'm due for a blog about the boards.

First up:

We're finishing up a quick N' dirty rehearsal run for "12 Angry White Dudes Frassin" and heading into tech next week. I've mentioned previously that since finding out I was cast in it way back in the Fall (Jeebus. That long ago?) I've been sick-excited to start rehearsing. And the best part is that it's been about as awesome as I'd anticipated. Without getting into self-loathing too much, working with talented basterds like these guys is always challenging and fulfilling on many levels for myself as a performer. Mostly because it forces me to get out of my natural comfort zone and dig deep to play ball with the big boys. And to stop with my natural approach to scene work and character study: Hair-Acting. (Or "Hacting", if you prefer truncation)

See, I really...reeeeally don't feel I've honed in on the center of my character until I've made a discovery about what kind of facial hair or hair style the person is. "Does he have a Van Dyke or a full beard?" or "Is this a right-side part or a left-side part" become as vital and important of questions as "What's my motivation". (The answer? A Nap. Always.)

The second part is the costume. Since this is a period piece, we've been bedecked in the finest 50's apparel. Which for yours truly- Juror #6? Means a three-piece-suit...Yeeeeeeah bitches. Now, wearing the thing does give you a certain posturing and an early "Mad Men" vibe. To tell the truth, is that it actually makes me feel more like Indiana Jones when he's describing the Ark to the Army guys in "Raiders".

(Pictured: Mileage, not years. And this actor's extraordinary false sense of image)

I'm gonna see if I can buy it after the run. The thing is too damn nice. Timeless, even. Speaking of getting a suit after a gig:

Tonight is the PRE-miere of the lil' docu-skit I shot last summer. (Remember? The frightening experience of learning to drive stick in a Model-A car?) We'll be taking to the Mounds theater and...well it's cool that they're hosting an event at movie-house to show this thing but I was a little hesitant to attend. Firstly I don't want to be put out on my night off from rehearsal b/c I tend to be lazy like that and want to catch up on my Netflixing. Secondly, and the real reason, is I don't want to see my big fat face on the big fat screen in any capacity. I haaaate seeing myself on film. (Sure, I'll post it for others, but ugh. There's a reason I have a face for radio. And it was back when I was pounding the vodka. Hello water-retention and the additional 20 lbs the camera adds.)

Anyway, it was a good experience to shoot and I had a good time doing it. The least I can do is get over myself, be a supportive cast-member, and stop pretending to be the actron who hates premieres and seeing themselves on camera long enough to take my mom on a date to see it. Okay? Shut up. If you haven't seen it, the trailer and information about the movie are here.

Lastly...and speaking of suits...here's the vid I shot a few weeks back with my buddy Ry-Gonn. If you're curious as to why my hackting is so stilted and Shatnerian...well you try memorizing your script same-day and learning to say the name of a firm after you've been jokingly calling it goofy nick-names for fun. It's not all glamor.

And what did I say? The rakish mop truly adds to the character.

Someday, I'll be able to peel a banana with'em...

2011-05-09T08:12:00.001-07:00

A few weeks back when Spring started her evil tease, I relegated a few hours to raking up and thatching the back and front yards to get the leaves which had been covered by our early November snowfall and rotting under the snow during our endless winter. I headed out to the mud room and slipped on my "outdoor shoes", which in my home generally means "whatever running shoes I retired from the last year". (And these particular trainers were the 1st investment shoe I made when I started race training properly last March. A comfortable shoe is a must for lawn frassin', and those b#tches were done broke in)

After a few hours and with the full knowledge that I'd be a little sore from raking, I was surprised waking up the next morning when I discovered that I could also barely walk. My knees, which hadn't been problematic since this seasons race training (knock on wood) and hips felt like there were hot spiky bands wrapped around them. Sure , I had ran and lifted earlier that day. But this wasn't workout-soreness. Noooo...this...this was shitty and acute pain. And it wasn't until the next time I attempted to tenderly go for a run that it occurred to me...

These a$$holes were still in those "retired" running shoes:

I've mentioned the fun that comes with race training and seeing how far you've come- even if it's only your first or second season. When Moda and I started last year, she was gung ho- collecting as many facts and as much information as she could about marathon racing which was why we found ourselves making our first trip to a running store for a free, professional assesment of our running gaits in order to determine a good shoe/insert that would fit our needs, and help diminish the potential for injury. I had had some pre-existing issues, sure. I was a casual jogger at best at that point...but I figure I'd try anything to keep me hale and hearty. $25 later and with the assurances of the clerk that these were a decent mid-range running shoe insert- we were off to the trails.

Except Moda was still having some hip and knee issues. And grew frustrated. So she continued with her reading and researching. (For my part, I was just gritting my teeth to get through the pain and felt like I was being supportive when actuall I was just following along.) After a few weeks, she started reading up about the recent increase in the idea of barefoot running, more specifically, the onset of the five-finger running shoe- popularized by Vibram.

Behold the Vibram weird f#cking shoe (tm):

If you've managed to read this far, please note that this isn't trying to be a sales pitch, soapbox, or the gospel of safe and injury-free running. I'm completely and totally aware of the parade-pissing-party that happens when you mention Veebs around runners and atheletes- Whether it's from an aesthetic standpoint, or how the idea that barefoot running is "better" for you is unfounded medically speaking.

So if you want: I'd encourage you to read to your precious pink hearts content about the arguments, the studies, the historical significance of barefoot running, the testimonies, the naysayers. All that shit is out there for your perusal on teh interwebs. Go ahead. I'll wait. I'm all for being an informed runner/lifter etc.

What I'm trying to tell you, is just my...little old me? MY experience with the ugly sumbitches. Dig? So chillax. And as always, do what works, what's safest, what keeps you healthiest...and most importantly- What feels good.

Ohhhh HA HA HA HA HA!!! At first, I had a field day at her expense. I laughed at how they sounded when she ran. (With this weird "clopping" noise.) I asked if she'd be able to use her feet for cooking and chopping and driving. I quietly judged when she said her calves and quads were burning and I wondered if anyone was staring at the woman running barefoot on the treadmill at the gym. Or if they'd even wanna use it afterward. I was not what you'd call a convert.

Except- while we started running distances at about the same level/effort? You know...together? She amped up her training and started running farther, longer, faster, and stronger. The best I could do was stop with the sarcasm and teasing. And of course, eat her dust while I'd walk up hills, take NUMEROUS breaks, and usually...sometimes. A lot of times...just turn around outright and let her go while I walked back to the car. (Insert "Incredible Hulk" ending theme)

Eventually, she shucked her original trainers entirely, invested in Nike Free's, and started cross-training. It was around this time she lent me that great book which talks about Veebs, Free's, and Barefoot running in general. Yes, it gets preachy on occasion- But it's still a fascinating and entertaining book. And so while a laggard like me, who hates bandwagonning with an unbridled passion? Well I could get behind some of the speaking points. And I found some of the applications to be not only educational, but invariably put me over the fence into the minimalist running camp. So for your benefit/amusement, here are some of the basic bullets I've learned from minimalist/barefoot training incorporated with running technique that has helped me within the last 6-7 months.

(I know, right? It's always f#cked me up to think that something as elementary and rudimentary as RUNNING has to have a correct "form". I've been running since I was a TODDLER fer Chrissakes. Like I said...I just...well it was hard to wrap my head around.)

-Within the last 30 odd years or so, modern orthotics have provided a marked increase in the amount of, and different types of cushioning in athletic shoes.

-The more heel cushioning (for example) allows for the body to naturally impact harder when running outside. It also increases our tendency to have a harder heel-toe footstrike versus the "safer" mid-stride footstrike. So you land harder? You make a greater impact on your hips and knees. Or think about...

-Jog in place. Go on. (This is what made me think about the arguments for a minute) The idea is that how you jog in place is the natural way your body is meant to run: Smaller strides, mid-to-front range foot strikes, and your hips and upper body in alignment. The idea being your form shouldn't try and emulate a gazelle or a sprinter, but (sorry) a mall-walker moving faster. This is why I said in previous posts that running can and should be more involved in your head when it comes to doing it safely and to reduce the potential for injury. Moreover, by improving your form and footstrike you're activating and using the muscle which power you on your run: Glutes, Calves, and Quads.

-(Now, this next part is what gets everyone kerfluffling) Barefoot/minimalist running helps to engage the musculature and ligature of the feet to help improve resilience and foot strength, as well as endurance and posture. Collegiate coaches in track and cross-country will have their teams train barefoot on the track to improve their form, and race-historians have made observations that race times experienced a decrease from the first popularized heyday of marathoning in the late 60's-early 70's when cushioned shoes were made for people who wanted to be a runner but also wanted it to feel comfortable.

Vibrams were originally intended to be deck shoes for professional sailors b/c they emulated the natural contours of the foot and allowed for grippage. About 7-8 years ago, a barefoot running advocate lobbied to be their poster-boy. And so- The barefoot runners now had a minimalist and protected way to keep their feet safe from the elements and dangers of a wayward pebble or stick. And now the applications for them have reached into Yoga, Hiking, Martial Arts...you name it they've found a way to give you a new kind of Veeb.

So what did I do that was so different? I didn't have "chronic" pain. Sure, I was unhappy with my times during runs. Was that enough of an excuse to invest? Well as luck would have it, two things happened. The first? My mileage was up on my shoes. Various experts have various #'s when it comes to "when" you should retire your trainers. Since I'd put on about 400+ miles I figured new shoes were in order. So I frassed w/Moda and shopped around, which brought me to the 2nd thing- No one was carrying Nike Free's except the specialty stores. So I ended up with a model of minimalist shoe "1-Up" from the Free's. And they ended up being a good fit.

The Lunar Fly:

A few weeks later, as a treat to myself for my new job, I got myself some Veebs. I wore them casually at first- To the cabin. Around the yard. They were awkward. I had to endure a fair bit of ribbing from my family. Although I admit I enjoyed how it felt with the world underneath me, remembering how much fun it was to be barefoot as a kid. How sticks and rocks were "there" but not something to make you cuss and grab your foot. Eventually, I started wearing them to musical choreography rehearsals which garnered quite a bit more in terms stares, snickers, and comments, etc. (Hey. F#ck you. And send me a check, Vibram. I just found a new use for them...DANCE!)

And yet I was still scared to death to run in them. And then I felt stupid. So then I just did it. I incorporated an approach that I figured was safe (do a short treadmill workout, either doing hills on a low MPH or just flat out- 2 x's a week). The first day I ran in'em? I felt like a champ. No pain in my calves. (D-Gangs and Moda both said they were nigh on incapacited with lactic acid...but it was better than frassy knees and hips) And I didn't have a dreaded blister. Buh-wah-ha-haaa.

The second time I ran in them? F#ck me. Blisterville. Lactic Acid-ville. And then after the 3rd, 4th, 5th time? No worries. In fact, Moda commented that having had a few months in my minimalist shoes and then switching to Veebs probably saved me from the agony of da-feet. I'm proud to say that I accomplished my first actual outdoor run last week wearing them (versus only treadmill training). 5.75 miles. Non-stop. With some speedy downhills. And a good finishing time. (And the return of the big frassy blister. Whatever. I'll take it. It's just skin, right?)

So...for me personally? (And a few friends that have been trying them. And Free's. And Merrill's. And other forms of minimalist shoes?) Well I'm running stronger and smarter than I was a year ago. I'm not flat-out incapacitated immediately after, or even a day after my long runs and (so far) my races. Hills aren't as much of a problem. Distances either. And I'll knock on wood again...I haven't experienced a single frassy knee. (No clicking). Bad hip. (No burning or twitching) or that awful recurring lower back twinge that makes you want to do nothing more than lay down with a heating pad or Bio-Freeze and 800 mgs of ibuprofen. I guess cross/strength-training has helped a bit along with a more contientious approach to my running form. But I'll take smart running at this stage and age versus a good running time with $115 shoes and bad knee pain. Which I've done without.

Oh wait.

I did have one bad day of knee/back/hip pain. The day after I wore those stupid expensive inserts. Hm. Fancy that.

Movie Review: THOR

2011-05-09T06:12:00.000-07:00

Here's the long and short of it, since I'm guessing a majority of people (i.e. "Nerds") will have already read the metric s#it-ton of reviews that have been circulating. They've been drooling and bickering on various geek-interweb sites about "how great it will be"s or how "it's gonna suck hammer-balls".

So here it is: If you liked the first installment of "Spider-Man", "X-Men", and "Iron Man"? Then you'll definitely dig on "Thor". A lot.

Without geeking out too much on the Marvel character, or Norse pantheon: The God of Thunder pisses off his dad (Hannibal Lechter) and gets his boom-boom power and hammer taken away before being cast down to earth as a mortal as punishment. While he tries to learn humility, hijinks in Asgard ensue.

Is it good?
Yup. It moves well, the action is fun, you don't need to be balls deep into the comic book to enjoy it, and it was a lot funnier than I'd have given it credit for. (To be fair, "Thor" was never I title I dug. It was like the writers wanted a character that gave them an excuse to write pseudo-Shakespearian prose whenever he opened his mouth) The 3D was fun, the scenes in Asgard were pretty, and the action was exactly how you'd think it should be.

Will my significant other dig it?
Sure. Like I said, there's beef cake, ass-kicking female characters (Sif rules. And even Freya doesn't take shit from no Frost Giant) And as I said before, the pace should be good enough to not feel like torture. And it has a really good sense of humor.

How was the acting?
Really good, actually. Hemsworth has this way of walking when he's on earth that's not quite a swagger, but more of a posture of entitlement (if that makes sense). I liked that they made it out that he was crazy and how everyone looked at him like he was delusional versus dimissing him outright or just falling for his schtick. He also has some great humanizing moments that I didn't expect from a comic-book movie. Who knew?

Hiddleston (of course) deserves a lions share of credit for his performance as Loki. (My rules on comic book bad guys? They need to be unstoppable threats, bat-shit crazy, or sympathetically complex. When Loki exclaims that he loves his brother more than any of them? I believed it. And by the end? I wasn't sure at all.) The Warriors Three and Sif were well rendered individual characters (Although Volstagg kind of reminded me of Leonidas from "300")

And yeah. Stringer Bell plays Heimdall. And he's awesome.

I guess my biggest beef (if I can call it that) was the Academy Award Winning Swan as the love interest. I think it was the first time I actually felt like making this woman a beautiful astro-physicist cum helpless-damsel-in-distress grated on me. I wanted her to be a bit tougher. But...by way of correction I think that it's important to say that (if viewed this way) it made an interesting distinction between the "Gods" and the "Mortals". It kind of felt like she was phoning it in. Of course the same can be said about Hannibal Lechter, but whatever. They both know when they should collect a paycheck.

(ps- This is dumb, but there was a scene towards the end that focused on her face, reeeeeally tightly. And I swear she was wearing her fake lashes leftover from "Black Swan". Whatever. I noticed the lashes. Love me for noticing)

What sucked?
What everyone else said. In spite of not feeling like a long movie, there were a few clunky beats here and there. Some superfluous characters who probably could've stayed on the cutting room floor. And as much as I liked seeing (SPOILER) Hawkeye for his cameo, it did feel kind of forced in there at the last minute-(In spite of some funny dialogue.) I don't mind that they're trying to "create this world of the Avengers", just don't sacrifice the flow of the film you're making and leave the non-geeks scratching their heads and having to lean over to their dates and ask "who's that supposed to be?"

And I had a thumper of a headache afterward. 3D'll do that.

Become the Mighty Geek- What's the nerdy stuff?
I really, really am starting to like Agent Coulson showing up in these movies. And as much as I just frassed about forced continuity, throwaway lines like (referring to the first appearance of The Destroyer) "Is that one of Stark's?"/"I don't know. He never tells me anything" made me smile. The Thor battles are pretty damn epic, and everytime they throw down he doesn't disappoint. The cameo at the end is yet another set-up for another movie (natch) and the Stan Lee cameo was played for decent laughs. One of my favorite moments was during the epic final battle when Thor just "sets" his hammer on top of his enemy, showing the weight of the thing and how Thor really is the only one who can truly wield it.

(Oh, and the preview for "Captain America"? The one that's been on TV? In 3D? Looks reeeeeally pretty. It truly is a good time to be a Comic-Book Nerd)

4/5 This will be a good companion DVD on your shelf to add to the rest of your individual Avenger movies.

Restaurant Review- Sushi

2011-05-06T07:24:00.001-07:00

(Sigh) I feel like I'm doing this a disservice. I reviewed this place 3 or 4 years ago (or was it 4 or 5? I forget) and it was one of the 1st food reviews we wrote well before Moda began frassin for the CP. Sufficed to say, I'm going to continue to refer to this place "Japplebee's" in terms of it's cuisine, quality, and the type of crowd they're pandering to.

While we were out and about last night, Moda and I were in the midst of a severe sushi jones and since I'd passed this joint on the way to AL's birthday dinner earlier this week (And as it has recently opened in the 'hood) I thought that maybe it had came into it's own in spite of our initial experience being poor at their flagship restaurant in EP. (In case you forgot- Bad sushi, poor service, terrrrrible ambience)

We arrived well before the dinner hour, both very hungry, and both very willing to put our experiences behind us in order to expand our neighborhood options. The restaurant was quiet, tastefully decorated (with the exception of the weird Audrey Hepburn poster in the men's room. I didn't get it.) , and we were seated right away. We started off with: veggie gyoza, edamame (natch) and a small bottle of sake' to share.

The edamame was fine and brought out straightaway. The gyoza was...interesting. The dumplings were a shade of green and instead of the ground veggie/tofu innards I was expecting there were large tablets of edamame bean here and there. (A weird sensation on the palate, to be sure) Again, not great, but interestingly displayed.

As for the quality of the sushi? This is why people say they "hate" sushi. (Outside of the seaweed and raw fish, I guess) I won't even bother entertaining you with the kind of rolls we ordered. Simply put? They were warm. (Our same issue as the last time) And it wasn't even like they were "warm from sitting out or being heated" (I said at the very least with the temperature as it was I expected the fish to be manky or the rice to be firming) It was just...well room temperature sushi is kind of gross. And if that was their "thing" I don't think I'm alone in saying it's not how people are meant to enjoy sushi-room temperature and underwhelming. We ate it very fast.
Later we were given some complimentary fish eggs since they were originally to top our order but we were informed that they were still thawing out and needed a few minutes to prepare. (Note to self: You like the roe better than the whole slimy egg)

We were still hungry, but both quickly agreed that another roll wasn't what we desired. We shared some Udon noodles which were hot and filling but still- shy of out and out delicious. And the sake was pretty lame too. That, and when I said it panders? (The signage in front of the restaurant kept pimping the steaks, almost as if to say "Don't be afraid of the sushi! We have meat and potatoes too!") As for the quiet ambience, it was soon ruptured by the sound of a 3rd Date couple "Mr. Johnny Salami Loud-Talker", a pair of woman who I overheard loudly say they were only leaving a 10% tip, and finally...the random loud-ass gong followed by an obnoxious canned birthday party. (There was a hibachi birthday in the adjoining room. There's only so much cheering, clapping, robotic birthday songs, and clanking of knives one can take when they're trying to immerse themselves in a tranquil Japanese dinner)

We won't be going back again, as there are newer sushi options that have popped up in NE within the last few months that may beckon at a later date. All told, I feel like a douchey boyfriend for having "treated" my girl as a housewarming gift to a sushi dinner at a place that, after two at-bats, is just as disappointing the second time around.

I didn't think you'd catch that...

2011-05-03T12:25:00.001-07:00

So my friend Ry-Gonn and his wife were kind enough to offer a quick giglet/internal shoot pimping a product for some clients this last weekend. I had to get dressed up all lawyerly and hustle my buns to get off-book. (A prospect hindered sliiiiightly by the fact that there was a bit of legal and technical jargon in there, Annnd coupled with my inability to always stay on script. Thankfully, his wifey was okay with that so long as I followed the story)

Hanging out on our marks, we were going over our scripts in between takes and joking about how we should have planned our wardrobe choices better (both of us were in our professional black suits along with a matching shade of blue dress shirt. Whoops) when I noticed in the bright camera lights some shiny silver streaking through Ry's temples and along the side of his head. And of course I commented on it.

Now...We've known each other for about 11 years, and while gray hair is part and parcel to getting older I found that I wasn't as much of a sarcastic schmuck as I probably used to be, going so far as to saying that I even had silver and gray hairs here and there. (And I do. There you go. I'm old. Shup) He took a sec, squinting and examining my head before stating that he didn't notice a single one. (Not out of being polite- mind. I'm just a titch closer to blonde than I am a true brownie.) So I lean forward, squint MY eyes and quietly under my breath Isay: "That's because it's in my puuuuuubes". No sooner did I say that than the camera man bellows

"I heard that."

Right. Forgot about that little microphone wired up through my shirt and clipped to my lapel. Fortunately, the guy was laughing and had a sense of humor about it*. And this, friends, is what we do to make a commercial shoot go faster.

*Speaking of crew lacking a sense of humor...Back in 1994 or so, I did my first student "film" for my friend AL and his cousin Jay. To say the shooting was "loose" would be an understatement and insult to slacker 19 year "film students". It felt fancy since we had a crew of one and everything, and after a big scene where I had to walk across the shot bare-ass and the director yells "CUT!"- for some reason we started making doofy religious jokes that culminated in our wanting to have a big crucifix on the wall that I hang from and commit suicide. Z(Whatever. For some reason we all thought it was funny at the time.) Except our cameraman, who went from noisily moving his equipmentfor the next shot to dead freaking silence in a heartbeat. When we all turned and looked at him (I'm still kind of buck nekkid at this time) he's staring at us with this...really uncomfortable intensity. So the director says "What's up, dude...are you like...Christian or something?" To which he responds cooly "Yes. Yes I am." And proceeds to pack up the gear and leave. And we're standing around feeling a mix of shame and...well... no. That's not really true. I was the only one who really felt any embarrassment at the faux pas and my nudity. Jay was pissed off and just wanted to finish his stupid film.

So you know, there's an probably an old film student out there somewhere with some prime footage of 19-year old me in my all together. I'd rather not speculate on what he did with it. Let's just leave it at that.

That's something off the bullet list, I guess.

2011-05-02T06:36:00.000-07:00

This won't be contrary to my stance on not posting political jibba-jabba. It's pretty topical and has my gut in knots over the emotions/thoughts/perceptions of what has transpired since the news broke out late last night. In other words, it's kind of a big deal

I'm tired today. And I know that writing about my "feelings" is something that should probably be relegated to my gernal, or LJ...but I had a ton that I wanted to say about it. (I always do when monumental current world events happen. It's just there's always someone more eloquent who can post a quote, or a poem, or say what invariably gets stuck in my head. It's hard for me.)

I heard the news as I was getting ready for bed last night. My roommate stood outside my door and asked if I would mind turning on CNN to watch the White House response. I donned my robe, mobilized, found the channel (one hiccup of owning that big-ass tv? Finding the channel. I'm still learning that nightmare) And that's what we did. We sat in our jammies and would vascillate between the TV and a flurry of texts (him), or the TV and F'Book (me)...

I mean that's really kind of boring. Right? The biggest bookend story to the greatest planned attack on American soil. In our robes? No champagne. No "woohoo-ing". Nothing. In the last 10 years or so, you've all had that conversation at least a couple of times: "Where were YOU on 9/11?" Right? And people share with a somber respect for the even. And we remember. And it was...I'm sorry- it always will be a horrible event. An event that laid bare our feelings of safety, security, and comfort with this terrible tragedy that penetrated our shores. They made us bleed. And as a nation, we felt it. The anger, fear, insecurity, the pain and heartache. Nations came to our support. Even Quaddafi condemned the act.

And when we launched a war on "terror", we now had a face that was really the target. I knew about the blind cleric. The terror cells in the Middle East and Pakistan. I don't even think I'd have known who this guy was from Mary...but there was his face all over the news. And we were gonna git'em come hell or high water. And, I think collectively, as a nation, we were all fine with that.

So last night, why was I left feeling so...I guess "numb" is the best way to describe my feeling. Numb. Like a soldier after a pyrrhic victory?

I was going to start off today with one of those long-winded Mikey rants about the last 10-15 years in terms of how it culminated in the events of last night...about history and the despair that comes with repeating itself...blah blah blah. How it's so important to know how this affects us but also that if we don't take the measures to remember this as a country, that in the future this "victory" could be a shallow one. That the best we, as a nation, can now hope for is that those who suffered directly and the most can at least find a small amount of closure. And I'll probably touch on that. Sorry. I'm full to burst.

What really has my head spinning is the schizophrenic way that this historical recent world event played out...So let's look at the last 72 hours or so:

-Friday...Rich entitled young white kids having their wedding televised to the world
-Friday...Rich entitled atheletes and owners figuring out who a QB is going to be
-Friday...The final launch and postponement of the space shuttle Endeavour
-Sunday...The death of one of the most sought after evil leaders in the last 50 years.

This is big stuff that just happened. Over the weekend. (Not to mention on a personal note that I ran a race, rehearsed my show, shot a video for a court reporting firm. I digress.) It's just...can you take a second to see how the world and our news shifts gears so quickly and tangentially that it causes my head to hurt?

So I'm watching this last night, listening to the broadcasters kill time before the Prez comes out, seeing the images of the rally outside of the White House, and I started to harbor some pretty weird thoughts on the matter. These are first impression-y kind of things:

-Is this a true statement, Mr. Newscaster? I mean...It's been 10 years and he was nigh on impossible to find. IMpossible. So my first thoughts were: "Are you sure?" and "The public will want to see images or something. These days no one is happy unless they get a gruesome image" and "They sure as shit better be sure". My second thought? So who's gonna get the lottery winnings that was the price on his head? The guy that pulled the trigger? Will they even pay it out?

-The babies. Almost all of the faces they were showing outside of the White House- cheering, smiling, with their makeshift "victory" signs made out of pizza boxes with their clever slogans? They were so, so young. I mean, they had to be college kids. (NPR this a.m. reported that a majority of them were. Meaning they were all little, little kids when this first happened.) And this is what turned me into Grandpa Mikey- These kids are acting like it's a rally or sporting event. Fist pumping. Chest thumping. Cheering that someone is dead like they're in Munchkinland and a pair of stocking feet are rolling back under a Kansas Farmhouse. And...Look, I'm not sad that he's dead. Not one bit. But, for the life of me, I can't imagine cheering on a death. It feels so macabre.

To double back...you know the people who cheer during death penalty executions aren't typically the immediate families? (They just want closure and for the events to be put behind them.) The loud one's tend to be the protestors on both sides of the prison fence. The one side has signs for life and holds candles- the other chants for death and retribution. And here's where I started to feel extraordinarily sad: This war (wars? Engagements? I get confused), has never really seemed to have a definitive "end" in sight. (Mission accomplished indeed) Lookit all the "bad guys" we've arrested or executed or torutured over the last 10 years and tell me that it doesn't feel like just another bump in the road. Are the goals to end these wars wholly dependent on the death of one person because they were the figurehead to us?

It doesn't feel balanced. It doesn't feel like the senseless deaths caused by the tragedy, the countless deaths of the young men and women overseas fighting these wars have been justified by what has happened. Something felt bigger than this.

I also wasn't sure if I felt this was a victory or not because when it comes to terrorist "cells", they'll always have another bastard come by and pick up the mantle. My roommate called it a victory b/c it was the death of a terrorist figurehead. Well okay. But what if, within their infrastructure, while it sucks for them that their appointed leader is dead that the only thing they think of is that they need to scramble to appoint another CEO and keep right on trucking? And we're left waving or flags of victory for a perceived moral victory...While we're still fighting. We're still at war.

- 2 mixed things: I hate the news. Whenever you get a news story of this magnitude invariably it winds up being talking heads repeating sound bites and filling it full of wacky unproven improv until the story is confirmed. (When I first turned on my TV on 9/11 the reporters were saying that there was a possible death toll of 10,000 or greater. Seriously. I still have my little notebook where I tried dictating what I was hearing on the news verbatim until my wrist hurt.)

When 9/11 happened, movies like "Wag the Dog" and the idea of "spun" news stories was perceived as merely fodder for fiction. Terrorist actions...in 1993...1995...various embassy bombings throughout India et.al. Those incidents were reported at what (now) seems like a snails pace through our 2-3 news outlets. In our post-9/11 world we ended up with dozens of news sources with so many different ways of spinning the problems of the world at large- although they all agreed our newest bad guy. And it wound up being a guy, in a turban, with Dumbledore's beard.

We had our new enemy. WE had already forgotten how these were the same "bad guys" in 1990 and 1991. Think about it...after 1990 we lost the big boss baddies when we up and became buddies with Russia. But hot damn, oil and gas are too important and we needed someone to hate. So we got ourselves pissed at Saddam and Quaddafi. And the war was over in a week, with our SCUDs, night vision and all. And even though he became a pop culture doof- (Not one, but two appearances in Proft/Zucker movies) Saddam dropped off the map. We plain ignored him for 10 years. Even Quaddafi didn't seem like the vile overlord we had thought he was. And we ignored him too. Well they'll make for fetching targets again! If we can't find these cave dwelling terrorist then we'll fight people who have guns and WMDs! And lookit this! And we caught one of'em!. He done got found like a mole in the ground! He got hisself a trial and done executed. Hoo Rah for 'Merika! And lookie here at the last few months! Quaddafi is topical again! (I guess we can say the same about Trump, right?) And crazy! And we killed his kids! And we're gonna git'em!

But we got fuzzy face first. And finally. With thoughtful and planned intelligence gathering and a minimal/non-existent loss of life in civilians or our Armed Forces. The timeline, if it isn't a spin and I'm not being too cynical, was about 7-8 months from the initial reports on his location. In. Out. Found. And dead.

And again, all I could think of is that these aren't tunneling terrorist cave rats. These are guys that have someone with a shit ton of money putting up the dough to help keep them hidden. Which means, there's a nameless face out there who shares the "hate-on" America. And they're still writing checks. So you'll please forgive me if I'm still a little concerned. I'm not saying what happened isn't an amazing display of agencies working together for a swift and common goal- I just don't think this counts as our generations VE day.

Which brings us to F'Book and my second (and hopefully final) point- Before we had the capability to compartmentalize our feelings/religion/polictical stances in 140 character or less text bites? We had email/cellphones/telephones. (And mail. But even in 2001 physical letters were considered passe') With the magic of Facebook, I've been able to connect with old neighbors, teachers, high school- hell-elementary school mates. People who I might've seen once every few years at a reunion or something. Where you might get a phone number and promise to call but it falls through or you forget. So with the cliche' being "as you get older you become the people you lived with" (Meaning, your parents... to a certain degree) The friends you played "Army" with as kids and had sleepovers or went tee-peeing or whatever..? They have mortgages and babies and spouses and car payments and roofs that might need new shingles and credit card debt...And that's the famous commonality.

But what FB has got me frassy about (and a little sad) is that...well ...now I know more about these people than I might have if I didn't have a connection with them in the first place. And that isn't entirely a great thing, I fear. It's one thing to wear your faith and political beliefs on your sleeve. But leave it to an event like the death of the leader of that terrorist group to act as an impetus to show the worldthe often times difficult-to-understand "true colors" of these recent nostalgic connections. Some examples I saw on the recent feed:

-"Hope you're enjoying the 10th circle hell without your virgins!"
-"Good f#cking riddance!"
-"Let's make sure we give credit to the 'Real' president who helped capture and kill the scumbag- GW Bush. God Bless!" (Or the other "I didn't vote for him, but glad to know the current administration has done something positive!")

(Look. Just so you don't think I'm picking on these people you should know that I'm friends with artists/actors/performers. They're not off the hook, okay? Some of the jokes...are really, really bad.)

I mean...really? It's hard enough to filter or determine tone online. It's hard enough to disregard the political or sometimes manic religious bent of old acquaintinces if they don't align with your own. Keeping with the theme of full disclosure: I hang with liberal minded folk. I voted for Obama. I have hippie sympathies. However I also have conservative leanings. (Although I stopped feeling "Republican" after I realized that I didn't have to always follow the party of my parents and relatives and when I could start making intellligent and informed choices on my own. And private choices, too.)

I consider myself a proud-American. In spite of one of the most awful economic crises to affect our country- In spite of some of the most virulent and vitriolic forms of fighting within our elected government. In spite of decisions being made that are not just contrary and immoral...they're just plain dumb. (Really? Banning same sex marriage? What business is it of yours who does what behind closed doors. Banning spouses and partners who are lousy in the sack? Let's see what kind of hoopla THAT would stir up!) No, I choose to maintain a stance of optimism, faith, and humor. My patriotism, my dedication to my home country falls in the place of being a supporter of those who are our protectors- a few of whom are my friends. Of being respectful to others in their beliefs and opinions. To never fall into a trap of forgetfullness, or complancency. To believe in a changing and vibrant America.

I have never maintained the belief that peace is a possibility throughout the world. Even in times that I've personally considered peaceful domestically- well let's face it... there are still some unbelieavably rotten people in the world. People who fight. Who can't stand their station in life. So they use guns. They steal. They burn. They hurt. The world is too complex to assume that everyone can fall into a business model of peace/love/understanding. (in other words: 'MERIKA!)However if we remain at peace with our individual selves first. And spread it outward with how we treat each other. Our neighbors. Our loved ones. Our families. The one's that we may not understand but people who deserve our respect, regardless of their background.

In my house- We don't celebrate a death, even a symbolic one. We won't celebrate the death of an enemy. We can (and do) acknowledge their passing in the most respectful way possible- By remembering the actions and atrocities that brought them up to their falling. By remembering that there can and may still be those out their to follow their path. And to remember and give tribute to those who have been lost or suffered pain and loss through the actions and orders of that one person. And to accept that as a rule The only answer is humility, peace, and to ultimately choose life.

‎"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." Martin Luther King Jr. (Thanks, Moda. See? The smarter one's always find a better quote)

It's the day of the race, y'all...

2011-04-29T06:32:00.000-07:00

Pip Pip! Tomorrow marks the first race of the season (for moi)- The Get in Gear 10K!
This is very exciting stuff as it marks the anniversary of the 1st race Moda and I entered last year before getting crazy nutso about distance running!

I'm finding myself fraught with introspection and reflection as the day approaches- it's been this pervasive and wiggling feeling of pride that I've been pushing back since getting back outside and running on the earth. The idea of "How far we've come". You know? Check it out:

Last year we were able to remark on our personal progress from race to race, viewing PR's and how strong we felt at the end. And the first race was going to be the first organized outdoor "run" either of us had participated in. We were going to get a "number" for crying out loud. And a t-shirt. They would know how fast or slow we were going with their computer machines! Madness!

And it was pissing rain. Cold. Wet. Rain.

I remember all sorts of crazy details- Would I get stretched out enough beforehand? Were my laces tied well? Were they too tight? Is that an 8 year old kid with a race number? And the people...I mean, I like to get my "crowd" fix at the State Fair once a year, but there I was in the middle of the street elbow to elbow with all types of runners. Such a strange feeling of being out of my league mixed with "Michael? You're just running." And then the horn blasts, the numb and damp crowd starts ambling forward and the pace starts to piiiick up.

It felt like the run was going to take forever. The longest run we'd done up until that point was the 8-mile trail trot at Hyland. And we walked parts of it. 6 + miles, even when doing it during training, seemed prohibitive.

And then it was fine. Well, not "fine" fine. We finished at around 1:03, looking like drowned rats. I was winded and nearly puked at the end. We were getting our gear bags when the half-marathon finishers blew us away with their announced times. Heck, I even had my first bloody nipple sighting. (Gross) The funny thing, was after the run we were exHAUSTED. Legs were on fire. Sore. Aching. Walking back to the car seemed like a cruel joke. (We gave the stink eye to people who were still springy and running back to their cars)

A year later, I'm actually finding myself getting pumped for this thing. Moda, D-Gang, FeeJ and I have all been keeping ourselves apprised of our progress. We've put up our miles. We've ran with our barefoot toots. And it's like our jokey nickname of "Team Awesome" should be more like "Fuck yes, we are Team Awesome" . (Although, I'm jealous that they'll be able to retire to the Triple Rock for a celebratory beer while I sit in rehearsal...rank, and smelling like a donkey for two hours)

Check it out- I was on a run a few days ago and I had just read an article Moda sent me about the group of marathoners who did an experiment in race-hunting. (Running down a prong-horn antelope. Apparently one of the fastest land animals) This kind of thing sort of puts things in perspective for me for when I'm dreading going out for a run, or on the treadmill feeling like a hamster.

As corny as it sounds, when I need to "dig deep" I think about the big names in distance racing and how many miles they put on in just a week. Goucher, Dean-o, Hill, Jurek, Davila, Meb, Geb, Mutai? They log 100's of miles weekly for training. And me? I'm lucky to make 25 if I'm feeling good. So I figure if the icons of distance running, the one's who are (IMO) examples of superhuman endurance and always all-smiles when they cross the tape? I figure I can go the distance and not stop to walk along the way. That's the part of my gut I pull from. That's my little motivator. And I don't think I did that before. I like that I can ease into this one.

And when all else fails, I have a kick-ass running mix.

And a kick-ass team.

Making dinner with things I find in the kitchen...

2011-04-28T06:29:00.001-07:00

(Cooking blog. Fair warning.)

"Cooking with shit I happen to find in the kitchen".

Catchy, isn't it? I'm like a lot of folks who occasionally turn around in circles in my kitchen, open the fridge or the pantry numerous times with the hope that inspiration will hit me. Hit me in the FACE! What happens is I default to takeout, or Moda and I will toss recipes back and forth before hitting the grocery store to pick something up...and then buying an ingredient or three that I already had. (So there's doubles of things like coriander, mustard seed, vanilla extract etc.)

Moreover, I've "inherited" a bunch of food from my folks from back when they had themselves a Costco membership- Which means I have a lot (and I mean a lot) of canned and jarred stuff in the pantry and fruit cellar. And yet again, I wind up with doubles packages of everything when I don't bother checking what's in the larder before running to Cub for the "main" ingredients. So laying around I have cans coconut milk, chili beans, rice, and a disgusting amount of pasta.

That said, making pasta at my place becomes a struggle in creativity.Ievolved from making Ramen as a default dish to boiling water/using a whole box of rotini/dumping the jar of red sauce on top/eating it all. And within the last 7 or 8 years I've made valiant efforts in terms of edging away from a jar (and discovering the joys of jarred pesto)...which means I've been involved in some pretty atrocious experiments. (The genesis of this was when I was 16 and tried to cook for a date, boiling pre-cooked fettucine to death and pouring cold alfredo sauce on top. I did the same thing years later for yet another date who was a vegetarian and I made spaghetti with a melange of random vegetables. It was inedible. The trash can got sick.)

So clearly I'm not a fantastic cooking improviser. But I'm a helluva copy cat. And with that, I randomly present you with one of my favorite scenes in the movie "The Godfather"- Remember the one where Fat Clemenza shows Michael Coreleone how to make dinner for "A buncha guys?". He's making red sauce, right? (And film nuts, I know. Okay? I know how Coppola loves to incorporate food into his movies. Enough) So when we started gardening, I actually got the gumption to make my own red sauce at home with inspiration from that film by using the tomatoes and herbs from the garden and fully believing it'd turn out like shit. What I discovered? It was:

A) Fulfilling to make red sauce that you grew yourself
B) Easier than I thought
C) Tastier than Ragu
D) Not as messy as I thought. (I won't lie. I hate the mess. And making your own pasta can get messy as you'll see below)
E) Easy enough that even a flibbertigibbet clutz like me can do it.

So if you have a bunch of cans of tomatoes- diced/peeled whatever (Notice in the photo below that there are two different brands of tomato. See what I meant when I said I get doubles?) or when you're on a budget (read: "Po'") you can still play chef by making your own red sauce at home. (You can do it with fresh tomatoes, just make sure to de-seed them first before chopping them up)

I'll show you what I did and reference the food and utensils needed along the way:

What you'll need:

One 24 oz. can of diced tomatoes. (Or 2 small cans of peeled. Whatever)
One bunch of basil
2-3 cloves of garlic, coarsely chopped (The chopped and jarred kind? Fine. It'll just taste weird)
1 large onion or 2-3 small ones. (I had a bag from "Fare For All". I can frass about those guys later)
Handful of brown sugar
1/4 cup of olive oil
A whatever of ground pepper and sea salt. (To taste, I guess)
A splash of red wine (Optional, but whatever. Fat Clemenza recommended it)
I guess some spices from a generic spice rack or something. (To play with. I used some of the generic "Italian Seasoning" and "Oregano")

Tools- A large pan, sharp cooking knife, and a food processor. (Note: Everyone, and I mean EVERYone needs to invest in a good, sharp, cooking knife. Not just the bunch you get from Target. I mean invest, and keep the dumb thing sharp. Cutting crap should be as effortless as letting the blade fall across the veggie and you pull back your elbow to cut through. And the food processor? You don't need a $300 model, but for the times you'll probably break it out to make stuff? Not a bad investment. Otherwise, feel free to dirty up your margarita/daiquiri making blender.)

Prepare ingredients by opening the cans (If using fresh tomatoes, use 6 Roma tomatoes if that's your thing and cut into four piece then de-seed. Then chop them coarsely as well). Coarsely chop the onion and garlic. (See? "Coarse" in this case means "Not fancy and small". So it's easy. Get to da Choppah.) Heat the olive oil in the large pan over medium heat. Once it warms up a bit, put in the garlic and onion.

Babysit that pan until the onion gets a little clear (Don't burn the garlic) and sprinkle your herbs and brown sugar over the mess. Dump the cans of tomato in there with a splash of red wine. Lay the basil on top so it makes a for a good photo. Reduce the heat and let it simmer.

Once it starts bubbling a little, take it off the burner and shut off your stove. You'll need to be careful when transferring it to the food processor. (Clearly you can see that mine is a fancy wall-mounted model) So use a deep spoon and steady hands. On LOW, pulse the processor until the ingredients resemble the consistency of the shit you can find at the store in a jar.

Why low? Because as you can see from the photo above? You might wind up with more sauce than you (or your processor) can handle and it turns into a marinara sprinkler (tm). Put the superfluous sauce in tupperware.

Set yerself up for a fancy feast! Serve over pasta (I used farfalle) cooked to instruction. Serve w/fresh shaved parmesan or whatever comes in the green cardboard tube. Maybe with a side of garlic bread.

IMPORTANT TIP- Boil the water, cook for the allotted time, then shut off the stove and let it sit for another 3-5 minutes in the hot water. (Otherwise most boxed pasta winds up too al dente if you cook it exACTLY to the minute it says on the box.)

TIP 2- Feel free to "healthen" up the meal by substituting Barilla Protein Pasta or whole wheat noodles. Or, you know...just eat less.

Change is hard...and heavy (Pt. 3)

2011-04-26T06:34:00.000-07:00

(Full disclaimer: As always, consult a physician or personal trainer before beginning any exercise routine- new or old. Or you'll die. No, I'm kidding. I talk about lifting pretty heavy weights, and if you do end up going this route make sure you have a partner or spotter on hand- or work with a trainer to determine ahead of time what you can do safely on your own)

So after all that frass and rigmarole, what's next? Combining Vibram runs with my low-cushion shoes was helping my race-training and keeping my knee's and joints healthy and hale. (Knock on wood) I was still a little frassy that the change in drinking habits didn't have a more profound affect on my bod. (Was I expecting to go from puffy-pancake to svelte with just one change? Well, yes. Actually) Moda was complimentary in terms of noticing the differences, and promptly started her training for her first full marathon- an endeavor I support fully- but wasn't even sure if I was racing at all in 2011. I was still thinking about going topless. And then once again, I find the universe speaks to us in strange ways. This time a couple of things happened in rather rapid succession:

-The costume fitting. I found out that I wasn't going to be running around like Tarzan with a pompadour and they were leaning toward the more traditional "Elvis" jumpsuited look. Still, the fact that I split the seam on the costume wasn't very encouraging. (pictured, again- Willem Dafoe backstage theater pose in costume change #2)

-I got super. Duper. Sick. In fact, I don't think I've been that sick/voice lost/wiped out since 1996. (Oddly enough, another children's show.) I looked back on my mileage on Mapmyrun over the last year and I logged a paltry 15 miles for the whole month of February. My priorities, however, were just being able to make noise when I sang.

And the coup de grace: My ass got fired. Citing missed days and an inability to be kosher with an actor's lifestyle, I was released. Sooooo...that was stressful. And I was left wondering "What Next"? So while I was juggling finding a new job, re-evaluating my life/work future et.al. I decided to make good on an idea I'd bounced around in my head the last time I was shitcanned- I'd use this as an excuse to start up a fairly intensive fitness program that incorporated race-training along with a pretty high-level weight routine in the interest of seeing if that had results.

See, I've always lifted weights. I've always been a strong advocate for cross training with iron no matter what your fitness pursuit- be it karate, pilates, yoga, running- whatever. It's good mechanics, and the pundits aren't wrong- You develop and improve lean muscle tissue and you'll conversely improve your metabolism in addition to strengthening joints/flexibility. You wouldn't be muscle bound per se, but you're improving the machine with which you explore the aforementioned "preferred pursuits".

Except what that meant to me since joining my gym was "Do a couple of quick sets hitting the whole body just to keep some muscle memory". (In other words, it was a 15 minute hiccup until I got my miles in) So I started doing two things: I increased the number of sets/reps - and I went heavy.

What's important to know, is that if you want to reap any sort of benefit from any exercise it needs to be at least somewhat taxing. That's why even though I don't consider snow-shovelling "exercise" necessarily- it still gets you breathing heavy and sweating. If you politely go through the motions of a weight routine with no effort, you aren't reaping the benefits. Period. (This is why, since the dawn of pumping iron, they say that you should work with a weight that is about 60-70% of your "max"- or rather- think of it as those last 2-3 reps should be tough to bang out)

One of the guys that filmed "Pumping Iron" wrote a corresponding book about "Arnold" that had a great quote in it describing how a teardrop of sweat was a permanent fixture on the end of his nose during his workouts. So while (for my part) I wasn't squatting the equivalent of the QE2, I was sweating. Not as profusely as a run, but I was getting sticky. And little by little, week by week? I was increasing the weights and number of sets I did. I was being careful to make sure my form wasn't compromised, or that I was "cheating". I ended up adding open-squats to my routine. Which was a first, since I used to always figure that my legs were getting worked out enough on my runs and that I didn't have to do a leg workout as intensively. And guess what? It started to be a bigger benefit to my running than I thought.

And yeah...the rest of my body responded to the shock, too. (I'm convincing myself that one nice thing about getting older is also that I'm getting stronger as a result. Nice, huh?

So what's the bottom line? The point? I could end it here by saying that I was able to run nearly a half-marathon distance during a training run a few weeks back and while it was tough, I was still mobile and was able to "go the distance" without stopping. (Or be incapacitated the next day) Or that even while someone squeezing your bicep is the knee-jerk way of seeing how "muscular" you are, I'm actually digging the definition and "hardness" of my calves and quads. (Although, polite society may frown on someone squeezing your leg. Recently I just dropped trou in front of Moda to show her, but we have pretty weak boundries)

I guess my strongest point in all of this, is that while it's taken over 7 months to work on and discover these new changes- it is possible to do it with some effort. The drawback is "yes- I'm spending a lot of my limited free time in the gym lifting" but I hope that once race training tapers off it will balance out. That the stipulation people put on aging and our bodies can be subverted. And that you end up with friends and a growing mutual support group along the way.

In addition to the improved self-respect with a smidgen of being a little happier in your own skin to boot. I'll be frassin about training in the weeks to come.

(pictured: The author, Moda, and D-Gang. Running buddies on their first outdoor partnered training run of 2011. And the weather was awful)

Evolution means changes (pt 2)

2011-04-25T13:02:00.000-07:00

(pictured: Post-trail crawl after an incredibly hot/humid July in Afton, MN. Those sweat drippings are about 75 Proof)

What to do, what to do? I was stuck in a workout rut. When Moda 1st declared she was going to start race training and I valiantly joined her, it was for very selfish and narcissistic reasons. After all? You start putting on the miles and doubling the cardio, the body will have to follow suit! To hell with PR's! Bring on the six-pack!

Except, and this was apparent looking over pictures afterwards, the pounds weren't slipping off. I didn't resemble a Kenyan. Or steel spring. I still had that look of Vince Vaughn after a 3 day bender. Worse still, I was having the shittiest reflux you could imagine. Exacerbated by these super long runs. It didn't get any easier as we put on the mileage. On the contrary, getting out of bed was a pain in the ass. And legs. And arches of my feet.

And then...I lost my job. (A-gain) Or rather, I quit a lousy temp job for a new job and quit that one when the promise of a better one was around the corner...and then that fell through. Boom. So naturally I started freaking out a bit. There I was. No income. Zilch. And the only thing I could afford to do to keep my sanity was karate/run/work out/hang out with my mother. (Wait. Not that last part. Sorry mom) Moda was in full half-mar training with her new Nike Free's for the last run of the season so I made one impulse purchase in down grading from my old heavily arched Nike's to a pair of minimalist Nike Lunar Fly's. (More on that in another blog) In turn- My running grew a little easier. And come October, riiiiight before Moda's race I made another executive decision in the interest of shaking things up:

I quit drinkin'.

Now, before this winds up like an after-school special- All I did was re-evaluate my regime and make good on something I'd wanted to do for the last 7-8 years. Not being a young buck anymore, I couldn't pound the V and T's or Captain like I used to. I was getting tired of feeling like tired-ass on a Sunday after my Bloody Mary with breakfast. More over- and this will come as no surprise I'm sure- I wasn't the kind of drinker who stayed thin. I couldn't even claim to be cool or hip. And people tend to ntoice these things (The day after one particular party night, I visited mom who told me that my face- wait for it-looked bloated. Moda could smell me one morning during a Lake run...hell, even a co-worker or three could tell when I had been to a happy hour the night before. And those were the one's who were telling me, versus the people who probably kept mum)

Moreover, when you're unemployed there wasn't much else to do but stay home with a cocktail on house arrest and re-watch "Big Trouble in Little China". At noon. On a Wednesday. Through Tuesday. Hell, I ain't proud. That's just what it was. And here I wondered why my stomach was allllways frassy.

And that's when a couple of nice things happened. Not life changing or enlightening.

1) I became more productive. This has nothing to do with fitness or running, but I was less inclined to skip the gym if I wasn't feeling run-down or boozed up. I also finally made that previously mentioned Halloween Diorama I had been planning for years.
2) My running got better. Like, night and day better. Hills weren't as big of a deal and I wasn't getting sick or winded on longer runs.
3) I got a job. As a reward, I invested in a pair of Vibrams which I'll frass about some other time because they are the coolest f#cking training shoes. Period.
4) Oh. Right. I started losing weight.

Nothing drastic, mind you. 5-10 lbs. But I could button pants again. Jeans required a belt. The hanging chin tapered a bit and I got my jawline back. In the pictures that were getting taken, I didn't have to look at piggy little eyes. And the crazy thing of it, was that I was still frassin' about how I could make other changes physically. See, I was cast in my first musical in ages, and if it was like any other productions I saw there was a chance I'd be prancing around onstage wearing naught but a loincloth.

It was a little intimidating. So, more changes were needed.

Aging means evolution (pt 1)

2011-04-25T08:01:00.001-07:00

(pictured- Unflattery. Pre-5K in July 2010)
Did you know that there was a time when I was a helper to folks who needed to start a fitness routine or wanted to lose weight?

It's true! I, the royal Me, was a veritible fountain of information of all things fitness (I was like a personal trainer "lite"). And Goddamn right I was. I've been lifting weights and living a healthy lifestyle since I was 14. I'm well-read, trained, and have a experience/experimented often and well in those years. I never had a six-pack, or that crap. Just an enjoyment of working out and a healthy diet.

The unfortunate drawback of all that is a bit of a bout of dysmorphia. Lookit up). Your old pal Mikey has never really been what you call "comfortable in his own skin". I've never went nutso about it except when I was in Jr. High and living off of only instant breakfast in the a.m. and pizza rolls at night- It's just a fact. I've an Endo/Meso frame and it's not easy to keep my weight down. No biggie. (Did I mention I'm over 30? Whatever. The stipulation people put on our bodies when we get older is way off base, IMO)

So the big joke is the two best diets are break-ups and cancer. That's a fact. And I am a super-emo-mopey-ass when I'm dumped, and proceed to spend my days not eating and drinking the night away until I'm over it. This, my reader, is how it was for me around 5 years ago or so.

And I was thin.

Like, for the first time since high school. I actually felt like I was in good shape. Sure, I was what my friends called an "unhealthy weight" (or a refugee camp victim, as AL says) but I felt good in my skin, you know? Even when my diet/eating came back I was still doing all right. I gave blood and they complimented me on my resting heart rate. I felt good. And fit. And I thumbed my nose at an old co-worker who told me it's all down hill after you hit "30".

Let's fast forward to about a year or so after that: I got a physical. And I found out some alarming things. (Especially when they'd call and have me come back for "more tests")

-I weighed around 195 lbs. Even when I played football in High School I didn't weigh that much.
-I had high cholesterol. I actually found myself rationalizing my diet to the doctor to no avail. (I guess fat free cheese and soup wasn't cutting it)
-I had high blood pressure.
-I was at risk for diabetes...and cancer.
-I grew an abcess in a (ahem) very delicate area of my body.

That, friends, had me bummed out. To a huge degree. I joined the local gym with my girlfriend, thinking that maybe it's a result of not having access to a full weight room or the ability to do cardio. (I was still running. Just not...a lot.) And then, more crap happened. (1) My S.O. and I went on a cruise. And (2) I had to buy a boat load of new pants and shorts for the trip- In much larger sizes. I officially couldn't button my old jeans. Also? Comments started coming up about how I "looked like I'd put on weight". I started looking at pictures of myself and really, reeeeeally not liking what I saw. (I started looking like my dad and my grandpa Ken.)

I avoided/tried avoiding pictures unless my head was tilted a certain way. Like the below photo, I'd find clever ways to position myself to reduce the overall amount of body I was showing. I got rid of/donated my old clothes including the tight hipster t-shirts. Shirts went untucked. Pant tops were left unbuttoned. And even though we had joined the neighborhood gym? Nothing seemed to really be changing on me physically.

In spite of being told by my girl that I should just be happy in my own skin I still felt a little like Sisyphus. I was doing my part. I was lifting. I was jogging. I was eating soup. I still ate healthy (I thought.) I was enjoying food and even allowing myself dessert every so often. I stopped my offhand-comments about my "chubs" that used to annoy my girl when I said them. It felt like I had a healthy attitude, but my body wasn't responding any more.

Here we were. I was 34 going on 35...and I felt I must have been doing something very wrong fitness and health-wise. And I was getting more and more frustrated that I was going to have to come to terms with the fact that as much as I'd envisioned myself as being "fit" and "healthy", this was how I was going to look for the rest of my life and it was time to start getting comfortable with that. (Pictured: How I pose when I don't want unflattering body shots to go on Facebook and they do anyway)

Mikeflix Review- "Your Highness"

2011-04-25T06:38:00.000-07:00

Your Highness (Currently in theaters)

I just now realized the irony of having watched "The King's Speech" followed by "Your Highness" lives in the titles alone. While one is an Academy Award winning movie with stellar performances throughout, the other is just a nostalgia piece for stoners.

2 brothers (one brave, one stupid) go on a quest to defeat the wizard who has stolen the brave brother's betrothed. Hijinks and Hilarity (occasionally) ensue.

Again, if you grew up in the 80's during those formative years when fantasy films (Krull, Sword and the Sorceror, Conan the Destroyer et.al) were desperately trying to be taken seriously in a world that was still shaking from Star Wars and it's ilk- you'll probably garner some enjoyment out of this movie. The reliable Justin Theroux plays the evil wizard terrifically, James Franco still does well with comedy (His cheer of "F#CK YEAH" when he returns from his first quest was out of left field), and Natalie Portman doesn't take herself too seriously, even if she seems like she's slumming.

I'm just not a fan of McBride's schtick. It's like he knows he can play unlikable half-wits and chooses not to try and do something different. The one moment of earnestness that tries to get in the movie is actually touching, and the laughs- no matter how low-brow- are occasionally good ones. (The wizard/worm/molestor thing comes to mind. "Come, Come. Kisses!" Ish.) But when the movie grinds to a halt, it slams on the brakes.

At least it's short. If you want a nostalgia piece, re-watch "Wet Hot American Summer" (which turns 10 years old this year)to get your 80's camp movie fix. If you're hard to see this one with your frisbee-chucking chiba-monkey friends? Wait'll it's on Netflix. Better still, wait'll it's been out on DVD for a while so you don't pay for a new release.

1.5/4 Stars

All right, all right, all riiiight...

2011-04-22T08:12:00.000-07:00

So I "liked" Matthew McConnaughey on F'Book a few days ago. (I went on a strange celebrity "Liking" bender, okay? I ended up with Jeff Bridges and Patricia Clarkson as well, so I'm doing my due diligence in my weird celebrity stalking.) All right...Truth is, while trolling F'book I saw another buddy had "liked" the movie "Dazed and Confused" so that ended up leading me to the M'Hey's page.

And it was comedy.

I'm like a lot of people that laughs at his expense: The impersonation Matt Damon did. The Family Guy appearances. The pointless shirts-off movie moments . The gawdawful Rom Com's where every poster looks the exact same. (I mean seriously? You do a great movie like "A Time To Kill" and follow it up with 14 years of tripe? I mean, "Frailty" was a good "weird" and had Bill Paxton in it. But the rest? Crap.) The HIlarious mugshot after his arrest for getting stoned, playing the bongos, and resisting arrest: Butt Nekkid. (Okay that was kind of cool.)

I mean, the guy just strikes me as kind of the Johnny Salami type you'd see at the bar or gym who gives off sort of a too cool for school "predatory checking-out-every-chicks-ass-while-his-girlfriend-isn't-looking" vibe...(There has to be a way to truncate that.)

And then there's the dude I like. The guy who likes trail running. Wear's Nike Free's or Vibrams. Who does weight workouts with rocks and whatever shit he finds when he's out running. Does pull ups on trees. I mean, it's not like he's a role model but at least he isn't a train wreck or staging a career comeback after years of drug use and alcoholism. Whatever. I can identify, man.

And yet his FB page is filled with the kind of bon mots you can't make-up unless you're a writer on "The Family Guy". I mean- "Cookin' today with Guy Flieri. Should be fun and healthy. Just keep livin'..." is all fine and PR-tastic. But the other night I bugged the heck out of Moda right before we went to sleep with my own list of McConaughism's. (Why my brain starts racing right before we snooze is beyond me)

"Went running in Costa Rica. Used a boa constrictor as a jump rope. Just keep livin'"

"Snorkeled on the Great Barrier Reef. Caught a few rays afterward next to the carcass of the shark I killed with my bare hands. Made it into sushi, then did bicep curls with a Koala. Just keep livin'"

"Ate squirrel with my mother. Just another Thursday night with the fam, LOL. Just keep livin'!"

"Smoked a doob that I was told contained the ashes of Ghandi, but it tasted like a mixture of purple Koosh and the dude that played 'Uncle Jesse' on 'Dukes'. Bunk sale. Just keep livin!"

"Punched a dude in the mouth for calling my girlfriend my 'Wife'. I hate that. So I did some push-ups. Just keep livin'!"

"Found a great new organic chest-waxing kit. Has a great flexible brush so I can get at my back. Looks like I'll need to return those gravity boots! Ha ha. JKL!!!"

Go ahead. Be morbidly curious for a while. I'll wait. And I'm not lying.

Mikeflix Review- "The King's Speech"

2011-04-21T11:08:00.000-07:00

(Currently available on Netflix/Red Box.)

Right. Okay. Ha ha. This has already been in theatres and come/gone and the hoopla from last month during the Oscar's has died down. And this is going to be a simple review b/c, well...quite frankly...what everyone else said. My friend Adam said he went to see it when "Tron" was sold out, knowing nothing about it and walked out feeling like he found $1,000. I'm bummed that I couldn't get to see this one on the big screen, the last to show it being "The Heights" and it was the "edited" version. (Those who have seen it, know that cussing plays an important part in the narrative. I wasn't about to pay to go see the "Clean-flix" version, no sir.)

Anyway, this was the final flick on the Oscar's "Best Picture" list that we needed to view in order to say we saw them all. And why bother reviewing it at all?

This was an excellent movie. Compelling. Fraught with drama, hope, and some of the best writing/performances I'd seen all year. (How Geoffrey Rush managed that shitty "ninja" movie before this is a mystery.)

Rent this one immediately if you haven't seen it yet. 4 out of 4 Stars.

Well, it isn't July. You know?

2011-04-20T06:27:00.001-07:00

I woke up from a terrible dream:

I was working part-time at a Christmas tree lot. I was steaming, b/c people shopping for tree's over the holidays were proving to be high-end assholes. (Over dead coniferous foliage. Go figure) A group of people came over to buy a nice Douglas fir and they were particularly over-animated, which lead me to believe they were actors. When theater did come up, the amped their dramatics up to "11". It was obnoxious, they started singing showtunes from the musical they were all currently in together, laughed a little too loud for being out in public, paid for their tree, and they were nice/harmless enough I found myself wishing them a "Happy Holidays" in spite of myself.

Except they forgot their tree.

At the end of my shift, my boss made me track them down via their credit card receipt and a lenghty online search process- and finally found their phone number. I asked the guy if he minded coming back to get his tree and he told me to drive it out to him (an hour or two away) as it was my problem. I told him I wouldn't, and if he didn't get it we'd sell it to someone else. He grew belligerant, I told him it made no difference to me, he cussed at me, and finished by saying "Well whatever for YOU. YOU'RE not even DOING theater. YOU'RE just shilling TUH-REE'S!!!" I told him to go fuck his Sondheim-warbling ass and hung up.

And I woke up feeling very dejected. After all, Christmas was over 4 months ago.

And I could see out the window, that it was snowing. Accumulated snowfall.

And then it all made perfect sense. : (

Why does nobody like me?

2011-04-17T07:35:00.000-07:00

Here's a quandry. The other day, Moda and I were at the gym to put on some miles inside since it was b@llz cold out and we're creampuffs. We chatted with a buddy who mentioned that she was going to run her first half-mar in July which had us all goofily kerfluffling advice and good vibes. I invited her to join our outdoor group if she was interested once the weather got nicer and from that she mentioned that she actually really enjoys running on the treadmill versus outside. Baffling, right? That is, like, contrary to almost everyone I talk to who's a runner/jogger/racer. If we disregard the argument for a second that people who are looking to exercise say they "Hate Running" then we have the secondary argument for those fortunate enough to have gym memberships or at-home devices: "I hate running on the treadmill". You hear it all the time. And here's my dirty secret- I really, really don't mind running on the dreadmill. Swear. And while I won't go so far as to say I love it more than running outside- I will say that I don't mind it one bit in terms of fitness and training. And without boring you all with my history with the treadmill. (Jesus. It sounds boring just typing that sentence) I'll give you my top 4 reasons as to why, and hopefully by way of suggestion some of these might help you:

-Good form. For people who don't like running due to a preconceived injury or the impact feels stressful, most treadmills are designed with a bit of a cushion to reduce the stress of foot falls. If you're trying out running for the first time or doing it again, there are a ton of books regarding correct running form. (I know. One of the most intuitive things we can do and you need to learn correct form?) It's true. And if you spend every few minutes making sure you're landing shorter foot falls, mid-foot, with good leg and hip placement? The time goes by faster by keeping you more involved in your form.

-It keeps you honest. Unless you've invested in a Garmin or heartrate telemetry strap (or have some weird mutant ability to gauge your own speed/calories burned/mileage) you probably don't know how fast you're going. Enter the treadmill, providing you with all of that information right below your very nose.

-Change it up! Let's think about the issue that a lot of folks have with the dreadmill- Boredom. Whether you're working out for cardiovascular benefits, trying to burn chubs, or training for your first race- training on the treadmill can be a useful tool during the off-season or winter months when confined inside. And once again you have a way to stay invested in your run by doing speed work, tempo work, hill work. (Here's a list of the a few handy treadmill workouts. On a serious note? Doing hill workouts on the treadmill made me a better run and got me past my aversion to hills when I got back outside. Scout's honor.)

-You are right...in front...of a TV. I have no problem frassin' about my aversion to television shows. And in this day and age everyone is able to listen to podcasts, have their own play list, and the like. Me? I went waaaaay low-fi and picked up a battery operated AM/FM radio. Most gyms have at least a couple of TV's stationed in front of the dreadmills. If I'm catching an early workout, I can zone out to local news or "Good Morning, America". In the afternoon/evening? "Jeopardy". Sure they have ESPN on two of the five TV's at any given time and if you're trying to zone out to NBC on a Saturday morning the cartoons suck. Still, on my longer runs of 5 miles or more it's nice to have an hour long program to take my mind off what I'm doing and get caught up on current events.

By way of a post-script, you can always mix it up by doing the elliptical or stair master. The important thing is that to reap at least a cardio/fat burning benefit from your machine-oriented aerobic activity it should at least exceed 20 minutes.