I’m getting close to finishing my swim across the English Channel this summer. More importantly, I’m confused as to how I should refer to the swim. It’s not a literal swim across the Channel, but it’s also not figurative. I am literally swimming the 21 miles, just not actually in the Channel. Maybe a combination of literal & figurative? Liturative? Figeral? Regardless, you get the idea. I’m swimming a lot this summer. But maybe not enough. I’m still 5 miles away from France’s shores, and summer is quickly slipping away.
I am close enough to almost smell the French fries fying, see the French rolls rolling, and hear the French campagne corks popping. Just a couple weeks ago, I almost threw in the towel, although not lituratively or figerally. My pool succumbed to mustard algae again and turned this lovely color.
Today I’m off to a movie shoot for a paid speaking role in an independent film. It’s about time all my minutes of hard work pay off. More on the movie in another post. But I’ve somehow gone from a restaurant patron extra with my back to the camera who only pretends to speak to a speaking role with way more lines than I wanted or can remember.
As I practice my lines, I seem to only be able to remember dialogue from The Munsters old TV show and one other line. It’s from a Seinfeld episode when Kramer has a single line in a movie.
I just know I’m going to inadvertently say that line rather than what is in the script at some point today. And I have another funny joke to tell you, but … dammit … Line!
I felt terrible this morning. Our dog ran through some wilder parts of our property and came out covered in burrs (good name for an album). Not just on his body, but all around his eyes, mouth, and ears. Ouch. It looked so painful. I cleaned him up pretty well, but I took more than 100 burrs off him.
I could almost hear him thinking, “How could you let this happen to me?” I assured him I would clear out the burrs. He got nothing but sympathy from me … until he tried to eat the pile of burrs.
Recently, I told our pastor that she had restored my faith that Christianity can actually do good. She resigned. I don’t think the two events are related, but who knows?
I am so sick and tired of Republican Christian zealots who are trying to take over US government, local government, public schools, and just about everything else. Those Christian zombies want all of us to abdicate thought and blindly trust their twisted interpretation of God’s will so that everyone will sleepwalk their way through life.
I find that concept monstrous. Maybe not as monstrous as this though.
Rather than just throwing the whole bowl of conservative Christian spaghetti at the cultural wall in the US and seeing what sticks, I’d rather we focus more on Christian behavior to help our fellow men and women in need, regardless of their faith or lack thereof.
Monday mornings can be hard, especially if one is facing a work week ahead. I enjoyed golfing before work for two Mondays in a row. It got those weeks off to a fun start. Not so much this week. Bad weather scuttled any thought of golfing this past Monday. I have to say that I missed the feel of a club in my hands on Monday morning. But I can’t control the weather. I went to the store to find a club to help start every Monday in a fun way, regardless of weather. I think I found one. Take a look.
Filming finished last week on the set of 32 Degrees, the comedy short film that used me as an extra. I didn’t get much screen time the first day, so when I reported to the director for the second day of filming, I requested he highlight my best side. He agreed and promptly positioned me with my back to the camera. But, I did get to turn around to react appropriately when something happened in the film.
And I got to turn to the side (my one semi-good side!) to pretend to speak to someone else at the table who was off screen. We pretend-spoke about alien abductions in case you are interested.
Once the extras were done filming, we were dismissed way too early for me to stuff my pockets with snacks. I did snap this selfie for my memory scrapbook.
I’m scheduled today to attend a family gathering where a very conservative family member from out-of-town will also make an appearance. How conservative? He made it clear at a past family reunion that he believes Democrats are evil satanists while I was standing right there. I reminded him that our family are loyal Democrats. He gave a bit of a harumph and said something like, “Present company excluded.” I don’t think he was sincere. It reminded me of Rodney Dangerfield in Caddyshack when he was railing about a hat in the golf pro shop in front of Ted Knight who was wearing the exact hat.
So, I don’t want to be wearing anything that reminds him that I’m a baby-sacrificing, blood-drinking Democrat, or do I? Speaking of blood, it’s bloody hot today, so I’m wearing a light t-shirt. Do you think any of these may make a fashionably political statement?
We always tell our kids to make good choices. I may want to take my own advice as I dress myself.
I’m taking a real deep dive on this one. This song did chart on Billboard back in 1997 and was nominated for a Grammy in 1998, but I’ll bet you have never heard it. It got some radio airplay in Chicago and the Midwest along with some MTV and VH1 exposure, but was largely ignored.
You can also ignore it. If you do, you’ll be missing a tight, snappy, catchy pop tune that will threaten to take up residence in your head for days on end. I know it has squatted in mine after I rediscovered it, but then again, there’s lot of room in my big noggin for a song to rattle around.
Abra Moore was with Poi Dog Pondering when the band formed in Hawaii. After Poi moved to L.A. and then Austin, Texas, Moore went solo before the band moved to Chicago. I guess I should say “Abracadabra” as I make Abra Moore’s forgotten semi-hit “Four Leaf Clover” magically reappear.
After several attempts, I finally made it onto a movie set last night … and I didn’t sneak in. I was there to be filmed and likely turned into a matinee idol and overnight sensation. No, it isn’t a major motion picture. It’s a short comedy film that will undoubtedly net me an Academy Award nomination for Best Background Extra Who Can Barely Be Seen.
Upon arriving on time to the movie set in a Chicago restaurant, I sat for an hour. It turns out that there’s lots of sitting around on movie sets waiting for something, anything to happen. Fortunately, there were plenty of snacks for us extras to gorge on. Sure, we are unpaid extras, but do you have any idea how many bags of fruit snacks I can cram into my pants pockets?
The set looked something like this.
In fact, it looked exactly like that … except when there was a giant 8 foot tall polar bear in the shot. Then it looked more like this.
One week ago, I golfed for the first time in 23 years. I sometimes ask in posts on this blog if I’m a bad guy. I didn’t think I needed to ask if I’m a bad golfer. I was a bad golfer 23 years ago. Why would a 23 year abstinence change things? But I surprised myself that I hit more good shots (for me) than terrible shots. I was feeling pretty confident about my golf game. As I walked the fairway with another golfer from my foursome, I mentioned that I hadn’t golfed in 23 years and that he is welcome to deliver a punchline. I fully expected him to say, “I can tell.” Instead, he said, “In that case, you’re playing well after all these years.”
I wasn’t quite sure how to react. Maybe I am a good golfer. A few days later, I received an invitation to today’s golf date. I mentioned how surprised I was to get another invitation despite my atrocious golf game. Rather than another compliment, I heard, “It’s not about the golf.”
So, I am a bad golfer after all. But I’m also okay with that. It truly isn’t all about the golf.
I like to try and help out around the house when I can. If I see the remnants of a bowl of soup on the kitchen table, I’ll grab the spoon and rinse it off. If I see a pen sticking out from under the desk that it’s fallen from, I’ll kick it all the way under. If I see that the garbage can is full, I’ll let my wife know. I’m that type of guy.
My wife is fostering 5 kittens that are not yet litter-trained, so it’s been a challenge keeping up with all the smelly laundry. Consequently, when I saw a stinky laundry basket on the floor …
Well, how was I supposed to know that this load was hand wash only and air dry?
Am I a bad guy?
Editor’s Note: No kittens were harmed in the making of this blog post.
My 14 year old daughter and I took another road trip before she has to head back to school. The place we are staying offers a lot of amenities. I was intrigued when I saw this sign.
I was confused when I saw the movie scheduled for tonight is Avatar. What does that movie have to do with laundry? I was expecting maybe a movie about money laundering (Trump bio pic?) or perhaps even Car Wash.
I understand that the logical choice is this movie.
If I flounder now, it’s on France’s shoulders to come rescue me. Who knows what my French rescuers may throw to me as floatation devices in case I am in distress? Maybe empty champagne bottles and merveilleux fromage français (or wonderful French cheese for our English-speaking readers). The French have so much cheese that they use for so many things that I just assume that they also use it for water rescues. But will it float? Fortunately, we have an expert on the buoyancy of cheese (good name for an album) standing by who can answer that question.
It was probably easy for readers to shout “Yes!” the last time I asked the question “Am I a bad guy?” I get it. I wanted my wife to not take in 3 week old homeless kittens found abandoned in a cardboard box in a parking lot so that I wouldn’t have to wipe down the shower after taking one. And the gif I used for the post was disturbing at best.
Well, just to put your minds at ease, here’s a quick video taken in my living room.
Cute, huh? And just the perfect size and weight for one of my favorite hobbies.
I had strategically snuck in to take a shower before my wife did today. Why was it strategic? Because if I shower first, immediately before my wife, then I don’t have to squeegee down the shower walls and door. That could give me 1 or 2 minutes extra time during the day to waste.
My wife was waiting for a call back from the local animal shelter. She mentioned something about kittens needing a foster home as I headed toward the shower. When I got out of the shower without wiping down the walls or door, my wife told me that she was headed to the animal shelter to pick-up 5 kittens to foster for a week or two. No, she would not be taking a shower. I looked back at the shower where water slowly dripped down the walls and glass door. As I reentered the shower and grabbed the squeegee (not a euphemism), I wanted to tell my wife that I was allergic to homeless kittens (good name for a band) and that she should cancel with the animal shelter. Am I a bad guy?