Happy New Year, everyone. Let's hope it's a good one, without any tears.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Had a lot of amazing Christmas surprises yesterday and the day before. But possibly the most surprising of all was how much I enjoyed sitting down with my brothers and watching the Eagles crush the Cowboys. A Christmas miracle -- not just the victory itself, but that I was so into it.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Let’s start out with Nice. Here’s “There’s Something About ‘Merry,”’ a great article from Entertainment Weekly on the evolution of one of my favorite Christmas songs, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” I surprise myself by liking the 1957 Sinatra lyrics best, which I thought were the originals until I read this. What’s your favorite set?
And then, since you’ve been so nice, let’s get a little naughty. Here’s an episode of one of my favorite shows, Deadwood – with just the swearing. What’s your favorite swear word?
But remember… if your press play before Christmas, Santa will know you’ve been naughty. And then he’ll smother you in your sleep.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
In the train station parking lot this morning, I saw a bumper sticker that read, "Marine Aunt." Which is a nice show of support for the driver's nephew, and a reminder that those with immdiate family members aren't the only ones affected by this (or any) war.
But the sticker got me thinking -- something about it seemed a little odd, like there might have been a clever idea at the heart of it, and then it went through a variety of permutations for different situations. Giving it some thought, I concluded that it's probably a variation on another bumper sticker: "Army Aunt." Which is pretty funny, actually.
Monday, December 18, 2006
We've got a loofah (not a falafel) that hangs from an attached suction cup in our shower. Which is well enough, I guess. Except that sometimes the cup and the shower itself are too wet to hang it well, and it just slides down the wall. But what's worse is when the loofah just pops off the wall and lands on the shower floor. Because then I'm bent over, trying to pick up the loofah despite a suddenly very functional suction cup.
It's moments like these when I'm glad I'm not in prison.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
First up, a video of Styx's James Young singing Tom Lehrer's "A Christmas Carol." Kathy & I were at this performance at the Bottom Line in NYC -- it was part of Glen Burtnik's annual Xmas Xtravaganza.
Second, I thought I'd pass along the holday wishes from Chris' Invincible Super-Blog (one of the funniest comics blogs in the whole of the interweb) and Marvel's primary spokesman for holiday cheer: Luke Cage.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Jeri's written about this, but I just have to pass on her link to The Sneeze, where you can hear a version of "Oh Holy Night" that will forever change your standards of "so bad it's good." I heard it at work a couple days ago, and couldn't stop smiling. At home, playing it for Kathy, we were both doubled over in paroxysms of laughter. It starts out run of the mill bad, but then ups the ante... and then ups it again.
But "modernizing" the art in Archie Comics seems so wrong to me.
So very wrong.
Then again, it's their business, and these images might appeal to today's kids more than the old waffle-iron-headed Archie. They've gotta do what they think is right for the property. But man, seeing more realistic versions of the Riverdale gang gives me the screamin' heebie-jeebies in a way I can't quite explain.
Santa scared the shit outta me.
Despite the picture at right, I'm not talking about a bad Santa experience back when I was four or five. No, I'm talking about this morning.
Kathy & I were awakened by a banging on the door. (Yes, it was 11:00. Yes, we were asleep. No, we don't have kids. Why do you ask?) So, I threw on some PJs and went to answer it, when suddenly I heard the wailing of sirens. LOTS of sirens. We live a block away from a firehouse, but I don't think I've ever heard so many sirens. Someone's house was burning down. Was it ours? I didn't smell smoke, but my sniffer has never been a particularly reliable instrument. Maybe a neighbor's place. Maybe the knock was a signal for us to evacuate. Terrorist attack? Jesus, who knows?
I looked out the window and saw an ambulance, driving slowly. Weird enough, but it was followed by a fire truck. Why aren't they moving? They should be hauling ass! Then I heard something under the wail of the sirens, something out of place. "Winter Wonderland"?
And there was Santa, sitting with a couple of reindeer on a second fire truck. Happy to bring joy into people's lives.
Ho ho ho.
(The banging was a UPS delivery, by the way. Total coincidence.)
P.S. This is probably a good time to link once again to the Chicago Tribune's gallery of Kids Crying at Santa Claus.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
I'm pretty much through the big work whammy, and seem to have reached the other side of it relatively unscathed. I even got to leave a little bit before 7 tonight. All is well.
Now onto Christmas busyness...but I should have time to blog through that.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Friday, December 01, 2006
Longtime readers of this blog will recall that late last night, I nominated Reese Witherspoon for the part of a tough-talkin’ Texan, because she is, in fact, from the Lone Star State.
I was in error. I had confused Reese with Renee Zellweger, who is from Texas. Reese is, in fact, from Louisiana.
Which, after further consideration, is close enough to Texas for me. Go Reese! Down with Renee!
Time for a new post, I think.
I would have blogged about this earlier if I hadn't been both busy and miserable, or, as they say in contractionopolis, biserable. But better late than never, I always say. (They always say blaythenver.)
HBO is producing one of the funniest, foulest, most out-and-out, joyfully blasphemous comics every printed, Preacher. As a series. This is good news, brother, good news indeed.
See, Preacher is about a minister who thinks/realizes that God abandoned the world, and so he's gonna go hunt God down, because God's got a lot to answer for. He meets Tulip, his ex-girlfriend, on her way to kill someone, and along the way becomes pals with an Irish vampire named Cassidy. Hijinks ensue, and just when you think you've got the book pegged as a nonstop stream of obscenety and profanity...it rips your heart out. This is great stuff, and a movie wouldn't do it justice. But an HBO series... that's the brass ring, my friends.
So last night some buddies at work were talking about who should play the reverend Jesse Custer in this series. We talked a bit about his look, and frankly, I'm not even sure who we said looked a bit like him if he let his hair fluff out a bit. But I had a more pressing concern. Jesse is a Texan. He's Lone Star, through and through. It's important to get his accent right, and that Texas attitude has to be genuine.
So really, with that in mind, there's only one person who should play Jesse Custer:
C'mon, Reese! You're from Texas! And... and... you're from Texas! Throw your hat in the ring!
P.S. We also determined she should play Iron Fist.