Thursday, September 2, 2010

Curse of the tortilla chip!

It's our own fault.

The monster that is the tortilla chip, is of our own making.
For too many years, we've invited it into our homes for birthdays, holidays, get togethers or any sort of celebration. We did so, out of the goodness of our hearts. We wanted a fun party. We wanted people to not go hungry. To snack. To treat themselves in a fun and safe environment. Free from judgement. Free from worry. Free to have deep conversations, slightly louder than the music that so beautifully creates a joyous and playful atmosphere.

We were wrong.

My brother Bart and I were visiting our friend Doug on set the other day. It was late. And I was hungry. Too hungry, as it turns out. Crafty was meager, but it meant well. The guy in charge was doing his best. What he lacked in funding, he made up for in style. He had a few things. And one of those things, was chips and salsa. Ok, 2 things. Actually, it wasn't one giant chip, but lots of little chips. I'm still going to count it as one. Anyway, I started eating one and tried out the delicious Costco mango pineapple salsa. Maybe you've heard of it. Maybe even tried it. If you have, then perhaps you already have a story like this one. I hope not. But, wait, I don't want to get ahead of myself. Back to the story at hand. Anyway, it was an instant hit with my taste buds. I mean, they truly enjoyed it. So did the rest of my mouth. In fact, my whole body seemed to love the stuff. I was about to suggest that my stomach loved it as well, but I don't know. I mean, thats where it's all going. Maybe, in fact, my stomach is the only part that wasn't super stoked for it. Hmm. Perhaps my stomach is wise beyond it's years. Interesting. I'll need to thing about that some more. Anyway, I strted eating one chip after the next. That salsa was delicious. Then I started picking up speed and went for 2 at a time, you know, to get more salsa on there. I mean, that's what crafty is for right?! For the friends of people working! So there I was, shoveling chips into my mouth, trying to keep convection to a mimimun, as to allow more time for the chip eating, and right when I was distracted, by the fact that the salsa was running out, and this guy wasn't filling it up. I mean, he clearly saw that we were digging on his salsa, but I think he was ttying to be all stingy. So, while I was thus distracted, one of these "chips" goes down whole. I swalled that sucker down when it tried to lodge itself in my throat. No harm, no foul. Or so it would seem. A-hole chip.

I woke up the next day, with a bit of a sore throat. I couldn't believe my...ears..I guess.. upon imagining hearing my own thoughts about how I have ANOTHER sore throat. I had just barely gotten over an 8 day sore throat experience. That was brutal. And I have nothing in particular to blame for that one. Everthing is luck for that one. So, I thought I was about to suffer through another bout of sore throat, but hoping it was just a falre up. Then, the next day dropped, and I guess I started to scab up. I don't know if mouth/throat wounds scab or harden or whatever. Either way, it it like I had something lodged in my throat that I couldn't swallow, no matter how much or hard I swallowed. And I swallowed a LOT! It just got worse the next day. I spent all day spitting and trying to clear my throat, and counting down my attempts to swallow. I seriously had to count it out for myself. I felt like I was some kid in some coming of age kids story. Only, there was no girl that I was secretly in love with, and she never secretly kissed me because she could tell how cute I thought she was and she didn't feel sorry for me, or secretly have a crush on me but couldn't do anything about it because her boyfriend was the big jerk on the football team, or anything like that. There was a lot of stuff that was different about my experience. Actually, I guess it was nothing like a cute coming of age story. But, I AM m in my 30's, snd I'm definitely ready for my own coming of age story. How late do those things go anyway!?

So, finally my throat healed after about 5 days, and I didn't go mad, contrary to what I believed to surely be inevitable.

Anyway, chew. your chips. That's the lesson. Don't trust any chip to give you a pass on that. It's never going to be all "don't sweat it bro. I gotcha on this one..".

It ain't gonna happen.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Sundance and back again

Yeah.  Just got back from Sundance.  Actually, when I say Sundance, I mean The Sundance Film Festival, which takes place in Park City, Utah, and not in Sundance, Utah.  These poor suckers were walkilng up the street and asked me where they could find "the screening room", and I asked which one.. then they showed me their ticket, and then it was put upon ME to be the bearer of bad news:  It was 15 minutes before their film was to start, but they were 45 minutes away from the theatre.  So being familiar with the expression about messenger, I wasn't about to let them shoot me, so I launched into an attack on them:  How could you be so irresponsible?.......  What is wrong with you? ..... Are you all idiots? ..... Noone, not ONE of you could look into the information on the theatre?!....  Look how Ugly you are!....  Especially you!...... Do you call that a haircut?......I think that haircut actually makes your hair SMELL bad as well!...  That's nice of you to support retards, but why not let them just read to you or something.....Why are you hitting yourself?!.............I think it worked for the most part.  They didn't get mad at me.  Maybve I could have done without getting all personal. Especially towards the little 6 year old boy with the bad haircut...  but I mean come ON!.. You would understand if you saw that haircut!

Monday, January 18, 2010

Rainy Day

I love a good rainfall. We had one of those today in California. It was POURING down. We hardly ever get it like it was today. And of course, I was out trying to get something done for once, so I was too busy to really sit back and enjoy it. It seemed like it was pretty great too! One cop had parked his vehicle in front of a huge lake of water on the 101, blocking traffic, and I guess, keeping cars from going in and stalling out or something. All I know is that it looked awesome and it bottlenecked the flow of traffic. At the time, I was too frustrated to smell those roses, but looking back, I think the little boy in my was trying REAL hard to enjoy it, and look at it, and want to strap some boards together and float in it.

For some reason, whenever I see rain coagulate like that, it takes me back to when I was a young lad. I guess I was around 10 or so, but I remember when it rained hard, and maybe it was just this one time, but I remember coming home and seeing this gargantuan puddle in our yard, in front of our peach tree. At lest I thin it was a peach tree. Anyway, we (I don't remember who did it with me) set sail on this wooden crate. Wait. As I am thinking about it, I'm picturing our vessel in my head, and it doesn't really seem like it would stay afloat with us on it. Actually, it probably just sank down into the muddy water, but seeing as how it was only a rain puddle, it probably wasn't that deep... Wow. The things we have to do with our memory to distort it so that it makes sense to us.

What if it really did float us?! What if it defied logic, and because we, as children, didn't fully understand it, we weren't held accountable to the laws of science, but now, as an adult, I (we) have to look back and assemble the pieces together until they all make sense and are explained away. Well, I don' think I like that very much.

Oh, I guess I need more photos in my blog. So, here you go. This is my nephew Wyatt. He loves to wear my helmet, but it's really heavy and he can only wear it for so long. Also, he loves chips.


Watched the Golden Globes at my brother's house tonight. Robyn made pork roast but was planning on making pot roast. It was still really delicious. I forgave her though. I had my heart set on pot roast. I have to be honest. I figure, if I can't be honest here, where any stranger with some electricity and an internet connection can see and read anything that I type on this page, then where can I? It's a good practice too. The whole, be honest in a public place, I mean. I figure, some day, we will have to sit in front of a judge and he will look down at us and ask us if we want to cross examine the witness or something lawyerie/judgy like that and we'll just be like, I don't know what to ask him your 'honor", and then the judge will look down at us with that look, like "are you being sarcastic?" and we'll look back just kind of confused and play it off like we weren't trying to be, when sure we really were. I mean, come on. How are we supposed to cross examine an eye witness that saw the murder take place in broad daylight, and they were the one that just happen to be there with a video camera catching the whole thing on tape. And they're really a good person and you couldn't find any dirt on them to try to discredit them in court, and they just look like some angel, better than everybody else, when, even if they are, they shouldn't go around town bragging about it or showing it off with just the way they dress and behave themselves in public.... Wait. I think that was a question. Pretend I ended that sentence with a question mark. Yeah, I know I could just back space and delete all this crap, but then again, why would I do that when I was taught all growing up, that I need to show my work. So, you're seeing my work. In writing.

Saturday, January 16, 2010


I have to get my car. It's been sitting at the mechanic since yesterday. I wasn't going to take it in, because I thought that the problem might just be the thermostat. The guy from AAA was trying to tell me to just change it myself, and that it could be real simple. Then, he gets in the car to move it and says that it feels weird.... the same weird feeling you get when you blow a head gasket.. So, I take it in.

It was the thermostat.

Now, I don't know how easy it is to change the thermostat in a 2000 Volkswagen Jetta. And I guess that's what bothers me. If I knew that it was hard, then, I could feel much better about paying someone $150.00 with the tools and the know how. But, as it is, I don't know. I'm so close to the answer too! I could just, open another tab, click some letters on the old keyboard in the appropriate order to form the words that pertain to my certain situation and the internet does it's job. I don't know what that is actually. I have no idea what happens one I punch those letters in.

My educated guess is that there's a magic wizard sitting at a crystal ball, just peering into it. I guess he would have to be paid to be doing this. Also, he would need an internet connection to respond to everyone's inquiries, since we don't have a receiver crystal ball. But, then again, why don't we? That's what we need! We all need a receiver crystal ball. Each and every one of us. In fact, if President Obama can't provide every american with our own receiver crystal ball, then I guess the terrorists have won.

Come on man, there's still time.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Another draw

I try to write from my heart on this here blog. I try to keep it honest, and terse. Well, ok, maybe terse is the wrong word here. Why would I say that? I guess it's because I looked it up again just now to make certain it was the correct word for the moment, and, it very well may be... see?!. Honesty. Nothing wrong with a little honesty. I emphasize "little", because it leaves you room for more honesty, without demanding it. There's nothing worse than people who use "complete honesty" as an excuse to be mean. I'm trying to think of a good example... Here you go. "Oh wow! What is that shirt!? Uh, you couldn't find something that makes you look fatter? And what is that.... a design? Yeah, I don't think so. It looks like it was drawn by a psycho old man who was put in a mental institute because he likes to make hand puppets out of dead cats but then one night he decided to get really drunk and make something that he thought would look really pretty on a shirt, and he was just starting his rough draft, and he knocked over a candle and blew up his meth lab! ........ What? Don't look at me like that!? Yeah right, like you weren't thinking the same thing. Whatever, I was the only one who was honest enough to say it." Anyway, I don't care much for those people.

...I have got to stop writing these blogs so late.... OR.. make sure I ONLY do it at night..

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Board to death.

I think it's safe to say I'm terrible at Trivial Pursuit. But I would like to know for certain.

I randomly selected a card and I'm going to test myself. I'm officially inviting you along for the ride. Aaaaaaaaaand here we go:

1. What country is the Helvetian Republic? Hmmm.. Good question. But here's a better question: How did I grab such a sucky card right off the bat?! Is that a baseball term? I guess it is, and that it has something to do with where you end up, as a batter, once your ball comes to a stop.

Funny. There's a better question, and one that's more fun to ask people. "Where do you want to be when your ball comes to a stop?" Maybe that's not a good question, because people would just say "I'd like to be there right next to that ball if at all possible." Idiots. That's not the point of the question. You know what I mean? Of course you want to be there right next to the ball. Unless, of course, you don't like your ball and you were trying to lose it or just separate from it in the first place. If that's the case, then it was a good question, because it would reveal a lot about you, the person. Deep dark revelations. I mean, we're talking straight up Book of Revelations, type stuff.

So I guess it's more of a question to weed out the people with ball issues. Unless, you liked those people, then I guess it would be a question to weed out the regular, ball liking people. I think what we learned here is that that age old question really has no moral bias against either group of people. It is a just and fair question, and really, when you think about it, it's one not asked frequently enough.

So, that is my challenge to you. Get out there, and ask people about where they would like to be in 10, 20 or 50 years, in relation to their own ball.

You can't just glide through life.

Switzerland?!.. are you kidding me? No wonder I don't play this game.