Happy Holidays

Sure, it's been about three months since I posted, but that doesn't mean that I've been sitting around doing nothing. In fact, I've been doing so much that I haven't really had time to post here. But that changes today! ...well, I guess that was obvious...

I want to talk about Christmas. Not the holiday itself, but the joyous act of gift giving. To the point where I have decided that I want to post...

The Top Gifts I Am NOT Giving This Year!

Gift That Inspired This List

That would be the Zen Moving Dolphin. I saw this wonder at Macy's earlier today, and it took my breath away. Not in a good way, either. This magical monument consists of several pieces of plastic, carefully molded to look like a dolphin when put together--think of a dolphin that has been cut into layers and then reassembled. The beautiful part of this sculpture is that the pieces undulate up and down to mimic the motion of a dolphin swimming. And you can have it for only $80.00. Wow. Who DOESN'T want that under their tree?...

Gift That I Wanted To Get My WIfe That Would Have Pissed Off PETA

Belk's at Town Center has a fur department. They have an absolutely gorgeous shaved mink coat that would have looked spectacular on Allyson. Alas, though, I didn't have the $3000.00 it would have taken to bring the thing home. Here's hoping for that Christmas Lottery miracle!

Gift That I Would Love To Get Everyone Who Wears Glasses

I have laser eyes now. About two months back I went and had my eyes sliced open and then zapped with a machine that made it so I no longer have to wear glasses. It's an amazing thing. It is wonderful to be able to see things with my own eyes, instead of having to rely on a piece of plastic to see...well, anything. I was pretty much legally blind before hand, and now I have 20/15 vision. Technology is a miracle. It's also expensive as hell, so, again, I can't afford it. But I recommend it to anyone that might be thinking about it. (I saw Dr. K at Piedmont Better Vision. They have financing.)

Gift That Everyone Asks About But I Couldn't Find

Peace on Earth. I looked everywhere, honest. Nobody has it in stock. Go figure.

Gift That Nobody Should Ever Have, Ever. I Mean It.

A cystourethroscopy. You don't want it, honest. I had one last week. It's no fun. I won't go into details, but suffice it to say that when they say "your clinching, can you relax?", it's something easier to ask than do. Oh, and I'm fine. The results were great and I'm okay.

Gift That I Want To Give My Team

Anything at this point would be an improvement. The Atlanta Falcons have had the single worst twelve month span of any professional football team in history. Everything that could have turned against them, has, and it looks like a long road to recovery. Unfortunately there isn't much that I can give them except support, which I will do every week. So, I guess I am giving them something, after all...

So, for today, that is my list. If I think of other things to add to it, I will. But I do want to give one thing to everyone taking the time to read this, especially after me not posting for about three months:

Merry Christmas!

A Matter of Timing

Avengers Classic #4 shipped recently, and it gave me a chance to re-read the issue of The Avengers that brought Captain America back to comics. It had been a while since I had read it, but I have always enjoyed the issue.

Reading it, I was reminded of a couple of things. First, I really like Captain America. And two, what the hell is taking them so long to bring him back or do something about his death? In Avengers #4, the matter of Cap being found by the Sub-Mariner, thrown into the ocean, being found by the Avengers, having them recognize him, revive him, his short battle with them, and then his remembering who he is and what happened to put him in the frigid situation they found him is a dynamic and exciting tale.

Oh, and it takes all of eight-pages.

Yeah, all of eight pages. It would take most writers eight or so issues to tell that story, and honestly, it wouldn't be any better. In fact, I would wager that they would try to make it so "realistic" that it wouldn't be very good at all. I think that one of the biggest problems facing comics today is the idea that they need to be more realistic. That's just not true.

In fact, most of these books that are trying to be "real" are so far gone that they are not even vaguely close to real. They make a mockery of what storytelling is supposed to be, probably due to the fact that most of the people that are writing comics, I would be willing to bet, have never studied story structure or the concept of storytelling. It isn't just a matter of putting together a series of dramatic, shocking events that ultimately are meaningless--the worst of which being the totally unnecessary trend for writers to think that killing a character is the same as adding drama.

So to any writers and would-be writers--and yes, I'm speaking to you Ed Brubaker, Brian Bendis, and many, many others--pick up Classic Avengers #4 and read it. I have trouble believing that many of the people who are currently at the helm of some of the most beloved characters in comics have read all of the early stories. Now I could be completely wrong about that, but that would be even worse to be honest.

...And Knowing Is Half The Battle.

Here we see Wolvering letting us know exactly his goal and its location. Good to know. Good to know.

NFL Day One

Well, the first day of the full-time NFL season is over, and I have already learned one important thing: I have no idea who the heck Heineken is marketing their new product towards.

Have you seen their very odd new ad campaign? The one for the mini-keg of sorts, with the ad featuring what I am guessing is an attractive woman who is made up to appear somewhat android-ish and then she opens up her main body cavity to present a tiny keg of Heineken. She moves with an odd stilted behavior (intentionally), and eventually ends the ad by bringing out two identical androids, thus having three of them standing there posing with beer.

Okay. Why?

Is this supposed to make me want beer? Is this supposed to make me think that Heineken is an advanced brewing company that utelizes only the most amazing of robotic technologies? Are they trying to show us that with the worst lighting and makeup on record they can make an attractive woman look bad on screen?

Well, they succeeded with the last one. I guess that they did accomplish the goal of getting me to know that Heineken has produced some sort of new keg device, but even if I drank beer (which I don't) I wouldn't be interested. And my friends who watched the commercial who DO drink beer were turned off by the ad. The images do anything but sell the product.

Which always makes me wonder how this pitch went. I see two guys with used car salesman smiles looking at a table full of suits and saying, "Okay, this is our best idea. You know how this is a revolutionary, advanced concept? Well, what sells that better than a scary-pale woman with ugly hair dancing poorly? Eh? Eh?" Of course, since the ad was run about...oh, I don't know...a BILLION times today, the suits sat there mouth agape screaming "BRILLIANT!!" It's sad really.

Oh, and my team, The Falcons, lost. Not shocking, but still disappointing. Still, it was week one, and it's too early in the regime of Bobby Petrino and the team to judge them. Especially with all of the off-field incidents of this year.

And at least they aren't scary androids. Wait...maybe that would help them out... Someone in Flowery Branch call Heineken now!!

BGC

Until a few days ago I had no idea that the letters BGC stood for anything particular in the medical community. You don’t hear them bantered about in everday discussion, and you never see a medical commercial on television with women walking around in flowing robes while dancing porpoises sing songs about BGC (then again, those ads for different medications never really seem to be about anything…). But that all changed two weeks ago when diabetes entered my life.

Oh, not me. I’m fine, thanks. My cat, Cecil, though…not so much. He’s diabetic.

I didn’t even know that cats could be diabetic. Again, no commercials or anything. But now I know that they are, and now I know that diabetes is a serious and confusing illness for felines.

Let’s go back a little bit.

A couple of weeks ago I took Cecil, a long-haired gray kitty, to the vet because he had been losing weight and was ravenously hungry all the time. I thought that he might have a stomach issue, or maybe even a problem with his thyroid, both of which I’ve had recent experience with thanks to another cat in the house. So, the vet ran the bloodwork and the results came back as diabetic.

This surprised the vet, as she said that he didn’t show any of the normal problems that led to diabetes in cats, namely being overweight and eating a dry-food diet. Cecil has always been reasonably trim and prefers to eat wet (also known as canned) food. Which is why they ran the test twice, and it came back with the same results both times.

So, I have a diabetic cat. “What’s next?” I asked the vet. Well, the answer was exactly what you would expect: he has to be given insulin injections. But there’s more…

It seems that cats don’t like to be diabetic. And, as cats are as independent as any animal in nature, they also hate to follow rules. So, the rules of diabetes are things that don’t sit well with cats, to the point where they will sometimes just spontaneously stop being diabetic. That’s right: they can cure themselves of diabetes.

I’m not done with Cecil, though. After his diagnosis, we had to take him in for his first blood glucose curve to determine what kind, what amounts, and what frequency he would get insulin. So far, so good.

It didn’t go well. Cecil’s body didn’t seem to like insulin. And he reacted poorly. His blood sugar went way out of whack and we had to take him to the Cobb Emergency Clinic, where he sat for almost five full days, the first four of which were on an insulin drip to get his blood under control. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the reason he had to go was due to the fact that he developed ketoacedosis, a malady that causes the body to start consuming muscle mass for sustenance. In other words, his body was eating itself to stay alive.

(I want to take a moment here to send out a huge thanks to both Bell’s Ferry Animal Hospital and the Cobb County Emergency Veterinary Clinic. Bell’s Ferry, and specifically Dr.’s Webb and Temple, took care of Cecil with amazing care to the point where they recognized that he needed care beyond what they could provide there, putting the welfare of the animal first; a wonderful thing to see. And then at the Cobb County Clinic, Cecil was given amazing care to the point that they encouraged us to come in to visit with him every day and to call at any time just to check on him. He looked a little like a science experiment with the tubes that were running in and out of him for a couple of days, but they let us back into the intensive care area where he was, and we sat outside his cage while they dealt with other sick animals. And what’s more, during that entire time, the folks at this very high-pressure Vet office kept a good attitude and a smile on their faces. Both facilities deserve all the praise they can be given.)

Once they got the ketone levels under control, and then got his blood sugar to respond properly to the insulin, they released him to come home. He looked horrible. He had lost so much weight and muscle mass that he literally looked like a cat skeleton with a furry skin pulled tight over it. He had no energy and could barely open his eyes.

I was concerned, to say the least.

But he has spirit, I think. He likes to be home, and he is eating like a champ again, and has put some of his weight back on. Last night he even jumped up and caught a moth that had flown into the room. It was a beautiful thing to see.

So, every day Cecil gets an insulin shot at 8:00 in the morning and 8:00 in the evening. It puts a bit of a strain on what she and I are able to do, seeing as how we have to be awake and at home at both of those times every day, but y’know what? We don’t mind. He’s worth it.

What does the future hold? Who knows. I expect Cecil to throw us a few more curves, but that's what we are expecting, and cats hate that, so it might be smooth sailing. Like I said: who knows? I do know that he will be back at Bell's Ferry next week for another Blood Glucose Curve to see how his body is taking to the insulin. Just looking at him, I know that it is better than the first time they checked.

And that whole BGC thing? It stands for Blood Glucose Concentration. It’s what the docs use to tell how out of whack is his blood sugar. The more you know…

The Saavy Shopper

I have been going about things all wrong.

Normally, I am the type of person who will research what they want to purchase, search around for the best price or deal on the decided product, and then make my purchase. And normally, I do these things either through the magic of the internet or at a store that specializes in such product. But why? Why am I going to all that trouble, when clearly there is a superior method.

I should just buy what they advertise on streetcorners.

That's right! The time-honored practice of advertising goods and services at a bust intersection is clearly what I should use to make my buying decisions! After all, for as long as I can remember in my forty-plus years I've been seeing things advertised by the marketing geniuses that have gone to all the trouble to put a sign in the dirt. Sometimes, they don't even put them in the dirt, but hire professionals to stand at the corner with a sign looking dapper and professional in order to inspire us to come into their place of business to spend copious amounts of money.

Oh, and it isn't just retail products that you can buy. Oh no!

You can get daycare service for your children, thus insuring nothing but the finest of upbringing for the fruit of your loins (not to be confused with the Fruit of the Looms, which would be at one of the other places advertised).

You can get healthcare services and advise. Worried about your health? So are the countless number of caring individuals that have gone to great lengths to get you to call their clearly posted phone number.

And housing? Well, what type of housing ISN'T advertised by the side of the road? And I'm not talking directions to a subdivision, either. I'm talking full-on home loans and direct offers to purchase homes for your ease of mind.

Not sure what you want to buy? Not a problem! Sometimes the people who put out these signs aren't clear on what they want to sell! Just look for a vague name and/or title with a phone number attached to it, and you will get that surprise shopping experience that you've been dreaming about.

In fact, I don't even know why I'm bothering to write this. If I want to get something out there that people will really notice, I need to break out my cardboard and markers--or if I'm feeling really daring, go to my local Kinko's to get something professionally created--and let the world know.

Viva Le Advertising Revolution!!

On Birds and Dogs

Let’s get this stated up front: I am an Atlanta Falcons fan. Have been for years. Years that pre-date the turn of the century.

Another thing up front: I like dogs. They are cute and fun to play with, and can be great companions.

Right now, as an Atlanta Falcons fan, I am very, very concerned. And yes, it all stems from Michael Vick.

Again, let’s get this out front: what Mike Vick is accused of doing is deplorable. It is inhumane and unfathomable by myself. And, as a Falcon’s fan, I am going to be very upset if he misses any games (as I am guessing that he will—if not all of them). And while I have enjoyed watching him on the field, and have always felt that when he was out there the Falcons had a better chance of winning, I am not a Mike Vick fan. I am an Atlanta Falcons fan. I will cheer for the team no matter who is playing quarterback.

Now, with all that said, the idiotic actions that occurred in Virginia that have led to an indictment against Michael Vick may be the worst thing that has happened to a professional sports franchise in my lifetime.

Let me explain.

It is a long-standing, non-written statement in Hollywood that you can kill as many people as you want in a movie, but you should never, ever kill a dog on screen. It turns the crowd against the film in a heartbeat.

That is because, as a species, we can forgive someone for killing, maiming, or otherwise harming an adult human. But killing a dog? That’s wrong. That’s unforgivable. That is the type of thing that creates animosity on an amazing level.

With that in mind, the accusations against Mike Vick not only reflect on him as a person, but ultimately on the Atlanta Falcons as an organization. Why? Because PETA can’t picket Mike Vick’s house and get the attention that they will if they picket the Georgia Dome. Because, whether or not Mike Vick is actually with the team this year, fans in other cities won’t get a chance to target Vick by holding up signs that condemn the team without the Falcons being there. The Falcons and their organization will be the target of reprisal for this indictment.

Now, let’s say that somehow Mike Vick gets acquitted. He is found not-guilty by a jury of his peers. What then?

Not much different from what will happen than if he is found guilty, in regards to the Falcons as a team. The team will pay the price either way—though it would be, undoubtedly, a more severe response if he is found guilty. But if he is found innocent, and he is on the field, there are going to be those that feel they got the verdict wrong. That he is guilty, and they will make their piece known. They will picket the games, they will raise their signs, and…well, who knows how bad they might get?

So, maybe the Falcons need to let Mike Vick go now?

It’s not that simple. Aside from the financial hit the team would take due to the way that the NFL structures payroll and cap limitations, until he is picked up by another team (an unlikely scenario at this time) he will still be associated with the Falcons. And every single game, whether at home or on the road, will carry the shadow of dog fighting over it. Every game will have the picketers, the signs, and the cat calls towards the team with or without Mike there. Whether he is on the team or not.

Simply put, there is no good that can come of this. This is a shadow that will haunt the team for years, and will cause more problems than anything else that has ever happened to the team.

And that is simply due to the fact that humans have a place for dogs that does, in fact, sit above the life of a human. There have been plenty of incidents against humans that have plagued NFL players, and they have all been forgiven. But none of them has ever had anything against a dog—at least not on this scale—until now.

Whether he is innocent or guilty, the actions or lack thereof by Michael Vick have cast a bleak shadow over the Atlanta Falcons for the foreseeable future.

And speaking as a person who once stood up and cheered when he made some of the amazing plays that only an athlete of his caliber could, I am sad today. I am sad that, due to the stupid actions of one person, my team is suffering from something that they don’t deserve.

My team, the Atlanta Falcons, have a black eye. And they didn’t even throw a punch.

I'm A Simpson, Too...

Yeah, I've succumbed to peer pressure. I've been Simpsonized...

In Praise of Bad

I have a bad habit. Or rather, I have a habit of bad. Namely, I have a bad habit of watching bad movies. And let's make no mistake, I KNOW that some of the movies that I watch are bad. Very, very bad.

But there is something about those gawd-awful films that brings me back again and again. I take great delight in watching wretched acting and directing combine with a bad idea to become something special. It even predates my love of Mystery Science Theatre 3000 (one of the greatest television series in history, if you ask me), as I would drag my friends to the theatre to watch horrible films.

Now that isn't to say that I ONLY like bad films. Not even close. I love a well made, well acted, skillfully written film. I have an extensive DVD collection, and--with the exception of probably the Godzilla collection--they are all quality films in my mind.

So, if I'm not watching them on DVD where do I get the bad films that I enjoy? Why, from the Sci-Fi Channel, of course! Every Saturday night the Sci-Fi channel airs a new masterpiece of drek that keeps me entertained in it's amazing badness. Well, most of the time. Sometimes they air quality movies, and then sometimes...well, sometimes there are moments like the one I have to talk about.

A couple of weeks ago the Sci-Fi Channel debuted a film that they called Stan Lee's Harpies. Um...oh my gawd. I couldn't finish it. It was too bad. It was so bad that I didn't know what to mock. I didn't know where to laugh and where to just sit slack-jawed in shock. It was a movie so bad that it made the bad movies they show seem...good. The acting was deplorable. The directing was amaturish, at best. But it was really the writing that took this film to new lowes. The writing...no, wait, I have respect for writers; the word-assembler that constructed this "story" did an exceptional job of taking every hack premise and phrase and bringing them to a new low.

I really don't have a joke to make about it. Honestly, the movie was just that bad.

But I haven't given up hope. I know that somewhere out there Kevin Van Hook is working on another movie that will bring a smile to my face--just not in the way that he was hoping. But I'm a fan of Kevin's. I've seen The Fallen Ones probably six or seven times. And each time it gets sillier and more inane. And that's just fine for me.

A Rose...

I live less than a mile from The Transfiguration Catholic Church--or as I like to call it, The Transmogrification Church. On their marquee at the moment is their latest welcome aboard message for the ever-changing Priest club. (A Priest that I know once told me that they like to change out the staff about every year--I guess to keep God guessing who's going to be talking.)

In any case, the new marquee welcomes in their latest: Father Arcangel.

Oh yeah. That's a Priest name! It did make me wonder if he changed his name when he decided to enter the Seminary, or if it was one of those "born-to-be" situations. Kinda like naming a kid Jeeves, knowing that he only has the option to be a butler at that point.

What's more, with a name like that he's set up to go beyond the pulpit, and get really into the action. Think about it: Father Arcangel, Private Eye. Or maybe he's a movie-style action hero, fighting the good fight in the name of the Catholic Church. Kinda like Indiana Jones, but with a more Pope-influenced mission to his adventures.

Or he could be a super-hero in his spare time! Holy fill-in-the-blank wouldn't even seem vaguely out of place. And with that name, he could be right out of the Silver or Golden Age. Jack Kirby could have fit Father Arcangel into his Fourth World stuff and not even hiccupped.

It is also possible that the obvious has happened. God has sent an angel down to lead his flock at this particular church. Of course, you would think that God would be a little more creative in a name, but hey, who am I to judge. If that's the case, though, I do expect some of my property rates to go up, what with the proximity to angelic proof and what.

I would like to further the efforts of The Transmogrification Church, and extend a hearty hand of welcome to Father Arcangel. No matter what the scenario that brought this magnificently named, true white-collar worker into our midst, just knowing that I have a would-be action superstar/private eye/ heavenly messenger so close to my home will help me sleep a little better tonight.

So to you, Father Arcangel: Mazel Tov.

Movie Stuff

I saw Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer today. Like most of the people that I know, I enjoyed it. I liked it at least as much as the first one, and possibly a little bit more. It's always hard to tell that sort of thing right as you walk out of a movie; I feel I can judge where it sits in scope a few weeks from now as I've let it digest in my memory.

The changes that they made to the story were perfectly understandable, and I feel that the movie overall had a very solid pace and structure to it. Not too many pitfalls, and the ones that were there didn't drag me out of the movie (unlike any of the "blockbuster" films that have been released to date this year). After talking to my friend Cliff, he cited that he thought the new FF film was an A-Class B-movie, unlike several B-Class A-Movies that are out, such as Spider-Man 3 (a film that I didn't hate, but it didn't live up to the first two--not by a long shot).

But that's not really what I wanted to talk about...

You might have noticed a video-presentation that happens in front of movies these days. It's little more than ads for upcoming films, television series, or whatever any advertisers pay to show on the screen before a movie. The productions are slick, and the ads are as innocuous as anything you would see on TV, and just as easy to ignore. (Though on a quick side-note, I will say that between the trailers, movie ads, and voluminous television ads, I don't think that I'm going to go see Evan Almighty. I was GOING to, because I like Steve Carell, but at this point I don't think that there is anything left to be revealed in the film. I'll wait for DVD or TV.)

One of the things that has bugged me about one of those video presentations is simply this: the title. I don't know if you have it in your part of the world, but here we have one called The 20-wenty. Yeah, you read right. The 20-wenty. This trend in graphic design bugs me. Sure, I understand that the name of the piece is "The Twenty" in the minds of the people that made it, but that isn't what it says. It clearly has the number "20" followed by the letters w-e-n-t-y. The 20-wenty.

It reminds me that we are living in an era where people can't spell because they "text" to many messages. They only know shorthand. And now those people have moved into the professional field, and they are bringing their habits with them. It's not a new trend, and one that is sure to fade--I hope and pray--over time, but for right now it's the trend, and it's one that I could live without. I hope that the whole "texting" craze dies soon, too. I hate watching people type letters that mean words during a movie. It just seems...rude.

Guess I'm old, but all those thoughts just rambled through my mind today while sitting in a movie theater with friends.

LOL

...aw damn...

Thunder, Thunder, Thunder...

It was announced this week that the 1980's cartoon The Thundercats was optioned for a feature film. Much has been made of whether the film will be live action or CGI animation, but nothing has been discussed about the STYLE of the film. Therefore I have a simple suggestion that can change the whole outlook for the film:

Andrew Lloyd Webber's Thunder-Cats.

Think about it. We can have such wonderful characters as Mr. Mestopholiono. Or the Rum Tum Tigra. Or Jellical Snark.

And the songs! The songs could be amazing. Songs like Old Jagarotomy. The Naming of Thundercats. Slitheshanks the Railway Mutant. And everyone would tear up at the singing of Mumm-ra-ies.

You know you want this.

Gone Too Soon

I was cleaning my house today, and at one point I cleaned one of my bookshelves with graphic novels on it. One of the books on the shelf was Reality Check by Rikki Simons and Tavisha Wolfgarth-Simons, a delightful comic about a virtual reality game world and the people that play in it. Mostly, though, it is about a cat that plays in that game world.

The two folks that created the series could have taken the book down a bad path with the boy who owns the cat (Collin) and the cat (Catreece)--who naturally turns out to be a cute cat-girl in the virtual reality world--with the two of them hooking up romantically. But they don't. The book takes the high road and it deals with Collin having to deal with keeping it a secret that his friend Catreece in the VR world is his cat in the real world.

It is a comedic delight, with wonderful social awkward moments designed to amuse. And what's more, it also has some great characters. All in all, a great read.

The two Simons who created the series work as Studio Tavicat, and they have other books that are equally entertaining, but to be honest, I miss Reality Check. I miss the characters they created there.

And it made me think that there are too many comics that went before their time, or worse, were forgotten before they ever had a time. So, this is the start of what will be a semi-recurring series of posts about comics that I wish were still around.

And I have a cat in a VR helmet to thank for the idea.

Whither John Hughes?...

I recently read an article that commented about the "musical wasteland" of the 1980's--and I will deal with that comment another time--and it brought to mind a single image, centered around a single song. Oddly enough, when I think of something that typifies the look and sound of the 1980's, I don't go punk, I go to high school--probably because that's when I was in high school.

If I bring up the song "Don't You Forget About Me" by Simple Minds, what do you think about? I imagine, if you are over the age of, say, 35, you think about Judd Nelson raising one fist over his head in an odd act of defiance. The closing scene in the coming-of-age 1980's classic, The Breakfast Club.

The Breakfast Club was the second movie directed by John Hughes, who had more than a small share of directorial success. Along with the aforementioned film, he also directed Sixteen Candles, Weird Science, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, She's Having a Baby, Uncle Buck and Curly Sue. And that's it. That's his entire directorial resume. And I saw all but one of those movies, that being Curly Sue, in the theater.

That is a rather impressive list of films to have under your belt, but it's also surprising. Curly Sue, the last film that Hughes directed, came out in 1991.

Why? What happened that caused him to stop directing? It's not that he hasn't been involved at all with films; Hughes is still writing plenty of movies, including one, Drillbit Taylor, that is due out in 2008. And he has produced some others that were big hits, including the Home Alone and Beethoven series of films.

But I miss his directing style. I miss the way that he tells a story visually. And I miss the way that he blended a movie with the soundtrack. He probably wasn't the first to do so, but I always seem to link the modern music soundtrack of original songs with Hughes.

And with that, an open plea to John Hughes:

John--can I call you John?--would you please think about directing a new movie? I know that I'm not the teenager that I once was, and that you have grown some since then, too, but I think that it would be great for you to do a movie about that same generation of people today. What the teens from the 1980's are doing now. I can't think of anyone else better for the job. Thanks for listening.

In the meantime, I'll just continue to hum Simple Minds and hold a fist in the air.

Native America

Today, my wife, myself, and two of our dear friends went to the 18th Annual Cherokee County Indian Festival and Pow-Wow. Besides having a very long title, this annual event is a display of Native American arts and crafts, along with cultural education and a display of traditional Native American dancing, drumming and storytelling. It was a lot of fun, and a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

But that's not why I'm telling you this.

My wife has issues with dead animals. Not like you think, but rather with the body parts that she leaves behind. As we were wandering the booths we saw plenty of beautiful jewelery, striking clothes, tacky clothes (don't want to deceive and make you think that EVERYTHING was nice...), some cool artwork, some tacky artwork, and even hand-crafted flutes and drums. Our friend Heather was very happy with some of the jewelery, and even suggested to her beau that the $300.00 necklace that was there would look fabulous on her; he agreed and then quickly went to the next booth. My wife, too, saw jewerly that she really liked, but it didn't evoke the same response.

What got her to respond was the coyote skin.

A full coyote pelt that was sitting out in the sun, and still had a couple of bones sticking out of the legs to keep the feet properly shaped. Her eyes got wide and she checked it out all over, just desperate to take the thing home. Unfortunately, like with Heather's would-be necklace, the price made me move on to the next booth.

But that was really just the beginning. The knowledge that there was one coyote pelt at the festival was enough to get looking for more. And, in fact, there was. The next to last booth that we checked out, the one right next to the clog-free gutter booth--what they were doing there, we don't have a clue--had a more affordable piece of coyote. So, we came home this afternoon with a coyote face and some teeth. These items now proudly sit on our mantle, awaiting a more permanant home.

Now, before anyone gets too ruffled about her taking home some dead animal parts, let me explain that she is, in fact, 1/4 Native American herself, and she holds these things in VERY high regard. In fact, while we were looking at the whole pelt the man working the booth started to explain to her the significance of the coyote, which she quickly picked up and started expounding upon greatly. Our friend, Mike, turned to me and said, "he didn't know who he was talking to, did he?"


On another front, but still animal related, there was an exhibit of many birds of prey at the festival. Hawks, kestrels, and falcons took center stage, while a parrot sat over to the side with that "hey, I'm pretty mean to pieces of fruit!" look on his face. And being a fan of not only birds of prey, but also the Atlanta Falcons, I was pretty jonesed to see the falcons there. I've seen plenty of hawks, but the falcons (and the kestrel, too) were new to me at such a close viewing.

They were beautiful animals, but I felt bad for them. It was a hot day, and one of hawks out in the sun seemed to be panting. I wanted to get them something to drink, until I saw that there were large saucers of clean water right next to them, as you can see in the photo. But still...

So, in short, it was an interesting day of both living and dead animals for us. I left with memories and some cool photos, but my wife, she brought home a face. And what more can you ask than having face in today's society?

On Good and Evil

I will start this post with the statement that I have never seen any episode of The Sopranos, nor do I plan to ever do so.

This past Sunday I went and saw Spider-Man 3. Not a great movie, but not a horrible one, either--but that's not what I want to talk about. Spoiler alert for those that haven't seen the movie.

At one point in the movie, after Peter Parker has gone "dark", he goes to confront Harry Osborne. To make it short, Pete beats the daylights outta Harry, who admitedly, isn't the nicest guy in the world and sort of brings it on himself. And after Harry has had the tar beat out of him, he tries one last-ditch attack on Pete, who turns the attack around to have a bomb blow up in Harry's face. Kinda harsh, but then it gets worse because of the attitude that Pete has as he walks off mocking Harry's pain and disfigurement. That's bad. That's really bad, and not vaguely heroic. And the worst thing that happened during the entire movie happened at that point: several people in the crowd cheered.

They were happy to see an "evil" Peter Parker attack and disfigure a man that was called Pete's best friend not half-an-hour earlier.

The other day, while listening to the radio, two of the radio personalities were discussing The Sopranos. I don't recall the exact events that led up to the statement, but one of the people in the show was referred to as not being a "nice person". The other individual stated that none of the characters on the show were nice people. They were all criminals, killers and not exactly upstanding examples of society. The first person said, "well, that's not true of Tony. He's just a regular guy." His partner sounded shocked. He again pointed out that Tony Soprano was a criminal who had killed many people. He was a killer, and not a nice person at all. But the Tony supportist was unwavering, stating that Tony was just a guy like any other, and he was just doing his job. They are the perfect example of what I want to talk about.

Only half of the people in the world get it.

There is a significant portion of the populace who see The Sopranos as "cool". It turns someone horrible--a killer in this instance--into someone that you cheer for. Someone that you think is admirable. Just a regular guy, doing his job.

I'm not saying that The Sopranos is a poorly executed show. Again, I've never seen it. But I have seen the evidence that it, and things like it--things like the movie Scarface, the Grand Theft Auto videogame series, and The Shield--have done with society. It's made the evil guy the good guy. Someone and something to cheer about.

Perhaps we've brought it on ourselves. We've let our need for sensation run rampant to the point where we need a bigger and bigger high to get the same thrill, to the point where only the bad guy is really cool enough to watch. Maybe that's it. But I really don't think that's it entirely. I've played lots of videogames. I've watched lots of movies and TV shows. I've got tons of rock-and-roll that I listen to. And yet, I don't see the light in the dark.

In truth, I just think that we've let things get out of control from a personal perspective. We all control what we do and how we let outside influences affect us. The people who are making these things are just reflecting what they see in society, not the other way around.

Maybe I'm wrong, and maybe people aren't that way. Maybe I'm mis-reading it completely. But I don't feel that way.

I'm in the half that didn't cheer Peter Parker going bad.

Deja Vu

I would swear that I posted something about this very fact not that long ago...

Caution: Here There Be Dragon No More

It was announced a couple of days ago that both Dungeon and Dragon magazines were coming to an end. If you don't play role-playing games, that really doesn't seem like a big deal, but to those of us that are big-time gamers, it's a sad passing.

I haven't played Dungeons and Dragons for years. I've flirted with coming back with the release of 3.0 and 3.5, but to date I haven't made it back for anything but an occassional game or two. There are other games that have held my attention more.

But those magazines have still caught my eye every month. I don't always read them, but I always look through them. It takes me back to when I was in high school and first was introduced to role-playing. When every issue was something exciting and new, and inevitably everyone would try to incorporate what was in the issue almost immediately in the game. But there wasn't as much material available then, so each and every thing they added was precious.

Things today are not the same. The material from Wizards of the Coast is ten-fold everything that was available 25 years ago when I first started playing D&D, and there is plenty of additional material coming out from third-party companies every month. Both Dungeon and Dragon became specialty magazines, with each issue focusing on a niche aspect of the game, trying to flesh it out completely. But I don't know if that's what has brought about their demise.

Dungeons and Dragons still sells very well. And both Dungeon and Dragon magazine have strong sales from what I can determine talking to distributors. So I can't say what caused them to lose their place on the shelves. Paizo Publishing is planning to release a new magazine called Pathfinder that will be, well, expensive. And it's said that Dragon Magazine will continue using an online model...but it won't be the same.

No longer will there be that made rush through a stack of magazines to find the write-up on the Anti-Paladin. You won't be scanning over every page looking for the last hidden "Growf" that Phil Foglio drew.

And what's more, it seems to be an indication to me that the RPG industry really is heading down an online road, aimed at a smaller and smaller audience of people who appreciate the social and creative aspects of the game.

So, to Dungeon magazine: farewell, and good luck. To Dragon Magazine: good-bye old friend, I wish that we could have had more time together, even though we've grown apart some in the past couple of decades...or so.

A Brush With Greatness

Due to actions beyond my control, I have been dealing with a lot of Conan lately. Savage Sword of Conan, actually. If you want to know why, check out Cliff and Charles' blogs.

But in any case, while dealing with these magazines, I had a moment of reflection. About comic art, so don't think I was getting deep or anything.

Specifically, I thought about Alex Ross. Not because of all the work he did for Savage Sword, because to the best of my knowledge, he didn't do any, but rather about how he is currently the end-all of comic painters. He wasn't the first, and he won't be the last.

In fact, I saw the work of three of his more noted predecesors on the pages of those magazines. And it pretty much reflected three decades worth of comic painters in one series.

For the 1990's we had the work of Joe Jusko. Joe did some fine work, filled with bright colors and neo-classical design. But, I am sad to say, there was nothing about Joe's work that spoke to me. I found him technically good, but uninspired. But I was obviously in the minority, as he garnered a world of fans that had him up on the highest pedestal.

For the 1980's there was Bill Sienkiewicz. That's pronounced "Bill" for those wondering (as he once told me himself). Now I was, and remain, a huge fan of this man's work. It shows passion and design, along with an understanding of storytelling in his panel-to-panel work and dynamicism in his stand-alone paintings. I have always wanted to own one of his painted originals, and perhaps one day will. I already have some of his black and white linework, so that's a start. But I digress...Bill was very popular, but had much more of a schism to his following, as it seemed just as many people hated his stuff as loved it. To me though, it's brilliant.

And for the 1970's we have Richard Corben. Corben's airbrush style landed him at the top of the comic game for a while, and also brought him to the attention of the marketing industry as his work appeared on any number of books, albums, and whatnot. His style was always hit-or-miss for me, with some pieces looking brilliant and others horribly deformed, but in his day he was king of comic painters.

Now, this is far from a complete list. There have been a wealth of painters who have made significant contributions to the comic field. Some guy named Frazetta leaps to mind. But this is me talking about the three folks whose work struck out at me from the cover of Conan, and what they are in my mind.

And all three of these people are still active in the comic community. They still produce work for companies, and there are still folks who are thrilled to see their work. But they aren't the top dog anymore. That's where Alex Ross sits. Ross' near photo-realistic styling has people ooh-ing and ahh-ing left and right--for now. But there will come a time when he will fade. Someone else will come along and he will thrown out like yesterday's guache.

Zombie?...or Vampire?

If there is anything that I've learned from my many days of horror, sci-fi and gaming, it's that when something dies and comes back from the dead, it isn't natural. In fact, it's never a good thing.

When something comes back from the dead, it is either a zombie or a vampire.

Which of course raises the question: is Jesus a zombie or a vampire?

Every year around this time, my mind is flooded with this dilemma, but as a result I've had plenty of time to think about it. Zombies are brain-eating shamblers with social skill issues and horrible wardrobes. Vampires on the other hand are exactly the opposite, at least in the social skill and wardrobe department. Granted, vampires don't eat brains, but they do feed off of the blood of the living, so I do consider that one a wash.

Now, granted that the majority of the Christian faith does seem to fall into the zombie catagory, but we're looking at the head man of the operation and not the little guys.

It has been documented that Jesus had a little party once upon a time where he was insistant that his closest followers eat of his flesh and drink of his blood--paraphrasing of course. To me, this smacks completely of the actions of a vampire. I mean, drink of my blood? Vampires are known to procreate and amass an army of followers through the exact same system.

The one problem with this is that the whole last supper story is said to happen BEFORE his death and not after. That flies directly against the vampire arguement. But the zombie angle doesn't hold up either, mostly due to the complex actions Jesus was involved with after his death. The speeches and the total lack of brain eating are a dead giveaway--pun intended.

So, that brings me back to vampire. But there is a story of Jesus meeting some women on the road to Bethany and appearing in a shower of sunlight. That goes very much against the whole vampire thing again, so we're back to zombie. But Jesus is appearing and disappearing and moving giant stones and such, which is far beyond the capabilities of any zombie.

Where does that leave us then?

I have a theory. I think that Jesus is a Super-Zombie-Vampire! He is the only one of his kind, showing the strength and abilities of a vampire, with the resilience of a zombie. And he was able to create his own personal fashion sense as well.

We may never really know the answer to this dilemma, but that doesn't mean that we can't think about it whenever the amazing story of a man dying for saying "be nice" too often and then coming back for his vengeance comes up.

Happy Easter.

What To Find on the Interwebs

So, my friend Jared and I were joking around about getting more hits on our blogs.

Jared just had a posting from his blog put on a consumer site (I can't remember which one, sorry), and he saw a huge spike in his blog hits today. It was pretty cool.

Thus to get more hits, we thought that we should add some appropriate labels and or terms to a post, thus attracting attention. It was a funny joke. Funny enough that I looked for the top searched words and phrases on the internet for the past few days. And I know what you're thinking: just start with the word "porn" and go downhill from there. I thought that same thing.

I was stunned.

The top searched thing was "myspace". Which, in case this is somehow the very first website that you have ever visited, is the name of a popular website. Right behind it were "google", "ebay" and "yahoo". Again, websites. And what's more, two of them are search engines. Do people actually search for search engines? Further on down the list also includes "msn" and "ask.com". Total confusion.

The first porn related entry was at #14 on the list, and that was "Jenna Jameson". Not exactly a newcomer to the industry, it's good to see that Jenna has been able to hold the attention of the sexual side of the internet for this long.

I really expected more adult entertainment aspects to the search engine check-up, but both music stars and video games had far more entries, as well as higher ranking entries than the old libido. (Though I was surprised--and disappointed--that my video game of choice, World of Warcraft, didn't make the cut for the top 500 searches.)

What's the meaning and purpose of all this? Well, I guess that there is still some things that surprise us. I would say that there is still "hope for humanity", but I'm not a person that feels that looking at things sexual in nature--so long as those sexual matters are between mature, consenting adult humans--is necessarily a bad thing.

So, when your first thought about the internet is that it's nothing but a conduit for porn: think again. Apparantly it's a conduit for people to use search engines to search for...search engines.

Well, I guess you can worry after all.

I am going to take this opportunity to rebut something that a friend of mine said.

Recently on his blog, Charles gave a glowing review of Spring in Georgia. He spoke of the beauty and the tranquil nature of the time of year.

I'm here to tell you that is a lie. If there is indeed a Hell, Georgia in Spring is a clear reflection of it.

Oh, the trees and the sky might be beautiful, but that beauty is only surface deep. Beneath it is a terror of immense proportion. For you see, Spring in Georgia means only one thing to me: pollen.

You might think that is an annoyance, and very little else, but it isn't. You see, Georgia has a special agreement with pollen. All the pollen that isn't allowed to show up in any other part of the world at this time is relocated to Georgia so that it can romp around and have fun with all the other pollen.

I mean, that has to be the case, right?

The Atlanta Allergy Clinic has a daily pollen meter, letting you know the pollen count and its relative danger to anyone who has reactions to said pollen. Most places have a high pollen count near 100, making it a high pollen, but not quite in the dangerous range. Anything over 125 is considered dangerous.

The pollen count today is 5,499.

You read correctly. Five-thousand four-hundred and ninety-nine. Aw heck, for simplicity sake let's go ahead and round it up to 5,500. That makes the pollen count 44 TIMES the dangerous level of pollen.

Let me put it another way. My truck and my wife's car are both an odd yellow color. They weren't when we bought our vehicles, but they are today, and probably will be for a while. They are covered in a layer of pollen. This normally happens when the numerous pine trees of the area start to pollenate. They haven't started yet. What we have right now is Oak, Sweet Gum, Sycamore, Birch, Mulberry, and Beech. Of those six trees, I am allergic to...all of them.

So, right now I'm sleeping a lot. Over 12 hours a day, and the times that I'm not sleeping, I'm tired and thinking about sleep. It is absolutely miserable right now. Spring in Georgia is the absolute worst time of year. I dread it's coming, and hate it when it is here.

Therefore, I refute the idea that Spring is pretty. The flowers and other colors that debut around this time are beautiful, but beauty is only surface deep, and the tiny terror that lies beneath the beauty attacks deep.

I am fascinated by certain phenomenon. In this case, it's a social phenomenon.

When I was in Elementary School, back in the early 1970's there was a jingle for McDonald's that started with "McDonald's is your kind of place..." I want to say it was one of the jingles that was written by Barry Manilow, but I haven't checked that thought, mostly because that isn't the important part.

The important part, and to me, the amazing part, is that as a small child I sang not the traditional version, but a version that went:

McDonald's is your kind of place!
Shove hamburgers in your face!
Stuff french fries up your nose!
Put pickles between your toes!
And don't forget our famous shakes,
they're made from polluted lakes!
McDonald's is your kind of place!

Clever words, I know, but that still isn't the important part. The most important thing, and the truly amazing thing, is that my wife, Allyson sang that same song in Elementary School. I grew up in Fort Wayne, Indiana. She grew up in Smyrna, Georgia. And we were singing the same insipid parody of a song at roughly the same time.

Now, this happened long before the internet was a reality. There was no way to communicate this directly. But the other day I stated that someplace was my kind of place, and she went right into the song. We both knew the same song. So I did a very unscientific study and asked a couple of people around my age if they knew that song. They did. One was from Florida and the other from Texas.

How? How did this song get from Indiana to Georgia to Florida to Texas? The concept of synchronicity leaps to mind, but just seeing a realization of it makes me wonder.

And think about the whole "Jingle Bells, Batman Smells" song.

One more thing about the death of Captain America...

He shouldn't be dead.

No, not from the fact that I think they were idiots to kill the character off, but from a couple of simple facts.

First off, he was in costume. If the story was accurate, Cap was a prisoner. Prisoners don't get to keep their own clothes. He should have been in standard prison issue.

Second, as a prisoner being transferred, federal law requires a prisoner being transferred to wear a flak vest. A bullet-proof flak vest. And Cap wasn't shot in the head, he was shot in the stomach, exactly where the vest would have protected him. Oh, and even if he got the special permission to wear his own outfit, that outfit seems to be made of some form of armor, designed I think, to protect him from things like, oh I don't know...bullets?

And finally, when Cap looks up and notices the sniper, why does he keep this information to himself? I guess he wanted to protect the team of elite SHIELD agents around him that are trained to deal with all manner of dangerous threats from a lone gunman. Or maybe he just gave up? After all, he's only survived for decades through war and death of those closest to him and being frozen in a block of ice. So, having a bad experience while three civil workers tackle him for...wait, why did they tackle him? That really was never made clear in Civil War.

No, I feel that the thing that killed Cap (ignoring the previous post) was bad writing. I would go on, but this entry would simply disolve, rather quickly, into a diatribe against the state of writing at Marvel these days.

It has been a week, so I feel that I have a little distance and can talk about the death of Captain America.

When I first read the issue, my initial thought was that I wanted to have fifteen minutes alone with Joe Quesada in a locked room. Now that it's been a week, I still want that, but not because Captain America was killed.

In truth, Captain America isn't dead. He can't be. It's just impossible.

That's because he was never alive. He was nothing more than ink lines on paper. So, no matter how hard someone tries to kill a comic book character, they will never succeed. Someone, somewhere, at some time, will bring that character back. Well, if it matters, they will bring that character back.

And I do think that Steve Rogers matters. And that is why I want to spend time with J.Q. in a locked room.

Quesada has openly stated that he thinks that Steve Rogers was an outdated character. That he, and I am paraphrasing here, was no longer an accurate reflection of America. In fact, in Civil War Frontline, Rogers was confronted and told as much, indicating that because he didn't have a My Space page, or that he couldn't name the finalists from American Idol, he no longer was truly showing what it was to be American. God help us if either of those things become a true indication of what it means to be American. But again, that isn't the point.

The point is that it becomes incredibly obvious with those statements that Joe Quesada has no idea the true identity Captain America. He isn't now, nor really has he ever been, a reflection of America. He is a reflection of the American ideal. What we would all like to be, or what, as a country, we would at least like to represent.

When I was a child comics played a very important role in my life. They helped me to understand the difference between right and wrong. They gave me an idea of morals, and what it was to try to live up to ideals. You might not ever get there, but it was a goal worth having. And at the pinnacle of that goal was Captain America. He always did the right thing, understanding that sometimes the things that you do have a price to pay. And he was always able to overcome those odds to win.

In today's comic attitude, he is outdated. Stated as much by the current Editor-in-Chief, Joe Quesada. But then comics have been having moral issues for about a decade and a half--but that's another post. The sad thing is that Quesada and his cronies don't care about that, which is sad. The happy part is that Joe Quesada's actual title is CURRENT Editor-in-Chief. His time will pass.

And eventually, possibly sooner than later, Steve Rogers will be back. Captain America will once again be representing everything that America strives to be. Everything that is best in a comic character. The American dream. After all, he always overcomes even the worst of odds.

And he really isn't dead. You can't kill ink lines. Or a dream.

March 13th is the birthday of the most important person in my life.

Birthdays are kind of a big deal between us. We met on my birthday. We got married on the same "day" (the 13th, only six months later) as her birthday. The first time that we spent the night together was on my birthday.

But most importantly, it's a day that I get to pay extra attention to her. So, I'm going to spend some of that time right now.

I don't think that it's an overstatement to say that I live my life for her. At some point in your life, you meet someone that becomes more important to you than yourself. For the very lucky, that person is someone who lets you into their life, and lets you share every moment--the good, the bad, the ordinary, the extraordinary. And for the very, very lucky, that person feels the same way about you.

My day begins with Allyson. Normally, she is going to work, and since we work different hours, she wakes me up to say goodbye, I lazily smile and wish her a good day, promising to talk to her later in the day. At the moment, she is between jobs, so I wake to her being in the same room with me. In either case, it brings a smile to my face, knowing that she is there.

And every night my day ends with her. She normally falls asleep before me, with me kissing her gently and promising her a good nights sleep and pleasant dreams. Then I get to see her sleeping beside me for a while, which I consider special bonus time of being able to look at her. (Kinda creepy sounding, maybe, but hey, I'm opening up here.)

But the best part is that I get to be around her during all of my "me" time. And by that, I mean that no matter what time I am around her, I always get to be me. There are some people I have seen in relationships that become someone else when they are around their significant others. But Allyson and I are so similar in so many ways that we are always just...ourselves. She accepts my quirks as a part of me--and trust me, I've got quirks aplenty.

And on top of all that, she's beautiful. Truly beautiful. Inside and out.

And she has chosen to share her remarkable life and love with me. And now she's been with me for another year of her life, and I'm hoping for every year that I'm left on this planet. Which I guess makes me the luckiest man alive.

If this seems a little maudlin and sickly sweet, well, then obviously this wasn't meant for you.

I love you Allyson. Happy birthday.

I took my wife to see Spamalot.

It's hard to believe that they made a play out of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, even more unbelieveable that it's a musical. And most amazingly, it's very, very good.

Both Allyson and I were laughing and smiling through the whole production. And we also noticed that there seemed to be two distinct types of people at the show: the fans of the movie and fans of plays. One of them seemed to know what was going to happen next, while the other was just rolling with the blows. And both groups seemed to be enjoying the play equally.

I guess if you have good material, it doesn't matter whether you are watching something because it's an old favorite or if it's something new. In fact, the reason that it is probably one of your favorites is because it's something that does have quality material behind it. And real quality is fairly timeless.

The play isn't just a scene for scene version of the movie, though, in case you didn't already know that, but that doesn't hurt a thing. The story has a different ending, and many new and different parts in the middle, but the humor remains very high. It's updated a little, adds a romance or two--both comedic, still--and a happy ending all for the Broadway crowd, which gives old fans a sense of something new. But keeping things like The Knights Who Say Ni, The Black Knight, The Killer Rabbit, and, probably the most popular, The Taunting French Knights.

In fact, it was amazing the cheers that some characters got when they appeared on stage. That was the easiest way to tell who knew the movie and who didn't: the ones who looked around confused at the cheers were obviously new to the story.

Before I get carried away and wander too much with this post, I'm going to come to a close. As a final statement, I give the play my recommendation. Not just to Python fans, but to anyone who enjoys a good musical comedy.

It used to be that you could get a donut whenever you wanted. That isn't true anymore, it seems.

Last night, my wife wanted a donut. She loves donuts. And being that I'm one of those guys that likes to make my wife happy, we went on a donut run. At 9:30 pm. On a Sunday.

I didn't think twice about it. I've had the cravings for donuts many, many times in the past, usually late at night seeing as how I'm a night owl, and I've run down to Dunkin Donuts and bought myself whatever looked good. Last night changed the way that I think about donuts, and not in a good way.

For almost two hours my wife and I scoured the area looking for an open donut shop. We never found one.

The places that I used to go at 2:00 in the morning to pick up an apple-filled delight were closed. "No problem," my wife calmly stated, "there is a 24-hour place over in Roswell. Let's go there!" So off we went. No luck.

Being a Dunkin Donuts guy, I reluctantly decided that it was okay to go to the Krispy Kream shop over in Marietta, near the Big Chicken. I lived in that area for years, and I passed by a light reading "Hot Donuts Now!" more times than I can remember. It was always open, and seemingly always busy. So we made the long trek from Roswell to The Big Chicken. And when we got there...it was closed. Not out-of-business closed, just closed for the night. And obviously we weren't the only ones disappointed, as there were three other cars that had pulled into the parking lot and were turning around with the same confused look on the driver's face.

It seems that something in America has changed--at least in the southeast. It used to be that I was feeling a little swelling of pride, thinking that this part of the country was becoming like other places in the sense that you felt you could get what you wanted when you wanted it. Not anymore.

I can understand not being able to go buy things like a new car at midnight, but a donut? What are we coming to? Is our society so much in economic decline that we can't even get a glazed delight at any odd hour of the morning? Oh, how I mourn for our children's future...

Personally, I blame Wal-Mart.

Signs can be wonderful things. They let you know exactly what's what with what...or something like that. But when they go wrong they can be very entertaining.

My friend Cliff Biggers recently touched on this in a post, where he talked about one of his favorite phrases, "No Purchase, No Refund", which appeared on a sign at Dr. NO's when he first bought the store. And driving around last night I was reminded that some of the best signs that I've seen weren't supposed to be what I saw.

Last night I passed a sign that read "Disco Tires." Sounds like a great place: get some tires, do the hustle.

One of my foavorites has always been the "Waffle Hose" sign. I'm not sure exactly what you would get at that place. I don't know if it is a hose made of waffles, or a hose that delivers waffles.

I have often passed a place that, for a time, called itself "Iffy Lube". I didn't have enough confidence in the place to stop there and have my car serviced.

Similarly to another place already mentioned, I have passed a place calling itself "Waffle Ho". That seems like a very specific fetish to me.

I know that there are others like this that are escaping my memory, but I'll mention those another time.

So, some signs aren't what the designer intended. But they are still very memorable.

I had a nice Valentine's Day.

Actually, I had a very nice Valentine's Day. I took Allyson out for sushi, which she hadn't had for a couple of months due to money constraints around here, and I can now honestly say that I've seen my wife eat a boatload of food. Normally when we go to the sushi place she gets chirashi (at least I think that's how it's spelled) and I get pad thai with chicken. Sure, it's a routine, but we both like those dishes so what's the big deal.

But on Valentine's Day restaurants feel the need to change things up. They want to present a special Valentine's Day menu. Thank goodness. This means that the menu that you go in to have isn't there. Or if Valentine's Day is the first time that you are eating at a place you have no idea what their normal food is like. Great for business.

Now, I do understand that Valentine's is the single busiest day for restaurants across the United States, and that most places have to make adjustments to be able to feed that many people in a quick turnaround so that they can maximize profit, but it just seems like you aren't getting the best that a restaurant has to offer if you judge it based on food served that one day out of the year.

Oh, about Allyson's food boat. We got the special dinner for two. She got the sashimi selection, while I got the hibachi steak and lobster. They served her sashimi in one of those large wooden boats you normally see the large selection of sushi. She loved it. And she ate a boatload of food. But she was happy, and that's a good thing.

I do want to take another moment here to talk about the cards that my wife gives me. Most people get very nice cards that are bought for them, reflecting either (in best cases) how they feel about their partner, or (in worst cases) how they are supposed to feel about their partner.

My wife makes the cards she gives me. One of the benefits of being married to a graphic designer, I suppose. My Valentine's Day card features the very cute lion and tiger from the Weebls "Kenya" video, each holding a heart and dancing, while song lyrics appear over their head telling me how much she loves me.

I love my wife.

I have two electrical outlets that don't work. They worked last week, but they don't work today. Now, I know a little bit about wiring a house, and I don't understand how this has happened. I traced the wires, checked the connections, and couldn't find a break. The volt/ohm meter told me there wasn't a solid connection, which is I'm sure the problem, but I don't know what caused it. What's more, I have no idea how it happened over a course of the past week. Well, that's not entirely true; I have one theory.

I think that my house is cursed.

Every time I turn around it seems that there is something else that is happening to this house that defies explanation. Whether it's light bulbs burning out far too regularly, or our hot water heater running out of water too quickly, or even our wine going bad far too quickly, things around here sometimes just don't make sense.

I don't think that it's haunted or anything quite as supernatural, but I do think that there is something about this house that brings bad things to the forefront. We don't get good cable reception, or good cell phone reception, or...well, you get the idea. I think that the house might be built on a lodestone, or a pocket of toxic gas, or maybe an ancient indian burial ground. I dunno.

But anyway, I'm gonna call an electrician tomorrow. If things go well he'll get the problem fixed quickly. If not, then the house will burn down and the curse will be lifted. Either way, it's a good thing.

Well, I didn't make it. I forgot to post something last night, mostly due to the fact that I was very tired when I got home last night. I don't know if that was due to the fact that I'm getting old or the fact that I'm fighting a sinus infection, but I do know that it was late and I didn't even think about the blog.

Well, I did send a couple of people to my blog, so i did think about it, but I didn't think about writing for it.

Oh, and as I'm writing this, I thought about something that I want to say about today. It's Saturday, and I have to wonder: what happened to cartoons? None of the network stations in Atlanta show cartoons on Saturday morning. There are Saturday morning cartoons shown on Sunday morning, but nothing on Saturday. I have no idea why this has happened. Apparantly somewhere along the way someone at the local affiliate's offices decided that there were no children in metro Atlanta on Saturday morning. Either that, or children these days don't like to watch cartoons.

In either case, I'm a little saddened by this fact. Some of my fondest memories, as well as some of the events that formed my life, can be found in the moments of a Saturday morning cartoon. True, there isn't a Looney Tunes on network television at the moment--and no, Lunatics Unleashed doesn't count--but there are some entertaining shows out there still. I just wish that I could watch one this morning.

Suddenly it's 1982.

I say this only because I see my wife, sitting on the floor of our rec room, surrounded by a variety of game manuals, preparing an adventure for this Saturday night.

When I first started playing role-playing games I was a sophomore in high school. When I first started running a game, I was a junior. I would spend hours--more hours than I spent on homework, if I'm forced to be totally honest--scouring through the four Dungeons and Dragons manuals that were out at the time, carefully constructing game worlds and scenarios for others to enjoy. And I loved it.

The act of creation is cathartic. Amazingly so, in fact. It gives you a sense of accomplishment unlike almost any other thing. To have your ideas brought to life in any way brings a sense of satisfaction, a belief in yourself, and a sense of completion. Something that you thought of has seen its way to the finish, or at least the start of a finish.

You see, unlike most stories, when you are playing in a role-playing game, you aren't the only storyteller. If you are running a game, you are simply presenting the situation where others get to step in and tell you what happens. You are the archetect of the tale, but in this case the characters truly have their own lives. The players are just as important as the gamemaster, since they dictate what happens.

Of course, the gamemaster is still the archetect of what happens. So, even if you have the best players in the world, the story can still fall flat if the gamemaster hasn't created the right tale. Or worse, if they have too much ego involved in the game. I was in one game where, when the story reached its pinnacle after several weeks of play, the characters got to sit out and watch as the gamemaster told us what happened in the game. Our characters were nothing more than sideline participants as he told us--over the course of almost two hours--what happened around us. Perhaps the worst game that I've been in.

Another gamemaster was so egotistical that if the player's in his game ever came up with a way around what he had set for his plot, he found a way to cancel what they did. At every turn, the players were upstaged by the antagonists of the game, making everything the players did with their characters seem futile and pointless. The players lost interest and the game lost all manner of direction. (Sadly, that game is still going on, and I dread having to go back to playing it...and I hope that gamemaster doesn't read my blog, because he is a good friend and I don't want to hurt him.)

And now I sit here, watching my wife prepare for the game that I will play in two days from now. She is an amazing storyteller. She has a unique voice and a powerful imagination. And she runs a hell of a game. That's not just me saying it because I love her, either; all of the players in her game feel the same. She has been able to create something that we all look forward to playing. And she prepares better than anyone I know. Far better than I ever have.

Still, no matter how much preperation you do, you can't control what others do with what you lay before them. But if you prepare well, and you have the right mindset and trust in your players, you can create a storytelling experience unlike any other that is offered in this world today.

I've been playing role-playing games for over 26 years, and I love it to this day. Sitting here seeing my wife happily immersed in her game creation moments only tells me that the stories that in my future are only beginning. And I couldn't be happier.

Well, I said that I was going to post something every day, so here I am. And that's pretty much the only reason that I'm posting this one, because I am in a really bad mood, and I don't feel like sharing why.

So, let's remember that sometimes people have bad days.

So anyway...

I'm heading to work in about two hours, which wouldn't seem that odd if I hadn't got home from work about an hour ago. You see, tonight is the night that Stephen King releases his first comic. Well, I guess you could argue that it isn't directly his comic, but it is a comic of his imagining.

The Dark Tower: The Gunslinger Born is the new series from King's imagination, brought about by one of his aides, and a couple of comic veterans. Is it any good? Beats me, I haven't read it yet. But I'm going to go sell it at midnight tonight. And I will sell it. There were enough calls about it today to convince me that we will have people showing up at our store to buy this book. I'm all for it.

However, we can't sell them the other books that come out on Wednesday. Sure, any time after midnight is technically Wednesday, but there is a clause in our contract that says that we can't sell them before 9:00 am on Wednesday. Which means that there are going to be some people who show up wanting to get all of their books for tomorrow, and we have to tell them no. I hate that. I understand it, but I hate it. I don't like to look at a customer and tell them that they can't buy something, and worse, there are going to be people who think that I'm going to be doing it just to be mean.

So, in about two hours I'm heading to work. And I'm going to be happy to be selling books to happy fans who are showing up to get the first crack at what is bound to be a very popular comic. But I'm far more concerned that what I'm not going to sell is going to be the issue, and I hate that.

Here's hoping that I don't leave anyone disappointed.

Someone recently said that I don't post enough on my blog. So, for the next week, I'm going to make a post a day. I mean, why not? I don't promise anything inciteful, but at least it will be voluminous.

A week or so ago I mentioned the network shows that I've recently been watching. If you don't remember, then...well, then why are you reading this? I don't have that many posts. Just go back a couple and read. I can wait.

hmmmhmmmhmmm...hmmmhmmhmmmm.

Okay, welcome back. Anyway, I like the show Scrubs. I watch it every Thursday. But the other day I wanted to watch it some more, so I watched two straight hours of Scrubs. On four different channels.

There is just something odd about being able to channel surf from one area of the dial (does that even make sense anymore? Does anyone actually use a dial to change channels these days?) to the opposite area of the dial, and watch different episodes of the same series four times in a row.

I haven't been paying too much attention before now, but this seems to happen more than I realized. It seems that there are only a few shows that make the rounds at any given time, and as such you end up getting a small selection of shows being shown again and again. If you like what's on, that's a good thing, but if you don't...well, just realize that in a few years, or maybe months, there will be a new group of shows that you can see. For a couple of hours at a time.

What happened? And how did I miss it?

It wasn't that long ago that I could say that I didn't watch network television. Oh sure, there was the occassional episode of The Simpsons, but that was about it. Most of my television watching was cable shows or sports programming (much to the absolute delight of my wife, but that's another blog...), and network television was something that was the literal vast wasteland of infamy.

And now...I don't understand it.

I watch network television two nights a week. Not a ton, I know, but on Monday's and Thursdays, NBC has my attention. Monday is Heroes night, and I have become one of the very loyal masses for the show. I'm not blind to it, I find that some episodes are better than others (this past Monday being a fairly nothing episode), but overall I'm hooked. I want to see what happens. I want to know who Linderman is. They got me.

And then there is Thursday. Still on NBC, where they don't just have me for an hour, but for two full hours, and four full shows. I watch My Name is Earl, The Office, Scrubs, and 30 Rock. Every week. If I miss them I get upset.

The dichotomy of these two nights of television doesn't escape me. Mondays are drama, using a very character-driven premise (that has the natural comic book appeal for me), letting the story evolve over a long period of time and providing some edge of your seat cliffhanger moments. Thursdays are the opposite in every way. While the characters on all four of the Thursday shows are strong--and make the shows, honestly--it is the strength of each individual episode's moments and plots that hold it together.

What's my point in all of this? Beats me. I guess that I'm just stating that even in a vast wasteland, you will find an oasis of something that, while not necessarily beautiful, it can be rather pleasant. Maybe even nice--at least for a little while.

I'm just curious to see at this point how long it takes the wasteland to overcome the little spot that I've become fond of?...

Let's give credit where credits are rolling.

Comic book movies are no longer an oddity. They are now a firm part of the cinematic firmament. Some of the best known and popular films of the past quarter century are based on comic icons. From Superman to Batman to X-Men to Spider-Man, comics have left their mark on the silver screen. And I'm all for this. I love comics, and seeing them brought to the big screen was a dream of mine from the early days.

So, given that the films themselves are a reality--and a successful one at that--I think that I'm going to focus my attention on the source material. Well, more specifically, the source company. The publishers that are responsible for the initial act of putting these characters on bookshelves.

Dark Horse has done an admirable job with their product. Most people remember The Mask and Hellboy, and Sin City and the upcoming 300 look great, so they get a passing grade. Image has done Spawn...and that's all I can think of at the moment. Not a great film, but not enough to get a failing grade.

But they aren't who I really want to talk about. I want to talk about the big boys.

Marvel. They have done an exceptional job at getting their product on the big screen--from a particular point of view. They have put out such a plethora of product--with Ghost Rider, Fantastic Four and Spider-Man 3 on the horizon--that you've got plenty to choose from. Spider-Man has been on twice, Daredevil once with an Elektra spin-off, X-Men three times, Fantastic Four once, Blade three times, Howard the Duck, and even Man-Thing got a movie that never made it to the big screen, despite intentions. Oh, and let's not forget Men In Black (even though it didn't start there, they own it now). Next year, they've got Iron Man ready to be a big-budget film. And there are tons of options out there that have a decent shot of getting made, ranging from Power Man to Captain America to Nick Fury.

Now let's look at DC. As much as I like DC comics and characters, I have loved their movies. Three of the five Superman films were great. Two of the Batman films were fabulous. Constantine is severely underrated, and very entertaining. I'm looking forward to Stardust this summer. Catwoman was...well, let's ignore that one. And...that's it, as far as I recall. My problem with DC is that they haven't really had a good showing in the quantity department. They have such a rich history of characters that to have such a small number of them make it to the movie theatre is truly disappointing? Oh sure, they have ANOTHER Batman film coming out next year. And ANOTHER Superman film in the works, but what else? Wonder Woman might get off the ground, but it's taking forever to come together (though I feel that Joss Whedon would do the character justice), but there is little beyond that. And let us not forget that DC is the subsidiary of a company that makes movies, Time/Warner. Marvel has had to go out of house to get it done. Who knows? Maybe that has been their strength. Maybe because DC has been doing everything in-house, they haven't had the time or budget to get it done. But what a shame. Green Lantern, The Flash, Green Arrow, Captain Marvel, Hawkman...all of these are just waiting for a chance at a movie. And what's sad is that they probably aren't going to make it.

Sadly, that puts Marvel ahead of DC in my mind. They have been willing--not always succesfully--to take the risk on characters and put them on the screen. Who would have thought that there was going to be a Ghost Rider movie? Was there really a demand for that? No, but that didn't stop them from making it. And it might be good. The trailer looks decent, and I know that my wife and I will be there to check it out. And then we'll see Spider-Man. And then Fantastic Four. And that's just this year. The only offering we can expect from DC this year is Stardust, and let's be honest, that's a Neil Gaiman product, not a DC product.

So I put DC on the report. They have something to answer for in my mind, because they have kept things from me that I want to see. And I'm sure that I'm not the only one...

Next time, though, we'll talk about the small screen, and who's done the good job there.

So, anyway, my life ends in four days.

Well, not to say that I'm going to die, but I am going to become life-non-gratis as far as most would see it. That is, in four days Blizzard will release The Burning Crusade for World of Warcraft, and at that point, I will have no life.

Yes, I play WoW. No, my wife isn't a WoW Widow. I really enjoy playing the game, probably unlike I've ever enjoyed any other videogame experience, but not to the extent that I've ever neglected anything or anyone (at least to the best of my knowledge).

But I fear that is about to change.

You see, like many hundreds of thousands of others, I've already purchased my copy of the expansion, which is probably bad enough, but...I keep thinking about it. My thoughts and conversations gravitate towards The Burning Crusade when I'm near others that play WoW. I haunt websites, looking for information and images from the game. I've had visions of Blood Elves dancing in my head. It's scary.

I've never been addicted to a drug or anything else for that matter, but I'm beginning to think that I know how they feel. The craving. The desire. The NEED!!

*ahem*

So, anyway, before my life ends and I no longer have the ability to think or form complete sentences, I just wanted to stop by and say that it was good talking to all of you--for both posts--before I fall off the face of the Earth. Or just suddenly discover that I have no life.

Starting Out

A very dear friend of mine, Cliff Biggers (probably the best friend that I've ever had), has been riding me to create a blog. Why, I'm not entirely sure. I have plenty of opinions and experiences that I share with the world, but I'm very much a face-to-face kind of person. That doesn't mean that I don't like to write, or that I don't share things with people via the internet, it's just that...well, to be honest, I've never seen myself as the blog type.

I'm not condemning those that blog, or saying that they should be spending their time doing better things--after all, we all should be spending our time doing better things--it's just that it's hard for me to imagine that anyone would care what I have to say.

Nonetheless, I've taken my friend's suggestion to heart, and here I am, blogging.

The first thing that I noticed was that it is very easy to get a free blog account. That part is nice. The second thing that I noticed was that I needed to decide what to call my blog, and what it should look like. That's not as nice. I wanted to have something that was relevant to my life for a title, and I wanted a look that matched. Not easily done when you are someone that hates reading white text on black, and find that simple black text on white is kinda boring.

But hey, I got it done...for now. I'll change it probably too often to make sense, but that's my decision.

I'll get more into who I am, and what I do, and all of those things as time progresses, but not now. Leave a little mystery for the five people who don't know me that might possibly read this in one of their few precious moments of free time. It's better that way.

Later.