Day 30 - A picture of someone you miss
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge – Day 29
Day 29 - A picture that can always make you smile
[caption id="attachment_2410" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Our cat is an idiot"]
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Wednesday, December 29, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge – Day 28
Day 28 - A picture of something you're afraid of
[caption id="attachment_2407" align="aligncenter" width="482" caption="I could very easily have re-posted the shark picture from Day 11, but I didn't want to freak out Molly again. So instead I went with my paralyzing fear of heights."]
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Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge – Day 26
Day 26 - A picture of something that means a lot to you
[caption id="attachment_2401" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="These guys"]
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Sunday, December 26, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge – Day 25
Day 25 - A picture of your day
[caption id="attachment_2399" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Rendering..."]
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Saturday, December 25, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 24
Day 24 - A picture of something you wish you could change
[caption id="attachment_2345" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="I totally should have won this game of Raving Rabbids."]
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Friday, December 24, 2010
Cool Cops
This post is a follow-up to my earlier post where I mentioned our car got broken into. I called the police to file a report this afternoon and not long after that I was downstairs in the parking lot, talking with two officers.
They were still in the squad car. I approached the passenger side of the car and said hello to the officers, a man and a woman. He was in the driver's seat and looked like Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite. She was in the passenger seat and looked like Ana-Lucia from Lost. Ana-Lucia was writing down my information and asking me questions as Pedro silently looked on.
She asked about the security cameras, what time we got home last night, what my 40GB iPod looked like, and told me that someone across the street also reported a car break-in today.
All the while, Pedro didn't say a thing.
Finally, we neared the end of the conversation, and Ana-Lucia told me it was pretty slim they would recover my iPod. I told them I understood and then added, "Well, if you catch a bad guy who all of a sudden knows a bunch of Weird Al songs, then you have your guy."
Ana-Lucia smiled and laughed as she wrote down the case info on a card for me. And that's when Pedro finally spoke. He leaned over toward me and said, "That's a lot of polka."
I never laughed out loud at a cop before. It was refreshing.
They were still in the squad car. I approached the passenger side of the car and said hello to the officers, a man and a woman. He was in the driver's seat and looked like Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite. She was in the passenger seat and looked like Ana-Lucia from Lost. Ana-Lucia was writing down my information and asking me questions as Pedro silently looked on.
She asked about the security cameras, what time we got home last night, what my 40GB iPod looked like, and told me that someone across the street also reported a car break-in today.
All the while, Pedro didn't say a thing.
Finally, we neared the end of the conversation, and Ana-Lucia told me it was pretty slim they would recover my iPod. I told them I understood and then added, "Well, if you catch a bad guy who all of a sudden knows a bunch of Weird Al songs, then you have your guy."
Ana-Lucia smiled and laughed as she wrote down the case info on a card for me. And that's when Pedro finally spoke. He leaned over toward me and said, "That's a lot of polka."
I never laughed out loud at a cop before. It was refreshing.
A Crazy 24 Hours
Wow....this last 24 hours has been pretty wild and weird. I guess that's what happens when you finish your Christmas shopping early. I had all of this free time that had to be filled with something...and it was.
Thursday, 9AM
I'm at work and all is well. I cranked out a couple of promos for the radio station and everyone at work was abuzz with the coming Christmas holiday.
Thursday, 9:30AM
I drop to the floor of my office with a sudden, severe pain in my side. I feel like I'm going to be sick so I make my way down the hall to the bathroom. I'm suddenly salivating like crazy and I'm taken back 6-1/2 years when I experienced the amusement park funhouse that is kidney stones. But the last time around, the pain didn't hit me so suddenly and I wonder if perhaps my appendix just exploded.
I don't get sick so I make my way back to my office. Lisa is on the air and I can see by the red light on my phone that Fred is on the line with someone else. I don't know John's phone extension, so I send him this cryptic email:
Subject: sick
can you drive me to the ER?
I consider explaining how much pain I'm in and that it's not some reference to an inside joke we may have shared, but instead hit "Send" and fall back onto the floor, the pain in my stomach making the simple task of standing almost unbearable.
A short time later John is at my office door and in a flash we're in a station vehicle on our way to the emergency room. I explain the pain to John, that it feels like someone is shoving their fingers into my side as hard as they can, and then just leaving them there. John tells me it's OK if I cry. I tell him I'm just confused, as I don't know what the heck is going on. In a weird contrast to my salivating fit in the bathroom just a couple of minutes ago, my mouth has gone completely dry and parched.
Thursday, 9:45AM
We arrive at the ER and I'm trying to be patient with the old lady taking my information. She's obviously hard of hearing and as I repeat my information time and time again, leaning against the desk with my hand at my side, trying to stay on my feet, and muttering my phone number for the third time through clenched teeth, I try to restrain myself from reaching across the desk and snapping her clipboard in half.
Thursday, 10:00AM
I'm taken into a small room where a guy takes my vitals. I give him a brief rundown and then I am returned to the waiting room to wait to be called again. I see a sign that instructs patients not to eat or drink anything which only reminds me that I still have some major cottonmouth going on. John calls Sarah and sends her a text message to let her know I am on an adventure.
Thursday, 10:05AM
I am called again and the nurse asks me if it's OK if we walk back to the examination room. I say "sure" and regret it after walking what feels like 3-1/2 miles through a labyrinthine maze of corridors. I am tempted to just lay down on the ground and ask John to take me by the arm and drag me the rest of the way.
Thursday, 10:15AM
I've been given an IV for the pain and the pain is subsiding. This is definitely much better. John and I exchange small talk and I make stupid jokes with him and the nurses because I use humor as a defense mechanism. If I can make people laugh, then maybe I'm not really dying.
Thursday, 10:20AM
A nurse takes me in for a CAT scan and as I am rolled out of the room I tell John if anything happens to me, he can have my Weird Al albums. I go through the scanner routine and as the door opens a nurse re-enters the room to take me back. I'm not sure if it's just the painkiller or not, but I'm pretty sure the woman who brought me here had blonde hair, and this nurse is a brunette. "You are a different person than the one who brought me here, right?" She laughs and assures me she is, and I'm not hallucinating. Awesome.
Thursday, 10:30AM
A woman comes in to take my insurance information. She asks me my name, social security number, and my insurance info. Then she asks me where I go to church. Wait, Am I going to die?! immediately jumps into my head but I don't say it out loud.
John and I talk about everything and anything that pops into my head.
Thursday, 11:15AM
The doctor comes in and tells me I have two kidney stones. One currently working its way from my kidney to my bladder - which accounts for the pain I felt - and one that is hanging back in my kidney and waiting for an inopportune moment to pass. He tells me he is going to give me two prescriptions: One is for the pain, and one is to help make the stone still in my kidney pass faster. He warns me to take that medicine at night, as people who take it have a tendency to pass out.
The first thing that pops into my head is that I want to take it and have Sarah video tape me. Then I want to run down the hall and see how many steps I can take before I face plant. I mean, why not? How many times do you get the chance to see yourself pass out?
The doctor tells me I can go and as the nurse removes my IV, John and I ask her about the weird patched hole in the wall.
Thursday, 11:30AM
John brings me back to work to get my coat and belongings (don't wanna leave my iPod here!*) and refuses to let me get back to work and record the afternoon newscast to air later that day. Instead he takes me home...but first a stop at Walgreen's to get my prescriptions filled.
*Foreshadowing alert
Thursday, 11:45AM
A fairly uneventful trip to the drugstore, except for the fact we saw a dude who sort of had Larry David hair and was wearing open-toed high-heeled sandals in winter in Pennsylvania. And oh yes, his toenails were painted blue.
Thursday, 12:00PM
Home. On the couch. Popped in a classic Christmas special and fell asleep with visions of the Burgermeister Meisterburger dancing in my head.
Fast-forward a bit...
Thursday, 7:20PM
We arrive at our friend's house for a get-together. I'm feeling better. I haven't needed to take any of the pain medication and everything seems stable. I unplug my iPod from the car radio, pop it into the center console, close it, and we head inside for an evening of fun.
Thursday, 10:15PM
My stomach starts to feel sore again, so I take one of my painkillers.
Friday 12:15AM
We are leaving the party and I have Sarah drive home, as the pain medication has started to hit. My eyelids are heavy, my eyes a bit watery, and I collapse into the passenger seat and am pretty much useless the entire ride home.
Friday 12:30AM
We get home and as Sarah supports me as we make our way into the condo, my pain-medicated brain forgets that I have done a very un-Edlike thing: I left my iPod in the center console in the car.
Friday 12:40AM
I take the before-bed-only medicine and lay down. After about 20 minutes, I whisper to Sarah, "I can feel it hitting me."
Friday 8:10AM
I awake and feel OK. A slight stomach pang, but not 100% sure it's not just because I'm hungry.
Friday 8:40AM
We go downstairs to our car and find the passenger-side window smashed in. Ours is this only car that got hit, which confuses me, as nothing of value was in sight. The center console is opened, as is the glove compartment, and my iPod is gone. Nothing else was taken, but there wasn't much else to take. At least they left the radio. And the car.
Friday 8:45AM
I drive us to work, and can't stop asking myself why. Why us? In a parking lot full of cars, many of them much nicer than ours, why us?
And that's what's been going on these last 24 hours. I spent some time this morning trying to get someone on the phone who's open on Christmas Eve to fix our car, but no such luck.
But hey...let's focus on the positive:
With all of this hullabaloo going on around me, the fact still remains: It's Christmas. No matter what the circumstances, it doesn't change the fact that once upon a time, something really special happened in a manger. A shattered window shouldn't be big enough to shatter my faith. A stolen iPod shouldn't change the song in my heart.
For a little while this morning, I let my circumstances dictate my mood. Fortunately, those circumstances didn't come to stay. They came to pass. If there's something burdening you this holiday season, that will pass, too. It doesn't always feel like it will when you're in the middle of it, I know. But this too shall pass.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
Thursday, 9AM
I'm at work and all is well. I cranked out a couple of promos for the radio station and everyone at work was abuzz with the coming Christmas holiday.
Thursday, 9:30AM
I drop to the floor of my office with a sudden, severe pain in my side. I feel like I'm going to be sick so I make my way down the hall to the bathroom. I'm suddenly salivating like crazy and I'm taken back 6-1/2 years when I experienced the amusement park funhouse that is kidney stones. But the last time around, the pain didn't hit me so suddenly and I wonder if perhaps my appendix just exploded.
I don't get sick so I make my way back to my office. Lisa is on the air and I can see by the red light on my phone that Fred is on the line with someone else. I don't know John's phone extension, so I send him this cryptic email:
Subject: sick
can you drive me to the ER?
I consider explaining how much pain I'm in and that it's not some reference to an inside joke we may have shared, but instead hit "Send" and fall back onto the floor, the pain in my stomach making the simple task of standing almost unbearable.
A short time later John is at my office door and in a flash we're in a station vehicle on our way to the emergency room. I explain the pain to John, that it feels like someone is shoving their fingers into my side as hard as they can, and then just leaving them there. John tells me it's OK if I cry. I tell him I'm just confused, as I don't know what the heck is going on. In a weird contrast to my salivating fit in the bathroom just a couple of minutes ago, my mouth has gone completely dry and parched.
Thursday, 9:45AM
We arrive at the ER and I'm trying to be patient with the old lady taking my information. She's obviously hard of hearing and as I repeat my information time and time again, leaning against the desk with my hand at my side, trying to stay on my feet, and muttering my phone number for the third time through clenched teeth, I try to restrain myself from reaching across the desk and snapping her clipboard in half.
Thursday, 10:00AM
I'm taken into a small room where a guy takes my vitals. I give him a brief rundown and then I am returned to the waiting room to wait to be called again. I see a sign that instructs patients not to eat or drink anything which only reminds me that I still have some major cottonmouth going on. John calls Sarah and sends her a text message to let her know I am on an adventure.
Thursday, 10:05AM
I am called again and the nurse asks me if it's OK if we walk back to the examination room. I say "sure" and regret it after walking what feels like 3-1/2 miles through a labyrinthine maze of corridors. I am tempted to just lay down on the ground and ask John to take me by the arm and drag me the rest of the way.
Thursday, 10:15AM
I've been given an IV for the pain and the pain is subsiding. This is definitely much better. John and I exchange small talk and I make stupid jokes with him and the nurses because I use humor as a defense mechanism. If I can make people laugh, then maybe I'm not really dying.
Thursday, 10:20AM
A nurse takes me in for a CAT scan and as I am rolled out of the room I tell John if anything happens to me, he can have my Weird Al albums. I go through the scanner routine and as the door opens a nurse re-enters the room to take me back. I'm not sure if it's just the painkiller or not, but I'm pretty sure the woman who brought me here had blonde hair, and this nurse is a brunette. "You are a different person than the one who brought me here, right?" She laughs and assures me she is, and I'm not hallucinating. Awesome.
Thursday, 10:30AM
A woman comes in to take my insurance information. She asks me my name, social security number, and my insurance info. Then she asks me where I go to church. Wait, Am I going to die?! immediately jumps into my head but I don't say it out loud.
John and I talk about everything and anything that pops into my head.
Thursday, 11:15AM
The doctor comes in and tells me I have two kidney stones. One currently working its way from my kidney to my bladder - which accounts for the pain I felt - and one that is hanging back in my kidney and waiting for an inopportune moment to pass. He tells me he is going to give me two prescriptions: One is for the pain, and one is to help make the stone still in my kidney pass faster. He warns me to take that medicine at night, as people who take it have a tendency to pass out.
The first thing that pops into my head is that I want to take it and have Sarah video tape me. Then I want to run down the hall and see how many steps I can take before I face plant. I mean, why not? How many times do you get the chance to see yourself pass out?
The doctor tells me I can go and as the nurse removes my IV, John and I ask her about the weird patched hole in the wall.
Thursday, 11:30AM
John brings me back to work to get my coat and belongings (don't wanna leave my iPod here!*) and refuses to let me get back to work and record the afternoon newscast to air later that day. Instead he takes me home...but first a stop at Walgreen's to get my prescriptions filled.
*Foreshadowing alert
Thursday, 11:45AM
A fairly uneventful trip to the drugstore, except for the fact we saw a dude who sort of had Larry David hair and was wearing open-toed high-heeled sandals in winter in Pennsylvania. And oh yes, his toenails were painted blue.
Thursday, 12:00PM
Home. On the couch. Popped in a classic Christmas special and fell asleep with visions of the Burgermeister Meisterburger dancing in my head.
Fast-forward a bit...
Thursday, 7:20PM
We arrive at our friend's house for a get-together. I'm feeling better. I haven't needed to take any of the pain medication and everything seems stable. I unplug my iPod from the car radio, pop it into the center console, close it, and we head inside for an evening of fun.
Thursday, 10:15PM
My stomach starts to feel sore again, so I take one of my painkillers.
Friday 12:15AM
We are leaving the party and I have Sarah drive home, as the pain medication has started to hit. My eyelids are heavy, my eyes a bit watery, and I collapse into the passenger seat and am pretty much useless the entire ride home.
Friday 12:30AM
We get home and as Sarah supports me as we make our way into the condo, my pain-medicated brain forgets that I have done a very un-Edlike thing: I left my iPod in the center console in the car.
Friday 12:40AM
I take the before-bed-only medicine and lay down. After about 20 minutes, I whisper to Sarah, "I can feel it hitting me."
Friday 8:10AM
I awake and feel OK. A slight stomach pang, but not 100% sure it's not just because I'm hungry.
Friday 8:40AM
We go downstairs to our car and find the passenger-side window smashed in. Ours is this only car that got hit, which confuses me, as nothing of value was in sight. The center console is opened, as is the glove compartment, and my iPod is gone. Nothing else was taken, but there wasn't much else to take. At least they left the radio. And the car.
Friday 8:45AM
I drive us to work, and can't stop asking myself why. Why us? In a parking lot full of cars, many of them much nicer than ours, why us?
And that's what's been going on these last 24 hours. I spent some time this morning trying to get someone on the phone who's open on Christmas Eve to fix our car, but no such luck.
But hey...let's focus on the positive:
- It was only kidney stones.
- Its just an iPod and a window. They didn't take the car.
- We aren't traveling anywhere for Christmas, so it's not like we have an 8-hour car ride with the cold wind whipping around us
- I was reminded once again what amazing friends we have. John, who took me to the hospital and stayed with me...Fred, who called a friend and got me in touch with someone who can fix the window on Monday...and Stray, who had some of that car window plastic wrap and went back to his house to get it for us.
With all of this hullabaloo going on around me, the fact still remains: It's Christmas. No matter what the circumstances, it doesn't change the fact that once upon a time, something really special happened in a manger. A shattered window shouldn't be big enough to shatter my faith. A stolen iPod shouldn't change the song in my heart.
For a little while this morning, I let my circumstances dictate my mood. Fortunately, those circumstances didn't come to stay. They came to pass. If there's something burdening you this holiday season, that will pass, too. It doesn't always feel like it will when you're in the middle of it, I know. But this too shall pass.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 23
Day 23 - A picture of your favorite book
[caption id="attachment_2342" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="My favorite book changes from day-to-day, but I thought this one was a pretty good choice. As you can see, I may or may not have read it multiple times."]
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Thursday, December 23, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 22
Day 22 - A picture of something you wish you were better at
[caption id="attachment_2339" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Actually, I don't wish I was better at it per se, but I sometimes wish I'd had the motivation and drive to put in the years and years of work it takes to get a sort-of toe hold in the stand-up world and that just sounds like way too much work and way too much time on the road for someone who's probably funnier on a one-on-one basis with my friends than I ever have been on stage. But at least I recognize my limitations, right?"]
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Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Close, But...
Sarah and I got a Christmas card today. And the people who sent it to us were sooooo close to getting our last name correct.
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 21
Day 21 - A picture of something you wish you could forget
[caption id="attachment_2336" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="For oh so many reasons."]
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Tuesday, December 21, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 20
Day 20 - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel
[caption id="attachment_2333" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="The land down undah"]
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Little Quirks and Where They Came From
I'm one of those people who are easily influenced. When I moved to California back in 1992, I immediately took to the word "Dude" and it hasn't left my vernacular since.
When I was in Georgia for a short time, I picked up the phrase "Good night" from my pal Jack. You use it when something ridiculous happens and it is said as an alternate to "Good grief" or "Oh my gosh."
Recently I stumbled upon an email I had written to my pals JT, Kevin, and Chris back in May of 2006. It was a list of things I had picked up from them while I was living in New York. In my email, I gave examples of seven things I was still using that I absorbed from being around them so much. What's pretty funny is, I still use five of them on a pretty regular basis (those have been italicized):
That's right. I am now footnoting my quirks.
When I was in Georgia for a short time, I picked up the phrase "Good night" from my pal Jack. You use it when something ridiculous happens and it is said as an alternate to "Good grief" or "Oh my gosh."
Recently I stumbled upon an email I had written to my pals JT, Kevin, and Chris back in May of 2006. It was a list of things I had picked up from them while I was living in New York. In my email, I gave examples of seven things I was still using that I absorbed from being around them so much. What's pretty funny is, I still use five of them on a pretty regular basis (those have been italicized):
- "DAAAAAAIIIIIIIIII!"
- "I mean...you know..."
- "What's up, nuts?"
- Whatshisnuts (a fun alternative to "What's-his-face")
- "Aw, geez...." (spoken in a high falsetto)
- "Yessssssss"
- The patented JT Arbogast Clenched Smile While Shaking My Head Back And Forth As I Look At Something Ridiculous
That's right. I am now footnoting my quirks.
Monday, December 20, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 19
Day 19 - A picture and a letter
[caption id="attachment_2330" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="I know this probably isn't what "they" meant, but this note from July 2009 is one of my favorite letters from Sarah ever. Just the way she starts it ("Hi") makes me smile. Even when she's really sick, she's still amazingly sweet."]
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Sleepy Sarah
Last night I got out of bed to get some water. It was late, Sarah was fast asleep, and as I crept back into the bedroom I totally blew my cover with a loud sneeze. Sarah sat up with a start and, still very groggy and half-asleep, said, "What?"
For some reason I decided to goof with her and I answered, "A dog got in here!"
Poor sleepy Sarah had a hard time computing. "A dog?"
I felt bad for giving her a hard time and gave in. "No, I'm just kidding. I sneezed."
Sarah mumbled an "Oh" and then laid back down. I slipped beneath the covers and snuggled next to her. About 15 silent seconds went by and then Sarah woke again.
"What??"
"I didn't say anything, baby." I assured her.
Poor Sarah was utterly confused. "You didn't?"
"Nope." I rubbed her shoulders and she laid back down.
When I asked her about it this morning, she remembered hearing my sneeze but didn't recall anything about the dog.
For some reason I decided to goof with her and I answered, "A dog got in here!"
Poor sleepy Sarah had a hard time computing. "A dog?"
I felt bad for giving her a hard time and gave in. "No, I'm just kidding. I sneezed."
Sarah mumbled an "Oh" and then laid back down. I slipped beneath the covers and snuggled next to her. About 15 silent seconds went by and then Sarah woke again.
"What??"
"I didn't say anything, baby." I assured her.
Poor Sarah was utterly confused. "You didn't?"
"Nope." I rubbed her shoulders and she laid back down.
When I asked her about it this morning, she remembered hearing my sneeze but didn't recall anything about the dog.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Christmas in New York
Last month Sarah got me a really cool birthday present: tickets to see Jim Gaffigan perform at the Best Buy Theater in New York City. Since Sarah's birthday is only a couple of days before mine, we decided to make it a month-late joint birthday celebration and go up for the entire weekend. Sarah had never seen the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Plaza, she had never seen Jim Gaffigan live, I was itching to get back to the National Comedy Theatre and watch a show, and neither of us had seen our pal Adi perform her stand-up live. What a great way to kill 4 birds with one stone. Or at least a couple of turtle doves.
We booked our train and hotel tickets and made yet another trek to our favorite city within a reasonable train-riding distance. We arrived without incident at our hotel and walked down to the comedy theater on 36th street where I knew our reservations were waiting for us. I had contacted my pal Kevin at NCT and let him know we were coming. There was a bit of a mix-up in our pre-NYC conversation. I thought I was letting him know we would be there to watch the show; Kevin thought I was letting him know I would be there to be in the show. As we got to the NCT doors, which hadn't opened yet to the public, we had this entertaining text message exchange:
Shortly after, Kevin came to the front entrance and let us in. As we made our way down to the green room Kevin continued to insist I was playing while I continued to give him reasons why I shouldn't. Not only had I not played for nearly a year and a half, I also wasn't wearing the proper NCT-approved improv attire, which included black track pants and gym shoes.
It wasn't long before I realized my arguments were falling on deaf ears and I knew I would be playing. I was introduced to Stephanie and Zoe who were also in the show that night and Kevin found me a pair of pants and gym shoes I could borrow. Why they had so many spare pairs of pants and shoes - and whose they were - I tried not to think about.
The show went on and I had a blast. Although it had been so long since I did improv in front of a crowd, it felt like no time had passed at all. It was like putting on my favorite sweatshirt. Just right. In fact, if I hadn't mis-identified a Justin Bieber song as Ke$ha, it would have been darn near flawless.
After the show - and lots of hugs and promises that it wouldn't be so long until my next trek to The City - Sarah and I headed down to the West Village to see a night of comedy at the Humor Haus as hosted by another NCT alum, Adi Blotman. My good pal Paul - yet another NCT pal - was our tour guide and we grabbed a bite to eat at Joe's Pizza on the way there. Paulie promised us it was "the best slice in the city" and I'll be darned if Paulie wasn't dead on. He shot some video of us experiencing our first slice of Joe's and I'll post a link to the footage as soon as we get it.
We headed down to Bleecker Street in plenty of time for the 11pm start. Adi did a great job hosting and introducing the other comics she'd hand-picked and we enjoyed ourselves and shared a lot of laughs. Although the room was a small one they all took to the stage like pros and it was a great time.
After the show was over, Paulie led our little group - which now included Adi - to what he promised to be "the best place to get pastries" and again Paulie was right on. Where else but New York City can you experience the world's best cream puffs at 1 in the morning?
Sarah and I were standing on the subway platform waiting to take the A train back up to Penn Station and couldn't believe it was 1:30am. It felt like 8:00pm and it was a refreshing reminder of why we love that city so much.
We got to our hotel room and immediately crashed. It'd been a few years since I was in the city during the winter and had forgotten some of the city's nuances. How could I forget the sound of clanging radiator pipes that heated so many buildings and how, because many buildings are heated by radiator pipes with no individual thermostats for each room, you can sleep in the city in the midst of winter with a window open. Little details I forgot I loved.
We didn't leave the hotel room again until noon the following day. We took to the streets and walked up to 51st to grab a bite at Mars 2112, a space-themed restaurant Sarah had been to when she visited New York with her family a few years ago.
From there we headed to FAO Schwarz, the world-famous toy store neither of us had ever been to. Unfortunately, we decided to make our first visit on the Saturday before Christmas and there was a line to get into the store that wrapped around the entire block. It was quite a daunting line upon first glance, but it moved quickly and we got in some great people watching.
[caption id="attachment_2417" align="aligncenter" width="500"]
A Santa made entirely of Legos inside FAO Schwarz. Why WOULDN'T we get our picture with it?[/caption]
We walked back down to our hotel on 32nd Street to rest for about an hour, and then headed back up to Times Square to see Jim Gaffigan at the Best Buy Theater. Todd Glass was the opener and he was just as good as he's ever been. Poor Jim was suffering from the flu and his voice was nearly gone, but he powered through and put on an amazing show. I'd never seen a show in that venue before, and I liked it a lot.
We headed down to Rockefeller Plaza after the show and somehow managed to make our way through the throng of spectators. We saw the tree, took about 3 photos, and Sarah declared, "OK, I'm over it."
After that, we decided to brave the middle of Times Square to take some more pictures and grab a couple of quick video shots.
On the way back to the hotel, we happened to walk by a comedy club that was advertising dueling pianos. With a what-the-heck shrug we decided to catch the show. The two pianists - and one drummer - served as human jukeboxes as they took requests from the audience and managed to play each one of them masterfully, much to the mostly-drunk crowd's delight. We especially enjoyed the show that wasn't on the marquee: a big guy who looked like Biff from Back to the Future who was getting totally trashed. We watched him throw back bottle after bottle after bottle, wondering why the bartender wasn't cutting off someone who was obviously as drunk as he was. If his forward-leaning barely-balanced walk to the bar wasn't a dead giveaway, I didn't know what was.
Oh wait, I know what the giveaway was. It was when he left the room to go out and throw up not once, but twice, all over the stairs that were the only exit.
I love this city.
We made it back to the hotel, caught a bit of the back end of Saturday Night Live, and then zonked out. We checked out of our room at noon the next day and headed back to Penn Station for the return trip home.
It was a nice weekend; a great weekend. It reminded us both of how much we love the city and also how much we love traveling with each other. We laughed a lot and traded a lot of goofy looks and by the end of our weekend, Sarah was zipping around others on the sidewalk like she'd lived in New York all her life. She made me proud. :)
As our train sped us back home to Lancaster County, I held Sarah's hand while she slept, a goofy smile on my face. This weekend was my best birthday present ever.
We booked our train and hotel tickets and made yet another trek to our favorite city within a reasonable train-riding distance. We arrived without incident at our hotel and walked down to the comedy theater on 36th street where I knew our reservations were waiting for us. I had contacted my pal Kevin at NCT and let him know we were coming. There was a bit of a mix-up in our pre-NYC conversation. I thought I was letting him know we would be there to watch the show; Kevin thought I was letting him know I would be there to be in the show. As we got to the NCT doors, which hadn't opened yet to the public, we had this entertaining text message exchange:
Fri Dec 17 6:45pm. Me to Kevin:
Hey dude. What time are you at the theater tonight? Sarah and I have tix for the early
Fri Dec 17 6:45pm. Kevin to Me:
You are playing the early show dude
Fri Dec 17 6:46pm. Me to Kevin:
Dude you are so mistaken
Fri Dec 17 6:48pm. Kevin to Me:
We saved a spot for you to play and you have to play
Fri Dec 17 6:51pm. Me to Kevin:
Dude I already paid for my ticket
Fri Dec 17 6:51pm. Kevin to Me:
Refund and you are playing
Fri Dec 17 6:53pm. Me to Kevin:
Dude who else is playing? I think most of the gang I knew is gone. Improv + strangers = awkward improv.
Fri Dec 17 6:54pm. Kevin to Me:
Dave and me and Andrew is all you need to know. You are playing.
Shortly after, Kevin came to the front entrance and let us in. As we made our way down to the green room Kevin continued to insist I was playing while I continued to give him reasons why I shouldn't. Not only had I not played for nearly a year and a half, I also wasn't wearing the proper NCT-approved improv attire, which included black track pants and gym shoes.
It wasn't long before I realized my arguments were falling on deaf ears and I knew I would be playing. I was introduced to Stephanie and Zoe who were also in the show that night and Kevin found me a pair of pants and gym shoes I could borrow. Why they had so many spare pairs of pants and shoes - and whose they were - I tried not to think about.
The show went on and I had a blast. Although it had been so long since I did improv in front of a crowd, it felt like no time had passed at all. It was like putting on my favorite sweatshirt. Just right. In fact, if I hadn't mis-identified a Justin Bieber song as Ke$ha, it would have been darn near flawless.
After the show - and lots of hugs and promises that it wouldn't be so long until my next trek to The City - Sarah and I headed down to the West Village to see a night of comedy at the Humor Haus as hosted by another NCT alum, Adi Blotman. My good pal Paul - yet another NCT pal - was our tour guide and we grabbed a bite to eat at Joe's Pizza on the way there. Paulie promised us it was "the best slice in the city" and I'll be darned if Paulie wasn't dead on. He shot some video of us experiencing our first slice of Joe's and I'll post a link to the footage as soon as we get it.
We headed down to Bleecker Street in plenty of time for the 11pm start. Adi did a great job hosting and introducing the other comics she'd hand-picked and we enjoyed ourselves and shared a lot of laughs. Although the room was a small one they all took to the stage like pros and it was a great time.
After the show was over, Paulie led our little group - which now included Adi - to what he promised to be "the best place to get pastries" and again Paulie was right on. Where else but New York City can you experience the world's best cream puffs at 1 in the morning?
Sarah and I were standing on the subway platform waiting to take the A train back up to Penn Station and couldn't believe it was 1:30am. It felt like 8:00pm and it was a refreshing reminder of why we love that city so much.
We got to our hotel room and immediately crashed. It'd been a few years since I was in the city during the winter and had forgotten some of the city's nuances. How could I forget the sound of clanging radiator pipes that heated so many buildings and how, because many buildings are heated by radiator pipes with no individual thermostats for each room, you can sleep in the city in the midst of winter with a window open. Little details I forgot I loved.
We didn't leave the hotel room again until noon the following day. We took to the streets and walked up to 51st to grab a bite at Mars 2112, a space-themed restaurant Sarah had been to when she visited New York with her family a few years ago.
From there we headed to FAO Schwarz, the world-famous toy store neither of us had ever been to. Unfortunately, we decided to make our first visit on the Saturday before Christmas and there was a line to get into the store that wrapped around the entire block. It was quite a daunting line upon first glance, but it moved quickly and we got in some great people watching.
[caption id="attachment_2417" align="aligncenter" width="500"]
A Santa made entirely of Legos inside FAO Schwarz. Why WOULDN'T we get our picture with it?[/caption]We walked back down to our hotel on 32nd Street to rest for about an hour, and then headed back up to Times Square to see Jim Gaffigan at the Best Buy Theater. Todd Glass was the opener and he was just as good as he's ever been. Poor Jim was suffering from the flu and his voice was nearly gone, but he powered through and put on an amazing show. I'd never seen a show in that venue before, and I liked it a lot.
We headed down to Rockefeller Plaza after the show and somehow managed to make our way through the throng of spectators. We saw the tree, took about 3 photos, and Sarah declared, "OK, I'm over it."
After that, we decided to brave the middle of Times Square to take some more pictures and grab a couple of quick video shots.
On the way back to the hotel, we happened to walk by a comedy club that was advertising dueling pianos. With a what-the-heck shrug we decided to catch the show. The two pianists - and one drummer - served as human jukeboxes as they took requests from the audience and managed to play each one of them masterfully, much to the mostly-drunk crowd's delight. We especially enjoyed the show that wasn't on the marquee: a big guy who looked like Biff from Back to the Future who was getting totally trashed. We watched him throw back bottle after bottle after bottle, wondering why the bartender wasn't cutting off someone who was obviously as drunk as he was. If his forward-leaning barely-balanced walk to the bar wasn't a dead giveaway, I didn't know what was.
Oh wait, I know what the giveaway was. It was when he left the room to go out and throw up not once, but twice, all over the stairs that were the only exit.
I love this city.
We made it back to the hotel, caught a bit of the back end of Saturday Night Live, and then zonked out. We checked out of our room at noon the next day and headed back to Penn Station for the return trip home.
It was a nice weekend; a great weekend. It reminded us both of how much we love the city and also how much we love traveling with each other. We laughed a lot and traded a lot of goofy looks and by the end of our weekend, Sarah was zipping around others on the sidewalk like she'd lived in New York all her life. She made me proud. :)
As our train sped us back home to Lancaster County, I held Sarah's hand while she slept, a goofy smile on my face. This weekend was my best birthday present ever.
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 18
Day 18 - A picture of your biggest insecurity
[caption id="attachment_2327" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="I'm not really a very good singer."]
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Saturday, December 18, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 17
Day 17 - A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently
[caption id="attachment_2324" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Our new apartment! You can see our place in this picture: the two windows on the top floor, just left of the main tower, is our bedroom. Woot!"]
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Friday, December 17, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 15
Day 15 - A picture of something you want to do before you die
[caption id="attachment_2315" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="How cool would it be to do voice work on a Pixar film?!"]
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Wednesday, December 15, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 14
Day 14 - A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 13
Day 13 - A picture of your favorite band or artist
[caption id="attachment_2309" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Yeah. I know. Surprise, surprise."]
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Monday, December 13, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 12
Day 12 - A picture of something you love
[caption id="attachment_2306" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Our Tuesday night gathering of friends"]
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Sunday, December 12, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 11
Day 11 - A picture of something you hate
[caption id="attachment_2303" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="So much. So, so, so, so, so, so much."]
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Saturday, December 11, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 10
Day 10 - A picture of the person you do the craziest things with
[caption id="attachment_2300" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Baa. Andy & Sherm. Bruisa the Luck Monkey. An original Seinfeld script. Frisbees to the head. Mostly inside jokes. Sorry about that."]
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Friday, December 10, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 9
Day 09 - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most
[caption id="attachment_2296" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="I broke the rules and went with two people for this one. I had to. It was the darkest time of my life and Davy and Rick reached out to me not only when I needed it most, but HOW I needed it most. They taught me how to be a better friend."]
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Thursday, December 09, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 8
Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh
[caption id="attachment_2293" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="The hard part of this day wasn't what the subject of the picture would be, but which one of the tons of goofy photos of Sarah I would choose. I opted for this shot of Sarah in the Toys R Us in Times Square being attacked by stuffed penguins."]
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Wednesday, December 08, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 7
Day 07 - A picture of your most treasured item
[caption id="attachment_2290" align="aligncenter" width="422" caption="This one was particularly hard because I don't really have any "treasured items." Sure it would stink if my computer broke down, but...yea...I guess I'm not really that close to any of my material possessions. That's a good thing, though, right? That being said, I had to choose something, so I went with this gold record I got for working on a Relient K album. When I received it, I was genuinely pleased."]
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Tuesday, December 07, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 6
Day 06 - A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day
[caption id="attachment_2287" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="And of course, the day we trade places would be Saturday."]
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Monday, December 06, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 5
Day 05 - A picture of your favorite memory
[caption id="attachment_2284" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="One day when Sarah and I were first dating, I forgot to bring my phone with me to work. Sarah got her hands on it and took a series of goofy pictures of herself and left them there for me to find on my own. When I did finally stumble upon them they made me laugh out loud, and I knew she was someone I wanted to be surprised by for a long, long time."]
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Sunday, December 05, 2010
Saturday, December 04, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 3
Day 03 - A picture of the cast from your favorite show
- I'm surprised at how hard it is to find cast photos of SNL. I really wanted to get a shot of all of the cast members together from the 25th anniversary special but...nada. Fortunately I was able to find this cast photo from one of my favorite eras.
Friday, December 03, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 2
Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest
Thursday, December 02, 2010
30 Day Photo Challenge - Day 1
I recently did the "30 Day Photo Challenge" on my Facebook page. It was fun to do, and people seemed to enjoy it, so I decided to re-print the challenge here on El Blog de Ed. If you haven't seen these already, enjoy. And if you have...sorry for the re-runs.
Day 01 - A picture of yourself with five facts
- 1. I won the school spelling bee in the 6th grade. I lost the county bee in the 1st round. I've never used the word "emblem" since. 2. I have no interest in ever visiting Asia. 3. I know every Weird Al song by heart. Yep. All 146 of them. 4. I've never watched a full episode of M*A*S*H. And I don't want to. 5. I married the hot barista at the coffee shop.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
This is NOT Illegal
Nothing screams, "Hey, this might be illegal" more than a banner ad that screams, "This is NOT illegal."
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
And Also With You
I was a little stressed out yesterday morning. If you read my previous blog, then you know why. One thing I've always struggled with is the whole concept of "letting go." I want to let it go, I want to give it over, I want it to not bother me, I don't want it to fester and affect my day or how I treat those around me, but I don't know how to get from Point A to Point B.
That's one thing I admire about Sarah. She just doesn't let things get to her. I don't know how she does it. She just...does it.
I was trying to not let my emotions get the best of me, but Sarah could read on my face I wasn't succeeding. I was walking from one end of the apartment to the other and she intercepted me. She stopped me where I stood and put her hands on either side of my face. Her eyes got really big, she leaned in close to me, and she said in this really weird raspy whisper, "Peace be with you, my son."
I burst into laughter and Sarah giggled and scurried away.
I need to remember that I don't always have to figure out how to get from Point A to Point B on my own. I've got someone with me who knows how to get there and she's more than willing to show me the way.
That's one thing I admire about Sarah. She just doesn't let things get to her. I don't know how she does it. She just...does it.
I was trying to not let my emotions get the best of me, but Sarah could read on my face I wasn't succeeding. I was walking from one end of the apartment to the other and she intercepted me. She stopped me where I stood and put her hands on either side of my face. Her eyes got really big, she leaned in close to me, and she said in this really weird raspy whisper, "Peace be with you, my son."
I burst into laughter and Sarah giggled and scurried away.
I need to remember that I don't always have to figure out how to get from Point A to Point B on my own. I've got someone with me who knows how to get there and she's more than willing to show me the way.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
The Joys of Renting
Sarah and I are in the midst of making plans to move into a new place. When I wrote to our landlords to confirm the amount of our security deposit (they bought the apartment from the previous landlord, whom I'll call Doobie, earlier this year), they responded by telling me Doobie told them there was no security deposit on the place when he sold it to them (he also told prospective buyers our rent was higher than it actually was to try to get people to buy the place during a real estate slump) .
I sent our landlords a copy of the lease I signed when I moved in and in the lease it clearly says how much the security deposit is and that it was paid. I signed it, Doobie signed it - heck, Doobie even wrote it - and the proof we paid a security deposit was right there in black and white.
The landlords then wrote me back to say they talked with Doobie and he basically said, "Um...no...that lease was wrong."
So, instead of taking our word for it and believing the copy of the lease, our landlords have decided that we in fact never paid a security deposit because Doobie said so.
Am I angry? Yep.
I sent our landlords a copy of the lease I signed when I moved in and in the lease it clearly says how much the security deposit is and that it was paid. I signed it, Doobie signed it - heck, Doobie even wrote it - and the proof we paid a security deposit was right there in black and white.
The landlords then wrote me back to say they talked with Doobie and he basically said, "Um...no...that lease was wrong."
So, instead of taking our word for it and believing the copy of the lease, our landlords have decided that we in fact never paid a security deposit because Doobie said so.
Am I angry? Yep.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
On Aaron
Tonight I was going through some old folders on my computer and came across a file named "ON AARON." It was last edited April 13, 2005.
"ON AARON" was a tribute I wrote to/about my pal, the late Aaron Marrs. I don't know exactly why I wrote it. Was I going to post it online? Send it to friends? Or was it just my way of coping with my thoughts and feelings about losing a friend?
It's basically the story of how we met and includes a number of anecdotes I'd forgotten. Anecdotes I thought I would never forget, and I forgot them. I don't remember writing this memoir, but I'm really glad I did.
As far as I know, I've never shared this with anyone or posted it online. It's pretty lengthy, but once you start reminiscing about friends, it's easy to ramble. Here it is, unedited and in its raw state, the file I stumbled across that made me remember how much I miss my friend.
Ed
My friends aren’t supposed to start dying. Not yet at least. I’m 34 years old and the majority of people I hang out with are younger than me so thoughts of those close to me clocking out haven’t even started to cross my mind. After all, you should be at least 50 before you have to start concerning yourself with that kind of deep thinking. Right? Right?
I met Aaron Marrs in the fall of 2001. I was visiting the Nashville area to interview for a job as a promoter at a record label. Aaron was working as the graphic designer and his work is incomparable. He found a way to take the fantastic images he saw in his head and capture them on paper (or in Adobe Illustrator as it were).
Aaron was the kind of guy who immediately made you feel comfortable being around him. He was a hefty guy who loved to laugh and whose blond thinning hair was a frequent cause of grief and anguish. Upon first meeting him many people compared him to Chris Farley and although Aaron enjoyed Farley as a comedian he hated the comparison.
It took me a little time to figure out why this irked Aaron so much. I would have taken it as a compliment. Aaron was deeper than that, though. He wasn’t just the “silly fat guy.” There was so much more inside of Aaron than the over-the-top big-guy character and the fact that he may just be seen as The Funny Guy (which he was, believe me) was a bit frustrating. And at Aaron’s memorial service in January 2004 it all finally came together. I landed the radio promotions job and it didn’t take long for Aaron and I to become close friends. He lived right around the corner from work and was always asking people to come over. He loved being around people. You very rarely saw Aaron alone and if you did he was probably on his way to meet someone else. If you looked up the phrase “people person” in the dictionary, you not only saw a picture of Aaron Marrs but it would also give you his address and directions to the house.
Like most of us, Aaron was multi-faceted. He was a guy who loved to rock and was the lead singer of “Forever Texas,” an indie band that just didn’t care (but really did). He rocked so hard that he tore his ACL during a show not once but twice. That, my friends, is rock and roll.
And at the opposite end of the spectrum was Aaron’s soft side. He was extremely sensitive to others and loved to give of himself. He was generous and open about his vulnerabilities. He had no interest in keeping up any sort of macho charade. If he was hurting he let you know and if you were hurting he wanted to do all he could to take the hurt away. When you came to the table with Aaron he showed you his cards and then did what he could to help you take the pot. Unless, of course, you were literally playing cards. In that case he was shrewd and usually walked away with twice as much as he brought to the table. And in a sense I think we all did.
Aaron and I shared a lot of the same passions. We were both music lovers (although where he would listen to The Darkness for hours on end I tended to lean more toward Sugar Ray) and we both shared a strong passion for film.
It wasn’t long before that passion brought us together to work on a short film that we had co-written called “The Pen.” Our main character was a pen and we followed it from fresh out of the box to finally being discarded after traveling through a variety of hands and situations. Our very opposite methods of shooting probably should have caused some tension or strife but it turned out that his meticulous eye for detail and shot set-ups nicely complemented my rapid point-and-shoot commando style. Wes Anderson meets Robert Rodriguez. It wasn’t until much later that I realized how our pen was a metaphor for Aaron; bobbing and weaving through life and impacting everyone he came in contact with along the way.
Spontaneity was our friend. Aaron was always up for anything. White water rafting tomorrow? Sure! Driving an hour and a half to visit a deserted Bible-themed miniature golf course? Why not? Camping this weekend? Hell yeah. And while you’re at it, let’s not bring any food. We’ll eat off of the land (Fast forward to Sunday morning where we are weak and starving. Needless to say, the fish weren’t biting).
Aaron shouldn’t have been this carefree and fun loving. Life threw a lot of crap at Aaron, definitely more than his fair share, and he would pick the turds out of his teeth and keep on moving, smiling and laughing all the while. After all, this too shall pass, and Aaron knew it would. And after it had passed it would make for a heck of a story to pass on to others.
Aaron would have made a great old guy. His story telling was unmatched and he could bring you in and leave you hanging on his every word all the while taking you on a roller coaster of emotions. Laughing one minute; brows furrowed with concern the next.
And Aaron had some good ones. Did you hear the one about his girlfriend dumping him on the phone while he was in Africa on a missions trip? What about the one where he went to a friend’s house to help her move and walked in on a robbery-at-gunpoint in progress? You know, the one that ended up with Aaron, his friend, and her sister tied up in the closet while the assailants escaped in Aaron’s Range Rover. How about the story of Aaron getting fired from the record label on the day the office closed for Christmas break? [Something else Aaron and I had in common, as I was fired on the first day back from that very holiday vacation.] And despite the fact that he had no backup plan of income he still took that trip to Europe he’d been looking forward to. Where a lot of us might have tried to cash in the plane ticket for money he still decided to hop across the pond and backpack through France and England. I mean come on; we all talk about that being an ideal vacation destination but who really does backpack through Europe? Aaron Marrs does.
Aaron trekked through life seizing the day and it was a conscious effort on his part. Sure, some of that was probably infused into him as his natural makeup, but he spoke on more than one occasion that it was something he was always striving for. Why spend your life behind the 10-foot fence we’ve erected in our back yard protected from our neighbors when there’s a whole world of life out there to experience if we’ll just take the initiative and look around a few corners?
In Europe Aaron gained a new outlook on life. To say it was a life-changing experience would be a severe understatement. He stayed in a small village in France for a couple of days and he loved the fact that everyone walked to the market for their groceries. There was no such thing as Kroger’s, Albertson’s, Ralph’s, or Publix. Just a small, locally owned market where one brand of soap was all you needed.
Aaron returned from Europe disenfranchised with the American way of life and its excesses. Even the fact that Americans produce as much trash as they do did not escape him. He was disgusted with our wastefulness and longed to return to the simplicity of the small French countryside lifestyle. After returning to the States Aaron told me about a dream he had where he stood in a supermarket in the bathroom supplies aisle. As far as he could see up and down the aisle filling the shelves was a countless and endless supply of toothpaste. Every brand imaginable and some brands that he’d never heard of were there, all promising to whiten your teeth and prevent cavities whilst reducing plaque by 99.9 percent. Bright red and blue and yellow boxes stacked to capacity. And Aaron could only stand there amid a thousand choices of dentist-recommended brands and weep. It was just too much.
I asked him what it was about it that upset him so much and I watched as he tried to put his thoughts into words. I knew then that he wouldn’t be able to do it. I wouldn’t be able to understand even if he had been able to express himself. It was at that exact moment that I knew Aaron had undergone a life change and I knew things would be different from that point on.
Aaron Marrs was operating with a new purpose and drive.
Aaron took a trip to California to explore a few job opportunities and through a series of curious events found himself in a cattle call for a new reality program. The basic premise of the show was to take a bunch of regular guys and put them with a ridiculously gorgeous girl. What would happen then? The casting director fell in love with Aaron and she too was taken in by his personality. The smart move would have been to choose Aaron for the show. America would fall in love with this guy and everyone who knew Aaron could attest to that fact. But something about the show and Aaron didn’t fit.
At one point in the interview they revealed to Aaron the premise of the show and asked Aaron his thoughts. Despite his lack of stereotypical Hollywood reality show chiseled features and rock hard abs, Aaron wasn’t comfortable with being referred to as “regular.” Because he wasn’t. He told them that he didn’t see himself as a regular guy, that no one is regular. We all have different aspects that make us incredible and if you wanted to think of him as regular and run-of-the-mill there wasn’t anything he could do to change your perspective but that didn’t mean he agreed with it.
The casting director couldn’t help herself. Although she knew John and Jane Q. Public would eat this guy up she made a confession to Aaron; one she probably shouldn’t be telling him but couldn’t help herself. Aaron just has that effect on people. The show, as you may have guessed, turned out to be “Average Joe”. An interesting premise, I guess, but fairly forgettable as reality shows go. You may recall it being on the air and you may recall the cast of Average Joes as well. Aaron definitely wouldn’t have fit in because people would have liked him. Loved him. And there in her casting office the casting director confessed to Aaron that although he would be great on air, that the camera loved his expressions and personality, she couldn’t do that to Aaron. She couldn’t put him on a throwaway reality show that would present him as just average because Aaron was right. He wasn’t average. She didn’t want a show like this to be Aaron’s introduction to the general public.
Although she promised Aaron she would keep him in mind for other upcoming projects, everyone who’s met with a Hollywood casting director has probably heard the same thing and Aaron left California with another great story to tell. Besides, Aaron’s thirst for life would guarantee to lead him to the next great adventure.
He and some friends journeyed to the Gulf Coast of Florida on a shark fishing expedition and he fell in love with the open water.
In just a matter of weeks Aaron was back in Florida (I was fortunate enough to join him on this venture) with video cameras in tow. He had made a deal with the captain of the Miss Mary, a deep-sea fishing boat for rent. Aaron promised to make the good captain a commercial for the Miss Mary’s fishing excursions. He would bring a crew of friends down to film a day on the open water and hand over a 30-second spot that could be aired on any of the television stations. Aaron would receive a day of deep-sea fishing in exchange (actually two days if you count the day we went out to film) and we also ended up staying at the captain’s beach trailer free of charge as well. Although the captain ended up extremely pleased with the finished commercial product and ended up placing it on TV for a run of a few weeks, I can’t help but think we got the better end of the deal. I still to this day am not one hundred percent sure just how Aaron got that deal finalized, but that was Aaron.
After that second fishing trip, there was little else that Aaron could think about. In his spare time he was online gathering all the information he could about the world of deep-sea fishing. He read books, downloaded countless pictures and video clips, and often had his television tuned to the Discovery Channel and one of its many specials on what was touted as “The Most Dangerous Job in the World.”
Soon the inevitable happened. It gradually went from an interest to a passion to a decision. Aaron was moving to Alaska to enter the harrowing world of deep-sea fishing. He would take a movie camera with him and film a documentary on the people who had chosen to make his newfound interest a way of life. Maybe he was looking for answers. What was it about the water and the ocean that captivated him? Why did he feel drawn to it? Perhaps in asking others what brought them to where they were he would find the answers he sought for himself.
Before leaving Nashville, Aaron gathered his friends at a local pub as a last goodbye hurrah. That was the last time I ever saw Aaron, alive or dead. I asked him to be careful, get some good footage, and come home soon. Of those three requests, only one of them would be heeded.
Aaron and three friends traveled to Alaska to film and they captured just what they had gone looking for. Beautiful scenery, colorful characters, and they were invited aboard the Big Valley crab boat to document the crew along their journey. After spending the summer at sea Aaron’s crew returned to their respective homes and Aaron stayed on a bit longer than originally scheduled. It was too late. The bug had bitten Aaron and there was no going back.
He returned to his hometown of Louisville for a short time and then in January 2004 returned to Alaska. He was returning to the Big Valley but this time there would be no cameras. Aaron would be boarding this time not as a bystander but as one of the crew. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Aaron while he was home but as I understand it he was excited and eager to return to Alaska (even moreso than he was before his first trip out there).
On Saturday night, January 16, I received a call from a mutual friend that Aaron was in trouble. Details were still sketchy and fuzzy but it seemed that the Big Valley, the crab boat that had drawn Aaron back, had gone down during the early hours of the harsh Alaskan winter morning.
What followed was a frenzied relay of e-mails, phone calls, and instant messages between a network of people that Aaron had drawn together. Had anyone heard anything? What was true and what was speculation? They’d already found 2 bodies…was Aaron either of them? Seventy miles away from the closest land mass is no place to be treading water during the month of January in Alaska.
As soon as I got the call, something deep inside of me told me that Aaron was gone. I knew it and I accepted it, even though I didn’t like it.
Others that I spoke to were not so convinced. Perhaps Aaron had on his “survival suit.” Perhaps he’s adrift on a piece of wreckage, cold and wet, but at least out of the water. Or maybe a passing boat had picked him up.
Sure these were all possibilities and it wouldn’t surprise me if any of the above actually came to pass. But I knew it wasn’t so. If Aaron could have chosen the way he had to go, this would have been it. He’d never be able to top this story.
And so it was.
The Big Valley had a crew of six who were on board when the boat capsized, exploded, and sank. Cache Steel, a Big Valley crewman, made it into a lifeboat. Although two other men made it into another life raft Steel was the only survivor. The remaining three fisherman, including Aaron, were never found.
Almost a week later a memorial was held in Louisville for Aaron. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. The service was held in a large church that was Standing Room Only. People couldn’t make enough room to fit everyone in who wanted to pay their respects to a man who had made an impact in their lives similar to what I had experienced. Coming in from as far away as the West Coast, people figured it was the least they could do to honor someone who had so enriched their lives.
And that says a lot about Aaron. A building jammed full of people and Aaron made each of them feel like they were his best friend and vice versa. We all knew Aaron was a great guy that people loved but I don’t know how many of us truly understand the number of lives he touched.
Our love and respect for Aaron wasn’t the only thing we all had in common. To different extents I think we all wanted to be a little bit more like Aaron. He rarely got wrapped up in the toils and troubles of a life of routine and if he did, it didn’t last long. This was a guy who lost his job and still spent the New Year underneath the Eiffel Tower instead of staying home and saving that ticket money like most “sensible” people would suggest you do. This was a guy who tore his ACL during a rock and roll show and just weeks later was clumping around in roller blades in a hockey player’s outfit for Halloween. Aaron didn’t concern himself with social status or fitting in. He loved you regardless. This was a guy deeply in love with God and often times drove himself crazy trying to find God’s will for his life.
I don’t know if Aaron even realized that all the while he was fulfilling that will. He was chasing after God. And sometimes if you work hard all of your life and make an impact on people the way Aaron Marrs did, you get to cut class and come home early. Aaron went home early. Twenty-six years old is pretty early if you ask me. The selfish ones that he left behind (present company included) wanted him to stay. But I’ll be darned if he didn’t inspire me to live life the way he did.
Because let’s face it: We all want to go home early.
4/13/05
"ON AARON" was a tribute I wrote to/about my pal, the late Aaron Marrs. I don't know exactly why I wrote it. Was I going to post it online? Send it to friends? Or was it just my way of coping with my thoughts and feelings about losing a friend?
It's basically the story of how we met and includes a number of anecdotes I'd forgotten. Anecdotes I thought I would never forget, and I forgot them. I don't remember writing this memoir, but I'm really glad I did.
As far as I know, I've never shared this with anyone or posted it online. It's pretty lengthy, but once you start reminiscing about friends, it's easy to ramble. Here it is, unedited and in its raw state, the file I stumbled across that made me remember how much I miss my friend.
Ed
ON AARON
My friends aren’t supposed to start dying. Not yet at least. I’m 34 years old and the majority of people I hang out with are younger than me so thoughts of those close to me clocking out haven’t even started to cross my mind. After all, you should be at least 50 before you have to start concerning yourself with that kind of deep thinking. Right? Right?
I met Aaron Marrs in the fall of 2001. I was visiting the Nashville area to interview for a job as a promoter at a record label. Aaron was working as the graphic designer and his work is incomparable. He found a way to take the fantastic images he saw in his head and capture them on paper (or in Adobe Illustrator as it were).
Aaron was the kind of guy who immediately made you feel comfortable being around him. He was a hefty guy who loved to laugh and whose blond thinning hair was a frequent cause of grief and anguish. Upon first meeting him many people compared him to Chris Farley and although Aaron enjoyed Farley as a comedian he hated the comparison.
It took me a little time to figure out why this irked Aaron so much. I would have taken it as a compliment. Aaron was deeper than that, though. He wasn’t just the “silly fat guy.” There was so much more inside of Aaron than the over-the-top big-guy character and the fact that he may just be seen as The Funny Guy (which he was, believe me) was a bit frustrating. And at Aaron’s memorial service in January 2004 it all finally came together. I landed the radio promotions job and it didn’t take long for Aaron and I to become close friends. He lived right around the corner from work and was always asking people to come over. He loved being around people. You very rarely saw Aaron alone and if you did he was probably on his way to meet someone else. If you looked up the phrase “people person” in the dictionary, you not only saw a picture of Aaron Marrs but it would also give you his address and directions to the house.
Like most of us, Aaron was multi-faceted. He was a guy who loved to rock and was the lead singer of “Forever Texas,” an indie band that just didn’t care (but really did). He rocked so hard that he tore his ACL during a show not once but twice. That, my friends, is rock and roll.
And at the opposite end of the spectrum was Aaron’s soft side. He was extremely sensitive to others and loved to give of himself. He was generous and open about his vulnerabilities. He had no interest in keeping up any sort of macho charade. If he was hurting he let you know and if you were hurting he wanted to do all he could to take the hurt away. When you came to the table with Aaron he showed you his cards and then did what he could to help you take the pot. Unless, of course, you were literally playing cards. In that case he was shrewd and usually walked away with twice as much as he brought to the table. And in a sense I think we all did.
Aaron and I shared a lot of the same passions. We were both music lovers (although where he would listen to The Darkness for hours on end I tended to lean more toward Sugar Ray) and we both shared a strong passion for film.
It wasn’t long before that passion brought us together to work on a short film that we had co-written called “The Pen.” Our main character was a pen and we followed it from fresh out of the box to finally being discarded after traveling through a variety of hands and situations. Our very opposite methods of shooting probably should have caused some tension or strife but it turned out that his meticulous eye for detail and shot set-ups nicely complemented my rapid point-and-shoot commando style. Wes Anderson meets Robert Rodriguez. It wasn’t until much later that I realized how our pen was a metaphor for Aaron; bobbing and weaving through life and impacting everyone he came in contact with along the way.
Spontaneity was our friend. Aaron was always up for anything. White water rafting tomorrow? Sure! Driving an hour and a half to visit a deserted Bible-themed miniature golf course? Why not? Camping this weekend? Hell yeah. And while you’re at it, let’s not bring any food. We’ll eat off of the land (Fast forward to Sunday morning where we are weak and starving. Needless to say, the fish weren’t biting).
Aaron shouldn’t have been this carefree and fun loving. Life threw a lot of crap at Aaron, definitely more than his fair share, and he would pick the turds out of his teeth and keep on moving, smiling and laughing all the while. After all, this too shall pass, and Aaron knew it would. And after it had passed it would make for a heck of a story to pass on to others.
Aaron would have made a great old guy. His story telling was unmatched and he could bring you in and leave you hanging on his every word all the while taking you on a roller coaster of emotions. Laughing one minute; brows furrowed with concern the next.
And Aaron had some good ones. Did you hear the one about his girlfriend dumping him on the phone while he was in Africa on a missions trip? What about the one where he went to a friend’s house to help her move and walked in on a robbery-at-gunpoint in progress? You know, the one that ended up with Aaron, his friend, and her sister tied up in the closet while the assailants escaped in Aaron’s Range Rover. How about the story of Aaron getting fired from the record label on the day the office closed for Christmas break? [Something else Aaron and I had in common, as I was fired on the first day back from that very holiday vacation.] And despite the fact that he had no backup plan of income he still took that trip to Europe he’d been looking forward to. Where a lot of us might have tried to cash in the plane ticket for money he still decided to hop across the pond and backpack through France and England. I mean come on; we all talk about that being an ideal vacation destination but who really does backpack through Europe? Aaron Marrs does.
Aaron trekked through life seizing the day and it was a conscious effort on his part. Sure, some of that was probably infused into him as his natural makeup, but he spoke on more than one occasion that it was something he was always striving for. Why spend your life behind the 10-foot fence we’ve erected in our back yard protected from our neighbors when there’s a whole world of life out there to experience if we’ll just take the initiative and look around a few corners?
In Europe Aaron gained a new outlook on life. To say it was a life-changing experience would be a severe understatement. He stayed in a small village in France for a couple of days and he loved the fact that everyone walked to the market for their groceries. There was no such thing as Kroger’s, Albertson’s, Ralph’s, or Publix. Just a small, locally owned market where one brand of soap was all you needed.
Aaron returned from Europe disenfranchised with the American way of life and its excesses. Even the fact that Americans produce as much trash as they do did not escape him. He was disgusted with our wastefulness and longed to return to the simplicity of the small French countryside lifestyle. After returning to the States Aaron told me about a dream he had where he stood in a supermarket in the bathroom supplies aisle. As far as he could see up and down the aisle filling the shelves was a countless and endless supply of toothpaste. Every brand imaginable and some brands that he’d never heard of were there, all promising to whiten your teeth and prevent cavities whilst reducing plaque by 99.9 percent. Bright red and blue and yellow boxes stacked to capacity. And Aaron could only stand there amid a thousand choices of dentist-recommended brands and weep. It was just too much.
I asked him what it was about it that upset him so much and I watched as he tried to put his thoughts into words. I knew then that he wouldn’t be able to do it. I wouldn’t be able to understand even if he had been able to express himself. It was at that exact moment that I knew Aaron had undergone a life change and I knew things would be different from that point on.
Aaron Marrs was operating with a new purpose and drive.
Aaron took a trip to California to explore a few job opportunities and through a series of curious events found himself in a cattle call for a new reality program. The basic premise of the show was to take a bunch of regular guys and put them with a ridiculously gorgeous girl. What would happen then? The casting director fell in love with Aaron and she too was taken in by his personality. The smart move would have been to choose Aaron for the show. America would fall in love with this guy and everyone who knew Aaron could attest to that fact. But something about the show and Aaron didn’t fit.
At one point in the interview they revealed to Aaron the premise of the show and asked Aaron his thoughts. Despite his lack of stereotypical Hollywood reality show chiseled features and rock hard abs, Aaron wasn’t comfortable with being referred to as “regular.” Because he wasn’t. He told them that he didn’t see himself as a regular guy, that no one is regular. We all have different aspects that make us incredible and if you wanted to think of him as regular and run-of-the-mill there wasn’t anything he could do to change your perspective but that didn’t mean he agreed with it.
The casting director couldn’t help herself. Although she knew John and Jane Q. Public would eat this guy up she made a confession to Aaron; one she probably shouldn’t be telling him but couldn’t help herself. Aaron just has that effect on people. The show, as you may have guessed, turned out to be “Average Joe”. An interesting premise, I guess, but fairly forgettable as reality shows go. You may recall it being on the air and you may recall the cast of Average Joes as well. Aaron definitely wouldn’t have fit in because people would have liked him. Loved him. And there in her casting office the casting director confessed to Aaron that although he would be great on air, that the camera loved his expressions and personality, she couldn’t do that to Aaron. She couldn’t put him on a throwaway reality show that would present him as just average because Aaron was right. He wasn’t average. She didn’t want a show like this to be Aaron’s introduction to the general public.
Although she promised Aaron she would keep him in mind for other upcoming projects, everyone who’s met with a Hollywood casting director has probably heard the same thing and Aaron left California with another great story to tell. Besides, Aaron’s thirst for life would guarantee to lead him to the next great adventure.
He and some friends journeyed to the Gulf Coast of Florida on a shark fishing expedition and he fell in love with the open water.
In just a matter of weeks Aaron was back in Florida (I was fortunate enough to join him on this venture) with video cameras in tow. He had made a deal with the captain of the Miss Mary, a deep-sea fishing boat for rent. Aaron promised to make the good captain a commercial for the Miss Mary’s fishing excursions. He would bring a crew of friends down to film a day on the open water and hand over a 30-second spot that could be aired on any of the television stations. Aaron would receive a day of deep-sea fishing in exchange (actually two days if you count the day we went out to film) and we also ended up staying at the captain’s beach trailer free of charge as well. Although the captain ended up extremely pleased with the finished commercial product and ended up placing it on TV for a run of a few weeks, I can’t help but think we got the better end of the deal. I still to this day am not one hundred percent sure just how Aaron got that deal finalized, but that was Aaron.
After that second fishing trip, there was little else that Aaron could think about. In his spare time he was online gathering all the information he could about the world of deep-sea fishing. He read books, downloaded countless pictures and video clips, and often had his television tuned to the Discovery Channel and one of its many specials on what was touted as “The Most Dangerous Job in the World.”
Soon the inevitable happened. It gradually went from an interest to a passion to a decision. Aaron was moving to Alaska to enter the harrowing world of deep-sea fishing. He would take a movie camera with him and film a documentary on the people who had chosen to make his newfound interest a way of life. Maybe he was looking for answers. What was it about the water and the ocean that captivated him? Why did he feel drawn to it? Perhaps in asking others what brought them to where they were he would find the answers he sought for himself.
Before leaving Nashville, Aaron gathered his friends at a local pub as a last goodbye hurrah. That was the last time I ever saw Aaron, alive or dead. I asked him to be careful, get some good footage, and come home soon. Of those three requests, only one of them would be heeded.
Aaron and three friends traveled to Alaska to film and they captured just what they had gone looking for. Beautiful scenery, colorful characters, and they were invited aboard the Big Valley crab boat to document the crew along their journey. After spending the summer at sea Aaron’s crew returned to their respective homes and Aaron stayed on a bit longer than originally scheduled. It was too late. The bug had bitten Aaron and there was no going back.
He returned to his hometown of Louisville for a short time and then in January 2004 returned to Alaska. He was returning to the Big Valley but this time there would be no cameras. Aaron would be boarding this time not as a bystander but as one of the crew. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Aaron while he was home but as I understand it he was excited and eager to return to Alaska (even moreso than he was before his first trip out there).
On Saturday night, January 16, I received a call from a mutual friend that Aaron was in trouble. Details were still sketchy and fuzzy but it seemed that the Big Valley, the crab boat that had drawn Aaron back, had gone down during the early hours of the harsh Alaskan winter morning.
What followed was a frenzied relay of e-mails, phone calls, and instant messages between a network of people that Aaron had drawn together. Had anyone heard anything? What was true and what was speculation? They’d already found 2 bodies…was Aaron either of them? Seventy miles away from the closest land mass is no place to be treading water during the month of January in Alaska.
As soon as I got the call, something deep inside of me told me that Aaron was gone. I knew it and I accepted it, even though I didn’t like it.
Others that I spoke to were not so convinced. Perhaps Aaron had on his “survival suit.” Perhaps he’s adrift on a piece of wreckage, cold and wet, but at least out of the water. Or maybe a passing boat had picked him up.
Sure these were all possibilities and it wouldn’t surprise me if any of the above actually came to pass. But I knew it wasn’t so. If Aaron could have chosen the way he had to go, this would have been it. He’d never be able to top this story.
And so it was.
The Big Valley had a crew of six who were on board when the boat capsized, exploded, and sank. Cache Steel, a Big Valley crewman, made it into a lifeboat. Although two other men made it into another life raft Steel was the only survivor. The remaining three fisherman, including Aaron, were never found.
Almost a week later a memorial was held in Louisville for Aaron. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. The service was held in a large church that was Standing Room Only. People couldn’t make enough room to fit everyone in who wanted to pay their respects to a man who had made an impact in their lives similar to what I had experienced. Coming in from as far away as the West Coast, people figured it was the least they could do to honor someone who had so enriched their lives.
And that says a lot about Aaron. A building jammed full of people and Aaron made each of them feel like they were his best friend and vice versa. We all knew Aaron was a great guy that people loved but I don’t know how many of us truly understand the number of lives he touched.
Our love and respect for Aaron wasn’t the only thing we all had in common. To different extents I think we all wanted to be a little bit more like Aaron. He rarely got wrapped up in the toils and troubles of a life of routine and if he did, it didn’t last long. This was a guy who lost his job and still spent the New Year underneath the Eiffel Tower instead of staying home and saving that ticket money like most “sensible” people would suggest you do. This was a guy who tore his ACL during a rock and roll show and just weeks later was clumping around in roller blades in a hockey player’s outfit for Halloween. Aaron didn’t concern himself with social status or fitting in. He loved you regardless. This was a guy deeply in love with God and often times drove himself crazy trying to find God’s will for his life.
I don’t know if Aaron even realized that all the while he was fulfilling that will. He was chasing after God. And sometimes if you work hard all of your life and make an impact on people the way Aaron Marrs did, you get to cut class and come home early. Aaron went home early. Twenty-six years old is pretty early if you ask me. The selfish ones that he left behind (present company included) wanted him to stay. But I’ll be darned if he didn’t inspire me to live life the way he did.
Because let’s face it: We all want to go home early.
4/13/05
Saturday, October 09, 2010
Hair-waii Five-O
I'm a big fan of Arrested Development
. It's one of the best-written comedies I've seen. One of the characters, Lindsay Bluth, was known for her crazy, wacky hair styles.
The new drama Hawaii Five-O
is, as far as I can tell, not a comedy. So then why would they give the exact same hairstyle to one of the main characters? One of the male main characters?
Well done, CBS. Your new comedy, Hawaii Five-O is hilarious.
. It's one of the best-written comedies I've seen. One of the characters, Lindsay Bluth, was known for her crazy, wacky hair styles.The new drama Hawaii Five-O
is, as far as I can tell, not a comedy. So then why would they give the exact same hairstyle to one of the main characters? One of the male main characters?Well done, CBS. Your new comedy, Hawaii Five-O is hilarious.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
300 Is A Long Time
Last weekend the church we attend celebrated it's 300th anniversary. 300 years. That's a long time. That's older than our country. Heck, it's 22 years older then George Washington, and that dude has been dead forever.
To celebrate, the church held a big shindig and invited the whole community. There was free food all day, free games for the kids, and free entertainment like jugglers, ventriloquists, and rock bands. We even invited other youth leaders from area churches to take part in a bullriding competition.
I was there with my video camera to capture the activities and put together this little re-cap. Happy 300, Willow Street Mennonite!
To celebrate, the church held a big shindig and invited the whole community. There was free food all day, free games for the kids, and free entertainment like jugglers, ventriloquists, and rock bands. We even invited other youth leaders from area churches to take part in a bullriding competition.
I was there with my video camera to capture the activities and put together this little re-cap. Happy 300, Willow Street Mennonite!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Kids Music and Me
I've been editing and putting together goofy little videos since I was around 15 years old. Unlike today, personal computers weren't something every household had and high schools weren't even close to offering video editing courses. iMovie and Windows Movie Maker weren't even on my radar and I was editing movies by hooking up my video camera to my VCR and pressing "Pause" and "Record" at the right place. It took forever and the video distortion lines that would pop up every time I paused the VCR were annoying to say the least. I wasn't able to stop and check how it was coming along for fear I lose my exact place and end up with a couple of frames of black and white "snow" in between shots, so when I put my early videos together, it was done with a "Wow I hope this is turning out OK" prayer repeatedly running through my head.
In 2003 I bought my first video editing software for my computer and decided to teach myself how to edit digitally. I was living in Nashville and had plenty of time on my hands. The very first thing I edited on the computer was a music video. I wasn't looking to do anything epic, just something really basic and somewhat short to jump in with. The shortest song I could find was on an old Sesame Street CD and the final thing came out looking like this:
In 2003 I bought my first video editing software for my computer and decided to teach myself how to edit digitally. I was living in Nashville and had plenty of time on my hands. The very first thing I edited on the computer was a music video. I wasn't looking to do anything epic, just something really basic and somewhat short to jump in with. The shortest song I could find was on an old Sesame Street CD and the final thing came out looking like this:
For my first stab at it, I still think it turned out OK. It's goofy and dorky and ridiculous so I guess it fits me pretty well.
Since then, between videos I've done for work and stuff I've fiddled around with on my own, I've put together just about 700 videos. Zoinks. I didn't realize that number was so high until just now.Granted, some of them don't really involve a lot of editing but hey, 700 is 700.
The latest video I worked on was one for ukulele singer/songwriter Phredd. The whole text-only video thing is pretty big right now, and we've never shied away from a trend. His song "Text the Cell" was perfect for this style.
It was fun putting it together. A lot more went into it than one might think, but I love the simplicity of it and I'm really happy with how it turned out.
I started my video-editing adventures with a kids song...and 700 videos later it's still something I enjoy going back to.
But that doesn't mean if I saw The Wiggles on the side of the highway I wouldn't swerve to avoid them. I mean, come on.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Swimming to Fly
The other day we were at Universal Studios' City Walk and we came across the iFLY Hollywood Indoor Skydiving/Vertical Wind Tunnel thing. It's basically skydiving without the billion-foot fall.
I'm not usually the kind of person to post Oh-Look-At-This-Kid-Aren't-They-Cute kinda posts, but I filmed this one little girl trying to master the wind and all I can say is, Oh look at this kid. Isn't she cute?
I'm not usually the kind of person to post Oh-Look-At-This-Kid-Aren't-They-Cute kinda posts, but I filmed this one little girl trying to master the wind and all I can say is, Oh look at this kid. Isn't she cute?
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Bad Cop
Today while we were driving on the 405, we were laughing at a cop in the Carpool Lane who didn't have any passengers in his vehicle. Sarah said it best:
"If you hate obeying the law, the best thing for you to do is to just be a cop."
"If you hate obeying the law, the best thing for you to do is to just be a cop."
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
I'm MAD Sick, Yo
Very funny, Sarah. I just found this picture on our camera, which I had no idea was taken. The timestamp tells me it was taken last Friday night, one day into my battle against being sick. This photo is proof that no amount of MAD Magazine cartoon history can stand up to the power of NyQuil.
Friday, September 03, 2010
No Parking
They have a bunch of parking spaces at the Lancaster YMCA reserved for "Senior Members and Expecting Mothers" but I think that's a pile of crap.
A MAD Surprise
I said it yesterday:
"I think I'm getting a sore throat."
And it turns out, I was. And did.
After a night tossing and turning, my throat exploding into a fireburst every time I tried to swallow, I wasn't looking forward to crawling out of bed and trying to function like a human being today.
When I got to the station, Fred was waiting for me in the studio, a suspicious smile on his face. "Hey Eddie, I think someone left a present for you in your offiiiiice!"
I walked back and found this sitting on my desk:
That's right. It's the massive two-volume set MAD's Greatest Artists: The Completely Mad Don Martin!!
My stupid throat decided it was going to make me have a bad day, but Fred stepped up and said, "Oh no you're not!"
Thanks, Fred! I may not be feeling 100%, but at least now I can distract myself with an almost-endless series of THWOPs, GLONGs, SKROINCHes, and STOOPFTs!
"I think I'm getting a sore throat."
And it turns out, I was. And did.
After a night tossing and turning, my throat exploding into a fireburst every time I tried to swallow, I wasn't looking forward to crawling out of bed and trying to function like a human being today.
When I got to the station, Fred was waiting for me in the studio, a suspicious smile on his face. "Hey Eddie, I think someone left a present for you in your offiiiiice!"
I walked back and found this sitting on my desk:
That's right. It's the massive two-volume set MAD's Greatest Artists: The Completely Mad Don Martin!!
My stupid throat decided it was going to make me have a bad day, but Fred stepped up and said, "Oh no you're not!"
Thanks, Fred! I may not be feeling 100%, but at least now I can distract myself with an almost-endless series of THWOPs, GLONGs, SKROINCHes, and STOOPFTs!
Friday, August 27, 2010
The Bird of Happiness
As much as I enjoy living in the city, I've noticed that Friday is a horrible day for driving downtown. It's like everyone says, "Screw it, it's the end of the week, I'm tired of driving sensibly." And it's the same thing every Friday: I get cut off by more people, almost rammed from behind or sideswiped by someone who decides to merge from the lane beside me while I'm right next to them. Some Fridays people will just stop in the middle of the road for no reason or perform elaborate U-turns on one-way streets.
Today proved to be no different from every other Friday. I was waiting at a stoplight and the light turned green. We all began to move and a car on the cross street, who had stopped at the red light, decided pull out in front of me when I was 3/4 of the way through the intersection.
I honked my horn to give him a heads up. It wasn't a HOOOOOONK or even a HONK, just a quick tap on the horn to let him know I was there.
The speed that his hand was out the window, straight up in the air, and middle finger extended was impressive. It was almost like we was waiting for me to honk, that's how fast it was. He either assumed pulling in front of me would elicit a honk and was ready to go, or he had been driving so badly all afternoon that he was getting honked at over and over again and just decided to have his hand waiting by the window.
It was so fast, I could do nothing but start laughing hysterically at the man. It was just incredibly crazy how fast this guy flipped me off for honking at him when he almost clipped my car. And I laughed and laughed and laughed.
This made him angry, but I didn't care. He was too funny to not laugh at. And when I saw how mad he got when I laughed at him, he threw a fit in his car. If that's not a great way to start off the weekend, I don't know what is.
Today proved to be no different from every other Friday. I was waiting at a stoplight and the light turned green. We all began to move and a car on the cross street, who had stopped at the red light, decided pull out in front of me when I was 3/4 of the way through the intersection.
I honked my horn to give him a heads up. It wasn't a HOOOOOONK or even a HONK, just a quick tap on the horn to let him know I was there.
The speed that his hand was out the window, straight up in the air, and middle finger extended was impressive. It was almost like we was waiting for me to honk, that's how fast it was. He either assumed pulling in front of me would elicit a honk and was ready to go, or he had been driving so badly all afternoon that he was getting honked at over and over again and just decided to have his hand waiting by the window.
It was so fast, I could do nothing but start laughing hysterically at the man. It was just incredibly crazy how fast this guy flipped me off for honking at him when he almost clipped my car. And I laughed and laughed and laughed.
This made him angry, but I didn't care. He was too funny to not laugh at. And when I saw how mad he got when I laughed at him, he threw a fit in his car. If that's not a great way to start off the weekend, I don't know what is.
Clues Without A Mystery
I was the first one at the office this morning which always makes me a little nervous. The first one in has to deactivate the alarm system and it's notorious for not being very generous and letting you "CLEAR" and "RESET" if you accidentally hit the wrong number.
Upon opening the door, though, I found the alarm wasn't on.
Upon opening the door, though, I found the alarm wasn't on.
As I entered the building, I kept an eye out to make sure no one was inside to startle me. I went into the kitchen to put my soda and yogurt in the fridge and was a little taken back by the coffee pot.
OK, I can understand someone forgetting to turn on the alarm when they leave, but what was going on with this? Did someone make coffee and then forget to put the pot back on the burner? Is that even possible? Or...well...to be honest, I can't think of another reason to explain this weird phenomenon.
I did a quick walkthrough of the studio and my office and couldn't find anything else out of place. Freaky Friday, indeed.
Monday, August 23, 2010
A Request For Fat People
Today I was walking downtown and was approached by two fat girls coming in the opposite direction. They were walking side-by-side and as someone who has a pretty well-developed sense of size, I knew there was no way all three of us were going to fit on the sidewalk at the same time.
And this brings me to my request: If you're not going to go single-file for three or four steps while I try to squeeze past, can you at least not give me a dirty look like I'm the one in the way?
Thanks, fat people. Thanks.
[caption id="attachment_2096" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="This is pretty much what I saw coming at me today on the sidewalk"]
[/caption]
And this brings me to my request: If you're not going to go single-file for three or four steps while I try to squeeze past, can you at least not give me a dirty look like I'm the one in the way?
Thanks, fat people. Thanks.
[caption id="attachment_2096" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="This is pretty much what I saw coming at me today on the sidewalk"]
[/caption]An Extra Distraction
How do you know you're a real fan of Judge Judy? How do you know when perhaps you've seen one too many episodes?
When you start to recognize the fact they're using the same people in the audience over and over again, that's when. Don't be too impressed. I'm not actually that good with picking up small details like noticing the extras in a daily courtroom TV show.
But when one of the extras stands out like this one, you can't help.
There she is in the upper left-hand corner. She just has a look that stands out. The harsh make-up. The angry eyebrows. That distinct Is-That-A-Dude-In-Drag uncertainty. That's not an easy look to forget.
Especially when he/she pops up again....
...and again...
...and again...
...and again.
Hey, Judge Judy producers: I think it might be time to do another casting call for extras. When it becomes more fun playing Where's The Angry Guy In A Wig than watching Judge Judy yell at people, that's sort of a sign.
When you start to recognize the fact they're using the same people in the audience over and over again, that's when. Don't be too impressed. I'm not actually that good with picking up small details like noticing the extras in a daily courtroom TV show.
But when one of the extras stands out like this one, you can't help.
There she is in the upper left-hand corner. She just has a look that stands out. The harsh make-up. The angry eyebrows. That distinct Is-That-A-Dude-In-Drag uncertainty. That's not an easy look to forget.Especially when he/she pops up again....
...and again...
...and again...
...and again.
Hey, Judge Judy producers: I think it might be time to do another casting call for extras. When it becomes more fun playing Where's The Angry Guy In A Wig than watching Judge Judy yell at people, that's sort of a sign.
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