Quotes of the Day

As many of you know, I always carry a little notebook in my back pocket to jot down any moments of comedic clarity that might run through my brain throughout the course of the day. Some time ago I also started keeping track of "quotes of the day," odd, random, or just funny statements uttered by whomever I happened to be with at the time.

I'm at work right now, but while I wait for the DVD I'm working on to finish burning I thought I would share some of those quotes with you. Enjoy!

"Give me back my baby!!" - screamed by a random woman on the streets of Garrett, Indiana

"This stupid thing. I'm gonna burn it. (pause) Will this burn?" - my brother Ray mad at his tape measure

"Tootsies don't pop. They only chew." - Sarah explaining why she prefers Blow Pops to Tootsie Pops

"I couldn't hear you. Sarah was talking to the fruit flies." - Stacy, during a game of poker

"I think of meat and milk a lot." - Kristi, on the way to the Creation Festival

"I'm not cool because I don't have an iPod."
"Then go buy one so you can buy your coolness." - Mindy and Kristi, in the car on the way to Creation

"I didn't think people snored like cartoons but turns out they do." - Sarah complaining about a loud neighboring camper at the Creation festival

"Man, I haven't blinked in a while." - Sarah, playing Bejeweled on the computer

"I never knew what a work ethic was. Neither of my parents worked." - Sarah on a Sunday afternoon

"I don't have a grudge against him because he sucks at his job. I have a grudge against him because he sucks as a person." - Kate, amid frustration

"You can if you're a genius, a super computer, or two albinos with a camera." - Fred, after being asked if you can upload videos to the Monsterpod website

"I didn't think you would eat it."
"It's a brownie, man." - Me and Ken at Outback Steakhouse

"I was going to say 'Look at the moon behind you' but it was a light bulb." - Sarah outside IHOP

"Actually, I played with eggs more than I did with dolls." - Sarah, walking past a store where everything is made of eggs

"I can tell by your writing you're sick." - Sarah, to me when I was ill

"What'cha not writing?"
"My name." - me and Ashlea, in an i-tickets meeting at work

I Gots Ta Get To Readin'

In January I made a vow to myself to read more books this year than I did the previous year. I'm almost done with book number 19. Last year I read twenty-seven. Granted, a lot of that reading was while I was on the subway in New York and it's a bit more difficult to read while in transit now since I am the one doing the driving. (Just a bit, though.)

It doesn't look like I'll be able to do it, but I'm not taking this lying down (unless I'm reading, then I'll probably be lying down. You know what I mean. Shut up).

Tricked into Fun

If you want to get me to show up somewhere, then tell me there will be Guitar Hero and/or Karaoke Revolution. My buddies at work knew me well enough to use this to lure me right into a surprise wedding shower for Sarah and me. And it was great!

Every few weeks or so, I'll bring my PlayStation2 with me to work and a few of us will stay after hours to play Guitar Hero and Karaoke Revolution. It's always a lot of fun and usually around midnight we realize how long we've been there and pack up and head home.

A little over a month ago we planned our first post-Ed's-wedding Game Night. We were excited that Sarah would be able to join us and Wednesday I left work at 5:00 to pick up Sarah and the PS2. We got back to the station and walked upstairs and there stood the entire station staff. I'd only been gone about 20 minutes and in that short time the room was decked out with balloons, streamers, cake, presents, and food from Boston Market. They yelled "SURPRISE!" as we walked in and I called them all "jerks." They totally got me and I never suspected a thing!

It was a great time and it made Sarah and me feel all warm and gooey inside. It was like being home again, only this time Sarah was with me.

Halfway through the dinner, Sarah leaned over to me and whispered, "Do you think we'll still get to play Guitar Hero?"

Of course we would.

We opened presents and laughed and were reminded again of what great friends we have here. Soon people started to leave and others started to get antsy: they were ready for Guitar Hero, too. After some mingling and catching up, we were down to our core group of gamers and the festivities continued.

All in all, it was a great night.

I've worked in places before where they claim to have a "family" atmosphere or profess to be more of a family than a workplace, but here at WJTL it's actually true.

A Little Better, but Just as Stupid

This morning I got up and couldn't feel my stomach. Meaning, it was upset all day yesterday but upon waking I didn't feel anything. My first thought was, "Am I better now?"

Sarah stirred and asked "How do you feel today?"

I sat up and felt pretty good. So, just to make sure, I punched myself in the gut. Hard. I winced. I wasn't better yet.

"That was dumb" was all I could say and then Sarah and I laughed.

Ugh

Yesterday Sarah and I woke up to do our daily workout and I couldn't make it all the way through. Dizzy, light-headed, and just an in-general feeling of being drained. I pontificated on whether or not I was getting sick.

Last night we got home from the movies ("Back to the Future"!) and not long after getting back to the apartment I started feeling ill in my stomach. Almost like a light version of the stomach flu. I woke up a couple of times in the night to smell up the bathroom and when I woke up the woozy feeling was still there.

I came in to work today and smelled up the bathroom here a few times (I don't discriminate) and am now considering just going home early. Ugh.

Stupid imperfect body.

My Scientific Discovery

You know those times when you just wake up and you're laying there thinking about nothing in general and then you have an idea you think is BRILLIANT but then a few hours later you realize you were still half-asleep and your idea was, in all actuality, stupid?

Here was my awesome idea: Radio waves are everywhere. Radio stations are sending out all these signals and they're all over the place. I then wondered how the radio waves from all the radio (and TV) stations affected our bodies. And sometimes you come across people who are sick all of the time for no apparent reason. Well, what if it's the radio waves that are affecting their bodies and making them sick?! And what if I just cured someone? Has no one else ever thought of this? I'm a scientific genius!!

I remember laying there and priding myself in being such a deep thinker and if I have these awesome ideas in the morning by just laying there, maybe that's how I should start every day and who knows what story and movie ideas I would come up with.

But now that it's later and I'm pretty much fully awake I realize I should keep most of my half-asleep revelations to myself.

A Small Wedding

As I sat down to write this I turned my iPod on "shuffle" to supply a little background music. Appropriately the first song that came on was "L-O-V-E" by Nat King Cole. And really, right now that's about the only thing that's been on my mind.

Sarah and I have been married for just over a week now and it's been amazing. Our wedding ceremony was pretty simple by most modern standards and I wouldn't have changed a thing. It was just Sarah and me on the beach in Florida with the preacher and a guy taking pictures.

It seems wedding ceremonies have become so complex and involved, it's become very easy to focus on all of the non-essentials: Renting the church, coordinating colors with bridesmaids' dresses, choosing music, deciding who to -- and not to -- invite, decorating, who will sing which song, whose niece will be the flower girl, will we take communion and light a unity candle, coordinating who walks down the aisle to which music cue, wondering if everyone will be able to fly in and get a hotel, buying and booking flowers, photos, videos, and commemorative mugs.

All that and more.

Needless to say, people in the wedding business are making a good chunk of change off of America In Love.

We go through such a rigmarole, instead of two people pledging love to one another the process transforms us into mini-producers trying to put together the perfect performance that will outdo anything we've seen, will be more memorable than the next couple's ceremony, and will also be pulled off without a hitch.

Sarah and I decided to approach it all from a different angle entirely. We wanted to skip all the flair and go straight to what was important to us: Pledging never-ending love to one another. Let's be honest. Ten years down the road no one but Sarah and I will care -- or remember -- what we did or didn't do for the ceremony and we agreed we'd much rather look back and remember the day not as a big blur that cost us thousands with nothing to show for it but a few fancy photos sitting in an album no one ever looks at (how about we save that money to put toward our future together instead?), but we'll remember October 26 2007 as the day we made a promise to each other (and God) that this was it.

When Brewster, my buddy who officiated the wedding, asked what kind of ceremony-on-the-beach we wanted it felt great to be up-front about it without having to impress anyone with our "wedding show". "Nothing fancy," we told him, "We want this day to be about what it's supposed to be about."

And it was good.

After the ceremony Sarah and I ran into the ocean, wedding clothes and all. Why did we decide to do such a thing? For no other reason except we wanted to. And why not? I can't think of a better way to start a great adventure. And admit it. It looked fun and you wish you jumped in the ocean, too.

"The Woodsman"

I saw a movie tonight that did what every good movie does: It made me think.

I recall reading a review for The Woodsman when it first came out last year. The reviewer liked it but, because the content was so touchy, predicted it wouldn't do big business in the box office. The reviewer was right. I never heard anything about it since but tucked it away in the back of my head as something I'd like to see sometime.

I'll do my best to not reveal any major plot points or give anything away, so continue reading with no fear of spoilers.

Kevin Bacon stars as Walter, a man returning to society after spending some time away. Walter was a bad man and did bad things. He's haunted by his past and his actions. He knows what he did was wrong and wants desperately to change as he tries to fit back in. More than once he asks his analyst, pleads, "When will I be normal."

Unlike many movies, Walter doesn't (and can't) change overnight. Walter struggles against temptations that are right outside his front door...literally. He wants to change...he really does. It's hard to sympathize with Walter too much, however, because we know what he's done in the past and his crime is indeed a horrible one. Is it right to empathize with someone who's done something so wrong? If someone commits what can very easily be considered an unforgivable sin, does it make you just as bad as the criminal if you forgive him? Should we really forgive those who trespass against us? Can we?

At one point in the film Walter finds himself giving in...we see him giving in...and I found myself pulling for him, hoping that he wouldn't do it...I really wanted Walter to stay strong and found myself getting angry at the fact that Walter was failing. Again. And then, at the last possible second there is a revelation that changes the direction and flow. It's not one of those twists-for-sake-of-a-twist that is so popular in movies now but a moment of clarity for Walter that may not have come if he wasn't tested.

I'm not trying to annoy you with my vague details, but one of the things I liked so much about the film was that I knew very little about it going in, so I never knew what to expect or what was coming next. I will say this: One doesn't walk away from the film with the false idea that every bad person will change their ways. But it hints at the fact that they can.

In the Air

I walked outside this morning and could smell it. For the first time this year, it smells like fall. There's nothing like it and it's amazing. I can't quite put my finger on what it is exactly; it's a little cooler, the air is crisp, and it makes me think of long-sleeved sweatshirts and high school football games. It makes me want to go on a Goonie adventure or sit under a tree with a notebook.

In reality I probably won't do either one, but I still like the feeling it brings.

All Blech, No Bite (Yet)

As regular readers of my blog know, a couple of weeks ago there was a huge book sale put on by the Lancaster Public Library and I took full advantage. I've already read and finished one of my finds (The Mothman Prophecies) and was excited to begin my next book. I am halfway through Peter Benchley's Jaws.

The film version of the book came out in (I believe) 1975 and I blame it for my fear of sharks that is still with me to this day. I'd love to go scuba diving someday but know that in the back of my mind, no matter how beautiful the underwater scenery, I am going to be thinking shark, shark, look for the sharks, shark, shark, they're sneaky, they want to eat you, shark, shark, shark.

And part of the fun of watching shark movies and "Shark Week" is facing that fear (kind of but not really) and learning more about it, getting that little adrenaline rush that comes with a good scare. Needless to say I was excited to begin Jaws. I wondered if it would keep me up at night or if I would find myself going to the bathroom as quickly as possible (like I did when I was a kid) because I was sure a little tiny shark was going to find its way into the sewer, up the pipe, and chew my butt off.

Before I go any further, let me just say that I'm not finished with Jaws yet and so I realize I have no business complaining or criticizing. I can hear you now... "Finish the book before you complain about it!!!" I know, I know, I'm not ignorant of that fact and it's more than valid. I recognize that.

But until I finish it, I'm going to do a bit of griping.

There's hardly a shark in it so far. In fact, the shark has only appeared twice and only for a total of about 10 pages (hey everyone, look at me complaining about a book that came out 30 years ago...am I on the cutting edge or what?). Come on!! Scare me!!! Please!! Scare me!!

But that's not it. The story -- so far -- isn't about Chief Brody and his hunt for the shark that is terrorizing his community. It's about his wife, how unhappy she is, how bored she is, how miserable her life is, and how she ends up having an affair with Hooper, the shark expert (the Richard Dreyfus character in the movie).

What the freak is that???

This may be the first time that a movie was made based on a book, and the movie ended up being better. Not that they changed much or "Hollywood"-ed it, but they pretty much left out the whole affair scenario. And that's fine with me.

Maybe this blog ends up sounding ultra-conservative -- and I think most people who know me probably wouldn't categorize me as such -- but it's just not what I signed up for. I've never been a big fan of books or movies that have the characters fooling around on their significant others (American Beauty, The Last Kiss). That's probably the thing I feel the strongest personal conviction about and I'm sure the fact that I'm about to be married doesn't help much.

I don't know. I thought I was going to get a scary shark book and instead I ended up with some lame soap opera.

I'll let you know how it ends.

Two hours later

I finished it. The last fifty pages were exciting as the trio of men faced off against the shark. If only the rest of the book had been that way.

How Benchley resolves the whole Brody's-wife-has-an-affair-with-Hooper scenario is ridiculous. While Brody, Hooper, and Quint are on the boat chasing the shark, one of the other town characters pays a visit to Mrs Brody out of the blue and confesses his love for her. I'm still wondering where this came from. As a result of this almost-laughable-because-it-was-so-improbable plot twist, Mrs Brody decides that her life is perfect and fine and she loves her husband after all and her fling with Hooper was just sex and nothing else.

And I guess it's good she came to that conclusion because on the next page Hooper is eaten by the shark.

Convenient, huh? And by "convenient" I mean "stupid".

A Kick in the Pants

About a week and a half ago Sarah was in town and I have yet to blog about it. Why? To tell you the truth it seems a little intimidating. Mostly because there's so much to write. We did so much, I experienced so much, I felt so much, I know that once I start writing it's going to be quite the tome and I haven't been able to bring myself to tackle the sequel to "War and Peace" (not that I see our relationship as "War and Peace", quite the opposite, but that's the longest book I could think of off-hand. Maybe I should have used "The Borthers Karamazov").

But I digress. Big time.

While Sarah was here we went up to New York City for the day. Her friend Courtney was going to be in town visiting from Scotland and so we hopped on a train and made the journey. We got off the train at Penn Station in the middle of Manhattan. Because we were only a couple of blocks from the improv theater I was part of while I lived in the city we decided to stop by the National Comedy Theatre as we made our way to Central Park and see if anybody was home.

I had so much fun performing at NCT and the people there are like family to me and, in many ways, they're like home. If you've read any of my old blogs you're used to me gushing about them. When I found I would be returning to Pennsylvania I was excited because I had visions in my head of returning to NYC on the weekends to perform.

It hasn't happened yet.

I'll try to explain why, but I'm not a Master Wordsmith so bear with me.

To be honest, I hadn't felt that tug, that pull, to  get back to the city. I just didn't have the motivation. And I think it's because of my job.

Nothing against my job and nothing against NCT, but I'm doing what I love to do at WJTL. I'm making movies. I'm filming, editing, tweaking, writing, storyboarding...I love it. And I think because I have that creative outlet I was missing that hunger to perform I might have if I had a run-of-the-mill 9 to 5 office job. Does that make sense? Because my creativity had an outlet, I never had a chance, I never built up that yearning, to perform.

Not that I didn't want to. I just didn't have that drive. I don't know if I'm correctly explaining myself or not, but I don't have the energy to go back and do it better.

But all that changed last week.

As soon as Sarah and I stepped in front of the theatre, it was back. I could feel the energy and the excitement,  and when I saw my friend JT inside it was a little overwhelming. I knew I had been away too long.

Kramer and Jeff were also there and the three of them were downstairs in the green room putting down new flooring. It immediately took me back to my time there, painting the green room, putting all this work into the theatre we loved so much and I missed it.

It was so good seeing those guys again, I wished I would have seen some of the rest of the gang too, and that fire is back. I can't wait to get back there.

And you know the best part of it? Sarah was happy to be there, too. After we left she was so excited for me. It was encouraging and such a great feeling (and quite frankly, a new feeling for me) to be with someone who was genuinely supportive and eager for me to get back there. Sarah told me she wants to go back soon, and often, so she can watch me in the shows.

I didn't have that support and encouragement in my last relationship. And now that I do, I can't believe I lasted as long as I did without it.

Books, books, books

My friend Trish gave me the heads up on a huge book sale going on this week and as someone who likes to read but doesn't like to spend a lot of money, I was really grateful. Twice a year the Lancaster library system holds this huge book sale to get some of the books off their shelves and raise some money at the same time. The sale has gotten so big they now have to hold it in a huge skating rink. It began yesterday morning at 9am. I got there about a quarter after the hour and COULDN'T BELIEVE how jam-packed it was. I had to park in the fourth overflow parking area. I was excited to see so many people there and at the same time really shocked at how many people there were.

The rink  was divided into two basic sections. In one half were the newer books (for 1-3 dollars apiece) and the other books were all a dollar each for hardcover and 50 cents for paperbacks. There were so many people there it was often times hard to move and, I'm sorry, the Amish guys in attendance gave me a really bad headache with their overpowering body odor. I'm not even trying to be funny. For real. They smelled really bad. So bad that I left earlier than I had intended. That's not right and the smell coming off of them was anything but godly. Come on, Amish. You ride in cars. You often use cell phones. You shop at Wal-Mart. Do you honestly think God's going to be upset if you grab some Speed Stick? (It's not like I'm asking you to undergo the Axe effect or anything)

I returned this afternoon for a bit and there were significantly fewer books. And also significantly fewer people. I was able to browse freely and a little more comfortably. Tomorrow (the last day of the sale) everything is half off but I don't think I'm going to brave the crowds again. I ended up spending about 20 bucks for 30 books so all in all I feel like I did well. I mostly bought some classics I never read but felt I probably should have (such as Melville, Haley, Shelley, Orwell, and Dumas).

 I've been seriously slacking off in my reading habits this year so far and this was just the jump start I needed to get my nose back in some books.

Temptation

I went to Costco today and I left the building a better man.

As I was pushing my cart through the warehouse's aisles, I of course made sure to swing by the DVD section. Not that I was looking for anything in specific but if you know me then you know I likes my DVDs. A few things caught my eye and a few were so interesting I had to pick them up and give them further examination (the first two seasons of "The Muppet Show" and the M. Night Shyamalan 2-pack). But it was very easy for me to put them back on the shelf and continue my shopping.

I'm going to be getting married soon and I need to be a little wiser with how I spend my money.

And then I saw it.

The Saturday Night Live 10-pack. That's right. Ten DVDs featuring the Best of Chris Farley, Adam Sandler, Chris Rock, Will Ferrell, Christopher Walken, and--oh snap--Steve Martin. Depending on where you go, these DVDs are usually available for anywhere from $9.99 to $14.99 apiece. This convenient box set was selling for $47.

I mean come on, that's a great deal, right? I slowly put the DVDs back on the shelf and continued on my way.

And a few minutes later I returned. I slowed down to a crawl and did a drive-by second-looking. I didn't stop. I kept going.

I snaked in and out of the aisles until I was satisfied with the items in my cart and then made my way back to the DVD section for a third time. Again, my cart did not stop, but holy schnikeys I wanted to.

I made my way back to the front, paid, and made it out to the parking lot. I called Sarah immediately to brag about how strong I was.

Nice try, SNL. Close. Very close. But no cigar.

Because

Sometimes I make myself laugh. I hope that doesn't sound cocky or anything. It's just that often times my mouth's filter isn't turned on and I say things that I don't know I'm going to say until they're said. Does that make any sense? Sometimes I'm embarrassed by what I say but more often that not it's pointless and trite and just kind of dissipates in the air like a barely noticeable scent wafting away. But whatever it is, it's always a surprise. I'm sure there's medication or some sort of self-discipline for this behavior but so far I've neglected to look further into it.

Today I was giving Ann a hard time in the office, mostly because she's fun to make laugh. I can see sometimes the determination in her face, having decided in her head that she's not going to laugh. And so of course, I have to make her laugh.

Today it took me a few minutes but I finally got a nice big laugh out of her and I felt I had accomplished something. And then I surprised myself. I proclaimed to Ann, loud enough for the others around to hear, "I'm just joking with you, Ann. I tease because I tolerate."

And then I laughed at myself.

The Big Costco Blog

I know you were all waiting eagerly to hear about my adventures at Costco this evening (as promised in my previous blog). What sort of characters did I run into? What amusing anecdotes did I walk away with? What hidden gems did I discover at my local discount warehouse?

Well, I didn't go tonight. Sorry.

But I won't leave you empty-handed; that's not who I am. I wouldn't think of leaving you with nothing, and so I'll share this quick amusing story with you:

A couple of weeks ago Ann and I were going to HersheyPark for a WJTL event. On the way there we passed a gas station that had a huge sign advertising

FRESH DONUTS
IN TWO WEEKS

Yea, I know. I think the word you're looking for is "Huh?"

Sorry for Slacking

Today one of my co-workers Ashlea asked if I'd posted any new blogs lately and I realized how horribly I've kept up with it. I felt bad that I had to tell her there was nothing new.

I gave her the address for my old blogs and suggested a few she might enjoy. I skimmed through them and actually enjoyed reading them. So much so that it inspired me to try to be a little better at writing. The operative word, of course, is try. I plan on going to Costco later today and if that doesn't give me fodder for a blog, I don't know what will.

Crikey!!!

Steve Irwin, AKA The Crocodile Hunter, is dead!! My buddy Doney emailed me about this and I just saw a story on Headline News confirming it is true and not some vicious rumor. The Crocodile Hunter was killed earlier today while filming a documentary. He was murdered by a stingray. Not a crocodile. A stingray. The Crocodile Hunter was killed by a stingray. A friggin' stingray. That's like Hannibal Lecter being killed by stepping on a rusty nail.



That's a big blighter!

The Story of Us Pt 4

In early May of 2007 I was in the coffee shop at my usual table, drinking my usual white chocolate mocha, and eating my usual turkey sandwich (with fruit cup) when I had an epiphany.

The Sundance Film Festival had posted all of the short film entries on their website for the world to see--and they were horrible. Films that were so obviously trying to be "arty" for the sake of "being arty". I figured I could make a crappy short film as well as the next guy and if I could make a somewhat decent short film, then maybe I'd have something.

Sarah was working at the coffee shop that day and had forgotten to put the cheese on my turkey sandwich. To be honest, I didn't even think about it--or even realize it--but she came out to where I was sitting and told me she suspected she forgot to add my slice of cheese.

I checked the sandwich and lo and behold she was right. I told her not to worry about it but she did, and was very adorable as she apologized for the oversight more than a few times.

It was at that moment I got the idea for my short film: A cute girl working at a coffee shop and a guy, not unlike myself, who's not very adept at talking to girls but wants very much to talk to her. Maybe he's there with a buddy of his, talking about how he wants to ask her out and his buddy who of course is much better at it and more confident is trying to show him the ropes.

I named the characters Ed and Paul (Paul, after my roommate in California who not only was very good with the fairer sex but also had a way of bringing home some of the hottest California girls you'd ever find). From there the script pretty much wrote itself.

I knew it would be easy to film and wondered if I'd be able to shoot it at the coffee shop. And for that matter I wondered if Sarah would be willing to play herself. That would be cool.

I went up to the counter for a refill of my coffee and mentioned to Sarah I had written a short film that revolves around a girl who works in a coffee shop and asked if she'd be up for playing the part. Of course, I didn't mention the part about her inspiring the whole thing...I didn't want to creep her out or anything.

I was very happy that not only did she agree to do it but also seemed very eager and excited about it. When I returned to my table and sat down again I realized I'd have to make a revision and change the main character from me to someone else. Mostly because I didn't want to freak her out that I was playing a character hitting on someone (her) 13 years younger than me. Sure, it was just a film, but I didn't want Sarah...or her sister...or her brother-in-law....to think I had less-than-innocent intentions. And I can honestly tell you my intentions were indeed very innocent. I don't know how believable that sounds now, especially since we have since gotten engaged, but believe me it's true. I had not ulterior motives. I just wanted Sarah to be in the film.

I quickly changed my character to "David". Granted, David is her brother and it sounds really weird to cast her brother as someone trying to ask her out but I mean come on, in the story they aren't related. And David has an innocent shyness about him I thought would translate well. He ended up doing a much better job than I ever could have done (I think I would have come across as goofy instead of shy) and he nailed the part brilliantly.

The only other guy I knew who was around their age and could play the confident, good-looking ladies man was Matt, who also hung hung around the coffee shop quite a bit. He is Ken's son, and--that's right--Sarah's step-brother. So yea, I totally made a film about a girl and cast her real-life brother and step-brother as the two guys vying for her attention. If you never met any of them in real-life you'd have no idea of the odd casting choice, but to our friends around town...I think it really confused some of them at first.

We filmed on May 18 and it turned out really well (you can see the film here). The three of them did a great job and to say I was impressed would be an extreme understatement. As we filmed I had Sarah behind the counter and asked her to perform basic actions that I could use as cutaway shots. Simple tasks like working the register, answering the phone, sweeping the floor, etc.

I can still remember reviewing the footage later that night. I was sitting at the kitchen table of my little upstairs apartment and as I watched Sarah, it really hit home: "This girl is beautiful."

I recall rewinding the tape and re-watching a few times. There she was doing everyday mundane tasks and I couldn't keep my eyes off her. I remembered how much fun I had working with her up close and wished I'd written a bigger part so I could work with her more. Her friendliness, her warm smile, her considerate spirit...those weren't things that were merely part of her at-work customer-service mode (not that I ever suspected they were)...but that's truly who she is as a person.

Looking back on it all now I realize that although I'd already known her for about nine months, I already knew how funny, kind, sweet, and beautiful she was...the night we shot that film is the night I fell for Sarah.

The Story of Us Part 3

AUGUST 2006 - MAY 2007
The time from August 2006 to May 2007 may seem pretty uneventful on the surface but in reality it was a time of building a nice solid foundation of friendship on which we could build from there.

I began to visit the coffee shop on a pretty regular basis. I soon learned that Sarah was 23 years old, only a mere 13 years younger than me. In my head, that pretty much sealed my fate, as the last thing in the world I wanted to be thought of (especially by Sarah) was "that creepy older guy." I also learned Sarah was seeing someone else at the time and I would have no part in trying to move in on someone already in a relationship. I accepted the situation and moved on into "the friend zone."

What I didn't realize at the time was  the fact that this was probably the best thing that could have happened. I'm not too naive to admit God knew what He was doing.  If circumstances had been different I would have changed the way I acted around her. I don't know if I"ve mentioned this before but I'm not a good single guy around pretty girls. I become awkward, unsure of myself, very self-conscious, and I usually end up coming across as a goof. And not in a good way. Trust me on this.

But when I know there's no chance (or, in this case, think there's no chance), I can talk to anyone. Whether she is the one in the relationship or if I happen to be with someone, all of that goes out the window and I can talk to anyone. Why? Because of the simple fact that I don't care what they think of me. If I don't impress or woo them, it's all right, because it wasn't going to happen anyway. And so because Sarah was seeing someone, I was able to just be myself. I know. Crazy.

The Coffee shop is owned and operated by Sarah's sister Stacy and Stacy's husband Nathan. The are two of the coolest, kind-hearted, down-to-earth, mellow people you'd ever want to meet and I got to get to know them through my frequent visits as well. Sarah's younger brother David also works there and because Sarah's family  was always around that also made things for the future even cooler.

You see, what was happening was this: I was getting to know and love Sarah's family.

Don't get me wrong, they're great people and I'm not saying it wouldn't have been fun -- or easy -- to get to know them if Sarah and I started dating right off the bat, but this way there wasn't any of the pressure that is sometimes there when you "MEET THE FAMILY" for the first time. It was really cool.

Speaking of cool, wait until you hear this. It may be a little harder to follow reading it than if I were there to explain it in person but hear me out and try to follow because it's worth it.

I grew up going to church in Auburn, Indiana. One of the kids who also went there was a boy in the same grade as me named Chris McCormick. We became really good friends and it became a common occurrence that after church I would go home with him or he would come home with me and we would hang out and play and get into whatever kinds of mischief fifth graders get into. Sometimes I would get to spend the whole weekend at his house. I have fond memories of us pooling our Star Wars action figures together so we could create epic adventures. 

Chris's Mom had remarried a guy named Ken Stine and because I spent so much time at their house I got to know the two of them pretty well over the years (and vice versa). Ken spent a few years working as the guy who refills candy machines and I remember Chris sneaking me aboard the candy truck on more than one occasion to sample the goods.

As sometimes happens, things change, and a number of years later Ken and Chris's mom separated. And, you guessed it, a few years after that Ken married Sarah's mom. Small world, huh?

So, From late summer of 2006 to spring of 2007 I got the chance to get to know Sarah and some of her family. They're great people and now, as Sarah and I move closer to marriage, I can't wait to call them not only friends, but family.

A Ghostly Plan Redux

A couple weeks ago I posted a blog about a ghost tour and my thoughts on creating one of my own. Last night I sat down and wrote about the same thing again, but I feel I flushed some things out and added a few humorous details. I don't know, call this the director's cut of that blog.

There's a small town outside of Lancaster Pennsylvania called Strasburg. It's quiet. Quaint. It has a nice Amish population and an ice cream shop on the corner that attracts a fair share of tourists. It's not much different from a lot of other small towns on the East Coast. And, like a lot of small towns on the East Coast with any history behind it, it has a ghost tour.

Every half hour or so a small group of people will converge, led by a woman wearing a long black cape. I understand the mood they're going for but this far away from Halloween it just has a tendency to look silly.

I spoke to a woman who is on the Strasburg city council and apparently many of the ghost stories are just that: stories. Totally made up with no real basis in fact or history.

By the way, they charge 15 dollars a head to go on this Tour of Lies. And people pay it. On some days they have as many as six tours a night. They're making out pretty well if you ask me.

Why couldn't I do that?

Who says I couldn't?

I talked to my friend about this and she told me they do indeed require a license to perform these tours. And the license is only twenty bucks. Even if I did a half-assed job of it, I could make that back in one tour. But I wouldn't do a half-assed job. Not me.

My only other expense would be a cape. Where do you get one of those? I'd need to get a cape, though. Maybe one with sparkles or sequins. I bet Sarah would be willing to Bedazzle the crap out of a cape for me. Really show up those amateurs.

I wouldn't charge 15 bucks a pop, though. I would only charge 10. And I wouldn't feel like I was sacrificing anything because if you want to give me 10 bucks to lie to you and a bunch of your friends for half an hour...I'd totally be down for that. And I can pretty much guarantee you my lies would be way better. Please. That's easy. I'll make up a story right here on the spot:

This mansion was built in 1872, not long after he Civil War, by John and Olivia Worthington. John fought in the Civil War and came back missing an arm. Nevertheless he continued building the house he'd always promised his young bride. One day while he worked on the roof he lost his footing. He tried to steady himself but because he only had one arm he had to let go of the bucket of materials he held in order to save from falling from the roof. Unfortunately Olivia was right below working in her garden and was struck on the head by the materials. She died instantly. Mr. Worthington was so distraught he threw himself from the rooftop where he plummeted to his death, impaling himself on a decorative stick in the yard. To this day if you ever find yourself in the garden at night, you'll see a huge shadow on the roof that leaps off right at you. Of course, the ghostly figment vanishes before it lands but not before you hear the haunted scream of a woman right beside you. And then your lips fall off.

OK, so granted I need to work on the ending. And I'm not really sure why they had a "decorative stick" in the yard, but I just made it up. I bet if I took some time to really think about it I could make it into an awesome story. But my point is I can make up stories and lie about ghosts and accept ten dollars from people to do it.

At first I thought about charging people half of what the other ghost tour people charge, which wold be 7 dollars apiece. But after some consideration I decided to make it an even 10 dollars because I'm not good (or fast) at math. If a family of four wants to go on the tour at 7 dollars each and they pay with a fifty-dollar bill, how much change would I owe them? Maybe you know, but I don't. So yeah. Ten bucks each. Easy. And also that way I never have to worry about running out of one-dollar bills. That would suck.

My ghost tour would also be better because I would include my friends to play crazy characters we meet along the way. Believe me, I know people who would totally be down for playing a creepy man on the corner with a story about the old firehouse or abandoned livery. Not that there's an abandoned livery in downtown Strasburg but believe you me, when I tell the ghost stories one of those old buildings is going to end up being an abandoned livery.

There will also be stories about people dying in fires, secret lovers murdered by over-protective fathers, and at least one death by monkey. That one might be tough to make sound convincing but I'm determined to be the only ghost tour storyteller with a monkey death tale to pass along.

You'd pay ten bucks to hear that, right?

Yes you would.

The Story of Us Pt 2

MONDAY AUGUST 21 2006
I made my way to the coffee shop downtown, Brewdaily's Cafe. I was impressed from the moment I opened the door. As soon as I walked in, it didn't feel like I was in Smalltown, USA. It was huge inside with really cool decor and big comfy couches to sit in. This place would easily fit in Santa Monica or Greenwich Village. The girl behind the counter was really cute. And not cute in a "oh hey she's cute" kind of way but in a "wow, who is THIS" fashion. The thing is, I'm horrible at the "how old is this person" game (seriously, never ask me how old I think you are if you don't want to be offended) and I didn't want to do or say anything too forward lest she turn out to be 16 and I find myself in jail and the talk of the town.

She was really friendly and made a mean white chocolate mocha. I sat down to write a little bit and knew I would be back. I had to find out more about this girl.

WEDNESDAY AUGUST 23 2006
I visit the coffee shop once again and again, the beautiful girl is working behind the counter. I'm so happy with the fact I have found a new place to hang out I am inspired to write a short story, called simply "Java."

The Story of Us Pt 1

I'm going to do my best to recount the story of Sarah and me as best as I can remember. It's a long story (or at least will be when I'm done with it) so I'll be publishing these in installments.

*Just a warning: There will probably be inaccuracies, lapses of memory, and free association. Sometimes it might seem like what I am writing has nothing to do with Sarah. Trust me.


WEDNESDAY AUGUST 16 2006
I hadn't been back in Indiana for very long. I was previously living in New York City and to say The Big Apple had a few coffee shops would be putting it lightly. To say I frequented those coffee shops would also be putting it lightly. I usually went to Starbucks, not out of brand loyalty, but because in New York every third building you pass is a Starbucks.

After moving back to Indiana it didn't take long for my coffee craving to kick in. But this was Auburn Indiana, not New York City and I didn't know what I would find (if anything) in the way of coffee shops.

One day I happened to notice a coffee shop in a strip mall across the street from a grocery store. It didn't really stand out and it was one of those places you had to know was there in order to find it. I didn't think they were getting a lot of drop-ins. I went in armed only with my notebook I always carry with me. I intended to do some writing and enjoy some quiet time.

I ordered my coffee (white chocolate mocha) and sat down. The coffee wasn't very good, but it was warm and it was made of coffee beans, so I figured I'd force it down. I began writing in my book when the owner of the shop began to make a loud fuss (all of the details are here). Turns out the owner knew my brother and was shouting loudly to his wife across the shop about me and who I was. To say I was a little embarrassed would be pretty accurate. I vowed never to step foot in that place again. And so far I've made good on my vow to myself.

I told my brother Ray about the incident and he and his wife Piper told me about another coffee shop that was located in downtown Auburn. And when I say "downtown" I don't mean like on Sunset Boulevard or Michigan Avenue or 42nd Street. I mean "downtown" as in the courthouse square in Back to the Future. Seriously. It looks just like that, with the huge courthouse and the big clock and all of the little shops all around. Apparently there was another coffee shop located in the square and I intended to check it out.

Look, Ma, no hands!

I was at the movie theater this weekend watching a triple feature (in order from worst to best, I saw "I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry", "License to Wed", and "The Simpsons Movie").

In between movies I made my way to the restroom and happened upon an old man at one of the urinals. He was standing there like Superman, proud and with his hands on his hips. ON HIS HIPS.

I don't know about you, but it's been my experience that you just don't do that. It's a good idea to always keep at least one hand in charge of aiming. And I would think that is doubly important at this guy's age, what with unstable stream strength and sudden hacking coughs that could pop up to throw a monkey wrench in the business.

But there this guy stood, looking around, as if to show everyone what he was up to. I figured his wife was probably passed away, because otherwise he would know better than to try a stunt like that (unless she likes a toilet seat, stand, and bathroom floor covered in pee).

As he stood there, hand firmly on his hips, and just being cocky about it (pun sort of intended) I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to go to the urinal next to him and pretend like I was peeing but instead reach up with both of my hands and streeeeetch. And then I wanted to put one hand extended in front of me and one behind, as if I were going into a yoga warrior stance. I wanted to clap my hands and do jazz hands and pound on the walls, just to show him what I can do with my hands free.

But I didn't. Instead I picked the urinal furthest away from him to avoid any overspray.

Stupid old man.

A Mushy Blog

This was actually a message I left on Sarah's Facebook page, but thought it might be a nice entry here as well. It's a bit mushy (but 100% sincere) so be warned.

There are countless things I love about you. But this past week when you came to visit, I discovered a few new ones. Here are some of them:

1. I love how you take pictures inside of stores, even though it upsets the staff.

2. I love how you narrate interpretive dance.

3. I love how I got to help pick out what you wore when I proposed to you.

4. I love how, when you were trying to figure out what to wear, you made everything look amazing.

5. I love how you smile when you meet someone new.

6. I love how you give people the benefit of the doubt, even when they don't deserve it.

7. I love how impulsive you are, even in a crowd, and it makes me laugh.

8. I love how you can be yourself because you know nothing you do will ever embarrass me or make me think any less of you. In fact, it only makes me love you more.

9. I love how you can't wait for the future to start now.

10. I love how a ring looks on your finger.

How I Spent My Week

Ok, yea, I've been noticeably absent for a bit (and if you're reading this on MySpace, it's not only because I have jumped ship and abandoned Tom for Facebook.

Sarah came to visit last week and to say I've been a little preoccupied would be an understatement. And because people want "the whole story"...here it is. A little condensed. But just a little.

Sarah got in last Wednesday afternoon. Her train ended up getting into town about an hour late and we crossed the street to go to A Loaf of Bread, a wonderful bakery here in town owned and operated by Sadie, Phil's wife. It was a lot of fun to hang out with Phil and Sadie and to say Phil gave Sarah a welcome she won't soon forget would be putting it lightly (it included Phil opening the door of the bakery and screaming to the people outside "Sarah's here, everybody!!").

That night Sarah and I drove out to Chester county to visit The Whip, an English pub out in the middle of the Pennsylvania countryside. The food was incredible and when we left that night there was a beautiful mist in every direction.

Thursday Sarah and I visited the gang at work at WJTL and lunched at the Lancaster Coffee Company. That night got together with Chuck & Ann, Lisa, Stacey, and Mindy for dinner and conversation. At one point during the evening, as we were all seated around the dinner table enjoying our grilled burgers and salmon, I commented that I felt like I was in a Woody Allen film. Everyone agreed. After dinner we enjoyed a rousing game of Celebrity.

Friday afternoon Sarah and I ran around downtown Lancaster, taking in the sites, the market, and the sun. It was a beautiful day and we enjoyed a great lunch at the Prince Street Cafe. That night we hung out with Tom & Mel. We had some great food, enjoyed a lot of heartfelt laughs, and watched "Freedom Writers" to wind up the night.

On Saturday Sarah and I went to the Park City Mall to kill time before heading up to Nissley Vineyards. We met Ethan & Aubrey and some friends of theirs as we settled in to enjoy a night of wine, cheese, and a live band playing both swing and latin music. It was a perfect night and Sarah and I found ourselves alone for a short bit. Ethan is a very talented photographer and I mentioned to Sarah he brought his camera along. I suggested we ask him if he would take some pictures of us while there was still sunlight. When we returned to where the group was picnicking, Ethan asked if we'd seen the inside of the winery. I told him no, and asked him if he would bring his camera along to take some photos of us.

The three of us headed inside the winery and I motioned to the racks of wine that stood before us. "Maybe we could stand in front of these for a good shot?" Sarah and I made our way further in and Sarah began to look around.

"How should we pose?" she asked, "What should we do?"

Sarah was facing away from me when I answered, "Why don't you stand there and I'll give you this?" Sarah turned back to me and saw I was holding a small box with a ring inside.

I asked Sarah if she would marry me and her face lit up. It was beautiful; SHE was beautiful. She answered "yes" and we hugged and kissed and hugged some more. The energy was amazing and all the while, Ethan continued to click away on his camera.

Hours after the events of that night Sarah was still beaming, still glowing. It was amazing and couldn't have been any more perfect.

Yesterday we spent the day at HersheyPark and this afternoon Sarah got back on the train for the return ride home. I put a bunch of pictures from the week on my Facebook page. It was a great week; An amazing week. I'm in love with my best friend and I'm going to marry her.

My Ghostly Plan

I was walking in downtown Strasburg PA last week and came across a small group of people gathered on a street corner. They were being led by a woman who--in any other situation--would not garner a second look. But on this occasion she did. Because she was wearing a long black cape.

It turns out it was a walking "ghost tour". You know, you pay 15 bucks and they take you around and tell you about all of the old houses that are haunted. My friend Ann's mom is on the Strasburg city council and she told me that all of the stories they tell are made up.

I was amazed. I COULD DO THAT! Why am I not doing that? I could totally charge people and make up stories about old houses!! But I would do it way better. And, I'd only charge 10 bucks instead of fifteen. And I would wear a cape with sparkles. And let the tour-goers carry lanterns.

Yea, I could totally do that. I asked Ann's mom how much it was to get a license to do that. She said it was only TWENTY BUCKS A YEAR!! I pay twenty bucks and then I could charge people money to lie to them!!!

Why am I not doing this?

So...

In general, things are good. I love my girlfriend. I love the people I work with. I have no legitimate complaints. But something tells me I'll still find plenty to whinge about. Stay tuned...

Tact

This is actually an old story but one that I was recently reminded of, so I thought I'd share it with you.

It all takes place about 6 months after my divorce was finalized. I was visiting people I hadn't seen in about 4 years and it was the first time they had seen me since the separation. Sometimes you just don't know what to say (if anything) and so you'll just say whatever pops into your head. Like the lady in this tale.

I found myself talking with someone whose daughter was recently engaged...and this woman was none too happy about it.

She thought that if I would email her daughter I could talk her out of it. Naturally, since I didn't really know her daughter or the situation, I didn't want to get involved. This woman continued to try to talk me into it by pleading her case with this gem:

"I just thought you could talk from experience and let her know how horrible marriage is."

Ha ha ha, yea. I thought that was awesome, too.

"Sicko" sickos

I went to see the new Michael Moore documentary "Sicko" today. I'm not always a fan of Moore as a celebrity or personality, but I have to admit he knows how to put together a film, whether I agree with his point-of-view or not. In his latest outing he takes a stab at the state of America's health care coverage. Don't worry...it's not nearly as boring and banal as my description makes it sound. In fact, it's probably my favorite movie by Moore, besting even his "Roger & Me" debut. By the end of the film I found myself wondering the same thing I've been wondering for some time now:

1. Why DOESN'T America have free universal health care?

2. I now have yet another reason to go to Europe.

I was also very impressed with Lancaster today. At the 1:00 showing the theater was almost to full capacity and a large portion of the audience appeared to be teenagers. I have to admit I was sure they would cause a ruckus during the movie after learning they weren't in the theater showing "Transformers" but I was pleasantly surprised. You couldn't have asked for a better crowd.

On the way out I was walking behind an elderly couple and the woman commented on how she too was surprised at the large number of young people in the audience. Her (I assume) husband harrumphed in response, "Young people aren't going to change anything. It's the old people who will."

An oddly pessimistic reaction from someone who, judging by his snail-like walking pace and trembling voice, only has about 4 months to start changing things before he drops dead.

THE GUYS - "The Coffee Shop"

After weeks of babbling on and on about it, my first video in THE GUYS series is complete and ready for viewing! It stars Matt Stine and David Beaman and also has a special appearance by the girl who inspired the short film, Sarah. The short film also features music by the incomparable Steve Bridgeman.

Enjoy!

Ed

Creation 2007

I just returned from the Creation Festival this morning and to say I'm tired would be an understatement. And all I did was film people. I can't imagine how tired the people are who actually worked.

I could go into the details of everything that happened. I could. But I won't. Instead of yakking here about what went down, I'll show you in a series of forthcoming videos on the WJTL YouTube page. Check back often, as I will be adding new videos as fast as I can get them edited.



To give you a sneak preview of things that may (or may not) be coming, I'll list off what I have written on the DV tapes (some of these identifying notes may only make sense to me, but I guess that will add to the mystique):

TAPE 1
Bethany Dillon. Tarps. Britney Mosher (Kutless Girl). Frankie. Mindy crowd. Skillet/Crowd. UMC Potty. Stacey/Gates. Traffic Control. Britt Nicole live. Kids' Tent. Bob Larry & Kristi. Girl Sleeping. Lunch w/us kids. Family Force 5 live. Monsterpod. Aaron Shust Pt 1

TAPE 2
Aaron Shust Pt 2. Mindy & Kristi eye check. Britt Nicole. I Heart Eddie. KJ-52. Lisa Landis. David Crowder. Monsterpod. Hot dog vendor. Rain crowd. Barbel. Salvador. Night crowd. Girl sleeping

TAPE 3
Outhouse shot. Shoes outside bus. Baked potato. ??? Storyside B. Casting crowns. Grits live. Aluminum foil girl. Gibson family. CSK winner. Shuttle bus line/golf cart view. Teron. Girl sleeping. Leeland

TAPE 4
Over ashes. Hawk Nelson. Creation crowd. Thousand Foot Krutch. tobyMac live. Casting Crowns live. Night. Compassion. Candlelighting.

TAPE 5
Phil Wickham live. Mandisa live. Phil Wickham. Newsboys trailer. Behind the stage. House of Heroes. Creation crowd (boy with ball). Hot dog vendor. Kutless. John Reuben.

TAPE 6
Caleb K (Kutless). Creation crowd. Barlow Girl. Hot dog vendor.

Despite all the obvious good times (interviews, concerts, free hot dogs) the best part of the week was seeing people I missed. A majority of them I hadn't seen since I was still working at Gotee Records and it was great to hang out and catch up with Gabe Patillo, John Reuben, Teron, Anita Crawford, and the Relient K guys.

Of course, as good as it was to see all of them, my favorite part of the week was spending time with Sarah. That's right. She hopped in an RV with her mom, her sister Stacy, and Stacy's two daughters and they made the long trek to Pennsylvania for the festival. Whenever I had a spare moment I would run outside and catch a few minutes with Sarah. Being with her again was amazing and, as much as I already knew I loved in missed her, it only served as a confirmation as to how much. She got to meet the whole JTL gang, we got to witness the candlelighting service together, we climbed to the top of the lookout, I asked her mom and her sister a question, and I got to hold hands with Sarah again.

Really, can you beat that?

The Laws of MySpace: NAMES

I've been bouncing around MySpace for some time now and I've come across some revelations. Nothing new; you may have noticed them as well. But the difference is I am choosing to blog about them because if you know me, I always need something to gripe about. And since I have an amazing girlfriend, a great job, and life in general is pretty good, I don't really have anything to gripe about so I have decided to aim my sites at MySpace. That's right. Biting the hand that feeds me. So what? Rather than bunch my MySpace whinges together in one long-winded blog, I have chosen to start a series based on this phenomenon. Today's topic: Your MySpace name. It's come to my attention that you can tell a lot about a person based on their screen name alone. Observe:

"Sexy/Hottie/Glamorous/Cutie"
If a girl has any of the above descriptive words (or anything similar) in her screen name, i.e. GlamorousGrl or SexyMama she will, in all actuality, NOT be any of those things.

Hearts
If the "heart" symbol appears anywhere in the screen name and it's a girl, she will be 12 years old but desperately wishes she were older. Like 15. If it's a guy with a heart symbol in the screen name, he will be 44 years old be desperately wishes he were younger. Like 12. And a girl.

4 Words or More
If the screen name is not a name but a complete sentence like "I hate your mother's cooking" or "Deep into the night steps a wayward fawn" or "Music is my master and I am its slave" then they are an idiot. They probably write unsuccessful poetry and think they're much deeper than they actually are. They aren't deep, just annoying.

I Need Attention!
If the screen name is actually a birthday reminder ("It's My Birthday!" or "4 Days Til My BDay!") then they don't have any friends. Do not pity them. Do not wish them a happy birthday. They suck.

Nouns
Most screen names are the person's name (Bob), a play on their name (Amykins), or a nickname (Daruba). This is fine. Once in a while you'll get someone, though, who picks a random noun (The Blender) or a name they wish they went by (Studmaster General). These people are almost as bad as the "It's My Birthday" people. But I won't be too harsh on them because these people can't help it. These people are stupid.

Tour de Lanc

Yesterday after work Stacey, who is the office manager here at the station, drove me around the city of Lancaster to sort of give me a refresher course and try to recapture my bearings. It didn't work. I spent the whole time turned around, not sure which way was north, and never ending up where I thought we were.

One nice thing, though, was seeing how many things are here that I never got to experience the last time I was here. Stacey pointed out all of the cool spots to take Sarah when she visits and even showed me the coolest Irish pub in town. A few days ago I hung out with my pals Ethan and Aubrey and they showed me and told me of a few treasures in the area I'd never heard of.

Of course when most people think of Lancaster, they automatically think of the Amish. You don't think about the small streets that remind you of Chicago or New York City, the little Mexican restaurants and grocery stores, the vineyard that has a live big band for dancing, or the new Minor League baseball stadium. Stacey worded it perfectly yesterday: "There's a big difference between Lancaster County and Lancaster City."

So many cool things I can't wait to see and do. It really is like I never lived here before. I'm grateful to have this second chance to experience the place I live and not just reside here.

Return to (Amish) Paradise

I just wrote a very long and very enthralling blog on my return to Pennsylvania and WJTL which MySpace was then kind enough to lose for me. So I will recap:

1. I'm safe and sound and staying with Ann & Chuck in their beautiful home while I carry on Apartment Hunt 07.

2. I am excited to get back to the WJTL offices tomorrow and see everyone again and start work.

3. I miss Sarah. But at least I have that cool movie of ours to watch until I see her again in a couple of weeks.



4. There is a stretch of 283 right outside of Lancaster that REALLY smells like manure. And not in a good way. I had forgotten about that.

I Still Won

Today after we finished work I was standing around with Ray while Dad ran some paperwork inside for the homeowners. They have a sort of weird swingset-type thing in their backyard that consisted of various vertical pipes. I asked Ray if he thought he could grab one pipe with each hand and hang in the air longer than Dad could. Without hesitation Ray said he could.

When Dad returned from outside Ray turned the tables and said, "Hey Dad, do you think you can hang from those bars longer than Eddie?"

Dad laughed and said "Yea. How long did he do it?"

"You have to do it at the same time," Ray said.

Dad approached the bars and I started to laugh. I could see that if we both dangled there at the same time we would be really close together, almost touching. "I'm going to lose because I'm going to start laughing," I said.

But still the game went on.

Dad and I stood face to face and I was already cracking up. Ray counted us off with a count to three and immediately Dad started to make me laugh. I laughed and accidentally sent spittle flying in his face. Which made me laugh more.

It was a little harder than it sounds; you couldn't just hang from the bars. They were at such a distance that your arms almost had to be straight out at your side in order to grab them both, so it was pretty tough. I decided I was going to throw the contest and wrap my legs around Dad's torso and pull him down.

I started laughing because I knew it was going to be funny.

And then Dad threw a leg up and kicked me in Menards.

Dad let go and walked away laughing while Ray and I both simultaneously exclaimed, "Duuuuuuude."

It didn't hurt. And I won. Totally worth it.

Old People: Not Funny

The last couple of days I have been doing work for people who are older than me. By older than me, I mean in their 60s. Siding houses, wallpapering, what-have-you. And in both cases they have annoyed me with their attempts at being funny. What makes it worse is that they both have the exact same material.

Here's the basic premise: They will hover over me and watch me work and then make comments like "Gee, you sure are working slowly" or "Where did your dad get such horrible help" or "Just because it's 5:00 doesn't mean you can go home. You young people don't know what it is to work."

I know they're just trying to be funny, but the thing is, they're failing at it. Instead of using delivery that is light and friendly, they say it in their I-Can-Say-Whatever-I-Really-Feel-If-I-Pretend-I'm-Joking voice. And after 2-1/2 weeks of hearing it over and over and over again it has gone from "not funny" to "really not funny" to "slightly annoying" to "ready to walk off the job at any moment."

If you know me, then you know I like to joke around. That's not what I have a problem with. I just hate it when I'm out in the sun working and they're standing behind me, beer in hand, and making smart-aleck comments to someone they don't even know.

Maybe it's because Dad told them I'm into comedy and they're just trying to be funny. Maybe that's how everyone joked in the '50s. But you're paying me to work on your house, not be funny, and for you my funny isn't free.

Enjoying the weather

Sarah and I didn't mind that it was pouring outside. Given the recent heatwave that's been pounding Indiana, the water was actually quite nice. We stood there and let the downpour drench us; at one point Sarah closed her eyes and turned her faced upward, letting it cool her face. She was especially beautiful in that instant and I'll have that image in my mind's eye for a long time.

It should have been in a movie, that's how perfect everything was for those few too-brief minutes. And now every time I see rain on TV or hear a rumble of thunder in the distance I think of us standing there that night, well-aware the moment would soon pass, but also knowing it was a moment that wouldn't be soon forgotten.

I can almost hear it now. "Gee, Ed sure has been quiet on MySpace recently." It's true. I have. See, the thing is, I met this girl...

Actually, to say I just met her isn't entirely true. I met her last summer. August 21, 2006 to be exact. It's just that we've only recently realized there was a mutual liking going on. It only took us about a year for things to come together. We're sharp like that.

Her name is Sarah and she makes me laugh like no one ever has. She's got a heart so big you could live beneath it and a smile so cute it could melt...I don't want to be cliche and say "rocks" or "diamonds" but am having a hard time finding the right word. I was gonna go with "Formica" but that didn't sound right and "hard stuff" sounded even worse. So I'll just say her smile could melt something that otherwise would be really hard to melt.

I won't get too mushy on ya, don't worry. I don't want to give everyone diabetes by going on and on about how sweet she is. But I could. So watch yourselves.

So yea...I haven't exactly been online a lot lately. I'm moving away in a couple of weeks and before now I couldn't wait to get out of here. Now it's kind of like, "OK, time, you can slow down for a bit now."

And now you know why. Now you know why I haven't changed my Top 10 list in a week and why my picture has stayed the same and why I have been slow to leave comments on your blog or respond to your messages. It's not that I don't care, it's just that I've been busy being smitten.

Quote of the Day (Courtesy of Ray)

Today at work Ray got frustrated with his tape measure. He said, "This stupid thing. I'm going to burn it."

Ray then paused, thought for a second, and muttered to himself, "Will this burn?"

Happiness

I don't mean to brag but I had the best weekend ever. I spent the whole time smiling and laughing. And my cheeks don't even hurt.

How to Tell If You're in Garrett, Indiana

A couple of days ago I went to the bank. As I got out of the car, I saw a rather large lady running (or waddling quickly) down the sidewalk screaming at the top of her lungs "GIVE ME BACK MY BABY!!!!!!!"

It wasn't unlike watching "Cops" live.

And that's how you know you're in Garrett, Indiana.

Ashes Wednesday

This week has not been a fun work week. We have been siding a house this week and that's just not my favorite thing in the world to do. On top of that, we have been starting work an hour earlier each day but still stopping at the usual time, so on top of an already long work day I now get a work day that's an hour longer.

It's the middle of the week and it's starting to catch up with me. Today at work I was bored, cranky, tired, and hungry. By the time noon finally rolled around I was starving. Usually for lunch we'll run somewhere and grab a bite to eat but today the guy we were working for offered to cook us burgers. A nice enough gesture, but I just wanted to get away for a bit; I'm getting sick of being there and a few minutes elsewhere would have been a nice change.

He grilled Dad and I two burgers each and we all sat around his picnic table as we prepped our sandwiches. I had added all of the toppings to my burgers and just as I was about to put the bun on top a wind picked up.

On the table was an ashtray. And....you guessed it...I watched as hundreds of little ash particles flew directly onto my burgers; it looked like I went on a pepper rampage.

And that was the last straw in an already draining day. The first thought that came into my mind was (no lie), "So I guess I'm having cigarettes for lunch."

No one else saw happened and I accepted my fate without saying a word. That's right. That's the kind of state of mind I was in. I put the buns on top of my two sandwiches and ate my entire lunch.

Hunting Fungus

This week Dad and I were eating lunch in a local dive and an old guy approached Dad and began to regale him with his tales of "mushroom hunting". Apparently people go out in the woods...and look for mushrooms. Why the word "hunting" is applied to it is beyond me. Perhaps it's an attempt to make it sound more exciting than it actually is? I don't know how common a practice this is, but I know more than a few people in Indiana who go out...."mushroom hunting."

As this man told us of his adventures and the many different kinds of mushrooms he discovered, I came upon the following revelation:

The only thing that can possibly be more boring than mushroom hunting is a conversation about mushroom hunting.

Production Update - "The Coffee Shop"

Last night I shot the principal photography on my new short film "The Coffee Shop" (the first in a series of short films collectively called "The Guys"). The film stars David Beaman and Matt Stine and also features the very bubbly Sarah Beaman.

This film follows two guys in a coffee shop as they ponder asking out the cute girl who works behind the counter. Needless to say it was written while I was at the coffee shop and since Sarah was working there at the time I decided to cast her as the object of the guys' affection. I originally began writing the part of Guy Who Wants To Ask Out Cute Girl But Is Too Shy with me in mind since that's pretty much the story of my life but then I realized I'm like 30 years older than Sarah and that'd just be weird. I then decided to cast David in my role and Matt in the role of his counterpart.

I was happy all of my first-picks were able to participate. Although none of them are actors they did a great job and I have to admit I was very impressed. They all got into it as soon as I started rolling film. They needed very little direction and their performance perfectly captured what this writer was going for.

About 99% of shooting is completed; I hope to get the remaining shots within a week or so. I will be in the editing room today (aka Brewdaily's Cafe) editing what I got last night and will then turn over a rough copy to musician extraordinaire Steve Bridgeman, who has agreed to provide the music. Those of you who are in the Pennsylvania area will surely be familiar with Steve's music. He is one of the best, highly skilled guitar players I have ever heard perform and after hearing some of his "Movie Theme" songs he had on his website for a bit, I knew I'd be a fool not to ask him to take part. Steve was more than game and I am really excited to have him on board!

Of course, I will keep you updated as things progress. When the final product is complete it will be posted on my YouTube page (stop by and add me as a friend if you haven't already).

And in case you're wondering, "The Failures of Ed" is still in production. Since I can pretty much film that any time I want, I had to bump a few things ahead of it on the shooting schedule before I leave town.

More to come...

The Pinnacle of Awkward

I just returned from grabbing a bite to eat. While I was there I ran into Ralph, from the local hardware store. He's an older guy (I say "older" because I don't know how old he is...but I know he was in the service in WWII) who's really cool and funny and I enjoy talking with him. We talked mostly about old films and other light fare but soon our conversation took a turn down Serious Lane and he began telling me the story of his best friend passing away.

It was during this vulnerable time we were approached by a guy who I went to high school with. He was creepy back then and is really creepy now (perhaps it was his attempt to convert me to Communism a few years ago that turned me off to him. Or maybe the time he threatened my grandmother and my aunt. The point is, he's creepy). He approached our table and then just stood there as poor Ralph told me about the late-night call he received from his buddy's wife.

Bear in mind, I've been back in Indiana for just about a year now, and have seen this guy on a number of occasions. I looked up at him standing there watching us and suddenly found myself in this conversation:

CHUCK: Eddie?
ME: Yeah.
CHUCK: I wondered if that was you.
ME: It's me.
CHUCK: You probably don't even remember who I am.
ME: Sure I do, Chuck.
CHUCK: You look bigger. Have you grown?
ME: Not really.
CHUCK: Stand up.

I share a perplexed look with Ralph and then scoot my chair back and stand up.

ME: 5'11. Just like I've been for a while.
CHUCK: No. I think you've grown since high school.

I sit back down.

Awkward pause. Then,

ME: Must be all the steroids.

I smile. Ralph laughs. Chuck does not.

CHUCK: Do you take steroids?
ME: No, Chuck. I was just making a joke.
CHUCK: I took steroids in high school.

I remember that Chuck has always been scrawnier than even I.

ME: Really?
CHUCK: Yea. Did you?
ME: No, I can't say that I did.
CHUCK: You can't really tell, but I did.

Awkward pause followed by

Really awkward pause.

CHUCK: I took (Chuck names off several medical terms that I assume are steroids, but that I cannot remember now).
ME: Oh....yeah.....um....no, I never did that.

Chuck stands and looks at me and Ralph long enough to create another awkward pause and then just walks away.

I tell ya, as much as I am looking forward to Pennsylvania next month, it's gonna be hard to top awkwardness like that.

Safe Sex Talk

Today Dad and I were working at a house and the guy was telling us about a Sex Education class he went to last night. I spent the first part of his tale trying to figure out why he was attending such a class, since he's in his 60s (I know a lot of things have changed in the last 40 years, but as far as I know, the fundamentals of sex are pretty time-tested). It turns out it was part of his AA class. I still wasn't quite sure why they were teaching them about sex in an AA class, but that's not the point.

The point is the teacher was teaching the class how to put on a condom. Or, as he pronounced it, a pro-elastic. At first I thought he was saying "prophylactic" wrong on purpose to be silly, but it turns out he wasn't as he continued to tell us about the pro-elastic and how to wear a pro-elastic and the teacher was telling them all about pro-elastics and then she went on to display how to put on a pro-elastic.

We've worked for this guy quite a bit and he's not the kind of person who is always goofing up words so it threw me off even more than the "pro-elastic" when he announced she didn't use a banana or cucumber to demonstrate the proper way to put on a pro-elastic, but instead pulled out a real live plastic dodo! It was very hard not to burst out laughing.

This guy was sober and he wasn't even close to getting it right. So, if you happen to see an extinct bird wrapped in pro-elastic, get out of the way. There's a drunk man nearby who's feeling a bit randy.

"5 Minutes of Fame" - A (True) Short Story

5 MINUTES OF FAME

Summer vacation. July. Indiana humidity. What's an 8-year-old to do?

On one such day, I decided that I needed my own television show. That's all there was to it. If there was anything I was missing in my life at the time, it was my own 30-minute chunk of airtime to entertain the masses. Simple as that.

Innocent youth is to be treasured. Today if you were to ask me how to get your own TV show, well sheesh, you're asking the wrong person. I guess you should probably get some head shots done, check into getting an agent, maybe take some acting classes and get involved in area theater. Network with others and pack up and move to New York or Los Angeles. If you're lucky you might cross paths with someone who can get you an appointment to go in and pitch your idea. Or perhaps you're able to slip in during pilot season and get lucky.

But when you're eight years old, the answers are much simpler than that.

I grabbed the TV Guide and thumbed to the first page. I don't know if it's still like this or not (who reads the TV Guide anymore?), but at the time when there were only 3 networks and a handful of local stations, they printed the mailing addresses for the local TV affiliates on the first page of "The Guide." I used this handy reference to get the address of the ABC affiliate in Fort Wayne.

I look back now and find it amusing that I didn't even bother with CBS or NBC. That's how much of a big deal this didn't seem to me. After all, ABC showed "The Muppet Show" every night at 7. Of course I'd choose them.

If I have one regret in my life, it's that I never made a copy of the letter I wrote to ABC (or, as is their slogan, 21-Alive!). I don't recall exactly what I told them or asked of them. I do recall letting them know I'd like to have my own show and it would be funny and zany and would include lots of pies-in-the-face (a necessary ingredient for any comedy to work!). I addressed the envelope, bummed a stamp from mom, and that was that.

Of course, I never bothered to tell mom and dad what I was up to. Why should I? They'll be fine. I was always asking mom for stamps so I could send in rebates from Cheerios boxes or to submit ideas to Dynamite Magazine, so my necessity for a stamp was never questioned.

Which is why my mom was really confused the following week when ABC called the house looking for Ed Placencia. It never even registered with her that they were looking for me, and not my dad (one of the joys of having the same name, as I would grow up to discover). I was in the living room playing with my Matchbox cars (will the Rickety Manure Truck be able to beat the black sports car in the World Championship Adventure Race?!) when the phone rang. It's all still very vivid to me.

Mom told whoever was on the phone that Dad was at work and then she became really confused. She kind of laughed and then told me that I had a phone call.

ME: Hello?

VOICE: Is this Ed Placencia?

ME: Yeah.

VOICE: This is Jim Likens from 21-Alive.

ME: Oh, hi.

(Note my total lack of excitement. It's not that I wasn't excited, really, but that I did not find it out of the ordinary that they would be returning my call. I wrote to them and asked for something. Why wouldn't they call back? Of course they would. So this is really no big deal.)

JIM LIKENS: I got your letter and we'd love to put you on TV.

ME: OK.

JIM LIKENS: Unfortunately, we can't give you your own show, but I'd love to come and interview you and put you on the News.

ME: (a little bummed, but airtime is airtime) OK.

JIM LIKENS: Why don't you put a little something together, maybe five minutes, and we'll be over on Thursday afternoon at 2:00.

ME: All right.

And that was it. Pretty simple, huh?

I hung up the phone, and returned to the adventures of Black Sports Car Vs. Rickety Manure Truck. Mom, of course, was going nuts. "What did they want?" She asked, still trying to process the idea that the TV station just called me.

"I can't have my own TV show so they're going to put me on the news."

I don't know how long it took for Mom to get out of me what was actually going on and the media blitz was on. Mom called the local paper to let them know I was going to be on the news (if you didn't know I came from a small town, then that little move should let you know just how small it is).

In the meantime, I gathered my usual cast of characters I used in all of my neighborhood plays and productions. My little brother Ray and little sister Jaime. Naturally. I also needed Todd and Adam Sattison, brothers who lived across the street and whom Mom babysat in the summertime. They are always down to help (and if you saw Todd in my Terocus series then you know not a lot has changed). Finally I needed my good pal Dean Weimer. He would round out my cast and then we could start to rock and roll. Also, I would need a saxophone.

I decided for my TV debut I should go with something that was not only entertaining but also proven to entertain. There's an old saying, "Write what you know" and even before I had heard that adage I knew it to be true. Which is why I decided we would be singing a song from The Muppet Movie, "Can You Picture That" by Dr Teeth and the Electric Mayhem.

I would be playing the role of keyboardist Dr Teeth. Todd would be on lead guitar as Floyd. Jaime, of course, would be the bassist Janice and Dean would be stepping in as Zoot on sax (where in the world am I going to find a saxophone? I was pretty sure I didn't have one in my bedroom closet which is where I kept all of my props (or, as most kids call them, toys)). Ray would be Animal the drummer, and Adam would be conducting us as Scooter.

Using the photos on the back of my Muppet Movie record, I began building the set and placing each of us where we belonged. Animal goes in the back....Janice off to the left...Dr Teeth on this side and Floyd on the other...just like in the photo. Of course, we didn't have a piano or keyboard or organ for me to play. But we did have a bench that was in the shape of a semi-circle and the top was made of individual wooden slats which obviously looked like big piano keys. So now I had a keyboard. Todd had a toy electric guitar and my dad had a small acoustic guitar, so we were set in that section. I didn't have a drum for Ray, but I did have a huge plastic bucket to turn upside down. And drumsticks were easy...there was a tree in our backyard and sticks were always more than accessible.

Still, I didn't have a saxophone for Dean. But you know what? Not a problem. I had just the solution. I had a recorder. You know, the little annoying instrument every kid has in elementary school. Well, if you recall, a record came apart in three basic pieces: the mouthpiece, the main body, and the very end (or bell) where the noise came out. I simply popped the end off and duct taped it back on so it was bent up on an angle. Just like a saxophone.

We all listened to the song over and over again ("Can you picture...can you picture that") and could sing along while we pretended to play our buckets and benches and recorders. We were ready to go. In my head I imagined we looked just like the Muppets. In reality, we looked more like The Little Rascals who didn't realize how poor they actually were but could care less.

We lived in a cul de sac at the time and each house in the neighborhood had two or three children living there. They were all in attendance along with their most of their moms. The newspaper lady showed up and there was more buzz. Like a good host, mom served Kool-Aid. They watched as we put up our set on the back patio. Our instruments were in place. We had made a huge sign that said "CAN YOU PICTURE THAT" using some leftover wallpaper Dad donated and hung it behind us.

Soon the Channel 21 News van pulled into the driveway and a nervous hush fell over our yard. Are you kidding me, this was a big deal! None of us had ever been on the news or knew anyone who had and now all of that was about to change.

Jim Likens climbed out of the van along with his cameraman Rich Porter. They had a real TV camera! And one of those slates you write on and then slap shut when you yell "Action". These guys were professionals and they were in my yard!

Jim introduced himself and asked what we were going to do. I let him know we were going to sing a song. He put mics on Todd and me, something I totally didn't expect, I started the record and away we went. "Can you picture...can you picture that!" We sang along to the whole song and then Jim asked us to do it again. (Something else I never realized...music videos aren't shot all in one take. Who knew?)

He had us sing the song three or four more times. During one of the takes he stood in front of us and read my letter aloud. During another take he interviewed me while the rest of the gang played in the background. If you wonder when I knew I wanted to be a movie director, I can tell you the exact moment. Jim asked us to do the song again and we did, only this time, the energy was really low, and understandably so. My cast was getting bored. They were sick of the song, the novelty of the TV camera had worn off, and nothing exciting was happening.

We finished and Jim Likens asked if we'd do it one more time. It wasn't audible, but you could feel the gang as a whole inhale and let out a huge sigh. I was about to lose them. And that's when I stepped out from behind my bench and talked to my cast, my band, my fellow dreamers.

I had no idea what directors are supposed to say and I had never been in a locker room when the coach gives a pep talk to the team so I had nothing to work from; no sound bytes to steal.

"Ok, guys, I think this is the last time he's gonna have us do this so let's have fun. Let's pretend it's the first time we're doing it and really get into it. We're going to be on TV so when people see us they should know how much fun we're having."

Eat your heart out, Knute Rockne.

We filmed the last take and everyone really stepped up. We knocked it out of the park and I was so grateful to my pals who brought their game.

"Can you picture...can you picture that!!"

And that's when I knew what I really want to do is direct.

Jim Likens and Rich Porter left and our audience followed suit shortly after. The picture that ran in the paper the next day was Jim Likens kneeled in front of me, the microphone pointed at me and Rich Porter bent over getting the shot. In the foreground is The Band, looking on.

That night we all gathered in front of the TV to watch the 6:00 news. This took place long before VCRs were a household item, so we had to improvise. We all stood by the TV during the piece and Mom took our picture. Unfortunately, that's the only footage that survives of the segment. Years later I called the station's archives to get a copy and was told that they didn't keep any of the footage and it had all been disposed of long before.

As I look back, there is one moment that stands out among all the rest. A few hours after we had filmed our piece and everyone had left I found myself in the backyard. I was standing in the grass where I had been while being interviewed. I looked down and saw something bright yellow in the grass, about the size of a marshmallow. It was a piece of chalk; chalk that was used on the slate to write down info such as "Take 1, Scene 1". It is one of the few moments in my life I can truly call magical. I picked up the chalk and looked at it and felt like a kid in a fairy tale who just found a magic lamp.

I kept that piece of chalk for a long long time on my shelf. I would often look at it and just remember. Even though we had a number of photos that were taken on that day, it was almost like the chalk served as actual proof that day existed, it actually happened: I was on TV and got to live my dream of making people happy.

I Think I'm Dead

You know in the movies when people die but don't realize it because they're still walking around and can't figure out why people are ignoring them? And of course, no one looks or talks to them because they can't see dead people (unlike Haley Joel Osment)?

Today was one of those days because no less than four (4) times I was driving and right at the last possible second someone would pull out in front of me and make me slam on my brakes. At one point I believe I yelled "Am I dead or am I just driving a dead car?!"

Later on, though, a pretty girl smiled at me. So it turns out I'm not dead, just dreaming.

Menards!!

WARNING: I am about to ruin a store for you.

You may or may not have heard of the department store chain Menards (pronounced meh-NARDS), but it's pretty prevalent here in Indiana. There are commercials for it on TV all the time ("Menards!", "Save at Menards!!", "Check out Menards!").

Maybe I'm immature, but every time I hear the commercial and they scream "Menards!" I think a British guy just got kicked between the legs.

And now you will, too. You're welcome.

My Pennsylvania Top 10

As the time to move on to my next adventure gets closer, I've had quite a few friends ask me if I'm excited to make the return out East. In a word: Yes!! The hardest part is actually waiting to make the move in mid-June. But that's given me time to plan and plot, and as a result I present you with the

TOP TEN THINGS I'M GOING TO DO WHEN I GET BACK TO PENNSYLVANIA*

10. Go to IKEA
9. Find a coffee shop to write in (you have a lot to live up to, Pennsylvania Coffee Shops. I've become quite fond of my Brewdaily's Cafe, and have written four short films, a short story, and a lot of stand-up there).
8. Speaking of stand-up, find someplace to do that
7. Re-acquaint myself with the train to NYC
6. Have get-togethers of the movie-watching/karaoke/game playing/hanging out kind
5. Film that movie I wrote about a radio station 5 years ago
4. Find the Amish quaint and adorable until I am stuck behind a buggy while I am running late and then remember how much they slow me down
3. Finally get to hang out with people at JTL who weren't there when I was there last, but seem really cool online and in email
2. Hug Fred, Lisa, Stacey, John, Phil, Ann, Strayer, Mindy, Darlene, Trish, Linford, Mel, Tom, Ethan, Aubrey, the Ruoffs, the Grosses, and whoever else I may have forgotten or gets in my way.
1. Smile a lot





*My PA-area friends are more than welcome to join me on any/all of these adventures.

Cast List

Without giving too much away, I'd like to announce a confirmed cast of characters who will be appearing in one of four upcoming short films written and directed by Yours Truly. This of course is not a final cast list and I'm not saying who is appearing in what. I will say that they have been confirmed to appear in one of the following shorts: "The Failures of Ed," "The Heist," "The Coffee Shop," and/or "The Poker Game."

I'll keep you posted. I know I've been going on and on about these projects for some time with very little to show for it, so I'm hoping these random info tidbits will give you a bit of the fix you're jonesin' for.

Current projects cast roster (in alphabetical order)
David Beaman
Sarah Beaman
Alex Blowers
John Blowers
Lisa Blowers
Bob Boxell
Amy Hartman
Ben James
Mindy Lapp
Arni Placencia
Ed Placencia
Ray Placencia
Todd Sattison
Matt Stine

Gettin' Yelled At

Wow. Today I got yelled at. And I mean yelled at. I got yelled at like a man yells at a kid who broke his window with a baseball. I got yelled at by a bald fat white guy with a really hairy back wearing no shirt and a prancing around in a skimpy pair of black shorts. And man, did he yell at me.

Dad and I were painting a house today in a pretty nice neighborhood. We were painting the ceiling in the garage, so we moved the lawn mower and other assorted items out onto the driveway to keep them spatter-free. We went on to paint and at about 2 in the afternoon I went outside to put some stuff in the trash. I was approached by the aforementioned bald shirtless fat white guy with a hairy back and this was our conversation:

NO SHIRT: (already enraged) Hey!

ME: Yea?

NO SHIRT: Did you just mow the lawn?

ME: (confused) No.

NO SHIRT: (pointing to the lawn mower in the driveway) Well, that's out!

ME: Yea. I'm just the painter.

NO SHIRT: (screaming, face turning red) Well whoever mowed the lawn mowed on my property!!! And I am pissed off!! I have professionals in to mow my lawn and if you can't mow on your own property then I'm going to put a flag in the yard and paint a line down the property line!!! I am pissed off!!!

ME: I'm just the painter. I don't know anything about who mows their lawn.

NO SHIRT: Well then you tell them!! They're mowing on my property!!! This is my property!! You have--

And I couldn't help it. I laughed at the man. I didn't just snicker or suppress a giggle. I laughed at him. I laughed right in his face. I didn't do it on purpose. It's just that I was getting yelled at by a fat bald white guy wearing only tiny black shorts and doggonit, that's freakin' funny.

And he wasn't lying, he was pissed. I don't think my laughing at him helped. He stopped talking and just stared at me and I smiled and put my iPod ear buds back in my ears and turned and walked away.

About five minutes later he was out mowing his lawn (and I thought professionals mowed his lawn. Oh well). Every time I would come back out he would glare at me and I would smile because there was an almost-naked fat guy who looked like an Easter egg with a hairy back mowing the lawn.

Can't wait to see him tomorrow.