Walking home on Wednesday, I came upon a homeless dude on 59th and Columbus Circle holding a cardboard sign that read ...
NINJAS KILLED MY FAMILY. NEED MONEY FOR KARATE LESSONS!
Rock On,
Aitch
Friday, October 29, 2004
Thursday, October 28, 2004
i suck
So I got a call from my friend Ed the day of Game 7 between the Yanks and Bosox. "Q" is our friend who resides in Boston.
Ed - Can you believe this series?
Me - I know, it's unreal.
Ed - Q's coming in tonight for the game.
Me - Really? He got tickets?! How?
Ed - He just hammered the phone lines the day they went on sale.
Me - Cool, though to be honest, I think I'd rather watch it at home. What's it gonna be, like 40 degrees?
Ed - I hear ya.
Me - What kind of seats did he get?
Ed - Not very good - somewhere in the upper deck.
Me - Ouch. Especially sittin' up there. Probably about 10 degrees colder. I'd definitely rather see it at home.
Ed - I totally hear ya.
Me - And with the wind chill up there...it's gonna feel like 25.
Ed - Probably will.
Me - Wait, who's he going with?
Ed - Me
Ed - Can you believe this series?
Me - I know, it's unreal.
Ed - Q's coming in tonight for the game.
Me - Really? He got tickets?! How?
Ed - He just hammered the phone lines the day they went on sale.
Me - Cool, though to be honest, I think I'd rather watch it at home. What's it gonna be, like 40 degrees?
Ed - I hear ya.
Me - What kind of seats did he get?
Ed - Not very good - somewhere in the upper deck.
Me - Ouch. Especially sittin' up there. Probably about 10 degrees colder. I'd definitely rather see it at home.
Ed - I totally hear ya.
Me - And with the wind chill up there...it's gonna feel like 25.
Ed - Probably will.
Me - Wait, who's he going with?
Ed - Me
Friday, October 15, 2004
God Help Me - The Case of the Chewy Chicken
Quick mom story from her birthday lunch a few weeks ago - the players were me, Bronwen, my bro, his wife, their kid and mom - we go to a Cuban restaurant in Forest Hills - the baby wasn't feeling well so he was cranky and cried the whole time - makes for a special lunch
Anyway, at one point my mom asks Bronwen how she likes her dish (they ordered the same thing) - Bronwen says, "To be honest, the chicken's a little chewy."
My mom, who hadn't complained about it at all, says, "Yes, it is a little chewy isn't it?"
The rest of the meal, every ten minutes or so, she says, "This chicken is so chewy. I can barely eat it."
Towards the end, she catches the waitresses eye - the waitress whom by the way, barely spoke English - and called her over.
"I just want to tell you the chicken is chewy."
The waitress either didn't understand her or just didn't know what to say cause she just stood there.
Finally she said, "Chicken? Chewy?"
My mom continued, "Yes, the chicken is chewy. Just so you know, I come here a lot...and this is the first time the chicken's been chewy." She'd been there twice.
The waitress inquired," Do you want speak manager about chewy chicken?"
My mom continued, "Yes, please." The waitress walked away. My mom turned to me.
"Management should know that their chicken is chewy."
"I said. "Oh definitely, it's your civic duty." I felt the diameter of the hole in the lining of my stomach enlarging.
The manager walked over.
"Hi, I understand your chicken is chewy?"
"My mom replied, "Yes, hi, I just want to tell you that I come here a lot and my son's girlfriend and I both got this chicken dish...and we both think its very chewy. You may want to tell the chef."
"Okay, thank you, I certainly will, and sorry about the chewiness." The manager walked away.
"See how appreciative she was?" My mom said to me. "They want to hear things like this."
They ended up taking one of the chewy chicken dishes off the check, thereby further encouraging her for next time. Little did they know what they'd done. God help me.
Rock On,
Aitch
Anyway, at one point my mom asks Bronwen how she likes her dish (they ordered the same thing) - Bronwen says, "To be honest, the chicken's a little chewy."
My mom, who hadn't complained about it at all, says, "Yes, it is a little chewy isn't it?"
The rest of the meal, every ten minutes or so, she says, "This chicken is so chewy. I can barely eat it."
Towards the end, she catches the waitresses eye - the waitress whom by the way, barely spoke English - and called her over.
"I just want to tell you the chicken is chewy."
The waitress either didn't understand her or just didn't know what to say cause she just stood there.
Finally she said, "Chicken? Chewy?"
My mom continued, "Yes, the chicken is chewy. Just so you know, I come here a lot...and this is the first time the chicken's been chewy." She'd been there twice.
The waitress inquired," Do you want speak manager about chewy chicken?"
My mom continued, "Yes, please." The waitress walked away. My mom turned to me.
"Management should know that their chicken is chewy."
"I said. "Oh definitely, it's your civic duty." I felt the diameter of the hole in the lining of my stomach enlarging.
The manager walked over.
"Hi, I understand your chicken is chewy?"
"My mom replied, "Yes, hi, I just want to tell you that I come here a lot and my son's girlfriend and I both got this chicken dish...and we both think its very chewy. You may want to tell the chef."
"Okay, thank you, I certainly will, and sorry about the chewiness." The manager walked away.
"See how appreciative she was?" My mom said to me. "They want to hear things like this."
They ended up taking one of the chewy chicken dishes off the check, thereby further encouraging her for next time. Little did they know what they'd done. God help me.
Rock On,
Aitch
Friday, September 24, 2004
Why I am a Loser - Part 3,851
On August 24th, I submitted "I Was Middle-Aged Zombie" to several publications. Later that day, Jennifer Wood of Moviemaker Magazine wrote me. She asked for any pictures I had before she she to make a "final determination." I immediately sent her the pics.
Later that day - nothing.
The next day - nothing.
Two days later - nothing.
Needless to say, I was starting to wonder. Everytime my Lotus Notes lit up, I quickly looked to see if it was her. It never was. Every day I had to fight back the urge to write her. I mean, she wrote me RIGHT back after I initially queried her! What the heck was taking so long....either she likes it or not! After one week, I decided I could wait no longer. So, on September 2nd, I wrote her. Almost immediately, I got this reply -
"I will be out of the office from August 25th through September 10th...."
ack
Long story short, she wrote me back upon returning and told me she was busy with vacation and moving, but she will be in touch.
That was a week ago - my e-mail finger is getting twitchy again.
Rock On,
Aitch
Later that day - nothing.
The next day - nothing.
Two days later - nothing.
Needless to say, I was starting to wonder. Everytime my Lotus Notes lit up, I quickly looked to see if it was her. It never was. Every day I had to fight back the urge to write her. I mean, she wrote me RIGHT back after I initially queried her! What the heck was taking so long....either she likes it or not! After one week, I decided I could wait no longer. So, on September 2nd, I wrote her. Almost immediately, I got this reply -
"I will be out of the office from August 25th through September 10th...."
ack
Long story short, she wrote me back upon returning and told me she was busy with vacation and moving, but she will be in touch.
That was a week ago - my e-mail finger is getting twitchy again.
Rock On,
Aitch
Monday, August 30, 2004
A WONDERFUL Day on the Set
So when the director (Rick) of the zombie flick I was in (Stiffs by Sid) asked if I could come up to his place in Orange County this past Saturday to shoot a couple of additional scenes for his zombie flick I said, "Sure." As it turned out, it was just me him and the "star" of Stiffs by Sid, a dude by the name of Theo. As a sidenote, he didn't ask the other zombie because he wasn't very good. Thankfully my job had well prepared me to play a member of The Living Dead.
Rick told me that the make-up chick was on vaca so we'd just do our best with my makeup. I immediately pictured him accidentally spilling latex in my eye, me jumping out of the chair and into walls before going into convulsions and collapsing on the ground all the while screaming, "OH MY GOD!!! IT BURNS!! IT BURNS!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!
The closest metro-north train to Central Valley, where Rick lives, is in Tarrytown so I took the 3:00 Metro-North train in. Theo, coming from the Upper East Side, was also sposed to be on that train. I met Rick at the station. No Theo. Rick checks his cell and sees a message from Theo telling him that he missed the train, he'll be on the next one. We go to a local diner. We eat. We go back to the train to get Theo. The next train comes...and goes. Everyone is gone but us...no Theo. Rick calls Theo, who swears he is there but cant find us. We're right in the middle by the parking lot. Long story short, they actually called each other about five times.. I swear, I thought Theo was lying for some reason and was home laughing at us. As it turned out, he wasn't a lier...just a moron, and a big one at that.
Theo is about 5' 7" tall and weighs approx 260-280 pounds. And he doesn't carry it well...his gut protrudes WELL over his belt, ending somewhere around his knees. His first comment when we got in the car? "I'm famished. Do we have something to eat?" I tell him that we just ate and he asks if we have leftovers. Yeah, I couldn't finish my hamburger...idiot. Before we leave the parking lot he mentions food about five times, finally Rick tells him he has some chips and soda in the trunk. Naturally Theo's all over that, so Rick pulls over and gets his food. We start the 45 minute drive to Rick's and before we're ten minutes in, Theo says, "This is wonderful, but I'm gonna need something else. Can we stop somewhere? The only thing I ate all day were some Cheerios with blueberries."
I had flashbacks of my bud Joel, who is blessed with a similar build and always claimed he ate well. I would go to his place and Joel would tell me he had a salad for lunch. Then I'd open his fridge and find leftover pizza boxes...then open his freezer and find frozen pizzas stacked like gold at Fort Knox.
Also, you may also be struck by Theo's odd use of the word "wonderful." Don't be. He uses it in every sentence. Everything to him is wonderful. Here are some examples -
Upon passing an above ground pool - "Above ground pools are wonderful. I love the way it's the same depth all over. You don't have to worry about the bottom falling out under you."
Upon seeing the kitchen sink in Rick's house - "Oh my, this is wonderful. It's so deep, very splash resistant."
Upon seeing the size of the garbage under the sink - "This is just wonderful. You can really accumulate a lot of garbage before you have to replace it."
Upon seeing the kitchen "island" - "Will you look at that...wonderful, just wonderful...I'll bet three can work there at once."
Upon eating the fried mozzarella sticks and chicken tenders Rick made for him - "Perfect...really hit the spot...wonderful."
I can picture Theo on a double decker tour bus in Aushwitz, eating a bag of cheetos, looking around saying, "My, my...wonderful, just wonderful."
Later, while still driving, Theo asked Rick where we were going. Rick said to his place. Theo asked, "Oh, is that where the food is?"
We finally make it to Rick's - feed Theo - and change into our clothes for a cemetery scene. Since I was only needed to wander in the far distance, there was no need for any make-up. I wore a black polyester jacket, white polyester shirt and black wool pants. Did I mention it was about 87 with the humidity somewhere around 350%?
We drove to the cemetery, which of course according to Theo was "wonderful," and parked in a far corner. Thankfully no one was visiting so we had the run of the place. Which turned out to be good...very good. The scene had Theo talking to the camera while I wandered about in the distance. It's a good thing I wasn't wearing makeup because I would have sweated it all off. In addition, the mosquitos found me quickly. We did about twenty takes. Since I wasn't facing the camera during filming, and I was in the far distance, I couldn't see or hear when the scene ended. Rick had to yell a few time for me to stop walking. So I spent half my Saturday afternoon sweating in wool pants and a polyester jacket, holding my glasses, doing my zombie shuffle in a deserted cemetery while mosquitos bit the crap out of me. And I was doing this for fun.
The other scene filmed there was Theo driving off in a car with a Stiffs by Sid decal on the back. We ended up filming that scene several times. The first time Theo decided to try to turn around on the on the pathway where no one is meant to turn around. Yes, he backed into a tombstone. After that, he went all the way around each time which was fine by us.
The last scene of the day was filmed in Rick's backyard. He made a makeshift grave with tombstone. Deciding against attempting to apply latex to me, Rick gave me a rubber monster mask and rubber monster gloves. No, I'm not joking. I was then covered with fresh soil that Rick bought for the occasion, and a plank of wood. So there I laid (lied?), in a grave wearing my wool pants and polyester jacket covered with dirt, sweat and a plank of wood, trying to breathe thru the small hole in a rubber mask. If only my mom could see me then.
After finishing the scene, Rick insisted i take a shower while they filmed some voice over scenes without me. I didn't argue. We went in and I met Rick's wife, whom I dont think appreciates Rick's vision. When he put his camera on the "wonderful" island, his wife said, "Get that crap off there" - which Rick quickly did.
After finishing up, Rick told us his wife cooked enough dinner for us all in case we wanted to stay for dinner. I said, "Nah, thanks but I'm tired...wanna head back, appreciate it though." Theo had a different thought - "Harris, it would be rude if Mrs. Lavon made dinner for us to say no. The least we could do is eat it." Fine.
Naturally, everything she made was "wonderful," or so Theo said. In reality, the chicken was underdone and the potatoes were lumpy. After eating, Theo hugged her (I shook her hand) and we left with Rick, who drove us back to the train station.
All in all, I had a great time. I dont know if it came across in "I Was a Middle-Aged Zombie" but I genuinely liked Rick and was actually sorry that it was over. He did mention a possible screening for the flick whether it makes the festival or not so I'm already looking forward to that. Just before leaving, Rick slipped me (and Theo) an envelope which I later discovered contained $60 -so I've now made more playing a zombie than writing.
Rock On,
Aitch
Rick told me that the make-up chick was on vaca so we'd just do our best with my makeup. I immediately pictured him accidentally spilling latex in my eye, me jumping out of the chair and into walls before going into convulsions and collapsing on the ground all the while screaming, "OH MY GOD!!! IT BURNS!! IT BURNS!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!
The closest metro-north train to Central Valley, where Rick lives, is in Tarrytown so I took the 3:00 Metro-North train in. Theo, coming from the Upper East Side, was also sposed to be on that train. I met Rick at the station. No Theo. Rick checks his cell and sees a message from Theo telling him that he missed the train, he'll be on the next one. We go to a local diner. We eat. We go back to the train to get Theo. The next train comes...and goes. Everyone is gone but us...no Theo. Rick calls Theo, who swears he is there but cant find us. We're right in the middle by the parking lot. Long story short, they actually called each other about five times.. I swear, I thought Theo was lying for some reason and was home laughing at us. As it turned out, he wasn't a lier...just a moron, and a big one at that.
Theo is about 5' 7" tall and weighs approx 260-280 pounds. And he doesn't carry it well...his gut protrudes WELL over his belt, ending somewhere around his knees. His first comment when we got in the car? "I'm famished. Do we have something to eat?" I tell him that we just ate and he asks if we have leftovers. Yeah, I couldn't finish my hamburger...idiot. Before we leave the parking lot he mentions food about five times, finally Rick tells him he has some chips and soda in the trunk. Naturally Theo's all over that, so Rick pulls over and gets his food. We start the 45 minute drive to Rick's and before we're ten minutes in, Theo says, "This is wonderful, but I'm gonna need something else. Can we stop somewhere? The only thing I ate all day were some Cheerios with blueberries."
I had flashbacks of my bud Joel, who is blessed with a similar build and always claimed he ate well. I would go to his place and Joel would tell me he had a salad for lunch. Then I'd open his fridge and find leftover pizza boxes...then open his freezer and find frozen pizzas stacked like gold at Fort Knox.
Also, you may also be struck by Theo's odd use of the word "wonderful." Don't be. He uses it in every sentence. Everything to him is wonderful. Here are some examples -
Upon passing an above ground pool - "Above ground pools are wonderful. I love the way it's the same depth all over. You don't have to worry about the bottom falling out under you."
Upon seeing the kitchen sink in Rick's house - "Oh my, this is wonderful. It's so deep, very splash resistant."
Upon seeing the size of the garbage under the sink - "This is just wonderful. You can really accumulate a lot of garbage before you have to replace it."
Upon seeing the kitchen "island" - "Will you look at that...wonderful, just wonderful...I'll bet three can work there at once."
Upon eating the fried mozzarella sticks and chicken tenders Rick made for him - "Perfect...really hit the spot...wonderful."
I can picture Theo on a double decker tour bus in Aushwitz, eating a bag of cheetos, looking around saying, "My, my...wonderful, just wonderful."
Later, while still driving, Theo asked Rick where we were going. Rick said to his place. Theo asked, "Oh, is that where the food is?"
We finally make it to Rick's - feed Theo - and change into our clothes for a cemetery scene. Since I was only needed to wander in the far distance, there was no need for any make-up. I wore a black polyester jacket, white polyester shirt and black wool pants. Did I mention it was about 87 with the humidity somewhere around 350%?
We drove to the cemetery, which of course according to Theo was "wonderful," and parked in a far corner. Thankfully no one was visiting so we had the run of the place. Which turned out to be good...very good. The scene had Theo talking to the camera while I wandered about in the distance. It's a good thing I wasn't wearing makeup because I would have sweated it all off. In addition, the mosquitos found me quickly. We did about twenty takes. Since I wasn't facing the camera during filming, and I was in the far distance, I couldn't see or hear when the scene ended. Rick had to yell a few time for me to stop walking. So I spent half my Saturday afternoon sweating in wool pants and a polyester jacket, holding my glasses, doing my zombie shuffle in a deserted cemetery while mosquitos bit the crap out of me. And I was doing this for fun.
The other scene filmed there was Theo driving off in a car with a Stiffs by Sid decal on the back. We ended up filming that scene several times. The first time Theo decided to try to turn around on the on the pathway where no one is meant to turn around. Yes, he backed into a tombstone. After that, he went all the way around each time which was fine by us.
The last scene of the day was filmed in Rick's backyard. He made a makeshift grave with tombstone. Deciding against attempting to apply latex to me, Rick gave me a rubber monster mask and rubber monster gloves. No, I'm not joking. I was then covered with fresh soil that Rick bought for the occasion, and a plank of wood. So there I laid (lied?), in a grave wearing my wool pants and polyester jacket covered with dirt, sweat and a plank of wood, trying to breathe thru the small hole in a rubber mask. If only my mom could see me then.
After finishing the scene, Rick insisted i take a shower while they filmed some voice over scenes without me. I didn't argue. We went in and I met Rick's wife, whom I dont think appreciates Rick's vision. When he put his camera on the "wonderful" island, his wife said, "Get that crap off there" - which Rick quickly did.
After finishing up, Rick told us his wife cooked enough dinner for us all in case we wanted to stay for dinner. I said, "Nah, thanks but I'm tired...wanna head back, appreciate it though." Theo had a different thought - "Harris, it would be rude if Mrs. Lavon made dinner for us to say no. The least we could do is eat it." Fine.
Naturally, everything she made was "wonderful," or so Theo said. In reality, the chicken was underdone and the potatoes were lumpy. After eating, Theo hugged her (I shook her hand) and we left with Rick, who drove us back to the train station.
All in all, I had a great time. I dont know if it came across in "I Was a Middle-Aged Zombie" but I genuinely liked Rick and was actually sorry that it was over. He did mention a possible screening for the flick whether it makes the festival or not so I'm already looking forward to that. Just before leaving, Rick slipped me (and Theo) an envelope which I later discovered contained $60 -so I've now made more playing a zombie than writing.
Rock On,
Aitch
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Quaker/Irish Wedding
Man, I thought this was gonna make for an awesome entry - my girlfriend's brother (Irish) marrying a Quaker chick...but nothing exciting happened - just a good time - played out pretty much like a regular wedding...BUT....
I can see why my girlfriend told me she wouldn't have fit in when i asked her why she wasn't in wedding party - when i walked in and saw the bridesmaids together, i immediately thought of the Delta Mu's from Revenge of the Nerd's..what she meant was that she wouldn't fit...not fit in.
Funniest thing never actually happened - Upon entering the bride's house, there was what I thought (and my girlfriend thought the same thing was a protective "runway" so one doesn't walk on their carpet that extended thru their living room...thankfully I didn't use it as it turns out, it was the wedding dress...now THAT woulda been funny...i could see her dress getting all wrinkled with sparkly things broken or hanging off (just imagine sparkly things) and her pointing at me throughout the night whenever talking to yet another one of her relatives or friends.
As per their Church's tradition, there is a moment of silent prayer during the service during which time anyone can get up and say something to the bride and groom - i implored my girlfriend to get up...she impored me not to - after a few uncomfortably silent minutes, someone got up and babbled something like "Best of Wishes to both of you...Welcome to the family"...after a couple more hours (or so it seemed) the brides kilt-wearing brother (he played the bagpipes while people entered the church...no one even thought they were Scottish...i think he just likes wearing a dress) got up and blubbered how much he loves his sister...thankfully he was too choked up to say much else - he's in his late 20's and i heard him remarking later in the evening how this was one of his "most fun night's ever"...When I asked him his other "most fun night's ever", he told me that one was when he won a bingo pot at the weekly church social, another was when his parents let him feed the family goose by himself (they do have geese), and the other was when he ate a jawbreaker
i was seated at table with groom and bride's parents - I was opposite Quaker Dad - he looked a little like King Tut from Batman TV show - Since he was opposite me, he kept staring at me...of course it made me look more...and we ended up getting into staring contests (he won as his "look" frightened me)
Quaker Dad did drink Champagne during toast - i think his anti-alcohol harangue prior to wedding was just cause he didn't wanna pay for alcohol...and i guess it worked as it was a cash bar - good thing i'm a lightweight (though Merlot at $3.25 a glass, I was tempted to take a few glasses home)
They had a DJ who played all the normal wedding crap (though thankfully the macarena didn't make an appearance)...the dancing was whiter than white...My girlfriend was the only person there with much rythym...i just wound her up and sent her on the floor pretty much...actually, i felt like Donna Pescow to her John Travolta....we'd be dancing and then eventually, I'd feel out of my league and just stop and head for the sideline and watch her dance - it took her a half hour to realize i was no longer there.
Instead of clinking glasses to make them kiss, each table was supposed to come up with a song that featured the word 'love' in it, at which time, they were sposed to kiss...my table ended up singing The Love Boat Theme after they rejected my idea..."I Used to Love Her" by Guns and Roses, which starts "I used to love her, but i had to kill her...I had to put her...six feet under...but I can still still hear her complain" - no, i didn't see if Quaker Dad was singing, but I'd pay good money to see him sing my song solo
Anyway, that was it...good time...no great stories...i am hopeful for my next trip as I may be taking a day off in the next couple of weeks to go to prison
Rock On,
Aitch
I can see why my girlfriend told me she wouldn't have fit in when i asked her why she wasn't in wedding party - when i walked in and saw the bridesmaids together, i immediately thought of the Delta Mu's from Revenge of the Nerd's..what she meant was that she wouldn't fit...not fit in.
Funniest thing never actually happened - Upon entering the bride's house, there was what I thought (and my girlfriend thought the same thing was a protective "runway" so one doesn't walk on their carpet that extended thru their living room...thankfully I didn't use it as it turns out, it was the wedding dress...now THAT woulda been funny...i could see her dress getting all wrinkled with sparkly things broken or hanging off (just imagine sparkly things) and her pointing at me throughout the night whenever talking to yet another one of her relatives or friends.
As per their Church's tradition, there is a moment of silent prayer during the service during which time anyone can get up and say something to the bride and groom - i implored my girlfriend to get up...she impored me not to - after a few uncomfortably silent minutes, someone got up and babbled something like "Best of Wishes to both of you...Welcome to the family"...after a couple more hours (or so it seemed) the brides kilt-wearing brother (he played the bagpipes while people entered the church...no one even thought they were Scottish...i think he just likes wearing a dress) got up and blubbered how much he loves his sister...thankfully he was too choked up to say much else - he's in his late 20's and i heard him remarking later in the evening how this was one of his "most fun night's ever"...When I asked him his other "most fun night's ever", he told me that one was when he won a bingo pot at the weekly church social, another was when his parents let him feed the family goose by himself (they do have geese), and the other was when he ate a jawbreaker
i was seated at table with groom and bride's parents - I was opposite Quaker Dad - he looked a little like King Tut from Batman TV show - Since he was opposite me, he kept staring at me...of course it made me look more...and we ended up getting into staring contests (he won as his "look" frightened me)
Quaker Dad did drink Champagne during toast - i think his anti-alcohol harangue prior to wedding was just cause he didn't wanna pay for alcohol...and i guess it worked as it was a cash bar - good thing i'm a lightweight (though Merlot at $3.25 a glass, I was tempted to take a few glasses home)
They had a DJ who played all the normal wedding crap (though thankfully the macarena didn't make an appearance)...the dancing was whiter than white...My girlfriend was the only person there with much rythym...i just wound her up and sent her on the floor pretty much...actually, i felt like Donna Pescow to her John Travolta....we'd be dancing and then eventually, I'd feel out of my league and just stop and head for the sideline and watch her dance - it took her a half hour to realize i was no longer there.
Instead of clinking glasses to make them kiss, each table was supposed to come up with a song that featured the word 'love' in it, at which time, they were sposed to kiss...my table ended up singing The Love Boat Theme after they rejected my idea..."I Used to Love Her" by Guns and Roses, which starts "I used to love her, but i had to kill her...I had to put her...six feet under...but I can still still hear her complain" - no, i didn't see if Quaker Dad was singing, but I'd pay good money to see him sing my song solo
Anyway, that was it...good time...no great stories...i am hopeful for my next trip as I may be taking a day off in the next couple of weeks to go to prison
Rock On,
Aitch
Friday, July 9, 2004
In My Own World
A few months ago, Bronwen and I went to a bar/club called Chetty Red to check out a band that was performing a WonkOpera - doing rock versions of the songs from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. After they finished their set we were walking out when I saw Dave Attell sitting at the bar. Attell is the host of Comedy Central's Insomniac, and one of my fave comedians. Bronwen said I should talk to him.
"Why?"
"Because you like him."
"So? What am I gonna say...'Uhhh, Dave, I just wanna say that I like you?'"
"Yes," Bronwen replied way too seriously, "That would be a fine icebreaker. Then offer to buy him a beer..."
"Offer to buy him - I don't have enough conversation for a beer with friends, much less someone I don't know. What the heck are we gonna talk about?"
"I dunno..talk about where he's from...how long he's been in the business before he made it...you'll think of something. C'mon, maybe you'll make a connection."
"Not happening ...can we just go?"
"Not until you go over."
"Look," I said while pointing in Dave's direction, "He's talking to someone...let's just go."
"I can't believe what a chicken you are."
"We've been going out for a year...you should know by now that I'm a chicken...besides, ...I just don't see the point."
"The point is you'll meet someone you think is funny and maybe, you'll make a connection."
"Can we go?"
"Not until you go over."
"I'm not going over."
"Chicken."
"I already told you, I know I'm a chicken, but that's not even why I don't wanna go over."
"Well, I'm not leaving till you go over...even if just to say 'Hi'."
"Fine!"
"Umm, hi, Dave? Sorry to bother you...but I just wanted to tell you that I really like you...I mean your show. I really like your show," I stammered as Dave turned towards me.
"Thanks...I appreciate it," he replied between drags on his cigarette.
"I also saw you at Caroline's a couple weeks ago...great stuff."
"Thanks again...you wanna join us? This is Fred...he's a comic too."
"Hi, Harris," I said.
"Hi, " Fred replied. I extending my hand and then motioned to the bartender for a beer. "Either of you need another?" They both shook their bottles and then their heads.
"I can really use some sorbet."
Upon handing me the beer from the bartender Dave said, "Fred and I were just discussing a sitcom idea that we wanna work on together and pitch to Comedy Central."
"Really?" I squealed, much louder and tinnier than I'd have liked. Lowering my voice I continued, "Well, if there are stunts involved and you need a double, I'm here for ya."
"That's funny...you do look kinda like me...a used book store owner version."
"You picked me out of the audience and said the exact same thing at Caroline's."
Dave looked at Fred and said, "At least now I'm stealing material from myself."
"You want some sorbet?"
"So what's the sitcom about?" I inquired.
"It's basically about my real life...a widowed dad trying to raise his teenage daughter the best he knows how." I looked at him suspiciously.
"Okay, it's actually gonna be about a comedian who tries to juggle his family and career on the road."
"Put in a domineering mother in and you've got Romano's show," I threw in.
Ed perked up. "We're hoping to promote Dave as the anti-Romano. You know, coarse, unkempt, very sarcastic - "
"It's gonna be quite a stretch for me acting-wise," Dave interjected, and then took another drag on his cigarette.
"Why don't you also give your character a drinking problem? That way all your booze will be on the network's tab."
Dave's eyes lit up. "Hey, that's not a bad idea." He turned to Fred. "Then I can also make them pay for my visits to Betty Ford." He looked back towards me. "...And sue them for making me into a drunk. You got any other ideas?"
"Well, I would put in a sex-obsessed grandmother who isn't Bea Arthur and a precocious child who's vocabulary is well beyond their years." We chuckled.
"Yeah, maybe I should have a gay black best friend as well. If I'm gonna sell out, I may as well go all the way."
"Besides, It would suck if you sold out and the show got cancelled after three episodes," I added.
"Hello? Do you want sorbet?"
"Like he would care," Ed interjected, "He'd get a gig on one of his friends' shows...I'm the one who should worry -I'd be back to eating all my meals at Bob's Big Boy's and opening for Carrot Top at The Funny Factory in Topeka."
"I got a sure fire way to have a hit - get Paris Hilton to star as your daughter...and maybe Ashton Kutscher to play your son."
Ed piped in, "Too bad you can't use extortion to get her compliance since everyone already has naked pictures of her."
"Maybe I can ply her with alcohol and seduce her, " Dave added, "Then you can take pictures of us...now THOSE would be pictures she wouldn't want to get out."
"Anyway, I should be gettin' back to my girlfriend. It was nice meeting you guys."
"Before I started walking away, Dave spoke up. "Ya know, we're gonna need some help writing the scripts." Ed nodded. Dave continued, "Would you have any interest in meeting with us to throw ideas around?"
"Are you serious?" I screeched, my voice almost cracking. Playing it cool just wasn't in my repertoire.
"Sure, you seem like a bright funny dude...can't be surrounded by enough of them...right Ed?"
"I agree. Do you have any experience writing sitcoms?"
"No."
"Good.. He'll work cheap," Ed said while looking at Dave. We all chuckled.
"Harris! DOOOO YOOOOOU WAAAAANT SORBET?!!" I immediately stopped walking turned towards Bronwen, who had stopped walking about five seconds ago and was standing by the entrance of the corner deli.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fast forward to last week - Rob and I went to The Moth, where people get up to tell a story around a theme chosen in advance. Yesterday's theme was "Liars" - whatever. People who want to get up put their name in a hat - 10 people get selected and they have 5 minutes to tell their story, after which their story is judged by volunteers from the audience and the top scores win. Whatever. They do get some famous people to get up along with the hoi polloi (people like Margaret Cho, Spalding Gray, Ethan Hawke, Rosie O'Donnell, Jim Bouton, etc)...got the idea?
Anyway, the host was McSweeney's fave and author of Loser Goes First (a quick, funny read if anyone cares), Dan Kennedy. He's also the editor of www.reallysmalltalk.com, the site I just got that little Subway Story posted. I had never met Dan but thought maybe I should.
"You think I should?"
"Of course...you already have something to talk about. This is a perfect time..you have fifteen minutes for intermission...you can certainly talk for fifteen minutes!"
"Yeah, that doesn't seem too bad."
"And you have something to talk about!"
"I do, don't I."
"If you don't go up, I will."
"Huh? What are you gonna say?"
"I'll point you out and tell him that he just posted one of your stories on his site."
"No, you won't," I said threateningly. We stared at each other in silence for a few seconds then he made a motion to get up.
I immediately sprang to my feet and exclaimed, "Okay, okay...I'll go say 'Hi'."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, thank you." He plopped back down. I walked uneasily to the bar area, where Dan was hanging out. I started to sweat.
When I got to Dan, he was at the bar talking to one of the "storytellers", Mark Katz, who worked in the oval office during the Clinton admin and worked for Gore as well (I knew from his story).
"Hi, Dan? Hi, I'm Harris Bloom. I wrote -- "
"Oh yeah...Subway Story guy! Nice to meet you"
"Yeah! That's me." I was pleasantly surprised he remembered my name. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
"Nice to put the face with the writing." He turned to Mark. "Mark, this is Harris...Harris, Mark."
"Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you." Mark drank his beer, Dan, drank what appeared to be soda, and looked into the audience. I hadn't brought my drink over, so I just crossed my arms.
Eventually, Dan turned to Mark and said, "Anyway, I got the meeting with Sony next week."
Mark replied, "Good luck with that...I may have a meeting with Kerry's people." I stood there with my arms folded, nodding my head every so often to make it appear to anyone watching me from behind that I was talking.
Dan - "I think you'll have your work cut out for you there. Making him appear funny may prove harder than Gore" I looked at Mark.
Mark - "Yeah, we'll see...did you see Jimmy last night?" I looked at Dan.
Dan - "Nah...missed him. We were long gone by the time he got there. Why, what'd he say happened?" I looked at Mark.
Mark - "You know Jimmy...he got totally trashed and ended up getting kicked out." Dan shook his head and smiled a knowing smile. I smiled an unknowing and nervous smile.
They took a another sip. I continued to stand there with arms crossed.
Dan looked at his bottle and asked Mark," Want another? I looked at Mark.
"No, I'm cool."
Dan looked at me. "Can I buy you one?"
"No, I got one at my table, thanks." Dan turned to the bar and waited for the bartender to notice him. Mark and I stood in silence, him drinking his beer, and me with my arms folded trying to think of something to say. I felt sweat dripping down my back.
After a minute I said, "Your story was funny."
"Thanks." More silence. We looked into the crowd. They mocked us with seemingly free-flowing conversations and intermittent laughter.
Dan, new soda in hand, rejoined us, looked at me and asked, "Do you think it would be rude if I got back onstage and read a newspaper." I had no idea how to reply.
Feeling pressure to say something I replied, "Slightly." After that, silence reigned again. They drank...I stuck with my Mr. Clean impersonation.
"So how was your LA trip?" Mark asked. I looked at Dan.
"It was fun...did a reading....met up with some friends. Weren't you out there recently?" I looked at Mark.
"No, not since December..or maybe January."
Feeling more than slightly stupid, I spoke up, "Well, it was nice meeting you both...maybe I'll submit something else soon."
Dan responded, "Good to meet you too...and sure, anytime."
I walked back to Rob.
"Look at you!" he cried out. "You da man!!!"
Dripping with flopsweat, I reached for the beer in front of me. It was empty, naturally.
Yeah, I'm da man.
Rock On,
Aitch
"Why?"
"Because you like him."
"So? What am I gonna say...'Uhhh, Dave, I just wanna say that I like you?'"
"Yes," Bronwen replied way too seriously, "That would be a fine icebreaker. Then offer to buy him a beer..."
"Offer to buy him - I don't have enough conversation for a beer with friends, much less someone I don't know. What the heck are we gonna talk about?"
"I dunno..talk about where he's from...how long he's been in the business before he made it...you'll think of something. C'mon, maybe you'll make a connection."
"Not happening ...can we just go?"
"Not until you go over."
"Look," I said while pointing in Dave's direction, "He's talking to someone...let's just go."
"I can't believe what a chicken you are."
"We've been going out for a year...you should know by now that I'm a chicken...besides, ...I just don't see the point."
"The point is you'll meet someone you think is funny and maybe, you'll make a connection."
"Can we go?"
"Not until you go over."
"I'm not going over."
"Chicken."
"I already told you, I know I'm a chicken, but that's not even why I don't wanna go over."
"Well, I'm not leaving till you go over...even if just to say 'Hi'."
"Fine!"
"Umm, hi, Dave? Sorry to bother you...but I just wanted to tell you that I really like you...I mean your show. I really like your show," I stammered as Dave turned towards me.
"Thanks...I appreciate it," he replied between drags on his cigarette.
"I also saw you at Caroline's a couple weeks ago...great stuff."
"Thanks again...you wanna join us? This is Fred...he's a comic too."
"Hi, Harris," I said.
"Hi, " Fred replied. I extending my hand and then motioned to the bartender for a beer. "Either of you need another?" They both shook their bottles and then their heads.
"I can really use some sorbet."
Upon handing me the beer from the bartender Dave said, "Fred and I were just discussing a sitcom idea that we wanna work on together and pitch to Comedy Central."
"Really?" I squealed, much louder and tinnier than I'd have liked. Lowering my voice I continued, "Well, if there are stunts involved and you need a double, I'm here for ya."
"That's funny...you do look kinda like me...a used book store owner version."
"You picked me out of the audience and said the exact same thing at Caroline's."
Dave looked at Fred and said, "At least now I'm stealing material from myself."
"You want some sorbet?"
"So what's the sitcom about?" I inquired.
"It's basically about my real life...a widowed dad trying to raise his teenage daughter the best he knows how." I looked at him suspiciously.
"Okay, it's actually gonna be about a comedian who tries to juggle his family and career on the road."
"Put in a domineering mother in and you've got Romano's show," I threw in.
Ed perked up. "We're hoping to promote Dave as the anti-Romano. You know, coarse, unkempt, very sarcastic - "
"It's gonna be quite a stretch for me acting-wise," Dave interjected, and then took another drag on his cigarette.
"Why don't you also give your character a drinking problem? That way all your booze will be on the network's tab."
Dave's eyes lit up. "Hey, that's not a bad idea." He turned to Fred. "Then I can also make them pay for my visits to Betty Ford." He looked back towards me. "...And sue them for making me into a drunk. You got any other ideas?"
"Well, I would put in a sex-obsessed grandmother who isn't Bea Arthur and a precocious child who's vocabulary is well beyond their years." We chuckled.
"Yeah, maybe I should have a gay black best friend as well. If I'm gonna sell out, I may as well go all the way."
"Besides, It would suck if you sold out and the show got cancelled after three episodes," I added.
"Hello? Do you want sorbet?"
"Like he would care," Ed interjected, "He'd get a gig on one of his friends' shows...I'm the one who should worry -I'd be back to eating all my meals at Bob's Big Boy's and opening for Carrot Top at The Funny Factory in Topeka."
"I got a sure fire way to have a hit - get Paris Hilton to star as your daughter...and maybe Ashton Kutscher to play your son."
Ed piped in, "Too bad you can't use extortion to get her compliance since everyone already has naked pictures of her."
"Maybe I can ply her with alcohol and seduce her, " Dave added, "Then you can take pictures of us...now THOSE would be pictures she wouldn't want to get out."
"Anyway, I should be gettin' back to my girlfriend. It was nice meeting you guys."
"Before I started walking away, Dave spoke up. "Ya know, we're gonna need some help writing the scripts." Ed nodded. Dave continued, "Would you have any interest in meeting with us to throw ideas around?"
"Are you serious?" I screeched, my voice almost cracking. Playing it cool just wasn't in my repertoire.
"Sure, you seem like a bright funny dude...can't be surrounded by enough of them...right Ed?"
"I agree. Do you have any experience writing sitcoms?"
"No."
"Good.. He'll work cheap," Ed said while looking at Dave. We all chuckled.
"Harris! DOOOO YOOOOOU WAAAAANT SORBET?!!" I immediately stopped walking turned towards Bronwen, who had stopped walking about five seconds ago and was standing by the entrance of the corner deli.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fast forward to last week - Rob and I went to The Moth, where people get up to tell a story around a theme chosen in advance. Yesterday's theme was "Liars" - whatever. People who want to get up put their name in a hat - 10 people get selected and they have 5 minutes to tell their story, after which their story is judged by volunteers from the audience and the top scores win. Whatever. They do get some famous people to get up along with the hoi polloi (people like Margaret Cho, Spalding Gray, Ethan Hawke, Rosie O'Donnell, Jim Bouton, etc)...got the idea?
Anyway, the host was McSweeney's fave and author of Loser Goes First (a quick, funny read if anyone cares), Dan Kennedy. He's also the editor of www.reallysmalltalk.com, the site I just got that little Subway Story posted. I had never met Dan but thought maybe I should.
"You think I should?"
"Of course...you already have something to talk about. This is a perfect time..you have fifteen minutes for intermission...you can certainly talk for fifteen minutes!"
"Yeah, that doesn't seem too bad."
"And you have something to talk about!"
"I do, don't I."
"If you don't go up, I will."
"Huh? What are you gonna say?"
"I'll point you out and tell him that he just posted one of your stories on his site."
"No, you won't," I said threateningly. We stared at each other in silence for a few seconds then he made a motion to get up.
I immediately sprang to my feet and exclaimed, "Okay, okay...I'll go say 'Hi'."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, thank you." He plopped back down. I walked uneasily to the bar area, where Dan was hanging out. I started to sweat.
When I got to Dan, he was at the bar talking to one of the "storytellers", Mark Katz, who worked in the oval office during the Clinton admin and worked for Gore as well (I knew from his story).
"Hi, Dan? Hi, I'm Harris Bloom. I wrote -- "
"Oh yeah...Subway Story guy! Nice to meet you"
"Yeah! That's me." I was pleasantly surprised he remembered my name. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
"Nice to put the face with the writing." He turned to Mark. "Mark, this is Harris...Harris, Mark."
"Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you." Mark drank his beer, Dan, drank what appeared to be soda, and looked into the audience. I hadn't brought my drink over, so I just crossed my arms.
Eventually, Dan turned to Mark and said, "Anyway, I got the meeting with Sony next week."
Mark replied, "Good luck with that...I may have a meeting with Kerry's people." I stood there with my arms folded, nodding my head every so often to make it appear to anyone watching me from behind that I was talking.
Dan - "I think you'll have your work cut out for you there. Making him appear funny may prove harder than Gore" I looked at Mark.
Mark - "Yeah, we'll see...did you see Jimmy last night?" I looked at Dan.
Dan - "Nah...missed him. We were long gone by the time he got there. Why, what'd he say happened?" I looked at Mark.
Mark - "You know Jimmy...he got totally trashed and ended up getting kicked out." Dan shook his head and smiled a knowing smile. I smiled an unknowing and nervous smile.
They took a another sip. I continued to stand there with arms crossed.
Dan looked at his bottle and asked Mark," Want another? I looked at Mark.
"No, I'm cool."
Dan looked at me. "Can I buy you one?"
"No, I got one at my table, thanks." Dan turned to the bar and waited for the bartender to notice him. Mark and I stood in silence, him drinking his beer, and me with my arms folded trying to think of something to say. I felt sweat dripping down my back.
After a minute I said, "Your story was funny."
"Thanks." More silence. We looked into the crowd. They mocked us with seemingly free-flowing conversations and intermittent laughter.
Dan, new soda in hand, rejoined us, looked at me and asked, "Do you think it would be rude if I got back onstage and read a newspaper." I had no idea how to reply.
Feeling pressure to say something I replied, "Slightly." After that, silence reigned again. They drank...I stuck with my Mr. Clean impersonation.
"So how was your LA trip?" Mark asked. I looked at Dan.
"It was fun...did a reading....met up with some friends. Weren't you out there recently?" I looked at Mark.
"No, not since December..or maybe January."
Feeling more than slightly stupid, I spoke up, "Well, it was nice meeting you both...maybe I'll submit something else soon."
Dan responded, "Good to meet you too...and sure, anytime."
I walked back to Rob.
"Look at you!" he cried out. "You da man!!!"
Dripping with flopsweat, I reached for the beer in front of me. It was empty, naturally.
Yeah, I'm da man.
Rock On,
Aitch
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