Official Trailer (until we change it)

Official Website

Sarah Palin: The Russia Question

Unbelievably embarrassing. Not only for her and her campaign but our entire election system. The rest of the interview is even worse. I'm moving to Italy. Gonna buy a sack of olive seeds and start growing EVOO. Drink wine. Eat cheese. Say italian stuff to Leah as we zip around on a Vespa. I can't handle this madness.


Read all the comments on this video here.

A Romance in Lower Mathematics

My friend, colleague, fellow olympian, Paul Smiley shared this gem with me. You will be glad that you spent 600 seconds watching this retro delight. Enjoy.

BoomFoxy

In Heaven, next to the bouncing elephants, there are herds of these guys filling the streets with their hi-fi foxy tunes.

Yearbook Yourself

A co-worker shared this website with me. It's amazing. You upload a pic of yourself and this magical time machine transports you to another era. So... go yearbook yourself right this moment and email me your favorite. I want to post them here so we can all enjoy. So if I could make you do this I would. But I can't. Legally. Or technically. If not for me then do it for Marty McFly.


ps. our power came back on today (sunday) at noon. one full week sans 'lectric.

Time-Space Travelers:
I can't figure out how to put names beside the pics. So...sorry.

I Promise You...

Monday, after cleaning up the explosion of tree guts irresponsibly splashed all over our neighborhood, Banjo Boyd and I drove deep into Kentuckyland. We dropped off our freshly finished documentary "film" in a trendy little neighborhood in Louisville. It's a freshman film festival that had over four-hundred films submitted. The home office is a bridal shop. The best part of the trip (besides singing songs the whole way down and back) was going to Lonnie's Best of Chicago. They specialize in all beef delights that I guess hail from the WindyCity. They gave us samples of hot and sloppy italian beef in tiny cups and thought nothing of giving us a fork. I almost drank the juice it was so good. Anyways... we found out our "film" was accepted. It's the story of our travels from Jerusalem, Ohio to Emmaus, PA. We set out trying to find out if God still walks with folks and found out that he does. It's going to be fascinating to find out (this post has a lotta F words) what strangers think of us and our story. But here are a few things I promise...

1. When I win an OscarEmmy I will never EVER forget all you small, borderline insignificant people.

2. I will sign as many autographs as you want as long as you're not selling them on ebay. Unless I get a cut. Then it's game on.

3. I will never EVER move to France to avoid the press.

4. I will never allow Entertainment Television to exploit you just to produce my True Hollywood Story. I will protect you like a junkyard dog.

5. I will get you backstage tickets for U2. I will fight for you like Celine Dion fights for love.

6. I will share my yacht.....with other famous people. Not you. Get real.

7. I will never dangle my children from a balcony unless they're super into it and promise not to get dropped.

8. I will probably hire someone to kill and stuff a bear and tell Entertainment Television that I totally did it.

9. I will build Leah a bowling alley in our basement. A promise I made on our wedding day.

10. I will dance like no one is watching. I hope you will too. I hope you dance.

Stop the Madness

Well, we still don't have power. Work does. So I'm back. Here. Changing the world and all that. I went out for a bike ride yesterday. Saw some craziness. Murdered trees everywhere. Telephone poles with broken backs. 24 hour restaurants made liars. But, the craziest thing I saw was this billboard. An egg dreams of getting slapped between salty dead pigs and processed cheese to get devoured by human beings? I don't think so, Clark. An egg wants to grow up and become a freaking chicken. It wants to run around the barnyard peckin' at stuff. I'm guessing it might want to court a proud (but humble) rooster. I'm no animal activist (I eat most all of them), but out of all the madness I saw strewn about the city this billboard shocked me the most. I love McMuffins as much if not more than the next guy, but I'm not going to wax poetic that the baby egg gave its life because it dreamed of one day being in my belly. That's crazy talk.

Dance Dance Revolution

My old buddy Dwayne Dallas Wilson sent this video to me. He thought it'd be a good one to incorporate at the Vineyard. He has an eye for these kinds of things. By that I mean an eye for excellence, style, sass, top notch poppin' and/or lockin'. Check it.

Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog

This may be old news. I have no idea. I just found it. And oh man, it's good gravy. You better believe I'm going to figure out a way to copy this idea for work. Neil Patrick Harris is so good. If you don't watch him on "How I Met Your Mother" you so should....dude. Anyways, here's a clip from Dr. Horrible. You can watch the whole thing here if you want. But please, do yourself a favor and at least watch this entire clip. That means you, Leah. It's long and it'll probably take awhile to load and you have to watch an ad...but it's worth it. Promise.

Jesus Is My Friend

Simply amazing...

Lipstick On Both Sides of the Mouth

This is amazing. Thanks to my cousin Nat (one of my favorite people on the earth planet) for sharing this with me today.

M.Damon on S.Palin

Turns out Matt Damon and I have more in common than our on again off again relationship with Benji Affleck. Since the RNC I've had this nervous, weird feeling about the choice of Gov. Palin as VP but didn't have the words for it. Jason Bourne does though and they're a perfect mix of funny but true observations. His Disney comments are spot on and I love how they make the interviewer crack up. Check it.

Joke Teller

Yesterday I commented on two bloggies using Mitch Hedberg jokes. I haven't thought of Mitch in awhile. Then out of nowhere he was very relevant to my Tuesday. So on this fine Wednesday I watched my old friend on the youtube and remembered why were such good friends. The guy's a genius. My roommates and I seriously spent a couple years in college talking incessantly like Mitch Hedberg. I bet I went days at a time never sounding like Brad. No wonder we had a small, tight knit group of friendos.

We Got Trouble

America is in trouble, folks. Leah and I went to dinner last night at a small, cafe/bar where the locals gather to sing karaoke, watch their friends' cover bands, drink American beer, eat double decker sandwiches and play the skeet bowling machine with their kids. This place even has an ice cream treat dispenser next to the dart boards. The interior is covered in wood paneling, the lighting fixtures are all different and most of the servers wear sweat shorts. It's a classic dive with all the fixings. But they're in trouble. Something is awry in their kitchen. Maybe it's energy costs or cut backs or downsizing but they are unable to heat their meatballs up to an edible temperature. My sandwich came out with freezing cold balls of meat covered in lukewarm sauce. I walked the sandwich up the bar (the server might've been in the back wiping crumbs off her sweats) and alerted them. The bartender/owner apologized profusely. Promised me the next sandwich was on them. Strange thing to say I thought. Fifteen minutes later the sandwich comes out. This time the bread is bronzed and scalding hot- obvious that it sat in an oven. I looked at Leah who was long finished with her Turkey Club, smiled at my plate of redemption, and sunk my teeth into freezing cold balls of meat in lukewarm sauce. Again. This lovely cafe must not be plugged into the power grid. They must have inane robots for cooks who work for pennies but know nothing about meatballs and how delicious they can be even at room temperature. Because if there were humans above the age of five working back there they certainly wouldn't have failed twice. To send out cold balls once, let alone twice, leaves one baffled and nervous. And hungry. They were shocked that I didn't want them try a third time.

This hometown cafe is in trouble, folks. I can only hope our next president can do something. Give them the education they need to learn about microwaves. Give them the funds they need to staff their kitchen with human beings who have brains and opposable thumbs so they can turn their ovens and microwaves on. That's hope we can dream in. Dream on? Dreams we can change on? Believe with? Gotta work on the catchphrase. The future of 'Merica rests in our meatballs. Thank you. Good night and good luck.

RFL 9/08

Vacation is coming to a close. It was a magically delicious week. There was a good mix of hard work and total relaxation. Took Dr. Jackson for a boat cruise. She wanted to jump in and retrieve every floating leaf or stick we passed. In addition to ripping up the deck, I also destroyed a set of bunk beds that were built to sleep overweight grizzly bears. MACBB (mothers against collapsing bunk beds) would've been proud of the nail-happy architects of these beds. They would not have been proud of the architect's decision to forgo a safety rail. Back when Shep was just a pup I fell out of the top bunk and cracked my head open. Still have the scar in the back of my head. I slept in that bunk room until I married Leah. Lots of memories. Lots of late night talks with Brenty. But he and his wife need a room. Putting newlyweds in bunk beds is just flat out cruel. It'd be like sending a cured diabetic into a candy store with zero dollars. Newlyweds like candy. S'all I'm saying.

The only way this week could get any better is if I could take tomorrow off as well and watch the Bucks beat up on the Bobkittens and my Bearcats take on the Boomer Sooners. And because I have the greatest boss ever, that's exactly what I'm gonna do. Glory be.

Truckstop Street Team

The past few weeks of politics have been fascinating. I watched as a NFL stadium filled with TGI Fridays servers who wear their love for Obama anywhere there's room for a button. I watched that guy from Law and Order bumble his way thru an extremely awkward speech a couple days ago. I watched Gov. Pallin talk about being a hockey mom. I've made statements to Leah about how it just seems like it's going to an Obama blow out. But then we went to the Rocky Fork Truckstop for breakfast and ate beside the unauthorized McCain Street Team. These two roughneck dudes (I don't say that as a slam, they were covered in the grit and gravel of America's byways) recapped Pallin's speech and how much they hate Obama. The F word was a mandatory adjective for every single sentence. No exaggeration. They said things like, "You see that woman's speech last night?" They said they were long time Democrats and if Biden or Hilary were running they'd vote Democrat again. But not Obama. They hate Michelle Obama for not being proud of America and want her to leave if she ain't proud. They passionately reminded each that Barack ain't never fought in a war. Their conversation turned quiet and I overheard words like "kill that mother@$%!." Then I come home, open up the paper and see that in Columbus someone spray painted "Death Obama" on one of his supporters homes.

A week in Hillsboro has opened my eyes to the complexity of our diverse country. Made me wonder about, but not want to hear the other conversations truckers are having on CBs and in truckstops across America. I bet they are scary as hell.

Workation

We started our vacation this week by tearing down a deck that has been rotting since 1963 and building a new one that'll last for centuries. I am proud to say that we spent Labor Day celebrating our brawn. Here's a few pics. Good times.