Inventionary

I need a venture capitalist to read this idea and give me money. What if there was a poster with paper thin speakers that allowed you to experience groups like this in all their glory. They could be scratch and sniff too. I'm thinking these dudes would smell like root beer floats and Stetson. Send me cash. We'll change the landscape of college dorm room decorating.

In The Wee Small Hours

So last night as Leah and I laid in bed we talked about things that lovers talk about. Our hopes/dreams. Our frustrations/anticipations. NKOTB. Just before I dozed off Leah said to our ceiling fan, "I wonder if they're nervous." You see, today is the New Kids big come back performance. In fact, as I type Leah is downstairs, magically transformed into a 13 year old, watching the Boys on one of the good morning shows. She's probably twittering her friends in phys. ed. telling them what they missed.

NKOTB. OMG. ITIMDISIL. (I think i might die i'm so in love)

They twitter back, TMBTBDOMEL (today might be the best day of my entire life) NJK (no joking)

Daydreamin'

This song will be in your head for the day and you will be blessed.

Fort Francis

Do kids still make forts? Is that a thing anymore? I like to wax nostalgic about the summer days my neighborhood crew and I spent creating elaborate encampments worthy of media coverage. The kind of forts Daniel Boone would swoon over. Wooden fortresses that could protect us from invasion or hold enemies hostage long enough for the enemy leaders to get us our demands (helicopters full of popsicles and fireworks). Two-story spy mansions with secret entrances and underground tunnels. We had a woods behind our house that was owned by a convent. There was a cabin that nuns retreated to from time to time for even deeper silence and refuge. We didn't know that. We thought it was a half-way house/cabin for escaped convicts. A prison was down the road so it made complete sense.

I remember one week where we broke into this cabin to use their tools to build our own cabin. We loved the convicts' cabin but we were scared of getting killed. We needed our own place. And tools. So we used their saws, machete, ax, etc. to cut down about eight medium sized trees. This actually happened. I'm not just waxin' fantasy. Long story short we got caught. The Father of the St. Francis convent (and part time Columbo) used his super sleuth skills to ruin everything. Three things happened in that moment.

ONE: We got into lots of trouble with our parents and learned that stealing from nuns is wrong.

TWO: The cabin lost its appeal when we found out it was for nun camp overs and not for runaway felons.

THREE: we had a bulletproof excuse for not finishing our perfectly planned cabin. Usually we had no excuse. We just stopped. The fort that was going to be completely underground ended up being a two foot deep hole. The double decker tree loft ended up being a tree with a few sheets of plywood nailed into it. As much as I like to remember all those sweet forts the truth is we never finished one. Ever. We started lots. Had great plans and great excitement. They just always ended up being hard work. The fun part was the brainstorming.

I haven't changed much since then. I still love the "what if" a lot more than the "what now?" Maybe I need to change. Maybe I need to get better at finishing stuff. Who knows. Or maybe I just need to find grown ups who used to run with neighborhood crews who actually completed forts. The kind of kids who graduated from cub scouts and stuck with piano/viola/drum/trumpet. Maybe I just need to surround myself with former and current over-achieving, viola-strumming, knot-tying nerds. Because lets be honest. Even if I make all these great plans to change into someone who finishes stuff with as much gusto as I start stuff, I know I'll lose my excitement after I buy the TrapperKeeper and other colorful organizational tools. There's probably still a circle of about eight tree stumps near a rustic nun-cabin that can vouch for that.

El Moustachio

A Collection of Cleverness

May it inspire you to create something clever today.

Apocalypse Now

If this photo is real we're all goners. Forget bird flu. This is the Kodiak Invasion. Bearkrieg. Devil Jockeys. Death Derby. Bearbiscuit. John Wayne's nightmare. Rodeo clowns.... of terror. My Little Bearcovered Pony.

Production Stills

I loaded the 40+ shots I took up on flickr. I didn't edit them or anything. Feeling pretty lazy this Sunday morning. But it's pretty cool (I think) to see Mark's set up. The guy is a true artist. Everyone involved with this project (except me) was a volunteer. Their only pay was the pervasive smell of body fluids stained into the walls and curtains. It's so humbling and energizing for me to work with talented people who volunteer their time and skills. Makes me want to write a song and get tons of famous people to sing it together with headphones and raise money and heal the world/make it a better place for you and for me and the entire human race. Click here for the pics.

Motel Shoot

Spent 13+ hours at a Motel 6 shooting five different videos this Friday. We ended the day with the cops showing up. They were telephoned and told that porno was being filmed in room 306. Turns out the particular Motel 6 that I chose is notorious for letting tranny prostitutes rent "office space." The cop arrived as we were packing. I walked out the door tightening/adjusting my belt buckle when the officer asked what we were doing. That didn't look good. Eventually after we cleared things up the officer told us that she wasn't even sure she could arrest us if we actually were shooting porno. Unless we had animals. There was an elephant earlier in the day. I didn't tell her that.

Here's a few stills from the shoot. I'll upload some production shots later on. It's pretty cool to see the set up that Mister Mark Denney had packed into that urine-soaked room. It was a great day capped off with a pretty remarkable encounter with The Man.

Headline News

Yesterday was a day of epic news for two of my favorite people on the earthplanet. My little brother Brenty closed on his first house with his beautiful wife-to-be. And one of my best friends got engaged. News doesn't come packaged a whole lot bigger than that. It got me thinking of my wedding this morning. Both of these wildtigers stood beside me as I tried not to puke and cry. The nervous-in-a-good-way kind of puke/cry. Here's what I wrote about them in the program. The language is maybe a little dramatic in this blog context. But it's truth, and it fit the original context: a super awesome dramatic wedding event.

Brenty:
One day as kids we decided to start a world record camp fire. Due to the risk involved we told Brent that he couldn’t come. He started to cry. Matt the neighbor kid told Brent that someday he’d have to stop tagging along. “Whattya gonna do when Brad goes off to college?” Matt asked. Fighting through tears Brent responded, “I’ll go with him”. From then on there was no stopping us from tagging along with each other. We are best friends, each others’ biggest fans and have a closer bond than I could ever put into words.

Tyler:
I met Tyler at our freshmen orientation. During a rest room break we discovered that we shared a deep love for Fruity Pebbles. To this day he swears it was destiny. We spent the next five years of college realizing that despite what our parents said, we were twins separated at birth. He obviously got all the brawn. Tyler’s loyalty and dedication as a friend is truly unmatched. If it ever came down to it, I’m sure we’d get into an argument over who’d take the bullet for whom. And that’s a fight I wouldn’t pick for just anyone.

So the way I'm celebrating today is chair dancing to this song. I know it makes no sense lyrically. Or sensically for that matter. But whatever. It makes me happy. Just like good/great news from my boyzzzzzzzzzzz. So do me a solid, raise your coffee mug in honor of Tyler and Brenty and do a two-step with my good friend, Beyonce.

Beyonce feat Sugarland - Irreplaceable
by jpolledri