Sweet Ohio

Ok, I have another experiment. We mock up some advertisements for this fine state a la the Pure Michigan ads. You in? Alright, here's the idea. You send me your favorite thing/place/aspect/etc. about Ohio along with three descriptors.

Example:
Bean Fields
-flat
-expansive
-numerous

Then...I'll whip together a SWEET OHIO ad. Then... stay with me now... once we have a good body of work we get a famous Ohioan (Paul Newman- Cleveland) to narrate. Eat it Tim Allen. Then we all get rich by selling them to Governor Strickland. And then... here comes the pay off.... we move to Michigan.

(I'll be at my brother's wedding until Saturday. That gives you plenty of time to send me your list. Also, I'd recommend watching a few Pure ads before generating your list (aka- love letter). It'll help get the romantic propaganda juices flowing.)

Who are the ad wizards?

Michigan. I really hate that word. Hate typing it. Hate saying it. Hate their dumb helmets. Hate their devil rat mascot. As an Ohioan it's my duty. I grew up singing we don't give a damn for the whole state of Michigan. Why you ask? What's the basis? Simple. We're from O-HI-0.

Well, then I started hearing these Pure Michigan ads on the radio. They're unbelievable. They have caused me to repent and give more than a damn about the state. Michigan sounds magical. Dare I say wonderful. These spots are perfectly written. Honestly, I'd pay dollars for an alarm clock with this narrator's voice reading me something in the morning. Something about sunshine and fresh water.

Do not watch this if you want to maintain your Michigan hatred.

Sometimes it's the little things...

Running car w/ cape....cool. Add a little Motorhead....way cool

What would yours' be?

Kind of an interesting question. I'm obviously biased. But here's an experiment...email me your metaphor (something that describes or could represent you in an iconic way) and I'll whip up a quick graphic for you and post it below.) So say Harrison Ford emails me, I'd whip up a literal whip. Get it? And.....go.




Craig and Sara just emailed theirs: EXPLORERS. Leah and I went to their wedding two weeks ago and instead of a wedding cake they had an ice cream truck and everyone got to take tickets outside to the refrigerated dreammaker and pick an ice cream. Brilliant! They explored the boundaries of nuptial desserts.







mat milthaler chose FUTURISTIC. I can attest to his futureness. He's always a few steps ahead. Always strategizing. Before the Raygunner was born Mat had two playlists on his iPod ready for when he popped out. One if it was a girl one if it was a boy. And probably a third if it was a tiny meatloaf.




Banjo Boyd chose REBEL PILGRIM. I believe there was a whole separate boat for the rebel pilgrims. Banjo would've been on that one telling stories in fresh new ways and leading counter cultural revolutions. And in the wee small hours he'd be trying to convince everyone that Taylor Hicks is good.








Little Brenty chose STEADY. This is a good word for this soon to be groom. I'm sure he developed this trait during his high school football days. He was an all state quarterback who threw lots of touchdowns. And lots of interceptions. Through it all he was as cool as Ralph Macchio. I'm sure his steadiness has been his greatest ally through all this wedding planning madness.










Tyler chose MONSTER. I actually don't remember 100% how this nickname started. I think it was originally Monster Face. He's been called many things. All related to his unbridled strength and courage. Or his craggy face. He's a mix between Nick Lachey and Daniel Craig (new James Bond).







Jessica asked that I choose a word for her. I choose AUTHENTICITY. Jessica is who she is all the time regardless of the setting and company. She's one cool chick. Always. (I should note: I tried to find an image of a window thinking that could illustrate authenticity. Then I found a window with the word on it. It seemed too serendipitous to pass up.)

Ring of Magnets

Have you read about the CERN Large Hadron Collider (code name: LHC)? It's $531 million ring of supercooled magnets 17 miles in circumference straddling the French and Swiss border 330 feet underground. The ring is attached to huge barrel-shaped detectors (essentially gigantic digital cameras weighing thousands of tons each that can take millions of snapshots a second. Each year the detectors will generate 15 petabytes of data, the equivalent of a stack of CDs 12 miles tall. What happens in this ring of magnets you ask? Beams of protons whip around the 17 mile track 11,000 times a second in opposite directions. And SMASH into each other. What happens then? Depends which scientists you ask. The ones in the video below believe we'll discover the secrets of the universe, invisible matter, new dimensions. Other legitimate scientists think it'll spawn a black hole that will swallow the earth. They'll admit it's a long shot, one in 50 million chance, but argue it's the same odds as winning the lottery. Which...happens. I believe we'll discover Tang 2.0.

I am intrigued to see what happens. But even more so, it makes me wonder how we have the ability to build a machine that not-crazy scientists believe has the power to suck us all into an invisible hole YET, we can't build a car that runs on anything besides gas. Or a device that can replace my pancreas. Or a better way to apply sunscreen. We're a month from creating tiny black holes and entering new dimensions but years from seemingly simple breakthroughs that could actually change a lot of peoples' lives. What a crazy world we live in.

Miles and Miles

Perhaps the coolest person to ever live is Miles Davis. Steve McQueen is a close second. But Miles is the king. I met him almost 10 years ago via his paramount album Kind of Blue. I forget why (maybe an old Cosby rerun) but I decided it was time to get into jazz. I purchased the compact disc and it melted my brain. It spoke to my bone marrow and for at least a month I went to sleep and woke up listening to it. I didn't know it at the time but it's considered one of, if not the greatest jazz albums. Quincy Jones said in 1999, "I don't know why, but that will always be my music, man. I play Kind of Blue EVERY day - it's my orange juice. It still sounds like it was made yesterday." Perfectly said, Quincy.

I played trumpet in 5th grade. I was awful. I was last chair- behind the smelly girl even. During recitals I'd watch her fingers to see what to play. I never once blew a note. Every individual practice I had with Mr. Keesey would start with him saying, "You didn't practice did you, Brad?" The trumpet was just not cool. I bet if there were baseball cards of jazz legends more kids would be into jazz. I had no idea until it was too late that the trumpet was way cool. Music education needs to do a better job of teaching our children about jazz. The Muppets were on to something and somewhere along the lines we abandoned jazz for singing dinosaurs.


Which is the purpose behind this post. I know it'll go highly ignored by most of you, but allow me to be a jazz evangelist for just a little bit. I promise your life will change for the better if you accept Miles Davis into your heart. So I've assembled the entire Kind of Blue album here (except for the alternate take of Flamenco Sketches). This week, I humbly ask that you let this unbelievable collection play as you go about tasks that could handle some background music i.e. dinner, TPS reports, paper/magazine/novel/short fiction reading, internet surfing, deep conversation with your significant other and/or your god. I'm not asking much here. But I am asking that you give Miles a chance. And if something connects with you on some level try giving the video below a look. The bass line is intoxicating. Watch at the end when Miles walks off and asks for a cigarette while the bassist keeps plucking. Classic cool.

Stevie + MJ (are you kidding me?)

Brenty, here's some inspiration for the reception.

Bear Zen

As the final guests pull away in their minivans and SUVs, the Clowns take off their wigs to start cooking dinner, and Bear sneaks away for a short-lived respite. Nobody knows about Bear. They assume it's still Derrick under the suit. And by the time they begin to wonder aloud why Derrick never talks anymore and how he grew so tall so fast, Daredevil is pouring moonshine down everyone's throat transforming their concern into revelry. Every morning is brand new. Bear gives head nods to the Freaks when they pass by and shout, "Dancing Derrick! Have a good show, brother!" He patiently endures Bearded Lady's awkward flirtations as they wait for Ringleader to call them on. And as he balances on the tiny ball in his shameful tutu he resists the overwhelming urge to eat the drunk farmers who yell, "Cute skirt, Christopher Robin." From behind his cartoonish mask, Bear knows that if he can abstain from more killing he can one day make it out. Goodbye to the pathetic fair circuit and hello to the prestigious stripes of Mr. Barnum. Derrick will be there in spirit as he gets converted into caloric drive and determination inside Bear's stomach. That zen thought justifies everything in Bear's mind as he sits and waits for the Clowns to finish boiling sausage.

Milkshake

Axel, Cop of Beverly, Protect Us

There are two kinds of people in this world. Real Eddie Murphy fans and the rest of us posers. Both kinds of people saw Beverly Hills Cop and thought, "I'd feel so much safer if Axel Foley was always around to protect me on the highway." Real fans, however, empty their life savings and make it happen.