Family Portaits

Leah's on a work call right now so I'm going to write her a letter for when she gets off.

Dear Leah,

Someday when our family is slightly bigger than us and Miss Jackson we are probably going to take family portraits. I wanted you to know that those portraits are going to look something like the ones below taken by Akihiro Furuta. I know you're gonna say something like,

"Shouldn't this be a joint decision?" or, "That's stupid. I'm not doing that."

Valid comments. I hear them. And my response is: we have years for you to change your mind. We have plenty of time to find silly outfits and tiny accordions. But I'm super flexible. We don't have to play instruments. We could hold antique garden tools or marionettes, I don't really care. There's where we can joint decide. Bottom line, my love, I just wanted to give you a heads up. I'm communicating. Because I care.

Lunch Revolution

Remember Lunchables? Are they still around? I'm pretty sure their rookie year was when I was in grade school. Lunchables and Ken Griffey Jr. were newly formed stars on the brink of a meaty career. Gone were the days where kids packed handmade sandwiches cut into perfect triangles by their loving parents. Good riddance to lil' baggies of carrots, marcelled potato chips, lumpy cookies and pudding packs. Hello tiny discs of processed "meats" and "cheeses" created to pair perfectly with crackers. Mature third graders everywhere declared, "Sandwiches are so 1986, Mom. Crackers are the future." Moms would try and explain the food pyramid and the difference between lunch and a snack. Kids saw a plastic container of independence where they could create their own lunch however they wanted as long as they wanted cheese and crackers. Processed freedom, baby.

I don't know how Lunchables did it but they sold oscar mayer crazy to the world. Maybe they caused the explosion of obesity. Kids grew up into older kids who hated how hungry they were in grade school. Maybe they're still angry that their lazy parents pawned off snacks as lunches. So in a fit of new rebellion they wolfed down double cheeseburgers. They point towards their mouths and stomachs and shout, "Here's the beef, mom....here's the beef."

Who could've known back in the 90s that Ken Griffey Jr. would fizzle into mediocrity and Lunchables would cause an outbreak of bitter type 2 diabetics? Not me, my friends. I too was caught up in the processed revolution.

Freaking USC

While I'm on the topic of College Football.....

I hate/love USC. I hate how laid back they are. How they dance around on the sidelines, hugging each other with their long, Herbal Essence hair flopping around like they just got back from surfing. I hate/love how Pete Carroll looks like he smokes weed with his players on Sundays while they recollect their shining moments both on and off the field. I hate how their band plays the same song for three hours straight and their fans obsessively throw their modified peace sign in the air. I hate that more than I used to hate the Seminole chop. I hate how they have ten running backs that would start for the Browns right now. I hate that after the game they probably have drum circles, sing love songs to each other and make plans to meet up for yoga later. I hate that they have a monopoly on recruiting Hawaiians and Samoans. Midwestern teams deserve to have players with wild hair and tribal tattoos. I hate that super cool celebrities are second class citizen compared to the back up punters. I hate that Pete Carroll probably ends each recruiting trip slow dancing with the recruit's mom to Marvin Gaye songs. I hate that the recruit's dad probably takes pictures and sends them to his friends. I hate that they warm up to Shel Silverstein poems on audio book before moving on to original hip hop produced by the defensive line. I hate that after practice the wide receivers teach the coaching staff how to pick up super models.

And what really pisses me off, I mean reeeeeeeeeeally makes me angry, is that if I had a son or daughter who was about to go to college, I'd buy them all kinds of Herbal Essences and Marvin Gaye albums and all but force them to go to freaking USC with the hope that maybe one day I could end up in a drum circle with Pete talking about where the sidewalk ends.

Morons Anonymous

I quit. I'm done caring about sports. I'm done screaming at a television and hitting my ottoman. There has to be something better to do with my time. I could've spent three hours doing push-ups tonight instead of watching my Bearcats make stupid mistakes and give the game away. I probably could've read an entire paperback novel. I could've thumb wrestled Leah 2,340 times. Anything would be better than how I feel right now. I absolutely, totally quit. No more caring. No more stress. Until Monday rolls around and I'll abuse my furniture again, apologize to them again, and yell at Toshiba while the Buckeyes blow it. Are there support groups for this sort of thing?

BESTOV '08: SNL episode

In my opinion, the best episode this year was the one with Josh Brolin. It had numerous quality sketches. Marky Mark made an appearance. The best sketch was the very last one about Fall Foliage. Unfortunately, no one else agrees with me. You can't even find its transcript online. This pains me because I thought it was genius. Buttery oranges, crimson browns. Please tell me that one of you also appreciated this brilliant sketch. Anyone? Anyone? So, because I can't share its buttery goldness with you I'll have to settle with giving you the runner-up.

Home Is Where The Scotch Is

Leah and I spent about seven hours in the car today. We woke up in Fremont, Ohio, ate some cereal and drove to Youngstown, Ohio where we ate some pasta made by some 80 year old lady they call Grandma and after that we drove home to Cincinnati. Christmas is bananas. Sing that song, Bing.

So after a wild day I'm sitting here watching college football, drinking a single malt scotch out of a customized glass inscribed with my yet-to-become-mainstream nickname, "Hurricane" (both gifts from lil' Brenty) while Leah puts together her new ultra-violet indoor herb garden (gift from her bro Justin). The smoky-sweet, golden juice is melting away the stress of crisscrossing the heartland to bask in extended-family Christmas cheer.

I can think of a few things to write about. Lots of different emotions this Christmas. For whatever reason I choose to comment on an email I just received. My friend Baranabas (Mr. Bee) from Jos, Nigeria just signed up for Facebook. He wants me to be his online "friend." I've long been a Facebook skeptic. I'm not a hater. I just don't really get it. Real life friends make fun of me for being the only one not a part of the online friend book. That fuels my holdout. But when Mr. Bee signed up I was intrigued. I thought about how cool it would be to keep in touch and see photos of him, the Ultimate, Smally, Rogers and Aliyu (our drill crew) changing entire villages in Jos. So who knows if I'll join the dark side. The irrational rebel in me has a pretty strong hold on my life. But this is definitely the first time the Book of Face has made any kind of sense to me.

Christmas Break

Happy Christmas Eve, party people. Leah and I just exchanged gifts and are heading home for a nice break and to see our families. Among various candies and nuts she gave me a Sake set. I don't really enjoy the taste of the rice booze. But I LOVE the process of pouring it out of a little jug into a tiny glass.

The {re}gifter finished its run. What a strange feeling. I hope to have the opportunity to shoot the stage portions on video and have a finished product on DVD. If you're rich and want to bankroll that endeavor please send me a messenger pigeon. One of the better stories I heard is of this seven year old boy who leaned over to his grandma at the end and said, "I think I'm going to cry." And then they both did. It was fun to see how much kids enjoyed the show. This has much to do with how great Banjo Boyd was as the lead. He said a thousand words with his non-verbal work. Every time the music came on people sat up in their seats anticipating what he was going to do. Christopher Day was as funny as I thought he would be. Actually, he was funnier. He stole the show. I have a feeling this is the beginning of quite a ride for young Stopher. Sean Murphy's dramatic work made the show. I told him before we shot his fight scene that it was the key to the entire show. No pressure. Man, did he deliver. Authentic with just the right amount of subtlety. Jes Brookes brought a lot of depth to her character of Paige that wasn't there in the script. And the kids were fantastic. I heard many people say their favorite scene was the kids' interaction with Sam at the dumpster.

All in all it's a bittersweet end. Frankly, I'm not quite ready to process it all. I just want to reflect and hear others' reflections on what they enjoyed about each of the characters and scenes. Selfish? Perhaps. But to move on and finish with the processing means that it's really over. That can happen in 2009.

Bon Voyage

Well, we set sail on our three day voyage last night. Regretfully, I didn't smash any champagne bottles anywhwere. Can you do that mid voyage? Does that bring scurvy/ bad luck? Anywho, opening night was a success. I have so many thoughts and emotions (the manly kind, of course) right now that it's hard to decide what to reflect on. So many stories have emerged from all the volunteers gathering together to tell the one story of the {re}gifter. I hope to log them all in some fashion some day. I think the feeling for most of the cast and crew is that the actual performances are simply the icing, the cherry on top. The real fun was the work leading up to it. I really feel like for the most part I was able to enjoy that work in the moment this year. I didn't want it to hurry up and end so we could get to this point. But it does make me think about how often we set our sights on the story's conclusion and miss out on all the tiny stories that emerge along the way. I know Hallmark makes cards with that general message. But those are my thoughts this morning. It's all about the tiny stories.


One of those stories is about Stephanie. She made this junk shadow of the Cincinnati skyline a month ago. When she came to transport it from the warehouse workspace over to its destination she found it destroyed. We're thinking nogoodnik kids. She cried. This project was the first time in a long time that she got to let loose and just create. She had a rough summer and fall. This piece was more than just cans glued together. So, in a matter of a couple nights, Stephanie recreated her skyline and got it set up in time for opening night. The proud glow in her eyes after she finished on Friday night was magical. While I was in the middle of a dress rehearsal where numerous things needed fixed I was able to celebrate with Stephanie.

BESTOV '08: Toe Tapper

This is my favorite song of 2008. Ben Folds + Regina Spector. It makes me want to write a musical for some reason. I love towards the end where they blur the lines between singing the song and talking to each other. It's the same thing Doogie did in that Dr. Horrible's Sing ALong Blog. There's magic there that I want to explore. Maybe next Christmas.

BESTOV '08: Biggest Pimp

I don't need to explain this one. It's obvious. He's the James Bond of Muppets. I'd include his acceptance speech for this award but he goes on and on about meatballs and frankly, it's exhausting. Let this picture do the talking.