Gillyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy #2

Steve and have talked at great lengths about ole' Gilly and we both agree that it might be the greatest sketch ever created on SNL.

Breakdancing Bear

Every now and again my resolve to fear bears is shaken. Seeing one breakdance to one of my favorite groups is one of those moments.

Open Letter

Dear people who wait with me in Dr. office waiting rooms,

I have a few requests:

Bro, You should change out of your sweats and put on real pants before leaving your house. You respect yourself, right? You didn't accidentally show up in the middle of a jog, right? Even Rocky wouldn't rock sweatpants to the doctor. The only excuse I can think of is that you have a horrible rash that itches if anything touches your skin and the only pants you're comfortable lining/coating with balm are your stained, gray sweats.

Young dude, I don't care about your gameboy. I don't want to hear the play-by-play of your sweet baseball game. I don't want to hear you insult the digital pitcher. Put on some headphones and talk trash to yourself- inaudibly. I also have a problem with the fact that you're SUPER into your game but you keep asking your brother what things like ERA and OBP mean.

Sweatpants guy, if your baby is wailing you should know by now that it wants a bottle. You know other random things about him that you shared with us. Seems like you should have the bottle thing down by this point. Taking 15 minutes to remember that almost seems like abuse. I also don't enjoy you chiming in the crying chorus with baby talk.

Old lady, young dude, sweatpants guy, discussing your opinions about the front office decisions made by our local professional sports teams seems pointless. Especially when one of you think sweatpants are appropriate. If you want to complain about Dusty Baker do it at home with your friends and family. They may even be alright with the sweats.

Sincerely,

Bitter Diabetic

Thirty

My sister-in-law Dr. Jessica asked for photos of my birthday. I didn't take any. I was too busy playing with all my new gifts. So I just now took a few pics so you can see all my sweet loot. Leah didn't get me anything so there's no photos of her gifts. I asked for a platter of sour candy. I was told that's ridiculous.


Chris got me a niiiiiice bottle of scotch. He's now in my will. He gets all my gold bullion and war bonds.


Jboogie got me priceless, mint condition baseball cards. He might as well have given me a new pancreas and/or rollercoaster.


Justin (or DreamMaker as I now call him) got me TWO pocket knives. They both have camo handles. The tiny one is for killing anything that's tiny and rabid. The big one is for shredding badgers and anyone who fronts. Justin also got me a Twilight poster with Edward the vampire on it. He was going to open the poster and then slice it with the knife revealing my real gift- the knives. The poster was too curly to stay open so his amazing plan didn't work. I'm not able to take a picture of the poster because Leah immediately hung it over our bed.

I'm now 30 years old. Look out world. I'm about to tackle your ass. I got scotch, Chris Sabo and camo-covered death weapons to go along with three decades of rad living.

Natural vs. Unnatural

We spent the day shooting a video for Easter. We were in three locations with five people "on set." Location One was an all american subdivision in southern Dayton. Location Two was inside a Nissan. Location Three was CVG (Cincinati/Northern KY International Aiport). The five people were Isaac (producer, camera man, assistant director, guy who made everything happen), Ben (actor), Chris (actor), Chase (Chris' son on kindergarten spring break), and Me (ballbusting battleAX). I spent the day noticing the differences between "the natural" and "the unnatural."

The Unnatural:

It freaking snowed. We were shooting outside in a garage expecting a lovely spring day. It ain't natural to snow in April.

The amount of noise pollution in this SoDay neighborhood was epic this Tuesday morning. Chainsaws, dump trucks, cement trucks, giant drilling machines, circular saws all joined with the snow to really screw things up. Enormous holes were cut into the street one house down from where we were by construction crews to turn the neighborhood's water off. A man somehow made a geyser of water spray out of the neighbor's front yard for ten minutes. FedEx trucks drove by 30mph in second gear. Every neighbor who owned a car drove by. Even this weird vent thing across the street on someone's garage was making crazy clicking noises when the gale force winds hit it just right. And just when things quieted down a beagle named Charlie started barking. The number of things that made noise in that small time frame was uncanny and unnatural.

Guerilla filmmaking at airports feels unnatural. I was ready to get arrested the entire time. You don't realize how many airport police there are until you're trying to avoid them. I felt like we were hiding dirty bombs from Jack Bauer. Uneasy and unnatural.

Making sure you don't say things a kindergartner shouldn't hear. Not that I'm super profane. You just always have to have that filter on. That doesn't come natural.

The Natural:

Chris and Ben act/perform like they've been professionals for years. They're flat-out naturals. They get it. It comes easy. It's sweet to watch.

Isaac is always thinking four to twelve steps ahead. He was made to produce video. He makes things happen as naturally as Tiger swings a golf club. When security stopped us (one shot away from finishing) at CVG, Isaac told him that we got clearance from Barb in PR. Who knows what could've happened if Isaac didn't do the pre-work and then think on his feet when that chubby Jack Bauer rolled up. Instead of getting locked up we got the OK to finish because ole' Isaac is a natural.

Chris is an unbelievable dad. He's taking vacation time to be with his vacationing son. It's inspiring to watch these two interact. After a day that was probably pretty boring for Chase and pretty taxing for Chris, they both got out of the car and immediately started wrestling each other. I hope to be as naturally good at fatherhood as young Christopher.

Being a part of four adults doing something they enjoy and are naturally good at is just a heck of a good way to spend a day. Even a snowy, noisy day.

Sheeps

Champ Champion

As I defied all the odds and neared the finish line, a little girl came out of nowhere with a rebel force of victory on her mind. She gave it everything she had to try and overtake me. But because I'm a winner I gave even more of everything I had which is more because I'm a grown man. It's simple physics. And despite all the obstacles, I held her off. I won. Maybe not the big victory (that monopoly is the Kenyans'), but the tiny victory against this sneaky little firecracker. I beat her and got the medal to prove it. I am a champion.

I also conquered a heinous opponent called Toilet-Install. I'd rather run a marathon in acid sleet than install another. I would like to announce my retirement from plumbing. Don't expect to ever see me come back wearing #45. It's over. Forever.

Plumbing

Last night I failed badly at installing a toilet. One problem led to another. Frustration kept snowballing. So, I am forced to deliver a carte blanche condemnation of plumbing. Nothing makes me feel more worthless than home improvement projects. I can't wait for round two tonight. Some expensive good news I guess is that I keep amassing more and more tools. And you should be proud of me, I keep walking past the aisle of pocket knives. Those silver beauties keep calling my name like beautiful sirens beckoning lonely sailors. I've resisted so far. But this journey-weary sailor is only so strong...

All this plumbing nonsense/stress forced me to remember my trip to Nigeria where these dudes spent days digging a latrene. So, by the end of the night, as I watched Lost with a glass of Funky Llama shiraz, I stopped pouting. Half because of the wine and half because I remembered helping those guys dig. And that sucked. Like real bad. My plight is a urinal cake walk compared to latrene digging. (In case you don't know what a latrene is, it's a giant hole you crap in. aka Toledo.)


They dig these things 12 feet deep.
(ps, that Tailspin the musical stuff was april fools nonsense. sorry to anyone who bought tickets to boston or nyc yesterday)

Talespin

Do you remember Talespin? I'm pretty sure it used to play back to back with Ducktales. That was a power-packed hour. Turns out John Goodman, of Roseanne fame, was also a fan. (I knew I liked that guy.) He's going to play Baloo in the new musical version. It opens in Boston and if things go well...the bright lights of Broadway. Road trip to NYC anyone? If Johnathan Taylor Thomas plays Kit Cloudkicker I could die and go to heaven.

Weekend of Firsts

This weekend was a weekend of firsts...

I took my first toilet out. I was a little weirded out by the wax ring. Didn't know how much was wax and how much was 50+ years of pee grime.

I took my first vanity out. I pulled the sink up and hit/broke the ceramic toothbrush holder off the wall. That ended up being kind of a huge debacle. It was attached to the wall by kind of rare earth stone that nothing could break off. We wacked it with hammers, chisels, insults and nothing could break it. It might be stronger than God's hip bone. I borrowed Steve's grinder (a tool that cuts steel) and that couldn't even cut it. Crazy. Our tile wall will forever have a little nub to remind me of my inefficiencies.

Those two jobs were in preparation of Leah and Chris re-tiling our bathroom. Leah was the tile-cutting wizard. She grabbed this project by the balls and led the entire thing. She's beautiful and rugged all at once. I don't take for granted my luck in life.

I ran in my first 5k race. I was blessed with oppressive wind, rain and 40 degree weather. Luckily, Tyler a veteran racer/marathoner jogged alongside me. That helped keep my mind off the hills and pneumonia-incubating, pioneer-killing conditions.

I got my first medal. I'm no hero, folks. I just finished a race against all odds. Which by the way, the fans lining the streets at 9am couldn't have cared less about. Not a single cheer. I expected more encouragement quite frankly.

I ate at the Westside's crown jewel, Price Hill Chili for the first time. Look for the full review from the Cirque du Savory crew tomorrow. The highlight was when a member of our burger team received a cheeseburger after ordering a hamburger. She got her burger with the unwanted cheese 15+ minutes after everyone got their food. The waitress said, "They put cheese on it, sorry." Then she left and didn't return until it was bill delivery time. Only in the Westside could that happen. A mind-blowing display of customer service. The fact that the server just said, "Sorry," and didn't fix it is so insane that I think it makes me like the place. Not sure why.

I built my first saw horses with my big bro-in-law Justin. We were going to add onto my deck today. We had plans in place for weeks. I had a few things to do in preparation. One of them was to call the people who make sure you don't kill yourself by digging into various lines. I kind of forgot. It's technically illegal to dig without calling those people. So now, I have two fresh steeds out back, grazing away, waiting to go to work (as long as Justin agrees to help again after my slight misstep today).

Tonight, after it gets dark, I will drag a toilet out to the curb for the first time. For whatever reason I was embarrassed to do it in broad daylight. I think it felt hillbilly.

Tomorrow, I may return home and have to do my first hillbilly walk of shame. I have no clue if trashmen take toilets. So I may have to drag it back up the house as my neighbors quietly mock me from their kitchen windows.