Weekend Notes

It was a mild weekend here in Mayberry.

We ate at Jason's Main Street Grill, the restaurant that catered the wedding, before heading home for TV couch time. Your Sis is in deep, deep love with "Six Feet Under." We made chocolate chip cookies from a large freezer tub of dough.

On Saturday, I ran about two miles outside before grabbing Mexican lunch and heading off with Kathy and Travis to watch the OSU/Michigan game. we again met the local OSU alum group at a local bar to chant and eat. This was Christmas and Thanksgiving for them as OSU played their hated rivals for the right to play in the national championship game. It was a good game, but the two of them were nervous in the second half as Michigan kept it competitive. But because the bowl ratings system is so screwed up, it's possible these teams will play each other again for the outright title. i took the library's copy of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof back to its home and surprisingly felt a little sad to see it go.

Sunday saw us proof rough drafts of research papers. As per my suggestion, her regular class is no longer writing about persecuted people but Nobel Peace Prize winners. We started watching the post-World Series "House" episodes, caught the newest "Simpsons," and watched a bit of VH1's"Top 100 80's Songs" which I'll write about later. Your Sis was oddly desperate for buffalo wings, so we baked up a batch and ate them throughout the evening. We won't have them tonight as we're heading out to a trivia night at a local bar. My rehearsals start next Monday so last Monday may have been my last wings and rasslin' night for a few months.

My parents will not be able to go to Alabama fot Turkey Day, and we'll try to catch up with them next weekend. It was snowing like crazy as I dove into work, but it didn't stick and seems to have stopped now.

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (7-3), NY Jets (5-5), Oakland (2-8)
Philly (5-5), Detroit (2-8)

My Teams
Miami (4-6), Pittsburgh (4-6)
Philly (5-5), Carolina (6-4)

Philly lost its all-pro QB this week, and Carolina's 6-4 record is good enough to put them near the top of their rickety conference. Miami and Pittsburgh seem to be rallying their way into potential playoff runs.

Picture of the Day
The new poster. I love the film version of Voldemort. I wouldn't have cast Ralph Fiennes based on the book version of the character, but he does a great job.


In the News
The Congress and White House continue to settle down after the elections. The GOP Congress decided that the elections were a protest vote on the administration's policies and retained its recent Senate and House leadership, eschewing the chance to freshen up its hierarchy. McCain is the most prominent GOP presidential candidate-to-be, and he's the only one from the GOP Congress with the chance of a substantial campaign. But he's swinging hard to the right by saying Roe v. Wade should be overturned and courting Falwell's audience.

A Comment on the PlayStation 3 Insanity

There are hardcore gamers who will do anything for the latest technology.

Then there are gamers loyal to Sony and will buy anything that brand unleashes.

Then there are the people hoping to sell it on the secondary market.

I am a generational gamer. I've had a console system since I was in single-digit ages. I had an IntelliVision, Mattel's system that melded the availability of Atari 2600 and the graphics of the ColecoVision. I loved that machine. Love it. I played it so much (only child, remember) that I killed the unit and had to get another to replace it. It was reluctantly that I moved to Nintendo, but from that I had a Sega Genesis and then the PlayStation. I worked at the daily newspaper when the PlayStation 2 was released, and it was because of my paper job that I got one on Launch Day.

The paper sent its youngest newsroom workers to spread over the local stores and cover the people lined up to buy a system. And of course we decide to line up too. But I had a plan. Sony was only releasing a certain amount of systems. I divided that number by the number of major franchises and then factored how many stores were in each franchise. For instance, Best Buy had X national stores, so each store would get a minimum of Y units. And Best Buy had fewer stores than Circuit City and Wal-mart, so they would have more units per store.

I was assigned to cover an area Wal-Mart, and so I stood for a few hours before being informed the store had allocated its slim supply to the first people in line. The next morning, I went by Best Buy. There was a line of about 30 people outside the locked store, and I knew that Best Buy would give more units than that for each of their stores. I got in line. About 15 minutes later, the managers handed out numbered paper to correspond with each unit they had. They had about 50 to sell, and I was standing among the 40s. I had a PS2. A few hours later, the store opened, and I walked right up to the counter and was handed my PS2. Other paper people were in line for hours and hours. And while I had the shortest wait, we all grabbed on. That week, I wrote an article about my ex-wife hooking it up to our stereo.

And I loved the Ps2. I still have it, and it runs fine. We played Katamari Damacy, Mortal Kombat and Rampage on it. We had to get a DVD player because the newer DVDs surpassed what the PS2 could play. I just bought a new game for it last night (wrestling, naturally). I don't have the urge to get a Ps3, and it's possible the Ps2 will be my last console. I just don't have the time to devote to that focused a gaming experience. Games that require 20+ hours of gameplay could take me a year to finish.

So, no, I have no desire to get into that mad crowd of PS3 fanatics, but I wish them well-behaved camaraderie and warm feet.

Speaking of shopping, I order Your Sister's Christmas gifts from Amazon this week, and she's gonna plotz.

I Got The Call

They offered me Gooper. Rehearsals start Monday night after Thanksgiving.

Fuck, yeah.

Anxiety, Humility, Doubt

And that's why we love the theatre.

I spent a good portion of yesterday reading over Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I read both Brick and Gooper felt I had a good handle on them both. I didn't see any portions of dialogue that I would have a problem with, nothing felt inconsistent with the characters and I thought I could deliver the material well. I arrived at the callback at 6:30 and found myself amid a small group of guys. Half were obviously there for the Big Daddy role and there were maybe four who could read Brick and Gooper.

The assistant, Victoria, told us what pages to prepare for our auditions and explained that we would be called in pairs to read Daddy/Brick scenes. And off they went. And I wasn't called in. The director came out to survey the attendance, looked at me, and said "I'm sorry. We won't be needing you for a while." I was confused. What had I said to suggest I didn't want to read for Brick? He commented that I had a good feel for the character in the first audition. So I waited a bit. I'm a new guy. I don't know how to ask about this with this new group. In the meantime, I was confused. Should I ignore the Brick pages and focus entirely on maximizing my Gooper script? Or should I keep practicing the Brick material in case I did get a shot?

After 15 minutes of going over both roles and making nonproductive eye contact with the stage manager, I approached Victoria. Maybe I said something to suggest I didn't want Brick, I offered. I don't know the protocol, I explained. She said she couldn't help me in this and that I should ask the director. I was afraid she'd say that, and I understood fully that I did not want to put her in the middle with any appearance of advocating any applicant. But I was concerned that by the time I got in there, it would be too late. And indeed, before I was called in for Gooper, the director called in all the Bricks and Big Daddies for some sort of final line-up.

By this time, some actresses were arriving for their callbacks. The men exited the audition room, and most of them left. I was soon called in for a Gooper scene. Victoria let me pass by as she chose a few gals to read Big Momma and the wives. As she did this, I snuck in to the audition room, greeted the director, and asked the question: Had I disqualified myself from a Brick callback. No, he explained simply, it was nothing I said. And that was the simple truth. I just wasn't in the running. Fair enough, I thought, and I thanked him.

Now I knew it was a longshot to get that role. I'm new. I'm fresh off the street with these people, and they have no idea how responsible I am. Also, I've got gray hair. Brick should be about 27. I'm physically closer in age to Gooper. And looking at the Bricks that auditioned, it's easy to see I don't have the classic leading man looks that Brick should have. He has to be a golden child of sorts, and I'm a naturally darker type of actor. The director did go out of his way to apologize and say the callback should have been clear on that point, that I was reading for Gooper only. He didn't have to say that. So, it was Gooper or bust.

And I did get to read the scene about three times with a mix of actresses. Some, as had been the case Sunday, didn't know the play much less the scene, and each had to be walked through it a little bit before we started reading aloud. I'm a married man who commutes two hours a day, and I have time to read the script weeks before the audition. I wonder what they're doing to keep them from cracking open the play before they show up. Maybe these are people holding down two or three jobs. Maybe they all have kids.

I thought I did pretty well. I was slower, and that helped hold my accent. I was clear in projection, and I was consistent in each reading. Sometimes I think of a famous, great actor auditioning for the role and imitate them. For this, I was thinking of Gene Hackman in Mississippi Burning. But more of a jerk. In fact, if one can ever somewhat imitate or channel Hackman, I think they'll deliver a good performance.

In the last read, the stage manager asked which form of my name I prefer. I say what I always say (I like Gregory, but I'm not picky), and she said she wanted to get into the habit of saying it right. I immediately was gladdened as this suggested I'll be around, and I joked for her to please let me be around enough for that to be necessary. Again, I enjoyed it. I got to read the prime dickish Gooper line a few times. As I was leaving, however, the director asked if I would be willing to play other roles in the play, and I said sure. And all would be well in my head and gut had he not asked me that. That suggests I auditioned myself out of the part. I don't know what I could have done to not make the lines work. I think I grasp the character. I thought I could communicate that. He's who I gravitated toward initially. I would feel worse seeing someone else play this part than any other role in the play. There's only two other roles in the play I could do: the preacher and the doctor. Much smaller roles. Certainly manageable, significantly less fun.

So I drove home, dissecting mentally the callback and trying to spot my weaknesses. Maybe he's asking just to allow himself as many options as possible, I argued. Maybe I hammed the accent too much. Maybe, I admit, I'm just not good anymore. I've been out of theatre for two years. Maybe my acting muscles have atrophied. And I'll confess, it got a little pouty in my head, but I reminded myself (eventually) that all I wanted was to be satisfied with my audition. That's distinct from them being satisfied with it. I know that I had a good reading of Brick and Gooper. That was my initial goal. And if they offer a smaller role, it will be an investment of time and effort to the next role I audition for with them or another local theatre.

I did notice though that the in-town theatre is gonna present Broadway Bound which was my first show with Spartanburg Little Theatre. If I don't get anything with Hot Tin Roof, I can throw myself at a rebound audition. But I want that Asheville show. And now I wait to hear back with some measure of anxiety and a scoash of hope that Gooper isn't out of my reach.

Tick tock, tick tock.

Six Hours 'Til Callback

Of course, I'm nervous.

There's two roles I'm aiming for: Brick and Gooper

Me as Brick
Pros: I can act. I look fairly young. I'm in fairly good shape.
Cons: They don't know me. I'm a little old to play Brick. I'm not in former pro-QB shape.

Me as Gooper
Pros: I can act. I have no problem playing a dick. I'm about the right age.
Cons: They don't know me. They might prefer him to be a wimp. I'm maybe a bit young to play a father of five.

I'll hang around town tonight, read the script again at supper, and go to the theatre at 6:30. I wore a shirt that shows off my shoulders, and I'm trimmed the facial hair back a bit.

All I can do, I suppose.

Called Back

I made the first round of auditions as I was asked to come back tomorrow night to read again. No idea which part I'm in the running for. But, as with Sunday, I may know the play better than the other hopefuls. That could give me an edge. Either way, I made my first call back. And that's worth at least a touchdown dance.

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (6-3), NY Jets (5-4), Oakland (2-7)
Philly (5-4), Detroit (2-7)

My Teams
Miami (3-6), Pittsburgh (3-6)
Philly (5-4), Carolina (5-4)

Picture of the Day
The first extraterrestrial hurricane was captured by the Cassini probe at Saturn's south pole. The storm is 5,000 miles across.

Initiation, Caffeination, Audition

On Friday, I was made an honorary member of the fraternity. It was a short ceremony, involving me and another initiate. I'm now a Friends of the Arts. I got a nice pin to wear. The national officers were there to watch, and we chatted afterward about convention and initiation details. It was very pleasant. We drove into Asheville for the ceremony and bummed around town for the rest of the day. We bought a frame for the certificate so I can hang it in my office. We ate lunch at Mellow Mushroom, stepped inside the comic store, and bought a new phone for the living room at Target. It was a pedestrian afternoon.

I helped Your Sis stamp textbooks on Saturday and read Cat On A Hot Tin Roof a few times. I started to think I could play the lead male even though I initially aimed for the supporting male role. Can't say what triggered that change. That night we caught The Prestige, the Hugh Jackman/Christian Bale magician thriller. It's a nice idea but ultimately a satisfying movie. It drags a bit in the second half. It looks great though, and it doesn't insult the audience. We hit Krispy Kreme, and I wolfed down four doughnuts and a cup of coffee. Sugar rush? Oh, yes. Oh shit, yes.

Sunday night was the audition, and it was by far the most formal I've been in. The previous auditions all had the applicants in the same room, reading with each other and auditioning in front of each other. We could adjust our strategies based on what the other guy did. Not this time. The applicants entered the lobby and filed bio sheets and any resumes and headshots we made. I made a photosheet that afternoon to show them what I looked like with and without the beard. I also listed my shows in Spartanburg and Greenville. There were many more women there for that lead role than men. But this was the first of two days of auditions, and tonight's may be an all-male affair.



We were given short clips of the script to read for each part we wanted. I grabbed copies for the two male roles I thought I could manage. An assistant, Victoria, escorted applicants into a small room where sat the directors and what appeared to be interns reading cues. I went in about half an hour after I arrived. I greeted them shook hands with them, explained where I worked and lived. The house is an hour away, but my office is five minutes up the road. I read the lead role first, and it involved some of the most emotional actions he has. I thought it went just OK; I may have rushed it, and my accent might have slipped. I had dry mouth, and my heartbeat was going nuts. I felt stupid. I had auditioned maybe a dozen times, but it had been two years since my last play, and I had never stepped foot into this building before. I was told I had a "good footing for the character," which was a tidbit they didn't have to share. So I felt pretty good. I asked to read for the supporting part and was asked if I could hang around until they watched the rest of the applicants. I did. And about 90 minutes later, I was escorted back in to read that bit. I was the last person to leave. In the meantime, I chatted with folks, most had worked with this theater before. Victoria checked on me to see if I would wait a little longer each time, I and I assured her I was fine. Of all the places I could be at that moment, I was back in a theater. What was to complain about? We also had a chat about the use of "ma'am," and she made it clear she was not a "ma'am," she was Victoria. But it was friendly conversation, and I appreciated her concern. Many of the others had significant stage experience; some were professional actors. I was surprised by how many people showed up without knowing the play. Parents brought their kids to try out for roles without knowing what kind of situations they may be involved with. The play has some strong language and adult material. I gave one guy a complete rundown of the play right before he walked in and read. I performed my second read better than the first as this was the one I focused on for weeks. I think my accent held better, but I still felt like I rushed it. I thanked Victoria, left the building, and called Your Sis with the details. They don't need me to come back in tonight to read, and now I just wait to hear any news. As I left they said we'll see you Tuesday or Wednesday, which may be what they tell everyone. I can't make assumptions.

I'm content with the experience. I wanted to audition, and I did so. I found a play I wanted to try for, read it, practiced a bit, showed up, read, and didn't embarrass myself. That's all I wanted. Anything more than this is gravy. The rehearsal schedule looks like plenty of time to prepare, and I have no conflicts with it.

Moving Picture of the Day
The trailer for Spider-Man 3. I can't tell you excited I am for this. Sandman may be my favorite Spidey villain, and I can remember reading about him when I was four.

You Can't Handle the Tooth!

I'm scared of dentists. I had bad experiences with my last one, back in high school. He not only used me as a guinea pig for his first application of braces (and thought he could save time by tightening them to get two years' worth of correction in eight months) but he was convicted of selling drugs out of his office a few years later. So I haven't seen a dentist for half my life.

Since then, my wisdom teeth grew in and one of them turned on me this week. The pain was so bad, I couldn't sleep at all Tuesday night; neither ibuprofen nor Anbesol would work. I called Your Sister's dentist this morning to beg for relief, and they indeed squeezed me in for a quick extraction. That's right, it had to go. And I would gladly kiss it bye-bye if it meant I could sleep at night. And I shall, for, lo, the bad tooth, she's a'gone. Tooth extraction feels like someone hooking a coat hanger under your cheekbone and lifting you off the floor. But I was properly numbed, so I was more fascinated than panicked. I got a prescription and took the pill last night. Mix a sleep-inducing painkiller with a guy who was awake for 40 hours and you get a coma. I slept fantastic. The numbness from the gum shots hasn't worn off yet, so I'm doing OK. I got a referral for an oral surgeon to yank my other wisdom teeth, and that scheduling will depend on the success of my audition this weekend. I also will gladly go back to this dentist for my regular teeth duties. They were nice people who helped a poor sap in a crunch.

I have the tooth in a bag next to my bed. It looks quite horrible. But the x-rays showed the rest of my chompers are stylin' and profilin'. I've lived in terror that my teeth have slowly decayed into mashed potatoes, but nope, I've still got years and years of chewing ahead of me. This morning, I feel fine. Well rested and hungry for solid food. There's slight pain between medications but nothing like what I felt Tuesday night.

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (6-2), NY Jets (4-4), Oakland (2-6)
Philly (4-4), Detroit (2-6)
Man, Your Sis is mad at me for rooting for Indianapolis against New England Sunday night.

My Teams
Miami (2-6), Pittsburgh (2-6)
Philly (4-4), Carolina (4-4)
Unless Pittsburgh wins their next 7 games, their season is done. Miami knocked off the previously undefeated Bears (but they're out of it too). Philly, Carolina, and the Jets had the week off.

Picture of the Day
I finished up another mix CD for Your Sis. That's her boy cat on the cover.



In the News
It's a bad week to be Bush. Not only did he swiftly change his tone about Democrats on Wednesday, but the press hammered him on the 180-degree turn. And Bush could only claim he said things in the heat of campaigning. While he refused to agree he was out of touch with voters, his habit of praising an official before firing them became painfully obvious when Rumsfeld was shown the door. Bush claims he held off on the Pentagon change until after the election according to his plan. But some GOP campaign advisers are saying that they could have held the Senate had he done this a month ago. And now Bush says he can get the immigration package he wanted from the Democrats that he couldn't get from hardline Republicans.

It's also fun to hear the talk-show hosts sing a different tune after the election. Even Limbaugh threw the GOP under the bus and claimed he's relieved to not carry their water anymore. No one wants to look like they couldn't see the tide turning to the Democrats after spending the last 6 years calling that party conciliatory cowards. Those contrary voices and bloggers who said a grassroots effort would throw out the GOP now don't seem so cultish and fringe. This may further legitimize the Pajama Media.

Bachelor Weekend

Your Sis drove down to Greenville to visit a college buddy, leaving me to roam the house and neighborhood unsupervised. I finished watching Donnie Darko Friday night. It's an odd movie, one made up of moments that could work as music videos and an ending that doesn't spell out what the film is really up to. I understand that the director's cut explains everything and makes for a less fun film. I don't think I'll see it, but I want the soundtrack very badly. Good acting abounds here.

On Saturday, I finished the director's cut of the Dawn of the Dead remake, and it was a solid horror movie. Easily in my top five. I was impressed with the time taken to let the impact of events seep in, and the end credit sequence my be the best I've ever seen. I've never been a fan of zombie movies. OK, to be precise, Ive never been lured to a movie based solely on the premise that its about zombies. I liked the notion of the first Dawn of the Dead as it sounded clever: survivors hide in a mall and zombies return there out of habit. That's cute. The remake ditches the consumer commentary, and the zombies head to the mall to simply eat the living. Still, it retains enough cleverness to be a fun movie.

I worked on the cover art for a new mix CD for Your Sis and maybe finished up her Star Wars drawing. I'll take another look at it tomorrow. I took advantage of the alone time to eat badly: KFC, Wendy's, and Burger King. But I ran yesterday morning for the first time since the race, and you know, I'm thinking about running in the December 5k. Maybe not. We'll see. I made lasagna Saturday night, and we ate it last night. I thought it turned out a little bland even though I added a chunk of spices. We went through a bottle of Sangiovese (from Biltmore) with the meal. Sleep ensued.

Picture of the Day
I hope this is a joke.


In the News
The elections are tomorrow, and virtually everyone agrees the Democrats will win the House. The question is by how much; some projections suggest a 35-seat swing. They might take the Senate majority, but that's a point of debate. As we learned in 2004, polls mean nothing. The Democrats were projected to win then too. There's no way to spin the election any other way than as a referendum on the administration, specifically the Iraq occupation. And Bush said last week he has no plans to oust Rumsfeld if the Democrats win tomorrow. Democrat representative Nancy Pelosi kept a low profile last weekend so the GOP couldn't use her as a target for their campaigns. She is a top contender for the Speaker position if the Democrats win the majority, and the GOP makes too much hay out of prominent female Democrat candidates. So if the Democrats win as much as some say, who does the GOP blame for it? Bush will already be a lame duck for his last two years. Rumsfeld has Bush's backing (but so did the head of FEMA). The current Speaker of the House will already lose his job if the majority switches. The Big Mean Liberal Media will catch some shit for reporting that Iraq isn't going so well, but the unions aren't really a factor this year unless someone tries to blame the domestic car company losses for scaring voters. Local gas prices here were holding at $2.18 for about three weeks and then shot up seven cents overnight last week. Will that have an effect? If the Democrats win, will this be seen as much as a revolution as when the GOP took Congress in 1994? And will the Democrats likewise screw up their win by trying to pass a heavy handed list of cultural mandates?

Me, I'll just be glad all the damn ads are gone.

Halloween

It was dusky as I arrived home and found Your Sis in the driveway setting up the jack o'lanterns. She made lunchbag luminaries, filled them with wet cat litter, and we set them down the driveway to make a path leading kids to the door. We set some candles in the windows, opened all the candy bags into our plastic cauldron, and waited for kids. Two arrived right before 7 p.m., and then we ate supper as we waited for others. We watched "Six Feet Under" with the front door open in view of the TV, and would you know it, a lone six-year-old walked up right as characters were talking about sex. I don't think it registered with her. We had two large groups arrive within a few minutes of each other.

We also had a lone teenage boy arrive sans costume. He was carrying a pillowcase. He range the bell, and said nothing as I opened the door. Just stood there and held up his bag. Now, I believe in age limits for trick-or-treaters. I do. I wouldn't allow any kid over 12 to do it. But I'm willing to give candy (and we had plenty) to someone who has the right spirit. This boy had none. He just wanted free grub, and he was offering no effort to get it save walking to doors and announcing himself. I held the candy cauldron on my hip, lowered my lids, and said "I need to hear the phrase." "Trick or treat," he mumbled, and I gave him one piece of candy. One. Everyone else got handfuls.

Kathy and Travis came over a little later to show off Anna Claire's pumpkin costume. We ate candy and watched the remake of Dawn of the Dead. While we didn't get to see all of it (Your Sis went to bed, and they left), it had the makings of a fun horror film. I wanna see the rest. I'm also about halfway through Donnie Darko, and I have no idea where this film is going.

Oh, my official 5k time is listed as 31:03:06. I can beat that. I know I can.

Pictures of the Day
Her jack o'lantern. It's much better than mine.


In the News
I'm so fucking tired of the the campaign ads. But John Kerry is a friggin' idiot for botching a lay-up punchline and handing the GOP a bulletin board sound byte to rally around.

The Rest of the Weekend

I woke up dead tired Saturday morning and drove down to Greenville. A small comic convention was held there, and I picked up my comp copies of the Wide Awake anthology with my four-page story. The other Wide Awakers there had nice things to say about my stuff. The con was giving away copies as door prizes, and we sketched inside the front covers. It's a nice comic. The paper stock and colors are top-notch. This is professional printing all the way. I'm proud to be a part of it. I was asked about doing mini-comics and distributing them through Wide Awake at conventions. That's something I can definitely do. I got my first X-Men comic I ever bought signed by the artist (Dave Cockrum, who designed Storm, Nightcrawler, Colossus, and other iconic X-characters), and I bought an original Archie Comics page for $10. A bargain, I dare say. I shot the shit with the Wide Awakers and had a gay old time.

But I had to scurry off to Spartanburg, and I dropped in on the parents for a few hours. I then headed to the local comic shop where the annual Halloween party was also the store's tenth-anniversary party. I love that comic store. It's pound-for-pound the best in the country (yes, even the ones in Harvard and Kenmore Square). Clear lighting and floorspace, clean presentation. It's a slick packaging of many geek wares. The owners is a great guy and dutifully ships my titles to me each month. And if not him, one of the filthy lackeys. I met up with my comic gang, and learned to my shock that Chris and Jared had a baby. They made costumes for the evening (henchmen from "Venture Brothers"), and we returned to the store, ate some snacks, and then went to a local bar. I love my guys, and I miss them something awful here in Mayberry. Your Sis stayed home and graded papers, and everyone wished she could be in town. I drove back home late Saturday night and slept heavy.

On Sunday, we grabbed groceries and ate at the pub. Coffee, of course, followed, and she went back to work while I lazed about the house. She got back that evening, and we carved pumpkins on the back deck while minding the fire pit. Your Mom called, and we talked about the race. Kathy, Travis, and Anna Claire dropped over for a few hours, and we traded race stories and talked baby stuff. A great night. Not too cold, which is good when your elbow-deep in gourds.



The NFL
Her Teams
New England (6-1), NY Jets (4-4), Oakland (2-5)
Philly (4-4), Detroit (1-6)

My Teams
Miami (1-6), Pittsburgh (2-5)
Philly (4-4), Carolina (4-4)
Carolina couldn't catch a cold Sunday, and their defense was too exhausted to stave off a Dallas flurry in the fourth quarter. Pittsburgh needs to rest their QB for a few weeks, and Philly just can't get it together. Miami? Don't talk to me about Miami.

The Race (post almost as long as run)

Friday was a really long day. I was anxious to get a'runnin' but had to go through a full workday and then kill seven hours before I could start huppin' up the road. Heidi couldn't stay awake and hit the bed at 9:30. I started stretching at 10:00. I watched some TV and eased my way through throwing a leg this way and leaning that way. I drank some warm water. I had eaten a heavy lunch at 3 p.m. and had a six-inch sub at 8 p.m., and that was all I was eating. I seem to run better when I'm hungry.

The weather was not as bad as the early forecasts had stated. It was in the high 40s and drizzly. I wore a sweatshirt -- oh hey, I took a picture:



So, I had my sweatshirt, my Chris Benoit shirt, my luchadore mask, my toy belt, my leather gloves, and the shorts and shoes. Travis, my Brevard buddy, called me at 10:30 to confirm when we were gonna meet up at the race location. After an hour, I packed up some towels, water, camera, extra masks for Travis to choose from, and out the door I went.

The parking lot of the Child Development Center was packed already with cars. Travis had just picked up his registration bag (complete with disappointing race t-shirt and race number). I picked up my bag, and I let him pick out a mask to run in. He chose the La Parka.



I assume the race number was based on order of registration. He was 91. I was number nine. I was told the number paper included a "rip strip" which the officials would take after the race so they could log our official times. I saw about 50 people around the center door, staying in and out of the rain, waiting to start the race. Some had costumes, like this lady in an inflatable airplane:



I chatted with some Travis buddies, all of whom had run before. Of them, I was the lone newbie. Included in them was a triathlete. An older gent.

We moved to the race starting area at 5 til midnight. The organizers yelled out instructions on how to handle the car traffic, which chute to run in at the end of the race, and general thanks for showing up in the rain. I think we had about 60 people at the race start, and we were milling around and chatting. I was near the back of the pack. Suddenly, I heard "GO" and the front of the pack zoomed away.

Travis and I started our boot-camp jog pace. To my relief, I discovered we had the same run rhythm, and staying with him wasn't going to be a problem. I didn't know if he'd be slower or faster than me. The front runners were GONE; they hauled ass down the road. It was very thin around us. Maybe 10 people within 20 yards of us. We hupped down the road for about half a mile before we met up with the older triathlete. He was decked out. Had his super-sheer jacket and a fancy wrist computer for heartbeat and pace stats. He slowed down to match us, sidled next to Travis, and I deferred to them and ran a bit behind. I felt OK with their pace.

My ankles started to hurt first which was unusual. Had to be the downhill angle. I also knew I was going slightly faster than I would prefer. Travis and his friend were starting to quicken, and I kept up with them. We turned onto another road (marked thankfully by a cop blocking car traffic), and we started a slow uphill grade. Cars rolled past us in both directions to our left. Folks stood by the road to watch us. We chatted with other runners who admitted they hadn't done this course before. My quads started to complain, but it was manageable. What surprised me most was I was breathing heavy. I didn't have trouble breathing unless the cramp popped up or I was on the soulkiller hill. I chalked this up to running in a full mask and at a slightly faster pace than I would prefer. But I felt like I was OK with half the distance to go. I made it this far, I thought. The belt acted like a girdle and kept my back straight. But it was heavy and shifted as the clothes settled on me.

We turned onto another road, stopping for a driver who ignored the race signal-folk and drove right through the course. A short turn right again, and we were hitting a steep grade. Travis asked over his shoulder how I was doing. I gave him my quick diagnosis, and he said I was doing great for a first race. This made me feel a little better, and I decided I was gonna tough this out. The grade leveled out, and we turned left to a steep downhill. I had trouble evening out my breath while bounding a little to slow the descent. I was breathing harder than I should have. We had another short uphill, and then a flat stretch before another turn. The rain came down her quickly and then vanished. But I was very wet, and the breath was not there for me. I felt stifled. I took off the gloves and pulled up my sweatshirt sleeves a bit.

We turned left, thanking the cop stopping traffic. We were now back on the main road where we started. But we were right at the bottom of the Jailhouse Hill, and I was already in lung trouble, and my thighs were hardening. I slowed my pace and let Travis and the guy go ahead. I didn't have to keep their pace to finish. Halfway up the hill, I heard cheering and realized we were getting support by people who had already finished and doubled back to watch. I was in some pain here and was split on how to feel about this. It was a nice gesture, but it was a bit condescending. Again, I was hurting here and getting cranky. My legs were locking up, and my breath was gone. I was tempted to take off the mask. I had to switch to power walking to continue moving and alternated jogging with this. Travis and the other guy were gone. I got to the top of the hill, felt my legs loosen up a bit as the grade flattened and went back to the run. It hurt. My head was light and wobbly, and I was squinting to see the finish line. I knew I didn't have long to go so I just threw my legs out in front of me and pumped my arms. My form was shot.

I heard "slow down and move right" and realized I had made it to my chute. I saw a short line in front of me and stopped to be processed. Someone grabbed my ripstrip and took it. Someone else asked my age (and I gave them the wrong one initially; my brains were gone) and told me to walk out from under the tent and back toward the kids center. I knew nobody, and I was dead beat tired. I moseyed toward the center. Some old guy behind me made a comment about the wrestling mask, and soon I was caught by a babbling geezer telling me about living under Ventura's administration in Minnesota. I broke off and walked away.

The center had a table of water bottles and bananas, and I realized I was starving. I gobbled a banana and walked back to the car for my camera. I snapped the finish tent:



and then walked across the street and saw (for the first time) the race clock. When I took this pick, it must have been five minutes after I finished:



I felt pretty good about my time. I found Travis, and we exchanged notes and moved back to the center. I learned some folks had taken a wrong turn and added a mile to their run. As we stood and chatted with other folks, the race organizers handed out awards. To my shock, I was announced as third place for my age division (30-34). Travis was second. We got little ceramic knick-knacks. All the official run times are to be announced later on this week online. The awards wear all given out (as Travis and another pal of his and I traded Chuck Norris jokes). The triathlete said we had averaged a 6.2 mph pace (much faster than my normal 5.5) and had topped out at a stunning 9 mph pace. Someone handed out flyers for an upcoming 5k to launch the town Christmas festivities. But it's a morning race, and I run better at night. It was now 1:20, and we were beat. We went home.

I chatted with a groggy Heidi and showered. As I took off the clothes, I noticed how bulky the clothes felt, and I realized only then that this stuff was heavy. I got on the scale, noted the weight, took off the shirts, and weighed myself again. Yep, the wet shirts added 5 pounds. I had saddled myself with bad running clothes, and that's why i was out of fuel.

But I did it.

I'm Almost Through Talking About Running

The race is tonight. I haven't run since Tuesday, and I only did light exercise Wednesday. Last night, I did nothing that could be described as exercise. I'll do some light work tonight, work up a sweat, and stretch an hour before the race. Travis and I will meet up not long beforehand, and I'll offer him a wrestling mask to wear. I bought more Velcro to adhere to the wrestling belt. It's meant for kids and barely fits on me. As if I didn't feel fat before all this started. I'm eager to end the day and get a'runnin'. I've anticipated this for two years. It's going to be wet tonight, raining all day and into the night, but not as cold as first forecast. I hope to have a heavy lunch today (work permitting) and snack the rest of the evening.

Picture of the Day
Art created with one sheet of paper. You can see more here.


In the News
An Australian Islamic cleric made a ruckus by suggesting that women who don't wear the veil bear responsibility for rape. Why is this news? Christian fundamentalists say the same thing. Christian radio host Dr. Albert Mohler (heard here daily) instructs brides to consider the male attendees of their wedding lest their dresses arouse lust. There's no difference.

She's Sick Again

Your Sis should enter the Olympics for cold catching. She stayed in the sick bed last night after watching "Studio 60" (a standout episode) and finishing off pumpkin pie. My gym rearranged their equipment so I couldn't use the weights, and they reduced the number of treadmills. I ran about 3 miles there yesterday, but I was bookended by people who apparently missed the other available treadmills. I don't like the kind of clustering; it's a small neurosis.

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (5-1), NY Jets (4-3), Oakland (1-5)
Philly (4-3), Detroit (1-6)

My Teams
Miami (1-6), Pittsburgh (2-4)
Philly (4-2), Carolina (4-3)
Carolina's losses to Minnesota and Cincinnati were caused by late turnovers. They should be 6-1. Miami is just horrible. Thoroughly, utterly bad. Pittsburgh can't get rolling, and their quarterback now has a concussion on top of his recovery from an offseason motorcycle wreck.

Picture of the Day
Now this is cool. This is what the shuttle launch looks like from the international space station.


In the (Geek) News
Lucas obviously cribbed material from Japanese filmmaker Kirosawa for Star Wars. Hunt down a film called Hidden Fortress and watch in shock. But a French site is now comparing Star Wars to mid-'70s European comics. The similarities are startling.

Fourth 5k

[Samuel L. Jackson voice] Yes, it was fucking cold out there. Yes, it was windy. Yes, I saw snow as I left work. But if I'm going to run in the mountains at midnight three nights before Halloween, I had to know how it would feel. So I ran. I ran 5k. In the muthafuckin cold goddammit. [/Samuel L. Jackson voice]

I got home from work, pulled on a sweatshirt, wore some baggy shorts, donned a ski cap, and, to quote George Thorogood, out the door I went. For the first half mile, I regreted not wearing gloves, but that pain faded soon. It felt like my lungs were leaking. I had less lungpower, and I blame the cold for that more than the wind. Once the wind died down, the run was not bad, but the wind made the air much sharper. The legs were fine, the cramping was minimal (to which I credit the inability to breathe deep), and my head felt OK with the cap. I think I'll indeed run with a luchadore mask Friday night. My legs were bright red from the run, by the way. I passed by two runners last night, both young women, and now I wonder if I've done enough to be considered a member of the running community. Maybe it's too early for that.

I was winded more than usual after the run, and again I blame the cold. Travis called to say he ran a little bit yesterday to acclimate to the temperature and would definitely be there for the race. I told Your Sis that she didn't have to be there. It's going to be a late night.

I've run 5k four times in two weeks. I'm 34 years old. I've never tried something like this before, and except for random leg aches, I feel pretty good. I'll hit the gym lightly tonight.

Picture of the Day
Saturn has been my favorite planet since elementary school. We studied them in I think third grade. I was a little space nut. I read Sagan's Cosmos, and I got space books for Christmas and birthdays because I was such the nerd. AndI read them all because I was such the nerd. Jupiter may have the Red Spot, and Uranus may have vertical rings (or is that Neptune?), but Saturn as the first God King and head of the Titans, and I read mythology too as a kid. Double nerd! Gaze upon the coldness of space. That's what it felt like last night. And with that, I shall cease the whining.

In the News
During the 2004 elections, Democrats called for a timetable to hand over control of Iraq security to that country so we could bring our guys home. That was packaged by the GOP as "cut and run." Two years later, the U.S. bigwigs in Iraq announced they have a timetable to hand over control of Iraq security to the country so we could bring our guys home. This can cyncically and appropriately be called "midterm election desperation." After three years of repeating "stay the course," Bush said in a recent ABC interview that he never said "stay the course."

We Got Movie Sign

Because it was very cold and Your Sis was tired, we did not go to the high school game but bought a pizza and rooted ourselves to the new loveseat. We watched House of Flying Daggers, one of about a dozen Chinese martial arts movies starring Ziyi Zhang. Everyone knows Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but my favorite so far is Hero. It's nonstop, eye-popping goodness. Oh, Daggers wasn't bad, but it couldn't live up to the Hero standard. And I'll happily watch Zhang for two hours.

Before I got home that night, I hopped into Wal-Mart to find a costume, and it was only when I strolled the toy section did it hit me. I found a toy replica of the WWE U.S. title belt, and I decided to put together as much of a wrestler costume as possible. I've got luchadore masks and wrestling t-shirts. I bought the belt and some athletic tape for my wrists. And that's really all I need. Costume finished. Now, I'm not sure I can run in that mask, but if it's cold enough, yeah, I think I will.

Saturday I finally saw the race route, and it's easier than what I've been running. In fact, right before I bought the new shoes, I ran 3/4 of the course. Look at the comparisons of the elevations.



The W in the top line shows where I turn around and go back up Jailhouse Hill. The only drawback to the race route is that the hill is closer to the end of the race than it is to the end of my regular run. When I run and hit that hill, I've still got a mile to go. In the race, we'll have half that. That means I have less time to settle back into my run and sail to the end. I worry about the traffic control because we'll be running during the first night of the weekend-long Halloween events. And of course the cold. We picked up most of some wine bought at the previous weekend's tasting and looked at stove wire for making candle holders for the front walk. Your Sis napped most of the day, and I worked on her drawing some more. That night we watched Dave Chappelle's Block Party, an energetic film that not only shows how easily Dave is funny, but also presents one helluva concert.

On Sunday, we put up Halloween decorations and bought pumpkins to carve later this week. I still have decorations given to me by the crazy ex-neighbor who emailed me a few months back about the divorce. We walked the older cat outside -- yep, on a leash -- for about a half hour. We hoped to have Kathy and Travis over for pie and coffee, but they had to cancel. Baby Stress. It happens. So the two of us instead watched Master and Commander and ate some pie. This is quickly becoming one of my favorite movies, and I'm still curious to hear the commentary. We've enjoyed the film itself so much we haven't gotten to the commentary yet.

I just returned the Cat on a Hot Tin Roof script to theatre. Holy ow, it's cold outside, and the wind is everywhere. Tonight I hope to run for the last outdoor 5k before Friday night. But this is gonna be a hard run tonight. This is gonna suck.

Picture of the Day
Here's what the belt looks like. It's actually a stylish belt plate, much different from traditional wrestling belts. It's a toy belt I bought, and it barely fits me.

Third 5k

There's something quite manly about running in the rain on a fall evening. I didn't plan to run that route; I left the house thinking I'd run another, shorter path. I had my little reflecting vest on, and I had left my glasses at home. But I got to the bottom of our street, and I decided I should stick to the sidewalks, and that took me on my regular run, and forty minutes later I was done. It felt good. The big hill is still a bitch to climb, but I didn't have to pause immediately afterward. I have to contact the Chamber of Commerce for the race details (what time we show up, the course, etc.). Your Sister got home about an hour later, and we ate pub food. If I run 3 miles, I deserve a fat burger. And right next to us sat Angry Dad. We had small talk with him and his wife about running. It went smoothly, and I was unnecessarily polite to him. I must put up Halloween decorations this weekend and get me a running costume.

Just got an email saying the local comic convention will serve as a publishing party for the Halloween comic I'm a part of. This is the day after the midnight race. It'll be murder waking up for it, but I gots ta go. I might even sign autographs or do sketches for the kiddies.

Picture of the Day
See how closely the 300 film follows the comic. You can view more side-by-side comparisons here.


In the News
There may be no worse time (or, if you will, no later a time) for the administration to admit Iraq is the current version of the Vietnam War. We've lost 70 troops this month alone. NPR analysts say the GOP admits the House is lost to them, but their Senate control can be retained if they keep two seats in Missouri, Tennessee, or Virginia.

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They're still finding 9/11 body parts in New York City.

+ + +

Ebert's review of the new Marie Antionette film is so well written, it almost makes me want to see it. But I won't. I didn't dig Lost in Translation, the previous film by Sophia Coppola. By the way, Ebert is back from a summer cancer surgery, and it's good to see he hasn't lost a step.

Run Management

I hit the treadmill Tuesday on a gym date with Your Sis. I have eight days til the race, and I'm not sure how to manage the exercise before then. I'd like to run 5k twice before next Friday, but I worry about burning myself out. I may run tonight and then run Sunday or Tuesday. I mowed the lawn last night at lightspeed to make it a form of exercise. Then I made stir-fry.

My Stir Fry Recipe
Two Chicken Breast Fillets cubed
One diced yellow or red pepper
A small can of pineapple chunks
Half a jar of hoisin sauce
Sprinkles of Mongolian Fire Oil
Dashes of Garlic Powder
Dashes of Szechuan Seasoning
Healthy squirts of Lime juice
freshly ground black pepper (I like a lot)

Put it all in a big Ziplock bag and in the fridge of about 20 hours. Stir fry it enough so the sauce reduces and the chicken cooks thoroughly. You're essentially boiling it. Put over rice and devour.

I still need a running costume.

We watched "Six Feet Under," "Lost," and "The Nine." OK, she watched "The Nine," and I read an article on mass elephant insanity.

Picture of the Day

I'm Gonna Audition

I finished Cat on A Hot Tin Roof last night. In case you haven't seen it, here's a quick synopsis: Margaret and Brick are childless because Brick is depressed over the death of his football-buddy Skipper who professed his love for Brick before dying of heartbreak. Brick's father is dying and will surely leave his huge estate to the first son, Gooper, and his horde of ill-bred kids. But the family isn't telling Big Daddy that he's dying of cancer and have in fact told him he only has a spastic colon. Daddy confronts Brick over his alcoholism and relationship with Skipper, and Brick retaliates by telling him of the cancer. Hilarity ensues.

Now I don't think I can play Brick. He's got to be athletic, and I'm slightly too slight for that. But Gooper is a snake in the grass trying to manipulate his mother into securing the estate to him. He's smart, but desperately unsubtle about his aims. It's a good role. It's the kind of role you can steal the show with, and that's what I can do with him. But it would be a small miracle for me to get that role. It would be too similar to what happened with Greenville Little Theatre. I auditioned for the first time and get a good supporting part in a Williams play. Gooper's a fine part, though. Too good to not try. I told Your Sis about it, and she OKed it. Auditions are in three weeks. I could memorize the part in that much time.

I discovered that, as with Glass Menagerie, Williams rewrote Cat. His first version is just about perfect, but he wrote another third act to accomodate director Elia Kazan, and I don't know which the Asheville company will present. Gooper doesn't change too much in the second version, but everyone does lose some power. The writing's clipped and rushed. The first ending is stronger, and I hope that's what they use.

Picture of the Day
Just one example of clever ads from around the world


In The News
I attribute North Korea's sabre-rattling to Condi Rice's Asia visit. No, I'm not blaming her, but she's to whom the recent comments are targeted. Her reactions and ability to weave together the support of Korea's neighbors are key.

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The NYTimes reports Bush met with several talk-show hosts (registration may be needed) to organize talking points. A picture shows Mike Gallagher, Neal Boortz, Laura Ingraham, Sean Hannity and Michael Medved listening to Bush make his policy detials clear. The administration is concerned that conservative radio and TV shows are drifting away from their once solid policy support. The above-mentioned hosts go to great lengths, as does Limbaugh, to say they are conservative before they are Republican. Others say they are neither and are independent, yet they often side with the administration. They hope to play the role of an unaffiliated voter who happens to agree with the administration to make those policies appeal to moderates and undecideds. I don't begrudge them for jumping on the conservative talk bandwagon. It's the easiest show to syndicate to small-town AM radio, and small-town radio needs syndicated shows to get local advertising money. If you want to see someone who clearly jumped aboard, look at Dennis Miller. His schtick switched from cynical to conservative about three years ago. But the hosts' loyalty wavers when the poll numbers drop as evidenced by this come-to-Jesus meeting. The administration needs those shows; they are the unofficial conservative-government media and crucial for the upcoming elections. The hosts may want to appeal to the administration (and score interviews with the big guys), but they must listen to their callers and sponsors. And those two are swaying away from blind support as the administration sloughs its conserative ideals of minimal government and fiscal responsibility.

Second 5k

We watched the high-school homecoming Friday night but left before the third quarter ended. It was cold. We were tired.

I got up Saturday morning and ran another 5k. There was still frost on the ground, and the cold air made breathing tricky. I've got to get used to it before the midnight race at the end of the month. The big hill continues to kick my ass. The effects of the exercise are apparent. I've gone down a few belt notches, and my shoulders (of all things) are more developed.

We grabbed a late lunch at a local sports bar and killed time before heading to a wine tasting. The downtown culinary store hosts one of these every few months or so, and we're on the mailing list because we bought so much kitchen stuff there during the move. This time there were four distributors with their own table and labels. We liked the Vampire Merlot from Romania, and Your Sister dug the Gewurtztraminer. A college buddy of mine dropped into town during the event, and she hadn't been to a tasting before. We showed her the ropes and let her loose. We then hit the pub for a late and slightly buzzed dinner.

The next morning, we tried to eat at the college cafeteria, but it was Fall Break. We instead went to Huddle House, a close cousin of Waffle House. Minus the jukebox, unfortunately. She wanted to see Connastee Falls, and we took the very short trail to the official waterfall viewing area. Then we noticed a natural rock staircase off to the side and hidden by the trees. We shambled down it, left it, continued down the slope, and found ourselves at the middle of the falls. We then shimmied back up and only then discovered the sign forbidding us to use this path. But it wasn't for us, I'm sure. It was for drunken morons who try it at night. We then followed another trail until we noticed what appeared to be a faint path down the mountainside and next to the river. We carefully slid down the side (and we're talking about a 50-degree slope), locking our feet against roots and trees. We indeed found a fantastic spot next to the river at the foot of the falls. And then we struggled back up the mountain. It was a lively bout of inadvertent hiking. We got back to my house around noon, and she had to head back home, but not before dishing some gossip on my ex.

Your Sis and I got groceries and made dinner for Travis and Kathy who were making their return to our place for the first time since Anna Claire was born. Unfortunately, as I was putting away my clothes, I noticed that my closet rod anchor was falling out of the wall. Seems wood-and-metal hangers doubles the weight. I had to clear out the closet and rehang the pole with a screw anchor, a necessary item the previous owners didn't install. That took longer than it should have. I reassmbled the closet and started on the salad just as the pair and baby arrived. We had homemade spaghetti and Blitmore Sangiovese. It was a wonderful. We shot the shit for hours and polished off some blueberry wine made by a local teacher buddy. The baby was again a quiet companion, and the cats didn't bother her too much. Kathy borrowed the first season of "Lost" on DVD and watched the beginning of the third season as it aired this month. We had to straighten out some confusion that caused without giving away too much. Travis said he's still up for the 5k race.

I'm halfway through Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, a play that not only pummels you with its title throughout the script (I've counted six times the phrase is used so far), but features an harrowing two-person first act wherein the lead woman will not shut up about the crushing expectations of Southern gentility. The second act picked up well once the father and son start hashing it out, but that first act is enough to give me second thoughts on auditioning. Williams is an acquired taste but also a community theatre staple. One of my Odd Couple compadres was just in Cat within the last few months, and I'm sure he knocked that role right out of the park. I think I'd rather see him do it than try it myself. At the very least I should audition. Get my name out there.

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (4-1), NY Jets (3-3), Oakland (0-5)
Philly (4-2), Detroit (1-5)

My Teams
Miami (1-5), Pittsburgh (2-3)
Philly (4-2), Carolina (4-2)

Picture of the Day
This is the view you get when you bypass posted danger signs.


In the News
Of course the most pressing concern after the Hawaii earthquake is that it not disturb the shooting schedule for "Lost."