- The wind is shaking down the trees for loose change outside my window. I hear the coins clattering on the sidewalk down below. It would be so easy to just walk down and scoop them up, put them in my pocket and be the richer for it. But somehow it just doesn't feel right. I haven't earned them. Besides, I'm too lazy to put my flip-flops on.
- Do you ever wish you had a super power? What would it be? Mine? I would love to have the ability to make little, old ladies walk in a straight fucking line down the sidewalk. I hate trying to get around them and I always wind up feeling guilty later for hip-checking them into the fire hydrants.
- When I was a kid, my grandfather used to take me outside to watch "shooting star shows". I would make a wish every time I saw one of those blazing lines streak across the sky. I would be so excited for them to come true that I could barely get to sleep at night. The next morning I'd awake and find that my wish hadn't come true. There wasn't a new bike/swimming pool/Millennium Falcon sitting in the back yard, I'd pout. My grandfather would pick me up and put me on his knee and say "Don't waste your wishes on anything that will rust." When I got older and learned that they weren't "shooting stars" but rather meteors burning up in the Earth's atmosphere, I understood how Adam and Eve felt when they realized they'd been naked the whole time. But that didn't stop me from scanning the night sky, as I walked to my car in the hospital parking lot, as my grandfather lay dying in a strange bed. By the time I finally saw one, it was too late, his insides had already rusted over.
- Whenever I watch my nieces and nephew I can't help but wander what it would be like if people never out-grew the tantrum. I mean, wouldn't you love to see some guy in your office trying to get out of a meeting by going completely limp, the boss dragging his dead weight towards the conference room? I know I would.
- Sometimes I worry that my memories have all been replaced by short stories written by Frank Capra. This sucks for two reasons. One: I'm pretty sure he didn't even write short stories. Two: None of them are memorable enough to merit repeating.
- I think, when the final history book is written about our time here on Planet Earth, it won't be global warming or nuclear holocaust or plague that is penciled in after "Cause of Death". It will be stubbornness.
You can see this show for free on Sunday if you're an industry type. Just get to the Cultural Center by 2:45 and say "Industry" when you get to the box office. And then prepare yourself for a show unlike anything you've ever seen before. Well, unless you see a lot of Dada-ist theater. It's a very enjoyable, entertaining, magical show. And it's free this Sunday. Go.
I know I've mentioned the play I'm in right now, Dream a Little Dream. It's part of the Rhino Fest over at Prop Thtr. Monday nights at 9pm. But just in case you're on the fence about whether or not you want to attend, let me offer you a little incentive.
- I'm as excited as the next guy to get to work in the mornings. But you don't see me pushing past people to make sure I get a seat on the train. Oh no. I'd much rather stand over you, my crotch perched precariously close to your shoulder, glaring at the top of your head, trying to will my kinetic powers to life so you'll suddenly be reduced to a small pile of smoldering ash. I'm funny like that.
- I was reading in the latest issue of Discover Magazine that researchers might be able to "cure" certain kinds of mental retardation. By noodling around with a certain chromosome they have been able to reverse the effects in mice. This got me to thinking about how the number of children born with Downs Syndrome has dropped because there is a test - not always accurate - that can determine whether a child will be born with it and that most parents are opting to abort the fetus. Here's my question: If they "cure" mental retardation, will the word "retarded" slowly disappear from the lexicon? Because I use that word a lot. And I don't want people, years from now, looking at me like I'm, well, retarded, for using it because they don't know what it means.
- Along with fossil fuels, there are a number of other resources that are on their way out, thanks to our insatiable appetite for consumer products. Silver, platinum and copper mines, to name three, are probably going to be exhausted in the next 15 years. These elements are used in everything from car parts to computer chips. I'm sure someone is working on sustainable alternatives, but what happens if they're not? What will we do when the last plasma tv rolls off the line and there's no way of making another? Or the last cell phone? How will we cope? In another fifty years or so, who will rise up to teach us how to do without these goods? The Amish, that's who. Mark my words. You make fun of their horse drawn buggies and mock their facial hair choices now, but one day you'll be grateful that someone knows how to bake a loaf of bread without a Kitchen Aid Mixer.
- I worry that I have an unusually large amount of wax in my ears. I wonder what the "average" amount it. What's healthy? And what, if any, other uses it has besides balling it up and flicking it at the cat? Maybe it can be used to replace platinum in the catalytic converters in cars?
- What kind of a world do we live in where our government will spend millions of taxpayer dollars to try to impeach a president who got a b.j. in the Oval Office, but won't lift a finger to try and educate the public that there is no "B" in "supposedly"?
- Thanks for your friendship. I know I don't say it enough. I mean, this is the age of cynicism after all, but we should be allowed a break every now and again to say what we're really feeling without having eyes rolled at us or being called a pussy. And I know that when you do call me a pussy, you're really saying "Hey friend, I don't have the emotional maturity to say it, but I love you." Unless you're really just calling me a pussy, in which case you're a retard.
I checked out a rehearsal for WNEP's next DADA show, Blinde Essel Hopse (Blind Donkey Hopscotch), on Saturday. I've never seen a DADA show before, so I wasn't exactly sure what I was getting in to. I'm not going to "review" it because I was taking pictures and when I'm behind the camera I tend to tune everything else out. So while I can tell you that the show looks really cool, I don't think I could do it justice trying to tell you what it's about. Never the less, if the images are any indication, you need to get your kiester to the Cultural Center this Friday night.
