Top 5 Updates

Alright kids, here’s the dish:

1) I got my new website up & running (duh).  It’s a shiny new toy & I hope to spend hours & hours in the next few weeks turning it into a home.  If you have any suggestions or thoughts, let a brother know.

2) I auditioned last weekend for a part in a play that’s going to be done as a component of the SF Fringe Festival.  I didn’t get the parts though.  I did, however, learn a lot from that audition experience.  Thank you to the ManTrip men for helping me celebrate getting the audition; thank you to the Bay to Breakers crowd for supporting me actually going to the audition while y’all were still here; and as always, thank you to my wife for talking me down from ledges.  (Only a few roles require auditioning from a ledge.)

3) I do have ANOTHER audition lined up for next weekend – but this one involves singing.  Holy crap.  Does anyone know where I can find sheet music for Elvis songs?  Seriously.  Buckle up.  Audition is the 31st, so look for an update here around the 3rd or so.

4) I’m still working on comedy for open-mic / stand-up formats, but that’s taken a bit of a back seat lately to all the auditon prep & regular acting classes, not to mention all the business trips, vacations & guests we’ve had.  However, if you happen to be keeping score, you’ll know that Open-Mic Night #1 is not far off…

5) Work is work, though I’m less than thrilled with the negativity that circulates ad nauseam these days.  And no one seems to be willing to try anything different than what we’ve already done – all of my suggestions get forwarded on into the realm of the “If Only We Weren’t Scared Of Screwing Up We’d Do Something Like This.”  So on a scale of 1 to Not Motivated, I’m definitely Not Motivated.

… No no, I said Top 5, I meant Top 5.  Go back to your BBQ – happy Memorial Day.  Unless you’re Canadian.

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How’s That For A Slice of Fried Gold?

My dear friend Shorty, an MFA student at UMich, has just won first place in the 2009 Hopwood Awards for Short Fiction. He has also just performed his Master’s reading, where he read his short story “Kobe” for an audience of +100 people, of which the wyf & I & some other friends were part. Now, all the boy has to do to add MFA to his name is hand in his thesis (which is actually just 100 pages of solid material), and then figure out how to pronounce Shortymfa. I’m partial to the straight-forward & logical “Shorteemfa”, but he likes the more exotic & hyphenated “Short-yim-fay.” He would.

It was a great reading. If he happens to permit it, I’ll post the story here – it’s awesome. Plus the wyf & I (& even my sister) were PRESENT when a couple of the story’s elements were born, so we’re indirectly famous. :)

So glad we got to be here in Ann Arbor to a) see the reading; b) share the experience of winning the Hopwood Award with him & his family (Ed, Dee & Jen were all here too!); and c) totally extract some inspiration from the fact that the guy’s been cave-caged for 10 years and finally got recognized for his work. And now there’re even bigger possibilities opening up for him… which I can’t share here, but let’s just say he could break big and SOON. Couldn’t happen to a better guy.

Congrats, Shorty.

Also, Ann Arbor is FRIKKIN’ COLD.

Speaks for Itself

Emotion as Energy

You know how sometimes you get SO angry, SO upset, SO sad, that your body just has to express it physically? Fist-shaking, tear-producing, breath-taking… all of these physio responses to strictly emotional states. I’m no doctor (well, not a certified one, anyway), but it would seem to me that these emotions only create chemical reactions within your brain & your body. As a result, your body’s movement, speed, temperature and oxygen levels change. The production of adrenaline, the most common emotion-induced response, forces your body to manifest emotion physically, which requires energy, sometimes vast amounts of it.

Think about the last time you had a huge fight with someone, or a time you got REALLY angry at something – your blood starts pumping, you can feel your heart beating in your throat, your skin gets warm, you start to tense up in your arms and your chest and your neck… sweat forms, your breathing gets deeper, your voice rises, maybe you even start shaking with rage. (Okay, maybe this is just how angry I get, but go with me a minute, mmkay?) Why does your body react this way? Fight or flight response, okay… but why can’t the mind discern the difference between a threat on my life (which would rightly invoke the aformentioned physical response) and a stupid comment that just tipped me over the edge, like the bus driver who won’t move the bus until everyone moves back but refuses to do anything to GET people to move back other than push the damn button for the pre-recorded message 928 times in a row?? Shouldn’t I be able to conserve the energy used by the Fight/Flight Response in all cases except when I actually need to fight or fly? What’s the biological reasoning behind it?

What it says to me is that maybe there’s no real way for the brain to tell the difference between fear & anger & sadness & despair. I think and feel differently depending on the emotion – I’m less ANGRY at the dude coming at me with a blade than I am AFRAID of him, just like I’m less AFRAID of the passive/aggressive bus driver than I am ANGRY at him – but the internal physical/chemical reaction does not appear to be differentiated.

What does this mean? I have no idea. But my question for you today is this: does the emotional response CREATE additional energy within your body, which then forces you to manifest it physically by shaking your fists and getting sweaty? Or does it simply DRAW existing energy from your system & cause it to come out in these intense, short-lived physical actions?

You might say that the evidence for DRAW is over-whelming; after all, don’t we all get exhausted after a big outburst or a sobfest of sadness? If the emotions CREATE energy, why wouldn’t it just be a spike in physical activity that returns to the base levels, instead of a spike followed by this trough of exhaustion? (This is where I wish Blogger had a graphing function so as to better illustrate it, but hopefully it’s simple enough to visualize what I mean.)

But if this were the case, that emotional reactions simply cause you to expend already-existing energy at a faster rate… well, you can see where I’m going: energy in the body = calories. If emotions consume energy at a higher than normal rate (i.e. metabolism), they consume calories much faster, which is another way of saying they increase your burn rate (a.k.a. metabolism).

So if emotions INCREASE your metabolism, why don’t we see Oprah and Jessica Simpson touting the ANGER Diet? Hell, come to it, why wasn’t Sam Kinison built like a slender reed? Why don’t we have Anger-exics refusing to eat in a really over-dramatic bout of rage or sadness?

If you think ‘medical ethics’ would prevent people from doing this, you’re dead-ass wrong. They approved Fen-Phen, didn’t they? At least the Anger Diet is all natural. Sure, the side effects are probably the same: high blood pressure, increased urination, sweating, sleep crime, loss of friends… but it’s free – you don’t even have a $10 co-pay.

I guarantee that if anger, sadness, whatever emotion you choose, actually BURNED more calories over a shorter period of time – the WHOLE POINT of our $10B a year fitness industry – someone (probably Susan Powter) would’ve launched this diet & accompanying cookbooks by now. So it must be true that huge emotional responses CREATE energy.

So what does that mean? Think big here, folks. Imagine a world…

… where we hook up angry fatties like Rush Limbaugh, Roseanne, Oprah, Ralphie May… all of ‘em, hook ‘em up to a glorified hamster wheel and let them power the whole damn grid

… maybe we even get the really depressed people all worked up & crying, then hook up their sobs to the Prozac plant so that the pharmaceuticals industry, one of the most energy-intensive industries in the country, at least starts to achieve self-maintenance

… if you’re a big fan of DIY or just want to do your part to save the environment, just kick your kid in the face, plug him in & power the oven for an hour until the meatloaf’s done. Energy crisis averted.

Of course, all the anger & depression combined in the U.S. can’t possibly be rivaled by that of the Middle East (yet another market they’ve cornered), so I suppose we’d still be a little import-dependent. At least it gives them a productive outlet for their religious rage – better than making women feel ashamed for “showing too much ankle”.

I don’t know, I think I’m on to something here. I’m writing a letter to Obama, let him know what’s what. He needs to fix it! Make it happen.

Makes sense to me. You in?

Crackling

Can’t seem to sleep. Brain’s still too active – it’s crackling, like a slow-burning log on the fireplace. Can’t sleep until it’s out. Been a few high-energy days in a row, and I guess it’s taking a while to calm down today. Figured I might as well blog until I start to ember.

I think one of my next projects is to put together my acting resume and get some headshots. I really think I need more of this acting stuff in my life, and it’d be great to do it for a real audience and maybe even not have to pay for it. The classes are great, for sure, but they’re a) expensive; and b) exclusive – as in I can’t invite friends into the audience. I’d love to be in something that people can actually come see. So I’m going to get headshots, a resume, and start auditioning.

Yikes.

Comedy hasn’t fizzled out completely, just been stoking the actor fires a little more frequently. Although I did think of a new bit today in the gym. Gotta work on that one before I forget it. Could add to the five or so minutes I’ve already got, then tighten up the whole thing & make it my first set. That, my friends, could happen this summer. THIS SUMMER.

YIKES.

I would love to go back to my ten year reunion & say I’m married, live in San Francisco, am gainfully employed, am acting, AND am doing a stand-up routine. That would be a proud day for me; I don’t care how good Hylton’s soccer career is going, I’ll still be proud.

Hylton. Hmmph. I’m interested to see where he ended up. Big heart he had. Even bigger brain. His ego was rumored to match, though I can’t say I ever saw much evidence of that. But if that’s what he had going for him, I hope he put it to good use. Either to good use, or to pursue what made him happy, which, apparently, may have been farming, soccer, and lots of Bibles. I’ll bet the bookshelf in his bedroom has at least three versions of the Bible on it. He’s probably only read two.

OH! So this one dude in my acting class completely blew off his final scene & his scene partner. He gets the Douche Bag of the Month Award. Let’s call him Douchey Le Dickbag. Mr. Le Dickbag waited until the first week after scenes had been assigned, and then just STOPPED attending class. And never bothered to tell his scene partner until he randomly showed up at one of her culinary events TWO DAYS AGO. They were supposed to do their final scene next week, and he tells her on Tuesday, “Oh, yeah, I dropped that class.” Now she has to rehearse & deliver a two-minute monologue that she’s never seen or heard before. In six days. I have faith in her ability to pull it off, but I just hope SHE’S convinced she can do it – otherwise, the whole thing could turn her off from acting altogether, which would be a shame because I can tell she likes it & would probably do some pretty great stuff if she kept at it. But now all that’s at risk because of Douchey’s ultimate dose of up-fuckery.

He’s dead to me. No, I’m serious. That’s just a completely irresponsible attitude, and all this shit is just supposed to be FUN. If you don’t want to do it, don’t take the damn class! Don’t risk a scene partner’s experience and slough it off like it’s not a commitment you’re breaking. Shit’s too important to people. Take some frikkin’ accountability, you frikkin’ troll doll. (Literally – this douche LOOKS like a 5’9 version of a Troll Doll, with hair that makes him seem 3″ taller.)

Alright. Rant over. I’m off to dream of a world where people don’t rob from the bank of scholarly trust.

Destroy! CREATE! Destroy! CREATE! Sexify! … What?

Wow. Been a while, no? Let’s get right into it then, shall we?

I’m a happier person again. Don’t know that it was any one thing that helped flip my switch from Grumplestiltskin to Groovolicious, but more likely it’s a convergence of the following developments, in a very particular order:

1) The Wyf: still awesome. Getting awesomer. We figure sh*t out together, we lean on & support each other, and damned if we don’t even occasionally have a great time together. Sure, there are things we’ll work on to make them more of what we want, but that’s part of the deal – we aren’t buying a dozen roses; we’re planting a frikkin’ garden. Unapologetically, marriage is yardwork. Sometimes it’s fun, sometimes it’s hard, sometimes it smells great, sometimes it smells like sh*t, but it’s always rewarding to get out there and work on it. It will yield roses, and on occasion, it will yield parsnips. No matter what comes up, though, as long as you don’t get overrun by boll weevils, you should feel fulfilled. Small piece of advice, though: try not to forget to stop working every once in a while & look up & enjoy what you’ve planted. No point in doing the work if you can’t enjoy the results of what you’ve done together.

2) Job: feeling pretty good about it. I’m good at it. They pay me well enough to afford the things we need, and a lot of the things we want. They like me. They let me be funny & creative, even if they don’t pay me specifically for those skills. And they recognize that there is such a thing as a work-life balance, and they actually support the latter half of it quite well. Honestly, couldn’t find much to complain about, other than the fact that it isn’t acting, and that’s mostly my fault – I’m CHOOSING to stay there right now, instead of diving into acting/comedy/poverty. I own that decision.

3) Acting: my new favorite activity. Not that it wasn’t a major nexus of pleasure already (yes, that sounds dirty… so what?), but I think I hesitated to admit how much I love doing it because it’s such a hard thing to do with any regularity. I mean, I either have to give up a healthy paycheck at a job I’m good at & risk making next to nothing at acting; OR I have to commit to acting only after 7pm and weekends, which takes me away from the wyf. The middle-ground between regularity of acting (what I want) & maintaining the current level of income & slight dissatisfaction that I’m not regularly acting (where I am today) is to continue taking classes. Eventually, after enough classes, I’ll actually be pretty damn good at it, and the risk of making next to nothing goes away. Or so the theory goes. Then, maybe, just maybe, regular acting becomes a possibility.

4) Family: when there’s something positive to report here, I will let you know. In the meantime, let’s pretend we never said anything about this, mmkay? Greeeaaat.

5) Future: working on all of the above is unexpectedly but welcomely rewarding. My next mission is to support the wyf in finding whatever it is she needs to keep motivated. So far the front-runner on that short list of possibilities is a house in Morris or Somerset Counties of New Jersey. Yes, that’s right. We’re converting to Jerseyism. Eventually. Workin’ with Boss Man Joe to figure out the professional angle; from there, workin’ with House Man Jim to figure out the shelter angle; from there, workin’ with the meat thermometer to figure out the dangle’s angle. (… Okay, that was a stretch even for me. Edit-Undo that in your brain for me. The shortcut is Ctrl-Z, which basically means you put your pinky in your ear and do a mental math problem.)

6) Potpourri: managing to stay in shape, finally got back on a pair of skis last weekend (and never fell!), got to see Robin Williams do stand-up LIVE at Bimbo’s a few weeks ago, Cermak was out & visited for the first time, and I’m too busy doing other things to have a lot of spare time/energy/wit to devote to Wyltie. My apologies for that last bit. Hopefully I’ll be able to do better, if I can make this a bigger priority. Stay tuned…

Congrats to Josh Snyder for getting into a sketch comedy troupe in L.A. The Loan-Out Love Box. Look for it soon.

Congrats to Emmy Weise for getting married. Best of luck to you and… the lucky guy.

Congrats to my sister for kicking a$$ with her new business. She & Gail are extremely intrepid event planners & PR people – look for them to get big.

Best wishes to Erin McDonald as she plans her June wedding; all the love & support we can muster for Dani & Alan Neff as they get ready to welcome a new Nefflette into their world.

Best of luck to Brian Brummitt as he continues living the dream in Hollywood.

Special thanks to Andy Alabran for taking extra time to help an aspiring actor who had no idea where to start.

And finally, warm regards to Shorty & Seth – we need to catch up soon.

If I didn’t mention you, maybe you should come see me & Wyltie more often. Y’know, make the connections, get your face out there… got to be seen if you want to be remembered.

Oh, Nine…

Yes, yes, the inevitable self-reflecting post that comes with every new year. This year, comrades, will be different. Nine is my favorite number, as it is the first odd perfect square, and it’s the number around which every single math skill I have is built. What does this mean? Well, aside from the fact that I’m a Supreme Nerd, consider that I’m also a bit superstitious. Maybe it’s the little Chinese man in me (we all have one… even Oprah), but I feel like the calendar year that represents one or several 9s has GOT to be especially significant to me – and ever the optimist, I believe it will of course be especially POSITIVE.  For instance, 1999 was a VERY good year.  Full scholarship to Penn State, lost my virginity, and made two of my life-long best friends.  It was 3x as good as any year I’ve ever had, and it had 3 nines in it.  It’s science.

So this year will be awesome, and I’ll start it off with an awesome post.  This could easily be another ‘here are my resolutions that I resolve during this first week of the year when everyone else is also resolving’ blog post, and you would still love me.  But because I am insanely creative & ever so Nerd-ertaining, let’s turn up the Awesome.  Presented below are all of the superheroes I will be by the end of 2009.

HERO #1: MISTER MANAGER

Secret Identity: Mediocre analyst who steals time from the company to blog, twitter, and buy stuff on eBay.
Languages:
Corporate double-speak & nonsensical blurbs (i.e. “it is what it is”); politically correct insults
Superpowers:
Able to work 16 hours in a single day
Makes amazingly important decisions with almost no data to support it by relying on “gut feel”
Impervious to actual analysis, busy work, and cubicles
Key Weakness:
Unable to add true value to any business situation, given status as “middle man” between the Supreme Executive Powers and The Data Monkeys.
How To Exploit:
Ask MISTER MANAGER to put together a presentation on what it is he does here.
HERO #2:  SENOR HEE-HEE-HO-HA
Secret Identity: That funny friend who seems completely insecure & slightly socially inept unless he’s making fun of  someone, something, or himself.
Languages:
Pop culture references, politically incorrect ethnic slurs, profanity, poop jokes, dick jokes, boob jokes, sex jokes, synonyms for ‘vagina’, and neoliberalism; also Mexican.
Superpowers:
Able to work for hours & hours on stand-up material while only getting paid in laughter
Makes old jokes new again by adding insignificant pop-culture references that last less than two years so that new jokes become old jokes again
Impervious to public humiliation, physical intimacy with a real person, and postgraduate education
Key Weakness:
Inflated sense of self-worth – as this increases, humor & superpowers decrease (i.e. Seinfeld, Al Franken, Dane Cook)
How to Exploit:
Repeatedly explain that he’s “such a good guy” and tell him people still love him even if he’s not funny.
HERO #3: HERO FORMERLY KNOWN AS THE FAT KID
Secret Identity:  The guy who sees sees a bag of Oreos as a buffet, and who treats buffets as a self-defining feat of endurance.
Languages:
Calories, nutrients, scientific names for parts of body/musculature (i.e. trapezius dorsi, gastrocnemius, gluteals), different types of spandex, perfect usage of ‘no homo’ dialects
Superpowers:
Able to fepeatedly rise at crack of dawn to spend 60 minutes validating himself as physical specimen and/or trying to uncover the elusive ‘six pack’ with almost no true progress
Makes protein-packed lunches that are both nutrient-dense and delicious – tuna salad on rice cakes, boiled chicken breast, hard-boiled eggs, yogurt
Impervious to bagels, Bugles, burritos, burgers & babyback ribs.
Key Weakness:
Simple sugars like those found in icing, M&Ms, brownies, chocolate chip cookies, and anything creme-filled; also guilt.
How to Exploit:
Bring him a baked good that you made yourself, and deploy Guilt Trip when he politely declines.
Note to Mr. Lee, G-More & JBee:  these ideas are for sale – it will only cost you one cameo spot in each adapted screenplay.

The 101st Post…

… and it’s just an embedded video.  But wait…

… this may just be an embedded video, but it’s also the trailer to what may become Marvel’s answer to DC’s ‘Dark Knight’ success.  (Okay, that’s dramatic – no way will this have an Oscar-worthy performance in it – but holy sh!t the nerd in me is jumping up and down all the same!)

See!!!?!?????!  GAMBIT!  DEADPOOL!  BLOB!  HOLY FRIKKIN’ CRAP!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Well, it’s not even 7:30 yet, but I’m already giving thanks.  I’m thankful for The Guys From The Internet and their new hit, F*ck A Kitten Up.

And, eternally, grateful for ‘aluminum falcons.’

I’m also grateful that I learned basketball from Michael Jordan, not Jesus.

Oh… and I’m now using Thanksgiving-inspired color schemes.  Apparently the light blue hurts female eyes.  Thanks for the feedback – this is more festive anyway.