What I've Watched: Man on Wire

Few films move you to gasp with amazement. Man on Wire definitely did this for me. I think it's the melding of a man whose desire to entertain and challenge himself with the physicality of the buildings he tightropes across in this movie. That those buildings are the two World Trade Center towers make this an even more powerful documentary, because the movie ends up being a love letter to the WTC through the eyes of this incredible guy.

Phillipe Petit enjoyed wirewalking across challenging structures. He did the towers of Notre Dame and then bridge towers in Sydney. Considering this was 1975, it's just crazy to see this kind of art being performed, and art it is. This is a guy performing at 1,350 feet in the air on a wire. It's just breathtaking to watch all the effort culminate when he finally steps out.

My mom and wife kept shaking their heads, calling this guy crazy. I am not claiming some sort of kindred spirit with Petit, but I definitely believe there is something about "creative" people finding appreciation in someone else's creation that others may not instantly grasp. This doesn't mean I like Pollack or Matisse or Beethoven in a way they never would, but there is just something I cannot explain about how differently we viewed this movie. They seemed to be breaking it down on practical and legal terms, while I was just swimming in the awe of the event and moment.

It was kinda eerie watching the opening half-hour, when you watch the construction of the towers, because you see the same hole and steel and parts that we all saw deconstructed in 2001. It's unsettling, and I think the film benefits from not really even addressing the attacks. Instead, the whole focus is where it should be, on this one-time event that was a breathtaking moment.

Holiday Road: Kentucky Show

So it was our last day in Louisville before the big drive back to DC, and after a surprisingly delicious brunch, my mom thought of a quick activity, which was to go to the Center for the Arts downtown and check out this new display. It's a 30-minute video celebrating Kentucky's history.

At first I was a tad skeptical. I was worried it would be a half-assed film put together by a bunch of high schoolers and have the production value of the Blair Witch Project. Yet imagine my surprise when it was actually a really damn good 30-minute movie.

The project, called Kentucky Show!, is all about giving Kentucky residents a look at the history of the state and also celebrate everything the state has done. Sure, sounds kinda silly, and my friends from Cincinnati would probably interject a hundred Kentucky/barefoot jokes right now, but even they would be stunned by some of the stuff I learned.

It's narrated by Ashley Judd, and it's a mix of slideshows, video clips and tons of interviews with famous Kentuckians. And when they get to the part about the Derby, it got a bit misty. It never gets old and it's always gets me misty, seeing all those horses run, all the people and best of all, hearing 250,000 people singing My Old Kentucky Home. You can't experience that and not get choked up. I won't believe it.

So well done, mom. 30 minutes that made me feel a lot better about being from the Bluegrass State.

Holiday Road: Reading By Listening

Driving from DC to Kentucky and back is not a horrible journey. The trek takes you through lots of different and beautiful scenery. Western Maryland is nice, and once you get into Kentucky you got all those horse farms, and there is nothing prettier than seeing rolling hills with lots of horses hanging out. Just makes you feel like you are back home. West Virginia is not bad to look at, as long as you don't stop to talk to the people or eat anything. Because all they eat is fast food and more fast food.

It's about 13 hours total each way, so my goddess divine and I had to keep ourselves entertained, and playing the license plate game or the alphabet game just isn't getting it done. The lady gets carsick if she reads while in the car, so that wouldn't do either, and we have vastly different tastes in music, meaning, she hates everything I like. So loading up the iPod was out. The result? We gave audiobooks a try.

And I must say, I was pleasantly surprised. I was always worried about not being able to keep up and lose focus while driving, but it wasn't hard at all. Helps that we "read/listened" to some light-hearted fare, no Dickens or anything intense like that. All three, The Broker, The Appeal and The Ghost were all solid reads. The Appeal was a tad too slow at times, but it was decent in the end. The Broker was much more up-tempo, while The Ghost was a short 3 hours long and made the most of it.

I am definitely going to invest in more audiobooks the next time I take a road trip. It certainly helps pass the time, and as long as it's a solid book, you can't go wrong.

What I've Watched: Vantage Point

I can barely contain myself. This movie is the essence of putrid. And it's exactly the kind of movie that speaks to all of Hollywood's ills.

The lack of originality is stunning in Hollywood sometimes. Vantage Point is actually a remake, and though I have never seen the original, I sure as shit ain't seeing it now, because even if it's better than this version, I don't have the stomach for it.

Back when I was a kid, we visited my grandparent's house in NJ and I distinctly remember watching Down and Out in Beverly Hills, an '80s "comedy" that my grandfather, aunts, uncles, parents and the two dogs all considered to be the worst movie we'd ever seen. Even to this day, if just bringing up Down and Out gives my mom the shivers.

I told her flatly that Vantage Point was the Down and Out of the new millennium. Without two breaths, she said, "Screw it, send it back to Netflix, I'm not even going to bother watching it." Holy cow, that tells you something. You send a movie back without even bothering, because I compared it to a horrid film from two decades ago. That's the power of the Down and Out label in the Campbell household.

I feel sorry for any fool who spent money to see that movie in the theater. If you didn't figure out the whole thing and who the bad guys are in about 4 minutes into the film, you should have your brain checked. Big budget, big-name cast, big production, complete lack of effort. Thanks to Sigourney, Forrest, Dennis, Matthew and everyone else who crapped the bed on this one. Hope that new door you bought with this paycheck was worth it.

What I've Watched: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

I've seen many a movie that has a resounding message to it, and does it in an emotional enough way to make me get just a wee misty. I'm man enough to admit it. And while Benjamin Button didn't make me cry, it did have one heck of a good message and one that maybe comes at a good time for me.

The message is loud and clear, and pretty much beats you with it over the head for nearly three hours. And that is, you don't know when certain opportunities will present themselves, and you best appreciate the moments you have, because the clock of time keeps ticking and those chances aren't always going to come around again. In simpler terms, the message is: Nothing Lasts.

It's depressing as shit, that's for sure. The movie is excellent. I've never been the biggest Brad Pitt fan, but his recent turns in this and in the underratedly excellent Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford have me liking him in this quieter roles that require him to be more than a pretty face mugging. Yes, his role as Rusty in the Ocean trilogy was great. But this is different, and better. This whole movie is made by Cate Blanchett. I'm not kidding, she's one of the top five actors working right now, in my opinion. She's fantastic in this also. She nails it with the petulance of youth and the anger of age and regret.

I admit to trying to live a life of no regrets, just forward motion. But everyone knows I am also someone who relishes in memories and can't throw anything away. I do have a small list of moments I regret and opportunities I now see as missed, and I'll leave this mortal coil knowing I can't get them back, so the rest of my days will be cursed with these few precious moments. But Benjamin Button did get me to remember a big mantra of my life, which is to appreciate the little things. It's always in the little things that make the big things in life even better.

Just Shut the Hell Up People

Now, let me be clear. I am not advocating violence toward people. And I really, really, really hate guns. The idea of guns disturbs me. But you know what I also hate? People friggin talking during movies.

Talk during the trailers? Sure, go for it. Hate or love the Coke commercials or the dancing hot dog? Fine, speak on dear friend. But when that movie company logo shows up and the title credits start rolling, just shut the hell up. I didn't pay $11 to hear your running commentary or your inability to follow plot. I have MST3K for the commentary if I want it, and trust me, they are better at it than you.

Part of the Christmas tradition in the Campbell household is to see tons of movies. So we went and saw Benjamin Button (review coming later), and lucky for us, we saw it here in Louisville and not in Philly.

Again, I'm not saying he should have shot the guy ... but I understand.

Just In Case You Thought They Left

Those racist, idiot moronic, jackass fuckwads who think they know what's best for the Republican Party are back. Yeah, some of same fools who think everything with the GOP is just fine as long as they keep up with the racist, we're better than everyone else, white-and-rich only mantras they keep espousing. Now, I hate for that to sound like an angry rant. I know a lot of registered Republicans who are very smart people, and have solid ideas on where this country and world should go, even if they are opinion I disagree with. At least they make sense.

But this shit is just just ridiculous. I mean, get a fucking life, pal. This jackass named Paul Shanklin (who came up with the Bomb Iran song, which is not offensive, just merely stupid) came up with a song called "Barack the Magic Negro." Bad as that sounds, it actually sounds a lot worse. Someone impersonates Al Sharpton, who then sings about whether Barack is legitimately black or not. Rush Limbaugh defended it, but of course we should never trust a drug addict's opinion unless it's his. Worse than the song actually being made, but now it got more legitimacy from a pure dumbass by the name of Chip.

You see, Chip Saltsman wants to be chairman of the RNC. Well la dee frickin da for him. Too bad he's a total fuckup for using the song as part of his campaign to be chairman. Some are calling it satire, but I know that this isn't any friggin satire. Herb Block knew satire. Saltsman, to quote a favorite movie of mine, isn't leading but two things right now, jack and shit, and jack left town. The YouTube of the song is below. Shame on them. Shame.

Yes, maybe I am sounding a little off my rocker, but shit like this just pisses me off and doesn't do anyone any good. But go ahead GOPers, put good ol Chip in charge. Sure he'll make everything better.

Holiday Road: Victory

First off, hope everyone had a good Christmas Day. Whatever gift you were hoping for (be it money, a pony or 100% convincing that Obama is indeed our president) I hope you got it.

Just have to give some much-deserved props to the Campbell kids. Instead of guessing at presents this year, the three of us were much more focused, and tagged the best possible gift for our mother. We got her the Amazon Kindle, which is the new fancy wireless digital book reader. It's pretty darn cool and surprisingly easy to use, so even scary octogenarians can use it without fearing that its going to take over the planet.

Mom dug it immensely from the moment she opened it, which is always a satisfying feeling. Then she spent the next two hours ticking off all its minutiae of features, so we knew she liked it. Campbell Kids 1, Bad Gift Ideas 0.

Holiday Road: Return to the Scene of the Crime

Tonight marks the one-year anniversary of the crime. We return to the scene tonight.

265 days ago, I accompanied my wife for the first time to her family's Christmas Eve dinner. Night before Christmas is the big tradition in her family, and everyone comes. There is some present opening, this odd photo of the grandchildren is taken and all is well. Plus, since my family doesn't have much of a family tradition of any kind for Christmas, it makes breaking up the holiday travel easy.

My first Christmas with the Crawfords would be an eventful one. That being because some jackass decided it would be a good idea to sneak into the front foyer and steal 5 purses. My wife's was one of them. Took us about an hour to realize they were stolen, but once it was realized, the hunt was on. And I'm not fucking kidding. It was a full-on, Tommy Lee Jones-style manhunt.

Her family is not to be trifled with. Within an hour, we had dissected secret surveillance video we got of the moron scoping out of the house. Then we had cops getting full, detailed reports from all 800 members of the family (everyone had an opinion and viewpoint, believe me). Of course, nothing topped me and her uncles canvassing the neighborhood, several of her uncles in trucks (with fully loaded rifles, no less) and me and a few others checking out nearby forests and dumpsters hoping the prick dumped the purses and kept the cash. It's probably better that the armed uncles weren't successful, because I'd feel sorry for that guy if they had found him.

We found a few clues (the idiot stole a Tupperware bowl, but I guess it was not lined in gold so he left it about 5 blocks away), but no perp, although a quick (hilarious) stop a local gas station had me and wife convinced for a few minutes we had him busted. In the end, we all were left shaking our heads and hoping the cops would catch the dude.

They finally did, about 5 months later, and the wife got a nice restitution check. It's been one year and the family gathers again tonight for the first anniversary of the crime. The ladies joked that they were all wearing fannypacks tonight as an homage. The family is installing a security system for the grandparents, and I bet it's not far from this one, knowing them. I just hope I get the code to shut it down.

Holiday Road: Tree Hunting

The Crawford bunch are normally a reserved bunch. This is far from my family, where no matter if it's Campbells or Duffys, chances are strong that you will find some alcohol, loud voices and some occasional picking on each other. You know, because we all love each other.

But my lady's family are the reliable ones, at least in terms of not drinking heavily and generally being goofballs. My side of the family has that covered. So behold my shock when I experienced the insanity of what seemed like a simple task ... getting a Christmas tree.

Go to a church parking lot or yard and buy a tree from Boy Scouts or something? Oh hell no. Her family drives damn near an hour to one of their secluded farms outside Murray and wanders aimlessly around a forest of trees to find the perfect one for her grandparent's house. Let me go ahead and reinforce a few things. There were around 11 of us. In four cars. It was 11 degrees outside. We were wandering around this forest. It was nuts.

Luckily, a tree was found. Or, as her grandfather aptly put, "We can cut this one down, or you all can wander around for another hour trying to find one and we'll end up back here to cut this one down." Thanks grandpa, for summing up everyone's opinions. So we cut the tree down with a saw, luckily not only with our hands. All the while, some of the cousins decided to make like spider monkeys and scale every tree they came across. Not to be taught a lesson, their father joined in. Normally reserved and rational, get them in an open setting and apparently all reason goes out the window. I'm just glad no one was impaled.

This scene from the best Christmas movie ever best sums up the experience, and is more like a documentary, the more I look back.

Sub in The Cambler

So back in Kentucky for the holidays, the wife and I hit up a gym down the road. The Paducah Athletic Center has good stuff: full gym, tons of TVs, a pool, a basketball court, some raquetball courts, batting cages, sauna and all that crap. Plus, it has my favorite feature ... no clients. Yeah, it's probably bad for business, but I love that when I am there, at most there are like 10-15 other people there. So no lines, no weird looks (I'm not exactly gym/weightlifting material), just some peace and quiet while I get healthy.

Being from Kentucky and not having played or shot a basketball in at least 2 years is mildly depressing. My only (weak) defense is that basketball courts are hard to find in DC, especially if you are not planning on hustling people or overcompensating for a lack of life by beating me to a bloody pulp. I just enjoy some casual sports without all the massive competition that takes the fun out of it.

So after working out, I decided to shoot a little to see how deteriorated my hoops skills had gotten. And much to my own surprise, I was rocking that court. Kelly would probably make claims that the basket was only 8 feet high, but it was regulation, so suck it. I was kicking arse. I couldn't miss. For the next 30 minutes I was just hitting from everywhere on the floor.

I decided to shoot some free throws to start, because that used to be my one strong suit. I missed my first free throw, but then
hit my next three. I thought I'd be goofy and see how long it would take me to miss 5. Just five. I thought if I made it to 15 I'd be proud of myself. The final result: 36. Took me 36 attempts to just miss five. That's 86%. Good lord, they are not that hard. It's just finding a flow like in Pop-a-Shot.

Here's a quick rundown of the worst free throw shooters in the NBA, and their salary for this year:
Kendrick Perkins (BOS): .557 -- $4.6 million
Dwight Howard (ORL): .570 -- $13.8 million
Emeka Okafor (CHA): .574 -- $9.5 million
Andris Biedrins (GSW): .586 -- $9 million
Shaquille O'Neal (PHX): .589 -- $21 million
Lamar Odom (LAL): .597 -- $14.2 million
Kenyon Martin (DEN): .605 -- $14.4 million

I give up. Get me a uniform and sub me in for the technical fouls or even get me some playing time. There are plenty of jackasses in the NBA who play no defense and still get paid. I'm ready and waiting for that phone call. The Wizards sure could use the help.

Holiday Road: Singalong

Now that we have made it to the farm for the first half of our holiday journey, now comes the fun parts. That is, me taking part in the family traditions of my goddess' clan that I was able to avoid during the opening 10 years of courtship. I got a "Get Out of Family Affairs Free" card because I normally had to go to Louisville and hang out with my event-free family. Now, I'm trapped in these activities like a prisoner in a Saw movie.

Last night's activity was a christmas concert at the family's Baptist church. One of the main performers was the wife's nephew, who is 4 years old and a maniac of Dennis the Menace proportions. Kid is great, but focused attention is not his forte, let alone any kid that age.

It was a trip watching him "perform," which basically meant him standing on the alter and repeatedly jamming his hands into his pants. Not sure if he was nervous or searching for gold, but those hands were firm in place. Also firm in place were his lips, which barely uttered a sound. As a nutcracker, he was spot-on. As a singer, not so much.

But it all turned out well, even if the band director got his god on to a level closely approaching spooky, and there was also a dude in the front row who started openly weeping because he couldn't stop coughing. Oh, and the music, while traditional Christmas tunes, were re-arranged by some fancy producer. They all sounded more like showtunes or Celine Dion tracks. Not entirely convinced that is what jesus would want. But what do I know?

Holiday Road: A Moment of Pause

We had to make a stop in Lexington for a night while on our way back to my wife's farm for the holiday. You see, her great uncle Ben died last week, and we absolutely had to pay our respects. Uncle Ben was a famous doctor here in Kentucky, and his death means my dearest's grandfather is the only sibling left. His other brother died two months ago, which means it has been a very un-fun winter thus far in the Crawford household.

I hate funerals. I hate hospitals. I shun just about anything dealing with death. I just don't handle that well. But I would be remiss if I didn't compliment and speak about the lovely service Uncle Ben got. Plus, he deserved the 50-70 people or so who showed up in 15-degree weather to say goodbye. My wife and I were saying farewell to a man who cooked up dinner while we were in college, who let us swim in his pool and do laundry for free. It's the little things, I always say, and Uncle Ben came through while not always getting the proper thanks. He was that kind of good man.

He lost a long, valiant battle with Alzheimer's, but I'm sure he's baking his French bread and making everyone smile. And while I loathe hospitals and funerals, I could not help but recognize the peacefulness of hearing birds chirp in the silence, the wind passing through branches struggling to hold their leaves in winter's grasp. The serene sound of taps being played out through the military color guard. And if nothing else, the beautiful words to a poem I had not heard previously, but will always remember.

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on rippened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Ashley Morris

Well said.

Holiday Road

Yes, it's holiday season, which means it's time for a road trip. The wife and I decided this year to drive back to Kentucky, that way we could deliver presents instead of mailing them, and also because flights were about $9 bagillion dollars just to fly from DC to Louisville or Nashville (which is a whopping 100-minute flight).

No road trip would be complete without the National Lampoon's Vacation theme song, so just enjoy that. It's supposed to rain and be super windy the whole way home, so I doubt we'll have time to stop a visit the world's largest ball of twine or that enormous dinosaur that shows up in movies all the time. Plus, besides the weather, those locales are on the other side of the map from Kentucky, so we'd have to be super effing lost to run into those. Of course, it worked out splendidly for the Griswold's.

My Paper Challenge: My Fault

So I had a massively busy final day at work and did not get a chance to do my final weigh-in and examination of all the paper and such that I have been saving up as part of my one-month challenge. I had hoped to dissect the whole experience over the holiday break, but now it's gonna have to wait until I get back to DC. But don't worry, I'm not forgetting about you all, who are anxiously awaiting the breakdown. All three of you. But you are the few but faithful.

A New Party-Hole

My guy friends like to bash me for liking Broadway. Now, on some levels I can't blame them. Because I do like the theater. Problem is, they think I only dig massive, overblown musicals by Andrew Lloyd Webber or something. I actually like regular dramatic theater also, and I will never say no to comedic theater.

Broadway is in a massive slump right now, and I'm torn on it. Yes, the shows are important, fun and shouldn't be missed. I also don't think they need to be so full of themselves to bilk $150 per seat from tourists who are already dropping huge chunks of cash just to be in NYC. This is when that elite feeling that people bitch about NYers actually makes a point.

Anyway, I'm plugging a Broadway show that is sure to please everyone, even though it's in a limited run. W is pathetic, ignorant moron and I know (sadly) more than a few people who actually think he's done a decent job. Maybe they are Enron employees. Here's a brief video of the show I'm talking about. Hopefully this will give Broadway a fast boost in ticket sales.

A Message from George W Bush by Will Ferrell

What I've Watched: Tropic Thunder

When I hosted my Sunday supper club last night, my goddess divine and I were caught quoting Anchorman and some other comedies throughout the night that my three guests were stumped by. It was one of those moments when I realized that some people absorb movie quotes into their life like it's no big deal, and others have real lives and don't worry about such trivial things. I clearly fall into the former.

Tropic Thunder is filled with hilarious moments, many of which are based in some rather off-color humor that you need to have thick skin in order to truly appreciate. The fake trailers and opening 30 minutes alone are full of stuff that the politically correct crowd would run for hills from. But to me it's all in good fun, especially when the real jokes are being played on Hollywood stereotypes and what they think is funny.
Some cameos by Elijah Wood and Tom Cruise are very funny, and everything about Robert Downey Jr.'s turn as an Australian actor who dyes his skin black to play a black soldier. The whole premise of it is comical, and his Brando-esque need to immerse himself in the roles is just great to watch. I highly recommend the movie (even if it does seem to stretch out about 25 minutes longer than it should), and even if you don't end up quoting from it like me, you'll still enjoy it. Just try not to give me the stink-eye because I'm a crazy person who remembers lines from movies.

Take Your Stripes and Shove It

As you all know, I review video games. Which means I also play a lot of video games. Most of the time I can only spend about 10 on any given game because my column comes out weekly, so delving into any one game just takes away time from another. As a reward for all my hard work (yeah, I can feel the pity from here), I let myself truly enjoy the hell out of one game.

This means I try my damnedest in my free time to see the game through to the finish. I always make sure it's a great game, whether it's Oblivion or The Godfather, or a couple seasons of NCAA Football or perhaps unlocking everything I can in Skate. Right now, that game is Gears of War 2.

Besides the comically high level of gore and the fun of sawing someone in half, I have a more community-based reason for loving this game. You see, I got friends back in Kentucky and Ohio (and even this guy I know in Florida, but calling him a friend would do a disservice to the word 'friend'). Sorry, Matt, it's true. Anyway, it's great because all of these friends play online with me, so once or twice a week I get to catch up with Luke, Sean, Andy, Sarah, Matt (OK, fine, I'll acknowledge him), Jeremy and others. Yeah, you read that right ... we even have a chick playing with us. It's awesome. She curses loudly and loves tossing frags into hordes of combatants. It's great stuff.

GOW2 has a ranking system to gauge how well you play online, and they give you stripes and stars based on your performance. Me and some of the guys are currently stuck on one stripe, while tons of others online have 70 gold bars and stars and look more like 5-star generals than your average gamer. I earned my second stripe last week, but then had a bad run and lost it 15 minutes later. It sucked. I was pissed.

Now, I learn that there is no method to the ranking system. Matt, who is easily the Sling Blade level of gamer in our group, has earned his second stripe and hasn't lost it despite him sucking massively on a consistent basis. So I say screw the stripes. I'm not worried. I know I got skills, and I'm gonna take Matt's second stripe and cram it down his piehole. Oh, and that awesome photo is me blowing his head off with a sniper round. Thanks for the proof, Sean.

Karma is a Bitch

I love Karma. I'm a big believer in it. No, I'm not Hindu or Buddhist (though the ultra-cool Leonard Cohen makes me think I could pull it off). In fact, I pretty much could do without organized religion altogether. But for some reason, all the reading I have done in the past on karma makes me think that there is something to it.

I bring this up because I heard some news that reinforces my belief in it. My boss at my old place of employment got laid off back in the summer, and it was about damn time. She was clearly, by far and away, the dumbest person I have ever met, let alone someone I had to work with. I was designing magazines, and the woman they put in charge had zero management experience. Zero magazine experience. Zero editorial experience. Zero budgeting experience. Zero project management experience. Zero writing, editing or design experience. That's an assload of zeroes people. I'm no Donald Trump, but I was told more or less that I was not given the job because I wasn't old enough yet. Well, age don't make smarts, and she was living, breathing, ignorant proof of that. 8 people directly quit their jobs at this place and cited her as the reason in exit interviews.

I'm usually good about not bagging on people, because it's bound to piss off the karma gods and come back on me. But we're talking about a manager who openly yelled and disparaged her 3 team members. Who told me I was a shitty designer and would never get another job better than the one working for her. That she thought about business tactics best when shopping at Macy's. I could go on, but the Internet must have a built-in limit on talking about her, because I can feel it coming soon.

Anyway, I just heard that as of this time, she is still without a job. She's been leap-frogged by two people once below her in the totem pole, and two separate sources say she's burning bridges faster than the River Kwai. So I'm loving life a little bit more today, because that evil woman did so much to try and destroy the lives of several individuals, and I'm glad she's in crapper right now. I don't feel sorry for her at all. I hope she's eating Vienna Sausages and still squeezing into clothes 3 sizes too small. Thanks for the update, Bill. I'm soo happy.

I Think I Missed Out

The deleted scenes from The Office are sometimes the best work, and I still feel no one gets to see it. And let me tell you, if I had known about Schrute Farms as a wedding locale, I would have bailed on getting married at my wife's farm in a heartbeat. Dwight seems to have everything under control, and he's got a surly Amish dude to boot.

Courtside Ramblings

So my boy Dan got us some swank seats to the Wizards/Blazers game Wednesday. These were $239 face value seats that Dan got for $75 each, saving us around $300 bucks easy, so already we were going into the night champs. And things only got better, since we showed up the Phone Booth (Verizon Center for you non-DCers out there) and saw our seats were right next to the Wizards' bench about 4 rows from the floor. Enjoying the view from our Kevin Bacon seats (since Spike Lee gets on the floor for the Knicks, we figure we had the kind of seats Footloose guy would get), here are some other rambling thoughts I had during the game:

>> Wizards "All Star" guard Gilbert Arenas (whose getting something like $110 million for several years and yet he's only played about 18 games the last two seasons) didn't bother showing up until midway through the second quarter. Guess he was busy in line buying a hot dog or a blue raspberry slushy. Those things take time to make, I hear. You stay classy, Gil.

>> The Wiz have a high number of suspect girls on their cheerleading squad. I'm not going to guess how many of them are earning a little on the side by kickin it on the stripper pole, but there are a few who were a bit too comfortable with the stripper perfume and had a quite a bit of ... well, let's call it sass ... when it came to dancing for the crowd in the lower seats.

>> Dan and I had originally agreed to dress silly for the game, either going for ultra-Euro trash (leather jackets, half-buttoned shirts) or look silly. Dan bailed, but I went strong, wearing some vintage gear and aviators. Yeah, that's me looking like an extra on C.H.I.P.S. to the right.

>> As if on cue, as Andray Blatche (Wiz center) passes by us with a tissue up his nostril, Dan chimes in "Damn, how many times have we told him to lay off the powder." That's Dan ... a man of few words, but they mean something.

>> One of the services we get with the VIP seats is access to the VIP lounge (free apps, which is nice), shoeshines, friendly bartenders who actually take the time to remember what you order, lots of TVs, close proximity to the locker rooms (both players' and cheerleaders). Ummm, yes, I did say shoeshines. What the fuh??? There were dudes actually skipping the game for minutes at a time to get their shoes shined. Wanted to bust out some Billy Batts on them, but they were bigger than me, and I'm a chicken.
>> After firing Eddie Jordan as their head coach, the Wiz's interim coach is some front office jackass that no one takes seriously. During any timeouts, all the players stand apart and watch the video big board and whatever goofy videos it is showing. Several times, this was happening when the Wiz were trailing the Blazers by only 5 or 6 points. Well, at least I'll know what to expect the rest of the season.

My Paper Challenge: Video Games

So I'm about two weeks away from the end of my paper challenge. If you missed the original post, here it is. Anyway, as part of the project, I said I would give updates on how things were going.

One of the biggest paper contributors in this challenge thus far has been the video game companies that send me their games to review. That picture on the right is no joke. That is my mail nearly every day. Inside each of the 6-8 packages is a bunch of stapled press releases that mean absolutely nothing to me. It's breakdowns of what makes the game so "fun" and a "must review" kind of title. As if that is really going to sway me. About 85% of the time, I can tell upon opening the package whether its a game I am going to review or not.

Not that I am a dick about what I review. But when I get six games a day, and only review three a week, the math is against me and the game companies at every turn. Seeing all this worthless paper included in the packages just doesn't make any sense. If other reviewers are persuaded by this stuff, then I don't know what to tell you. The amount of paper these companies could save by skipping these included press sheets is staggering. Plus, you must remember that I get all the EXACT same info through the companies, whose reps e-mail me nonstop, which makes more sense than printing it all out.

Besides griping about it here, I have started making inquiries to the PR reps about not including the paper in mailings anymore. We'll see what comes of it. Maybe it's the start of getting changes made.

Prop 8: The Musical

Comedy. Musical. Popular actors. Not sure how you could go wrong here.

Of course, I wish they were singing a song about how much of an idiot Sarah Palin is, or perhaps celebrating Obama a tad more, but instead they get to make fun of the sometimes stupid people of California. Well, those stupid people who thought it was a great idea to suppress the rights of its citizens.

I'm all for gay marriage, gay people adopting and whatever the hell else gays feel like doing. My fellow hetero folk have fucked up enough things on their own. The world will keep spinning if gays can marry and have rights. And having rights is what this country is supposed to be about.

So I tip my hat to Jack Black, Alison Janney, Doogie Howser and all the others who make appearances here.

See more Jack Black videos at Funny or Die