Happy New Year

Auld Lang Syne
Robert Burns

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of
auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne

We twa hae run aboot the braes
And pou'd the gowans fine;
we've wander'd mony a weary foot
Sin' auld lang syne

We two hae paidled i' the burn,
Frae mornin' sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne

And here's a hand, my trusty friend,
And gie's a hand o' thine;
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and days of auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne

Changes!

As you can see, I have changed the look of the blog. As a result, all my links and things have been lost so I have to redo them. The links will be back to normal soon. It may have been time for some house cleaning anyway. Chris and Christina, you haven't updated in so long, I am likely to cut your links. If you still read this crap, now would be the time to let me know so that I don't axe you.

I Finally Get to Play the Smart Kid

My pie-in-the-sky goal for my Graduate program is to graduate with honors. In Grad school (at least at UCO) that requires a 4.0 grade average the entire program. I'm off to a good start. Here are my fall grades:

Shakespeare's Comedies: A

Playwriting: A

Heroes and Heroines of the Bible: A

Working full time and taking a full time graduate course load has convinced me of what I have suspected all along: I NEED pressure to thrive.

He'd Better Be Worth It

I Will Read for Pleasure.

I finished the last two of my finals today, which means that I am done for the fall semester and one forth of the way to my MA. With the much deserved and needed three weeks before the spring semester I plan to read at least one Samuel Beckett novel, get back into my lately lax work out routine, and delve into my mission to learn Hebrew for real.

Grades forthcoming...

Air Conditioner Monster Caught!

The tree huggers at opossum.org claim:

They are exceptionally non-aggressive and non-destructive. They will not dig up your lawn, chew wood or wires, or create burrows.

After $1,100 worth of repairs to our air ducts, I disagree with them (though I must admit that I think a raccoon did the biggest part of the damage). Either way, this AC monster is caught and will quickly be disposed of in some fashion by the exterminators.

UPDATE:

Well, we have more than one. We have another opossum in another vent...and who knows how big the family is. It is to the point now where I am requesting prayers!

"Since 1892"

I may have been in college before it really occurred to me that this was not a Christmas carol.

When the B. C. Clark Christmas Jingle first aired, certainly no one could have predicted that over the years it would become the Oklahoma tradition that it is today. Intended to promote B. C. Clark’s annual Anniversary Sale, it has evolved over time into Oklahoma’s own Christmas carol.

The Jingle was first written and produced in 1956, and soon it developed a life of its own. The public made that clear in 1961 when B. C. Clark produced a new jingle thinking the original one was dated and had run its course. It was replaced with the old familiar one within hours, after a barrage of complaints

I Think It's Time for a Treatise to The Public

From the AP:

NEW YORK - The man gunned down in a spray of 50 police bullets on his wedding day was buried Saturday as hundreds of angry demonstrators honored him with a moment of silence before going jaw-to-jaw with police in a bitter confrontation outside a Queens precinct house.

The demonstrators taunted police, standing just inches away from a row of officers and daring the police to lay a hand on them. Some in the crowd held signs reading "Death to the pigs" and "Shoot back."

Perhaps it's time for the major Police unions to come together an issue a proclamation to the public reading something to this affect:

Whereas you the public have decided that we are the bad guys and;
Whereas to nonregardance you have cast our lives in favor of the lives of criminals and;
Whereas you have proven that you are totally ungrateful for the sacrifices of our brothers and the pain our families have felt and;
Whereas you believe that you are better able to interpret and enforce the law than we

We hereby resign our commissions as your protectors and agree only to the following job description:
1)When someone burglarizes your homes and your cars, we will respond and take a report.
2) When someone assaults you and robs you, we will respond and take a report.
3) When someone murders your children, we will respond and take a report.

Here are the acts that we will no longer do, as you have made it clear that you do not want us to:
1) We will no longer enforce traffic ordinances in attempt to make the roadways safe.
2)We will no longer patrol the streets of your neighborhoods.
3)We will no longer do active surveillance on known drug dealers.
4) We will no longer actively search for or pursue fugitives.
5)We will no longer respond to calls in which we may place ourselves in danger or, worse yet, endanger the lives of your valuable citizens.

In short, we will no longer risk our lives or the lives of our friends to assist a citizenry that has proven that it would rather not have us.

If after a sufficient period of time our absence proves to have been worse than is our presence and if at that time our citizens have adjusted their opinion of our value, we will be prepared to re-negotiate our terms with society.

Signed,
The Police Officers of the United States

Cops in a snowstorm

Since we had to get our cars out of this stuff just to go to work... (at the time our shift started, our division had seven cars stuck in ditches and snow banks)


We spent most of the night doing this,


And we did a little of this,


Until it was time to come home to this.


Ahhhhhhhh. What a day.

Shalom El'ehem!

I notice that it has been a while since I've written anything so I thought I'd better get it out of my system. We are having our first winter storm of the year. As I write, ice falls from the sky blanketing the roads with class cancelling frozen death. Luckily, I had inservice training today so I am not out sliding around in the police car.

I'm getting out of classes tomorrow. It's nearing the end of the semester and I am super busy. I recently turned in a 16 page paper for my playwriting class. I spent the better part of the semester working on it (the bibliography had 18 entries). I was to turn in a ten page character study of the Biblical character of Jaconb tomorrow. It's typed and ready but classes are cancelled. Next week I turn in another paper for the same class; six pages on monologue in the Old Testament. I have the rough draft for almost one half of my thesis play.

And, just because I love to punish myself (and also because it is cold so I won't be running around much anyway) I have started learning Hebrew, which has been one of my goals since I finished college. I am still in lesson one, so I only know two complete sentences. The title of this post means, "The peace (good wishes) of God with you." I don't actually know how the accepted manner of transliterating the words so I'm doing the best I can. I also know the famous Shamah, which is: Shamah Is'rael! Adonai El'ohenu. Adonai 'had. (Note: What is spoken "Adonai" is written YHWH.) That is, "Hear Israel! The LORD our God, the LORD is one."

-Shalom!

If You Love The Red Sox or Hate Cancer

Check out The Lester Project, a new fundraiser for the Jimmy Fund. Here is the official description:

an official fundraiser for the Jimmy Fund! Upon learning about Red Sox pitcher Jon Lester's diagnosis, a group of four Boston-area college students/self proclaimed Red Sox fanatics from Northeastern, Suffolk University, Emmanuel College and Fisher College got together and decided to create silicone awareness bracelets (similar to the "LiveStrong" bracelets) and donate all of the proceeds to the Jimmy Fund, in Lester's name. What started off as a small project to be shared among friends has grown into a huge undertaking, thanks to the support of Red Sox Nation!

The Official Christmas List.

Here is my Christmas list for this year. (Bill and Saphronia have already given their gift so they are excluded. Thanks Willy and Phrony.


Bowler hat (like the one worn by Charlie Chaplin).

A Dictonary of Etymology. Needs not be specifically this one.


Beckett on Film series.

Barnardine's Pardon

In Shakespeare's Measure for Measure the character Barnardine is a convicted murderer sentenced to death. When his time comes to die, the executioner and the Duke (dressed as a friar) come to lead him to the gallows. Barnardine refuses to be hanged because he is drunk. They argue with him but he is resolute. He will not die. He finally goes back to his cell unchallenged. This is my creative response to the play for my Shakespeare class. In my play, he is pardoned but refuses to leave.

At lights up: inside the Vienna Prison. BARNARDINE sits on a bench with a beer stein. ABHORSON enters.

ABHORSON
Rise Barnardine. I have news.

BARNARDINE tries to stand but is so drunk, he cannot and he falls back onto the bench.

BARNARDINE
I cannot stand. I'm drunk. As you can see.

ABHORSON
Why are you constantly drunk?

BARNARDINE
Because I constantly drink.

ABHORSON
Well, stay seated then. I have news.

BARNARDINE
What news?

ABHORSON
You are to be set free.

BARNARDINE stands and comes forward. He catches himself on the bars.

BARNARDINE
What?

ABHORSON
It's true. The Duke, on the occasion of his return from abroad, has granted a general pardon to all the murderers, thieves and sex maniacs in Vienna.

BARNARDINE
That's amazing.

ABHORSON
Yes it is.

BARNARDINE
And I won't allow it.

ABHORSON
It's what?

BARNARDINE
Why should I go?

ABHORSON
Sir, you've been pardoned...from a sentence of death.

BARNARDINE
Did I ask to be pardoned? I tell you I will not accept.

ABHORSON
I'm afraid you have no choice. You must come out of the prison and walk away a free man.

BARNARDINE
I have been drinking all night. I'm not fit to walk away.

ABHORSON
But you must.

BARNARDINE
I won't. Do not return to me until you are ready to hang me.

ABHORSON
Sir, you are not to be hanged. You have been pardoned.

BARNARDINE
I tell you, I will be hanged and I will not leave here except with an undertaker.

ABHORSON
But sir...

BARNARDINE
This matter is closed. If you have any further news, I'll be on my bench, awaiting my hanging.

BARNARDINE stumbles back to his bench and lies down.

Lights down.

The Language of Policing

In 1066 AD, the British government fell to the French Speaking William the Conqueror at the Battle of Hastings. For the next three hundred years, the ruling class on the British Isles spoke French. Generally in world history, when a people is conquered, they will begin to speak the language of the ruling authority, as the Hellenistic Mediterranean has done before. The English working class however, simply refused. They would not speak or even learn French. Eventually, the French speaking gentry learned that if they wanted to sway their houses, they would have to learn the lingua franca and so a linguistic revolution occurred. For the first time ever, the rulers of a country had to start speaking the language of the ruled. Finally, with Charles II, the English once again had an English speaking ruler. Their nation had survived, in no small part because of the common person's refusal to accept the language (and thereby the nationality) of the conquering power.

What I am saying is; language is an important aspect of our identity. In an e-mail conversation with Christina, I mentioned that I would like someone to write a book on the grammar and language of the Police Department. You see, police officers have their own language. We have ways of talking to each other that the public does not understand. Ways of saying and writing things that take on a life of their own, based on our own needs in working together.

For example, we have a written language in our correspondence to one another via the MDC (mobile data computer, the thing that looks like a laptop in our cars). Here is a common conversation between my partner and I:

Me: 20?

Him: 23/Penn

Me: R/V?

Him: NRT.

Here is the translation:

Me: Where are you?

Him: NW 23rd and Pennsylvania.

Me: Would you like to meet at the convienence store at Reno and Villa?

Him: En route, which of course means, on my way.

It's a language based on common knowledge. When I ask "20?" he knows that it is an abbreviation of 10-20, the 10 code for "what is your location." When I ask "R/V?" he knows that I mean Reno and Villa because meeting there is a common experience for both of us. The brevity of our language comes from necessity. We are typing and driving at the same time (by which I mean that we are pulling over to type messages per departmental policy and best safe driving practices.)

The language that we have becomes part of our identity as police officers. It becomes part of our brotherhood, one more thing that sets us apart from society and makes us our own culture. Is it any wonder we take care of our own? Is it any wonder cops tend to have only cop friends and cop relationships and cop hang outs?

New York Still Waiting for Parade

I found a Sporting News magazine from 2004 in which Sprting News Radio host Arnie Spanier made the easy prediction that the Yankees would be the 2004 World Champions. This was, of course, the historic year of the Boston Red Sox. In celebration of another failed Yankees campaign, I am giving you my favorite passages, along with some gentle commentary.

Asking why the Yankees will win the World Series is like asking why Britney Spears is sexy.

Turns out neither one was accurate.

With Tom Gordon to help them to the ninth and Mariano Rivera to shut the door, they shouldn't have much trouble.

As we now know, it was Rivera's monumental blown save in game four that kept the Yankees from sweeping the Sox, and eventually from winning the Series.

Maybe the more important question is this: If not the Yankees then who? No A.L. team comes close to matching them.

I guess now we know. Of course, we should have known then that someone was atleast close. The Sox were I think, three games back (in 2005 the teams ended the season with an exact tie, the division went to the Yankess because they have beat the Sox one more time than the Sox had beat them...but back to '04). THe Yenks were hardly untouchable. Sfter all, the lost to the Indians 22-0 the last day of August in '04.

Nope, this is an easy one. Yankees fans, start planning the parade route!

No parade in '04. No parade in '05. No parade in '06. The payroll goes up, the result is the same. Good riddance Yanks.

And by the Way...Go Mets!

In way of expressing my loyalty for this playoff run:

Bill's Red Sox Article

My Father in law wrote this for the church bulletin where he preaches. This article was sent to Manny Ramirez by some church memeber who is I guess a mover and shaker in Beantown. Who knows if Manny ever read it (or personally saw it) but I thought I'd help get Bill out there for you all to read. Bill understands first hand (through dealing with me)the fanaticism of we Sox fans and our anchor in tradition.

Here is his article.

My daughter and I converted Jeff in 1999. He responded by converting us to the Boston Red Sox. Jeff has relatives in Boston, and he and Charissa got to visit there this past spring. They went to a Red Sox game at Fenway Park, saw the Green Monster, and exchanged greetings with the players as they stepped onto the field for practice. The closest thing in Texas to a devotion like the Red Sox is an Aggie football game. It’s all about tradition. And friendship. And the pain of disappointment. Marty Nolan, an editor for the Boston Globe describes it with an oft-repeated quote, “They killed my father, and now they’re coming after me.”
Jeff loaned me a book by David Halberstam, The Teammates, about the enduring 60-year friendship between Red Sox greats Bobby Doerr, Dominic DiMaggio, Johnny Pesky and Ted Williams. Of the four, Williams was the most bombastic and difficult to live with. He was always argumentative, and was always right. Only Doerr seemed able to calm him down and correct him when he was wrong—in his swing, at least. That’s what “friends who stick closer than brothers” do.
As I read the book, I’m touched by the devotion and affection these men had for each other. They shared a love of the sport, and of their team. Only Pesky of the four ever wore another uniform than the Red Sox, late in his career. Friendships such as that shared by these greats are rare indeed; it’s why Halberstam’s book was a big seller. Rarer still is the loyalty to just one team, in the modern age of free agencies and huge salaries.
I find much to admire in their stories. And in the love and familial spirit shown by Red Sox fans. Wherever I wear my Navy blue cap with the big red “B” on it, Sox fans greet me. It’s to them like finding family far from home. One can’t be a casual Red Sox fan in the same way one can be a Braves fan, yet like the Indians or the Mets. A Sox fan is grounded in tradition. He or she remembers Ted Williams .406 season in 1941—the last year anyone batted over .400 in the Major Leagues. Though grounded in tradition, they are not chained to it. They shower their love on Manny Ramirez, David “Big Papi” Ortiz, Kevin Youkilis and Coco Crisp. On several different levels, they’re everything Christians should be.
Red Sox fans can teach Christians lessons on love, loyalty and zeal. Paul said “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.” –from Romans 12:9-12, NRSV.
If we as a church can get a handle on this, maybe we’ll be as good at being Christians as the Red Sox are at being fans.

Trooper William McClendon End of Watch:10-1-06

From ODMP:

Trooper William McClendon was killed his patrol car collided with a tractor trailer rig on the Will Rogers Turnpike near Claremore. Trooper McClendon died about 1:20 PM from his injuries. The tractor-trailer driver was also injured and was taken by helicopter to a Tulsa hospital, where he died from his injuries.

Ridin' Dity Update

Thank you for Yancey for this. I love that he does Star Wars Kid!!! Hahaha

What Are Your Children Listening To?

Charissa was telling me that in her music class with forth graders last week, she had the classes come up with their own Billboard charts. One of the classes had the song "Ridin'" as in, "ridin' dirty." She said that this made her cry and that when she told the kids why she was crying, she made them cry to.

Charissa told them that this was a song about people driving around with drugs and when they get stopped by the police, they kill the cops then go to the cops house. This upsets Charissa for obvious reasons.

In this quaint little ditty, the narrator brags for three stanzas about how loud his system is, the gun he has next to him and how he is smoking a blunt, rolling another one while is he driving 100 MPH all the while he has warrants "in every city but Houston." Then, in the final stanza, when he is getting pulled over, he accuses the officers of racial profiling. We wouldn't call that racial profiling. We call that a "good stop."

Here are the lyrics for your own perusal:

[Chorus]
They see me rollin
They hatin
Patrolling they tryin to catch me ridin dirty
Tryin to catch me ridin dirty
Tryin to catch me ridin dirty
Tryin to catch me ridin dirty
Tryin to catch me ridin dirty
My music so loud
I'm swangin
They hopin that they gon catch me ridin dirty
Tryin to catch me ridin dirty
Tryin to catch me ridin dirty
Tryin to catch me ridin dirty
Tryin to catch me ridin dirty

[Verse 1 - Chamillionaire]
Police think they can see me lean
I'm tint so it ain't easy to be seen
When you see me ride by they can see the glean
And my shine on the deck and the TV screen
Ride with a new chick, she like hold up
Next to the playstation controller is a full clip and my pistola
Turn a jacker into a coma
Girl you ain't know, I'm crazy like Krayzie Bone
Just tryin to bone ain't tryin to have no babies
Rock clean itself so I pull in ladies
Laws of patrolling you know they hate me
Music turned all the way up until the maximum
I can speak for some niggas tryin to jack for some
But we packin somethin that we have and um will have a nigga locked up in the maximum
Security cell, I'm grippin oak
Music loud and tippin slow
Twist and twistin like hit this dough
Pull up from behind and is in his throat
Windows down gotta stop pollution
CDs change niggas like who is that producing?
This the Play-N-Skillz when we out and cruisin
Got warrants in every city except Houston but I'm still ain't losin

[Chorus]

[Verse 2 - Krayzie Bone]
I been drinkin and smokin holdin shit cause a brother can't focus
I gotta get to home 'fore the po po's scope this big ol Excursion swerving all up in the curve man
Nigga been sippin on that Hennessey and the gin again is in again we in the wind
Doin a hundred while I puff on the blunt
And rollin another one up, we livin like we ain't givin a fuck
I got a revolver in my right hand, 40 oz on my lap freezing my balls
Roll a nigga tree, green leaves and all
Comin pretty deep, me and my do-jo
I gotta get back to backstreets
Wanted by the six pound and I got heat glock glock shots to the block we creep creep
Pop Pop hope cops don't see me, on a low key
With no regards for the law we dodge em like fuck em all
But I won't get caught up and brought up on charges for none of y'all
Keep a gun in car, and a blunt to spark, but well if you want, nigga you poppin dark
Ready or not we bust shots off in the air Krayzie Bone and Chamillionaire

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Chamillionaire]
Do what you thinkin so, I tried to let you go
Turn up a blink of light and I swang it slower
A nigga upset for sure cause they think they know that they catchin me with plenty of the drink and dro
So they get behind me tryin to check my tags, look at my rearview and they smilin
Thinkin they'll catch me on the wrong well keep tryin
Cause they denyin is racial profiling
Houston, TX you can check my tags
Pull me over try to check my slab
Glove compartment gotta get my cash
Cause the crooked cops try to come up fast
And been a baller that I am I talk to them, giving a damn bout not feeling my attitude
When they realize I ain't even ridin dirty bet you'll be leavin with an even madder mood
I'mma laugh at you then I'mma have to cruise I'm in number two on some more DJ Screw
You can't arrest me plus you can't sue
This a message to the laws tellin them WE HATE YOU
I can't be touched or tell 'em that they shoulda known
Tippin' down, sittin' crooked on my chrome
Bookin' my phone, tryin' to find a chick I wanna bone
Like they couldn't stop me I'mma 'bout to pull up at your home and it's on

[Chorus 2x]

I Hate to be the Guy That Falls for Comnmercials but...

I found a Dunkin' Donuts commercial that was constantly on in Boston and I have had stuck on my head all summer. Because there are a grand total of four Dunkin's in the greater metro area, the commercials don't play here. So I present to you, my favorite commercial with music by They Might Be Giants.

"Sayings:" A Short Play

I wrote this as an excersise in my playwriting class. I think it's interesting so I'm putting it on here. It is yet another Subway play. I'm starting to think I could do a collection of these things and make a one act full of Subway shorts. This one is called, "Sayings."

The scene is a subway station. A young man waits near the yellow line for his train. He is clean cut, wearing a simple shirt, colorless tie and khaki slacks. An old man sits on the bench behind the young man. He appears to be homeless. He wears filthy Dickies, A long sleeve shirt. He has bushy, greasy hair and a beard. He also has a stack of papers next to him.

OLD MAN
Do you like sayings?

YOUNG MAN
Sayings?

OLD MAN
Do you like sayings?

YOUNG MAN
What do you mean?

OLD MAN picks up the stack of pages on which are written famous quotations. He approaches YOUNG MAN with them.

OLD MAN
Like, "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

YOUNG MAN
Oh. I guess.

OLD MAN
(hands a page to YOUNG MAN but still holds onto it himself as well.)Here's one of my favorites. (pointing to it)I like your Christ but I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ. Do you know who said that?

YOUNG MAN
Ghandi.

OLD MAN
That's right. You're very intelligent.

YOUNG MAN
(pointing to page)It's written.

OLD MAN
Yes. It is written.

OLD MAN lets go of the sheet. A subway car is heard approaching.

OLD MAN
(continuing)Is that you?

YOUNG MAN
I don't know.

YOUNG MAN folds the page and puts it in his breast pocket, close to his heart. The subway car is heard stopping. It is on the other side of the back wall.

YOUNG MAN
(looking back)No. It's the outbound.

OLD MAN
Well, I'm glad. I wasn't ready for you to go.

YOUNG MAN
Yeah but I'm in a hurry.

OLD MAN
Rushing saps the joy from life.

YOUNG MAN
Do you want money?

OLD MAN
Money is the root of all evil.

YOUNG MAN
Nevertheless, if it's money you want, I'm sorry but I have none.

OLD MAN
I just want you to keep my saying close to your heart.

YOUNG MAN
Sayings are just words. They put no bread on the table.

OLD MAN
That's true. Oh words, what crimes are committed in your name.

YOUNG MAN
(pulls out wallet)How much do you need?

OLD MAN
I need nothing. The LORD will provide. I just want you to come visit occasionally.

A train is heard approaching. YOUNG MAN looks down the tunnel.

YOUNG MAN
Okay. This one's me.

OLD MAN
Okay. I mean it though. Come visit me, son.

YOUNG MAN
Maybe I will...dad.

Lights out.

Thar' She Blows, with a Barb Like the Washington Monument

Charissa asked me if I had heard in the news that dead stingray are showing up all over Australia. Actually, the AP says that it's ten dead stingray but, hey, who's counting. It seems that, like Captain Ahab searching for Moby Dick, people have started hunting wildlife for revenge. This of course on the heels of Steve Irwin's death by stingray.

Two of the animals had their barbs cut off. This is a very interesting statement on human nature. Steve Irwin spent his entire life preaching conservation to the people, trying to teach people that saving wildlife is an important mission and yet, people try to atone for his death by killing the very animals he tried to save. Michael Hornby, Exec. Director of Irwin's conservation group said:

It may be some sort of retribution, or it may be fear from certain individuals, or it just may be yet another callous act toward wildlife...We are disgusted and disappointed that people would take this sort of action to hurt wildlife.

This story makes a couple points about humanity:

1) People are fundamentally illogical. The people doing these things don't seem to get the irony in their acts.

2) Human endeavor is destined for failure. The very sad truth is that Irwin's life mission to save animals was symbolically (and actually)undone when his death led to the destruction of animals.

There is something tragic yet artistic about all of this.

Upper Crust Music Criticism

I had a music video on my myspace page a while back by the City Boyz, a local rap group. Apparently lots of people think they're really good. Here's the statement of onme happy customer:

this CD iz tha shyt, if u aint got it yet den go get it, cuz u gay if u dont.

For the rest of the enlightening comments go to the City Boyz CD Baby page.

Would You Like CST to Seduce You?

Carpenter Square Theatre opened their 23rd season tonight with the Oklahoma Premier of "The Graduate," a stage adaptation of Charles Webb's novel and the 1967 screenplay that made Dustin Hoffman a household name. I was required to attend for my playwriting class, which is giving me plenty of excuses to see theatre. This was actually the first time I've been to a theatre since I left the professional theatre more than three years ago.

The overall production by Carpenter Square was satisfying. The play fits well in the round as it requires, nay demands, sparse scenery. The lack of elaborate scenic elements goes well with the short scenes that make quantum jumps in time and distance. (There are in fact ten different locations in the play, a huge number for live theatre.) The drawback to the many locations in the play was that the stage could only hold, at most, two locations at a time, one on one side of the stage and one on the other. That meant that the audience spent large chunks of time in the dark, a loathsome position for any grumpy theatre person.

The acting was what you would expect from a provincial non-prophet theatre. It was sometimes good and sometimes bad. David Mays, who played Benjamin (the main character) did a very fine job, especially considering the big shoes he had to fill taking on a role made famous by Dustin Hoffman. Vikki Simer made an acceptable, though not exceptionally attractive, Mrs. Robinson She played the drunk scenes very well, and many of the touching moment were well played as well but she didn't always make a great seductress and her voice could grate when she wasn't watching. Both Braddock parents (Terry Veal and Doobie Potter)left much too be desired. They approached the roles like character bits which worked okay for Mrs. Braddock but for Mr Braddock (Veal) the choice was a disaster. Rob Freedman fared only slightly better as Mr. Robinson, though his comic timing was impeccable and he did shine in moments, such as the confrontation scene after he learns of Benjamin's affair with his wife. He also did very well with the axe wielding scene in which he chops down the door of a church. Victoria Stahl did a wonderful job with the too short role of Elaine. Some of her emotion shifts seemed to sudden but that was as much a writing mistake as an acting one. Certainly this play required an extreme amount of courage from the actors as it was ripe with underwear and sex scenes, all in an intimate space where the audience is close enough to see body hair and thigh dimples peeking out.

Again, overall the production was pleasing.It could have used the tightening up of cleaner directing and desperately needed some dead space taken out. It also could have been organized better, with it's hour and a half first act and second half of under an hour. It was, however, good enough to ease my unexplainable discomfort of being in a theatre. As Charissa and I discussed, going into the theatre felt a little like running into an ex-girlfriend unexpectedly a few months after a nasty breakup. But it's good to be watching again. And I definitely won't miss "The Picnic" when Carpenter Square does it in the Spring.

NOT HARDING APPROPRIATE:

My formal undergraduate training from a private Christian university has taught be to wring my hands over whether or not the audience is offended. That said, I was very worried when in the fist act, Benjamin and Mrs. Robinson had elicit (but covered) sex right at my feet. My fears were eliviated when the extrememly old woman sitting next to be said, "Oh my. She's on top," and laughed herself silly. The actors rolled over and she said, "she had gorgeous hair." Heart, rest thyself and pound no more with worry about my fellow audience members.

The Sox Scuttling Ship?

The disappointment is now complete with reports that the Sox are trying to get a last minute trade for David Wells. Not that I like David Wells but, for you non-baseball fans, when a team starts making off late season trades, it is a sign that the team is realizing that it will not be in the post-season. Teams then start trying to get out of large contracts by send their players off on waivers.

This comes as Manny Ramirez and Willy Mo Pena have both been sent in for Medical Evaluation and Ortiz is dealing with an irregular heart beat. This is a painful time for a baseball fan when, after investing a season, he realizes that the rest of the season is a lame duck.

This will likely be my last post on the Red Sox this season (unless something extraordinary unfolds). We may catch a Rangers game, just for one last hurrah and that is that. It's lousy that such a promising season (which saw the Red Sox in first place most of the season) has spiraled into such a disaster but I guess that's the game. I'll keep watching when I can and listening the rest of the time but I probably won't listen carefully or write at all. So long until next year.

SOME SILVER LINING:

I just listened to Curt Schilling get his 3,000th career strikeout against Nick Swisher of the Oakland A's. Schilling becomes the 14th pitcher in MLB history to get 3,000 homeruns.

The First Clean Day...

...means soon it will be autumn. Two days af rain has washed away the 100+ weather, hopefully for good. One can tell that football season will start soon when he looks to the sky and, for the first time in months, there is no yellow hue. No fog and filthy air and, best of all, no high temp above 92 on the ten day forcast.

No October: a short play for Sox fans

The scene is Kenmore Subway Station, Boston. Several people stand along the back rail. On the wall behind them is an enormous picture of David Ortiz. It is an advertisement. Stage left of it is a smaller, framed poster with a picture of the yellow pages and the line "Our Yellow Monster."

One: Friends, we are here to fulfill our obligation. To do what we hoped we would never have to do.

Two: I am here because it is what my Nation expects from me.

Three: I'm here because we have been let down.

Four: Left behind.

Three: Left dreading the winter.

One: A winter which is to come early this year. All hope is gone. They have failed us again.

Two: Since childhood I have kept the faith.

Three: Since childhood I have blindly followed.

Four: I too have followed. I followed them to our Mecca, where I have circled the building and climbed the steps and bowed to its ancient majesty.

One: But they have left us in a lurch.

Two: And that is why there is no reason to go on.

Three: No reason to live.

Four: They killed our fathers and now they are killing us too.

One: Let us sing in one last Holy chorus.

Two: One last sweet song.

All: (singing) Sweet Caroline, buh, buh, buh, Good times never seemed so good. (crying a little) So good, so good, so good."

(The actual song fades in and the volume nearly drowns out the actors voices. The actors join hand and fall forward onto the third rail. Sparks, flickering lights and finally, darkness. The music continues.)

May I Please Panic Now???

For some reason, I feel hideous. Then, into the mix came this.

School starts tomorrow and I still haven't gotten the money in to go. I haven't gotten my transfer yet that will actually allow me to go to my classes. My team sucks. I'm angry at the people I go to church with and I'm a lousy writer.

I will spend the rest of my waking hours trying to decide whether to collapse or explode.

Baseball Today

I spent the evening with Charissa and baseball as the Redhawks took on the Tucson Sidewinders (Diamondbacks).

On paper, the games looked like a pitching duel. Micah Owings went six innings for the Sidewinders allowing only one run on ten hits. He walked two and fanned two. Derek Lee gave the Redhawks six innings, allowing two runs on six hits. A better way to describe this game, though, would be a failure to avoid base running mistakes. Baldiris was tagged out at home plate when he tried to go home on a fielder's choice to the short stop (who chose to through out the lead runner and avoid a run). Freddy Guzman (a guy known for hustle) tried to stretch a base hit to the center fielder into a double and got himself thrown out by a mile.

On the Sidewinders side, Brito made it to second on an E6 when Arias failed to catch a pick off but was instantly tagged out when he thought the ball had gotten away far enough to make it to third only to realize that the runner on third wasn't moving. 6-4 on the put out.

In the end, neither starting pitcher would get a decision, as Adrian Brown would score in the seventh on a sac fly by former Red Sox Adam Hyzdu(the run was un-earned. Brown stole second and the catcher committed a throwing error on the pickoff attempt, allowing him to take third.)

Then Kameron Loe, on a so far shaky rehab stint from Texas, pitched the eighth and ninth allowing two harmless hits, hitting a batter and striking another out. He would earn the win in the bottom of the ninth when Freddy Guzman hit a liner over the head of the right field and stretched the hit into a triple. Joaquin Arias then hit a sac fly for the RBI and the win. The Redhawks crawl back over .500, improving to 59-58.

The Glass is Either Half Empty or Three Quarters Empty:

The Red Sox lost their third straight tonight (two to the Devil Rays and one to the Royals). Because of that sad fact, we were left to sweat the outcome of the Yankees/White Sox game. In a classic case of damned if you do damned if you don't, the White Sox beat the Yanks to keep the Red Sox 2 games back in the East. For that I thank them. The fly in the ointment is, the win pushed the White Sox into the lead in the Wild Card Race.

In Over My Head?

I purchased my textbooks for my three graduate classes. The stack you see is eleven books. Eleven books for three classes.

Now, with just under two weeks to go, I am still dealing with financial aid which looks less and less likely to get to me in time. My back is against the wall and I must fight my way out with the weight of eleven books on my head.

The Unnamable

The Beckett Apmonia led me to a film clip. Scroll down to "Samuel Beckett: The Unnamable" and view the quicktime film. The short is based on Samuel Beckett's novel by the same name. Like all of Beckett's work, it is very strange. Seemingly meaningless, it is at the same time very disturbing. Here is the description of the film:

This film animates body parts, chess pieces and mechnical motifs as life's conveyor belt threatens to grind to a halt, but never does.
Contact jenny.triggs@blueyonder.co.uk for further information.

The bizarre film shows paper doll parts of a human body laid out and a set of hands moving the parts around, attempting to fit them together. A clock ticks away, as if to rush the maker. The body goes together but the pieces are mismatched. The body has an iron jaw, an armor shoulder and a disfigured claw-like hand.

A piece of paper (the instructions) are folded up and fed to the man. The man is electrocuted (it seems), then his eyes flicker and he comes to life. The film ends with the man on his knees, groping around, his head attached to a string.

I'm a Student Again

I enrolled in the graduate program in English at the University of Central Oklahoma today. My emphasis is in Creative Writing (playwriting). Tell me this degree isn't designed for me. Here are my classes for the fall:

1) Shakespeare's Comedies
2) Heroes and Heroines of the Bible
3) Playwriting

Anyway, back to school I go.

New One Minute Play

As you may remember, I like to sit and pound out a one minute play every now and then just as a writing exercise. I have written a new one, aptly, about a police officer. It's called "One Second in the Life of a City Cop"

Actor is not on stage or is hidden. Blue light. Steam. Perhaps a yellow light from above and to a side, a street light.

COP
(speaking very rapidly.)The whole thing took only one second. I got out of the car. He was standing there. Standing, right over there. First a stunned look like a dear in headlights. A cliche, I know. He was standing there, facing me, after the stunned look, a look of recognition. Not of me individually, we've never met. Or have I seen him before? On a call? Yes, I think so. He's sizing me up. He sees the blue uniform. He sees the badge and the belt. His torso is shrinking. He's drawing into himself. What is doing? Is he trying to fight, is he trying to run? His hand is moving. His right hand. He wears a yellow shirt and baggy jeans. His right hand is going in his right pocket. Now it's in his pocket. Tell him to show his hands. He's not showing his hands. Say it again, add a swear word. His hand is coming out. His hand is coming out but there's something in it. There's embroidery above the pocket, the name brand of the baggy jeans. His hand is still coming. Tell him to drop it he's not dropping it. Tell him to drop it now. Tell him and use a swear and draw. Fundamentals. Remember your training. Front sight, squeeze. Draw now. Draw faster and then there's a...

A shot is heard and a flash of light.

COP
It's over. But is he dead or am I? Was I too slow? Am I lying in a pool of blood in the gutter? Was I too fast. Was it a cell phone he pulled from his embroidered pocket? Should I have looked harder first? I need a moment to work it all out. Give me just a second.

That's Why They Call it the Bush Leagues

No night at the ball park is a bad night, unless your the guy that nearly got killed with a foul ball but tonight was pretty rough at the Brick.

The night started well enough. Jonny Bench, the greatest catcher of all time and an Oklahoma native, threw out the first pitch of a double header.

The first game was a makup game from April that rained out before the start of the third inning, so we saw the last seven innings of a three month old game. At the start of the day, the Redhawks had a 1-0 lead but when all was said and done, they turned it into a 9-2 loss. The only new run was a homerun by Jason Botts (I got a picture of the swing and they pics are forthcoming).

At the end of the first game, there was a thirty minute intermission before the start of the second. We let to get some ice cream at Marble Slab. We returned to find out that the second game would also only go seven innings, reportedly to aloow time for post game fireworks. I thought, surely it can't be. I know they're not shortening a game to make room for fireworks. Actually there is a rule that a game after completing a suspended game must be shortened but the announcement said that the game was only going seven so that we could enjoy the fireworks. Hmph.

THAT'S bush league. Hpw can a game really be comeplete without finishing nine innings? Rain shortened games being called complete makes me crazy enough.

The Wrap Up:

The game started badly. Starting Southpaw, Derek Lee saw eight batters in the first inning allowing two runs in the first on two hots and three walks. By the time Lee was through (after four inning) Lee allowed two runs, both earned, on five hits. He walked three and struck out there.

The Redhawks looked like they might have an inning going in the sixth when Catcher Tom Gregorio hit a lead off home run, they Meyer got a double and moved to third on a fielder's choice from Baldiris.

So when it seemd like the Hawks were still in the game, the Hawks third pitcher Scott Feldman came in and allowed another two runs on three hits (two of them doubles)

Nashville's starter Justin Lehr, on the other hand turned in six innings allowing only one run. He struck out four but did not walk anybody. Zumwalkt the came in for the seventh and got the last three batters in order, striking out former Red Sox Adam Hyzdu.

Box Score

The Sizzle is the Sound of our Skin

Oh blessed cool front, may you come and rescue us from these 110 degrees.

The Prophets Speak

ESPN has gone on a limb. Here was the intro into Sportcenter this morning:

No playoffs for the Bronx Bombers this year. Why the Yankees 11 year postseason run is about to end.

Every single ESPN baseball analyst has predicted the Red Sox to win the division based on the Sox defense (who thought they'd see the day), pitching and bullpen. More specifically they cite Red Sox pitchers Craig Hansen and Mike Timin as middle relievers who can get the ball to Papelbon, compared to the Yankees lack of strong middle relievers to get to theit star closer Mariono Rivera.

Then, of course, is the dominance that is the AL central. This is gearing up to be the first time ever that two teams from the AL central will advance to the playoffs as it looks to be almost a sure thing that the wild card will come out of the Central Divsion this year in the person of either the White Sox or the Tigers.

Oh, would heaven be so kind to give us a playoffs without the Yankees? Oh could that day truly come?

Most of them also predict a World Series of White Sox vs. Mets. I'm pulling for Red Sox vs. Mets and Alan and I will be enemies for seven games, this time without Bill Buckner or Bucky F&*^%$ Dent.

And One More Thing

Bud Selig can kiss my pucker. Maybe he should worry about fixing the steriod problem instead of pretending he's a doctor.

Shameless Name Dropping

My Memphis friend Mick Wright got a write-up in the Commercial Apeal (the Memphis daily newspaper). This is after he got some national media attention for his efforts to draft Condi Rice for President in '08. I thought I'd give him some attention here because you numb-skulls don't pay attention to the world around you and also so that I can gloat that my friend is famous.

Couple Pics from Boston

Fenway Park from the First Base Pavilion


Us at our table at "Top of The Hub" restaurant. This is on the 52nd floor of the Prudential Building


Us on a river boat tour on the Charles River with skyline in background. The tall building in the right side of the frame is where the restaurant in last pic was.


The Old State House. Sight of the Boston "massacre"

Spruill's in Beantown

Well, against our wishes, we have returned from Boston. Here's the story of our trip.

To save money, we flew out of Tulsa and into Providence, RI. The flying out of Tulsa was easy, because our friends Chris and Cory live there so they took us to the airport. Providence was another story. We landed in Providence, then took a city bus to the Dowtown bus terminal. On the bus ride, we met a character who we now lovingly call "Bleeding Gums." An apt name because the entire time we spent with him, his teeth became redder and redder. We then wait at the bus terminal for a Bonanza Bus (which is a company like Greyhound) where we picked up a bus to Boston. That bus took us to Boston's South Station with short stops in Pawtucket and Foxboro. When we reached South Station, we went down a flight a steps, up a flight of steps, down a flight of steps, then down another flight of steps and stepped onto the Subway. On the Subway we took the red Line to Park Street then the green line to Lechmere, where Eric (my uncle) picked us up.

After a trip to the Pals Club of Newbury Street (a club that Eric is a member of, which consists of two tables a T.V. and a fridge full of cheep beer) where I had a Corona a listened to each of Erics friends come in one at a time and say, "You should take the Duck Tour," all of which is actually pronounced, "Yoo shud tayke theh duck touh," we finally got to Eric's home in Belmont. If your're keeping track, that was planes, trains and automobiles all in one day. Tulsa to Cincinnati to Providence to Pawtucket to Foxboro to Boston to Cambridge to Belmont.

Our first full day in Boston, we spent the day in the Back Bay, mostly in Fenway Park where we took a tour then got to got go to a game, where Eric (who I think may have mafia ties) got us great tickets on the third base line. It was like visiting Mecca. It's hard to describe Fenway Park to non-baseball fans. It's so gritty and yet so beautiful. It's a tiny park as far as major league parks go, completely surrounded on all sides by city streets. The atmosphere is crazy. It's so loud and everyone's packed in so tight. I stood feet from Manny Ramirez, David Ortiz and Pedro Martinez who was visiting now with the Mets. I also saw my childhood hero Wade Boggs, who was on the '86 team, the first year that I was a Sox fan.

We spent the rest of the week visiting pubs, museums and historic sights. I'm not much of a beer drinker but there's nothing like drinking a Sam Adams Boston Lager in Boston, while a Sox game plays on T.V. with your fish and chips in front of you and your cute waitress with her Irish Accent taking your order. I fell in love with all my Irish waitresses. And that's okay because Charissa is in love with Sox outfielder Coco Crisp.

We even got to spend time with our college friend Angie who is doing her residency in Hartford and came up to spend a day.

There is plenty to say but this has gotten way too long, so I'll stop writing now. Make sure to see our pictures from the trip.

Five Days 'til Fenway

The Forecast:
High of 73
40% change of scattered thunderstorms

I'll be sporting my new vintage style Ted Williams jersey. Got a hat for Mo (who got us the tickets) got some t-shirts and coins to spread around and some peanut brittle for Erick.

One more day of work, a couple days with friends in Tulsa, then it's the plane ride to Beantown!

We All Hate the CHB!!!

I found the Dan Shaughnessy Watch blog. For those of you who don't know who the holy hell that is, Dan Shaughnessy (hereforeto known as the CHB) is the Boston Globe columnist who is credited as having popularized the phrase "Curse of the Bambino" when he wrote a book on the subject. Not to miss a marketing opportunity, he subsequently penned "Reversing the Curse," after the Sox finally won the Series in 2004.

CHB is likely the most hated man on earth to Red Sox fans every where. His columns are generally mean spirited and a little crazy. He's hard to read without wanting to shoot at your computer, probably why the site's tag line is, "We read him so you don't have to."

Here's a picture in Texas I took when I shot him...with my camera.

Video Vigilante in Trouble Again

It seems that Brian Bates, the self proclaimed "Video Vigilante" is in hot water again. A multi-county grand jury had convened in Oklahoma City, supposedly to decide on bringing charges against Bates for Pandering (legal term for pimpin'.)

DA Wes Lane brought charges against Bates in February of 2005 but charges were dismissed when the DA's office missed too many hearing deadlines.

The Grand Jury heard testimony from Renee McCullough who last year revealed that Bates had paid her from $40 to $60 to set up johns so that he could capture them in the act. They also heard from officers, other prostitutes and pretty much every person that Bates has ever known.

It should be noted that Bates has launched a website geared at un-seating DA Wes Lane because, as the tag line suggests, Bates thinks Lane is "Bad for children! Bad for the elderly! Bad for families! Bad for Oklahoma County!" Not that I totally disagree, it just seems interesting that Bates becomes an enemy of Wes Lane's shortly after Lane brings charges on him.

It is still unclear as to why Bates is so interested in filming prostitutes. Was his own mother a prostitute, leaving him with this awful grudge or is he just a nasty voyeur?

Others:
The Smoking Gun Report from Feb '05
Bates rarely updated Blog
Bates threatens witness

Where are these people's arms?

As I travel through the myspace profiles, I invariably come across these bizarre close up pictures of people taken at strange angles. You know, the ones where there arm extends and disappears either to the right or to the left of the frame. In some pictures, both arms extend on opposite directions as if to be giving the veiwer an uncomfortable hug.

Everyone knows that I'm talking about the self taken pictures. All over the internet there are self taken pictures with digital cameras and webcams. (The webcam pictures are the most disconcerting because I feel like my head has been severed and placed on someone's desk and that I now stare at my assailant from his workspace.)

I'm saddened by this new state of affairs in which we find ourselves. No longer do any of us have actual friends to snap our photos for us. Now we must take out own pictures in a masturbatory ritual of holding our camera out, turning in on ourselves and snapping away. Then we share our darkly lit photos with a world of pixilated friends whose voices we will never hear; whose skin we will never touch. We take only our own pictures, we touch only our own skin and we look at a screen that tells us that we have seventy-five friends.

View From the Cheap Seats

We decided to take in a ballgame for the second day in a row (pretty taxing for people without season tickets). We decided that we would mix up our experience. We have both sat in the bleachers before (with church youth groups mainly) and we usually sit in the lower reserved, almost always in sections 113 or 114. We we feel like an adventure, we sit on the third base side lower reserved. Tonight, we decided to sit in the upper reserved (AKA the "nose bleeds") which in the Bricktown Ballpark, we discovered, are not bad seats at all.

For one thing, there were fewer weirdos screaming obscenities at the visiting team, which was nice. There was one colorful character, who "hardly drinks any beer" that by the end was pretty wasted. He struck up a friendship with Charissa and I and ended up buying us drinks, the non-alcoholic kind of course. There was also a salesman from Colorado who got tired of sitting at the hotel and decided to come root for the Redhawks.

The Redhawks won, which is further distancing us from our former bad luck streak. The Hawks have now taken the first two in a four game series against the first place Isotopes of Albuquerque.

The hometeam won in the 11th inning off of a bizarre bounce over the heads of the Isotopes' Third Baseman and their Shortstop to become an RBI base hit for Catcher Nick Trzesniak. The hit drove in Jace Brewer who reached third on a triple in the previous at bat. The Redhawks are now 22-30, only 10.5 back in the division...

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Scanned Police Pics

I scanned in somne pictures from the news paper (The Oklahoman). One is from 2004 when I finished the FTO program and was interviewed by Oklahoman, Channel 9, Fox 25 and and maybe someone else. The other is from earlier this year when me and my dad (along with other Police families) were interviewed by the Oklahoman, KTOK 1000 and Channel 9.

Taking in a Day Game

The Park just looks different this time of day.

Joaquin Arias Stands on Third.

Something we haven't seen in a while.
Since we spent last night with my mother and Charissa's mother is in Texas not answering the phone, we decided that today would be a good day to go to the Brick and catch a game. Here are the three things we took from the day:

1) We are Not Bad Luck. Prior to today's game, teams that we were rooting for went 1-4 in games we had attended. The one being the Redhawks opener. We got an additional no decision in a Hawks game that we left in the twelfth inning, only for the Hawks to win minutes after we had to leave. For obvious reasons, we were starting to think that we were bad luck.

2) Sunscreen! My arms are as red as the Sox shirt I'm wearing. In the future, sunscreen in required equipment in day games.

3) Holiday Fans One thing about special occasions (i.e. Mother's Day)is that they often bring the Yahoos from the provinces into the city. From the geniuses in front of me, I learned valuable things like, "Thirty-Two. That's a good number. A Nascar number." (spoken by a woman, the honoree, the mother). I also heard her give the sagacious advice, "You're sleeping your life away. Get off your ass and turn on the T.V." This would have been hilarious if she was joking but instead, this was her retort to her son when he mentioned that he had not seen a particular really good show (Nascar?).

Pond Monster Gets His Revenge

Avid readers (Andrew) may remember this post in which I bragged about how I had attacked and defeated the "terrible alien beast that was swimming at the bottom of my pond."

More recently, you may remember that I imprisoned my dog Cooper.

Well, in a well thought out scheme after what was no doubt months of planning (especially when you consider the language barrier between Dog and Alien Beast) the two have conspired to bring about my downfall and complete destruction. Here's how it all went down.

We let Cooper out for his evening pee. When it was time for him to come in, Charissa went to let him in but he would not come. I didn't realize that he wasn't in the house until I heard him outside barking. I may be wrong, considering the language barrier between Dog and English, but I'm pretty sure he was saying "shoot me! Shoot me!" and offer I am more and more inclined to take.

I called upstairs to Charissa, "Is the dog in?" She replied, "No. He wouldn't come in." Lo, in a moment of machismo, I thought, 'I'll show her how to get the dog in. This is a job for Daddy!'

I went into the back yard and calmly walked out to get the dog. He played his little game where he runs up to you then takes off just before you can get him and clean his feet. I have learned a trick to getting the dog in the house. I always runs away ion a big loop in which he runs to the west of the yard then curves back in and ends up in the 8 foot stretch of real estate on the east side of the pond. I have learned that if you walk to the east side of the pond, it cuts him off and he will run onto the porch in confusion. Then if you follow his loop backward, he has no opportunity to escape and he stays on the porch until you've caught him.

Well, I cut the dog's escape off, as I always do, and he began to retreat to the porch. Then I began my pursuit which involves walking around the pond. It's a maneuver that I've made a thousands times successfully.

Well not on this day. The pond monster was waiting for me. I began to walk west bound and suddenly, without warning, I was up top my shoulders in cold stagnant pond water. Anyone who had ever fallen knows the sensation when you realize that you are falling and try to fight. You feel your balance slipping and reach for anything to grab. You know you are falling but cannot stop. This never happened for me. It was swift as death. One moment I was walking. The next, I was swimming. It wasn't so much like I had slipped and fallen into the pond as much as if it was like I had simply stepped into it off a diving board.

The pond monster soaked me in my jeans and three quarter sleeve baseball shirt. It kept one of my flip flops and I'm feeling the onset of spinal meningitis. Could this be my final post? Has the pond monster finally killed me aided by Cooper the Dog? Does Cooper realize that if I die tonight, Charissa will honorably take her own life like Juliet when she finds her lover dead and that he will be left in his jail cell to starve? So who is the clear winner? The Pond Monster, who will feed off the gold fish and moss until it grows and swallows up the yard, then the house, then the block and finally, the world!!!

Cab Drivers: Crazy Since 1935.

So, it's slow for a Saturday and I have to go to Central Headquarters to drop of an impound sheet. As I pull up, I get a message from my young partner, "Can you come by my call?" I waste no time but I'm in no hurry. I don't drop off my impound. Instead I head down Lee, then west on Main then South on Shartel, slowly snaking through the one way streets to go to 2100 S. Harvey. I only make it to Shartel and California when a cab driver comes west and tried to make a left turn onto Shartel. The problem? I'm on Shartel, he has a stop sign and he doesn't see me or the stop sign. So now I have a yellow dent on my scout car and Yellow Cab's insurance owes the city $590.20.

AMERICA'S Pastime!

Thanks Mick for this article and reminder that heroism is found in unlikely places, like Dodger Stadium.

Old photo.

Just stuck this here so I could update my profile.

Oh, How Times Have Changed

I was browsing on the OCPD website today, looking through the "fallen heroes" section where there is a short tribute to each of the Oklahoma City officers who have been killed in the line of duty.

The entry for our very first in-the-line death was especially interesting. It recounts the death of City Marshall John Howard, only two months after the Land Run.

June 14, 1889


One day after John S. Howard was appointed the City Marshal of South Oklahoma [City], he was confronted by his predecessor who was in a drunken rage, angered by his dismissal. A gunfight ensued in the 100 block of West Reno and the previous Marshal fatally wounded Marshal Howard.

The 100 block of West Reno, where the Marshall was gunned down by the former Marshall is now home to the Ford Center, where the Blazers and the Hornets play. Isn't that something.

Minor League Opener: Redhawks and Redbirds

I played hooky tonight. Instead of working like I was supposed to and instead of sleeping, which is what I should have been doing, I took in the Opening Night of the Redhawks AAA season.

The hometown Hawks took on the team from my other Hometown, the Memphis Redbirds. The game looked like it was off to a quick start when the Redhawks scored 3 runs in the first then Memphis answered with 3 in the seconds and another on the forth to make it 4 to 3 Memphis. But then the pitchers settled down. The pitchers settled down. The Redhawks scored one more off an RBI double again in the 6th. Then nothing happened except bush-league play.

The Redbirds committed three errors, all of which proved harmless against a stifled Oklahoma offense which went 3 for 20 with men in scoring position. (The Redbirds posted an almost as stunning figure of 3 for 18.) The twelfth inning was the Redhawks load the bases with no outs and somehow squander the opportunity.

Oklahoma's lack of production was coupled with some great defense against the Redbirds (3 double plays, 10 srikeouts) made for a long game. Finally, the Redhawks pulled it out in the 13th inning with another RBI double and a play at the plate.

Redhawks beat the Memphis Redbirds 5-4 and are now 1-1 in the young season. Tejeda gets a no decision but earns an ERA of 9.00. Durocher gets the win. Benes gets the loss and an ERA of 27.00 (faced four batters in 1/3 of an inning. Gotta love lopsided stats after the first game or two.)

I'm Bad Luck

For the past two years now I've picked a day and driven down to Texas to see my beloved Sox. And both times, the team has lost in heart breaking fashion. That's about all I can say about that. Allen Wood sums it up on his blog and I grace his post with a reply. But since it hurts too bad to talk about it, I'll just show you some good pics from the game.

The Big Boys!

Coco Crisp stretches with the Rangers Mascot.

Spruills and Pastrans in patriotic regalia.

Opening Day in Review

Red Sox at Texas Rangers

The two big stories here were both from old men who throw the ball. Curt Schilling looked like the pitcher of the 2004 series. He pitched 117 pitches to last seven innings allowing five hits and two runs, both earned, while posting five strike outs. He had great command and threw consistently at 92 to 93 MPH. He pitched his highest at 94 MPH. If this is a sign of things to come, I am very optimistic that our ace has returned.

The other story was Roger Clemens's visit to the redsox clubhouse. He insisted that he still considers himself retired though his agent continues to wheel and deal around him. Apparently, his playing future has been a topic of conversation in his household as well:

My two little ones are warming up to the idea [of Boston]. Boston is very special to me. The video they made had a little bit of everything and brought back a lot of memories. I got to see the young me.

If I end up coming back and playing with that club, it has nothing to do with the offer, it has to do with my mind-set. But I have a fondness for all these teams we're talking about.

It would be something special. Extremely special. No doubt.

One other note on the Sox opener. Keith Foulke. Very Scary.

Controversy!

It's no secret that I am no fan of Barry Bonds, but the actions of one Padres fan took it a step too far when he threw a syringe onto the playing field a few feet from Barry.

I hate the guy but I also think that the players must feel safe to walk onto the field without objects flying at them. Even though there was no needle in the syringe, it could hit a player in the eye, ending his game. Not to mention it's just class-less and disgusting. Make your signs, shout your insults but keep your objects in your pockets.

OPENING DAY!!!!

It's finally arrived. Since the first chilly day after baseball I've waited for the new season and now the new season is finally here. Schilling is healthy (he says) the lineup is set and the bullpen is improved.

What I love about opening day is that anything is possible. This could be the year that we finally break the Yankees winning streak in the AL east. This could be the start of the season that leads to the Sox second World Series in three years.

And of course, tomorrow I will be in Arlington with Charissa and Tina and Ronnie.

Probable Opening Day lineup:
1. CF Coco Crisp
2. 2B Mark Loretta
3. DH David Ortiz
4. LF Manny Ramirez
5. RF Trot Nixon
6. C Jason Varitek
7. 3B Mike Lowell
8. 1B Kevin Youkilis
9. SS Alex Gonzalez
P Curt Schilling

Cooper Imprisoned

Cooper the Dog was found guilty last week on several counts of pee-ing on the floor and three counts of pooping-on the floor After Former Conviction. He has now been sentenced to evenings in jail for the remainder of his natural life. In the Court's written opinion, Judge Dad said, "Mr. the Dog has shown that he can no longer be trusted by society to refrain from doing his duty on the carpet while society rests in it's bed, therefore he must spend every night in a jail cell, where he cannot roam free to harm deep carpet fibers."

The prosecutor, Mommy made this statement: "Cooper has shown the worst kind of recidivism in the area of wetting his britches. The aggravating circumstance is that he doesn't wear britches."

Chloe the Cat, a defense advocate said, "Jailing Cooper the Dog does not reform him, nor does it make the carpet of society any safer. The only thing it accomplishes is that he must now be housed in an area of the house that I feel like I should own. But now Coopers rights under the forth and fifth amendments have been taken by the Judge and my land has been taken away by imminent domain." Cooper's attorney said Cooper will file an appeal "worthwith," which is legal mumbo-jumbo for, "as soon as Cooper pays his attorney $300."

Are You Ready for Some Baseball?!

This time of year, I get lots of baseball stuff coming in the mail. It's actually been a couple weeks since I got in my latest shipments of Sox Tickets and Baseball caps but I forgot to mention it and I needed a quick post so here's my stuff. So here's my bragging post: Look where I'm going on my b-day.

And even thought they're already out of it, "Viva la Venezuela!" Now if my own U.S. team can beat Mexico and stay alive!

The Red Sox Cookie Off

I know from the player's blogs what last seasons secret ingredient was. Whose cookie has the right stuff this year?

Dumb Idea for Racial Equality

I learned on the Officer Down Memorial Page that Chicago City Council woman Madeline Haithcock has proposed renaming a Chicago Street after Fred Hampton, a former Black Panther chairman who advocated the killing of Police Officers. During his chairmanship, black panther members killed five police officers, including two Chicago Officers. Hampton himself was killed in a raid in his apartment.

Fraternal Order of Police President Mark Donahue:

It's a dark day when we honor someone who would advocate killing policemen and who took great advantage of the communities he claimed to have been serving. We have real, everyday heroes within the department who would be better honored than someone of the stature of Fred Hampton

Read this article for some of the asinine stuff Haithcock said in defense of her proposal.

The officers murdered by the Black Panthers were:

Frank Rappaport
John J. Gilhooly
Glenn E. Smith (a black officer)
Kenneth Carmel Patrick
Ricky Leon Kinchen (a black deputy)

Almost Time to Wave the Sox Flag!

On the second day of the regular season, I will be in Texas watching the Red Sox play the Rangers. I will be sitting in section 14, Row 4. It will look a little something like this:

Headline of the Day

Earth's Population to hit 6.5 Billion Saturday

That's right, exactly Saturday!

Tonight's Ridiculous Fox News Teaser

From time to time, I quote the stupid local fox news promos on the blog. The reason is, Fox news (at least our local affiliate) loves reactionary stories that border on racist! I hate to use the word "racist" since it's such a buzz word, overused to the point that it no longer has meaning but there's not another word for it. Maybe, isolationist or ultra-nationalistic. Anyway, here's tonight's ridiculous promo, stirring us to wonder how safe we really are.

Thousands of ships go through these ports daily. So, what are we doing to handle security? How about, handing them over to an Arab company. Tonight, the deal that could sink us all.

I guess I should stop eating at Zorba's. It's owned by an Iranian and I would hate it if he put a dirty bomb in my gyro.

Read Much?

With the recent cold snap, I have had a good excuse to do what I really want to do; chain myself to my futon and read non-stop. In my last post, I mentioned that I was reading the Don DeLillo novel "Cosmopolis" and I promised to comment. I decided that I needed to ruminate over the book a little more before discussing it. In the meantime, I have completed the 738 page Tom Wolfe novel "I am Charlotte Simmons" a book that I have been waiting to go to paperback so I could afford it. With the cold whether, I read the last 412 pages in the last 48 hours!

So it's time to compare the two, starting in chronological order.


Cosmopolis by Don DeLillo

I have been a fan of Don DeLillo since I read "Underworld" in 2002 after listening to an English student laud the merit of the book. Cosmopolis is the forth? fifth? book by DeLillo that I have read. Of the four or five I have read, this one was the most disappointing.

The book is a kind of modern usage of the Greek tragic method, that is, a heroic character meets his downfall due to a single character flaw. Eric, the major character (note my hesitation in calling him the protagonist), is the modern hero; the ultra rich twenty something. I can't deny that it is a masterful piece of writing. DeLillo is one of my favorite geniuses but I hated this book.

Eric's critical flaw seems to be (I get this from reading the book and listening to a DeLillo interview)that he is unable to think of anyone but himself. In fact, the plot is centered around Eric's desire to get a hair cut. I am forced to admit that in the end, it becomes a decent story of redemption and learning too late that there are others in the universe. The problem is the ride to get there. In true postmodern fashion, DeLillo treats Eric's other destructive traits as completely natural, not part of his flaw at all. Eric's ridiculous vanity and sexual proclivity are treated as side issues, not vices at all but a luxury available to the rich that are supposed to make Eric's fortune complete.



I am Charlotte Simmons by Tom Wolfe

"I am Charlotte Simmons" on the other hand seems a little more willing to call a spade a spade. In his novel, Tom Wolfe treats human sexual proclivity (which doesn't mean promiscuity by the way. Look it up) as the dangerous catalyst to destruction that it is. The book is not about sex per se, but it takes a rightful place near center in the novel, which is about college life.

Wolfe expertly depicts the ridiculousness of the "maturing" process in that oh so important college experience. He shines light on and exposes all that is banal about humanity and hypocritical about academia: the rampant sexuality bordering on perversion ("wanna swap [partners]?"), the dumb language of young men, which he comically refers to as f--k patois (look it up), and the endless snipping and sniping of females ages 18-22.

The plot centers on the sometimes heart warming and sometimes heartbreaking story of Charlotte Simmons, a self loathing back woods girl thrown into ivy league college life. He outlines her sub-text and speaks her thoughts in such a way that I thought 'this must be exactly how girls think.' Since I don't know that for sure, I plan to force my wife to read the book and tell me for sure, expecting fully that she will say "Oh it's so true."

Story in the Works

Sorry that I haven't updated more recently. I have been working on a story. The idea came to me when I was listening to my wife and Yancey (member of my church home group) talking about my writing style. Yancey had to point out that all of my stories end in death, which, though I would like to deny it, is mostly or completely true. Charissa said that I do this because I "like closure and there's no better closure than death." This instantly got me going because I don't necessarily always like closure.

Then the idea sprang full grown from the head of Zeus. I would write a story in which no one dies in the end and that has no closure whatsoever. The product is a new short story called "Jack in Limbo." The story is about a man who dies in the beginning and is inexplicably stuck on earth. This becomes frustrating to him as he learns things about his life that he did not want to know.

A few of you will get the story e-mailed to them to help me revise but most of you will just have to wait for it to publish somewhere, if I can get any fool to take it. I would post it for you on the blog except it's thirty three full pages long!

I've also been reading a terribly disappointing Don DeLillo novel that maybe I'll talk about tomorrow. Stay tuned for updates.

Scary Moment

In an odd anti deja vu, I had a dream the night before last about being in a shooting. I actually had the same dream back to back. I woke up after the dream, went back to sleap, and had the same dream over again with slightly different details.

Last night at work, I got into a short pursuit that ended in a driver of a stolen vehicle running the car into a ditch and bailing out. We ran and ran and ran, probably a quartet mile before it was all said and done. Toward the end of the foor chase, I reached down do feel my gun and didn't feel a gun there. I looked down. No gun. no holster either. My entire holster was missing, somewhere between me and my car in one of the most dangerous parts of the city.

We found the gun andthe bottom half of the holster right next to my car. It's a sinking feeling to realize that you ran that far in a high crime drug area with no gun. Incidentally, I found out that the brand of holster I was issued has just been recalled because "there is a small rick of failure." Imagine that.

Here's what it looks like:

Recent Home Improvements

Here are some pics of what we've been doing to our house. What you are about to see is about $800 worth of stuff and lots of work. Thankfully, we got lots of gift cards for Christmas, so other people money softened the blow to us.


Here is the dining room. As you can see by the drop clothes and pait buckets in the photo, this was just done. Im fact, at the time of this post, the paint has yet to dry.


Here is the biggest portion of the money we've put into the house. That's new tile on the floor, new paint on the wall and in the back, a new stove. The kitchen is small but now it's sweeeeeet.



Ah. This was actually done a long time ago, but since I never posted pics, this is the new color in the living room. I love thje way the stairwell pops with this new paint.

There it is kids. In case any of you rent and are considering buying, please remember; it's just just the grand we've sunk into making the house look good (we're no where near done) it's also the money to fix the AC and the dishwasher and the plumbing in the bathroom and the sewer line in the back yard and the front door and the toilet seats...

Bye for now. I got some more honey-do's ahead of me.

The Frog in the Wig

I tried to update my profile and got a new question for it. The question was "The children are waiting. Tell the story about the frog in the wig." It wouldn't take my answer because it was more than 150 characters long, so here is my story about the frog in the wig:

The bald frog with the wig was about to finally score with the princess, which would have turned him into a handsome prince. Just at the moment in which the princess was at the breaking point of ecstasy, the frog's powdered wig fell off. It slid over his face and onto the floor. At that moment, she realized that he was not a distinguished member of the House of Commons, as he had told her, but only an ordinary frog. She ran away and he remains a frog today.

The End

I Won't Forget the Men Who Died

I was going through a shelf on my book case today, considering what I should keep and what I should get rid of as I am running out of shelf space. I came across the portfolio book that I had to make as part of my Senior Capstone Project. As most of you know, that project was to direct "All My Sons," which I did in early 2002.

I chose the play in the Spring of 2001 and was already heavy into the dramaturgy when September 11th happened. By the play was performed, our nation's involvement in Afganistan was still fresh and we had not yet gone into Iraq. At the time, I had no idea how relevant the issues raised in my play would become.

I read the program from the play today and thought about how much I learned about the character of our nation by directing the play. Yet, as I read the director's notes, I realize how much more the sacrifice of our young men means to me now that we, as a society, are seeing the sacrifices for real. I have decided to publish the Director's Note on the back of the All My Sons Program here with the admonishment to remember what you have and what it has meant for you to have it.

"Finally the Word Came-Let's go- and there we were in combat, something new in my life. But, oh, What an experience...pulled myself together and tried to locate my outfit...But, what was left of them, just a handful, about 26 out of 160."
-PFC Dom Bart
-From War Letters
-Ed. by Andrew Caroll

When I began working on "All My Sons," I had no idea how much this powerful script would change me. The power behind "All My Sons" is that it begins as a common story. It is the story of any family in the mid to late nineteen forties. As Joe says, "That's what a war does. It changed all the tallies. I had two sons, now I got one." But unlike other families, this one has something to hide. No other script that I have ever worked with addresses so clearly and successfully the anguish of death, the ecstacy of love and the terror of a past that will not fade. No other script presents so skillfully the impact of that Great War on the individual family that was changed by it. Hundreds of thousands of men gave life and limb to secure the freedom of people thousands of miles away. we hope that this production will move each audience member to, as Chris says, "bring that to Earth again, as some kind of monument," and it will remind people that, "when you drive that new car, you've got to know that it came out of the love a man can have for a man. You've got to be a little better because of that."

January 2002.