The Reign of Terror is Over!!

So, do you remember that one level on Super Mario Brothers 3? The one where you're running through the desert, and that angry sun is swirling around in the sky overhead? And then every so often, he dive-bombs Mario/Luigi and tries to fuck their shit up?

Remember this guy?

He's the bastard that has been beating down on Central Ohio for quite some time, and that has generally been turning our house into a Swamp-Ass Sauna.

Well, no longer!

As of about 10:00 this morning, the A/C has been fixed, and for a mere $50 service fee. I would strongly recommend to anyone buying a house: get a home warranty. I compare it to AAA Roadside Assistance: you never realize how smart it is to have until you lock your keys in your running car at 2:00 AM (or, in this case, until your air conditioner breaks in the span of the hottest stretch of days of the entire summer thus far).

Melissa is finally back from North Carolina, and now that the A/C is fixed, we're hoping to pick up our pooch to reunite the entire family. It'll be good to have the little guy home. He's been gone since Monday morning, so I've essentially had three days with nobody to talk to at home. Not good times.

In other news, my band has a show next Friday night here in Columbus at Bernie's on High Street. Should be a good time. John, our singer, has purchased a 10-watt bullhorn from Radio Shack. No rock band is really a rock band until the singer is yelling/singing through a bullhorn. This is our first local show on a Friday night in quite some time, so hopefully the turnout will be better than usual.

Remember that scene in the Simpsons where Homer has the air conditioner, and he's bundled up in the living room while his sisters-in-law melt outside the window? That will be me sooner rather than later.

I'm Tired.

Suffice it to say that I played 27 holes of golf this weekend. While the worst day golfing is better than the best day working, it just so happened to be the hottest days of the year this weekend. I managed not to get sunburned, which is huge considering I generally just go directly from pale white to tomato-red after about an hour in the sun. Viva la sunscreen!

However, in a casualty of the weekend, the eight of us returned to my home Saturday after 18 holes of golf (an incredibly LONG 18 holes, as for some reason they let people walk on Saturdays during peak hours... ARGHH) to find a broken air conditioner. Did I mention it was probably the hottest day of the year so far on Saturday? The A/C was actually blowing HOT air at one point, and the house was almost 90 degrees. Not good when entertaining 8 people, and definitely not good for little black and tan pooches that might live there.

Thankfully, Riley is now on holiday at Club Grandparents, where the A/C is working perfectly. Once Melissa returns from her trip to the beach in North Carolina, she will be able to take care of him at Club Hotter-Than-FUCK (aka, our house). The A/C people are also coming on Wednesday. Viva la Home Warranty!

All in all, a topsey-turvey weekend, but a good one. My brother and two good friends made the trip to C-bus, and my friends came through in fine fashion with golfing, beers, poker, and lots of food. I'll go out on a limb and say a good time was had by all, except for maybe my liver and my stomach (donuts + Gatorade + a hang-over = NOT GOOD TIMES).

Now, if my house would just be magically clean when I get home from work today...

Reflections

After a week, here are some reflections:

• Celebrating a birthday, having calling hours, and burying a relative in a 36-48-hour span is quite difficult on the emotions. It's hard to keep everything in perspective sometimes. It was nice to see a lot of my family members that I might not otherwise have seen, but it's never fun to realize the reason for which you're getting to see everyone. The service was very nice, and I got to see a lot of pictures and effects of my grandmother as a younger woman. It was clear from all that I saw, heard, and read that she had lived an amazing life, had impacted a great number of people, and was generally loved and respected by essentially everyone. That brought a smile to my face in the end.


• Building a deck is hard fucking work! What a father's day weekend: my step-father and I began building a 16' x 20' deck in my back yard. What fun! I hope to snap and post some pictures of the building in process. This weekend allowed us to drill 9 36"-deep post holes (7 with a 2-person post-hole digger, 2 BY HAND--OUCH), set 7 posts, use those posts to frame the first 16' x 16' section (the other 8 feet are cut out around part of the house) and set a cross beam. We rule so much that everything is square, level, and the deck is perfectly square (16' across both directions). Granted, I can barely move my arms and legs this morning, but as it takes shape in the back yard, I get more and more excited for its completion.


• Planning a wedding is the most insanse thing. It's a wonder to me why more people don't elope. And, I'm not even the one doing the lion's share of the work! I can't wait to actually get married, if for no other reason than the madness will stop!


• The Cleveland Indians: if you looked up "on fire" in the dictionary, there would be a picture of this team. Seemingly left for dead at 25-29 after starting a road trip 1-4 against the two teams ahead of them, they've rattled off 12 wins in 13 games, including their current 9-game winning streak that involves the sweeping of three separate teams. Now at 37-30, they are one game behind the current Wild Card leaders in the AL... a lot can change in two weeks, especially when you go 12-1 over a 15-day span. They get a true test when the World Champion Red Sox (whom I fucking hate with a vile passion reserved for a select few things in this world) come to town. If they can take 2 of 3 from the Sox, things will get interesting: cue Morpheus from Matrix 1: "He's beginning to believe."

Other than that, not much is going on (ha!). Melissa's birthday was yesterday; we had a nice dinner, and despite all of the traveling and home construction of this past week, I managed to come through with some gifts yesterday.

I'm looking forward to getting my back yard cleaned up, spending some time at home with my sweetie, practicing with my band again (it's been a LONG time!), and the impending arrival of my brother and best friend this Friday for, as my brother has dubbed it, "The Weekend of the Dan" (read: de facto bachelor party). He and I will be playing 9 holes (hopefully) at the airport course on Friday between his flight's arrival and Jason's flight's arrival, a group of us will be playing 18 holes on Saturday morning, followed by a small Texas Hold 'Em tournament. To quote my brother: "Post-golf shall follow the previously stipulated informal progression of bacheloresque comsumables and activities."

I can only imagine.

We Miss You Terribly Already

We lost Grandma on Saturday morning. Melissa and I were fortunate enough to be with her Friday evening when she was awake and alert enough to see us and hear us (although still on the ventilator and thus unable to communicate). The last thing I told her was that I loved her and I'd see her Saturday.

There are certain pangs about getting older. In the last two years, I've lost both of my living grandmothers (both grandfathers had already passed on) as well as a good friend from high school (to cancer). It really challenges you to live each day to the fullest, and never to leave anything unsaid.

Tell the people that are important to you that you love them.

Grandma, I love you. I miss you. You did more for this family than I think you would have ever known. I hope that now you can see the impact you had on so many lives. The world is certainly worse off for having lost you, but we all know that Heaven is that much the better now that you're there.

You're home.

Of Optimism and Being Grounded

It seems my overwhelming optimism of yesterday may have been premature.

I appears that my Grandma has taken a turn for the worse. Her actual surgery was fine and a success, but it was ironically enough the stopping of her medications in order to perform the surgery that may have contributed to this worsening of her condition.

At any rate, according to my father this morning, she will either recover fairly quickly now that they have her on a ventilator in ICU, or she will deteriorate fairly quickly as there isn't much else they can do for her.

Thankfully, I had already planned to go north to Vermilion to visit my dad this afternoon, so if nothing else I will get to see her one last time, even though that will mean essentially looking into an ICU room at an unconscious woman. Nevertheless, goodbyes are goodbyes. I'm hoping it won't be goodbye, but I'm preparing myself for it.

She's my last living grandparent, and I'm not sure yet how that would make me feel.

At any rate, I know basically no one reads this; but, if you happen to be here reading, please say a prayer (or whatever your spiritual modus operandi might be) for our family.

DMB Final Score Card

Remember all of that drivel about anxiety I wrote yesterday?

I'm such a cry-baby.

Here's your final Dave Matthews Band, June 8th, 2005 Scorecard:

First Things First:
Number of Successful Grandma Colon Surgeries: ONE
Per my dad, Grandma came through her surgery well. While still drugged up, she was reportedly doing well. Her chance stomach discomfort had allowed them to find the tumor early. They were able to remove lymph tissue as well, which hopefully means there hasn't been any spreading. We won't know until about Monday whether the prognosis is excellent, but from the sounds of things, she cleared a major hurdle. Not bad for our little 90-year-old sparkplug!

Seats: Section F, Row BB, seats 18-19
Dead center, back of the pavilion. Although we were in the rain for the early parts of the show (why anyone would build a pavilion cover that doesn't actually cover all of the seats in said pavilion is beyond me), by the time DMB came on, it was mostly done. I was dry by the time I got to the car. The seats were perfect: great blend of all of the sounds, dead center of the pavilion.

Opening Act: Robert Randolph and the Family Band - A
These guys get very high marks. Imagine, if you will, a holy union between Phish and "Higher Ground"-era Stevie Wonder. Check these guys out. The energy they had was phenomenal.

DMB Setlist: B+
Way too many songs off of the new album (see previous post for my feelings), but thankfully the setlist was counter-balanced by a great dose of old favorites. Nothing off of the wretched Everyday album; TWO songs from Remember Two Things, including a 20+ minute version of "Seek Up" (that may have in fact caused me to cream my shorts) and "One Sweet World", a "#40" tease, a "#41" sighting (a favorite of mine thanks to the version I have on Listener Supported), "Lover Lay Down" (which is a favorite of my sweetie), "Crush", and the anthem "Warehouse" as a closer. Despite the fact that they played 8 songs from the new album (of which, 4 or 5 I could at least tolerate), all of these other treats more than made up for it. I'd always wanted to hear "#41" and "Seek Up" in a live setting, and never had.

Musicianship: Solid A
Though Dave's songwriting has suffered, the band's playing apparently is still as sharp as ever. They were tight; they jammed extensively; they soloed prolifically. As a drummer, Carter Beauford again reminded me that it really is his world: I'm just a squirrel tryin' to get a nut. You know how some lizards and birds have "autonomous" eyes, wherein each eye is completely detached from the other and can look in whichever direction it chooses? Carter's like that, with his arms and feet. When I play, I am predominantly right-handed, and my muscles have trained themselves to break down beats in only that way. Carter pretty much does whatever the hell he wants to with whichever arm and/or foot he chooses. It's almost like he's a cyborg with four autonomous limbs.
DMB stretched out the songs to the point that some of the short, uninspired fodder from the new album was actually almost decent. Robert Randolph (see above) played a mean steel guitar on two of those, and it almost made me forget that I hated those particular songs.

Contact Buzz: C+
There were some good puffs that came across my nose, but nothing to get excited about.

Butch Taylor Sightings: Many
Good old Busschhhh was in full force on the keys last night. He rocked "Seek Up" like he was there when they wrote it. It must be great to have DMB as your meal ticket, and be given free reign. Unless Carter Beauford gets hit by a bus and I suddenly become Jesus reincarnate on drums, I'll be relegated to dreaming.

Demographics: I'm old, but the joke's on the babies
Upon the start of the show, it made us feel really old. A lot of youngsters. However, the joke was on them when DMB played "One Sweet World" and "Seek Up" within close proximity of each other: all of those punks that were singing along and cheering loudest for the new stuff were 3 or 4 when that album came out and probably had no idea what songs they were. Put your "retro" John Deere trucker hat back on and take a seat, Mr. Abercrombie & Fitch.

Number of Cars Parked "Illegally" at BW3's: THREE
So, Melissa and I met another couple at BW3's (across the street from the amphitheater) for dinner prior to the show. Keep in mind, we were already gouged for parking when we bought the tickets (part of the "convenience" charge), AND we bought food and beverage at said BW3's. Yet, there were two of Columbus's finest patrolling the lot with a "no concert parking: towing enforced" sandwich sign set up. Like they don't have anything better to do?? I saved my receipts for dinner and drinks, just in case.....

Number of Cars Towed from BW3's: ZERO
Ha haaaaa! Suckers!

Number of Dookies Dropped in House by Dog Left Alone for 7+ Hours: ZERO
And really, isn't that what it's all about?


Final Grade for the Evening: Solid B+/A-

Now, if only I had any motivation to do *any* kind of meaningful work today...

Anxiety

So, what am I anxious about today?

1. How much it's going to cost to fix the sun roof in my car?

Bah. Child's play. I've got the money.


2. My impending wedding, and the blow-up I had with my mother on the phone last night about it?

Nah, if only for no other reason than feeling shitty about it isn't going to change anything. She's still going to be mad, and Melissa and I aren't changing our minds.


3. My Grandma's colon surgery that's happening this morning?

Well, yes, truthfully. But I'm taking the more "ostrich" approach to that. She's going to be fine, and if I don't think about it, it isn't happening. At least, that's what I tell myself. And, if I say it enough times, it has to be true, right?


What's in my craw this morning? I'm listening to the new Coldplay album I bought, and so far it hasn't disappointed. However, four of us are going to see Dave Matthews Band tonight in our annual birthday pilgrimage (mine is 6/14, hers is 6/19, and DMB usually shows up around these parts sometime in early June for a couple of evenings).

This year is starting to feel like going to a sporting event where an aging veteran has been injured for awhile and is coming back. You wonder to yourself: does he still have his fastball? Can he ever be as good as he once was? AM I GOING TO BE DISAPPOINTED??

Well, we've seen Dave every summer that we've been together, and he's actually gotten better each time. Last fall's "Vote for Change" concert in Dayton (with Ben Harper, Jurassic 5, and My Morning Jacket) was--without hyperbole--fucking awesome.

Last summer, there was the specter of a new DMB album hanging over the shows; would they play "new" stuff? Would it be good? They did, and it was.

Imagine my horror, then, when I purchased said new album last month and found that of the five new songs I'd heard the previous summer, only one (and in my opinion, the worst of them) made it onto the record. Instead, Dave had elected to become an African/Lou-si-anna Bayou singer. Of course, being Dave Matthews, that's certainly his prerogative; he's more than paid his dues. If he wants to go to Africa with Trey Anistasio, make movies about Winn-Dixie, and use those "experiences" to sell out the other musicians in his band, he certainly can. After all, the joke would be on me: I bought the stinking record.

I, however, did not like it. The songs are unimaginative, short, and really do not showcase the musicianship that made DMB so damn good. When a Dave Matthews Band album sounds like it could have been recorded with Dave Matthews and four or five hired studio musicians, that--to me--is a bad sign.

So, suffice it to say, I'm not exactly looking forward to the prospect of an evening of this "new" material, especially considering the last two DMB albums have been fairly horrendous.

Couple that in with the $8-per-ticket "convenience" charge (an oxy-moron if there ever was one), and I think it's quite possible that this has the potential to be my last DMB show for quite some time. And that's a sad feeling. Kind of like seeing that 38-year-old pitcher trotting in from the bullpen, fresh off of his shoulder surgery, just trying to hang on for one more season...


And Grandma, don't let my sardonic writing fool you; I really am thinking about you. Godspeed, love.

Brief Political Interlude

In contrast to my vulgar church sign creations, here's a piece of real (potentially important) information for anyone in the C-bus area:

Check out Mark Losey. Running for Congress in our district against barren, old, political-right-wing-parrot-hag Deb Pryce. Until about 12 minutes ago, I knew nothing about Mark Losey. And already, I know he'll be getting my vote, if for no other reason than a tap-dancing parapalegic chimp could--nay, would--probably do a better job than Pryce. And really:

"Our campaign will prove to all of America that we won't be divided into red and blue compartments so that special interests and the far-right-wing can conquer us."

You had me at "hello," Mark. You had me at "hello."

Deb Pryce and I have had an interesting, love-hate/complain-insult relationship. I sign a great many petitions and write a great many letters to her office, and while she (read: her staffers) always takes the time to reply to me, her comments also always invariably amount to three pages of condescending drivel. They usually boil down to: "Thanks for your concerns and insights. I don't give a shit. I have a party line to walk." Hell, maybe she should use my link below and create a church sign to post in the district, to save us all a lot of time, effort, and postage.

At any rate, any of you who happen to be in the Columbus area and have the unfortunate lot in life of having her as your representative: check out Mark Losey, if for no other reason than the computer you're using to view this page could undoubtedly come up with more original thoughts and ideas than Deb Pryce ever will.

A Good Way to Waste Some Time

Ever wondered what it would look like if a church had a sign that said, "Fuck You, Tom, You Money-Stealing, Sister-Fucking Dickhead" on it?

Wonder no more!

Say hello to the one and only online Church Sign Generator, and say goodbye to your Friday morning productivity!

You've Come a Long Way, Baby!

Last night included one of those moments that always gives me pause. I dialed my cell phone, called my best friend in Baltimore, connected my hands-free cell phone headset, fired up my Playstation 2, popped in MVP Baseball 2005, and proceeded to beat his ass 6-3. Over the Internet. God Bless Al Gore and my Netgear Wireless Router!

We complained about Internet lag, about stopping the pitch meter (with one of the 10 buttons on the controller) in time, and even our cell phones causing audio touble.

Sometimes I have to stop and think back to the formative video game years of my life. Things were different then. We had a joystick, and one button. How did we ever get anything done with one button? Tank Pong, Bump 'N' Jump, and Ms. Pac Man were the order of the day. Of the two baseball games I had as a young child, both involved entire baseball fields filling the screen. In RealSports Baseball 2600, you could hit a ground ball to the left fielder and still be thrown out at first base. Your choices were the red team, or the yellow team. Guys were square-headed herky-jerky blocks. One baseball game (Atari Home Run) didn't even involve fielders!

I just find myself wondering what video games will look like by the time I have kids that are grown up to the age of 28. Will they pine back for the days of Playstation 3 while playing their hand-held virtual reality Playstation 12's? I chuckled, opened the secret cabinet that still has my old Atari 7800 (with 35 games), and wiped the solitary tear from my eye.

Getting old is a bitch.

A Microcosm of the Life of the Cleveland Sports Fan

Many of my friends from other parts of these great United States often ridicule me for choosing (read: being born and socialized by family) to root for the sports teams from the most cursed city of Cleveland. Yet, all of those merry jokesters (like a certain friend of mine who is a Patriots fan) don't really understand what it's like to be a Cleveland fan; they can't comprehend the amount of spirituous beverage needed to still the tooth that gnaws at the soul after watching your team piss away a ninth inning lead in game 7 of the 1997 World Series.

At any rate, for those of you unbaptized into the fraternity of Cleveland Sports Woe, allow me to proselytize...

1) The Cleveland Indians: offensive mascot, no titles in 56 years and counting. Out of the gate, there were high expectations for contention in 2005. As the team compiled a league-worst batting average, hopes began to fade. We were told there was help on the horizon... two-time AL-MVP Juan Gonzalez was healing up from his hamstring injuries. He was coming. He hit .286 during his rehab assignment in AAA. Called up for Tuesday's game, hopes were high. Here was the stabilizing force in the middle of the lineup; everything else would fall into place as the team began to right itself on the offensive side. 434 career home runs, just over 1400 career RBIs. Sure, another player had to be designated for assignment (read: CUT) to make room for him on the roster, but it will be SOOO worth it when he's batting in runs.

So it was in the top of the first inning last night that he had his first at-bat of the season. As he chopped a ball off of home plate, I said to myself, "I wonder how hard he's going to run this out, given the sore hammies and all." The very next sound to come from my TV set:

Rick Manning (announcer): "And there it is... he's hurt again already." Cut to a shot of Gonzalez not even running all the way to first base, peeling off, and limping back to the dugout.

2) The Cleveland Cavaliers: perennial joke, no titles in their 34-year history. Well, in 2003, they won the lottery: LeBron James. The complete player. Two non-playoff performances later, the Cavs are without a coach, a GM, and have an impatient new owner. Enter Larry Brown, rumored to be the new president of basketball operations: the same Larry Brown who refused to play the same LeBron James during the United States' ill-fated run at basketball gold in the 2004 Olympics. So, the rumors begin anew: how soon will LeBron be leaving Cleveland? It would figure that the one STAR this city has on the sports gridiron probably can't wait to get out of town as quickly as possible.

3) The Cleveland Browns: with no titles since 1964, the team was actually moved away to Baltimore in the spring of 1996, only to return in 1999 with quite possibly THE WORST expansion team I've ever seen. After six years with exactly ONE playoff game (a gut-wrenching come-from-ahead loss to the hated Steelers) and the ignominious exit of Butch Davis (who "resigned" to the tune of $12 million--we should all be so lucky), a new regime with a credible general manager and coach brings hope to the faithful. The long-standing problem with this team: no offensive line. So, the first thing the new regime does: bring in two reputable offensive guards. On paper, the team now has a better-than-average offensive line with which to control the line of scrimmage, and pick up those pesky 3rd-and-1's. Alas, it would figure that the two carry-over tackles (by far, the best players on the less-than-mediocre lines of years past) elect to skip June mini-camp in order that their contract demands might be met (demands for what, I ask? Showing up? How can players on THE WORST line in professional football demand more money?).


This, friends, is what it's like to be a Cleveland Fan. Even when things look like they might be on the upswing, good old Isaac Newton reminds us that for every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction. Despite the rant above, the Indians actually won last night to pull back to .500 at 25-25. Just when I think I'm out, THEY PULLLLL ME BACK IN!!!