Today, I offer humble gratitude to George Carter III. His genius will forever guide us. Because of him, there are places where people can go, where the downtrodden can be lifted, where the poor in spirit can find hope, where the losers find worth, where the arrogant are humbled, where the troubled can find solace if even just in 15 minute intervals.
George Carter III is my hero.
George Carter III invented Laser Tag, and tonight, Leah and I, with several of our friends, will salute him in celebration of our collective birth.
Laser Tag is the perfect sport, and if my friends and I could play whenever we wanted, I would play several times a week and I would be in amazing shape. I guarantee it. If I were ever to become filthy rich, I think it's fair to safely say that my two vices would be comic books and Laser Tag. I am a simple man.
After work today, Leah, Harper, and I are going to the animal shelter to check out some dogs. There's one in particular we're interested in. His name is Wolf and he's an Irish Wolfhound mix. He seems bad ass, but we'll see. We're still not decided yet, so we're just going to get info and meet dogs today.
Showing posts with label celebration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label celebration. Show all posts
Friday, February 19, 2010
Thursday, October 15, 2009
A celebration of parents! Vol. II
A bunch of the guys in the office were just trading funny anecdotes about their fathers and how they accidentally punched their dad in the face, ran them over with bikes, etc. I don't think I've ever done any real physical harm to my father but it did remind me of a story.
A while back, I posted this blog about my mother. I figure my dad is past due for his tribute blog.
When I was about 14 or 15 we owned a Chevy Impala and we always parked it on the right side of the garage. I don't remember why I needed to move the car, I guess I was probably going to wash it. Now, I'd backed up the car for this kind of thing dozens of times, so I had no reason to suspect that on this day a little extra care would've gone a long way.
Anyway, as I backed the car up, I turned my head to look behind me and heard the sound of metal scraping and bending. The front end of the Impala is a bit longer than most cars and I had slowly but steadily run into the garage wall. There was a huge dent on the side of the car and a ton of scratches. I remember that enormous "Oh, shit" feeling that every careless child is doomed to feel a thousand times on his way to maturity. Oh, the dread. What would my father say?
Dad wasn't home at the time, but Mom was, so of course she found out pretty quick. I don't really remember what her initial reaction was. Probably because I was so nervous about Dad's reaction and overwhelmed with the shame of the thing. "How could I have been so stupid?" and whatnot.
Well, Dad did inevitably come home and see the car. In my infinite maturity, I avoided him. I didn't say anything about the car or anything else that night if I could avoid it. Mom noticed and reprimanded me in private, "You still haven't said anything to your dad about that car!" And I never did. The next day at breakfast though, there was no avoiding him. We both knew it. We both felt the awkwardness that that kind of boyhood shame creates. What he said to me was this: "Well, son, I think you may need some more driving lessons."
I said, "Yeah...sorry about that."
He chuckled.
And that was it. I know he was put out, or frustrated, maybe even angry. How could he not be? But where his sons are concerned, I doubt you could find another man in this entire world who is as selfless. I think he knew how ashamed I was, and it was more important to him to ease my anxiety, than it was to let out his own frustrations. My dad has faults like everyone else, but selfishness isn't one of them. The man has character.
I hope I remember this story the first time Harper messes up.
A while back, I posted this blog about my mother. I figure my dad is past due for his tribute blog.
When I was about 14 or 15 we owned a Chevy Impala and we always parked it on the right side of the garage. I don't remember why I needed to move the car, I guess I was probably going to wash it. Now, I'd backed up the car for this kind of thing dozens of times, so I had no reason to suspect that on this day a little extra care would've gone a long way.
Anyway, as I backed the car up, I turned my head to look behind me and heard the sound of metal scraping and bending. The front end of the Impala is a bit longer than most cars and I had slowly but steadily run into the garage wall. There was a huge dent on the side of the car and a ton of scratches. I remember that enormous "Oh, shit" feeling that every careless child is doomed to feel a thousand times on his way to maturity. Oh, the dread. What would my father say?
Dad wasn't home at the time, but Mom was, so of course she found out pretty quick. I don't really remember what her initial reaction was. Probably because I was so nervous about Dad's reaction and overwhelmed with the shame of the thing. "How could I have been so stupid?" and whatnot.
Well, Dad did inevitably come home and see the car. In my infinite maturity, I avoided him. I didn't say anything about the car or anything else that night if I could avoid it. Mom noticed and reprimanded me in private, "You still haven't said anything to your dad about that car!" And I never did. The next day at breakfast though, there was no avoiding him. We both knew it. We both felt the awkwardness that that kind of boyhood shame creates. What he said to me was this: "Well, son, I think you may need some more driving lessons."
I said, "Yeah...sorry about that."
He chuckled.
And that was it. I know he was put out, or frustrated, maybe even angry. How could he not be? But where his sons are concerned, I doubt you could find another man in this entire world who is as selfless. I think he knew how ashamed I was, and it was more important to him to ease my anxiety, than it was to let out his own frustrations. My dad has faults like everyone else, but selfishness isn't one of them. The man has character.
I hope I remember this story the first time Harper messes up.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
A celebration of mewithoutYou
Yesterday, as I was driving home from work I was listening to one of my favorite bands, mewithoutYou, and I had an idea for what I want this blog to be. That idea is, "a celebration of life and all the things that make it worthwhile." So periodically, I'd like to take one thing that I love and try to communicate why I love it as I did with Philip Seymour Hoffman in my last post.
Me Without You has a new record coming out and its produced by the unlikely Daniel Smith of Danielson Family fame. I read a little of the press for the record and it seems that singer Aaron Weiss has given up his normal M.O. of talk-yelling for full time singing on this one. Honestly, that kind of scares me because that's one of the things that I think sets MWY apart. However, I want to say that I have nothing but high hopes for this record, and I believe in this band. And by that I mean that I think that they are genuine, and honest artists, and genuine, honest artists tend to consistently make genuine, honest art. (I know that I don't actually know them and there is an inherent level of BS when you try to judge a person by their art alone.)
I don't want to belittle their music because its fantastic and epic in all the right places, but I don't think its any secret that their most notable strength is in Aaron's "stream of consciousness" lyrics. While said lyrics are unabashedly Christian, and I am not, the truth is that great lyrics are great lyrics. He's introspective as hell and never overly preachy. Here are some of my favorite pieces:
"My exit, unobserved, my homesickness, absurd,I said 'Water,' expecting the word would satisfy my thirst!Talking all about the second and third when I haven't understood the first." - from My Exit, Unfair
"Why pluck one string?
What good is just one note?
Oh, one string sounds fine I guess, and we were once 'one notes'.
We were lonely wheat, quietly ground into grain (What light and momentary pain!)
So why this safe distance, this curious look?
Why tear out single pages when you can throw away the book?
Why pluck one string when you can strum the guitar?" - from Torches Together
"You were a song I couldn't sing, caught like a bear by the bees with its hand in the hive
who complains of the pain of the sting when I'm lucky I got out alive!
A life at best left half behind, the taste of the honey still sweet on my tongue, and I'd run (Lord knows I've tried) but there's no place on Earth I can hide from the wrong I've done." - from Nice & Blue pt. 2
"She was grace and green as a stem,
but I walk heavy on delicate ground
(...There I go showing off again, self impressed by how well I can put myself down!!
and there I go again, to the next further removed level of that same exact feigned humility!!!)
[this for me goes on and on to the point of nausea]
Shadow am I!
Like suspicion that's never confirmed but it's never denied.
Wolf am I!
(No, "shadow" I think is better,as I'm not something, more like the absence of something)" - from Wolf Am I
"I half-heartedly explained but gave up peacefully ashamed as a glass can only spill what it contains.
We went to Portugal and Spain and in her mind the entire time it rained!
A glass can only spill what it contains.
What new mystery is this?
In overflowing emptiness, the Invisible is seen among the shadows and the mist.
Before my doubting eyes the Infinite appears in time-the Unquestionable is questioned but makes no reply!" - from A Glass Can Only Spill What It Contains
And lets not forget that the first time I saw them live, they blew my effing head off.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
A celebration
The wife and I watched the movie "Doubt" last night. When we first saw previews for this movie, I was excited because the cast is great (Philip S. Hoffman, Amy Adams, Meryl Streep), and the story looked intense. However, around the time the movie released we heard the spoiler that you never find out if the priest is guilty and there's really no closure to the story, just doubt, so it is aptly named. When I heard this, I decided not to see it because nothing annoys me more than art house bullshit where some pretentious director decides to waste 2 hours of your life.
Anyway, Leah rented it from one of those kiosks at Walgreens yesterday and I ended up watching it anyway, and I'm glad I did. Streep and Adams were both as good as they normally are (which is to say very good), but I would have to say that Hoffman stood out to me.
So that's what this post is about. Watching "Doubt" made me realize that more people should celebrate Philip Seymour Hoffman as one of the greatest actors of, certainly, his generation and, most probably, all time. He is as effortless in comedy as he is in drama and his career is full of films that are both socially important as well as blockbuster successes. Here is a list of my top 5 favorite P. S. Hoffman performances:
1. Capote - Truman Capote
2. Magnolia - Phil Parma
3. The Big Lebowski - Brandt
4. Almost Famous - Lester Bangs
5. Boogie Nights - Scotty J.
Anyway, Leah rented it from one of those kiosks at Walgreens yesterday and I ended up watching it anyway, and I'm glad I did. Streep and Adams were both as good as they normally are (which is to say very good), but I would have to say that Hoffman stood out to me.
So that's what this post is about. Watching "Doubt" made me realize that more people should celebrate Philip Seymour Hoffman as one of the greatest actors of, certainly, his generation and, most probably, all time. He is as effortless in comedy as he is in drama and his career is full of films that are both socially important as well as blockbuster successes. Here is a list of my top 5 favorite P. S. Hoffman performances:
1. Capote - Truman Capote
2. Magnolia - Phil Parma
3. The Big Lebowski - Brandt
4. Almost Famous - Lester Bangs
5. Boogie Nights - Scotty J.
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