Postcards from the Patio

Just a quick update from my patio at about 6:00 in the evening.

W.F.K. is making his rounds. He's passed by twice, sporting a hard to miss white shirt with light, bright blue stripes (fashion note for whatever parents (assuming there is one, as I still have seen no evidence) buys his clothes - stripes are not thinning on the less-than-svelte), and this last round he's appeared with a stick (I'm trying to figure out if he picks up a stick randomly or if he has it timed out to a certain rotation around the complex) that he's lazily swinging at plants as he passes.

College Girl With Issues is home, as is, clearly, her boyfriend. I know this because they have the windows all wide open and are partaking in very loud, moany carnal knowledge for all to hear. Which, I assume, all are, as it's six in the evening and other neighbors are getting home, walking by my patio with their just-retrieved mail from their boxes on their way to their apartments. Haven't noticed if anyone's actually looked up at CGWI's window yet. Oh, and along with overly-dramatic love sounds is the occasional and seemingly perturbed barking of the puppy that she has up there - even though pets aren't allowed in the complex. She lives on the edge, that girl. It's moments like this that I wish she'd come down and complain about my cigar smoke creeping into her open window. I wouldn't say anything back to her, wouldn't lodge my own counter-complaints about the gunfire and explosions from the movie they were watching, blaring out their open window last night at 3:00am while I was out here trying to write (who leaves their windows open when it's 43 degrees outside? In California, at least), or the fighting spells that I've come to refer to as White Trash Theater, or the high-volume cell phone calls she makes walking around the complex in the darkest hours of the night. No, I wish she would do so so I could do just like the kid who played the younger Forrest Gump in the movie, in the scene where the school principal is leaving the Gump house after getting his "bribe" from Forrest's mama, still pulling up his suspenders as he's stepping out. I'd just like to let her finish saying her piece, then turn my head toward her, stare blankly at her, and start precisely miming her own sex sounds at her.

"Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!"

I think that'd be funnier.

Ah, they seemed to have now finished with the only glue that holds their sad, co-dependent relationship together, so I shall return to my work. That is, unless Upstairs Opens His Windows Guy decides 63 degrees warrants sliding open his patio door and having issues with my rising stogie smoke again. Wouldn't want him having to complain to No Social Skills Drunk Landlady on me.

SacTown Summer Movie Nights 2009!

It's the moooost...won-der-ful tiiiiime...of the yeeeeeaaarr...

At least for us SacTown movie fans! Yes, our season is back! The summer movies start dropping this weekend, and we've got a whole summer of Hollywood block(or crap)busters and indie gems ahead of us. So it's time to lock and load and get the band back together, 'cause it is ON.

For those of you new to the experience, I started this event last year, during what some were calling the biggest summer movie season ever. I did a list of all the big summer movies to come, and then used this blog to announce gang movie nights - the when and where info on whatever film we'd be gathering for on any particular weekend. And it was a smashing success! Obviously, with so many movies to see, and with people having tight schedules and limited entertainment funds, not everyone made every single film, but that was the nice part of this. You could pick and choose which ones you felt like seeing (and which ones you felt warranted theater viewing and wouldn't be best left for DVD later), and be able to know you'd at least have a couple other people to go see them with. We had great time, not just catching the flicks, but having an opportunity to get together and hang out, always a rare thing with everyone's hectic lives.

So it begins anew, and here's how it goes. I'm going to list a bunch of the upcoming season's flicks, with their release dates. Note that some may have the same date, of course, but we're not necessarily going to see each film on its opening night, either. As this is my blog, I'll naturally be listing a lot of the films that I'm interested in, so since I don't have kids, chances are you won't see any of the big animated or otherwise kid-centered ones here (for that, you must arrange your own playdates). After that, keep watching for announcements on this blog (assuming you're in the Sacramento area) for which shows an event is being put together for. You'll see the theater and time. And you can then, if you please, choose to join us. And note: I will continue to suggest people make use of Fandango to buy their tickets in advance. There's nothing more depressing than showing up to get a ticket and finding out you can't get inside to join your pals. Plan ahead!

So let's see what the summer of 2009 has to offer us! Links on the titles will take you to trailers for each film.

05/01/09 - X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

Hey, what to do you know? Another super-hero movie! After the performance of last summer's "Dark Knight" and "Iron Man" films, Hollywood is going to keep cranking these out for a while. Hugh Jackman reprises his role as Wolverine from the "X-Men" films in the first (and maybe last, depending on how it performs) spin-off from that franchise. This one's already got controversy surrounding it, as a work print of the film got swiped and made its way onto the internet a month before the premiere - a BIG deal that's got the FBI involved and everything. Let's see if Jackman can bring the claw-popping magic back, with the help of co-stars Liev Schreiber and Ryan Reynolds. Hot mutant big-budget action, baby!

05/08/09 - Star Trek

This is THE big one of the summer. With a trailer that's blown people away for months, this J.J. Abrams-directed prequel/reboot/re-imagining has fans and critics psyched. Looking in on the first adventure of the young original Trek crew, the film has relative unknown Chris Pine playing Kirk, but it's the rest of the cast playing the familiar sci-fi icons that has most of us drooling - people like John Cho ("Harold and Kumar"), Simon Pegg ("Shaun of the Dead"), Zachary Quinto ("Heroes"), Karl Urban ("Lord of the Rings"), and some big-name stars in other roles (Winona Ryder, Ben Cross, Bruce Greenwood and Eric Bana). It looks like a sure-win, with mind-blowing effects, riveting action and plenty of laughs. Old-school Trek-heads may gripe about this film messing with the sacred franchise, but you can bet that they'll be right there with us to see if it pulls off its promise. NOTE: If you're as anti-spoiler about this movie as I am, I'd just skip viewing the trailer and save some surprises for the film.

05/15/09 - Angels & Demons

This is an interesting concept - a sequel to the big-box-office "The Da Vinci Code", the questionably-reviewed film adaptation of one of the best-selling novels of all time, but one that's based on a book that was actually a prequel to Da Vinci. Ah, that wacky Hollywood. Tom Hanks and Ron Howard return to give the paranoid theological world of Dan Brown another try, so we'll see if they have better luck this time around.

05/15/09 - The Brothers Bloom

Already a critical darling, this off-beat action-comedy about two brother con men pulling one last big score stars Adrien Brody, Mark Ruffalo, Rachel Weisz, Rinko Kikuchi and Robbie Coltrane. The world-hopping swindling fantasy looks like one of the most original films to come out in some time and might be a nice break from all the gunfire and explosions. Except, of course, that it appears to be filled with gunfire and explosions...

05/21/09 - Terminator: Salvation

Like the Terminator himself, this franchise refuses to die. The end of the world is back, with this installment taking us into the future to see the exploits of the heroic John Connor, and finally showing us the war between man and machine that we've heard so much about. With the interesting director choice of McG (of "Charlie's Angels" fame), the film stars box-office-platinum Christian "Done with you professionally" Bale, Bryce Dallas Howard, Helena Bonham Carter and Michael Ironside, and promises a special effects bonanza of futuristic action. Guaranteed to be one if the loudest films of the summer (the actual winner of that crown is still to come on this list), it will be a hell of a sight to see, whether or not McG can pull it off.

05/29/09 - Drag Me To Hell

Let's see...so far we have action, sci-fi, comedy...what's missing? Why, a hell of a lot of horror, of course! And horror fans have reason to cheer, because the amazing Sam Raimi ("Evil Dead 1 & 2", "Army of Darkness") has left his kid-friendly "Spider-Man" films behind for a moment and gone back to his horrific roots. Starring Allison Lohman and Justin Long (in a rare non-comedic role, so good for him), along with a supporting role by the great David Paymer, this seems to revolve around a bank employee denying a home loan extension to the WRONG crazy-ass old lady, and a curse - and lots of horrific consequences - follow. Looks scary, and who doesn't like a little scare in their summer? Ones that don't involve aging fat men in tiny speedos at the beach, that is...

06/05/09 - The Hangover

Three groomsmen-to-be wake up in their suite in Vegas the night after the bachelor party - with no memory of what happened the night before, no idea why their suite is trashed, and no idea where the groom is. Or why there's a baby in the closet. The only reasons why this one is a "maybe" for me is 1) it stars Bradley Cooper, who you might remember as the jerk fiance from "Wedding Crashers" but whom I'm a fan of from the TV shows "Alias" and "Kitchen Confidential", 2) it's from the director of "Old School", 3) Heather Graham's in it and 4) Mike Tyson's in it (as himself) and is seen rocking out to the drum solo from Phil Collins' "In The Air Tonight". Will wait for reviews, but it's a "maybe"...

06/05/09 - Land of the Lost

Yes, yes, you groan, and probably with cause, at the thought of another Will Ferrell comedy. You may be right. Or, like those of us who grew up watching the thrilling (to us...because we were, like, six years old) "Land of the Lost" TV show from Sid & Marty Krofft, you might be thinking about it. A bonus is that it has Danny McBride in it, who stole the film "Pineapple Express" (not as easy thing to do in a Seth Rogen film). Filled with prehistoric special effects and commendable dialogue like "Matt Lauer can suck it!!", it could be just the light-hearted summer escapism you're looking for. Or...it could really blow. Check that Tomatometer as the date approaches, kids!

06/12/09 - The Taking of Pelham 123

For those of who haven't seen a John Travolta character take hostages in a couple weeks or so, your wait is over. Every summer needs a Tony Scott film, and Mr. Scott is dealing us a fresh helping of action-suspense, pulling in his usual helping of big-name Hollywood talent (Travolta, Denzel Washington, John Turturo, James (needs this to help get "Tony Soprano" behind him) Gandofini...and my biggest draw, the incomparable Luiz Gusman (look him up...you'll recognize him from many films you've seen)). Written by Brian Helgeland ("L.A. Confidential, "Mystic River", "Man on Fire"), this edge-of-yer-seater deals with a group taking hostages aboard a New York subway train, with subway controller Denzel trying to save the day. Let's just hope it doesn't give us the Tony Scott Ending (tm). (That joke was for a handful of people I know who'll get it...).

06/19/09 - Year One

Do I really have to say more than "Jack Black" and "Michael Cera"? Seriously, you put these two in a film about a couple of prehistoric slackers who get banned from their questing-for-fire tribe and get into all manner of wackiness in the ancient world...what else do you need to know? How 'bout that it's directed by Harold Ramis, produced by Judd Apatow, and features David Cross as Cain, Paul Rudd as Abel, and Hank Azaria as Abraham? The trailer looks like lots of win to me. I'd down for some over-the-top Old Testament humor. You?

6/24/09 - Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

Yeah, I feel kind of bad for this film. You know it's just not going to make ANY money this summer... (WARNING: Sarcasm levels rising!) Director Michael Bay returns with the sequel to the mega-blockbuster hit, and with a budget even CLOSER to matching the President's stimulus package. The whole gang appears to be back, including stars Shia LaBeouf and Megan Fox's navel. Even with all the sci-fi actioners we've seen listed already, I guarantee you this will be the LOUDEST film of the summer. Spectacles like this were what summer movies were invented for. If you miss this in the theater, you'll be mocked later, will be sad and cry. And with Michael Bay as the director, I can also guarantee you this (putting on my best trailer-announcer voice): Stuff...will...fly...at...the...camera!

7/1/09 - Public Enemies

I wonder what happens when you put, arguably, the two biggest box office draws on EARTH in the same movie and release it in the middle of summer? Guess we'll find out this July, when Johnny Depp and Christian Bale pair up for the based-on-a-true-story tale of John Dillinger, directed by none other than Michael "Heat" Mann. With a very impressive supporting cast that includes Billy Crudup, Leelee Sobieski, Giovanni Ribisi, Stephen Dorff, Rory Cochrane and Lili Taylor, this period shoot-em-up promises to sparkle with the patented Michael Mann style. Kind of a Miami Vice for the prohibition era, if you will... If I were you, I'd "Mann" up and be there.

7/15/09 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

For those of you who generally suspect me as a giant nerd, allow me this defense - I have never read a "Harry Potter" book, nor have I seen a "Harry Potter" movie. This, of course, makes up for the seven seasons of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and eight seasons of "Star Trek: TNG" on my DVD shelf, and the "Serenity" poster framed on my living room wall... I have totally missed the boat on this franchise, but it would, of course, be completely disingenuous to leave the latest (is this the last? I don't even know) "Harry Potter" extravaganza off this summer's list...as I knew too many fanatics, from children to their parents, who've been waiting for a very long time for it to arrive. You'll probably have to see this one without me (unless by some strange turn of events I watch all the other Potter films in the next couple of months), but if the trailer's any indication, you will walk out of it with your jaw stuck in "dropped" position for at least a fortnight.

7/31/09 - Funny People

Did somebody say Judd Apatow? My film hero has produced and co-written too many films to mention in the past several years, but this one is only his third written-and-directed one (the others being "40-Year-Old Virgin" and "Knocked Up"), and, no surprise, it stars Seth Rogen again. However, its other star is Adam Sandler, who plays a famous comedian who finds out he's not long for this world, thanks to an unexpected cancer diagnosis. Rogen plays an up-and-coming comedian who ends up befriending him. Despite its title and its stars, this is meant to be a more serious film. Apatow says, "I'm trying to make a very serious movie that is twice as funny as my other movies. Wish me luck!". The film also stars Apatow's brilliantly funny wife, Leslie Mann, along with his two young daughters, who proved ridiculously hilarious in their performances in "Knocked Up". I've put the link to the trailer up there, but you know what? I'm going to advise you not to watch it. It's one of those trailers, in my opinion, that tells you way too much about the film (it seems to kind of summarize the whole story from start to finish). I say trust the Apatow and just go with me and check it out. You can blame me if it sucks.

8/7/09 - G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra

Wow. Could this EVER go either way... You might have seen the teaser for this one during the Super Bowl, and noticed that every woman in the room went "Huh?" while every guy threw his arms up and screamed "Yeeahhhh!!". If you're from my generation, and you're a dude, you just HAVE to know. And knowing is, after all, half the battle... Directed Stephen Sommers of "The Mummy" fame, this film stars...well, a bunch of people we don't really know, but some notables (for me, at least) like Dennis Quaid, Rachel Nichols (mmmm...Alias season fiiiiive....), Jonathan Pryce, Ray "Darth Maul" Park and (shudder) Marlon Wayans. After the ridiculous success of the Transformers movie, Hasbro and Paramount team up again to bring another animated-show-designed-just-to-sell-action-figures to the big screen twenty years after it was popular. Seems to have worked so far. Prepare for the "Transformers" formula, and expect lots of guns, completely overdone CGI, national monuments around the world crumbling, and stuff...flying...at...the...camera!

8/21/09 - Inglorious Basterds

First off, no, you don't get any Typo Contest points here for that title above. That's the official way it's spelled in this film's name. Us big-time fans of Quinten Tarantino have waited juuuust about a decade for this...Q's much-rumored but not-much-made World War II film. Having gotten his Bill-Killing and House-Grinding out of his system, he's finally gotten around to this tale of a group of Jewish U.S. soldiers put together to engage in open acts of retribution against the Nazis. Beyond Brad Pitt - who plays the lieutenant who puts the team together - you probably won't recognize many (if any) of the names in this cast (but "Freaks and Geeks" fans will Freak over seeing Samm "Neal Schweiber" Levine as one of the soldiers), but maybe that's a good thing. While I'm all over this movie, I'm also more than a little nervous. Tarantino is a very different filmmaker than he was ten years ago. His work has fallen into (unapologetic) campsploitation of late. Will this taint what could be his comeback film as a "real" filmmaker again...or will it be another drive-in level indulgence that cements that as his final place in film history? I'll be there to find out.

8/28/09 - The Boat That Rocked

This, to me, is the perfect way to end the summer season. After months of robots and cyborgs and mutants and Nazis and dinosaurs and angels and demons, I'd like to decompress with a film that makes me laugh, makes me cheer, and makes me think. And I think this will be the one. Set in 1966, the British comedy - written and directed by "Four Weddings and Funeral" scribe Richard Curtis - tells the story of an illegal pirate radio station that broadcast rock-n-roll music into Britain from a boat out in the North Sea (this is not a directly "true" story, but based on an amalgam of pirate radio stations of the era, specifically on the pirate radio ship Radio Caroline). The biggest draw to me is that it stars my favorite modern actor, Philip Seymour Hoffman, as the American DJ amongst the Brits, but the fact that it's also got Bill Nighy, Nick Frost and Kenneth Branagh. Sure, it looks like your typical "screw the man, rock-n-roll will save the world" standard, but it looks like it's done with a lot of style, a lot of fun, and a hell of a lot of great music. I'm on it. You?

And THAT, ladies and gents, ends my summer movie list. Did you see some missing? Perhaps a romantic comedy or powerful-looking drama? Apologies. The SacTown Movie Gang is largely made up of DUDES, so the interests are going to run that way. And while many of these same dudes are fans of more cerebral cinema and enjoy the occasional foreign existential piece, that's not what they're looking for 1) in the theaters 2) during the summer. Summer movies are about EVENT - about movie hype, big budgets, cheering crowds and shameless sequels! So while there are a couple of variations there, this summer, like last summer, will be largely about us feeding the studio monster. And having a great time doing it.

So if you want to share in that good time with us, stay tuned here for all the details! Let the summer fun begin!

And let stuff...

Fly...

At...

The...

CAMERA!

Can we all just get a clue?

For reasons I won't go into (they would just confuse you), I was on IMDb (that would be the Internet Movie Database for you non-film-nerds) looking up some info on the 1994 film "Airheads". As I was scanning for my bit of intel I sought (okay, I was looking for piece of info to help me complete a bad joke about the death of poor Bea Arthur I was posting on a message board. Satisfied? I'm ashamed), I happened to see the title of a discussion thread about the film. I thought the title was a joke. I found out it was not. And I felt old. And kind of speechless.

The set-up: if you haven't seen "Airheads" (Brendan Frasier, Steve Buscemi, Adam Sandler, Michael Richards, Chris Farley, and Amy Locane in fishnets? What are you waiting for?!), it revolves around this wanna-be rock band that ends up taking over a radio station in an attempt to get their song played. A huge crowd of supportive rockers gathers outside, being kept back by police. In an effort to get the police to turn the lights back on, the lead singer (Frasier) incites the crowd by starting the chant, "Rod-ney King! Rod-ney King!".

And here's the thread (in part):

---------------------------------------

Subject: Who's Rodney King?

By sanja 86
Didn't quite get that part.Can anyone explain?

By Comic Lover
he was a black man, who has beaten by the police in the early 90s, i guess it stirred up some controversy cuz the cops were pretty brutal, it was across the street from the biker bar in terminator 2

By Myers4892
didnt know rodney king was beaten across the street from the biker bar in T2. you learn somethin new everyday.

By Cryonaut
Basically the 90's version of "Attica." As for the line itself, I had no clue who Rodney King was and I thought they were talking about Don King. I was scratching my head for a bit.

by lisabaum8
Rodney King is on Celebrity Rehab 2

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I just...

I just...

...

I'm going to bed now.

Night Owl

My days and nights are a bit turned around. Kind of an understatement. I've slipped into a deal where I'm going to sleep between 4:00am and 6:00am...sometimes later. I'm okay with that. This is actually what my body has always preferred. I used to be like this in college. And even while I was working, as soon as the weekends came around, I'd be back to staying up all night. It wasn't until the last few months of my now-previous job that my body went normal on me, and even though I'd still be up late (not this late, but late), I'd still be getting up around 6:30am, and my body wouldn't let me sleep much past 8:00am even on the weekends. That's all reversed again. I think I'm still trying to deal with that.

The problem has been that it's made me unproductive. My recent heart issues aside, the ones that kept me in bed a lot, the problem was that my mind couldn't catch up to what my body was doing. I'd feel the "I need to go to bed so I can get up early and be productive" guilt, so any work I was doing--writing, whatever--would stop around midnight or 1:00am and I'd start "winding down". This would involve convincing myself I was on my way to bed, but it would usually result in distractions or busywork that will still keep me from sleep until sometime before sunrise.

Now feeling a bit better on the heart front (fingers crossed) and wanting to produce more again, I'm trying to embrace the night owl within and get things done late night. It's a good time for it. Fewer distractions, more quiet. And, best of all, the weather has finally gotten more spring-like so it's much easier and more pleasurable to be out on my patio in the dark of night, either writing or reading on my laptop. I prefer the patio seat for the less-distraction reason, too. I'm more focused out here.

Usually.

You would think a fellow could expect to come outside on a Thursday night at 2:30 in the morning and expect a little peace and quiet, right?

Enter College-Girl-With-Issues.

She's a relatively new neighbor. She lives one building over, across the pool from me, and upstairs. I started seeing her and her friends and her boyfriend out on her balcony, which is how I knew I had new neighbors. That was cool. As I've said before, I live in pretty middle-aged complex, so it's nice to see a little youth around to mix things up. I don't mind the occasional loud party or gaggle of college folk walking by, yammering loudly, on their way to her place. Reminds me of college time, and that's always a good thing.

However, the problem has now become that she seems to keep the same hours I do.

And she has issues.

Ones she apparently doesn't mind advertising.

Case in point - tonight. I got out here around 2:00am, ready to get a little something done. A little reading is what I wanted to start with. And I did. And then I heard a car pull up. She and her boyfriend came walking by. Okay, fine. But within minutes of getting in the door, she was back outside. On her cell phone. Bitching. Loudly. And walking back and forth around this side of the complex as she did so.

So since I gave up trying to concentrate, I figured I'd just write a few words about her, as she seems to want to want to be my inspiration.

Fact: She's mad at her father. She's making this clear to whoever she's talking to. She puts up with his crap because she's "daddy's girl" and that's what's expected of her. Daddy just doesn't understand. Daddy also seems to be paying her bills.

Fact: She works at Leatherby's Ice Cream. Daddy thinks she was only able to get that job because her friends working there got it for her. Which sounds like it's the case.

Fact: Daddy doesn't like her boyfriend. This is interesting that this is problem for her, because from what I've heard (and I've heard it several times, coming from her place), she doesn't seem to thrilled with her boyfriend either. I've heard them fighting before. In one particular drunken yelling match that involved things being knocked over, she threatened to call the cops on him, and he said to go ahead, because she's the one with the DUI, so she'd be the one to get in trouble. And for some reason, she seemed to have believed this. I've heard her crying outside on her steps. And I've been saddened at the fact that I've lost all sympathy over the years for girls in situations like that, because every time I've tried to help in some way (once calling the cops when a couple upstairs was getting physical), I've ended up getting screwed over for it, and I've ended up being the bad guy in the girl's eyes, and the girl has remained with the guy. She's with an obnoxious, loud moron, and, psychological analysis side, she is because she chooses to be. It bothers me that I've become this jaded about something I was once sympathetic about.

Fact: Her boyfriend is living there with her paying all the bills. Color me shocked.

Fact: Her phone call ended and she went back inside to her boyfriend, and they began fighting again. With the windows open. She used the words "Why don't you just leave, then?", and the answer is obvious. He won't, because he knows it's an empty implied threat. He also appears to not like her father. Who's paying the bills at the apartment where he's freeloading.

Fact: The fighting seems to have gone quiet, so unless the sounds of desperate make-up sex begin sounding across the pool, I'm going to try to go back to reading now.

Fact: I'm getting old, aren't I?

Random Memory Theater, Part 2: The Sucker Punch

Understand something right off - my sister and I have a great relationship. I don't think we've had an unkind or angry word to say to each other since about the mid-80s. We have all the same interests, get along great, no issues whatsoever.

That being said...we did used to be kids.

And while my sister is only a year and eight days older than me, that still qualifies her as a "big sister". And big sisters have a time-honored responsibility - and that is to torture and abuse their younger brothers. It's nothing personal. It's just goes with the job.

It was the summer of 1977, which would have made me still nine years old, and my sister, then, ten. It was the summer that Star Wars was conquering the world. The summer that Elvis may or may not have died, depending on whether you believed the news or your crazy Enquirer-reading aunt. And it was the summer when the President Carter economy meant that my family was living in a tiny little trailer parked on the grass in a family friend's front yard, out in the country-living area of Pilot Hill, California. We were the kind of poor that involves dirt. But you tend not to notice or care about that kind of stuff when you're a kid. If you've really nothing else to compare your experience to (we'd really never been middle class, at least not when I was old enough to notice, and I certainly had no well-off friends to measure my family life against), then it's just life as you know it, and you go on being a kid.

Now my memory certainly isn't as great as it used to be, which may be why this particular memory starts in the middle. I have no idea, for example, what started the fight between my sister, Shelley, and I. I have no idea what led to place where the memory begins. But it picks up right at a point where I'm in our little welfare trailer, and I'm crying, and I'm trying to take weak swings at my sister. My sister, the first visual in this memory, is standing in front of and a little ways back from me, laughing, and has her arm outstretched, with her hand planted firmly on my head, easily holding me back from punching range. This was a time when I was still walking, not needing the wheelchair full-time, but my muscles were already weak. So holding me back was not only easy for her, but seemed to be amusing her to no end. Clearly, this was not a fight I was in any way winning.

So I'm swinging with all that I have, to no avail. She has a vice grip on my head, and I'm not getting anywhere close to her. I'm getting more and more frustrated and more weepy in my helplessness, wanting to avenge myself for whatever slight or abuse had led to this (your guess is as good as mine, and for all I know, I could have been the one in the wrong and said or done something to deserve this), but clearly having no chance. This was classic little brother torture, the breaking of the spirit, with the omnipresent taunting laughter to add that extra helping of humiliation. Think of it as kind of the liquid-free waterboarding of youth.

I had not the strength, nor the age, nor the reach, to affect my plight in any way.

But I think we've all heard a story about a guy named David and a bully named Goliath...

I catch something out of the corner of my eye, and it's the sight of our dog, Jake, roaming by outside, oblivious to whatever we're up to and busy looking for some of his own expended feces to eat. There's no moment of clear decision, no hesitation...inspiration just strikes me from nowhere and I go with it.

I stop fighting against her grip, stop crying, and suddenly start laughing hysterically as I look through the screen door. "Look at Jake!" I say, loudly, through my seemingly uncontrollable laughter. All these things are meant to convey one thing - that our dog, outside, is doing something absolutely hilarious, something so delightful and unprecedented that it makes me forget completely about everything else. In reality, Jake is standing there, lazily sniffing at some dying grass and too wiped out from the intense northern California summer heat to feel like moving much at all. But she has no way of verifying that, of course, unless she...

Taking, in order, hook, line and sinker, she forgets her abuse and the amusement it's bringing to her, and her grip on my head falters as she turns her own head toward the door, toward the promise of an even greater laugh on this sweltering summer day.

Bingo.

I don't hesitate once I see my opening. The hand that was pushing me down is slack, and is easily sloughed off. Her attention is completely diverted. I ball my fist, pull back, and swing with everything I have.

Pow.

Let's remember, of course, that we're talking about a guy with skinny little Muscular Dystrophy arms with little in the way of strength in them (plus...I'm nine...). But there's always extra points awarded for the unexpected. I hit my sister right in the mouth.

She jerks back, stunned. She has no idea, for the moment, what's just happened. Her eyes are wide and confused. Her hand goes up to her face, feeling at the (I'm hoping) numbed yet throbbing area of impact. Her fingers slip between her lips. And when she pulls them out? There's a wee bit of blood on them.

Me...Rocky. Her...Mr. T. Crowd...goes wild.

Well, at least she goes wild. Suddenly, the shock wears off, and she's realized what's just gone down. And I'm sure I'm probably just grinning like an idiot beneath my quickly-drying eyes. This is more than just getting a punch in. I've outsmarted her. I've played her like a fool, and she'd fallen for it like a rube. I'm victorious in a way that, like the punch, she'd never seen coming. And all at once, her eyes grow even wider, and nearly turn red with rage as they lock on me.

"I'm bleeding!" I hear her bellow, now completely flummoxed and screaming crazy over this unexplainable turn of the tide, and she starts hammering down on the top of my head (since I've ducked and am leaning over) with the bottoms over her fists, one blow after the next. I don't feel them. I barely hear the words she continues to scream. Because all I'm hearing is my own triumphant laughter. Nothing she could do now could change the reality of what has happened. I've won the day. The tortoise has punked the hare. Frodo has hornswoggled Sauron. And other metaphors as well.

There is another truism of sibling living, and that is that as much as you seem to be against each other most of the time, it is always us versus them when it comes to the grown-ups and staying out of trouble. My memory starts to fade, again, after the jackhammering of my head and my laughter (maybe the jackhammering is the reason for the fading...), but I do recall that quickly after, our argument was forgotten, and my sister's full focus was on laying out the plan for what we'd tell our mother if she noticed any swelling in my sister's lip. It had something to do with her walking into an open door, or something like that. But she, the plan-maker, spun the alibi and made sure I knew my lines, and that no evidence of our epic battle would lead to any grounding or reduction of TV time (because missing the Bionic Woman or Three's Company was an unthinkable punishment). She was good, sure. But not as good, apparently, as her seemingly helpless little brother, who suddenly was no longer the mouse to her paw-batting cat. She would have to think twice, from now on, about whether it was worth exercising her firstborn superiority and God-given hazing rights to amuse herself. In that one moment, I, and our relationship, had changed forever.

Fortunately, we soon grew up, and turned into people, not the wind-up engines of chaos and id called children. My big sister soon became my guardian and bodyguard as we moved further out into the real world of school, friends and other terrors - even though most of the time the humiliation of having a sister-protector seemed worse than whatever she might be trying to protect me from. Being so close in age, we moved in the same circles, had many of the same friends, and kept similar interests as the years went by (please note not to bother us after the presents are open on Christmas Day, as the Star Wars Trilogy viewing will be underway, regardless of the fact that we're now middle-aged). Fights turned to disagreements, disagreements gave way to understanding, understanding to support and empathy. If you're lucky, that's the same pattern your own sibling relationship has followed.

If not, and you've still got issues with an older brother or sister lingering to this day?

I'm just saying...the sucker punch gets the job done. Don't cross it off your list too fast. If you're in your thirties of forties? Then they really won't see it coming...

And teh winnnir iz...

I can now announce (as I was waiting until the winner got home from vacation and got his prize in the mail) that the official winner of the 2008 Great Typo Contest is...Martin Maenza!!

For those who did not know this, I started a contest on 4/6/2008, announced here on this blog, that would reward people for telling me how retarded I am. Frankly, I was just sick of going back and looking at something I'd written online, weeks later, and suddenly noticing a typo that I'd missed. So I decided to get some backup from people I knew...and make it worth their while, if they did it best.

The contest closed on 4/6/2009, and my pal Martin squeaked out the win (it was close!) by finding the most typos during that one-year period. As I'd said originally, the prize for the winner was going to be something personalized. So as I know Martin has recently picked up the whole run of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" on DVD (though we're on opposite sides of the country, I'm re-watching the eps along with him (though it's not a re-watch for him, as this is his first time through) and trading reviews with him), his prize for the big win ended up being the first two graphic novels in the "Buffy: Season 8" series written by Joss Whedeon (and other series writers). He, of course, will have to wait to crack them until he's done with the first seven seasons of the TV stuff, but at the rate he's going, I don't think it'll be that long of a wait.

So I do hope you (eventually) enjoy them, Martin, and thanks again, my friend, for your vigilant eye and willingness to edit me from afar! And thanks, too, to all of you out there (and there were quite a few of you) who participated and did your part to make my writing look less lame. While the rest of you didn't get any goodies this time around...the 2009 contest is already underway!

As a reminder, the contest works this way: if you find a typo (defined as a typo or a misspelling, or even a geographical fact boo-boo (just had my first one of those pointed out, thanks to Jo)) in anything that I write online--and it's something that's FIXABLE (that is, something I can edit)--you let me know via email or a note on here. You may find such typos on this blog, or on my web page, or on the Nice Guy site (if we ever get back to that again), or whatever. If you find it, and you're the first one to point it out, you get a point. Person with the most points on 4/6/2010 wins and gets a prize. So, for example, typos in email don't count, as that's not something I can go back and correct. Same with, say, comments on this blog. Blog itself counts, comments do not. And it has to be a clear error, not a debatable one...for example, I sometimes get creative with the language use and make up fake words because they sound funny. So if it's a mistake for realz (see what I did there? I did a wacky internet word...on purpose!), then it counts! So don't hesitate to let me know. This not only helps keep my writing looking better, but each time one is pointed out, that's a reinforcement for me to watch out for it in the future. So you're helping me become a better writer, helping others who have to read this stuff whose eyes might scorch at the sight of a "your" instead of a "you're", and you may just end up helping yourself to something cool for your troubles.

So, thanks again, Martin, thanks again, everyone else from 2008, and start looking for those boo-boos for the next big win! It is ON!

And in today's top stories...

Let's see what's going on in the news at the end of our week.

'Housewives' Cast Gathers to Bid Sheridan Adieu
"Bitch!". (Slap). Ratings!

Man Stabbed While Trying to Break Up Party
I told you, mother &%$#, there AIN'T no party like a WEST coast party!! (stab, stab).

Giant Mars Rover Parachute Passes Key Test
It opened! Sweet! Next test.

Kansas Couple Married for 67 Years Die Hours Apart
And I'm dying to figure out how many cigars and lapdances he squeezed into those few hours after she was gone...

Bogus Waiter Tricks Customers at 2 NJ Restaurants
Ha! It was a Carl's Jr. burger, beeyatch! Suck it!!

U.S. Will Boycott U.N. Conference On Racism
We found out there were going to be Mexicans there.

Obama Says He'll Cut Dozens of Wasteful Programs
"Jerry Springer" and "America's Next Top Model" are high on his list.

Dead Dolphin Found Near Bon Jovi's House
Dude. I thought the Rod Stewart German Shepherd rumors were creepy...

Asia Militants Get More Sophisticated Online
u r PWNED, noob!!!11! Islam roolz!!!! lol!!!

Laughter Is Indeed the Best Medicine
Though it still won't make that rash and painful urination go away.

Californians Say "Baby, Baby, No More Drilling"
The Coalition of Infant Dentists has filed suit in response.

Police: Hospital Rampage Motive May Never Be Known
I'm going to have to go with "the food"?

Health Advocates Tout New Model of Female Condom
Sweet. Is she hot?

School Obesity Program Shows Some Benefits
If we fatten your kids up at school for you, you'll save LOADS of dough on groceries.

Less Than Half of Young Women Screened for Chlamydia
That's it. I'm tearing out half my little black book.

Tough Laws, Higher Prices Mean Fewer Kids Smoke
Thankfully, Ecstasy is still dirt cheap. Woo hoo!

Exercise During Pregnancy May Help Baby
Of course, the hard part is getting that tiny Stairmaster up in there...

Nations Set New Tourism Limits for Antarctica
Thank God. It's like freaking Disneyland down there these days!

Sutter Middle School Wins National Debate Competition
Did not.
Did too!
Did not!
Did too!
Sigh. Okay, they did. Well played, Sutter.

Energy Secretary: Islands Could Disappear
Am I the only one who thinks our Energy Secretary is watching too much "Lost"?

Day After Plunking Woman, Bill Murray Hacks Away
Some headlines are just beyond commentary. Thank you, and good night.

Alien Bat Boy's Horoscope Makes Him Try Dolly Parton Diet!

Before there was an internet or email forwards, we, as Americans, had but one outlet for our need to read complete bull$%&# and think, "It could happen...". And that was the Weekly World News. The king of silly tabloids, this rag provided endless stuck-in-line-at-the-market hilarity. From claims of celebrities being aliens to tales of Bigfoot love slaves, it made many of us smile, and made many of our crazier relatives believe.

And now, we no longer have to turn to the Safeway racks to relive the memories. Google Book Search has now posted up over two decades of WWN fun, whole issues to browse through and be amazed by. Be captivated again as you follow the adventures of the New York Bat Boy. Find out how space aliens guided Reagan's policies. Quiver at the shocking truth that G.I.'s captured Satan himself in Iraq! So dust off your lust for horoscopes and your faith in Nostradamus prophecies (and what they have to tell us about Suzanne Somers) and dive in. The Loch Ness Monster will thank you.

Weekly World News Issues

An Update from the Heart

All right, finally done with the long trip to the cardiologist. Seriously...why do I bother being on time (I was even a few minutes early) if I'm going to have to sit in the exam room for a whole hour before the doc even shows up?

The short version - not looking too bad. Yes, I've kicked into high A-Fib (I like that term, because it sounds like a euphemism for a lie). They can't quite tell me why (and they really don't seem to care much about the why, interestingly. Maybe it's just me...). It's possible it was the change in meds a couple weeks back, so I'm starting on a new med today, at a higher strength, to see if that tackles the problem. And there's another possibility for a fix here - a surgical one. Since I went to the ER, I've gotten info from some folks about their own trials dealing with A-Fib, and things they've had done. A couple of folks have had a procedure done that pretty much takes care of (most of) the problem and removes the need for one of the meds that I take each day. That'd be nice. I discussed it with my doc. It's not totally his area, so I'd have to see someone else in the cardiac clinic to discuss it, but it's something they hadn't discussed with me before, likely, because it didn't have that great of a success rate up until about five years ago. Now it's definitely much better. So it may or may not be something that would work for me, but I'm going to have to put off seeing them about it and looking into it until the insurance things gets squared away (I'm technically between insurance right now (hence the $100 deposit I had to pay today)), waiting to here if coverage is in place and will cover all this stuff I'm doing this week). Until then, I can't jump into anything big. Long as I know the current problem is not a serious life-and-afterlife one (it's not, I've got that (fingers crossed...) verified), I can wait until I find out that all's well with coverage. And then, this little episode may have been the thing that opened to door to a solution that makes things much, much better for me. Silver linings, people!

Until then...well, I hope this new med at this higher dose knocks out the problem, because while it's not immediately dangerous, it's not pleasant. And I do NOT like spending all this time in bed. I want to be getting stuff done (like writing, dadblammit!). But it's too hard to 1) stay upright and 2) stay focused when this is going on. I was reading an article online about A-Fib last night, and heard someone describe the sensation as having a jackrabbit in your chest that's trying to get out. That's the best I've heard it put so far. So I'll give it a few days, take it easy, see how the new med does, and continue my Buffy DVD marathon (I'm on season 4 already). This is just like what I went through with my kidney stone fiasco of a few years ago...lots of TV time, but this time without being pleasantly high all day on pain meds. So this time I can pay attention to what's on the TV a lot better.

So, for those wanting an update - the news is good. The situation sucks, but could be muuuuuch worse, so I'll do my best to dam the gripes. The biggest fear I had was the possible financial devastation of a forced hospital stay and some kind of immediate surgical procedure, and that appears to be off the table (as do I!). Sweet!

Oh, and hey...if you're a fan of Dollhouse, don't forget to tune in on Fox tonight. Only about three weeks left to get those ratings up to see if we'll get a second season. Don't hold your breath, but you never know...

BONUS OF THE DAY: Hot pharmacy girl with Russian accent to flirt with. Da, baby!

Hey...I thought ER was supposed to be over...

I'll try to keep this one quick, since I'm trying to be smart and keep laying down and taking it easy. But I wanted to provide an update for folks who found out, from my live update on Facebook, that I was in the ER last night.

So, long story shot - been having some weird heart things happening. Extra beats and such. This creates a flutter, a wee bit of disorientation and something like, but not quite, light-headedness. It's really hard to put into words. Having the heart that I do, I'm used to things happening like this from time to time. This one was more pronounced, went on longer, and seemed to be getting worse. Still, I didn't want to do anything about it if I didn't have to, since, you know...I'm uninsured right now?

I had the folks call from Modesto, where they were going to be staying last night on their way back from their San Diego trip. Their plan was to come by the next morning, and I was going to follow them back up to their place in Lakeport and spend a couple of days. So, had to let them know that it probably wasn't a good idea, and why. I wanted to be close in case I needed to see a doctor. So instead of staying in Modesto, they hopped in the SUV and drove here to stay the night at my place. After my mother worked her mojo and checked with admissions at the local hospital and found out I'm all but certainly qualified for the county coverage on the bill, I decided to do the smart thing and go in, if for no other reason than to get was happening to me recorded and documented. I've had too many times in my life when I've had a problem, then it was gone by the time I got to my doctor's appointment, and the doctor would then just shrug. Not this time.

For 11:00pm on a weeknight, it was a very crowded ER. Good news? Having a heart problem does get you quickly to the front of the line. They did an immediate EKG on me, which got me triaged right into a bed. Got hooked up to a monitor. Excellent. Someone was clearly seeing what was going on. They also took a chest x-ray to make sure everything was still hooked up right on my pacemaker, and drew blood for some tests. And again, the heart part means front of the line on test results. I felt like Ray Liotta taking a date to see Bobby Vinton.

The folks were able to get their way back where I was after a while and wait there in the curtain area (where I was so disappointed that no one asked for a CBC, Chem-7, type-and-match, and then yelled "Come on, people, MOVE!" Can I get a refund if my emergency experience isn't NBC enough?). Eventually, I got the typcial doctor's diagnosis I'm used to - a good helping of "huh?". They could tell me that yes, I was throwing a whole lot of PVCs. They just weren't sure why. All my blood tests seemed to be okay, my electrolytes were fine. Pacemaker seemed to be working okay. But at least they assured me not to be too concerned about it. Which is frustrating, because while your ear's hearing a doctor say that it's one thing? What your body is telling you is something else. I'd basically spent the last two and a half days in bed, because that's what your body tells you to do when you feel what I'm feeling.

Got home around 3:00am, which is just fine for me, but not so fine on the poor folks, who are normal 6:00am risers. Not that they were complaining, of course. They were very happy to have been there. And I guess it was a nice change to have company along for the ride, considering last time I was in the ER (the trip where I got checked in and got a pacemaker installed the next day) I drove myself there and didn't call anyone until the next morning... Their presence was much appreciated. So they reluctantly headed home this morning (as I insisted, as they have things to do and there's nothing they can really do here) and I (eventually) got up and on the phone and got an appointment set up for this Friday with my cardiologist. The problem itself seems to be a little better. This leads me to believe that my diagnosis might be correct - they changed a medication on me recently, and once this fact occurred to me yesterday morning, I switched back to the original med, just to see if there would be any change - and that hopefully this will lead to a quick fix so I can stop staying in bed all the time. You'd think that'd be a good thing (the bed part), but it kind of blows when you have a bunch of stuff you'd rather be doing.

So, yes, back from the hospital and all seems wellish. I'm just happy they didn't try to keep me there (they offered that "if I wanted" but didn't insist on it) and I'm home with my own bed and my own DVDs. I've been trapped in hospitals with five channels to choose from before, left with nothing for days but Jerry Springer and Cheaters to pass that time. Home is gooder. No doubt.

Speaking of which? Back to lounging. Will update as newness comes.

But the really good news in all this? My brute's up to level 5, and I have a bear AND a puppy!:

http://oconnellmd.mybrute.com

Better to have loved and lost?

We're coming up on that time of year again, that time when wailing, heartbroken fans find out that the network has chosen to not renew their favorite TV show. While this is slightly less traumatic than having your favorite show cancelled mid-season (or, in some cases these days, after only two or three episodes have aired at all), it's still a big metal spike through the heart.

And then the mourning process begins.

Stage 1 (Denial): Come on, everyone! There's still time! Let's start a letter-writing campaign, and take out a full-page ad in Variety! We'll show them there's a lot more of us fans out there than they know! They'll see how serious we are and will HAVE to change their mind! Right?

Stage 2 (Anger): Stupid greedy ignorant networks! They wouldn't know a good show if...if...they just wouldn't know a good show! And America is stupid! Bunch of reality-show-worshipping mouth-breathers who don't know anything about good writing and good directing and good performances. They all just want to watch "When Celebrity Animals Attack" reruns. They didn't DESERVE to have a show as good as mine on the air! If they'd have just been smart enough to watch it like me, we would have had the ratings and it would have come back!

Stage 3 (Bargaining): Okay...look. What if, say, you just gave us HALF a season? Just give us another chance to find an audience. If you do that, we'll do everything we can to get the word out and get all our friends to watch it...and then you, the network, will get better ratings and can charge more for advertising! EVERYbody wins!

Stage 4 (Depression): That's it. It's not coming back. There'll never be another show like it. Ever. TV is dead. No one cares about making good shows anymore. I give up on TV completely. I'm just going to read books now. See how the networks like THAT. (Sniffle). I hope all those actors get new jobs soon. They were the best actors ever on any TV show ever. I wish them all well. I know they're all thinking about how I feel about all this, too, because of the close connection I feel we share. I hate you, network television.

Stage 5 (Acceptance): What?! They're doing a remake of Simon & Simon next season?! Dude, I am SO there! Woo hoo!

With the varying schedules between networks (with cable networks now included), some of us are getting our bad news early. I had the season finale of "Trust Me" on my DVR, finally got around to watching it tonight. And, having a suspicious feeling (as in, why was TNT showing two episodes a night for the last month or so, if not just to hurry up and use them all up and get it off the air?), I did a little internet search and found out that, no surprise, my favorite new show of this year is a goner. I'd be more devastated if I wasn't so used to it. These days, best you can do is shrug and move on. I will own this thing a.s.a.p. on DVD when it comes out, just so I can add it to my growing collection of single-season sets of shows I loved that got the ax.

Those of us actually watching "Dollhouse" on Fox pretty much agree, even if we don't want to say it out loud, that there's no way this thing's coming back after this season. I just caught some comments from creator Joss Whedon at a recent appearance, and even he's talking about it like it's already gone. No official word on that yet, but I'm sure it'll be coming as sweeps approaches next month, so I'm just enjoying while I can. Terminator fans are also waiting to hear if "Sarah Conner Chronicles" will be renewed for the third season, but things aren't looking great there, either. Those of us hip to "Castle" are feeling good about it, but I'm hearing that the ratings are slowly dropping, so it's not a definite shoe-in for next season. Note that if anyone's out there trying "Better Off Ted"? I wouldn't bother at this point. Per what I'm reading, the ratings say ZERO chance of that seeing more action.

I think there should be some kind of common courtesy rule involved in every contract for every new show: if you've put the show on your network, where it's drawn in fans (even if it's not as many as you wanted), you owe those fans an ending if you cancel it. Some closure. This just happened recently with ABC's "Life On Mars", the remake of the British show of the same name. They knew they weren't coming back, so they got to make their final episode. I saw, quite by accident, the final minutes of that final episode, and believe me, it was definitely closure (points for giving a show one of the more unexpected endings I've ever seen...). Leaving the fans hanging not only leaves that lingering feeling of loss for years to come, but worse, it opens the door to really horrible fan fiction that spreads across the web, stories that either continue the series or, more often, just envision key characters getting it on. I say every show, no matter how few episodes make it to screen, deserves the same chance to have its own confusing and violent-debate-inspiring finale as the Sopranos.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go (1) email TNT (2) (the bastards) and (3) convince them that my blog alone can convince people people to give "Trust Me" a second chance (4) though I'm sure it won't do any good since this always happens to me and God hates me and I'm worthless and life is unfair (5) and close by letting them know how excited I am that they're bringing back "Leverage" for a second season. Yay!

Fun With Handicappedness; The Insistent Samaritan

(Han-dee-CAP-ed-ness - how to pronounce my made-up word).

Had another one of those fun days yesterday where your patience with the abled gets tested.

I had to go to this job search workshop thing downtown. I got a letter letting me know that it was a requirement for continued unemployment benefits. Sounds like a good reason to go to me (I'd like to keep getting my checks, thank you...).

Unfortunately, my sleep schedule has been very turned around, and this was a 9:00 AM appointment. This means getting up about 6:30 AM...right around the time I've been getting to sleep lately. I tried to change things around in the couple of days before Thursday, but come Wednesday night, though I went to bed early, I could not, for the life of me, fall asleep, no matter how hard I tried. I have frequent sleep issues, so I've been in this boat before, and I've learned that at some point, I cross a line where I just need to give up. This happened, Wednesday night/Thursday morning, at about 3:00 AM. I got up and got some stuff done, got showered, and waited until it was time to go. I was not looking forward to the idea of sitting through some government workshop thing on zero sleep.

I left at 8:00 AM, wanting to allow plenty of time for traffic. Oops...Easter week. I'd forgotten. There was almost no traffic to speak of. So I was down there, not getting lost for a change, and was parked by 8:30. Cool. Early is better than running late. I got my stuff together and got out of the van. There was a brief pause in the rain at that time, so I didn't have to worry about my umbrella.

I got down the lift, closed up the doors, and started heading up the ramp into the building. I paused part of the way up. I had a few things in my hands, and wanted to rearrange them. I'd brought a book, always assuming that these things are going to involve mega-waiting and take all day, and was trying to figure out if I could slide it into the spot next to me on the seat without it falling out as I rolled along, so I wouldn't have to carry it. It was while I was doing this that I heard a voice behind me. I looked up and saw movement in the reflection of the glass doors ahead. Behind me, a not-very-tall guy Asian gent in security guard uniform was running up from the parking lot, toward me, in a controlled panic.

I didn't need to wonder why. I was in a wheelchair, and stopped on a ramp. Clearly, I had gotten myself somehow stuck halfway up and needed saving.

Sigh.

This is one of those situations you deal with a lot in wheelchair living - good-hearted people wanting to help. It's fantastic that we still live in a world where people want to. It's a beautiful thing. And it's certainly not that it's not appreciated, don't get me wrong. But most of the time, we really don't NEED any help. And most of us also cherish our independence. We're frustrated at those times when we do need some kind of assistance, and relish in the times that we don't have to face that. So it's awkward when you're doing something that you're completely capable of doing (in this case, just pushing myself in the chair), and someone shows up wanting to help you. Imagine, if you will, yourself doing something like, say, pumping gas into you car, and suddenly a stranger appears and asks if they can help you with that. Your first thought would be what my first reaction is - um...why? But in my case, I have to remember that people don't see me as I see myself. They see the chair. They have no way of knowing what I'm capable of and what I'm not, and their first kind reaction is to want to help someone "differently abled" out. Again...that makes them a good person. For sure. And the last thing I want to be responsible for in this world is discouraging people from doing good deeds, or making them feel in some way bad about it. But there's also the other side of me that just wants to get on with my day and lead a normal life without someone coming up and reminding me that I'm different and that everyone around is staring at me - a fact I'm pretty good at blocking out. It's one of those conflicted moments in life where you're not quite sure how to feel. And it's a position, given a choice, that I'd rather not be put in, but it is what it is.

So here comes Paul Blart. I see him running up as fast as his little legs will carry him. He reaches me and immediately grabs my handholds. This, FYI, is kind of inappropriate if you don't actually know the person in the chair, but you get used to it happening. He says something to me that roughly comes out to "Let me help you", but it's clear English is not his first language, so it's a bit choppy. I try to politely (and with genuine good cheer) express that I'm fine, that I really don't need his assistance...but the language barrier is making sure that's not getting across. He starts slowly pushing me up the hill...so I do the only thing I can, which is to say thank you and sit back for the ride. He's pushing me very slowly (perhaps afraid I'll fall out), and the trip up the ramp is maddeningly long. But it's almost over, so I'm cool.

He continues to push me through the doors. Ahead, I see a table with a big sign above it that clearly tells you it's the starting point. There's a little form you're supposed to fill out that explains why you're there, and next to the stack of them there's a box of number two pencils. Typical government thinking. I can't just get in line and TELL a human being what I'm there for. A form must be filled out! Our tax dollars at work. So this was the logical end to the pushing (actually a bit beyond it), so I told Mr. Security thank you again, and said that I had it from there. And, of course, he didn't understand me again. He stayed, dutifully, right behind me with his hands firmly on the handles.

I started filling out the form, and there was a vast list of boxes to check for your reason. I wanted to make sure I had the right one (again, this is government. The wrong box checked could put me back at the end of the line and get me a stern talking-to), so I needed to refer to my letter that they'd sent me, and it was folded up inside the book I had sitting next to my hip. I set the form and pencil down and sat up to reach for the book. My chauffeur said something like, "Okay", signalling that he understood it was time to go, and started to pull me away from the table. I started using words again...not having learned my lesson...and ended up having to grab the book quickly, block my front wheels with my feet to keep in place, and hope that my tone got the idea across that I wasn't done yet. It seemed to. With a sigh (still trying to be patient, but just wanting this guy off my back now, as the language thing was adding a whole new layer to the awkwardness), I finished up my form. Again, I sat up and tried to say that I had it from here. Oh, no I didn't! He remained true to his duty, and continued pushing me up to the area where the line was.

Okay, I figured at least THIS would be the end of things. He'd get me up to the line, and he'd realize that this was as far as he went, and I could say my final thank you and get back to my life. Yet, my words once more seemed to fall on deaf ears. He remained. After a few moments, though, he did step away. Whew. THAT would be the end of it. Well, no. I heard him saying something behind me. I turned around, and he'd pulled one of the office employees away from whatever he was doing. And he was asking him if he could take care of me. This was not one of those handy front-of-the-line situations (like Disneyland)...he was clearly trying to get the guy to stay with me and push me. Okay. We had now officially hit the "Oh, for goodness sake" point of this event. The new guy (English-speaking) stood there, looking at me, wondering what it was he was supposed to do. And I sat there not quite sure what to tell him. So, instead, I just said, "Uh...I'm here for the Job Search appointment...?" Oh, good...he knew what I was talking about. He said I'd just need to go right down there (he pointed back toward the direction I'd come from) and gather with the other people already waiting. Excellent! I had direction, and didn't have to wait in a line to get it! And now I could just wheel myself down there and...

No. As ordered by the security guard, who now seemed to have gone back to his non-medical duties, this employee took the handholds and started pushing me down there.

Repeat sigh.

I went with it. He got me down to where the new employee was taking people's letters from them and checking them out, and he actually listened to me when, giving it one last try, I said I had it from there...and thank you. And (whew) he headed back to whatever painstakingly boring and repetitive task the state had him doing at the time. And all of a sudden...I was magically able to move around by myself! It was a medical miracle! How could someone in a wheelchair POSSIBLY roll their own ass around without divine intervention? Cue angelic music. Greenlight the Hallmark movie.

There are many people in this world to whom apathy is like breathing. I believe that people, by and large, are basically good at heart, but there are the bad apples that make the world a less pleasant place for all of us. But then, there are guys like an English-challenged security guard who steps away from his assigned duties and goes (well) out of his way to do something clearly not in his job description, just because he feels it's the right thing to do. The world needs more people like this guy (even if I don't, necessarily, on a personal level). And people like him don't get the credit they deserve. For this reason, I will continue to check my ego, will keep from seeing such acts as patronizing, and will remain vigilant in my patience and belief that a good-natured "thanks" is the very least folks of this nature deserve. Maybe I don't need the help. But maybe they need the chance to give it.

And please note that no one ever took my "why are you here?" form for me. And yet, I got what I'd come for. And society did not immediately collapse under the weigh of this dereliction of procedure. Score one for the resistance.

Back to School

I went to a very small private school for the grades of fifth through twelfth. This was the same Seventh-day Adventist school that my mother had graduated from, along with her brothers, and that she eventually sent me and my sister to as well. Nestled in the heart of quiet, scenic Carmichael, California, the institution first known as Sacramento Junior Academy went on to change its name to Sacramento Union Academy. That name remained until the year after I graduated, when it became Sacramento Adventist Academy. Call it by that name now if you please, but it will still always be SUA to me.

When I say small school, I don't josh. When I was attending the high school there, there was a total of two hundred and fifty (roughly) students in all four classes, and only twenty-seven in my graduating senior class. Very few buildings, obviously no need for a LOT of classrooms. The high school section is on one portion of the campus grounds. The junior high has its own building (that it shares with the elementary administration office). And then grades one through six have their own buildings elsewhere. There's a gym that all classes share, along with football and baseball fields. The high school has its own library. The elementary has theirs. It's not a big campus, and certainly nothing ritzy. While it's a private school, and it costs a lot to send your kids there, it's no Welton Academy. Nor Baird School. Not even Hogwarts.

This past weekend, an annual event there took place known as Alumni Weekend. Each year, come April, a special church service is held in the school gymnasium (on a Saturday, as those wacky Adventists go to church on Saturday, in case you didn't know), and all former students of SUA (or SAA, or SJA) are invited to attend. Certain classes are honored if it's one of their reunion years - say, their 10-year, 20-year, 25-year reunion, etc. Members of those classes tend to show up at this service first, and then meet together later that night somewhere, like a restaurant, for their actual reunion.

This event is always a good time. First off, it's a lot of fun to be back on the old campus, to see the place again where you spent so much of your young life. It's also great to see the people. Going to such a small school, there's really not much of a "clique" thing happening. You tend to know everyone, freshmen to senior, from your time there. Never having attended a large metropolitan high school, I can only imagine going back to a place where there were hundreds in your class, some of whom you may never have even spoken to. In my school, you know everyone, by name and by face - it was just unavoidable. If you didn't know some freshman personally, you at least know OF him/her. So you know, going to this, that you're going to see people that you remember, and that you probably haven't seen in many years.

I'm currently living around the corner from the old campus, so I really have no excuse not to attend. This is, unless I forget the event is coming and hear about it after the fact. Since moving back to Sac, I've gone three times, one of which was my 20-year reunion gathering three years ago. This year I wanted to go because in the past few months, a ridiculous amount of former students from the Academy discovered Facebook, and then ended up finding each other. My Facebook friend list has over 80 people on it, and the majority of those are former classmates that I've now reconnected with. So I figured this would be a big year for people making the event, and I didn't want to miss out on seeing everyone.

So, forcing myself to wake up around the time that I'm normally going to sleep these days, I got up Saturday morning, put on a shirt and tie, and drove around the block to the old campus, the one I drove by every day on my way to work--back when I still HAD work. I'd gotten something in the mail with the schedule for the event, but managed to lose it, so I wasn't sure what time it started. For some reason 9:30 stuck in my head, and I got there around 9:40, thinking I was running late. The relative emptiness of the parking lot confused me, and made me realize I'd shown up quite early. Oops. Well, at least I got a handicapped spot before they all filled up.

I headed to the gym, where the few people that had arrived were hanging out. No one I knew. The folks there were mostly from the "older classes" (any class older than yours). No one from my decade in sight. That was kind of fun, though. I ended up meeting some people from the classes of '79...'64...even '59. I ran into the sister of an old family friend, someone who'd known my mother in her youth. And, best yet, I bumped into Mr. Hickerson, my eighth grade teacher, a man who'd long since retired. Good to see that he was doing well.

I got my nametag at the sign-up table and put it on. The school's current band and choir were roaming around in their uniforms, getting ready for the event. Band and choir are a huge part of things at that school. Just about everyone is in one or the other. This is not only because it's the easiest part of your school day (a good chance to goof around for an hour), but you also get to do off-site performances at community events or at other churches, and even take really cool trips, like the one I was on during my senior year when we bussed our way up to Canada to perform at the '86 World Fair. I was in the choir, myself. Could I sing? Uh, no. But you didn't have to try out for this choir, and I got by by mostly lip-syncing my way through. Saved me the trouble of having to learn an instrument.

They were serving some muffiny breakfast stuff at a table as more people started showing, and I pulled out my iPhone and started snapping some shots and uploading them to my Facebook page for the people who wouldn't be able to attend. Finally, some familiar faces showed! As this was the class of '84 25-year reunion, a good number of them made it, as I'd figured. I knew a lot of those people, who were the seniors when I was a sophomore. Every school has the one class in it that's just legendary. The one whose members are the coolest people, the funniest, the most talented, the ones who have all the best stories that are re-told and embellished by the younger classes. For my generation, it was the class of '84. All great people. And a lot them were already on my Facebook list. It was great to see them all back on campus. Other classes, here and there, were represented. From my class, my buddies Chris and Jon showed up, so we were the only three of the twenty-seven who made it. In the class of '87 (the juniors when I was a senior, and a class I hung out with more than my own that year), only our pal Dennis showed. My sister's class ('85) only had Robert there, with his son, to stand up for his peeps. There were a few from '89 (the ones I still think of as the freshmen), as it was their 20-year. That is officially the last class where I know anyone. '90 on? Don't know a soul.

I noticed a couple of more recent graduates show up, and these two guys made me laugh. They were clearly maybe just a year or two out of high school, and they walked into the crowd, looking around at the campus with laughing "Oh my God" looks, like they couldn't believe they were back on campus after ALL that time since they'd graduated. That made me smile, being a guy whose memories were a couple of decades older than theirs.

The service was a little longer than normal, due to some additional speakers. This year represented fifty years since the school first started, and the class of '59 was celebrating the Academy's first ever 50-year reunion. So they had some of them come up and speak and talk about what school life was like back then. Very entertaining. One nice thing about that - many of the classes I went to school with have had a member or two die in the years since high school (my class has someone shot several times (on the same day...I don't mean that he just has lousy luck and gets shot on a regular basis), but no deaths yet), but the class of '59, fifty years later, has yet to lose a single member. That was very cool to hear.

We heard performances from the band and choir, of course, which brought back many memories for all of us, who all had to do the same at Alumni Weekend every year. Just watching the choir up on the risers singing took me back to all those endless hours in the band and choir room, repeating those songs over and over, with Mr. Thornton trying to get us all to quit goofing around (there was a lot of goofing with us back in the bass section) and focus. There was another amusing singing moment, too, when the current ASB (Associated Student Body) President got up at the podium and requested all former presidents and vice-presidents come up front and join him in the singing of the school song ("In the Sacramento vall-ey, where the lofty oak trees grow..."). The prez repping my generation was '84's Randy Mathews, who, very famously his senior year, did a blues guitar version of the song that brought the house down at a school assembly. Randy's a guy I'm very grateful to, as, after I hadn't spoken to him in over twenty years, he suddenly appeared and made a very generous donation to my new van fund back in '06. Like I said...small school. You remember the names, remember the people. And I'll always remember how he remembered mine in my time of need.

The sermon itself was a very good one. The speaker was someone I'd never known, myself, a pastor that came on the scene just after my time. His daughter, Joanne, was in the class of '89, and she ended up marrying one of my gang, Robert (class of '88). Robert ended up with the preacher's daughter?! Time's a funny thing... The speech was really good, and very entertaining (and with a George Carlin reference in it! Times HAVE changed since my day...). This was a nice change from the Alumni Weekend of my 20-year reunion, where my old youth pastor got up and gave a talk on how Satan was trying to overthrow America (?), one that made Tim and I look at each other and wonder if we'd gotten those kind of talks back in the day and had just blocked them out, or if Adventism had grown weirder in our absence.

After it ended, there was a (vegetarian, of course) lunch served, and people hung around at a bunch of set-up picnic benches and chatted while chowing down. I got to catch up with a lot of people, and take a good look around the area - a reminder that every bench, every hall, every doorway held some kind of memory for me. The spot in front of the gym where, at lunch, us dorky freshmen played D&D. The low brick wall outside the library's restrooms where we'd sit and plan out our weekend partying to come (obviously this was AFTER the D&D phase...). The spot just outside the multi-purpose room where Chris and I stood in the receiving line after our graduation. Little bits of my history, everywhere. I noticed a couple of interesting additions to the place, too. There's this grass hill that runs next to the stairs that lead up to the junior high building. Well, there USED to be. Now it's all but gone, replaced by a ridiculously overdone wheelchair ramp that twists and turns its way up like Lombard Street. Ah, the A.D.A. in action. At the top of that ramp is the door to what used to be (if memory serves) the art room. However, it now has a sign on it identifying it as "Day Care". EXCUSE me? I HOPE that's there for the teachers...

We all spent a couple hours hanging out out there, and it didn't occur to me that we were doing so on a nice sunny day until I started feeling the effects. Sunburn!! When I verbalized that, Randy and his wife tried to hook me up with some sunblock, but the damage was already done, and we were about to head to the shade. I ended up red-faced with sunglasses-induced raccoon eyes, and the top of my head (lacking much of its old folicalular protection) really took the worst of it. I looked like Hellboy later that night, and couldn't lean my head back on my pillow without stabbing pain. Next time I'm coming to church in a trucker's cap.

Chris and Dennis and I decided to head down the hill to the old classroom/locker area and check it out. We had been talking earlier about wishing one of us had brought a yearbook. Before we headed down, Chris and Dennis snuck into the library, tracked down the one from '86, and swiped it and took it down with us. Bad seeds, those two! Don't worry...they put it back before we left. We hung out down there by the senior wall. If you're a long-time reader of this blog, you may remember the story I told about my involvement in the vandalizing of that wall my senior year. So I had to get a picture of myself in front of it (shown above...with the borrowed yearbook). Sadly, seniors don't get to paint it anymore, like they used to every year. It just has a permanent school logo painted on it now. Dennis and I had joked about sneaking on campus the night before this event and defacing the wall for old times' sake, but when we got there, we discovered the campus has now not only added lots of locked gates, but security cameras as well! Guess it's a good thing we didn't. We consider that a challenge for next year...

After some more hanging out, we finally all said our good-byes, and I headed home to upload all my photos to Facebook. As usual, the trip back to the old campus was a great one, brought back tons of old memories, and was a great chance to find out what old classmates had been up to all these years. I feel bad for people who hated their high school years and have no desire to go back. Those were some of the best years of my life, spent with some of the best people I've ever known. I'd go back and do it all again in a heartbeat. Of course, I'd study a lot more this time. But I'd still goad the bass section into doing an obscene gesture "wave" and getting us into trouble. I'd still write my English paper on the CIA referencing pages from Robert Ludlum novels with graphic sex scenes in them in my bibliography (answer to whether your references got checked? Nay!). And I'd still go see "Nightmare On Elm Street" and "Reanimator" at the midnight movies as many times as possible. Those were, after all, important parts of my high school years, too.

And that wall?

Stay tuned...