ChillSpot Online: Our Art is Life

This weekend was quiet … and that was enough. I played video games, tripped over the Ikea furniture still waiting to be assembled, watched an Indian family play cornhole as I rode my bike, ate crappy food, and slept a lot. So, you’ll have to do with this for now … I also applied for a couple jobs … ugh.

*** It’s football season, so I’m pumped about that, and I’m also pumped that September should be an interesting month for me. Some plans coming that should be unique and exciting. The tarot cards suggest that something surprising is coming, and that I should embrace the change as a mother bear does its cubs. I guess? Stupid ass tarot cards… Anyway, I think I’ll just continue to do what I’ve been doing, only with more order. How bout that?

Today the apartment is the cave. And I am the caveman, avoiding sun, people and dogs and watermelons. No exits, just me, pizza, PB and J, and beating Zelda again. I watched the Dave Chappelle Show, somehow ended up researching John Mayer, came to the conclusion that he’s not as bad as I thought, and scanned some of his music… Sorry it wasn’t more exciting, but hey, I’m nearly done with the game!

The goals for today: return that damn game and get a workout in. Oh, and send off the rebate form. High hopes and dreams eh?

By the way, we here on Ikea watch ’09 are on the 10th day with no sign of when I’m going to put the damn bookcase together. I thought I did good just to take it out of the box, but all that did was commit me from returning it… Step over it another day I guess. In any case, the Sleep Reaper claimed most of the late morning and afternoon, in 2 hour chunks. The complex had “Free Sub” day at 5, and it was sort of on the map for me, but I passed, then went over at 5:45, but no subs left. Argh! Did that after a 7 mile ride on the bike; the first one since I confirmed it was that distance. Wasn’t so bad either …

In between the sleeping, I began watching Survival Island, which could well be titled “Kelly Brook’s nude and seminude body on a beach”. Kelly Brook, a white woman with a black booty, spends 90 percent of this movie nude or in skimpy bikini, and has a couple good sex scenes in it as well. If not for the wack ass acting job of the alleged professional – Brook’s husband Billy Zane (himself no stranger to softcore action, see “Lake Consequence”) this movie might have been more artistically pleasing. As it stands, it’s fuckin great … as long as Kelly Brook is in some stage of undress.

So, from me, it gets 4 ½ stars, pretty damn good for a plot-weak, character light, cookie-cutter piece of porn-candy with only one set of breasts (albeit, awesome ones) to go around.

Thought hard about taking the game back, but held off a day, thinking it’ll be a waste; they won’t even exchange it or give a credit … ugh.

Michael Vick made his debut as an Eagle, and it was blah. He was 4-4, one rush, no explosiveness in his legs – yet hours of coverage. Oh yeah, and no serious PETA presence. I guess that makes it a win huh?

The night’s over right? I get up at some odd hour, eat a PB and J AND a chicken sandwich (felt like both, and thought, hell, does it matter if I do it?), and as I’m flipping through channels see a Home Shopping Network styled infomercial selling adult products, on … get this … the Oxygen channel! I watched for 30 minutes just flabbergasted. I never thought, even on cable, something like this would make tv. I might have HOPED, but never expected! The shit was weird (the prostate tickler? HELL TO THE NO!), and expensive (but ON SALE!), and I’m certain many stiff ass conservatives, aka, Americans, bought the shit because they always wanted it, but would NEVER go to the store to do so. So, if you see any unmarked boxes, on your neighbors steps (because delivery people don’t resend or even take it to the clubhouse anymore, they just leave it on your doorstep in hopes no one notices hundreds of dollars worth of something sitting there and just steals it) you can guess what they were doing at 4 a.m.

Hmmm, what will today hold? The grocery store, for one. Supplies have gotten hella low around here. So, after a little convincing, I made a list (a novel idea for me) and headed to Bigg’s, because I’m sick as hell of Kroger. I spent $45.40 (okay, $46, but that was because I gave a dollar to the muscular dystrophy organization) , and only splurged a little on pickles and macaroni salad. The big splurge came when I picked up that Batman: Arkham Asylum game … after reading the review in Game Stop. It’s looking like it’s gonna be a blast.

I can’t return Madden though, because in my haste, I lost the receipt, and the geniuses at the store keep data on me, but not a transaction history. This guy tells me I’ll have to open it, because they can’t accept new items on return, even if it was sold by them. Then he says, oh yeah, as soon as you open it, the value drops from $60 to $30. Does the simple fact of losing a receipt on an item bought less than a week ago cause it to lose 50 percent of its value?

Yeah … So anyway talked on the phone a bit, then had to decide between a long bike ride, or kicking it with my friend Tabari as he hosted a comedy show at Go Bananas. Hmmm, jokes or pain, jokes or pain … yeah. The night at the spot was pretty entertaining … most of the comedians were funny, but Ryan Singer, who was filling space as the votes for who advanced were tallied, was off the chain (thus the mention by name!).

So, there’s an after set at the bar next door, and while I’m standing outside, making mental notes for this entry, an older woman walks by, then comes back and asks if I’ll help her with something … so I say sure. As we’re heading over, she tells me that the gentleman in the wheelchair during the show can’t get into his car; someone parked too close to him – and he needs someone to push his minivan out of its parking spot.

As he sits back out of the way, she’s in the car, worried that she’s making it harder to push. I tell her, no, it’s okay, just sit inside and keep the wheel straight and I’ll get it moving, so, doing my best Conan imitation, complete with the Conan theme music, I push my man’s Ford Windstar, or whatever it was, out the spot. So, for the day, I’m two up in the good deed department … yay!

So, back to the spot … Tabari shows up, pissed at himself for flubbing a joke which I didn’t even notice he flubbed, then we head in, where he’s saying hi to everyone it seems. So, I’m doing my best wingman/awkward tag-a-long routine, as I meet Jamie and Tina, the self-proclaimed “Comedy Groupies” who practice in awkward social interactions. Before them though, Tabari dumps me with Courtney, a short, blond flamethrower, who, despite her size, will never be overlooked in a crowd, I guarantee. I end up hanging with Tina and Jamie, who eventually let me into their conversation about boys, and those in the room who they (meaning Jamie) like.

So me, being the ass that I am, start picking with her. But not too much … I don’t think. Tabari comes back, looking to remind me that he’s capable of freestyling a rhyme like it was 96 in this piece, so he goes off on like a 4 minute flow, as Jamie and Tina look on, a bit dumbfounded. Guess they didn’t know? After that, he dips again, and when I spot him again, he’s outside chatting with some other comedians. I go out, looking to start some shit, when some guy, sheets to the wind, starts lightweight blasting Courtney about being negative. She’s clearly pissed, and this guy, who probably likes her but is too drunk or salty to see he’s fucking it up, keeps telling her just how shitty she is, going so far as to say “You should announce your presence so I can run to the other side of the room. I only keep positivity around me…” She’s pissed, and when he leaves, she looks to me and says “I’m not negative. It’s just jokes.” I remind her that she doesn’t have to explain herself to me, I don’t know her … but she’s clearly a little miffed by it all.

Turns out, she went to UC, albeit 10 years AFTER me, but still. As she vents about the encounter, I step in and say “You really don’t have to explain yourself to me; I’m quite capable of making a judgment about you without help from that guy.” That seems to cool her off as she leaves to talk to Cronin, aka Meat, a comedian, about something that seems more serious than it is – a crush perhaps? I go in, and Jamie and Tina leave, so that’s seeming like a good time for me to leave too. I dap out Tabari, tell him we’ll talk, and head out. As I’m leaving, one of Courtney’s buddies, who’s a little toasted, waves bye and says “You’re HOT!” “Thank you,” I reply, and roll on…

Quiet day, yes? Watched Conan the Barbarian, which had some added scenes in it, which I actually liked. Conan spoke a little to his comrade about his shitty life in one scene, and in the other, the princess actually helps him get to Thulsa Doom. Made a new friend named Toya, who loves football like crazy, hates Donovan McNabb, and basketball, and is a demanding little you-know-what.

***(Note: I saw two deer having sex on Sunday at Hueston Woods … first time ever seen that not on tv…)

Today I’m going to go see Star Trek at the budget theatre. I’ve seen it once before, but I wanted to catch it again. It was easily the best of the popcorn movies this summer, so it needs a second viewing on the big screen. I’m feeling like Red Lobster, so I left a little early, but once I got there, I didn’t want it, so I headed to the Golden Corral instead.

It was virtually empty, and the people eating had the average age of 84. I got in there and started heaping green and yellow food on my plate, mac and cheese, spinach, green beans and corn … along with rice and chicken.

My server, Kris, was a smiley-faced 20 something with long, curly brown hair and really tall shoes on (she said she was 5’5” without them, and that they were good for back support, which she needed working two jobs). I sat chatting with her for 30 minutes, about her aspirations for the future (in school for English literature), her lack of a social life (the two jobs and school) and her regrets of not finishing sooner. She mentioned she was “wild” and when I asked her to elaborate, she opened the question to the groups of seniors who were her regulars. An old man replied “you see what you get,” and punctuated it with a not-so-subtle wink.

He did this again, as he left with his wife and said goodbye to her, a sort of endorsement for me, saying, “hey she’s great, kid. Go for it.” I left her a decent tip, and headed for the show.

The theatre, in the desolate Cincinnati Mall, was falling apart in all ways. The seats creaked, the floor was cracked, the armrests were loose and in some cases, jagged, and the sound and video were low-rate. Did I say I enjoyed the hell out of it? I felt so good coming out that I did donuts in the parking lot, and sang at the top of my lungs with the top down.

I got home, and ate spaghetti-Os, and watched another movie, Towelhead, about a 13-year-old Lebanese American girl of mixed race, who is becoming sexually curious in the midst of a whirlwind of angry, selfish parents, racial stereotypes, attention from an inappropriate suitor and a lack of guidance from nearly everyone she trusts. This girl is learning everything by trial and error, and in the end, she’s still screwed up, but seems like she’ll be okay for all of it.

***The world can be a horrid place for children, and more times than not, it’s those closest to them who do the most damage. This girl’s parents and teacher are the most oblivious, each so stuck in their own problems to notice a girl becoming a woman and having to deal with a woman’s issues with the mind of a girl. The movie serves as an example of how no one is the ideal person, and even people who do things that are potentially detrimental to others aren’t evil to the core.

(This is a little different for me. It’s a real look at what I’m up to, no tricky prose techniques. Just me and what’s it’s been like to see life through eyes that have never seen such beauty as now. I hope you enjoy it.)

Sunday, Aug 23, 2009

Spent some time with Marlo and her nieces and nephews: Tera, Zach, Mackenzie and Kaleb. We went to Hueston Woods in Oxford, which is far as hell away from here. I got there early and sat in the car, thinking and enjoying the overcast day. I walked along the pier and found a huge branch, which I used to disturb the bottom of the lake, from the edge of the pier. It smelled like dead fish and crack, and it ruined a perfectly good stick. It pained me to leave it, but the stink on stick was too much.

The crew arrived and, after a bit of confusion as to where we were going to meet, I found them at the beach. The game from then on out was simply to see who’d get the wettest without having a change of clothes. That award went to Mackenzie, who, after doing cartwheels down into nearly full splits, but never touching the water, finally got the green light from Marlo, and took the plunge. Kaleb followed, while the rest of us remained in ankle-deep water. Tera seemed bent on getting me wet, dirty or both, and me being the type to not run from a fight, at least a mud fight, took it right back, and even offered Zach a ten-spot to fling his sister in. He didn’t (she ran, pretty fast in fact), and then pouted about it, in the dirt. She got over it, and was back on getting me messy. So, I finally gave in … and tossed her in. It was fun, till she grabbed two handfuls of sand to chase me with. I got tired of running and let her do her worst. We fed deer, against ranger’s orders, checked out wildlife exhibits, which all smelled worse than the zoo, and headed off for food.

Taco Bell, Arby’s and Pizza Hut. Options, yes, but which to choose? We went with pizza, despite grumbles from Tera. Marlo picked her up a taco pizza, which is sort of like splitting the difference, eh? Anyway, we go into Pizza Hut and the place is disgusting. We were sat at a table that didn’t even look bussed, the floor, seats and walls were hideous. Five minutes later, we were back at Taco Bell, because now all the kids wanted tacos, and Tera had yet to eat her food.

From there the adult picked Arby’s and we all sat in there, as it seems they knew what clean means a little bit. Ate that, then played in the parking lot as Marlo smoked a cigarette (she’d gone long enough without, she figured.) Oh, and Kaleb spilled his drink onto himself and Mackenzie, minutes after I countered Marlo’s thought to eat in the car. (She complained several times about how the kids would clean her dirty car, but there were more ashes than anything else in there …). Wet, dirty and pleased, we finally left the restaurant, but it wasn’t over yet. The kids wan had to bust ass to clean to a suitable level, but, I handled it, and I entertained the lot of them with Wii games, movies, snacks (I had more than they knew even; candy galore … we never got there tho).

I cracked open the old Gamecube for Kaleb, the 6-year-old, and the rest of the crew watched a sort of scary movie called Cold Prey, which was so formulaic it was hard to bear. Afterward, me, Tera and Zach played Burnout Paradise, a sweet lil racing game, till Zach’s brain fell asleep without informing his body, leaving him a giggling hiccupping mess. That’s when Marlo woke up and carted the lot of them home…

***Spending time with the children, and the vibrance of their youth breathed a little life into me. It reminded me that it’s okay to be silly, to do things you’ve never done, even if you know you’ll fail. I opened my heart a little that day, and a little bit of who I am resurfaced.

Hey all: Before I get to the meat of the post, I thought I’d settle a mental battle I’ve had with myself for some time now. The issue? Keeping the names straight between the actors, David Keith and Keith David. I could never be sure which was which, and judging by the entries on google, neither can a lot of other people…

Keith David, born on June 4, 1956, is the brother, who starred in all sorts of films (Platoon, John Carpenter’s “The Thing” and “They Live” are my two favs of his).

David Keith, born on May 8, 1954, is the actor who was the captain in the scene where Carl Brashear nearly loses his leg in “Men of Honor.” So there. If you get confused, me back to this page. Done and done. For me at least…

Sorry for the delay, but here is my mental music dump - which, to some of your disappointment I’m sure - ain’t nothing but my list of classic albums, some sleepers, some just so great as to deserve another mention…

- SWV: The New Beginning
This album for me took the group to the Pantheon of R&B groups. It’s totally solid, and some of the interludes needed four minutes to rock, instead of the seconds they got. Hits: You’re the One, Use Your Heart … Sleeper tracks: When This Feeling Comes, That’s What I’m Here For.

- Aya: Strange Flower
This sweet-sounding songstress flew under the radar, but the album, once you hear it never will. In the subcategory of ambient R&B, Aya feels like a soulful lullaby on most tracks, but never lapses too far into sleepy time to bore. She happens to sound a lot like Amel Larrieux, if you can hold that against her. Hits: Do What You Want, 45 Parade Place, Sleepers: all the rest, actually, since this whole album is a sleeper pick.

- Havana: Life: Living in Fearless Emotion
I stumbled across her while following the crumbs Aya left. Havana voice is angelic, if not a bit mousy at times. But it’s excusable with the on-point production on most of the songs, including the title track, with the beat laid down by Nicolay of Foreign Exchange (who is one of my favs of all time for beats, for real). Also of the ambient R&B genre, this album won’t raise your heart rate much, but it does strike a chord that feels good throughout. Hits: Yeah, Life. Other tracks of note: Feel My Love, True Luv.

Freeze fools, S to the 3rd is back. The last month has been a wild ride, and I’m not about to get into it all that much but to say that I’m truly better for it.

So what the hell I got to say? Nothing and a bit of everything, so just lemme dump some ill shit out my mind into this tiny corner of the world:

- I’m glad Michael Vick is back. Yeah, he fucked up some dogs, and let people down and that shit was wrong and evil, BUT, he went to jail, lost multimillions, and STILL has to kiss animal lovers asses for maybe the rest of his life, yet PETA still manages to use the publicity of his signing a deal to push their own causes? Let’s not go forgetting that the group is known for going to the edge to get pub (naked celebs on billboards? yeah, that’s a group practicing modesty). Will that stop hypocritical PETA people from fuckin with him all season? Nope. He made this bed, yes, but there is such a thing as beating a dead horse. You think PETA, of all organizations, would know this.

- It’s NFL time, boys and girls! And I’m freakin ready for it. Even though in this space you’ll read a bunch of pity shit about my hometown Browns team, I’m still glad to watch some games. I might even buy a Madden videogame for the first time in years … might.

- I am not a journalist. I am a writer. Journalism kills the urge to write. Thankfully, it also kills careers … namely mine. I’m not mad. Well, I’m mad at just this one thing: The fact that businesses make you swear a blood oath to stay in a spot, all the while knowing that they’ll cut your ass at a moments pause. That’s bullshit for sho. Turncoat ass shit, and yet we lie. We all lie. They lie, we lie, and it’s like a relationship where both people have cheated, and neither trusts the other and - like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie at the dinner table in Mr. and Mrs. Smith - it’s only one bad move away from somebody getting fucked up.

- Don’t fuck with the eBay gods, or they will fuck you dead. I nearly bought a motorcycle. I was the high bid for days, and then, right when my wallet was screaming HELP ME, someone outbid me, sparing me the personal torment. I love eBay. It’s been a blast discovering this wildly exciting site, but I mocked the Gods, and they showed me that eBay is not child’s play. But, like a fool at the roulette wheel, I’ll return for more … heh heh heh…