Just Stop Picking At It!

I don’t love Star Wars anymore.  To be honest with you, I don’t think I like it much anymore, either.  I’m  really not one of those superfans.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’ve watched the original trilogy more than my fair share of times.  But, I don’t get my panties in a bunch when Lucas makes changes to the movies.  I really didn’t give a shit if Greedo shot first.  Or that the Emperor’s verbiage was changed in The Empire Strikes Back.  To be honest, most of the changes Lucas had made I’ve kinda liked and made sense to me.  Purists are purist, though.  So…whatever.

I admit I saw Phantom Menace 10 times in the theaters.  Between the pod race and the fight scene with Darth Maul?  Man!  That shit kept me coming back, even if the rest of the movie was way on this side of weak.  I also saw the two movies that followed.  They sucked.  Really.  The fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan at the end of Revenge of the Sith?  Meh.  The fight with Maul in Phantom Menace was by far better.  Hell, the fight between Luke and Vader at the end of Jedi was better than Anakin/Obiwan’s duel.  But, that’s neither here or there. 
The problem as I see it is all the shit that’s come after the first trilogy.  It’s all become so watered down.  Diluted, if you will.  And you will.  We had the prequels.  The Clone Wars animated movie.  Now we have the Clone Wars series, the re-re-re-releases of the original trilogy, the endless parade of toys and merchandise.  I swear Lucas is worse than Gene Simmons.
George is like the painter who can’t walk away from a painting.  I do the same thing with these articles.  I can keep going back to make changes if I wanted to.  Every one I publish, I could go back at any point in time and make a change.  And often times do.  I know.  I know.  I’m just a random, nameless dude.  I don’t have zillions, I don’t have a lucrative deal with any toy companies, so what the hell do I know?  But, a wise man once said…some things are done in their undoneness.  Or, in the immortal words of Kenny Loggins…”You gotta know when to hold them.  Know when to fold them.  Know when to walk away.  Know when to run.”
I agree with the guy who wrote this article.  It’s too late for Star Wars.  Even if George were to walk away right now, it’s done.  Over.  The only way this thing could’ve been saved was for it to go away.  For a long time.  Think back with me…Return of the Jedi came out in 1983.  The buzz for Jedi probably lasted a year or two afterward.  And besides some random mentions over the years, Star Wars really didn’t come back into pop culture til 1995ish?  That’s a good 10 years under the radar. That’s half a generation.   But, it’s too late.  And, hey, if you’re thinking reboot…you’re wrong.  Not gonna change a single thing.  This isn’t Star Trek.
So, do us all a favor…go away Star Wars.  Go away for a really long time.

Thank God for: Power

I love power.  Man!  Do I love power.  There’s nothing like it.  Where the hell would we be without it?  And the thing is, we all take it for granted.  All of us.  It’s not until it’s gone do you get an inkling what it means to you.  Us.  The planet.  It’s not until your 6 hours into only the big guy know’s how long of a hurricane Irene stretch that you realize how much you rely on electricity.  Awwww…who am I kidding?  6 hours?  Ha!  Six seconds after the house lost power, I was wondering what the hell I was gonna do until this shit passed.

I don’t know what it is about where I live.  But, whenever it starts to drizzle, I lose electricity.  I shit you not.  Ok…maybe that was a bit of a stretcher, but it’s not far from the truth, either.  I lost power around 10:00 on Saturday night.  The friggin hurricane had barely started and I lost power.  WTF?  It’s like the power saw the storm coming and said, “Fuck it.  I’m outta here.”  Talk about fight or flight.  What’s even funnier is how the power went out.  It flickered for a few moments.  Like, it thought about it for a second…maybe I’ll stay on, the storm IS just starting to hit…nah.  I’m out.
                                           It felt like at this point that my power went out
It wasn’t like there was this huge accident.  Or a bolt of lightening.  Or anything like that.  Just flickered out.  Any other time, there’s some theatrics.  A transformer blowing.  Someone hitting a power pole.  Something like that.  Not this time.  Nope.  Just a little bit of wind and….POOF.  I’m starin’ down the barrel of no internets.
                                                           No.  Not that type of transformer
And what really annoys the shit outta me?  No, it’s not that the Pope had power and he lives five minutes away.  Or that the folks had power and they live 10 minutes away.  Or that every one else in beautiful Ben Salom had power.  It was the fact that half my block still had power.  They had power two houses down.  TWO HOUSES DOWN!
Oh…I can’t forget the salt in the wound.  No friggin power until Sunday afternoon.  Look…don’t get me wrong.  I ain’t bitchin.  The house got out of this storm relatively unscathed.  And I give my complete and utter thanks to the techs that got my power restored.  If I knew who they were, I’d write them all a check for at least a grand each.  Fortunately for me, I don’t know who they are…so an all around appreciation of their fine work is what I’ll give.
What I’m pointing out is that laughter in the background.  If you listen carefully, you’ll hear it as you read this.  It’s a slight stifle of a giggle.  Shhhhhhhh! 
There it is!
Yep. That’s the big guy just poking a little fun at your friendly neighborhood Jman.  Not enough to make me miserable, but enough to let me know he’s got a sense of humor.
Anyway…my point here is this:  After not having TV, the microwave, the internets, FIOS, air conditioning, and every other one of our wonderful modern conveniences for 18 odd hours, it really makes you appreciate electricity.  And all it does for us.  So, lets thank the big guy for letting Ben Franklin discover electricity.  Cause I sure did miss Facebook last night.
PS…do yourself a solid.  When you do an internet search for the song “Come on Eileen”, make sure you spell the word “Come” correctly.  Otherwise, you’ll never think of that stupid song the same way again.  Hey.  Don’t blame the messenger.  I’m just sayin’…

And we’re off to the vet. Again. Pt2

Pt 1 here.  Carry on for Pt2…

Great, back to the vet.  But…were not really talking the vet here.  No.  We’re talking the 24 hour emergency hospital for animals, aka…Center for Animal Referral and Emergency  Services  or Cares(Yea.  That’s right.  I just plugged the shit out of them.  Maybe for the mention I’ll get a 2% discount on my next visit.  Which should be any second now).   The place just sounds expensive, doesn’t it?  Well, believe you me, it ain’t cheap.  How do I know?  Oh…forgive me.  I didn’t mention that’s where I had to take the dog for his bad eye?  No?  How silly of me.  Yea.  The dog has to see a specialist for the eye. Cause his normal vet (ie cheap vet) doesn’t deal with eyeballs.  And where does the specialist reside?  Yep.  You guessed it.



Funny thing is?  I had to take the dog there that very night for a follow up visit for his eye.  GREAT!!!!!  Double visits.  Might as well start depositing money right into Cares bank  account.  “Alright.”  I sighed, running my hands through my hair. “Alright.”

“How are you going to get him in the car?” Kelly Marie asked, getting up.

“I don’t know.”  I looked around.  “I guess I’ll just wrap him up in a blanket.”

“Ok”.  Kelly Marie said getting up.  “I’ll go start the car.”

I went to scoop him up.  The cry he let out. Ugh.  It was like pinching a baby.  Not that I would know the sound a baby makes when you pinch them.  This was not good.  I quickly picked him up and wrapped him as best I could.  The dog cried the whole way to the car.  I laid him on the front seat and headed back inside to get my phone.

                                                 Pinch, pinch, pinch

“Babe…”  Kelly Marie called out from behind me.  “He’s trying to get off the seat.

My mind paused for a moment.  Just a moment.  It was a flash.  A quick…What?  For your benefit, though, let’s just call it a bit of foreshadowing.  Because, although I didn’t, I really should’ve seen it as such.  “Ok.”  My mind again racing, I put it my shit back into gear and ran into the house.  “I’ll grab his carrier.  He’s just gonna have to travel in there.”  What dog doesn’t go nuts in a car, right?  But, whatever was going on with the dog…I didn’t want him entertaining any notions of crazy car travel.

I threw the carrier in the back seat, and gingerly picked up the dog.  He cried as I stuffed him as best I could into the carrier.  “Alright.”  I muttered.

“Let me know what happens.”  Kelly Marie said, giving me a quick kiss goodbye.

“I will.”  I pulled out of the driveway and high tailed it to the hospital.  This dog ain’t dying on my watch.

I checked the dog in at the front desk of Cares.  “I had an appointment for Snowflake later today.  But…when I came home for lunch today, I found him on the floor not moving.”  I said in a slight panic to the receptionist behind the iMac, which at any other point in time probably would’ve given me a raging hard on.  The iMac.  Not the receptionist.

                                           27inches of pure computer porn

“Ok.”  She said.  “I’ll get someone from triage out here.”

Triage?  All the sudden I’m at the 4077th? Is it going to be Hawkeye?  Honeycutt?  God…please don’t let it be Winchester.  He’s a total snob!  I scanned the room quickly to see if there were any other morons here on their lunches with their mangled mutts.  Nope!  Just me.  A nurse walked out through double doors behind me.  “Snowflake?”  She asked heading in my direction.  

“Hi.”  I offered a weak smile.  I explained the story again, the nurse listening intently.

“Ok.  Well, let’s take a look.”  She said opening the door to the carrier.

And the dog ran out.

But wait!  There’s more…

Cherry Pie

I know this is kinda old news, and I really had no intention of commenting on it.  I mean, don’t get me wrong.  It is a sad story.  And we all gotta meet the big guy at some point, I suppose.  On the way home from work, though, I heard the song “Cherry Pie” Jani Lane wrote/performed with Warrant.  Back in 2006, he did an interview for VH1’s Heavy:  The Story of Metal about the song.  And now, every time I hear Cherry Pie, I think of that interview. 

Now before all you high brow, better than thou, music snobs out there with your beady little eyes go off thinking I’m dissing Cherry Pie, you are sadly mistaken.  It’s a great freakin’ song!  To this day.  It’s got to be in my top 1541 songs of all time.  Let me just remind you that it reached number 10 on the Rock charts.  And…AND…it was named #56 on VH1’s 100 top rock songs of all time!  In 2009, nonetheless!  Now if that doesn’t lend any credence to me liking Cherry Pie, then nothing will!  So, yea…I admit it.  A young, mullet haired me totally rocked out to:  “…Swingin’ in the livin’ room.  Swingin’ in the kitchen.  Most folks don’t cause their too busy bitchin’” (BTW…for those of you who don’t understand euphemisms or innuendos…”Swingin” is a metaphor for “fornicating”.  FYI.).
As for said interview…
Man!  How fucking sad is that?  The dude HATED the song.  HATED IT!  Can you imagine being known for the rest of your days for something you hate?  Well…I guess when I put it that way, most of us can.  But, not on this level.  Not where a good portion of the population knows you from a popular raunchy song you penned/recorded/performed almost 2 decades prior.  And now?  All’s us hasbeens, who are just trying to regain our lost youth, want to hear from you is…Cherry Pie.  God!  That must really suck.  Playing that stupid song over and over again.  Night after night.  No one wants to hear the new shit.  Just play the hits.  Cherry Pie!!!
I saw Jani Lane retracted that statement in a later interview.  Saying, at the time of the first interview, he was going thru a bitter divorce.  And his comments were taken out of context.  All of which I don’t doubt.  But, clearly, the dude hated the song.  Which, is kinda sad.  It’s not a bad song.  Kinda epitomizes the era.  Believe me, I cranked it when it came on.  In my mini van.  Yea…that’s right.  Mini van. 
Whatever.  ”I’m a trained professional.”

Repost: My boy’s first April Fool’s Prank

originally published 4/2009

I’m not what you call a “morning” person. Truth be told, I’m not what you would call an “afternoon” or a “night” person, either. But, that’s a tale for another day. I give myself enough time in the morning to get ready and get the crüe up and running for the day. Besides, if I got up any earlier, I might as well not even go to bed. Maybe that’s why I’m not such a morning person.

Who the fuck does, Garfield?

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