I'm a thinker. I can't stop doing it. I have insomnia and most of it is because I can't stop thinking. When I was about 15 I figured out that my parents couldn't/wouldn't help me with my sleeping problems so one of the methods I looked into was biofeedback aka self-hypnosis.
What does this have to do with anything? My background is business so when I'm in a business I'm wondering what their profit margin is, what are their hidden revenue streams, what can they do to increase profitability, and of course the ever popular etc.
Since I'm going to a gym more often lately I'm observing it and how it works. How a business works and runs is fascinating to me, a well run business is very much a living and breathing organism. A bad employee is very much a virus that you hope doesn't infect the others; I assume you can think of the other analogies.
I have one major problem with watching this gym and wondering how it could be improved; I have no clue about the business side of it. I don't know much about lifting weights but I know more about that than how a gym operates on the business side. I've been going there enough that I don't mind saying "Hi" and such to the people there (I'm really pretty shy) and I have to restrain myself to not pump them for information about the business model and numbers.
Today I saw something that my background was screaming to be wrong. All of the personal trainers had a picture of themselves on the wall with information about them (I couldn't read it because of the distance) that I assume was things like where they got their training and such. One of the trainers is a young and attractive lady, the picture had her full name. I know that topless bars are a bit different and stalkers are a bit more common there but all I could think of was the possible danger. In the clubs we encouraged the dancers to use a stage name and when the customer asked them for their real name to give a different fake one. I know that businesses in the real world look at things differently but is the full name (for any of the trainers) really needed?
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Friday, November 29, 2013
Something to scare yourself with.
I remember the day I closed on my second property, that gave my partner and I a total of six rental units. I was working nights at that club and I clearly remember walking in, sitting down, and telling a day shift manager that I was barely 30 and in debt to the tune of a quarter million.
Now, close on a house, buy a car, spend thousands on something in a day and I don't even blink. Partly that is numbness and partly that is maturity. Will it help if I start hyperventilating? Nope, so why should I?
Want to have fun? Find an old payroll stub or check register, old as in a decade ago or more. Look at the numbers and either figure out how you survived on that money then. Or if your income hasn't gone up scare yourself with trying to figure out why.
Now, close on a house, buy a car, spend thousands on something in a day and I don't even blink. Partly that is numbness and partly that is maturity. Will it help if I start hyperventilating? Nope, so why should I?
Want to have fun? Find an old payroll stub or check register, old as in a decade ago or more. Look at the numbers and either figure out how you survived on that money then. Or if your income hasn't gone up scare yourself with trying to figure out why.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Another bar story.
The reason why I don't expect or not expect a tip from a customer based on their appearance is because I learned a long time ago that you can't judge a book by it's cover.
One restaurant I worked at the bar stayed open while the restaurant closed between 2 and 5 everyday. Right before 2 a waiter comes up to me asks me to take this couple because he "knows" that they will be there for hours and they probably won't tip anyway so could I get them.
This waiter was from the Middle East and pretty set in his ways, I didn't want to rock the boat (I was the FNG) so I said sure. Even if he doesn't tip I'm still making drinks. It was still fun back then.
This was almost 20 years ago and I still remember what he drank (Grand Marnier in a snifter, neat of course) I don't remember what the lady drank but that didn't matter because he never brought in the same lady twice. He was also from England. He's black and from England, all of the waitstaff thought he didn't tip for either of those reasons. I wasn't sweating the tip, I was just having fun with the couple. Guess how the story ends. He tipped so very well I remember his face, his drink, and his wife almost 20 years later.
Every time he came in I would try to wait on him, and his lady (always a white lady) of the day. Once he came in with a black lady and while she goes into the restroom he stops me and tells me that he's never been here before. No sweat. I remember that tip very clearly.
One restaurant I worked at the bar stayed open while the restaurant closed between 2 and 5 everyday. Right before 2 a waiter comes up to me asks me to take this couple because he "knows" that they will be there for hours and they probably won't tip anyway so could I get them.
This waiter was from the Middle East and pretty set in his ways, I didn't want to rock the boat (I was the FNG) so I said sure. Even if he doesn't tip I'm still making drinks. It was still fun back then.
This was almost 20 years ago and I still remember what he drank (Grand Marnier in a snifter, neat of course) I don't remember what the lady drank but that didn't matter because he never brought in the same lady twice. He was also from England. He's black and from England, all of the waitstaff thought he didn't tip for either of those reasons. I wasn't sweating the tip, I was just having fun with the couple. Guess how the story ends. He tipped so very well I remember his face, his drink, and his wife almost 20 years later.
Every time he came in I would try to wait on him, and his lady (always a white lady) of the day. Once he came in with a black lady and while she goes into the restroom he stops me and tells me that he's never been here before. No sweat. I remember that tip very clearly.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Blogs.
Their is a blog I read periodically called http://thebitchywaiter.com/, he's awesome. Blogs and comics I ignore and then get caught up on on a monthly basis or so. I've ignored Bitchy for awhile and skimmed through for a bit. I noticed that he has a group of blogs either that he reads or he just likes.
For the most part they all deal with the F&B industry. Oddly enough, I do miss the... rush... insanity? I don't know what to call it really. Reading some of these blogs will let me vicariously live in the restaurants again. Truly I would like to find a nightclub or topless bar blog to really sink my teeth into but I haven't yet. Of course I haven't really tried that hard.
Hearing about some blogger complaining about a customer just makes my day complete or something. Here's a story from when I worked in a restaurant.
A lot of servers have superstitions about who will and who will not tip. When you actually listen to the servers you realize that many of them say everyone except older white businessmen don't tip. I learned early on in my "career" that is not true but some people don't want to learn. Anyway, one restaurant wasn't in the greatest area and my servers were playing their version of "Bingo".
A waiter (white guy) came up to me and said he was the first to have bingo for the night and his shift only started ten minutes ago. What's bingo mean? When a whole table is full of black people. If we weren't on the floor I probably would have yelled at him. I didn't yell, I just told him that he can't do that. My reasons were simple:
1. It's wrong.
2. Some people tip, some don't. If you expect them to not tip then they probably won't.
3. Probably illegal.
4. This company will fire your ass for something like this.
While I'm telling him this a waitress (black lady) comes up and says that she has "Blackout Bingo" already. What the hell is "Blackout Bingo"? That's when every seat at every table has a black person in it. That's when I felt the headache starting. I told both servers that I don't want to hear anymore about the game and walked away from them.
The waiter was a pretty good one but I wouldn't trust him with a shiny quarter. The waitress was pretty bad but I actually miss her, she had a sense of humor like mine. If you're an attractive woman you can say things that I can't.
For the most part they all deal with the F&B industry. Oddly enough, I do miss the... rush... insanity? I don't know what to call it really. Reading some of these blogs will let me vicariously live in the restaurants again. Truly I would like to find a nightclub or topless bar blog to really sink my teeth into but I haven't yet. Of course I haven't really tried that hard.
Hearing about some blogger complaining about a customer just makes my day complete or something. Here's a story from when I worked in a restaurant.
A lot of servers have superstitions about who will and who will not tip. When you actually listen to the servers you realize that many of them say everyone except older white businessmen don't tip. I learned early on in my "career" that is not true but some people don't want to learn. Anyway, one restaurant wasn't in the greatest area and my servers were playing their version of "Bingo".
A waiter (white guy) came up to me and said he was the first to have bingo for the night and his shift only started ten minutes ago. What's bingo mean? When a whole table is full of black people. If we weren't on the floor I probably would have yelled at him. I didn't yell, I just told him that he can't do that. My reasons were simple:
1. It's wrong.
2. Some people tip, some don't. If you expect them to not tip then they probably won't.
3. Probably illegal.
4. This company will fire your ass for something like this.
While I'm telling him this a waitress (black lady) comes up and says that she has "Blackout Bingo" already. What the hell is "Blackout Bingo"? That's when every seat at every table has a black person in it. That's when I felt the headache starting. I told both servers that I don't want to hear anymore about the game and walked away from them.
The waiter was a pretty good one but I wouldn't trust him with a shiny quarter. The waitress was pretty bad but I actually miss her, she had a sense of humor like mine. If you're an attractive woman you can say things that I can't.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Marketing.
I'm fascinated with marketing. Not the typical radio/print/tv stuff but the low-cost high return stuff. We get up today and we have no hot water. Not good. I call a plumber and his receptionist asks details about the problem and where I live.
She calls the plumber and explains to him the problem and she calls me back. She says that in our subdivision he's seen that problem come up quite a bit and here's how you fix it (hit the hidden reset button). I did and it works. Did he charge us? Nope. Could he have come out and charged us for an hour of labor to fix it? Yepper.
Who do you think I'll call for a real problem? He lost whatever his hourly fee is but he gained a customer. Would you spend up to $100 for a customer? That's what most marketing projects do. Maybe the print/tv/radio people say it works because if they say it enough then people will believe it.
She calls the plumber and explains to him the problem and she calls me back. She says that in our subdivision he's seen that problem come up quite a bit and here's how you fix it (hit the hidden reset button). I did and it works. Did he charge us? Nope. Could he have come out and charged us for an hour of labor to fix it? Yepper.
Who do you think I'll call for a real problem? He lost whatever his hourly fee is but he gained a customer. Would you spend up to $100 for a customer? That's what most marketing projects do. Maybe the print/tv/radio people say it works because if they say it enough then people will believe it.
Oh, Crappydoodle.
It's Sunday and as everyone knows the kids go back to school on Monday. I tell my kids to get their clothes ready for school tomorrow. Tomorrow's not a school day says the oldest. Pardon? I check in the little calender that I don't really pay attention to. Son of a Bitch. The kids are off the whole week.
What the hell am I going to do with three kids? I'm going to go freaking insane. The temperature is in the thirties for most of the week so we can't go on much of a bike ride. I'm printing out some worksheets for them to have some "homework" so they don't lose their "edge". Elementary school is pretty hardcore in our house.
The gym I go to has a daycare with a two hour limit. If I go for two hours and drive around the block can I go back for another two hours? Supposedly we are going to have sleet and freezing rain manana, I don't care. I'm getting out of this house and that daycare worker at the gym doesn't know what's going to hit her.
What the hell am I going to do with three kids? I'm going to go freaking insane. The temperature is in the thirties for most of the week so we can't go on much of a bike ride. I'm printing out some worksheets for them to have some "homework" so they don't lose their "edge". Elementary school is pretty hardcore in our house.
The gym I go to has a daycare with a two hour limit. If I go for two hours and drive around the block can I go back for another two hours? Supposedly we are going to have sleet and freezing rain manana, I don't care. I'm getting out of this house and that daycare worker at the gym doesn't know what's going to hit her.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Weddings.
My post yesterday was about weddings and I thought that it might be nice to expand on that topic. When I worked at the hotel I probably worked close to two hundred weddings. I've been to a few as either guest, groomsman or groom also. Some of the things I've learned are pretty basic and some are more profound.
The wedding is designed by people and it has people in it, it will NOT be perfect. Deal with it. The saying is the more things wrong with your wedding then the longer you will be married. Additionally, it's "your day", that means the focus should be on the bride; that does not mean that you can be a spoiled little princess. Again, deal with it.
Some do's and don'ts: If you schedule the wedding around a meal time then you should feed the guests. No matter what time you schedule it put in the invitation what will be there to eat (buffet, appetizers, plated, etc.). Expect the unexpected; it will rain, there will be mud. Groomsmen have it somewhat easy, we rent a tux or suit and show up sober, then we get to hang out with some attractive lady that wants to get out of an ugly dress. The bridesmaids on the other hand seem to be cursed with crap. Rare are the attractive bridesmaid dresses. These dresses are bought not rented; pick out a dress that can be used again. If the bride is short and doesn't want to be the shortest lady there have them wear ballet slippers, not be barefoot (seen that, that bride was spoiled littleprincess bitch). Don't expect your bridesmaid to cover a tattoo just because it's your wedding; if she's enough of your friend for you to ask then you shouldn't mind her ink. Do have fun.
For you parents, it's not your wedding. Even if you're paying for everything it's still not your wedding. If the bride or groom wants to do something then do it. If you think that your child isn't mature enough to make the right decision for their wedding then maybe you didn't raise them right. Deal with it, let them do their own thing and if you want to pick up the tab do it. If not then you need to let them know in advance.
There are so many other things I've seen but they don't really matter. It's a day, one day. Your marriage is supposed to be for eternity. Do the wedding and save your energy for the marriage.
Some do's and don'ts: If you schedule the wedding around a meal time then you should feed the guests. No matter what time you schedule it put in the invitation what will be there to eat (buffet, appetizers, plated, etc.). Expect the unexpected; it will rain, there will be mud. Groomsmen have it somewhat easy, we rent a tux or suit and show up sober, then we get to hang out with some attractive lady that wants to get out of an ugly dress. The bridesmaids on the other hand seem to be cursed with crap. Rare are the attractive bridesmaid dresses. These dresses are bought not rented; pick out a dress that can be used again. If the bride is short and doesn't want to be the shortest lady there have them wear ballet slippers, not be barefoot (seen that, that bride was spoiled little
For you parents, it's not your wedding. Even if you're paying for everything it's still not your wedding. If the bride or groom wants to do something then do it. If you think that your child isn't mature enough to make the right decision for their wedding then maybe you didn't raise them right. Deal with it, let them do their own thing and if you want to pick up the tab do it. If not then you need to let them know in advance.
There are so many other things I've seen but they don't really matter. It's a day, one day. Your marriage is supposed to be for eternity. Do the wedding and save your energy for the marriage.
What to do on a Friday night.
7:30 PM Friday night it's about 35 degrees Fahrenheit and the wind is blowing the rain into our faces. What are we doing? We're going to a wedding, of course. I used to work in a hotel that did wedding quite often and including the ones I've worked the number of weddings I've been to could be measured in the hundreds. Because of this I've learned some things about weddings and receptions. Maybe I'll write about that tomorrow.
There is a bit of "old wives tales" that say the more things wrong at your wedding means the longer you will be married. If that's true then my wife and I should be married for quite a bit. I didn't notice anything wrong at this wedding, but I wasn't given a BEO (Banquet Event Order, common in the catering/banquet industry) to verify that.
Bad luck or not, congratulations to the bride and groom.
Bad luck or not, congratulations to the bride and groom.
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Shoes.
I'm rough on shoes, very rough. My wife and I are at the gym and she sees my shoes and tells me I need to buy some more. I don't really think I need more shoes but then I can relegate these to "lawn" shoes and get some better ones for bike riding or in the gym. There's an outlet mall near us so I bundle up a minion and we go.
Three stores that sell shoes. You know what size I wear? 10.5 triple wide. Just give me the damn box and paint it black. At one store it only had dress shoes, something to keep in mind but not what I'm looking for now. One didn't have any wide or extra wide widths; they did but the guy that worked there said to not get them if I plan on using them instead of just looking cool. The third store had wide shoes but they were not something I would wear. I dress rather...somber, professional, basic. Those are all good descriptions of my style, except for ties though.
I have a friend that always has problems getting cute bras that fit her. She is some bigger size like 32DD or 34GG or some big combination of letters and numbers and I remember her complaining (on more than one occasion) about the lack of bra selection in her size. I have the same problem in shoes, if I find shoes that fit then they look like a crackhead on acid painted them.
Three stores that sell shoes. You know what size I wear? 10.5 triple wide. Just give me the damn box and paint it black. At one store it only had dress shoes, something to keep in mind but not what I'm looking for now. One didn't have any wide or extra wide widths; they did but the guy that worked there said to not get them if I plan on using them instead of just looking cool. The third store had wide shoes but they were not something I would wear. I dress rather...somber, professional, basic. Those are all good descriptions of my style, except for ties though.
I have a friend that always has problems getting cute bras that fit her. She is some bigger size like 32DD or 34GG or some big combination of letters and numbers and I remember her complaining (on more than one occasion) about the lack of bra selection in her size. I have the same problem in shoes, if I find shoes that fit then they look like a crackhead on acid painted them.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
A little bit of truth.
I told her I don't use the big words anymore. It's true, my brain cells are not getting the workout they need. When I ride my bike I talk to myself because I need the practice talking to an adult. Is being a stay at home dad fun? Hell yes. Is it scary as hell and a bit mind numbing at times? Even more so.
To all you stay at home parents, have a shot (alcohol or caffeine) and think of me. You have to make it quick because you know that one of your kids is destroying something as soon as you turn around.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Good weather again.
I went to the gym to lift weights and to do that damn cardio when I see a guy jogging. That made me realize that the weather is nice enough to ride and it hasn't rained lately so I should be able to go riding on the trails.
I go to the gym and do calves and arms then I go home and get ready for the ride. I take the trailer off the bike, check the tires, and jump on my bike. It's a half mile to the trails and I'm loosening up on the way over there, stretching and zig zagging on the road to limber up. Then I hit the dirt, I go through some of the dips and depressions left over from where trucks got stuck in the mud and then it's my first downhill flight.
WOOHOO.
If you don't ride, you might not understand. Let's just say it was a blast. When I'm going downhill I still pedal because I need that speed to go back uphill; unfortunately, a lot of the downhill parts do a hairpin turn to go uphill. Fun choice, brake and lose speed or go full tilt and possibly lose control and break something important.
As the mountain bike people put it "Chicks think scars are sexy." I know what I'm going to start doing from now on.
I go to the gym and do calves and arms then I go home and get ready for the ride. I take the trailer off the bike, check the tires, and jump on my bike. It's a half mile to the trails and I'm loosening up on the way over there, stretching and zig zagging on the road to limber up. Then I hit the dirt, I go through some of the dips and depressions left over from where trucks got stuck in the mud and then it's my first downhill flight.
WOOHOO.
If you don't ride, you might not understand. Let's just say it was a blast. When I'm going downhill I still pedal because I need that speed to go back uphill; unfortunately, a lot of the downhill parts do a hairpin turn to go uphill. Fun choice, brake and lose speed or go full tilt and possibly lose control and break something important.
As the mountain bike people put it "Chicks think scars are sexy." I know what I'm going to start doing from now on.
Monday, November 18, 2013
I was punked today.
I went to the gym today so I could show some racks of iron that I was their boss. I have big calves and I like doing legs so I was doing calf raises.
I don't know what my maximum is but last week I started with 90 pounds so I figured I would start with 130 pounds today. I do declining ladders; that means that I did ten reps and dropped ten pounds and did 12 reps dropped ten more and did 14 all the way down to 70 pounds. My calves are shaking and I decided to give them a break and do some arms for awhile.
I'm doing my declining ladder on arms and I see a guy doing leg lifts and then calf raises with 270 pounds. My eyes aren't the greatest so I finished my set and waited for him to finish his. I struck up a conversation with about calf raises.
He seems to be in his 70's, then he said that he had a grandson who was almost my age. I'm 43, does that mean that this guy is pushing 80? Son of a bitch. This 80 year old guy just punked me out by doing almost 300 pounds in calf raises. Son of a bitch, he was doing twice what I was doing.
I have a new goal. And a competitor.
I don't know what my maximum is but last week I started with 90 pounds so I figured I would start with 130 pounds today. I do declining ladders; that means that I did ten reps and dropped ten pounds and did 12 reps dropped ten more and did 14 all the way down to 70 pounds. My calves are shaking and I decided to give them a break and do some arms for awhile.
I'm doing my declining ladder on arms and I see a guy doing leg lifts and then calf raises with 270 pounds. My eyes aren't the greatest so I finished my set and waited for him to finish his. I struck up a conversation with about calf raises.
He seems to be in his 70's, then he said that he had a grandson who was almost my age. I'm 43, does that mean that this guy is pushing 80? Son of a bitch. This 80 year old guy just punked me out by doing almost 300 pounds in calf raises. Son of a bitch, he was doing twice what I was doing.
I have a new goal. And a competitor.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Another Quickie.
Yesterday I went to a class for my new career. Today I took the last 10 hours of it. I have no background in the banking or finance industry so there is a lot "What?" "What reg of what act?". I'm learning stuff but I feel like these other people are talking a different language.
I was in real estate sales for a very short time so that training does help when talking about some things, but a lot of it is a completely new world to me. The learning stuff is a blast but the second guessing part bites.
One of the chapters in the textbook deals with mathematics. No sweat, the business deals with numbers a lot so that makes sense. Then I actually looked at the stuff they were teaching, how to convert a decimal to a percentage. Okay, someone might have been taught change and not convert so the difference in teaching styles could make a difference. I understand there could be an issue there, but why do they have to teach adults how to add or subtract decimals? Remember, we're talking about money mainly, 0.568-0.236 is typical of the math in this section.
Actually, now that I think about it, the fact that a remedial lesson was needed is okay. The groans of some people (because they couldn't wrap their head around it) with this remedial math was my major issue.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Quickie Commercial.
This will be fast because I'm in school and I need to go to sleep.
Picture this, two kids are playing "Guitar Hero". It's a nice house and the kids are really getting into it. Very competitive as only preteen kids can be. The kids get into an argument about who is better, then it goes to the my father can beat your father stage. One father comes in to find out what the arguing is about. The kids tell him and he says that he wouldn't mind a competition between the two dads. The next day the kid brings over his father, who is some 50 year old guy with long hair in a pony tail. The two fathers play and the long haired guy wins without a problem. The losing father says it was "Nice to finally meet you Mr. Malsteen". Then they start talking about the fun of raising kids while the kids go back to playing the game.
Subtle. Rockers and guitarists would get it.
Picture this, two kids are playing "Guitar Hero". It's a nice house and the kids are really getting into it. Very competitive as only preteen kids can be. The kids get into an argument about who is better, then it goes to the my father can beat your father stage. One father comes in to find out what the arguing is about. The kids tell him and he says that he wouldn't mind a competition between the two dads. The next day the kid brings over his father, who is some 50 year old guy with long hair in a pony tail. The two fathers play and the long haired guy wins without a problem. The losing father says it was "Nice to finally meet you Mr. Malsteen". Then they start talking about the fun of raising kids while the kids go back to playing the game.
Subtle. Rockers and guitarists would get it.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Story of my Father.
Years ago my parents went to an auction. They didn't know the auctioneer, they just wanted to look at some piece of furniture. For them that could have been a date night. We were all old enough that they could have stayed out late if they wanted to. They didn't.
My mother didn't say the auctioneer was bad and my father didn't say he was good so that implies that he was just average. At the end of the auction the auctioneer asked the crowd if anyone wanted to sell a piece. One person put his hand in the air, my father. For those of you that don't know, he was an auctioneer and he was a better than average one.
He goes up to the front and he starts slow, ten dollars here fifteen dollars here. He does that for less than five minutes and then he goes into his "rattle". From what I was told the crowd kind of jumped, he went from slow and halting to machine gun fast in a few seconds. He sold a few items for fun and they left.
Being an auctioneer was fun for my father, it even supported his family of seven. My earliest fun memories are doing the auctions when I was young. And yes, I do often think about learning how to do the rattle.
My mother didn't say the auctioneer was bad and my father didn't say he was good so that implies that he was just average. At the end of the auction the auctioneer asked the crowd if anyone wanted to sell a piece. One person put his hand in the air, my father. For those of you that don't know, he was an auctioneer and he was a better than average one.
He goes up to the front and he starts slow, ten dollars here fifteen dollars here. He does that for less than five minutes and then he goes into his "rattle". From what I was told the crowd kind of jumped, he went from slow and halting to machine gun fast in a few seconds. He sold a few items for fun and they left.
Being an auctioneer was fun for my father, it even supported his family of seven. My earliest fun memories are doing the auctions when I was young. And yes, I do often think about learning how to do the rattle.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Frivolity.
Like the title says , this will be a frivolous posting. I do think that sometimes we need a little silliness. Walking is optional on that.
My two year old loves Babar (the elephant tv show), so periodically it is on the tv. Yeah, simpering and well meaning crap. At least Emily the Strange has a really catchy theme song. If I want to watch something (when the kids are in bed) I'll go for a comedy; lately I've been watching "How I met your Mother". I can't stand Ted but the show is great anyway.
Watching the two shows so close to each other has made me realize something. Simply put, before Babar left the city he used to hang out with Barney. Consider the evidence:
1. Barney needed a wingman, which is how he met Ted, because I believe that Babar had to quickly leave the city.
2. Only in New York would an elephant go unnoticed for so long.
3. Only in New York could you find a tailor that could dress an elephant.
3a. Okay, and Thailand.
4. Babar always wears a suit.
5. When Babar came into the city he found an older (slim and rather attractive if you go for the dowager look) wealthy woman to support him. Quite possibly using a play from the "Playbook".
6. Babar used his crown to marry a hottie (by elephant standards).
7. Ted isn't up to Babar's skill level which is why Barney is always disappointed.
8. Barney uses his royal contacts (Babar) to keep his job.
9. Barney's fear of guns is because of the story of how Babar's mother died, it was that moving.
10. When the tailor tried to sell Babar an ugly suit it's the only time you see the elephant get annoyed.
11. When Babar has problems with the rhinos he always has a plan. Just like Barney.
You may think this is odd but I'm willing to bet that some of you are thinking that it makes sense. And it's frivolous. And Awesome.
Watching the two shows so close to each other has made me realize something. Simply put, before Babar left the city he used to hang out with Barney. Consider the evidence:
1. Barney needed a wingman, which is how he met Ted, because I believe that Babar had to quickly leave the city.
2. Only in New York would an elephant go unnoticed for so long.
3. Only in New York could you find a tailor that could dress an elephant.
3a. Okay, and Thailand.
4. Babar always wears a suit.
5. When Babar came into the city he found an older (slim and rather attractive if you go for the dowager look) wealthy woman to support him. Quite possibly using a play from the "Playbook".
6. Babar used his crown to marry a hottie (by elephant standards).
7. Ted isn't up to Babar's skill level which is why Barney is always disappointed.
8. Barney uses his royal contacts (Babar) to keep his job. 9. Barney's fear of guns is because of the story of how Babar's mother died, it was that moving.
10. When the tailor tried to sell Babar an ugly suit it's the only time you see the elephant get annoyed.
11. When Babar has problems with the rhinos he always has a plan. Just like Barney.
You may think this is odd but I'm willing to bet that some of you are thinking that it makes sense. And it's frivolous. And Awesome.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Pride.
One child is seven and is a reader. I'm so proud of that. This kid wants to create a detective club (I'm Secret Agent Squirrel) so my wife passed out a criminal behavior text book.
The book is not really well liked. Can you blame the kid? It's a text book dealing with a lot of psychology about criminals. Pretty damn boring. This child will ask me what a word means, and that is done after the glossary is checked in the back of the book.
Today the kid is writing a story. Used a story that they used in kindergarten, just needed to add more stuff to it. When we were talking about the text book the word "boring" was used quite a bit. That made me remember something, a book about criminals and the scene of the crime. It was written for writers not cops. Much easier to read and the word boring is not needed in the description of it.
I explain what the book is for and this kid is excited to read it. My kid is seven and has plans to be a writer and a business owner. You can not believe how proud I am.
The book is not really well liked. Can you blame the kid? It's a text book dealing with a lot of psychology about criminals. Pretty damn boring. This child will ask me what a word means, and that is done after the glossary is checked in the back of the book.
Today the kid is writing a story. Used a story that they used in kindergarten, just needed to add more stuff to it. When we were talking about the text book the word "boring" was used quite a bit. That made me remember something, a book about criminals and the scene of the crime. It was written for writers not cops. Much easier to read and the word boring is not needed in the description of it.
I explain what the book is for and this kid is excited to read it. My kid is seven and has plans to be a writer and a business owner. You can not believe how proud I am.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Veterans Day.
As my faithful reader(s) should know, I am a very proud supporter of our military. I was wondering what to write about veterans that I haven't written before and then I had lunch with one of my brothers.
Seeing him reminded me of something he did a few months ago. He's in a cigar shop (smoking a cigar of course) and a gentleman comes in wearing his fatigues/bdu's/whatever the name is this week and gets a handful of different cigars. When he's about to pay for them my brother tells the cashier the cigars in his hand are on me. He goes up and pays for them and thanks the kid (this brother is in his 50's) for his service. He told me about it because the other guys there told him that he made them look bad.
He said he spent $6 and change, how do you think that kid felt? Can you afford to buy a cup of coffee for a stranger the next time you're in a coffee shop? I used to work at Applebee's and on Veterans Day we would give a free meal to vets. I'm not asking you to go that far (unless you can afford it) but can you afford a few bucks? Can you afford the time when a serviceman (or woman) is in line behind you to let them go before you?
At the very least you can afford to just say "Thank you".
Seeing him reminded me of something he did a few months ago. He's in a cigar shop (smoking a cigar of course) and a gentleman comes in wearing his fatigues/bdu's/whatever the name is this week and gets a handful of different cigars. When he's about to pay for them my brother tells the cashier the cigars in his hand are on me. He goes up and pays for them and thanks the kid (this brother is in his 50's) for his service. He told me about it because the other guys there told him that he made them look bad.
He said he spent $6 and change, how do you think that kid felt? Can you afford to buy a cup of coffee for a stranger the next time you're in a coffee shop? I used to work at Applebee's and on Veterans Day we would give a free meal to vets. I'm not asking you to go that far (unless you can afford it) but can you afford a few bucks? Can you afford the time when a serviceman (or woman) is in line behind you to let them go before you?
At the very least you can afford to just say "Thank you".
Sunday, November 10, 2013
The Left Hand.
SETTING: THE OVAL OFFICE, NIGHT TIME. A GENTLEMAN IN A CHAIR IN SHADOW. DRESSED IN A MILITARY UNIFORM.
THE LEFT HAND: (CALM) Hello, Mr. President.
MR PRESIDENT: (STARTLED) Who are you? How did you even get in here? (MOVING TOWARDS A PARTICULAR SPOT ON HIS DESK)
THE LEFT HAND: Don't bother, the alarm has been disabled for this meeting. My name doesn't matter. No one knows it, but I do work for you. I'm your left hand...
MR. PRESIDENT: (SITTING IN HIS CHAIR, HAS GIVEN UP ON PRESSING AN UNSEEN BUTTON) Left hand? Which means?
THE LEFT HAND: Little joke from before our time, your right hand is your helper that the public can know about. I'm the helper that the public had better not ever knowing about. We started with JFK, he was a bad boy in ways that the public still doesn't know about, we had to clean up that mess. The conspiracy crazies are correct, he was killed by a conspiracy in the highest levels of our government; oddly enough, Johnson wasn't involved at all until he had my original predecessor tasked with uncovering the conspiracy. Johnson thought that the truth would hurt the US too much so he had us created. If something is just too terrible for normal channels you can contact us. We will do things that the public doesn't need to know about, kind of like that saying about sausages and laws.
MR. PRESIDENT: (NODDING, FAR OFF LOOK IN HIS EYES) Could be useful, if used sparingly.
How do I contact you? And your name?
THE LEFT HAND: I've watched you for awhile, your "trigger" is simple. If you need to contact me just wait until you have a meal and wipe your mouth with a napkin that's in your left hand. It was different for your predecessor and it will be different for whoever replaces you. Don't worry about the name, it's for our safety if you can't track me down.
MR. PRESIDENT: (CONFUSED/QUESTIONING) "Our" safety?
THE LEFT HAND: (GETTING UP AND PREPARING TO LEAVE) Three people know of "The Left Hand". You, me and my second, if anything happens to me then he will take over. (AT THE DOOR AND OVER HIS SHOULDER) Something I need to clarify, if you do anything that can harm the US then YOU are my target. Legend has it that Johnson himself told the original Left Hand to kill him if he did something as bad as JFK. Please think about that before you contact the governor you were planning on meeting with tomorrow.
My latest stab at dialogue from a play/film perspective.
THE LEFT HAND: (CALM) Hello, Mr. President.
MR PRESIDENT: (STARTLED) Who are you? How did you even get in here? (MOVING TOWARDS A PARTICULAR SPOT ON HIS DESK)
THE LEFT HAND: Don't bother, the alarm has been disabled for this meeting. My name doesn't matter. No one knows it, but I do work for you. I'm your left hand...
MR. PRESIDENT: (SITTING IN HIS CHAIR, HAS GIVEN UP ON PRESSING AN UNSEEN BUTTON) Left hand? Which means?
THE LEFT HAND: Little joke from before our time, your right hand is your helper that the public can know about. I'm the helper that the public had better not ever knowing about. We started with JFK, he was a bad boy in ways that the public still doesn't know about, we had to clean up that mess. The conspiracy crazies are correct, he was killed by a conspiracy in the highest levels of our government; oddly enough, Johnson wasn't involved at all until he had my original predecessor tasked with uncovering the conspiracy. Johnson thought that the truth would hurt the US too much so he had us created. If something is just too terrible for normal channels you can contact us. We will do things that the public doesn't need to know about, kind of like that saying about sausages and laws.
MR. PRESIDENT: (NODDING, FAR OFF LOOK IN HIS EYES) Could be useful, if used sparingly.
How do I contact you? And your name?
THE LEFT HAND: I've watched you for awhile, your "trigger" is simple. If you need to contact me just wait until you have a meal and wipe your mouth with a napkin that's in your left hand. It was different for your predecessor and it will be different for whoever replaces you. Don't worry about the name, it's for our safety if you can't track me down.
MR. PRESIDENT: (CONFUSED/QUESTIONING) "Our" safety?
THE LEFT HAND: (GETTING UP AND PREPARING TO LEAVE) Three people know of "The Left Hand". You, me and my second, if anything happens to me then he will take over. (AT THE DOOR AND OVER HIS SHOULDER) Something I need to clarify, if you do anything that can harm the US then YOU are my target. Legend has it that Johnson himself told the original Left Hand to kill him if he did something as bad as JFK. Please think about that before you contact the governor you were planning on meeting with tomorrow.
My latest stab at dialogue from a play/film perspective.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
After the workout day.
It's the day after I really worked out in years. Am I sore? Some, but I need to work out again so that next time I'm not as sore. Weird little tidbit about fitness.
Before I go to the gym today I made pretzel bread, apparently my wife really likes pretzel bread. Of course I'll be making it again. That got me to thinking. I need chocolate in my bread. I'm spending more calories via working out therefore I can eat more chocolate. That makes so much sense to me.
Anytime someone puts chocolate chips in a bread recipe it doesn't seem to work out like in the pictures. The chips just melt so you have chocolate bread. Chocolate bread would be fine if it wasn't so wimpy. Then I thought about M&M's, the sugar coating should protect the chocolate from melting. Only one thing to do. It's called experimentation. Maybe Monday will be the first batch of M&M bread.
When I make it I'll tell you about it.
Before I go to the gym today I made pretzel bread, apparently my wife really likes pretzel bread. Of course I'll be making it again. That got me to thinking. I need chocolate in my bread. I'm spending more calories via working out therefore I can eat more chocolate. That makes so much sense to me.
Anytime someone puts chocolate chips in a bread recipe it doesn't seem to work out like in the pictures. The chips just melt so you have chocolate bread. Chocolate bread would be fine if it wasn't so wimpy. Then I thought about M&M's, the sugar coating should protect the chocolate from melting. Only one thing to do. It's called experimentation. Maybe Monday will be the first batch of M&M bread.
When I make it I'll tell you about it.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Just life.
I'm losing weight. I like riding my bike but that's not the most fun when it's raining, cold and dark. Add in a trailer with a kid or two and it becomes a Soviet bloc torture technique. Today I joined a gym.
They have a kids area which was the make or break aspect of this one. The kid part was clean and the lady working there seemed nice. Worked out for an hour and when we were ready to go home did our child want to go? Nope.
I need to work on legs. Way back when I was a teenager I could almost push 400. I tried but I could never hit that number. What can I do today? I could do a few reps of 220, son of a bitch. This aging gig sucks.
They have a kids area which was the make or break aspect of this one. The kid part was clean and the lady working there seemed nice. Worked out for an hour and when we were ready to go home did our child want to go? Nope.
I need to work on legs. Way back when I was a teenager I could almost push 400. I tried but I could never hit that number. What can I do today? I could do a few reps of 220, son of a bitch. This aging gig sucks.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
The Fall and Rise of Crybaby. Part 2.
A chop shop. You've brought me to a house of horrors for my kind. How dare you. You had your first kiss in my backseat and this is how you pay me back. Someone is looking at my engine and I can hear his voice getting excited. It's disgusting the glee he's showing at my imminent demise. And you, I thought we were family and all you can talk about is removing the A/C, I loathe you now. Both of you disgust me, caressing me as you plan my dismemberment.
Hang on, I just heard you say "tune up" and "flame paint job". You want to get me new tires and clean me up? Did I just hear a host of angels sing? You're laughing because my driver gave me to you and you think he didn't know that I have a 351 Windsor in me. The jokes on you. He knew and our racing paid for most of your clothes when you were a baby. You want to race? Let's get that A/C out and you better get a job for gas, tires, and oil. We'll race and we'll show them what a Cougar can do.
VROOM, VROOM, VROOM, VROOM, VROOOOOM!
Little Johnny might not like Elvis like my driver does but he's learning how to race. I can't wait for his father to find out that Little Johnny is just like him. One behind the wheel and the other training, we can't lose. Just watch.
Hang on, I just heard you say "tune up" and "flame paint job". You want to get me new tires and clean me up? Did I just hear a host of angels sing? You're laughing because my driver gave me to you and you think he didn't know that I have a 351 Windsor in me. The jokes on you. He knew and our racing paid for most of your clothes when you were a baby. You want to race? Let's get that A/C out and you better get a job for gas, tires, and oil. We'll race and we'll show them what a Cougar can do.
VROOM, VROOM, VROOM, VROOM, VROOOOOM!
Little Johnny might not like Elvis like my driver does but he's learning how to race. I can't wait for his father to find out that Little Johnny is just like him. One behind the wheel and the other training, we can't lose. Just watch.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
The Fall and Rise of Crybaby. Part 1.
My name is Crybaby, I'm a car, a Mercury Cougar XR7 to be exact. I have the name because my plates had TER in it and my driver thought that Tear or Tears wasn't quite right for me. We've been through a lot together. I brought him to work day in and day out. I brought him to his wedding and to his honeymoon. I was there for him when he went to a funeral. I was even there when he conceived his son. Maybe he wasn't conceived on my seat but I know that they tried often enough.
Lately though I feel like my driver has forgotten what we've been through. He doesn't wash me as much and we don't go on rides to the country as a family anymore. He's even bought a "sporty" SUV (notice how she doesn't have a name? I noticed) for his wife that they take out on the town. I hope they don't think I care though, after all I don't tip over. I've noticed that Little Johnny has taken an interest in me though. He's even washed me a few times. He didn't do that great of a job but he did more than my driver has recently.
My driver used to tell Little Johnny that he would teach him how to drive in me. I guess he forgot. He uses me to bring Little Johnny to some driving class but even then he takes the SUV more often than not. All of those little sports cars, Little Johnny was almost drooling when he first saw them. Look again Little Johnny, they all have two brakes and no bench seat. You might not be here if I didn't have a bench seat.
Lately we've been going to car dealers. I'm surprised that my driver is going to buy Little Johnny a new car. Makes sense though. I was new when my driver picked me and I've stood (you know what I mean) with him through thick and thin. My driver has finally picked one for Little Johnny. He must be worried that Little Johnny is going to wreck his new car before he gets him home; he's driving the new one and Little Johnny is driving me home.
Hang on, my driver is parking the new car in my spot. MY spot. Little Johnny is parking ME in the street? What is going on here? Little Johnny is thanking my driver? What do you mean you're going out to see some friends? Why is my driver going inside? Why is Little Johnny getting back in?
Okay, it's not so bad. He's driving okay. Hasn't hit anything. Isn't going to fast or slow. Nice and easy, just the way it should be. Wait a minute, I can't see the house anymore and we're going faster. Really fast now. We're going so fast, we're going to crash! That light is yellow, DID YOU HEAR ME? YELLOW! THAT DOES NOT MEAN TO GO FASTER! THIS NEXT LIGHT IS RED! THAT MEANS TO STOP! NOW, NOT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD!
Okay, he's slowed down. What's this? He's bringing me to a garage? I've heard about these places, he's brought me to a chop shop. Son of a bitch. I brought you home from the hospital and this is how you treat me?
Lately though I feel like my driver has forgotten what we've been through. He doesn't wash me as much and we don't go on rides to the country as a family anymore. He's even bought a "sporty" SUV (notice how she doesn't have a name? I noticed) for his wife that they take out on the town. I hope they don't think I care though, after all I don't tip over. I've noticed that Little Johnny has taken an interest in me though. He's even washed me a few times. He didn't do that great of a job but he did more than my driver has recently.
My driver used to tell Little Johnny that he would teach him how to drive in me. I guess he forgot. He uses me to bring Little Johnny to some driving class but even then he takes the SUV more often than not. All of those little sports cars, Little Johnny was almost drooling when he first saw them. Look again Little Johnny, they all have two brakes and no bench seat. You might not be here if I didn't have a bench seat.
Lately we've been going to car dealers. I'm surprised that my driver is going to buy Little Johnny a new car. Makes sense though. I was new when my driver picked me and I've stood (you know what I mean) with him through thick and thin. My driver has finally picked one for Little Johnny. He must be worried that Little Johnny is going to wreck his new car before he gets him home; he's driving the new one and Little Johnny is driving me home.
Hang on, my driver is parking the new car in my spot. MY spot. Little Johnny is parking ME in the street? What is going on here? Little Johnny is thanking my driver? What do you mean you're going out to see some friends? Why is my driver going inside? Why is Little Johnny getting back in?
Okay, it's not so bad. He's driving okay. Hasn't hit anything. Isn't going to fast or slow. Nice and easy, just the way it should be. Wait a minute, I can't see the house anymore and we're going faster. Really fast now. We're going so fast, we're going to crash! That light is yellow, DID YOU HEAR ME? YELLOW! THAT DOES NOT MEAN TO GO FASTER! THIS NEXT LIGHT IS RED! THAT MEANS TO STOP! NOW, NOT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD!
Okay, he's slowed down. What's this? He's bringing me to a garage? I've heard about these places, he's brought me to a chop shop. Son of a bitch. I brought you home from the hospital and this is how you treat me?
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Being a stay at home dad.
As many of you know, I used to manage topless bars. What you might not know is that I mainly worked in the redneck/barrio/rougher low end ones. Oddly enough, there is more money and less drama in them than the "upscale" ones. Rougher as in I used to carry two guns, my Glock 17 and my back-up was a Steyr. They were both in level 0 holsters; for those that don't know, a level 0 means that gravity and some friction are holding the pistol in place. But, they are fast and that's what I wanted. In all my time in the clubs I almost drew on someone once. I was taught that you don't draw unless you're willing to shoot and don't shoot unless you're willing to kill. Anyone that draws and just waves it around is a bit of an idiot. I even have a variety of club t-shirts because sometimes blood would get on my work shirt and I needed a replacement. All that being said, this whole being a stay at home dad (sahd) is so much harder. I'm getting better though. Shopping today, various errands, cleaning, cooked dinner (entree and a side), even figured out a preliminary menu for the rest of the week. It's taken me awhile but I'm finally starting to figure it all out.
Some times I miss the simplicity of working in clubs. There the only thing I had to worry about was some crackhead trying to stab me. Now, that seems like the "good old days". I know it's not; but damn, this is a freaking crapload of work. I can't wait to go back to work.
Monday, November 4, 2013
The Play. Act. 4.
I'm somewhat lost about this play. Lot's of ideas but trying to put them in the format of a play is harder than I thought. I'm looking at it like poetry, the dialogue is smaller than a novel therefore each word needs to have a bit more punch than usual. Describing the action is easier because I can write it as directions to actors not as prose.
ACT 4. SCENE 1.
SETTING: NIGHTTIME ON A PORCH, THE REVEREND IS DRESSED IN A ROBE OVER PAJAMAS. HE'S KNOCKING ON THE DOOR AND SHOUTS AND BREAKAGE CAN BE SEEN ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR. THE DOOR IS VIOLENTLY OPENED AND MR. QUINN ANSWERS. SCENE IS FROM THE SIDE, BEHIND THE NEIGHBOR IS A LADY SITTING ON A SOFA.
MR. QUINN: (YELLING AND ANGRY) What do you want?
THE REVEREND: (CALM AND PEACEFUL) Hi, I'm your new neighbor (puts out hand to shake) and I'm trying to sleep, work to do in the morning, and your party is a bit noisy. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that some neighbor called the police already.
MR. QUINN: (ANGRY) You called the police on me? You little punk, I oughta...
THE REVEREND: (CUTTING HIM OFF) You oughta not do a damn thing. Whatever you and your wife are doing, just stop and go to sleep.
MR. QUINN: (ANGRY BUT QUIETER) I know you, you're that new preacher down at the church. I'm not a little boy, you don't scare me. What I do to my wife is none of your damn business. Now get off my property.
THE REVEREND: (STILL CALM BUT NOW MENACING) Have you ever heard of Romans 13:4? It's a big verse about how I am a servant of Mr. G and I will pound you into next week for him. (PUSHES MR. QUINN DOWN VIOLENTLY. POSSIBLY A SWEEP OR AN ARM BAR. STEPPING INTO THE HOUSE AND POINTING AT THE WIFE) You, any kids?
MRS. QUINN: (FRIGHTENED, LOOKING DOWN) No...
THE REVEREND: (ALMOST BARKING) Pack a bag. Anything you don't want him to destroy take with you...Now.
MRS. QUINN LEAVES.
ACT 4. SCENE 2.
SETTING: THE REVERENDS LIVING ROOM. THE REVEREND IS STILL IN HIS ROBE AND PAJAMAS, MRS. QUINN IS IN A ROBE WITH A SUITCASE AND A PILLOWCASE FULL OF WHATEVER.
THE REVEREND: Before anything else happens, are you going to go back to him? If so, do it now.
MRS. QUINN: (STILL FRIGHTENED, STILL LOOKING DOWN) No, he'd kill me for sure then. (QUIETLY) The last time I left he beat me so hard...
THE REVEREND: You don't have to worry about this time, just keep Galatians 5:1 in your heart and you'll do fine.
MRS. QUINN: (COCKS HER HEAD AND ALMOST LOOKS AT HIM FOR AN EXPLANATION)...
THE REVEREND: You don't know Galatians? (SMILING AND JOKING) What is this world coming to? It basically says that you're free and don't let yourself be a slave again. (POINTING) The couch is pretty comfy, I'll get you a blanket and such. Bathroom is over there, kitchen is there (YELLING FROM OUTSIDE) That should be the cops talking to your husband. If you have any family you can call you might as well wait for the morning to tell them that you've left him. You can call the police then also to press charges. (LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW) I wonder if the boys in blue saw the bumper sticker on your husbands truck.
MRS. QUINN: (QUIZZICAL) My husband...he doesn't have a bumper sticker on his truck.
THE REVEREND: (SMILING) That's funny, I know I saw one on his truck. That's why it took me so long to knock on your door, I had to take the time to read it. It was rather a rude tasteless joke about cops. You might want to look at it before you tell the police about his hatred of the police, I can't repeat it you, (SMUG SMILE) I'm a Reverend after all.
ACT 4. SCENE 1.
SETTING: NIGHTTIME ON A PORCH, THE REVEREND IS DRESSED IN A ROBE OVER PAJAMAS. HE'S KNOCKING ON THE DOOR AND SHOUTS AND BREAKAGE CAN BE SEEN ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR. THE DOOR IS VIOLENTLY OPENED AND MR. QUINN ANSWERS. SCENE IS FROM THE SIDE, BEHIND THE NEIGHBOR IS A LADY SITTING ON A SOFA.
MR. QUINN: (YELLING AND ANGRY) What do you want?
THE REVEREND: (CALM AND PEACEFUL) Hi, I'm your new neighbor (puts out hand to shake) and I'm trying to sleep, work to do in the morning, and your party is a bit noisy. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that some neighbor called the police already.
MR. QUINN: (ANGRY) You called the police on me? You little punk, I oughta...
THE REVEREND: (CUTTING HIM OFF) You oughta not do a damn thing. Whatever you and your wife are doing, just stop and go to sleep.
MR. QUINN: (ANGRY BUT QUIETER) I know you, you're that new preacher down at the church. I'm not a little boy, you don't scare me. What I do to my wife is none of your damn business. Now get off my property.
THE REVEREND: (STILL CALM BUT NOW MENACING) Have you ever heard of Romans 13:4? It's a big verse about how I am a servant of Mr. G and I will pound you into next week for him. (PUSHES MR. QUINN DOWN VIOLENTLY. POSSIBLY A SWEEP OR AN ARM BAR. STEPPING INTO THE HOUSE AND POINTING AT THE WIFE) You, any kids?
MRS. QUINN: (FRIGHTENED, LOOKING DOWN) No...
THE REVEREND: (ALMOST BARKING) Pack a bag. Anything you don't want him to destroy take with you...Now.
MRS. QUINN LEAVES.
ACT 4. SCENE 2.
SETTING: THE REVERENDS LIVING ROOM. THE REVEREND IS STILL IN HIS ROBE AND PAJAMAS, MRS. QUINN IS IN A ROBE WITH A SUITCASE AND A PILLOWCASE FULL OF WHATEVER.
THE REVEREND: Before anything else happens, are you going to go back to him? If so, do it now.
MRS. QUINN: (STILL FRIGHTENED, STILL LOOKING DOWN) No, he'd kill me for sure then. (QUIETLY) The last time I left he beat me so hard...
THE REVEREND: You don't have to worry about this time, just keep Galatians 5:1 in your heart and you'll do fine.
MRS. QUINN: (COCKS HER HEAD AND ALMOST LOOKS AT HIM FOR AN EXPLANATION)...
THE REVEREND: You don't know Galatians? (SMILING AND JOKING) What is this world coming to? It basically says that you're free and don't let yourself be a slave again. (POINTING) The couch is pretty comfy, I'll get you a blanket and such. Bathroom is over there, kitchen is there (YELLING FROM OUTSIDE) That should be the cops talking to your husband. If you have any family you can call you might as well wait for the morning to tell them that you've left him. You can call the police then also to press charges. (LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW) I wonder if the boys in blue saw the bumper sticker on your husbands truck.
MRS. QUINN: (QUIZZICAL) My husband...he doesn't have a bumper sticker on his truck.
THE REVEREND: (SMILING) That's funny, I know I saw one on his truck. That's why it took me so long to knock on your door, I had to take the time to read it. It was rather a rude tasteless joke about cops. You might want to look at it before you tell the police about his hatred of the police, I can't repeat it you, (SMUG SMILE) I'm a Reverend after all.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Rags.
Driving today and I'm thinking about a character. I'm not really sure what made me think of this person but I'm going to tell you and get it out of my head. Maybe I'll do something with it later, maybe not. I haven't decided yet.I'm thinking this should be done as a comic book, probably online. This idea just screams for a comic book. Simple, the story doesn't need to be cluttered with too much detail. And the comic book format lets you do super hero (and villain) stuff for a lot less money than a play or film.
Here's the basic premise. A guy has his career as a vice-principal in a rougher school. He's sees all of the damage that not having enough food can do to a kid. He wants to do more but other than spending what little free time he has volunteering at various places there isn't much he can do.
Then the accident happens. Something happens that's dramatic yet confined to a small group of people; my first thought is a meteor hits nearby and the "cosmic radiation" changes some people. The main character and his eventual love interest are affected, some others that can range from hoods to normal people. Depending on how the plot goes.
The main character gets the typical super hero package (super strength, dexterity, speed, improved toughness, and maybe something else) and of course being a nice guy he uses it to help people. He stops muggings, runs into burning buildings to save someone, that kind of stuff. But he still sees "his" kids at school everyday needing help.
Then he sees an opportunity, a bank has money put into the atm every week. He decides to steal it and give it to the people that need it. He doesn't want to lose his job so he knows he'll need a disguise, he gets his inspiration from a homeless guy in the alley near the bank. He hits the thrift stores and buys some cheap clothes; so they (and he) don't look out of place as a homeless person he puts them in the garden, wipes his car engine with them, pours stuff on them to give them the proper lived in look.
He hides in a cardboard box and waits. He steals the money and makes anonymous donations to various local charities, especially ones that will help his kids. Because he was dressed up like a homeless person the news reporters call him "Rags", possibly they wanted to call him "Ragamuffin" but that was shortened to Rags. Also because he was dressed as a homeless person the city starts aggressively removing the homeless from the city and vigilante groups eventually start attacking the homeless.
He's successful from his first job so he does more. Eventually, a hero try's to stop him. They pound away on each other for awhile but since he's not trying to hurt her he eventually runs off. The hero (Super Love Interest) is part of a group of supers that were all affected by the meteor. They've banded together to protect their city from the likes of Rags and other criminal elements. SLI is a social worker that's putting her money and time into a charity that helps people get jobs, go to school, etc. They recently started getting a large number of anonymous donations.
Eventually Rags and SLI will meet in a non-costume way and have a date. They have some chemistry but the dates are a bit off because they are both hiding something. I'm thinking that after they've been beating on each other for awhile (in costume) they have a date later on and neither one wants to do anything that would expose their bruises and contusions. Or alternatively, someone else who knows both of them realizes the truth and possibly uses that to their own ends.
Eventually Rags will cross the line from robber to murderer. The victim is either an accident or very corrupt. Either way he crosses a line and SLI and her group really start looking for him.
Saturday, November 2, 2013
A very weird cult.
My wife and I went out to Dallas for a little lunch at the Galleria. For those of you who don't know, the Galleria is a mall that's a bit on the high end side. For example, there is quite a bit of valet parking at this place. It does have some of the usual suspects for food and retail but then it gets a little pricey for a mall. Some very expensive and exclusive stores, the restaurant we went to was good but I don't think we could justify going there too much.
After lunch we popped into an American Girl store because my wife had heard that they were a bit crazy so we decided to check out the insanity. It's a cult. If a kid wants a doll I have no problem with that. If they want to wear the same outfit as the doll then I'm still okay with that. If the kid wants the doll that is like them (pick eye color, hair color and texture, pick skin tone) then I still have no problem. Then I saw the price tags. $110 for the basic doll. The doll does have an outfit or you can buy more. While you're getting the extra outfits you can get accessories like glasses, retainers, hearing aids, pajamas, furniture, pets, and even doll care items. On a side note I was impressed with the furniture, the ladderback chairs with the rabbit ears and woven seats was something I've worked on in the past and the Duncan Phyfe chairs look like the ones I've repaired and swore over. Even the roll top desk was workable. I was really impressed with the furniture if you couldn't tell.
But no matter how much I was impressed with the furniture I still think it's a cult. Then I thought about the truth of the marketing. The kid might want it but it's the parents that whip out the cash. Then I started wondering how many women and couples have a miscarriage or still birth and get one of these as a physical object of their grief. That I can accept.
After lunch we popped into an American Girl store because my wife had heard that they were a bit crazy so we decided to check out the insanity. It's a cult. If a kid wants a doll I have no problem with that. If they want to wear the same outfit as the doll then I'm still okay with that. If the kid wants the doll that is like them (pick eye color, hair color and texture, pick skin tone) then I still have no problem. Then I saw the price tags. $110 for the basic doll. The doll does have an outfit or you can buy more. While you're getting the extra outfits you can get accessories like glasses, retainers, hearing aids, pajamas, furniture, pets, and even doll care items. On a side note I was impressed with the furniture, the ladderback chairs with the rabbit ears and woven seats was something I've worked on in the past and the Duncan Phyfe chairs look like the ones I've repaired and swore over. Even the roll top desk was workable. I was really impressed with the furniture if you couldn't tell.
But no matter how much I was impressed with the furniture I still think it's a cult. Then I thought about the truth of the marketing. The kid might want it but it's the parents that whip out the cash. Then I started wondering how many women and couples have a miscarriage or still birth and get one of these as a physical object of their grief. That I can accept.
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