So, sometimes when I am looking for something blog and I know I have to not only be up in about 7 hours for work, meaning I'll need to be in bed in an hour or so... and so tonight, I found this little gem. Well, to me its a gem, to you it might just be something to skim on your daily check of Clouds in My Coffee
...which I've noticed I'm getting alot of traffic daily, probably due to The Summer of Blogging--so... thank you so much...
...anyway, its the lyrics to a version of "Everyone's Free to Wear Sunscreen", done by Baz Luhrmann from 1999.
It originated in 1997, when Mary Schmich of the Chicago Tribune wrote a column entitled "Advice, Like Youth, Probably Just Wasted on the Young". She described it as "a commencement speech, were I asked to give one". Over the years, it has been erroneously attributed to Kurt Vonnegat, though it became truly famous when, in 1999, Australian film director Baz Luhrmann used the entire essay in a spoken word song entitled "Wear Sunscreen".
And by 2000, this song was everywhere. So, on January 9th, 2001, I did my own version. And I thought I'd give it to you...
"HAVE A QUIET TIME (EVERYBODY'S FREE)"
Ladies and gentlemen of The Deuce... read scripture.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, a daily quiet time would be it. The long term benefits of The Word has been proven time after time by God and joy in your life that comes with Him, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.
I will dispense this advice...
...now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of The Deuce.Oh, never mind, you will never understand the power and beauty of The Deuce until it has disbanded.But trust me, in twenty years, you will look back at photos of Deuce Christmas and an old DeuceFest shirt and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much fun you had and how fabulous the Deuce guys really looked.
They are not as lazy as you might think.
Don't worry about the future or worry, but know that worrying is as ineffective as McLeod trying to be entertained by watching Jason Takes Manhatten.The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that has a Mercedes blindsiding your insuranceless car at 10:30pm on a random Tuesday.
Bring one new person to Common Ground, even if it scares you.
If you are Stephanie Campbell, sing.Unless you are Rebecca Glassco.Then act.
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, don't put up with Delta Zetas who are reckless with yours.
Use coasters.
Don't waste your time on jealousy... if she likes you, great, if she doesn't, being jealous will only turn her off of you even further.The race is long and though you may never reach the end, enjoy the run.
Remember compliments Michael gives you, forget his insults.If you succeed in doing this, you aren't Sarah Hasha.
Keep your old movie tickets.Throw away any bills.
Slam.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 20 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 25 year olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of Hamburger Helper.
Be kind to the Nipp family... you'll miss Sunday lunch when its gone.
Maybe you'll get a date, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll go out twice, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll go stag at Deuce Date Party, maybe you'll eat cheese fries on your 2nd anniversary.
Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, dont berate yourself to much either.
God's will is going to happen, whether you like it or not.
Enjoy the Deuce.Visit every chance you can, don't be afraid of it or what other people think of it.It has some of the greatest fellowship you'll ever know.
Watch the History Channel at least once a week, even if there are others things on.
Don't worry about the directions, just shove them behind the DVDS.
Do not read Shawn's Better Homes and Gardens, it will only make you feel gay.
Get to know Factor 7's music.You'll never know when they'll break up for good.
Be nice to your roommates.They are the best link to paying rent on time, and the people most likely to stick with you when everyone else won't.
Understand that friends come and go, but a precious few you should hold on to. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and gender, for as the older you get, the more you'll need somewhere to go and just relax.
Visit Hunter Street once, but leave before it makes you hard.
Visit Brookhills once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Accept certain inaliable truths... Daniel will have his palm pilot,and Ty Coffey will own Samford and Mike Williams will try to date Rebecca.When you get older, you'll fantacize that when you young, Daniel used an ink pen, Mike was meeting girls at Ropers and Ty was merely a Senator.
Respect Wookiee, Sybil and Jimmy, for they are your elders.
Don't expect anyone else to pay your bills.
Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a loaded roommate, but you'll never know when either one will run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time you are 40 you will look like you are a minister at Valleydale.
Be careful where you buy your used cds and movies, but be patient with those who supply them.
Know that advice is a form of nostalgia.Dispensing it is a way of sharing your opinions without seeming like you are telling the other person what to do.Usually its recycled advice spoken for more than its worth.
Just got in from recording our podcast, The Deucecast, Episode X: On Stranger Podcasts. Have you heard our show? Then let me tell you about it, so you'll know...
So not too long ago, maybe March or something like that, Mikey sends me a text that simply says, "I think we should do a podcast. Call it the deucecast. what do u think?"
Immediately, I smiled... a podcast? A real, true life, on iTunes podcast? I was down with it, completely. Mikey is one of those guys that, when he is all in, he's all in. He's totally in. He's behind it a billion percent. And this idea had been perculating around his mind for a little while, to the point where he started prepping for it before he even asked me about it. Probably because... well, he' knew I'd be in.
After doing this website for just shy of six years now, I had been thinking of the next step, the next progression. Heck, I had decided a year or so ago that a podcast would be a great idea, one of my own where I could talk about what I want, having guests of all calibers to discuss and debate--don't know if it would have been interesting, but at least I would have enjoyed it.
Problem was, I knew nothing of a podcast. Nor did I have the equipment to even start with it. But Mikey... he had the equipment, or at least some of it. He needed me to kind of put a frame work on the show, maybe segments, games and so on. What we would talk about, do a "rundown" of sorts.
But how to get the show running, the techie stuff? Enter Tommy Mac and Shawn Sharp, who both have a great idea of how this stuff works.
Though Mikey was ready to do an hour plus show the first week, I knew we'd have to build. We met on a Wednesday night about a week or so after our initial conversation, and figured we'd put down some audio, talk about whatever, and that would be that... and after 90 minutes of playing with earphones, wires, sound levels, microphones, filters and so on, Mikey and I finally began to talk with Tommy and Shawn producing.
And it was dreadful. Part of the show is unintelligible due to a bad buzzing noise, the other part was just that we had no idea what exactly we were doing. I don't remember exactly what we talked about (I've never made it entirely through that particular episode on playback), but I do remember thinking that, "Well, that sucked... but it didn't suck as bad as it could have."
The next week rolled around, and this time, I actually brought "show notes", and a written "rundown". The rundown was just the flexible schedule we were going to go by, the show notes were typed out notes for my own use to get my own thoughts out a little easier.
Mikey's brother-in-law, and hubby to Mikey's sister Snipp, Matty, began listening from the beginning. Living in Chattanooga, he would email and text us both some thoughts and suggestions on making the show better... so it didn't take long before he became a "guest contributor", and then into a full fledged co-host.
So the three of us, Matty, Mikey and myselfy have hosted The Deucecast now for what was our 10th episode last night... well, thats 10, but we also did 4 "negative" episodes... meaning we took 4 weeks and did shows as a rehearsal of sorts.
You know how a big attraction at a theme park, or even a big store location has a grand opening, but before that, they do "soft openings" to work out the kinks? This was us. We took four weeks to work out the audio problems, to get our style down, to figure out segments that did and didn't work, games that needed redefining... and by Episode -1, we got it down. In fact, that is one of my personal favorite episodes!
We even called in some "guest contributors" like Hurricane Rhett and The Good Dr. Earl to come in every few weeks and add something different to the show. Perhaps Rhett's Rhants is one of our more popular segments, I'd say. We had best selling author Justin Fisher in-studio to discuss his book as well (and if you haven't read it, shame on you.... its great... book review coming soon enough) for our first in-studio interview.
So, you are asking, what's The Deucecast about? I'll admit, we aren't for everyone. Not that its bad language or anything, but some people (re: chicks) might find us dorky and boring... we talk about movies and music and celebrities and pop culture stuff for an hour every week. Mikey does a music segment where he brings up new music from sometimes obscure bands, and Matty and I make fun of him. Matt does a "smorgasbord" where he discusses whatever, though alot of times it revolves video gaming.
Seagal is all things to all people. And by "all people", I mean Matt Rector.
I do a bit called "Buried Treasure" and discuss movies that you may have forgotten, movies like "Boomerang" with Eddie Murphy, and wrestling film "Body Slam", and sometimes music, like Hootie's "Fairweather Johnson" CD.
There several in-studio games we rotate through from week to week, like "Name That Crap", where everyone has to name the song being played, usually something along the caliber of early Michael Bolton or Lisa Lisa & the Cult Jam... we do a game called "Faux or Show", where we discuss horrible television shows from the past... and a great little movie game that keeps us laughing and bewilders us about how much random crap we know.
We also do an homage every week to actor/lawman/activist/humanitarian/musician/jack of all trades/master of all trades Steven Seagal, mostly catering to Matt's possibly unhealthy obsession to the guy.
And in our "Roundtable", we just talk about whatever. Star Wars is a popular topic, as is Charlie Sheen and I like to discuss Amy Adams (whom I'm in love with), but we cover everything from topical headlines to books to anything else. Just a random free for all, almost like we are sitting in the living room just tossing stuff out there... cause thats actually what it is.
Overall, its a fun show. I think its funny, but again, its not for everyone. However, if you haven't listened to it at all, take a listen.
You can find the website at http://www.thedeucecast.com/ and listen there, or go to iTunes and search for "The Deucecast".
So, before you write us off, give it a listen. When you find out we are actually unfunny hacks who just laugh at our own inanity for an hour a week, then you can write us off. But you have to listen to a show first. Heck, even Amarylis by Morning (up from san antone) thinks we are hacks--but thanks anyway to Painted By U for being a sponsor.
Okay, well, they arent really a sponsor, and legally, our show and her business have nothing to do with each other, and anything we say and do are not representative of the views and opinions of her or her business in any way (and vice versa), but if we DID have a pottery paintin' sponsor, Painted By U would totally be it, and if Painted By U wanted to sponsor a podcast, then... The Deucecast is it! (summer of blogging, day 10)
For anyone who knew me in The Deuce days, watching "Grown Ups" this past weekend made me think of one thing... this movie is what Deuce: The Movie would be if Deuce: The Movie was in fact a movie.
However, Sandler can still be funny. And when you throw in the likes of David Spade(who, let's face it, hasn't had a truly funny movie since the Farley days), Chris Rock(hasn't truly been funny in a real movie since "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back"), Rob Schneider(aside from the random funny cameos in most Sandler movies, he was last seen being funny in... in... well, The Lovely Steph Leann liked 'The Hot Chick"--a movie that I dug not for Schneider, but for Anna Faris and Rachel McAdams) and Kevin James(who was truly charming in "Paul Blart", was the funniest part of "Chuck & Larry" and truly held his own with Will Smith in "Hitch"), you have got the potential to have a pretty funny movie. And for the most part, "Grown Ups" delivers what you would expect.
Its a movie that features a group of guys who were friends back in the day, all playing on a middle school (back then it was "junior high") basketball team that won the championship... they grow up and lose touch, but are all called back together when their coach passes away. They end up spending the 4th of July long weekend together, with Sandler playing Lenny, a successful Hollywood agent, married to Roxanne (Salma Hayek) with three completely spoiled brat kids. Kevin James is Eric, married to Sally (an incredibly good looking Maria Bello) with a couple of problem kids of their own, including a 48 month old son who still likes to nurse... from mom. Yes, that's 4 years old.
Rob Schneider is Rob, and marries a woman 30 years his elder, which makes for a running gag that eventually gets tiresome, while David Spade is Marcus, a player who never got married and still chases women. Finally, Chris Rock is Token homemaker Kurt, married to the bacon-bringer-homer and very pregnant Deanne (Maya Rudolph), with a few kids of their own.
What follows in the course of the hour and forty five is a series of vignette-like scenes that carry the group through the weekend as they catch up, learn about family and friendship and say lots of innuendos and poopy farty jokes along the way. You know, its five guys. They do run into the grown up versions of the kids they beat on the championship team back in the day, allowing for fellow SNL alums Colin Quinn and Tim Meadows to make appearances, as well as Steve Buscemi, who looks like he's playing his squirrely bug-eyed look to the hilt.
Some jokes are funny, some fall flat, but you just have to be into this kind of a buddy-reunion movie to enjoy a film like this. Having lived with three other guys who paid rent and like, seven other guys that didn't, all at the same time, I could relate to this film in terms of how people change, the direction that life takes for some... though I cannot fathom being that close to your homeboys, and then having no contact with them for 30 years. That's just... well, maybe I'm being idealistic, but that's almost unreasonable.
I almost feel like this could be Shawn, Big Tom, Mikey, myself and Tommy Mac in a few years. Or Wookiee. Or Drewski. Or, if you are thinking Chris Rock, it could be The Hall--though I would think if we reunited for a coach's death, it would be for The Hall's funeral. Then again, I don't fish... Just sayin'.
The language is fair, not too bad, and with the exception of Maria Bello's booby coming out for a nursing scene (without showing anything, by the way) there's nothing really bad in this film.
Don't expect to see "Billy Madison" all over again... if you can wait until the Ghetto Theater for a Buck, do so. If you just have to see it now, take a matinee, otherwise catch it on a rental in probably September or October.
By the way... the soundtrack is absolutely fantastic... REO Speedwagon... J Geils... Journey (something other than "Don't Stop Believin'", for once)... Jefferson Starship... The Kinks... Eddie Money's "Two Tickets to Paradise", one of my 100 favorite songs of all time... and Bob Welch's "Sentimental Lady", which Chris Rock's character declares to be, somewhat correctly, "the whitest song in history"... oh, and one more song that's in the movie, but not on the soundtrack...
That's Bob Seger's "Rock and Roll Never Forgets". Bob Seger, what the crap, yo? First, let's be honest, you rock. "Shakedown" from "Beverly Hills Cop II", rocks. "Hollywood Nights" rocks. "Still the Same", "Turn the Page", "We Got Tonight"... they all rock. And so does this awesome song called "Rock and Roll Never Forgets". And you can't find it on iTunes.
If you are Garth Brooks or The Beatles, who have catalogs that are both infamous for not being available, then I can understand. Why sell on iTunes, you got a bajillion dollars anyway. But Bob Seger? Seriously, dude. Open up that catalog. I don't want "Greatest Hits Volume 2", I want that one song.
HAVE A SIX FLAGS DAY I recently purchased a Six Flags season pass. I haven't been to Six Flags in many years, since Goliath was brand spanking new, and I remember two things about that middle school trip I went on... first, Goliath was awesome. Second, the park was just dirty. I mean, really dirty.
In addition to the trash that lined the curbs, the "I don't give a rip" attitudes of many of the workers there, and the scenery and ride queues that seemed worn, faded and old, I always recall the gum spots on the Batman wall, and on the floor of the Superman ride as you are coming back to the station. As you are harnessed in, facing down, many people will spit gum out of their mouth onto the platform... and its gross.
I called up my buddy Shawn and told him I had my season pass and a free ticket that came with it, and as long as he could cover his own lunch, I'd take him. He was in full agreement, and we met up the next day around 9 and took off. A few hours later, we are pulling up into the Daffy Duck Row 7 line in the parking lot, and walking in. We immediately go on the Georgia Scorcher, waiting about 20 minutes to get on. I figure this is good, because 20 minutes is a decent, short wait for a ride, and if we can wait this long for all of them, then we'll be in the good shape.
I was wrong. We walked onto the Georgia Cyclone, Thunder River (he got soaked, I got my feet wet), the Ninja, The Great American Scream Machine and The Dahlonega Mine Train, and the only reason it took 15 minutes to get on Superman, Batman and Goliath is because we waited for the front of the line. After Batman, Shawn needed a coaster break, so I took on The Mind Bender alone... front car, no wait. I even closed my eyes during the ride, which I love doing on roller coasters.
The Ninja sucks. Always has. Its jerky, its rough and its not entertaining. And I'm not alone in this assessment, as its Wiki page says, "it is the least popular U.S. major roller coaster as voted by people on ThemeParkInsider, ThemeParkCritic, and other review sites." But, I ride it anyway.
I know much of the park was flooded last year, so I'm sure that helped spur along renovations and improvements, but I was impressed by everything. The workers (team members? associates? Six Flaggers?) all wear bright green shirts so they can easily be spotted, and most that I encountered had smiles and friendly attitudes, and cheered you on with "Have a Six Flags day!".
Some of the rides now have sponsors... Axe Body Spray is logo'd over The Ninja, which strikes me as kinda funny. The Mind Bender sports the green color again on the tracks, and the new cars (a little too sleek--I kinda miss the boxy cars) have question mark decorations down the side. No, not for the Riddler, like it was fifteen years ago, but because Stride sponsors this ride now. The Scorcher has brand new cars, with the flames on it now blue--Georgia Gas is the sponsor.
Over the six hours we were there, we rode everything we wanted, with minimal lines. They have deals for drinks now, like a bottle of water is $3, but you can get 2 for $5 (which is what we did), and the ice cream sandwich I had was pretty good too. Monster Plantation, which was in such dire need of an overhaul, got one. The music is crisp and loud, the boats are comfy enough and remodeled, and the animatronics, silly as they are, are full of fur and worked perfectly. The song is annoying as ever, but at least its understandable.
Overall, I was pleased with the day. The temperature wasn't too bad, the lines were short, and I was hanging with a good friend, which is the best way to enjoy a good roller coaster. While we were in the front row of Goliath, as it was cresting the first big hill (by the way, that coaster is terrifying, which is awesome) I could see the parking lot that was only a third full.
We ended the day by stopping at Texas Roadhouse, where I dined on a delmonica steak and cheese fries. Good times, good times indeed.
THE CURSE OF SIKES & KOHN'S If you travel down Highway 231, either from Montgomery headed to Troy, or headed to Monkeytown from Troy, you'll travel through, or at least near, a tiny little town called Pine Level. I know very little about Pine Level, except that there is a South Alabama icon there.
The place is called Sikes and Kohn's Country Mall, or Sikes and Kohn's (pronounced "kahn's") for short. And I hate this place.
Even before you get anywhere close to Sikes and Kohns, you'll see the billboards... oh, will you see the billboards. Large, painted signs telling you that you'll find shoes like Allen Edmunds, Cole Haan and Saucony, jeans like Levi's, Lee and Wranglers, clothes from Lauren, Tommy and Jordache all at Sikes and Kohns Country Mall.
Oh, I have nothing against Mr/Mrs Sikes or Mr/Mrs Kohn's, nor do I take any offense at the nature of the store. Its a bit overpriced for my tastes, but there are a few good deals to be had in there, if you look hard enough. They sell everything from camo to cowboy hats, boots to bolo ties, and there is an entire wall devoted to men's and women's belts.
No, the reason I dislike this place is because everytime I go there, my car breaks down. The first time I went, while in college, I stopped for some unknown reason--I'm sure it wasn't to shop. This was when I had my green Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. I went inside, and when I came back out, nothing. No turnover, no sound, nothing. Had to call a tow truck, and it was terribly overpriced.
Another time, I had driven down to visit Allysong and Shelby and Jenn Mullterp and Rad a Tad, and was on my way back when I had to stop and use the facilities. So, without thinking about it, I pulled into Sikes & Kohns Country Mall. Parked on the gravel lot, ran inside, use the powder room, came back out, started up, and was pulling out of the lot when my car started making a really, really funny noise.
Instead of going left, I went right, back down 231 to a small gas station/repair shop that I had passed. They spent about three hours fixing it. And as I crossed the median on 231 to take that left to head back to Birmingham, the car started... jumping. And surging. And stalling. So, back to the gas station. Then, it was towed to Troy. Allysong drove out and picked me up. Tow trucks on Sunday? Expensive.
So, skip ahead like, 12 years or something, to this past April. With a four day break between the ending of The Happiest Place in the Mall and the beginning of Starbucks full time, I decided I would take a few days to visit Mom in Samson. And on the way down, I started seeing the signs for Sikes and Kohns. I tensed.
It was time. It had been too long. The curse had warded over me for over a decade, so much so that I drove past it, never wanting to stop. But not this day. Not this time. If I was ever going to beat Sikes and Kohns, it was time to do so. With Toni Rocki Honda, no less, a 15 year old car that, if any car was going to break down, would be it.
Finally, I saw the big arrow sign, and Sikes and Kohns was here. I slowed down, pulled into the turning lane, and turned into the lot. I found a spot close to the front--it was a Tuesday late morning, so it wasn't crowded--parked and turn Toni Rocki Honda off. I got out, and went inside the building. I figured any stay had to be at least five minutes, otherwise it wouldn't count... I wanted this Curse of Sikes and Kohns dispelled once and for all.
I walked around inside, browsing the shirts and jeans, and observed the Wall O'Belts near the front. Nodded that "hi, how ya doing, no I don't need help, but I want to acknowledge your standing there" head nod to the cashier, and finally, went outside. Keys in hand, I unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel. Took a deep breath, turned they key...
...Toni Rocki Honda started to life. I exhaled. Put 'er in D, drove down the driveway and out onto 231... and drove away . The curse was done. It was over. I would now no longer be afraid to stop at Sikes and Kohns Country Mall. I don't know that I'll have any reason to stop there anyway, but now it won't be a purposeful not-stopping-there.
And just to add some drizzle to the cake, the gas station that I had my car serviced, and further broken, at is now just an abandoned building.
I win.
MORNING TIME While I'm at Starbucks now, working, I'll wear a drive thru headset... even if I'm not on the window, I'll have it on to assist those who are in the window by getting sandwiches, or pastries, or restocking cups or whatever. In the morning, its usually pretty busy, so I hear one beep after another, as one car after another comes to the speaker to order, but every now and again, there's a break. And in that break, I can hear... well, I can hear birds. Birds chirping. And singing. And as I listen to those birds chirping, even for a brief few seconds, it makes me think I'm 8 years old again.
When I was a kid, my mom and I would take a trip down to Florida for part of the summer. My aunt-then, sister-now (there's a story there, I promise, but for later), lived in Winter Garden, and I'd get to hang out with my cousin April, and it was awesome. We were young enough to sleep in the same room, as boys and girls do at that age, and I remember waking up early in the morning to those birds.
There would be a box fan in the window, and the peaceful hum of that fan would keep me drifting in and out of consciousness for most of the morning. I would open my eyes just enough to see that it was early, the light in the room dim, I could barely make out the features in the room. Sometimes, even with the box fan in the window, we'd still leave the window open and the morning's cool air would be in the room. It was Florida, mind you, and it would get hot... but not yet.
And, the cool outside air circulating with the box fan's air, the dim light in the room getting a little bit brighter every few minutes, me on my little bed with the blanket pulled up to my neck, April the next bed over... and I hear the birds sing.
Just like at Starbucks this morning.
Speaking of fans...
A FAN OF THE FAN There is very little better than a good fan. The Lovely Steph Leann has always had issues allergies and sinuses, so a ceiling fan whirring all night long might keep her cool at night, but there is a wheezy, stuffy price to pay in the morning.
During the summer, we try to be conscience of the thermostat, because we'd rather spend money at Disney World than pay a $250 power bill every month... so it can get a little toasty in our room. But on those days when she is gone, when I sleep alone, I turn that fan on high. I crawl into bed, and pull up my favorite mom-handsewn butterfly quilt and let the cool breeze rush around me.
But my favorite? When I was a kid at home, my parents let me used a small, oscillating fan (there is never use of the word "oscillating" unless the word "fan" is after it) that I would set on a metal folding chair. I'd use books to set it on to get just the right height, then hit that button in the back to make it turn.
That breeze from the fan going back and forth over the length of your body is awesome. You feel it on your face for about two seconds, then its gone, as the air moves down your body laying there under the sheet. Then, if you set it up just right, it would hit your feet for about two seconds, then head back towards your head again. That was a glorious feeling.
Movie reviews for about a dozen movies coming this weekend
If you are reading this on Facebook, you'll want to click over to Clouds in My Coffee. Otherwise, you'll miss the splendor.
Sometimes, you come across something that just has to be shared with the world. The year was 2000, N*Sync was the biggest band in the entire world, and The Deuce was the most rockin' apartment in the whole, entire universe.
And, in our spare time, usually for broadcast during Wednesday night's middle school service, we made videos. We did several, ranging from movie spoofs to musical bits to one where Mikey not only drove a fire truck, but he also threw the offering plate across the sanctuary like a frisbee.
But you have to see this one. In order of appearance, its Shawn Sharp, Amy Dennis, Tom Johnson, Mikey & Yours Truly and Jason Lazzero. Video work done by Jimmy Bowling. Choreography & story outline done by Yours Truly. Digital work & uploading by Shawn Sharp.
Amy & Jason were both allergic to cats. Since it took about three hours to shoot this, both were miserable by the end of the night due to the presence of Max & Fisher, the cats of The Deuce. By the time Amy makes that walk down the hall towards the end, she's about to pass out.
Yours Truly looks angry here, but its really just a front for the video. I'm doing some sort of animated hand motion thing... have no clue what that even is.
Mikey looks angry here because he really was angry. Unsure if this was the "Post Susan Neese" period just kicking in or what, but he was not a happy guy.
Filmed entirely in The Deuce. Notice all the VHS tapes atop and beside the big entertainment center.
I tagged Mike Williams and Mike Brunson on this on Facebook, two Mikes that I know from entirely different contexts--however, both will recognize that green and white checkered couch.
Finally, I've lost about six pints in tears from laughing so hard as I watch this. We truly were something... well, something.
Shawn did some work putting other videos in digital format, so I am sure those will have to come up soon too.
Where are we? Currently, sitting in the back of a police cruiser, handcuffed, in April of 2003. Find out how I got there by reading Part I.
As I sat down to finish the story, The Lovely Steph Leann was headed upstairs to lay that pretty little head to sleep. I mentioned that I had to finish my blog story, which she had not read yet. She asked which story, I told her it was the 2003 arrest, and she rolled her eyes. "I cannot believe you are telling that story." Then she disappeared upstairs.
Back to the story...
The Ford Explorer slowed down as it past the motel parking lot. I watched it turn right onto Highway 31, disappear for a few seconds, then reappear in the shopping center parking lot. I could see in the windows a very confused looking Wookiee behind the wheel, with Mikey and Tom and Shawn with him. The Explorer pulled to the front of the motel, almost looking like they were checking in.
My wrists were a little pained, by the way. Officer Tennessee Titan running back Eddie George had slapped on the handcuffs a little tight, so when Eddie George came back to the car, I asked if he would loosen them a little. I leaned over with my hands out, he obliged, uncuffed and then re-locked them.
Eddie George then turned around to see none other than Deucemate Tom Johnson headed walking towards them. They conversed for a minute or so, apparently with Tom asking permission to take my car back to The Deuce, which was denied, and then asking some questions about my situation... my best guess some years later would be him asking first, "Why is my roommate handcuffed in the back seat of a police car?"
This is different from the question Mikey would have asked, which would be, "Is he going to be deported, and if so, can I get him to sign his rent check real quick?"
Tom came over to the police car, under the watchful eye of Eddie George, looked in the window with a grin and said, "Hey d$." I nodded, "'sup Tom?"
We then chatted for a moment about the weather, about the prospects of Auburn and Alabama this coming fall, the possibility of you know, posting bail and I'm sure Tom made some remark about the soap being dropped and how that was a bad idea.
With Eddie George's permission, Tom was able to go to my car and pull out my debit card. I told Tom to go get about $200 cash out of my account, gave him my pin number, asked him to call Starbucks to let them know I've been delayed (re: detained) and sent him on his way.
About this time, with the fresh smell of bacon in the air, the Vestavia Hill Popo showed up. An old, gruff officer got out, had some words with Eddie George, and just like that, Officer Tennessee Titan running back Eddie George opened the back car door, asked me to step out, and then turned me over to Officer Grumpsalot. Without a word, Officer Grumpsalot opened the back door to his Vestavia Hills Police Cruiser and motioned me inside, which I did with little reaction.
He got behind the wheel, then began the drive up the hill to the Vestavia Hills Police Department. Unlike Eddie George, Officer Grumpsalot didn't say anything. He actually lowered his window about an inch or so, and lit up a smoke. Part of me was bothered by this, because really, I didn't pay a speeding ticket, and had an expired tag... sure that was wrong, and yeah, I need to pay some fines and such, but here I was, sitting in the back of a police car and now the Officer who isn't likely to win any congeniality awards is inhaling a cig, with smoke wafting back to me. There was a cage between us, not glass.
However, another part of me was quite amused by this. I don't feel sorry for anyone in the back of a police car, because whether the punishment fits the crime, the law is what it is, and here's an old school police officer lighting up a Marlboro, and I'm sure if I had said anything about it, he probably would have not only told me where to stick it, whatever "it" might be, he might tell me to go perform bad things on my own accord. So I kept quiet, slowly developing second hand cancer from the ride to the station.
I sighed and half-smiled as we passed Starbucks, the same one that I was supposed to be working at, by now a good 30 minutes. Keep in mind, I'm still wearing my Starbucks hat and my red shirt... and several of the officers frequent this Starbucks. Unfortunately, Eddie George nor Officer Grumpsalot were one of those.
We pulled into the station, he got out, pulled me out and led me inside, through a small lobby and into the booking room. That's right, I said "booking room". I could see the camera set up at the far end, and in the next room, a small counter with a few pads of black ink--fingerprinting. Beyond that, a small doorless entry way leading to what I glimpsed and could only guess to be... jail cells. Two of them, one on each side.
Another man, a tall, heavyset guy who looks like he'd be completely comfortable sitting 1) on a Harley hog and 2) at a buffet, was getting his mugshot taken. Officer Grumpsalot uncuffed me, handed me over to a nice older lady who could have passed for my grandmother, were she not wearing a police uniform and about to take my mug shot. She instructed me to stand in front of the camera, and hold a small black board.
The black board read, in removable tile letters "D-A-V-I-D D-O-L-L-A-R", and had a series of numbers under it. I held it, faced the camera, and it flashed. "Turn to the side, sweetie," she instructed, as if she were offering me a glass of tea to go with my cookies. I turned, held the sign beside me and the camera flashed again.
She led me over to the fingerprinting area, where Philo Beddoe the Biker was standing. She told me to just have a seat until Philo was done. I sat, sighing, leaning back in the chair. Really, I could have been upset... but why? It is what it is. I messed up, I was careless, and I got caught. I honestly found the entire episode more funny than anything else, though I was little worried about missing my shift at Starbucks, and there still was the issue of The Girlfriend Steph Leann, though by now, I had decided to just not tell her.
As I sat, a few of the police officers that I recognized walked in. One, who we called Officer Spill due to his propensity for knocking over drinks on our Starbucks counter (he'd done it twice by this time), saw me, looked bewildered, then smiled. "Well, guess we had better be careful that you don't spit in our drinks, huh?" I smiled back, thinking to myself, "Yep, and you no longer are going to receive quality drinks from my hand."
Remember that scene in "Con Air", when Cyrus the Virus asks Guard Falzon, "Oh, stewardess? Stewardess? What's the in-flight movie today?" and Guard Falzon says,"Well, I think you'll like it, Cyrus. It's called "I'll Never Make Love to a Woman on the Beach Again", and it's preceded by the award-winning short, "No More Steak for Me, Ever". He laughs and walks away, and Cyrus the Virus throws out a fake laugh before saying, "Funny f($**@+, aren't ya?"
I felt like that.
Philo Beddoe was done with his fingerprinting, and the officer led him into the small adjacent room. I heard the groan, followed a few seconds later by the clanging of a jail cell door closing. I was led to the fingerprinting counter, and the older lady with me gently took my left hand, then put my index finger on the ink pad. She rolled it onto the black ink, then moved it over to a large card.
My finger was placed and rolled on a square marked "Left Index". A few seconds later, the square marked "Left Middle" was marred by a black fingerprint, followed by the ring, the pinky, then the thumb.
Philo Beddoe, from inside his cell, called out, "Can I call my brother again?" One of the officers responded, "Yeah, just give me a minute and I'll get you the phone." I asked, "What are you in for?" and Philo Beddoe responded, "Funny thing, really. I got a speeding ticket about five years ago, right before I was moving to Florida. Forgot that I got it. I haven't been back to Birmingham in five years, and I came this weekend to see my parents. Got pulled over for some routine traffic stop, and here I am. What about you?"
"Dude, that sucks. Yeah, kinda the same. Got a ticket I forgot to pay, so here I am."
"Tell you one thing, man. When my brother gets here and gets me out, I ain't never coming back to Birmingham again. That's for dang sure."
I looked at the officer who was finishing up inking and rolling my right hand and asked, "Am I going to be in the jail cell?"
She nodded and said, "Yes."
What was jail like, you ask? Well, all I can say is, the first night's the toughest, no doubt about it. They march you in naked as the day you were born, skin burning and half blind from that delousing crap they throw on you, and when they put you in that cell, when those bars slam home, that's when you know it's for real. Old life blown away in the blink of an eye. Nothing left but all the time in the world to think about it. Most new fish come close to madness the first night. Somebody always breaks down crying. Happens every time. The only question is, who's it gonna be? I remember my first night. Seems like a long time ago.
Fortunately for me, The Deuce saved the day. A police officer came in and saw me, red shirt, black Starbucks hat, black inked fingers and nodded. "Your d$, right?" I nodded. "You got an entourage out here."
I followed him out into the main lobby, and there stood Mikey, Shawn, the honorable Rev'rn Ty, Tom, Wookiee and my buddy Demastus, Atty at Law, and as I walked in, the applauded. I nodded my head, smiled, and bowed.
"So, uh... can I get a ride to work?" I asked into the crowd.
The aftermath started by getting my car out of impound, which cost me about $110. I had to pay my fines, which strangely enough wasn't as much as I thought. Because I had such an old speeding ticket, my license was suspended unbeknownst to me. So when I was stopped, it was taken from me, and I was given a "driving with a suspended license" fine, in addition to my expired tag fine, and of course, the cost of the original ticket. However, I paid $155 the night I was sprung from prison, and subsequently, that was it. I called later, and was told that it was now paid up with my previous payment.
To this day, I'm not sure if the $155 I paid was for the tag, the license or the ticket, or maybe it was discounted because I'm a member in good standing of The Deuce, and truly, The Deuce Abides.
Now... The Girlfriend Steph Leann was another story. I went on to work, and caught much ribbing from the fellow baristas about being a convicted felon in their midst. Bummed a ride home, and the next morning, I got a phone call. It was Stephanie.
"Hey baby, how are ya?" she asked. "I'm great," I responded. I had gone back and forth on whether to tell her or not, and had decided that I would just keep quiet, for now. Perhaps one day, when we were married, sitting on our front porch just covered in grandchildren and saying things like "No!" and "Stop that!", I would pipe up and say, "Hey, let me tell you a funny story about a time before we were engaged."
I never had that chance.
"So how was your night last night? Anything in particular you want to tell me?" she asked. She knew. Somehow, some way, she knew. "Nothing really. Worked. Came home." "Was ARRESTED?!?!?!" "Well, yeah, that too." "Yeah, Ty called me last night. I was eating dinner with my parents, and got this phone call, and had to fake it with them like it was nothing. YOU'D BETTER BE GLAD YOU DIDN'T CALL ME, OR I WOULD HAVE LEFT YOUR (@**# A#($** IN JAIL!!!" (she didn't really say curse words or use punctuation in her comments, but it was rather strong). To this day she still contends that she would have left me there. And to this day, I still remember that Rev'rn Ty sold me out.
All these years later, the whole thing still resonates. Sometimes people ask me if I'm rehabilitated. Well, there's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. Not because I was in jail, or because you think I should be. I look back on the way I was then: a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense to him, tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone and this old man is all that's left. I got to live with that. Rehabilitated? It's just a crap word. So you go on and make your judgements, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don't give a rip.
So there it is. The story that was never told has now been told. Perhaps Mikey, Tom, Wookiee, Shawn-Fu, Ty and The Lovely Steph Leann will remember it differently, but that's how it happened in my mind. Hope you enjoyed my tale of lawlessness, reckless abandon and appreciate the fact I left out the gangster wars and rape from my time in the joint.
Thank you again for reading the blog, and here's to the next 500 posts, to getting to 50,000 hits in the next two years and I'll have you to thank for it all. You guys rock.
On Facebook? Search "Clouds In My Coffee" and become a fan... I'd love to see you.
Not too long ago, I found a website that would print your blog. You can upload it, and within a few seconds, you'd get your blog in a book form that you can print! For a small fee, of course.
Anyway, I did the necessary steps to see what it would look like. And I waited. And I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more. I flew to NYC, saw a Broadway play, flew back, drove to Gadsden, had a nice Waffle House breakfast with NYCJenni, on the way back, stopped and played some gin rummy with KT, found Hurricane Rhett broken down on the side of the road, so I gave him a lift to Tupelo, Mississippi, came back, had dinner with The Lovely Steph Leann while conferencing Erin the Marine Wife on her new book, "Semper Wife", played tennis with Mikey and Jim Courier, then had a six movie marathon starring Amy Adams, whom I'm in love with. And I waited some more.
FINALLY, it came up. And for the low, low price of only $606.45, YOU can order your own copy of Clouds in My Coffee's Blog Book, and enjoy all 1709 pages of it. None of that was a typo.
Whether I'm any good or not is subjective--I'm sure there are some that would never visit this page other than to mock me, and there are others that visit every day... I know that at least 130 people have this page bookmarked in their browser, and many of you have this site linked on your own webpage (though Amy Mc, you don't. And we're going to have to change that somehow). None of that is trying to be all braggadocious, its just a pride of after four years of work, this page has some legs, and keeps growing.
I thought long and hard about what to do for this particular posting... I mean, you don't do your 500th blog every day, and it will be another 3 to 4 years before I get to 1,000, so I wanted to mark the occasion with something a little extra special. I went back and forth on ideas, thinking about actually introducting a website, then thinking I'd do a page of my favorite columns or maybe your favorite columns and then I thought of doing pictures, or music or something... but a few days ago, when The Lovely Steph Leann and I were driving through Vestavia Hills, it hit me. I'd tell a story.
I'd tell a story that hasn't been told online. I'd tell a story that several people know, but perhaps had forgotten... or had heard in second or third hand. I'd tell a story that The Lovely Steph Leann has told me her parents don't even know. Yet, anyway.
Its April 2003. I started at Starbucks on February 1 of that same year, and had been at the brand new Vestavia store for two months. The reasons for working at Starbucks were two fold... first, I had a girlfriend that I really liked a whole heckuva lot. So much so that I wanted to buy this chick a ring. Second, I had debt. I mean, we've covered this in previous blogs here and here, but anyone who knows me knows that in my younger day, I didn't do so very good with money.
Starbucks, at the time, was paying me a nice $6.55 per hour to hustle lattes, sling coffee, grind some beans and truly have a good time. And Starbucks is a good time, don't let anyone ever tell you differently.
Part of my debt was credit cards, part of my debt was personal loans, the majority was student loans, another big chunk was the car payment, and another chunk was the car insurance that I had gotten, finally. (June 2000 was when they mandated that all Alabama drivers have car insurance... guess who just got some?). But, at Starbucks, I was starting to make some headway. I was close to having my first card paid off, my AT&T Universal, and was saving some money up for this ring idea that I had.
The Deuce Guys were happier, especially Mikey, cause suddenly, instead of getting my rent and utility checks up last, or a few days late, I was plopping my power bill check on the bulletin board a good ten days before it was due. I mean, I was pulling at least $300 extra per month, after taxes and it was glorious.
So, its a Friday night. I pull out of The Deuce Parking Lot and onto Southland Drive. Its probably around 515ish or so, I have to be at work at 530ish, and I'm wearing my red Starbucks shirt, apron in my front seat. I leave behind Wookiee on the couch, Mikey on the other couch, Tom in his room and Shawn-Fu on the computer.
Being a Friday, traffic seems a little heavier that normal, and I pull to a stop behind another car at a red light. For those of you unfamiliar with the area, or have been gone so long from it that you barely remember this, Southland Drive is a little road that spills into Highway 31.
Highway 31 is one of the major highways in Birmingham, and if you turn right onto 31, you'll head towards the main Hoover area of the Galleria Mall and towards the towns of Pelham and Alabaster. If you turn left, which I was going to do, you'll pass turn lanes to Interstate 65, you'll go under the 65 overpass, and head into Vestavia Hills.
As I sit on Southland Drive, to my right is a small shopping center that contains Ellis Piano, the Purple Onion (to this day still a fave eatery of myself and The Lovely Steph Leann), David's Bridal (which in the years has since moved down 31) and a few other shops. To my left is a hotel that has gone through several name changes, only being a "brand name" you'd recognize just once, a long time ago. There's a restaurant there called... something or other, but Mikey and I went there once and I remembered it being terrible. The Where We Eatin' Blog would take it down, I'm sure. In the years since, the hotel has been torn down and... well, I'm trying to remember what is even there now.
So, to my right is the shopping center, to my left is the motel... and behind me at this very moment? A police officer. In a police car. And it is at this very moment that I remember... my tag is expired. Its April. I'm a "D", so that means I renew in January. Do the math.
The officer did the math, and before I could utter any sort of profanity that only I and God would hear that I might feel bad about later, the lights came on. The red light changed to green, and I wheeled over into the parking lot of the motel and turned the car off. Another ticket. This will suck. And my girlfriend, the Dating Steph Leann, who has been reminding me of getting this taken care of, will not be happy. However, my thought is to pay it off quickly, and just not mention it. That would be easier, right? Right.
Sighing, I pull my wallet out, or my dayplanner, or whatever it was that I was carrying at the time and set it on the passenger seat, and put both hands on the steering wheel. The big, black, behemoth of an officer came to my window and smiled. He looked like Eddie George, the then-Tennessee Titan running back.
"License and registration, please," he said. Then added, "Proof of insurance." "Yes sir," I replied, friendly enough. I pulled out my license and my Geico insurance information. "Do you know why I pulled you over, d$?" "I am guessing it has something to do with my tag being a couple of months overdue, right?" "Yep," he nodded, writing on his little tablet. Not looking up, he said, "Normally, if its a month late, I don't worry about it, but yours is three months past. I just couldn't let it slip." He looked up, nodded again and turned to his car. "Just sit right there for me, I'll be right back."
Eddie George got back in his police car, and I looked down at the clock. It was 5:42. I was going to be late, and I hated being late. And even worse, Eddie George was taking forever... finally, he got out of his vehicle, and walked back to the car.
"I'm going to ask you to step out of the car, d$," Eddie George said, suddenly sounding very official. Uh... okay...
I unbuckled my seatbelt, opened the door and stepped out. "Can I ask what the problem is, officer?" That is always such a cheesy movie line, until you are forced to ask it for real.
"Are you aware that you have a speeding ticket that is outstanding from 2000?" "Uh... no. But I have a feeling I'm aware of it now." "Please turn around, sir. I'm going to have to take you into custody." "Seriously? Like, you are seriously going to arrest me?" "I'm afraid so."
I turned around, and like something out a comedy, Eddie George grabbed my wrists and I felt the metal around my arms snap into place and the handcuffs were squeezed tightly. Eddie George led me to his car and opened the backseat. He nodded toward the backseat, and I climbed in.
"Well," I asked, looking up at Eddie George. "Now what happens?" "I am a Hoover Police Officer. I've called Vestavia, someone's going to come and take you to their police station." "Okay, officer, seriously... are these handcuffs necessary? I mean, I'm in a Starbucks shirt. You have my keys. Where am I going to go?" "Sorry, man. Its policy. I gotta keep you there."
I then glanced over and looked at my car. Where would it go?
"Can I ask what will happen to my vehicle?" "It's going to be impounded." "Impounded? Like, I live right there," I nodded my head toward a clump of trees. "See those trees? I live on the other side of them. We could walk there in six minutes. Can I not leave the car here?" "Sorry about that... its the rules. This is a private business, so it can't stay here." "What about if... I dunno... you let me drive it, and you follow me back to my apartment. Take me in there. If I try to drive away, you know where I live, or you can just shoot my tires or something." This got a chuckle out of Eddie George, who had had a half-smile on his face already. He seemed as if he knew I was just a guy who made a mistake, was no real harm, but he was just following the rules he had to follow. Didn't fault him for that.
"Man, if you did that and something happened, do you know how much trouble I'd be in? Gotta leave it here." "Oh, I got it... my roommate Tom can just get the keys. I can leave them in the floorboard, he will just drive it back. Seriously, man, if you impound the car, its going to cost me like, a hundred bucks when I could stand on my hood of where my car is right now and throw a baseball through my bedroom window." Now this was a lie, because my arm strength has never been very good, but you get the point.
Again, he chuckled, but shook his head. "No can do, my man. No can do."
Finally, it was time to bring up the elephant in the room, so to speak. Say the awkward thing that was there... let's just say it.... "Did you know you look like Eddie George?"
Eddie George smiled again, "Yeah, I've been told that a few times." "They won 11 last year. Think they'll pick up what they need in the draft?" "Dunno, man. They need some offensive help, McNair can't do it all by himself." "They'll be fine. They got a big year ahead." "Oh, I agree. I see at least 10, 12 wins next season." He pushed a button on his walkie-talkie and took a few steps back.
I sat back as much as I could, though it was harder when your hands are behind your back, pressed against the plastic seat. It was a bonafide plastic bench. I looked around, traffic whizzing by, knowing that I was going to be all kinds of late, or not show up, and I glanced over toward Southland Drive. I couldn't help but grin as I saw a red Ford Explorer, with four faces glued to the window, almost like a scene in a comedy.
In the front, Wookiee, while driving, was staring out the window. Next to him I saw the face of Shawn-Fu, and behind them, I saw the face of Tom Johnson and Mikey. The Explorer was going about seven miles per hour, all faces glued on the red car that they knew was mine parked in the parking lot, and probably the shape in the backseat of the police cruiser that they knew was me.
Mikey called The Rev'rn Ty, and said only, "Ty. The (fecal matter) has hit the fan."
Tonight was fun, as after church, The Lovely Steph Leann and I went down the road to Veteran's Park, right beside Spain Park High School, to check out the Shelby County Tea Party. We knew that Rick & Bubba, local radio idols, were helping to put it on, and Sean Hannity was behind it as well, so we wanted to show our support to the cause. The cause? Less government spending. Less government altogether. I can dig it.
We chanted "U-S-A" along with the rest of the crowd, shouted and cheered at the "People who work should not be over-taxed to support those who don't!" sentiments, and booed at the "Congress thinks that ALL of you are rich, and don't need to keep what you earned!". It was an all around fun evening... until...
We got in the car. The Lovely Steph Leann looked at me, and said, "Did you... uh... rip one?" I said, "No, I didn't." She said, "Are you sure?" and I looked at her increduously, "Dear, I'm pretty sure I'd know if I had gas. I don't."
We drove around the parking lot for a few minutes, working our way through the line, and again she said, "Are you sure? Did you just pooty that time?" All women have their own special terms, knowing that "fart" is kind of a crude word. "Pooty" happens to be the term of choice for The Lovely Steph Leann. "No, I didn't. You certainly are gastronomically accusational tonight, aren't you?"
Finally, a third time, she asked me, and by this time I was smelling something gawd-awful... and I reached up, flipped on the lights and it was there we discovered that The Lovely Steph Leann had apparently stepped into a fresh pile of pet poopy. And it was terrible. She started (understandably) complaining, and I handed her some napkins... keep in mind she had not changed clothes from work, so she still had on her nice leather slip-ons
I pulled off into a subdivision down the road a bit, laughing out loud by now, as she stepped out, wiping all that she could off with the napkins, getting it on her hands. I'm holding my nose because its so terrible, and still laughing, and finally she looks up and said, "David. I really need you to NOT laugh right now. Really." That was my cue, and though it took biting my lip, I held the laughter to nil.
The poo in question apparently was over most of the bottom of her shoe, as well as on the side of her shoe, in the little leather creases and stitching. I luckily found a plastic bag in the backseat to toss all the napkins in, but all the way home she sat, one shoe on, one shoe with a napkin wrapped around it, hands on knees, open palms up. It was dark, so I thankfully could not see her hands, but it did smell.
The Lovely Steph Leann has now spent the last 30 minutes wiping her shoes down, scrubbing poopy off of the sides, trying to wash her hands and like a good hubby, I sit, wait for her to finish so we can start Idol and will get up and help when I'm call upon. __________________________________
RESULTS...
The Lovely Steph Leann just sat down, looked at me and simply said four words... "That was so disgusting."
THIS IS
AMERICAN IDOL!!!!
Tonight, Miley Cyrus will no doubt perform "The Climb", a song that I have now heard about 73 times in the last week or so, as its on the big screen at The Happiest Place in the Mall every day, all day.
Seacrest reminds us that the judges--Randy the Dawg, Kara the New Hotness, Paula the Flake and Simon the Cowell--still have the Lambert/Gokey Memorial Save left, allowing them to overturn the people's vote.
And early in the show, they sneak in that Ford commercial! We already saw it! Those sneaky Idol devils... but they won't pull one over on us for this group song, this time from "Flashdance", its Michael Sambello's "Maniac", a song that should not be performed unless someone is wearing leg warmers. No one under 30 will get that joke.
We do see the Idols going to the premiere of "17 Again", a movie that I think will be pretty funny.
But, let's dim the lights. My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta stands... could she be in the bottom three, headed to the Silver Stools of Failure, or will she stay seated on the Couch of Safety? After the nationwide vote... My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta stays My Next American Idol!
The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert stands! And flames! And sits down again!
Look! Its The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert! No, I'm serious. This is really him... doing his drag queen thing. Oh, you should see the ones I didn't save and post. Just try googling "Adam Lambert" and "Drag". Cindy Jo, this is for you.
Five Idols left, three Bottom Three spots left. I'm guessing Anoop Dawg, Lil Rounds and Matty G, and Lil Rounds goes and sits down again--and after two straight weeks in the Bottom Three, he makes it a third week in a row.
Before we find out who joins The Eyebrowed One, we get to see Jennifer Hudson perform a little. I often wonder if Fantasia looks at her and throws things at the screen, thinking that should be her. Or if Kimberly Locke looks at Jennifer Hudson, and wonders why she didn't get those breaks.
Normally I would fast forward, but The Lovely Steph Leann has requested to watch. And after the... well, crappy... night she's had, I'll oblige. By the way, Jenn Hudson sounds great.
Seacrest heads over to the Couch of Safety, asking Kris Allen to stand. Lil Rounds stands up beside him. Simon the Cowell tosses in, "Kris, I didn't get to speak last night, but I thought you were brilliant." Kris Allen sits down on the Couch of Safety, Lil Rounds heads to the Silver Stools of Failure. Which means Matty G cannot feel good sitting next to The Widower Danny Gokey.
The Goke is wearing one of his "Ticket to the Gun Show" kind of shirts, as in, tight on the arms. Matty G is in the Bottom Three, and we all knew this, despite Seacrest's attempts to throw us off with the verbage. Kara the New Hotness agrees that this is the right group, Paula the Abdul agrees.
Seacrest does the "goes back to the Couch of Safety" routine, picking Anoop Dawg to go back. Fast forward through commercials, and here's Miley Cyrus! And the >> button on the remote, there goes Miley Cyrus! Seacrest asks Simon the Cowell about who they'd save, and Simon the Cowell responds that there is one they might save... and it might be a surprise... hmmm..
Dim the lights! After the nationwide vote of over 36,000,000, Matty G and Lil Rounds stand... and Lil Rounds is safe. (The Lovely Steph Leann says, "Crap" under her breath). This leaves Matty G singing for his life.
The judges confer as Matty G sings... they only have 2 more weeks to use this blasted save thing, which is not going to be used on The Ambiguously Gay Adam or The Widower Danny Gokey, because neither will be in the Bottom Three. As Matty G sings the song, Kara the New Hotness and Paula the Flake sway and sing along.
The crowd is chanting "Save! Save! Save!" and rightfully so, cause Matty G did much, much better than last night. Simon the Cowell disagrees, saying that he doesn't think that Matty G has a shot at winning the competition. That being said... Matty G gets the Save!
The Idols rush out, giving Matty G huge props and hugs, but Simon the Cowell breaks the news... next week, 2 people go home. And its Disco Week.
To that, The Lovely Steph Leann looks up from her blankie and says, "Why do we even have Disco Week? What is the purpose? I don't even think Simon likes it!"
And that's your Idol. Samson blog coming later tonight/early morning.
__________________________________
PERFORMANCES...
Another week, another Idol... its the Top Seven, now that Scott the Blind Vampire is gone. Tonight's theme is Music from the Movies, and tonight's guest? Quentin Tarantino. He did this once before, several years back (I'm sure I could look it up, but I'll find it later) and he did a pretty good job--he wasn't a push over and seemed to be pretty honest.
In any case...
THIS IS
AMERICAN
IDOL!!!
Tarantino is known for his musical selections in his films, with my favorite song from my favorite QT movie being The George Baker Selection's "Little Green Bag", probably in my Top 10 or Top 15 songs of all time.
THE FIRST TEN SECONDS OF THIS VIDEO IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK. EMMY TURNBOW IS NOT ALLOWED TO PRESS PLAY...
This is the brilliant opening to "Reservoir Dogs", a film in The Dave100. It truly is a cool, cool scene, one that we recreated some years later, taking some photographs for the cover of our first Deuce CD.
Our judges... Randy the Dawg, Kara the New Hotness, Paula the Flake and Simon the Cowell all sit, ready to strike fear into opinions. Ryan the Seacrest is discussing the show that over ran the clock last week, messing up the start of "Fringe" for Wendi Deckermiller and others, and causing the judges to not be able to love-fest on The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert.
My favorite Tarantino films, top to bottom... Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill, Death Proof, Kill Bill Volume 2, Jackie Brown... and I'm pretty pumped for his new film, Inglourious Basterds. And QT is assisting the Idols with their song choice... whats great about this is that he doesn't sing, he just knows what sounds good and what doesn't. And he's admittedly an avid Idol fan.
This is the cover of A Very Deuce Soundtrack, one of three CDs we put out during the Deuce days of 2000 through 2004. We call it "Reservoir Christians". From left to right, Yours Truly, Mikey Nipp, Justin Glenn, Shawn Sharp, Wookiee, Tom Johnson, Daniel Powell. Imagine "Little Green Bag" as we walk. We rocked.
My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta is going to do something that might be hard to do... make "I Don't Want to Hear a Thing" (from "Armageddon", by Aerosmith) a song that I enjoy. Cause really, it was Aerosmith's first number 1 single, which is a shame, because "Sweet Emotion" is one of the best driving songs in the history of the world. Along with "La Grange" and "Everything Zen" by ZZ Top and Bush, respectively.
Anyway... My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta is doing the song justice, as well as can be expected for this particular song. Really, though, towards the end it kinda falls apart, which is too bad.
Paula the Flak tells her she's authentic. Simon the Cowell calls her the only hope for the girls. I agree! That's why she's my next American Idol! Simon the Cowell says that she might go all the way to the end. Randy the Dawg and Kara the New Hotness don't talk, as part of a "taking turns, two at a time talking" deal in order to save time.
We're told that Anoop Dawg is going to sing "Everything I Do (I do it for you)" by Bryan Adams, from "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves", a movie probably in The Lovely Steph Leann25. Seriously... that movie is good. Its kitchy, its cheesy, its a little hammy... but its still awesome. Morgan Freeman is great, Alan Rickman is fantastic, and for a time, Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio was the hottest thing in the world, at least in my eyes. This movie, plus "The Abyss" (a movie in The Dave20), she was a knockout.
One of The Lovely Steph Leann's favorite parts in all of moviedom is where Maid Marian looks out, sees Robin Hood, and does that crazy loud "RRRROOOOOBBBBBIIIINNN!!!!!!" scream. She could watch that over and over. And has.
So Anoop Dawg is doing the Bryan Adams song... its not bad, actually. Honestly, though, a few weeks back he broke through doing the ballad, and he's done nothing but ballads since then. Might be time for him to go a little faster.
Randy the Dawg says The Eyebrowed One did a great job, while Kara the New Hotness says that Anoop adds soul to the pop song, and it was one of his best vocals so far. Heck, what do I know?
Now comes time for The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert to do to Steppenwolf what he did to Johnny Cash. Throw a classic song on the ground, kick it with a platform shoe, then spear it with a gay triangle. "Born to Be Wild" is from "Easy Rider", the road film starring Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper, a film that I've only seen once and can only be described from me as "interesting". I can see how it can be considered a classic, especially for the time period (1969), but I can also understand how it can be considered overrated and silly.
So, The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert... you know, it wouldn't be bad if he just wouldn't do that Ambiguously Gay Scream. Or maybe if he didn't sing at all, it wouldn't be bad either. His screeching reminds me of when Axl Rose does the screeching at the end of "Paradise City" or "Welcome to the Jungle", only without the coolness.
Paula the Flake loves him. Simon the Cowell says vocally it was incredible, but visually it was like watching "The Rocky Horror Picture Show". I agree!
Matty G is up with another Bryan Adams song, this one from "Don Juan DeMarco", starring Johnny Depp. The song is "Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?", a song that isn't one of my favorite Bryan Adams songs. You wouldn't know it by the soft stuff he did in the mid-90s (dear goodness, don't get me started on that stupid "All for Love" song he did with Sting and Rod Stewart.. one of the worst songs I've ever heard in my entire life),but truly, in the 80s, he rocked out... "Run to You", "Heaven", even in the 90s, with "Can't Stop the Thing We Started" from the "Waking Up the Neighbours" album (a great CD, by the way).
Never seen the movie.
Matty G is pretty good behind that piano. Still, Randy the Dawg didn't like it as much, while Kara the New Hotness didn't like the song choice.
The love of my friend Cindy Jo is up next, that being The Widower Danny Gokey. The Gokerino has picked up a guitar and is learning it, hoping to be ready for the Idol tour. He's choosing "Endless Love" by Lionel Richie & Diana Ross, though I'm guessing The Goke will be doing Lionel Richie's version, from the 1981 movie of the same name.
Have you ever seen this movie? Its ridiculous. Seriously ridiculous. Brooke Shields is in her young movie phase, looking all 80s fine and all, but her character's name is Jade Butterfield. How can you expect me to take any movie seriously with a main ingenue named Jade Butterfield? It's not, however, quite a ridiculous as "The Blue Lagoon".
Paula the Flake loved it. Simon the Cowell didn't like the song as much. There was a harp involved tonight, and is disappointed that The Goke didn't do alot with it. He compared him to when Cook took "Hello" last week and rocked it out. Somewhere, somehow, Cindy Jo is squealing like a little girl in the playground.
Kris Allen is singing the song "Falling Slowly" from the movie "Once". The only reason I know anything about this song is that it won the Academy Award for best song in 2008, beating out 2 songs from the far superior "Enchanted", and yes, I only say that because I'm in love with Amy Adams. So there.
What? Did someone call for a picture of Amy Adams? Who am I to disagree?
So hundreds of thousands of movies out there, thousands and thousands of viable movie songs and we get "Falling Slowly", "Endless Love" and two different Bryan Adams songs? Really?
That being said... Kris Allen is awesome. Like, really awesome. Dude has come on strong and if My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta falls, he might be My Next American Idol In Waiting.
Randy the Dawg didn't care for it that much, calling it pitchy. Kara the New Hotness thought it was one of Kris Allen's best moments. I agree!
I think I just heard Seacrest say that Lil Rounds was doing "The Rose". Really? Talk about a boring, overdone song. She has the ENTIRE BODYGUARD SOUNDTRACK TO BLOW THROUGH and she picks a Bette Midler song from a Bette Midler movie that no one ever thinks about or remembers they've seen unless its brought up in conversation via a show like American Idol.
Heck, Lil Rounds, pick something from "Woo" or "B.A.P.S." or something by Tyler Perry. But "The Rose"? Sigh.
She does put a slight gospel feel to it, which for me, saves the entire performance, but still... she's got a great voice, she can sing, we all know this, but give me some soul! Give me some funk! Show off that blackness, which means you can do stuff that most of 'em can't do! Come on' sista!
Paula the Flake loved it. Simon the Cowell says that the song was soft and safe and that she isn't the artist that they met in auditions. I agree!
So my favorites of the night... Kris Allen, My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta, Anoop Dawg, Lil Rounds, The Widower Danny Gokey, Matty G, the sounds of the bad gas I had the other night after eating mexican food, and finally, The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert
