Josh o' Trades

Third Time's The Charm....

2011-02-21T11:50:00.000-08:00

It's that time again. Recently, a wave went out across the Cortex:

If you've the talent (and the nerve), design the 2011 CSTS Logo.

Once again, a few creative Browncoats - myself included - took up the call.

Here are the 2 Options I came up with:

Option A:

Option B:

We sent the signal out and a few of the brave and bold with their brilliant artistical skillz took up the gauntlet (and their pallets) to create this year’s promotional art.

We sent the signal out and a few of the brave and bold with their brilliant artistical skillz took up the gauntlet (and their palettes) to create this year’s promotional art.

We know it’s gonna be a challenge – but we need you, the good folk of the ‘Verse, to help us choose which one will become the official artwork for Can’t Stop the Serenity 2011! You can only vote once and you’ve only got until March 6 to get your voice heard and your vote counted.

So vote and then tell your friends to spread the word and come help us choose the best of the best.

View Entries

Vote Now

Voting Closes March 6, 2011 12:59 PM PST

-Jos

"Endurance is frequently a form of indecision." ~Elizabeth Bibesco

Second 'Verse, Same As The First

2010-02-24T05:41:00.000-08:00

It's that time again. Recently, a wave went out across the Cortex:

If you've the talent (and the nerve), design the 2010 CSTS Logo.

Once again, a few creative Browncoats - myself included - took up the call.

Here are the 3 ideas I came up with:

We sent the signal out and a few of the brave and bold with their brilliant artistical skillz took up the gauntlet (and their pallets) to create this year’s promotional art.

We know it’s gonna be a challenge - but we need you, the good folk of the ‘Verse, to help us choose which one will become the official artwork for CSTS 2010. You can only vote once and you’ve only got until March 1st to get your voice heard and your vote counted.

So vote and then tell your friends to spread the word and come help us choose the best of the best.

View Entries

Vote Now

Voting Closes March 1, 2010 12:59 PM PST

-Jos

"Art is the only way to run away without leaving home." ~Twyla Tharp

The Muppets - Bohemian Rhapsody

2009-11-30T05:41:00.001-08:00

Happy Monday!!

Hope everyone had a safe and fun Thanksgiving!!

-Jos

"Let us remember that, as much has been given us, much will be expected from us, and that true homage comes from the heart as well as from the lips, and shows itself in deeds." ~Theodore Roosevelt

Shiny!!

2009-10-30T08:01:00.001-07:00

Happy Halloween, Everybody!!!

-Jos

Mal: Does, uh... does this seem kind of tight?

Kaylee: Shows off your backside. Did you see the chandelier? It's hovering.

Mal: What's the point of that, I wonder?

Kaylee: Oh, mangos!

Mal: I mean, I see how they did it. I just ain't gettin' the why.

Kaylee: These girls have the most beautiful dresses. And so do I. How 'bout that?

Mal: Yeah, well, just be careful. We cheated Badger out of good money to buy that frippery, and you're supposed to make me look respectable.

Kaylee: Yes, sir, Cap'n Tight-Pants.

Thank The Maker

2009-10-07T10:46:00.001-07:00

In what can only be an answer to a very old prayer, we're finally getting the chance to be part of the magic that first took place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.......

The twisted geniuses at Star war Uncut are handing over the keys of the asylum to we inmates.

Here's our chance to film our own version of Star Wars, albeit 15 seconds at a time....

This is too good to pass up!!!!

Who's with me?

-Jos

"Dreaming is an act of pure imagination, attesting in all men a creative power, which if it were available in waking, would make every man a Dante or Shakespeare." ~H.F. Hedge

Two Weeks

2009-10-01T06:19:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago today, Babs and my world was forever turned on its head.

Peter Alec Stratton was born September 17, 2009 at 10:45pm. Weight was 8 lbs 1oz. Length was 19 3/4 inches.

Both Mom and Baby are doing well. Pete's had a bit of jaundice at first, but seems to be getting past that rather quickly. His 2 week check-up is later on today, and we'll see if he's back up to his birth weight (he was down to 7lbs 5oz when he came home).

He is truly a blessing and Babs and I couldn't be happier!!!

Thanks for all the well wishes and support these past 14 days. We look forward to seeing how Pete will change our lives for the rest of our lives.

-Jos

"A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on." ~Carl Sandburg

Never Forget....

2009-09-11T09:59:00.000-07:00

"This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave." ~Elmer Davis

John Hughes Is Gone, But Not Forgotten....

2009-08-07T08:47:00.001-07:00

Sad, sad day...

-Jos
"Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?"

"Um, he's sick. My best friend's sister's boyfriend's brother's girlfriend heard from this guy who knows this kid who's going with the girl who saw Ferris pass out at 31 Flavors last night. I guess it's pretty serious."

A More Civilized Time.....

2009-08-04T05:57:00.001-07:00

-Jos

“Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no substitute for a good blaster at your side...” - Han Solo

Nothing So Small.....

2009-07-20T13:48:00.000-07:00

"Houston, Tranquility Base here...."

"The eagle has landed!"

Mare Tranquilitatis

2009-07-16T08:03:00.000-07:00

“First, I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the Moon and returning him safely to the Earth. No single space project in this period will be more impressive to mankind, or more important in the long-range exploration of space; and none will be so difficult or expensive to accomplish.”
-President John F. Kennedy - May 25, 1961

Forty years ago today, three men set out to fulfill the hopes and dreams of not only the 400,000+ men and women of the Apollo Program, not only the United States of America, but of all mankind.

Launching from the Kennedy Space Center near Cape Canaveral, Florida, at 9:32 am local time, Apollo 11 took to the stars. Mission Commander Neil Alden Armstrong, Command Module Pilot Michael Collins, and Lunar Module Pilot Edwin Eugene 'Buzz' Aldrin, Jr. would carry the weight of the world on their shoulders for the entire four and a half day voyage from the Earth to the Moon.

NASA, working alongside the Kennedy Library & Museum, has launched We Choose The Moon, an interactive website that follows the events of the Apollo 11 Mission in real-time.

Go take a look. You’ll be glad you did.

God speed, Apollo 11!

-Jos

“We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.”
- President John F. Kennedy

Real Vampires Don't Sparkle

2009-06-23T10:24:00.001-07:00

Just sayin'...

-Jos
"Keep smiling - it makes people wonder what you've been up to." ~Author Unknown

June 6

2009-06-06T11:06:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday, Baby!!

Love ya!!

-Jos

A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age. ~Robert Frost

Year 2

2009-06-02T11:34:00.000-07:00

Babs-

Thanks for a wonderful two years together as man and wife. You are the very best part of me.

I love ya, Babe!!

-Josh

A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person. ~Mignon McLaughlin

Can't Stop The Music 2009

2009-05-22T06:54:00.000-07:00

Can't Stop The Music: Women's Showcase

SUNDAY, MAY 24th from 4-9 PM

Poor David's Pub 1313 South Lamar

(Downtown Dallas, 2 short blocks south of the Dallas Convention Center and 1/2 block west of the Cedars Dart Station)

Join us for a fun filled Browncoat gathering with phenomenal music, Whedonverse trivia, raffle items, and a caricature artist to create sketches too!

Proceeds raised will be donated to Equality Now.

This is an all ages show. 17 & unders are welcome.

Guests include:

Marian Call

Marian is a nerd extraordinaire living in Anchorage, Alaska, and touring the country as a singer-songwriter. She writes songs that appeal to all audiences, but nearly always encodes a deeper, encrypted layer of meaning for fannish friends who know what to listen for. Though new on the scene, she now plays for Browncoat and BSG events around the country. Her new album "Got to Fly" was commissioned by Quantum Mechanix, Inc., and consists entirely of songs about Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, and a life of fandom.

Inner Frequency

Members: Cara Young - Vocals; Luke Carnevale - Acoustic Guitar; Barry Dyer - Electric Guitar; Brad Brock - bass; Jon Mosig - drums

Cara and Luke connected through a musician website in 2005 and discovered a strong song-writing chemistry. Both were writing songs alone, but needed a partner to complete the picture. Some songs in the Inner Frequency catalog were written by Cara (Big Talker, Satellite, I Like You Better), others by Luke (Sometimes, Preacher Man, Luv Drug), and some were collaborative efforts (Inner Frequency, Yeah Yeah, Fairy Tale You, Exposed). “Luke and I balance each other out really well. Though we rarely sit and write a song together in the same room, our ideas always seem to complement each other,” says Cara.

Cara’s strong, sultry voice has reminded listeners of Annie Lennox, Grace Slick, and Johnette Napolitano (Concrete Blonde). She grew up singing in church, musical theater, and pageants (yes, that makes her cringe). She sang all the way through college, but then took a few years off until she found Luke to work with.

Today, Inner Frequency includes Brad Brock on bass and Jon Mosig on drums, and Barry Dyer - Electric Guitar. Highlights from last year included opening for Eddie Money, headlining the Deep Ellum Arts Festival, and participating in the GoGirls Musicfest.

Inner Frequency recorded their debut EP The Lemmontree Project with Dustin Mason at Lemmontree Studios in 2005.The band plans to return to the studio this summer to finish their full-length album with Will Hunt. The tunes on Surge will be on the release, along with at least seven more tracks from their accumulating set list of originals.

Morning Elephant

Founded by formidable Dallas musicians Manya Repnikova &Clay Pendergrass. They are often joined by the featured musicians that appear on their self titled debut album. Morning Elephant combines beats, bright compositions and effervescent guitar work to generate music overflowing with echo-coated sounds.

Kristina Morland

Kristina's new album, Pidgin Music, is a delightful collection of snapshot songs, seemingly plucked from a prized but recently rediscovered shoe box filled with poetry and journals.

Instrumentation in Morland's are constant reblendings of gypsy, folk and pop music elements, with one overriding exception: Morland's vocals, which contrast soulfully, purposely against the backdrop in a classical jazz, slightly Billie Holiday sort of way.

In a town filled beyond capacity with great talent, Kristina has an especially powerful gift, more than just rivaling her more-famous contemporaries. Her voice performances have already fetched comparisons with the likes of Feist and Joanna Newsome (who Morland admits she had to stop listening to while penning songs for Pidgin Music, in fear of sounding too much like one of her own favorite artists).

Come join us for a fun night of music and entertainment!

Keep flying!
-Jos

AlabamaPink: 1975 – 2009

2009-03-27T07:17:00.000-07:00

I find myself today mourning the death of a young woman that I’ve never met. Had not even heard of until a few short months ago.

Pink was a contributor on a website that I frequent and was known for her quick wit, her eloquent turn of phrase, a personification with True Romance’s Alabama Whitman, and a life-long devotion to Alice In Wonderland. And while I had only read a few of her diatribes, I was saddened to learn of her leukemia diagnosis.

Back in the fall, partly to fill the time between chemotherapy and radiation treatment sessions and partly to use said time to berate fellow contributor Brian Prisco, she proposed a contest of stellar proportions, The Cannonball Read.

The rules were simple: 1 Year – 100 Books

1. A book is more than 200 pages.
2. No graphic novels. Read them anyone, because they will kill the dumb brain cells with awesomesauce, but they don't count for this.
3. Post your thoughts on a blog or on a website, or somewhere where others can read it to prove you've read.

Pink never lost hope. Even when the treatments failed, she never faltered. She is/was an inspiration to everyone she met. And she leaves behind a legacy that she believed fully in.

Amanda “AlabamaPink” Amos died Wednesday, March 25, due to complications from her leukemia. She leaves behind a loving husband, a three-year-old son, and countless admirers.

So to respect Amanda and her friends and family, I’m throwing my hat into the ring, and joining the Cannonball Read. I only stated keeping track of the books I’ve read since the 1st of January. So that’s where I’m starting.

Be looking for book reviews to follow. Probably every Friday until I catch up.

Good night, Sweet Maid. See you on the other side of the Looking Glass.

"In the dark here
I remember your loving hugs
Urging me on.
I can still see you gathered
Such an unlikely family
And I know I can find my way home."
~Amanda “AlabamaPink” Amos

Can't Stop The Serenity 2009 Poster Contest

2009-03-04T14:50:00.000-08:00

A month ago, a wave went out across the Cortex:

If you've the talent (and the nerve), design the 2009 CSTS Poster and Tee Shirt

A few creative Browncoats - myself included - took up the call.

Here are 4 ideas I came up with:

We sent the signal out and a few of the brave and bold with their brilliant artistical skillz took up the gauntlet (and their pallets) to create this year’s promotional art.

We know it’s gonna be a challenge - but we need you, the good folk of the ‘Verse, to help us choose which one will become the official artwork for CSTS 2009. You can only vote once and you’ve only got until March 12th to get your voice heard and your vote counted.

So vote and then tell your friends to spread the word and come help us choose the best of the best.

View Entries

Vote Now

Voting Closes March 12, 2009 12:59 PM PST

-Jos

"Drawing is putting a line round an idea." ~Henri Matisse

Turner Classic Movies TCM Remembers 2008

2008-12-17T06:29:00.001-08:00

"People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad." ~Marcel Proust

Every Little Bit Helps....

2008-12-05T09:37:00.000-08:00

A Little Bit of Everything
By: Julie Pici

“A painter paints pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence.” ~Leopold Stokowski

To ~~completely rip-off~~ paraphrase F. Scott Fitzgerald, “Let me tell you about the talented, they’re not like you or me.” Or something like that. Such is the case with a very dear friend of mine, Julie Pici.

To say that Julie is talented is like saying that water is wet. Or that the Great Wall may be China’s way of overcompensating for something. Or that Bill Gates got beat up every day until he was in his 20’s. It’s a given….

No, Jules is one of those very rare individuals that can only make the rest of us look bad. Her stats are impressive: Actress, photographer, painter, dancer, writer, princess, professional mover (and shaker), and master jewelry maker. And that was just last week! What have you done lately?

However, it’s her music I’d like to take a little time to talk about right now.

During the past 12 months - in-between the 83 moves from Texas to all 7 continents and 4 or 5 coasts along the way - Julie decided to use her powers for good and make the world just a little bit brighter because of it. She took a sampling of all her life experiences and poured them into a little CD titled: A Little Bit of Everything. And it’s one of the best I’ve heard in a while.

The album starts off strong with several praise songs, including I’m Free, an energetic number complete with electric guitar and a great chorus. Did I mention that Julie recorded all the vocals and played all the instruments herself? Yeah, just to make us feel better about all those music lessons we didn’t take. This leads right into U.R., a fun little song with a steady beat and a great message. Jennifer’s Song is perfect when you’re reminded that all of God’s people don’t always have all the answers. The King Is Come is a wonderful telling of the Good News in just under 6 minutes.

A couple of my favorites include My Life Is So Much Better, a song dedicated to Julie’s Mom, and My Heart Is Beating For You, an up-tempo number with a beat that stays with you. Seriously, I find myself humming it while I’m stuck in client meetings. Another favorite has to be It Is What It Is, a humorous accounting of Julie & Ralph’s latest relocation to warmer climates. And while I’m pretty sure Might As Well wasn’t written about me, there’s always a chance it was.

The two most powerful tracks are I’m Home, written for several friends fighting in the Middle East, and I’ll Remember You, a haunting performance dedicated to the memory of a close friend. These 2 songs alone are worth the purchase price.

All in all, there are 18 tracks for you to listen to and fall in love with. Please order a copy for you and a few more to give as gifts. And it’s all for a good cause.

Not that you should need any other incentive to purchase this fantastic album produced by an amazing talent.

But, after 12 years of married bliss, there’s still one area that Julie hasn’t mastered: Motherhood. She and Ralph are trying to raise funds to help the growing costs of adoption. Trust me, you’ll never meet more deserving people.

If you’re able to contribute, please do. Every “little bit” helps…

Hope everyone has a great weekend!
-Jos

"The course of life is unpredictable... no one can write his autobiography in advance." ~Abraham Joshua Heschel

Go Kiss A Wookie

2008-11-21T07:33:00.001-08:00

Thank my wife, for getting this stuck in my head last night.

So I'm returning the favor...to all of you.

Enjoy!

-Jos

"Music is the art which is most nigh to tears and memory." ~Oscar Wilde

What A Difference A Year Makes.....

2008-11-20T10:52:00.000-08:00

So, today marks exactly one year since I walked out of TSM forever.

And, I can truthfully say, I’ve never been happier!

Sure, it was hard to leave my team behind, but the majority of us have been reunited in a better - if not closer - working endeavor.

For those of you not in the know, JoT HQ has been relocated to the Grand Prairie area. Yeah, I’m about 3 or 4 blocks from the new Cowboys stadium. The traffic’s been…fun. Thanks for asking! The 40 mile commute adds up to right at 1 hour one-way. So, that’s been swell too......

Babs is in school part time and is working full time in the corporate dining arena. She’s having a blast.

The Apocalypse Queen and I are wrapping up a run of Annie Oakley for WOMP. It’s been a great show, and if you’re in the North TX area, you should drop in and heckle us, if nothing else.

Hope everyone is doing well and having a good week. Next week is Thanksgiving for us yanks, and Babs is making all the fixings should any outcast orphans find themselves turkey-less this year. Just give us a call and stop on by......

Until next time-
Jos

"He that will not apply new remedies must expect new evils; for time is the greatest innovator." ~Francis Bacon

Oh, JJ Abrams, Save Me!

2008-11-19T10:42:00.001-08:00

"Why should people go out and pay money to see bad films when they can stay home and see bad television for nothing?" ~Samuel Goldwyn

Annie Oakley - This Weekend & Next!

2008-11-14T11:24:00.000-08:00

Hope to see you there!

-Jos

"History is herstory, too." ~Author Unknown

The world is a mess and I just need to rule it....

2008-07-16T18:42:00.000-07:00

Go one, go all. Captain Hammer must be stopped. AT ALL COSTS!!!!

Sing Along with me now....

-Jos

Happy Valloween!

2008-02-14T05:45:00.001-08:00

Happy Friday!

2007-10-26T06:08:00.001-07:00

Guess We All Knew This One, Didn't We? Sigh....

2007-10-25T17:32:00.000-07:00

Your Score: Modern, Cool Nerd

78 % Nerd, 73% Geek, 30% Dork

For The Record:

A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.

A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.

A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.

You scored better than half in Nerd and Geek, earning you the title of: Modern, Cool Nerd.

Nerds didn't use to be cool, but in the 90's that all changed. It used to be that, if you were a computer expert, you had to wear plaid or a pocket protector or suspenders or something that announced to the world that you couldn't quite fit in. Not anymore. Now, the intelligent and geeky have eked out for themselves a modicum of respect at the very least, and "geek is chic." The Modern, Cool Nerd is intelligent, knowledgable and always the person to call in a crisis (needing computer advice/an arcane bit of trivia knowledge). They are the one you want as your lifeline in Who Wants to Be a Millionaire (or the one up there, winning the million bucks)!

Congratulations!

Thanks Again! -- THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST

Link: The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test written by donathos on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Hope everyone is having a good week.
-Jos

"There is nobody so irritating as somebody with less intelligence and more sense than we have." ~Don Herold

Keep Goulet Away

2007-09-11T05:55:00.001-07:00

Still one of the funniest commercials of last year's Super Bowl....

-Jos
"Humor is the great thing, the saving thing. The minute it crops up, all our irritation and resentments slip away, and a sunny spirit takes their place." ~Mark Twain

Year One

2007-09-04T11:56:00.000-07:00

Hey Kids.

It's hard to believe that Babs and I have been together for a year now.

It seems like just yesterday, the Browncoats and I were just getting back from Galveston:

Little did I know that a simple night of pool would change my life forever.

And that led right into October and the Halloween Costume Extravaganza:

And that ran into the November trip to the Windy City and the Christmas of No Vacation.

Which, in turn, led to The Question on my birthday.

Then we had the Warm-Up with Zoë and Wash. (Sorry, couldn't find any photos of the happy day.)

Which, in the end, led to this:

So, now, a year has passed. (Since Babs and I met, that is. Not the wedding. That was just 4 months ago, sorry.)

We celebrated our anniversary by taking a mini-vacation on Saturday to Ft. Worth.

Our first stop? Yep, you guessed it...

This is me, after all.

And where I could have easily been this guy, complete with tee shirt and cheep lightsaber:

I wasn't. Instead, I was this one:

See? Much more dignified. I thought so, too.

Yeah, Babs was happy as well. -Just wait until Halloween this year. :)

The exhibit was a lot of fun, and I hope you got to go see it.

When we were finished with the exhibit, we made our way to the hotel, but we couldn't check-in yet, so we ventured to The Not Quite The Happy Store, But Close Enough Store.

Afterward, Babs and I checked into our hotel, the Ft. Worth Hilton, formerly the Texas Hotel, where President Kennedy spoke the last full day of his life.

There was even an anti-war rally going on right next-door. It caused quite a parking logistics problem, as the rally broke up right around the 4pm check-in time. And as the Hilton was valet parking only, it took a while on the one-way streets to get back in front of the hotel.

Anyway, we got a room on the 6th floor, and walked down to Sundance Square-

No, no. Sundance Square, you know, the one in Ft. Worth?

Yes, much better.

We had dinner at Razzoo's,complete with catfish, shrimp, and fried pickles. We spent the rest of the evening walking around the Square.

Sunday, we slept in, had a nice stroll along the Square to Jamba Juice to break our fast, and made our way to the Kimble Art Museum.

We made it back Sunday afternoon safe and sound to a house full of hungry cats.

All in all, it was a great vacation, and to have Monday off as well was just icing on the cake!

Hope everyone had a safe and restful holiday!

-Jos

"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." ~Author Unknown

A Day Like Any Other

2007-08-31T08:00:00.000-07:00

Your Birthdate: December 31

You're a pretty traditional person. If it's lasted, it's probably good.
You seek stability - both in your career and your romantic relationship.
In return, you're very loyal and predictable. Which is usually a good thing.
Without a partner, you feel lost. Being with someone is very important to you.

Your strength: Your dependability

Your weakness: You hate being alone

Your power color: Midnight blue

Your power symbol: Shell

Your power month: April

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Sorry for the delay in updating. I will soon.

Promise.

Have a great holiday weekend!

-Jos

"When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it had happened or not; but my faculties are decaying now and soon I shall be so I cannot remember any but the things that never happened. It is sad to go to pieces like this but we all have to do it." ~Mark Twain

Windows To The Soul

2007-07-13T08:30:00.000-07:00

You Are Cyclops

Dedicated and responsible, you will always remain loyal to your cause.
You are a commanding leader - after all, you can kill someone just by looking at them.

Power: force beams from your eyes

Which of the X-Men Are You?

"An eye can threaten like a loaded and levelled gun, or it can insult like hissing or kicking; or, in its altered mood, by beams of kindness, it can make the heart dance for joy.... One of the most wonderful things in nature is a glance of the eye; it transcends speech; it is the bodily symbol of identity." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Worth More Dead Than Alive?

2007-07-12T11:39:00.000-07:00

$4440.00

Mingle² - Free Online Dating

"I'd like to live as a poor man with lots of money." ~Pablo Picasso

I wish I had a million dollars... Hot dog!

2007-06-13T11:50:00.000-07:00

Your Score: Jimmy Stewart

You scored 16% Tough, 0% Roguish, 57% Friendly, and 23% Charming!

You are the fun and friendly boy next door, the classic nice guy who still manages to get the girl most of the time. You're every nice girl's dreamboat, open and kind, nutty and charming, even a little mischievous at times, but always a real stand up guy. You're dependable and forthright, and women are drawn to your reliability, even as they're dazzled by your sense of adventure and fun. You try to be tough when you need to be, and will gladly stand up for any damsel in distress, but you'd rather catch a girl with a little bit of flair. Your leading ladies include Jean Arthur and Donna Reed, those sweet girl-next-door types.

Find out what kind of classic dame you'd make by taking the
Classic Dames Test.

Link: The Classic Leading Man Test written by gidgetgoes on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

"It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious." ~Oscar Wilde

Too Good To Pass Up

2007-05-29T15:48:00.000-07:00

Potato Wave

"Music is the literature of the heart; it commences where speech ends." ~Alphonse de Lamartine

30 Years

2007-05-25T08:15:00.000-07:00

Thirty years have passed.

Thirty years, today.

I can’t really express in words how much Star Wars shaped my life. I honestly don’t remember a time without Star Wars. Granted, I was 3 1/2 when it came out. But that’s not the point.

I remember wanting to fly around in the Aluminum, er…sorry, the Millennium Falcon and climb into those cool gun turrets and blast away some Imperial Tie-Fighters.

I remember recreating the trash compactor scene with my buddy Matt Watkins in the muddy ditch in front of his grandmothers house, which I’m sure there may still be a couple of figures buried out there.

Playing with Paul Taylor and John Robert Jameson. Building scores of Tie-Fighters out of paper plates and Styrofoam cups, just to blow them up with firecrackers.

I remember waiting for my Dad to come home and give me a lightsaber. Which, I’m sorry to say, hasn’t happened yet.

Thirty years have passed.

Thirty years since a defiant young princess stood up to an oppressing galactic empire. Since two small, insignificant droids found themselves on a mission that would forever change the lives of all whose path they crossed.

Since a selfish smuggler found his place in the universe. Since a young man took his first step into a larger world.

Thirty years since George Lucas' sprawling space opera first inspired and amazed the world.

Here’s to another 30.

PS: Oh, and the rumor mill at Celebration 4 is that the Flannelled One just may announce this weekend that he wants to make another SW theatrical movie. This one set well before the Prequels. So, we’ll see…….

•••

In other news, well, let’s see. It took a couple of weeks longer than originally planed, but my company finally moved to Richardson. So far the lights still work.

The house is coming together quite nicely. We’ve cooked out on Darcy’s old grill a few times now, and the results have been very pleasing. Pep has taken full reign of the house, so much so that I’m worried about her reaction to her new housemates, when they finally arrive.

And speaking of which, yeah, this is my last week of bachelorhood. So far, I’ve been pretty calm about it. It’s a new chapter of my life, and I can’t wait to see how it reads.

May The Force Be With You!

-Jos

"What we remember from childhood we remember forever - permanent ghosts, stamped, inked, imprinted, eternally seen." ~Cynthia Ozick

We Should Have 3 Day Weekends Every Week

2007-04-09T12:32:00.000-07:00

Hey Kids.

How are you today? Good, I hope.

It is Monday, April the 9th at a little after nine in the morning as I write this, and Jo’T HQ is currently DSL-challenged. (Read that: My boss didn’t pay the phone bill, so our server was terminated on Good Friday. Fitting, no? Only, no resurrection as of yet. Sigh) So, it will be interesting to see exactly when I’ll be able to post this.

Let’s see. What’s been going on?

A couple of weekends ago, Babs and I ventured to Louisiana with her parents to meet my family and have people give us presents. It’s a new concept to me, but one I think I could get used to.

The 2 Households got along quite well; I’m pleased to say. What with all the food and presents and food and the driving and the food.

Last weekend brought the long awaited exodus from the only home that the Pep’s ever known to the adorable little cottage in Plano. Yes, the move went well. It’s amazing how much junk one can accumulate in just one short decade. Er…yeah. My last apartment? I was a resident for 12 years. Twelve. Years.

I’ll pause a moment to let that sink in.

Yeah. I KNOW!

So, now Babs and I have a new abode. Well, technically, I have the new abode. Babs isn’t due in until the wedding. But that’s just a mater of semantics. We spent the last week unpacking and finding new projects to do around the house. Nothing major - We get to install a doorbell tonight. – Just little odds and ends that come with a new home.

We’re also revamping my Bachelor Bookshelves so as to be a mite more presentable to the outside world. And running speaker wire for the surround sound. And trying to track down the box with the other half of the kitchen stuff.

The entertainment center is up and running (Top priority, for those that know me). The DVDs are unpacked and displayed and a couple of props are out, waiting for a shelf.

Pep is adjusting well to her new surroundings. There are many more windows for her to look out of, and a new hardwood floor for her to slide across. So, despite hiding in the closet for most of the day while I’m away, she’s quite content to venturing out in the evenings and exploring her new digs.

Babs and I had our first sit down meal in the new house yesterday. Fitting that it was Easter Dinner. We had baked honey-ham and veggies. And biscuits. Very good!

This is supposedly the last week that my office will be in Addison. Our moving date is scheduled for next Monday. So, we’ll see. I’ll be glad to be working in Richardson now, as the new house is close to 75, and I haven’t exactly been enjoying the new commute that’s twice as long as I’m used to. Oh well. Only one more week. Maybe…..

I guess that’s about it. We’re getting closer to the wedding. The invitations were sent out last week and we’re already getting RSVPs in. So that’s good. The stress is steadily growing, but that’s to be expected.

All in all, life is good at the moment.

Hope you all had a wonderful Easter holiday.

-Jos

Wait...It's MARCH Already?!?

2007-03-02T09:10:00.000-08:00

Hey Kids!

Wow. So much happening these past few days. Where to begin?

Let's see.

First, Jo'T HQ is moving to a Richardson near you. Yep, after 5 1/2 yrs in Addison, (Place Of Employment That Will Not Be Named) is finally moving out of the office it grew out of nearly 3 yrs ago.

Bab's and I found a house! So the Jo'T's are moving as well. More about this to come....

This is the last week of freedom for AQ & Mr. Darcy. After 458,000 years, Wash & Zoe are finally tying the knot! Shiny!

May will mark the 30th anniversary for a certain galaxy far, far away. So, naturally, I'm giddy. Like a little schoolgirl. :)

June 2 is already here......

And finally, July will bring a 2-disk Special Edition of our favorite Browncoat DVD. Here's the word on the extras from The Master, himself:

"Yes, fanlings, there is going to be a 2 disc 'Special Edition' released this summer. You know why? 'Cause the 1 disc 'Normal Edition' has sold so well -- so maybe a little self-back-patting is in order for you guys. Way to keep her in the air.

It's too early to be sure what the Special Edition will contain, but here are some things we're going for:

NEW KEY ART.

Cast commentary -- assuming I can get a decent number of them in one room. They're very busy people, I'm happy to say.

NEW KEY ART.

The region 4 goodies, obviously.

The Tam Sessions.

KEY NEW ART.

New Yub Yub, and Greedo shoots first. So does that kid outside the trading station, the pilot who destroyed Haven, and Kaylee. And Richard Dreyfuss goes INSIDE the mothership.

KEW RAT YEN.

An alternate ending, if you turn it off early.

Proof of the existence of a benevolent higher power -- uh, I mean, new key art.

Mice.

And honestly, what more do you want? Don't answer that, I already know and it's unseemly. But I'm pretty excited here. Back to work, -j.

Take my Yub,
Take Yub Yub,
Yub Yub tak the Yub from Meee...dichlorians...."

Have a great weekend!

Jos

"The Constitution only guarantees the American people the right to pursue happiness. You have to catch it yourself." ~Benjamin Franklin

Because It Bears Repeating...

2007-02-14T10:06:00.000-08:00

RRRRIIINNNGGG

ME: Yeah-lo?

LADY STEPH: Hey!

ME: Oh, hey.

LADY STEPH: So. Where did you and (NAME WITHHELD) go for Valentine's Day?

ME: We, uh, we went to Sue Ellen's.

LADY STEPH: Sue Ellen's? Honey, Sue Ellen's is a lesbian restaurant and bar.

ME: Really? Didn't notice.

LADY STEPH: No need for sarcasm. Just, why would you take her there?

ME: It was her friend, (NAME I CAN'T REMEMBER)'s idea. She just came out last weekend, and didn't want to spend V-Day by herself. (NAME WITHHELD) thought it'd be good for her to be around other people right now.

LADY STEPH: She brought a friend along on a Valentine's Day dinner?

ME: Wasn't my idea.

LADY STEPH: I didn't know (NAME I CAN'T REMEMBER) was gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

ME: Thank you, Seinfeld.

LADY STEPH: Again with the sarcasm. Why...wait. What happened?

ME: ...

LADY STEPH: Talk to me, Choir Boy.

ME: Well...

LADY STEPH: Yeah?

ME: Dinner was ok. The place was packed, people everywhere. Very loud. Not my first choice for a 6 month anniversary date.

LADY STEPH: That's right. I forgot. How did you manage to arrange an anniversary on Valentine's Day?

ME: I wasn't thinking. Anyway, despite the noise, and the crowd, and (NAME I CAN'T REMEMBER), things were going well. Until...

LADY STEPH: Until what?

ME: Until dessert. We had a brownie sundae. Not bad.

LADY STEPH: You're stalling.

ME: Yeah. So after I paid the check, (NAME WITHHELD) said she wanted to tell me something.

LADY STEPH: And?

ME: Yeah. She said that while we'd had some fun...

LADY STEPH: No! She broke up with you?

ME: There's more.

LADY STEPH: What else could there be be?

ME: She said...she informed me that I'd...

LADY STEPH: What? You'd what?

ME: Failed the test.

LADY STEPH: The test? What...Oh. No. She didn't.

ME: Score one for the other team.

LADY STEPH: She came OUT on your 6 month anniversary? On...on Valentine's Day?

ME: Pretty much.

LADY STEPH: Oh, honey. Well, you know, she did have big hands.

ME: Shut up.

LADY STEPH: And she did kick your butt in video games.

ME: Shush.

LADY STEPH: And she did have the biggest adam's apple.

ME: Bite me.

LADY STEPH: Kidding! Just kidding. I'm so sorry.

ME: Yeah. Me to. I still had to drive the happy couple home.

LADY STEPH: Couple? No! Her and (NAME I CAN'T REMEMBER)? No way!

ME: Way.

LADY STEPH: She came out to you, made you pay for dinner, and drive her and her new girlfriend home?

ME: I paid for (NAME I CAN'T REMEMBER) too.

LADY STEPH: You are too nice. Can we, like, nominate you for sainthood or something?

ME: Story of my life.

LADY STEPH: And you're still sober?

ME: I need chocolate.

Hey, Kids. This is your Uncle Jos here. The event mentioned above happened 10 years ago today. It's a tragedy, one that could happen to anyone. Even you. Well, maybe not you, but perhaps to someone you know. But, it doesn't have to.

Romance is supposed to be remembered every day. Not just on the 14th of February.

That's why I'm urging you to boycott this annual "holiday" that exists only to make the candy and the flower and the card and the jewelry people that much more money. Money you worked hard for, I might add.

And you can help. By supporting your fellow single friends. For just a few dollars, the cost of a Shiner and a chocolate chip cookie, you can make a difference in a single person's life.

Go, relationship people (yes, I’m preaching to myself this year), go spend some time with those who have too much of it on their hands. Sit on their couch and watch TV. Order a pizza tonight and use that V-Day card as a placemat. Give those diamond earrings to your mother instead. You owe her that much.

You can spend time with your significant other tomorrow. Let today belong to the few, the sad, the single!

Happy V-Day, People!!!!!

-Jos

"I don't understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine's Day. When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon." ~Author Unknown

The Story

2007-01-15T12:59:00.000-08:00

Ok. Several people have asked for some clarification of the last sentence from the Jan 2nd post. (My many thanks to the well-wishes from several of JoT’s prodigal children, including the Johanni, Mia Culpa, and the ever-wonderful JJ. Thanks, guys! Sorry for not updating more often.)

Here goes.

Babs and I met at a Height’s YP Girls & Guys Mixer on Friday, September 1. (Ok, ok, technically we met a couple of weeks before at a Height’s Women’s Event Seminar – What? I was there running a camera, one of only a handful of people sporting the Y-Chromosome. And, if you can get past the glorified man bashing, you’ve got to admit that the odds were fantastic!)

Anyway, We really didn’t have a chance to really talk until that night at Fox & Hound. Needless to say, we shut the place down, with AQ, Darcy, Lord of War, and the Elfin Princess looking on from the sidelines.

We weren’t able to talk again until that Sunday because I wasn’t suave enough to get the fetching lass’s digits. No worries though, we went out to lunch after church with the gang, and was soon talking as though it had only been 30 minutes apart instead of 30 hours.

This time I was able to get her number and we made plans to get together again real soon. Which turned out to be sooner than I thought. Late that evening, I discovered a missed call from the blue-eyed maiden (my phone had been set to silent that morning during the service and not turned back on). She had called to suggest meeting earlier that afternoon, but it was now after 9pm. Though, as most anyone that knows me is aware of, I do have a tendency to talk.

Forever.

That “quick” call to plan the following day’s activities lasted 4 and a half hours. Uh…yeah.

The next day was Memorial Day, and, quite surprisingly, I was able to get the day off. Texas decided to celebrate that fact by drenching us with scattered thunderstorms. We met for lunch at Rock Fish, and picked up our conversation for the previous evening. Lunch gave way to an impromptu visit to the local antique mall and a short stop at Starbucks, mainly to get in out of the rain.

After getting our caffeine fix, we still hadn’t had enough of each other’s company, so we decided to see if there was anything worth watching at the dollar movies. Turns out that the only movie showing we had any interest in at all was the DiVinci Code. Yeah, I practically had to keep her from rushing the screen with both guns blazing. (The book was better, but only by a little) All in all, that lunch date lasted 9 hours.

The next several weeks were filled with long trips away from each other (she to Phoenix for a week-long conference, me back home to Minden for a wedding shower), extended hospital visits (me again, testing to give my kidney to Nathan), a balloon festival, a power shortage, and building 6 screen-accurate, award winning costumes. All in about 2 months time. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.

November brought my first trip to the Windy City. Babs had family and friends out there, seeing as she’d lived there previously for 12 years. It was fun, and not nearly as rushed as the Louisiana drive-by we made during Christmas.

So that brings us to New Year’s Eve, my B-Day. There was talk of a costume party that evening, but Babs and I just weren’t in the mood to dress up (and look the fool in case no one else did either). We had planned to use one of the restaurant gift cards we collected over the holidays for lunch, so we headed over to Babs’ apartment to retrieve one, and to let her change out of her church clothes.

Before we went back out, I reminded her of a conversation we’d had several weeks before, about we didn’t want to make the usual new year’s resolutions, about how we wanted to live our day-to-day lives as best we could. And I told her that I wanted to be a part of her day-to-day life. And while we had nixed the costumes for that evening, I had a little something that she may want to wear anyway. As I’m saying this, I’m going down on one knee and pulling the box out of my pocket.

She said “yes.”

So, mark your calendars for Saturday, June 2, 2007. 1pm at the Height’s Chapel.

For more info, please look here.

Thanks everyone for your words of encouragement and congratulations. I’m quite happy to begin this new chapter of my life.

Jos-

"True love stories never have endings." ~Richard Bach

Great News!

2007-01-15T07:33:00.000-08:00

If you haven't heard already, Kidney Boy's got some wonderful news!

God Bless-

Jos

Nature does require
Her time of preservation, which perforce
I her frail son amongst my brethren mortal
Must give my attendance to.
~William Shakespeare

30. 3.

2007-01-02T11:04:00.000-08:00

So, it’s 2007.

How did that happen? This past year really flew by. So many things going on. With many entrances, exits, and a fair amount of improvisation whilst on stage, 2006 was a year to remember.

I turned 33 on Sunday. My Jesus Year. I think I still have a lot to accomplish with my life. Thankfully, I have several people to help me with that, most of whom are embarking on new and wonderful lives themselves.

My Christmas was good, if not exactly dry. Babs and I spent most of the holiday driving all over Louisiana, but we had a good time in spite of it, She got to meet Dad & K and Blondie and all of the Jo’T Clan who live among the swamps of the Pelican State.

I usually take off the last week of the year so I can spend time with the fam and get in a little detox from the stresses of the year. However, this year my vacation was not approved, so Babs and I had to cut our time off short. Grrrr.

Still, we made the most of the time we had.

New Years Eve and Day was spent with friends, enjoying each other’s company and relaxing as much as possible. Finally saw Casino Royale, and I can say that it’s the best Bond film I’ve seen. Daniel Craig brought a rugged flawed Bond to the role, and the franchise has never looked better.

I hope you all have a safe and happy holiday and I wish you all the best in this new year.

Oh, and Babs said yes. So I guess I’m engaged……

Jos

"The Old Year has gone. Let the dead past bury its own dead. The New Year has taken possession of the clock of time. All hail the duties and possibilities of the coming twelve months!" ~Edward Payson Powell

1 of 3

2006-12-12T15:49:00.000-08:00

How weird is this?

HowManyOfMe.com

There are:
3
people with my name
in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?

What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
~William Shakespear

No Surprise Here...

2006-12-08T08:04:00.000-08:00

Your results:
You are Malcolm Reynolds (Captain)

Malcolm Reynolds (Captain)		85%
Zoe Washburne (Second-in-command)		75%
Kaylee Frye (Ship Mechanic)		70%
Derrial Book (Shepherd)		70%
Jayne Cobb (Mercenary)		55%
Dr. Simon Tam (Ship Medic)		50%
River (Stowaway)		50%
Wash (Ship Pilot)		50%
Inara Serra (Companion)		45%
Alliance		30%
A Reaver (Cannibal)		15%

Honest and a defender of the innocent.
You sometimes make mistakes in judgment
but you are generally good and
would protect your crew from harm.

Click here to take the "Which Serenity character am I?" quiz...

It's Friday, Ya'll! Everyone doing ok today? Got your Christmas shopping done yet?

Yeah, me neither...See you at the mall...

-Jos

"Once again we find ourselves enmeshed in the Holiday Season, that very special time of year when we join with our loved ones in sharing centuries-old traditions such as trying to find a parking space at the mall. We traditionally do this in my family by driving around the parking lot until we see a shopper emerge from the mall, then we follow her, in very much the same spirit as the Three Wise Men, who 2,000 years ago followed a star, week after week, until it led them to a parking space." ~Dave Barry

Giving Thanks

2006-11-27T14:52:00.000-08:00

Wow. So another month has come and gone. My apologies. It was never my intention to neglect this site for so long.

Well, a lot has happened. And, on the other hand, not much has changed.

It all depends on your point of view.

Fall has arrived, though not that you'd notice. A few leaves have dropped to the ground. I've seen a couple of jackets brought out of a few closets, but the weather here in Texas has maintained a steady course the past few months.

I just got back from a trip to the Windy City, and let me tell ya, it's nothing like Big D. I couldn't get over how close the homes were built to each other. There is maybe a foot of side yard between each one. Made this Dallas Boy more than a little claustrophobic. :)

Thursday morning started far too early, as we had a 7:15 flight. Thanks to an elevated Terror Alert, my alarm was set for 4am. As you can imagine, Pep was NOT happy. Nor was I, for that matter. :)

The ride to the Park 'n Fly was uneventful, and we made it into DFW with plenty of time to kill. It was a full flight and there were at least five wee ones boarding the plane with us. But all was well. Not a peep from the little tikes.

Arriving at Chicago O'Hare Airport was not without it's drama. Of the two bags checked, only one made it from DFW. And, of course, that bag wasn't mine. Grr.

All in all, the rest of the day was very good. Babs and I were taken in by her brother and sister-in-law. Got to spend the holiday being manhandled by her niece (age 11) and her 2 nephews (9 and 6). Three of her brother's students joined us for Thanksgiving dinner as well. Two from Africa, and one from New York. It was quite the smelting pot there. Dinner was fantastic and many stories were told (and retold, as in the case of how Babs and I met).

The evening was spent talking to Bab's parents via Internet phone (they’re in Afghanistan) and playing a family favorite card name by the name of Quiddler.

Oh, and my wayward bag finally made to to the house around 10:30 that night.

Friday was spent at the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry. A very cool NASA exhibit and a real U-Boat from WW2 were the highlights.

Saturday started with a trip to a local park where much swinging and horseplay was had. The weather was cool and brisk. And the elevated train running overhead was cool to see. It was my first El, so my fascination with it was pretty much lost on everyone else.

That evening, Babs and I struck out on the town. I finally got to see her in her own element. It was beautiful to see. We started at the school both she and her brother and sister-in-law went to (he works there as a teacher) and made our way downtown. The lights and sounds of the city at night were breathtaking. It was a long walk, but it was worth it. I even got to ride the El. And for dinner, we ate at Ed's. Too cool for words.

Babs showed me all the places she lived and worked at in the ten years she called Chicago home. Apparently she's worked in every building and lived in every house. :)

On Sunday, I was treated to a service at Harvest Bible Chapel. It was a good message and I got to meet a couple of Babs' good friends.

Our trip ended far too early and we soon found ourselves back at Chicago O'Hare. Our flight was delayed, but only about a half an hour, so we were back home a little after 10. Both households were greeted with bemused and hungry cats, but welcomed nonetheless.

It was a fun trip, but I'm beat. I need a vacation from my vacation. :)

Hope your turkey day was good!

See you next time-
Jos

"Our most basic instinct is not for survival but for family. Most of us would give our own life for the survival of a family member, yet we lead our daily life too often as if we take our family for granted." ~Paul Pearshall

You Can't Take The Sky From Us!

2006-10-31T14:05:00.000-08:00

Hey, Kids.

So, October has come and gone. Sorry for the lack in posting, but we've had somewhat of an overhaul here at Jo'T HQ. Almost a 3rd of our employees went off to greener pastures, which left the rest of us scrambling to keep the sky from falling on top of us. Which is kind of hard with only 5 people. Sigh.

Also? This....

Yeah, my annual Halloween Costume Extravaganza included all of the Browncoats this year.

I've spent the better part of the past 8 months putting these together. And Boy, was it worth it! We had a blast!

We topped it all off with a win at this years Dallas Comic Con Costume Contest and a special charity screening of Serenity at the Plano Movie Grill, benefiting Joss' fav charity, Equality Now.

Clearly, a great time was had by all. Click here for more pics.

Happy Halloween, Everybody!

See you in November...

Jos

'Tis now the very witching time of night,
When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to this world.
~William Shakespeare

Fall Has Arrived

2006-09-25T09:18:00.000-07:00

Hey, Kids-

So, Saturday marked the first day of Autumn. And, just to make things interesting, Texas decided to crank up the dial to 100 degrees on Friday to send Summer out with style. And it wouldn't have been too bad as long as you had air conditioning. Right? Right.

So, of course, we didn't.

Around 8:30 Thursday morning, the city of Addison shut off the power here at Jo'THQ. Seems my boss didn't want to pay the bill, and TCU took offense to that. And rightly so. After getting the run-around for several hours from my boss and the power company, it ended up with a choice: Pay the balance of the existing bill, around $180, or work in the dark with no computers or phones. Oh, and did I mention that since this wasn't the first time we haven't made a payment, we were also encouraged to pay an additional "goodwill charge" of $2,700?

Yeah. So we didn't have power on Friday either. I mentioned the 100 degree day, right? Did I also tell you that we still had to go in? That we had to run extension cords from next door just to get the computers up? That we only had temp power to the phones? That my boss didn't want anyone to leave "in case a client decided to drop in?" Can I tell you how much fun Friday was. And how wonderful we smelled after 6 hours of roasting in our little steam cooker. Ah, good times.

But, as bad as the work week ended, the weekend was fantastic!

This weekend was the Plano Balloon Festival, and B and I got up early to watch the first launch. Around 7am. It was still muggy and hot from the day before, and a thunderstorm was looming on the horizon. But it was the wind that kept everything grounded. In fact, the wind and the approaching storm canceled the entire event around 8:45. But B and I had a wonderful breakfast fresh muffins and red grapes. We had a fun time talking and people watching up until the security people asked us to pack up and get out of the storm. We finished out the morning at Borders, talking and watching the rain.

Around 1, we headed over to HPPC, the church she works at, to help her change out some floor banners for their service project this past Sunday. The banners were B's design, and they looked great.

About that time, my sinuses started kicking in, so I crashed out on the couch for a couple of hours. After a late lunch, leftover rosemary chicken from Friday night, we spent the evening watching DVDs and relaxing.

Sunday was to be my week off from the cameras, but, alas, it was not meant to be. Ran the main camera for the first service, but was able to sit with B and the gang during the 10:50. We had lunch at Macaroni Grill, where Randy and I got caught up and I got to know B's friends, A and J better.

After going home to change, put on a load of laundry, and relax a little with the new Aaron Sorkin project, Studio 60 (VERY good, by the way), I headed back over to B's for our Sunday Bible Study, The 5 Love Languages. She was making oatmeal cookies (my favorite!). I just may have to keep this one. :) We ended the evening with a little Mystery and another great talk. Things are going really well.

Now, I'm back at the office. Well, at least the power's back on. For now, anyway......

Hope your weekend was fun. Thanks for stopping by.

-Jos

"Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all." ~Stanley Horowitz

One Week's Time

2006-09-11T09:15:00.000-07:00

Hey, Kids.

Sorry for the lull in communication as of late, but there are only so many hours in the day.

So, where to begin? So much has happened over the last few weeks - this past week, especially.

Let's see:

1) Kidney Boy - Last Wednesday and Thursday, I underwent a complete barrage of tests to see if I'm compatible to give Nathan my "extra" kidney. The tests were extensive and very tiring. And taking the time off has caused a strain on an already fragile working environment. I still have a couple of doctor/surgeon consults and need to mail in a couple more samples, but I should be done by next week. Then it's a waiting game to see what's next. If all goes well, I should know something by mid October.

2) Work - As always, eyes and ears are open to any and all possibilities. May possibly have something to report soon.

3) MZ-12 - Well, the AQ and I have decided to start our own writing and production company. Our first foray into the void is a massive collaborative graphic novel that spans some 100+ years. We're calling it "Centennial" for now. It combines several story ideas that I've had for may years now, a lot from my Hot Fish days, and a merging of ideas and characters from AQ and myself. We're breaking the outline now, and it's taking some time. It's going to be a LOT of work, but we feel that the outcome will be well worth it.

4) Pamie - Just finished reading Pamie's sophomore effort, Why Mothers Are Weird. Very funny and heartwarming. I've been a fan of hers for years, and she just keeps getting better. Go out and pick it up, you'll be presently surprised. And, if you haven't already, pick up her first novel, Why Girls Are Weird, while you're at it.

5) Jo'T's Browncoats - The costumes are almost completed for this year's Halloween competition. Several of the props are completed, or close to being done. Really, only one large prop is still in the works, Vera. Yeah, she's just a monster, and it's been a challenge trying to make it work. But, we're almost done. Once everything is completed, the finished outcome should be most impressive.

6) Granddaddy - Made the trip to Louisiana this weekend to see an old family friend who's getting married. Also got to spend some time with the fam. Got to meet GD's new wife and see their new place. Miss Frankie is nice and the townhouse is quaint, but it just didn't feel the same this time around. I'm sure it will just take time. Got to see Blondie for a little while, which is always good. She wasn't able to make it out to Big D this summer, so it was good to see her. We drove around Minden and marveled at all the changes that have occurred since last we were both in town (some 12 years or more). And the more things change, yadda yadda yadda. A lot of home is still just the way I left it. It's citizens may get older, it's businesses grow and expand or even close, but it's spirit is still the same. It will always be home to some degree, but the more time I spend and invest out here, the more I feel that Dallas is where I need to be.

That's a brief overview of the past several weeks. There is one more change. And it's a major one, but it's not one I'm going to discuss much here. There are some areas of my life that will not be talked about on this blog. Let's just say that God answers prayer, and leave it at that.

I hope all is well with you, my friends.

-Jos

"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens." ~J.R.R. Tolkien

Back! ...For Now, Anyway...

2006-08-04T09:25:00.000-07:00

Hola, mi amegos!

Wow. So, uh, yeah. Long time, no write. Sorry about that.

My beloved G-5 Mac (on which I'm connected to the magical Internet) has had a sick hard drive for about a month now. Sick to the point that it would only stay connected to the aforementioned Internet for a hand full of moments before promptly locking up and asking to be re-started.

So, after exhausting my long checklist of trouble-shooting mad skilz, I broke down and re-installed the hard drive.

Yeah, 3 hours of backing up files and re-saving my favorite web addresses. Sigh. Should have done this a month ago.

Oh, well.

Anyway, there be news to tell of the past several weeks:

1) Kidney-Boy - Nathan's Dad was deemed unworthy by the powers that be to donate a kidney to keep his boy alive. So, your's truly is back on the list. I should get my testing packet in the mail in a couple of days to see what's next for me and my (relatively) healthy kidney. Does it WANT to go live in Nathan? Will it miss it's twin, whom it's lived next to in dark, warm comfort lo these past 30 some odd years? Will Jenny be considered an adulterer if part of me resides in her husband? The answers to these questions and more (or, maybe just more questions) to come.

2) The Job - Well, there's not much to report on this front. I'm still where you left me. Still on my feet, bobbing and weaving. Holding my head above water. For now, anyway. But, if any of you - my wonderful, adoring, beautiful groupies - have need of a smart, talented, handsome art director with over 12 years in the trade show industry, well, by all means, give him a job. But, if you have a job for me, well, I probably wouldn't say no...

3) Birthdays - The Elfin Princess celebrated her 26th year with a mission trip to England. Rumor has it that she had fun. I wouldn't know, the little minx hasn't talked to me since she got back. The Whimsy rung in her new year with the gift of a new digital camera. Congrats, Whims, now go take some cool pictures. Also, Evangelical Todd had a birthday as well. Yesterday. A small army invaded the Varnell household last night. Lord of War and myself played with fire (literally) as we cooked burgers, dogs and broutworst. Friends Scene It? and Trivial Pursuit: the 90's held our attention until the wee hours of the morning, and I'm still feeling the affects of it.

4) Hugo - Speaking of the LoW, seems that the man I call Jayne is heading back to school. For some unknown reason, Chriswell College has accepted him into their fold. They really should know better. No, really. I sent them a letter and video evidence, but I guess they didn't heed my concerns. At least Kaylee will be there to keep him out of trouble. Wait a minute...

5) Joey K - Well, Joey and Jenna made it to the Left Coast in one piece. He's still trying to find a job out there, so if you could send some good thoughts his way, I'm sure he's appreciate it. It would probably help for him to be employed before the wedding early next year.

6) And speaking of weddings - Oh, my stars and garters. My beloved Apocalypse Queen has accepted the proposal from one Mr. Darcy. It was only a matter of time before it happened, but the majority of us were expecting it to occur later in the year. Still, it couldn't have happened to a better couple. Well, there may actually be a better couple, but Zoe will pistol-whip me with her shotgun if I mention it, so yeah. Mazel Tov!

(Oh, there may be some news to report on a joint AQ-Jo'T venture in the near future. You'll know more when I do.)

Anyway, that about brings everyone up to speed in the life of Jo'T. Hope you all are doing well. Have a great weekend, and I'll see you on the flip side.

-Jos

"I always pass on good advice. It's the only thing to do with it. It is never any use to oneself." ~Oscar Wilde

Happy Birthday, Indiana Solo!

2006-07-13T08:26:00.000-07:00

Hey, Kids.

No, Not dead. Just things are very busy at Jo'T HQ at the moment.

And, Happy B-Day to Harrison Ford, who celebrates his 64th today.

-Jos

"We advance in years somewhat in the manner of an invading army in a barren land; the age that we have reached, as the saying goes, we but hold with an outpost, and still keep open communications with the extreme rear and first beginnings of the march." ~Robert Louis Stevenson

Oh, and TEP had a B-Day as well on 7-11. May this year be your best, Windchime!

You Will Believe...Again

2006-06-27T12:48:00.000-07:00

"The first movie I remember watching all the way through was Superman. I recall standing up in my chair, completely in awe of what I was witnessing. My first glimpse of a hero without even knowing what that word was. My parents (and old photos) tell of years of running around the house with a red beach towel safety-pinned around my neck. Of jumping out of trees and off of roofs just knowing that this time, gravity would bend to my will.

As the years went by, the ideology and symbolism of the last son of Krypton began to shape me into the man I am today. The morals of life, liberty, and the American way were the values I most wanted to uphold. It wasn't the powers or the strength or even the flying, it was the idea that regardless of what we can do, what was important was the compassion for our fellow man. That we should do everything within our power – whatever power that may be – to help those unable to help themselves.

The mythos of Superman began back in the 1930’s, and several versions of the Big Blue Boy Scout have come and gone, but for me, there will only be one Superman. The man I was first introduced to back in a little theater in a little town in 1978. The tagline of the move was simple. 'You will believe a man can fly.' And we did. And we do."

I wrote those words on October 11, 2004, the day I heard that Chris Reeve had passed away. At the time, I remember thinking that no one could take his place. That Richard Donner's 1978 release of Superman could never be topped.

I was wrong.

Last night I was able to become a 5 year old again. To witness magic once again on the silver screen, something I haven't seen in a long time. Last night I saw what I'm going to call THE definitive Superman film. The film that will inspire a whole new generation of children to believe in heroes again.

Last night I saw Brian Singer's love letter to Donner and Chris and Dana. Last night, I saw SUPERMAN.

There's so much more I want to say, but I don't want to give anything away. I'll probably post a real review after the weekend, once I've seen it again, and can talk more freely about it.

But, for now, go out and buy a ticket. Buy 20. Take everyone you know to this movie. And, when it's over, get back in line and see it again.

This is the one we've been waiting for. I can't express how much I enjoyed this film, and how much it has restored my faith in the magic of the movies. I can't wait to hear your views on it.

-Jos

"He who has faith has... an inward reservoir of courage, hope, confidence, calmness, and assuring trust that all will come out well - even though to the world it may appear to come out most badly." ~B.C. Forbes

Feature Friday: Serenity

2006-06-23T09:39:00.000-07:00

It all started almost 9 years ago.

I had just recently met the Elfin Princess, and she got me hooked on a little known TV show on the then-struggling WB Network, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It wasn't long before Buffy took the world by storm, quickly becoming a world-wide phenomenon, due largely to the style and vision of one man, Joss Whedon.

Buffy ran for 7 years and launched a successful spin-off, Angel, which itself ran for 5 years.

Then, in the fall of 2002, Joss and his crack team of writers, including the lovely Jane, set to redefining the realm of science fiction. During his 2 week hiatus from Buffy & Angel, Whedon read The Killer Angels, by Michael Shaara, a great book about the Battle of Gettysburg. It got Joss to thinking about the Civil War, and how we, several generations apart, view it today. He wanted to do a show about the underdogs, the losers of a devastating war, and how they made their peace with it.

From that was born Firefly, a show that incorporated every genre, from comedy and drama to action and horror. Firefly had it all. It followed the crew of the cargo ship, Firefly-class 'Serenity,' as they make their way "just a little farther from the hand of the Alliance."

Serenity's captain, Malcolm 'Mal' Reynolds, is a veteran of the losing side of a great civil war for independence. The winners, the Corporate Alliance, a conglomerate of what remains of the future United States and China, have very little regard for the opposing side, the 'Independents.' Or, as they are more commonly known, the Browncoats.

Unfortunately, the 'verse at large was not ready for a show that couldn't be pinned down into one particular marketing area. That, coupled with a Friday night timeslot, help bring about it's untimely demise. Only 14 episodes were ever made.

Now, the story should end here. TV show has a shot, viewing numbers are embarrassingly low, network decides to pull the plug. It's over. Move along.

Not so fast.

You'd be forgetting about the real world Browncoats. The rabid fanbase that just would not let the show die. The people who did all that they could to keep the show on the air. Who built numerous websites and wrote hundreds of thousands of letters and petitions. Who ran various vender tables in countless conventions to show the world their love of a virtually unknown television show.

And you'd be forgetting about the man Whedon himself. Whose passion and drive reached almost mythological proportions. A man who called in every favor owed him. Who was just as in love with the show as the actors and the fans combined.

And then, the impossible happened. 2005 saw the release of the motion picture, Serenity. The entire cast returned. Almost the entire crew. All working for nothing, just so this movie could be made.

And what a movie it was.

Title: Serenity
Year: 2005
Director: Joss Whedon
Staring: Nathan Fillion, Gina Torres, Alan Tudyk, Morena Baccarin, Adam Baldwin, Jewel Staite, Sean Maher, Summer Glau, Ron Glass, Chiwetel Ejiofor, David Krumholtz, Sarah Paulson

"The crew of Serenity will take any job, even if that job isn't exactly legal. Captain Malcolm Reynolds (Fillion) and his crew take small smuggling and robbery jobs to keep their ship afloat, and to stay under the radar of The Alliance. But when a doctor, Simon Tam (Maher) and his unstable, telepathic sister, River (Glau) join the crew, they get in much more trouble than they bargained for. A mysterious Alliance agent, known only as the Operative (Ejiofor), is after River, because she stumbled onto a secret no one was supposed to know... and The Alliance will do anything to get her back."

I've often called Serenity the "series finale that Firefly never got." It ties up several of the threads that the series never got to resolve. And we get to see our favorite characters go out with a flourish and take a bow.

You don't need to have seen the series to understand the movie, most of what you need to know is explained. But if you're a fan of the show, the movie is filled with subtle hints and gags that make the film that much more enjoyable.

I've had the pleasure of converting quite a few of my peeps over to the Browncoats. And while I don't think I'm as obnoxious and brow-beating as some of the more vocal fans, I do hope that more people will come to see and enjoy the movie as much as I have.

I would suggest that you do watch the series first, if only to heighten your overall enjoyment. Have a great weekend.

And the impossible just keeps coming. Tonight, June 23rd, the Studio Movie Grill in Addison is hosting a midnight screening of Serenity for Joss' favorite charity, Equality Now. (I have a couple of tickets available, if anyone's interested.)

Oh, and Happy Birthday, Mr. Whedon.

-Jos

"The unthankful heart... discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!" ~Henry Ward Beecher

Feature Friday: The Terror of Tiny Town

2006-06-16T14:33:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, I had a hard time falling asleep. (Having a hard time STAYING asleep came along later, and breaking my back in Jr. High didn't help.) One of my favorite things to combat this pseudo-insomnia was to stay up late with Dad and watch the Late Late Show and split a carton of Pralines n' Cream ice cream.

I can't tell you how many horrible black and white films we watched at 1am under the tutelage of Commander USA, and his Groovie Movies. From the little known King Kong sequel, Son of Kong ("He's a swell little scraper.""Tough break.") to the just plain bad, Missile To The Moon ("Stay out of the sun! It'll fry you alive!").

But the best (or worst, depending how you look at it) had to be The Terror of Tiny Town. I don't know if it was the obvious studio back-lot western setting, the lack of plot whatsoever, or the non-existent acting that made it so hard to watch.

I think, maybe, it was the midgets...

Title: The Terror of Tiny Town
Year: 1938
Director: Sam Newfield
Staring: Billy Curtis, Yvonne Moray, 'Little Billy' Rhodes, Billy Platt, John T. Bambury, Joseph Herbst, Charles Becker, Nita Krebs, George Ministeri, Karl 'Karchy' Kosiczky, Fern Formica

"An evil gunslinging midget comes to terrorize the good little people of Tiny Town. The townspeople organize to defeat him, and zany antics ensue."

You know? I really don't even need to write anything else. That one sentence sums it up quite well.

But then, you wouldn't hear about the actors having to reach up to swing the bat wing doors of the saloon. You's miss out on the daring cowboy stunts with a team of wild stallions - er, Shetlen ponies (I kid you not). Nor would you bear witness to singing talent that would have Simon Cowel put a gun to his forehead. And the acting, dear God, the acting. Well, let's just say that Steven Seagal will win a Oscar before any of this cast will...

From our hero Buck (Curtis), his girl Nancy (Moray), and her Uncle Jim (Moray), to the Big Bad, Bat Haines (Rhodes), and who could forget the German vampire, Nita (Krebs), ((I can't make this stuff up, People)), plus the fact that it was supposed to be SERIOUS, it really may be one of the worse films I've ever seen. And, I've seen a lot, let me tell ya. (Don't forget, these are the same actors who filled out the cast of the Muchkins in the merry ole land of Oz. They WERE the Lollypop Guild!))

Still, I laugh until I cry every time I see it. (I own a worn VHS copy of it taped back during those days of innocence, and just ordered the DVD copy I found while writing this article, just to give my future kids more reasons to hate me.)

This one's for you, Dad. Break out your copy and enjoy it this Father's Day weekend. The rest of you, should you ever come across it, RUN!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Jos

"Things ain't what they used to be and probably never was." ~Will Rogers

Galveston Highlights - Part 1

2006-06-12T13:42:00.000-07:00

So the Browncoats returned safely from our travels to the south end of the 'verse. It was the first time off I'd had this year, and it was well deserved.

Here are a few of the high points:

Wednesday:

- Playing The Game while quoting The Princess Bride, which was playing in the other room.

- Watching Darcy cringe while the rest of us were singing along at the top of our lungs to Once More With Feeling at 1 in the morning (his poor neighbors).

- TEP's self-satisfaction upon fitting 5 days worth of clothes and "girlie necessities" into one small duffel bag and backpack. Quite impressive, that.

AQ's monster suitcase. "It's bigger than the van. We'll have to rent a U-Haul just for that thing." "Shut up!"

- Staying up with LoW until 3am trying to find a way to fall asleep.

- Finding Darcy's practice Katana (and keeping LoW from using it on the rest of us).

Thursday:

- The early morning Wal-Mart run with LoW for road snacks and ice (and 2 unused beach towels).

- "What's that flashing light mean?"

- "Are we there yet?" "We're still in Plano..."

- "This will be the trip of 'No Functioning ATMs'. Mark my words."

- "What's wrong with the 'Open Door Alarm'?" "(Low) broke it." "Did not!"

- "Why won't my i-Pod work with the van's radio?"

- "Quick, take a picture of that." "Uh, we're STILL in Plano!"

- "What did that road sign say?" "Buffalo." "We're in Buffalo!? How long was I asleep?" "An hour."

- "Hum. Er." (Chorus from back of the van) "Hummmmer!" "That's a Momma Hummer." "Um, Momma Hummer?" "H2. Not too big. Not too small. Momma Hummer." "Got it. Go back to sleep."

- "Who sings this?" "Seven Spanish Angles, by Ray Charles. Willie is about to join in." "My dad hated Willie." Mine too."

- "My Momma always said, 'Never pass up a bathroom break'." "Very wise."

- "So. Which side of 45 in NASA on?" "(Everyone in the van) The other side!" "But we were just THERE!"

- "That doesn't look like NASA." "Uh, that's because it's a McDonalds." "No. THAT." "That's a car wash." "Bite me."

- "Uh, there's a guy painting graffiti on that overpass pillar." "Don't worry. It's only 10 feet from our motel. We'll get to see it (and him) everyday." "Great."

- "Man! What is that smell?" "Sanitation." "So that's what it smells like."

- "We only have 2 towels." "So?" "Well, there's 3 of us in the room." "We only have 4 towels in our room." "There are only 2 of you in THIS room." "So? We're girls." "Really can't argue that point, (Darcy). There's evidence to back up that claim." "True enough."

More to follow......

-Jos

"Thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel across the country from coast to coast without seeing anything." ~Charles Kuralt

Horseshoe Highlights

2006-05-25T09:01:00.000-07:00

The McCants kids showing up their old man by yelling out his lines before he could.

AQ's reaction to additional verses of the Ode to Miss Polly - "There's something wrong with you."

Rebecca's "BRING IT!" to the crowd after one of her songs.

"You're depriving some village of their idiot."

Ashley's "Oh, look. It's raining popcorn again" as she helps Pappy on stage.

Ma's more "liberal" performance after 2 margaritas between shows. - "You Moron!"

The high 5's and "Good Show"'s throughout the performances.

"Oh, and Mrs. Chowder? Happy Mother's Day." - In pure EVIL as only Andrew can pull off.

Kissing the flats during the chase scene.

The tandem massages in the girls dressing room between shows.

Doing the white boy dance with AQ, Ashley, and Kala behind the flats waiting for our cue.

The perfect typecast of Stacie as the big nerd not everyone knew she was.

Darla going thru 4 accents during the same monologue.

AQ running full speed into David and nearly breaking her ankle.

Rachel Varnell's (age 9) absolute adoration of Blackjack.

Amber's heartfelt toast during our last dinner together.

The cast prayer before each performance.

Hanging out with the girls before the show.

"Hanging around" with the boys during the show.

LoW pouring his entire bag of popcorn over my head.

Watching Pam forget she was stage manager for a moment and enjoy a good ad lib before catching herself.

Mr. Larry's twitchy finger that killed the lights a little too soon. - Yea, Tech Rehearsal!

and...

Ross completely forgetting that he has the last line to end scene 2 during the last performance, which led to the fastest costume change in the history of the theater. Also, some of the best ad libing and scene stretching from the rest of the cast stuck on stage waiting for him.

It was a great show. Can't wait for the next one...

-Jos

"Humor is the great thing, the saving thing. The minute it crops up, all our irritation and resentments slip away, and a sunny spirit takes their place." ~Mark Twain

Only Mostly Dead...

2006-05-24T21:45:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the lag in posting. My beautiful, wonderful, exceptional, better-then-I-deserve Mac G-5 has been sick. And, as it is the exact-same machine from which I bring my messages to you, faithful reader, my sojourns into cyberspace have been rather limited.

Please know that I have thought of nothing but you, gentle reader, during this minor crisis. You, and the last few performances of Horseshoe, but mainly you. And work (seeing as how more than a few large jobs were on the hard drive of the sick computer in question), but you as well.

I hope you've been well in my absence. Hope that you've succeeded in your ventures to make the world a better place to live. That your dreams have been chased, or at least remembered. That you have strived to put right what once went wrong. Hoping that the next leap will be the leap home.

Take care, little ones, as Uncle Jos has many stories from his travels out in the black to share.

Until next time...

-Jos

"A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving." ~Lao Tzu

Half Way There...

2006-05-15T10:19:00.000-07:00

So, due to an unexpected delay in my travel plans, I was able to join my beloved Apocalypse Queen on stage with the rest of those bloody thespians of WOMP for their performance of The Saga of the Golden Horseshoe. The thing is, while the rest of the (very talented) cast had over 5 weeks of rehearsals and bonding, I got all of 5 days. Good thing I only have a handful of lines and simple set blocking.

We've already run 4 of the 8 performances, and they've been wonderful! We've been blessed with great crowds for each show, and the cast is jelling quite well. I'm particularly fond of the work by Ross (the Sheriff), Rebecca (the Singer), and Ashleigh (the Reporter). And of course, my AQ (the Boss lady).

All in all, it's a fun melodrama with a great cast. It'll be nice to have a break this week (didn't get home until after midnight any night last week, it being production week and all), but I will miss the camaraderie we've shared the past few days.

If you can make it, we have 4 more shows this weekend: Friday, the 19th, at 8pm, Saturday, the 20th, at 2:30pm and 8pm (please come to this one, as we haven't sold many seats) and Sunday, the 21st, at 2:30pm.

Hope to see you there!

-Jos

"Acting: An art which consists of keeping the audience from coughing." ~Ralph Richardson

"And Special Thanks To The Dallas Police Department..."

2006-05-08T09:35:00.000-07:00

We celebrated Sparky's birthday last night, and it got me to remembering...

It was a hot and balmy August night in Big D. It was finals week at AID, and the Scosa's needed a passing grade in our favorite class, Intro Humanities, taught by the great and mighty, tree-hugging, hippie-turned-educator, the one and only George DeLuca. Our assignment was simple, create a work of "art." It could be anything. A poster. A painting. A scarf. A poem. A movie...

You see where this is heading, don't you?

Well, Sparky was (and still is) an aspiring young filmmaker, and he had a "brilliant" idea for a short film. As this was 1992, and a certain "dark knight" had just "returned" to the silver screen, and...God, it hurts to even write this...and, well, he did have the big rubber bat-suit hanging in his closet. Don't ask. It's better you don't know why.

Anyway, Sparks had access to...well, to the roof of the Tom Thumb that he worked at. To make a long story only slightly shorter, Sti-Fu and I found ourselves dressed out in black with leather jackets and prop machine guns.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Jos, why on earth would you and Sti-Fu, seemingly intelligent and responsible adults, go out of your way to involve yourselves in such a ridiculous endeavor? Weren't warning signs flashing in your heads?"

Well...I...yeah. I got nothing. Just stupid, I guess. Happens to the best of us.

So, it's around 10:15 PM on a Tuesday night, and our little band of gorilla filmmakers are on the roof setting up a shot. My character, Spike, was positioned on the opposite end of the scene, so I have a better view of the parking lot below us. As I'm waiting for my close-up, I notice what I first take to be a red strobe light out of the corner of my eye. My curiosity stroked, I glance down to street level and feel my blood turn to ice water. There's a cop car with it's flashers on.

I'm just about to say something when a large spotlight turns on behind me and I hear a rather loud voice behind me shout: "You! In the leather jacket! Drop your weapon and lie down on your stomach with your arms above your head!"

The voice didn't sound like Sparky's.

Some 10 minutes later, we're down in the parking lot with some 15 cop cars and more police officers I've ever seen in my life. Turn's out that while Sparky did work at Tom Thumb, he didn't work at the one we were currently jumping around the roof of with very realistic looking guns. Now, he and the owner had made an arrangement at some point in the past, but nothing was ever confirmed. At least not for that night.

Now, as bad as it was for Sti and myself, hot Texas night wearing leather and all black, I somehow think Sparky had it worse. You see, he was still in the bat-suit.

I'll give you a moment to let that mental image set in.

Yeah, for the next 3 hours everyone had pictures taken and "Hey, boys, we just captured the Batman," became a mantra we couldn't escape.

While we didn't go to jail that night (I can only imagine what would have become of Sparky in holding) it did make for a long drive home.

We did finish the film, and Sparks made an "A" I believe. (Sti-Fu and I had to make our own projects as the movie only counted for Sparky) And we made sure to add a special "thank you" to the credits...

Happy B-Day, Sparky!

-Jos

"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former." ~Albert Einstein

May The 4th Be With You!

2006-05-04T08:09:00.000-07:00

Happy Star Wars Day, everybody.

And, a gift from George!

It's been a long time coming, but it looks like we'll finally get the original, non-special edition Episodes on DVD in September!

Oh, happy day...

-Jos

"What we remember from childhood we remember forever - permanent ghosts, stamped, inked, imprinted, eternally seen." ~Cynthia Ozick

Jo'T Birthdays Of The Week

2006-05-01T07:30:00.000-07:00

30th April - JJ

1st May - Sparky

3rd May - Blondie

"The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age." ~Lucille Ball

Feature Friday: Peter's Friends

2006-04-21T09:44:00.000-07:00

Sometimes there's just something magical about the people you meet in college. It doesn't happen every time, or to everybody. Sometimes you're just lucky. I know I was.

From the first day, I knew that I was where I was supposed to be. The people I met that day are still active part of my life. Without Sparky, or Sti-Fu, or Lady Steph, or E-Rock, or Painview, or Scosa...I don't know. But I DO know that I wouldn't be where I am today without them.

The same can be said of the group of friends I made about 6 years ago, the WOMP group. That traveling band of thespians, bent on family-friendly entertainment. Under the watchful eye of Becky and Carrie and Melinda, they have grown to be a major player in the theater world. Or Frisco, anyway. Being on stage with the Elfin Princess and my Apocalypse Queen as well as the Goodman/Goodwin's, Jimmy Vines, mea Culpa, Dan-O, Brownie, The Voice, Red, Burst Forth, the Midgets in Bloom, the singing Ellis', the Jinx's, and too many more to name, has been a blessing. I can't wait for another opportunity to work with them all again.

This is also true of my latest crew of Browncoats, doing all they can to keep us in the air.

I guess what I'm saying is that friendship, that unbreakable, indescribable bond, is the rarest of possessions. That, once obtained, is next to impossible to give up.

As well it should be...

Title: Peter's Friends
Year: 1992
Director: Kenneth Branagh
Staring: Stephen Fry, Kenneth Branagh, Hugh Laurie, Alphonsia Emmanuel, Emma Thompson, Imelda Staunton, Phyllida Law, Rita Rudner

It's New Years Eve in a quiet little English village, and Peter (Fry) has arranged a reunion of his college mates, most of whom haven't seen each other in several years. Peter's father has recently passed away, and left the family mansion to his only son. Also, Peter has some rather important news that he needs to share with his friends. But he is quite unprepared to see just how much they have changed since their carefree college and acting troupe days.

Andrew (Branagh) is a successful screenwriter living in America, writing for his wife, Carol (Rudner)'s TV sit-com. But not all is well in Hollywood. Carol is obsessed with her career, to the extent of placing her work before her marriage. And Andrew, feeling less the man he was when he was writing plays in his youth, has turned to alcohol for solace.

Roger (Laurie) and Mary (Staunton), prosperous jingle-writers, have just lost a child, one of a set of twins. Mary is having a very hard time leaving the surviving child alone, and Roger is hurting over his ability to move on, while his wife can't.

Lovelorn Maggie (Thompson), the writing agent, is looking for a husband to start a family. But she's lacking in self-confidence, and has a low opinion of herself. She feels that this reunion will allow her to build up the courage to approach a relationship with Peter.

Winding out the group is free-spirit Sarah (Emmanuel), who brings along her newest boyfriend, who just happens to be married.

'Peter's Friends' is both heartfelt and enduring. Rudner and her husband/writing partner, Martin Bergmann, have penned a great screenplay that accurately captures the bonds of long-term friendship and the trials that come with adulthood.

Kenneth "The Best Shakespearian Actor Of His Era, Or Any Other" Branagh pulls double duty, on both sides of the camera, and makes it look easy. While his portrayal of Andrew is reserved, almost subtle, it's his work as director that shines in this film.

And then-wife Emma Thompson is wonderful as Maggie. Her craft over the years has grown so much, and her roles as both actress and producer have helped raise the bar in Hollywood. She is a marvel to behold, and carries the best performance of the movie.

Best known to American audiences as Fox's Dr. House, Hugh Laurie has had quite a lot of fame across the pond. For several years, in fact. Staples of the Black-Adder series, both he and Stephen Fry are remarkable actors, and very, very funny. Laurie plays his Roger Charleston with a depth and understated grief. He shows his conviction of not giving up, of just living, that every parent that has suffered a loss should see and try to emulate.

As for the grieving mother, Imelda Staunton disappears into her role of Mary Charleston, much as she did in Vera Drake. Staunton plays Mary as the shell-shocked, hysterical figure we all assume we would be if such an event should ever happen to us. But she also plays the victim, outcast from her friends, unable to cope. Unable to move on. You see her loss in every gesture, every word, spoken or not.

For his part, Stephen Fry is also quite invisible in his role of Peter Morton. Gone is the quick wit and over-the-top flamboyance seen in the Black-Adder. Instead Fry goes the subtle route. And it fits the character well. Peter is a multilayered man, and though he gathers his friends together under false intentions, his motives are pure. And his relationship with Phyllida Law, Vera, the housekeeper, is one of the best in the movie.

Alphonsia Emmanuel has a very tough role to play. As the carefree, devil-may-care Sarah Johnson, she must be both flirtatious and guarded at the same time. Her love 'em and leave 'em attitude towards men over the years has finally caught up with her and now she must examine that aspect of her character. And Emmanuel has to to this while keeping the audience on her side. It's not an easy thing to do, and she falters a couple of times. We don't get to see her full character arc, but it is hinted at, and I think Sarah will eventually come around.

But it's Rudner who gets the short straw of the film. Primarily a comedian, she just doesn't have the acting chops to carry her weight with the rest of the cast. Branagh does his best to keep her afloat, but somewhere along the way, Rudner's Carol needs to come into her own. And it never happens. Not a horrible thing, but one that breaks the rhythm of the overall movie.

Still, a great little film that gets most everything right. And one that should make you revel in the friendships you have. Large and small.

-Jos

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive." ~Anäis Nin

Beat Me, Whip Me, Make Me Write Bad Checks...

2006-04-20T08:09:00.000-07:00

The past couple of days have been brutal. Had a client who was not happy with any of my solutions, didn't provide me with what I needed at the time I needed it, and still was upset when, after almost a week of jumping thru hoops, I was an hour behind in getting her proofs. Never mind the fact that we've waived all the art charges, most of the shipping, and had to sign a pact with Lucifer to get the project completed by her show on Saturday. Sigh. Just can't win for trying, sometimes.

And then our newest employee handed in her resignation yesterday. I knew she hadn't received the training she'd been promised, and she got a lot of grief over a lot of stuff that wasn't her fault, but still, I liked her. We had a good banter, and I'm going to hate seeing her go.

Also, got to drive all over God's creation in search of a gas station yesterday while riding on fumes. You'd be amazed just how close to a station that matches my gas card I'm not.

But it hasn't been all bad. Seems Mr. Darcy has reaped the benefits of being one of my Browncoats. Though, I think he should give the lessons a try. We could all use a good laugh at his expense. He and my Apocalypse Queen made it back from OK in good spirits.

Oh, and it turns out that I'm a positive match for Kidney Boy. But, I'm not the only one, and I only scored a 1 out of 6 out of a possible 6 out of 6. The doc said that since the kidney would be coming out of a (reasonably) healthy body, most of the time those scores are not a determining factor. Like I said, I'm not the only match. The ball's in Nathan's court now. You'll know more when I do.

Thanks for stopping by.

-Jos

"The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live." ~Flora Whittemore

Dunking Booths, Brick Festivals, and RPG's. How'd You Spend YOUR Easter?

2006-04-17T10:33:00.000-07:00

So the Whimsy got dunked Friday evening. The Elfin Princess and I ventured over to Six Flags over Jesus for the event. Yeah, Prestonwood Baptist, where God goes to church. Turns out that Whims was only one of 91 to go under that night. You read that right. Ninety. One. They were baptizing 3 at a time, and it still took almost half an hour. Still, mission accomplished. All's well.

Went to my first polo match on Saturday. Elfin, her kid sister, Suzie-Q, and the Lord of War and I trekked our way down south to Red Oak to the Dallas Polo Club. But not before taking a little detour past the Lancaster Airport.

Note to City of Red Oak: Put street signs on your streets!

It was a hard to choose between Polo or the Brick Festival, but in the end, horsies won out. But, it was a close decision. And I'm not entirely sure it was the right one.

Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was our complete lack of understanding of the rules. Or the fact that the scorekeepers seemed to making it up as they went along. But I think I understand why I've never been to a Polo match before. And will probably never go to another one. There's just something about traveling over an hour to a backwoods town that makes Mayberry look like Metropolis, to see a sport that's been obsolete for over a century, that just didn't appeal to me. I still think they could have stretched the game out a little longer, maybe thrown in some time-outs or, you know, a half-time, or something. It was over far too quickly to compensate for the drive out there.

Though we did get to relax for a bit, and that was nice.

After a shower and a Chick-Fil-A drive thru, TEP and LoW and I settled down for a night of gaming at Border's. We still had Varnell's Shadows of Camelot, so more than a couple of hours were lost to it's enchanting ways. Got to play the traitor this time, and had fun with it. And while the game moves more quickly with only 3 players, it's much more enjoyable with a full crew.

Hope your Easter was nice. Not too hot. Not too cool. We're getting a couple of 100 degree days here, only to catch our death of hypothermia when we're back down to 70 on Wednesday and the rest of the week.

Stupid Texas...

-Jos

"A horse is dangerous at both ends and uncomfortable in the middle." ~Ian Fleming

Feature Friday: A Man Called Peter

2006-04-14T13:24:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, during my readings, I came across a book about a Scottish minister that ended up in Washington D.C. as pastor of the Church of the Presidents during the 1940's. His name was Peter Marshall. And his wife, Catherine, had written the book. It was: A Man Called Peter.

It was a short book (I finished it in a couple of sittings), but it was well written. I found myself interested in this man of faith, and how God used him to influence those around him. His was a story I enjoyed, and longed to emulate.

About a year later, Heather and I started the Beacon, a bi-monthly newsletter for our singles class. Though I ended up being more of a co-editor, originally, the plan was for me to write book reviews. When she asked what book I'd like to start with, Marshall's story came to mind.

The column was a hit, and led to a fun (although short) stint as a reviewer, one that lit the spark that eventually led me to start this site.

Those of you who read that 1st issue (all 6 of you), know that I promised to review the movie version "someday." Well, your patience has paid off.

Title: A Man Called Peter
Year: 1955
Director: Henry Koster
Staring: Richard Todd, Jean Peters, Marjorie Rambeau, Jill Esmond, Les Tremayne, Robert Burton, Gladys Hurlbut, Richard Garrick, Gloria Gordon, Billy Chapin

The outskirts of Scotland during the turn of the last century, with it's poverty and desolation, was probably not the best environment for young Peter Marshall to grow up in. With a yearning to go to sea, to explore the world, having to stay in school was the worst punishment imaginable. But, a degree was promised to his mother, and Peter would not disappoint her. Though it would be difficult to come up with the money for university.

During his final semester, making his way from one of his many jobs, Peter (Todd) is on his way to class when he finds himself walking through a heavy fog. He hears a voice calling to him from outside his field of vision. It tells him to halt. Unable to find the source of the voice, Peter trips over a tree root. Just then, a small patch of the fog clears and Peter can see that he was heading toward the face of a cliff.

Convinced that it was the voice of God that saved him, Peter dedicates the rest of his life to his Maker.

We next find Peter a few years later, as pastor of Atlanta's Westminster Presbyterian Church. It is here that he aggress to run a rally in hopes of appealing to Atlanta's wayward youth. He calls on support from nearby Agnes Scott College, and is introduced to the person who will change his life forever, a student named Catherine Wood (Peters).

Impressed by Peter's humility and wit and natural charisma, Catherine soon finds herself falling in love with him. But it would take 3 more years for Peter to admit his true feelings. On November 4, 1936, Catherine and Peter were married.

Catherine soon finds herself in Washington D.C., with Peter serving as pastor of the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, the Church of the Presidents. And though Peter readily identified with the needs of the common working man, all is not smooth sailing. Miss Laura Fowler (Rambeau), is a wealthy patron of the church, and self-elected thorn in Peter's side. Her family has been members of the church since Lincoln's day, and she'll not see a Scottish immigrant bring a touch of ordinary into her scared place of worship.

However, not all is doom and gloom. Despite his humble background, Marshall continues to fill the pews to capacity each and every Sunday. And, he's made friends with several of the parishioners, including Senator Willis K. Harvey (Tremayne).

It is a dark time for America, as the war in Europe is hitting too close to home. Feeling led by God, Peter changes his sermon to the young cadets at Annapolis on a cold December Sunday to reflect on death and the afterlife. In a few short hours, that day will be forever remembered as a day of infamy.

Throughout the war, life goes on. Catherine gives birth to a son, Peter John (Chapin), and Peter suffers a heart attack while at the pulpit. Peter tries to take it easy, but is stopped cold when Catherine is diagnosed with tuberculosis. The only treatment at the time was total rest. Doctors assured her she would be well in three or four months, but two years later her situation remained unchanged.

Forced to accept that she has to turn everything over to God, she summits. Just as Peter comes to the same realization. Both come closer to each other, and to God.

At the invitation of Harvey, Peter accepts the role of Senate Chaplain in 1947 and again in 1949.

He would suffer a fatal heart attack in January of 1949, but his legacy and devotion to God would live on through his family and through his words.

An editorial in the Washington Evening Star captured the true spirit of Peter Marshall's brief but impassioned ministry:

"Living and working in Washington only eleven years, the Reverend Dr. Peter Marshall nevertheless has left his mark upon the whole city. He was a man of contagious spirit, eager and alert, quick to see opportunities of service and to meet their challenge....In classic language, he was a builder of the kingdom of God on this earth."

Richard Todd did such a wonderful job at bringing Marshall to life, that you forget you're watching a movie. Todd spent hours reading and listening to Marshall's sermons before taking on the role, and it shows. The film could have easily tipped into pious, but never does, mainly due to Todd's performance and Koster's typically smooth direction.

Jean Peters brings a wonderful presence to the piece as Catherine. Her narrative sets up the movie, as it also does in the book, and she pulls it off perfectly. And while it was rare to see chemistry between actors during the 50's, Peters and Todd have a lasting bond that comes through.

It is a great book, and a wonderful family film, one which I watch every year on Easter. I hope you will do the same this year.

-Jos

"...if God can do so much for a man called Peter, he can do as much for you." ~Catherine Marshall

He'll Be There

2006-04-13T08:01:00.000-07:00

When you're feeling down,
and there's trouble all around you,

When you feel like nothing's
gonna turn out right,

When you just can't find any silver lining,
Put your hands together, and hold on tight.

He'll be there,
when you need some comfort,

He'll be there,
when you need a friend.

He'll be there,
when the dark clouds are closing all around you.

But, you've got to believe,
when you get down on your knees,

He'll be there to make the sun shine again.

He'll be there to make the sun shine again.

-Jos

"If you're alone, I'll be your shadow. If you want to cry, I'll be your shoulder. If you want a hug, I'll be your pillow. If you need to be happy, I'll be your smile. But anytime you need a friend, I'll just be me." ~Author Unknown

(TAP) (TAP) This Thing On?

2006-04-12T09:47:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the silence yesterday. A large windstorm came up last night around 6 that looked very much like rain, although Becky swore that we wouldn't have rain this week at all. I've just come to accept the fact she's gonna lie to me everyday now.

Anyway, the transformer that brings the lovely, almighty Internet here to Jo'T HQ is a mite bit sensitive. To the extent that if one were to sneeze too loudly, e-mail and internet goes down.

Not that I had much to say, but that's not the point. It's the principal of the thing.

Really not that much to report. Work is getting grueling. Projects are backing up and client expectations are getting out of hand. And my boss isn't helping matters much. It's getting harder and harder to do what I do these days. I've lost the drive and want to do this job, and it's showing. I'm making rookie mistakes. Missing small details that, even a year ago, would have sent me over the edge. Now? I just don't care.

I think I've reached burn-out mode. It's been a while, almost 7 years, but I guess that makes sense. It may be time to start gearing up for a career change. But, just what that might be, I do not know. I don't think I'm ready to do the writing gig full time, but I guess there's never a "right time" to do anything.

As a wise man once said, "Do. Or do not. There is no try."

So. Yeah.

-Jos

"Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow." ~Mark Twain

Monday Already?

2006-04-10T09:37:00.000-07:00

So this weekend was pretty eventful. Friday saw the final installment of my little band's conversion to the Independents. Over the past month or so, I've enjoyed watching my peeps become more and more involved in the lives of a bunch of frontier traders trying to live their lives out on the fringes of the black. (A metaphor not completely wasted on me and my buds.) This all came to a conclusion last night with a viewing of The Master's silver screen debut. A most grand time was had. Darcy spoke for the rest of us, I believe, when he wailed "More!" after the credits started to roll. I'm sorry to see our time in the 'verse come to an end, but, if I know us (and MYSELF especially), I don't think we're quite done yet. After all, Halloween is only a short 6 months away...

Saturday was busy as well. The YP's were in charge of manning the bounce houses at the Easter Egg-travaganza for the little one's out at Breckinridge Park. And can I say that the wind woke up and decided to come out and play this weekend? Man, my poor little Jo'Tmobile nearly left the ground more than a couple of times, and NOT by way of the hover conversion I had installed a couple of months ago. Anyway, we had fun with the kid-o's on Sat morning. I haven't run a bounce house in a few years now. Not since my days at All 4 Fun. Amazing how much I forgot I enjoyed it. Though, I AM glad I didn't have to break them down and roll them back up. The munchkins had a blast, and, once the sun came out, so did the big kids.

Saturday night brought with it what I'm sure is going to be my gang's next big obsession: Shadows Over Camelot. It's a RPG that Varnell unleashed upon us during game night Saturday before last. To say that it is HIGHLY addictive is like saying that Freddie Prinze Jr. will never win an Oscar. We played 4 games Sat night, 2 with a traitor in our mists, and 2 without. I gotta admit, I do prefer the game with that cloak of deception over it. And while it's almost impossible to tell who in our group is not being completely honest (we all do it so, so well), the Lord of War and the Elfin Princess did admirably in the dark role. The game is a lot of fun, and I foresee many more hours lost to it's bewitching ways.

As for my crew, well, we're still fighting our way thru the Swamp of Sadness. But, like Atreyu, we just won't let the desolation get to us. We will prevail. My thanks to my Apocalypse Queen for her words Friday night. We WILL get through this. One step at a time. I will accept nothing less.

I got stabbed for Nathan this weekend as well. I made my way downtown on Friday and let the vampires at the Dallas Transplant Institute have their way with my arm. I swear that the whole process took less than 5 minutes, which somehow didn't make up for the the nearly 2 hours it took to drive downtown, get lost, and make my way back to work. But, all for a good cause, right?

Right.

Well, speaking of work, I've got more than my share to do now that I wasn't able to make it in over the weekend. (Some people would call that a GOOD thing, and I happen to agree with them.)

Thanks for reading. Get back to work...

-Jos

"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." ~Albert Schweitzer

Feature Friday: The Natural

2006-04-07T10:12:00.000-07:00

Ah, Spring is here. The weather is warming up, pale children who haven't seen the sun in months are venturing, cautiously, out into the sun, and the crack of the bat can be heard far and wide.

When I was a kid, there was a kind of magic about it. Baseball meant that school would be out in just a couple short months. That my friends and I would find ourselves spending hours running around the bases. That I would get to do one of my favorite things in the world: play catch with my Dad.

It is a ritual. A rite of passage, I suppose. Father's and Son's. Dad taught me to throw. How to catch. How to be patient and clear my mind. How, if I thought too hard about it, I'd psyche myself out. He cheered me on during my Little League games, and taught me how to handle defeat as well as victory.

The Summer I was 10, a movie came out that Dad and I could relate to. Yeah, we had bonded over the Indiana Jones and Star Wars movies, but this one was different. This one was as timeless as Father's and Son's themselves. It was about Baseball the way it was supposed to be played. Back before professional sports was more than just a group of individuals out to better only themselves. Back when being loyal to a team meant something. Back before ballplayers got paid millions of dollars.

Back when guys played for love of the game.

Title: The Natural
Year: 1984
Director: Barry Levinson
Staring: Robert Redford, Glenn Close, Kim Basinger, Wilford Brimley, Barbara Hershey, Robert Duvall, Robert Prosky, Richard Farnsworth, Joe Don Baker, John Finnegan, Michael Madsen

Welcome to small town America, circa 1915. We meet young Roy Hobbs, gifted athlete, trained under the watchful eye of his father. He perfects his natural talent, and with the support of the girl next door, Iris, Roy plans out the rest of his life.

Those plans are lost, however, when his father dies of a heart attack. During a thunderstorm, the tree his father died under is split apart by lightning. Roy cuts down the tree and carves a bat from it's trunk. He dubs the bat "Wonderboy," and burns a lightning bolt into the wood.

Flash forward a few years to 1923. 20 year old Roy (Redford) has just been called up to try out for the Chicago Cubs. He and his manager, Sam Simpson, are leaving in the morning. Roy spends his light night with Iris (Close), and promises to send for her once he's made the team.

The next day, Roy crosses paths with two very different people, people destined to change the course of his life. The Babe Ruth-inspired "Whammer" (Baker), and the mysterious Harriet Bird (Hershey). Along for the ride is sports writer Max Mercy (Duvall), acting as the Whammer's personal PR director. When their train stops to refuel near a county fair, old man Simpson can't help but take the opportunity to take Mercy and the Whammer down a couple of pegs. He challenges the Whammer to three pitches thrown by Roy. Powered by limitless ego and trying to win the affection of Harriet, the Whammer agrees. Besides, it'd help to give the town folk a chance to see their hero in action.

A large crowd gathers round to see Roy go head to head with the Whammer. Three pitches. Three strikes. The crowd goes nuts. And Harriet sees Roy in a new light.

When they reach Chicago, Roy receives an invitation to join Harriet at her hotel. But all is not well. Harriet is deranged and has been seeking out the "best" of every sport. She kills them all with a silver bullet. She attempts to do the same to Roy. After she shoots him, she jumps to her death.

16 years later.

It's now 1939, and things aren't looking too good for the down-on-their-luck New York Knights. Manager Pop Fisher (Brimley) is at the end of his contract, and is looking to buy out the club from a corrupt judge (Prosky). Problem is, the Knights are in the bottom of the cellar, with no hopes of making enough this season to help him. He and his partner, Red (Farnsworth), are quietly adjusting to the end of their careers when fate walks through the door.

35 year old Roy Hobbs has been sent by the Knights' talent scout for a try-out. Pop, understandably, is furious. "You don't start playing ball at your age, you retire." Red is willing to take a chance on the "kid." But, Pop is unsure about this "middle-aged rookie."

Unable to play, or even practice, for the first few games, Roy is agitated. After an outburst with Pop, he is reluctantly allowed to join batting practice. The results are outstanding. With Wonderboy in his hand, Roy can do no wrong. Pop wonders why someone with Roy's talent, he hasn't played anywhere before.

The following day, unhappy with outfielder Bartholomew 'Bump' Bailey (Madsen), Pop gives Roy a chance to prove himself. "Knock the cover off the ball," he jests to Roy as he makes his way to the plate. Roy does just that. He becomes an overnight success. Suddenly, the Knights are big news again, and Roy is leading the headlines.

The Judge is none too happy about the recent turn of events, and starts pulling the strings he's secretly put in place. Strings involving the Knights pitcher, an uncredited Tom Sizemore, and Bump Bailey. The Judge's cohorts also involve the gambler, Gus Sands, the late Darren McGavin, and his girl, Memo Paris (Basinger). With the Knights returning to true form, under Roy's lightning bolt banner, all bets are off when it comes to lengths the Judge will resort to.

The Natural is a throw back to the magic of baseball in it's purest form. Of the feeling of standing on fresh grass under a "sky so blue you have to squint to look at it." Of your heart skipping a beat as the bat meets ball. And that indescribable feeling of sliding home with dust in the air and dirt in your cleats. One of the best feelings in the world.

Robert Redford is one of the greatest actors and directors of our time. More than the pretty boy and leading man of the late 60's and most of the 70's, he has a charisma and integrity that just seems to be lacking in most of today's actors. He has a quality about him that defies description. And gives such a real, dare I say "natural," performance, that you forget that he's playing a part. And while there are a lot to choose from, this is my favorite Redford role.

Wilford Brimley and Richard Farnsworth breathe new life into the paint-by-number roles of ball manager's Pop and Red. They have a wonderful chemistry on screen, and you can tell they had fun on the set. Their banter is loose and free and never forced. Two great character actors with fun characters to play.

The women of the Natural have as much diversity as the actresses playing them. Barbara Hershey is cold and intense. Her Harriet Bird is calculating and deadly. A very one-note character, yet Hersey allows us to see behind the veil a couple of times, and that just makes her even more creepy.

Basinger plays the fem fatale quite well, despite this being one of her first roles. Memo Paris wants to be bad, but can't quite pull it off. She has a weakness, Roy, and she's scared that she may jeopardize all that she's worked for if it she can't get past it. It makes her a dangerous character, one whose actions we're never sure will be.

And Glenn Close has the hardest part to play. Iris the "angel" of the story. Always there to lead Roy back on the right track. It's her strength and support that sends him out to Chicago in the first place. Her innocence that brings him back from his slump. And her love that helps him stand up again, when he thinks he's down for good.

The Natural is based on the novel by Bernard Malamud. And while the movie differs from the book, both are quite good.

This past Monday saw the opening of Baseball season, here in Texas. And, while I don't pay much attention to pro ball that much anymore, I still play softball with my church group. Now, we may not be the best, but we play with heart. And that's what matters.

It's also why I'll always play with #9 on my jersey.

-Jos

"You gotta be a man to play baseball for a living, but you gotta have a lot of little boy in you, too." ~Roy Campanella

Back From The Black

2006-04-06T08:58:00.000-07:00

It seems as though a couple of my crew have gone and got themselves stuck deep within the Pit of Despair. Now, it falls on me - their ever-faithful Captain - to reach down and pluck them back out. As I'm wont to do, seeing as how a good Captain is only as diligent as his crew. (And with this bunch, I need all the help I can get.)

So, I suppose I should share a story with you good folk, to help liven everyone up. Because, if you're laughing AT me...well, you've got pretty much the whole world on your side. And that can't be bad.

Come now. Gather 'round. This might be a tad longish, so I'd get comfortable if I were you...

***

On several occasions over the years, I've often been prompted by my friends to recall the events surrounding my 21st birthday. Now, I have a number of reasons for not doing so. Chief among them, the fact that, at 21, I was not yet the man I am today. I was still young and raw and fresh and hopeful for the future. More easily persuaded by carnal desires than by moral ones. I was still new, still unmade.

At 21, the world is golden and shiny. Still holden to the romance of the words of Keats and Byron and Kerouac. Even a little Bob Dylan and Tom Waits, if the truth be known.

I could list hundreds of examples of young men doing foolhardy things to appease the trappings of youth. And most would be justified. I could tell you of many a person whose good intentions got the better of them. I could even refuse to tell on the grounds of temporary insanity.

However, the main reason I choose not to share is the fact that it’s so damn embarrassing.

To that end, the only way I’d even consider recanting my tale is my changing the names of those involved. Well, the innocent ones at least. The names of the guilty will remain as they are, if only to ensure humiliations galore.

We begin our story on the eve of 30th December, 1994, the day before my 21st. Oh yeah, I'm a New Year's Eve Baby. You should remember that. It will be important later.

Anyway, I'm on the phone with, oh, let's call her "Melissa." Mainly, because that's her name.

Melissa and I met in art school, and even though we'd both graduated and moved on, we still kept in touch. She was living with her folks, in a little town in up-state Illinois. I was working and living here in Dallas - Another point you'd do well to remember.

Also, I suppose in the spirit of good conscience, I should point out that I may have had a "thing" for said Melissa. Yeah, so there's that...

So we're on the phone and she starts asking about my birthday plans. She goes on to tell me that she misses her friends form Big D, and wouldn't mind coming out and seeing everyone. And seeing as how it IS my birthday...

You can already see where this heading, can't you? Well, you're right. Happy? What? You want a cookie or something?

Now, as it is the end of the year, and I've just been paid, all is well with the plan to arrange a flight for one the following morning. (We'll just pretend that I make enough for this to actually happen. Just go with it. It's a story. Suspend that disbelief a little, would ya?) ((Truth is, I did NOT have the funds to make so outrageous a gesture, but I did it anyway, because, well, she was really cute...))

The morning of the 31st came in gray and overcast. Dallas doesn't get the winters of legend of, say, Colorado or Minnesota, but it can get down-right cold for a city made up of glass and concrete. There was a chill in the air that ate right thru my Blue-Light Special Member's Only wind-breaker as I made my way to DFW at that ungodly hour of 5 and 30. (Yeah, the red-eye was the cheapest flight I could get. I may have been smitten, but I was no fool.)

This was pre-9 Eleven, back when you could actually wait at the gate of an arriving plane. Remember that? I was able to take note of how tall each of the people disembarking from the terminal were. More than a few of them looked familiar, as well. It took a few minutes to realize that I was looking at the entire roster of the then unknown Dallas Mavericks. What amazed me even more was that Melissa was the only female (besides the flight crew) on board.

Now, you'd think getting to spend an entire flight with tall, young basketball players, a flight where YOU were the only member of the fairer sex, that a person would be quite content with that day's state of affairs.

Yeah, you'd be wrong.

Without so much as a "hello" (not to mention a "thank you"), Melissa goes into a rant about having to get up early and having to hire a limo to drive her to the airport because the taxi's would not venture out in the ice and snow, and I really SHOULD have offered to pay for that, and she had to fly all the way here with a basketball team for crying out loud, and all of her luggage better be here or so help me, and where did you park? And so on and so forth...

And this was only the beginning. Had I known how things would have turned out, I would have put her on the next flight back to Illinois right then and there. However, I was young, stupid, and destined to live out the rest of that weekend.

***

To Be Continued...

-Jos

"Youth is a wonderful thing. What a crime to waste it on children." ~George Bernard Shaw

Feature Friday: Heat

2006-03-31T12:49:00.000-08:00

It was a Tuesday afternoon, and Rueben and I were at the bank, making a deposit. It was around 2:15 and the place was deserted. As we were just about to leave, an armored truck pulled up. Apparently to pick up the excess cash from the vault and the ATM and carry it back to the main branch, downtown.

But what got our attention, was that there was only one driver. And only one guard at the bank. I turned to Rueben and raised my eyebrows.

"You saw that too?" he asked.

Yeah, I saw it. And immediately started working on the story that would eventually become the main focal point of my novel, The Choirboy Chronicles.

However, at the time, it got Rueben and me thinking of how easy it could have been. How effortless. As he said, "We have nothing to lose." It really was an interesting proposition...

This past weekend, The Elfin Princess and the Lord of War and myself saw Spike Lee's newest joint, Inside Man. Now, I adore a good bank heist, and I love a clever script. I'm pleased to say that Inside Man is both. And so much more. Denzel Washington is great as the Detective in charge. And Clive Owen is masterful as the con trying to pull off the perfect bank robbery.

It got me thinking of old the Sidney Lumet films, of Serpico, and Dog Day Afternoon. Of Scorsese's Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. How I loved Pacino and De Niro. And how for one glorious moment, in the summer of 1995, the planets aligned to give us those two very wonderful actors together in one of the greatest heist films of all time.

Title: Heat
Year: 1995
Director: Michael Mann
Staring: Al Pacino, Robert De Niro, Val Kilmer, Jon Voight, Tom Sizemore, Diane Venora, Amy Brenneman, Ashley Judd, Natalie Portman

Our film opens with Neil McCauley's (De Niro)'s crew getting ready for a job. They are a whip-sharp group consisting of the point man, Michael Cheritto (Sizemore), demolition's expert, Chris Shiherlis, (Kilmer), and even President Palmer himself, Dennis Haysbert. This is a close-nit crew, and everyone has their job to do. We find out early on that they've taken on a new member, Waingro, played by uber-thug, Kevin Gage. This will prove to be a mistake.

The opening job is to knock over an armored truck. McCauley's crew is quick and efficient. Bold, yet calculating. With nothing is left to chance. Nothing but Waingro, that is. Turns out he thinks himself a cowboy, and shoots an unarmed security guard just because he can. McCauley knows he in trouble now, and tries to find a way to clean up Waingro's mess.

Meanwhile, Lt. Vincent Hanna (Pacino) is having troubles of his own. His new wife, Justine (Venora) and her daughter Lauren (Portman). Looking for a way to escape the situation at home, Hanna delves into the armored truck case.

McCauley is approached by his fence, Nate (Voight), and is presented with a high-caliber, high-profile job: knock off a large bank in downtown L.A. While he's deciding if he want to take the job or not, he meets Eady (Brenneman), and starts a relationship with her.

As McCauley's life starts to settle down, Hanna's starts to take off. He tracks down Shiherlis' wife, Charlene (Judd), and starts twisting the screws. McCauley becomes wise to this, however, and starts playing a game of cat and mouse with Hanna, with each trying to outsmart the other.

It boils down to a daring daylight robbery complete with what is probably the best shoot-out ever caught on film.

Heat is a very clever, very pretty movie. Mann, known for his beautiful imagery, doesn't disappoint here. He uses a bold color palette, and L.A. has never looked better.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Pacino is king. He has a commanding presence in this film that is hard to deny. He is at times both charming and intimating. A very versatile actor who loves chewing his way through a scene. In a key scene with De Niro, one where both of them are in a diner, he decides to play it very subtle. Very quiet. Very calculating. It's quite impressive and over far too quickly.

De Niro is very convincing as Neil McCauley. It's a character you've seen before, but Bobby breathes new life into him. He's just as clever and charming as Hanna. But that dangerous side is just a heartbeat away. And you never know what will set it off. But McCauley is so good at what he does, you're rooting for him to get away with it from almost the get go.

These are 2 of the finest actors working today. And while they haven't been in top form in a while, it's good to go back and watch films like these that remind us why we loved them in the first place.

The supporting cast is quite good as well. Sizemore has fun as Cheritto and Kilmer disappears into the role of Chris Shiherlis. Both do a wonderful job as the main members of the best crew in L.A., and it's fun to see them do what they do. They play a major part in the shoot-out that is the film's climax, and the results are just breathtaking.

But the men in the movie wouldn't be who they are without the women in their lives. Diane Venora is as elegant as Judd is tough and Brenneman is vulnerable. Each are the equal of the men they stand behind. And each help to bring the film to a new level. There's even a look at the early career of Natalie Portman. While her role is small, it does play a major part in Hanna's development and gives us an understanding to why he makes the decisions he does.

A very enjoyable film, with great actors and a very clever story. And one that I'd recommend seeing with a surround-sound system. You won't be sorry.

-Jos

"When I was young I thought that money was the most important thing in life; now that I am old I know that it is." ~Oscar Wilde

M-I-C-K-E-Y

2006-03-30T17:56:00.000-08:00

When I was working at (NAME WITHHELD) there was a guy who came around every month or so to service all of the printers we used. His name was Mickey. Mickey was in his early 60's, had grown kids and a couple of grandkids.

Here was a guy who should have been resting in a hammock somewhere with a stack of books as tall as he was. Instead, Mickey was on the road well over 300 days of the year, running from one printhouse to another. And not because he loved it. (He hated the entire print industry, as a matter of fact.) No, he did it because he didn't have 2 dimes to rub together most of the time.

Mickey did what he did because he didn't know anything else. He had no savings, no pension, no nest-egg. No rich relative from which to receive a large inheritance. No, Mickey was stuck. Going where no one else wanted to go. Doing what no one else wanted to do. Because he had to. If he didn't, chances were pretty good that he wouldn't have a job anymore.

I don't want to end up like that. I don't want to do what I'm doing today for the next 30 years. I don't want to be Mickey.

But there are times I feel like I'm well on my way. And that scares me to no end.

-Jos

"There is much in the world to make us afraid. There is much more in our faith to make us unafraid." ~Frederick W. Cropp

Walking On Eggshells

2006-03-30T09:02:00.000-08:00

Now, it's one thing to fight the urge to cram a keyboard down the throat of a client who's expectations are set somewhere in the ionosphere, but it's quite another when they get offended when asked what her PMS Color is. Granted, I try to use the full name, Pantone Matching System, whenever I can, and the client in question was being a tad bit - shall we say, witchy? But, come on! Offended? For 3 letters that aren't so universal, after all. Really?

At least we didn't order a Test & Approval, or, you know, a T&A...

Strange things are afoot here, at the Circle K, my friends. Writing is being done, but not for spec-scripts. Drawings are being made, but not for storyboards. And friendships are being lost, but not by betrayals. Boy Scouts are being hounded Uncle Sam, power struggles are coming to a head, and dark allegiances are being formed.

I'm just ready for this week to be over. Once again, I feel like I've worked 80 hours, and it's only Thursday. Not that I haven't pulled that off before, but this is different. This is an emotional weariness, as well as a physical one. My neck and back haven't stopped aching, and I'm not convinced it's solely because of the change in the weather.

Something's up. I can smell it in the air. I can feel it in my bones. And, I'm not sure what the final outcome is going to be.

It's a dark time for our rebellion, Dear Readers. At least at times like these I can find solace and serenity in the shadow of the moon. Wait. That's no moon...

-Jos

"In certain trying circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity furnishes a relief denied even to prayer." ~Mark Twain

Occam's Razor

2006-03-29T18:40:00.000-08:00

It's not always fun being able to determine what's about to happen. To sense when a project will fall through. To choose not to read the writing on the wall. To convince yourself that you did not interpret the body language a certain way.

Sometimes, it's better for the soul to try to come up with explanations for events that are far less realistic than the simple truth. A truth you don't want to face. Ironically, a truth we can't handle. Sometimes it's better to hide behind our imaginations and let the world exist in a million shades of grey. When, of course, most of the time it is only black and white.

But, in the end, Occam was right. The simplest explanation is almost always the correct one.

We have been blessed with intelligence. With the ability to reason. With the hunger for knowledge. But, alas, it's also a curse. One that feeds on emotion. On inspiration. On dreams.

Sometimes, I just hate knowing what's about to happen before it actually does.

Goodnight, my friend. May your days always be long, and your nights be warm.

-Jos

"I felt it shelter to speak to you." ~Emily Dickinson

Don't Drink And Draw...

2006-03-27T00:53:00.000-08:00

I've noted on several occasions that Shiner Bock was the official soft drink of the Dallas Art Institute, and with good reason. There were many a day when my cohorts would need the warming effects of that amber nectar just to make it thru the next class.

This was true at no greater time than the night before projects were due.

One such night took place during the end of our 3rd quarter. All of the Scosa's were accounted for: Sparky, Sti-Fu, Lady Steph, Belligerent Tom, Plainview, Sin-D, E-Rock, and myself. And Rueben. It was one of the last times all of us would be in the same class. Thanks, I'm sure, in part to our class administrative advisor, Lauren House, and her complete, bitter contemptment of the very air my small band of merry men (and women) breathed.

Anyway, I'd had to work at the Peach Pit until 9, and now it's after 10 pm and the crew has just decided to get around to the assignment, due the following morning at 8 am. If I recall correctly, the assignment was to create 3 different fashion designs, complete with textures and color schemes, directly onto the art board, and finish with taped edges and hardstock overlay for protection. As was my part on the assembly line, I was busy working away on the finished boards with the beveled mat cutter and black masking tape. (It helps to realize that I do this not only because I'm the one sober person in the room at this point, but also, that I wouldn't trust the rest of those idiots with a sharp blade if my life depended on it. Which it did, at one point, but that too, is another story.)

So I look over at the group to see how close we are to finishing, and see them converging over Rueben. Now, Rueben had started drinking sometime around 9 that morning in order to stay on the same level of McCoy, our life drawing instructor. (This was something of a must with McCoy, seeing as she herself had a tendency to spend a little too much time conversing with the Dark Troll.) Regardless, Rueben's somewhere into his 3rd case of Shiner by that point, and is feeling quite good about the state of the world.

Except, here's the thing. He's so blitzed that he's done the assignment in the BACK of the art board. The blue side. Sparky and Sti-Fu are crying, they're laughing so hard, and Lady Steph's rolling around on the Sugar-Pop covered floor. I (being the usual voice of reason) make a motion to alert Rueben of his folly. But to no avail. The others won't stand for it. "It's time for us to stop bailing him out," they state. "It's time for him to take responsibility for his own actions."

Cut to class, the next day. Rueben can't even remember the day before, let alone the project (which I matted and overlaid for him, anyway) so he doesn't see it before he turns it in. The rest of us are hovering around the instructor's desk, waiting for her to start grading.

Now, the story could end here, and I'd be happy if it did. Because it would prove how good triumphs over evil. How doing your best will help you overcome the pitfalls of society. How life could be seen as fair.

So, of course, it doesn't...

See, when we got the projects back, our instructor was in a mood about how we just didn't understand the assignment. How we were just putting designs down on paper with no real passion for it. How none of the projects held even the slightest level of creativity.

Save one.

Yeah, you guessed it. Overwhelmed by his sense of originally and ability to think outside the box, Rueben was given the only "A" on that project.

Just goes to show you, life is only as fair as you can fake it.

Take heed, kids, don't drink and draw...or you'll end up getting an A.

Think I need a drink...

-Jos

Sometimes when I reflect back on all the beer I drink I feel ashamed. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn't drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. Then I say to myself, it is better that I drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver. ~Jack Handey ~Saturday Night Live

So It's Come To This, Eh?

2006-03-25T14:37:00.000-08:00

I agree with Wing. You geeks have gone too far!

Varnell, I'm looking at you...

"You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm." ~Colette

Feature Friday: The Rocketeer

2006-03-24T09:52:00.000-08:00

I've always wanted to fly. When I was a kid, I used to safety-pin beach towels around my neck and jump out of the tallest trees I could climb. (Was also pushed out of my treehouse at one point, but that's another story) I gave the 'rents gray hairs by running along rooftops with John Williams' Superman theme blasting loudly from my bedroom window.

As I grew older, that passion turned into an interest in aviation. I spent hours pouring over library and text books on every kind of aircraft I could get my hands on. I took trips to Shreveport's Barksdale AFB, where I could study up close such planes as the F-14 Tomcat and (my favorite) the SR-71 Blackbird. I also grew to love the style and elegance of the vintage pre-WWII planes I found in my research.

During high school, I briefly joined the Civil Air Patrol with the intention of joining the Air Force upon graduation. I had dreams of attending the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. This dream was short lived, though, when I discovered that my bad ears put me on the blacklist of ever becoming a pilot. If I were to fly anything for Uncle Sam, it would be a desk.

However, it was during my short stint in CAP that I saw a movie that gave my love of flight a shot in the arm. (And no, it wasn't Top Gun. That was 6th grade, and only made we want to do 2000 crunches a day and play volleyball. That, and feel weird about having to see Tom Cruise in his Tidy-Whities.) No, this film was based on the work of Dave Stevens, one of my favorite artists at the time. The graphic novel was full of action, adventure, mobsters, Nazis, and wantabe actresses. Oh, and a portable jetpack that could carry you into the sky without that cumbersome plane around you to hinder the experience.

Title: The Rocketeer
Year: 1991
Director: Joe Johnston
Staring: Bill Campbell, Jennifer Connelly, Alan Arkin, Timothy Dalton, Paul Sorvino, Terry O'Quinn

Ah, 1930's Los Angeles. Clean air, beautiful countryside vistas, and Brother Justin on the radio. Also? Mobsters being chased by the fed's, each firing tommy-guns at the other. It seems that an experimental "object" has been stolen from Hughes Air, and Uncle Sam wants it back.

The theives are chased into an old airfield hanger used by barnstormers Cliff Secord (Campbell) and A. 'Peevy' Peabody (Arkin). During the firefight, Secord's plane is damaged and crashes. In the confusion, the theives switch the "object" for a vacuum cleaner in the hanger, and crash the car into a fuel truck. The feds assume the "object" is destroyed.

Once the dust settles, Cliff and Peevy find themselves without a plane for the Nationals . They discover the "object," and learn that it's really a rocket pack that can be worn on your back. In debt to airfield owner Otis Bigelow for the fuel truck, Cliff wants to try to use the rocket to earn some cash.

Meanwhile, Cliff's girl, Jenny (Connelly), is desperately trying to break into the acting business. She's enamored by the Errol Flynn-esque Neville Sinclair (Dalton), and dreams of being in a scene with him. Sinclair has another agenda, however, as we learn that he is the one who hired the theives to steal the rocket. Theives under the leadership of mob boss Eddie Valentine (Sorvino).

Over the course of the movie, bumbling mechanics are rescued in mid-air, mobster thugs are broken in half, quiet homes are shot up by the feds, girlfriends are kidnapped, Nazis are vanquished, and heroes are made. Add in everyone's favorite eccentric billionaire, Howard Hughes (O'Quinn), and you've got the makings of a great popcorn movie.

This is just a fun movie, no matter how you spin it. It has the feel of the old serials from which the characters are based (not to mention, the inspiration of a certain flannel-clad uber-director). The effects still hold up today, and the performances are sprinkled with a touch of innocence reminiscent of Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Bill Campbell has fun with Cliff Secord. Not a Hollywood A-List actor, Campbel brings a sense of the everyman to his role. His reactions are natural and help you ride along side of him, experiencing everything as he does. Just a fun role.

I've spoken of Jennifer Connelly before, and nothing has changed. This was her first movie since her break-out role in Career Opportunities, and she doesn't disappoint. The Rocketeer was filmed over 15 years ago, and neither her acting nor her beauty have faltered since then. If anything, she's gotten better. On both counts.

Alan Arkin was born to play parts like this. His Peevy is the scatterbrained mechanic with touches of pure genius and a loveable demeanor. Arkin could have played this in his sleep, but didn't. He brings to Peevy an aloofness and spirit that grounds the character. You see the relationship of mentor he has to Cliff, and the bond between the two really shine through on screen.

I'd forgotten just how dashing Timothy Dalton could be. I supposed my judgment was clouded by his being horribly miscast as Bond in The Living Daylights and License to Kill (though Mark would disagree with me there). And there's really no excuse for Prince Barin. But, I watched The Rocketeer again last weekend and was truly amazed at how well Dalton played the part. He just looked so natural with a saber in his hand. And charming. Wow, it wasn't hard for Connelly to act attracted to the man. Dalton has fun with the part and does a good turn as the man with a secret.

And seeing John Locke on screen is just a treat. Even with hair, Terry O'Quinn brings with him a sense of importance and authority. And while he may not have had Leo's OCD, this was one Howard Hughes I could believe in.

All in all a fun movie with a little something for everyone. Go watch it this weekend and enjoy a snapshot of Hollywood in the golden days of yesteryear.

-Jos

"It's never safe to be nostalgic about something until you're absolutely certain there's no chance of its coming back." ~Bill Vaughn

The 4th Law

2006-03-23T10:26:00.000-08:00

I really shouldn't be telling you this story.

It's still far too early, as all of the principals are still alive.

That, and I could probably still get in trouble for it. Or grounded, at the very least...

It was my Junior year of high school, and getting close to Science Fair season. As my class was the one to beat (the top 1% of the entire North Louisiana school elite sat in my classroom), it was expected for us to come up with some pretty original projects. Now, at the time, I was too busy arguing with John Robert about the genius of adding the "Hamburger and French Fry Only" line to the cafeteria and debating the latest episode of "Head of the Class," to pick a good project off the list. Renee scooped up Hydroponics. Aaron chose Cryonics. And Opie took my old idea from the year before, Electrolysis (the tarnish removal system, not the hair removal one). So by the time the list got to me, there wasn't much left to choose from.

DDT (Dr. Donis Taylor) was already showing the early signs of impatience, despite us only being 5 minutes into the 1st hour, and she was ready to give the entire right half of the room detention just out of the sheer principal of the thing. So I said the first thing that came to mind: Thermodynamics. I'm not even sure where I'd heard it before. My mind has this bad habit of recording anything it sees or hears, regardless of the level of importance. The project seemed to please old Battle Axe, though, and that was good enough for me.

But now I was stuck. I had to do a project on an area of science I had no prior knowledge of. Now, some of you younglings out there won't believe this, but this was long before the Internet was even a twinkle in Al Gore's eye. And my home set of the Encyclopedia Glactica was published sometime around the Jefferson administration. The school text books were just as useless, seeing as how they claimed that Nixon was considering a 2nd term.

Now Blondie had a contact over at the LA Tech library, and scheduled some time to get me into the science department. So I made the trek to beautiful downtown Ruston, and did some research. Basically, Thermodynamics breaks down into 3 Laws:

First Law: Energy Can Be neither Created nor Destroyed

Second Law: The Entropy of an Isolated System always Increases

Third Law: The Entropy of a Perfect Crystal at Absolute Zero is Zero

All well and good, right? Right.

Thing is, I was about three pages too short for the assigned report, so I...well, I kinda made up a 4th law.

I know, I know, but that shows you just how bad the Louisiana school system is. And I'm not even sure today what I used as the 4th Law. But that's not important.

Because, here’s the thing. I made it to the state science fair on that one! At first, it was out of desperation to complete the assignment. Then, after I fooled my Chemistry teacher and a couple Shreveport scientists, I couldn’t resist. I had to see how far I could take it.

I'm pretty good at thinking on my feet, and have this (not entirely non-evil) ability to make what I'm saying sound believable. It may not have been too ethical, but man, was it ever fun! I won the school Science Award that year and was even given a medal and some cash for college by a local laboratory.

I’m going to hell for that. But it makes for a great story.

-Jos

"Science does not know its debt to imagination." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Reluctant Responsibilities

2006-03-22T08:19:00.000-08:00

So dinner with Chase and the lovely Cas went well last night. Though, their apartment was next to impossible to find. Especially in the dark. That and a couple of the streets with very similar names didn't help much. However, once I made it inside their complex, all was good.

After a delicious home-cooked meal (man, when was the last time I had one of those?) Chase and I began to work on the storyboard breakdowns. Cas and I chimed in and we kind of re-wrote the intro the movie. Chase thinks it's a better opening (I hope), so I don't feel so bad about taking my idea and running with it. Now all I have to do is remember how to draw again, so I can get these storyboards out ASAP.

It's only Wednesday, but I feel like I've already worked a full week. I haven't been getting those daily pre-dawn wake up calls lately, but my body still feels drained. My back and neck have been getting stiff quicker and longer than before, and I'm starting to worry about it. The doc's said that I'd always have trouble with this, but I guess I wasn't expecting this much discomfort. Guess I'm just falling apart. Wonder how much Oscar Goldman would charge me for an upgrade?

Things over here are going well. For the moment. No word yet on the outcome of those late night rendezvous, so I can't share anything out of turn. The spec-script is shaping up. I talked Nathan and Jenny thru the outline, and they both gave me some good pointers. I have a brand new pack of Bristol blue-line artist boards sitting on my drawing table. Mocking me with their clean surfaces and their limitless possibilities. Their Jason Voorhees-esque mantra of "Submission...Submission" not so quietly lulling me to sleep at night. I still have time to put together a couple of pieces for the April DCC. Just need to sit down and do it. And the spec-script. And Chase's storyboards. And find some time for myself. And solve world hunger and discover a cure for the common cold while I'm at it.

And all that during my "free time."

Uh...yeah.

-Jos

"A man sooner or later discovers that he is the master-gardener of his soul, the director of his life." ~James Allen

It's Not On MY Side...

2006-03-21T18:06:00.000-08:00

Ever had one of those days where time just seems to keep getting away from You?

All day long, I've tried not to look at the clock, because I'm already late, and I don't need the added reminder. Projects are due with no regard for proper deadlines, client meetings are running over with reckless abandon, and every time I've tried to stop and write an entry, something else crashes into my little corner of the world.

The evening looks promising, however. I'm going over to Chase's tonight to have dinner with him and Cas. Also, to work a little on the storyboards for his class film project. I'm sure it'll be fun.

Did see V for Vendetta Thursday night. VERY good. Highly recommended. Good story. Interesting characters. Moving plot. And Great effects. I probably shouldn't have chosen Thurs night to pull a double feature, seeing as I haven't done that in a while, but overall, I'm glad I did. Just wish my partner would have stuck it out for both movies. Enjoyment would have been had.

Not sure just what the weather has in mind for the rest of the month, though I wish it wouldn't involve my back quite so much. What with the rain last weekend and the winter-like chill in the air this week, the little demon pixies in my back are lashing out in full force. I can barely sit in one position for any length of time. Making that whole 10-12 hours at work sitting in front of the evil box all day, and the idiot box all night, fall just somewhere between having a root canal sans Novocaine and Chinese water torture. But without all the blissful death and all. Ah, the price we have to pay for the follies of our youth, huh?

Have a good evening. See you on the flip side.

-Jos

"Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils." ~Louis Hector Berlioz

When It Rains...

2006-03-20T08:48:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry to report that my writing muse packed up her bags and went to stay at her mother's this past weekend. I started several entries both Friday and Saturday, but to no avail. I just couldn't find my rhythm, couldn't set my pace to open the floodgates of the Well of Lost Plots.

Everything I wanted to say...I couldn't. There are things going on in my life that I can't really share here, as this is a (somewhat) public journal, and I'd like to protect the privacy of the people in (and out of) my life, as well as my own. I'll never be able to tell you everything that's going on, but that was never the intention of this site anyway.

Regardless, due to unforeseen stresses on the job front, clandestine meetings in the dead of night, miscommunications and the inability to wear a decent poker face (not to mention that anniversary I'd rather not remember), the middle of the 3rd month hasn't been the best of times for me. And the torrents of rain that turned this weekend into something out of Noah's Captain's Log haven't helped much either.

On a lighter note, I was able to take Nathan out to lunch for his birthday. Yesterday, he and Jenny and I made our way thru the floods to Chipotle. Good food and good conversation, just what the doctor ordered. We talked about everything from Spring Break to the engineering disadvantages of college cafeterias to the elementary playgrounds of the late 70's and early 80's that seemed to be designed solely to kill children by way of natural selection. I mean, do you remember those playgrounds? Nathan and I are convinced that the parents of the 70's were only interested in making their kids as tough as humanly possible. Lawn Darts, anyone? Seriously, the playground at McDonalds was parking lot concrete, 3 feet thick with tissue-thin Astroturf stapled down over it. It's a wonder any of us survived at all.

I hope everyone made it home safe from the rain, even though we needed it. Just not all at once.

Thanks for stopping by.

-Jos
"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain." ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Is It Friday Yet?

2006-03-16T18:28:00.000-08:00

Today was a good day. Dad and K made the trek up from the swamp to retrieve their truck and return my beloved Jo'T-mobile. The tech's did a good job repairing the damage to the front fender and I must say the new rocket launcher works extremely well. They even added a cloaking device for no extra cost.

The 'rents and I had lunch at Humperdink's and got to hang out a little. I'd forgotten that March Madness started today, so we had to yell over the den of excited of college B-Ball fans. Saw a report on the news this morning that said "experts" estimate that something like $1.4 billion will be lost nationwide due to employees paying more attention to their bracket than their job. Scary.

Actually going to get out of the house tonight. Have a movie or 2 lined up for tonight. Don't remember the last movie I saw in the theater. Brokeback, maybe? Anyway, I've got tickets for the new Bruce Willis flick, 16 Blocks. I hear good things, and I like Richard Donnor. Though, he has been more miss than hit as of late. Here's to him pulling this one out.

Also have tickets for an early screening of V For Vendetta. I'm a big fan of the graphic novel, and can't wait to see it on the big screen. Everything I've read and seen on it has been favorable. Keeping my fingers crossed. I'll let you know how it is.

We're already half way thru March, people. Can you believe it?

Enjoy the weather today (it was beautiful this afternoon). It's supposed to rain all weekend, so yeah.

Sorry for the lackluster entry. Nothing much to say today. I'll be better tomorrow for the Feature Friday. Promise.

Oh, and the meeting last night went well. I'll say more when I can...

Thanks for stopping by.

-Jos

Be content with what you have, rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you. ~Lao Tzu

All Good Things... (Take 3)

2006-03-15T16:33:00.001-08:00

We had a saying back at Nomadic: "It's always faster the fifth time you do it." At first, it was used to illustrate the point that if you had time to reprint a job more than once, you had time to do it right the first time, regardless of rush.

All that is to say that this is my 3rd attempt to write this entry. My first try was this morning, but there's just never enough time in the morning to write what I want before the phones start ringing and I have to don my fireman's hat. The second time met with an untimely computer crash. That was around lunchtime so I decided to wait until now to try it one more time.

Hmm, just saw the calendar. Guess I, like Jules, should have listened to that soothsayer, huh?

Anyway, I had written a pretty good deal about how long I've been working in the trade show industry (12 years) and how the friendships I formed along the way were an inspiration to me, and how I'm not as satisfied with my chosen profession as much as I once was, and how much I'm ready for a career change. And perhaps out of the art field entirely. Yeah, it was going along fairly well. And then my computer crashed.

I was a little despondent today, what with all the projects on my desk that never seem to go away and constant feeling that I would be happier doing something else with my time and talents. Though, just WHAT that would be, I can't exactly say.

Well, it's mid-afternoon and I'm still more than a little burned out, but a paycheck and some Chipotle have helped replenish the old batteries. But I'll take gainful employment any day of the week. It's so much better than the alternative.

However, the times? they may be a changing. I have a meeting tonight that may well shape the direction of things to come. It's an exciting time here at Jo'T HQ, my friends. The winds of change are picking up. And they're threatening to blow this little house of cards away.

As always, I'll keep you posted, Dear Reader. You'll hear more as soon as I do.

Thanks for reading.

-Jos

"It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change." ~ Charles Darwin

Be Careful What You Ask For...

2006-03-14T08:42:00.000-08:00

Looks like 2006 is the new 1984. The Justice Department is asking Google to turn over a long list of search requests and Web site addresses. Google is saying "no" and the two camps are meeting before a U.S. District Court Judge later today.

This is a touchy subject, as it boils down to a privacy issue. Sure, the great and powerful Net is a useful resource for finding almost any information you could possibly need. However, that's where the problem lies.

It breaks down into two very separate but equal issues: A) It's too easy to access. And in the wrong hands, it can be very dangerous. And B) The public has a right to ensure that their privacy rights are protected.

It's a very gray area, what the DoJ is asking for. Although they claim that they don't want any personal information right now (and I'm sure they don't), who's to say that this won't open the doors for them to come back later and ask for it then.

How much privacy can we expect from a wide open internet with no boundaries? How much government control is too much? Where is the line drawn? And who decides when that line can be broken?

Now, I'm a big advocate of Google and it's fellow search engines, and I'm all for being able to access all I can from them. But I can also relate to the fact that we didn't know the inherent dangers of a world-wide information platform until it was too late to regulate it. And trying to go back now to try to set up those check points is like trying to stop the flood with your hands.

Perhaps it may have worked 10 or 12 years ago, back when the Net was just starting up. But now, it's just too little, too late.

-Jos

"The Internet is so big, so powerful and pointless that for some people it is a complete substitute for life." ~Andrew Brown

The Hero Of Canton

2006-03-13T18:45:00.000-08:00

I had to turn the Jo'T-mobile over to the tech's this weekend to install a new rocket launcher and upgrade to a full hover-conversion. So for the next couple of days, I'll be sporting around town in Dad's little S-10. I had to go all the way to outer-rim Canton to pick it up. And while I didn't see the mudder statute raised to the man they call Jayne, I did get to see a pretty darn good auto swap-meet.

I met up with Dad and K around 11 or so. After a quick bite, we headed over to the 1st Monday campgrounds, where the meet was taking place. They had just about anything you could think of in way of cars, from headlights and overhead cam shafts to full chassis to fuel-injection manifolds. And EVERYTHING in between.

There were tables full of model cars. Tables with nothing but auto tools. Some were covered with tin-metal advertisements while others held glass cases filled with trinkets from days long gone. Dad found an bottle of a soda he used to drink when he was a kid and a parts catalogue from 1960 on. K found some bric-a-brac to decorate the homestead with. I found some old Asian coins dating back to the 15th century, if the dates are to be believed.

And then there were the cars themselves. Everything from your low end (a 1943 International Pick-Up Truck) to the very high end (a cherry 1978 Camero). There were Mustangs and Chevy's and Cobras galore. Even a Mercedes or two. And all ranging in varying degrees of "some assembly required."

All in all, not a bad way to spend a Saturday. Though, I would've rather not sat on 635 for over an hour once I got back, but, then again, nothing says welcome home quite like a traffic jam.

The rest of the weekend went well. Friday night was devoted to my Browncoat brainwashing scheme to take over my pitiful little band of miscreants. And Sunday saw the Apocalypse Queen off to her home galaxy for a few days for some well earned R&R. The group had lunch after church and brought along a visitor to the class. We may have scared her a little bit, what with all our collective mind reading and inside jokes and subtle mockery. Though, she seemed to enjoy herself. We'll see if she comes back.

And last night was spent at Seattle Grace Hospital, with JJ and E taking bets on which patient would check out first, and Goulet and myself having to admit that McDreamy does indeed have some pretty nice hair.

Hope you all are adjusting well, as yet another weekend has come and gone.

-Jos

"To be natural is such a very difficult pose to keep up." ~Oscar Wilde

Feature Friday: Moonlight Mile

2006-03-10T14:24:00.000-08:00

When I was in Jr. High, my buddy James and I were big fans of the TV show My Sister Sam. Not particularly because it was a good show, because...no. We faithfully watched it every week for one very important reason: We were in love with the Sisters Russell. I had a huge crush on Pam Dawber (still do) and James was infatuated with Rebecca Schaeffer.

The show was centered around Schaeffer's Patti Russell, a teenager who moves to San Francisco to live with her big sister, Samantha 'Sam' Russell, played by Dawber.

As I said, the show wasn't exactly M*A*S*H, and quickly went the way of the dodo halfway thru it's 2nd season.

However, most people would not even remember the show at all if not for what happened almost a year after it wrapped. On 18 July, 1989, 21 year old Rebecca Schaeffer was shot to death in her West Hollywood apartment by a deranged fan. Her murder led to the classification of stalking as a felony in California.

At the time of her death, Schaeffer was dating Brad Silberling. He took his own experiences and used them to write and direct the movie Moonlight Mile.

Title: Moonlight Mile
Year: 2002
Director: Brad Silberling
Staring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Dustin Hoffman, Susan Sarandon, Careena Melia, Ellen Pompeo, Holly Hunter

Set in an unnamed town during the mid 1970's, Moonlight Mile opens on the morning of Diana Floss' (Melia) funeral. We meet Joe Nast (Gyllenhaal) and soon learn that he is living with Diana's parents, Ben (Hoffman) and JoJo (Sarandon) and that he and Diana were engaged.

The drive to the funeral is wrought with emotion as the family sees that the world does not stop just because someone you love has passed away. It's painful and profound at the same time.

As time passes we learn that Joe is training to be a real estate agent to work along side Ben. In order for Ben and Joe to get in good terms with the agency, they need to arrange to buy a bar that is sitting in the middle of a property that has already been promised to a wealthy land developer. Ben thinks it would be good for Joe to try to work the sell, in an attempt to keep his mind off the recent tragedy. (We learn that Diana was shot in the town diner, and that the trail of the killer is rapidly approaching.)

As Joe enters the bar to start negotiations, he is met with hostility in the form of the bartender, Ty (Judging Amy's Richard T. Jones). It seems that the bar owner, Cal McGinnis, is MIA in Vietnam, and Ty, is helping running things until he returns. Ty quickly shuts down Joe's attempt to talk real estate, and all but shoves him out the door.

Meanwhile, at the Floss house, JoJo, an accomplished writer, is struggling through her grief in the form of writer's block. She and Ben are barely holding it together, and it's obvious that they view Joe as their last link to their lost daughter.

Joe has the unenviable task of going to the Post Office to retrieve the invitations to a wedding that is never going to happen. While there, he meets Bertie Knox (Pompeo), part time mail clerk and fellow wounded heart.

When Diana's friends show up one night to force Joe to leave the house and try to cheer him up, they end up at Cal's Bar. Joe makes his way over to the jukebox and selects Moonlight Mile, by the Stones. Something strange happens here, as Bertie shows up, from seemingly nowhere, for a dance.

Turns out that Bertie and Cal are involved, and that Moonlight Mile was their song. The bar patrons help her keep Cal alive in her memories by dancing with her to the song.

Joe, not understanding any of this, finds himself in an awkward position. After the dance, he quickly flees, his new feelings for Bertie both intriguing and shameful at the same time. He is torn between is loyalty to the Floss' and the memory of Diana.

To make matters worse, Ben is pressuring Joe to become a partner, while JoJo is slowly disappearing under a mountain of grief oriented self-help books. Also, prosecutor Mona Camp (Hunter) is busy getting everyone prepped for the trial. Plus, Joe is harboring a secret that could destroy all that the family has worked so hard for.

I remember seeing the trailer for this movie in the theater and being interested. And then nothing. It never come out. It wasn't until it came out on DVD was I able to finally watch it. It was worth the wait.

I knew what had happened to Rebecca Schaeffer, but didn't know that Silberling had been her boyfriend. He does a remarkable job here. Showing grief from a truly honest position. I've never seen loss played out quite so convincingly before. The story takes a few turns you don't expect, but then, so does real life.

Jake Gyllenhaal is one of those actors I've had my eye on for some time. His turns as Homer Hickam in October Sky and as the title role in Donnie Darko show just how diverse an actor he can be. His outstanding performances in both this year's Proof and Brokeback Mountain proved he is not just a one hit wonder, but a very capable young actor.

His Joe Nast is not an easy role to play. Joe has layers of grief and sadness built into the emotional wall around him, but he must also show the occasional glimmer of hope of someday coming out the other side. You feel his struggle and his dilemma. He is a young man, forced to decide if he will take up the life he promised to his now deceased girlfriend, without her by his side, or does he strike out on his own, and live his life to the fullest, and leave his surrogate family behind? It's a hard choice, and not one easily, or quickly, made. And Gyllenhaal plays it well.

Dustin Hoffman, in roles like this one, is just marvelous to behold. He truly becomes Ben Floss, so much that you never see him acting. It's all natural. All subtle. All real. His reactions and silences speak volumes and Silberling is wise let him run with it. It's awkward and embarrassing and heartwrenching and honest. Watching this character go through what he has to breaks your heart. And lifts your spirits. They just don't make them like Hoffman anymore.

Nor Susan Sarandon either, for that matter. There's a reason the woman's had 4 Oscar nominations and walked away with a Best Actress statue. She's very good at what she does. And here, she doesn't disappoint. JoJo Floss is a character that could have easily been pushed into the background, and in the hands of another actress, most assuredly would have. But Sarandon takes control and never lets you forget that she's there. Her chemistry with both Hoffman and Gyllenhaal plays quite well. You believe that this woman has lost her child, and the longing - and hunger - in her eyes, that unheard question of "why?" is always visible. Is always brought to the foreground. And you see that she is the glue that holds this family together. JoJo and Ben are one. They complement each other so well, that they have no choice but to overcome this tragedy and move on with their lives. Their very natures provide no other outcome.

Holly Hunter plays Mona Camp, the prosecutor or during the trial in this movie. She doesn't have a large role (she spent most of her time as a producer on the film) but she is always fresh and vibrant on screen. She has a mission, and she's doing her best to make sure that mission is fulfilled.

Ellen Pompeo (Grey's Anatomy's Dr. Meredith Grey) has probably the hardest role to play in the film. She has to play the other woman, but be likable enough not to be the rebound girl. She has to open up just enough to get Joe to notice her without betraying her loyalty to Cal. And she has to play both the strong independent and the fragile damsel. And she has to play it all at the same time. That's very hard to do, and pull off naturally, but Pompeo does it with aplomb. I eagerly look forward to many more films from this talented actress.

I had the misfortune of losing 3 very dear friends during my high school years. I know the cycle of grief and what emotions can do to a person. I can see how the actions taken during those times can be seen and misunderstood from a person on the outside. And I know how devastating a personal loss can be.

Time can cause the pain to dull some, but the ones lost will always be there. In some form or another. People look for answers in the most strangest places. Some find them in religion. Some in outside stimuli. Others find the answers deep within themselves. Most of the time, the answer is never good enough.

We just have to accept that for what it is. Life is not fair. But, the ones we love and lose, will always live on within us. As long as we, in return, just live.

-Jos

"A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own." ~Thomas Mann

Hi Hey Hiya HEEELLLLOOOO

2006-03-09T08:34:00.000-08:00

Short, Brown Hair Guy no here today. Today, me, Sergeant Pepper. Or Pep, as he call me. Or Pepster. Or Peprika. No like Peprika. HAAAATE Peprika! Me no spice! Me Queen. No no no, stupid B&N page, not THAT Queen. This Queen. Yes. Much better.

Anyway, like I say, Short, Brown Hair Guy no here. He gone "work." I use parenthesis here cause I no think he go there. Noone work THAT much. He just no like me. He hate cats. You no believe me? You want proof? Here proof: He no clean litter box every 3 hours like I demand. He no buy bottled water for mine drink. He buy only dry crunch crunch, not smelly can food I only eat 2 bites of. He no cut my claws, EVER! I scratch carpet. He say bad word. I laugh. He friends with cat starver Omar. He friends with weird girl Pamie and her stoopid cats.

You still no believe me? You still think Short, Brown Hair Guy too nice? Here. Read opening of no name story I find on computer:

Sammie McKinney had long held onto the notion that Eric’s Aunt Becca was a witch. When they were kids, Sammie and Eric were fascinated by the way that Becca never cut her hair. They would take turns hiding in the master bedroom and peering through the crack in the bathroom door just to catch a glimpse of that mane of grayish black frizz that hung almost to the floor. Eric was scared that any number of animals could get trapped in there and never find their way out. Sammie, the older of the two by six whole days, was far more mature in her fears in that she couldn’t see how Becca would be able to water ski with all that hair. Not, it had to be mentioned, that they had ever seen Becca water ski. But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that Aunt Becca was short, and pear shaped, and smelled of castor oil. And cackled. The woman actually cackled. A high-pierced combination snort / laugh / cough that could strip the varnish off of a footlocker. It used to scare Eric’s younger cousins so much that they begged not to have to go to her house during Christmas vacation. And who could scare little kids at Christmas, but a witch?

On several occasions Sammie and Eric had searched the entire house for a caldron, an assortment of brooms, shrunken heads, any kind of hard evidence proof of Aunt Becca’s coven. Eric had checked out a book on witches at the library back home, and the first thing that had struck their minds as interesting was that all witches belonged to a coven.

However, the closest thing Becca had even resembling that of a witch, besides a few musty roots in the cellar, was Omar, her mangy, one-eyed, kid hating, and unholy bundle of demon cat.

Omar was anywhere between twelve and one hundred-fifty, depending on whom you asked. The problem was, Eric’s book called for all witches’ cats to be black. Now, Omar may have been young once, say back in the Dark Ages, like nineteen-sixty, but he had never been black. Though, to be honest, neither Sammie nor Eric could tell just what color Omar was. He was at one point orange with brown swirls, and at others yellow with gray streaks. Sammie contributed this to Omar’s complete revolution to water. At the first hint of rain (or in Sammie’s and Eric’s case, the water hose) Omar would shriek like a banshee and tear off toward the house like it’s tail were on fire. Sammie and Eric drew allusions to the Wicked Witch of the West even at their young age.

Still, black cat or no, Sammie held fast to her suspicion of Becca being a witch. It wasn’t the black shawl Becca always wore, even in warm weather. It wasn’t the way Becca always found a way to win at Chicken-Foot. (And what kind of person could always win at a game called Chicken-Foot, if not a witch?) It wasn’t even the fact that no one ever talked about the fate of Eric’s Uncle Phil, like it was some kind of state secret or something. (Eric was convinced that Phil was buried somewhere in the bowels of the cellar of the musty roots.)

See? He HATE cats! Ha! I change name of cat to Omar. Wonder if Short, Brown Hair Guy will notice? Doubt it. Not like he ever finish anything he start.

He supposed to write stories to make money so he can buy me more toys. He lazy. He say computer here too slow. He say he can't write here. Bah! Look at me. I write here, stoopid Short, Brown Hair Guy. You just no understand computer. He no no that I have control switch on back of box. I push button with tail and internet crash. He say bad word. I laugh.

He lazy, I tell you. He say writing hard. He say he miss entry yesterday. He almost cry, ya'll. I try not to laugh. I say stay awake more than 2 hours a day hard. You see me complain? No, you don't. He just no want to make money to buy me toys.

He try to sleep. At night! Stoopid Short, Brown Hair Guy. Night time, MY time. That when we play. That when you write! That when you make us money! TOYS!

Little silver phone make racket last night. He talk to it until after 1 in morning. I no like little silver phone. I knock it off nightstand and under bed. He say bad word. I laugh. And puke in shoe he no wear till weekend. Can't wait to see his face.

He cheet on me, ya'll. I find grey/black hair on his socks. He say Pepper have grey/black hair. I say I no fool. I say I watch CSI. I run DNA sample. I find name. Lucy(ifer), I know you out there. You stay away from Short, Brown Hair Guy. He MY Short, Brown Hair Guy. I find you hair on his sock again, I keel you. Understand?

I go now. Ophra: Behind Show on E! Must watch. Then sleep before he come back.

You no tell him I here, right? I trust you, right? Good. We have understanding.

-Sergeant (Queen) Pepper

"Your cat will never threaten your popularity by barking at three in the morning. He won't attack the mailman or eat the drapes, although he may climb the drapes to see how the room looks from the ceiling." ~Helen Powers (Ha! While you sleep, PAL!)

I Smell A Rat(ner)

2006-03-07T08:39:00.000-08:00

So the new X3 trailer is out.

Many of you know how I feel about 20th Century Fox's decision to rush production on the 3rd (and final) installment of the X-Men franchise. And you how I feel about Brett Ratner.

I've been a fan of the books since I was a kid and felt that any interpretation of them on the big screen would not be able to do them justice. However, that changed when I heard that Bryan Singer was going to take the challenge. With the phenomenal Usual Suspects and a good take on King's Apt Pupil under his belt, I felt confidant that the characters I'd known throughout childhood were in good hands.

And they were. The first film was just great as a set-up for the series. Great casting and well rounded characters that you could bond with quite quickly. The second film built on the first and just kept getting better. Bigger sets, bigger effects budget, bigger production value. Everything was pointing to a wonderful franchise with potential for several future films.

And then real life set in. Singer, upset with having to wait for the green light from the Powers That Be, took a call from DC to come help breathe some life into one of their little icons. The result was that now you had two possible super hero movies coming out during the same year. However, Singer's Superman has a much longer pre-production timeframe and a much more realistic shooting schedule.

And X3 has...Brett Ratner. Now, I give the man grief. Some of it he deserves. Some of it he doesn't.

I don't know where I stand on this one. I want it to be good, but the couple of scripts I've read and most of the production stills I've seen haven't looked too promising. But, this trailer looks good. Really good. And even though I know the fate of a couple of the major characters (which I hate) and know the relationship the movie revolves around (the completely wrong direction, if you ask me) I still think a respectable director could pull this off.

This trailer looks good. Moriarty said that it reminds him of the Terminator movies, and I agree with him. This, too, is "a third film made by someone other than the person who kickstarted a franchise." Now, I'm a fan of T3, and think it fit well into the world created by Cameron. But, Mostow had the time and support to make the movie he wanted. I'm not sure how much of X3 is Ratner's and how much is the studio's. And even if a lot is Ratner's, it's still...Ratner's.

Things are going well here at Jo'T HQ. The Everwood spec-script is coming together, I'm starting some pencil break-downs for a couple of submissions, and I'm slowly converting my inner circle into Browncoats. Life is good at the moment.

Oh, and be sure to give Blondie some good thoughts today around 11. She's having shoulder surgery to remove the growth and clean up the calcium deposits and bone chips. She'll be out of commission for a week or so, but it will be mostly over Spring Break.

Thanks for stopping by. Get back to work.

-Jos

"Morality is simply the attitude we adopt towards people whom we personally dislike." ~Oscar Wilde

My Award Show Has A First Name...

2006-03-06T10:15:00.000-08:00

And so another award season has come to pass.

I found last night's Oscars to be rather dull. No real breakthroughs or statue monopolies of Lord of the Rings fame. Jon Stewart was charming and witty, though I think he toned it way down. Which was my feel of the whole ceremony. Just no one looked to having a good time, save for Cloones. And with JJ and E pining away from both sides, it was hard to keep from wanting to smack the smirk off his handsome, handsome face.

For the most part, I'm satisfied of the results:

Supporting Actor: George Clooney - Pretty Boy came through something fierce this year with some brilliant acting and directing. Good for him to be recognized (and rewarded) for it.

Visual Effects: KING KONG - Outstanding work form my favorite Kiwis! Tika hoki, Weta!

Best Animated Feature: WALLACE & GROMIT IN THE CURSE OF THE WERE-RABBIT - Park & Box knocked another one out of the park. Good work, guys.

Supporting Actress: Rachel Weisz - Well deserved! Great performance and a gracious acceptance. I look forward to what she peruses after motherhood.

Best Actor: Philip Seymour Hoffman - A fine actor with a remarkable resume. Not exactly a chameleon in the vein of Dreyfuss or (the other) Hoffman, but a solid actor with a very wide range.

Best Actress: Reese Witherspoon - She's just so cute! Genuine and sincere. If Joaquin wasn't able to take home a statute for this movie, I'm glad the Blonde one could.

Adapted Screenplay: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN - Haven't read the short story yet (it's on my stack of paperbacks in my den, just waiting) but I loved the screenplay. The movie got a lot of attention and controversy because of the gender of the principles, but the story underneath was real and heartbreaking. Just like real life. If people could turn off their prejudices for a little while and see the spirit of the film, I think they would be able to see this for what it is: A true, modern day love story.

Best Director: Ang Lee - Thank you, Mr. Lee. Beautiful scope. Wonderful story. Great acting. And the balls to pull it off. Well done.

Best Motion Picture of the Year: CRASH - A little overrated in my opinion. A little too on the nose. Playing the racism card simply for the sake of playing it. Fine acting. Excellent cast. Good story that could have been great, but it just wasn't.

I'm upset over Bana and Munich getting snubbed this year. It really was the most powerful film I saw this season. And Cinderella Man was outstanding as well.

But, like Stewart himself said: Martin Scorsese 0 Oscars, 3 6 Mafia - 1

So, there is that.

-Jos

"I sometimes marvel at the extraordinary docility with which Americans submit to speeches." ~Adlai E. Stevenson

Feature Friday: Dark City

2006-03-03T14:22:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned yesterday, I spend a lot of hours here at Jo'T HQ. There are many a day where it is dark when I arrive, and dark again by the time I leave. Three days this week alone, I didn't even get to break for lunch. And, as I my office has no windows, I never saw that large bright disk in the sky.

But what if it wasn't just me being inside during the day? What if there were no day? What if you couldn't remember the last time you saw the sun? And what if your memories of the past were nothing more than a scrapbook collection of the memories of a thousand other people?

Title: Dark City
Year: 1998
Director: Alex Proyas
Staring: Rufus Sewell, William Hurt, Kiefer Sutherland, Jennifer Connelly, Richard O'Brien, Ian Richardson, Bruce Spence

Welcome to the birth of John Murdoch (Sewell). He awakens in the bathtub of a rundown hotel in the bad part of town. He has no memory of how he got there, or why. All he knows is that he's naked and bleeding. Oh, and there's a dead girl in the bedroom, and he has a knife with him.

He receives a telephone call from the mysterious Dr. Daniel Schreber (Sutherland). Murdoch is informed that he being chased by "The Strangers," who, we are told via voiceover, are members of a dying, extraterrestrial race, searching for a cure of their own mortality. The Strangers feel that the key to prolonged life is imbedded within the human essence. They can alter the fabric of reality, using an extrasensory ability called 'tuning,' and traipse the nocturnal streets looking to conduct their nefarious experiments upon the sleeping city.

In Murdoch's first encounter with The Strangers, he finds that he, too, can 'tune,' leading to the death of one of his opponents. Armed with this knowledge, plus a memory of "Shell Beach," a summer vacation destination from his childhood, Murdoch tries to make his way back to the life he remembers. He believes he can do this by finding his wife, Emma (Connelly).

However, the dead girl in the hotel has been discovered, and all the evidence points to the "Street Walker Killer," whom the police now think is Murdoch. Inspector Frank Bumstead (Hurt), is assigned to track down Murdoch, and bring him to justice.

With the help of Emma, and the reluctant aid of Bumstead and Schreber, Murdoch eventually comes face to face with Mr. Hand (O'Brien), the lead Stranger who set the whole series of events in motion. But, it does not end there, as Murdoch and Bumstead discover the truth and must confront the entire race of Strangers, and their powerful leader, Mr. Book (Richardson).

I first heard about this movie when I read an article about it in the paper the day it opened. (Ah, the newspaper. Remember them? Back before we got all of our news via the web? I can't remember the last time I actually read one.) Anyway, I recalled no promotional advertising for this film at all. No trailers, no TV ads, no reviews. Nothing at all. Now, 99.9% of the time, this is the movie studio's way of disavowing any knowledge of a movie they want no part of. And, 99.9% of the time, it's well deserved.

However, Dark City is that magical .1% anomaly. Much like Murdoch himself. Rich in existentialist philosophy and a dark 40's and 50's film noir feel, with a nod to Serling, Heinlein, and even Hitchcock, Dark City actually pulls off the near impossible: A sci-fi movie with more substance underneath than on the surface. A movie that brings into focus the role of memory in shaping one's identity and the perception of reality. And it does it very well.

Director Alex Proyas, who also helped write the screenplay, really knows how to use subtext as almost another character, and how to ground the fantastical with the practical. Much like he did with The Crow, but on a much broader scale. The scope is bigger, and so is the playing field. And Proyas makes it look easy.

Rufus Sewell should be the next James Bond. He's roguish and tough. Dashing and broody. Deadly and quiet. He can convey pages of dialogue with the minimalist of expressions. Oh, and Win informed me that he is hella-cute. So, I guess that helps too. His John Murdoch is a man of mystery. But not just to the other characters in the movie. Or even to the audience. Murdoch is a mystery to himself. And Sewell uses that to his advantage. You can see him mentally questioning himself before he acts. That "is this something I would really do?" aspect you rarely see of someone playing an amnesiac character. You see him actually surprise himself. It's a treasure of a role, because you are free to go anywhere with the character. To be as over the top as you please. To literally become the person you always wanted to be, because there is no one who actually remembers the "real" you to contradict it. And Sewell does it with such aplomb, with such restraint, that he always seems natural. Very well done.

Now, I'm a big fan of William Hurt. He is one of a handful of actors who I can let go of reality and completely believe anything they tell me while on screen. He wears a level of authority and credibility around himself like a cloak. He's a actor from whom I take what they say at face value. I like the fact that his Frank Bumstead is not a finished character in the movie. He is made up of bits and pieces of the idea of what he should be. But the most astounding thing, is that Bumstead sees it himself. As the story unfolds, and he discovers his role in the scheme of things, he comes to understand himself completely for the first time. It wonderful and terrifying at the same time, realizing (and accepting) that you really are just a bit part in
the big picture. That you really are just an extra in someone else's life, with no story of your own. Hurt does an incredible job at conveying Bumstead's reaction to this, and in the hands of a lesser actor, it could have fallen flat.

And what film noir would be worth its weight in salt without a Siren? And who better for the role than Jennifer Connelly? She is quite simply one of the most beautiful women on the planet. She has an elegance and a poise that oozes sexuality and the acting chops to back up anything she's saying. Her Emma Murdoch is a torch singer in the film, and boy, does she portray that to a tee. However, she also gets to play the deceived, helpless innocent as well. The wife who has no idea who the man she married really is. Her memories, too, have been altered, reshaped, to conform to the current state of reality. But, like Bumstead, and, to some extent, even Murdoch, she is not whole. She knows she loves this man. Also, that she is afraid of him. She just doesn't know why.

Ah, Kiefer. This was back long before Jack Bauer became a household name. Back when the Kief was just starting to break out of the pigeonholed roles he created for himself, playing little, one-note characters trapped in little, one-note movies, which just happened to also star his father. Kiefer brings to Dr. Daniel Schreber a sinister edge that I'm sure the original character did not possess. Schreber is the cowardly traitor who actually thinks he's repenting for his sins. The Strangers use his expertise to rebuild the memories used in their experiments, but he had to voluntarily erase his own. Though he thinks he's doing the right thing by helping Murdoch, he fails to see that things would have turned out pretty much the same way he not intervened at all. Nor does he grasp that he is not, in fact, helping The Strangers, he is only prolonging the inevitable. Here again is a character who thinks he plays a larger role than was written for him. However, in Schreber's case, there was never a "real" person there to begin with. And because he traded his soul for his freedom, the character never gets to redeem himself, because there is nothing left to redeem. It's a juicy role, one with many layers, and one that Sutherland was born to play.

The Strangers themselves are almost the Mcguffin of the film. They are there to serve as the architects of the story, but with little more authority than the subjects they test. They are powerful, to be sure, but they have no conscience to abuse that power, because they have no conscience themselves. Before the experiments, they were merely drones, and after all is said and done, drones they still are. It's not until Mr. Hand decides to break with the experiment, and try to become this anomaly called Man, do they sense the true corruption that absolute power can bring.

Richard O'Brien brings a fresh face to an old evil, but in the end, it's the idea of Mr. Hand that is more dangerous than the character himself. Ian Richardson has some nice moments as Mr. Book, as well, especially when he keeps to the shadows and plays the overlord with his hands on the puppet strings. However, once we get into the 3rd act, it's hard to live up to the expectations of the previous 2. The Strangers had potential, but in the end, the action card was played a little too aggressively, when we may have wanted more complementation and a better sense of closure.

Regardless, this is a great movie that makes you think every time you watch it. It handles very well the concept that we are not just the sum parts of our memories. That who we are (or, who we THINK we are) is not as important as the actions we take. Am I me because of who I am, or because of who I remember myself to be? And in a sci-fi, no less…

Sorry this is coming out so late in the day, we're a little backed up here. Which is good. Much better than the alternative.

Have a great weekend. See you next time.

-Jos

"Man is the only creature that refuses to be what he is." ~Albert Camus

In Memoriam

2006-03-02T09:14:00.000-08:00

Things are dark and quiet here at Jo't Headquarters. Just the way I like them.

It's been a long running joke among my friends and family about the amount of hours I spend at work. So long, in fact, that it's starting to get funny again.

It's not just my unwarranted loyalty that, at times, seems to reach near mythical proportions. Nor is it the fact that my batteries need only the barest of time to recharge during the waning, nocturnal hours. It's not even that I'm a 3rd generation, stead fast, Republican Poster Child Workaholic. (Though, that answers so many questions, doesn't it?)

No, it's that my mind never turns off. It never rests. You see, whenever I'm not concentrating on a present task, or a project to fill the immediate future, that big movie theater in my head starts playing "The Jos Years: Day One thru 5 Seconds Ago." And we're talking full THX surround sound and HD quality picture here.

I remember EVERYTHING. No, really. I remember I wore a dark red and blue striped shirt with corduroys to my first day of Kindergarten. And yeah, while I may have seen pictures of that day, I can also tell you that Lori and Denise Whaley wore matching white cotton sundresses with yellow flowers on them. Lori with a blue barrette. Denise with a red one. Jason Smith wore a green polo and jeans. Foster Lott a Dallas Coyboys tee shirt. Mrs. Robertson wore a white, silk blouse with a teal scarf, and a navy skirt.

Just. Shoot. Me.

And, it's not just clothes. It's addresses. Phone numbers. Work shifts of the first job of that cousin I haven't seen in 12 years. Obscure movie quotes. Entire Shakespeare sonnets. Songs that were playing in a car passing by as I rode to school on my Huffy. (Come on, admit it. You had a Huffy. Fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy.) Jingles. TV theme songs. Dear, God! The TV theme songs. Would someone PLEASE tell me how to excavate "Green Acers" from my head!?! (JJ, "Black Hole Sun" works in the short term, but GA just keeps coming back!)

Conversations. Yeah, all those long talks that took place just sitting in the front seat outside a cafe or dinner, watching traffic through the windshield. Arguments that served no purpose other than to prove just how stupid I can be at times. Everything I said that I wish I could have taken back the moment they came out.

Everything. In a continual loop. Over and over again, ad nauseam.

Know how many times I've heard the old "Don't beat yourself up" bit? Yeah, well, if I knew how to shut it all down, I would. If I knew why I was supposed to remember that the combination to my locker in 6th grade was 34-25-7, that "Brass Monkey" was the first song to play at our 8th grade "prom", and that Luke uses his left hand to throw the rock to bring down the door to kill the Rancor in Jedi, well, maybe I could make it go away.

But should I? Would you? Isn't it our past, and how we react to that past, that makes us who we are? Who would I be if I no longer had those memories to pull from. I'm a big fan of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The story is about a man who suffers a bitter break up, and undergoes a procedure to erase the memories of the other person from his mind. However, during the process, he realizes that in order to lose the bad memories, he must also lose the good. It's quite a good story that makes you sit and think long afterwards.

I've had my share of troubles. But, I think the good times more than outweigh the bad. And even if that's not entirely accurate, at least I'm striving now to make it so.

Well, gee (No, G.T.E.). Went a little deep on you there. Sorry. I just need to vent sometimes, and this is my outlet.

But still, if I could maybe turn the memories down from 11 to...9 possibly? You know, I hear alcohol helps sometimes...

Thanks for stopping by. Get back to work.

-Jos

"It's surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time." ~Barbara Kingsolver

20/20 Hindsight, And Other Myths

2006-03-01T08:06:00.000-08:00

So, Blondie and I were talking the other day about the current status of our lives, about how things rarely - if ever - turn out the way we plan them. We talked about how she and Pops regretted not pushing me to study harder when I was younger. How they were scared that I was so adamant about going to art school, that I refused to apply myself to anything else. How they feared I would rebel against them if they put their foot down.

About how they were afraid that if they didn't let me take that risk (something I'm not that good at) that I may never take another one.

And, I'm afraid that they were right. I have a hard time taking risks, or standing up for myself, or trying to live outside the boundaries that others have set up for me. I usually back down from every argument, form every accusation, so as to save face, or worse, to have people think better of me.

It's something that I'm constantly working on. That understanding that people will like me for me. Not for the idea of me. A radical concept, I know. But one that's taken a long time for me to embrace.

No worries, I'm getting there. I took the advice of a good friend this week, and I think things are going to get better. It just takes patience time. And what has an immortal, if not patience and time?

Today is unseasonably warm, and ushers in a new month. A month that brings with it a couple of birthdays and an anniversary I'd just as well not remember.

It's already the 3rd month of 2006, people. And I guess I'm a little behind on those new years resolutions. Well, that ends today. From here on out, I'm striving to push myself to work harder to live the life I want to live. To renew my enthusiasm on the spec-script. To break out the pencils and get some sketches and submissions ready for the April DCC. To be more aggressive about the things I want. And to accept the fact that I may not always get them.

Now all I need is some accountability...

Enjoy the record breaking 90 degree day, Dallas. Just don't get sick when it cools off and brings in the rain this weekend.

-Jos

"You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith." ~Mary Manin Morrissey

There She Goes…

2006-02-28T06:01:00.000-08:00

There she goes, again.

Y2K didn’t exactly go very well for me. Over the span of 12 months, I lost 5% of the hearing in my left ear, 2 jobs, a grandmother, and a fiancée.

Yeah, needless to say, the new millennium was not my finest hour.

However, I was lucky in that I had a couple of friends to see me through. One in particular, Malia, is celebrating a birthday today. She and The Farm Boy helped me pick up the pieces of my fractured soul and start feeling human again.

She claims we first met while I was recovering from my ear surgery, but I don’t remember meeting her until I was fully ensconced within the 96-Hour Clause. To quote, uh, myself:

"Whenever you break up with someone, you evoke the Clause. Think of it as…temporary insanity. You can’t be held responsible for anything you say or do during that time. And everything starts to get better afterwards."

You see, my first memories of this girl are of throwing a softball bat at her head. Hey! Don’t look at me in tone of voice. It slipped. It did. Really.

I can only imagine what she must have been thinking. Here was this guy with cheesy N-Sync-esque blonde highlights hurling a large, heavy object at her. Lucky for me, she didn’t take offense. Actually, it just seemed to bond us quite early on. Had I only known…

Malia (much like the Apocalypse Queen, Lady Steph, and JJ) is of that rare species who can look right through my defensive shields and see the real me I try to keep hidden from the world at large. I guess she liked what she saw, because she decided to stick around. If she hadn’t, I shudder to think where I’d be right now.

Many a summer night were spent on the curb outside a restaurant or movie theater or RedRoc’s house, just talking and listening. Of endless discussions of fate and God and the human condition. Of worthiness and esteem and all the little things that keep us going day in and day out.

We hid in plain sight as members of a youth group Human Scavenger Hunt, shot a trailer for a movie that didn’t exist, and stared in a Britney Spears video. We hung out in Jerry McGuire’s kitchen and jumped off the roof of the Heights Baptist Church. We danced in the fountain from the Friends opening credits, and earned our own table at IHOP.

She tried to convert me in the ways of coffee and I taught her to flip a guy three times her size over her shoulder. She abandoned me one night with a person she knew I shouldn’t have been with, and I helped her write the script for a "casual" phone call that ended just as badly.

I helped her move four times in three months, ragged her about her inability to pronounce simple words like "Sprite" and "Bagel," and marveled at her idea of proper fiber intake ("Eat the tree!!") She and I christened Eve with a meteor shower and gave Speedy a run for his money at the UTD track. We made declarations at a pool party once and suffered the consequences as they both came true. She has kept me entertained with stories from her past ("Let me in! Let me in! Let me out! Let me out!") and she has a very nice shoe.

I’ve had to track down movies on VHS (from Canada, no less) because she was too proud to buy a DVD player, have supplied canned food items in lieu of free-weights for her to curl, and got her and her boy in to see Episode 2 with the cast and crew, as well as that coveted Boba Fett autograph.

She sat on my couch and did laundry with Blondie, watching (and explaining) Fight Club, while I was out on job interviews. She understands the Pep’s attraction to Bitter Apple and can quote Young Frankenstein line for line. We’ve both loved and lost, and laughed and cried, and have climbed and fallen. And, we’re still here.

She married the boy of her dreams (quite literally) a couple of years ago, and is very happy, despite not having that X-Terra just yet.

She is one of my best friends, and I will always be thankful for knowing her.

Happy Birthday, Supergirl. Just remember, no matter how old you get, I’ll always be…younger.

As will your husband, ya cradle-robber…

Love ya!
-Spidey

"A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age." ~Robert Frost

The Clearing At The End Of The Path

2006-02-27T07:57:00.000-08:00

Good night, Old Man. Darren McGavin is gone. Best known as Ralphie's Dad in A Christmas Story, McGavin's charm and charisma made him as popular a yuletide figure as George Bailey. I first knew him as Gus Sands, Kim Basinger's boyfriend with the "eye that sees all," from The Natural. He had over 170 roles in both television and the silver screen. He was 84.

The Shakiest Gun in the West has made his last draw. Don Knotts was more than an actor, or even a person. To me, he IS my childhood. From Henry Limpet to Luther Heggs, from Ralph Furley to, yes, Barney Fife, Mr. Knotts will always be the person I think of whenever I get nostalgic for the more simple times of yesteryear. He was 81.

(Edited to add)

Just found out that Dennis Weaver has also left us. I still remember vividly watching him on Gunsmoke and Dr. Kildare reruns. His turn as Sam McCloud was another of those role models I looked up to. But, it was probably his David Mann, in Spielberg's Duel, that I'll always know him for. He was 82.

Good Morrow, Gentlemen. May your days always be bright, and your nights be warm.

"We understand death for the first time when he puts his hand upon one whom we love." ~Madame de Stael

Feature Friday: Sliding Doors

2006-02-24T11:21:00.000-08:00

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Every day, we make hundreds of decisions that dictate the outcome of that day. More often than not, we are never aware of what would happen had we made a different decision.

What if we had chosen not to take Central that night, had not gotten caught in the gridlock there, made it to the restaurant early instead of late, and ended up meeting the person that could change your life forever?

Or, how about if we had not decided to wait on the coffee maker for an extra two minutes for that fresh cup and had been 3 people ahead in line and had bought the winning $240 Million Lotto Ticket?

Or, what if we had just been 30 seconds earlier, and had caught that train?

Title: Sliding Doors
Year: 1998
Director: Peter Howitt
Staring: Gwyneth Paltrow, John Hannah, John Lynch, Zara Turner, Douglas McFerran, Paul Brightwell, Jeanne Tripplehorn

It's been a bad day for Helen Quilley (Paltrow). Her birthday was over the weekend, and she and her friends partied a little too much, so she's running late, as usual; her live-in, unemployed, writer boyfriend (Lynch) gets to sleep in; and when she gets to her public relations job, she finds herself let go because she helped herself to four bottles of company vodka the Friday before, leaving none for the V.I.P.'s who stopped by the office on Saturday night.

Oh, and the boyfriend's cheating on her, in her bed. Only she doesn't know this...yet.

A devastated Helen stumbles her way to the train station, has to maneuver around a little girl, and just misses the train. Then, the movie makes a unique turn. We get to see time rewind itself to the point of Helen running the stairs, just as before, only this time the little girl's mother pulls her aside, allowing Helen to catch the train just the doors are sliding shut.

From here on out, we see Helen's life as both versions of reality play out. In Version A, Helen misses her train and has to settle on a taxi ride instead. Just before she gets in, a young man tries to steal her purse, resulting in a nasty bump and cut on her forehead. Stuck at the hospital all afternoon, she gets home just minutes after Lydia (Tripplehorn), Gerry's American ex-girlfriend leaves the apartment. Still having to support both herself and Gerry, Helen takes on two jobs to make ends meet, grows ever weary of Gerry's behavior, and must come to terms about becoming pregnant.

In Version B, Helen does make the train, where she takes a seat next to charming James (Hannah). After finding out about her being fired, James helps to cheer her up. Finally able to smile after her troublesome morning, Helen returns home to catch Gerry and Lydia in the act. Furious and heartbroken, she makes her way to the local pub, where she runs into James and his friend Clive (Brightwell). Later that night, when Helen's best friend Anna (Turner) arrives to take her home, James offers the two a ride. Over the course of a few weeks, with Anna's and James' help, Helen heals and takes her life back, changing her appearance and setting up a new outlook for herself. She finds herself falling for James, despite not wanting too. But James is harboring a secret that may destroy all the groundwork Helen has made thus far.

I don't know about you, but I love movies that make you think. It's rare that I find one with great writing, great acting, and a premise that sparks in-depth conversation afterwards. That, plus I'm a sucker for an good accent (preferably New Zealand or Australian, but English will do in a pinch).

This was 1998, and Gwyneth Paltrow was following up her acclaimed 1996 performance in Emma. It was shortly before her Oscar win, and long before the produce came into the picture. No, this was back when most people only knew Gwyneth because she and Brad had just split.

I find that I like most of her roles. And, while I don't think she deserved Best Actress for Shakespeare In Love, I did enjoy her performance quite a bit. Same here. She gives Helen a quirkiness and real world quality that you instantly bond with. You know this girl, or someone a lot like her. She gets to play the full spectrum of emotions and you generally feel for her and want things to turn out right for her. As well you should. The movie IS about her, after all.

Scottish actor John Hannah is wonderful in this film. Though known to a few from Four Weddings and a Funereal, most American audiences didn't discover him until his turn in 1998's The Mummy. Hannah brings a fresh face to the leading man staple, and he wins you over with his boyish charm. He's funny and real, a good combination to have in an actor. However, Hannah knows when to tune it down a couple of notches, so as to come off as natural, and not acting. Wonderful performance. I'd like to see more from him.

What love story would be complete without "the other woman?" Jeanne Tripplehorn is a delight. Her Lydia has a difficult role to play. She is the ex-girlfriend recently returned to get her man back. But she can't help but check out the competition. Her character really doesn't have much of an arc in the movie, so Tripplehorn plays every scene as far as she wants, awesomely taking her performance over the top and dragging poor John Lynch along with her.

And speaking of Lynch, his Gerry is my least favorite in in the movie. I'm not sure if he wasn't well written, or if Lynch just wasn't on par with everyone else around him. You never once feel anything but seething hatred toward him. I can understand this, he IS the bad guy here, but I never saw any reason why Helen was with him in the first place. I think it would have helped to have seen some of what she thought was so great about him, so that his betrayal would have that much more impact.

Rounding out the cast are the best mates to Helen and Gerry, Anna and Russell, respectively. Zara Turner plays the typical best friend to Helen and has some wonderful lines at Lynch's expense. She's tough and strong and hates to see her friend hurt. She's the type of person you like to have on speed-dial whenever life takes a turn you weren't expecting. And Douglas McFerran is that one college buddy we all still have. The one who tries to be the voice of reason, but only after you've already done the wrong thing. And he can't help but find the humor in said situation. McFerran has fun with his role, and does his best to be Gerry's conscience; but without much help from Lynch, the character of Russell comes off as very one note. Still, it's fun to laugh right along with him.

This is one of those great little movies to watch when it's cold and rainy outside. Curl up on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and let the story play out in front of you. And, if when it's over, you want to play What If? and rethink a couple of your decisions? Just remember, choose wisely.

-Jos

"Choices are the hinges of destiny." ~Edwin Markham

Enter Sandman

2006-02-23T07:44:00.000-08:00

So, it looks like I may have figured out a way to get past that snag in the Everwood script I mentioned yesterday. And, it came to me during one of my dreams last night. It's a pretty radical solution, one not associated with EW, or even on the WB for that matter, well, except for Smallville generally and Supernatural specifically, but, NEVER on Everwood. (As Jane says, if you can write a spec that can cross into other shows, then give it a shot) It ends the episode in a direction I hadn't really imagined, and makes me want to see the next episode.

Kind of cool, when the story starts to write itself.

Other than that, not much more to report. Haven't received the latest version of Chase's movie script, so I can't start working up the storyboards yet; finally back on track with the spec-script; and trying to get some work projects off my desk.

All in all, just your typical Thursday.

-Jos

"Dreams are illustrations... from the book your soul is writing about you." ~Marsha Norman

Wistful Wednesday

2006-02-22T07:52:00.000-08:00

Yeah, the fog came in on little cat feet, alright. And left it's muddy paw-prints all over my hood and windshield. No, it wasn't the Pep. She knows better, the ungrateful little minx. Besides, she's an indoor cat. No, there are lots of strays around the apartment. They're cute and all, but damn...

Anyway, on the way to meet up with Chase last night, I was treated to an amazing sight. I tend to stick to the back roads and found myself alone in the fog with only the gauzy halos of the intermittent street lights to guide my way. I don't usually like driving at night, but there was an ethereal quality of seeing the lights of the city only in fragments as I passed in and out of the translucent patches. Very haunting, but in a good way.

The trip was made even more poignant by the soundtrack, Omar's Terribly Happy Mix '05. At the point I realized I was alone on the road, Bjork's So Broken started playing. The Spanish guitar and her troubled voice added to the melancholy mood I was in and made the drive that much more memorable. Also of note on the Mix is Stay With You, by John Legend, and The High Road, by Betty LaVette, both slow and packed with feeling. But nowhere near as powerful as House On Fire, by the DM's. Al's haunting, soulful vocals really move the song and sits heavy with your emotions. That feeling quadruples when you learn that Chris and hers house did burn down a couple of years ago, taking everything they owned, even their dog. It's strong stuff. Seriously, go buy a copy of the CD. You won't be sorry.

The meeting with Chase went well. I like his movie idea and I think this is going to be a lot of fun. I may have signed on to do too much, but, alas, what else is new? I am concerned about taking time away from the Everwood spec-script, and that promise to myself to make more down time, but I think this is a worthy cause. And I always give 110% to every project I'm working on, so yeah. I'll be starting the storyboards soon. I'll try to post a few of them, if I can. We'll see.

I've hit a snag on the script, and need to devote some time to work on it. This always happens, as AJ can attest to. I finally get to a point where I stop writing the story in my head, and start putting it down on paper, when the 16 other stories running around in my subconscious start demanding my attention. I just need to force myself to finish the project I've committed to, and, once that's finished, then I can move on to the next. Ugh. Just need some accountability. Not to worry. All will turn out well in the end. You'll see.

That's enough for today. Go back to your lives.

-Jos

"Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task." ~William James

What A Difference A Day Makes.

2006-02-21T08:27:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling much better today. Yeah, thanks for not asking. A couple of muscle relaxers, a few chapters of the adventures of Benjamin Weaver, and "poor" (read: stoned) Bode Miller still without a medal makes Jos a happy boy. Seriously, can't we, like, GIVE Miller to another country or something? France, maybe? At least pull his Nike endorsements. He so does NOT need to be the face of the US Olympics.

So, I finally broke down and took a couple of meds last night for my neck and shoulder. I had a few pills left over from when I broke my ankle a couple of years ago. They make the pain go bye-bye. Sorry, Chase, if our conversation last night was a little slurred. My side of it made sense, in any case. I...er...uh oh. See? This is why I don't usually do pain pills. Well, we'll have to see about this one, won't we?

Anyway, Chase and I are meeting tonight to work on some storyboards for a student film he's producing. It sounds like a lot of fun, and gives me an excuse to bust out with the pencils again. Been a long time. If all goes well, maybe the Muses will leave the Apocalypse Queen and come back to me, and I'll be inspired to submit something to the Allied ArtBlog. There's a picture in my head that I need to put on paper, if only to appease the obscure movie quotes, totally useless trivia and the combined voices of Chloe Sullivan, Veronica Mars, Lorelai Gilmore and Alyson Michaels (and Delia Brown, of course), if only to give them more room to duke it out. Scary place, my head. Best to avoid it, if at all possible.

I suppose I should get back to work before those two VIOXX I took this morning finally kick in, and I..........ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

"I think my favorite sport in the Olympics is the one in which you make your way through the snow, you stop, you shoot a gun, and then you continue on. In most of the world, it is known as the biathlon, except in New York City, where it is known as winter." ~Michael Ventre

Monday Musings

2006-02-20T07:35:00.000-08:00

Well, things are finally slowing down over here at Jo'T HQ. We're not dead, mind you, but I can actually see my desk for the first time in weeks, so there is that.

My daily pre-dawn trimmer in the Force has decided to take things up a notch: In a bold move, the cold weather of late has elected to sign a merger with the little pixie demons currently residing inside my right shoulder blade, mining for ore and playing the nerve-endings there like an Eric Clapton and Eddie Van Halen Battle of the Bands Playoff Superstar Spectacular (And, it's drunken, happy Eddie; not sober, bitter Eddie, so yeah). The entire right side of my upper torso and neck is so stiff, I can barely move. And falling asleep on the couch yesterday didn't help much. I can't turn my head to the right at all. I have to turn my whole chest and keep my head and neck perfectly still. I feel like Keaton in the first Batman. Only without the rubber molded pecs...

(Edited 2-21 to read 'Keaton', not 'Keating'. Thanks, JJ)

Other than that, the weekend was pretty worthless. The cold and sleet and ice made going anywhere a bad idea and made getting back home that much more interesting as you got to play Pole Position to avoid all the wrecks along the way.

The gang went and played Whirly-Ball Saturday night. Yeah, somewhere out there, someone said: "I'd like to combine the life and death realism of bumper cars and the playing field of basketball using only the tools of that game on the opening of Miami Vice where the guy had the scoop on his hand." Brilliant!

Still, much fun was had.

Also, it seems like my weekends are turning into Hitchcock viewing opportunities. Sunday morning, awake despite a double shot of NyQuil, Encore Mystery was showing Rope. Now, I probably haven't seen Rope in almost two decades. I knew I enjoyed the story (two young men pull off the "perfect murder" only to be foiled by their former Housemaster-Hitchcock's go-to guy, Jimmy Stewart), however, I'd forgotten that the whole movie is essentially a 1-er, one continuous take with no editing or cutting. Hitch accomplished this by shooting 10 minute segments and splicing them together by having a person walk in front of the camera to hide the cut. This process allows the whole movie to play out in real time. Very impressive.

The roads are still a little icy, so be careful out there (Cue the Hill Street Blues theme music). Thanks for stopping by.

-Jos

"Tell a man there are 300 billion stars in the universe and he'll believe you. Tell him a bench has wet paint on it and he'll have to touch it to be sure." ~Murphy's Law

Feature Friday: Iron Giant

2006-02-17T00:28:00.000-08:00

The fall of 1999 was an exciting time in my life. I was quickly adjusting to a new job, had just recently moved into the apartment I still currently reside, and was making preparations for a wedding that would never come to pass. Oh, and the end of the world was neigh, as Y2K was only a couple months away. Ah, the good old days. :)

It was around this time that my college buds and I started getting anxious about an animated movie about to be released. There had been a buzz for several months about a guy named Brad Bird and how his new film, The Iron Giant, was going to blow everyone away. Reports were coming in saying that this was going to be as big as Star Wars. We were skeptical, of course. But nothing was going to keep us from seeing it. The reports were not wrong. The movie was everything it was hyped to be. An instant classic in the making. A little film with a big heart. Too bad no one saw it.

Title: The Iron Giant
Year: 1999
Director: Brad Bird
Staring (voice): Jennifer Aniston, Harry Connick Jr., Vin Diesel, James Gammon, Cloris Leachman, Christopher McDonald, John Mahoney, Eli Marienthal, M. Emmet Walsh

It's 1958. 14 year old Bobby Fisher has won the US Chess Championship, there is a Chinese Civil War, Russia's "spy" satellite, Sputnik, has fallen back to Earth, keeping the Cold War efficiently cool, and a 50 foot tall extraterrestrial alien robot has crash-landed in the woods behind 9 year old Hogarth Hughes' house.

Sounds like an old black & white movie just begging to be ripped apart by the MST3K guys, doesn't it? Well, you'd be wrong. Set in a small seaside town in northern Maine, The Iron Giant is more akin to a coming of age story than a cheesy sci-fi flick. The town has that Norman Rockwell Americana feel about. Think of it as "A Boy and His Dog." Only, with "Robot" instead of "Dog," and you get the idea.

Hogarth (Marienthal) is a young boy who lives with his waitress mother. Hogarth's Dad is never mentioned, nor even seen (except for a brief photo in Hogarth's room), so it's up to Annie (Aniston) to be both Mother and Father. This can be tiring, as Hogarth's imagination sometimes gets the better of him. Plus, he's a 9 year old boy. Trouble just has a way of latching onto him. So, when he overhears a fisherman's tale of an alien monster that crashed his boat the night before, Hogarth can't resist taking up the chase.

Early on in the film, we discover that Hogarth doesn't have that many friends, so when he stumbles across tall, dark, and Diesel, the bond between them is that much stronger. Due to his injuries sustained in crash-landing, the Giant has lost his basic logic circuits, and his original programming. When Hogarth finds him, he's a blank slate, waiting for new orders. At first, Hogarth can't believe his luck. Imagine, his own personal 50 foot robot! The possibilities are endless.

However, the sleepy little town doesn't have one stranger in it's mists; it has two. Enter Kent Mansley (McDonald), government agent, and a McCarthy-era trained, Red Scare fearing, full blown conspiracy theorist. To say he harbors nothing but contemptment for the "visitor," is an understatement. Mansley's paranoia and unnerving ability to be in the right place at the most unfortunate times, make him the ultimate wrench in Hogarth's plans. Maneley could have been completely over the top for the comic responses alone, but Bird was smart enough to imbue him with an eerie controlling and a malicious side that lets you understand the character better, and allows him to get his comeuppance in the end.

And just when you think it's all over for Hogarth and his pal, help comes in from an unlikely source: the beat-nick, artistic Dean McCoppin (Connick Jr.) Dean owns the scrap-yard, where he works on his sculptors and fends off the idle stares of the local townspeople, who don't understand his views and opinions. As much a social pariah as Hogarth, Dean comes to find a little piece of himself in the Giant and the persecution cast upon him.

By the time the army shows up and inadvertently activates the Giant's defensive program, the ending is almost inevitable. With the town, and his new friends, in danger, the Giant must do what he can to save them.

Bird, who won an Oscar for the Incredibles, has written an amazing screenplay, based on Ted Hughes' 1968 Iron Man. The set design, the period feel, the awesomely ridiculous Nuclear Prevention "Duck & Cover"-esque survival film shown in Hogarth's classroom. Bird really outdid himself in setting the stage.

This is an overall great film that, regardless your age, can transport you back to your childhood, and show you the true meaning of friendship.

Have a great weekend. Stay warm!

-Jos

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art.... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival." ~C.S. Lewis

Word Of Mouth

2006-02-16T12:54:00.000-08:00

I belong to an acting troupe that operates out of Frisco, called Word of Mouth Productions. Over the past 6 years, WOMP's put on several plays, musicals, and melodramas.

The first one I appeared in was 'The Body in the Belfry.' We then went on to perform: 'The Cotton Patch Gospel', 'WHBC Presents: The 1940's Radio Hour', 'Peril On The High Seas', 'Smoke On The Mountain', 'The Sanders' Family Christmas', 'All I Really Need To Know, I Learned In Kindergarten', and 'You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown.' Plus several Christmas productions and comedy skit routines.

WOMP also offers acting workshops around the year.

I've had so much fun with these people. They are at the top of their craft, and to watch them perform is truly amazing. WOMP is having auditions for a new show, 'The Saga of the Golden Horseshoe; or That's No Lady, That's My Filly.' Auditions were supposed to be tonight and Saturday, but circumstances beyond our control have pushed them back a few weeks. But, all will work out well. It should be a fun show.

If we ever have an awards ceremony, like the Cameys, we're so totally calling the award the WOMPA!

Hope everyone is having a good week. Go out and enjoy the weather, Dallas, because today's 80 degree afternoon will give way to a high of only 40 tomorrow. And we won't get out of the 30's over the weekend. Sigh. This is why everyone is sick and can't get any better.

Get back to you day, and thanks for stopping by to listen about mine.

-Jos

"The trouble with weather forecasting is that it's right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often for us to rely on it." ~Patrick Young

One Single Yesterday

2006-02-15T14:32:00.000-08:00

Sorry, things here at Josh o' Trades HQ have been crazy busy the past couple of days. Not much pertinent information to disclose. Still working on the spec-script outline. When the script breaks, you'll be the first to know.

Until then, or until I get out from under this pile of projects on my desk, I'll let you peruse this. It's the first chapter of a story I entered for NANO, a couple of years ago. It's about a group of summer camp counselors. It's called One Single Yesterday. I pulled the title from an old Joplin tune.

Hope you like it...

One Single Yesterday

"…and I’d trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday…"

--"Me & Bobby McGee" by Janis Joplin

"The first time you fall in love is the easiest thing in the world to do. It’s allowing the other person to fall in love, again, with someone else, that shows your true mettle."

--Andrew, Sr. Commander, Guardian Guild – Civilian Chapter

"Sail on, Silver Girl…"

-- "Bridge Over Troubled Water" by Simon & Garfunkel

•••

Wake up, Silver Girl.

It was several long moments before Alyson Michaels realized what was happening. The loud thumping drum behind her ears wouldn’t stop its assault on her senses. She opened her eyes slowly and resolutely and found herself in a nightmare version of hell.

The car was in the river. The windshield was gone with the hood and roof crumpled and broken. Water was rushing in at a frightening pace. Alyson was hanging forward, held only by the seatbelt. Outside, the rain and hail were beating a kinetic rhythm on the roof. Inside, riverwater was rising up her calves.

Oh, God…

Cold terror griped her as she realized just where she was. The base of Cape Fear. Fifty yards down from the embankment on Anderson Road. In the middle of the worst hurricane in two years.

At the bottom of the cape!

What had happened? Her memory of the past hour was lost in white noise. She vaguely remembered something about a fight; the road was wet, and Jeremy had – Jeremy!

She looked around franticly.

Where is he?

He wasn’t in the car with her. She couldn’t tell if he was in the river. The storm outside made it impossible to see anything.

The car made a violent shutter and the passenger window dropped below the surface of the lake. Alyson screamed as cold water cascaded in around her.

"Jeremy!" she shouted, "where are you?"

The car lurched again and Alyson found herself in water up to her neck.

"Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God…no. Please…"

In a panic, she tried to unfasten the seatbelt. It wouldn’t budge. She was trapped. Her cry was cut off by a forced mouthful of water. Tears were running down her cheeks though she didn’t notice them. Her feet kicked involuntarily as she sank completely underwater.

She saw a thick red blob floating near her face. Shock overtook her as she realized that it was her blood. She opened her mouth to scream and swallowed more water. Her lungs started to burn and convulsions shook her in her seat.

Realization came with a sobering effect. She was going to drown. She was about to die.

All alone…

A small light flickered just outside her field of vision. She turned to look, but it was very small and soon faded. And then, the world grew dark around Alyson Michaels.

•••

Wednesday, May 31, 1995

Teal sundress with white sports bra
Tan sandals
172 3/4 lbs. (More or less…)

Ugh! Nine hours on a Greyhound Bus is not how I wanted to spend my first day of summer. Alas, that’s how it was spent nonetheless.

Ok. I’m keeping this journal so I can keep track of my first real job. Mom says I should keep it because my memory isn’t so hot and, this way I’ll have something to show my kids. Whatever. Not having kids anytime soon, Mum, so there. Dad says to keep it because he wants proof that I’m actually working this summer and not just getting a tan and hooking up with cute lifeguards on his dime. Ha! As if, Daddy-O. B and I have only been apart a couple of months. (Ok, seven. But who’s counting?) I’m so not in the mood for another guy. Ever. Well…maybe not ever, but certainly not for a while. Life’s too
short and I have a job to do now. No guys this summer. Period.

Anyhoo, back to beautiful Southport, North Carolina. Beautiful is not the word. Lush green trees, golden sands and endless blue sea. Not unlike KH, but…I dunno…different, somehow. Can’t quite put my finger on it. Déjà vu perhaps? I’ll let you know as soon as I do. Promise.

Cape Fear is breathtaking. Saw it from the window on the way into town. (Opposite window, of course. Michaels’ Luck strikes again!) Blue/black waves breaking against the coast with reckless dismay, even in early summer.

Well, just pulled into station. Gotta run. When next I write, it will be from within the cabins of Boyett Bay. Wish me luck…

I closed my laptop and slipped it back into my Jansport. I stretched and winced as my neck refused to pop. Several hours on a bus did nothing for my poor back (not to mention the nagging hunch that TOM was making his visit a few days early.)

The past few weeks had started to take their toil. Though, nothing would prepare me for what lay ahead. But, as always, I’m getting ahead of myself…

It’s the last day of May, 1995, and I’ve just traveled some 300 miles from Kitty Hawk to Southport, North Carolina, to become the newest counselor at the prestigious Boyett Bay Summer & Boating Camp for Youngsters. Four months of fun in the sun off the coast of Cape Fear.

My name is Alyson Michaels; I’m eighteen years old and ready to make my mark.

The bus station was nothing much to write home about. Just a large green and white terminal identical to those found just about anywhere else. The only difference between this one and the one back home was that my folks were not two blocks away. The urge to shout a victory cheer was almost impossible to suppress.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder, waited for the guys to unload my bags (only three – I was impressed!), and walked into the terminal proper. I checked my watch and saw that we had actually arrived ten minutes ahead of schedule. Whatever. I could’ve walked here in half the time. I swear the driver was going at least fifteen miles under the speed limit!

There were only a few people milling around inside – ones I’d seen on the bus - so I guessed my ride hadn’t made it yet. Which was alright. The thought of getting back in a car for even a few minutes made my head hurt. (Not to mention my butt!) I made my way over to a vending machine on the far wall in search for chocolate and quick stop by the ladies (I never use bathrooms on buses or airplanes. The thought of someone else walking in makes me too nervous to pee.)

My fears were confirmed, TOM was indeed early. Curse my luck, the first week was my lifeguard certification drills. Oh, well. I’ve swam with cramps before. Nothing new there. Just a problem I’d just as well not had this early into it.

The face in the mirror was not one I expected to see. Florescent lights should be illegal! The dark circles under my eyes were a sharp contrast to the pale skin. I really could use that tan, I thought to myself. I pulled out my hair-band and ran my hand through the oily mop of brown tangles.

I washed my face and slicked my hair back. It wasn’t long enough for a ponytail yet, so I re-adjusted the headband and took another long look at the girl-not-quite-a-woman staring back at me. Only her green eyes looked familiar to me.

Oh, well. I have four months to get to know her…

When I came out I saw two very tan people in white Boyett Bay t-shirts sitting near my bags. The girl had beautiful dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was about my height and had the darkest blue eyes I had ever seen. They were almost navy!

The blonde guy was wearing expensive sunglasses and had a tattered paperback tucked under his arm. He was holding a small cardboard sign that read: MICHAELS, in black marker.

I grinned and walked over.

"You Alyson Michaels?" the girl asked.

"One and the same," I replied.

She smiled at me, held out her hand and said, "I’m LC Larkin."

I hesitated. "Elsie?"

Her right eyebrow twitched. "LC. Short for Linda Carroll. But, nobody calls me Linda Carroll, got it?"

"Oh, yes," I stammered, but took her hand. "Sorry. LC it is."

"Alright then."

I was so going to like her.

She smiled back. "He’s Greg Williams, but we all just call him the Professor."

I turned to Greg. "The Professor?" It was hard not to sneer.

He sighed and shook his head. He turned toward LC and bit his lip.

Damn. Bryan did the same thing whenever he was embarrassed. Will I never get over the man?

LC nudged him in the ribs and laughed. "Greg here always has his head buried in a book. Been that way all his life. Grigs always said that the boy’s going to be an English professor someday. The nickname stuck. It’s sad if you ask me. A little boy thing. Him and Grigs and Tin-Man. They’ve all been going or working at Boyett for the past ten years. Can’t use real names or anything"

You’re one to talk, LC, I started to say, but thought better.

I raised my hand. "Uh, Grigs and Tin Man?"

She shook her head. "You’ll meet them in due time. And, if they like you, you’ll get a nickname too. It’s a good thing…I think." She laughed. So did I, though I had my doubts.

"Come on," the Professor said, "let’s get rolling." He glanced at my feet. "Are those all the bags you have?"

I looked down and nodded.

"I’m impressed," he grinned.

"Wait ‘till you try to pick them up," I smirked.

"Oh, they can’t be that – Lord! What’ve ya got in here? Bricks?"

LC and I laughed. "Only the barest essentials I could not afford to give up for four months," I stated in my defense.

"Come on you two," LC replied, picking up the smallest of my suitcases, "we’re running late."

The parking lot was nearly empty save for an old Honda that looked like it hadn’t moved since the first Reagan administration. That and a faded gray Jeep with huge tires.

"Don’t scratch the paint," the Professor grunted as he hoisted one of my bags into the rear of the Jeep.

LC turned to me and pointed to the several scrapes and dings along the side fender. "Like he’d ever notice."

"Hey," he shouted, "I heard that!"

We laughed and climbed in and were soon on the main road heading toward Boyett Bay.

Ok. A little back history…

In the spring of 1946, Rear Admiral JR Boyett retired from active duty from the United States Navy. Upon the request of his loving wife of forty-three years, JR set about moving back to his beloved Tar-Heel state to spend their retirement years running a summer camp for kids.

By the summer of 1947, the Boyett Bay Summer & Boating Camp for Youngsters was born. Alva and JR ran the camp as smooth as an aircraft carrier until 1978, when JR passed away. Boyett Bay was turned over to JR’s son, JR the second, and had been one of the leading camps along the Carolina coast for over fifty years.

At least until 1992, when JR II suffered a major coronary and left the camp in the not so capable hands of JR III, or JR Jr.

I first heard about Boyett from my pool manager last September when I was working as a lifeguard at the Kitty Hawk Municipal Aquatic Club. Teresa "Tag" Griffis called me into her office one day after the last of the kids was out of the pool.

I love Tag’s office. Every wall was covered with pictures and awards from Swim Team’s past. There was a large print of the ‘93-’94 Swim Team over her desk with a sash declaring "National Champs" over it.

I caught a glimpse of the sixteen-and-a-half-year-old version of myself; all braces and dimples and innocence. What a difference a year makes.

Tag put down her coffee mug and stared at me with those gray eyes of hers. Some of the kids were scared of that stare. It had a way of looking straight through the nonsense and getting right to the point.

I always preferred it to her "Heat Vision" stare, though…

"So, Aly, where are you thinking of applying to work while you’re in school next year?"

"Dunno, Tag," I said, taking a much needed seat after a long day in the sun. "Haven’t given it much thought. Maybe KH Community? Was really thinking of coming back here. Why?"

"Well, I have a friend down in Cape Fear that needs a life-guard slash counselor this summer. Ever hear of a camp called Boyett Bay?"

I shook my head. "Doesn’t ring any bells. Should I have?"

She crinkled her nose. "No, I suppose not. Hasn’t been a big deal in a few years.

Doesn’t matter. Experience like this looks good on college applications. Junior needs to fill this slot in a hurry. Would you be interested?"

"Let me think about first. Talk it over with the folks, you know? Cape Fear is a pretty good ways from here. Don’t know if they’ll let the ‘baby’ go too far on her own yet."

Tag smiled. "I know what you’re thinking. And, yeah, your Dad’s gonna blow a gasket, but let me talk to them. Junior Boyett has a top-notch facility down there and he’s a good guy. Plus, your Mom and I went to school with him."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Come to think about it, your Mom and Junior may have even gone out a couple of times."

"Shut up!"

"Hand ta God."

An involuntary shudder ran down my spine.

I picked up my gym bag and rummaged around inside it until I found my comb. "I’ll think about it, ok?"

"That’s my girl. Now," she motioned to the parking lot, "get outta here, I have work to do."

I smiled and left. Tag called the folks the next night after dinner and by the end of the week, my application had been submitted and accepted. I was going to be Boyett Bay’s newest employee.

Boyett Bay was located about fifteen miles northeast of Southport, right in the middle of one hundred and fifty aces of the most beautiful country I’d ever seen.

As the Professor’s Jeep bounced its way down the gravel and dirt driveway, the feeling of going back in time overwhelmed me. The camp itself was set back off the main drive another three hundred yards. For the longest time, I could see nothing but Longleaf Pines and Sweet Birch trees. But then, we broke into the clearing and the view took my breath away.

A dozen small cabins surrounded a large amphitheater. Facing us was a huge wooden arch with "Boyett Bay" spelled out in blue and white paint. A stone walkway led to an old blockhouse and assembly hall about eighty yards behind the arch.

To the east, was one of the Boiling Spring Lakes, complete with dock, boathouse and several canoes and rafts. The west was lost to innumerable Oaks, Willows and Dogwoods. To the south, I could just make out the twin lighthouses of Bald Head and Oak Island.

All in all, it was amazing! I couldn’t wait to spend my summer here.

LC and I (with the Professor in tow) carried my bags up to one of the cabins on the west side. Due to the layout of the grounds, Cabin Five was the furthest back from the main camp. And the most private, LC explained, so of course, it was the natural hang out for all the counselors.

"Welcome home." LC smiled as she pushed open the door with her left foot. "Just drop your things, Junior wanted to see you first thing."

Ah, yes. JR Boyett, Jr. I’d heard a few things about him from Mom and Tag. But, he had hired me flat out with no interview or probation or anything. So, either Tag had talked me up pretty good, or the man was just plain desperate. I hoped it wasn’t the latter.

"Not a problem," I answered as I dropped the largest bag onto the right-hand bed. "Is this where I’ll be bunking?"

"Yep," LC said. "You, me, Tessa Archer and Nat Kendrick."

The Professor looked up at that. "Nat’s back this year?"

"Yeah. She and Tin-Man are down at Red’s. They’ll be back here Sunday for the softball game."

The Professor squinted and pursed his lips. "I didn’t think they were still together."

"They’re not. Just don’t tell Nat that." LC groaned. "I just said "Nat that’, didn’t I?"

I nodded and clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle. "’Fraid so."

She shook her head and grinned. "I’m glad you’re here, Aly. I think we’re gonna have fun."

I smiled. "I hope so."

"Come on," the Professor stated. "Junior’s waiting."

The three of us made our way back to the blockhouse. A short guy wearing only swimming trunks and a ballcap ran up to us. He had a deep tan and pale green eyes. He was soaked and I assumed he had just returned from a late afternoon swim.

"Hey, Kids. This the latest victim?"

LC smirked. "Alyson Michaels, meet Charley Grigsbey."

He took my hand. "It’s a pleasure, Allycat. And, please, call me Grigs. Everyone else does." He looked at the others. "You heading over to the office?"

Professor nodded.

"Good. Tell Junior I got the leak in the catamaran under control." He looked back toward the dock. "For now, anyway."

"Will do, Grigs." She looked him over. "Now, go get yourself cleaned up."

Grigs grinned and snapped a mock salute. "Yes, Ma’am. You going to ‘Nick’s tonight?"

LC turned hesitantly in my direction. "Thinking about it." Something in her voice made me nervous.

"Hey, it’s tradition." Grigs smiled in my direction. "All newbies have to be initiated over at ‘Nick’s."

I didn’t like the sound of this. "Um…what kind of initiation?"

"Nothing to be concerned about," LC said as she took my arm. "Come on. See you around eight-thirty, Grigs."

"Trust me, Allycat. It’s nothing painful. At least not too painful." His lop-sided grin made him look ten years old. He bowed to me and started to run toward the cabins. "Later, Kids."

As I watched him go, I wondered, not for the first time, just what I had gotten myself into.

Junior Boyett’s office was located on the second floor of the blockhouse. The room smelled of wet wood, stale cigarettes and old coffee. The desk – I believe it was oak, but I couldn’t be sure – was covered with pile after uneven pile of papers and folders.

Half-eaten fast-food containers and empty candy wrappers littered the side cabinets and the floor around the antique swivel chair, which housed the boss. An overflowing ashtray was resting not quite evenly on the edge of the desk.

The man himself was the picture of discomfort. He was easily fifty pounds overweight. His skin was pale and blotchy. There were dark circles under his eyes that his bifocals couldn’t quite hide. His once dark hair was starting to fade to a dull gray and the few thin strands that remained on top were combed hap-hazzardly over his bald pate.

The man was a caricature of the stereotypical overworked underpaid boss who was in way over his head. It broke my heart.

Junior stood up as we entered. He extended a fleshy paw with fingers the size of sausages. His fingernails were stained yellow from years of smoking. I expected his palms to be sweaty, and wasn’t let down.

"Alyson," he boomed with an oily smile. "Welcome to Boyett Bay. Tag Griffis had nothing but good things to say about you."

Then, almost as an afterthought. "How’s your mother?"

The idea of Mom and this…man almost made me ill. I could see no redeeming qualities in the guy. Not a one.

"Pleasure," I said. I’m not convinced I was able to keep the contempt out of my voice. If I wasn’t, Junior seamed not to notice. "Thank you for the opportunity to work here, Mr. Boyett."

The used-car salesman smile returned. "Call me Junior." He motioned to one of the armchairs along the wall. "Have a seat. You must be exhausted from your drive in."

The chair was covered in even more papers and folders. I picked up an armload, but wasn’t sure where to place them. I looked questionably to LC. She smirked and nodded to the floor. I dropped the stack, which kicked up a layer of dust that would have sent my mother into hersterics.

I pulled the chair out and took a seat. LC and the Professor did the same. Junior plopped back down into his chair.

"First of all. This is your first time working as a counselor, correct?"

I nodded.

He looked to LC then back to me. "You should know that not everyone is cut out for this job. LC and Greg here can vouch for that."

I started to ask who "Greg" was when I remembered that it was the Professor’s real name. It was a little scary how quickly I was settling in here.

Junior resumed. "By the end of your first week, you’ll understand. Now, not to worry, I have no doubt that you’re gonna do just fine here." He pointed to the two people beside me. "You’ll be surrounded by the best staff this camp has had in fifty years."

LC and the Professor rolled their eyes. I could tell this was an old story. Junior probably told it to all the new recruits.

"But," he interjected, "don’t think that it’ll be all fun and games. It takes a lot of hard work to run a camp of this size. Tag says that you’re a workhorse, and I’m gonna see if she’s right.

"We run a tight ship here. And, while we cut up and joke around, never forget that we’re here for the kids. For the next twelve weeks, the kids in your charge are your life. You have no other priorities. No other obligations. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." I was a little shocked that he thought I wasn’t here to work. But, Tag had mentioned that the turnover rate here was higher than usual.

A more grandfatherly grin appeared on his full face. "Good. Good. Like I said, I expect no problems out of you."

His attention returned to his desk. "Now, you kids get out of here. I have a lot of paperwork to do."

We got up to leave. The Professor placed a hand on my shoulder, smiled and shook his head.

LC spoke up. "Oh, Junior?"

"Yeah?"

"Grigs wanted you to know that the catamaran is water tight again."

"Glad to hear it. Maybe we’ll have everything operational by the time we open."

The Professor rolled his eyes. "First time for everything, I suppose."

"Get out of my office, Williams."

The anger in Junior’s voice startled me for a moment, but then I caught the slight smile on the large man’s face. These three were old friends. The banter was second nature to them. I hoped that I would get that comfortable with them in time.

We were walking out when Junior called my name.

"Yes?"

"One last rule. Almost forgot. Under no circumstances are you to date anyone in this camp. You read me?"

I tried to find any of the levity that he and the Professor had just shared, but found none. The man was completely serious.

"Not a problem, Junior. I just got out of a long relationship. I don’t plan on dating anyone for a long time."

Ah, if only it were that simple.

By the time LC and I made it back to Cabin Five, the long day was catching up with me. I collapsed onto the bed and fought the urge to lie there for the next four months.

"Don’t get too comfortable in there," LC called from the bathroom. "We’re still heading over to ‘Nick’s tonight."

‘Nick’s. I was getting more than a little upset about the vagueness of this guy. "Ok, that’s it," I snapped. "Just who is this ‘Nick,’ and why are going to his place tonight. And what’s this initiation I keep hearing about?"

LC walked into the room, a toothbrush in her mouth, her blue eyes large. "Relax," she said around the brush. "‘Beat-Nick’s’ is a little coffee bar over on Bald Head Island. Our friend, Nick Singleton owns it. It’s been the camp staff’s biggest hangout for the past five years or so."

"A coffee bar?"

"Yeah, you know, like that new show on NBC, Friends?"

Bryan and I had watched it a few times. It had its moments, but nothing to really write home about. It had managed to make it a full season, but I doubted it last much longer.

"Yeah, ok. Sounds cool. Just as long as we’re not out too late. I’m whipped."

"I promise. Not too late." Her smile was warm and contagious. I closed my eyes for a few minutes and reached under me to kneed my poor spine.

Had I had looked in the mirror, I would have seen the crossed fingers behind her back.

I changed into a tee shirt, jeans and a pair of Keds, and traded in my scratchy contacts for my glasses. LC and I met up with the Professor and Grigs. We all piled into his Jeep and were off.

It was only a short drive to the ferry, but I enjoyed it. Southport at twilight was quite gorgeous. The setting sun washed our surroundings in a coppery red hue that reinforced that sense of timelessness. Everything looked like a sepia-tone photograph.

Grigs was talking to the Professor about getting all the boats ready for the opening in a week and a half. LC and I were in the back. The wind was blowing through our hair and it felt great. It was one of those moments that stay with you for years to come.

A truly perfect moment in time.

Bald Head Island is really only known for two things: It’s view of Cape Fear, and the lighthouse. "Old Baldy" could be seen for miles around. Built in the early eighteen hundreds, the octagonal tower stood over one hundred feet above the mouth of the Cape Fear River. According to LC, it’s the oldest standing lighthouse in North Carolina.

The ferry trip was quick, but I was surprised that we didn’t take the Jeep with us. When I asked, Grigs explained that cars were not allowed on the island. Golf carts and bicycles were the only forms of transportation. And walking, of course.

If nothing else, this job was going to keep me in shape.

There was a guy at the terminal renting golf carts that seemed to know the others. I was introduced to Logan Greenwood. He had been a former Boyett counselor as well. He looked young and I suspected that he wasn’t too happy with his station in life at the moment.

He wished me luck and I waved goodbye. He was cute in that unkept way most guys my age were. He had dark hair and dark eyes. He was taller than me, which was always a good thing, and he had a nice smile. Suddenly the idea that I’d never get over Bryan began to waver ever so slightly.

LC caught our little eye contact. Nothing much escaped her attention, I would soon find out.

"Best to stay away from that one for now, Aly," she purred in my ear. "Boy’s nice, but has some baggage issues to overcome first."

"Don’t worry about me, LC, that’s the last thing I need right now."

But was it? I wasn’t so sure anymore.

She grinned at me. "Still, it’s nice to see you have good taste."

She grabbed my hand and we ran over to where the guys were waiting with the golf cart.

In less than five minutes, the Professor pulled up in front of a little wood and stone building. The plaque on the front wall declared it to be "Beat-Nick’s." It didn’t look like much from the outside, but then, the best hangouts rarely did.

Inside was a different story. The hardwood floors were polished to a golden shine and the deep red and green throw rugs gave the place a very comfy feel. There was a huge stone fireplace that I bet was the best place to sit during a winter storm. Large leather armchairs sat in a semi-circle around the hearth complete with footrests.

Four-person canoes hung from the rafters and assorted sports paraphernalia were strewn here and there. Hundreds of photographs of parties large and small adorned the walls. I saw the three people with me in more than a few of them. Interspersed with the pictures were stapled one-dollar bills with quotes and signatures scribbled on them.

Overhead speakers quietly played a nice mix of oldies rock and 80’s and 90’s contemporary music. I saw a digital jukebox on the wall between the bathroom doors.

On the far side of the main room was a long oak bar with brass and chrome piping. There was a very large man behind it, wiping it down. A floor to ceiling mirror ran the entire length of the back wall. There was a side room that held various pool tables and dart boards and card and chess tables. TV’s were mounted to the corners, each tuned to a different sports channel.

I was quickly beginning to see why the Boyett staff liked this place.

LC and the boys made their way up to the bar. I sank into a recliner near the fireplace. It felt just as good as it looked. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until I closed my eyes. The urge to fall asleep was quite hard to resist.

The old Lennon / McCartney tune, Rocky Raccoon, filled the room. Damn, damn, and damn some more. It was the song playing when Bryan and I first kissed.

Alright! I wanted to scream. I get it! I’m not going to be over him anytime soon! I’m not going to find anyone better than him.

Fine. Fine. I accept that. But I wasn’t ready for marriage. Not last year and not two (seven) months ago. And, I was too tired to keep defending myself to myself. Yes, I was the one to break it off. Yes, he didn’t see it coming. Yes, it hurt him way more than it hurt me.

But, I have the right to lie my life the way I want to. Right? That’s what I used to think.

The hand on my arm almost produced a scream. Almost. It did cause me to jump, though. Which, in turn, caused LC to jump and drop the two coffee mugs she was holding to the floor.

I looked up at her, my face full of embarrassment. "Oh! LC, I’m so sorry."

She grinned. "No worries, Aly." She looked down. "No permanent damage done. You ok?"

"Yeah."

A new voice entered the room. "Everything alright over there?"

LC turned to me. "Aly Michaels, meet Nick Singleton. Owner and proprietor of ‘Beat-Nick’s’"

"Pleased to meet ya, Little Lady. Friends call me Nick."

The man holding out his hand was in his mid-thirties, with short brown hair. He was even taller up close and had the biggest forearms I’d ever seen. The thick drawl held hints of either an Oklahoma or Texas ancestry.

"Sorry ya don’t approve of the coffee. Ya could’ve just returned it."

"Oh! I’m really sorry, I-"

But Nick was laughing. "Aww, that’s alright. Just a couple of mugs. Easily replaced." He regarded the floor. "And hardwood’s the easiest thing to clean. You shore you’re alright?"

I could feel my cheeks get flush. "Yes, sir."

A frown formed on his face. "Now look here." He pointed a large finger at me. "Let’s get this straight. I’m Nick. Just Nick. No sir’s. No mister’s. Nick. Got it?"

"Y-yes, s-…Nick," I stammered.

The big man roared with laughter again. "Calm down, Aly. It’s ok. Really. Can I get ya anything?"

I took a deep breath. "Sure, Nick. How about some hot chocolate?"

A warm infectious smile lit up his face. "Can do. How about a slice of cheesecake as well? It’s pretty fresh."

My stomach awoke to those words. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Somewhere near Jacksonville. About eighty years ago. "Um…you wouldn’t happen to have a burger or two hiding back there, would you?"

Nick grinned. "I’ll see what I can find." He turned to Grigs and the Professor. "Come on, Boys. I need your help changing out the tap."

Grigs was protesting. "How come you always have to change out the tap whenever we show up?"

Nick placed a large hand on his shoulder. "Just lucky, I guess."

When the guys were gone, LC sat down beside me. "You sure you’re ok?"

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Yeah, LC. I’m fine. Just tired is all."

I looked back at the bar. "So, what’s the story with Nick? I take it he’s not a local."

She laughed. "Yeah. Nick migrated here form a little town in East Texas a few years ago. He really is a teddy bear. All roar, no bite. Unless there’s trouble, of course. You saw his arms, right?"

"Did I? Man looks like he could punch holes in concrete."

A small grin pulled at the corners of LC’s mouth. "He can. And has. This one time, he and Tin-Man…well, it’s not important. Let’s just say I’m never worried about being here after dark."

Now, that got me curious, but I could see in her expression that that story was for another time. It did, however, bring up another question I’d been wondering about.

"Hey, LC?"

"Yeah?"

"If it’s forbidden for staffers to date, what about Nat and…uh, Tin-Man? Who is this guy, anyway? Sounds like an urban legend"

She did laugh this time. She pointed to a picture on the wall to my right. "First of all, Tin-Man is actually Jeremy Hart. That’s him."

The photo showed a guy in his mid-twenties with long brown bangs and a Robert Redford smile. Dirt on his face and Band-Aids on his fingers. He was standing at the top of a cliff with a breathtaking view of the North Carolina mountainside behind him.

It was like when I see someone I only know from the radio. I’ve never been good at visualizing what people look like. I don’t think anyone really is. But, really, not at all what I was expecting. This was the mighty Tin-Man? Kind of disappointing, in a way.

Still, he looked smart (not to mention a little dangerous), but cute nonetheless. I couldn’t help it. There’s just something about a guy with an adventurous side that gets my blood pumping.

"Anyway," LC stated, breaking off my wandering thoughts, that small grin returning to her lips. "He’s senior staff, so he gets special treatment. But, it’s not like that.

"Boy doesn’t date. Not really. No, he and Nat are old friends, from elementary school and up. Every summer, a few of us drive down to Florida. His mom has a house down there. Red’s cool. You’ll like her. Nat’s just visiting, that’s all."

I was looking through the rest of the pictures. There were several shots of the Boyett gang at different events. In most of them, Tin-Man was in the center. However, while the rest of the group was looking at the camera, I noticed that LC was looking at Tin-Man.

It was a look I’d seen before. One I’d seen in the mirror after I’d just meet Bryan. One I knew all too well. I turned back to face her. "You like him, don’t you?"

For a long time I didn’t think she’d answer. Then, she said softly. "It doesn’t matter."

About that time, Nick and the boys came back carrying plates of burgers and baskets of fries. Hunger took over all other thought.

If it hadn’t, I would have seen LC wipe a tear from her eye.

I had just finished my burger and second slice of cheesecake (homemade by the way, by Nick, no less) when the door opened and several people dressed in Boyett Bay polo shirts walked in. Nick let out a yell and kicked the volume on the jukebox up.

I’d like to say that I remember everyone I met that night, but…no. Mom’s right, my memory is pretty rotten, and I didn’t have my journal to write the names down.

I do remember one in particular due to the fact that I spent the rest of my summer with her no less than ten feet away. Tessa Archer, the Kiwi.

Again with the nicknames. Why? Why, I ask you? We’re adults for crying out loud. Ah, well, nobody asked me, right? Right. Moving right along then.

Tessa (I refuse to call her Kiwi) was a really nice girl from New Zealand. The girl had one of the most beautiful accents I’d ever heard. And, she was a good two inches taller than me even, and I’m no slouch at five-foot, ten and three quarter inches.

Her long arms and legs were covered with a tan darker than I’d ever have in two lifetimes of lying out and her strawberry-blonde hair reached her mid-back.

I wasn’t aware how much pure hate one person could feel for another. I bet she never had a single pimple her whole life. It’s just not fair. People like her are just not natural, and shouldn’t be allowed to live.

But, she was sweet and we bonded right from the start. Together with LC, we were a force not to be reckoned with. We were girls, hear us roar.

Ugh! Sorry about that. I need to sleep more.

Anyway, all I’m trying to say is that Tes and I hit it off pretty well that night. That, and Grigs gives the best back rubs in the history of the planet.

Sorry, got ahead of myself. Will try not to let that happen again.

At some point of the night, I complained to Tes and LC about my back. When I was twelve, I was in gymnastics. It wasn’t my idea by any means. Dad had a love of the Olympics and dreamed of seeing his little girl flying through the air on her way to a gold medal.

Fate had other ideas.

I wasn’t as graceful as most, but my long limbs made me pretty versatile in the beam and bar events. I had a strong upper body and with enough coaxing, I could make it bend the way I wanted it to. And, it was fun, those days filled with cartwheeling and flipping on big blue mats.

I’d always been athletic and figured that when placed within my already weekly cycle of swimming and tennis, it would be a great way to stay in shape. Mom was worried, as always, but Dad just beamed. A genuine smile form the old man was rare to come by in those days, so I took every chance I got.

It was the last event of some little regional meet that was really nothing more than excuse for coaches to get together to see the competition without putting their name on the line. It was well past nine and pouring rain outside. Mom and Dad were in the bleachers somewhere and I was getting nervous.

It had been an off night for our team. Peggy Moreland had slipped from the parallel bars not once, not twice, but three times. The parent running the music for April Dodson’s floor exercise had played the wrong song, which threw off her timing. And, Wendy Hampton had been in the bathroom all night driving the porcelain bus due to an unscheduled Mexican lunch.

All in all, not our best night.

Mom hadn’t washed my favorite uniform, the red one, so I was stuck with last years green one. Coach Brasher was in one of his moods. The rest of the team was done and ready to leave.

I really had to pee.

I was supposed to run up to the horse, bounce off the springboard and do a summersault with a twist, and stick the landing. Nothing to it. Done it a thousand times. You can almost see what’s coming, can’t you?

I hit the springboard dead center. Perfect bounce, everything one-hundred percent--by the numbers--green lights across the board. Halfway through the summersault, I realized something was wrong. Either I hadn’t pushed off the horse hard enough, or I had timed my rotation too slowly. In any case, the floor was a lot closer than it should have been.

And, I was still upside down.

I really don’t remember much after that. I remember looking up and seeing Coach Brasher and the other girls. I could see their lips moving, but couldn’t hear any sound. I remember seeing rain hitting the little back windows of the ambulance. I remember waking up in the hospital the next day with a plastic ring around my neck, a tube in the back of my hand and what
felt like an icepick lodged between my shoulderblades.

I looked at Mom. I couldn’t read anything from her tears. She cried at television commercials, so she was no help. It was the look on Dad’s face that told me everything. That frown spoke volumes.

I had impacted my neck and shoulders and had broken a vertebrae in my mid-back. I was in traction for eight weeks. It took another two months before I could walk without a cane. And my father never smiled again.

It’s been a few years now, but I still can’t take long car rides or sit in one position for too long. The ride down here had been murder. If I didn’t lie down soon, I was going to regret it the next morning.

Anyway, I was complaining about my back when Tes called Grigs over. He had me sit on one of the footstools and placed his hands on my shoulders.

Oh. My. God. The boy has magic fingers. My body turned instantly to play-dough under his touch. He pressed and rubbed hard into the muscles of my back with a strength that even my physical therapist had lacked.

In less than two minutes, he had loosened my entire back. Nine hours worth of tension! In two minutes! The boy ain’t human. And then, he…he did this thing with his fingers. I can’t describe it. It was like he was popping them, but, no, that’s not quite it. You just have to experience it for yourself.

It wasn’t just great. It was pure heaven. I would have done anything he asked me to right then. Anything.

"It’s a good thing he only uses his powers for good, huh?" LC said, but I barely heard her.

Though, I did try to answer. My neck didn’t work anymore as I think my entire backbone had turned to rubber. Under different circumstances, the moan that escaped my lips would have caused me enough embarrassment to pack up and move to the other side of the country. By that point, however, I hadn’t a care in the world.

I heard the Professor’s voice. "Don’t knock her out yet, Grigs. Nick, I think it’s time for the initiation." Cheers went up all around me. I knew I should have been a little worried, but Grigs had lulled me into a state of nirvana.

I should have known better.

I found myself on top of a wooden chair surrounded by everyone. Grigs, the Professor, LC, and Nick were closest to me and I wasn’t too keen on the smirks I saw on their faces.

The "initiation", it turned out, was for me to stand up in front of everyone and sing the Boyett Bay theme song.

Ok. Two things wrong with this picture. One: I didn’t exactly know the Boyett Bay theme song. Two: Hmm. How do I put this? Yeah. Singing and me? Not on the best of terms. I mean, there’s a reason I was asked to retire from the school chorus. No. I’m not kidding. And, no, I don’t want to talk about it.

Now, you have to keep in mind that I had been up for nearly twenty hours by that point. Not really the best time to ask me to do something I rarely do in front of close personal friends. Let alone a room full of strangers that I’d just met a handful of hours before.

But, there was also the fact that Grigs had loosened the remaining strands of logic I had left with those magic fingers of his. Oh, and just to add more fuel to the fire? Yeah. I noticed that the really cute guy from the rental station had joined our little band of merry men.

Those brown eyes looked up at me from underneath his sable bangs and I just wanted to know for certain what toothpaste he used. I mean, I could’ve spent the next three years staring at the boy.

Without a doubt. I’m just saying.

Anyway, back to the chair of impending doom.

LC handed me a very worn card that looked as if it had lived the better part of a century under one of Nick’s tap refills. On it were printed the verses of the camp theme song.

I looked down at her with what must have been an expression of pure terror.

"What?" she asked. "It’s tradition." She grinned wickedly and waved her hand around the circle. "We all had to do this our first night." Cheers and nodding approvals followed. I couldn’t help but see Grigs smirk.

So I turned back to Logan. What? The boy knew how to smile. I’m just saying.

"Fine," I muttered. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat.

"Boyett Bay, we’ll always love you. Hold your honor high."

This was humiliating.

"We will cherish every memory, Of your dear old name."

My voice cracked on name and I heard Tessa laugh.

"Higher yet we hold your banner, Wave it far and wide."

Will this never end?

"Now we pledge anew to Boyett, Dear old Boyett Bay."

Thunderous applause and encouragement greeted me. I felt my face turn about eighteen shades of red before I was allowed to step down. And, just for the record, it was one Logan Greenwood, he of the dark hair and dark eyes, that offered a hand to help me down.

LC pulled me away and hauled me back toward the door. Her fingers sank into my upper arms with a strength I wasn’t expecting. "What did I tell you about Logan?"

I looked back over my shoulder. "I know, I know." I sighed and turned back to LC.

"I think I’m in trouble."

She laughed and shook her head. "No doubt, sister."

Alright. I guess there’s something you should know. Something I’m not too proud of. Might as well get it out of the way…

I started dating Bryan Jamison during the summer before my junior year of high school. He was captain of the boys swim team. He was tall and tan and had a look about him in the water that screamed competitor.

His dad taught eleventh grade English and his mom worked at the bank. He had two brothers and one sister, his twin. Julie and I had been friends since elementary school. So, I had grown up knowing him. He and his brothers used to tease Julie and me relentlessly. For years, just the sound of his voice used to make me tense up.

And then, something changed. It was like a light inside of me was suddenly switched on.

We were on the team bus on our way back home from some swim-meet that I can’t even remember right now. The girls and I had been beaten thoroughly and I was in no mood for the songs and hijinks usually associated with trips home.

Sometime during that long drive, Bryan ended up beside me. He didn’t say a word. He just took my hand in his and looked at me. His eyes asked the question and my mouth answered by finding his.

And that was all it took.

For the next year, you couldn’t tear us apart. We did all the things couples do. We went to movies and biked in the park. We went on hikes and exchanged gifts on birthdays and at Christmas.

We trained together side by side in the pool and talked for hours about our hopes and dreams. We were voted "Best Couple" our Senior year and got invited to the best parties.

Sure, we had our ups and downs. Every couple does. Trust me. If your relationship never argues or fights, then there’s something wrong.

Our main issue was the whole "physical" thing. Just how far is too far? And just because you cross one line once, does that mean that you can never go back to that line?

It was hard. I’m a very physical person. That’s how I showed my affection. I liked holding hands. I liked hanging all over somebody. I loved back rubs and falling asleep on the couch after a couple hours of heavy breathing.

But, there was a point I didn’t want to cross. I’m not saying I was going to "save" myself for marriage. Now, I’m not condemning that either. It works for some people, and more power to them. I’m just not that strong. You know? All I’m saying is that when that when the time came, I wanted to be sure.

There was also a large matter of respect. The further I went with Bryan, the more I felt less and less special and attractive in his eyes. And that hurt.

It came to a point when I was the only one who was saying stop. Don’t get me wrong. I really wanted to give Bryan everything I could. I loved him. As much as I could love anyone then. I loved the attention, and – let’s face it – the boy knew how to make out.

That was the problem. He knew what buttons to push and which emotions to play. Now, don’t start thinking him a jerk. He really wasn’t. I don’t think he had some agenda of getting me into bed. He wasn’t like that. He was a really nice guy. In the beginning, he had wanted to back off as much as I did. Sometimes more.

But, he was an eighteen year old male. And some urges are hard to turn off once they start rolling. Others are impossible.

The night Tag told me about Boyett was our one year anniversary. We had a nice dinner in town and went back to his house to watch movies. His parents were out of town for the week on a cruise. His brothers were off at school. Julie (the two of us had drifted apart once Bryan and I started dating. I was really sorry about that) had found somewhere else to be that night.

I had no intention of seeing Cary Elwes portray Robin Hood. I couldn’t bear to see him in any role that couldn’t live up to Wesley.

"As you wish." Heh.

And I wasn’t about to watch Andrew McCarthy and Jonathan Silverman drag a dead man around through yet another film. I mean one whole movie was bad enough. But a sequel? Who exactly was beating down the studio door for a part two of that? No, really. Who?

But as much as I tried to make him watch Meg Ryan stalk Tom Hanks across the country, Bryan would have no part of it. So I was truly surprised that he agreed on another Tom Hanks headliner. Of course, we didn’t even get to the part where he meets Denzel before we were…um…otherwise occupied.

I can still feel him placing my anniversary present on me. A breathtakingly beautiful opal and diamond necklace. His hands were warm against my skin. His breath tickled my earlobe. The lingering taste of dinner was still on his lips.

Before I knew it, most of our clothes were on the floor. For one brief moment, he stopped and looked at me, his eyes wide, brows raised.

No words were exchanged. None were needed.

I closed my eyes and nodded yes.

•••

It was well past midnight before Tessa, LC and I made it back to Cabin Five, and I could barely see, let alone walk. The girls dragged my weary butt into the cabin and deposited me roughly onto a nearby bunk.

If the others did anything else that night, I’ll never know. I’m pretty sure I died well before my head hid the pillow.

And thus ended the first day. Only four more months to endure…

•••

-Jos

"You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you." ~Ray Bradbury