Camelback Conquered

Last year I tried to go up Camelback Mountain in Phoenix, AZ. Last year my foot prevented me from making it up to the top.

This year I beat the Mountain.

I did have a year of not doing foolish things. Well, relatively not foolish things. And I also tried using different footwear. Last year I had on running shoes. They were so soft that they bent over every rock and protruberance, thusly hurting my foot. This year I had hiking boots. They were heavy with a hard soles and went over the ankle and provided support there.

It was a 49m 19s to get to the top, and 45 minutes to get down. Down would have been easier if I were able to jump and run down like a billy goat, but I didn't want to risk hurting myself. We could have hoofed it when we got back tot he street, but we were chatting and not too worried about the time.

So I beat the mountain. Because it defeated me last year, that was the reason I called Terry to hike it this year.

Bottom line. I hold grudges. I don't forget...

Zombie Mania

Currently Zombies are in the zeitgeist of American culture. Not really mainstream culture, I guess, but on the edges of geek culture that bleeds over into mainstream. I never thought I would see a really gross graphic zombie show on television, but there it is; The Walking Dead.

I was curious about the show even though I don't like horror movies. I find the torture porn of the Saw movies and Hostel movies very wrong and without redeeming qualities. I don't like horror movies. If I want to scare the piss out of me I'll go risk my life jumping off of things. I don't need demons, serial killers, or monsters...

The Walking Dead shocked me with how graphic the effects were. Certain things I found quite predictable. Guy rides a horse into a town overrun with zombies. The horse will be eaten by zombies. Duh. Guy hides in place where there is a corpse; the corpse is alive and just taking a rest. Duh. One thing that was a surprise and repulsive; they were trying to figure out how the dead knew the people weren't dead. Smell. They didn't smell like rotting flesh. So they cut up a dead body and smeared themselves with with the offal. Brilliant plan and it worked, but EWWWW!

I don't know if you have ever smelled anything dead, like maybe a dead rat in the walls, the odor is repulsively distinct and very powerful. I described it here in Um, Not a Fucking Chance. So my stomach was turning when I saw this technique.

There's also another side to my thinking. I want to know how it works. What has happened to the world that Zombieism is a real workable option? Some sort of super virus? Genetic engineering of a bioweapon? You would think that with all the zombie movies beginning with Night of the Living Dead, scientists would know better than to try such a thing. It never turns out well.

What process is capable of reanimating a dead body? Because once you are dead, very bad things start happening to your body. There are all sorts of things living in your body which are kept at bay by the process of you being alive. Once that spark of life it gone, you are a meal... The politic worms come later after you are in the ground.

I liked the vampire zeitgeist thing. Vampires could at least be sexy and have a conversation. Zombies are rather poor in the brains department unless they are eating them. Vampires are a bit played out right now. I blame Twilight for homogenizing and making them broody eyebrow acting caricatures of something cool. The pendulum will swing the other way when zombies are played out and there will be something new and supernatural which will be all the rage in the media.

Bottom line? I watched 2 episodes in a row, and I had nightmares all night long after going to bed. Fuckin' zombies chasing me...

The American Dream

I've been hearing a lot lately about The American Dream. This being the gold standard politicians drag out when bitching about the way they see America right now. John Boehner gets weepy about The American Dream when saying tax cuts for the richest 2% needed to stay in place.

Seems to me the richest 2% have achieved The American Dream. This dream is to be Uber-Rich, right? And fuck the little guy, the middle class. But that's another subject...

But is there a French Dream? An Australian Dream? An Indonesian Dream? A Russian Dream? I don't really know enough about foreign politics to know if politicians in other countries have a phrase like, The _______ Dream. They very well could. It's an awesome thing to make people long for a time they think was less difficult. They think it was less difficult because they were kids and their parents never let them know things were tough. Don't scare the children...

Do the French, Australians, Russians think they are entitled to The Dream? That life should be easy? Or is that a uniquely American thing? We have a very high opinion of ourselves. We are exceptional! If you look at how we rank in the world for education, we are not exceptional. Except in one area. We have the highest self esteem. Self esteem without talent or intelligence to back it up is vacuous arrogance.

But enough about politicians...

Facebook #5

After a year I still don't have much use for Facebook. I look at it most days and maybe once every 2 weeks post something. I do look at what people are posting but only comment rarely. When I am commenting I have to think, "Will I end up with a lot of emails in my inbox?" because I'm getting every following comment. If the answer is yes, I may not post.

I have blocked a few people. Actors mainly. The ones who are telling me 5-10 times a day that they are in a show with 3 performances on the weekend. I fucking get it. You are in a show. Great. Does posting (bugging people) constantly on FB get their asses in a chair? Doubt it. Because I can tell you I didn't go see these shows. I have also blocked all the games on FB and I blocked the daily messages from God. (I wonder if there are daily messages from Allah, or Buddha?) If God wants me to know something I figure there's other ways to convey a message. Burning bush worked for Moses.

The people who post every little thought that goes thru their heads make me wonder if they ever have a thought of consequence. I have lots of trivial thoughts, but they aren't really important enough to shout to the world. And the thoughts that I'd like to shout to the world are too personal. How do you write something like, "Mom's severely depressed and wishes she were dead?"

I have an issue with the privacy thing as well. I don't like the applications that give access to all my information, and the information of my "friends". I know this social network is a platform for data mining like no other, but I don't want to have my identity stolen. It's pretty easy with the basic information. Hometown. Date of Birth. Mother's maiden name. And there is an app that tells people where they are at any moment. When I see that on the wall, I want to comment, "Stealing your flat screen TV!"

I have seen people get support for when their dad died unexpectedly. That is nice. But this thing glorifies the trivial and mundane.

"I like toast with cream cheese", but I'm not going to update my FB page when I'm having it as a snack...

December Birthdays

My birthday is in a few days. December 19th to be exact. (I'm going to be 28.) Because my birthday is so close to Christmas it's sometimes difficult to have a party. This is for lots of reasons.

1. Christmas is 6 days away. People are out of town.

2. People are busy.

3. Actors (which are most of my friends) are doing Christmas shows.

4. People are shopping.

5. People are working harder to get ready for the time off they will take.

This year my party is shared with another person who has his birthday the day after mine. It's being kept small. I've never been one for big birthday parties. Not my style. And it's tough to get people to commit to anything in a time which is so busy.

I think I might do a half birthday in June. It might be easier to get a group together...

Frank/Jack and the Holy Box of Antioch

Back when I was in Phoenix a group of friends came up with a ritual performed at parties. Don't worry. I doesn't involve sacrificing kittens on a moonlit equinox, it was a drinking ritual. One that lasts to today when we get together, usually at a Cutthroat Christmas Party. (Steal from your friends game.)

The Box was one of those tin gift boxes you see at Christmas time with some kind of booze and maybe a flask or glasses. The booze in question was Jack Daniels. Not any kind of special Jack, not Gentleman Jack, or anything fancy, just plain old Jack Daniels. There might have been glasses, but I don't remember. The bottle was nestled in a plastic felt-like holder.

A ritual was started by Ron and Oz somehow. When the box was brought out during a party, the person holding it would hit their forehead with the box before pouring shots from the bottle. The ritual was stolen from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. It was the countdown for the Holy Hand Grenade used to destroy the rabbit. If you don't know the movie, rent it.

"The number of the counting shall be 3, and 3 shall be the number of the counting. 1, 2, 5. No 3 sir." And then everyone would drink the shot of Jack. A simple ritual. It sounds kind of stupid when I write it here, but it was a bond of friendship with a group of people I don't see too often now.

Now the Frank part of this tale... When I was working a Frank Sinatra concert in Tempe AZ, I stole a half full bottle of Jack Daniels from his dressing room after the show. Actually the concert was Frank, Dean Martin, and Liza Minelli. Sammy was supposed to be on that tour but had recently died.

Well, not letting a bottle of Jack go to waste, we drank most of it. When there was a few shots left we transfered them into the bottle in the Box of Antioch. So the molecules of alcohol from Frank mixed with the bottle and transmuted it. Like water to wine in the Catholic church I guess. As each bottle got low we transfered to the next bottle. This went on for years. I don't know what happened to the Box or Frank.

Well, Ron slept with women he shouldn't have and was kicked out of the group. So the party was Oz. The party ended on April 28, 2008 when Oz had a heart attack and died. A larger than life guy with a body to match. We did the toast at the grave site for Oz with a bottle of Jack. And every year since we do the toast as a memorial at the Christmas party.

I have to miss the party this year.

Letter to Senator Kyl of AZ

Dear Senator,

By blocking the START treaty you are putting the USA in danger. This treaty has inspections that verify Russian nukes aren't missing from their stock pile. This keeps nukes out of the hands of terrorists who are trying to acquire nukes or material for dirty bombs. Are you really so intent about stopping the President that you would put the country in danger? 1500 nukes on either side is enough to blow up the planet dozens of times over. By cutting the stockpiles we gain verification that their weapons are safe.

I grew up in AZ. I'll tell all my friends and family to vote against you in your next election. You care more about politics and blocking the President than helping the country stay safe.

Sincerely, Brad Upton

Kinda cool that you can instantaneously piss off a Senator. I wonder if he will read it or if some assistant deletes it. I didn't ask for a reply.