Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Last night I was talking to my friend Lauri. We often have lengthy late night phone conversations. They're funny, and I wouldn't miss a single one of them. Lauri has recently come down with a head cold or a flu so she was grumpy and uncomfortable last night. She began the phone call with a diatribe against the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. This went on for quite awhile, and towards the end of the phone call I remembered a pivotal moment in my life. It was a moment when part of me changed from one thing to another.

Pivotal moments happen all the time, but they are not as common as transition periods. For instance, in 1980 I turned 18 and I registered to vote. I registered as a Republican, and that year I voted for Ronald Reagan as President. By 1984, however, I was disillusioned, and I voted for Walter Mondale in that year. As far as I can tell, there was no pivotal moment when my political opinions changed from one thing to another. Instead, there was a long transition period. On the other hand, my love of refried beans happened at a pivotal moment. I grew up hating them, and you couldn't pay me to swallow a pinto bean, fried or refried. But, in the Spring of 1982 I went into a Mexican restaurant with my folks, and I instantly liked refried beans. This change happened in a moment. I rode in the car to the restaurant as someone who hated refried beans, and moments after entering the restaurant, I loved them. (I didn't even eat any first before the change. In fact, I ordered some with my meal that night because I suddenly liked them.)

In the 80's I used to go to the movies every weekend with my friends. Pat and I started going to the movies first— not every weekend, but frequently. Then I moved in with Dale and started going to the movies frequently with him and Ken. By the late 80's I was going to at least one movie a weekend with one or more of these guys. Frequently, all of us went on a given Friday night. It was about this time that Clayton started hitting the movies with us as well, and his presence virtually assured that every weekend there would be a trip to one movie or another.

I was an avid movie watcher then. I have always had the ability to lose myself in a movie— any movie— unless it's incredibly bad. There's just something about sitting in a dark theatre and watching that big screen. I am sucked in right away. In fact, it is difficult for me to pull myself out of a movie. That's why I don't see horror movies or incredibly violent movies. I can't distance myself from what's happening on screen.

So we would go week after week to see whatever the new big release movie was. If there wasn't a big release on a given weekend, odds are I would see a movie a second or a third time with one or more of the guys. The only question week after week was "Which movie?"

And then I hit my pivotal moment. One instant I was a huge movie geek, willing to go week after week to see almost anything, and then the next moment I could no longer do that. Unlike many other pivotal moments, this one had a name: Eraser.

I was never the world's biggest Arnold Schwarzenegger fan. I skipped most of his early movies, refusing to believe they could be good, and I really only started to see his movies when he became so popular that you couldn't go to the movies without seeing him. Along the way, I even enjoyed a few of his movies. (T2, True Lies) But Arnold was my trigger. I saw the trailer for Eraser a few times before other movies, and I assumed I would see it, but when the weekend finally rolled around, I couldn't go. I suddenly knew that I'd seen that movie a hundred times before. Something inside of me changed and I just couldn't see that crap any more. In fact, with one exception, I never saw another Arnold vehicle after that. The one exception was Batman and Robin, which was one of the worst superhero movies ever, but, to be fair, that wasn't Arnold's fault.

I got a lot of shit from my friends at the time for skipping that movie, and I got a lot of shit going forward from then for continuing to skip the same old Hollywood crap. In fact, to this day, one of my friends still gives me shit if he invites me to go along and I choose not to. I can only assume that my friends haven't built up their immunities to Hollywood crap the way I have.

Anyway, for some reason I thought that was interesting enough to write about. Doubts about its interest level have been rising since the second or third sentence. I hope you'll come back again soon!

"I'll be back."— Arnold Schwarzenegger in The Terminator

Oops, I Did It Again

I was on a roll there for a few days, and then I fell off the wagon again. *sigh*

The truth is, I've been distracted quite a bit since my last post... I can't stop watching episodes of Lost! I fell hard. When I started, I was only watching during meals. That is, generally, during lunch I would watch the most recent episode of Craig Ferguson that was online, and then at dinner I would watch the next episode of Lost. Once I really got into Lost, however, I started skipping Ferguson, reasoning that he would still be available once I finished Lost. Then I started queuing episodes of Lost when I wasn't eating. I'm up to three or more episodes a day, and I've just started the second season. Last night I watched the two-part, three-hour season 1 finale all after midnight. I am so hooked.

The best part about watching Lost now is that, even though I've heard a lot of plot spoilers over the years, every few episodes there is a moment where I (literally!) say, "I didn't see that coming." I said that aloud last night when the French woman lead them to the Black Rock, and it turned out to be an old ship resting high and dry in the jungle.

I've also finally been able to dig in and do some real work on the web storefront I mentioned earlier. I have to work with someone— it's really his website and I'm just the hired hand— and he is slow to give me what I need to get the job done. He wants to check and doublecheck everything for every tiny little footstep we take. I would rather he gave me everything I needed and let me build as much as possible before going back for review. But, as has been pointed out to me by more than one person, this slow way ultimately means more money for me. My regret, though, is that my Uncle, who is the man who created the business, will have no chance to be impressed by my work ethic since it's being filtered through this other guy (who is actually my Uncle's son-in-law).

Well, I haven't much to talk about tonight. I hope to be back soon with more.

"It's a recession when your neighbor loses his job; it's a depression when you lose yours."— Harry S. Truman

Who Had 8 Days In The Poll

Well, I am drinking caffeine again. Here's how it happened.

I've probably mentioned this before, but for the past several years, my friend Pat and I have been going to a local collector show. 'Local' in this sense means we can drive there in 45 minutes to an hour. It's actually located in the city of Industry. The name of the show is Frank & Son Collectible Show, and it features a couple hundred dealers, primarily dealing in fan-based merchandise. There are comic books, action figures, Disney pins, sports cards, other trading cards, sports memorabilia, Hot Wheels, rare videos, movie posters, movie memorabilia, and, yes, you can still get Beanie Babies. Pat and I used to get game trading cards all the time and browse the rest of the merchandise. It's been a long time, however, since I've been able to afford TCGs. Pat primarily gets trading card sets that he collects and the occasional box of TCG cards for his after-school card club.

Four or five years ago, the show started hosting the very infrequent celebrity for autograph signing. The early celebrities tended to be wrestlers or sports figures. In the past year or two, however, the autograph crowd has been a big draw for the show, and there are now celebrities there for autograph signing very nearly every Saturday. The type of celebrity attending has also changed to include a lot of TV and movie celebrities from the geek crowd. Specifically, as far as Pat and I are concerned, there are a lot of actors from Star Trek and Star Wars. (Several actors from the Harry Potter movies have been there as well.)

At this point in his Star Trek autograph collecting career, Pat needs few of the big stars. We've seen most of them. So, even though yesterday's show featured three of the primary actors from Star Trek: Voyager, we didn't go for their autographs. The big draw was the actor who played Captain Pike in the classic Star Trek series. The second draw was another classic Trek guest star: the woman who played T'Pring, Spock's arranged wife, in one episode. Unfortunately, during the hour we were there, the Captain Pike actor never showed, and, according to Pat, the pictures that the T'Pring actress had with her were all fuzzy and unacceptable. So, we ended up leaving after an hour or so with no autographs.

That is not the reason I am drinking caffeine again.

Joining us for this field trip were Pat's wife, Lisa, and their two daughters, Katie and Jessica. In Rancho Cucamonga we also picked up the sixth member of our team, Dina, a fellow teacher of Pat and Lisa's. Dina is a big fan-girl as Pat and I are fan-boys. In fact, it was Pat and Dina and I who went to the huge Star Wars Celebration convention two years ago. The top spender that day was Dina, who walked out with an enormous tab's worth of Star Wars stuff. Dina is also funny, smart, engaging to talk to, and a beautiful woman who fits easily into the 'California' stereotype. If you passed by her on the street, you wouldn't know she's a nerd at heart! :-P

We adults had been discussing for the past couple months a trip out to San Pedro— to Ports O' Call specifically— to feast on seafood. Over the last week, as Pat and I were planning to make the show run, Lisa decided to turn the day into that talk-about outing as well. So, we all piled in the car after leaving the show and headed out to San Pedro.

Ports O' Call, for those who don't know it, is where the cruise ships dock when they're picking up or dropping off passengers for LA. It is across the harbor from Long Beach, and abuts the seaside town of San Pedro. I love San Pedro! It has maintained a lot of its 60's and 70's beach town charm. Although, now, they are starting to renovate the older parts of downtown. We saw a giant new condo complex stretching up into the sky. I'm sure, if the city planners have their way, you soon will not be able to afford to live anywhere near the city... which is a great pity.

Anyway, in Ports O' Call is a restaurant named the Crusty Crab, which also doubles as fish market. I've discussed the food here before, but I'll go over it again quickly. You can go into the market and get all sorts of fish or other seafood and then take it out to the grill to be cooked, or you can stand in line and order from the grill itself. We choose the latter. You can get fish or shrimp, plate sized or tray sized. By 'tray sized' I mean they take a cafeteria tray, lay a sheet of wax paper across it, and then fill the tray with food. Regardless of whether you order fish or shrimp (or both), the meat is cooked on the grill with a pile of diced potatoes, red and green peppers, and onions. After they dump it on your plate or try, they slap a huge loaf of toasted bread on the top. Several lemon halves are thrown on the tray as well for flavoring.

We all of us love this food! If it weren't 2 hours away, I'm sure we'd be eating there all the time. Well, I certainly would! I stick pretty much to the fish, which is only $9 for the plate, and is far more food than I can eat. They pile on an enormous amount of fish! Yesterday we ordered a tray of shrimp, primarily eaten by Lisa, Dina, and Pat, and a plate of fish for myself. I offered up fish to everyone, but there were no takers except Jessica, who tried a single bite. Their loss! After 45 minutes of steady eating, listening to the strolling mariachis— who will gladly stop to play a song request or 'Happy Birthday' at your table for a tip— and watching seagulls, a sea lion, and a pelican on the dock near our table, we were stuffed. The shrimp tray was stripped clean— cleaner than I'd ever seen before! I was gorged with fish, with piles of it left still on my plate. had we not been planning to spend a few hours in the car on the way home, I might have elected to pile it into a carry-home container for a later meal.

After eating we then strolled through the Ports O' Call area, which is a collection of tourist shops. There is a prominent reggae-themed shop, a big candy store, several shops with cheap imported goods, an art gallery, a few new age stores, etc. Really it's just an excuse for us to walk off some of lunch. The day, by this time, had gone from overcast to mostly sunny. The temperatures were in the high 70's. It was ideal for a pleasant stroll, which we enjoyed for another 45 minutes. The girls had ice cream, and some skirts were purchased.

I suppose, by this time, it was about 2:00 or 2:30 in the afternoon and still I had not had caffeine, enjoying three Sprites with lunch.

After our stroll, we almost always head out to the park at the end of the point on which San Pedro sits. This park features green, green grass and overlooks the ocean. There are frequently kite flyers out there. Lisa asked around if everyone was up to making that our next stop, and I believe it would have been, had she not followed up her own suggestion a moment later by saying, "Or maybe we could go to Venice Beach." That idea seemed to stick. Dina had never been there and, myself, I was up for anything really. So we piled in the car, pushed our way through some afternoon traffic, and an hour later we were at Venice Beach.

Here I'll stop to explain again for those who are not familiar with Venice Beach. Although, this was only my second trip there so I am hardly an expert. Venice Beach is what non-Californians think of when they think of California and the beach. There is an actual sandy beach, ideal for a day out with the family. The beach is a couple hundred feet deep from the surf to the bordering street. Next to the street is the bike path, which zig-zags its way next to route 1 all along southern California's beachfront. The street (which may or may not be route 1 along this particular area, is normally passable by car, but there is a section of the street, about 3/4 of a mile in length, that receives so much foot traffic that it is impassable. During our stay, one of LAPD's finest rolled along the street at a mile or two an hour, continually beeping the siren in order to alert people that it was coming through.

The west side of the street is the beach side, and along this side there are many vendors with temporary or portable stands. In fact, many vendors have only a table or two or just throw a blanket out on which to display their wares. There are many hand-made craftsy items, bracelets, anklets, other cheap jewelry, sketches or other artwork, and so on available. We passed one booth that reeked patchouli and another booth with various insects, scorpions, and spiders set in acrylic. This side of the street also features the famous 'Muscle Beach' workout area, often seen in movies and pictures.

The east side of the street is several blocks of store fronts. The side streets coming off this main street are wide and bright, and the building sides are generally painted in bright colors and interesting designs. One building side has a huge mural "patterned after Van Gogh's Starry Night." The stores themselves are an endless array of tee shirt shops, tattoo and piercing parlors, sunglass vendors, and cheap imported goods. After you pass your dozenth tee shirt shop you wonder how many more of them there could be and whether or not any of them has a unique tee shirt.

Of course, henna artists are everywhere, as are the street performers. We watched a guy spin around in a huge steel hoop, listened to several performers singing along to their guitars as we passed, and even stood and watched for some time a troupe of street acrobats that I dubbed "Cirque Ghetto." The end of that act featured one of the performers leaping over seven or eight children lined up and bowed over. Jessica got to be part of this group. Towards the end of our stroll, we even passed this guy. Don't ask me what he was doing:

We walked up and back down, and when we reached the parking lot where we had parked, Lisa decided to let the girls get their feet wet in the surf. Pat and Dian, and I waited off the sand— none of us had dressed for the beach afterall! When the girls returned, it was close to six o'clock in the evening, and several of us were officially parched.

Wait for it— I was thirsty but not quite ready for caffeine yet!

We all piled back in the car with home as our next destination. It was agreed that we stop on the way home for dinner and/or sodas. After 45 minute or so of driving, we made that stop at In-and-Out. Standing in line behind Pat, waiting to order with him, I cracked. I was so tired and hungry and thirsty! My forehead was red-dish (but not burned), and I was close to complete exhaustion from a day in the sun and wind. I knew I should fill up on Sprite or Seven-Up when I got my cup, but I was weak and I had to go for the Diet Coke. It was all I could think of— and it was good.

So that, dear reader, is why I am drinking caffeine again. Just before I began writing this post today, I popped over to 7-11 for a giant Diet Pepsi!

Until next time!

"Actually, I think all addiction starts with soda. Every junkie did soda first. But no one counts that. Maybe they should. The soda connection is clear. Why isn't a presidential commission looking into this? Or at least some guys from the National Carbonation Council."— Chris Rock