In the spirit of Facebook's latest meme, here now are 25 things you probably didn't know about me:
25) I am allergic to horses, but still I find them to be noble and majestic creatures. Much like Manatees.
24) I played bass in Dire Straights from the years 1984-1986.
23) For years I wore my hair in a high-top fade style, until I saw House Party II and felt like I wasn't properly representing it.
22) In middle school I wrote a sequel to Everyone Poops called, Everyone Occasionally has Diarrhea.
21) My middle name is Elizabeth.
20) As a child, I had an imaginary friend that resembled the Sinclair Dinosaur, but he resented being compared to a gas station mascot, so we rarely discussed it.
19) I can see fourteen minutes into the future if I spin around really fast... counter-clockwise. I know, weird, right?
18) Sometimes at night I wake up screaming, but I always scream: "Here I am, Rock you like a Hurricane!"
17) When hippopotamus are upset, their sweat turns red. This ones not about me, but I thought it was interesting.
16) If I could have one super-power, it would be the ability to take away people's super-powers. If I can't have them, no one will.
15) I have yet to see any evidence that kangaroos exist.
14) In grade school my nickname was "Chompers." This wasn't because of my buckteeth but because I was so good at sports some people called me "Champers," and it was misheard by a few kids who started calling me Chompers... yeah...
13) If I could be anyone, alive or dead or fictional, I would be Richard Simmons; 'cause that guy gets all the chicks.
12) Sometimes I spell "business," "Bisness;" and sometimes I spell "steel," "steal;" but I never spell chrysanthemum wrong.
11) Had I been born a bird, I would teach myself to fly backwards. Then, when people say, "Hey! Look at the bird flying backwards!" I could respond, "Looks like I'm a bird of a different feather!" And we'd all have a good laugh.
10) In college I wrote, my daily assignments in, awkward haiku form.
9) I fain ignorance when asked where the bathroom is, but only when asked in English.
8) Politics confuses me, so years ago I learned everything I could about the Iran-Contra scandal so I had something to talk about at parties... I need to find something more topical.
7) I was the third man on the grassy knoll.
6) With a mustache, I look exactly like Don Cheadle.
5) For a summer I had a job custom painting custom vans. Needless to say, I'm now really good at airbrush-painting breasts and dragons.
4) I have a tattoo on the back of my right knee, and a tattoo on my left shoulder. When they are put side-by-side they reveal the secret location of The Lost City of Atlantis.
3) I never use flour when I cook, but I almost always use flour when I play cribbage.
2) Mini-golf courses around the country have banned me for excessive jubilation and moderate body odor.
1) I am a robot sent from the future. Does anyone know where I can find a boy named "John Connor?"
Friday, January 30, 2009
An Ode to My Former Geekiness
I recently wrote in a newsletter that my New Year's resolution for 2009 is to embrace my inner-geekiness. I've started this process by reading a memoir about a kid growing up in England who's obsessed with Dungeons & Dragons. I've tried recently to read Lord of the Rings, and while I would love to finish it, I'm finding it hard to get through. I think I've just grown too fond of books that are grounded in reality. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, it's just a hindrance in the pursuit to accept the fact that I probably would have played Magic in middle school, if given the opportunity.
I need to buy a new computer, which opens up a whole other dynamic of my as-yet-fully-unleashed nerd-dom. See, when I was in high school I was kind of a computer geek (points already for early adoption!). This was mainly because my dad was really into computers, and at the time it was really chic for guys who didn't play sports to know about computers... so maybe I don't win points. Anyway, I remember a time when everyone knew the speed of their computer processor. I recall a conversation with someone in the hall once where I said the phrase: "300 MB processor? That's just excessive." Now I couldn't even tell you how fast my computer is. All I can tell you about my computer now is that it's shitty, and I need a new one. Thus, I need to buy a computer. I have a vague understanding of what's good to have when buying a computer, but that's counter-acted by the fact that I'm looking at Macs because they're pretty, and play music well... high school Marc would not get along with 25-year-old Marc.
Getting back to my original point, this resolution was spawned on New Year's Eve while watching the first half of the second Lord of the Rings movie. I legitimately enjoyed it like I had never previously allowed myself to. I don't think I'm ever going to remember what those tree people are called, but I might go back and watch the movies again... in HD... then with director's commentary. Or not, who knows?
But this all isn't just to say that I didn't embrace some modicum of geek aptitude. I loved Star Trek in high school, and still do. I used to watch two hours of it every day after school--they played The Next Generation in a two hour block every afternoon at 4:00. I liked Star Trek so much that I collected the trading cards, even though I didn't know how to play the card game that they accompanied. I just treated them like other kids treated baseball cards. I knew all the characters, all the items, and remembered the episodes the cards were from. I got a thrill from going through those card value magazines and watching my "Future Worf" card go up 12 cents. But like I said, I never played the game. I guess that was the line I drew. Distant appreciation without participation.
The truth is, I wonder sometimes if that was my destiny. That sounds overly dramatic. Let's put it this way, I wonder sometimes if that was an identity I would have confided in, where my world could have been passionately revolved around fantastical characters and settings. Later I would have gotten into comic books, and started playing those really exhaustive board games that have story lines, and background information about the characters, and take ten hours to finish. Maybe I would have watched less TV and in turn had an attention span that lasts more than 10 minutes now. Michael Chabon loved comic books, so have a lot of successful authors who credit them with teaching them how to tell a compelling story.
I'm getting off track. Do I have regrets though? No, not at all. I think there are lots of roads we can all go down, whether it be running cross country, or nerding it up in someone's basement, or doing a bunch of drugs and becoming a junkie at the age of 15. For all of the missed opportunities and hours wasted watching Star Trek without fully adopting the culture, I know I gained other opportunities and spent the remainder of my time doing things of a broader scope outside of the realm of Sci-Fi fantasy. Did you know I used to fence? It's true. That's just one of the many odd and varied hobbies I've adopted in the past. And I never would have ever done that had I developed a singularly-focused affinity for this one type of past time.
An argument can be made that the level of satisfaction is equal if not greater when you're keyed into one specific thing like fantasy gaming; or baking; or learning awesome ninja skills, but that just wasn't for me. I could list several factors that I think kept me from choosing one particular thing, but the truth is, it was my decision to keep a high-level view of all those types of things--that just fit my personality.
It fit my personality like the Mithril shirt recovered from the dragon Smaug and given to Bilbo Baggins by Thorin Oakenshield. Bam!
I need to buy a new computer, which opens up a whole other dynamic of my as-yet-fully-unleashed nerd-dom. See, when I was in high school I was kind of a computer geek (points already for early adoption!). This was mainly because my dad was really into computers, and at the time it was really chic for guys who didn't play sports to know about computers... so maybe I don't win points. Anyway, I remember a time when everyone knew the speed of their computer processor. I recall a conversation with someone in the hall once where I said the phrase: "300 MB processor? That's just excessive." Now I couldn't even tell you how fast my computer is. All I can tell you about my computer now is that it's shitty, and I need a new one. Thus, I need to buy a computer. I have a vague understanding of what's good to have when buying a computer, but that's counter-acted by the fact that I'm looking at Macs because they're pretty, and play music well... high school Marc would not get along with 25-year-old Marc.
Getting back to my original point, this resolution was spawned on New Year's Eve while watching the first half of the second Lord of the Rings movie. I legitimately enjoyed it like I had never previously allowed myself to. I don't think I'm ever going to remember what those tree people are called, but I might go back and watch the movies again... in HD... then with director's commentary. Or not, who knows?
But this all isn't just to say that I didn't embrace some modicum of geek aptitude. I loved Star Trek in high school, and still do. I used to watch two hours of it every day after school--they played The Next Generation in a two hour block every afternoon at 4:00. I liked Star Trek so much that I collected the trading cards, even though I didn't know how to play the card game that they accompanied. I just treated them like other kids treated baseball cards. I knew all the characters, all the items, and remembered the episodes the cards were from. I got a thrill from going through those card value magazines and watching my "Future Worf" card go up 12 cents. But like I said, I never played the game. I guess that was the line I drew. Distant appreciation without participation.
The truth is, I wonder sometimes if that was my destiny. That sounds overly dramatic. Let's put it this way, I wonder sometimes if that was an identity I would have confided in, where my world could have been passionately revolved around fantastical characters and settings. Later I would have gotten into comic books, and started playing those really exhaustive board games that have story lines, and background information about the characters, and take ten hours to finish. Maybe I would have watched less TV and in turn had an attention span that lasts more than 10 minutes now. Michael Chabon loved comic books, so have a lot of successful authors who credit them with teaching them how to tell a compelling story.
I'm getting off track. Do I have regrets though? No, not at all. I think there are lots of roads we can all go down, whether it be running cross country, or nerding it up in someone's basement, or doing a bunch of drugs and becoming a junkie at the age of 15. For all of the missed opportunities and hours wasted watching Star Trek without fully adopting the culture, I know I gained other opportunities and spent the remainder of my time doing things of a broader scope outside of the realm of Sci-Fi fantasy. Did you know I used to fence? It's true. That's just one of the many odd and varied hobbies I've adopted in the past. And I never would have ever done that had I developed a singularly-focused affinity for this one type of past time.
An argument can be made that the level of satisfaction is equal if not greater when you're keyed into one specific thing like fantasy gaming; or baking; or learning awesome ninja skills, but that just wasn't for me. I could list several factors that I think kept me from choosing one particular thing, but the truth is, it was my decision to keep a high-level view of all those types of things--that just fit my personality.
It fit my personality like the Mithril shirt recovered from the dragon Smaug and given to Bilbo Baggins by Thorin Oakenshield. Bam!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
An Open Letter To My Old Web Address
So I let "marcinthecity.com" expire. It was a clear symbol of my neglect for the blog and I took it as such. I actually tried to renew it (it's only $10/year), but godaddy.com was acting all weird and wasn't working, so I said "F this, I'm going solo!" I actually said that, in my bedroom, all by myself... and with exactly the kind of zealous bravado you would expect from someone who says "F this, I'm going solo!" alone in their bedroom.
I just finished watching every episode of The L Word, seasons 3 up to the present (season 6, episode 1). It was a dramatic roller-coaster of a weekend. It occurred to me that maybe I like TV so much because my life is so boring, so in relation, instead of living my own boring life I can vicariously live through the most dramatic and exciting parts of 7 other people's lives! I guess that's exactly the kind of escapism TV hits at, and I'm not ashamed to say that I fall for it every time.
I only left my apartment this weekend to go shopping and rent DVDs. The good people at Videology know my as "that sad guy who is obsessed with The L Word." Maybe they think I'm renting it and watching it in bed all weekend with a significant other, or something--and give me the benefit of the doubt for being a romantic, and not a shut-in. Sadly, I am the latter, not the former.
And I think I have an ear infection. Who, over the age of six, gets an ear infection? Apparently Marc in the City.
I went grocery shopping for the third time this weekend at an upscale natural food store and it made me feel like an adult. I bought some of those soups that come in boxes, and soy milk, and wasabe edamame and prunes and almonds in those little over-priced plastic containers. The guy behind the counter was wearing these hilarious D&G sunglasses that read "D&G" in big gold letters on the side. He was otherwise all greezy, and swinger-y, and I got the impression he was the sun of a wealthy oil baron in the middle east who was forced to come to America because his lavish lifestyle of excess kept embarrassing the family in Dubai. So he packed up his horrible Gucci, print shirts and flew to Brooklyn, where he found work at a little over-priced grocery store. Who knows.
I took a nap at 5: 30 and woke up around 9:00. I guess I needed a break from all my intense loafing. It's weird, you know, how you watch all that TV and get so wrapped up in the lives of these characters and then suddenly you have to exercise some restraint and wait until the next episode is released. Then the series is over (The L Word is on its last season now, just started). It's times like these when I think I should have gone into television writing. I read all the time, but I wasn't a bookworm growing up. TV was my sibling for god sake. Whatever, we'll see where life takes me. You know, I just don't want to be one of those people with the "good job" who never really does anything significant.
And, of course, that's all relative, you know? Like, I've already done lots of things that a few people think are significant (that I won't list here because that would be super lame), but there isn't an over-arching sort of track for accomplishment, you know? Even Ivy-league school attenders and doctors and whatever, they're just members of a big elite club, but it's still a club with thousands of faceless members.
I was looking at plane ticket prices on Expedia today, thinking about taking some kind of vacation (I haven't taken a real, vacation for vacation-sake since I was a Sophomore in high school). Incidentally, my family NEVER went on vacations when I was a kid, which is fine, I just find that people think that's weird so I thought I'd mention it. Anyway, I kept finding these package vacation deals that were, like, $500 for flight and 4 nights in a hotel at some local, and I thought "Hey, that's a really great idea." But then I thought, "no, wait a second, I don't want my vacation to be packaged up and marketed so easily to me." It has a certain drone quality, like some marketing team is like, "We will create this fun place, X number of people will go. If we get Z number of consumers to attend we make Y profit." It seems devoid of any kind of personal fulfillment. Like those Club Meds (are those even still around?), or cruise ships. I hate the idea of cruise ships, by the way. I can see how they're fun, but something about being on a boat in the middle of no where with all the amenities of a crazy vacation to enjoy doesn't seem fun to me. I'd rather find what I want on land, go somewhere interesting, and not deal with a bunch of tourists that make me feel like I'm on the "Fun version of New York" floating in the middle of the ocean, floating on the ship among an ocean of the faceless brood I see every. single. fucking. day. in. the. city. Only this time they're wearing lays.
Maybe I'll go to LA. LA, for all my bitching about thinking it's phony, and dry, and kind of ugly, it's always held this sort of mystical, promised land quality for me. Maybe because that's where all the entertainment I obsess over is created. Maybe because it's the west coast, so I know everything will be brand new and comfortable. Maybe I just like the freedom to by a jug of Early Times in the grocery store (and get a Ralph's discount on it, no less). Maybe I miss warm weather, and seeing colors other than grey (even though LA is just orange, if I remember correctly).
I've been trying to write lately but shit got real about a week ago and I haven't felt like it. I've got about 100 pages of a first draft finished, but whenever I read it I feel like I need to fix it before I move on. I'd be too embarrassed to let anyone read it in the state it's in now. First drafts are meant to be bad, but every time I read one of my first drafts I'm convinced anyone reading it would think I'm a hack. Not even a hack, but someone who doesn't deserve a degree in writing. And for all the appendices you make for the bad-ness of a first draft, they can't make up for the actual quality of the writing. I learned a long time ago no one gives a shit about what you say, it's what you do that means anything to anyone. Maybe that's why I keep moving. Because there's no surer sign of moving forward than moving hundreds of miles away.
But hey, how about I just step back, take that vacation I was talking about, and re-assess. These Cheez-its are getting to my head and I'm in serial drama withdrawals. We'll talk more later.
-Marc
I just finished watching every episode of The L Word, seasons 3 up to the present (season 6, episode 1). It was a dramatic roller-coaster of a weekend. It occurred to me that maybe I like TV so much because my life is so boring, so in relation, instead of living my own boring life I can vicariously live through the most dramatic and exciting parts of 7 other people's lives! I guess that's exactly the kind of escapism TV hits at, and I'm not ashamed to say that I fall for it every time.
I only left my apartment this weekend to go shopping and rent DVDs. The good people at Videology know my as "that sad guy who is obsessed with The L Word." Maybe they think I'm renting it and watching it in bed all weekend with a significant other, or something--and give me the benefit of the doubt for being a romantic, and not a shut-in. Sadly, I am the latter, not the former.
And I think I have an ear infection. Who, over the age of six, gets an ear infection? Apparently Marc in the City.
I went grocery shopping for the third time this weekend at an upscale natural food store and it made me feel like an adult. I bought some of those soups that come in boxes, and soy milk, and wasabe edamame and prunes and almonds in those little over-priced plastic containers. The guy behind the counter was wearing these hilarious D&G sunglasses that read "D&G" in big gold letters on the side. He was otherwise all greezy, and swinger-y, and I got the impression he was the sun of a wealthy oil baron in the middle east who was forced to come to America because his lavish lifestyle of excess kept embarrassing the family in Dubai. So he packed up his horrible Gucci, print shirts and flew to Brooklyn, where he found work at a little over-priced grocery store. Who knows.
I took a nap at 5: 30 and woke up around 9:00. I guess I needed a break from all my intense loafing. It's weird, you know, how you watch all that TV and get so wrapped up in the lives of these characters and then suddenly you have to exercise some restraint and wait until the next episode is released. Then the series is over (The L Word is on its last season now, just started). It's times like these when I think I should have gone into television writing. I read all the time, but I wasn't a bookworm growing up. TV was my sibling for god sake. Whatever, we'll see where life takes me. You know, I just don't want to be one of those people with the "good job" who never really does anything significant.
And, of course, that's all relative, you know? Like, I've already done lots of things that a few people think are significant (that I won't list here because that would be super lame), but there isn't an over-arching sort of track for accomplishment, you know? Even Ivy-league school attenders and doctors and whatever, they're just members of a big elite club, but it's still a club with thousands of faceless members.
I was looking at plane ticket prices on Expedia today, thinking about taking some kind of vacation (I haven't taken a real, vacation for vacation-sake since I was a Sophomore in high school). Incidentally, my family NEVER went on vacations when I was a kid, which is fine, I just find that people think that's weird so I thought I'd mention it. Anyway, I kept finding these package vacation deals that were, like, $500 for flight and 4 nights in a hotel at some local, and I thought "Hey, that's a really great idea." But then I thought, "no, wait a second, I don't want my vacation to be packaged up and marketed so easily to me." It has a certain drone quality, like some marketing team is like, "We will create this fun place, X number of people will go. If we get Z number of consumers to attend we make Y profit." It seems devoid of any kind of personal fulfillment. Like those Club Meds (are those even still around?), or cruise ships. I hate the idea of cruise ships, by the way. I can see how they're fun, but something about being on a boat in the middle of no where with all the amenities of a crazy vacation to enjoy doesn't seem fun to me. I'd rather find what I want on land, go somewhere interesting, and not deal with a bunch of tourists that make me feel like I'm on the "Fun version of New York" floating in the middle of the ocean, floating on the ship among an ocean of the faceless brood I see every. single. fucking. day. in. the. city. Only this time they're wearing lays.
Maybe I'll go to LA. LA, for all my bitching about thinking it's phony, and dry, and kind of ugly, it's always held this sort of mystical, promised land quality for me. Maybe because that's where all the entertainment I obsess over is created. Maybe because it's the west coast, so I know everything will be brand new and comfortable. Maybe I just like the freedom to by a jug of Early Times in the grocery store (and get a Ralph's discount on it, no less). Maybe I miss warm weather, and seeing colors other than grey (even though LA is just orange, if I remember correctly).
I've been trying to write lately but shit got real about a week ago and I haven't felt like it. I've got about 100 pages of a first draft finished, but whenever I read it I feel like I need to fix it before I move on. I'd be too embarrassed to let anyone read it in the state it's in now. First drafts are meant to be bad, but every time I read one of my first drafts I'm convinced anyone reading it would think I'm a hack. Not even a hack, but someone who doesn't deserve a degree in writing. And for all the appendices you make for the bad-ness of a first draft, they can't make up for the actual quality of the writing. I learned a long time ago no one gives a shit about what you say, it's what you do that means anything to anyone. Maybe that's why I keep moving. Because there's no surer sign of moving forward than moving hundreds of miles away.
But hey, how about I just step back, take that vacation I was talking about, and re-assess. These Cheez-its are getting to my head and I'm in serial drama withdrawals. We'll talk more later.
-Marc
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
No, Songsmith... No.
I haven't read Gawker in a while, so I decided to check up before going to bed tonight and found this truly wretched commercial made by Microsoft. It's to promote a new software program called "Songsmith" and the ad is so terrible I'm actually angry now. Seriously, I'm angry that this was made and people spent money on this, I'm angry that the person who approved this entire project along the way probably gets paid ten times what I do, and I'm furious at how unbelievably out of touch a company with such bountiful resources has once again proved they can be. Honestly, what the shit is going on over there? I'm not an advertising person, but I'm not a film producer either but I know Howard the Duck was bad. I don't even want to post the link to the commercial, but if you don't see it you'll just think I'm being irrational. That said, here is the 4 minutes and change reason that I am going to bed angry tonight. Seriously, I'm in a bad place right now, Microsoft, and it's all your fault. It's a similar feeling to that of when I heard NBC's boy genius (wild sarcasm), Ben Silverman, was bringing back remakes of both Knight Rider and The Bionic Woman... NBC, Microsoft... you're on notice.
http://gawker.com/5130701/microsoft-ad-and-product-advertised-could-both-conceivably-make-you-want-to-kill-your-family
http://gawker.com/5130701/microsoft-ad-and-product-advertised-could-both-conceivably-make-you-want-to-kill-your-family
Sunday, January 4, 2009
The Karate Kid
Quick thoughts on the Karate Kid trilogy before the NyQuil kicks in, which could be any minute.
1) The girl in the third movie gets kicked in the stomach by a bunch of psychos who break into "Mr. Miyagi's Little Trees" shop and attack Michael. Though it's awful enough that she gets kicked at all, things are made worse/more non-sensical when she keeps hanging out with Daniel! Later in the movie she is almost left in a canyon to drown, almost tossed off a rock face into said canyon onto rocks, accosted by a sleezy dude in a club, and probably several other things I'm forgetting.
2) And while we're talking about the female supporting characters in the series, Elizabeth Shue fails to make an appearance past the first movie! Sure, that's fine, but the way the writers get rid of her is just so sudden and strange that it completely undermines her role in the first movie. Apparently she borrows Daniel's car, wrecks it, then tells him she's fallen in love with a football player... what? Wow, strong conviction of character. Another thing I think is fascinating about Elizabeth Shue is that she's gotten more and more beautiful as she'd gotten older. Seriously, I get that the 80s style is probably unconsciously dissuading me, but still, Shue is so much better looking 20 years later in Leaving Las Vegas and Hamlet 2.
3) Starting to get drowsy, so I'll wrap up here. The endings of the movies are so sudden. At the end of the third (the TRILOGY ending, mind you), Daniel wins the karate championship and the screen goes to black. What happened to the rich bad guy with the nuclear waste dumping business (really, that character really exists). I expected, with all his obvious law-breaking, he would have been arrested at the end. I guess if you add cops to the plot of the Karate Kid movies nothing really makes sense anymore. Shoot, seriously though, give me some Afterward!
1) The girl in the third movie gets kicked in the stomach by a bunch of psychos who break into "Mr. Miyagi's Little Trees" shop and attack Michael. Though it's awful enough that she gets kicked at all, things are made worse/more non-sensical when she keeps hanging out with Daniel! Later in the movie she is almost left in a canyon to drown, almost tossed off a rock face into said canyon onto rocks, accosted by a sleezy dude in a club, and probably several other things I'm forgetting.
2) And while we're talking about the female supporting characters in the series, Elizabeth Shue fails to make an appearance past the first movie! Sure, that's fine, but the way the writers get rid of her is just so sudden and strange that it completely undermines her role in the first movie. Apparently she borrows Daniel's car, wrecks it, then tells him she's fallen in love with a football player... what? Wow, strong conviction of character. Another thing I think is fascinating about Elizabeth Shue is that she's gotten more and more beautiful as she'd gotten older. Seriously, I get that the 80s style is probably unconsciously dissuading me, but still, Shue is so much better looking 20 years later in Leaving Las Vegas and Hamlet 2.
3) Starting to get drowsy, so I'll wrap up here. The endings of the movies are so sudden. At the end of the third (the TRILOGY ending, mind you), Daniel wins the karate championship and the screen goes to black. What happened to the rich bad guy with the nuclear waste dumping business (really, that character really exists). I expected, with all his obvious law-breaking, he would have been arrested at the end. I guess if you add cops to the plot of the Karate Kid movies nothing really makes sense anymore. Shoot, seriously though, give me some Afterward!
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