Category Archives: Jesse

Home Run Derby: The Next Generation

When me and my chums were in high school, we would spend a few choice nights of the Spring, Summer and Fall in my Mom’s backyard playing Homerun Derby with a big red bat and a plastic baseball.

Homerun Derby was a double elimination tournament that consisted of a series of 9 inning games between two opponents. Anything besides a homerun was an out.

While the other gladiators awaited their turn in the arena, they sat on my Mom’s deck munching on the goodness that is Casey’s pizza.

If memory serves me, I won the first Homerun Derby, but never again tasted the sweet nectar of victory.

While my booming blasts are the stuff of legend, (I’m certain that I once knocked a ball all the way to Carroll Street) Homerun Derby was more a game of precision.

There were numerous low hanging branches from the walnut tree and some of the neighbor’s trees that knocked down balls that were hit “too high”. Of course many a low line drive, that would have easily escaped the unfriendly confines of anywhere else in Bennett Field, were knocked harmlessly to the ground by the Green Monster in rightfield. Plus, towering above the Green Monster was a basketball backboard that knocked more than its fair share of dingers back into the outfield and turned the glory of going yard into just another out. Slightly more dramatic than a grounder back to the pitcher, but as far as the scoreboard was concerned, it was the same thing.

It was Willy’s sweet lefthanded stroke that usually won the night. His line drive swing seemed custom made to avoid the obstacles that brought many a hard hit shot harmlessly back to the ground inside the wooden fence that marked the playing field.

While it might seem like a juvenile enough activity, it was important enough to our ascent into manhood that when my Mom moved from the dilapidated structure on Greene Street to her current home on South Benton that we got as much of the old gang back together as we could and had a reunion Homerun Derby.

My legendary blasts were not enough for me to score a victory on my homefield. Willy’s sweet compact line drive swing failed him on this evening as well. Jay’s notoriously crafty pitching (that once earned him the moniker Dr. K) also couldn’t guide him to the winner’s circle. Jesse took home what might be the final Homerun Derby crown of our lives on that night.

It could even be said that Jesse’s performance in the ballpark, on that night, was in the ballpark of dominant. Bennett Field and Homerun Derby legend holds that you only get “Randy’s Meat” once a game, but on this night it seemed like Jesse was getting Randy’s Meat 10-12 times a game.

I don’t want you to leave this entry thinking that Homerun Derby wasn’t serious business. We even had our own set of trading cards, although I think only Jesse’s card survives. Although I just got a “great” idea for another Personal Photo Project.


IMAGE LOST
Apparently Jay’s thought Jesse should spell his name like a girl.

Recently Faust and Jackson came over to what I guess is the current incarnation of Bennett Field. Less like Fenway and more like Wrigley. I went into the magical green trunk of sports equipment and produced a big red bat and some plastic baseballs.

I don’t know if Jesse is officially retired from Homerun Derby, but if he isn’t, I think Jackson might be coming for his title.


Home Run Derby: The Next Generation

Home Run Derby: The Next Generation

Home Run Derby: The Next Generation

Home Run Derby: The Next Generation

Home Run Derby: The Next Generation

Home Run Derby: The Next Generation

Home Run Derby: The Next Generation

Home Run Derby: The Next Generation

I don’t know if it is because the old champ could hear the smack of the bat or smell the pine tar in the air, but a few minutes after the Fausts left he showed up to have his picture taken.

These shirts were given to the winner and loser of the Computer Mine NCAA Tournament Pool.


Home Run Derby: The Next Generation
Winner

Home Run Derby: The Next Generation
Loser

No word yet on whether there will be a special Jackson vs. Jesse exhibition match in the future. I say clear off a cornfield halfway between Boone and Mankato and lets get this thing going!

3Peat

“This is the end,

Beautiful friend,

This is the end,

Of our elaborate plans, the end,

Of everything that stands, the end,

No safety or surprise, the end.”

– The Doors (The End)

Another college basketball season has come to an end. It is a sad, sad day. At least it is only 11 days to Iowa State’s Spring Football Game. 11 long days!

The end of another college basketball season means it is time to crown the champion of year 6 of the Roundball Oracles tournament pool.

This is beginning to sound like a broken record, but a few years back Pat Riley was man enough to patent the word 3peat.  What he wasn’t man enough to do is actually 3peat. He came up woefully short in his attempt to win a 3rd straight championship.

Mark Wolfram is not Pat Riley. Mark Wolfram was man enough to be crowned the Roundball Oracles Champion for the 3rd straight year.  It was a little embarrassing when a guy living in Taiwan won the first time.  Even more embarrassing when he repeated last year. I’m not sure if there are words to express how embarrassing it is that he won for a third straight year.

Hopefully next year somebody will step up and snatch that crown off of his head.  Could be you! Could be me! Although I’ll have to rebound from an extremely pathetic performance this year. At least I finished third and won ten bucks in the pool at work.

The Final Standings

1. Mark Wolfram (Taiwan Hoops) – 81 points

2. Nader Parsaei (Charlie Chaplin) – 79 points

3. Dawn Krause (Dawn’s Dunkin’ Dribblers) – 75 points

4. Frank Meiners (Frank’s Picks) – 73 points

4. Corey Faust (Always Go Top Shelf) – 73 points

6. Dan Dill (dan) – 71 points

7. Jason Baier (JLB) – 70 points

8. Robert Henning (Shot In The Dark) – 67 points

9. Nate Buckingham (Wade Lookingbill Allstars) – 65 points

9. Tim Peterson (Dominate Monkey) – 65 points

9. Linda Toot (JWB) – 65 points

12 – Derrick Gorshe (Derrick) – 63 points

13 – Jesse Howard (ISU Yes McDermott No) – 62 points

14 – Becky Perkovich (A169032477) – 61 points

15 – Corey Schmidt (TakeIt2ThaHole) – 58 points

15. Toby Sebring (Lickliter Is Out!) – 58 points

17. Russell Kennerly (i’m also transferring greg) 57 points

18. Christopher D. Bennett (I See Things) – 56 points

19. Jon DeWaard (Lono’s bracket) – 54 points

20. Bill Wentworth (Bill’s Bracket) – 53 points

21. Carrie Baier (Couragers) – 52 points

21 competitors was a new Roundball Oracles record for participants.  4 female competitors was a record for female competitors!

I am hopeful that next year, both of those records will be broken.

The Story

“You see the smile that’s on my mouth
It’s hiding the words that don’t come out
And all of my friends who think that I’m blessed
They don’t know my head is a mess.  

No, they don’t know who I really am
And they don’t know what I’ve been through
like you do.”  

-Brandi Carlile (The Story)  

Most people know that I am a loner. I keep to myself mostly. Most nights I can be found sitting home alone working on my studies or my projects or watching my shows.  

A couple of years ago Jay decided to give one of his friends the nickname “Lone Wolf”. I was quite shocked when this nickname did not come my way. Instead it was given to the social butterfly and vice-mayor William McAlpine.  

I knew this was a dreaded mistake. If there was a member of the animal kingdom that best described Willy’s social agenda it was clearly the salmon. Chinook, steelhead, pink or sockeye. I’m not sure which one, but he is definitely a salmon.  

However, I made  peace with the slight because I don’t have a particular affinity for nicknames.  

Then it happened. Jay came to his senses and stripped Willy of the nickname that he did not deserve and placed it squarely on my shoulders. The true loner.  

Jay made me a mask and we had a small ceremony where the title was rightfully transferred to me.  


The Story
I AM LONE WOLF!

However, something hasn’t sat right with me in the few weeks since I became Lone Wolf. I don’t doubt that I am the Lone Wolf. A quick perusal of my social calendar shows that I do little more than go to work and come home and sit on my couch, alone.  

I don’t get many emails. I don’t write many emails. I don’t get many calls. I don’t make many calls. I don’t get many texts. I don’t send many texts.  

I have 289 Facebook Friends. Not a single one of them can tell you my favorite color, my favorite movie, my favorite show or my favorite musician.  

With apologies to Travis Bickle, “Loneliness has followed me my whole life. Everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There’s no escape. I’m God’s lonely man…”  

I’ve learned to embrace this loneliness. In fact, Jill introduced me to a movie called World’s Greatest Dad. The core message of the movie is summed up near the end with the following voice over:  

“I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up all alone. It’s not. The worst thing in life is ending up with people who make you feel all alone.”  

That is my philosophy. Or I should say, that is the philosophy of The Lone Wolf.  

But even though I know without the foggiest doubt that I am the true Lone Wolf, it didn’t feel right. Jay unilaterally stripping Willy of his moniker and giving it away. That is a lot of power for one man to possess.  

Therefore I am giving Willy a chance to win back his nickname. I have challenged the vice-mayor, the social butterfly, the salmon to a Lone-Wolf-Off!  

The month of April will be a Lone-Wolf-Off between the true Lone Wolf and the Salmon. Winner gets the name! (But I keep the sweet mask either way!)  

What is a Lone-Wolf-Off? For the entire month of April we will be tracking our social engagements. At the end of the month, an impartial panel (consisting of Jesse, Dawn and Faust) will determine who is the true Lone Wolf.  

Therefore, I should point out that for the next 30 days, don’t be distressed if you don’t see me, if I don’t return your emails, phone calls or texts. I’m in full Lone Wolf mode. I will most likely return your correspondence on May 1 when I am celebrating International Worker’s Day!  

Although I should point out that at some point in April many of you will be getting an invitation to my birthday barbecue in the mail. It is a well known fact that lone wolves like meat cooked over a fire and the antiquated feeling of using the United State Postal Service.  

Last night I went to see Chloe and have dinner with Sara. Since it was my last social engagement for the next 30 days, we took a few pictures to celebrate my Lone Wolfness. 


The Story
The Lone Wolf is a savage beast.

The Story
Insane Enough

The Story
But the Lone Wolf also knows how to keep it laid back. 

The Story
The Lone Wolf – confident, but not cocky.

The Story
Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwl!!


On a sidenote, since this seems to be the year of nickname stripping, I also think that Willy is also in extreme danger of losing the nickname The Dance Machine.
Jen and Jill can assuredly attest to the following statement:
On Sunday, Derrick set my living room carpet on fire with the dance moves he busted off to the Norah Jones compact disc that was playing on my home stereo.  

I would propose a Dance Machine Off between these two gents, but I think we all know that Willy doesn’t really dance. He just likes to pretend that he does.

RWPE #11 – Motion

This week we have a first time contributor in my sister Carla.  She did break the one and only rule of RWPE (the picture has to be taken the week of the project) but I’ll let it slide since it was her birthday last week.

This week’s submissions:


WEEK 11 - MOTION - MIKE VEST
Michael Vest

IMAGE LOST
Carla Stensland

IMAGE LOST
Dawn Krause

IMAGE LOST
Becky Perkovich

IMAGE LOST
Julie Johnson (In Flight)

WEEK 11 - MOTION - CHRISTOPHER D. BENNETT
Christopher D. Bennett

Although as a general rule I don’t like to comment on my RWPE, I will point out this time that this picture is completely motivated by the fact that Stephanie Kasper would be abnormally freaked out by it.

Julie has started a blog and I wanted to include a link to her blog so you can enjoy much more of her photography, writing and just general Julieness. For those of you that are like me and can’t get enough Julie Johnson (despite being treated for the medical condition) click on the link below:

The Joy is in the Journey

Dawn’s Weekly Poem

Motion

The tenderness you want to convey
Revealed itself in your words today
It beckons me to come out to play
But lingers for you to lead the way

Why don’t you put your plan in motion
And show me your secure devotion
Seduce my mind with romantic notion
Your signal is that magic potion

The theme for this week is:

SIGNS

Hopefully we continue to get lots of contributors. This is a fairly accessible subject, but of course there is no reason to be literal. There are all sorts of different kinds of signs in the world. Maybe the CEO of the William McAlpine Excuse Factory will even grace us with a contribution.

For those who had the same idea that I had, I looked it up. Tesla isn’t touring right now. Darn the luck.  I guess I’ll have to look for another subject that will be “blocking out the scenery, breaking my mind. Do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the sign.”

A Clockwork Couch

In the last couple of weeks I have been making huge organizational changes to my basement. However, other parts of the house have also seen wholesale changes. I recently changed out the white table my Aunt Linda gave me for a 10 foot long workbench to act as the entertainment center in my living room. I also purchased a new couch and loveseat. To further augment my living room experience, I have made my rear speakers wireless and now I no longer have to worry about hiding the wiring for the rear speakers under the rug.

Have a look:


A Clockwork Couch
Living Room Changes

As you can see from this picture, these new changes to the living room make my weekly ritualistic viewing of A Clockwork Orange much more enjoyable.

The new couch and loveseat are undeniably real horrorshow. I think that they will increase the comfort of my droogs when they come over to see how the colors of the real world only seem real when they viddy them on a screen. The couch is comfortable for sleeping, so I can take a nap when I have something of a pain in the gulliver. Comfortable enough that I might not awaken when I give orders for awakening. I shouldn’t think on that much though.  Thinking is for the gloopy ones and the oomny ones use like, inspiration and what Bog sends.

Now that the speakers are in the proper place, the surround sound sounds a million times better. I don’t have any problem approaching anybody and asking: “What you got back home, little sister, to play your fuzzy warbles on? I bet you got little save pitiful portable picnic players. Come with uncle and hear all proper! Hear angel trumpets and devil trombones. You are invited.” When I have a wonderful evening and I need to give it a perfect ending with a little Ludwig Van it will be bliss! Bliss and heaven! Gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh. A bird of rarest-spun metal or like silver wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense. As I slooshie, I will know such lovely pictures!

If my droogs Jay and Jesse try to wrestle on the new furniture while waiting for me to get ready to hit the Korova milkbar and a night of the ultra-violence, I will have no problem smacking them with my cane. If they ask why I did that, I will tell them calmly “For being a bastard with no manners, and not a dook of an idea how to comport yourself public-wise, O my brother.”

If they tell me: “Yarbles! Great bolshy yarblockos to you. I’ll meet you with chain or nozh or britva anytime, not having you aim tolchocks at me reasonless. Well it stand to reason I won’t have it.”

I will tell them, “A nozh scrap any time you say. But not near my new couch and loveseat. They are real horrorshow.”

Of course they will back down and say they need to go home and get a bit of spatchka.

After all, I have to protect my new couch and loveseat. To not do so, I would suffer the tortures of the damned, sir – tortures of the damned.

Goodness is something to be chosen. When a man cannot choose he ceases to be a man.

Final NCAA Bracket Chance

Today is your final chance to sign up to be embarrassed by me and my extensive college basketball knowledge in The Roundball Oracles NCAA Tournament Pool. So far 14 people have signed up for the free lesson in humility. 2 of them women! This isn’t a “boys club”. If you have an interest in participating, email me at: bennett@photography139.com and I will see that you get all the necessary information.

L.A. Story

Many of you know Nader’s story. It is an amazing story, but the thing I always have the hardest problem believing is that while he was being held as a political prisoner in an Iranian prison he could be happy that Henry Fonda won an Oscar.

I’m pretty sure that if I was held in prison for 6.5 years without the benefit of a trial and constantly under the threat of execution I could care less who won an Oscar.

Nader recently made a trip out to L.A. while the Oscars were going down. Here are a few of his pictures from the trip.


Nader's Trip to L.A.
Hollywood

Nader's Trip to L.A.
Kodak Theater

Nader's Trip to L.A.
Nader with Leonard Maltin

Nader's Trip to L.A.
Nader and his favorite – Charlie Chaplin

Nader's Trip to L.A.
Nader and Mary Hart

Nader's Trip to L.A.a>
Inside the Kodak Theater

Nader's Trip to L.A.
Nader with the Oscar Statues from the ceremony. The day after the Oscars.

Nader's Trip to L.A.
The Star of Funny Face.

Nader's Trip to L.A.
Star of West Side Story

Nader's Trip to L.A.
The room where the fist Oscars was held.

Nader's Trip to L.A.
The hotel where the first Academy Awards was held.

Nader did not get to see the Oscars up close and personal. He visited the Kodak Theater a couple of days before the Oscars and tried to talk to a guy that Jesse knows, but that only resulted in a long conversation (interrogation) with a member of the security team.

NCAA Tournament Reminder

If you want to enter the Roundball Oracles NCAA basketball pool email me at bennett@photography139.com and I will send you the requisite information. No money is required to enter and basketball knowledge is hardly necessary either. This has been proven by many people over the years.

Biography Challenge

I’m doing a small amount of pro bono photo work for a local community theater group. Apparently I have to write a small bio for the program. This is what I’ve come up with so far:

Christopher D. Bennett is making his debut to the world. Before this moment he has lived in a cave outside of Boone, Iowa and subsisted on his foraging skills. He has most recently been involved in theater by sitting in one and watching movies, but being sure to sound pretentious enough by constantly referring to it as “the cinema”. As if referring to himself as Christopher D. Bennett didn’t make him pretentious sounding enough. It is also his great fear that being involved in this production will undermine his authority to make fun of people involved in Community Theater. Christopher does not enjoy being a Jaycee, but thankfully that dreaded curse has almost come to an end. He is the Vice-President of the Boone United Methodist Men, a job that comes with zero responsibility. That is considered a perk as Christopher comes from a generation that is fearful of responsibility and garlic. Christopher works at a computer mine in southeast Ames where his greatest fear is contracting the dreaded silicon lung. Christopher enjoys spending time with Shannon Bardole’s cat Franklin, but not necessarily Shannon Bardole. She gets crabby when she is tired or hungry. Christopher is also feared on playgrounds and gymnasiums around this nation for his unstoppable crossover dribble, unlimited shooting range, tenacious rebounding and lock down defense. There is no truth to any rumors that he starred in a series of “After Dark” films under the name “Hammer”. However, there is much veracity in the oft told legends of his numerous facial hair experiments.

If you can come up with something better or think that I need to modify or add something, place your suggestions in the comments section of this journal entry.

Thanks!

Also, if you could tell me what my favorite game show is, that would be great as well.

Punch Myself in the Face

I had decided to shave all the way down to a dirty naked face last weekend. It had been over 3 years since my chin had tasted air and felt the rays of sunlight. My chin was dreadfully dry and desperately in the need of some moisturizing. Lots and lots of moisturizing.

For some reason, I allowed myself to be sold by Jesse on shaving down to just a moustache for one glorious day. Despite my better judgment, I did it.

On Thursday night I spent close to an hour in the bathroom slowly trimming my beautiful goat down to a dirty stache. When I had completed my task, I had to make a conscious effort to stop myself from punching my reflection. I hated that dirty stache.

Although I had stayed up well past my normal bedtime to complete this mission from the devil, I couldn’t sleep at all. I knew that I had violated the natural order of things.

I showed up for work the following day and tried to avoid everybody. Well, I did stop to see Micky. He deserved to see the stache since he has been a rock for me in the Busted Furnace Support Group that we have with Vest every few days.

Jesse showed up at work about an hour after I did. He was still sporting a splendid goat. I felt that I had been had, but he showed me his clippers. He went to the restroom and came back looking like the same type of doucher that I looked like.


Punch Myself in the Face

Punch Myself in the Face

After taking those pictures of Jesse looking so wretched. I allowed myself to be photographed in this horrible state.


Punch Myself in the Face

As I was posing for this picture, the World’s Greatest UPS Man came in with his daily delivery. He seemed to enjoy how wretched I looked.


Punch Myself in the Face

Then Jesse and I posed for a picture.

I have known Jesse since I moved from unannexed Boone to Urban Boone and enrolled in Mrs. Ford’s 2nd Grade Class. Over the years we have posed for many a photo together. But I have not a doubt in my mind that this is the worst picture of us ever.


Punch Myself in the Face

That night Jesse and I went to Trivia Night for FNSC. We had 3 missions.

The first mission was to drink as much sweet tea out of mason jars as was humanly possible. Check and double checked.

The second mission was to pilot Team Stache from the complete and utter futility that has been its history all the way to mediocrity. Check and double checked. Team Stache (I’m not sure what they were known as before FNSC showed up and revolutionized the game) had never finished above 3rd to last. We piloted the team all the way to respectability. We finished almost exactly in the middle of the pack of 24 teams. Although we would have surely finished higher if the Sports category would have included sports questions. The Winter Olympics and NASCAR are not sports. Although I’m pretty sure that the judges would have given us points for picking Brewster Baker as the answer for the question about the winner of the 2010 Daytona Left Turnathon. But we were overruled.

Mission 3 was to be the table that had the most fun. Check, double checked and triple checked. I knew every member of Team Stache (Jay, Willy, Geri D., Shannon and Jesse) very well with the exception of Papa Smurf and his wife. At the end of the night I wasn’t sure if Mr. and Mrs. Papa Smurf loved or loathed us. They seemed to run hot and cold on us and certainly weren’t fans of our lengthy discussion of how great Kenny Rogers was in Six Pack. However, Mrs. Papa Smurf called Geri D. on the following day to tell her one and only one thing – She had never had so much fun at Trivia Night and it was all because FNSC is the bee’s knees! She wanted to make sure that we would be returning to Trivia Night in 3 months. I think FNSC might just make a return, but the moustaches won’t. I’m kind of thinking that our team theme on that night will be “lumberjacks”. A little tribute to my boy Steve Roberts.

After our team huddled up and put all of our hands in and shouted “Mediocrity!!!” I tried to convince Jay to come over in the morning to take a couple of photos of the stache before it was clipped from my face and washed down my sink into the dark, dank drain of history.

Jay insisted on taking the pictures that night because he couldn’t stand to know that this moustache was even in existence.

Jay came over and took some pictures of the porn alter ego that Micky wanted me to create with the moustache. He even named such a character “Hammer”.

Here are a few publicity stills for a movie that will never exist starring “Hammer”.


Punch Myself in the Face
“Did you call a repair guy?”
Punch Myself in the Face
“Mrs. Robinson, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with this water heater…”
Punch Myself in the Face
“It is kind of hot in here. Do you mind if I take off my shirt?”

Although I think most people were just being kind, the reviews on the moustache were mixed. Mixed between people who were honest and people who were struggling to come up with something that didn’t sound cruel.

4 women from work commented that it looked “good”.
Andree said, “Are you hosting a Do-It-Yourself show on channel 11 tonight? You look exactly like Al from that Home Improvement show.”
Jen said, “I’m totally laughing out loud!” I will point out that she actually typed out “laughing out loud” as opposed to “lol”. These mean two totally different things. Jen also admitted on Sunday that she had shown a stache picture to Dionne from work. Her response was perhaps the most honest. “He needs to shave that immediately.”
Shannon said, “The soul patch makes the stache work.” I still don’t know what she means by make it work. As near as I can tell it doesn’t work at all.
When I sent the picture to Jill, I warned her that it would make her want to punch me in the face. Her response. “U don’t deserve a punch in the face! It’s not bad, especially considering NO ONE should have a moustache long term in the 21st century.” Jill must be a pacifist because I definitely deserved a punch in the face for looking like that!

Although Jesse will be celebrating Moustache Day again next year, I will be passing. I don’t think I have the discipline to make it through the day without hurting myself and that wretched upper lip hair.

Regression

I haven’t been as active blogging lately. There are several reasons for this absence.

  1. I have been spending most of my free time organizing the basement.  When I completed this project I moved on to the upstairs.  I am on the verge of being quite downsized.  Hopefully this project will be completed next Wednesday.  Or at least, I hope that the only room that I will have left to organize and downsize will be the office after next Wednesday.  There is always a fair chance that I will just give up on the office and declare it a permanent disaster area.  We’ll see how the other two rooms go.
  2. When I haven’t been organizing, eliminating and donating I have been moving furniture around. True this doesn’t take much physical time, but it is emotionally draining.
  3. I have been working on a personal facial hair project.  For one 36 hour period, I wasn’t intelligent enough to put a noun against a verb in a meaningful way.
  4. The last couple of Friday Night Supper Clubs have been emotionally draining.  The night we viewed Free Walking at Jay’s apartment was a visceral experience.  What a great movie!  Then the Jucy Lucy replication Friday Night Supper Club was an overt failure that ended with My Great Shame.  It took me several days to recover from that shame.  At least Dawn got to become an auxiliary member of FNSC.  She allegedly doesn’t even mind that it is a “Boys Club”.  I will believe her when she makes a return appearance. Plus Trivia Night.  Well, I can’t even begin to discuss how emotionally draining Trivia Night ended up being.  Plus Trivia Night fell in that 36 hour period where I was a moron. However, Team Stache (Geri D., Willy, Jay, Jesse, Shannon, Papa Smurf and his wife) was an undeniable powerhouse.  I only wish I had pictures to share so that you could relive the experience.
  5. The cleaning crew (Jill) for my Oscars Watch had to work at her “real job” and got stuck in Minnesota.  Therefore I had to do my own cleaning.  The bed maker (Sara) also got stuck working her “real job” so I had to make my own bed.  I tried to get that out with a straight face.  Sara had to work, so I just shut my bedroom door and pretended that the room was how it was supposed to be.  My kitchen crew (Jen and Derrick, well mostly Derrick) came through with flying colors though.  Still, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I should add that my neighbor joined the Watch and listening to his plan to get his life back together by finding a girlfriend so that he can have some self-esteem.  Well, that was psychologically draining.
  6. Perhaps the most important reason why I haven’t taken keyboard in hand and banged out some words is because during the move from one blogging entity to a different blogging entity, I decided to completely recategorize my blog. I started this process with well over 770 journal entries to review. Through this process I eliminated several journal entries.  Things that I didn’t need any longer. Like videos that no longer existed or calls to donate to a “charity” that would lie and claim that your donation was tax deductible.  I even broke down categories by people and I left the number of blog entries by the category.  A quick glance down the left side of this blog will tell you who I seem to write about the most.  Are you surprised that Jay is number 1?

A surprising side effect of my reading is that I think I might have regressed as a writer.  I fear that I might have peaked and it is all downhill from here on out.  Some of my writings in the not so distant past were clever, witty and dare I say it – brilliant.  I fear if I was ever going to write a play for ACTORS that was going to revolutionize costumed (believe me I have tried – Geri D. will not let me put an all-nude play on her stage) drama in a meaningful way, I have missed my chance.  Rather than eloquently crafting phrases, I now rely on cheap tricks (like my over reliance on parenthetical statements that makes me want to punch myself in the face almost as surely as if I had moustache) and broad allusions.  I have surely descended into hack-hood.  See, that isn’t even a real word.  It isn’t like the old days when I used to invent words that are sure to be the next surefire hits in our lexicon.  I can’t come up with a word so I throw out a dash and postfix and then I merrily go on my way.

It didn’t used to be like this.  (I just don’t mean that I used to not end sentences with prepositions.)  I used to be growing as a writer.  For example, when I was in the 4th Grade I wrote the worst creative writing stories ever!! They were based loosely on a pet rabbit that most likely died due to my neglect.  Only I stole some ideas from a few cartoons and movies that I enjoyed and out of my pencil and on to some poor dead tree came writing that was so dizzingly bad that it makes me want to vomit when I read just a few short passages:

When Fluffy found him he took him to Leo the Lion. Leo took care of him. Pucky told Leo his life story. Then he told Fluffy what Jack, Jill and Joan said. Fluffy said “I better get going” then he left. He hid in Raspberry Forest and said “By the power of Carrot Castle! I HAVE THE POWER!” Then he said, “Up, up and away and he flew off to find Joan, Jack and Jill. When he found them he landed and said, “Pucky sent me.” Superfluff said.  “Let’s get that wimpy rabbit!” Superfluff picked them up and twirled them until they gave up and promised to stop picking on Pucky. Then he went after Swampfrog. When he was fighting Swampfrog he said a few words he shouldn’t of. When he returned he taught Pucky karate. When he stepped into the pond, Jack, Jill, Joan and Swampfrog were waiting for him but Pucky beat them up in 15 fish winks. Now everybody calls him The Karate Duck.

Fortunately I can still say that I’m a better writer than I was when I put that horrible drivel to paper. But I did slightly improve by high school:

Eric reached deep into his soul, past the candy wrappers and half-eaten bagels, to the insult department. Through the corridor with doors marked with signs that read “whites”, “blondes”, “Scott Kendall” and “dogs”.  He opened the door that read: “The Mother of All Insults”.

The glowing light almost blinded him. The brilliant shiny box in the room was his destination. He opened the box and was greeted with a cloud of rolling smoke. He reached into the box and grabbed a piece of paper. Eric read the paper and he knew he had his death blow!

Back in reality Eric stared at the landing party and said… and I quote… “Huh, freaks of nature!”

He was puzzled when this didn’t break their morale. They were laughing at him. This was the Mother-of-All-Insults and they were laughing at HIM!

Chris looked at Eric and broke into another 5 minutes of laughter. Chris controlled himself and said, “You sir are our inferior. You call us freaks in an attempt to manipulate reality. We have evolved into a place of superiority over you!”

“Liar! I’m not listening to you!” Eric screamed.

“Scott. Who-o-o-o-o-o is this m-m-m-an?” Captain Punjab whimpered.

As you can tell, I have clearly progressed from the terrible wretch that wrote those words. I just hope that I am not regressing to that level again!

RWPE #6 – Adventure

Daily Reminder

Don’t forget to update your links, bookmarks and RSS Feeds to the new URL: http://www.photography139.com/notebook/

The theme for last week was ADVENTURE:


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Jesse Howard

WEEK 6 - ADVENTURE - MIKE VEST
Michael Vest

WEEK 6 - ADVENTURE - CHRISTOPHER D. BENNETT
Christopher D. Bennett

It is my custom not to explain much about my RWPE photos and I will not break with that tradition, but I will at least state that there is a small back story as to why I took a picture of me scrubbing the toilet for the theme ADVENTURE. This picture was not out of laziness. It exists for a reason.

Dawn’s Weekly Poem

Adventure

Let’s skip a stone on the pond
And run the forest wild
Have a sword fight in the woods
And fight the king so viled

Build a clubhouse in the tree
And mighty dragons slay
Lay in the meadow to watch the clouds
And pass away our day

Let’s push the limits of our minds
And spill our hearts desire
Play in the spirit of our youth
And pray we never tire

This week’s theme is:

Out of Focus

Hopefully some fun can be had with that!

Amazing Weekend

Daily Reminder

Don’t forget to update your links, bookmarks and RSS Feeds to the new URL: http://www.photography139.com/notebook/

I did have a couple of late submissions for RWPE. Here are a couple of bonus FRAMING pictures.


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Julie Johnson

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Michael Vest

I had an amazing weekend. I would just like to share a few of the highlights. In no particular order, besides chronological:

  • I ate supper on Friday night at Jeff’s Pizza with Teresa and Jesse. I love their pepperoni rolls.
  • I got to watch Jesus Christ Superstar at Stephens with Mom, Jesse and Teresa. It was an awesome production, with the exception of the geriatric Ted Neeley, who has continued to suck it up into his 60s. I firmly believe that the only acceptable definition of Hell is “separation from God”. But if I were to believe in a personal punishment vision of Hell, it might be that I get up to what I think is Heaven because Jesus is there. But then he opens his mouth and sounds like Ted Neeley. I would have to pump my fist and scream, “You win this round vengeful God! You win this round!” Sorry Shannon, but that is the way it is.
  • I got to chauffeur Jim out of the Cyclone State for only the 2nd time since 1987. It was the first time he has left the state for an “extended” period of time since 1987 when he took Nate to see a St. Louis Cardinals game. I think he might have enjoyed it as he is considering leaving the state again this Summer to see the Twins play the Braves on June 12 & 13.
  • I got to see Bethany’s new house. It is pretty sweet. They have managed to put down a new wood floor, new tile in the kitchen and new carpet in the rest of the house. Her new fridge is the coolest fridge I’ve ever seen. They painted all the rooms and they got the paint for free because they bought it on Christmas Eve and the Sherwin Williams employee just gave it to them as a Christmas Present because they were the only customers he had that day.
  • I got to try my first (and won’t be the last) Jucy Lucy. Yes, there is no “i” in Jucy. There are two restaurants that lay claim to having invented the Twin City curiosity. We went to Matt’s Bar based on the recommendation of Becca’s boyfriend Gelli. He insisted that they have the superior Jucy Lucy. A Jucy Lucy is a cheeseburger that has the cheese inside the meat patty rather than on top. A piece of cheese is surrounded by raw meat and cooked until it melts. The end result is a hamburger with a molten core of cheese. The sandwich is both incredibly tasty and slightly dangerous. You have to be careful with the first bite because if you bite into it too aggressively you are rewarded with an explosion of boiling cheese. This cheese explosion is both tasty and painful. A rare combination. The two restaurants that claim to have invented the burger are only a few blocks apart. Matt’s Bar does not use the “i” in juicy. The 5-8 Club does use the “i”. They both have used this spelling in their marketing. Matt’s Bar boasts “if it’s spelled correctly, you’re at the wrong place.” The 5-8 club boasts “if it’s spelled right, it’s done right”. In a future trip to Minnesota, I will give the 5-8 Club a try. I might also venture into St. Paul to try the Cajun Lucy served at the Groveland Tap.
  • Stopped at a quaint little store called Tom’s Popcorn Shop. I picked up 4 types of popcorn. A chocolate popcorn that ended up being terrible. Jill compared it to Cocoa Puffs and that was a very accurate assessment. A double caramel and mixed nuts variety ended up being very tasty. A caramel and peanuts variety was tasty. The banana popcorn I am munching on right now isn’t too bad.
  • I got to see the bank where Bethany works and pick up two new pairs of shoes at a nearby Burlington Coat Factory. My injured foot is already starting to feel better since I switched shoes.
  • I made Sara’s dream come true by wandering around IKEA with Bethany and Jim. Okay, mostly with Bethany. I think Jim was ready to go 5 minutes after stepping in the door. I didn’t get to see all of IKEA, but I did get to see a group of girls acting out the scene from (500) Days of Summer (have I told you lately how much I love that movie!) that is set in IKEA. That warmed my heart a bit. I also fell in love with their collection of butcher block tables and I have decided to get rid of my kitchen table and replace it with a small butcher block table. To create both some space and so I have a food prep area if I ever decide to cook. Or the more likely scenario, for the next time somebody comes over and cooks for me.
  • I got to see Jill’s apartment. It was disgustingly clean. Meaning if I spent now until my birthday party cleaning my house it still wouldn’t be half as clean as Jill’s apartment. But it is a well-known fact that the Gorshes are cleaners. Anybody that ever worked a closing shift at the Boone outpost of the Evil Clown Empire with Derrick can tell you stories about the cleanliness of the grill area when he was done. They can also tell you other stories, but I’m concentrating on how much that guy liked to clean for now. I got to meet her cat. I don’t think it is a major surprise that her can’t didn’t like me, but the theory is that this was just laying the groundwork. The next time I visit, the cat will think I’m swell. It is similar to my theory that the next time Jupiter gets together with Jackson and Bailey they will get along swell because of the groundwork I did on Dog Playdate when I was borrowing Jupiter for Sara’s trip to Florida. I also got to ride in Indy for the first time since I got to drive her several months back. We ate at this sweet restaurant called Jade 88 Chinese Cuisine. We were the only people in the restaurant. Literally. My favorite aspects of this restaurant were that they called crab rangoons – cream cheese powder puffs, they had a chair sitting in the women’s bathroom stall (Jill reported this fact, I did not go into the women’s bathroom) and they had the largest collection of cleaning supplies I’ve ever seen sitting on top of the toilet in the men’s room. That isn’t to say the food wasn’t good, because it was great, but to know me is to know what type of weird things tickle my fancy. After the meal, Jill returned my copy of the 2 Disc Special Edition of A Clockwork Orange that she had borrowed a few weeks back. My Stanley Kubrick boxed set is complete once again! I was also able to loan her The Departed and give her the final piece of Halloween candy. A piece of candy that almost ended up in Willy’s stomach.
  • I had lunch with Jim, Becca and Nate at one of Becca’s favorite restaurants Quang. It is a Vietnamese restaurant that reminds me of one of Sara’s favorite restaurants, A Dong. (Yes, immature people, that is really the name of the restaurant. Stop giggling. I know who you are.) While we waited for a table, Becca and I checked out an Asian grocery store across the street. Now just going to a normal grocery store is kind of an adventure for me. (If you don’t believe me, ask Jay) But going to this grocery store was a special kind of adventure for me. I actually didn’t take my camera out of my backpack on the whole trip. Even though I thought about doing my FRAMING picture for RWPE up there, but in the end I admittedly just kind of phoned that project in. However, at the bottom of this list, you might just find a few low quality images I captured with my phone in this market. The food at Quang lived up to Becca’s hype. We had some kind of fried yam things called Banh Tom Chien. They called crab rangoons cream cheese wontons. Tasty, but not as cute as cream cheese powder puffs.
  • After Quang, I allowed Becca to drive my car (without a small amount of consternation on my part) to give us a tour of Uptown Minneapolis. I really liked Uptown. We got to drive by Gelli’s parents’ restaurant “It’s All Greek to Me…” (a place I will no doubt try in the future) and hear Becca’s sermonizing on how much she doesn’t like hipsters. Nate liked to point out that Becca is a borderline hipster, but she doesn’t see the similarities. Even though she does want to drive a Prius, she is not a hipster she insists. Mostly because she doesn’t ride a bike. But perhaps the most exciting part of the Uptown tour was driving by the Uptown Theater. Although I had missed it, they clearly proclaimed on their marquee that they had a midnight showing of A Clockwork Orange. Jill is going to look into this phenomenon and hopefully a midnight showing of A Clockwork Orange is in our future.
  • After the Uptown tour we stopped at a grocery store so Nate could buy the ingredients for gumbo. On the surface that doesn’t sound particularly exciting, but in fact it is like watching Van Gogh buy paintbrushes or Eric Clapton buy a guitar.
  • Becca made a Coastal Seafood Salad that included shrimp, squid and roughie. It was incredible. Nate made gumbo (no need to point out how phenomenal the gumbo was) and we settled down to watch the Super Bowl. I would have to say that my favorite Super Bowl commercial this year was the monster.com commercial with the beaver playing the violin. Like Jen, I’m partial to beavers. The team I was rooting for also won. That was a surprising bonus. Nate also tried to convince me that Metallica had redeemed themselves with their most recent album. I’ve never been much of a Metallica fan, but at some point I will be giving their new album a listen in order to make my own assessment.
  • I pulled into my driveway at 1:30 in the morning. It had been a successful weekend on many levels.

Here are a few low quality pictures from my phone:


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Mmmm… Pork brains. But you can’t prepare that without edible beef blood!

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Fresh clams!

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Lobster. I wanted a picture of the crabs, but the water in their tank wasn’t clear enough to get a good picture.

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Of course I also wanted to share today’s love letter from The Writer’s Almanac:

Franz Kafka wrote stories about human beings transformed into vermin; unsettling legal battles over unspecified crimes; and a father who sentences his son to death by drowning. Kafka is often thought of as neurotic, and rarely as romantic, but he wrote a great many love letters — many of the anguished, helpless variety — to a Berlin woman to whom he was engaged for five years. Their relationship was carried out almost entirely by letters.

In the autumn of 1912, he wrote to Felice Bauer about how much she had become inseparable from his composition process, and also how anticipation of her writing kept him awake at night. He wrote:

“Lately I have found to my amazement how intimately you have now become associated with my writing, although until recently I believe that the only time I did not think about you at all was while I was writing.

In one short paragraph I had written, there were, among others, the following references to you and your letters: someone was give a bar of chocolate. There was talk of small diversions someone had during working hours. Then there was a telephone call. And finally somebody urged someone to go to bed, and threatened to take him straight to his room if he did not obey, which was certainly prompted by the recollection of your mother’s annoyance when you stayed so late at the office. — Such passages are especially dear to me; in them I take hold of you, without your feeling it, and therefore without your having to resist.

… [It takes] every imaginable effort to get to sleep — i.e., to achieve the impossible, for one cannot sleep and at the same time be thinking about one’s work and trying to solve with certainty the one question that certainly is insoluble, namely, whether there will be a letter from you the next day, and at what time. The night consists of two parts: one wakeful, the other sleepless, and if I were to tell you about it at length and you were prepared to listen, I should never finish.

Eleven days later, Kafka wrote to her:
“Fraulein Felice!
I am now going to ask you a favour which sounds quite crazy, and which I should regard as such, were I the one to receive the letter. It is also the very greatest test that even the kindest person could be put to. Well this is it:
Write to me only once a week, so that your letter arrives on Sunday — for I cannot endure your daily letters, I am incapable of enduring them.
For instance, I answer one of your letters, then lie in bed in apparent calm, but my heart beats through my entire body and is conscious only of you.
I belong to you; there is really no other way of expressing it, and that is not strong enough. But for this very reason I don’t want to know what you are wearing; it confuses me so much that I cannot deal with life; and that’s why I don’t want to know that you are fond of me. If I did, how could I, fool that I am, go on sitting in my office, or here at home, instead of leaping onto a train with my eyes shut and opening them only when I am with you?”

And a week after that, he wrote to her:

“Dearest, what have I done that makes you torment me so? No letter again today, neither by the first mail nor the second. You do make me suffer! While one written word from you could make me happy! … If I am to go on living at all, I cannot go on vainly waiting for news of you, as I have done these last few interminable days …

I think the thing I’ve liked about these letters is their common theme of thinking constantly about the woman they love and how that gets in the way of their work.