Five O'Clock on Friday

A much wiser man than I stated that being foolish on April Fool’s Day is like drinking on Saint Patrick’s day…strictly for amateurs.

Therefore in that spirit, and to preserve my professionally foolish nature, here’s an attempt at a serious poem.

Ghost Rider in Dissed Guise

The first Ghost Rider movie displayed a level of insight bordering on genius.

This was a remarkable accomplishment for a movie that patently stupid.

I want you!  To make me a better movie!

Look...AAAANTS!

This is the tale of one of the first of many surprises as new homeowners.   After a short while, I finally got around to emptying all the garbage and scrap wood bequeathed to us out of the little workshop downstairs.  There was evidence here and in other house areas that the previous owners hadn't cleaned sections of the home in their three year tenure. The rafters had accumulated a quilt like layer of dust large enough to hide several fasteners, a small latch mechanism, and a large screwdriver.  The house listing said “Mrs. Clean lived here.” Apparently she didn’t take her work home with her. The sighting of an abandoned mouse or chipmunk nest, and spider breeds even I have never seen before made putting a "bug bomb" fogger in the workshop seem to be a good idea.

Yes, Gianna, There is a Batgirl.

I take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of a geek like myself.

“I am 7 years old. My little brother says there is no Batgirl -that she’s only made up for girls who want to play Batman.

Mama says, "If Jeff says it about comic books, it's so."

Please tell me the truth, is there a Batgirl? “

Gianna

Up the Lake: Oh, a Tasteful One.

The ample viewing area for the shed turned stage (far right).

This one is NOT my fault. 

There was one summer Up the Lake where the kids were all far more musical than usual.  To understand how amazing this was, one must realize that all kids tend to be exceedingly musical up there all the time.    This musicality includes things like:

My cousin and sister spouting a chorus of “Tomorrow” (mainly to annoy me) to indicate anything that will be done the next day

An infinite variety of aquatic spinning in a circle songs, in Italian and English.

De-profanitied Up the Lake versions of World War Two marching cadences (often reprofanitied around the campfire by the grandparents once the little uns had gone to bed.)

That year was out of control though. One of the little Joes in particular was constantly singing and dancing: on surfboards, out in the middle of fields and primarily on top of the tool shed. 

“Have we got a movie to watch when you get home!”

Receiving a phone call from Dad starting with that line was already a big event. Not only was he normally not the one to call me in college, but also almost every time he did call, Mom would be in the background saying, “Tell him…” in a voice loud enough that he didn’t need to repeat it in the first place. (Those with Italian mothers should be familiar with this phenomenon.) 

The truly major event of that call, however, was that it foreshadowed my introduction to the Greatest Film in the History of Cinema - a movie that opened twenty five years ago tomorrow. Frankly I’m deeply offended that I have to work, and that schools are not closed on this momentous occasion:

The Silver Anniversary of Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn

The prime reason I bought my first DVD player.

Previews of Coming Avocations

Way back in about fifth or sixth grade I was selected to go to some sort of children’s outer space…  

conference…   

thing. 

Following a series of lectures and slide shows, they broke the auditorium up into groups and tasked us with designing our very own NASA missions.

We would have totally been there first.

Bad Conservative Confessions

I was raised in a conservative family, in a conservative town, in a very conservative district.  It was the kind of Pleasant Valley Sunday suburb where the local elections were all settled during the republican primaries.  Several times, I remember area politicians changing their listed party from “Democrat” to “Not quite as Republican as that guy, but still Republican” in order to have a shot at a town office.

This sort of upbringing shaped my young mind.  Those willing to provide examples of how many liberal ideas were both crazy and foolish were always available, and ready to show evidence.   I believe at some point during High School, when asked what my political leaning was, my father said, “I think Jeff is slightly to the right of Hitler.”

Over time, my horizons broadened and my views became more diverse.  This came from actually listening and paying attention to individuals’ positions and statements.  By focusing on what the right wing leaders were saying, I came to the conclusion that many conservative ideas were both crazy and foolish.   This did not cause me to swing my ideological pendulum the other way; however, as paying attention to what the left was saying merely confirmed the previously suspected levels of crazy and foolish.  Instead of moving left or staying right, I went up. (Example: I am in the camp of neither the greedy empty suits who work on Wall Street, nor the unwashed hippies that occupied it.)

That’s A Moray

Last night I attended a séance. 

The medium asked who should be channeled, and at the same time two people called out:

“Dean Martin”

 and

“Jacques Cousteau”. 

The result was the following song.