The Groundlings

This past Wednesday I started classes at the Groundling’s School of improv. I LOVE IT! It scared the ever living hell out of me because I hate going into situations where there are going to be people that are better than you at whatever, but when I got there we all started chatting about movies and actors and we jumped right into work. At no time did I feel overwhelmed and everyone there was beyond supportive. I feel confident that this will help me in chasing my dream of acting. I also feel confident that that last line was clichéd enough to be part of a Bring it On movie.

Elegy of Cassettes

I said goodbye today to the last real vestige of a former friend. It was weird because it was a mix tape (yes, screw you, I still have a tape deck in my car) that I don’t really listen to but has been in my tape player in my car for as long as I have had the car. I occasionally listen to it and drift back but lately the memories aren’t as vivid as they used to be. Anyways, the tape kept getting eaten, this is something that the youth of today has never had to experience; the shear terror of thinking that your tape had been destroyed, getting out a pencil and putting it eraser-end first and trying to rewind it. I kind of miss that, that personal connection you have with tapes. CD’s were sort of like that but once burning onto a computer became the norm the connection was severed. It meant something to you if you had a great tape that was lost to you because it was harder to replace it. Today was that day for me and my old friend. My villainous car ate my tape and no matter how I rewound it, it just kept eating it. When I reached my destination I literally took the tape out and said goodbye to her. Some memories need to be just that, memories, not constant reminders, especially when you were the prick.

My Easter Thoughts

When I was young I went to church and catholic school. I learned about God and “His” laws and believed unquestioningly, immediately. The mere threat of hell was enough to make sure I never took the lord’s name in vain. But I grew up.

When I was young I watched Sesame Street every morning. I learned about right and wrong and how to count lady bugs at the lady bug’s picnic. A bad attitude meant you were a monster living in a trash can and open mindedness meant you lived with your best friend who collected paperclips. But I grew up.

As such, I still took lessons from both that are with me today. I have good ideas about what is right and wrong. The blessing is I’m no longer encumbered by crazy shit that threatens my “soul”. I have come to a realization that I can be a good person and live a good life or not. I am kind of comforted by the fact that no one knows with any degree of certainty what awaits us when we die. Philosophers were speculating long before Jesus ever entered into the picture. Death should be a comforting idea rather than the most terrifying threat of your life wondering if your soul is going to burn for an eternity. Everyday you should be good with how you’ve lived your life so far, not for some unyieldingly violent deity but for your own conscience.

In Defence of the Renaissance Festival

Every year I hear about the Renaissance Festival in town (or close enough to town) and without fail I hear the snickering at the mere idea of going down to that dusty road. Now I absolutely understand the humor in it. It is funny in its own right; grown men pretending that they are blacksmiths or knights is kind of goofy and the grown women (and by grown I mean bigger than the outfits they wear) pretending to be royalty or handmaidens. But there are multiple ways of looking at this. One is to go there (or not) and criticize it. To be that guy (or girl) who will never step foot in the grounds yet have an opinion about it wrought with negativity. This one shows who you are as a person. Don’t get me wrong, there are some funny sites to be seen there and none of it intentional. The women there are sometimes far too comfortable with their bodies and their bodies can tip the scale at 300+ with little clothing covering their gelatinous, stretch-marked guts. This is sometimes hard to look past without laughing. But if I weighed as much as some of them and tried to dress like a medieval hooker then I would be just as susceptible to the wiseass cracks coming my way. The men for the most part are better. The ones that go around shirtless are typically in good shape and those who look as if they punch the gas pedal whenever they come in the vicinity of a gym are generally well clothed. The second is that it’s kind of sweet, thinking about the fact that there are these passionate people in the world who not only want to remember history but take a stroll through bits and pieces of it in the best way they know how. Their imagination is what is missing in the mundane freeway of our everyday lives. Here, we too can step outside of our uptight judgmental ways and stroll through their world of dusty roads, interesting foods, fun games, and shops. We can go through unnoticed or interact with them. The experience can be one of marvel and wonder or as miserable as you want to be and want it to be. I went today because it has become sort of an annual thing for my girlfriend and me. We don’t go dressed up because 1) it’s expensive to buy those clothes and we hate the cheap looking crap and 2) bloody hot out there. I got to shoot bow and arrows and practicing fencing which I’m apparently pretty decent at both. The people there want to talk to you. They are not the social rejects that people paint them up to be. One of the most stunning things you’ll notice, and I don’t believe you could find this anywhere else, is that nobody is miserable there. There are no angry people. If someone bumps into you by accident you’ll hear a thousand apologies (probably those exact words). There are no fights there that are not staged and yet people are walking around in the sweltering heat, drinking, some people armed to the teeth with actual weapons, and yet never will you see any type of scuffle. I think there is something to be said for that; for the great people of the RenFair. There is a fun time to be had there. Drunken scullery maids, gorgeous children dressed up in fantasy or medieval garb, Knights, fools and kings.
Remember that no matter how sad you believe them to be, they are actors. They play a role for your entertainment. They serve your happiness. For this you should be grateful.

The Failing of Parents

How hard is it to be even remotely strict with your child? Sitting here in B& N reading a book on the story of Revelations, getting into it because it’s friggin’ interesting and enlightening, this mom (not a milf mind you) sits her son down at the table next to me and walks to the counter of the café. This boy, who is on the verge of being fat, just a cupcake away, is sitting here reading a comic. I instantly feel alright with him for this fact because I love comics. Then it begins. The mother tells him to close his eyes because she has a surprise for him…a fuckin’ cupcake! She tries to be funny and says it’s a bean sprout donut and she laughs. She tells him that they aren’t going to Tae kwon Do today for whatever reason. As this child is against the wall, the next bit is hard to picture and I missed the actual event, but he somehow drops the cupcake that is almost finished. She starts lecturing him that he never listens all the while he is ignoring her. I look up and see him pick up the palm-sized piece of chocolate cupcake off the floor, blow on it, and shove it whole into his mouth. Then he tries to wipe the chocolate off of the wall. I still can’t figure out the physics of what happened because the thing landed behind him on his left side which is the side of the wall. So he’s smearing the chocolate on the wall with his napkin with a cup of water in his mouth, because setting it down would have been an effort. His mother tells him to take the cup out of his mouth and give it to her. He doesn’t listen and tilts his up to drain some of it. She continues to tell him no and then he just pounds it down (at least it was water). She then continues to tell him that he never listens and he is trying to talk over her telling her to get him another cupcake. By now my mouth is just open and I can’t stop watching this. She says no to the second cupcake (which didn’t go to waste) and he begins to counter her argument with “I do listen”. Other people’s children make me hate children. What is that kid going to be like in a few years? On their way out she says he is going to Tae Kwon Do. How is that a punishment? I want to tell her to inform his TKD teacher that he is failing in his job to teach respect and discipline. I wanted to tell her that she is failing as a parent by letting this annoying little shit get away with his attitude and behavior. I understand that it’s hard to raise a child. I respect the ones who do it well, but what am I supposed to feel about the ones that haven’t figured out that catering to spoiled children is possibly the wrong choice?