I don't normally do this sort of thing, but I thought it was interesting that this sort of thing should explode during the release of my letter last week:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/08/30/AR2007083001834.html
Updated information points to at least 13 wrestlers getting suspended due to violations of the WWE Wellness Policy and one former performer, now a member of the backstage management, has already been fired.
Mr. McMahon, I think this only proves the point further that something radical might be called for to adjust things.
-Steve
04 September 2007
01 September 2007
Letter completion
Of course, I’m no business major. I admit I’m just a fan and this is just a thought. It’s a way to help new performers before putting them on live TV. It’s a way to reduce travel time for the performers so that they can spend more time at home. It’s a way for performers to rest themselves and heal up. At the same time, I believe there is an opportunity to make money while doing this.
This is an opportunity to really have a division between the brands. This is an opportunity to tell some different stories. This is an opportunity to do something visible for the wellness of the performers. This is an opportunity to get some attention, a buzz, around the business by doing something radical, something different. Obviously it doesn’t need to permanent and in five, ten or twenty years, maybe it’ll be time to be different again and reform the big touring groups again.
Eitherway, it’s just a thought.
Thank you for your time sir,
-Stephen M. Wolterstorff
This is an opportunity to really have a division between the brands. This is an opportunity to tell some different stories. This is an opportunity to do something visible for the wellness of the performers. This is an opportunity to get some attention, a buzz, around the business by doing something radical, something different. Obviously it doesn’t need to permanent and in five, ten or twenty years, maybe it’ll be time to be different again and reform the big touring groups again.
Eitherway, it’s just a thought.
Thank you for your time sir,
-Stephen M. Wolterstorff
Letter continued
I’ve watched a number of ‘shoot’ interviews with older wrestlers, many of which worked in the territory system. Many of them expressed the same thought; that they learned more about the business during the car ride to the next town than they did in the ring. In these days of iPods and Gameboys and such, I wouldn’t expect that a car ride with a mix of veterans and new guys would necessarily lead to an educational conversation. My hope would be that each territory would act as a smaller classroom. I am sure that this sort of guidance is occurring in the current set up. In the relatively smaller ‘classroom’ of the territory, a new performer could receive more one on one training, receive less conflicting advice and work on that council. Once a newer performer has had a chance to learn in one area, he or she can be moved to another region, gain guidance from another set of veterans and add the one set of advice to the next, rather than get all the differing views at once, building up their own style based on all their training.
This may work towards repairing one of the primary problems I’ve personally had with your current product. I’ve seen a number of young men in recent years receive pushes that their skill level cannot match; young men that often have talent but aren’t clear how to use it. On the other side of the equation are a number of battered veterans, men who have had exceptional careers, men who no doubt have a love for the business, men who can still entertain a crowd, men who can get a pop just from their entrance music but are also men that probably shouldn’t be working the schedules they are working. How much longer until the majority of the upper card retires? One year? Two? How many will survive another five? How many of the new guys will be ready to fill those gaps when the time comes? I’m not saying that things can’t work out in their current configuration but I think they’d work better in this suggested configuration.
Restoring the territories should also reduce the amount of travel. I don’t know if the ‘E’ pays for all the plane tickets or if the wrestlers pay for their own transport. From a purely monetary standpoint, the territories should reduce costs. Increased car travel and gas expenses, yes but less plane travel and fewer hotel stays due to more time spent at home should more than balance that. With teleconferencing being so easy and relatively inexpensive, you could check in with every territory on a daily basis and never leave your office.
This may work towards repairing one of the primary problems I’ve personally had with your current product. I’ve seen a number of young men in recent years receive pushes that their skill level cannot match; young men that often have talent but aren’t clear how to use it. On the other side of the equation are a number of battered veterans, men who have had exceptional careers, men who no doubt have a love for the business, men who can still entertain a crowd, men who can get a pop just from their entrance music but are also men that probably shouldn’t be working the schedules they are working. How much longer until the majority of the upper card retires? One year? Two? How many will survive another five? How many of the new guys will be ready to fill those gaps when the time comes? I’m not saying that things can’t work out in their current configuration but I think they’d work better in this suggested configuration.
Restoring the territories should also reduce the amount of travel. I don’t know if the ‘E’ pays for all the plane tickets or if the wrestlers pay for their own transport. From a purely monetary standpoint, the territories should reduce costs. Increased car travel and gas expenses, yes but less plane travel and fewer hotel stays due to more time spent at home should more than balance that. With teleconferencing being so easy and relatively inexpensive, you could check in with every territory on a daily basis and never leave your office.
30 August 2007
Letter continued
This would require some changes to the presentation of the shows. My thought was to have RAW live from one region in its league each week, rotating between the three regions in the RAW league. Footage would be presented from the other two regions during the show to keep viewers up-to-date on their storylines. As Smackdown is currently a taped show, it could just become a digest of its three regions, perhaps giving it an ESPN Sportscenter type feel.
This may result in an overflow of recorded matches in each region. This could be utilized in syndicated programming available only in that region. In an effort to defray the cost of syndication, these shows could be made available for sale on DVD or, better yet, available for download for a fee. Hardcore wrestling fans will be keen to check out detailed events from other regions or to follow their favourite wrestler. This would be a good way to get into iTunes or something similar.
This process would also allow for more dark matches, more opportunities for newer wrestlers to solidify their abilities in front of a crowd without having to worry about television or ratings. It would further mingle the house show and the televised programming. Since the regions wouldn’t generally be in direct competition with each other, it could mean recording Smackdown’s programming over a weekend and airing them during the week. Currently, news of what will be aired on Smackdown is available on the Internet as soon as the show is recorded on Tuesday. With this new plan, the results of those shows would no doubt still appear on-line but no one would know what matches would make air.
The question pf Pay Per Views is an important one as I know this is a great source of cash. Two paths show promise in my eyes. One gamble is to cut the PPVs to the big four: Wrestlemania, Summerslam, Survivor Series and the Royal Rumble. These are the PPVs with history and are the ones that the more casual fans will gravitate towards, feeling these are the important ones. If these are the only opportunity to see the entire roster together, they’ll attract further attention and, hopefully, an increased buyrate just from that. Also, with only four shows to purchase in a year, the average fan may be more inclined to purchase them all.
On the other hand, that is putting all the eggs in one basket. As there are six regions, each could have their own PPV in between the big four. If the big four are evenly spaced three months apart there could be a single region based PPV every other week. If this option is preferable, I would recommend making them two hours long and $20-$25. This differentiates them from the big four and may encourage more buys.
It also seems clear to me that each individual region will have a smaller crowd than the average RAW or Smackdown taping attracts. Yet, each region could certainly draw part of that expectation. In this way, if one region becomes weak or burned out, it can be balanced by the others. Performers that may have worn out their welcome in one region can be ‘fired’ or ‘traded’ to another region, building storylines from the movement, similar to what occurs now.
In specific area, this will result in ‘smaller’ numbers, but, due to the increased number of possibilities, to the increased number of shows every night, it could increase business overall.
This may result in an overflow of recorded matches in each region. This could be utilized in syndicated programming available only in that region. In an effort to defray the cost of syndication, these shows could be made available for sale on DVD or, better yet, available for download for a fee. Hardcore wrestling fans will be keen to check out detailed events from other regions or to follow their favourite wrestler. This would be a good way to get into iTunes or something similar.
This process would also allow for more dark matches, more opportunities for newer wrestlers to solidify their abilities in front of a crowd without having to worry about television or ratings. It would further mingle the house show and the televised programming. Since the regions wouldn’t generally be in direct competition with each other, it could mean recording Smackdown’s programming over a weekend and airing them during the week. Currently, news of what will be aired on Smackdown is available on the Internet as soon as the show is recorded on Tuesday. With this new plan, the results of those shows would no doubt still appear on-line but no one would know what matches would make air.
The question pf Pay Per Views is an important one as I know this is a great source of cash. Two paths show promise in my eyes. One gamble is to cut the PPVs to the big four: Wrestlemania, Summerslam, Survivor Series and the Royal Rumble. These are the PPVs with history and are the ones that the more casual fans will gravitate towards, feeling these are the important ones. If these are the only opportunity to see the entire roster together, they’ll attract further attention and, hopefully, an increased buyrate just from that. Also, with only four shows to purchase in a year, the average fan may be more inclined to purchase them all.
On the other hand, that is putting all the eggs in one basket. As there are six regions, each could have their own PPV in between the big four. If the big four are evenly spaced three months apart there could be a single region based PPV every other week. If this option is preferable, I would recommend making them two hours long and $20-$25. This differentiates them from the big four and may encourage more buys.
It also seems clear to me that each individual region will have a smaller crowd than the average RAW or Smackdown taping attracts. Yet, each region could certainly draw part of that expectation. In this way, if one region becomes weak or burned out, it can be balanced by the others. Performers that may have worn out their welcome in one region can be ‘fired’ or ‘traded’ to another region, building storylines from the movement, similar to what occurs now.
In specific area, this will result in ‘smaller’ numbers, but, due to the increased number of possibilities, to the increased number of shows every night, it could increase business overall.
29 August 2007
Letter continued
I said it was a big idea but let’s think about it before dismissing it as too big.
By ‘break up’ I don’t mean ‘shut down’ or ‘dismantle’ but I do mean breaking up the massive touring groups that RAW and Smackdown have become and turning them into smaller groups covering specific area of the country; in other words: territories. I recommend breaking both RAW and Smackdown into 3 groups each, making six regions in all. Speaking very generally, this would probably break down into the NorthEast, Mid-Atlantic and Midwest for RAW and the Pacific Northwest, Texas (Southwest) and Mid South for Smackdown. What about ECW? I would suggest moving it to Canada. Since you now own many of the old territory names, perhaps some of those could be reused. Texas could be WCCW, perhaps the Midwest referred to as the AWA, maybe Canada as Stampede and so on. While this would not be necessary, it would be a nice nod to the past and could stimulate DVD sales for footage of the original territories.
I would recommend a separate booking committee for each territory that would be based in that area. You have many individuals on your payroll that used to work these territories when they last existed and have some understanding of the variations of interest in each area. Place Dusty Rhodes and Ric Flair in charge of the Mid-Atlantic region, Roddy Piper in the Pacific Northwest and so on. All these groups would report back to the main offices in Connecticut and would get their general guidance from there. Picture the challenge: trying to keep six (or seven) territories running separate storylines while still building them all to a common storyline.
Common storyline? Of course we can’t dismiss the big four Pay Per Views as they are there for a reason and they rake in the biggest buy rates. The storylines begin to build themselves for some of these shows: tournaments challenging to qualify for the few spots each region gets to send to the Royal Rumble, qualifying to send a team to the Survivor Series and so on.
Let’s follow this concept through a year. Let’s say Mr. X is a mid carder in the Midwest region. He wins a tournament to qualify for the King of the Ring tournament to be held at Summerslam. He doesn’t win but does make it to the finals. He returns to his region elevated enough to challenge for belts and is encouraged to assemble a team for the Survivor Series. He is seen observing many matches he doesn’t participate in before selecting a five man team which includes Gran Kuma, a man that defeated him the week before. One of Mr. X’s friends, Rappin’ Red Smith, is offended that he wasn’t selected for Mr. X’s team so he assembles a team of his own, jockeying to take the Survivor Series position. Battles between the teams culminate in a Survivor Series preview match, which Mr. X’s team wins. At the Survivor Series, Mr. X survives to the Final Survival Match. He doesn’t win but Gran Kuma does. This provides the region with an advantage in the Royal Rumble, guaranteeing that one of the Rumble qualifiers from that region will receive a low number entry (somewhere between 25-30, if we specify 30 it would shutdown storytelling in the other regions). Struggling to qualify for the Rumble begins almost immediately, highlighted by Mr. X and Gran Kuma battling. Both qualify for the Rumble. In a ceremony at the PPV, Mr. X pulls number four whereas Gran Kuma receives twenty-eight. As normal, the Rumble is a long battle. Mr. X and Gran Kuma are in the final four. Mr. X eliminated Gran Kuma and goes on to win, earning a shot at the WWE World Title at Wrestlemania. Gran Kuma accuses Mr. X of cheating to win and manipulates events so that Mr. X is willing to put his title shot on the line in a match. Mr. X wins, finally decisively defeating Gran Kuma and earning his respect. Mr. X goes onto Wrestlemania knowing that winning the title will mean touring the world, defending the belt in region after region until he is defeated.
Obviously every region would have different main storylines and each region would probably have a number of smaller storylines running through them. This is just A general storyline path idea.
By ‘break up’ I don’t mean ‘shut down’ or ‘dismantle’ but I do mean breaking up the massive touring groups that RAW and Smackdown have become and turning them into smaller groups covering specific area of the country; in other words: territories. I recommend breaking both RAW and Smackdown into 3 groups each, making six regions in all. Speaking very generally, this would probably break down into the NorthEast, Mid-Atlantic and Midwest for RAW and the Pacific Northwest, Texas (Southwest) and Mid South for Smackdown. What about ECW? I would suggest moving it to Canada. Since you now own many of the old territory names, perhaps some of those could be reused. Texas could be WCCW, perhaps the Midwest referred to as the AWA, maybe Canada as Stampede and so on. While this would not be necessary, it would be a nice nod to the past and could stimulate DVD sales for footage of the original territories.
I would recommend a separate booking committee for each territory that would be based in that area. You have many individuals on your payroll that used to work these territories when they last existed and have some understanding of the variations of interest in each area. Place Dusty Rhodes and Ric Flair in charge of the Mid-Atlantic region, Roddy Piper in the Pacific Northwest and so on. All these groups would report back to the main offices in Connecticut and would get their general guidance from there. Picture the challenge: trying to keep six (or seven) territories running separate storylines while still building them all to a common storyline.
Common storyline? Of course we can’t dismiss the big four Pay Per Views as they are there for a reason and they rake in the biggest buy rates. The storylines begin to build themselves for some of these shows: tournaments challenging to qualify for the few spots each region gets to send to the Royal Rumble, qualifying to send a team to the Survivor Series and so on.
Let’s follow this concept through a year. Let’s say Mr. X is a mid carder in the Midwest region. He wins a tournament to qualify for the King of the Ring tournament to be held at Summerslam. He doesn’t win but does make it to the finals. He returns to his region elevated enough to challenge for belts and is encouraged to assemble a team for the Survivor Series. He is seen observing many matches he doesn’t participate in before selecting a five man team which includes Gran Kuma, a man that defeated him the week before. One of Mr. X’s friends, Rappin’ Red Smith, is offended that he wasn’t selected for Mr. X’s team so he assembles a team of his own, jockeying to take the Survivor Series position. Battles between the teams culminate in a Survivor Series preview match, which Mr. X’s team wins. At the Survivor Series, Mr. X survives to the Final Survival Match. He doesn’t win but Gran Kuma does. This provides the region with an advantage in the Royal Rumble, guaranteeing that one of the Rumble qualifiers from that region will receive a low number entry (somewhere between 25-30, if we specify 30 it would shutdown storytelling in the other regions). Struggling to qualify for the Rumble begins almost immediately, highlighted by Mr. X and Gran Kuma battling. Both qualify for the Rumble. In a ceremony at the PPV, Mr. X pulls number four whereas Gran Kuma receives twenty-eight. As normal, the Rumble is a long battle. Mr. X and Gran Kuma are in the final four. Mr. X eliminated Gran Kuma and goes on to win, earning a shot at the WWE World Title at Wrestlemania. Gran Kuma accuses Mr. X of cheating to win and manipulates events so that Mr. X is willing to put his title shot on the line in a match. Mr. X wins, finally decisively defeating Gran Kuma and earning his respect. Mr. X goes onto Wrestlemania knowing that winning the title will mean touring the world, defending the belt in region after region until he is defeated.
Obviously every region would have different main storylines and each region would probably have a number of smaller storylines running through them. This is just A general storyline path idea.
28 August 2007
Continuing the Letter
Mr. Vincent Kennedy McMahon Jr.
Sir,
Allow me a few moments of introduction so that you can grasp my perspective on this matter. I’m in my thirties and have been interested in wrestling for about twenty years. My first real exposure to the sport was your syndicated ‘Superstars of Wrestling’ programme. For a few years I fed my interest with that, ‘Saturday Night’s Main Event’ and the reading of your magazine. I grew weary of the formula of the program and jumped to WCW where I found the wrestling to be more technically inclined. Over the years I bounced back and forth, often returning to your product. I own over 250 wrestling related DVDs, many of which are your product and that doesn’t touch on the magazines, books, figures, etc that I own or the cards I’ve attended. I think it’s safe to refer to me as a fan that makes a modest but regular ‘donation’ to your coffers.
With that said, the last couple months have been especially rough, haven’t they sir? The bad publicity, the increased scrutiny, the whole circus around the Benoit situation has been a problem. Public opinion is including the industry as part of the problem leading to the tragedy, blaming all sorts of things whether or not they were an influence.
Before we continue, let me make one thing perfectly clear: this letter is not meant to try to understand or blame anyone for the situation or any other wrestler that has gotten ill or died. I am NOT here to blame you for everything or anything that has ever gone wrong in wrestling. There’s no point in that blame game.
However, we must face facts. Ratings have been down. This may well be the summer lull or it could be a sign that even the hardcore fans are starting to abandon the product. The government has already been pestering you regarding the wellness policy. Business is weak at the moment and, it could be argued, has been weak for some time.
You need something to stir things up, to challenge your creativity. Historically you’ve done your best work when you’ve been challenged. Additionally you need to do something for the benefit for the workers’ health or, at the very least, something that looks good. For it to work, it needs to be something big, as anything less will be treated as ‘nothing’, a token effort. Isn’t that what some critics have called the current wellness program?
With all that in mind, I do have a suggestion.
I think you should break up the WWE.
Sir,
Allow me a few moments of introduction so that you can grasp my perspective on this matter. I’m in my thirties and have been interested in wrestling for about twenty years. My first real exposure to the sport was your syndicated ‘Superstars of Wrestling’ programme. For a few years I fed my interest with that, ‘Saturday Night’s Main Event’ and the reading of your magazine. I grew weary of the formula of the program and jumped to WCW where I found the wrestling to be more technically inclined. Over the years I bounced back and forth, often returning to your product. I own over 250 wrestling related DVDs, many of which are your product and that doesn’t touch on the magazines, books, figures, etc that I own or the cards I’ve attended. I think it’s safe to refer to me as a fan that makes a modest but regular ‘donation’ to your coffers.
With that said, the last couple months have been especially rough, haven’t they sir? The bad publicity, the increased scrutiny, the whole circus around the Benoit situation has been a problem. Public opinion is including the industry as part of the problem leading to the tragedy, blaming all sorts of things whether or not they were an influence.
Before we continue, let me make one thing perfectly clear: this letter is not meant to try to understand or blame anyone for the situation or any other wrestler that has gotten ill or died. I am NOT here to blame you for everything or anything that has ever gone wrong in wrestling. There’s no point in that blame game.
However, we must face facts. Ratings have been down. This may well be the summer lull or it could be a sign that even the hardcore fans are starting to abandon the product. The government has already been pestering you regarding the wellness policy. Business is weak at the moment and, it could be argued, has been weak for some time.
You need something to stir things up, to challenge your creativity. Historically you’ve done your best work when you’ve been challenged. Additionally you need to do something for the benefit for the workers’ health or, at the very least, something that looks good. For it to work, it needs to be something big, as anything less will be treated as ‘nothing’, a token effort. Isn’t that what some critics have called the current wellness program?
With all that in mind, I do have a suggestion.
I think you should break up the WWE.
27 August 2007
An Open Letter
An Open Letter to Vincent Kennedy McMahon Jr.
Dear Vince,
Oh, that sounds far too familiar; let me try that again.
Dear Mr. McMahon,
No, wait, that’s the name of your character and your character is dead. Was dead? Pretended to be dead. Whatever.
Dear Junior,
Definitely can’t start like that; it’s so disrespectful.
Starting over tomorrow.
Dear Vince,
Oh, that sounds far too familiar; let me try that again.
Dear Mr. McMahon,
No, wait, that’s the name of your character and your character is dead. Was dead? Pretended to be dead. Whatever.
Dear Junior,
Definitely can’t start like that; it’s so disrespectful.
Starting over tomorrow.
26 August 2007
Sunday was a new day and almost as wet as the old day had been. Considering that it wasn't raining constantly and that I had $20 in beer tickets, I had to go back. So I did, despite the fact that my feet had gotten badly blistered from the first two days and walking had grown painful.
Once inside I made a beeline for the Sprecher Beer booth, the nearest beer to the entrance I'd used. Instinctively, the accent kicked in and I asked for beer. "Could I have a Stout please?" The lady on the other side of the counter asked me to repeat myself so I did, a bit louder the second time, figuring she couldn't hear me. She smiled as she reached for a glass. She expressed her amusement for the way I'd expressed myself and asked to hear it one more time. I obliged. She had an accent as well. "Where are you from?" she asked as she pulled my beer. "Here," I responded simply. She seemed rather disappointed at that.
Wandering around by myself at Irish Fest is fun but I often find it hard to get settled, even with my feet bothering me. I visited the Rock Stage for an acoustic set that turned out to be the final performance at that stage. After listening to Scythian for a few songs, I went and bought one of their CDs. Under the circumstances, they were working hard to get the crowd to enjoy themselves and I wanted to reward that however I could. The CD is quite good as well.
Eric's clan was still all wet from the night before and weren't coming. As that news came during a spattering of rain, I didn't blame them. I hobbled around and finished my quests for the year: bought a CD (as already noted), had a baked potato, had my tea and shamrock cookie and listened to a few more bands for a bit.
As I wandered and listened, I had a moment. Irish music is so full of passion, full of life, even for the bad things in life, that it can't help but raise the spirits. Even in the rain, there was joy. It's as if the music asks "What's your problem? Ah, that's not so bad. Have a bit of a drink and realize that life will go on. Until it doesn't anymore. No point in worrying about anything too much. You'll just hurt yourself. Relax, have a bit of fun and enjoy yourself. Trouble will catch up with you soon enough and you'll have something new that's not worth worrying about."
Well, the longer songs ask that anyway.
After a few hours and the spending of the majority of my drink tickets, the rain started to come back. I took it as a hint and headed for home.
It had been a good time.
Once inside I made a beeline for the Sprecher Beer booth, the nearest beer to the entrance I'd used. Instinctively, the accent kicked in and I asked for beer. "Could I have a Stout please?" The lady on the other side of the counter asked me to repeat myself so I did, a bit louder the second time, figuring she couldn't hear me. She smiled as she reached for a glass. She expressed her amusement for the way I'd expressed myself and asked to hear it one more time. I obliged. She had an accent as well. "Where are you from?" she asked as she pulled my beer. "Here," I responded simply. She seemed rather disappointed at that.
Wandering around by myself at Irish Fest is fun but I often find it hard to get settled, even with my feet bothering me. I visited the Rock Stage for an acoustic set that turned out to be the final performance at that stage. After listening to Scythian for a few songs, I went and bought one of their CDs. Under the circumstances, they were working hard to get the crowd to enjoy themselves and I wanted to reward that however I could. The CD is quite good as well.
Eric's clan was still all wet from the night before and weren't coming. As that news came during a spattering of rain, I didn't blame them. I hobbled around and finished my quests for the year: bought a CD (as already noted), had a baked potato, had my tea and shamrock cookie and listened to a few more bands for a bit.
As I wandered and listened, I had a moment. Irish music is so full of passion, full of life, even for the bad things in life, that it can't help but raise the spirits. Even in the rain, there was joy. It's as if the music asks "What's your problem? Ah, that's not so bad. Have a bit of a drink and realize that life will go on. Until it doesn't anymore. No point in worrying about anything too much. You'll just hurt yourself. Relax, have a bit of fun and enjoy yourself. Trouble will catch up with you soon enough and you'll have something new that's not worth worrying about."
Well, the longer songs ask that anyway.
After a few hours and the spending of the majority of my drink tickets, the rain started to come back. I took it as a hint and headed for home.
It had been a good time.
25 August 2007
Saturday started off rainy. This was a problem as a lot of Irish Fest is outside and my other plans for earlier in the day involved being mostly outside as well. The rain didn't stop but had slowed by the time I headed for the Summerfest Grounds at about 3:30. When I arrived at 4, the rain had stopped, just in time for my arrival. As a result, I felt a little smug. As I was expecting the rain to stop (why? I don't know) I didn't dress for the weather, being in my normal thin overshirt and no jacket or anything.
I arranged to bump into Callie and her friends for a bit. We did our best to catch up with one another, drink a bit and be silly, all about normal. They'd been at the Fest since open and were therefore a little tired and wet already. They left around 5, promising to return later and hoping I'd since be around. As they left, the rain returned. This time, it wouldn't leave.
This was a problem as the rain influenced the beer within me to want to left me on a speedier basis than normal. While I hid in the Irish Entertainers test and watched a video about Irish rock bands, I kept having to dash into the rain in order to visit the bathroom. This quickly got annoying. I also nipped out for food once. In the midst of all this, Eric, Katy and Colin were on their way. The weather was slowing their progress and I'd get text messages detailing the reasons behind the slowdown. Just before 7 I got the 'arrived' text and headed out of my hidey-hole.
The problem here was that I was on the South end of the grounds and they were up at the Rock Stage on the North end. I walked the length of the grounds in the rain and started getting really wet. I found them (including Eric's sisters and one of the friends of said sisters) quickly enough and stood talking to them with my back to the lake, the direction that the wind and rain was coming from. It didn't take long before I was nicely soaked.
Finally, teeth chattering, I noted that, before this, my mother could at least say I had enough sense to get out of the rain. I needed to get out of the open, expressed this and started moving. We visited a nearby merchants tent where I seriously concerned buying any sweatshirt or sweater I saw. From there we headed to the large 'Tea Room' and used Colin's stroller to carve out a spot for us. After drying out slightly, we returned to the rain to get food. While I got shepherd's pies for myself and Eric, he went and got coffee. This was a brilliant idea. Between the two, I shook off the cold.
This also allowed us to bump into Eric's friend Mike, his wife Emily and their friend Kurt (Curt?). A spirited, moderately inebriated conversation sprang up from this meeting as we got caught up and chatted with each other.
Seven Nations were scheduled to start at 8 and we were keen to see them play. We tried heading back to the Rock stage but the rain persisted. We made it to the Sprecher Beer booth and refueled. The Celtic Roots tent was nearby and we ducked in there as the rain was too intense. Once there, our energetic conversation resumed. Eric's sisters ducked out to check on the concert and returned wet a few moments later to inform us that they'd cancelled the show due to the rain. We just kept talking.
By the time Colin had finished eating, it was a bit after 9. The rain was still falling and we took that as a sign. It was time to go home and we did.
It was miserable weather and should have been a rotten time. It wasn't. It was still fun. Even an unpleasant day at Irish Fest with your friends is still a surprisingly good time.
I arranged to bump into Callie and her friends for a bit. We did our best to catch up with one another, drink a bit and be silly, all about normal. They'd been at the Fest since open and were therefore a little tired and wet already. They left around 5, promising to return later and hoping I'd since be around. As they left, the rain returned. This time, it wouldn't leave.
This was a problem as the rain influenced the beer within me to want to left me on a speedier basis than normal. While I hid in the Irish Entertainers test and watched a video about Irish rock bands, I kept having to dash into the rain in order to visit the bathroom. This quickly got annoying. I also nipped out for food once. In the midst of all this, Eric, Katy and Colin were on their way. The weather was slowing their progress and I'd get text messages detailing the reasons behind the slowdown. Just before 7 I got the 'arrived' text and headed out of my hidey-hole.
The problem here was that I was on the South end of the grounds and they were up at the Rock Stage on the North end. I walked the length of the grounds in the rain and started getting really wet. I found them (including Eric's sisters and one of the friends of said sisters) quickly enough and stood talking to them with my back to the lake, the direction that the wind and rain was coming from. It didn't take long before I was nicely soaked.
Finally, teeth chattering, I noted that, before this, my mother could at least say I had enough sense to get out of the rain. I needed to get out of the open, expressed this and started moving. We visited a nearby merchants tent where I seriously concerned buying any sweatshirt or sweater I saw. From there we headed to the large 'Tea Room' and used Colin's stroller to carve out a spot for us. After drying out slightly, we returned to the rain to get food. While I got shepherd's pies for myself and Eric, he went and got coffee. This was a brilliant idea. Between the two, I shook off the cold.
This also allowed us to bump into Eric's friend Mike, his wife Emily and their friend Kurt (Curt?). A spirited, moderately inebriated conversation sprang up from this meeting as we got caught up and chatted with each other.
Seven Nations were scheduled to start at 8 and we were keen to see them play. We tried heading back to the Rock stage but the rain persisted. We made it to the Sprecher Beer booth and refueled. The Celtic Roots tent was nearby and we ducked in there as the rain was too intense. Once there, our energetic conversation resumed. Eric's sisters ducked out to check on the concert and returned wet a few moments later to inform us that they'd cancelled the show due to the rain. We just kept talking.
By the time Colin had finished eating, it was a bit after 9. The rain was still falling and we took that as a sign. It was time to go home and we did.
It was miserable weather and should have been a rotten time. It wasn't. It was still fun. Even an unpleasant day at Irish Fest with your friends is still a surprisingly good time.
23 August 2007
People who have had a chance to speak with me on any kind of regular basis probably know that I like silly voices and accents. I've been a mimic since I was little, parroting weird expressions as soon as I heard them. I managed to get this aspect of the process under control before I ever got beat up for it.
When I was younger, I thought I was quite brilliant at this sort of thing. As I grew older I decided that I was good at it but probably couldn't fool someone that actually had the accent I was mimicking. I figured my British accent would sound to British ears like most British people sound when they mimic Americans: off.
When I'm at Irish Fest, the Irish accent kicks in instinctively. Once it or any other voice gets a firm hold on my speech patterns, it's very hard to shake off and return to normal sounding speech. Add beer and this return to normal becomes nearly impossible. By ten o clock Friday night at Irish Fest, I don't think my speech made sense to anyone around me due to the thickness of the accent I was using and the speed at which I was speaking. It's very possible that Katy and Eric understood me but it's just as likely that they were humouring me. They know I'm not well in the head.
About this time we had to sit down and let young Colin feed. Out came the bottle and he patiently ate. On the other side of the table was another group of people that also had a young lad with them, only about two weeks younger (maybe older) than Colin. We had conversations that were separate, would mingle briefly and then spilt apart again. It was quite fun.
The whole time my accent is totally out of control. After a long burst of gibberish from me, the young lad next to me just started staring at me, a totally logical act under the circumstances. His dad smiled and noted "I think he likes your accent."
I smiled and shrugged my shoulders broadly. "And it's fake." I noted.
Everyone laughed and that's what was most important to me.
When I was younger, I thought I was quite brilliant at this sort of thing. As I grew older I decided that I was good at it but probably couldn't fool someone that actually had the accent I was mimicking. I figured my British accent would sound to British ears like most British people sound when they mimic Americans: off.
When I'm at Irish Fest, the Irish accent kicks in instinctively. Once it or any other voice gets a firm hold on my speech patterns, it's very hard to shake off and return to normal sounding speech. Add beer and this return to normal becomes nearly impossible. By ten o clock Friday night at Irish Fest, I don't think my speech made sense to anyone around me due to the thickness of the accent I was using and the speed at which I was speaking. It's very possible that Katy and Eric understood me but it's just as likely that they were humouring me. They know I'm not well in the head.
About this time we had to sit down and let young Colin feed. Out came the bottle and he patiently ate. On the other side of the table was another group of people that also had a young lad with them, only about two weeks younger (maybe older) than Colin. We had conversations that were separate, would mingle briefly and then spilt apart again. It was quite fun.
The whole time my accent is totally out of control. After a long burst of gibberish from me, the young lad next to me just started staring at me, a totally logical act under the circumstances. His dad smiled and noted "I think he likes your accent."
I smiled and shrugged my shoulders broadly. "And it's fake." I noted.
Everyone laughed and that's what was most important to me.
20 August 2007
Friday Night at Irish Fest
Friday night at Irish Fest was providing rather complicated. On the one hand, I was expecting to spend most of the night hanging out with Eric, Katy, their young lad Colin and whatever other members of Eric’s family that were near us at the time. On the other hand, my parents, one of my aunts and a couple of her adult grandchildren were going to there as well. As a result, I was trying to meet up with both groups. For about an hour, I was failing at both.
You see, Eric’s group was down at the South gate, working the door, whereas my family was up at the Rock Stage on the North side of the grounds to see the band that my second cousin’s boyfriend plays in. It’s at least a fifteen minute walk to go from one to the other. After gaining entry at the South gate and getting a status from Eric on when he expected to arrive, I headed up to the Rock stage looking for my family. Not finding them, I returned to the South gate to check for Eric and then back to the Rock stage. During this process, I noted at least a few nice looking young ladies and one red-headed young lady that was very nice looking indeed. As Eric and I are both fond of fiery hair, I mentally marked her, hoping that we’d see her again so I could point her out to Eric.
The band that my cousin’s boyfriend is in started playing at 6pm. About 6:15 as I stood at the Rock Stage looking for my parents and enjoying the music, my phone buzzed with a text message. Eric had arrived. I scurried to the South Gate, there was much rejoicing, more beer was purchased, I spoke to him of the red-haired young lady and then we collected Katy and the boy before heading back towards the Rock Stage.
Not far before the Rock Stage is a Sprecher Beer booth and we needed to pause there to refill. As we completed this transaction, my mother called wondering where I was. As she was still at the Rock Stage and it was loud in general, neither of us heard the other very well. I tried to communicate our location and that it was nearby but held little hope of finding them quickly. Thirty seconds later, my parents had found us.
We exchanged greetings, the baby was cooed over and then it was noted that the band was nearly done. We wandered over to the Rock Stage for the last song and a half, trying to talk. I looked for my aunt, as I know what she looks like and I didn’t know what my second cousins looked like. I didn’t see her. I was informed that she wasn’t feeling well and hadn’t come. My cousins had and, as the music ceased, my mom started leading me to them to say hello. As we walked down the aisle, I scanned the crowd, not clear as to where we were going. To my delight, I saw the attractive young red-haired lady, pleased that I would be able to point her out to Eric afterall.
Math flashed through my head, proving that the beer had yet to addle it. I added our general course to our reason for walking this way with the young lady I saw. Moments later I was being introduced to the red-haired young lady who, as it turns out, is my second cousin.
After we chatted for a minute or two, my father expressed that he had a headache coming on from all the noise and a lack of food. As they had this as a quest, we separated and I quickly located my friends at the back of the stage, sitting on bleachers as they rocked Colin in his stroller. From this position, I pointed out the red-haired young lady, using her slightly larger sister as a reference point. Despite our distance from them, they were easy to make out. Once he had spotted her, I followed with “That’s my second cousin.”
Eric immediately started laughing. Katy did an excellent slow burn turn towards me, look of distain on her face, and noted “Ewwwww.” I protested my innocence. “I didn’t know at the time!” Eric, for his part, continued laughing and rightfully so.
This very quickly became the Best Joke Ever.
Eric would make a comment to the effect of ‘maybe if you dressed her like a second cousin she’d be okay’. My punchline was similar in construction, like my text message to Eric on Saturday: ‘The attractive young lady at the restaurant just complimented me on my sideburns. Hope I’m not related to her.’
To be fair, ‘Hope I’m not related to her’ has got to be one of the creepiest ways to call a young lady attractive. After this weekend, it seems like a reasonable check to make.
You see, Eric’s group was down at the South gate, working the door, whereas my family was up at the Rock Stage on the North side of the grounds to see the band that my second cousin’s boyfriend plays in. It’s at least a fifteen minute walk to go from one to the other. After gaining entry at the South gate and getting a status from Eric on when he expected to arrive, I headed up to the Rock stage looking for my family. Not finding them, I returned to the South gate to check for Eric and then back to the Rock stage. During this process, I noted at least a few nice looking young ladies and one red-headed young lady that was very nice looking indeed. As Eric and I are both fond of fiery hair, I mentally marked her, hoping that we’d see her again so I could point her out to Eric.
The band that my cousin’s boyfriend is in started playing at 6pm. About 6:15 as I stood at the Rock Stage looking for my parents and enjoying the music, my phone buzzed with a text message. Eric had arrived. I scurried to the South Gate, there was much rejoicing, more beer was purchased, I spoke to him of the red-haired young lady and then we collected Katy and the boy before heading back towards the Rock Stage.
Not far before the Rock Stage is a Sprecher Beer booth and we needed to pause there to refill. As we completed this transaction, my mother called wondering where I was. As she was still at the Rock Stage and it was loud in general, neither of us heard the other very well. I tried to communicate our location and that it was nearby but held little hope of finding them quickly. Thirty seconds later, my parents had found us.
We exchanged greetings, the baby was cooed over and then it was noted that the band was nearly done. We wandered over to the Rock Stage for the last song and a half, trying to talk. I looked for my aunt, as I know what she looks like and I didn’t know what my second cousins looked like. I didn’t see her. I was informed that she wasn’t feeling well and hadn’t come. My cousins had and, as the music ceased, my mom started leading me to them to say hello. As we walked down the aisle, I scanned the crowd, not clear as to where we were going. To my delight, I saw the attractive young red-haired lady, pleased that I would be able to point her out to Eric afterall.
Math flashed through my head, proving that the beer had yet to addle it. I added our general course to our reason for walking this way with the young lady I saw. Moments later I was being introduced to the red-haired young lady who, as it turns out, is my second cousin.
After we chatted for a minute or two, my father expressed that he had a headache coming on from all the noise and a lack of food. As they had this as a quest, we separated and I quickly located my friends at the back of the stage, sitting on bleachers as they rocked Colin in his stroller. From this position, I pointed out the red-haired young lady, using her slightly larger sister as a reference point. Despite our distance from them, they were easy to make out. Once he had spotted her, I followed with “That’s my second cousin.”
Eric immediately started laughing. Katy did an excellent slow burn turn towards me, look of distain on her face, and noted “Ewwwww.” I protested my innocence. “I didn’t know at the time!” Eric, for his part, continued laughing and rightfully so.
This very quickly became the Best Joke Ever.
Eric would make a comment to the effect of ‘maybe if you dressed her like a second cousin she’d be okay’. My punchline was similar in construction, like my text message to Eric on Saturday: ‘The attractive young lady at the restaurant just complimented me on my sideburns. Hope I’m not related to her.’
To be fair, ‘Hope I’m not related to her’ has got to be one of the creepiest ways to call a young lady attractive. After this weekend, it seems like a reasonable check to make.
09 August 2007
Flashback to '02 Review of a Movie no one else will watch
'Guru The Mad Monk' - 19??
Story in Brief: Guru is in charge of the spiritual health of his island community. He is also a judge and warden of a prison. He has the power to give last rites and execute the punishment. Unfortunately for those who look to Guru for help, Guru is mad and out for himself. When it's time for Guru to be replaced, well, he doesn't take to the thought well...
Thoughts:
This is the first film by Andy Milligan I've ever seen. I've read about him for years, how his productions were cheap, movies strange. None of this seemed like a bad thing as many of the films I enjoy are described as such. So what did I think?
This film is a nightmare. I mean that in good and bad ways. It's bad because the movie is cheap and awkwardly acted by many of the participants. The effects are cheap, the film used was probably cheap, the actors were likely cheap, the script was probably cheap as well. It is a cheap movie. It is so cheap that it does start to take on the feel of a dream, a nightmare, a strange world were things don't play out correctly, but you know you'll be safe at the end.
There's a trailer for this movie and an interview with a gentleman that worked on some of Andy's last films. He's politely disposed towards the Andy he knew, an Andy near the end of his career and life, but admits those films were garbage. He also notes he hasn't seen most (any?) of Andy's earlier work, including the movie on the disk. Strange.
Video: The video is full frame and heavily damaged. The colour is faded. Considering the cheap nature of the film it's unlikely it's managed to survive this long anywhere else in a better copy. On the positive side, I didn't notice any digital problems, so it was mastered well.
Sound: Again, this is probably as good as it gets. It's not good and it's often tinny, but that's likely more a problem with the recording of the film when it was made as opposed to a problem with the print used.
Not recommended. It's only $10 but if you're curious, try renting it first. If you are a fan of Andy Milligan films, you probably already own this, so never mind my opinion. This is not the sort of movie the average person would be able to watch, let alone finish.
Story in Brief: Guru is in charge of the spiritual health of his island community. He is also a judge and warden of a prison. He has the power to give last rites and execute the punishment. Unfortunately for those who look to Guru for help, Guru is mad and out for himself. When it's time for Guru to be replaced, well, he doesn't take to the thought well...
Thoughts:
This is the first film by Andy Milligan I've ever seen. I've read about him for years, how his productions were cheap, movies strange. None of this seemed like a bad thing as many of the films I enjoy are described as such. So what did I think?
This film is a nightmare. I mean that in good and bad ways. It's bad because the movie is cheap and awkwardly acted by many of the participants. The effects are cheap, the film used was probably cheap, the actors were likely cheap, the script was probably cheap as well. It is a cheap movie. It is so cheap that it does start to take on the feel of a dream, a nightmare, a strange world were things don't play out correctly, but you know you'll be safe at the end.
There's a trailer for this movie and an interview with a gentleman that worked on some of Andy's last films. He's politely disposed towards the Andy he knew, an Andy near the end of his career and life, but admits those films were garbage. He also notes he hasn't seen most (any?) of Andy's earlier work, including the movie on the disk. Strange.
Video: The video is full frame and heavily damaged. The colour is faded. Considering the cheap nature of the film it's unlikely it's managed to survive this long anywhere else in a better copy. On the positive side, I didn't notice any digital problems, so it was mastered well.
Sound: Again, this is probably as good as it gets. It's not good and it's often tinny, but that's likely more a problem with the recording of the film when it was made as opposed to a problem with the print used.
Not recommended. It's only $10 but if you're curious, try renting it first. If you are a fan of Andy Milligan films, you probably already own this, so never mind my opinion. This is not the sort of movie the average person would be able to watch, let alone finish.
04 August 2007
A Bedtime Story from Uncle Steve
All tucked in dere? Okay, tonight I’ll tell ya da story of Goldylocks and da Tree Bears. Tree. Yeah, Tree. Wun, Two, Tree. Got it? All right den.
Once upon a time dere were Tree Bears; a Papa Bear, a Mama Bear and a Baby Bear. Papa Bear liked to drink and would yell at Baby Bear dat he was an accident. When he would say dat, Baby Bear would cry and Mama Bear would slug Papa Bear. But he didn’t really mean it and mosta da time dey all got along just fine.
Every morning after making breakfast, da Bears would go for a walk. Papa Bear needed da exercise to work off his beer gut. Baby Bear needed the exercise ‘cause he had the childhood obesity from too much sittin’ ‘round playing video games and such. Mama Bear didn’t need the exercise so much but she knew if she didn’t go with ‘em that they wouldn’t actually go for the walk, they’d just get outta sight of the house, sit down and come back in a half-hour. So, off dey went.
While dey was gone, Goldylocks stumbled upon dere house. She wus out camping with a bunch of her friends and wus lookin’ for the bathroom. She’s onea dem gals that just can’t ‘go’ in the middle of the forest ‘cause she’s scared that a bug or an animal are gonna crawl into her nether regions while she’s takin’ care of business. Why woulda bug or an animal head upstream is what I don’t understand.
Now Goldy is onea dem broads that drinks so much that she passes out at parties and guys take advantage of the situation. She’s simple, got blond hair and a big rack so she attracts attention. At eight in the morning, she’s still drunk, that’s how drunk she gets. When she stumbles on the Bears house, she mistakes it for a Ranger station and in she goes.
Once da pressure is off, she realizes she’s hungry. She sees the Bears porridge sitting there cooling and heads for it. She tries Papa Bear’s porridge but he likes it with Tabasco sauce and it was too hot for her. She tries Mama Bear’s porridge but Mama Bear has a canker sore that the heat bothers so her’s was ice cold from the ice cubes in it so that was no good either. Baby Bear’s porridge had cooled off just right and she ate it up.
Now dat she ate, she got tired again and headed for the bedroom. Papa Bear’s bed was no good ‘cause he’s got a rock hard mattress ‘cause of the support he needs for his bad back. Mama Bear’s bed was all filled with pillows and junk so that was no good. She fell into Baby Bear’s bed and wus soon fast asleep.
Dat’s when da Bears come home. They walk in and immediately see da dere house has been invaded; dere’s toilet paper dragged from the bathroom to da kitchen, the breakfast is all messed up and dere’s a trail of knocked over furniture dat leads to the bedroom. When dey get dere, Goldy is still fast asleep. Baby Bear’s been crying dis ‘hole time ‘cause he’s scared and Mama Bear’s is all worked up ‘cause Baby Bear’s crying and Papa Bear’s mad ‘cause of all dis yelling. So he climbs up on the bed, bones Goldy to death and den dey eat her.
Da Moral of the Story is: If you drink so much dat you wander away from your friends dat are looking out for you, you might get screwed up so bad dat you die.
Night kids. I gotta cold Pabst waitin’ for me downstairs.
Once upon a time dere were Tree Bears; a Papa Bear, a Mama Bear and a Baby Bear. Papa Bear liked to drink and would yell at Baby Bear dat he was an accident. When he would say dat, Baby Bear would cry and Mama Bear would slug Papa Bear. But he didn’t really mean it and mosta da time dey all got along just fine.
Every morning after making breakfast, da Bears would go for a walk. Papa Bear needed da exercise to work off his beer gut. Baby Bear needed the exercise ‘cause he had the childhood obesity from too much sittin’ ‘round playing video games and such. Mama Bear didn’t need the exercise so much but she knew if she didn’t go with ‘em that they wouldn’t actually go for the walk, they’d just get outta sight of the house, sit down and come back in a half-hour. So, off dey went.
While dey was gone, Goldylocks stumbled upon dere house. She wus out camping with a bunch of her friends and wus lookin’ for the bathroom. She’s onea dem gals that just can’t ‘go’ in the middle of the forest ‘cause she’s scared that a bug or an animal are gonna crawl into her nether regions while she’s takin’ care of business. Why woulda bug or an animal head upstream is what I don’t understand.
Now Goldy is onea dem broads that drinks so much that she passes out at parties and guys take advantage of the situation. She’s simple, got blond hair and a big rack so she attracts attention. At eight in the morning, she’s still drunk, that’s how drunk she gets. When she stumbles on the Bears house, she mistakes it for a Ranger station and in she goes.
Once da pressure is off, she realizes she’s hungry. She sees the Bears porridge sitting there cooling and heads for it. She tries Papa Bear’s porridge but he likes it with Tabasco sauce and it was too hot for her. She tries Mama Bear’s porridge but Mama Bear has a canker sore that the heat bothers so her’s was ice cold from the ice cubes in it so that was no good either. Baby Bear’s porridge had cooled off just right and she ate it up.
Now dat she ate, she got tired again and headed for the bedroom. Papa Bear’s bed was no good ‘cause he’s got a rock hard mattress ‘cause of the support he needs for his bad back. Mama Bear’s bed was all filled with pillows and junk so that was no good. She fell into Baby Bear’s bed and wus soon fast asleep.
Dat’s when da Bears come home. They walk in and immediately see da dere house has been invaded; dere’s toilet paper dragged from the bathroom to da kitchen, the breakfast is all messed up and dere’s a trail of knocked over furniture dat leads to the bedroom. When dey get dere, Goldy is still fast asleep. Baby Bear’s been crying dis ‘hole time ‘cause he’s scared and Mama Bear’s is all worked up ‘cause Baby Bear’s crying and Papa Bear’s mad ‘cause of all dis yelling. So he climbs up on the bed, bones Goldy to death and den dey eat her.
Da Moral of the Story is: If you drink so much dat you wander away from your friends dat are looking out for you, you might get screwed up so bad dat you die.
Night kids. I gotta cold Pabst waitin’ for me downstairs.
02 August 2007
Won't Somebody Think of the Children?
I went to Best Buy yesterday and, as it's been awhile since my last visit to Best Buy, I found a number of things that interested me that got purchased. I got carded buying a video game.
That was weird. I don't believe I've ever been carded for a video game before. I didn't see the display on the register to see what question it asked the employee (it looked like something along the lines of 'does the customer look...' moreso than 'is the customer...'). I don't believe I look too young to purchase a M rated game (17 or older).
I'm not disappointed in the employee or the company for having this in place. The employee was very friendly and I have no problem showing my ID to prove I'm the old man that I am. If this is the price I have to pay in order for people who have NO clue about video games to feel safe that 'mature' games are been kept away from children, I can handle that.
So, if that's the case, why didn't I get carded for the R rated movies I bought? The register said nothing about those. In theory, if I was a 16 year old trying to get into a R rated movie in the theatre, I would be carded and prevented entry (in theory anyway). Why was I carded for a video game and not a movie with the 'same' rating? There are thousands of R rated movies with all sorts of 'adult concepts' in them and a relative handful of M rated video games. So, why the difference?
Video games are more interactive? It's one thing to see these things on a screen but another to 'participate' in them. I don't think the difference is that significant. I could be wrong but, going back to the comparison between movies and games, the greater percentage of movies must create a larger influence.
Is it because that 'video games are for kids'? Just like comic books are for kids, huh?
Like kids can afford comic books... what hooey...
That was weird. I don't believe I've ever been carded for a video game before. I didn't see the display on the register to see what question it asked the employee (it looked like something along the lines of 'does the customer look...' moreso than 'is the customer...'). I don't believe I look too young to purchase a M rated game (17 or older).
I'm not disappointed in the employee or the company for having this in place. The employee was very friendly and I have no problem showing my ID to prove I'm the old man that I am. If this is the price I have to pay in order for people who have NO clue about video games to feel safe that 'mature' games are been kept away from children, I can handle that.
So, if that's the case, why didn't I get carded for the R rated movies I bought? The register said nothing about those. In theory, if I was a 16 year old trying to get into a R rated movie in the theatre, I would be carded and prevented entry (in theory anyway). Why was I carded for a video game and not a movie with the 'same' rating? There are thousands of R rated movies with all sorts of 'adult concepts' in them and a relative handful of M rated video games. So, why the difference?
Video games are more interactive? It's one thing to see these things on a screen but another to 'participate' in them. I don't think the difference is that significant. I could be wrong but, going back to the comparison between movies and games, the greater percentage of movies must create a larger influence.
Is it because that 'video games are for kids'? Just like comic books are for kids, huh?
Like kids can afford comic books... what hooey...
31 July 2007
Rules/Lessons from the water park:
1) If you are a female and can be in any way referred to as attractive, you will get looked at/admired/leered at in the water park, no matter how demure your swimming costume. Even men who normally would be very respectful of a lady, or would at least try to be subtle about ‘checking out’ a female, will lose that restraint at a water park. There is too much flesh on display. It can’t be helped; it’s instinct.
2) Put on sunblock. Then put on more sunblock. If you are swimming all day, refresh the sunblock as the day goes on. Not doing this can lead to sunburn. It did for me at least.
3) If you are a female and are in any way could be referred to as attractive and choose to wear a two piece bathing suit, you will get looked at by men. Again, it’s a flesh thing; if you show that much of it, the eyes will come.
4) While I lack a strong level of physical fitness, I am not grotesquely overweight. If I stand up straight I can almost pass as merely pudgy as opposed to having a beer gut. I’m sure the sight of my pasty belly doesn’t draw the ladies but I don’t think it’s overly off-putting either. Men really only have the option of trunks. If the gut is big enough, wear a shirt. I saw many that took this option during my trip. Saves on the sunblock as well.
5) If you are a female that has reached a certain age or weight or … sagginess, do not wear a two piece bathing suit. You’ll still draw the eye but not in a good way. A mother and daughter wearing matching bikinis is a dangerous thing, especially if the daughter is of a legal age. It’s less cute at that point and more asking for trouble. Think first. Consider what people might think about your choice of outfit. If you decide you don’t care what people think, you cannot be offended when they think it. Or stare.
6) There is no rule 6!
7) If you decide to wear an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini, people should be allowed to sing at you.
2) Put on sunblock. Then put on more sunblock. If you are swimming all day, refresh the sunblock as the day goes on. Not doing this can lead to sunburn. It did for me at least.
3) If you are a female and are in any way could be referred to as attractive and choose to wear a two piece bathing suit, you will get looked at by men. Again, it’s a flesh thing; if you show that much of it, the eyes will come.
4) While I lack a strong level of physical fitness, I am not grotesquely overweight. If I stand up straight I can almost pass as merely pudgy as opposed to having a beer gut. I’m sure the sight of my pasty belly doesn’t draw the ladies but I don’t think it’s overly off-putting either. Men really only have the option of trunks. If the gut is big enough, wear a shirt. I saw many that took this option during my trip. Saves on the sunblock as well.
5) If you are a female that has reached a certain age or weight or … sagginess, do not wear a two piece bathing suit. You’ll still draw the eye but not in a good way. A mother and daughter wearing matching bikinis is a dangerous thing, especially if the daughter is of a legal age. It’s less cute at that point and more asking for trouble. Think first. Consider what people might think about your choice of outfit. If you decide you don’t care what people think, you cannot be offended when they think it. Or stare.
6) There is no rule 6!
7) If you decide to wear an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini, people should be allowed to sing at you.
29 July 2007
Checking in
Let's see: Had nothing simple to say for a bit. Been on vacation a bit. Been recovering from said vacation since. Am now swarthy, sunburned and in my glasses. Hopefully most of that will be switching back to normal soon. I don't mind the swarthy so much.
Yesterday I was at a wedding and then over to the East Side to catch up with friends, one of which I hadn't seen since his dad's funeral this past winter. I'm glad I did. For one, because it was fun, and also because I hate having a layer of friends that I only see when something good (wedding) or bad (funeral) happens. This was just hanging out and the request came at the perfect time as opposed to days where I'm triple booked. How can I have nothing to do for a stretch and then, suddenly, everyone wakes up one morning looking for me? Instant popularity. Weird.
Transformers - thumbs up
Simpsons - thumbs up
More reviews to come. I found a batch of old DVD reviews I did before this blog was even a thought and I might repurpose them here. I haven't checked to see if they still amuse in any way yet.
Eitherway, I haven't forgotten about you. More to come.
Yesterday I was at a wedding and then over to the East Side to catch up with friends, one of which I hadn't seen since his dad's funeral this past winter. I'm glad I did. For one, because it was fun, and also because I hate having a layer of friends that I only see when something good (wedding) or bad (funeral) happens. This was just hanging out and the request came at the perfect time as opposed to days where I'm triple booked. How can I have nothing to do for a stretch and then, suddenly, everyone wakes up one morning looking for me? Instant popularity. Weird.
Transformers - thumbs up
Simpsons - thumbs up
More reviews to come. I found a batch of old DVD reviews I did before this blog was even a thought and I might repurpose them here. I haven't checked to see if they still amuse in any way yet.
Eitherway, I haven't forgotten about you. More to come.
11 July 2007
What are you?
As humans I think we always work to define the world we see around us. Each of us defines it a little differently due to our unique experience on the planet. Sometimes we accept the definitions of others in our perception of the world. Take this definition if you like.
Are you an enthusiastic or a snob?
As I believe I’ve mentioned before, everyone has an interest, a something that fascinates them to a degree that they are eager to devote time to it, whether it’s flowers or cars or baseball or comic books or whatever. In every hobby group I’ve seen, been near or been part of, I’ve seen enthusiasts and snobs.
The enthusiasts are generally fun people. They enjoy their hobby and can talk about it at some length given the chance. Often they can be so enthusiastic that they can talk you into investigating their hobby at length, even if you previously had no interest in it. They may not make you one of them, but you can respect their energy for their hobby, seeing how it matches your energy for your hobby. Sometimes they can be a bit boring because they won’t notice their energy for their hobby doesn’t match your energy for their hobby and they talk about it too much. They focus on the happier aspects of their hobby rather than the negative but they are often not blind to the negative. On the whole, they are a positive group.
The snobs are generally annoying people. They are not bad people but something in their personality causes their expressions regarding their hobby to come out twisted. They want the best for their hobby, whether it is flowers or cars or baseball or comic books or whatever, but very rarely find the best. They often note the problems with the physical manifestations of their hobby or the other people that also participate in that hobby, noting how they are doing it wrong. They use their critical thinking skills, which is a good thing, but often express their concerns in a manner that is more critical than helpful. Their reaction to their hobby may cause you to wonder why they bother with their hobby as it seems that they get no joy out of it. Their expectations for their hobby are sometimes not realistic. On the whole, they are a negative group.
Are you an enthusiastic or a snob?
Are you an enthusiastic or a snob?
As I believe I’ve mentioned before, everyone has an interest, a something that fascinates them to a degree that they are eager to devote time to it, whether it’s flowers or cars or baseball or comic books or whatever. In every hobby group I’ve seen, been near or been part of, I’ve seen enthusiasts and snobs.
The enthusiasts are generally fun people. They enjoy their hobby and can talk about it at some length given the chance. Often they can be so enthusiastic that they can talk you into investigating their hobby at length, even if you previously had no interest in it. They may not make you one of them, but you can respect their energy for their hobby, seeing how it matches your energy for your hobby. Sometimes they can be a bit boring because they won’t notice their energy for their hobby doesn’t match your energy for their hobby and they talk about it too much. They focus on the happier aspects of their hobby rather than the negative but they are often not blind to the negative. On the whole, they are a positive group.
The snobs are generally annoying people. They are not bad people but something in their personality causes their expressions regarding their hobby to come out twisted. They want the best for their hobby, whether it is flowers or cars or baseball or comic books or whatever, but very rarely find the best. They often note the problems with the physical manifestations of their hobby or the other people that also participate in that hobby, noting how they are doing it wrong. They use their critical thinking skills, which is a good thing, but often express their concerns in a manner that is more critical than helpful. Their reaction to their hobby may cause you to wonder why they bother with their hobby as it seems that they get no joy out of it. Their expectations for their hobby are sometimes not realistic. On the whole, they are a negative group.
Are you an enthusiastic or a snob?
02 July 2007
Fresh Fiction - Wrapup
That was an experiment and, from my perspective, it was rather fun. The primary part of the experiment was the speed with which it was written. Normally I construct the entire story and start releasing it as a section is completed or once it is entirely complete. I wrote the first segment over the course of a couple days. It was completed Wednesday and uploaded that Friday. That rapid turn-around time was interesting to try to accomplish.
My question to you the reader (all three of you): what do you think happened? We really have so little data to go on but what happened? Why did it happen? Do we really know? All questions I find too appropriate for life in the past week.
Anyway, as regards this story, we might be able to answer some of those questions eventually. I'm working on it anyway (that's the other part of the experiment). Janie and Psmith's story together has ended but it may not be the end of the story.
Thanks!
My question to you the reader (all three of you): what do you think happened? We really have so little data to go on but what happened? Why did it happen? Do we really know? All questions I find too appropriate for life in the past week.
Anyway, as regards this story, we might be able to answer some of those questions eventually. I'm working on it anyway (that's the other part of the experiment). Janie and Psmith's story together has ended but it may not be the end of the story.
Thanks!
28 June 2007
Fresh Fiction For Friday - Final (Blog Entry #100)
There was a pause.
She was unable to understand the pause. It seemed to be lasting forever but part of her brain argued that only seconds had passed since her statement. Still he did not speak, had no response for her. How long did it take to think of saying “Me too?” His eyes had widened in surprise and his jaw had loosened, his mouth remained closed but his jaw had definitely dropped as part of his surprised, but yet he had no verbal response for her. Why not?
Finally his lips moved. They twitched, he moistened them and then managed to speak. “No you don’t.”
She shook as if slapped across the face. “How… how can you say that?” Janie questioned. Tears escaped her, threatening to make the dance floor a slip hazard. Her knees grew weak; were it not for his physical support, she may well have collapsed.
His mask of calm returned to his expression. “My apologies, I did not express myself as clearly as I normally strive to do. The emotion you are experiencing is not romantic in nature but is a reaction, a sign of appreciation for the small part I have been able to play in your recovery. I have been able to provide you with a level of stability and you feel that my continued presence will only increase your stability. I must inform you that this is not the case. There are others that also need my assistance and, at some point, I will have to depart you in order to assist them. Does that clarify my earlier statement?”
They continued dancing. Janie stared ahead blankly at his collar, trying to stem the flow of her tears. His words felt so meaningless. Quietly at first, but with increasing strength, she found words. “How? How do you know how I feel? When have you ever asked me what I feel? I thought I understood how you felt for me. Even when you were being strict with me when I wouldn’t be strict with myself, I always felt an underlying kindness. You did everything I asked to help me and would never let me further harm myself.” Expressing this drained her. She attempted to lean in, rest herself on her shoulder to regain strength but he held her upright, supporting her in this regard but denying her the comfort of further contact. This resistance further confused her. “How can you tell me that you don’t love me?”
He stopped their dancing. Gently, he cupped her chin in his hand and directed her gaze upward to meet his own. “This is what you feel?” he inquired. She smiled a watery smile at him. Further words failing her, she nodded, shaking loose trapped tears. His voice was still calm but had an added gentleness when he spoke again. “If that is the case, then I am afraid I must tender my resignation from your employ.”
He released her chin which allowed it to droop in shock. A thought occurred through her haze of confusion. “Are you quitting because you couldn’t date an employer?”
“While I do indeed feel that way, it is not my motivation in leaving your service.” He stepped back so that he could bow slightly to her. “Goodbye.” With that completed, he walked away.
Janie watched as he strode away, her heart begging him to stop and walk back to her. He did not. As he disappeared into the crowd, she lost sight of him. She tried to call after him but her voice betrayed her, emitting as a whisper rather than a shout. “No, please, don’t go.” There was no way from him to hear her over the music and his lack of return seemed to prove that he had not heard her emotion filled whisper. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you have no feelings at all.”
She was unable to understand the pause. It seemed to be lasting forever but part of her brain argued that only seconds had passed since her statement. Still he did not speak, had no response for her. How long did it take to think of saying “Me too?” His eyes had widened in surprise and his jaw had loosened, his mouth remained closed but his jaw had definitely dropped as part of his surprised, but yet he had no verbal response for her. Why not?
Finally his lips moved. They twitched, he moistened them and then managed to speak. “No you don’t.”
She shook as if slapped across the face. “How… how can you say that?” Janie questioned. Tears escaped her, threatening to make the dance floor a slip hazard. Her knees grew weak; were it not for his physical support, she may well have collapsed.
His mask of calm returned to his expression. “My apologies, I did not express myself as clearly as I normally strive to do. The emotion you are experiencing is not romantic in nature but is a reaction, a sign of appreciation for the small part I have been able to play in your recovery. I have been able to provide you with a level of stability and you feel that my continued presence will only increase your stability. I must inform you that this is not the case. There are others that also need my assistance and, at some point, I will have to depart you in order to assist them. Does that clarify my earlier statement?”
They continued dancing. Janie stared ahead blankly at his collar, trying to stem the flow of her tears. His words felt so meaningless. Quietly at first, but with increasing strength, she found words. “How? How do you know how I feel? When have you ever asked me what I feel? I thought I understood how you felt for me. Even when you were being strict with me when I wouldn’t be strict with myself, I always felt an underlying kindness. You did everything I asked to help me and would never let me further harm myself.” Expressing this drained her. She attempted to lean in, rest herself on her shoulder to regain strength but he held her upright, supporting her in this regard but denying her the comfort of further contact. This resistance further confused her. “How can you tell me that you don’t love me?”
He stopped their dancing. Gently, he cupped her chin in his hand and directed her gaze upward to meet his own. “This is what you feel?” he inquired. She smiled a watery smile at him. Further words failing her, she nodded, shaking loose trapped tears. His voice was still calm but had an added gentleness when he spoke again. “If that is the case, then I am afraid I must tender my resignation from your employ.”
He released her chin which allowed it to droop in shock. A thought occurred through her haze of confusion. “Are you quitting because you couldn’t date an employer?”
“While I do indeed feel that way, it is not my motivation in leaving your service.” He stepped back so that he could bow slightly to her. “Goodbye.” With that completed, he walked away.
Janie watched as he strode away, her heart begging him to stop and walk back to her. He did not. As he disappeared into the crowd, she lost sight of him. She tried to call after him but her voice betrayed her, emitting as a whisper rather than a shout. “No, please, don’t go.” There was no way from him to hear her over the music and his lack of return seemed to prove that he had not heard her emotion filled whisper. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you have no feelings at all.”
26 June 2007
Disillusionment
Well, what a difference a few hours makes.
The early coroner's reports are pointing to Benoit killing his wife and son before hanging himself.
I should have better words for this. All I have is shock and disappointment. There may be a 'reason' for this but I cannot see one that makes sense of this.
I won't take down last night's post as it was written in good faith, before the details were known, and is a snapshot of my feelings at that moment.
Right now I'm just mad that I wasted tears on him.
Later.
The early coroner's reports are pointing to Benoit killing his wife and son before hanging himself.
I should have better words for this. All I have is shock and disappointment. There may be a 'reason' for this but I cannot see one that makes sense of this.
I won't take down last night's post as it was written in good faith, before the details were known, and is a snapshot of my feelings at that moment.
Right now I'm just mad that I wasted tears on him.
Later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)