The play is now cast. There were some surprises, mostly because the three women I ended up with aren't often put in leading roles (at least that I have seen). So this will be a great opportunity to let them shine in a very small cast in a pretty momentous point in the organization's history.
Caleb & I did our dog-and-pony show for the Twelfth Night board of directors and were happy to hear a lot of encouragement and support for the play. We also scored the dining room furniture we need from an estate sale for $100.
I'm bringing on Alyssa as my stage manager. She worked with Sam previously, and was set to be my assistant director on Duo, so I know I can work with her and trust stuff will get done right. I trained Caleb in stage blocking shorthand today so he can keep track of it when we get into rehearsal.
Went to Gilda's tonight, but didn't get to say much. What I was going to talk about was this feeling of emotional isolation I have been nurturing for the last few months. Like I'm getting too comfortable with the whole not-dating-thing. I dunno. There's just no time for it right now, and I know that "miz kerbam" will (eventually) cross my path when I least expect it. Just like Sam did. But does that mean I'm getting lazy about it? Or does it even matter?
If you're wondering who "miz kerbam" is, just understand it's an inside reference shared by Samantha's mom and myself. The reference being that one day, the woman I'm supposed to find will just show up - kerbam! I threw in the "miz". It's either very cute, or very late at night. Prolly the latter.
The kids are in the last week of their Pacific Science Center day camps. Then we get a week to prep for school. Then, come 9/6, they will return to the hallowed halls of learning.
Auditions for Ordinary Angels are coming up as well. Please fasten your safety belts.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Casting Lures
Well, tonight's show was by far the best yet. The house was packed and the audience was on. The cast was awesome and did the smoothest performance so far. There was one missed entrance, but the scene went on just fine. Another standing ovation for our little group.
I've shot all shows thus far. Tonight I had a live audio feed from the sound board. Tomorrow I will shoot the final show with the second cast and will have all I need to assemble not one but two DVDs (1 for each cast). I know why Mary double-cast this show, but I think she won't be doing it again - really more hassle than it's worth.
After tomorrow's show, Kayleigh and I will make an appearance at the cast party. Ordinarily this is where we award the Spammies. Because the group started out performing Monty Python sketches, the awards consist of various cans of meat product, plus an elf shoe, a boot once worn by a stripper at the Lusty Lady, and the Samantha Downing Memorial Grand SPAM Award. This is the only actual trophy, which is awarded to the individual Mary feels best contributed to the overall production effort. It bears the names of all who have won it. Sam was the first to win, and I won for Bye Bye Birdie (when it actually became a trophy). Last year, it was my pleasure to award it to another member of our troupe (MJ), and this year it went to our lighting designer.
Saturday begins the casting process for The Dining Room. Then Sunday I have a few more to read for the play. Then it's Monday. Wheeee.
* * *
The cabinets and trim-out are happening at the house. It's miraculous how cool this is turning out to be. As soon as I locate my camera's USB cable, I will put up some pics.
For some reason, I have been thinking a lot about The Sundays. It starts by watching Muriel perform, which makes me think of the awesome music we're putting together for the tribute CD, which makes me think of when Samantha and I were recording, and we'd be compared to The Sundays. Not that I think we sounded like them - I don't think we did. But there are some similarities in song structure. Anyway, we liked The Sundays. Had all three albums. Saw them live at the Moore shortly after we moved up to Seattle and I won tickets from the local college radio station. And when Sam was in labor with Tyler, she had a mix tape for the hospital called Welcome to the World. On it was The Sundays' cover of "Wild Horses" by the Rolling Stones (the cover, IMHO, puts the original to shame). I'll see if I can dig it up on YouTube and post it here... it's kinda where my head is at.
I've shot all shows thus far. Tonight I had a live audio feed from the sound board. Tomorrow I will shoot the final show with the second cast and will have all I need to assemble not one but two DVDs (1 for each cast). I know why Mary double-cast this show, but I think she won't be doing it again - really more hassle than it's worth.
After tomorrow's show, Kayleigh and I will make an appearance at the cast party. Ordinarily this is where we award the Spammies. Because the group started out performing Monty Python sketches, the awards consist of various cans of meat product, plus an elf shoe, a boot once worn by a stripper at the Lusty Lady, and the Samantha Downing Memorial Grand SPAM Award. This is the only actual trophy, which is awarded to the individual Mary feels best contributed to the overall production effort. It bears the names of all who have won it. Sam was the first to win, and I won for Bye Bye Birdie (when it actually became a trophy). Last year, it was my pleasure to award it to another member of our troupe (MJ), and this year it went to our lighting designer.
Saturday begins the casting process for The Dining Room. Then Sunday I have a few more to read for the play. Then it's Monday. Wheeee.
* * *
The cabinets and trim-out are happening at the house. It's miraculous how cool this is turning out to be. As soon as I locate my camera's USB cable, I will put up some pics.
For some reason, I have been thinking a lot about The Sundays. It starts by watching Muriel perform, which makes me think of the awesome music we're putting together for the tribute CD, which makes me think of when Samantha and I were recording, and we'd be compared to The Sundays. Not that I think we sounded like them - I don't think we did. But there are some similarities in song structure. Anyway, we liked The Sundays. Had all three albums. Saw them live at the Moore shortly after we moved up to Seattle and I won tickets from the local college radio station. And when Sam was in labor with Tyler, she had a mix tape for the hospital called Welcome to the World. On it was The Sundays' cover of "Wild Horses" by the Rolling Stones (the cover, IMHO, puts the original to shame). I'll see if I can dig it up on YouTube and post it here... it's kinda where my head is at.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Toad The Wet Sprocket
Tonight my past caught up with me, and I sat through what was simultaneously the most beautiful and intensely painful concert I've seen since that Marillion show back in '85.I'd never seen Toad live before. When they were touring back in the day, Samantha and I were raising kids and working hard. It's really a shame we never saw them, seeing as how they were one of our shared favorite bands of the era. Within six months of showing up in Seattle, Pearl Jam Ten and Toad the Wet Sprocket Fear were on a cassette in our car that tended to stay in the deck and play over and over and over. To this day, I consider Fear their magnum opus, and one of my all time desert island discs. "Walk on the Ocean", "Nightingale Song", "Hold Her Down", "Pray Your Gods", "All I Want" and "I Will Not Take These Things For Granted", all from a single record. Rarely is the alternative music scene treated to such a feast of songwriting and technical prowess.
The concert was held at the Moore theatre in Seattle. We found parking for five bucks. The opener, Matt Nathanson, was one of those really good coffee-house-singer-songwriters-who-play-a-twelve-string-with-a-capo-on-the-third-fret-and-sing-about-relationships-and-sex trying to go from coffee house to a band tour. He was good - very good. He was really funny between songs, and his lyrical content reflected that sense of humor.
With six albums to choose from and almost two decades together, I was surprised that most of the set list consisted of stuff from Dulcinea and Coil. But when they hit any of the Fear material, starting with "All I Want", I found myself weeping. Most of the show was one rockin' single after another, and yet the memories the songs stirred were so powerful I could not help myself. "Nightingale Song" found me singing through a veil of tears and when the first encore consisted of "Walk on the Ocean" and "Fall Down", I thought I could maybe pull myself together.
Then they got called back by a passionate Seattle crowd for a second encore, which consisted of only one song, "I Will Not Take These Things For Granted" the final track on Fear and a real tear-jerker for me (for a host of reasons). I managed to dry my face by the time the lights came up.
Although I'd fronted for 8 seats in the mezzanine, somewhere along the line I found myself 2 tickets short. That and one friend who had actually bought one of the tickets ended up not showing. So we had my brother & his wife, my actress friend, and my LMP friend. I guess we ended up with those two extra seats for Sam and my dad. I know they would have enjoyed it. Several times I could almost feel Sam sitting right behind or "around" me, singing along to the music.
Aside from the drunken idiot who thought it would be cool to wear his Microsoft uniform (yellow polo shirt tucked into his beige shorts with his cell holster and a pair of LL Bean sandals, shades hanging from the undone neck of his shirt), sneak his cocktail into the theatre and stand up to do air guitar solos, attempt to incite some bizarre form of cheering by waving the Nixon victory fingers and/or generally make an ass of himself, the evening went without major incident. I dropped my car load of people off in West Seattle and came home to process the emotional flood.
Crazy what some music can do.
I thought I'd posted the lyrics from "I Will Not Take These Things For Granted" previously, but it looks like not... so here.
One part of me just wants to tell you everything
One part just needs the quiet
And if I'm lonely here, I'm lonely here
And on the telephone
You offer reassurance
I will not take these things for granted
How can I hold the part of me that only you can carry
It needs a strength I haven't found
But if it's frightening, I'll bear the cold
And on the telephone
You offer warm asylum
I'm listening
Flowers in the garden
Laughter in the hall
Children in the park
I will not take these things for granted
Anymore
To crawl inside the wire and feel something near me
To feel this accepting
That it is lonely here, but not alone
And on the telephone
You offer visions dancing
I'm listening
Music in the bedroom
Laughter in the hall
Dive into the ocean
Singing by the fire
Running through the forest
And standing in the wind
In rolling canyons
I will not take these things for granted
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Mattress Opens
The past week has been a blur of activity, mostly show-related. Got the program finished and off to the printer (they look good), got Kayleigh to and from dress rehearsals, and monitored the sanding, priming and texturing of the walls in my house (the painters have done all the ceilings and are now putting color on the walls). I also arranged for a security system to be installed in the house. We're getting ever closer. All the millwork arrived and the trim will start going up next week.Anyway, the show opened last night and was a rousing success. Despite a couple technical and dramatic gaffes onstage, the cast recovered and put on a great show. All things audio (voices, stage mics, orchestra) are the best they've been in years. The costumes are terrific. I think Fiddler had more interesting lighting, but this is a wholly different show.
I designed the Jesters' makeup. Since the part of the jester is being split among four actors, I decided to give them each a clown-white mask and paint a playing card suit on the left eye, the result being one of each suit represented onstage. It was down to the wire with the Jester makeup, and then I had to run up to the top of the house and run the video camera. Fortunately Caleb showed up to help set up, but it was a long, stressful night for my legs.Like I said, the show was good and got a standing ovation. We have 2 shows today, a matinee tomorrow, and then four days off until Thursday's show - and plenty to do during that time.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Quick Check-In
Had a great day hanging out with my kids yesterday. We had lunch at Red Robin, then walked around at Southcenter, used our Borders gift cards (I really hate Borders, but hey - they were gift cards). Kayleigh found some Nancy Drew mysteries. Tyler was feeling a bit woozy after overstuffing himself at RR (the good news is, he's eating), but we found him some Calvin & Hobbes anthologies. I made a very personal score: my very favorite pirate movie ever, The Black Swan (starring Tyrone Power & Maureen O'Hara) on DVD. Best cinematography 1942, btw. My old VHS copy perished in the fire, and all the online stuff I read had the film coming on DVD next year. Maybe it is next year and I just spaced it. Anyway, I now have my favorite pirate movie on DVD, and it sits on a bookshelf alongside Catpain Blood, The Sea Hawk, and The Crimson Pirate (which is really a Burt Lancaster goofy adventure comedy, but it's good fun).
We sort of fudged dinner, what with each of us "great with child" from lunch. Had our first family meeting post-Sam. It went very well, and the kids are feeling empowered (man, I hate that word) to communicate and negotiate openly. Both kids were all hugs and cuddles. It was one of our few "days off".
Awoke to a phone call from a neighbor. Apparently, she'd been walking down 24th early this morning when Wiley started walking aloing with her. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how he got out of the house, but he'd evidently found a way. It was only after I went outside and found the side window screen in the driveway that I knew we'd have to close those windows at night from now on. He sees a squirrel or racoon and he's off like a half-shepherd/half-African hunting dog. Go figure.
The very nice neighbor lady brought him back and he's on double-secret probation for the rest of the day.
I'm headed off for my Sunday morning coffee with Obi Ron. Kayleigh's first rehearsal on the actual set is tonight. Can't wait to see what they've done with the space.
We sort of fudged dinner, what with each of us "great with child" from lunch. Had our first family meeting post-Sam. It went very well, and the kids are feeling empowered (man, I hate that word) to communicate and negotiate openly. Both kids were all hugs and cuddles. It was one of our few "days off".
Awoke to a phone call from a neighbor. Apparently, she'd been walking down 24th early this morning when Wiley started walking aloing with her. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how he got out of the house, but he'd evidently found a way. It was only after I went outside and found the side window screen in the driveway that I knew we'd have to close those windows at night from now on. He sees a squirrel or racoon and he's off like a half-shepherd/half-African hunting dog. Go figure.
The very nice neighbor lady brought him back and he's on double-secret probation for the rest of the day.
I'm headed off for my Sunday morning coffee with Obi Ron. Kayleigh's first rehearsal on the actual set is tonight. Can't wait to see what they've done with the space.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Rebels and Hard Drives and Children, Oh My!
The data recovery service now has custody of my twin 500GB hard drives and will try to grab what they can of my work materials. Dell promptly sent out a replacement for the defective drive, but that doesn't really help me right now, as I have to wait for the good drive to come back from data recovery with the bad drive. The hazard of a RAID 0 stripe array is that, while it's fast, if one of the drives should become corrupted or damaged, the data is split between both drives. When I get them back, I will configure the system for RAID 1 mirrored, which will create a second backup copy of my data automatically. Should one drive fail, I will still have the data on the second drive as a failsafe.
The tape & mud has started on the house.
Tyler is being really excellent. Today he woke up and offered to cook everyone breakfast. He made scrambled eggs, which were quite tasty! Kayleigh is having some nighttime issues. Now that Tyler is sleeping on the sofa in the living room, she's feeling a bit lonely. We're working on it. For pizza/movie night tonight, we watched Men in Black 2, and a couple episodes of "Futurama". Kayleigh spent some quiet time doing problems in a math workbook she keeps in her bedside drawer. I just tucked her in, and Wiley is asleep by her bed.
I finished reading Rebel Without a Crew, Robert Rodriguez' book. You know, the guy who made the Mexico trilogy (El Mariachi, Desperado, Once Upon a Time in Mexico), the Spy Kids movies, and most recently Sin City. It's pretty much his production journal of making El Mariachi and the craziness that followed. This dude became a human guinea pig for a pharma lab in Texas to raise money for shooting a feature he hoped to sell to Mexican home video. With a borrowed 16mm camera and $7,000 he went to a little town in northern Mexico and shot a really inventive and compelling action film. When he took it to LA to sell to the Mexican video distributors, he ended up with an agent, and then a bidding war erupted, landing him at Columbia. It's inspiring stuff, especially given Rodriguez and I are the same age.
The book made me think back to what I was doing in 1991. Newly married, Samantha and I had made the decision to move north to Seattle. I was writing 14 hours a day. Short stories, novels (I finished three), screenplays... always feeling the urge to get back behind a camera. It had been 3 years since we'd shot Sam's directorial project for her San Francisco State film course. She'd been shifting back toward stage, and I'd gone to DeAnza College in Cupertino to take advantage of some of their film production curriculum. Made several shorts. I was also at Mission College in Santa Clara doing a 2-year animation stint. Made several shorts there too. But in '91, we heeded the call of the north and ended up in an apartment in Renton and then a shared 1913 craftsman above a nail salon on the main drag in West Seattle.
I think Rodriguez and I had very similar backgrounds, creatively speaking. Where we diverged was while he was actively pursuing a very clear goal, I was trying to do too much. I had intellectual properties bursting out of my skull, and I wrote like mad to try to get everything down on paper. Affordable pro-level video was still a few years off; I kept the rust away by writing and directing a sci-fi comedy pilot for TCI cable in '94, using late '70s era 3/4" U-Matic gear. Then I got sidetracked by the videogame industry and made good bank while my soul was prison-raped for the better part of a decade. Kinda took a detour to have a career (I was still doing art, even if it was pushing pixels for the Man), raise a family (not one second of which I regret), that kind of thing. At least publishing RPGs was something creative Sam & I could do together, but that industry has its own set of crosses to bear.
I went back to the drawing board - literally. In 2000 and 2001, I brought back my old comic strip, Zingo, as a weekly 6-panel full color webcomic. It ran on the late, great Big Bad Hammer site. That was fun, but ultimately unsatisfying. I needed to be doing something else entirely.
Before Samantha died, she really tried to push me back to doing film. That was always my first love - creating something visually alive and engaging and entertaining. I had a bunch of stories in my back catalogue, many already in screenplay format. We chose DUO, a romantic comedy based loosely on two of my close buddies from the comic book industry. It was a feature, but we'd done 2 features before (1 of them was actually finished and broadcast on TV), so I knew we could handle it. I got two producers who were each great in a different area. Samantha used her casting prowess and cast the film with a talented group of Seattle actors. We went into rehearsals. We got set to shoot. The weekend of our first scheduled shoot - Samantha crashed. She'd be dead a couple weeks later. There's no way I can make DUO on a shoestring. Not now. Not without Sam. When I make it, it will be with a proper budget and everything in place. And hopefully I can call up Sam's cast and get the majority of them to do it.
So now I feel like I'm getting all these clues and bits of inspiration. The Angels script just kind of wrote itself, I happened to fall in with a group of Seattle indie film people whose work I respect, and the story is attracting a bunch of professionals who want to work on it. It's also under 30mins, so it's not quite the headache of a feature. It seemed like before, I would constantly be leaping over the hurdles strewn in our way. Now, it seems like everything is falling into place on its own. Maybe it's just my change in perception since Sam's death. Maybe I'm going about things differently now. Maybe I'm just older and wiser. Or maybe it's just time to do what I was put here to do.
I'd love to meet Robert Rodriguez someday. I've already met Ray Harryhausen and worked for Richard Edlund. Why not a film icon my own age, who does things the way I do?
The tape & mud has started on the house.
Tyler is being really excellent. Today he woke up and offered to cook everyone breakfast. He made scrambled eggs, which were quite tasty! Kayleigh is having some nighttime issues. Now that Tyler is sleeping on the sofa in the living room, she's feeling a bit lonely. We're working on it. For pizza/movie night tonight, we watched Men in Black 2, and a couple episodes of "Futurama". Kayleigh spent some quiet time doing problems in a math workbook she keeps in her bedside drawer. I just tucked her in, and Wiley is asleep by her bed.
I finished reading Rebel Without a Crew, Robert Rodriguez' book. You know, the guy who made the Mexico trilogy (El Mariachi, Desperado, Once Upon a Time in Mexico), the Spy Kids movies, and most recently Sin City. It's pretty much his production journal of making El Mariachi and the craziness that followed. This dude became a human guinea pig for a pharma lab in Texas to raise money for shooting a feature he hoped to sell to Mexican home video. With a borrowed 16mm camera and $7,000 he went to a little town in northern Mexico and shot a really inventive and compelling action film. When he took it to LA to sell to the Mexican video distributors, he ended up with an agent, and then a bidding war erupted, landing him at Columbia. It's inspiring stuff, especially given Rodriguez and I are the same age.
The book made me think back to what I was doing in 1991. Newly married, Samantha and I had made the decision to move north to Seattle. I was writing 14 hours a day. Short stories, novels (I finished three), screenplays... always feeling the urge to get back behind a camera. It had been 3 years since we'd shot Sam's directorial project for her San Francisco State film course. She'd been shifting back toward stage, and I'd gone to DeAnza College in Cupertino to take advantage of some of their film production curriculum. Made several shorts. I was also at Mission College in Santa Clara doing a 2-year animation stint. Made several shorts there too. But in '91, we heeded the call of the north and ended up in an apartment in Renton and then a shared 1913 craftsman above a nail salon on the main drag in West Seattle.
I think Rodriguez and I had very similar backgrounds, creatively speaking. Where we diverged was while he was actively pursuing a very clear goal, I was trying to do too much. I had intellectual properties bursting out of my skull, and I wrote like mad to try to get everything down on paper. Affordable pro-level video was still a few years off; I kept the rust away by writing and directing a sci-fi comedy pilot for TCI cable in '94, using late '70s era 3/4" U-Matic gear. Then I got sidetracked by the videogame industry and made good bank while my soul was prison-raped for the better part of a decade. Kinda took a detour to have a career (I was still doing art, even if it was pushing pixels for the Man), raise a family (not one second of which I regret), that kind of thing. At least publishing RPGs was something creative Sam & I could do together, but that industry has its own set of crosses to bear.
I went back to the drawing board - literally. In 2000 and 2001, I brought back my old comic strip, Zingo, as a weekly 6-panel full color webcomic. It ran on the late, great Big Bad Hammer site. That was fun, but ultimately unsatisfying. I needed to be doing something else entirely.
Before Samantha died, she really tried to push me back to doing film. That was always my first love - creating something visually alive and engaging and entertaining. I had a bunch of stories in my back catalogue, many already in screenplay format. We chose DUO, a romantic comedy based loosely on two of my close buddies from the comic book industry. It was a feature, but we'd done 2 features before (1 of them was actually finished and broadcast on TV), so I knew we could handle it. I got two producers who were each great in a different area. Samantha used her casting prowess and cast the film with a talented group of Seattle actors. We went into rehearsals. We got set to shoot. The weekend of our first scheduled shoot - Samantha crashed. She'd be dead a couple weeks later. There's no way I can make DUO on a shoestring. Not now. Not without Sam. When I make it, it will be with a proper budget and everything in place. And hopefully I can call up Sam's cast and get the majority of them to do it.
So now I feel like I'm getting all these clues and bits of inspiration. The Angels script just kind of wrote itself, I happened to fall in with a group of Seattle indie film people whose work I respect, and the story is attracting a bunch of professionals who want to work on it. It's also under 30mins, so it's not quite the headache of a feature. It seemed like before, I would constantly be leaping over the hurdles strewn in our way. Now, it seems like everything is falling into place on its own. Maybe it's just my change in perception since Sam's death. Maybe I'm going about things differently now. Maybe I'm just older and wiser. Or maybe it's just time to do what I was put here to do.
I'd love to meet Robert Rodriguez someday. I've already met Ray Harryhausen and worked for Richard Edlund. Why not a film icon my own age, who does things the way I do?
Monday, July 31, 2006
Out of the Frying Pan...
Specifically, out of the frying pan that was San Jose over the last week, and back home to our moist, green region of the globe. We even had rain over the weekend - huzzah! Now the sun is shining, temps are back down in the 70s and 80s, there's a cool offshore breeze, and there are are guys hanging drywall in my house!
I returned to face a bazillion demands, from the pleasant (Ordinary Angels production meeting) to the less so (sending my new hard drive to a data recovery company in CA). Just trying to get caught up with paying bills, keeping the kids fed and getting my house and financial records sorted out.
I snagged Monkey Forge as the name of my film production co. While somewhat silly at first, there are good reasons behind it:
We had a great weekend hosting my friend JS and his wife who are seeking refuge from the blast furnace of Phoenix AZ. I think they liked our trees. And water. And blue sky. And rain. And food. And culture. Plus, the UW has a good cardio center, so he will be close to a facility that can handle his issues. I look forward to seeing them again (in less than 20 years this time)!
Now to get my hard drives ghosted so I can reinstall everything on my work computer and get back to WORK. Because laying out a playbill on my email laptop is like a trip to the DMV... it takes forever and is annoying as hell.
Stay tuned.
I returned to face a bazillion demands, from the pleasant (Ordinary Angels production meeting) to the less so (sending my new hard drive to a data recovery company in CA). Just trying to get caught up with paying bills, keeping the kids fed and getting my house and financial records sorted out.
I snagged Monkey Forge as the name of my film production co. While somewhat silly at first, there are good reasons behind it:
- We are all monkeys.
- The reference to a certain number of monkeys with a certain number of typewriters will eventually give you the collected works of William Shakespeare... or something.
- I was born in 1968, Year of the Monkey in the Chinese zodiac.
- In Chinese astrology, monkey people are clever, skillful, flexible, remarkably inventive and original.
- The forge is the source of creation for that which is functional as well as that which is beautiful.
We had a great weekend hosting my friend JS and his wife who are seeking refuge from the blast furnace of Phoenix AZ. I think they liked our trees. And water. And blue sky. And rain. And food. And culture. Plus, the UW has a good cardio center, so he will be close to a facility that can handle his issues. I look forward to seeing them again (in less than 20 years this time)!
Now to get my hard drives ghosted so I can reinstall everything on my work computer and get back to WORK. Because laying out a playbill on my email laptop is like a trip to the DMV... it takes forever and is annoying as hell.
Stay tuned.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Surreal Reunions R Us
I know it's been almost a week - but holy crap.
Where were we?
Friday, 7/21: Got on the flight to San Jose. I was the only one the security guy made take his shoes off. I just think he wanted to see my dead-sexy athletic socks. The flight was uneventful, just the way I like air travel. San Jose airport is still a slum, which is interesting given the gentrification happening all over the Bay Area. When my stepmom bought her little house in Palo Alto back in the '70s, it was a sleepy little college 'burb, not so very affluent. That happened with the rise of Silicon Valley tech culture (and money). Now it's just freaky.
The Varsity theater on University Ave is now a (gulp) Borders. I saw Stop Making Sense there, once upon a time. People danced in the aisles. I saw Das Boot there in its first run (as well as a host of foreign and art house movies over the years). While working on the play Veronica's Room with Sam, I went down to the theater on a break and watched Mark Isham rehearse for a concert. My friend Gordon saw Lords of the New Church play live there. They had a full bar where Cure videos would play and a back alley that was solid graffiti - so much so that it was a landmark; bands would have publicity pics taken back there; Mark, Rob & I shot part of a college film back there. It's very sad, but I must say, unsurprising.
Anyway, veering back on topic, Friday consisted of getting settled with rental cars and motel rooms and whatnot, but I did squeeze in dinner with my buddy Konrad, actor & filmmaker.
Saturday, 7/22: Spent the day with Sam's folks. We drove up to San Francisco and went to the Exploratorium. I still remember when the place opened - I was in Jr. High and it was the coolest place evar. Of course now we're spoiled because we have the Pacific Science Center in Seattle, which is like the Exploratorium only cleaner and with air conditioning. Actually, the Exploratorium has a few more hands-on displays, and a new nanotechnology exhibit that they are getting the guests to build for them. Tyler worked on it for quite some time, and Kayleigh gave it some elbow grease (which we all had plenty of, what with the 90+ degree heat in the old warehouse structure). Even (or perhaps especially) Sam's dad got into it.
Had an early dinner and dropped the kids with the grands for a couple hours while I went to meet with drummer and happy polar bear twin, Steven Fox. Steve will be playing drums on several tracks for the tribute CD. We had a good time catching up.
Sunday, 7/23: Did I mention the Bay Area is having the same heat wave everyone in the country is having? We got some food and headed out to Mitchell Park in Palo Alto for the reunion picnic, the temps already pushing 90 at 10:AM. Crazy heat. Stupid heat. Ended up being 106 that day. Randy reported a high of 115 or thereabouts at his home in Rocklin.
Aaaaanyway, I got to see some friends I hadn't seen in 10 years (since the 10-year reunion), and it was interesting. The guys who were jocks back then mostly hung around the BBQ grill together talking about business acquisitions and whose wife had been caught sleeping with someone else, while the former arts people congregated in the shade of a tree and chilled out (as much as one can "chill" when the temp is climbing toward 100).
I was happy to see several of my old homies. Within minutes we were making with the yak yak like no time had passed. Some of them have kids of their own. Two are filmmakers (New York & Los Angeles), one is a dancer, two are chefs, some own their own businesses, one is a genetic scientist, and others are in software & hardware (of the computer variety). Our friends Paul & Marte showed up, despite the fact that Paul was in Sam's class ('85) and Marte was a year behind me ('87), they average out to '86, and we didn't hang out with our our own class exclusively anyway. Mark Allen & I agreed that we would have ruled YouTube if it had been around back in the day, with all of our backyard video shenannigans (I love that word). Surprisingly, only one person hadn't heard about Sam, so that was easy to handle. (Photo, L-R: Konrad, some dork, Mark, Ray)
After the picnic, some of us congregated back at my motel for a dip in the pool, followed by a nice Mexican dinner (and some muy bueno sangria). Turns out, Paul & Marte are on our return flight to Seattle. This is the second time such a random travel thingy has occurred. In 1999, Sam & I went on an Alaska cruise with her folks. We were on Holland-America, and a Celebrity ship was always right ahead of us or right behind us in every port of call. Turns out, Paul & Marte were on the Celebrity ship. We'd been in the same ports at the same time and had never known.
Monday, 7/24: Randy met us at the motel and we carpooled "over the hill" to Santa Cruz. I was a little rusty on highway 17. It twists and turns through the Santa Cruz mountains, and I used to navigate that sucker on autopilot. But the old knowledge soon returned and I shook off the rust. We congregated at the harbor where my dad had taken his intermediate sailing lessons. It's really cleaned up down there. As a kid, I used to play around the dumpster, which was usually full of porn.
We boarded the Chardonnay II, a beautiful 70' Santa Cruz design. The captain and his two crew were wonderful. We were under sail the moment we were past the breakers. The day could not have been more perfect - not too hot, not too cold, a steady breeze. We couldn't go out as far as we'd wanted to, simply because there was enough chop to make a burial at sea somewhat problematic. Some of my dad & stepmom's closest friends were there - all family, really. They threw flowers until the sea was a colorful carpet. Katherine released the ashes of Admiral Nelson, my dad's Amazon parrot. Then more flowers, then my dad. I was videotaping the whole thing, and was so intent on getting the shot that it wasn't until I was following the light gray splotch on the water's surface that I realized I wasn't "in the moment". So I put the camera down and filled my sunglasses as I watched the remains of my father drift away to be claimed by the sea. "Fair winds, Captain," I heard Randy say. "Following Seas," I added.
We gathered for lunch at the Crow's Nest, a great restaurant there at the harbor. Then Sara, Gavin & Michelle took the kids to the Boardwalk while Randy & I met up with another old Santa Cruz friend, Randy Rhodes (aka Dick Hollywood). Film connoisseur, critic, production guy and all around hack (in the best way possible), RR was a year ahead of me at Aptos High, and was in some film classes with Sam at SF State. We met at the top of Pacific Garden Mall and wandered down to The Catalyst for a couple beers. There is a certain vibe creeping back into Santa Cruz - it feels a bit more like its old self again. There was a homogenization after the big quake in '89, and it hadn't retained that old Santa Cruz bohemian weirdness. Some of that is back.
And The Catalyst hasn't changed at all.
Tuesday, 7/25: Still hot. The whole family met at Hobee's in Sunnyvale, where we had a trustee meeting and ate the famous blueberry coffee cake. Sara, Gavin & Michelle took Kayleigh and went to Great America, while Tyler & I headed into Palo Alto. I helped Katherine get to some stuff in the storeroom (which is basically the finished room in the garage of her rental home, the room that was once my dad's office, and my room when we kids moved in with them in 1984).
Then Tyler & I went up to University Avenue to meet with my buddy Mark, Pixar veteran, husband, father of twin 5yo boys. Mark and I went to school at Aptos, then lost touch when he moved to Athens, GA and I moved to Palo Alto. We reconnected in 1989 when Dave Beach and I were taking film courses at De Anza College and Mark just happened to be in one. The last time I'd seen Mark, the twins were less than a year old and Sam got to hold them. I'm happy that Mark & I have the kind of friendship that is always good - it's not a high-maintenance thing. There is always love and respect, regardless of time and distance.
Came back to the motel and let Tyler have a swim, then I collapsed and got a short nap between phone calls. Sara and the girls finally made it back about 6:PM, and she took off to hang out with her friends. My old friend Mike (whom I've known since 3rd grade) came out and we took the girls out for Chinese food while Tyler hung out in the motel room. After some digestion and whatnot, the kids got a swim and Mike & I got to chat. I'd seen Mike last year when he took his motorcycle road trip to Seattle, but it was still good to get caught up. Good things are happening to the two of us, and I hope it continues.
After a day at Great America, an hour in the pool and a belly full of Chinese food, the kids crashed out and are still not awake at the time of this posting.
Today we plan to have lunch with my uncle, and hopefully will get to see Dave Beach again before we leave.
This has been a wonderful trip, made so by the friends and family with whom we've interacted. But once again, it reassures me I live in the right city, that this area is not my home. I can't wait to get home and see Wiley and James Brown, see what progress has been made on the house, get set for Ordinary Angels casting... it's coming up on Crazy Time this fall.
Hang on tight.
Where were we?
Friday, 7/21: Got on the flight to San Jose. I was the only one the security guy made take his shoes off. I just think he wanted to see my dead-sexy athletic socks. The flight was uneventful, just the way I like air travel. San Jose airport is still a slum, which is interesting given the gentrification happening all over the Bay Area. When my stepmom bought her little house in Palo Alto back in the '70s, it was a sleepy little college 'burb, not so very affluent. That happened with the rise of Silicon Valley tech culture (and money). Now it's just freaky.
The Varsity theater on University Ave is now a (gulp) Borders. I saw Stop Making Sense there, once upon a time. People danced in the aisles. I saw Das Boot there in its first run (as well as a host of foreign and art house movies over the years). While working on the play Veronica's Room with Sam, I went down to the theater on a break and watched Mark Isham rehearse for a concert. My friend Gordon saw Lords of the New Church play live there. They had a full bar where Cure videos would play and a back alley that was solid graffiti - so much so that it was a landmark; bands would have publicity pics taken back there; Mark, Rob & I shot part of a college film back there. It's very sad, but I must say, unsurprising.
Anyway, veering back on topic, Friday consisted of getting settled with rental cars and motel rooms and whatnot, but I did squeeze in dinner with my buddy Konrad, actor & filmmaker.
Saturday, 7/22: Spent the day with Sam's folks. We drove up to San Francisco and went to the Exploratorium. I still remember when the place opened - I was in Jr. High and it was the coolest place evar. Of course now we're spoiled because we have the Pacific Science Center in Seattle, which is like the Exploratorium only cleaner and with air conditioning. Actually, the Exploratorium has a few more hands-on displays, and a new nanotechnology exhibit that they are getting the guests to build for them. Tyler worked on it for quite some time, and Kayleigh gave it some elbow grease (which we all had plenty of, what with the 90+ degree heat in the old warehouse structure). Even (or perhaps especially) Sam's dad got into it.
Had an early dinner and dropped the kids with the grands for a couple hours while I went to meet with drummer and happy polar bear twin, Steven Fox. Steve will be playing drums on several tracks for the tribute CD. We had a good time catching up.
Sunday, 7/23: Did I mention the Bay Area is having the same heat wave everyone in the country is having? We got some food and headed out to Mitchell Park in Palo Alto for the reunion picnic, the temps already pushing 90 at 10:AM. Crazy heat. Stupid heat. Ended up being 106 that day. Randy reported a high of 115 or thereabouts at his home in Rocklin.
Aaaaanyway, I got to see some friends I hadn't seen in 10 years (since the 10-year reunion), and it was interesting. The guys who were jocks back then mostly hung around the BBQ grill together talking about business acquisitions and whose wife had been caught sleeping with someone else, while the former arts people congregated in the shade of a tree and chilled out (as much as one can "chill" when the temp is climbing toward 100).
I was happy to see several of my old homies. Within minutes we were making with the yak yak like no time had passed. Some of them have kids of their own. Two are filmmakers (New York & Los Angeles), one is a dancer, two are chefs, some own their own businesses, one is a genetic scientist, and others are in software & hardware (of the computer variety). Our friends Paul & Marte showed up, despite the fact that Paul was in Sam's class ('85) and Marte was a year behind me ('87), they average out to '86, and we didn't hang out with our our own class exclusively anyway. Mark Allen & I agreed that we would have ruled YouTube if it had been around back in the day, with all of our backyard video shenannigans (I love that word). Surprisingly, only one person hadn't heard about Sam, so that was easy to handle. (Photo, L-R: Konrad, some dork, Mark, Ray)After the picnic, some of us congregated back at my motel for a dip in the pool, followed by a nice Mexican dinner (and some muy bueno sangria). Turns out, Paul & Marte are on our return flight to Seattle. This is the second time such a random travel thingy has occurred. In 1999, Sam & I went on an Alaska cruise with her folks. We were on Holland-America, and a Celebrity ship was always right ahead of us or right behind us in every port of call. Turns out, Paul & Marte were on the Celebrity ship. We'd been in the same ports at the same time and had never known.
Monday, 7/24: Randy met us at the motel and we carpooled "over the hill" to Santa Cruz. I was a little rusty on highway 17. It twists and turns through the Santa Cruz mountains, and I used to navigate that sucker on autopilot. But the old knowledge soon returned and I shook off the rust. We congregated at the harbor where my dad had taken his intermediate sailing lessons. It's really cleaned up down there. As a kid, I used to play around the dumpster, which was usually full of porn.
We boarded the Chardonnay II, a beautiful 70' Santa Cruz design. The captain and his two crew were wonderful. We were under sail the moment we were past the breakers. The day could not have been more perfect - not too hot, not too cold, a steady breeze. We couldn't go out as far as we'd wanted to, simply because there was enough chop to make a burial at sea somewhat problematic. Some of my dad & stepmom's closest friends were there - all family, really. They threw flowers until the sea was a colorful carpet. Katherine released the ashes of Admiral Nelson, my dad's Amazon parrot. Then more flowers, then my dad. I was videotaping the whole thing, and was so intent on getting the shot that it wasn't until I was following the light gray splotch on the water's surface that I realized I wasn't "in the moment". So I put the camera down and filled my sunglasses as I watched the remains of my father drift away to be claimed by the sea. "Fair winds, Captain," I heard Randy say. "Following Seas," I added.
We gathered for lunch at the Crow's Nest, a great restaurant there at the harbor. Then Sara, Gavin & Michelle took the kids to the Boardwalk while Randy & I met up with another old Santa Cruz friend, Randy Rhodes (aka Dick Hollywood). Film connoisseur, critic, production guy and all around hack (in the best way possible), RR was a year ahead of me at Aptos High, and was in some film classes with Sam at SF State. We met at the top of Pacific Garden Mall and wandered down to The Catalyst for a couple beers. There is a certain vibe creeping back into Santa Cruz - it feels a bit more like its old self again. There was a homogenization after the big quake in '89, and it hadn't retained that old Santa Cruz bohemian weirdness. Some of that is back.
And The Catalyst hasn't changed at all.
Tuesday, 7/25: Still hot. The whole family met at Hobee's in Sunnyvale, where we had a trustee meeting and ate the famous blueberry coffee cake. Sara, Gavin & Michelle took Kayleigh and went to Great America, while Tyler & I headed into Palo Alto. I helped Katherine get to some stuff in the storeroom (which is basically the finished room in the garage of her rental home, the room that was once my dad's office, and my room when we kids moved in with them in 1984).
Then Tyler & I went up to University Avenue to meet with my buddy Mark, Pixar veteran, husband, father of twin 5yo boys. Mark and I went to school at Aptos, then lost touch when he moved to Athens, GA and I moved to Palo Alto. We reconnected in 1989 when Dave Beach and I were taking film courses at De Anza College and Mark just happened to be in one. The last time I'd seen Mark, the twins were less than a year old and Sam got to hold them. I'm happy that Mark & I have the kind of friendship that is always good - it's not a high-maintenance thing. There is always love and respect, regardless of time and distance.
Came back to the motel and let Tyler have a swim, then I collapsed and got a short nap between phone calls. Sara and the girls finally made it back about 6:PM, and she took off to hang out with her friends. My old friend Mike (whom I've known since 3rd grade) came out and we took the girls out for Chinese food while Tyler hung out in the motel room. After some digestion and whatnot, the kids got a swim and Mike & I got to chat. I'd seen Mike last year when he took his motorcycle road trip to Seattle, but it was still good to get caught up. Good things are happening to the two of us, and I hope it continues.
After a day at Great America, an hour in the pool and a belly full of Chinese food, the kids crashed out and are still not awake at the time of this posting.
Today we plan to have lunch with my uncle, and hopefully will get to see Dave Beach again before we leave.
This has been a wonderful trip, made so by the friends and family with whom we've interacted. But once again, it reassures me I live in the right city, that this area is not my home. I can't wait to get home and see Wiley and James Brown, see what progress has been made on the house, get set for Ordinary Angels casting... it's coming up on Crazy Time this fall.
Hang on tight.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
[blink] WHAT?? TWENTY YEARS??
So, yeah.
Tomorrow morning, I will board a plane with my children, my sister and my neice. We will be hanging out in the old hood for a week. Oh yeah, and we're gonna scatter my dad's ashes off the Santa Cruz coast, where we did my grandfather's back in '84. My big bro Randy will be in attendance on the sail, and we're going to hang out in Santa Cruz for drinks that night, sort of an early birthday thingy for him.
Hoping to see a bunch of folks. Will likely be doing exactly that at the family BBQ for the Palo Alto High School class of '86. For you young folks reading this, I'm talking about 1886, when President Grover Cleveland wed himself a young girl in the White House and Karl Benz patented his newfangled gasoline-powered automobile. Coca-Cola was a nickel and Spain abolished slavery in Cuba.
Just kidding. I'm not quite that old.
No, we're talking 1986, when gasoline prices broke $1 per gallon and caused a major public outcry. We had funny colored hair and made sure our ties matched our socks, worshipped teen-avatar John Hughes and an art house Aussie named Mel Gibson. The space shuttle Challenger blew up, Germany was still two separate countries, and Ronald Reagan made jokes about starting World War 3. Huzzah!
It was also the year I released my first film, took a roadtrip to Canada with my future wife, and realized that the easy part was over - I was a legal adult and needed to act the part. So much for that. All that history was part of another life, and although I can look back fondly and remember the fun and challenging times I had when I was "that guy", I'm not "that guy" anymore. So it'll be interesting to see friends from that time, see how they've changed (or not). I have zero expectations and quite a few non-school chums to link up with.
While we're gone, the contractors should be hanging drywall. The garden window is in and the floors & doors have been chosen. There's electrical wire, coaxial cable and CAT5 network cable running everywhere. I hope to come back to solid walls.
I'll keep blogging from CA, if I can. Peace out, my homies.
Tomorrow morning, I will board a plane with my children, my sister and my neice. We will be hanging out in the old hood for a week. Oh yeah, and we're gonna scatter my dad's ashes off the Santa Cruz coast, where we did my grandfather's back in '84. My big bro Randy will be in attendance on the sail, and we're going to hang out in Santa Cruz for drinks that night, sort of an early birthday thingy for him.
Hoping to see a bunch of folks. Will likely be doing exactly that at the family BBQ for the Palo Alto High School class of '86. For you young folks reading this, I'm talking about 1886, when President Grover Cleveland wed himself a young girl in the White House and Karl Benz patented his newfangled gasoline-powered automobile. Coca-Cola was a nickel and Spain abolished slavery in Cuba.
Just kidding. I'm not quite that old.
No, we're talking 1986, when gasoline prices broke $1 per gallon and caused a major public outcry. We had funny colored hair and made sure our ties matched our socks, worshipped teen-avatar John Hughes and an art house Aussie named Mel Gibson. The space shuttle Challenger blew up, Germany was still two separate countries, and Ronald Reagan made jokes about starting World War 3. Huzzah!
It was also the year I released my first film, took a roadtrip to Canada with my future wife, and realized that the easy part was over - I was a legal adult and needed to act the part. So much for that. All that history was part of another life, and although I can look back fondly and remember the fun and challenging times I had when I was "that guy", I'm not "that guy" anymore. So it'll be interesting to see friends from that time, see how they've changed (or not). I have zero expectations and quite a few non-school chums to link up with.
While we're gone, the contractors should be hanging drywall. The garden window is in and the floors & doors have been chosen. There's electrical wire, coaxial cable and CAT5 network cable running everywhere. I hope to come back to solid walls.
I'll keep blogging from CA, if I can. Peace out, my homies.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Serendipitous, And Then Some
Last night, as I slipped off to sleep, I surrendered to the goodwill of the Universe, and asked for good things to be put in my path...
This morning, as I awoke refreshed from a restful sleep, I offered thanks for the gifts it had offered in the past, and made it known I was ready for some Really Good Stuff (TM)...
I went to Southcenter with Kayleigh to replace the leather jacket I'd lost in the fire. We hit Wilson's, and I found an awesome black bomber in a "big & tall" cut (for length, thank you - I have been losing weight). Discovered this jacket (ordinarily $350) was on clearance for $60.
Thank you, Universe!
Took Kayleigh to the West Seattle street fair, parked at my brother's place and walked up the hill to the Junction. As we passed the stalls of Hawaiian ice and tie-dye clothing and political-cause-on-a-stick, I saw that Village Woodworks was having a sale (PLUS they pay sales tax). On a whim, I ducked inside to walk around and look. Ordinarily, they are way out of my range - REALLY awesome, solid wood furniture in the $1000+ range for just about anything. But I happened to spy a solid pine dining table in a country/craftsman style, with corner legs (thick and lathe turned), 4 matching chairs like the set we used to have, $280. AND they'll hold it until the house is finished. One less room to furnish, at a STEAL for the quality!
Thank you, Universe!
On the way back to Gavin's, we passed the south stage, and who should be performing a live acoustic set, but my favorite Seattle songbird, Carrie Akre (formerly of Hammerbox, Goodness and The Rockfords)?! She showcased a few of the songs from her new album in-progress, as well as a few of her earlier solo pieces. Kayleigh sat piggyback and got to see one of her singer-songwriter idols. We got an intimate serenade from 10-feet away, and left the fair at the end of her set, very happy indeed.
Thank you, Universe!
We arrived home to find the painters working on the north side of the house. And Shandalla came over and cooked lemon chicken and green beans and a mozzarella/tomato/basil salad for dinner.
Thank you, Universe!
I'm so happy with today. I mean, it really doesn't matter how or why - whether its random chance, or just my perception of good stuff happening or whether I'm making it happen by putting myself in synch with the Universe. What matters is I feel in synch, and I feel like I'm empowering myself (forgive the use of the "e" word) to manifest good in my life.
It's just another step forward, and it's nice to feel like I'm not taking three steps back at the same time. And it's nice to feel like I'm not jousting my daily windmills for nothing.
Tomorrow starts the kids' Pacific Science Center day camps, so I may not have a lot of time to post this coming week. We leave Friday morning for California. I will try to take pictures and post some here.
This morning, as I awoke refreshed from a restful sleep, I offered thanks for the gifts it had offered in the past, and made it known I was ready for some Really Good Stuff (TM)...
I went to Southcenter with Kayleigh to replace the leather jacket I'd lost in the fire. We hit Wilson's, and I found an awesome black bomber in a "big & tall" cut (for length, thank you - I have been losing weight). Discovered this jacket (ordinarily $350) was on clearance for $60.
Thank you, Universe!
Took Kayleigh to the West Seattle street fair, parked at my brother's place and walked up the hill to the Junction. As we passed the stalls of Hawaiian ice and tie-dye clothing and political-cause-on-a-stick, I saw that Village Woodworks was having a sale (PLUS they pay sales tax). On a whim, I ducked inside to walk around and look. Ordinarily, they are way out of my range - REALLY awesome, solid wood furniture in the $1000+ range for just about anything. But I happened to spy a solid pine dining table in a country/craftsman style, with corner legs (thick and lathe turned), 4 matching chairs like the set we used to have, $280. AND they'll hold it until the house is finished. One less room to furnish, at a STEAL for the quality!
Thank you, Universe!
On the way back to Gavin's, we passed the south stage, and who should be performing a live acoustic set, but my favorite Seattle songbird, Carrie Akre (formerly of Hammerbox, Goodness and The Rockfords)?! She showcased a few of the songs from her new album in-progress, as well as a few of her earlier solo pieces. Kayleigh sat piggyback and got to see one of her singer-songwriter idols. We got an intimate serenade from 10-feet away, and left the fair at the end of her set, very happy indeed.
Thank you, Universe!
We arrived home to find the painters working on the north side of the house. And Shandalla came over and cooked lemon chicken and green beans and a mozzarella/tomato/basil salad for dinner.
Thank you, Universe!
I'm so happy with today. I mean, it really doesn't matter how or why - whether its random chance, or just my perception of good stuff happening or whether I'm making it happen by putting myself in synch with the Universe. What matters is I feel in synch, and I feel like I'm empowering myself (forgive the use of the "e" word) to manifest good in my life.
It's just another step forward, and it's nice to feel like I'm not taking three steps back at the same time. And it's nice to feel like I'm not jousting my daily windmills for nothing.
Tomorrow starts the kids' Pacific Science Center day camps, so I may not have a lot of time to post this coming week. We leave Friday morning for California. I will try to take pictures and post some here.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Once More, Unto the Breach
So I managed to get through the week (le pant, le gasp). Think I put more miles on the car this week than in the past month. Mostly in trips down to Southcenter to order, pick up and/or exchange lighting hardware for the house. The HVAC guys ended up taking up a lot more space downstairs than before, so there are a number of very... er, "creative" soffit constructs here and there. It is so amazing to see how little these guys consider the other trades when doing their own work. 'Scuse me, just gonna bust through this wall here... what? You don't want a two-foot box hanging down from the middle of your bedroom ceiling??
Anyway, the insurance company, in their infinite generosity, has given me a whopping $1500.00 allowance for replacing my upstairs appliances. That means I will be out of pocket another four grand or so (on top of the four grand for the cabinetry). Joy. We can cover that with some of the contents settlement, but I really have to be careful.
Looks like I will be running speaker and network cable today and tomorrow, and the electrical will be finished up next week (followed by inspection). Insulation will also go in next week, and the drywall will go up while we're in California. Target date for move-in is end of September.
It's hell trying to keep organized records in this micro-office next to my bed, but I really need to pull together all the financials from last tax year to give to my poor, long-suffering accountant. I wonder if there is a subconscious reason I've procrastinated so long in getting the records together - like it's a way to hold onto Sam. 2005 is the last tax year I can file married. A lot happened that year. A lot I'd like to forget, and a lot I never want to forget.
Or maybe it's just because we had a fire and a lot of our records were destroyed, and I've had a host of other priorities at the same time. Regardless of the excuse, I need to get the records to the accountant before we leave for California.
My neighbor/friend/actress/producer Darlene accompanied the kids and me to the hospital on Thursday night to visit Caleb. He's in fine, surly spirits. Apparently, his major criteria for being discharged is that he must fart. I offered to bring him some Taco del Mar, but he declined. Apparently beef broth, jello and tea are more his thing. Honestly, I didn't expect both kids to want to go with us to the hospital - the last two people they visited in such a setting died. But they did, and they were good. The kids left a mantra on the whiteboard:
Happy thought for the day...
FART!
Addendum: Andrew has this posted over at his LiveJournal. I decided to check it out, and surprise surprise...
Anyway, the insurance company, in their infinite generosity, has given me a whopping $1500.00 allowance for replacing my upstairs appliances. That means I will be out of pocket another four grand or so (on top of the four grand for the cabinetry). Joy. We can cover that with some of the contents settlement, but I really have to be careful.
Looks like I will be running speaker and network cable today and tomorrow, and the electrical will be finished up next week (followed by inspection). Insulation will also go in next week, and the drywall will go up while we're in California. Target date for move-in is end of September.
It's hell trying to keep organized records in this micro-office next to my bed, but I really need to pull together all the financials from last tax year to give to my poor, long-suffering accountant. I wonder if there is a subconscious reason I've procrastinated so long in getting the records together - like it's a way to hold onto Sam. 2005 is the last tax year I can file married. A lot happened that year. A lot I'd like to forget, and a lot I never want to forget.
Or maybe it's just because we had a fire and a lot of our records were destroyed, and I've had a host of other priorities at the same time. Regardless of the excuse, I need to get the records to the accountant before we leave for California.
My neighbor/friend/actress/producer Darlene accompanied the kids and me to the hospital on Thursday night to visit Caleb. He's in fine, surly spirits. Apparently, his major criteria for being discharged is that he must fart. I offered to bring him some Taco del Mar, but he declined. Apparently beef broth, jello and tea are more his thing. Honestly, I didn't expect both kids to want to go with us to the hospital - the last two people they visited in such a setting died. But they did, and they were good. The kids left a mantra on the whiteboard:
Happy thought for the day...
FART!
Addendum: Andrew has this posted over at his LiveJournal. I decided to check it out, and surprise surprise...
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Pirates of the Hasselhoff
Took the kids to Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. I liked it. Some parts were a bit scary for Kayleigh, but she was never scared to the point of closing her eyes - she just squeezed my hand and whispered, "Eeeewww - that guy has an octopus head!" Tyler loved it, especially the return of the zombie monkey from Curse of the Black Pearl. Be sure to stay for the credits, as there is an extra little tidbit at the end.
Afterward, we went to Seattle Lighting and picked up the fixtures for the house. Drove all the way home with an 8-foot track light bar bisecting the interior of the Sportage. It was cool to get out with the kids and do a summer thing like go to a great popcorn type movie.
Of course, I got home to see my brother had left me a message consisting of this link. He said it would make me want to gouge out my eyes with forks. He was right.
So now I sit typing blind with stupid forks in my eye sockets, and rejoicing that the plumber is back out at the house, fixing some issues. I think we passed plumbing inspection and he was going to make said changes after said inspection. And I have a rental house living room full of boxed light fixtures. I win.
Spare some juju for my good friend Caleb, who has gone under the knife today to have almost a foot of his colon removed. We're thinking about you, buddy!
Afterward, we went to Seattle Lighting and picked up the fixtures for the house. Drove all the way home with an 8-foot track light bar bisecting the interior of the Sportage. It was cool to get out with the kids and do a summer thing like go to a great popcorn type movie.
Of course, I got home to see my brother had left me a message consisting of this link. He said it would make me want to gouge out my eyes with forks. He was right.
So now I sit typing blind with stupid forks in my eye sockets, and rejoicing that the plumber is back out at the house, fixing some issues. I think we passed plumbing inspection and he was going to make said changes after said inspection. And I have a rental house living room full of boxed light fixtures. I win.
Spare some juju for my good friend Caleb, who has gone under the knife today to have almost a foot of his colon removed. We're thinking about you, buddy!
Monday, July 10, 2006
Manic Monday
Wow.
Just... Wow.
Awoke to Wiley going seven kinds of apeshit because of all the activity happening at the house today. The painters were there, working on the exterior. The electricians were there, running wire. The HVAC guys were there, running heating conduit. I went over and started pruning the neglected hazelnut trees, and of course got pulled aside by each sub for an opinion or clarification.
Then these local gardeners came by asking for work. Half an hour and $100 later, the giant camelia bush in front and its nondescript bushy cousin around the side were gone, chopped up and hauled away. Sweet.
Steve came by to have lunch, which was awesome. Been too long since I've seen the Bro-Hamma.
And here are some pics of the outside of the house now...
Just... Wow.
Awoke to Wiley going seven kinds of apeshit because of all the activity happening at the house today. The painters were there, working on the exterior. The electricians were there, running wire. The HVAC guys were there, running heating conduit. I went over and started pruning the neglected hazelnut trees, and of course got pulled aside by each sub for an opinion or clarification.
Then these local gardeners came by asking for work. Half an hour and $100 later, the giant camelia bush in front and its nondescript bushy cousin around the side were gone, chopped up and hauled away. Sweet.
Steve came by to have lunch, which was awesome. Been too long since I've seen the Bro-Hamma.
And here are some pics of the outside of the house now...
Saturday, July 08, 2006
As Promised...
As promised, here's the final poster for Once Upon a Mattress. I usually strive for more of an artistic design sense (see last year's poster for Fiddler on the Roof), but in choosing the Medieval illumination motif, I kind of limited my options in that regard.In the tradition of Medieval picture commentary, I added little "word balloons". The prince on horseback is saying, "More than my ice cream do I love thee... let us get hitched," to which the princess replies, "Pulleth my finger." The dude on the far right is holding a coffee pot (embellished with a slightly altered logo from a particular Seattle-based coffee company), and promising, "One venti double-shot espresso cometh up."
I'm off to my friend Shandalla's birthday gathering. Coffee tomorrow AM with Ron, followed by studio time at Brian's, to lay down the basic tracks for the last three songs on the tribute CD - by God, I will get that done. Then I have to go by rehearsal in the PM to drop off a CD with the poster and flyer designs so they can get materials ready for the West Seattle Street Fair.
The plumber has been working all weekend on my house, so hopefully he will be done when the electrician comes in on Monday to start running wire. I just bought my couches for the family room at the local LaZboy clearance (and even at clearance - yikes!), and am having them hold the pieces for 2 months to allow the contractors to finish. The painter has already started on the exterior. Every day it takes shape a bit more.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
All Depression and No Sleep Makes Todd Something Something
"Go crazy?"
"Don't MIND if I do!!"
Skipping ahead from the Simpsons reference, one of the reasons I have not posted in the last several days is that I've not been getting more than 3 to 4 hours sleep at night. Part of it is depression. When Samantha and I were together, one of the things we did was put up with each other - I think that's a certain percentage of every relationship. You put up with each other's quirks and foibles. I put up with her explosive temper, and she put up with my "artistic temperament", by which of course I mean bipolar swings. Oh yes. That particular condition is pretty common in the general public, and my family is a little cutaway view.
In the months after our marriage counseling in 2000, I decided to see a shrink - just to get a few things ironed out and refine my toolkit for being a productive partner. What came out of those few sessions were: 1) clarity of the behavior patterns on both sides of my family; 2) a diagnosis of "mild bipolar disorder".
Fortunately, the shrink recommended I not seek a pharmaceutical remedy. By his reasoning, I had a mild form of the condition, meaning my highs and lows were slightly higher and lower than the average joe. He also said that because I'd demonstrated throughout my life the ability to "ride the lows" and "capitalize on the productive energy of the highs", medication in my case would only dull the extremes and serve to neuter my artistic insight. I believe great art is born of extremes - some of the greatest minds in history weren't quite right.
But this also means that after I lost my wife and father so close together, my depressive swings throughout the grief process tend to be lower than normal (but since there's truly no "normal" in grief, that and four bucks will buy you a latte).
So for the past week, I've simply been treading water - dealing with the immediate needs of the kids, the contractors, and my family and friends. The rest of the time I'm pretty dead inside. Some people sleep a lot when they're depressed. I wish that were my case. But it's not. I sulk, stew and get really quiet. In the past, "down" times like this have inspired some of my best creative concepts. But this time, the "down" is mostly focused on feeling isolated.
If we were in our own house, it would be better.
If dad were here, it would be better.
If Sam were alive and healthy, it would be better.
Or so the depression says. I take it with a grain of salt. Nothing that goes on in my brain during these cycles do I take 100% seriously. It's all part of the process, and eventually things will be more in-balance.
So last night, for the first time in over a week, I got 7 hours of sleep. And I had what was probably the second most disturbing dream about Sam (the first being detailed in the So Long and Goodnight entry). Keep in mind we've lived in the same house in the same neighborhood since early 1995, and have seen a lot of development occur to the local area in the past 11 years. So I was not surprised to find myself standing in a composite setting of the Westwood parking lot between the BofA and the Staples, mixed with a bunch of downtown Renton of all places (we did live in Renton for our first year and a half in Washington, before moving to West Seattle in 1992).
So I'm there, looking around at the different construction, marveling at how different everything looks from my vantage point. And suddenly Sam is approaching me, healthy, 30-ish, worried look on her face, arms outstretched in a hug. I put up my hands and turn away. I can't face her again. She's dead, damnit, and this isn't fair. She's giving me that concerned cooing she usually did to calm me down when I was upset - the shushing, the "it's okay honey", all of it. And I'm trying to be strong and turn away through a veil of tears. "Please don't," I protest. "You're dead. I can't do this again. It hurts too much."
And she comes right up to me and wraps me in a soft embrace, and I feel my defenses crumble. I melt into her arms. "I'm so sorry," she whispers in my ear. "I'm so sorry, baby." She cradles my face in her hands and touches her forehead to mine. "I love you. I'm so sorry." She keeps repeating it over and over.
She mentions someone else being responsible, but responsible for what, I'm not sure. It seemed to have to do with the cancer, an earlier diagnosis and/or different treatments. Coulda-woulda-shoulda stuff. It's a dream - it rarely makes rational sense. And by that point, I feel too overwhelmed to make any rational sense of anything. The end.
These things always make me feel like I've taken a huge step backward in letting go. But I guess now is a good time for any of that to go on, since I'm not dating or in a relationship. It could be disastrous later.
I'm not sure this makes any sense, and it really doesn't matter - this blog is primarily my catharsis, and secondarily a touchstone for others. Speaking of which, I would like to thank those people who have emailed me, widda and non-widda alike. It feels good to know you appreciate what I write here, and some of you can identify with the path I walk.
A non-blogging widda friend (who shall remain anonymous) recently wrote me to express her current state, and I could really identify with this piece:
"I go through each day with a mask on. I throw fake smiles at everyone, I drone into the mindless chatter with co-workers and people have actually said that they admire my strength and I feel like screaming at the top of lungs because I don't have it together, I am broken and I fear this will be my fate until the grave finally accepts this carcass known as my flesh, because the spirit seems to have already abandoned me..."
This really sums up loss and the grief process. There's a lot of fear involved. A lot of unknowns. And sometimes the best we can do is to be there for (and lean on) one another. Just keep moving - in any direction. Because movement - in any direction - is still movement. Grief is a cyclical beast. There are no whys and hows. It just is, and you take the experience and hope you become a stronger human being for having it.
Be well.
"Don't MIND if I do!!"
Skipping ahead from the Simpsons reference, one of the reasons I have not posted in the last several days is that I've not been getting more than 3 to 4 hours sleep at night. Part of it is depression. When Samantha and I were together, one of the things we did was put up with each other - I think that's a certain percentage of every relationship. You put up with each other's quirks and foibles. I put up with her explosive temper, and she put up with my "artistic temperament", by which of course I mean bipolar swings. Oh yes. That particular condition is pretty common in the general public, and my family is a little cutaway view.
In the months after our marriage counseling in 2000, I decided to see a shrink - just to get a few things ironed out and refine my toolkit for being a productive partner. What came out of those few sessions were: 1) clarity of the behavior patterns on both sides of my family; 2) a diagnosis of "mild bipolar disorder".
Fortunately, the shrink recommended I not seek a pharmaceutical remedy. By his reasoning, I had a mild form of the condition, meaning my highs and lows were slightly higher and lower than the average joe. He also said that because I'd demonstrated throughout my life the ability to "ride the lows" and "capitalize on the productive energy of the highs", medication in my case would only dull the extremes and serve to neuter my artistic insight. I believe great art is born of extremes - some of the greatest minds in history weren't quite right.
But this also means that after I lost my wife and father so close together, my depressive swings throughout the grief process tend to be lower than normal (but since there's truly no "normal" in grief, that and four bucks will buy you a latte).
So for the past week, I've simply been treading water - dealing with the immediate needs of the kids, the contractors, and my family and friends. The rest of the time I'm pretty dead inside. Some people sleep a lot when they're depressed. I wish that were my case. But it's not. I sulk, stew and get really quiet. In the past, "down" times like this have inspired some of my best creative concepts. But this time, the "down" is mostly focused on feeling isolated.
If we were in our own house, it would be better.
If dad were here, it would be better.
If Sam were alive and healthy, it would be better.
Or so the depression says. I take it with a grain of salt. Nothing that goes on in my brain during these cycles do I take 100% seriously. It's all part of the process, and eventually things will be more in-balance.
So last night, for the first time in over a week, I got 7 hours of sleep. And I had what was probably the second most disturbing dream about Sam (the first being detailed in the So Long and Goodnight entry). Keep in mind we've lived in the same house in the same neighborhood since early 1995, and have seen a lot of development occur to the local area in the past 11 years. So I was not surprised to find myself standing in a composite setting of the Westwood parking lot between the BofA and the Staples, mixed with a bunch of downtown Renton of all places (we did live in Renton for our first year and a half in Washington, before moving to West Seattle in 1992).
So I'm there, looking around at the different construction, marveling at how different everything looks from my vantage point. And suddenly Sam is approaching me, healthy, 30-ish, worried look on her face, arms outstretched in a hug. I put up my hands and turn away. I can't face her again. She's dead, damnit, and this isn't fair. She's giving me that concerned cooing she usually did to calm me down when I was upset - the shushing, the "it's okay honey", all of it. And I'm trying to be strong and turn away through a veil of tears. "Please don't," I protest. "You're dead. I can't do this again. It hurts too much."
And she comes right up to me and wraps me in a soft embrace, and I feel my defenses crumble. I melt into her arms. "I'm so sorry," she whispers in my ear. "I'm so sorry, baby." She cradles my face in her hands and touches her forehead to mine. "I love you. I'm so sorry." She keeps repeating it over and over.
She mentions someone else being responsible, but responsible for what, I'm not sure. It seemed to have to do with the cancer, an earlier diagnosis and/or different treatments. Coulda-woulda-shoulda stuff. It's a dream - it rarely makes rational sense. And by that point, I feel too overwhelmed to make any rational sense of anything. The end.
These things always make me feel like I've taken a huge step backward in letting go. But I guess now is a good time for any of that to go on, since I'm not dating or in a relationship. It could be disastrous later.
I'm not sure this makes any sense, and it really doesn't matter - this blog is primarily my catharsis, and secondarily a touchstone for others. Speaking of which, I would like to thank those people who have emailed me, widda and non-widda alike. It feels good to know you appreciate what I write here, and some of you can identify with the path I walk.
A non-blogging widda friend (who shall remain anonymous) recently wrote me to express her current state, and I could really identify with this piece:
"I go through each day with a mask on. I throw fake smiles at everyone, I drone into the mindless chatter with co-workers and people have actually said that they admire my strength and I feel like screaming at the top of lungs because I don't have it together, I am broken and I fear this will be my fate until the grave finally accepts this carcass known as my flesh, because the spirit seems to have already abandoned me..."
This really sums up loss and the grief process. There's a lot of fear involved. A lot of unknowns. And sometimes the best we can do is to be there for (and lean on) one another. Just keep moving - in any direction. Because movement - in any direction - is still movement. Grief is a cyclical beast. There are no whys and hows. It just is, and you take the experience and hope you become a stronger human being for having it.
Be well.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Summer Craziness (and Some are Not)
The pun above is courtesy of my late father, a big fan of language and dumb humor. And of course, I got stuck with the same warped sense of humor, albeit with a bit more cultivated sense of irony and sarcasm - (big wink to pop on that one).
The week has been filled with the usual packed scheduling of dealing with contractors, planning family events, entertaining two schoolchildren without the school, while trying to check off the items on my own to-do roster.
I started on the poster for this summer's Pandemonium show, Once Upon a Mattress. At first I thought I might do a stacked-up mattress design with the title in the layers of mattress. Then I went online and discovered that EVERYONE DOES A STACKED-UP MATTRESS DESIGN WITH THE TITLE IN THE LAYERS OF MATTRESS. So I decided instead on a more classic Medieval illuminated manuscript idea. Looks good so far. I'll post it here when it's all approved and stuff.
Had a production meeting for Ordinary Angels with Heath Ward & Darlene Sellers last night. The test scene we shot on Wednesday looked good enough that we unanimously green-lit the project and are shooting in September. I'm thrilled and petrified at the same time, but Heath is a real pro and makes the process a lot easier. Caleb and I are scouting locations tomorrow.
Took the kids to see Cars today, and were not disappointed. Pixar is a storymaking machine, and hasn't failed to stay on-message for seven films. It is a great story, beautifully executed, full of remarkable characters and great shtick.
Tyler & I had another butting of heads until 2:30 AM last night, but we ironed it out today and had a great time at lunch and the movies.
Just let me get through all the summer events and get the kids back in school...
Oh, and we may be able to move back into our home by mid-September. There was much rejoicing... or, there will be, when we actually do the moving.
The week has been filled with the usual packed scheduling of dealing with contractors, planning family events, entertaining two schoolchildren without the school, while trying to check off the items on my own to-do roster.
I started on the poster for this summer's Pandemonium show, Once Upon a Mattress. At first I thought I might do a stacked-up mattress design with the title in the layers of mattress. Then I went online and discovered that EVERYONE DOES A STACKED-UP MATTRESS DESIGN WITH THE TITLE IN THE LAYERS OF MATTRESS. So I decided instead on a more classic Medieval illuminated manuscript idea. Looks good so far. I'll post it here when it's all approved and stuff.
Had a production meeting for Ordinary Angels with Heath Ward & Darlene Sellers last night. The test scene we shot on Wednesday looked good enough that we unanimously green-lit the project and are shooting in September. I'm thrilled and petrified at the same time, but Heath is a real pro and makes the process a lot easier. Caleb and I are scouting locations tomorrow.
Took the kids to see Cars today, and were not disappointed. Pixar is a storymaking machine, and hasn't failed to stay on-message for seven films. It is a great story, beautifully executed, full of remarkable characters and great shtick.
Tyler & I had another butting of heads until 2:30 AM last night, but we ironed it out today and had a great time at lunch and the movies.
Just let me get through all the summer events and get the kids back in school...
Oh, and we may be able to move back into our home by mid-September. There was much rejoicing... or, there will be, when we actually do the moving.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Too Bloody Hot
So when you're acclimated to 55-degree T-shirt weather and crisp, cool rain, it's a little unreasonable to expect daytime 90s and nighttime 60s to be comfortable. It's supposed to hit 93 today, with overnight temps staying at a balmy 62. Even with windows open and fans on, it's 4:30AM wake-up time, laying in a puddle of your own sweat. Nice.
To catch you up on the weekend, Kayleigh was awesome in both of her dance recital shows. We got a short visit from Sam's folks, and got to see her brother and SIL at the Saturday evening show. The Sunday afternoon show had my stepmom, brother and SIL in attendance (actually stepmom saw both shows). Kayleigh is excited about joining prep next month.
Tyler seems to have stabilized enough that our doctor reduced his meds dosage for the summer to see how he does (and hopefully catch up on some growing and weight gain).
Work continues on the house. We now have a door from the downstairs hall into the carport, where previously none existed. I'd always wanted a door there (or anywhere downstairs, really), but I was always vetoed by the boss lady. There was always something more pressing on our finances. But now, it's an egress issue as well as a convenience issue, and we now have a little concrete stairway leading down in the corner of the carport slab to a 6-panel steel exterior door. The contractors also purchased the replacement for the upper story back door, and I expect that will be installed this week.
We aced the framing inspection, which bought us a lot of momentum, since the subs are all lined up to do the work. This week the painter will start on the exterior (taking advantage of our lovely sunny week) while the plumber and electrician get started on the inside. I chose the cabinetry last Friday, and am shopping for appliances. I also decided to run coaxial, network cable and audio wiring everywhere while the walls are open and the electrician is rewiring the house. You never know when something like that will come in handy, and this way the kids can have their school computers networked in their bedroom study areas. It will be a very different house when this is done.
Speaking of different, I showed Ron the place on Sunday after our usual coffee chat, and he made a suggestion for the family room that I absolutely love. Since insurance had to cover my brand new video projector that perished in the fire as well as the brand new widescreen HDTV, and since I'm running all these internal wires and cables, I've decided not to replace the big TV at all. I'll replace the video projector, mount it from the ceiling over the arch between the dining and family rooms, and build in a drop-down projection screen on the north wall. All our media can be pumped through the projector - from cable signal to DVD to the video workstation computer in my office. The room will already be wired for surround sound. And when the screen is not displaying a giant video image, it will hide in the ceiling and reveal framed art on the wall. That way we keep the room "big" by not having a giant tube or even plasma set intrude into the room on some gargantuan wall unit.
I'm also putting a small wood stove in the northwest corner of the room, to cozy it up a bit for winter. The new heating system is 100% electric, and while we haven't lost power in years, it's still nice to have a backup heat source.
Ran across a song I recorded for Sam's 32nd birthday, entitled "More Than Yesterday". This was part of a compilation CD of love songs I put together for her in 1999. A year before our near-split. Three years before her diagnosis. The lyrics are extremely personal and pretty sappy, but it's an interesting snapshot in time.
Was it just yesterday
You took a skinny surfer boy
And caught him in your spell
You were a green-eyed girl
Who grew into the woman
That I know and love so well
But that was years ago
Now we're staring down that
Twisting, turning road of life
I see inside of you
The spark that makes you more
Than Woman, Lover, Mom or Wife
Now here we are again
At the crossroads again
With a will that will not bend
Chaotic history
At times it made want to
Run away and cast it all aside
A case of destiny
You've made it up to me a thousand
Times throughout our lives
Now here we are again
At the crossroads again
With a love that will not end
And when the sky is overcome with gray
And when the dawn breaks to another day
I cross my heart and promise, come what may
I'll love you more than yesterday
Now that time has passed
And home and children keep us
Marching to another tune
Every day it seems
I find another reason to fall
Back in love with you
And when we're old and overcome with gray
And when the dawn breaks to another day
I cross my heart and promise, come what may
I'll love you more than yesterday
- Todd Downing, 1999
To catch you up on the weekend, Kayleigh was awesome in both of her dance recital shows. We got a short visit from Sam's folks, and got to see her brother and SIL at the Saturday evening show. The Sunday afternoon show had my stepmom, brother and SIL in attendance (actually stepmom saw both shows). Kayleigh is excited about joining prep next month.
Tyler seems to have stabilized enough that our doctor reduced his meds dosage for the summer to see how he does (and hopefully catch up on some growing and weight gain).
Work continues on the house. We now have a door from the downstairs hall into the carport, where previously none existed. I'd always wanted a door there (or anywhere downstairs, really), but I was always vetoed by the boss lady. There was always something more pressing on our finances. But now, it's an egress issue as well as a convenience issue, and we now have a little concrete stairway leading down in the corner of the carport slab to a 6-panel steel exterior door. The contractors also purchased the replacement for the upper story back door, and I expect that will be installed this week.
We aced the framing inspection, which bought us a lot of momentum, since the subs are all lined up to do the work. This week the painter will start on the exterior (taking advantage of our lovely sunny week) while the plumber and electrician get started on the inside. I chose the cabinetry last Friday, and am shopping for appliances. I also decided to run coaxial, network cable and audio wiring everywhere while the walls are open and the electrician is rewiring the house. You never know when something like that will come in handy, and this way the kids can have their school computers networked in their bedroom study areas. It will be a very different house when this is done.
Speaking of different, I showed Ron the place on Sunday after our usual coffee chat, and he made a suggestion for the family room that I absolutely love. Since insurance had to cover my brand new video projector that perished in the fire as well as the brand new widescreen HDTV, and since I'm running all these internal wires and cables, I've decided not to replace the big TV at all. I'll replace the video projector, mount it from the ceiling over the arch between the dining and family rooms, and build in a drop-down projection screen on the north wall. All our media can be pumped through the projector - from cable signal to DVD to the video workstation computer in my office. The room will already be wired for surround sound. And when the screen is not displaying a giant video image, it will hide in the ceiling and reveal framed art on the wall. That way we keep the room "big" by not having a giant tube or even plasma set intrude into the room on some gargantuan wall unit.
I'm also putting a small wood stove in the northwest corner of the room, to cozy it up a bit for winter. The new heating system is 100% electric, and while we haven't lost power in years, it's still nice to have a backup heat source.
Ran across a song I recorded for Sam's 32nd birthday, entitled "More Than Yesterday". This was part of a compilation CD of love songs I put together for her in 1999. A year before our near-split. Three years before her diagnosis. The lyrics are extremely personal and pretty sappy, but it's an interesting snapshot in time.
Was it just yesterday
You took a skinny surfer boy
And caught him in your spell
You were a green-eyed girl
Who grew into the woman
That I know and love so well
But that was years ago
Now we're staring down that
Twisting, turning road of life
I see inside of you
The spark that makes you more
Than Woman, Lover, Mom or Wife
Now here we are again
At the crossroads again
With a will that will not bend
Chaotic history
At times it made want to
Run away and cast it all aside
A case of destiny
You've made it up to me a thousand
Times throughout our lives
Now here we are again
At the crossroads again
With a love that will not end
And when the sky is overcome with gray
And when the dawn breaks to another day
I cross my heart and promise, come what may
I'll love you more than yesterday
Now that time has passed
And home and children keep us
Marching to another tune
Every day it seems
I find another reason to fall
Back in love with you
And when we're old and overcome with gray
And when the dawn breaks to another day
I cross my heart and promise, come what may
I'll love you more than yesterday
- Todd Downing, 1999
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Last Day
The kids have their last day of school today, and everyone exclaims, "wow - I didn't think anyone was still in school... my kids have been out since March and we've already been to the Bahamas for two weeks!" We didn't even have any snow days this year, so whaddupwidat?
Tyler and Kayleigh decided to walk down to QFC yesterday and use their own money to buy snacks. I agreed, using the following points of logic:
Skip ahead, to 2:15 AM, and I'm sitting on the kids' bedroom floor in my underwear, scrubbing Tyler's vomit out of the carpet while he goes back to sleep, and Kayleigh groans, "I will never eat junk food again."
It was a lesson learned the hard way, for both of them. And even as I sat scrubbing purple puke from cream-colored carpet in the wee hours, I got some perverse satisfaction that they were learning an important concept about health and moderation without me drilling it into their brains. It was the ultimate feeling of parental I Told You So without resorting to saying it aloud.
Of course, Tyler was absolutely impossible to drag out the door this morning, and ended up getting his games taken away for the second day in a row (and on the last day of school - bummer). Honestly, I don't know how someone can end up being so choosy about friggin' track pants.
Sigh. Apple slices and granola bars, anyone?
Tyler and Kayleigh decided to walk down to QFC yesterday and use their own money to buy snacks. I agreed, using the following points of logic:
- They are 8 & 12, and know how to cross streets properly
- QFC is a block away and the only street they need to cross has a giant crosswalk & lights
- I was walking 2 miles with my buddy Josh from our street to Deer Park in Aptos when we were 10 (a very different time, but still...)
- Sam & I have raised the kids on the concept that "snacks" means apple slices or granola bars, not donuts and Pringles
Skip ahead, to 2:15 AM, and I'm sitting on the kids' bedroom floor in my underwear, scrubbing Tyler's vomit out of the carpet while he goes back to sleep, and Kayleigh groans, "I will never eat junk food again."
It was a lesson learned the hard way, for both of them. And even as I sat scrubbing purple puke from cream-colored carpet in the wee hours, I got some perverse satisfaction that they were learning an important concept about health and moderation without me drilling it into their brains. It was the ultimate feeling of parental I Told You So without resorting to saying it aloud.
Of course, Tyler was absolutely impossible to drag out the door this morning, and ended up getting his games taken away for the second day in a row (and on the last day of school - bummer). Honestly, I don't know how someone can end up being so choosy about friggin' track pants.
Sigh. Apple slices and granola bars, anyone?
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