Just a dog-gone minute

I'm still trying to find time to do a legitimately meaty post about my fabulous weekend in Chicago. Here are the headlines: great trip, great food, great hotel and the most entertaining show I've ever seen.

But for now, just to give my dear readers some value-added content, I present a clip of the dog I am in another life:

A slice of things to come

As you might guess, this week's entries are going to be pretty-well dominated by the upcoming wonder-trip to Chicago. And since I do such a hit-and-miss job of blogging about big events after the fact, I figured I'd take a more pro-active approach with this trip and give you, dear reader, a preview of our itinerary.

We leave for Chicago Friday night. Once we're settled in at the Hilton, we're planning on getting what is areguable the best pizza in America: Giordano's. Up for debate: whether we walk (it's a little over half a mile from the hotel) or have it delivered. It will probably depend on the weather and how tired we are from the day.

In other news, Super Bowl weekend was a bit of a super dud, eh? I was hoping to win a little extra trip money playing Texas Hold 'Em, but it was not to be. And as for the game itself ... zzzz ...

More on the trip agenda tomorrow!

What a difference four days make

For those who read my rant on Monday, I sincerely apologize. I realize being a continuous inspiration is a serious respnsibility, and I was less than inspiring (and inspired) Monday.

That all changed last night, when I learned the lovely and talented Mrs. Z had won a sales contest at work. The prize? Two tickets to a Chcago performance of this little musical you may have heard of. (Hint: Look up.) And these tickets are in The Loge. Row B. Just off-center. Ho. Lee. Crap.

And if that isn't enough, the prizse package also included a two-night stay here. Oh, and all this is happening next weekend.

So if you care to find me, look to ... the ceiling, off of which I shall be continuously bouncing today.

I'm a Honda S2000!

You live on the edge, and you live for the adrenaline rush. You don't need luxuries, snob appeal, or superfluous gadgets. You put your top down, get your motor revving, and take all the curves that life throws at you at full speed. So what if you spin out occasionally?

And speaking of cars ...

This day has been a total wreck. Almost everything that could go wrong has gone wrong. And my frustrations, disappointments and aggravations have run the gamut from the trivial (one of my favorite Springfield restaurants closing down with no notice) to the merely annoying (a class full of new agents tromping by my cubicle all morning) to the genuinely sad (learning Mrs. Z and I can no longer communicate via e-mail during the day) to the disgustingly self-pitying (having one of those rare instances when I allow myself to dwell on how much it bites to be in a wheelchair).

Oh, and I was going to share a video clip to make good on my promise to explain what I was doing in a tux on New Year's Eve. Of course, that didn't work either. So here's why: I was singing at this event. Whoo-hoo. Just try to imagine the excitement.

In conclusion, I'd like to say, "Suck, suck, suck, suck, SUCK!"

Exit the petulant man-child.

Sunset epiphany

Yes, yes ... I know I promised the New Year's Eve story, and that will come. But first, I wanted to share one of those special moments that become a lasting snapshot in your memory.

The building pictured above is the Springfield Hilton, and it towers about a block away from my apartment. Most of the time, the structure is a monolith of gray stone and glass. But as I was rolling down the alley which leads to my apartment gate, I looked up at the Hilton and had my breath taken away.

You see, we've reached that point in the winter when night slowly gives back light to the day. While for most of December and January, nine-to-fivers are greeted with depressing darkness as they leave work, this is the time when sunset greets them instead.

Such was the case last night, and as I looked up in the alley, the Hilton was bathed in a golden light which gave the entire structure a warm, amber glow. And just as my mouth gaped open, a flock of birds swooped down into the alley and in front of the Hilton, completing the picture.

So remarkable was this split-second image that, at that moment, the birds could have turned my way and defecated on me en masse, and I wouldn't have cared.

Such is the momentary beauty that can make your day, if only you keep your eyes open.

Girls, girls ... you're both pretty

I’m about to post an entry that could result in not one, but two people never speaking to me again. Now that I have your attention …

The two people in question are both bloggers, and although I’ve never met either one of them personally, I have corresponded with both enough to call them friends. I follow their blogs closely, and for the most part, their writings are interesting and, quite frequently, compelling. I have no doubt that, given some proximity, I could become fairly close with both of them.

That said, these two bloggers have each devalued their blogs by ranting about each other within them. This has been going on intermittently for several months, by my count. And it appears to me to have roughly the maturity level of arguing over whose Hello Kitty screensaver is more awesome.

I have not attempted to do any detective work to determine who started it. I have no idea whose offenses are more egregious. Frankly, I don’t care. Don’t. Give. A. Shit. All I know is it’s tiresome, petty and a waste of bandwidth.

And so, at the risk of totally alienating the parties involved, I say: I’d love for you to be able to settle this like adults, but if you can’t, for all of our sakes, get over yourselves. Get over each other. Get on with life. Get back to the business of blogging.

Of course, you can write about whatever you want. But ask yourself … does anyone else want to read it?

End of sermon. Next up: why I wore a tux on New Year’s Eve.

The Downtown Dash

True to my word, herein starts the catch-up on my life in the period I fell off the blogging wagon.

Mrs. Z and I instituted a new tradition for Christmas this year.

The week before Christmas, we each made up a list of items we wanted or needed which could be obtained in downtown Springfield. We each made the list with the understanding that the other would not be able to get every item on the list, and if an item not appearing on the list struck the other’s fancy, he or she was free to add that to the haul.

On Christmas Eve, we started off with coffee here. For the record, the place does a wonderful quiche as well, but that’s not important right now. After coffee, we each took a pre-determined, modest amount of cash and set off in search of downtown treasures.

It was an exhilarating day of bargain hunting, and after we had ditched our individual loads in hiding places at home, we met here for lunch and to watch football. Unfortunately, the place was packed and even noisier than usual, so we headed home.

That night, we met Mom for dinner at Gallina’s Pizza. It was a nice, warm time marred only by the Case of the Missing Cat (I’ll blog on that another day). Soon, the missus and I headed home to listen to Christmas music, wrap our presents and drink hot chocolate with peppermint Schnapps.

We started out saying we would only unwrap a few presents that evening and save the rest for Christmas. But that fell by the wayside, and we ended up unwrapping all of our presents to each other as Christmas Eve turned into Christmas Morn. We marveled at how our choices showed how well we knew and loved each other.

As for the loot, here are a few highlights of what I got the missus:

• Three necklace charms by a local artist;
• A 1944 “Servicemen’s Family Album” printed by WLS-Chicago;
• A Duran Duran greatest hits collection;
• “Dante’s Peak” on DVD (she’s a sucker for disaster movies); and
• Chardonnay from the winery we visited during our magical Seattle vacation

And now, a few highlights of the treasure trove I received:

• A gorgeous (and lucky – more on that later) horseshoe ring;
• A Genesis greatest hits collection;
• The Sept. 18, 1972 issue of Sports Illustrated (notable both because it includes an NFL preview of the season which would turn out to be magical for the undefeated Miami Dolphins and three articles on the Munich Olympic tragedy);
• Some sweet cologne; and
• Volumes 1 and 2 of “Girls Gone Wild” on DVD.

We’ve got a groovy kind of love.

I haven't been eliminated

You're Vic Romano! You're almost always calm and
cool, but sometimes you'll get a little angry.

Which MXC Character are you?


Thanks to Mz. Ouiser for the link to this silly little quiz that gave me a great way to let you all know I haven't fled for Canada. Thanks to Maribou Sue and any other Web worry warts that had me lying in the proverbial ditch.

I had an incredibly busy and rich holiday season, and 2006 has been berry berry good to me so far. I'll try to catch you up, dear readers, in the next few days. Among topics to be covered:

1) A new tradition: the Christmas Downtown Dash
2) Why I wore a tux for New Year's Eve
3) My professional poker debut
4) How I was nearly kicked out of Hooter's

Chew on that for awhile, and I'll have an update soon.

O Canada!

I don't think the blogosphere is ready for my literal participation in Half Nekkid Thursdays (go here to see someone doing it right), so I offer this instead.

Canadian Supreme Court: Swinger's clubs and group sex are ok, eh!

Me thinks it's time for a road trip. Who's with me?!?

Four on the floor

It's the new hip thing! And you know how I like new hip things.

The 4's

FOUR JOBS YOU'VE HAD IN YOUR LIFE:
1. Senior Communications Consultant
2. Retention Specialist
3. Customer Service Representative
4. Library clerk

FOUR MOVIES YOU COULD (AND DO!) WATCH OVER AND OVER:
1. Close Encounters of the Third Kind
2. Clue
3. Team America: World Police
4. Bound

FOUR CITIES YOU'VE LIVED IN:
1. Springfield, IL
2. Kankakee, IL
3. Westminster, CA (Orange County before it was “The O.C.”)
4. Homestead, FL

FOUR TV SHOWS YOU LOVE TO WATCH:
1. Lost
2. 24
3. Amazing Race
4. Survivor

FOUR PLACES YOU'VE BEEN ON VACATION:
1. Seattle
2. NYC
3. Chicago
4. St. Thomas

FOUR WEBSITES YOU VISIT DAILY:
1. Finheaven & Co.
2. MSNBC
3. ESPN
4. The Internet Movie Database

FOUR OF YOUR FAVORITE FOODS:
1. BBQ
2. Donuts
3. Mom’s fried chicken
4. Rebexican

FOUR PLACES YOU'D RATHER BE RIGHT NOW:
1. At The Underground in Seattle
2. At Scores with an unlimited expense account
3. At the Golden Gate Bridge
4. In an arcade

Stuff my stocking or I'll steal your soul!

Greetings from Theater Armageddon! 

The show closed yeaterday, and I am so relieved.  With the exception of three First Night performances and two perfomances (more on these later), I'm done with theater for a while.  Got some me time and it feels so good ...

By the way, if you do happen to want to stuff my stocking, my Amazon Wish List is still in effect.

Speaking of new looks

It was time to give the old blog a facelift. So, stand in wonder!

Actually, my main motivation was to give myself something to do so that I wouldn't keep going for the mug o' chocolates I received this morning. Unfortunately, I learned I can screw around with my blog template and snarf chocolates at the same time. Damn my multitasking genius!

***

Tonight is the pickup rehearsal for GWB 2000. The director promised we'd be in and out in 90 minutes. "We'll see," I scoff. I'll certainly do my part. I'll be thinking less Prince of Darkness and more Mr. Spleen.

And then, it's three more shows. Ahhhhhh ...

Bald is beautiful

Here's my first head shot since going bald for George W. Bush 2000 (nee Theater Armageddon). The question now is: do I keep it like this after this weekend? Polls are open.

It’s the Belated Blog Birthday Bash

I realized earlier this week that it’s been a year and a week since I launched this blog. I just wanted to say thanks to old friends and new friends alike who have faithfully read and commented on my meanderings. And if one of my lovely readers wants to leap out of the cake, I certainly won't stop you!

And now, a Murray update. The good folks at Wheelchairs ‘R’ Us (not their real name, in case I want to bitch about their service later) did, in fact, have the right bearings. Murray just got out of surgery, and I’ll have my wheels back tonight.

‘Sinister with a comic touch’

So read the newspaper’s review of my performance in Theater Armageddon, which hereafter will be referred to as “George W. Bush 2000.” Where did I get such a whimsical name, you ask? Despite all odds, we triumphed, and I’m still not sure how — or even if we really did.

Perhaps most interestingly, the review featured this nugget: “The musical highlight of the evening, under the direction of Schmuckety Schmuck (name changed because I’m actually a nice guy), was an intricate a cappella section in "Songedy Song" (title also changed).”

Mr. Schmuck, faithful readers will remember, was the staff member who, after recruiting Mrs. Z and I to help round out the cast, dropped the show with three weeks to go before opening. The trio who sang the song lauded by the reviewer learned it on Tuesday of tech week.
This is what can happen when programs are printed far in advance.

So, GWB 2000 has wrapped up its opening weekend, and I’m in a state of contented bliss. This is in spite of the wheelchair trauma that I’m currently experiencing.

The trouble with Murray (yes, that’s his name) is this: on Saturday, as I was rolling to the sports bar across the street, I heard a disconcerting crunch, crunch emanating from my starboard fore. I looked down, and saw my front right tire wobbling in a similarly disconcerting manner. The problem is that I need some new ball bearings for the wheel (and probably for the left one as well, though it hasn’t started crunching yet).

I do have a backup chair to use, but whenever I have a wheelchair out of commission, I have a sense of vulnerability and anxiety I can’t adequately communicate to my able-bodied brethren. I hope to have it all sorted by this weekend, though getting the right bearings is proving to be a bit more of an ordeal than I had hoped.

And yet, it’s a dark Monday, and I have six hours of science fiction (the Sci-Fi Channel's

Santa, santa Kimita

Days until the Opening of Theater Armageddon: 3
Show Status: UPGRADED to “Barely Tolerable”

It wasn’t quite a Christmas miracle, but the show made a sizeable stride last night. First of all, we now have sound and light board operators. Admittedly, the sound board operator is the director, but just having those holes filled stabilized things.

Now, the really big news: we somehow managed to trim 30 minutes off the show’s running time. I can’t recall ever tightening a show that much from one rehearsal to the next. The cast finally took the director’s urging on pace to heart, and it paid dividends.

Tonight is our last rehearsal before opening on Friday. It amounts to a soft opening, as we’ll have several disabled guests in the house. I am particularly anxious to see what effect a real, live audience has on the cast’s energy, pace and offstage behavior (the kids have been a load).

The best thing that happened, last night, was this wonderful woman showing up after rehearsal like some Florence Nightingale of the boards. Knowing the hell we have been experiencing, she came with an right-pack of Icehouse, bottles of vodka and root beer (for Russian Beagles), pizza rolls, french-fried onions, Tostitos, Montery Jack queso and Dove chocolate chunk cookies. We laughed, drank and listened to show tunes until 1:30 in the morning.

After about the third time we had profusely thanked her, she said simply, “Y’all would do the same for me.” And that’s when the blessing folded in on itself, doubling in thickness. The fact we could have engendered such faith in our willingness to give at a moment’s notice gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling – a feeling that lasted through much of today. The exclamation point came in the form of a clear, cold, blindingly blue sky braced by bare trees whose branches twinkled when the sun hit the strings of Christmas lights they held.

It's confirmed: I'm a webhead

Your results:
You are Spider-Man

Spider-Man 90% Iron Man 60% The Flash 55% Superman 50% Supergirl 50% Wonder Woman 50% Green Lantern 50% Robin 35% Catwoman 35% Batman 25% Hulk 25%

You are intelligent, witty, a bit geeky and have great power and responsibility.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz...

At least my cave is impressive

Days until the Opening of Theater Armageddon: 7
Show Status: UPGRADED to “Bad”

Well thankfully, last night marked our last rehearsal singing along with the crappy CD during the musicals numbers because of not having an accompanist. The sets look nice, but they're difficult to move (and in fact, we had two set malfunctions last night). The props are coming together well.

We also finally had our lights set. Unfortunately, we still are without anyone to actually run the light board. Ditto the soundboard, which may be even more crucial, because the plan is to body mic several performers. That will require some finesse on the part of the sound operator. (The light board, by contrast, is programmable and could be run by a trained monkey.)

People are doing somewhat better on lines, and have started to show the ability to plow on even when there are problems. There's still some work to do here as well, however.

All in all, I'm entering tech week proper with a feeling of "eh."

Old hat

Sorry for the blog hiccup that appeared briefly in the last 24 hours. That's what happens when I try to do two entries in one day. Now, on to business.

Days until the Opening of Theater Armageddon: 7
Show Status: “Really Bad” and holding

Here's good news. Mrs. Z went rummaging through the car last night and found not the $1.39 stocking cap, but a groovy fleece hat I lost two winters ago. This baby warmes my Ming the Merciless 'do better than a stocking cap ever good. What a woman.

The Great Hilton Fire of '05 turned out to be nothing more than a lot of smoke caused by dryer lint. The party is on! That deserves an "Ooby Dooby Dooby!"



And speaking of drinking, Mrs. Z and I were greatly disappointed to learn we had not, as we suspected the other evening, concocted a new cocktail. Our root beer and vodka creation, which we dubbed the "Root Beer Barrel," alread has a name: a "Russian Beagle." There is nothing new under the bar.

Finally, a fascinating (if really dense) bit of reading that's making its way around the blogosphere. Seems there's a viable scientific theory explaining déjà vu. It makes perfect sense, but it's sad to demystify what had always been one of my favorite metaphysical phenomena.

Hello, December!

Days until the Opening of Theater Armageddon: 8
Show Status: UPGRADED from “Total Train Wreck” to “Really Bad”

7:50 a.m. — I’m on my way to work, and our first real snow of the winter has arrived. It’s falling slowly in big, downy, soft flakes. They’re the kind stage hands would start tossing from the catwalk at the end of “Wonderful Life: The Musical.”

This is the only snow I appreciate. It looks beautiful on cars and lawns, yet doesn’t make the sidewalks an impassable mess. What a nice way to start December.

Noon — I’m heading home for lunch. The snow is gone, and in its place is a ruthless, bitterly cold wind. And of course, I lost my priceless $1.39 stocking cap at the theater last night. And I’m bald. Shit.

1 p.m. — The wind has died down to almost nothing, so my ears don’t feel like they’re going to fall off. The day is back on track.

3:10 p.m. — Word comes that the basement of the downtown Hilton is on fire. I’m concerned for the possible loss of life and property, but really, I’m worried about how this will affect the office Christmas party.

3:30 p.m. — No casualties reported, but there was smoke damage. In the basement. Where the party was scheduled. Shit.

Oh well, at least my show’s on the fast track to mediocre, and we have our Friday free. Good times.