the one with a super bowl grudge match

February 1, 2015

It’s Super Bowl Sunday. Which means different things to different people.

Why did I go to the grocery store today! or
Man the grocery store sure is empty right now what’s going on? or
Commercials! or
FOOD! or
Katy Perry’s boobs (me because I really don’t want to root for either)

and the list could go on and on. Here at the Remick household it means it’s time for the historic-traditional-bi-tri-semi-annual-first time really Super Bowl grudge match between my cats and the wife. In it I have the wife use whatever scientific method she has to pick a winner. Next I write Patriots/Seahawks on pieces of paper. I throw the papers down in front of each cat and see which they pick.


Tensions have been running high. There’s already been two brawls and a soliciting a prostitute arrest(no names!)

It’s katsleep     VS   csonkatongue VS      RASPEYES


wifebot: Seattle
Csonka: Seattle
Rasputin: Patriots.

Things I was asked last week Volume I

September 16, 2013

I get asked all sorts of things. Questions about art aren’t the only thing visitors have. Mondays seem like a good day to post the ones from the week before. In other words I’m too lazy to do a real post.

These first three all happened on the same night (and if you follow me on twitter you feel pretty cheated).

Who cleans the glass?

This was actually asked by several people. Two middle aged men were especially interested in it. One of the dudes followed it up with “it must be some talented granny.”

 Is Buddhism a race or religion?

This was asked to settle an argument between a couple as they wandered through the Japanese and Korean art. The male in the pairing thought it was a race. She called him stupid many a time.

So you work with a lot of hot chicks huh?

I’m not sure what prompted this because there were only guys in the area I was working. The dude also seemed really high.

Bite your nails?

This came complete with a mock biting of her nails. It was an older lady who apparently thought my job should cause me to bite my nails.

Do you have a lot of hospital bills?

A coworker needing an answer about a bill he received.

Being pregnant doesn’t get me any leeway?

A pregnant lady after I told her photography wasn’t permitted in the contemporary galleries.

So they just like break eggs on/rub them on paintings?

Dude curious about Tempera.

Where are the grits?

This actually happened at the grocery store. An older couple apparently thought I looked like I knew where the grits would be. I showed them even though they had been in the aisle twice already. This gave me flash backs to working at a grocery store.



the one with garlic

September 9, 2013

There are many important things that are being discussed today. There are all sorts of topics to discuss like Jobs (still!!?), Fracking (bow chikka bow wow) and just what should we do about Syria?

Today I’d like to discuss something that’s very important.


More specifically the Cleveland Garlic Festival. What is the Cleveland Garlic Festival you ask? From their own website:

Funds from the Cleveland Garlic Festival allow North Union Farmers’ Market to operate markets weekly throughout the year in Greater Cleveland. We administer and expand our educational and charitable market programs, which continue to be very important complements to our market season (Food Stamp enhanced purchases/EBT-SNAP, Music at the Market, Chef at the Market, Mighty Locavores K-2 educational programming in Cleveland Municipal School District and much more). With the help of 150 loyal farmers and producers, North Union Farmers Market will bring fresh, local, healthy food to more than 275,000+ customers this year.

That is the basic reasons and good stuff that come from it. I’d call it a celebration of the yummy deliciousness that is garlic. We love garlic and put it in almost everything we make. We tried to go once before but for whatever reason we let it slip by. This year it seemed like that would happen again. We had other plans Saturday and of course like always I would be working on Sunday. Then I came across a post on Bite Buff giving away tickets. I gave it a whirl mostly because all you needed to do was post one comment.

Easy peasy is my style!

Spoiler alert: I won.

I’d like to thank the academy…

So we juggled things around to make sure we could go.


That picture doesn’t have anything to do with the garlic festival but was cool. It was near where we parked.

Our first stop was @ChillPopShop for some delicious ice pops. We opted for the Agave and Garlic one because when in Rome you choose garlic. Wait…


We weaved our way through the many Many vendors. We stopped to be shown how to plant our own garlic. They even gave us the garlic and plantable pot.


Straight from there we went over to a raffle by Meyer Hatchery. It was a raffle giving away a chicken coop and two chickens. We’d been talking about getting chickens for a while and Kat is really excited to. I dropped a dollar in for the raffle and we went away hopeful.


We ran into @AllLacqueredUp  @EatDrinkClev and @BiteBuff and chatted it up for a bit—mostly about the possibility of chickens. Always nice to run into twitter peeps but we had to make our way to the Mason’s Creamery spot for some ice cream. If you’ve not tried them you simply have to. They are some of the nicest people and their ice cream is heavenly. We had a scoop of Earl Grey and a scoop of butterscotch.

They are rapidly becoming my favorite way to spend money in Cleveland!

I was too busy trying all the various garlic centric things to take pictures but there were awesome oils, jellies, hot sauces there. Later over dinner we mentioned the Festival to the wifebot’s dad and stepmom. We even mentioned the chicken raffle. They decided to head on over to the fest. While there they put in for the raffle and long story short we are now the owners of a chicken mansion and two chickens.

Say whaaaaat?

Good times and thanks to Katrina at Bitebuff!

What is going on with the sky in this picture?


the one where I’m a john

July 16, 2013

So I’ve been busy. I have been writing and enjoyed good news. I probably should have shared it here earlier. I mean what is the point of having this blog if you don’t share good news when it comes?

The good news?

A play I wrote was selected for a 10 minute play festival.

The better news?

The wifebot is the director.

The bad news?

Well unless you happened to see it over the previous three weeks then you won’t be seeing it. That’s right; it’s come and gone before I ever said anything about it here. I’ve made a list of Cleveland themed writing goals, and this production helped me check one off of the list. The play was part of the 10×10 festival held in The River Street Theatre through Chagrin Valley Little Theatre. If you ever get a chance, check it out because they’re an awesome bunch.

I suppose at this point it’ll be best to mention what would probably be the real bad news. The festival and my play got totally reamed by a reviewer. This of course comes with the territory as a writer. I can easily shrug it off—not that I was hoping for a bad review—but I do deal with a ton of rejection. The reviewer called my play a “tedious affair.”


(note: as I started to write this post in my head but didn’t write till now I’ve forgotten some bit about crying myself to sleep. It was funny I assure you.)

Or rather he thought John Remick’s play was a tedious affair. I feel bad for this John guy. That’s right; he got my name wrong in the review. Now at first I laughed this off as probably a good thing, but the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me.

I mean if you’re going to call someone’s hard work tedious at least get their name right.


Which is what I posted and he responded “yes, that is preferred.”


A great time was had. I enjoyed the production. I wish I had more of a chance to work with the wifebot but that will come. The actors were awesome, and everyone had a good time. That is all that matters. Six of my coworkers even made it to see the show.

In the end, I was thrilled to see my play on stage and lucky enough to have help staying grounded by the terrible review.


Or at least John Remick was.

The one with fingers

April 22, 2013

So I’ve been busy. I mean REAL busy. Okay, check that…just regular busy in case some of you are paying attention. God, you all are some Checky McCheckersons, aren’t you?

There has been:

More hours at work.
Finishing a 10 minute script for a play festival.
Working on my poetry manuscript.
Trying to find a publishing home for said script.
Reading script submissions.
Working on things around the house.
Being a man about town.

I know…excuses, excuses. You all are some Judgy McJudgersons, too. You don’t wanna read about why I’ve been too busy. You want to hear about the time I peed on my cookie? Too bad you’ll have to wait till TMI Thursday for that.

Instead I’ll give you another glimpse into the weirdness that is Jimi. At work (and everywhere really), I tend to have little games to keep me from going crazy.

Fine, crazier. Jerks.

Games  like the Force Field one.

This game usually takes place in the long hallways in the bowels of the museum. Throughout these halls are all manner of things. There are various tables waiting to go to or from storage, cases from the galleries and containers to ship the art. As I walk down these halls, I tend to pretend my fingers are a man—pointer and middle fingers are the legs. The upper body is all imagined—just go with it—and I make this finger-legged person walk across these various surfaces.

Then as these people get closer to the edge, they begin to run. Yes, they RUN toward the edge and certain doom. These finger-legged people are always suicidal. They willingly jump to their death—only mid leap, they regret it.

No, I don’t do their voices…that would be weird.

Okay fine, I do their voices.

 “I’m going to end it all!” (jump) “Oh, nooooo! What have I done? I want to live.”

They don’t live. On occasion they make it to the next table or container. Once more they run and jump. Again they wish they hadn’t but to no avail.

What could make this worse? The answer is a coworker catching me.

What could make that worse? Surely not me explaining what it is I was doing.

Yep. I explained it to them. They listened in what could only be described as a paralysis based on fear. 

the one with hope (sort of)

January 21, 2013

Today we celebrate the life and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I’ll be honoring him by doing what he was fighting for all those years ago: telling more than a few of thousands of people who will be at the museum where the bathroom is.


The museums around Cleveland are open and this is greatly taken advantage of. There were a ton of people last year. Unless the potential snow chases people off it’ll be more of the same this year.

Some highlights (or maybe lowlights) from last year:

Someone tried to smell one of the pieces.
A twenty something tried to grope Aphrodite’s boobs.
About 20 bajillion kids tried to sit on/climb the griffins.
(I walk into gallery where the griffins are. A mother is with her kid and doesn’t see me. She motions for them to get on it.)
mom: get on it. Quick for a picture. (She sees me.) No I said not to touch it just get next to it.
Visitor said: “what kind of museum don’t let you touch things”

 We’ll see what this year brings.

To close things out here is a piece from Maya Angelou’s poem “Abundant Hope”


Reverend Martin Luther King

The great soul

Flew from the Creator

Bearing manna of hope

For his country

Starving severely from an absence of compassion.


Martin Luther King

The Great Spirit

Came from the Creator

Proffering a sparkling fountain of fair play

To his country

Parched and deformed by hate.

The whole man came forth

With a brain of gentle wisdom

To persuade quiet

Upon the loud misery of the mob.

A whole man stood out

With a mellifluous voice

To bind the joints of cruelty.

A whole man came

In the midst of a murderous nightmare

Surrounded by demons of war

He dared to dream peace and serenity.

With a heart of faith

He hoped

To resurrect his nation.


I open my mouth to the Lord,

And I won’t turn back.

Martin Luther King

Faced the racial

Mountain of segregation and

And bade it move.

The giant mound of human ignorance

Centuries old

And rigid in its determination

Did move, however slightly, however infinitesimally,

It did move.

I will go, I shall go

I’ll see what the end will be.

Enjoy your day and be kind to one another!

another week in pictures

April 23, 2012

Are these all I really do now? I’ve been really bad about the writing part. At least the pictures are fun and there are some stories in the cooker. I should probably stop trying to cook them because they taste like crap.

(Rim shot)

I do have some post to share and hope to get those out. Until then pictures!

1. Me in the break room after I attempted to write. There were some loud annoying people in there breaking my spirit.
2.  Admiral Ackbar at the “speed art(net)working” event. His pitch? “It’s a trap!”
3. Admiral Ackbar carrying an injured Stiller #2 (I may have to post all about Stiller.)
4. Me next to Calder’s Stegosaurus outside The Toledo Museum of Art
5. Next to Pinkerton by Jun Kaneko at The Toledo Museum of Art Glass Pavilion
6. Outside (with Hipstamtic) of The Toledo Museum of Art

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