last week in pictures

April 11, 2012

last  week was a pretty good time.

1. my current reading stack: Speaking with the Angel, Stealing Rembrandts, The Subterraneans (rereading), Breakfast of Champions (rereading), Crisis on Infinite Earths, American Gothic: Sixty years of horror cinema

2.  Finally fixed these glasses.

3.  Easter tie: Thrift Store find!

4.  B.J. Whitmer after his brutal street fight match for Absolute Intense Wrestling

5.  A bloody B.J. Whitmer.

6.  Tim Donst after he put someone else through that table


the one with blood and people in shopping carts

August 3, 2010

Another weekend comes to an end and it’s time to get back to the grind of the work week.

Haha. Sorry I had to do it. I hope your work week in general isn’t too bad.

My grind continues to consist of making sure that I’ve applied to at least 2 places. This is usually what Monday is. I make sure to find at least 2 jobs to apply for. I continue looking during the week but Monday is the at least 2 for that week day.

I’m sure you all are very happy to have learned that information.

Anyunemployment the weekend was a fun one. It started on Friday (as they often do) with a trip to the Grog Shop. We were going to support a friend’s brother’s band. The band is Mos scocious who apparently was voted best local band in Chicago. I only had to hear this fact about 600 times from various sources. Whatev. They were good. A little too feel goody for my usual taste but they were fun.

They were good to listen to and pretty catchy. They also had a decent stage presence which is something that some of the bands sorely lack. I was very happy to go because it had been way too long since I’d been to the Grog. The wife and been recently but not me. I miss it and this summer is a long way from the summer of the Grog we had with the rizza a few years back. So it’s been a while.

There was a new girl and the jack and ginger she made me was well it was very weak. As we chatted and drank Marty came over to see if we needed anything. The wifey told him no but I said “order me another I’m going to chug this.” He laughed and started to make one. I told him it was because she made it rather weak, he laughed again and made it nice and strong. Which of course meant the new drink was way STRONG. Yeah! Actually the bartenders at the Grog are some of the best in town.

Anywhiskey the opening act played to maybe15 people. Most of these were at the bar and most of them didn’t pay attention to the opener. It was just one man, and he was rapping. He wasn’t too bad. I feel bad because I forget (and lost the note I wrote it on) his name. His rhymes were not too bad. Even if one ended with:

“I’m so large I’ll stretch your womb.”

I meant to tell him I dug his stuff and see if he had a twitter or Facebook but after he disappeared into the backroom I never saw him again. Before the show we went over to the doghouse for some hot dogs, because the wifey napped/read until it was time to hit the show. It was tasty as always. It was good to sit outside on Coventry and eat. People watching at its finest—though unfortunately didn’t get any good Overheard Conversation bits.

Did I just start in the middle of the night and then travel backwards? What is this Memento?

Saturday was a day of two halves. I woke up at about 10am to find no paper. Now this is most likely due to the bank taking forever to give the plain dealer their money. After some coffee the wife and I sat down to address her dying computer. We were on the phone for like 3 crazy hours with Dell but all in all it finally got taken care of. It really doesn’t deserve that much of a space as the fun things.

Later that day we headed over to the Cleveland Cinematheque for the next installment of The Marx Brothers. This week it was Horse Feathers. This fine film came out in 1932.

Funny as the Marx Brothers always are. The wife enjoyed it—and I’m hoping this new found enjoyment changes her opinion of Duck Soup. Lindsay, the wife and I then went to Cafe Tandoor for some dinner. It was delish. The wife and I shared the Butter Chicken, Baingan Bartha and some garlic naan. The time was filled with laughter and that is always good. The wifey I spent the rest of the night in watching some tv and doing some reading. I was in sort of a somber mood but nothing major. We ended up staying up till like 4 in the morning.

Sunday the big day was here. My lovely Kat and I were headed to the Nautica Pavilion for PWO Wrestlelution 3 event. Yeah we went to watch some wrestling. Can you guess who the one who wanted to was? I gave her the option of just dropping me off but she declined. So onward we went. The event started at 3pm and doors opened at 2. We arrived at exactly 2 because being poor I only bought general admission tickets.

It was sit where you can and we scoped out some decent seats. You could see well from pretty much anywhere. We sat and chatted and what not. When Raven walked past us and took a seat at the merch table. There was simply no way I could pass up seeing my all time fav (and greatest heel of all time) Raven and so we headed over. As we waited in line Hacksaw Jim Duggan approached to much fanfare. Now as wrestlers go he’s not my fav or all that amazing of one either, but I grew up watching him. As people said “hey” shook his hand or said “hoooo” (he’s known for belting out hooooo) I tried to stay my ground. I told my wife I was trying to keep my cool and not mark out or get all excited just because of childhood nostalgia. The wife egged me on because she was concerned I’d regret it. Regret will be a topic of a post soon, but not today because I was doing things not regretting them for a change. I calmly shook his hand and said Hi. That was all that was needed. I was in line for the one I needed to meet and chat with: RAVEN!

Raven:

Greatest heel of all time Raven

Raven and Hacksaw Jim Duggan:

Raven and Hacksaw Jim Duggan

And then me trying to keep my cool later on.

Photobucket

It was awesome. I got to meet him and talk for just a bit (read about 3 sentences from me and 3 from him) but it was enough. I tried my best not to totally bumble and blather. The event went for about 3 and half hours. By the end the wifey was sort of cranky because she was hungry and tired. But she sort of enjoyed and I know she did. During the main event M-Dogg 20 v Johnny Gargano for the PWO Title, the two tore the place up (literally). They went all over the stands floor and ring. It was a great match and there were several times kat said this:

“No no no. What are they crazy?”

Here are some pictures:

Krimson:

Krimson

Jason Bane threw Raven into a shopping cart:

Bane throws Raven into a shopping cart

Johnny Gargano flips onto M-Dogg 20 Matt Cross:

Johnny Gargano trying to kill M-Dogg 20, himself or both

Johnny Gargano dragging Matt Cross through the crowd:

Photobucket

We went from here to a nice dinner at Mi Pueblo and then a quiet night at home.

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I feel Rambo’s pain

April 16, 2010

Going out of my way to do (social) things and take advantage of opportunities on my own experiment #2

Event: Paul Muldoon Poetry reading.
Where: John Carroll University
When: 7:30pm

Obstacle: You may or may not know this but I’ve got like 5 (1 being my wife) actual friends. So the problem went like this. 1 of them never heard of Paul Muldoon and was busy. The one who knew who Paul Muldoon was couldn’t make it. The wife had class and well the other two—I wouldn’t even ask because they’d just laugh and laugh like stoned hyenas. cute little friends* So I had to go it alone.

To save time I had the wife drop me off down at the campus. What? It made things easier—I’d have to take 2 buses to get down there and I’d rather not. So she dropped me off but it was of course about 2 hours early. So I sat outside the University in the sun to read. It was nice out and there was sort of a breeze. I pulled out first a book of his poetry and then after the first person interrupted me to talk boring shit I switched to On the Road.

It was weird. There were way too many children there for whatever reason. Also dogs—one of which was being carried in a girls book bag. So as I sit there a dude comes up on his phone and this happens:

Dude: Hey is your name Steve?
Me: Yeah.
Dude (to phone): Hold on a sec. (to Steve): Yeah? We had Mr. So and so (not actual professor name) in such and such class (don’t remember that either)?
Steve: Totally.
Dude: You remember his hair? Big and like—
Steve: It was crazy.
Dude: Well I gotta run but see you around…
Steve: (goes back to reading)

That interaction was sort of fun but I guess it was wrong too, because it opened the flood gates. I guess that was karma? I dunno. The thing was from that point on little kids would talk to me for no reason and other people would too. I kept getting weird looks like nobody ever sat outside and read. So when I heard the statement “good choice in reading” I was ready to be not again! I somehow didn’t register the Irish accent until I looked up to see Paul Muldoon. Yeah! I got to talk to one of my favorite poets about the beat poets and etc for a few minutes! Double yeah.

Anypoet I tired of sitting because that’s really all I do these days. I decided to take a little walk, accept I really just sort of wandered around in front of the business down the block. I was writing some notes on some poems I was working as I did. When I passed a bunch of these older couples they all sorta stared at me and seemed bothered by me. I took up residence near a no loitering sign because of this. After a few more minutes of reading and some looks one of the people went into the business establishment. About a minute after the customer came back (not that I know they asked the guy to but it was a neat coincidence) to the table an older dude wearing an apron came out and:

Guy in apron: “Time to move on?”
Me: What?
Apron fucker: Did you need anything? I saw you walking back and forth?
Me: I’m just waiting for something to start at the school.
Apron Fucker: Oh well if you need some help or something.

What the hell did I walk into Rambo remake (albeit a lame whimpy one where he is a poet) or something? I was waiting for Brian Dennehy to offer to give me a ride outta town. I must say I was pretty menacing with my Star Wars messenger bag and my tye dye Lake Eerie Monsters tee. Then hilariously as I walked back toward the campus I’m pretty sure a student driving off yelled “hippie” at me.

Anystallone I get back in and find it starts at 7:30 and not 7pm. Oh well. I read and listen to people talk until I see my arch nemesis former professor. I did well to overcome this obstacle and avoid her for the entirety of the reading.

Was that the last obstacle of the night? No. The next one was sitting through the young guy making sure the lights and mic worked. He felt the need to discuss everything from dreams to poetry to comedy. He thought he was funny (and I suspect desperately hoped he was) but he was not. He offered to speak in an Irish accent (Muldoon is Irish) and then proceeded to use the worst one almost ever. Then he went into an old Billy Crystal sketch. I still don’t know why. He was painful to watch. I bet he drinks his breakfast and will soon eat the barrel of a shotgun.

Damn that was harsh.

Finally the poet was in front of the room. He graciously read for about 50 minutes and was wonderful. Hearing the motivation behind the poems was great. After the reading he hung around and signed books and just chatted with you. I got to talk to him for about 10 minutes. It was pretty awesome.

The verdict: A major success. I mean sure it got a little odd there and I had some weirdo yell at me on the bus for telling him I didn’t go to John Carroll. He was all “whhhhhaaaaaat whaddaya mean. The nerve of some people!” but I suppose that was fun too.

*Stems from an incident in which I tried to share a poem that meant a lot to me (and really hit home) from one of my favorite poets. Paul Muldoon. The only problem was that the two silly laughing twins wouldn’t let me get past Paul Muldoon, without laughing. I of course made the mistake of continuing to try and read the poem and of course they found this funnier and funnier. It wasn’t helped by the fact that they thought his name was Robert and I tried to tell them they were wrong but they wouldn’t believe me. Now when they remember I have to sit through calls or tweets of Roberrrrrrrt.


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