Midnight Snack

Ever since turning 30, I get up at least a couple times in the middle of the night. In most cases, I'm at least a tad hungry, so after going to the bathroom, I hit the refrigerator for a snack or two (I've noticed that it's easier for me to get to sleep if I have a reasonable amount of food being digested). But where to eat it? I'm not big on eating at the kitchen table and don't really like ingesting food while in front of the telly.

I hit upon the idea of eating on the floor of the bathroom at least five years ago. While sitting cross-legged on the floor mat next to the sink, I peruse EntertainMeWeakly



(check it: the cast of Seinfeld is reuniting this fall on HBO's "Curb Your Enthusiasm")

or Snoozeweek as I eat a NutriGrain bar (or an Oreo Cakester if I'm jonesing for some chocolate). On other evenings, I'll microwave some Pillsbury homestyle pancakes and make sure to put plenty of syrup on them.

I sometimes even eat my dinner in there; the white noise offered by the bathroom fan is a nice reprieve from the TV blaring as my wife watches stuff like Nancy Grace and "Fried Green Tomatoes". The bright lights given off by the vanity also make it much easier for me to read.

Eleven Years Ago Today

On August 23rd, 1998, I woke up by myself at the Ramada hotel in Mount Prospect, Illinois. Today was the big day. I took a long shower and shaved. I got dressed in regular clothes and headed next door to the Bristol Court banquet hall. There weren't too many people there yet.

I went to the men's dressing room. My best man, Phil, was there. I changed into a zoot suit. The other men in my party arrived soon after. I took a stroll around the banquet hall. Everything appeared to be in order. I was called over to do pictures with my about-to-be in-laws. Next, I met the rabbi (I'm not Jewish, but my wife-to-be was. Don't worry. Even though I'm not Jewish, I've been cut) who asked me to sign a wedding contract called a katuba. I didn't see her, but could hear my beloved talking from the top of the stairs (Is that bad luck?)

At 11am, it was time for the ceremony to start. I was quite nervous, but there was no turning back now. I went to my designated spot under the Jewish hupa and waited for my bride. Her parents walked her down the aisle. They had forgotten to put her veil down, however. Oh well. The rabbi gave a short talk about love, life and God. My love and I recited some Hebrew, exchanged rings, and drank wine. At the end, I was asked to smash a glass (actually a light bulb) with my foot (famous Jewish tradition). I did so and everyone said, "Mazel Tov". We then kissed (but not for too long, since her dad was just 3 feet away) and I felt mighty relieved that the most difficult part was over.

We did a meet and greet with everyone who had come (about 150 or so). Both my parents were there and 3 of my 4 siblings (the 4th one was having "issues" at the time). Many more pictures were taken by the wedding photographer.



After a while, the guests went to their seats. The entire wedding party was introduced by the DJ providing music for us. Dori and I were given a standing ovation, which was surreal, but cool. We sat down and proceeded to chow down, but not until after a few toasts. The food (caesar salad, chicken, etc) was quite good. Dori and I then proceeded to visit with our guests.



Then the dancing started. Our first dance was the Jim Brickman-Martina McBride love song, "Valentine". Next, the bridal party came out and then it was an all-skate, I mean, an all-dance. They were playing a lot of fast Jock Jams-like songs, but I just couldn't loosen up enough to really get down like some of the people there.

The music stopped right around 4pm and, like that, our wedding was complete. Me and my girl went to our respective dressing rooms and changed into civilian clothes. The girls in the bridal party suggested that everyone in the wedding party go out to eat someplace close for supper. Wendy's was right across the street, so the ten of us headed over there and had a good meal. The bridal party still wanted to have fun, so suggested a movie. They decided on "There's Something About Mary". We had seen it a week before (even back then, I was a movie freak), so didn't go along. We found out later that everyone loved the movie (it was quite good).

We then headed to my newly- christened wife's parents' house to do some laundry. We visited with them for a while, then headed to the honeymoon suite at the Ramada. Something was wrong with the bath, so we had to call for someone to fix it. The suite was nice. It had leather furniture which was quite sweet. We opened our wedding presents which, per Jewish tradition, consisted almost entirely of cash (!). After you-know-what, we went to sleep. The next morning, it was off to the Milwaukee airport and from there, a honeymoon in sunny Orlando, Florida.

Wiping is so 20th Century

Toilet paper, such a waste (and not even very effective).

Check out this article from Newsweek:

Deep down, Americans have always known that wiping their rears with dry paper is ineffective; a classic survey showed that half of TP users spend their days with "fecal contamination" in their underpants. And yet we continue to mock the bidet, the Frenchest of innovations, as froufrou, risqué, de trop. But while personal hygiene is one thing, the future of the planet is another. The average American uses 57 sheets of toilet paper a day; collectively, we burn through 36.5 billion rolls each year. Tossing all the TP in America would save 15 million trees, 17.3 terawatts of electricity, and more than 473 billion gallons of water annually; the environmental impact of bidets is minimal in comparison. No wonder the Japanese bidet behemoth Toto is gearing up for a massive sales push in the States. When it's hip to be green, ditching the Charmin could actually make a difference. And not only in our (dirty) drawers.

Summer Movies

I've been to four different movies over the past ten days. A week and a half ago, I saw "A Perfect Getaway", a thriller whose main point of interest is a doozy of a twist.

Going in, I didn't know what it was, but it's always cool trying to figure out what it is ahead of time. I wasn't able to do so in this case (I rarely do), but that didn't keep me from having a good time with it. The film took place entirely in Hawaii which made it awfully easy on the eyes (Milla Jovovich also helped greatly in this regard).

A few days later, I finally caught up with the 6th Harry Potter movie. Though there was hardly any action to be found, the characters and the struggles they faced held my interest throughout. Not something I'd wanna revisit, however, and like all previous installments, a very pale imitation of the far superior "Lord of the Rings" films.

On Saturday, I went to "District 9", a very highly praised sci-fi movie from a new director. Made for a paltry $30 million (crap like Transformers costs over $150 million), this movie had it all.

It started as a documentary about aliens trying to fit in with humans in South Africa before turning into a full-force action pic. I usually don't root for characters much in action films, but the ones in this movie really had my sympathies. A number of moments had me on the verge of cheering. Very stirring film and the number one movie of last weekend.

Yesterday, I caught "(500) Days of Summer".

As I went up to the cashier, I said, "I'll take one to "Days of Thunder". The guy asked me to repeat what I said and I did. A moment later, he gave me a tic to "Summer". I wonder if he went up to one of his coworkers later and told them about the yutz he encountered in the early afternoon.

"(500)" looks to be a love story, but the narrator states early on that this is not the case. The film had a number of laughs, but was even better at showing what it feels like to be in the "honeymoon" phase of a relationship, just not necessarily a relationship that is gonna end up with wedding bells. This is something that most rom-coms just don't get. Both leads were fantastic and the non-linear form that the film followed made for a more interesting experience than if it had followed a more traditional path.

One thing I noticed after seeing "Summer" was the high it had me on. Walking around the lake afterward, it was extremely palpable and I was reminded why it is that I love movies so much.

Here are my grades for the four: "A Perfect Getaway" (B+), "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" (B), "District 9" (A), "(500) Days of Summer" (A-)

God's Pizza

Later this afternoon, I'll be going to my favorite pizza place in town, Godfather's Pizza (I wrote about my somewhat-criminal early 90's actions there here).



The only time I go there is when they have their twice-weekly buffet. I typically arrive just before it starts (at 5), find a seat, get a pop, and make sure there is plenty of parmesan cheese at my table. I pretty much always eat the exact same thing: five slices of thin-crust pepperoni pizza and a few dessert sticks.

You might ask how I get away with taking five pieces of the same type of pizza off the buffet. Well, if there's no one nearby, there's no problem; I just go for it. If someone is behind me, I'll take two or three slices off the buffet, put the plate on my table, and then immediately go back up there to get two or three more.

Once seated in a booth, I move the table really close to me so that I don't need to lean forward to eat. If no one wishes to accompany me, I bring along an ish of TIME or Entertainment Weekly. It was while reading articles there that I first learned about two of my favorite TV shows: "Prison Break" and "Entourage". One time, when writing a check for the buffet, I wrote it out to "God's Pizza". My wife, seeing this, said, "Can you do that?"

At 5:15, I leave the restaurant quite satiated and rarin' to play with pup for a while in the backyard to burn off some of the pizza-powered energy.

Whoa, Nelly

Fascinating article in TIME magazine last week about exercise and how it won't make you thin.



Some choice bits:

"The basic problem is that while it's true that exercise burns calories and that you must burn calories to lose weight, exercise has another effect: it can stimulate hunger. That causes us to eat more, which in turn can negate the weight-loss benefits we just accrued. Exercise, in other words, isn't necessarily helping us lose weight. It may even be making it harder.

After we exercise, we often crave sugary calories like those in muffins or in "sports" drinks like Gatorade. A standard 20-oz. bottle of Gatorade contains 130 calories. If you're hot and thirsty after a 20-minute run in summer heat, it's easy to guzzle that bottle in 20 seconds, in which case the caloric expenditure and the caloric intake are probably a wash. From a weight-loss perspective, you would have been better off sitting on the sofa knitting.

Could pushing people to exercise more actually be contributing to our obesity problem? In some respects, yes. Because exercise depletes not just the body's muscles but the brain's self-control "muscle" as well, many of us will feel greater entitlement to eat a bag of chips during that lazy time after we get back from the gym.

This explains why exercise could make you heavier — or at least why even my wretched four hours of exercise a week aren't eliminating all my fat. It's likely that I am more sedentary during my nonexercise hours than I would be if I didn't exercise with such Puritan fury. If I exercised less, I might feel like walking more instead of hopping into a cab; I might have enough energy to shop for food, cook and then clean instead of ordering a satisfyingly greasy burrito."

This time last year, I was hitting the treadmill like a madman, walking an hour every two to three days. Though it felt good, I can't say it did much to help me lose weight. If I'd eaten a bit less, I'm sure I would've had more favorable results, but fact is, I'm at a healthy weight and if anything, should work more on reducing saturated fat from my diet.

Over the past few months, I've been getting about 10 to 15 minutes of exercise each day (nothing strenuous), eat about the same amount of food, and have maintained my weight for the most part. I'm more than cool with this. Though the treadmill just sits, unused, it makes an awfully good coat rack.

Fly Away

We've had a number of flies come into the house this summer due to leaving the garage door slightly ajar from time to time so that Zoe can come and go as she pleases. I have a very unusual strategy when it comes to dealing with them. Before I get into that, though, I have to note that flies in the house seem to bother the dog much more than the cat.

The dog will jump in the air to try to catch them and sometimes chases them from room to room. She actually caught one yesterday and was eating it (something that cats tend to do). The cat will chase moths in the garage, but doesn't appear to have much interest in flies (she did when she was younger).

When I encounter flies, I take a paper towel and try to capture them within it. Once I am able to do so, which can take some time, I open the deck door and let them fly away. Sometimes (though not too often), I'll clip a bit of their wing when I envelope them, but that's certainly better than what would happen if they'd wandered into virtually any other house in the neighborhood. My wife will sometimes get frustrated at my strategy saying things like, "Just kill it", but it's quite obvious to me that the fly just wants to be free; if a little extra effort can ensure this, it's a win-win.

The Climb

Doesn't It Just Break Your Heart?

For more pics of animals in casts, go here.

Tone-Loc or Tone-Deaf?

Video I taped of my brothers 20 years ago

8.5 Hours a Day

While reading the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly, I came across a column by Stephen King in which he mentioned a recently released study that says adults spend an average of 8.5 hours a day in front of various screens (television, computer, mobile devices).

This got me to thinking, what's the point of having a body if all you're gonna with it is sit in front of a screen? Such a sedentary activity. I admit to spending a lot of time on the internet and as the years go by, it becomes more difficult to remember what we did before this. As a child, I read books, but the net trumps this (I can read absolutely anything I want without having to turn a page and if something is boring, I can just move on to another website).

I believe that we are here to experience things, however, and staying home talking to others on Facebook may seem like a semi-social activity, but it's a poor substitute for face-to-face time. By the way, what is with these wusses on Facebook who have one of their children as their profile pic? Is it because they feel that they are grotesque-looking (or fat)? What of those who have a pic of two people (themselves and another) as their FB pic?

In heaven, are we also going to spend all our time in front of screens? Or will we actually get to live life as it was meant to be; with a plethora of members of the opposite sex who find us Dead Sexy and can't wait to get busy. But wait, why would we need genitals in the afterlife? Does God have genitals? Is that why he's referred to as a He? And if so, what in the hell does He do with them?

Doggie Style

It's (virtually) always a treat going to the local dog park; seeing how your dog interacts with the others, enjoying the sunshine with like-minded animal lovers, and trying not to stare at the better-looking bitches. The below video was taken in the spring of 2005 when Zoe was just under a year old:

Mystery Solved

I've wondered for years why restaurants serve such large portions, but was finally given a satisfactory answer last night:

"One of the things that has long occurred to me about restaurant dining is that, because every customer must be served the same portion size, they’re naturally going to provide huge amounts of food. If you serve a 275 pound man an amount of food that would be appropriate for a 125 pound woman, he’s going to still be hungry at the end of his meal and therefore a dissatisfied customer. Because the marginal cost of additional food (especially pasta, potatoes, and the like) is negligible, it’s just good business to pile it on. Naturally, everyone else will be given too much to eat and all but the most disciplined will overeat."

"Two obvious ways health conscious diners can adjust are to resolve to take half the food home with them — better yet, get a “doggy bag” before starting eating and divide it right away — or to share food."

I order chicken fingers most of the time at Friday's; they always come with five fingers. The first thing I do when they're served is put two aside to give Zoe over the next few days as a treat.

Life, Love, and All That Jazz

A cousin of mine who's in his early 30's was diagnosed with cancer this past spring. He went through radiation therapy, chemo, everything the doctors recommended. He has quite a sizable circle of family and friends who have been praying for him these past few months. So it was with much optimism that he had a scan done last week that would tell if his treatment was successful in getting rid of (or at least making a dent in) the disease.

It was with great disappointment that he found out that the cancer had actually spread. What does a person of faith do in such instances? Were all the prayers for nothing? What's going on here? Does God ignore prayers? Does he not mind that one of his children is gravely ill? Most believers would say something like, "God moves in mysterious ways", but that's an awfully dodgy answer. His circle will continue to pray and I can't say I blame them, but if prayer only works some of the time, really, what good is it?

Though a big believer in God, I never pray. Praying makes God out to be stupid, as if She doesn't know what you want in your life, as if He can't already hear your thoughts, that you have to audibly say what it is that you seek. I believe that I co-created all of the events in my life before I was born, so what's happening is just what's happening and ultimately for my highest good.

Those who don't believe in pre-existence (having existed before being birthed by their mother) frequently feel as though things are happening to them, that they played no part in what is showing up. I accept all of it and therein lies much of my peace. It's possible that one day, I'll die in an accident. In my mind, however, there's no such thing as an accident or a coincidence.

I also have no doubt that there is something after this life. Most people, in fact, are the same. Why, then, do they worry about things? It's as if they think that the will of God can be somehow be thwarted (this is why the Devil was invented, by the way). The outcome of life is not in doubt. We are all assured a happy tomorrow. I only wish that more could see life as I do, that there is nothing to fear, ever, that all pain and sorrow is temporary. The day we pass, however, we'll know. We'll remember and wonder how we ever forgot.

Here are some real-life accounts of those who remembered.

Thunder Canyon

Last summer, I wrote about my trip to Valleyfair, an amusement park located near the Twin Cities. With plans to return there next week, I thought it'd be a good time to post some video I took in 2005 when I went with Shanon. Enjoy the sounds of summer.

My First Puppy

One afternoon in the summer of 1997, my girlfriend called from the home of a pet owner whose dog had recently given birth to puppies. She said that there was an adorable bitch (the runt of the litter, as it were) who she was dying to take home and love. I wasn't entirely sold on the idea, but decided to give it a try. Here is an amusing vid of her attempting to climb the steps of our townhouse:

Gayby

There's a scene in the new movie "Bruno" where the title character brings a baby that he adopted onto a talk show. The crowd of mostly African-Americans start booing when he states that he's looking for Mr. Right.



In a deleted scene, he states that he will disown his adopted son if he doesn't turn out to be gay. Sounds so ridiculous, but think of all the people who have disowned their own children when their sexual preference did not line up with their own; this despite studies that approximately 10% prefer the same sex across virtually all mammalian species.

Midnight Show

This evening, I plan to go to the midnight premiere of a new film. I've not done this in more than 4 years. I can recall 4 prior times this decade that I've gone to a midnight premie.

The first was in May 2002 for "Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones". I got my ticket for it about 5 days in advance. My friend said he would wait a few days before purchasing his. He didn't get around to it until the day the movie screened. Because of this, we had to watch the film in separate screening rooms (the big screen I purchased my ticket for had sold out). This didn't bother me too much as we were still gonna be watching the same movie at the same time.

Around 2,000 geeks showed up for the midnight presentation taking up about 10 screens. While seated, I noticed my cousin talking to his friends. It was good to see him. He said they had been there hours earlier playing hacky-sack in the parking lot and talking Star Wars. His marriage was just a few weeks away. The buzz on the movie was that it was better than Ep I, but I didn't really find this to be the case.

Later that year, I went to another midnight show, "The Two Towers", the second part of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I was let down by this one as well; it didn't have the magic and wonder of the first. No need to fear, though. One year later, I went to the midnight screening of "Return of the King" and was very satisfied.

Well, not at first, though. You see, as the previews were starting, I realized that I'd forgotten my Carmex in the car. There's no way I'd make it through 3 hours of what would turn out to be my favorite movie of the year without applying lip balm, so I hurried outside to obtain it. Ahh, that's better.

There's a number of faux endings in the last half hour of the movie. I noticed a few people around me getting frustrated by this, sighing a bit when they realized that the movie wasn't over yet. They probably had to be at work in the morning and were hoping the film was over. Not me. I would've been fine with a 4-hour film (the extended edition of it comes pretty close).

The last midnight show I attended was in May of 2005 for "Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith". There were a number of people dressed in Star Wars garb as was the case for Episode II (including a cute teen dressed as Princess Leia - hair buns included). I was suprised at how downbeat the film was, but it felt good to finally reach the end of the saga.

Music on the Go

Being a regular biker and loving music, it was a mighty happy day when I obtained my first Walkman from Kmart in the mid-80's. Rather than be a slave to what the DJ's were spinning, I could ride around town listening to my favorite new cassette (for an extra long trip, I might bring an additional one along). I remember hearing that wearing them while riding was dangerous because one might not be able to hear emergency vehicles and such, but hell if I cared.

I can recall how cool it was when they came out with ear buds (they go directly inside the ears as opposed to just over them). Once I arrived at my destination, I could simply put the buds in my pocket. I didn't switch to CD headphones until the late 90's.

This past week marked the 30th anniversary of the introduction of the Walkman. A 13-year old gave up his iPod for a Walkman for a week to commemorate the occasion.

Excerpt:

"It took me three days to figure out that there was another side to the tape. That was not the only naive mistake that I made; I mistook the metal/normal switch on the Walkman for a genre-specific equaliser, but later I discovered that it was in fact used to switch between two different types of cassette."

The Final Years of Michael Jackson

There's been a lot written about Micheal Jackson over the past week and a half, but the best piece I've read is by Ian Halperin. Last December, he predicted that MJ would be dead within 6 months. His book about Michael was initially set to be released this week, but out of respect for the family, its release date has been pushed to July 14th.



There are quite a few bombshells in the book, but for the most part, they make sense to me. Check out an excerpt here. Some choice bits:

"Some liked to snigger at his public image, and it is true that flamboyant clothes and bizarre make-up made for a comic grotesque; yet without them, his appearance was distressing; with skin blemishes, thinning hair and discoloured fingernails.

I had established beyond doubt, for example, that Jackson relied on an extensive collection of wigs to hide his greying hair. Shorn of their luxuriance, the Peter Pan of Neverland cut a skeletal figure.

He was also playing a truly dangerous game. It is clear to me that Michael was homosexual and that his taste was for young men, albeit not as young as Jordan Chandler or Gavin Arvizo (his accusers).

In the course of my investigations, I spoke to two of his gay lovers, one a Hollywood waiter, the other an aspiring actor. The waiter had remained friends, perhaps more, with the singer until his death last week. He had served Jackson at a restaurant, Jackson made his interest plain and the two slept together the following night. According to the waiter, Jackson fell in love.

The actor, who has been given solid but uninspiring film parts, saw Jackson in the middle of 2007. He told me they had spent nearly every night together during their affair – an easy claim to make, you might think. But this lover produced corroboration in the form of photographs of the two of them together, and a witness.

Other witnesses speak of strings of young men visiting his house at all hours, even in the period of his decline. Some stayed overnight. Jackson was afraid of being revealed as gay, believing many would view this as confirmation of the false allegations made against him that he was a child molester.

During my investigation into Jackson's life, I discovered a disturbing new twist to the infamous allegations that first emerged in the early Nineties. It may explain the star's increasingly fragile state of mind. When Jackson settled out of court with his first accuser, Jordan Chandler, for more than $15million in 1994, his career went into a rapid decline from which he never recovered. Jackson had not wanted to settle the case. I have obtained legal documents proving that his insurance company forced the settlement on him against his will.

The documents state: 'The [1994 Chandler] settlement agreement was for global claims of negligence and the lawsuit was defended by Mr Jackson's insurance carrier. The insurance carrier negotiated and paid the settlement, over the protests of Mr Jackson and his personal legal counsel.' Jackson was said to have almost collapsed as the settlement was forced upon him. His aides insist this marked the beginning of his mental and physical breakdown.

The ordeal had left him physically shattered, too. One of my sources suggested that he might already have had a genetic condition I had never previously come across, called Alpha-1 antitrypsin deficiency – the lack of a protein that can help protect the lungs.

Although up to 100,000 Americans are severely affected by it, it is an under-recognised condition. Michael was receiving regular injections of Alpha-1 antitrypsin derived from human plasma. The treatment is said to be remarkably effective and can enable the sufferer to lead a normal life.

But the disease can cause respiratory problems and, in severe cases, emphysema. Could this be why Jackson had for years been wearing a surgical mask in public, to protect his lungs from the ravages of the disease? Or why, from time to time, he resorted to a wheelchair? When I returned to my source inside the Jackson camp for confirmation, he said: ‘Yeah, that’s what he’s got. He’s in bad shape. They’re worried that he might need a lung transplant but he may be too weak."