Hot August Movies (21)

August started off in a blaze of movies which tapered to a trickle amongst Lake House trips, a bunch of Giants games, Fantasy Football prep (can y'all believe the new season is almost here?!), a new roommate moving in and outings with friends. Still though, I managed to put in a good number, and saw some excellent films. I highly suggest you check out the Jacket if you haven't seen it before...excellent Adrien Brodie/Kiera Knightly movie...As usual, links are to Wikipedia, unless doing so will spoil the outcome of a movie.

1: Good-Bye Lenin
3: Boogie Nights
4: Children of Men
5: Rocky 2
7: Rocky 3, Brazil
8: The Machinist, The Illusionist
9: Bourne Ultimatum
12: Swing Time, American Graffiti
13: The Jacket
14: Mallrats
15: Batman Begins, A Crude Awakening
16: Do the Right Thing
17: It Happened One Night
19: Smokin' Aces
22: Happy Feet
25: Ferris Bueller's Day Off
29: Get Rich or Die Tryin'

Please Mr. Maualuga, Don't Hit Me

It's almost football season now, and none of my teams are projected to do better than my alma mater USC Trojans. One of the keystones of this team will be the defense, headed up by Rey Maualuga, a 6'3" 250 lbs monster of a linebacker known for huge hits. Here's text from a Los Angeles Times article about yesterdays' practice. If he's willing to do this to his own teammates, how hard is he going to hit the other guy? I love where Turner says the hit "sounded like thunder"...

"USC's "Competition Tuesday" practices typically feature contact that often goes beyond the high-intensity norm of most Trojans workouts. Starting receiver Patrick Turner and starting center Matt Spanos both suffered injuries that could affect their availability for Saturday's opener against Idaho.

Linebacker Rey Maualuga hit Turner on a pass play over the middle, leaving the 6-foot-5 junior sprawled on the ground. Team medical personnel attended to Turner and then took him for observation on the sideline before sending him for X-rays after practice.

"That was a vicious hit," Coach Pete Carroll said.

Turner said his left arm went numb after the collision and that he suspected he sustained a "stinger." He said he did not see but could hear the collision, and that it sounded like "thunder" in his helmet. Maualuga apologized to Turner but said the collision was almost predictable.

"Before practice, he was like, 'I'm going to [Randy] Moss you, Rey. I'm going to Moss you,' like catch a ball over me and like beat me downfield like in a footrace," Maualuga said.

"I'm like, 'Your helmet is going to come off, your helmet is going to come off.' Swear to God, those were the exact words coming in. For some reason, it was like, boom, he was there, I was there. It just happened."

Here's Rey putting the hurt on UCLA's quarterback last year. Watch carefully, he's #58:

Lake Style

Heading up to the lake this weekend was Gavroche, Damie, Exile, L’il Orphan and Sis…we convened on Friday night, beginning the drinking as soon as we stepped in the door…but, um, no alcohol? Well, that’s not quite true, just not the plethora of choices we usually have. Damie got up later in the evening after a Brubeck concert, but we still got some good celebration of D’s birthday in.

Saturday morning, we took a sleep in, followed it with a wakeboarding run (after some very unsuccessful work on the docking mechanism), and then ate lunch. Before lunch, the problems with the dock extend into me trying to maneuver tightly in the cove and smashing into a neighbor’s jet ski. Luckily, after some talking and profuse apologizing, the owner tells me they’re going to let it go.

After lunch, it was back out for more wakeboarding. As I’m driving P, we hit a huge wave, and as I reach for the throttle, it’s no longer there. It’s hanging loose and spinning around, leaving me with no control over the boat. I get it reengaged to watch the speed shoot to thirty. I start yelling at P to let go, kill the engine, and barely manage to avoid having a heart attack.

Saturday night it’s standard drinking, stuffed jalapenos, tri-tip and booze cruise action. Throughout all of this, mind you, there’s not a 45 minute period where Gavroche or myself doesn’t yell at each other, “Roll up son!”

Sunday, we make a crucial decision…We can pack it in, call it a weekend and head back, or squeeze out a few more lake hours. We decide on the latter, and realize as we’re basking in the swimming cove, drinking Coronas and smoking joints while listening to music coming out of the boat, that we definitely made the right choice.

There’s not much that can describe the peace, relaxation and ease of movement that comes with being at the lake. Maybe some pictures will.

Photos: Me sporting the fruits of the CRA's labor, Big Boss and I on the boat, Sis and I (mirror images), Hessica floating after a long run, Gavroche and Hessica, two fools (Gavroche and I), the Cuban Rolling Association in action, Floating Gavroche, Orphan and Amie check out Hessica in the water, The Crew and the boat, Gavroche on flag duty, the Crew part 2.

Page 2 Pieces of Wisdom

Every month in ESPN the Magazine, they have a few pages called Page 2 with miscellaneous bits of information from the sporting world that are interesting even to the non-sports fans. This month's were excellent and had a few worth sharing...

- Bonds Breaks Through: Next decision for Bud Selig: is it better to recognize Sadaharu Oh's 868 career home runs or to count each of A-Rod's twice going forward?

- Had Barry Bonds hit his 756th home run an additional 198,002 feet, Greg Anderson would have had a chance to catch it in the prison yard of FCI Dublin.

- Turtle from Entourage is working on a comedy script for a movie about an adult Wiffle ball league.

- David Beckham cancelled his Simpsons appearance because an earlier episode poked fun at his alleged affair.

- 84 year old grandma becomes Poland's oldest parachutest.

- From their "occasional poll of approximately a decent number of sports enthusiasts, called randomly at the most inconvenient times," a survey on College Football '07...
30% think Rutgers will be this year's Rutgers.
2% wonder how long it will take until USC's audibles are referred to as "Booty Calls"
1% say they'd "buy tickets to see Temple v. Duke in the Technically Somebody Has to Win Bowl."

- EA is working on tetherball, dodgeball and slot car racing for Wii.

- Current Major Leaguers with the Most Outs (as of 8.7.07):
1) Craig Biggio, 8,157
2) Omar Vizquel, 7,409
3) Steve Finley, 7,285
4) Barry Bonds, 7,253
5) Sammy Sosa, 6,749
6) Luis Gonzalez, 6,621
7) Julio Franco, 6,606
8) Ken Griffey Jr., 6,491
9) Gary Sheffield, 6,339
10) Ivan Rodriguez, 6,060

- 10 Tour de France riders were fined $83 for "satisfying nature's need in front of the public."

- "Frisbee sports are in," says Wham-O's Dave Waisblum. "Everybody's coming to the realization that they've taken over." Of course, your old roomie's known that for years.

- Scott Niedermayer, an NHL Hockey player for the Anaheim Mighty Ducks, in a letter to the Chicago City Council to support its ban on foie gras: "As an Anaheim Duck, I hate to see real ducks tortured so that a handful of wealthy chefs can serve their diseased organs. Please uphold this compassionate law."

- Thirty-three Texas high school cheerleaders brawl at summer camp.

- Health inspectors logged 188 rat violations at Angel Stadium over the past 2.5 years.

- The inventor of the Segway has created a new Segway that can pull a golf bag for golfers on the course.

Roomie's First Night Out

When I tell the new Roomie to get her game face on for Saturday night, she’s a bit confused. Then I explain that game face is code for partying and on means on. She's still confused. Then I explain that for her first night out in the city of SF, we're going to go big and never go home. We start early by her tender East Coastian standards, heading up to a poker night by the Cow Palace at Coach’s fiancée’s place. There, I’m introduced to the wonders of Wii Boogie and some concoction made of ginger beer and tequila. It’s a positive start to the evening to be sure.

From the poker party, where Roomie gets her kicks videotaping me Wii dancing, we head up to the city, park by Bar None and head into Bus Stop for a quick refresher before meeting up with Topher, ChengJ, Foster, SG and Boil (obviously not the correct spelling there). The ride from the poker party to the city has sobered us a bit, and the unnaturally strong drinks Bus Stop tenders like to pour puts us right back in our place. She asks me if 10 is too early to be making out in the bar. I think she’s getting fresh with me until I realize she’s talking about the two people across the bar who are exploring each other’s throats with their tongues. We hop a cab and head to the housewarming party.

There we drink keg beer. Well, I drink keg beer, Roomie doesn’t. We use this time as an extension of the pre-party before we move to City. There, the bartender isn’t Chris, and the jackass won’t let me in and out of the window for J smoking. At one point, he physically grabs me by the shirt and tells me not to come in the window. I’d blow pot smoke right in that bastard’s face, if I had been smoking some. Regardless of the positive press ChengJ gives this new guy, I think he sucks, and he severely cut into my good time last night for about the two minutes surrounding that incident. We kill some more drinks there, and Roomie thinks that the evening is about to come to a close. I tell her we’re now done with phase 1.

We hit the street outside City and Jacks gives me a call to tell me to meet her down at 14th and Mission. We get down there, yet no Jacks. I call her back. “Oh, my bad, I meant 14th and Valencia.” Oops. We’re walking down the street as I’m looking for her and Roomie, who has met her one time, spots her for us. We cruise into Beauty Bar where dancing ensues. Contrary to her previous indications, Roomie can dance. I guess it just takes a few to get her there. While the crowd in Beauty is thick enough that dancing is more like moving your joints in a square foot of space, there's not a rug in that place that we don't cut. Outside in the street, after dancing problem free the entire night, I take a few quick dance hops into the street and find my left ankle kissing the concrete as I’ve managed to dance hop myself into the wrong end of a pothole. So much for that recovery I’ve been working on.

I’m not quite sure how we get from Beauty Bar to Jacks’ place to pass out, but I think it involves a cab. I’m not really sure because I don’t have any pictures to tell the story for me. As I’m falling asleep, I hear conversations revolving around a cat that will steal my soul if it sits on my chest and corned beef hash. Somehow this translates into the idea to feed a cat corned beef hash, but this is confusion and pot smoke in Jacks' loft at 2:30 am, so what do you expect?

Roomie’s first night out on the town in SF is chronicled here in pictures for all to see. It must have been ok because she keeps talking about how much fun she had, but then again, maybe she just doesn't want me to feel bad, or that could have had something to do with the alcoholic beverage Katie fed us at Nini’s this morning. One thing’s for sure…I need to buy a blow up mattress for the apartment, for a variety of reasons all brought to my attention in beautiful detail last night. I also need to always wear an ankle brace when I go out drinking, dance on a more regular basis with Jacks and continue meeting Roomie’s high expectations of fun times with even higher results.

I’m so happy right now I could dance. If my ankle wasn’t the size of a softball. Next stop: Lake House.

Pictures: The crew at City (notice how thrilled Foster is that I'm taking the picture), Jacks at Beauty, Roomie and I triumphant and heroic, Roomie showing me how to get my hair did, and for some reason the majority of the pictures I have with Jacks involve her in the street. Weird.

Just Hanging Loose

For those of you in search of an extra tasty sandwich, I recommend the all new Hang Loose from Mr. Pickles. Pastrami, bacon, avocado and cream cheese on a soft dutch crunch roll. Life doesn't get much better on a roll.

New Roommate, New Blogname

Alright people. Pay attention. This might confuse some of you. Up to this point, Roomie has been Boarder has been Hessica. Well she has moved on now, currently confused and adrift in her search for life's meanings, and can no longer be rightfully called Roomie. She now gets back the title of Boarder, although I will also sometimes refer to her as the Exile for my own personal amusement. While I'm bitter that she's moving to San Diego, it goes without saying that she's not only my ex roommate, but also my family and friend. While I miss her terribly, it's her own problem that she moved out of such an amazing apartment. So, without further ado, I bring to you the all new Roomie:

No, she didn't go to Towson. I don't have any idea what that sweatshirt means, nor why she would wear it, so don't ask me. But hey, I wear around a Farmington shirt that no one can really decipher, so I guess all's fair in love and sweatshirts. J.G. (for those that meet her in person, you can get her real name...for some trivia, it's the shortened form of my 7th/8th grade girlfriend's name, if that helps y'all out any (only spelled with a Y, not an IE for the Sands fans in the room))

She went to PennState for undergrad and UPenn for grad school. She has worked as a therapist, babysitter, Bacardi girl and now moves on as family nanny. She enjoys running, laughing and has taken great enjoyment so far in making fun of me, but really, who doesn't now and again? She enjoyed her first LaTaq burrito this evening, is very happy to have a place to call home for a while, and is ready to be overwhelmed by meeting all of you crazies out there. She'll be out taking in the town on a regular basis, so don't feel the need to dogpile and hence crush her the first time you see her...that would leave me searching for another roommate.

So, that's Roomie JG in a very small, manageable and bloggable nutshell. When you see her, don't be afraid, she won't bite. Although, beware anyways...I haven't yet ruled out the possibility that she could be a werewolf in disguise. I wonder what the ratio of werewolves to vampires is. And really, is she more likely to be a leprechaun or a unicorn? Oh. We're still talking about Roomie here. Right. Welcome!

Dismissed

As some of you know, I've been in the process of fighting a ticket I got for not wearing my seat belt. My contention, provided through written declaration in this fine bureaucracy of ours, was that the officer was too far away to be able to see that my seat belt wasn't on, and therefore there was a high probability that he had made a simple visual error.

Let this be a lesson to you...never give up in these matters without a fight. I had a speeding ticket reversed when the cop didn't show up to verify what was on his radar gun, I've gotten this one dismissed by arguing that the cop was too far away, and in the past four months I've gotten 3 parking tickets dismissed because of written arguments that contended that either an parking meter error or meter maid error had taken place.

Damn the man, once again.

Happy Birthday JH!

She's 23 people. Not much can be said about this girl here, but I'll try...her life story reads something like this:
She was born and lived cynically and at the same time wistfully from then until high school. At that point, she lovingly became known as the Boarder after she took over my old bedroom and position as the favorite child. She continued on to UC Berkeley where they gave her a degree that she still has somewhere. Upon completion of her collegiate career and studies abroad, she returned to the bay area and took up residency with Sen. F, spending a few hours in our apartment sometimes as well, becoming Roomie.

Now, she looks to the future with wide eyes, spreading her wings to unknown (well, known, San Diego) pastures to return one day to the cheers of the masses. Boarder, Roomie, Friend, Robot, countrywoman, Hessica is them all. Here she is in one of her final moments as a 22 year old, practicing for the days and weeks as a 23 year old to come.

More Lake Pics

We had so much fun in one day that not all the pictures could fit in one post...here are some other ones! We've got Sis looking unamused, Roomie and I kicking it on the boat, Murphy and flowers, the magical hammock strings that stood straight up in the air, P's fabulous stuffed peppers in yellow, Mom, Murphy and Sean; P and son in law, Murphy, Sis and Roomie eat dinner;

New Family, New Standards

I couldn't figure out why it was so important to be seen at the Lake House this weekend by Em and Sean...they don't usually make it out from Utah, so I figured the fact that they even had a vacation was big...let alone one they wanted to spend with me. Roomie and I got up to the lake at about 10 on Friday night, and when I woke up in the morning, I found out. There, placed in front of me at breakfast, was a gift from them. I opened it up to find something that confused me a little at first. I had to do a double take to realize that the coffee mug with "Uncle AC" on it was not only mine, but meant that my sister is 10 weeks pregnant! I will soon be an Uncle!

Sis, her significant other, Roomie and myself decide that because we only have one day up there, Em's pregnant and Sunday is Roomie's 23rd birthday, we need to get hammered, as in immediately. We start at about 1 with mix drinks (peach on peach for me) and Asshole, which we don't stop playing until it's time for dinner. I found a rule that sticks throughout the night...whenever I start dancing the last person to say, "This is A--'s favorite song" has to drink. The drinking doesn't stick, but the comment when I start dancing does. Dinner is a bit hazy...I remember nothing but the tritip steak.

We head out on the water for the booze cruise, which I also remember extremely little of. Truthfully, I'm not sure how I got so incredibly wasted that I don't even remember if I was the one that parked the boat at the end of the cruise. Somewhere in there, almost my entire stash disappeared, and the majority of the Absolut disappeared with it. I'm told that Roomie helped me with a bit of it, but for the most part, I killed it solo.

I remember a few of the joints I rolled, and my mom telling me as she was going to bed, "You need to not be so drunk right now." I laughed. "Mom, I'm not drunk!" This morning she was telling me that Roomie and I spent a good portion of the evening attacking each other, but I tell her that's normal all the time. I think we set a new standard of drunk at the lake house, which for those that have come, know is not easy to do.

I woke up in the middle of the night on the couch, not really sure how I had gotten there, and extremely grateful that I hadn't urinated or thrown up on anything. Even more surprising was how remarkably good I felt this morning besides the fact that I used my body as an alcohol processing plant for close to 12 hours. Never did find out what happened to all that grass....

Photos: Roomie is not happy that I'm taking her picture, P trying on my hat, Em trying my hat, the soon to be parents Em and Sean, and the Sis and Roomie getting ready to play Asshole.

now's in between

The destinies that question me
and the taught lessons seen as recipes,
if forgotten smoke from rotten ropes
could beckon me,
I'd follow.

Along with sheep and shackled men
singing life's song too steeped with misplaced ends,
when evening fades and gives way to day
I come to find,
I'm hollow.

I'm not walking on midnight future lawns,
Or dancing in dew laden sunsplashed past early dawns,
the ecstatic dream of now's in between
clasps hold of me
to set me free.

That's when the broken spine of backwards time
rips holes into the back of my mind.
the holes fall down to splash the ground,
which proves to me
all time is round.

Bonds: Congratulations, and Damn You!

So there's been something that's been bothering me throughout this historic home run chase of Barry Bonds...Bonds has stated on numerous occasions, and we all know, that the gap on his resume revolves around his lack of a World Series ring. We're over halfway done with the season, but even 12 games back, in the NL West, that's a gap that can be made up.

However, instead of playing all 9 innings to win ballgames, especially when he might bat in the 9th or 10th, Bochy is pulling Bonds in the 6th or 7th inning of games. Then we're losing in the 8th or 9th and don't have our 16 million dollar slugger at the plate to try to pull us back into it.

Last night is a perfect example. I couldn't be more pleased with Barry for hitting 756 and ending a 20 year chase of one of the most historic sports records out there. It had to be one of the more difficult things to do, and it had to be a relief when he crushed that ball into the right field bleachers at the deepest part of the yard.

And then, in the next inning, they give him a curtain call, pull him from the game and send him to the locker room. I get that this was big for him, but what about the team and what's left of a playoff chase? The guy is 3/3 with a single, double and home run. He's hitting hot and we need runs to win games. We give up 4 in the 8th inning and lose 8-6. Where's Bonds? Could he have hit another home run? A game winning single? We'll never know cause he was on the bench.

I guess what I'm saying is that I understand his age, and the chase, but the man makes 16 million...the least he can do is play a full 8 or 9 innings of a close ballgame, especially when he's hitting hot.

mementos

Down a twisted, sideways, beaten path
past the wrath of hideaways that housed spliffed up kids
and lids ripped up to rafters
so the passerbys and the beautiful flies can see them,
blowing in the wind.

As the wind confiscated the stillness of the air
I looked around and felt for the first time a breath to catch,
a latch,
unlocked and busted free,
a broken limb off a tree,
and the moments of lost stillness caught up with me
in a rush,
consolidating the mixed up pieces of things both confused and understood
into a touch,
that reached from the sands to the woods to brush the lines of apprehension from my brow,
here and now,

And with the lines lifted,
I walked on
looking for perhaps a new dusk and dawn to pursue
an avenue with which to wrap all future
memories of here.

New Feature! QOD Archive!

Sure, that Quote of the Day section over there is pretty spiffy. Sure, it comes up with some pearls of wisdom. But what if you miss it? What, no pearl of wisdom then? That's not fair, I thought. So, starting today, there's going to be an archive of previous Quotes of the Day in case you miss one or a few for a trip to Nepal, an appendectomy or a day trip to New York. Also, if you happen to have a case of explosive amnesia, this will be good for that too. And what easier way than to just click on the link under the current quote to see all the quotes you've been missing? No easier way, that's how!