Hittin' the (cold) town

Friday was hot date-night on this traveler's calendar as Ad and I braved the frigid Seattle streets at night and caught Kim Virant at the Triple Door. I'd read rave reviews about the venue, and Kim Virant had played there before - but alas, at the time I was a lonely single bloke, and uncomfortable with the idea of sallying forth to such a swanky juke joint flying solo. Hot gal around my arm this time, however, the Triple Door and the divine Miss Virant didn't disappoint. A scrumptious asian-fusion dinner and cocktails was followed by a great performance, though I was still left yearning for Kim's former bandmate Brian Kenney, in attendence, to join her onstage to blow the doors down with a couple blistering tunes from their band, the legendary and much-missed Lazy Susan.

Good News Everyone! Futurama Is Back!

I'm all giddy for next week's release of the long-awaited Futurama straight-to-dvd movie, "Bender's Big Score". Simpsons should have passed the torch to Futurama and retired gracefully, but FOX never did have a clue what a great show they had on their hands. I'm grateful for it's return nevertheless, since I've rewatched the original series ad nauseum.

Ad and I went to not one, but two different holiday craft shows last weekend, and I pretty much came up empty handed. But I did discover a snack that uncannily resembles "Popplers" from the Futurama episode, "The Problem With Popplers". Not only does Cosmos caramel corn look identical to Popplers, but they're equally as addictive. They may be caramel covered, baked corn puffs, but they taste even better imagining they're sentient alien larvae.

I want more life....f*cker!

Last night's screening of the "Final Cut" of Blade Runner at the Cinerama was moviegoing at it's finest. The print was immaculate - I doubt any of the original prints in 1982 even compared. The sound literally shook the railings, and Roy Batty and Deckard never looked so glorious in Syd Mead's fantastic vision of 2019 Los Angeles. I'm looking forward to having a dangerous, illegal, and taboo relationship with a replicant for my 51st birthday.

The changes were minor - mostly it was cleanup of the print, sound, and effects shots, including digitally removing the obnoxious wires lifting the full-scale spinners when they took off from the street, which always bothered me. The re-compositing of new footage with Joanna Cassidy crashing through glass in her death scene was flawless. My only minor complaint was that one of my favorite lines was tweaked - when Batty confronts Tyrell with the line "I want more life... FUCKER!", the line is now a softer, kind of mush-spoken "..father". But this hardly detracted from the overall improvements and the joy of seeing it in 70mm glory.

What happens in Vegas...

We touched down in Las Vegas Thursday, and immediately commenced upon a spree of booze, food, and gambling that would have made Henry VIII proud. Leaving soggy and cold Seattle behind for sun-kissed 85-degree desert-heat Vegas was a welcome break.

Thursday night we cavorted at Poly Esther's nightclub, since it was the only club we could find that would admit the casual attire of our party. We molested the wax statues of Madame Tussaud's at the Venetian, watched Penn & Teller work magic, and bowled at Lucky Strike Lanes at the Rio, where Beca rolled her personal best score of 174!

Saturday, Ad and I visited Hoover Dam, which lived up to it's hype. And in the wee hours of the morning, we played our favorite slot machine, "Ring Quest", and I hit a 20,100 credit jackpot (in pennies, sadly), making this my first Vegas trip where I left with winnings.

Ad and I are getting along better and better, even under the duress of a grueling return trip plagued by insanely long security lines, delayed flights, and tarmac shuttle mishaps at LAX (Note to self: Spring for the extra cost for direct flights unless it's obsenely expensive next go-round).


More pics of the lost weekend on Flickr: http://tinyurl.com/2vjjmc

The Autumn People and Children of the Corn

Fall has always been one of my favorite times of the year, what with it's spooky, smokey atmosphere of earthy sights and smells and pagan revelry. Ad and I made the most of it this weekend by going to the Seattle Arboretum and the Autumn Festival in Snohomish. The pumpkin patches and old town funk of Snohomish transported us right into the world of Ray Bradbury's "Something Wicked This Way Comes", though it lacked an evil carnival. We indulged in a slice of pie at the legendary Snohomish Pie Co. for lunch, and wandered into the Stocker Farms Corn Maze. The sound of giggling from unseen children in the maze made us feel we were being stalked by the He Who Walks Behind The Rows and his cult of murderous children worshippers.

Halo 3 launch party

I got to be one of my pal Gronk's hot dates to the Bungie Halo 3 launch party (I laid down the rules beforehand that I'd only go to 2nd base with him). Important tip: when the drinks are FREE and STRONG, be sure to eat something! Breaking that rule would come back to haunt me later in the evening and the next morning. The open bar had an ice sculpture that was also a alcohol-shute which the bartenders poured drinks through. The party planners were smart to forego dancing and stick to a mixer with Halo 3 movies and video gaming because nerds can't dance. You just get a dozen girls on the dance floor and 200 horny guys staring at them in uncomfortable silence. The geek mosh reached a frenzy when Billy G appeared. I managed to capture on film the alpha waves pulsating from his gigantic brain. Gronk and Paul were playing a Halo 3 fragfest, oblivious to the world's richest man holding court directly behind them.





At midnight they bused us to Bellevue's Best Buy to fan the flames of the fans lined up to buy the game. Thankfully I obeyed my body's warning to stop drinking, even though there was booze on the bus. Microsoft was kind enough to provide complimentary cab fare, though I had to retrieve my parked truck at Bungie the next morning. Since my bike tire had a flat and I'm allergic to public transportation, I walked 15 miles from Renton to Kirkland yesterday morning. Sweating out 2 gallons and walking/jogging for 2 and a half hours is a great cure for a wicked hangover.

Food on a stick and DEVO

Ad and I do the Puyallup Fair Friday, gorging ourselves on scones and all manner of food on a stick. I succumbed to the seductive carny chant luring me to see the fair's only "freak" - Mack & Jack, the two headed turtle, which wasn't nearly as cool as the "Ze-Donk" - a Zebra/Donkey hybrid. After hours of rides, animals, and failed attempts to win Ad a giant stuffed penguin on the midway games, we went to an epic appearance by DEVO. Mothersbaugh and the boys really still pack a weird punch.

Who needs a mitt, anyways?

Sept 12, 2007

En route to Monday's Mariners game I stopped off to shop in the always cool Elliott Bay Book Co. to pick up something to read at the ballpark when things were slow. An hour of browsing turned up a used copy of Philip K. Dick's "The Man In The High Castle", a longtime resident on my must-read list. I got to the ballpark 2 hours early and bought a plate of Ivar's fish and chowdah for the bargain price of $14.50.

I get to my seat and realized to my horror that I was settling down with my plate of sloppy food in the midst of batting practice, right in the prime home run drop zone, 2 rows from the outfield wall in right field. The 5 o'clock sun is glaring right in my eyes so I can't even see the batters, and I'm surrounded by dozens of souvenier-seeking maniacs and their mitts, waiting to dive for balls. So I chow down at indigestion-inducing speed to avoid having a screaming fly ball drop out of the sun right onto my lap or head. Once finished, I begin reading P.K.D., warily listening to the crowd around me for cues of incoming balls, when sure enough, they start squealing with excitement as a fly ball comes rocketing right towards me. I look up, yelp and scurry out of the way, since I have no intention of catching it with my gimpy, bare right hand, and I don't want to get crushed in the scrum of bozos scrambling my way. The ball bounces off a seat to the right of me and I instinctively drop the book and said ball plops right in my hands, much to the chagrin of the beacher bums who'd been waiting hours for a souvenir.

That would prove to be the highlight of the game, since Oakland proceeded to tear the reeling M's a new cornshute. Compounding the misery was a group of A's fans in my section, chest-thumping and hollering with every Oakland hit or run scored. So I bailed in the 5th inning, thankfully missing the continuing slaughter, happy with my souvenier and belly full of greasy fish.

Bad cop, no donut

July 12, 2007

A morning stop at Top Pot and McDonald's (Yes, I'm trying to kill myself) led me on a detour to work and right into a traffic light cop-trap and subsequent ticket. I saw the tiny "right turn only during arbitrary hours of the day - like right now" sign too late and Che Whitey Motorcycle Cop jumped on me like a vulture on a rotting water buffalo.

I've determined that your probability of getting a traffic ticket is directly proportionate to the degree of sexual satisfaction or frustration of the officer pulling you over. Obviously my cop hasn't had his chain yanked in a long, long, long time, because he read me the riot act about my heinous traffic crimes while angrily writing me a ticket.

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time...

July 11, 2007
Comrade Gronk made this tribute to our joint birthday and my eternal mocking of him being a year older than me. I actually got to finally give the ballyhooed sandwich shop Salumi a try on my b-day, because for once there wasn't a line out the door onto the sidewalk. I got a prosciutto and provalone sammich, which was good, though I wouldn't say it was $11 good ($9.85 + dollar tip, natch).

Ad took me to Troiani for dinner, which was mucho tasty. I dunno if it was the summer heat or my lack of drinking practice, but one Crown and Coke had my head buzzing for like 3 hours, Yow! Their seafood dishes were pretty good, especially Ad's roasted bacon-wrapped scallops.
Among other great gifts, she got me an iPod Shuffle, which I've been coveting since I got her one for X-Mas. Now I can wander through Pioneer Square and tune out the panhandlers and drug dealers with soundtracks to Blade Runner.

Squishees and Fireworks = Good

July 4, 2007
Ad and I cool off on a picture-perfect Seattle 4th with Squishees at the newly-arrived Seattle Kwik-E-Mart. We'd just come from Pike Place Market to indulge Ad's craving for a corndog at the Wonder Freeze - though we had to endure a cranky old corndog nazi who yelled at me when I dared ask him for mustard.

We watched the Lake Union fireworks at Gasworks Park with 60,000 of our closest friends, which was jaw-droppingly spectacular. I thought the piddly fireworks show at Coulon Park near my house was pretty good. Hoo-daddy did this show put that to shame!

Big Apple and The Heart of Darkness (WA DC, that is)

May 31, 2007
Adrienne and I returned from a week of touristy fun in NYC and DC. Sadly, I can't report that I bumped into Ann Coulter at the urinals in a DC men's room and gave her a much-deserved swirly. But the trip was a lot of fun, with only a few misadventures.

Adrienne was a little gimpy from a sprain, but she soldiered on and kept up with my manic, robotic speedwalking. We were both awestruck by the scale and grandeur of Manhattan. As a cinemaphile and comic book huffer, it was amazing to see the neighborhoods and haunts of my childhood idols such as Spiderman and Travis Bickle. At nearly every street corner I expected to look up and see Aunt May sewing in an apartment window or Doctor Strange summoning the hoary hosts of Hoggoth in his Sanctum Sanctorum. Landmarks such as the Empire State Building, NY Public Library and Metropolitan Museum lived up to their billing. I was bummed that the exterior of the Guggenheim was enshrouded in scaffolding for a restoration, but photos don't do justice to its amazing interior. Central Park was spectacular, especially on Sunday when the sun broke out.

By the fourth day we were burning out a bit, so it was just as well that we were getting a change of scenery by heading out to DC. After negotiating the hair-raising NYC morning rush hour traffic and Jersey turnpike tolls in our rental car, we arrived in DC at noon Monday. A great first day of monuments and memorials was rudely interrupted by the horror of walking out of the National Archives after ogling the Declaration of Independance and Constitution to find that our car had been towed. I learned the hard way that many of the streets in DC become extremely unforgiving "Do Not MutherF'in Park" zones at the dot at 4 pm. We had to cab to the very, very bad side of town to a scary impound lot to retrieve our car. Even our cabbie was uncomfortable in the neighborhood, shouting out to the wifebeater-wearing gatekeeper to make sure he had gotten us to the correct destination and wasn't abandoning us to our doom. After only a slightly tramatizing interrogation in a run-down trailer by the cast of the "Gimp" scene in Pulp Fiction, we were back on our way, with my first DC souvenir - a $100 parking ticket.

We stuck to the traditional touristy stuff in DC, although after our very lengthy tour of museums in NY, we were a bit tired of artwork and artifacts - so we concentrated mainly on outdoor sites such as Arlington Cemetery, capital buildings, and sculpture parks. We also took a Duck tour of DC, which wasn't nearly as cool as the one we took in Boston last summer, but was still fun. Much to my chagrin, on our last day we found out that you could take a tour of the Bureau of Engraving and Printing to see real money getting printed, which sounded awesome. But sadly we didn't have enough time left for that.