Archive for 'memories' Category

2008.03.20

Gran Torino

I don’t care what this movie is about… When it comes out I’m going to see it. Clint Eastwood is going to direct and star in a movie called Gran Torino.

We had a 1976 Ford Gran Torino when I was a kid. Four doors, silver, and built like a tank. When I could finally drive in high school that was the car my parents let me use. My friends dubbed it The Beast and the name stuck. We had all kinds of adventures in The Beast, from Jolt dropping to road trips to simply driving to and from school, which was never a direct route… There were always detours and visits along the way. I had The Beast in college, too, and put thousands upon thousands of miles on him. I wonder if my parents had any idea at the time just how far I’d gone.

The Beast was indestructible. We had it in Korea when we lived there the first time. A bus tried to cut into our lane and hit us instead. The bus was a wreck but The Beast had a little ding and paint scratches. The Beast would fix himself, too. Once he had a hole in his radiator and I’d have to fill it up after every trip. Then one day me and some friends were on a road trip to some obscure Ohio town and I was told to make a left turn LONG after it was safe to make a left turn. I slid in the gravel in the median and right into the pole holding up the “No U Turn” sign and flattened it. Afterwards the radiator never leaked again.

I loved The Beast but after college I was off to Prague. I left him in my parent’s care and, while I was on another continent and couldn’t do much about it, they donated The Beast to an auto repair school. Probably a fitting end though I think an escape like any of the chase scenes from Blues Brothers. My sister always complained that I destroyed him and he wouldn’t run (I think she wanted it once she was old enough) but I know he was running perfectly well -or at least well enough- when I left.

I miss that car. Every once in a while I see a Gran Torino on the road and get wistful and nostalgic. I’ve always liked the movie The Highlander and there is one scene, after the fight in the garage at Madison Square Garden and MacLeod is getting the guy’s power, where you can see the front of a Gran Torino in the background. Yes, the car affected me so much that I notice them in movies, even.

No word on what the movie is about, but it had best feature some shots of one of The Beast’s cousins or I’m gonna be pissed!

2008.02.17

Fun at Mookee’s Expense

This is in answer to Mookee’s post about skiing this past weekend. We went up for a day trip with my friend and neighbor, Shawn, to Sugar Bowl. Shawn is new to snowboarding so I spent the first part of the day with him, teaching him the basics. Then in the afternoon Mookee and I hit some of the more difficult slopes. Since he called me out in his post to give my perspective on his two stories, here they are. Make sure to read his (link above) first, and then come back here.

Read the rest of this entry…

2008.02.10

Being Emo Phillips

Sounds like a movie title, but really that’s how it feels as an audience member when Emo Phillips speaks. You get a feeling, watching and listening, of what a strange world he occupies, hilarious and twisted and yet innocent in the way little kids sometimes say something inadvertently dirty.

I went to see Emo last night with Mookee and his girlfriend at Punchline. In a certain sense Mookee and I have Emo to thank for our long friendship. When we first met I though Mookee was the biggest jerk in the world. Then one summer there was no one else to hang out with. Mookee would just stand there reciting Emo Phillips jokes he’d memorized and somehow it made him just tolerable enough that I could stand him for more than a minute at a time.

So thank you, Emo! You were awesome last night.

2008.01.21

Absinthe Again (or Not)

Last summer on my trip to Europe (part business, part pleasure) I picked up a bottle of absinthe in Prague. I also picked up four brilliant antique glasses in Paris to drink it in. Alas, I can’t seem to get my varied friends together to sample the “green fairy.”

Absinthe WritingIt’s funny because I noticed Jordan (who seems to lack permalinks?) recently posted his story quest for absinthe. Reading his story got me thinking about the absinthe again. My first experience with it was when I lived in Prague. My friend Richmond and I were sitting in Bunkr. I was writing and drawing in my journal when the first shot arrived, Bohemian style. My writing is pretty clear and coherent if a bit depressing. A musing about my love life. The drawing I made was pretty good, though. By the time I had the second shot my handwriting is straying and pretty messy. Clearly my thoughts are wandering, too.

After the third shot… Well, I don’t know what the heck I was writing about, and it’s barely legible anyways! Well, that’s not true… Obviously I was thinking naughty thoughts in a vampiric way. Even reading it now my eyebrows are crinkling and I’m thinking, “What the heck was I thinking?!?”

Anyways, the point is that absinthe is an interesting drink and it would be fun for me to see how my friends react to it. How to convince them?

2008.01.14

Stardust

StardustI just recently picked up Stardust on DVD. Brilliant.

Back in my high school days my friends and I watched a few movies probably far too much. The Princess Bride was one of those films. It appealed to our romantic sense of adventure. Plus girls liked it, too, so our female friends could hang out with us stinky boys while we guzzled Jolt and ate Oreo cookies. Highlander was another but I think that was more for the boys; it had blades and boobies both of which, as a teenager, were immensely more interesting than the girls who weren’t sharing their boobies and didn’t have swords.

That’s neither here nor there, though. If I were in high school today Stardust would be one of the movies we would watch again and again. It has adventure, romance, magic, and great humor. I’d heard that it was marketed horribly (stupid marketers) and that’s a shame because this really is a great film. I have a feeling that despite the fact I’m not in high school anymore I’ll see this many more times.

2007.09.06

World Beer Hunter: RIP

In what seems like ages ago, I worked at Discovery Channel in their now defunct interactive media department. Looking at the titles at the last link I realize I worked on most of them. Two of the titles were called The Beer Hunter and World Beer Hunter. Both of these titles were created with British writer Michael Jackson (I know, an unfortunately similar name to some pop star). This man knew more about beer than almost anyone else on Earth, and had a great sense of humor. There’s no one I would have loved to have a pint and talk about beer with than Mr. Jackson.

Sadly, I just learned that he passed away. My thoughts go out to his family, friends and mates at his favourite pub. The world of beer has lost a great proponent. Tonight I will have a pint of Boddingtons in his honor.

2007.08.20

How To Fix An Unlighting Zippo

A long time ago, about 14 years ago now, I was given a brass Zippo lighter from my coworker Zoka. Zoka was from Bosnia and had fled the warzone there when Yugoslavia was butchering itself. He and that Zippo had seen more than their fill of negativity and he wanted to give it a new life. So he gave it to me. I’ve been carrying it ever since and I hope I’ve given it a better life.

I thought I lost it once, and almost had it confiscated another time, but I still have it and it still works. Except it wasn’t. Somewhere in the past few months it seems the Zippo decided it didn’t want to light anymore. Strange given that Zippos are one of the most reliable devices of the modern age.

I was lamenting this fact to a current coworker, Zionvlad, and he recommended shortening the wick. Really? Something so simple? Sure enough I shortened the wick tonight and the damn thing seems to be working again. So if you ever find that your Zippo isn’t lighting when it should, try shortening the wick; you just might find that with simple devices, the simple tricks work best.

2007.08.07

Reminding Myself of Things Forgotten

And it seems most of all I write this to remind myself of things I sometimes forget.I wrote this in the Spring of 1994 while in Prague and found it today scouring my old journals for material to fill out a project I’m working on. I would write it a bit differently today, but the sentiment is still very true. Maybe we are wiser in youth then we ever realize.

I do not write this to wring bitter memories of days of hate and confusion, to remind you of slow days walking around town, of sleeping in on the weekends, of sitting on the patio discussing the day and just how things seem to be in the world, of watching the tree across the street slowly turn yellow and start loosing its leaves until snow started to cover it all anyways.

I write this to remind you that love is real, but that love can die, and when anything dies it is a sad occasion and often causes a lot of pain. But in every moment of a death there is a birth, and so it goes.

I write this to remind anyone that cares to read it that love is so much more than holding hands and going out. Love is more than just an intense experience. It is all those days in between, all the days of sitting down to dinner, of trying to wake the other one up, of calling to see when and where to meet, and of getting ready for bed in different parts of the bedroom. Love is about ordinary days as much as about the days that turn into future stories.

And it seems most of all I write this to remind myself of things I sometimes forget.

2007.08.06

20th High School Reunion

This past weekend was apparently my 20th High School reunion. I know this thanks to my friend Synnove who told (warned?) me about it a few weeks ago, though I didn’t remember. Not that I wanted to go. As I didn’t grow up in one place I really don’t have any special attachment to the place. In fact I have some fairly bitter memories of this particular high school. It was not friendly to outsiders despite being the local high school for the Air Force base we were stationed at.

But that’s neither here nor there. While I have no interest in seeing anyone except a handful of people from that time, I wish them no real ill. This is in stark contrast to journal entries of the time when I was wishing they’d all die and the school would burn down.

So congrats to them, I hope the weekend went well and old acquaintences were not forgot!

2007.07.02

Square Dance

It’s funny thinking about how the trauma of a childhood event affects behaviour even into adulthood.

In sixth grade we had a school event for the parents and teachers of the school. There were literally hundreds of people in the crowd and as most of them were parents they were watching us very intently. The part I played, along with several others, was a country dance called a square dance.

In my group was a girl I liked named Lisa. I was very excited to be in the group dancing with her. Once the music started I could see she was trying to tell me something but I couldn’t hear her. I fantasied that she was super impressed with my dancing skills and was trying to let me know. I had a huge grin on my face.

Afterwards I went into the hallway with some friends to cool off. Square dancing is quite invigorating. I saw Lisa coming down the hallway and was hoping she would compliment me on my dancing skills. Remember, I’m only about 11 or 12 at this time.

“Hi, Lisa.”

“Hi, Doug.”

“What did you think of the dance?” I asked.

“It was a lot of fun. Did you hear me yelling at you?”

“No, it was too loud.”

“I was trying to tell you your zipper was down the whole time.”

I looked down and sure enough, my zipper was completely open. Not just a little but a lot, as it can only happen on a comedy TV show. Only this was for real and this was me. I was so embarrassed that I ran away into the bathroom and hid. For years afterwards I didn’t wear pants with zippers and for extra measure I stopped tucking in my shirt. To this day I don’t like tucking in my shirt (though I will) and I still compulsively check my zipper.