The Ten Commandments of Bowieism

I. I, will be King, and you, you will be Queen

II. Thou shalt put on thy red shoes and dance the blues

III. Thou Shalt turn and face the strange ch-ch-changes

IV. Thou Shalt take thy protein pills and put thy helmet on

V. Thou Shalt get me to the church on time

VI. Thou Shalt not lean on me, man, 'cause you can't afford the ticket

VII. Thou Shalt not let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel

VIII. Thou Shalt let the children lose it

IX. Thou Shalt let the children use it

X. Thou Shalt let all the children boogie

Ziggy Stardust is our sexually promiscuous, sexually ambiguous prophet. He is our leper messiah - the all-seeing, all-knowing human embodiment of an alien lifeform, here to bring us a message of peace. love and rock n' roll in the last five years of our existence on this planet.

So begins the Ziggah, the Bowieist bible:

In the beginning, Ziggy played guitar...

Abbrev.

A dear friend recently mentioned that she thought my blog posts are too long. I had forgotten that most people (including myself at times) have short attention spans and that when writing texts there is around a 200-word limit, after which you start to lose people's interest in what you're saying. And true, I tend to be unnecessarily wordy when writing; a regular John Kerry of blogging, if you will.

Well as a wise man once said, "frankly, my dear, I dont give a damn." If I wanted to write to entertain the masses I would have majored in literature or journalism. But since I'm feeling compassionate and somewhat lazy on this Sunday afternoon, I will condense today's planned blog post to a microcosm of what it would have been, using as few words as possible. Enjoy...

What deal Padres? Start great, now no runs. Offense suck. Shit pitching. Roster full scrubs. Surprise surprise. Same song dance. Fan 25 years. Love team since baby. Qualcomm Petco second home. Endless suffering. Fans deserve better. Me not happy. When Charger season start?

Am I right?

**It just occurred to me whlie proof-reading this that that was a really long-winded way to open a post about abbreviating my writing. Hahaha...**

Emili-NO!

As a young(er) man, a few exceedingly kind people told me that I reminded them of my idol James Dean. Needless to say, this comparison was exceptionally flattering, albeit almost laughable in it's inaccuracy. However, at some point between 21 and the ripe-old age of 25 it appears something occured that significantly distorted my features - My guess would be the Chargers' heart-breaking, gut-wrenching, spirit-crushing 2007 playoff loss to the New England Patriots, which caused my jaw to unhinge and drop to the floor, my eyes to pop out of their sockets, and several veins in my forehead to bulge uncontrollably for a number of hours...

In any case, despite the fact those all-too-kind references to Dean's image have stopped in recent years, the celebrity comparisons have not ceased altogether. No no, now those parallels are drawn to a very different icon of the silver screen. While nowadays I rarely hear any more about the Rebel Without a Cause, fortunately I get enough Coach Bombay and Andrew Clark comparisons to fill this void. That's right, apparently I look just like this guy...

..Yep. I'm the spitting image of 1980's Emilio Estevez. Hoo-ray. **said in the most unenthusiastic tone possible**

Personally, I have never seen the resemblance, but others do. In fact, just this week I've gotten "You look just like Emilio Estevez in 'The Outsiders!'" and "...when I first started going to class, I was trying to remember your name and I told Thurman 'The guy who looks like Emilio Estevez, only young and not playing hockey.'" Since I guess there's no denying it any longer, I might as well embrace my Emilio-ness. So in the spirit of embracing it (and because I just love making lists), here are the...

Top 5 Things Emilio Estevez and I Have in Common (besides our unmistakable likeness):

1. I am an actor who currently makes no money acting; Emilio Estevez is an actor who currently makes no money acting.

2. Emilio Estevez is 5'5" tall; I was once 5'5" tall... when I was 12 years old.

3. Emilio Estevez's younger brother stars on the show Two and a Half Men every week on ABC; my younger brother smokes two and a half joints every day at UCSC.

4. Emilio Estevez has a mother named Janet who is credited as a producer for the movie Beverly Hills Brats; I have a friend named Janet who has probably never seen the movie Beverly Hills Brats.

5. Emilio Estevez worked with a crazy motherf*cker named Tom Cruise in the movie The Outsiders; I worked with a crazy motherf*cker named Stephen Baldwin in the movie To the Wall.

There ya have it - we're one in the same...

..."I was like, 'EMILIO!!!'"

DWBA: Driving While Being an Ass

In the near 8 months I've now spent in the darkest depths of hell...errrr...driving on the I-5, 405 and 101 freeways in Los Angeles, I've discovered a startling fact: exactly 66.6 % of the drivers in the City of Angels are complete ASSES.

Those guilty of DWBA, or "Driving While Being an ASS" (also known as "Driving Under the Influence of Idiocy") can generally be broken into two distinct categories: ASSHOLES and DUMBASSES. For your pleasure, I will now break down the characteristics of each of these groups - both of which elicit feelings of unspeakable rage from me on a daily basis, often prompting me to kick puppies and punch small children. And now...

The ASSHOLE

The ASSHOLE has one clear objective in mind: to get to his/her (usually his) destination as quickly as possible without paying any mind whatsoever to the safety and general well-being of others on the road. Likely behind the wheel of his luxury car or Sport Utility Vehicle, the ASSHOLE is easily identified by his eagerness to weave in and out of traffic (often without using his turn signal) as if it's actually going to get him to where he needs to be significantly faster. His preferred method of communication is blaring his horn as long as possible to express his displeasure at not getting to his destination quickly enough. He is also often found driving 25+ miles over the speed limit and tailgating you despite the fact that you're already going 80 and despite the fact he could easily just go around you if he wanted. But he doesn't; he is, of course, an asshole. Need to merge over to the right or left to exit or enter the freeway? Well tough shit! - the ASSHOLE isn't gonna let you. He's got places to be (pronto!) and he sure as hell isn't gonna let your ass get him there .00001 seconds later! The high level of frustration he causes others on the highway can only be surpassed by...

The DUMBASS

Oh, the poor poor dumbass; he/she (more commonly she) just doesn't know any better. Behind the wheel of her coupe she is oblivious and lost, plain and simple. You know that person who insists on entering the carpool lane and then proceeds to drive slower than traffic in the non-carpool lanes? This is the DUMBASS at work. Often she may also be spotted in your blind spot (if you could even see her there!), directly in front of you (after she cuts you off), or driving 4-6 miles down the freeway with her turn signal, unknowingly, on the entire time. But she is perhaps most recognizable when blocking traffic: Driving down a busy street DUMBASS sees a person getting ready to leave their parking spot along the side of the road, so she flips on her signal and makes the decision to take it. To her this is a seemingly harmless decision... except for the fact that, in doing so, she has parked herself right smack in the middle of a congested lane. DUMBASS has now created a line of two dozen pissed-off drivers behind her who are now forced to wait for her to make a feeble attempt at parallel parking (They would try to merge over to the left, but ASSHOLE won't let them!) ...Oh, and you know those "Do Not Block Intersection" signs? Well DUMBASS simply cannot see and/or comprehend these.

So there you have it - the reason why I dread pulling out of my parking garage in Burbank every day. Should you ever have the misfortune of having to make the trek to L.A. in a motor vehicle, never underestimate the callousness and stupidity of the ASSHOLE and the DUMBASS, respectively.

...And, in some (dangerous) rare cases - the DUMBASSHOLE!

What is "common courtesy?"

**DISCLAIMER** In the following I am not directly referring to anyone that I even remotely think would read this blog, so no worries, y'all! That's not how I roll. Also, I've tried to make my last several posts positive and upbeat after noticing that I was reverting to snide and smart-alecky a bit too often. However, recent events have made this post necessary (for my mental health) to write...

Well, for starters, it's showing up for something to which you have RSVP'd.

What a concept, huh? Making a committment to other people that you will be at a certain place at a certain time, and then actually following through with it! Sure, unforeseen events pop up from time to time that prevent you from being at said place at said time. Such events are inevitable - you had to work late, you had car trouble, you felt like you were coming down with something, you had to wash your hair, what have you... However, when such things occur the courteous human being contacts the person to whom they have made the committment to let them know why they will not be at the event they have pledged to attend; the thoughtless individual makes no such effort whatsoever.

Which helps segue nicely into my next point: wanna know how to make a good person feel like an asshole? Easy! Just ignore their attempts at communicating with you. Whether it's by phone call, text message, facebook message, snail mail or singing telegram, simply do not acknowledge that you received any of these things from the person you intend to make feel like an idiot...

(***Haha, oh boy. It should be noted that at this point in writing the post my cell phone buzzed, informing me that I had a message from the very individual who most inspired it. His/her explanation didn't exactly blow me away, but he/she did seem to show some genuine remorse and offered to make it up to me. I am more than willing to forgive and forget. Nonetheless, for the purpose of getting this grievance out of my system entirely, I will continue my rant...***)

...You'll leave them in an awkward state of total bewilderment, wondering "shit, did I do something wrong? ...was it something I said?" ...when, in reality, the only thing they actually did do wrong was making a genuine attempt to be friends with your inconsiderate ass.

I apologize for the bitter tone of this post, but carelessness in regard to the feelings of other human beings is very likely my biggest pet peeve in the world. I do not appreciate being made to feel like I'm an asshole because I know for a fact that I am not one. My mother taught me from a very young age what it means to be a thoughtful and considerate person, as I imagine most mothers did. And when I see this type of behavior amongst people that I really like and care about, needless to say, it troubles me greatly. Period.



......sooo how 'bout them Padres!?

The Ex- Factor

They say "a picture is worth a thousand words." I wonder how many words this one is worth...

There aren't too many things pertaining to myself that I'm overly "proud of", per se, but one of the things that I do take a certain amount of pride in can be found in this snapshot. The fact that I'm dancing with not one but two lovely ladies on my 25th birthday this past weekend? No... The fact that the lovely ladies with whom I'm dancing just happen to be the very two women in my life that I've dated for periods of two years and three months? Yes.

Indeed, I'm simply overjoyed that I've been able to maintain close friendships with both Raechyl (left, May '03-Sep. '05) and Lisa Marie (right, Mar. '06-Jun. '08). Far too often I see friends on bitter and nasty terms with their ex's, often on a 'non-speaking' status. Such is not the case with these girls and me. I think the great respect we still hold for each other is truly a statement of how much we respected each other when we were together, which is very likely why things ended so well in both cases. It is for precisely this reason that referring to them as "ex's" often makes me cringe; "good friends (who I once dated)" would be the preferred label.

It also says quite a bit about the character of both women. I mean, the fact that they even showed up for their ex-boyfriend's birthday is pretty cool. That they then went out of their way to be cordial and make friends with each other is downright awesome. And the fact that they then proceeded to throw any potential awkwardness out the window and sandwich him on the dancefloor for fun is beyond-words amazing. It isn't difficult to see that these are two remarkable and exceptionally mature people who I'm very lucky to have in my life.

Several people in attendance got a good laugh out of this, and rightfully so - it sure ain't something you see every day, right? But, fortunately, in my case it is something I see every day: for the past 14+ years I've been blessed to have a mother, father and stepfather who have the utmost respect for one another and have continuously shown nothing but kindness to each other for the greater part of my life. This is likely the reason I don't find the superb state of my relationships with Raechyl and Lisa Marie particularly strange.

In essence, retaining past loves as best friends is indeed possible and I am very pleased to be a case in point... So how many words was that?

In other news, I find the inability of some people I consider friends to demonstrate the slightest ounce of common courtesy at times absolutely baffling. But that is a different topic for a different blog post, I suppose...

That thing

Ever gotten a gift from someone that said everything? Something that was just so unmistakably you that you knew the person who gave it to you truly knew you and appreciated you better than just about anyone? I'm not necessarily talking about a diamond necklace or a Rolex watch (things anyone would enjoy), but more likely some little trinket that might cost next to nothing, yet is something you absolutely love or represents something you absolutely love; a gift so appropriate and special that, when thinking about the remarkable thought put into giving it to you, it almost brings you to tears. Only once do I recall having received such a gift.

Don't get me wrong, I've been given some incredibly generous and thoughtful things from friends and family over the years on birthdays, Christmases, graduations etc... for which I am very grateful; everything from iPod's to GPS's to nifty cell phones to primo Padres' seats. (It also must be noted that I'm not even a fan of receiving gifts in the first place; they often make me feel awkward and I much prefer giving them.) But in recent memory, only once do I remember being given that one thing that was so astonishingly mindful and showed such a thorough understaning of me as a person that it knocked me off my feet.

It was from my great-uncle Donnie in St. Louis and he sent it to me for my college graduation. He is an actor himself, he has performed onstage and on-screen and taught acting for several decades, and was kind enough to send me his copy of Shakespeare's Complete Works from the 1940's. His notes from years long passed still scribbled inside, he had held it dear since being a young actor in the USO in the Pacific during World War II. There he befriended another young actor named Raymond Burr, who later earned fame and fortune as television's Perry Mason.

When you open the cover of my great-uncle's Complete Works, on the first page it reads,

To Don
Happy Birthday
Raymond Burr

It was a gift given to him from his would-be famous actor friend. He read it and cherished it for over sixty years, then he gave it to me because he knew how much I would appreciate it. And it is truly invaluable to me. The book itself looks like a Bible, and it has been my Bible ever since having received it.

With my birthday fast approacing, I've been wondering if there exists anything that could potentially have as profound an impact on me as Great-Uncle Donnie's gift. I've discovered that there is at least one thing that would. It's something that encapsulates several of the things I'm most passionate about and is something I've desperately wanted for quite a long time but have never gotten. What is it? It's nothing more than a movie... but a splendiferous one! Which one, you ask?

Well, if you insist...