I got some shit to say. And I'm lazy.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

there were...

A bunch of old folks at work today, celebrating 'Grandparent's Day' at the museum. At first I was highly annoyed with the olde tyme jug and fiddle band and the hordes of AARP members who with their tweeting hearing aids were disrupting my usual Tuesday solitude.

But then a group of them stood up and boogied down to some starry eyed old standard.

And I got criminally happy and teary with joy.

I can only hope that one day I will be able to do the same thing, shaking my withered old tail feather to the hits of my day. Instead of Benny Goodman, Jimmy Rodgers and Cab Calloway it will be Outkast, Ryan Adams, and Snoop Dogg.

My wish is that we will all be able to do this someday, and show up those young whipper snappers. Moments like this are so fleeting and beautiful, it's hard to not be overwhelmed with joy and wonderment.

Sometimes life can sooooo fucking suck a fuck. For instance, I had to tell a big truth yesterday that deeply hurt me and someone very dear to me. But I know in the end it was the right thing for everyone, no matter how bad it hurts today. And moments like that totally validate the good moments, the ones that come from out of nowhere and knock you around for all the right reasons. I guess what I'm getting at is that even when I'm drinking through all the tears, life is truly something else.

Forgive the purple prose. Blame it on the sassafrasses shaking their withered asses.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Coming To A Theatre Near You!

How's this for awesome ratings?
What's My Blog Rated? From Mingle2 - Online Dating

Mingle2 - Online Dating

What makes it even more awesome is that this is blog entry #69.

Friday, June 15, 2007

The Right Way to Celebrate; Puro Vida

First off, all the respect in the world to the definitive basketball team of the last ten years, my hometown San Antonio Spurs!!!

Secondly, I was accussed of not being a real fan last night by some idiot-erudite- east-coast-philosphy-professor-schmucko. I guess because as the buzzer sounded my fist pump and rash of both incoming and outgoing phone calls to Puro San Antonians hither and yawn was somehow not quite jack assy enough. I should have whooped it up more in a public place, taunted the losing team's fans, and then let everyone know JUST. HOW. MUCH. I. CARE.

Sorry jerk face, but that's not the San Antonio way. We celebrate with class, dignity, and respect for the losing team's fans. Anyone who is close to me knows why the Spurs mean so much to me. Don't think I didn't go home from the bar and dance around all night as I packed to go out west this morning singing quietly to myself, 'Go Spurs Go!' Maybe I should have reminded everyone at the bar I was a philosophy professor every chance I got. Oh wait, sorry, that was you.

The Spurs somehow got labeled a boring team sometime around 2000 and it's stuck ever since. The evidence is clearer than ever that this is simply not true, what with Tony Parker slashing and cutting, Manu Ginobnli defying the laws of physics, and Robert Horry playing his heart out at 38. But guess what? Casual fans, much like America in general, are ill-informed and make snap judgement calls. A casual observer will read one article on something and decide it must be fact. Which is not to say we should all dedicate twenty hours a week to finding out the truth in regards to professional basketball, but, if some guy from ESPN says Tim Duncan's boring because he doesn't get flashy and scream and fight, then so be it. It must be true, right?

It's also because there are no histronics, there are no thugs, there are no jersey popping, chest thumping fools out there taking ill advised three point shots. The Spurs, much like San Antonio itself, quitely just get the job done. They leave the whooping and posturing to other folks, other teams, other towns. I take pride in them for that, and definitely have a chip on my shoulder about the lack of respect they get from the media at large, if only because as a an artist, I can relate.
I'm very concerned that my work is taken for granted.

It's good to know that my fandom, at the very least, is being called in to question. At least SOMEONE'S talking about me, right?

but that's not what this is all about.
this is:

Congrats Spurs. You've EARNED it. Don't let anyone tell YA'LL otherwise.
(i know you won't.)

Sunday, June 03, 2007

My Career In Learning Up A Child; Moustache Month Draws To An End

Few people know this, but I briefly taught high school back in San Antonio before moving up to the big city. It was a last minute, emergency type situation, and I was thrown under a bus that is high school elective classes. I taught speech and composition in a portable class room out by the football field in the middle of August. Our air condtioning went out on a regular basis, and it was hell trying to keep the kids settled down. Our textbooks took six weeks to get there, I was under constant attack from the football coaches to pass their players, and parents interest in their children's education seemed to border on the lacksadaiscal. In short, there was no 'To Sir With Love' happening on the south side of San Antonio.

I recently came across one of the papers of a student of mine, who shall remain nameless. Little prick was a football player whose average, if done correctly, would have come out to a 37 for the semester. I was pleaded with and cajoled by the football coaches to let him slide, to let him do anything to make a passing mark. I finally acquiesced and allowed him to turn in, two weeks late, no less, his final project, which was a persuasive paper on any topic of his choosing. Many of the students did their best with the paper, and the subjects ranged from why to vote for Al Gore (it was 2000) to why Vince Carter was the best basketball player ever. Mr. X's paper was on the topic of 'Why People Shouldn't Talk Shit.' I was rooting through some old scripts last week and happened upon it. I have faithfully reprinted it, without correcting sentence structure or grammatical errors, below.

'My topic for my 9 weeks final speech is I don't like people who talk shit. I don't like people who talk shit.

My first reason why I dont like people who talks hit is they can't backit up like some punk XXXXXX XXXXX he talks alot of shit like he calls me a pus*y and then I go up to him ad say 'What,' and he just punks out real quick.

My second resaosn why I dont like people sho talk shit is because they thing thiere hard ad there not like first thellze all had and then theyll just punk out like shi*.

My last ad final reason why I dont like people who talk shit is because people act all hard but their not ad I think you should just act like the person that you really are ad act like you noramlly act cause you aint hard you punk b*tch.

These are my resons why I hate people who talk a lot of shit. Thank you!'

I wish I could say that I made this up, but I didn't. I hope there will be no liberal mamby pamby wishy washiness about the state of education and how we could let our children get to the age of 16 without a basic understanding of the English language and the written word. I agree whole heartedly, but I also think that education starts in the home and teachers and administrators can't be held accountable for every single thing that's wrong with our children.

And I don't feel guilty about posting this. This particular kid threatened me any number of times and I had to have him suspended once. He and his friends caused me no end of problems in trying to reach out to the kids who did want to learn. But Mr. X raises an interesting point that I think we should consider more and more. Namely, all you shit talkers out there better beware, because we know you're gonna punk out real quick.

Enough said.

Now, a little nod to the men of MoMA's May is for moustache month party!

Muy Sensualidad!

Not to be outdone, the ladies of the lobby get in on the 'stache action!

As the sun sets on another May, we bid a fond farewell to this cabron's bigote.
Let it ride!