Visiting Mr. Potter

Off to see Harry Potter this afternoon. I always thought a good story would involve Ron, Hermione, and Old Man Potter from It's a Wonderful Life. ("Say, that Hogwarts place would make a fine subdivision. Might have to poison those weird animals; drag their bodies into the lake. No one has to know. How 'bout it, kids?") Instead of a positive leader and friend, Old Man Potter would serve as a daily moral test. Wearing his Hogwarts uniform, riding around in a wheelchair - placing a broom under the wheelchair so he could cheat at Quidditch - Old Man Potter might prove more than a match for Voldemort and a thorny pest for Dumbledore. ("We could sell that sorting hat to a carnival; make a lot of dough. You only use it once a year. Keep it?!! Why that's a load of sentimental hogwash.")

Watch for Old Man Potter and the Magic Slum, coming soon somewhere.

Twilight Time

Netflix delivered the vampire film Twilight. I didn't even order it. A DVD showed up in my mailbox with a hand-written letter that said, "Don't cry, weakling." I'm not even sure what that means. But right now I'm wondering if the mailman might be responsible: given me a neighbor's movie and added that note. Mailman or psycho at Netflix? How to respond? Could there be a clue in the film? Is there a scene where a post man fights off a yappy dog, but fails to spot the vampire teenager that turns him into the undead? How am I responsible? More research is needed.

Baby, We Were Born to Use the Elliptical

That's my exercise world for the next two and a half months, along with swimming and various other non-running actions. As the leg mends and the new cartilage adjusts to knee life, I'm glad things have progressed so well and that no mistaken amputations or unauthorized organ harvesting have occurred - at least to me.

What's Up, Doc?

I've been waiting a few days to say that. My Monday appointment was scratched because the doctor drank too much at a "medical convention" and missed his flight. That's not true, but made better reading than "his flight was cancelled." Tomorrow morning I shall learn what exercises are permitted with the knee. I've been aqua running a few times and all has gone well. But a little more cardio is in order.

A friend and I are going to write a Da Vinci Code parody. I've been working through the book taking notes and am highly encouraged. Dan Brown's writing is really dry, garnished with cliches and, yet, over 40 million copies were sold. (One of them to me.) Possibly we can write something half as long, twice as bad, and sell 20 million copies. In any case, I'm spending money as if I'd already received the advance. That's known as unwarranted positive thinking. I believe it's the cornerstone of our nation's financial planning.

Webless Sunday

Yesterday, for the first time in a long while, I stayed off the Web. I actually got fidgety, like when I quit smoking. As my time online has increased over the last few years, I've found my attention span decreasing. I read fewer and fewer books and they tend to be short ones.

As my old t'ai chi instructor might've said: "You are unbalanced. You are also late with this month's payment. Be balanced. Write me a check. Or I'll kick your yang into the next time zone."

Birth of Acme Comedy Theatre

Bob Petrella reminded me that today (a Tuesday?) back in 1989, M.D. Sweeney held the first class for what-was-to-become the Acme Comedy Players. Present were Bob and myself, Sherri Stoner, Ken Segall, Jim Wickline, and possibly a few others from our days at the L.A. Connection. We worked out of a small theater on Tujunga Ave. in Studio City, just down the block from the restaurant where, in later years, Robert Blake shot his wife. (We hadn't much money so we never ate there. They could've shot a celebrity wife every week and we'd still be dining at 7-11.) Months passed as we worked on basic improvisational comedy, added a few more cast members (including Adam Carolla), and, that fall, commenced working on written sketches as Sweeney wanted us performing live shows beginning in early spring 1990. (Bob will know the date.)

My life was better in people and events from attending that wee improv group. Happy Birthday, Acme!

Nature of the Enemy

Soldiers in Afghanistan say the real enemy is the camel spider. These things are fast and like to fasten on the bellies of camels and goats - or the leg of a sleeping trooper. After numbing the area, the spiders feast and the victim doesn't feel a thing. Men in Colin's outfit packed rat traps to kill any that might wander around their position. Just another unsung military occupational hazard.

h/t: spiner507

Randy Beaman's Cool Army Stuff

Colin Wells and the Strykers will be hauling lots of high-tech gear into the field. Twenty-three years ago when Aliens released, the film depicted Space Marines equipped with fascinating gear-of-the-future. Now, we've surpassed them as our troops can enter battle and simultaneously watch Seinfeld reruns. "Kick ass and multi-task," the 21st century warrior's cry.

Why My Knee is Injured

My old home and neighborhood really gave my knee a work-out. There were stairs all over the place plus the yard was steeply graded. If I went for a walk or run around the block, I negotiated steep hills. No wonder I'm injured.

Marathon running only occupied the last three and a half years - with months off for an inflamed tendon, broken fifth metatarsal, and torn calf muscle. 

What does this mean? I blame my house and neighborhood. No lawsuits, but I'm starting a whispering campaign that they're intolerant of knees. Well, mine, anyway.

Almost 4:00 PM and Still No Jackson Coverage

For me. I just don't get it. Elvis didn't swing this kind of media saturation and neither did John Lennon. Both were higher up the music food chain than Michael Jackson. This was a very troubled man. Pills spilled out of his tummy at the autopsy. (Not that Elvis couldn't swallow a pharmacy in his day.) He built a pretend village and used real people as set dressing. He had sleep overs with little boys and employed a porn director as personal videographer. Yeah, he could sing and dance and was a huge hit back in the early Reagan years. R.I.P.

Let's leave air time for a good police chase, or hill fire or invasion by Nazi dinosaurs.

Rewrite

A long one today on my paying gig. Certainly this rewrite was more akin to assembling IKEA furniture—a meticulous following of directions. But now it's finished and in and I can relax, perhaps with Tropic Thunder.