4th Anniversary

Blogging erratically since 2005. My problems were different back then.

Emil Does Fresno

Sore achilles tendon and all.

As for me, I walked a mile this morning on the Griffith Park bridal trails in a blazing 14:36, then stretched out. As this is my step-back week, post-walk stretching took longer than the mile. No soreness in the knee. I practiced walking with a slight forward lean so that my feet land under me. Over striding is for the young and those with sufficient cartilage in both knees.

The Department Goes to Pot

An officer says 'high.'

h/t: failblog

Veteran's Day Shout Out

Thank you, one and all, for your service.

Shaken to the Core

Bollywood horror - it's different there.

h/t: N4S

Happy B-Day USMC

Celebrating 234 years of blowing things up and collecting exotic souvenirs. The rifles carried by the drill team are old M1's and weigh about ten pounds.

h/t: afneurope

Berlin Wall Fall Down

Happy 20th Anniversary to the dismantling of the Berlin Wall.

h/t: BrittanicaOnline

Walking and Writing Update

Saturday in the park, Griffith Park, that is. Walked 1.6 miles. Next week I'll walk a single mile 3x to ease back, then increase to 1.8 miles the following week. I'm used to walking during the week and having the place to my self, but there were groups of runners and walkers and cyclists everywhere and at once. I played a game, keeping an eye out for runners wearing gear from races I'd run, spotting an inaugural 2006 LA Half-Marathon and a 2007 Pacific Shoreline Half-Marathon. Met Ernesto for breakfast, than ran errands, came home and started on another story.

If I do a draft, set a story down, then do a draft on another, by the time I return to the first I've got answers to the more challenging sections.

Ten-in-Six Update: Five stories out. One has been rejected twice; another rejected once; and one is poised to sell, having made the first cut. (I'll know December 1.) I'm half-way to at least getting ten stories completed. Anyway, I'm having a pleasant, enjoyable experience. I hope you are too.

Trippy

h/t: SBARSTV

Another Walk

Around the grass field at the Rose Bowl. More t'ai chi before and after. One. six miles. Next week, I'll do a bit less and rest up.

Chat with my agent tomorrow about a sit-com I wrote this year. We haven't talked much since the big fires in August. But from what I've heard, things remain slow in the animation world.

Tom Ruegger notified me Carl Ballantine passed away. Carl did a voice on a first season Freakazoid segment called "Lawn Gnomes." We had a party that summer for the voice actors at a pizza parlor. Afterwards, Carl wanted to know what was for dessert. "Where's the @#$%&*# cake?" he asked. It fell to me to explain that we didn't have cake. "What kind of party doesn't have a@#$%&*# cake?" Clearly, he was hot for dessert and we'd dropped the ball. However, in non-cake matters, he was loose and funny and did a good job for us." Rest in peace and, hopefully, heaven has a rich dessert buffet.

NYC Race Report

Emil tells it like it was.

Marine Moment

As Project Valor IT rolls on, here's the USMC 1st Force Recon laser painting targets in Iraq.

h/t: TotenkopfSturmbann

My friend Kurt was in Marine Recon during Vietnam, operating in Laos along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. He learned to be very quiet.

Walk

And that's what I did yesterday - 1.6 miles on a soft dirt bridal trail at Griffith Park. A crew erected a large Christmas tree for the park's annual light show as I strolled past. I'm adding a little distance each week. When I can walk 3 miles without soreness, I'll try running a quarter mile or so.

Five years of t'ai chi really build up my quads and glutes. No wonder I wasn't injured on my first marathon. Now I'm practicing it again so as to build up my quads and glutes. There's a temptation to quit the whole rehabilitation thing and just eat. But then I'd start getting caught in doorways again. Forward, slowly, until my knee positively proves I can't run again. I believe I can.

Until then, I'm thinking of cancelling my subscription to Runner's World. The only section I read is food and diet.

Mmmmmm

A little shark-on-shark action from Oz as a ten-foot Great White gets munched by a 20-foot Great White.

h/t: ElectronicProphecy

USMC Moment

As part of my commitment to the Marine team of Project Valor IT, I'm asked to post something Marine-related for the duration of the contest. Here's a recent recruiting video:

h/t: maxwalsh92

Back in the fall of 1971, I prepared to join the Army. A high school pal was supposed to go along but his parents offered him a new car if he stayed home. (It worked.) Studying bored me, so I prepared to sign up solo. But one October day, I heard a couple of guys from the neighborhood were joining the Marines. I figured I'd go with them.

At the time, Vietnam was winding down. And while there were still weekly casualties, they were low and dropping lower as ground units were withdrawn. Still, the bloody years from 1965 to 1970 had left a bad taste in every one's psyche. (As I've mentioned, from Feb. 1968 to Oct. 1969, 500 Americans died every month.) My parents' hated the idea, especially my mother who pressured me to join the Navy or Air Force like my cousins. (Forgetting my cousin Danny joined the Navy to avoid the Army, got married after being told he wouldn't be sent to Vietnam, then found himself in bullet-riddled Saigon on the second day of the Tet Offensive.)

One day I came home from work and my sister said Chuck stopped by to talk me out of joining the Marines. Two years older than I, Chuck had amazing hand-eye coordination. My friends and I used to act as beaters for him, flushing rabbits out of the brush on a golf course in suburban Chicago. Chuck waited on the fairway and picked off fleeing rabbits with a bow and arrow. Amazing shot. Later a Marine, Chuck served in 'Nam as a door gunner on a helicopter, shooting other things. Whatever he'd seen and done over there, he hadn't cared for.

At eighteen, joining the Marines was the first major decision of my life. And here were my parents and an older guy from the neighborhood, whom I respected, trying to talk me out of it.

I was hot to go.

Run Around

A most active November 1st. Emil Cheng finished the New York City Marathon ("sore Achilles tendon and all") in 4 hours and thirty-nine minutes. This year's race was the largest in the world with 42k participants. My friend Rouman ran in 2008. He said you didn't want to be on the lower level of the Verrazano Bridge coming out of Staten Island. (People on the upper level piss down on you - accidentally, I'm sure.)

Out in Arizona, Kate Freeman ran her first 100 mile race at the Coyote Javelina, beginning yesterday and finishing this morning. A sterling effort by a real competitor.

Speaking of efforts, Meb Keflezighi became the first American since 1982 to win the New York City Marathon. He wouldn't let the Kenyans drop him, stayed up with the leader, then broke away, increasing his lead for the last few miles and speeding to victory. Movies released in 1982 included: Star Trek II: Wrath of Khan, The Twilight Zone, Rocky III, The Thing, and Road Warrior. I know this by heart since I worked midnights as a guard at a jewelry manufacturing plant, lived in a hot apartment, and went to the movies in the afternoon, more for the air conditioning than anything else. Afternoon movies in Hollywood during the early 80s will be the subject of another post once I think of something wholesome to say.

Happy Halloween!

h/t: riotactivities

Ryan Emotes

An acting choice.


h/t: TubbsTattsyrup

Project Valor IT

So what's the new widget in the upper right of the page? For the last few years, the military services have competed in a fundraiser called Project Valor IT. The money raised buys voice-activated laptops for wounded veterans. Not surprisingly, I'm on the Marine Team. Donate if you can and help out the vets. It's a way to say 'thanks' for their sacrifice - the highest form of patriotism.

Running, Walking and the Astounding Bob Petrella

Friend Emil continues to run like a man afire, having completed more marathons in four months than I did in four years. This Sunday he'll be dashing off from Staten Island with 40K other runners in the New York City Marathon. I'm sure he'll overcome sundry running dings to finish strong.

I now walk a mile 3x a week, on an all-weather track or grass. So far no pain. I do more warming up and stretching out than actually movement. It's like a barbecue where you have a plate with Cold Slaw, chips, and a hamburger bun covered in ketsup, but no meat. Not for awhile.

From Nightline to a soon-to-be-filmed 60 Minutes, Bob Petrella's amazing memory continues to attract media interest. I'm off to see Bob for lunch today to learn more about my past.

Dreams

Here's how they went:

I'm in an apartment, holding a high-tech nuclear bomb the size of a coffee thermos. I activate the bomb, set a timer, but then forget about it. Later, I pick up the bomb and wonder whether it even turned on. Then I hear a low-pitched hum. The bomb is indeed armed and an LED suddenly flashes to let me know I have a little over a minute until detonation. In a mad scramble, I look around for the directions that came with the bomb, hoping to stop the countdown. But I've thrown them out. In a panic, I consider running, but know I can't outrace the fireball. Then I feel ashamed, because my negligence has cost my neighbors, and most of Los Angeles, their lives. Leaving the bomb on a sofa, I walk into another room and wonder about the afterlife. I never hear the explosion, but there is a brilliant flash and what-seems-like filmy strips of brown material tearing and peeling away on either side of my eyes, revealing darkness surrounded by a corona of white light. I sense movement forward, toward judgement and rapidly consider my life, feeling inadequate as if I hadn't done enough good things and had wasted a great deal of time.

Suddenly, I'm inside a large mansion or office in England. I work here. I don't really fit in. Even though everyone speaks English, there are vague cultural differences that separate us. The place is bustling, people moving quickly here and there. I'm not really sure what my job is supposed to be, so I compensate by moving rapidly through hallways and open spaces converted into work spaces, nodding to those I pass, lost but striding confidently as if sure of my destination - a trick I picked up working for the government over the years.

Then I awoke. My wife stuck her head in the bedroom and said she was leaving for work and could I pick up the dry cleaning?

I think the message is clear: Don't blow up a major city or you'll die and go to work in England and be snubbed.
(Photo: eso-garden.com)

Sights and Sounds of Hollywood

With an armful of old eyeglasses, I visited my optometrist. He straightened out nose pads and arms before we settled on a new pair for close-up reading. Technically, this doctor is not my old optometrist, but a mentee who took over when my old guy retired - now filling his days with tennis and working in stained glass. However the office remains on Sunset in Hollywood, close to where I lived for many years. Hollywood was a dangerous dump when I moved there in 1979. I don't care how many multiplexes, Olympic clean-ups, hot night clubs, or tourist shops the place gets - it's still seedy. It seems metal fences and razor wire have multiplied over the years. There are streets so dystopian, they look like images from a first-person shooter video game. And it continues to attract the different.

As I was driving north toward Franklin, I stopped at a light. A young girl, early twenties, headed toward the crosswalk, all unisexed up in a man's dress shirt and tie, ball cap on sideways, tight jeans. Stepping off the curb, she passed a middle-aged Mexican guy with a shaved head, digging through a garbage bin and plucking out aluminum cans.

"You're recycling, recycling, recycling, that's so cool," she called. "I love you."

The Mexican guy lifted his head out of the garbage and called, "Yeah? Then kiss me."

But Unisex flounced across the street, head full of love, environmental purity, and cluelessness.

Ah, Hollywood: where the show never ends. Almost enough to make me nostalgic. Almost.

Interesting Thought

h/t: cooleono1

Bone's Back

A few years ago, Larry Blamire and friends decided to actually make a bad '50s sci-fi film from scratch - kinda like a tribute movie. The result was The Lost Skeleton of Cadavera.

h/t: vasova

And now, at long last:

h/t: loladog11

Cancer Claims Dale Woodson

Dale passed away two days ago. For almost three years I've chronicled his fight with cancer: here, here, here, and here. Seeing him every week, I watched the light in his eyes gradually diminish until finally, last Sunday, he was alive but no longer fully present. His struggle ended, but his family's burden remains as they wrestle with grief and the mundane tasks of dismantling a life's residue. Keep them in your prayers.

These last two weeks have been pretty sad.

But not as sad as the fear of Chuck Woolery.

Or the fate of a hapless burglar:

Little Boy Heroically Shoots, Mutilates Burglar

Just Like Family

Attended the service for Ashley's brother, Jamen. Sat near TNTers Van, Virginia and Kiley. TNT truly is like family: I only see them at weddings and funerals.

Walked one mile this morning around an all-weather track at a local high school. My friend Bernardette lives nearby and runs her morning workout there. So she joined me as we side-stepped the marching band, rehearsing under the directorship of a peevish man with a bullhorn. From what I could understand, they were given blue dots to mark their places. ("Everyone get on their dots. Aaron, I said get on your dot. Now. Run. Okay. I can be a lot harder, if that's what you want.")

I may pick up a few bucks writing for a website under a nom de plume - French for phony name. I'll know more today. I seem to be repeating my past: before animation, I was associate editor on a magazine and wrote many little articles. Maybe next month, I'll be a freshman in college.

Vid Shows Man vs Wild Fake

A sham survival show! But...but...how?

Glad

Glad to be around, glad to be here, glad all over, glad trash bags with drawstring tops, glad.

Free form good feelings for no particular reason.

Fallen Eagle

I didn't know Jamen. He was a young guy, former soccer player at Boston College and the brother of Team in Training teammate Ashley. Jamen died from lymphoma this Wednesday after a two-year battle. If it was possible for a sister to save a brother through sheer energy and devotion, than Jamen would still be around. After Ashley learned Jamen had lymphoma, she signed up to run the San Diego Marathon. Ashley raised enough money to finish third nationally, topping thousands of other fundraisers. (And ran a pretty good first marathon.) She returned for a second TNT season as a mentor. Jamen's initial treatment was successful and the disease went into remission, but it doubled back and finally got him. A great loss for the family. If nothing else, send along your best wishes and prayers.

In lieu of flowers, the family has requested donations to cancer research.

Big Old Finish

Finished the first draft of my no-longer-short story - it is now almost 60 pages of horror-suspense novella, over 12k words. (Pay by the word, do they?)

Had lunch with Dutch yesterday. His TV camera work has been slowing down to nothing, similar to my animation writing. (Which I now consider a hobby.) We're like leaves drifting to the bottom of the forest, en route to becoming mulch.

But we're both writing along with no one telling us what to put down or how. If not financially satisfying, it's liberating.

Beautiful fall day today. Blue skies, bit of haze, great diffused lighting. "Eatable light," I say. It's that good.

Soul Long

My good friend Eileen passed away on Monday. I visited last week, but she was fast asleep, body winding down. I believe this was a blessing.

Tiny Men Arise!

One has come from Nepal to claim the title of World's Smallest Man. Who will stand up to him?

h/t: Daley Gator

Oscar the Likable Ogre

Good friend Dutch has a story up at Ex Cathedra: The Second Doctrine about a small town's acceptance of an ogre who only eats unlikeable children. (Starts on p.61.)

No Snark Intended

Just a subtle reminder.

h/t: Tom Ruegger.

So Long, Physical Therapy

This was my last day at therapy. Since July, I'd gotten to know the assistants: two of the girls enjoyed Vegas, the office gal was a former dancer, while the main therapist was a triathlete who competed regularly. He said my future lies in weight loss and reverse lunges. (Building up quads and glutes for future running.) Starting next week, I'll walk a mile 3x a week, going by feel. Perhaps in January, I'll venture running a mile or so. Meanwhile, one of my short stories passed the first hurdle for a humor magazine. They're debating whether to include it in their upcoming December issue. That would be one down and nine to go on my sell-10-short stories-in-six-months plan. More info t/k when they say 'yes.'

Fast Mad Men

Here's a popular cable series for those short on time.

h/t: Landline TV

Chicago Marathon 2009

In 2007, the temperature was sultry. This year's Chicago Marathon saw the thermometer dip below 36 degrees with a stiff wind. Nevertheless, Kenyan Sammy Wanjiru set the course record at 2 hours, 5 minutes, and 41 seconds. Nothing slows these guys down. A fast Russian chick won the women's marathon, with American Deena Kastor, back from a broken foot, finishing sixth.

I hope they all had fine Italian beef sandwiches and deep dish pizza.

Go Rogers Park

My Rogers Park chums of forty-plus years are having a reunion today, celebrating everyone who is still around. Life no longer seems like a sure thing and I wish them the best.

Meanwhile, today at breakfast the waiter offered me a meal reserved only for seniors. I accepted, even though I'm a few years shy of the cut-off. As a teenager, I lied about my age to buy beer. Now I'm tacitly lying to get a cheaper breakfast. Maybe I should stop lying about my age? Alas, these cunning restaurants lay out senior menus that are nothing less than moral hazards. Born to be wild!

Double Down

Rewrite has expanded the story size. Once it was 25 pages, now it's 50, a shade over 10K words. But all is well as I try to finish by Sunday.

I'm getting carried away by this "pay-by-the-word" thing. Maybe it should be by the pound.

For Your Safety

Heed all warning signs.

What I Learned at the Dentist Office

1. My dentist knows all the songs on his office muzak and hums along.
2. His assistant just moved and doesn't have enough space to give the two boys their own rooms.
3. Female office staff refer to the building's basement as the "dungeon."
4. There is a leaking water pipe in the dungeon that is effecting phone service. Only a single line is operative.
5. The woman who handles billing loves animals and recently went to Las Vegas in order to see white tigers, lions, and a bird sanctuary that features rare species and video poker. (Just kidding about the rare species.)
6. The son of my dental hygienist has been offered a management position at Dreamworks Animation. (I asked her to guilt trip him into giving me work. Mom's are good at stuff like that.)
7. I'm really glad the government isn't in charge of my dental work.

Big Darn Rewrite

A new market opened, looking for material. I had a short-story that would be great, but it needed rewriting. Actually, not so much rewriting as additional stuff. So far, I've added 2,000 words of additional stuff turning a short story into a novelette. (Since this market pays by the word, that can't be all bad.) I'll probably spend next week polishing, then out it goes. Then another, then another. Writing, incidentally, is a great way to gain weight, giving new meaning to the phrase "pounding the keys."

Cover Up

What else has been hidden?

h/t: tikanda

How Many Do You Recall?

You Tube's 100 Top Viral Videos in 4 Minutes

h/t: Hadouken! via Hot Air

Important PSA

h/t: Moe Lane

Happy B-Day, Keeper!

A search engine, an email, some form of web crawler has informed me that it is Keeper's birthday today. Let the rag time ring out (as much as rag time can ring) to the man who plays upbeat piano and isn't afraid to sing like Elmer Fudd.

Torrid Riverside and a Lost YouTube Opportunity

Is Riverside County really that warm? I'll find out as we are scheduled to visit my cousin out that way this afternoon. With triple digit temperatures around home, they must be four or five digits out in the desert. In any case, I'm going. So that's settled.

I was hoping to post a fight video from last night, but the parties involved never got past the yelling stage. A guy cautioned a driver speeding down the street to slow up as there were kids playing. The driver didn't like being lectured. Harsh, non kid-friendly words were exchanged. But by the time I got my camera, the driver blinked first and drove off. Just as well. Still, I had excellent position for a great down angle shot.

There's plenty of high-drama in the neighborhood. Something active will occur soon.

Magazine Mania

Various magazines have been arriving lately: sample copies of publications I'd like to place a story in. What a wonderful excuse not to spend so much time online. Unfortunately, I'm still online. So are you. Well.

Dr. Lee Plays It Safe

Dr. Lee said no matter what I did, he wouldn't recommend running or walking for exercise anymore. This was his official, legal response. Then he acknowledged that someone in my condition might, in a month or so, cautiously begin testing his knee on a soft surface such as a local all-weather track. Things to Do: A. Lose weight - maybe 20 pounds. B. Strengthen left glute and quad - weakness there contributed to the injury. C. Learn to race walk/run with my foot landing under center - no more overstriding. D. Once I begin, limit myself to three run/walks a week with cross-training in-between. Dr. Lee and I parted with the understanding that I'd be guided by my body and would back-off or retire should there be any persistent pain. A murky athletic future, to be sure. But if I do all the above and still have knee pain, I can release running secure in the knowledge I did my best. God bless marathon running. It arrived in my life at a time when I needed something. If it is departing now, I wish it well and hope the marathon lands with favor on someone new looking for a good test. Or sore feet. They'll get both.

Best of the Worst

Yes, he sells books by the long ton, but can Dan Brown write? Dutch tells me a British newspaper has weighed in.