public service announcement

"The game is rigged, man. We like those little bitches on the chessboard." - Bodie

And with that, the fourth season of HBO's "The Wire" has come to a close. It's brilliant. Incredibly brilliant. So amazing I think it may be the best season of any television show ever. I've talked it up a bit here and other places, but really, I'm hard-pressed to think of anything that holds up this well.

Seriously, if you have access to it, or HBO On Demand (or a receiver that works * sob *), check out all 13 hours. It's a committment, but if you don't get to the end of it and say, "Holy shit," I'll eat my hat. Not my Red Sox hat, because I like it and it's possibly sweaty, but something I haven't worn in a while. Still, hat.

frak

I swear to you, I was all ready to sing the praises of the television experience these days. I just spent the last three weeks or so catching up on the first two seasons of Battlestar Galatica. I borrowed season one from a friend, and then ordered the two season two sets off of DVD Deep Discount. It's not only a terrific sci-fi show (which are few and far between), but a great show period. After I finished season two on Friday, I was all ready to begin watching season three on my DVR, which I've been stockpiling on the machine since they started airing in October. Can you imagine watching television in such a way five years ago?

And then this morning the DVR died. Frak frak frakity frak frak. I didn't cry, but I came close. Thankfully, the show will have a marathon in a few weeks.

Incidently, for those of you who have seen BSG (and I'd recommend it, as it's really sharp at times), I, for one, would like to welcome our new robot overlords.

"secular progressives"

I was watching this O'Reilly Factor clip off Pundit's site. About midway through an interview with Dem. Senator Barney Frank, "Papa Bear" gets in a heated arguement about the "secular progressives" attempt to place high taxes on the rich to redistribute the wealth to the poor.

Hmmm, who was the first guy that had that wacky idea of the rich helping the poor? Oh yeah, JESUS. There it is in Matthew's parable about the Rich Young Man, as Jesus tells a guy: "Sell what you have and give it to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven."

I tell ya, those progressives with their crazy secular ideas.

me grimlock no like Michael Bay's direction

Me Grimlock no like complain. All Internet does is complain. Not me Grimlock, me no dork. But me Grimlock not help but notice lack of me Grimlock in Michael Bay’s new action extravaganza Transformers.

Me no understand what problem is. Me Grimlock dinosaur. Me Grimlock robot. Me Grimlock giant. Who no like giant robot dinosaur? Why no put in movie? Movies with giants, robots and dinosaurs make everybody rich. Star Wars had robots in it and very big in America and Japan, just like Transformers. Jurassic Park made Steven Spielberg so much money, Kate Capshaw marry Jew. King Kong made lots of money, even with silly skate scene in Central Park. Snarl only one who liked that scene, but Snarl big girl at heart.

Then me Grimlock hear instead of all robots, Michael Bay want more carbon-based lifeforms in the movie. He want more human connection for fleshlings who see movie. That idea more stupid than little robots that transform into robot heads. Carbon-based lifeforms all fleshy and no transform. Where drama in that? If fleshlings get in me Grimlock’s way, me Grimlock stomp on them and get foot sticky like pudding. That no fun. It also remind fleshy ones watching movie in theater that floor is gross.

No get me Grimlock wrong, me Grimlock like Michael Bay movies cause no need long attention span. Michael Bay even put robot dinosaurs in past movies, like Sean Connery in Rock. Me Grimlock’s favorite Michael Bay movie Armageddon cause fleshy humans stopping meteor from stomping Earth very funny in me Dinobot eyes.

Fleshlings only ruin Transformers movie. Look at first Transformers movie in 1985. Worst part of movie was small fleshling. And me Grimlock not saving day by stomping Orson Wells. Those two things not in new Transformers movie. That why me Grimlock join all Internet in not seeing new movie. Judd Nelson will be proud of me Grimlock.

Producers think they fool me Grimlock into liking movie, but me Grimlock no fool. They hold contest to decide what Optimus Prime should say in movie. Me Grimlock enter. Prime should say, “Me Prime wish Grimlock here because me Prime terrible at leadership, battle and cooking!” No surprise, producer no like me Grimlock’s idea. Me Grimlock like to bash producer brains in.

Autobot Jazz say me Grimlock should try make new movie about Grimlock instead of stomping producer. Me Grimlock like idea, but then Swoop say Jazz already in Transformers movie. No funny, Jazz! Michael Bay want black transformer in movie, but no retarded robot dinosaur? Swoop told me Grimlock black characters in movie cause of affirmative action. Well, no one more affirmative on action than me Grimlock. Me Grimlock king of action! Affirmative!

The news make me Grimlock angry and stomp Bernie Mac like pudding, cause he in new movie and he black too. But Slag say Bernie Mac play fleshy one, not Jazz, so me Grimlock sorry. Mostly for chocolate pudding on foot.

Putting me Grimlock in “Transformers” movie mean everybody see green. Me Grimlock not actually green, me Grimlock meant green as in cash. See what me Grimlock did there, me Grimlock make pretty funny joke. Laugh or me Grimlock slice you with energo-sword. Laugh, fleshlings! Remember Bill Cosby say always room for more pudding.

dave cockrum died

Who is Dave Cockrum and why should I care? He's one of the guys - the artist - who helped revive the low-selling X-Men title in the mid-70s with new characters like Storm, Nightcrawler, Colossus and a dude who only appeared twice in another title by the name of Wolverine that eventually turned into a cash-making machine for Marvel a few years later.



I'm not a super X-Men fan. I used to read the books in the 80s and early 90s before their popularity got to a point where there were 10 different spinoff titles published every month, each with deliberetly confusing and mysterious storylines that made it impossible to keep up. Imagine if there were five "Lost" spinoffs, and you had to watch all of them. That's annoying. Still, I always had a softspot for the X-Men, occasionally dipping my toes back in for the movies and video games. Cockrum helped create two of my favorite members - Nightcrawler and Colossus - so I'm taking the moment to tell you about him and why I think he's pretty cool.

Mark Evanier's blog News From Me has a much better writeup about Dave, so check it out if you're so inclined.

back

I've been off the blogging thing for a bit but I'm back now. I spent the Thanksgiving week in Flordia with the in-laws (that just sounds weird), so it's a whole thing of getting ready to take a week off, taking a week off, and then catching up from the week off. So it's a been a bit hectic.

I've been working on my projects a lot as well. I submitted two humor pieces in the past month, one to McSweeney's and another to Mad Magazine. The McSweeney's piece was rejected, and after looking around the Web for possible sites/media that would be interested in a op-ed piece by a retarded robot dinosaur, I found none. That's so weird, isn't it? (And by the way, The Onion does not accept unsolicited material, so phooey on them). Anyway, I'm going to post it here as a point of reference, and maybe the musings of Grimlock the Dinobot will find an audience somewhere on the magical World Wide Web.

I haven't heard anything from Mad, so I thinking no on that. But I have to say, they have one of the better form letters for submissions I've ever seen.

I'm working on some other things as well. Unfortunately, none of which was on National Novel Writing Month. My plan was to sketch out a plot based very loosely on the events of my own life (primarly the death of my dad) as a way for me to easily write something around a structure. However, I found I kept writing too much about my own life and the structure never really went anywhere, so eventually, I tripped myself up with self-doubt, got ideas for other things, and moved on. I don't really feel that bad about it as I'm working on other creative avenues and putting feelers out there, so it's not like I haven't been unproductive. I'll probably give it another shot next year.

So yeah, the Grimlock piece to come as well as the oddball joke or two I've devised recently.

it's good to have goals

So with the Republican party rebounding from last week's trouncing, they decided to return to its core roots. How? By reelecting Trent Lott to a top leadership post in the Senate.

It's nice to see the Republicans returning to its roots. Racist roots to be sure, but hey, you have to admire the committment.

yep, defintely a "drink to bliss" kinda day

Dems win the House! Rumsfeld steps down! It's like Christmas came two months early!

News like this fills me with such joy, it makes me want to out and marry two Mexican men, abort their adoptive fetus for the purposes of stem cell research and then tax them for everything! HUZZAH!

I like this choice comment from the president today: "Somehow it's seeped in their conscience that, you know, my attitude was just simply Stay the course." Yeah, why would anybody think the administration wanted to stay the course?



I think the funniest part of the Rumsfeld thing is that if they did this a week early, they may have likely kept control of Congress.

enough with the foreplay

Sorry I missed this little nugget of information, but Bass Pro allowed Buffalo to get to first base, again.

"The Bass Pro founder, who first saw the Aud's exterior during a social trip to Buffalo in the late 1990s, has toured the interior of the building on at least four other occasions. Bass Pro engineers and designers have made several additional visits."

So this dude has been at least five times to look at the building? What exactly did he learn on this last visit that he didn't figure out in the previous decade? "Hmm, this place needs cleaning up. Should we do that or tear the whole thing down?" Wasn't that the original question two or three years ago? The city is really breaking some land-air speed records in getting this deal signed, I tell ya. I admire the foolish optimism of the Erie County Harbor Committee representative, who should know something about those speed records, in predicting that something will happen before the end of the year. Dude, you're still on the first date!

You know what Buffalo? Have you ever considered the possibility that Bass Pro is just not that into you? Especially when the founder uses terms like "awesome?"

Buffalo's a great city and all, I just wish whomever works out these development deals didn't spread their legs quicker than a two-bit Cantonese whore. And I mean no offense to the Cantonese whores out there that happen to be reading this.

Election Day

I'm guessing that the handful of you that will read this are already making plans to vote ... so yeah. Happy Tuesday.

I recall two years ago after several co-workers hassled me like my favorite sports team lost, I went to see the original "Saw" movie in the afternoon, as performing a self-amputation is about how I felt that day. I may or may not post tomorrow, depending on the results. I'm thinking either it's "drink myself into bliss for celebration" or "drink myself into stupior in mourning" kinda day.

You were a good balloon, Charlie Brown

They're eliminating the Charlie Brown balloon from the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade according to this article along with Kermit. In its place is flying Snoopy, one of the Pokeman characters and the Energizer Bunny.

I'm a little depressed that a corporate icon is going up there. Charlie Brown depressed. I guess it's a sign of the times.

it ain't right

Don't get me wrong, I love Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. In fact, it may be my favorite piece of candy ever. Whenever I have a bag of Reese's (slightly chilled from the fridge) and a tall glass of milk, I'm a happy man. Whomever put chocolate and peanut butter together ranks higher in my eyes than Thomas Edison.

But I'm staring at a Inside Out Reese's cup at work. It's the one where they put the peanut butter on the outside and the chocolate inside. There's something very, very unnatural about it, like somebody who has his organs on the outside.

A thought before Election Day

Right now I have a president of the United States, two United States senators, one United States congressman, a governor, a state senator, a state assemblyman, a county executive, a county legislator, a mayor, a common council member and a common council president, all elected to represent me. That's just the executive and legislative branches. There's also judges, state supreme court justices, sheriffs, district attorney, attorney generals and the like I have to vote for. Let's not even bring up political committee delegates.

As best as I can figure, I live in the 27th district, the 60th district, the 11th district and either the 141st or the 144th district, depending on my interpretation of the helpful district maps offered on the state Web site. As a City of Buffalo resident, I believe I live in the Delaware district, if I'm reading the somewhat imprecise map the city Web site offers me correctly.

There are three different state assembly people in my zip code. There are two different congressional representatives in my zip code. I actually had to look up my nine-digit zip code to figure out which congressional district I'm in (I was sure I was in Brian Higgins district, but it could have been the alcohol). In fact, the apartments across the hall from mine have a different nine-digit zip code than me.

That's a lot of people to keep track of. And during election season, you have to double that at least. I work in the media, and even I can't keep up with all this stuff, so I can't imagine Johnny Suburb having much luck with it.

Government may be too big.

One month. 50,000 words. It's gonna be crap.

So I'm chugging along, working up some ideas for stories in various formats that I would like to do. A three-act play here, a script for a mockmentary there. Basically, just some diddling as I get my creative muscles working.

And then I came along this site: National Novel Writing Month. Basically, it gives all writers one simple, daunting challenge: Write an entire book, or at least 50,000 words, in a one-month period from Nov. 1 to 30.

I'm gonna do it. Why? Because I'm stupid.

Actually, I'd like to think my reasons are well-intentioned. One of the things that always trips me up as a writer, as I'm sure trips up thousands of other would-be authors, is that everytime you sit down and look at that blank page, all you think about is the masterworks that inspired you to try one of these things in the first place, whether it's Jane Austen, William Shakespeare, Alan Moore or whomever. I keep thinking whatever comes out of my head is going to suck compared to those writers, so I stop.

I figure I'm never going to get better doing that. Eventually, I'm going to have to work out a complete story as a first draft, and then I can go back and rewrite to make it something that, while it may not be good, at least not suck.

So National Novel Writing Month is probably the kind of thing I'm looking for. There's a goal and a deadline. It's all about pouring every little messed up thing in your head onto the page as quickly as possible. If I'm lucky, I'll have something on Dec. 1 that I can work with, touching up the story into something I'm proud of. If I'm not lucky, I can always think that at least I finished something, while learning more about the process of writing.

Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

The 10 O'Clock News

ON. THE. LIST.

For deciding to cut off the end of last night's "Veronica Mars" because you couldn't wait THREE FREAKING MINUTES to break in with the whole "Erie County is a federal disaster site" mess.

Also On The List? Tom Reynolds, just because I was watching one of my favorite TV shows only to see the sweaty mug of a human being I detest pop up suddenly. I'm not sure if it was his decision to start the press conference early, but he's SUSPECT.

TCM's The Underground

I sort of stumbled upon this Web ad for TCM's showing of the original "Night of the Living Dead" this Friday night at 2 a.m. Further research indicates that it's part of a new film series on Turner Classic Movies called the Underground, celebrating old trashy, nutty horror movies. They don't have a schedule up for beyond this week, but previous shows included a bunch of Russ Meyer movies like "Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill!"

I've never seen a Russ Meyer movie, but I've got nothing to lose now. I've already seen the worst horror movie ever.

Oh, and the whole series is hosted by Rob Zombie.

On a related note, a DVR and a station guide to Turner Classic Movies is thousands of dollars cheaper than film school and a lot more fun to boot.

the nerf sniper rifle

I may have to get one of these. You know, for the office.

movies! (an actual review)

So I finished watching "The Grudge" recently. I was always kinda interested in the flick, basically because the visuals looked pretty nifty from the trailers I saw. Granted, I was never interested enough to get up off my ass to go to a theater or a video store, but still, it was one of those movies I always kept in the back of my mind to see.

So, why now? Well, it's Halloween season, the sequel just came out, and I can watch the flick on HBO OnDemand for free. Let's roll 'em!

My god, what an utter piece of shit. It's got atmosphere, I'll give it that, but this was one of the biggest, steamiest piles of turds I've ever seen float across my television screen. Well, I think it was a turd. It might have been the flowing hair that seems to come out of dark corners, but I like to think of it as actual turds because it allows me to retain my sanity.

By the way, spoilers ahoy, but believe me, I'm doing you a favor.

Here's my issue with the movie, and it's a big one: The Big Bad, a womanly ghost that kills everybody in the movie, has no rules. By which I mean a given set of parameters that allows the audience to understand the Big Bad's powers, what she can or can't do, to set up how everybody gets killed. In "The Ring," you watch the videotape, and you have a week to show it to somebody else or Cousin It comes out of the TV screen and gets you (of course, you have to figure out yourself you have to show it to somebody else). In "Saw," the Big Bad himself just tells you what you have to do to get out of his traps, even if it usually means losing a body part in the process. Yeah, I get all that. In "The Grudge," the curse is set on you whenever you walk into this house where a mother and a son were killed, and there's really nothing you can do to stop it. Nothing. So why what a movie where the Big Bad is completely unstoppable? That's what I'm asking myself right now.

I'll give you a few examples. A woman, who is the sister of the current occupant of the house and has been over for tea, is working late in her office. She starts getting phone calls and weird vibes from the Big Bad (which I'll keep referring to because I'm not sure she has a name. There's only 15 minutes of dialogue in the whole movie). So she runs home scared and locks the door.

She gets another phone call from her brother (which the audience knows is now dead). Apparently he's outside the door. She opens the door and there's nobody there. The Big Bad gets her a few minutes later in her bed. The impression we're supposed to get is that you have to let the Big Bad in before she can take you. But how does she suddenly show up at the office? Nobody let her in, as far as we've seen. That is what the people in the critic business refer to as a PLOT HOLE.

What's irritating is that this whole movie is full of them. Every five minutes there's a contradiction from what we were previously shown. This can get annoying, because nothing makes any sense. The Big Bad can slowly come after you, or you can turn around and there she is a second later. She'll show up in your bed without warning or slowly stalk down the hall towards you. The Big Bad can do anything and everything! The audience is given no information how to beat her! They do, towards the end, attempt to burn the haunted house down, but we never actually see what fire does to the Big Bad because they cut away a second later. So it's fairly anticlimactic when she shows up three minutes later in the final frame. In other words, THERE IS NO RESOLUTION TO THE MOVIE.

Hell, the Friday the 13th movies and the like are pretty crappy flicks in my opinion, but at least they set up the ground rules. This is one of the worst movies I've ever seen. How does "The Grudge" get a sequel? And why did people get fooled into buying tickets a second time?

spam spam spam spam

I just received this one at work entitled "Banality." As I writer, I feel you have to open those e-mails because you're always worried they're talking about your work, which in my case, may be entirely possible.

But no, it's about something ... well, I have no idea what it's about. It's like getting an e-mail from Borat.

"break guttural competently anomalous
Check A R S S right now, stockjobbers drop the price, it's time to get in
and get profit!
inform inordinately washbasin cosmetic"

When I read "stockjobbers," I immedately thought of nameless stockbrokers who always lose money quickly to the bigger profit guys like Donald Trump or somebody. But that could be the wrestling fan in me thinking.

book review

I just finished "Great Expecations." I thought it would be better.

the day I became a man

What a wacky couple of days. Luckily, our apartment never lost power, so we woke up Friday morning as wide-eyed as kids hoping for snow days. And we got one! Julie and I then proceeded to spend most of the day watching TV and occasionally taking phone calls from our moms, both of whom lost power.

I think I wandered outside to clean off my car late in the afternoon, and it was my first chance to get a feel for how nasty it was for myself. Our complex has a lot of trees, and all of them were destroyed, or at least damaged. Thankfully, I used a bit of rare foresight for myself on Thursday when I decided it was not a good idea to park underneath a tree.

We got more phone calls from our moms, and something about removing water from their sump pumps. Hey, I don't our my mom's basement flooded, I got my comics down there! Finally, my mom broke down on Friday night and said I have to come over, because she's been at this sump pump thing all day and she's exhausted.

Taking buckets of water out of a hole in the ground occasionally doesn't sound that bad. Yeah, it is.

Bailing water out every 15 minutes sucks. The water never stops coming! I would be dumping five five-gallons worth of water out of the ground at a time and it looks like I barely made a dent. If anybody fell asleep for more than 30 minutes, the basement floods! It feels like being one of the button-pushers on "Lost," with the added gift of sore arms and backs.

Julie's mother was going through the same thing. Thankfully, she lives in a duplex with her friend on the other side, so they were taking shifts through the night. I was at my mom's in Lancaster until late Friday night ... yeah, that's right, fuck you driving ban! ... and then drove back to Buffalo. I'd be up by 5:30 a.m. to head back to Lancaster for another shift.

How does one occupy yourself inbetween bouts of water dumping? My laptop has a battery life of about 3.5 hours, which meant I was able to get through six episodes of Arrested Development S3 with the DVD player. After the laptop was done, I listed to WBEN for a while, and two thoughts occurred to me ... One, why does every weather related event have to have a catchy media nickname? Yeah, kiss my ass, "October Surprise!" Two, and this happened when hearing a commercial about external batteries for sump pumps, I figured out such a device could be useful to me right about now. Especially when the radio reports that it could be a week before power is restored.

My mother woke up later Saturday morning, and then mentioned to me that my father actually has a gas-engine generator sitting in the garage. Um, what?

First, I'd like to explain something about myself. My dad was always good with the mechanics, while I was the book guy. I was an English major. I've lived in apartments for most of my adult life, which means I have a Mitch Hedberg philosophy to maintenance: I don't have to do shit.

But the revelation that there's a generator sitting upstairs baffled me. See, you have to run the generator outside because of the carbon monoxide (Hey, I worked that out myself!) However, the plug on the sump pump is telling me that I can't connect to an extension cord if it isn't a grounded circuit, which might have well be written in French for all the good it does me. I'm really, really out of my element when it comes to this stuff. Fuck the trains leaving at 1 and 3 bullshit they put on the SATs, why don't they have questions like how to use a generator outside to power the essential things downstairs using a grounded circuit?

While my mom attempts to track down the instruction manual for this generator, I shove off for a few hours to acquire a pair of sump pump batteries (yeah, nice try Mark) and check in with Julie's mother. They have now enlisted a third party to help with the bailing of their pump. She also managed to have somebody deliver a generator later that day. So while the bailing is handled over there, I grab a shovel to clear out the driveway of snow. Fortunately, it was actually very nice on Saturday afternoon, so much of the snow was beginning to melt. Unfortunately, plows left a good five foot pile of the cold stuff at the foot of the driveway. Between shoveling and the bailing, I was enduring Dickins-like backbreaking labor here.

My mom calls me and she's found the generator manual. Hurray! But while I take that break, my mother-in-law decides to clear the afore-mentioned five-foot pile of snow by driving over it with her Landrover. Didn't really work. You'll have to excuse her, this is her first winter dealing with this snow stuff by herself. Anyway, I have my handy excuse to bail out of there and back to my mom's place.

So remember that bit about the grounding circuit? According to the manual, the generator's already grounded! How exciting. After a few more trial-and-error moments (mainly, I put too much oil into the damn thing), we got the generator fired up. A few extension cords later, we connected it to the sump pump, which immediately began draining the water, and there was much rejoicing. I think I even heard angels sing. Lo, today was the day an English major got a gas engine to work.

After I jumped in the car, guess what was playing on the radio? Big Pimping. Awww yeah.

By the time I got back over to my mother-in-law's, several people have come over to help with the driveway and the bailing. A few minutes later, the generator came. Three guys were around to put it together, and considering that even I was able to figure this whole thing out, I felt my work here is done. My Catholic brain needed beer.

Remind me to buy two sump pump batteries (whenever they become available again) for future needs. And a home guide to electrical systems and appliances, because unless audio/video cables are needed, I'm a total idiot.

playwriting

I was going to check out Studio Arena's open house for theater school this Saturday morning, but a closer look at the release shows that it's pretty much just acting classes for the fall. As The Dude would say, "It's a bummer, man." Less about the class as some kind of magic bullet, but rather getting into a format that forces me to produce something every week. Plus, I would have liked to pick up some tips.

I'll probably stop down anyway, just to touch base with somebody over there that might point me in the right direction in terms of writing a play, or anything in general.

The Departed

Just got back from a showing of the new Martin Scorsese flick "The Departed," with Jack Nicholson, Matt Damon, Leonardo Decaprio, Alec Baldwin, Martin Sheen and Mark Walhberg. That's a pretty impressive cast, but I'm pleased to say the movie kicks ass. There's a lot going on in the movie and it's filled with some pretty mindblowing twists, but they all flow logically thanks to Scorsese's direction. The actors are all solid, even DiCaprio, who didn't impress me all that much in "Gangs of the New York." It's one of the better Nicholson performances in a while, as he dials down the Jack stuff for the most part except for one scene. I totally recommend this ... it's one of the best movies I've seen this year, and contender for THE best.

By the way, whomever Matt Damon's agent is should get some kind of raise. We saw a preview for another movie of his coming up, "The Good Shepherd," directed and starring Robert DeNiro with Angelina Jolie, Joe Pesci, William Hurt and Billy Crudup. Is there anybody in Hollywood that's worked with the kind of directors he has with the cast of stars he's with? It's pretty impressive.

joke of the day

Why don't congressmen use bookmarks? Because you don't need them when you bend over pages.

i'm so trendy!

My first official post from my brand spanking new MacBook! It's a pretty exciting time over here at Mild-Mannered central. It's not only my first laptop, but after spending all of my professional career, plus most of my academic years, on a Mac while I endured viriuses and crashes at home, it's my first personal Mac computer.

I realize this would excite nobody besides myself and probably my wife, but it's my blog and I'll cry if I want to.

boob tube thoughts

After watching three episodes of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, my first impression is that the dialogue pops and is wonderful to listen to. On the other hand, there are a lot of shots taken towards organized religion. “A lot” as in it’s been a major subplot of every episode thus far, and I’m wondering if this is all Studio 60 has to say.

I feel like I’m in a weird middle ground on this. First of all, I happen to work within one of those organized religions. On one hand, I’ve never been too impressed with the lectures we all receive from the loudest voices of religion … guys like Pat Robinson, Jerry Falwell and William Donohue turn up the volume on anybody who disagrees with them or with their way of life, which destroys any reasoned analysis we may receive on spirituality. When I think of “What Would Jesus Do,” pictures of them do not pop into my head.

However, I’ve found in my experience the vast majority of people in churches, temples or whatever denominational building they’re in at the time do not have an extreme reaction like the ones that get all the press. They believe in a set of morals, they believe that there is a better way. They go to church every week, or sometimes, or not at all, but they think there is something out there that is beyond our human understanding. Some people have faith because it gives them hope they can see and talk to people they loved and lost. For whatever reason that gets them through the doors, they all have one thing in common: they have faith.

I firmly believe that for all the crap organized religion gets, whether it be pro-life supporters shooting abortion doctors, televised evangelical preachers publicly calling for the assassination or people sexually abusing minors, the vast majority of the people who attend services are good people. They donate to charities, they help out at the food pantry. They volunteer. They do this at the religious building, because … well, there are not a lot of public places in the community that offers so many one-stop shop options to be a better person. And it makes them feel better about themselves. Is that really so awful?

I realize that when Aaron Sorkin writes about representatives from Rapture Magazine ambushing network executives, he’s rebelling against a reactionary, fanatical sect that manage to be the killjoys at every party. Lord knows, they get the most press. But to make it such a prominent part of the show with stuff like the Crazy Christians, the sketch so genius we will never see it, or whatever-game-show-that-mocks-religious-beliefs-whose-name-escapes-me-at-the-moment that was on Monday’s episode is a bit of a turn off. Yes, Mr. Sorkin, people who support Intelligent Design over hard science are ridiculous, I agree with you. But to make people with religious beliefs the punch line of every other joke is not only an attack on them, but it becomes an attack on reasonable people who happen to be religious. I’m fairly cynical, but I’m starting to feel uncomfortable watching this.

There is one character, Harriet, that is religious, and is presented fairly positively. Initially it felt like she was thrown in as a way to deflect criticism that the show is anti-religious, but on Monday’s episode she had an interesting comment. The scene involved making a joke about how some rural community in Michigan (or Ohio or some other flyover state) cancelled a high-school production of Grease because parents thought it was too racy. Harriet wants to can the joke, saying something to the effect of, “I’m making millions of dollars and these people are just trying to raise their kids. Why am I making fun of them?”

That’s a question I’d like to pose to this show. Believe me, I completely understand you’re frustrated and angry with how the Christian Collation, the Moral Majority and the like have taken over the country and demonized anybody who disagrees with them, but I wish the producers did not fight fire with fire in this case. It’s not going to win the hearts and minds of people in the pews, which is still the vast majority of the country, whatever their denomination. It only makes agnostics, atheists and liberals who piss on all things god feel better about themselves. Which may be what Sorkin is going for, but I don't think helps resolve the whole red state-blue state nonsense.

Hopefully the next few episodes will be less Crazy Christians and more “why am I making fun of them?"

cat's out of the bag

Local Congressman Tom Reynolds contacted Mild-Mannered Blogger! early Wednesday morning to grant me an exclusive interview. It seemed an odd request to me at the time, seeing as how two or three people read the blog, plus I’m not even in his district. Still, he wanted to clear the air.

“What about,” I asked. He replied it was in regards to his role in Rep. Mark Foley’s alleged sexual comments to a 15-year-old congressional page.

“Oh,” I said. “I haven’t heard a thing about that.”

Anyway, I do some research and head off to the office where he’s located for the interview. I walk into the room, and he’s surrounded himself with kittens.



Aw, lookie at the lil pumpkin! Yer so cute! Yer so cute! Come’ere and let me give you a big old hug!

Ahem.

I managed to pull whatever journalist balls I have left in me to hammer him with some questions, because the people demand to know his role in this scandal with a month left in the election cycle. But first, I politely asked him to have the bunch of kittens leave the room to discuss a human issue.

“Well, I’ll take your questions, but I’m not going to ask any of my kittens to leave the room.”

When asked where did the kittens come from, he noted that a number of them are from the community.

Just as I tried to get a third serious question out, this little fella found a ball of string and won me over.



Aw, lookie at whatca doin! Whatca got there? Whatca got there? Yer just a big bowl of cute, that’s what you are!

UPDATE: Shortly after posting this message, the Reynolds office called to blame me for photographing the congressman with kittens and making them a part of the story. They also said Democrats, who hate kittens, sent him the box of kittens, but Rep. Reynolds showed he is above partisanship by accepting the kittens. It didn’t make sense to me either.

ummm....

Former Congressman Mark Foley, who resigned last week over charges he was sexually harrassing a 15-year-old congressional page and recently entered rehab for alcoholism, is now saying he was molested by a priest when he was a boy.

That's got to be a hat trick of some kind.

JLB Assemble!

I'm linking to this post Elly posted today for several reasons. First of all, I'm a big fan of the city's mansions. I had my wedding reception in one, and I've been to events at several others, and they're magnificent. I've never been to an event or invited to the Miller Mansion, but I'd like to. How do you get on the list? I've never been to Tally Ho (really!), nor do I make a lot of money, so I suspect my options for getting on the guest list are somewhat limited. I need to find some rich friends that would get married there, perhaps.

Anyhoo, any project that spruces up Buffalo's best houses and mansions is good news by me, so I'm excited to see what everybody comes up with.

The second reason I linked to the article is, quite frankly, less inspiring. Since I am not a woman, I cannot join the Junior League of Buffalo, but they seem to do fine work. Really, I'm amused by the name. Specifically, the initials, as it reminds me of this.

What can I say? I’ve read a lot of comic books in my time. A lot.

unity does not mean "shut up while we do this"

So, lots of people on the news are talking about that Bill Clinton interview, and to hear these anchors say it, our former president lost his mind after Fox News reporter Chris Wallace asked, "Why didn't you do more to catch Bin Laden." He's "combative." He's "defensive." Whatever you got to do to downplay the actual content of the interview.

Say what you want, Clinton makes several great points, including why Fox News isn't asking this very same question of the Bush administration, the same group of people that didn't even mention the guy in public for two years. But apparently even a former president of the United States can't call out Fox News for being decisively pro-Bush. Even Rush Limbaugh was working himself up into a frothy rage, trying to remember the last time any member of an administration got a little pushy with an interviewer. He couldn't come up with any, so I'd like to help him.



And now I'm reading over the wire that Condi Rice is going after Clinton for the remarks he made. Really? Is this the same woman that got the memo in August 2001 that bin Laden was going to attack us soon and did nothing? I'm sure the bin Laden trail is red hot now, Condi, considering the United States intelligence community cannot confirm or deny the report that the dude who planned the worst terrorist attack in our country's history may have died of natural causes.

Our intelligence community has to wait for bin Laden to make another videotape to find out if he's alive or not. That's how close they are to finding him. Read that last bit over again, lather it up, rinse and repeat. I'm so glad our country is safer with these people in charge.

Also, while I'm feeling particularly liberal today, Jerry Falwell, if you really want to compare elected leaders, flesh-and-blood humans mind you, to Satan himself, I think you're a bit late to that party.

31

Yep.

yay hyperbole

I hope the Bills aren't making the same mistake as the local media in totally underestimating the Jets. I've seen bits and pieces of the Jets game this year, and they're not awful. They're a team that was expected to be terrible, and kinda surprised people a bit when they played two competitive games, one of which was a loss to the Patriots. Yeah, that sounds familiar, doesn't it?

The local sports scene, however, seems to be of two minds on the subject: Bills lose, "When is it going to get better?" Bills win: "We can make the playoffs!" If WGR and broadcast reporters had a superpower for expecations, it would be lightning-fast mood swings.

The Bills looked better than I thought they would in the past two games, but there were a couple moments when I cringed. I hope they beat the Jets, they have the tools to beat the Jets, but they haven't beaten the Jets yet. Nor have they beaten the Vikings next week. They're not 3-1 yet, folks.

"you can't fight city hall"

In the words of Lance Storm, if I could be serious for a moment ...

I was reading this article by Brian Meyer in today's Buffalo News, and I can't help but be bewildered about why the deputy mayor thinks he would have a better idea of building security than the people who work in building security. Well, if you do think that Casey's just a control freak and a political animal, then it would explain a lot, but those are only allegations. We don't want to smear anybody with an unfair reputation here at Mild-Mannered Blog headquarters. I did, however, take that story in concert with the announcement this week that Mayor Byron Brown wants to assert more control over which public workers are talking to the press.

The sense I get from the Brown administration is that they really want to make the city a better place to live, at least compared to Masiello, who was governing by the seat of his pants. The negotiating stance with the Seneca Casino and the intent apply more pressure to the city's gangs are but two of the examples of his strength here. However, I also see a strong desire (perhaps driven by Steve Casey, Brown's right hand man) to clamp down the controls of the city so the Brown administration, or those that subscribe to it, will be in power for a very, very long time. That contradiction (genuine intent to help, but also making sure you're around for a while) is what fascinates and annoys me about American politics.

In a related matter, all this does is make me love HBO's "The Wire" even more. I'm a big advocate of this program, and I really think if "New Buffalo" is serious about transforming this great city, they really, really need to watch this show. Season one was a long-form televised crime novel about the police department's investigation into drug dealers in Baltimore’s lower-income areas, but since then, it has incorporated unions, city politics and the school system into the show, basically showing how every institution has an impact on each other and how we live. It's become a show about the dark underbelly of the American dream, the places nobody likes to think or talk about. It's a show about people who work within, rebel against and are crushed by "the system." The brilliance of the show is that it shows how everybody is taught that battling "the system," be it in city hall or a street corner, results in losing. That's not a cheery thought, I know, but it also shows that just because we're taught "You can't fight city hall," doesn't mean we have to believe it or live that way. I've covered local municipalities for almost a decade now, and I'm constantly amazed on how accurate "The Wire" feels. At times, it's incredibly shocking, and provokes the kind of anger you get from watching "When the Levees Broke" or "Flipped." Season four just started, and there's a lot of press about how it's the best show on television. That's a lot of hype to live up to, and I'm obviously hyping this a lot right now. I will say this about "The Wire," though: There is not a more challenging and complex television program right now that so accurately captures what it's like to be living in America, right here, right now. In fact, nothing even comes close.

holy efficiency!

GOTHAM CITY – WHAM! BIFF! POW! And most definitely ZOOM, after Wayne Enterprises announced it has developed the first ever hybrid Batmobile for Gotham’s greatest masked crimefighter, the Batman.

The new vehicle, which will average about 40-50 miles per gallon (except when the Batchute is employed), will make turbine engines a thing of the past. Wayne Enterprises inventor and Chairman Lucius Fox told reporters Wednesday the new Batmobile will offer a “stealth-like” quality when the engine is off, allowing the Dynamic Duo to slowly creep up on criminals. Fox suggested the newest version of the famed vehicle goes from 0-60 miles per hour in about two minutes.

However, Wayne Enterprises CEO Bruce Wayne aggressively denied Batman would make all his Bat-gadgets environmentally friendly.

“It’s not like Batman is going to ditch the aerosol-based Batmace anytime soon,” Wayne said. “When you’re fighting for your life, you don’t have time to worry if a can of mace is going to work. Some of these guys weigh over 300 pounds, and Batman is not Superman. You need to mace, disarm and tie goons up real quick.”

Wayne added, “From my understanding of the crime-fighting process, that is.”

When asked if Batman would use the hybrid Batmobile exclusively or continue driving the stealth Hummer most recently seen saving Katie Holmes’ life, Wayne became somewhat disgruntled.

“It’s a Batmobile, not a Hummer, and damn straight he’ll keep it,” Wayne corrected reporters on Wednesday. “Listen, change is good, but let’s not go crazy. Batman is Batman because criminals are a superstitious, cowardly lot, and no two-bit thug I know ever shit his pants because a Prius is coasting down the road. Batman is not a pussy.

“Besides, Robin made Batman do the hybrid-vehicle because he said it was cutting edge, plus his butler pointed out the tax breaks are pretty good. Uh, at least, that’s what I hear.”

From most accounts, Wayne’s analysis proved to be correct, as penguins and mad hatters laughed city-wide over the announcement. When reached for comment at Arkham Asylum, the Joker wondered if Batman had to plug the Batmobile in every night. When told a hybrid is a gas-electric engine model that requires no recharge, the Joker then added he plans on adding urine to it the next time he sees the car, paraphrasing.

However, not all of Gotham’s criminals laughed at the new plan. Two-Face held a press-conference Thursday afternoon to announce his decision whether or not to support Batman, in his ecologically-sound crime fighting quest, via coin flip. When the silver dollar came up heads, Two-Face came out in favor of the new Batmobile, and then announced he will be using the Canadian two-dollar coin from now on in honor of all the money Batman will save on gas.

the fourteenth-reincarnated deity at UB

In case you've been trapped under a large object for the past few days (and if you were, why would you be surfing the Web? Call for help, damnit!), the Dalai Lama rolled into town yesterday on his party bus for a few days at UB.

I went to yesterday's interfaith service, which was nice but fairly unorganized. The Lama, though - you gotta hand it to the guy, he took it all in stride. After some of the readings were screwed up, he gets up to the podium and says, "There's so much precision (in these things), but sometimes a little difficulty is good."

Also, "Angels come from different directions to bless us ... or something like that." That is one laid-back guy.

Apparently it applies to his schedule too. Us press people like to gather around and gossip like old hens before the event, and rumor has it that the Lama is the kind of guy scheduled to give an address that could go anywhere from 10 minutes to six hours, depending on whatever mood he's in. And everybody else just rolls with it. So it's either "Cancel the rest of my day because I'm going to continue talking with these fine people right here" or "I'm thinking of peanut butter ... it's time to go."

So what's the first thing that hits me as I hear about the Lama making his days up by the seat of his spiritually-illuminated pants? That dude sure ain't married.

let the wookie win

Man, I didn't know Chewie and Lando were that tight.

Crap

You know how every once in a while you have a hankering for some kind of food? Ice cream, pizza, a burger from Fuddrucker's?

Well, this morning I woke up like that. I totally picked the wrong day to want a Steak in the Grass, I tell ya.

Nothing's going to stop us now

So we're starting to track down candidate names and address here at work, and I've been assigned to find out where Congressman Brian Higgins' opponent, Republican Michael McHale, mchails from. Now, I realize there have been reports that the dude recently declared bankrupcy and Steve McQueen'ed somebody who may or may not be related to Dennis Gorski, but you'd never know it from the visual dazzle that is his campaign Web site.

Oh, wait, that's right, he doesn't actually have one, or at least one anybody knows the address to. One would think that in a era of Google, running a campaign for a federal congressional district would at least require one silly home page from geocities.com or something, but perhaps McHale is playing a deeper game than we all realize. Yes, sir, it's a play right out of Decision 1980, and I suspect it's going to be a long two months.

I tried calling the local Republican headquarters office for an address for McHale, but they don't have one either. "However, feel free to send it here and we'll be sure he gets it." Man, you can smell the success on this guy, yeah?

In other news, John Donnelly, Congresswoman Louise Slaughter's archfoe come November, has a Web site and a blog. He even wished the congresswoman a happy birthday. And no, it wasn't followed with any "cut the cake and run" advice from Donnelly for the longtime Democrat. Though it would have been awesome if he did.

Mailing list fun

I don't necessarily agree with all the positions my employer takes, but I believe as an organization, they generally mean well. I'm certainly always up for a well-mannered (even mild-mannered!) debate about the various issues they advocate.

So being an employee of this particular organization, I often get put on random e-mail lists. After some time (like, a day) you begin to realize that the people that take the time to search the Web for whatever related e-mail address they can find to add to their list are not really the type of people up for any debate on any subject. There's God's Law and then there's everything else you're going to hell for. It's not really spam ... after all, I tried to tell my mailbox it is spam, but it keeps coming so it must not be spam, I guess. It's really grassroots advocacy ... they find topics and issues they're passionate about and write about it to the groups they assume would sympathize with them.

But every once in a while, they put the wrong person's e-mail address on there who thinks they're total loonies. Which would be me.

Take Michael F. Brennan for example. Rare is the day I come into work and not find at least a couple e-mails from him and his particular organization, the Anti-Fascism Americans Group. Michael is from the Rochester area, I believe, given the number of e-mails I get from him that link articles from the Rochester paper. But the last outrage that has his panties in a bunch is the transgender teacher from Batavia having the unmitigated gall to want to keep her (his?) job. Now, let's ignore the fact that if I changed genders over the summer, working in a high school environment would not make my top five list of "Jobs that would Improve My Self-Esteem," but if that's the road the teacher wants to go down, good luck with it.

Anyway, this afternoon I received another e-mail from Michael and his group, the Anti-Fascism Americans Group, which, in case you haven't figured out, is also called A-FAG. Yeah, I didn't make that up. The subject heading was PHOTOS OPPOSING FASCISTS. Which strikes me as odd, you know, because photos can show many things, but they really can't oppose fascists. People can oppose fascists. I think even groups can oppose fascists. But certainly not photos. How will they stand up for themselves? They have no voices! I mean, yeah, photos can be used as an art form to say things to people, but you can't put a phone up to a photo and expect a thrilling conversation on the other side. It's insane!

Plus fascists, being fascists and all, tend to bring down the hammer on their opponents. How could photos survive that? Sometimes, fascists will even frame their enemies! Sounds like photos are being set up for just that. What kind of fight for freedom is that?

Yes, this is what I often think when I read subject lines like that. It's the kind of thing that only encourages me to open up the message to see if there's more fun to be had.

Inside the message are four pictures with the note: "Here's a few pics. I need to adjust the color on all the photos." Here's the first one:



Now, the first thing I thought of when I saw that photo was, "Yes, the color definitely needs to be adjusted. Needs less crazy."

The other thing I'm thinking is that this guy obviously had a great sign to get himself on TV, but didn't really think about what the sign says about him. There's no hint that "A-FAG" is only an acronym, just that it's two words and shouldn't be hyphenated (I looked it up). So he's essentially saying to the world, "I'm a homosexual." Hey, if he is, cool, because there's no better way to come out than on the local news. Second and third lines: "opposes fascism." Well, duh. Who doesn't oppose fascism (besides photos)? And I'd imagine the gay and lesbian community have a lot to lose under fascist rule, so they'd be the first in line against it. A fag opposes fascism! Yes, it makes sense!

The third thing about the photo I thought of was, "Shit, Spencer's whipping McFarland's ass."

Unfortunately, e-mails prior to this reveal that A-FAG are actually against the school district for not allow parents to transfer their children out of the transgender teacher's class. Understandably, an out-of-context photo may strike the wrong impression of the group's statement here, so it's a good there's a lot of e-mail room to explain it to people. Except they don't. There's three other photos, but they all kinda suck (again, needs color adjustment apparently). And that's it. All we got is "A fag opposes fascism." And who would disagree with that? Nazis, that's who.

While I was writing this, I got another e-mail from Michael: "FASCIST UPDATE" YES! Perhaps it will contain more content to sell their argument, or at the very least, give me an update on fascists worldwide so I can be on the lookout. But no, it's the exact same e-mail as before. The photos still need color adjustment. Mike, enough with the foreplay.

A third e-mail arrives, all in the span of 15 minutes. UPDATE ON FASCIST OPPOSITION. Don't tease me, Brennan. Oh, look, the photos have finally been color adjusted. Still too much crazy, but it's a start! But it's all of the same dude with his "A-FAG OPPOSES FASCISM." It's just the one guy, from all appearances. Listen, if I want an update on fascist opposition, there should be at least two people, you know, or you're just wasting my time.

By the way, the mission statement of A-FAG is "That the bureaucrats know we know that they know we know." Which I read three times fast, and it blew my mind. I may need a Pepsi.

Random aside of the day

You ever notice how the people that crow the most about the Bible are the ones that conveniently forget the vast majority of the book is about being kind to your fellow man and helping the poor?

Where we been and where we're going

The president is supposed to speak tomorrow about 9/11. It may be a classy tribute, but knowing how the Bush administration works, he will probably allude to anybody who doesn't back him 100 percent as people who "cut and run," "appease Nazis," or whatever stupid catchphrase they come up with this week to demonize their opponents. Just last week, the president surrounded himself with the families of 9/11 victims as he took another step towards secret trials and torture as official U.S. policy. I wonder what the hell has happened?

Midterm elections are a few short weeks from now, and I'm pretty angry at the Federal Government right now. My problems with the current administration ebb and flow like the tide, with emotions ranging from righteous indignation to laughter, simply because I cannot believe some of the things that has come out of the White House. But I'm pretty frustrated with the national Democratic Party, most of whom offer nothing but knee-jerk reactions to administration policy. As bad as the president is, John Kerry proved that you need something more than "I'm not Bush" to inspire the American people. You need to stand for something with a clear message, and in a world ... hell, this nation ... with so much injustice going on, it's a moral crime that you can't find something to stand on.

For all those who want to stay the course in Iraq, know that in four short years, the Taliban is regaining power in Afghanistan, killing more than a 100 U.S. and NATO troops this year, and 92 percent of the world's Opium supply comes from this country. With the White House turning a blind eye, is this what you have in mind for Iraq?

For all those that believe the people of this country are safer and will protect us, remember how slow the administration was in responding to Hurricane Katrina, and remember the dead bodies that littered the streets of one of our nation's biggest cities for weeks.

For all those who remember the name Osama bin Laden, remember that up until this past week, President Bush rarely mentioned him for four years.

The vice president was on Meet the Press today. Tim Russert grilled him pretty hard, but he more or less kept saying he "doesn't buy" news reports and public hearing, and everything is going exactly according to their plan. Yeah.

Hardass McShootey captured

Phillips, a 44-year-old career thief who has spent 20 of the past 23 years in state prison, was taken to a jail in Buffalo and was to be arraigned Saturday morning on a federal charge of unlawful flight to avoid prosecution. If I spent most of my adult life in prison, wouldn't that make me a career prisoner?

I was also surprised to find that, according to various CNN stations, Phillips went from "Bucky" to "Buck" to make him seem more dangerous. I love news management. Why didn't we go with Ralph "Hardass McShootey" Phillips while we're at it?

Two Months/Eight Months

Whenever you get a 'fly so fast it reverses time' gadget on your belt, let me know

How SUPERMAN THE MOVIE should have ended:

Iraqublican

So Donald Rumsfeld gets up on his soapbox last week and says anybody that dares criticize the Bush administration for their handling of the Iraqi occupation is like a Nazi appeaser. I'm so glad that's settled, because if I'm a Nazi appeaserer, I wonder what that makes this guy:



Does anybody even know exactly what we're supposed to be doing in Iraq now? Is it to battle terrorists in a new kind of mobile war that requires us to be stationary for the most part? Or is it to develop a democratic country in the Middle East? Because I'm thinking it's not "Mission Accomplished" until Bobby Joe can take the wife and kids over there for a family vacation and eat the same stupid shit they eat in this country, like Applebee's, the Olive Garden and McDonald's. Do you know what they call a quarterpounder in Iraq? Me neither.

Wednesday's Best

Top Ten Sexual Euphemisms (Fantasy Football Edition)

10. Playing keep away
9. Dropping the reserves
8. Trading tight ends
7. Fingering the waiver list
6. Praying Johnson will come big for you
5. Benching the receiver
4. Grabbing Bush in the second round
3. Modding my helmet
2. Inserting a player in the flex position
1. Catching T.O.

A love letter ...

Dear Bass Pro-

What’s up? I know it’s been a while, but I was looking at some old photos the other day, and I thought of you. It may be kinda weird to call somebody up out of the blue, but why does it have to be weird? We used to be friends, a long time ago, and whatever happened shouldn’t stop us from staying in touch with each other.

Remember the first time we went out together? We walked along the waterfront, and I pointed out the majestic waters of Lake Erie through the pillars of the Skyway. That was when you said, “Hey, this would be a great place to sell stuff to professional bassmasters!” That’s when I knew it was love at first sight. I don’t know what you were thinking, but I was dreaming of a life with you, imagining all the additional revenue that would have come from people eating in our restaurants and spending nights in our hotels, all because people would come in from all over the country to shop in a fishing store. Perhaps I misread the gleam in your eye, but I could swear you thought the same thoughts, imaging what a tremendous draw it would be when you put those tackle boxes on sale.

Oh, I remember that night fondly, and as we walked along the way, we had our first very special moment. You looked into my eyes, and I touched your arm as we shared our first non-binding memorandum of intent. I don’t know about you, but my socks were on fire. Don’t get me wrong, baby, I’ve had a lot of non-binding MOIs in my life. I’ve played the field, that’s for sure. But there was something special between you and I that night.

I thought it went so well, but when I called you to go out again, you always said you were busy. I tried to be understanding at the time, but to be honest, I didn’t get it. Were we on different worlds? Was it me? It wasn’t before long you let my calls go directly to voice mail. I thought you might have been busy, but when I saw that you were out with that tramp Memphis, my heart was broken.

Look, maybe you didn’t care for the time I briefly flirted with my ex-girlfriend, Seneca Casino, for a few weeks. Now there was a relationship that went horribly wrong the first time, but when you stopped returning my calls, she came around again. I have to admit, I was lonely, and possibly desperate. Perhaps it was the Labatt Blue talking. But I soon came to my senses when she was all like, “Fulton Street” this and “infrastructure” that. Look, I’m not into a girl that’s high maintenance. That’s why I thought you and I were so perfect for each other.

Maybe this is the wrong idea, but I thought maybe if I tried again, we can work things out. Look, I know you’ve been out with a bunch of other guys … it’s all over the papers over here. But I still think we can make it. The next time I see you, I’d love to get in a non-binding situation again, like our first date.

Actually, I’m not being honest with you. I like non-binding, but I want to take the next step. I want to bind you, baby. I want to bind you all night long. Maybe that’s a little forward, but I don’t care. I want things to go back to the way they used to be, and I’ll do whatever it takes. I heard the other guys say that you’re a little frisky, and that’s why I sent you all those public funds and tax incentives. But I still couldn’t get you to call me back. Heck, at this point, I’ll even bring down the walls of the Aud, where we shared our first date, because you’ve brought down the walls around my heart.

I know some people will think all of this is desperate, but not you, because you and I shared something special together for one night two years ago. I know you can see it in my eyes … it’s love baby, and all you have to do is pick up the phone.

Or, if that doesn’t work for you, maybe we can still be friends …

-Buffalo

Things that keep me occupied August Edition

What I'm Watching: Daily Show, Colbert Report, Deadwood, Entourage, Ultimate Fighter 4, Veronica Mars Season One

What I'm Reading: The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway, Showcase Presents Superman Vol. 2 TP, Hard Times by Charles Dickens, Wisdom of Our Fathers by Tim Russert, Superman vs. Lex Luthor TP

Movies Recently Seen: Snakes on a Plane, Little Miss Sunshine, World Trade Center, The Magnificant Ambersons, Shaft (original!), Double Indemnity, Firewall

Recent iTunes downloads: "Enter Sandman" by Metallica, "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol, entire "It's Not Funny" album by David Cross, "Bad Boy for Life" by P. Diddy, "Nothin' but a G Thang" by Dr. Dre, "I Want You Back" by the Jackson Five, "Where the Streets Have No Name (I Can't Take My Eyes Off You)" by Pet Shop Boys

Wrestlin': ROH Dragon's Gate Challenge, ROH Supercard of Honor, Ballpark Brawl III

Comic Pick O' Month: Casanova #3, Matt Fraction/Gabriel Ba's super 60's mashup, features an alternate universe bad guy working as a double-agent for the world's biggest spy organization. It's fun.

You were here for a reason

Glenn Ford passed away on Wednesday. I didn't see many of his movies, but I always loved him as Clark Kent's father in the original SUPERMAN movie.

A bit more respectable

For the record, while I cannot turn my eyes away from that Journey video, I'm far more inspired by this and this when it comes to music videos. There's a bunch of DVDs out there that feature these innovative videos, usually involving the Beastie Boys, the White Stripes or directed by Spike Jonze and Michel Gondry. Funny, that.

Aren't the MTV Video Music Awards on tonight? Glancing at the list of Best Video nominees, I wasn't too impressed by any of them. I think the only one I watched straight through was the Shakira one because, well, Shakira was in it. I'm not proud.

Wednesday's Best

My old friend Erin peaked my interest with her list of favorite television characters that's the new viral trend.

A couple of notes about this list. First off, you'll notice a lot of my choices are from shows that are currently airing. Simply put, I never watched a lot of TV before recent years, but there's a lot of quality programming on right now. Secondly, I take a look at my choices and notice a lot of guys on there. There's probably a few reasons for this 1) I don't watch a lot of shows with a strong female perspective and 2) shockingly, I relate to the guys better. This is especially true of the shows Julie really likes, like SEX AND THE CITY, GOLDEN GIRLS and GREY'S ANATOMY. I find all the characters really well written and developed, but whenever there's a female/male conflict, I often find myself knee-jerkingly agreeing with the guys. I'm probably shooting myself in the foot with that one, so I should stop.

Honorable mentions go to Willow Rosenberg (Alyson Hannigan) in BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER, John Locke (Terry O'Quinn) and Mr. Eko (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje) on LOST, Captain James T. Kirk (William Shatner) in STAR TREK, Sister Peter Marie Reimondo (Rita Moreno) on OZ, Dwight Schrute (Rainn Wilson) in THE OFFICE and ... gosh, just about the whole cast of SPORTS NIGHT. One of these days I'll make the time to watch WEST WING reruns or DVDs. I'd also like to mention the character of Stephen Colbert on THE COLBERT REPORT, if that counts.

10. Gregory House (Hugh Laurie) HOUSE – It's been said by smarter people than me that the cranky genius doctor who hates everybody is one of the best characters on TV right now, so I won't go into it. I normally don't get worked up by award show nonsense, but when the Emmys nominated the show instead of Laurie for his performance, I thought they were insane because LAURIE IS THE SHOW.

9. Al Swearington (Ian McShane) DEADWOOD – The overall premise of this profane, Shakenspearean show is brilliant, and Swearington is in the middle of all of it. Really, if he was just giving poetic soliloquies while talking to severed Indian heads, or getting head himself, he'd still make it on this list. Hamlet would be proud of this puppetmaster.

8. George Costanza (Jason Alexander) SEINFELD – The man is a total loser but makes it work for him. He lies, he cheats, he steals. Not unlike Wily E. Coyote, we love watching him get into these situations, because we know it will end badly but we want to see how funny it is when he does screw it up. Of course, the alternate answer here is Larry David, whom George is based on, but essentially the same character to further heights on CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM, but rather than deal with all that, I'm with Alexander's brilliant character.

7. Carmela Soprano (Edie Falco) THE SOPRANOS – I didn't see her pop up on a lot of lists, but I'm utterly fascinated by the mob boss wife that is clearly aware of the ugly truths involved in the family business, and hates herself for it. Yet, she certainly enjoys the standard of living she's accustomed to, and at times, remains willingly naive on certain subjects that happen right before her face. She's such a contradiction. Don't worry, Carm, I'm sure Adrinna really did run away.

6. George Michael Bluth (Michael Cera) ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT – Of all the marvelous characters on this show, the best is George Michael, as I can't recall any other series that captured as well as AD the comedic pathos of being a teenage boy, who may or may not be in love with his cousin (See what I did there?). It's a credit to both the writing and the performance of Cera that really sells this. What a fun, sexy time for all of us, indeed.

5. Stringer Bell (Idris Elba) THE WIRE – Stringer Bell is not your ordinary drug gang leader. He's smart, caculating and ambitious, detemined to not let his emotions trip him up on the way to something bigger, unlike other drug kingpins. But when his best friend and boss is one of those kingpins, Bell has to not only dance a thin wire with his ambitions, but avoid leaving incriminating evidence for the cops to catch him. He deals with street level pushers and top politicans. He goes to business school. He's a man that was raised in one social class that's looking to move to another, and the first three seasons of THE WIRE detail his rise and fall.

4. Veronica Mars (Kristin Bell) VERONICA MARS – We're only halfway through the first season (thanks DVD sale Target!), but I'm hooked. A high-school girl recovering from being popular as well as the "unsolved" murder of her best friend, Veronica uses her charm, wit and intelligence to fend off her detractors and solve mysteries. She's sort of early seasons Buffy without the superpowers.

3. Jack Bauer (Kiefer Sutherland) 24 – The biggest action hero of our age. Bauer's the kind of guy that will do anything and everything to protect the country, and no matter what your political views, you can't help but enjoy the ride along the way. Oh, he tries to do the normal, family life thing on occasion, but when trouble starts or there's some witness stonewalling interregators, you see that sly smirk on his face because you know he's about to go on the job. Whether he's singlehandly taking down a terrorist compound or getting people to talk by any means necessary, the man loves what he does ... and what he does is FUCK PEOPLE UP. If you see Jack Bauer coming down the street, you've got two choices: Do everything he says, or get the hell out of the way, because there's no other option.

2. Number Six (Patrick McGoohan) THE PRISONER – The best non-conformist, anti-authority character on the small screen, bar none. We don't know who he is or why he resigned, but his superiors want to know very badly, and they'll let him go if he just tells them. But when Number Six thinks something is none of your business, he really means it. As he says it: "I will not make any deals with you. I've resigned. I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered. My life is my own." If you haven't seen this old British show, you should really do yourself a favor and check it out.

1. Special Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) TWIN PEAKS – Before Fox Mulder made strange but genius G-Men acceptable, "Coop" was putting it out there for all to see as he searched for the killer of Laura Palmer. There is a Zen-like quality to Cooper that allows he to balance reasonable deduction with spiritual enlightment that's fascinated me all my life. In Cooper's world, there is an underlying order to the universe, even if we can't see it. "Fate and coincidence figure largely into our lives," he tells us. He's also a genuinely good man, morally strong enough to resist the temptation of a naked Sherilyn Fenn lying in his hotel bed (YIKES!), but also confident enough to walk into hell itself to save the ones he loves and face down his inner demons. And this is a David Lynch series, so you know I'm not speaking about this metaphorically.

None More Rock

If somebody were to ever ask me, “What video defines the 80s?,” I know what I would pick. Some would say Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” Others would be partial to Madonna’s “Material Girl.”

But really, for me, it comes down to a simple checklist of 80s clichés.

A NON-DESCRIPT WAREHOUSE LOCATION? Check.

WOMAN WALKING AROUND IN HIGH HEELS? Check.

MULLETS? Check.

ROCKING OUT TO THE AIR GUITAR? Check (BONUS-Entire band playing air instruments).

TIGHT JEANS? Check.

LEATHER SKIRTS? Check.

MUSICANS TURNING DRAMATICALLY TO CAMERA MULTIPLE TIMES? Check.



If anybody doubts that this is simply one of the greatest things MTV has ever aired, wait until you get to the guy playing the keyboard nailed to the wall about a minute-thirty in and try to keep a straight face.

You got to give it up for Steve Perry … he sells the shit out of this thing. I don’t think I’ll ever be not amused by this video. This was mainstream rock in the Reagan era.

Du U H8 Texting?

So I was reading the paper the other day, and there was this big front page cover story about how the kids these days are just texting and IMing each other. And I thought to myself, "Well, further proof that abstinence-only education programs just don't work." But then I read further and I realized I was thinking of something completely different.

Anyhoo, in this story, all the kids were saying that it's just so much more convenient to text their friend than e-mailing them. E-mailing, to them apparently, is a dead technology. And here I am, at 30, experiencing the second time I've ever felt old. The first time was when I found out my young teenage cousin was being taught by a guy I graduated high school with who had already been married and divorced. But that's neither here nor there.

So kids these days text each other to save time. To save time? Is it just me, or does anybody else lose patience with texting another person really quick? Even just typing "Hi" means you have to find wherever the h is on the phone and then press it twice ... because h is not even the first freaking letter on that button. It's g. And I've got no time for a g thing baby. So you have to press this button twice to get h. And here's the thing ... after h in "hi" is i, right? But you have to wait for the phone to recognize that you're absolutely sure you want that h, so you wait. And then when your phone decides, "Yes, this person really wants to use h here," then it moves to the next space so you can input an i. Because you can't input it beforehand, because then it will screw up your h, and then you have to start all over. You know why? Because the h and the i are on the same fucking button! That sounds like a lot to go through, doesn't it? That's just "hi," only the first word in 80 percent of conversations people have everyday. And it's two letters! Can you imagine trying to work out complete sentences on this thing?

It's especially problematic for people who like to think of themselves as, you know, intelligent. You feel a desperate need to write out the whole damn sentence and make sure it's spelled correctly and it's grammatically correct. And it's a bitch, because cellphones don'’t come with spell check yet. I know I'm not the only person in the room who uses that crutch.

But the kids, they have their own language. Instead of typing out "you," they put in a U. Instead of typing out "are," they put in an R. Instead of typing out "hate," they put in an H and an 8. I never understood that one. Is "Do" DU? They make up all kinds of abbreviations because they can't be bothered to type out they are laughing out loud. But you can almost see the logic here, because I'd imagine typing out sentences with single letters saves you a lot of time if you were writing to the illiterate.

But here's the thing that burns me the most. Obviously, as you can tell, I'm not a big fan of texting, so I don't do it. But some of my friends continue to text me. But when I want to do something that would save me time in a conversation (otherwise known as "call them right the fuck back"), they don't even answer the phone. Bastards.

Random aside of the day

I'd give you a demonstration, but you can't spell "demonstration" without "demons," and demons are simply against my religion.

Baby, you can't drive my car

So yesterday I was listening to Rush Limbaugh, who I like to think of as our dark lord and savior, and “America's Anchorman” opened my eyes to the media manipulation that's going on right in front of us. While the drive-by media like to talk about how many people are dying in Iraq on a daily basis, their “liberal bias” fails to mention another amazing statistic that has absolutely nothing to do with the Iraqi war, but it is a death count that far outpaces what's going on in the Middle East. I'm talking about highway deaths.

“Now, the number of highway deaths in this country, 43,443 in 2005, is 40 to 50 times our troop losses in Iraq and Afghanistan combined (editor-about 3,100). Well, ten or 20 times at least.”

Yes, now we're getting somewhere. There's a few thousand dead soldiers in Iraq. But there are tens of thousands dead on our nation's highways! It's pretty much the same thing! But one death count is a lot higher! But do you hear that on CNN? Hell, no, you don't! If this were an African country, those liberal commie pinkos would be marching on GWB's vacation ranch!

Wait a minute. Thousands dead … a subjective term to define a conflict of which there can be no conclusive winner … Folks, I think we should declare War on Driving. Those murdering weapons of mass destruction have had their free ride long enough. There should even be a color coded chart to help us out, letting us know when is a good time to be on or off the streets.



So remember America, while our liberal media shows their obvious bias by reporting on things like “Dozens dead in Iraqi bombings today” or “vice president shoots man in face,” remember who's doing the real killing.

Do you have to use so many cuss words?

NWS, as the kids say these days ...

The hands of time

So the other day, the wife went into the store to get new batteries for a number of watches. A day later, she’s wearing one of the watches when she asks me what time is it? She thinks it’s 1:30. I tell her it’s actually 3. Clearly, her watch has stopped again, and she moved it up to the correct time.

She then proceeds to tell me that her mother never wears watches because they stop all the time. It’s not a battery problem, it’s not a winding problem, they just stop. It doesn’t matter what watch she wears, it will stop. That’s crazy … like X-Files crazy.

Is it science? Is it biology? Is it a crooked watch dealer? A brief search of Google and Wikipedia has brought me no answers (Oh, Internet, you have failed me for the last time!). Is this an actual phenomenon? Or is this simply a random occurrence that has somehow turned to legend, like my father’s stories of managing Rick James?

Perhaps she has an electromagnetic pulse.

Frozen mold

For those of you single guys out there, did you know there's a wedding tradition where you save the top layer of your cake, stick it in a freezer and then eat it on your first anniversary? No? Well, then, consider this your due warning, so you can prepare yourself when the cake people and fiance give you menacing looks for obviously thinking this is the stupidest fucking idea in the history of ideas.

Think about it for a second. You are putting a baked dessert into the fridge for a year. Can anybody else see the line forming so you can get some of that? Girls, when you wonder why guys never heard of this story, or make an awful face when they hear of it, it's because we've never thought, "Man, this steak is really, really good. I'm going to save the rest, stick it in the freezer and see how it holds up! It will be awesome!" No, it sounds disgusting. There's shit in my fridge right now that's probably over a year old, but that's only because I'm the bastard who's too lazy to throw it out, not because I'm saving it for some arbitrary date, chosen only because the fire hall was open for that date.

Mother's

The only time the natural light of the sun appears is through the large glass window in front and the skylight in back. Beyond that, it’s all soft light baby, with low lit bar lamps and candles at the tables. You may not have come to Mother’s to eat, but you certainly come to drink.

For years now, Mother’s has been the trendy little restaurant on near Allentown that everybody went to. People liked going to Mother’s to be sure, but it was more of that grand pronouncement, “I’m going to Mother’s,” that was the phrase of self-superiority and snobbishness. People wanted to be seen at Mother’s to let everybody else know that they were important. It was like a secret handshake to get into the club, especially if you couldn’t afford the membership rates at the Buffalo Club a block away.

It sounds amazing that a “trendy” social spot would stay that way for years, but really, the crowds just changed when the young professionals moved on to other trendy places (or that trendy institution family that gets all the play these days), while the politicians and asskissing elite moved in.

After a self-imposed sabbatical of several years, Julie and I returned to Mother’s Friday night for a few cocktails with friends. When I regularly went to Mother’s years ago, it didn’t get that crowded until 7 or 8 p.m., usually when people came in for dinner. Now, the prime real estate at the bar is occupied by 5 p.m. The bar opens at 4, for Pete’s sake.

While we were waiting for our other friends to come, the tendency to eavesdrop was extraordinarily difficult to resist. So we didn’t. Our prey that day was a group of older, well-coifed city workers that would namedrop like they were tossing little anvils around to make a point.

“Byron!” KLANG. “Rocco’s son-in-law!” KLANG. “Do I need to talk to Frank Clark about you?” THREATENING KLANG! “Peter Cutler!” KLANG … ow, my foot!

It’s so nice to see all these city workers on a first-name basis with the leadership, but apparently not so friendly that the same leaders would hang out with them.

The really creepy part of this whole scene was how vaguely incestuous all this was. When we got there, two older men were talking to two women who appeared to be in their late 30s, maybe early 40s. Besides awful ice breakers these guys were lobbing their way, like “So is it difficult to deal with sexual harassment?” (Hello, Sonny Crocket!), the strange moment came when one of the ladies gave her phone number to one of the guys, who was married with a ring. Not only did this tall brunette give her number, she gave her business card and wrote on the back her home and cell phone numbers. This woman clearly wants a call back.

Minutes later, her assumed boyfriend walks in the door after a round of golf, and the brunette is all over him now. This is not a situation that was limited to her … as more men and women from the city came in, they were all hugging and touching each other. Most were flirting with each other. Hey, something for the water cooler on Monday morning, right?

Of course, it wasn’t that long ago when I was one of these wanna-be pretentious douchebags that would talk about how influential they are at the office while talking to members of the opposite sex (or in some cases, the same sex). Oh, don’t get me wrong, there are still some of those traits remaining in me at times, but I’ve downgraded my “wanna-be” status to “like to be.”

Back in those days, I was 25, and the whole world was in front of me. My little crew would meet up at Mother’s every Friday afternoon for drinks. The use of afternoon is key in this case, as we’d frequently open the place up at 4 p.m. A few drinks were poured, (or in my one friend’s case, opened), and we’d talk about the week’s events … commenting on how naïve people can be, trash whatever trend was going on at that point, live up to our anti-authoritative stance. Not unlike the people we were watching Friday, we were this tight little group of cynics that occasionally grew incestuous, adding to the drama. We’re still hanging out with most of the same crew, but now there’s 30 percent less incestuous drama. At 25, we saw all the angles. We were young, we were smart, and we sure as hell we’re going to let anybody tell us what to do.

We were drunk. We were dicks.

It seems ridiculous to think that life can change so much in five years, but here I am at 30, and everybody I know looks at things in a different way now. At 25, you’re invincible and ready to change the world. At 30, you more than likely dealt with some, if not all, of these things: Marriage. Divorce. Birth. Death. Layoffs. Illness. Fidelity. Infidelity. The Mortgage. Plumbing. The decision to buy beer for a night, or fruits and vegetables for the week. Debt (or, at least, the realization you won’t be out of debt for a while). Life Insurance. Accountants. 401Ks. “If I increase my weekly deposit by $5, I should retire with $1.5 million, based on the current rate of return!” Pampered Chef parties.

All of these things change your perspective on life and how you live your life. It’s not to say that we were suddenly endowed with magnificent culmination of all wisdom, but I’d like to think that we’re a little bit smarter than we were before. We also have a little more compassion for the struggles we all go through.

There’s still some of the 25-year-old in me, the one that is cynical, untrusting of anybody over 30 and ready to change the world. Well, I’m going to be 31 in a few months, so a third of that plan is already out the window. But while I’ve adjusted my motivations, I would still like to change the world in some fashion, so that’s when I bring out the 25-year-old in me, to remind me of where I came from and where I would like to go. This time, I’ll manage that young punk better.

That’s why I still like going to my old haunts like Mother’s every once in a while. These moments will not only bring back memories, but also serve as a reminder of why you moved on. When my friends got to Mother’s, we went over to Prespa on Delaware, and I can’t wait until that becomes the new place to be seen.

For my Dad

For those of you who keep our family in your prayers, please remember to also pray that when we do see each other again, no offering will be required and the formal wear will be optional.

During extraordinary times, I often turn to music, and these words from the Beatles feel particularly appropriate to express how I’ve felt these past two weeks. “Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box; they tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe. Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind, possessing and caressing me.”

For those who did not know him, Henry Ciemcioch was a friend, a colleague, a partner, a Godfather, a uncle, a son, a brother, a father, a husband. No matter what relationship he had with another person, he not only met expectations, he exceeded them in every way possible.

Henry was a man of patience and pride; patience to help others in times of need, patience to not react negatively when something bothered him, patience to let the ones he loved find their way in the world. He was a proud man as well; proud to have served in the United States army, proud of the fact he taught himself how to do new things; proud of the work he did at the Post Office and the record he established there. Even yesterday, he was awarded a shirt from the Post Office for his achievements, and it now lies with him. Henry was proud of the job he did, and from all accounts, they were proud of him.

But for Henry, there was nothing in his life he was prouder of than his family. From my mother Krystyna to myself to my new bride Julie, whom he happily referred to on our wedding day as, “Mrs. Ciemcioch.”

He was also a man of great humor. When I was a child, I found a book in the house he presumably authored entitled, “All I Know About Sex.” When I opened the book, all the pages were blank. It took me a long time to get that one.

Even in sickness, his humor remained intact. After surviving esophageal cancer and losing 70 pounds, he often remarked about how excited he was to write a new diet book for the masses.

For me personally, I could not ask for a better father. From the day I was born, he not only looked out for me, he took a personal interest in what I did. Beginning with Star Wars and Superman, my father introduced me to a lifelong fascination about movies. He would occasionally pull me out of school for what he termed “quality time,” which meant a hot dog lunch at Ted’s and an afternoon at the theater. It was a tradition we continued to this day, and thankfully, I married a woman that enjoys those days herself.

Henry also opened the door to a world of heroes when he started buying me comic books when I was younger. As I followed the adventures of these larger than life heroes, wondering how Batman would solve the case or how the Fantastic Four would escape the clutches of the dreaded Dr. Doom, he would read them along with me. His favorite of this colorful bunch was Superman, and he always lit up whenever I brought him over a new batch of books. But for me, my father was always the real Man of Steel. In a world of war and violence, poverty and famine, my father taught me that the fight for a better way is always worth fighting. He made me believe in heroes, because he was one himself.

Although I was not present at my father’s passing, I have no regrets. In these times of pain, you always wish for one last conversation, but I now remember my wedding day, when I went to his bedside. We said everything we needed to say.

Instead, I was in Italy, the center of the Catholic universe. And no matter how you personally feel about talking to higher beings and various methods you may go about it, one thing is very clear; if there’s any place on this planet that had a broadband connection to the big guy in charge, it’s the Vatican.

On Monday, I took a few hours that afternoon to go to the Vatican by myself to think about the twists and turns life has shown me. As I walked around the majestic St. Peter’s Basilica, reflecting upon my father’s life, the strain began to ease. The burden began to lift. And I couldn’t help but be filled with one simple feeling, “It’s going to be OK.”

How appropriate that I was reminded two days later by my mother that my father always said in times of trouble, “Don’t worry, it’s OK.”

It is my father’s sentiment that I express to you all now, don’t worry about us; we’re going to be OK. For those of you who curse the timing of such matters, remember there is no good time for death. Remember during the sorrow and tears, there is also great joy and respect for a life fully lived. Remember that while we lost one family member, we have gained another. Remember that for all the struggles Henry has endured in recent years, he is now at peace. In the ebb and flow of fate, our family has endured much, but we continue to stand tall, together, for remember that if this is indeed our darkest hour, the light will come soon if we just hold on. As the Beatles also noted, “there will be an answer … let it be.”

So while we pause to mourn my father, let us also remember the wonderful memories we shared with him and the impact he had on our lives. My father and me often annoyed my mother by repeatedly saying “Hi Dad” “Hi Mark” endlessly, but now is the time to say, “Bye Dad.” You will be missed, but you will always be loved.