The Arena at Gwinnett Center: It's People, Stupid.

On the heels of the third installment of our fire safety reviews comes the fourth; a trip to the Arena at Gwinnett Center. Why so soon? Because we were there the night after we were at the EARL for our third review.


The Arena at Gwinnett Center
6400 Sugarloaf Parkway
Duluth, GA 30097
Capacity: 13,100
Visited On: October 25, 2008
Reason For Visit: Band-Weezer

What Could Burn: That's a tough question in a building this big. There really isn't much. In the seating area for concerts the seats themselves are the only real concern beside the stage. But the seats are probably required to be fire-resistive. (Note: There is no such thing as fire-proof. Everything will burn.) There are box seats in suites that probably have quite a bit of flammable furniture and other stuff. But on the whole - not much here to burn.

Egress: These kinds of buildings tend to be on the up and up. The elected officials and bureaucrats that are responsible for these things don't want 13,100 dead people on their hands so they are pretty strict. Buildings this size are expensive as hell so adding a little more cost for fire safety isn't really that much to ask.

These buildings are built to get people in an out quickly so there are plenty of exits to the lobby areas. But unlike our previous discussions about how people leave buildings in a panic this turns that argument on its ear.

In case you haven't read any of the other entries in this series, most people in a panic leave exactly the way they entered. This is exactly what happened at the Station Nightclub fire where 100 people died and 200 were injured. Fifty-eight of that 100 dead were found in the immediate vicinity of the front door even though there were other exits available. They piled up and were unable to get out ahead of a rapidly moving fire. It's truly horrible video if you see the full unedited tape.

Anyway, egress is a main concern of buildings the size of the Arena. That's what makes the complete absence of exit signs within the seating area so odd. I have to theorize that the exits aren't marked so that people will, contrary to what we think we want them to do, do what we know they will do. I think they are actually relying on people moving up the stairs the way they came in. If there were exit signs down near the floor area, for instance, it would be very possible that people would go that way. And in a building this big you risk getting lost. So going out the way you came in is actually a good idea.

Fire Protection: The building is sprinklered in the common areas and anywhere else the ceiling is a reasonable height. But in large open areas like the seating area sprinklers really aren't going to do you any good. The sprinkler head has to get up to a reasonably high temperature to activate. The area at the ceiling of an arena would have to be really hot over a large space to activate a sprinkler head. And this is only going to happen if the thing is rolling. And I mean rolling to the point that sprinklers wouldn't put the fire out at that point.

Miscellaneous: When we walked in the door we were immediately greeted by a haze in all of the lights of the lobby areas. Of course it was just the smoke effects for the band that was already playing, but it was funny nonetheless.

Overall: What can I say, it's really a pretty safe place from a fire safety standpoint. I give The Arena at Gwinnett Center an Above Average rating. The only real problem is the number of people that you're surrounded by. So as long as you keep your wits about you, you should be pretty safe. Just remain aware and vigilant.

The East Atlanta Restaurant and Lounge

Welcome to my third installment of fire safety reviews of band venues in the Atlanta area. Our first two reviews took place in the same building, but we have moved to East Atlanta for our next review. We went to the E.A.R.L. to see the amazing Ben Kweller.

E.A.R.L.
488 Flat Shoals Ave.
East Atlanta, GA 30316
Capacity: 300?
Visited On: October 24, 2008
Reason For Visit: Band - Ben Kweller

What Could Burn: Well, in a word: everything. The EARL is in an older building in East Atlanta. It wouldn't surprise me if it was more than sixty years old. It is wood frame construction with only limited fire-resistive components (I wasn't able to inspect the walls but they might be cinder block.) The roof is wood with exposed rafters throughout the venue area. More importantly, the floor of the venue is wooden. Although I couldn't check it out at the time, there is a distinct possibility that this building has a basement or at least a crawl space based on this floor construction.

The prospect of there being a basement below is somewhat troubling; fire in the basement, floor collapse, etc. The building's age is a pro and a con at the same time. It's old and could come down any minute vs. it's old and has stood for sixty years so why would it come down now?

Egress: There are two ways out of the venue. The way you come in is through a door with a long hallway on the other side. At that side of the room there are actually two doors; one marked entrance and one exit. The problem here is that the entrance door swings in. In a panic it is very possible that people will try to go out the way they came in. And here we're talking not just the direction but the actual door. Paula actually made this mistake when we were leaving. The fact that the door swings open into the venue poses the problem that people will jam up against it then be unable to open it. It would be a simple thing to remedy but I don't know if anyone has realized the danger.

There is another exit on the other side of the room with the door near the front of the stage. As I mentioned in the last review I don't like having to go close to the stage to exit since that's where a fire is most likely to start. But this exit makes up for its proximity to the stage by being an oversized door. I think this is probably that way so that bands can load equipment a little easier, but it makes for a better exit. The door doesn't lead directly to the outside but from what I could see it's only a few feet to the exterior door.

Both exits from the venue are properly marked with lit signs and both are free from obstruction.

Fire Protection: The building isn't sprinklered probably due to the fact that it was built long before they became required. It is somewhat surprising that they aren't required when an older building changes uses as this one did when it became a bar. I realize that it does represent a substantial investment but it's not without merit.

Miscellaneous: I did locate a fire extinguisher near the rear exit. It was the only one I saw and probably was the only one in the room due to the fact that the standard for most occupancies is 75 ft of travel distance. That means that you can't have to walk more than 75 ft to the extinguisher from any point in the room. As usual I located the extinguisher and made mental plans for employing it in case of an emergency.

The room is pretty dark with the only real light coming from the stage area, but there really isn't any furniture or anything else for you to bump into.

This show was a non-smoking show so that takes away some of the possibility of an accidental fire but usually the EARL allows smoking...lots of smoking.

Overall: Well, the EARL is a nice place to see a show. I've seen a few bands there and it seems a lot of the bands I like like to play there. But from a fire safety standpoint I have to give the venue an average rating based on the type of construction and lack of a sprinkler system. I give them points for their exits and the fire extinguisher in the open, but it's not enough to totally ease my mind.

Which is really the point of all of these reviews. I'm not slanting my reviews to purposefully frighten people but it's really something that you should think about. Anytime you are in a structure with a lot of other people (many of whom are not necessarily thinking with all of their abilities) you need to plan your way out.

Vinyl Will Burn

This post is the second in my series on fire safety at venues around Atlanta. I previously had reviewed The Loft after seeing Steel Train and The Hush Sound there. Well, once again the band is Steel Train but the venue has changed. But not so much. You see, Vinyl is located in the same building as The Loft.

Vinyl
1374 West Peachtree Street
Atlanta, Ga 30309
Capacity: 300
Visited On: October 22, 2008
Reason for Visit: Band - Steel Train

What Could Burn: Since Vinyl is located in the same building as The Loft we find the same type of construction. And as before we find that the danger is the contents, not the building itself. Vinyl is sparsely decorated, but there are portions that are cause for pause; specifically over the audience in front of the stage. Fabric has been attached to the ceiling in a kind of draping decoration. It's gathered in places and hangs in others. The problem with it is that it's above the sprinkler heads. If the fabric were to catch fire the heat from the fire would be above the sprinkler heads and wouldn't activate them. What's more, the smoke would probably be bad. It would choke and blind the patrons preventing them from finding the way out. Which leads us to...

Egress: There are three ways out of Vinyl. The first is the front door leading in off of the street. It's just a few steps down and not much of a worry. Except for the fact that the emergency exit sign is currently not working. So that leaves only the other two. The second exit is actually a hallway into another part of the building. It's also only a few feet from the front door, both of which are to the left of the stage. The third exit is located in a door to the right of the stage.

Now, three exits from this very small bar/venue sounds pretty generous, but the problem is that all of the exits are right around the stage. If the fire starts on the stage (a likelihood with all of that lighting) you would have to pass the fire to get out. There is no exit to the rear of the bar, which is pretty surprising. There are windows across the front of the building but these are also behind the stage which has its back to the street. So Vinyl doesn't really pass on my egress standard.

Fire Protection: Vinyl has sprinkler protection over every area that I could see which is great. But if you look closely at the front of the building you will note that the sprinkler connection is hidden behind some bushes that someone planted. That's right, the connection that the fire department hooks up to to assist the sprinkler system with putting the fire out is blocked with a bush. Now, I'm not saying the sprinkler system won't put the fire out by itself, but you're not supposed to hide the FDC (fire department connection) either.

Miscellaneous: I did see a fire extinguisher out in the audience area mounted on the wall which is somewhat out of the ordinary due to the fact that drunk people like to play with fire extinguishers. But having the extinguisher out where people like me can get to them could mean all the difference. I've often thought how different the Station fire would have been if someone had the presence of mind to grab a fire extinguisher and hit the fire on the ceiling once.

Darkness is also a factor in Vinyl although not as much as previously mentioned in my review of The Loft. Once again the only real light is the stage, but Vinyl does a better job with small lights sprinkled around areas of the ceiling.

Smoking is allowed and to some extent encouraged as someone came around and put an ashtray down in front of us. That of course is a danger.

Overall: Vinyl is very similar to The Loft in most respects. However, the lack of exits on the other side of the room is troubling. When comparing Vinyl so some of the other venues in Atlanta it comes out ahead, but I never got far away from the exits. As a matter of fact, when Steel Train took the stage I was right up front. Near the band. Near the exits.

A Legend

Supposedly, Paul Newman once speculated that his epitaph would read, "Here lies Paul Newman, who died a failure because his eyes turned brown." That's pretty funny if it's a true story. But it never would have ended that way. Paul Newman was not a failure.

I was particularly saddened when I heard that he had died. I think I used the word "devastated" at one point. The news caught me by surprise. A friend said to me something to the effect of, "it's so sad that Paul Newman died." I, of course, hadn't heard.

I tried a few times to write something that adequately expressed my admiration for his work, but it always ended up sounding pathetic. I mean, you're talking about an actor that is a star of one of my favorite movies of all time (Road To Perdition), an actor whose brilliant performance played into me naming one of my children (Cool Hand Luke), and a person who by all accounts was a nice guy.

Then I saw the article by David Ansen in Newsweek. He hits it all just right and says everything I wanted to.

The Verdict: A Legend
by David Ansen
reprinted without permission from Newsweek magazine

When Paul Newman turned 70, I asked him about the pros and cons of aging. "What's difficult about getting old," he said, with that gravelly voice that set in in his 60s, "is remembering the way things used to be. There were such things as loyalty. The community hadn't disintegrated. The individual had not been deified at the expense of everything around him. I don't think that's just an old codger, you know, wishing for the old days. Goddam, they were better. There was a lot of ugliness, but there was a lot more grace." Newman, a modest man, would have been embarrassed to be told that he exemplified that grace, both on screen, where in his prime he played heels whom everyone fell in love with, and off, where his generosity, professionalism and decency were legendary.

Newman became a star playing Rocky Graziano in the 1956 black-and-white boxing saga "Somebody Up There Likes Me." But to get the full force of his matinee-idol presence, you had to see him—and those famous blue eyes—in color. The star of "The Long, Hot Summer," "Exodus," "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" and "Cool Hand Luke" was arguably the most beautiful man in an industry that revered beauty. Newman knew his stardom was built on that classic profile, that ripped, often-exposed torso, those eyes, and it tormented him. It wasn't who he wanted to be. He was a Method-trained character actor who longed to disappear inside his roles. Instead, his roles had a habit of disappearing inside the mythical creature named Paul Newman. "Paul Newman IS 'Hud'," ran the ad line for his classic 1963 Martin Ritt movie, and it was more true than the filmmakers intended. He was playing a selfish, womanizing Texas cad, the purported villain, but his charm and innate likability were so strong they threw the movie out of whack—and turned it into a big hit. Newman's specialty was the deeply flawed, morally tarnished American hero—Fast Eddie in "The Hustler," Chance Wayne in "Sweet Bird of Youth," the washed-up lawyer in "The Verdict," Sully in "Nobody's Fool"—who carried inside his sardonic heart the hint of redemption. In his most popular movies in the '60s and '70s—"Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," "The Sting"—he was a scamp, a con man, a rough-edged charmer. The devastating blue eyes had acquired a roguish twinkle.

The paradox of his career was that he became a great romantic icon playing characters who were usually incapable of love. With men he was a great buddy, partner in crime, leader of the pack. But you can count the love stories he made on the fingers of one hand. Unlike his friend and frequent costar Robert Redford, whose movies pivot on romance, Newman played antiheroes who were gun-shy, like Brick in "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof," who spends an entire movie rejecting Elizabeth Taylor's advances, or Fast Eddie, whose lover kills herself. In spite of that, his hustler proved so popular that he reprised the role in the 1986 "The Color of Money," and won an Oscar. It's hard to think of another star so beloved by both men and women who had such a dismal on-screen amatory track record. His most successful long-term relationship was with us.

Newman didn't just talk about the good old days; he walked the walk. In an era of cheap celebrity and promiscuous self exposure, he kept his personal demons to himself and approached whatever he took up with the tenacity of the long distance runner. His marriage to Joanne Woodward lasted 50 years. When he began racing, he became a world-class driver. An unreconstructed liberal, he marched for civil rights, steadfastly supported Democratic candidates and put his money into The Nation, the left-wing weekly, when it was threatened with extinction. His charitable efforts are well known. He started his Newman's Own food-products line as a lark with his friend A. E. Hotchner, and built it into an altruistic empire.

Everyone who knew Newman well describes him as intensely private. He was also famous for his elaborate practical jokes: he once had a Porsche crushed, beribboned and deposited on Redford's driveway. "I think my sense of humor is the only thing that keeps me sane," he told me in 1994. He was one of the biggest stars in Hollywood history, yet there wasn't a shred of the diva in him. I suspect he never felt he deserved his fame and fortune, and he refused to throw his weight around. Melanie Griffith, who worked with him in "Nobody's Fool," described him as "the best gentleman I've ever met in 30 years of movies." Such grace will be sorely missed.

Pop-up Videos Minus The Videos R.I.P.

Well, I had originally intended my music videos on YouTube to initiate conversations about songs that I like. Instead, I received a plethora of comments using curse words that other users didn't take the time to spell correctly. A lot of the comments were mean or just plain ignorant. And the majority of the negative comments came from people who had themselves not posted a single video; their only contribution being their vitriol.

There were others who seemed to enjoy my videos and for that, I sincerely thank them.

But the problem was also the fact that services are now readily available on the internet to convert Flash video (such as YouTube) so that it may be saved. Thus, my postings of songs which I did not originally think could be used to cheat the artist out of a buck, were doing just that. The Gambler had hit around 45,000 viewings, which isn't a lot for YouTube, but it's enough when you think that half of those viewings might have been used to avoid paying to listen to the song. In other words, I cheated Kenny Rogers out of about $22,500. Sorry Kenny.

Sorry, Polyphonic Spree, The Decemberists, and Elton John. I meant no harm. My efforts were based in an honest appreciation for your art.

It's A Stereotype, Isn't It?

I mean the movie Heathers used it to paint a picture of the mental state of a character. Really, is there anything more pretentious than quoting Moby Dick?

I finally gave in and joined Facebook. Part of creating my profile was to add "favorite quotes." I started thinking about all of my favorite quotes and quickly realized just how many of them come from this book. So, I figured I'd just add them as a post.

I realize most of you won't read all of them but give a few of them a look. If you feel like investing the time, I can tell you they are even better within the context of the entire book.

"Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance."

"...even pirates and privateers, though following the sea as highwaymen the road, they but plunder other ships, other fragments of the land like themselves, without seeking to draw their living from the bottomless deep itself."

"Mark ye, be forewarned; Ahab's above the common; Ahab's been in colleges, as well as 'mong the cannibals; been used to deeper wonders than the waves; fixed his fiery lance in mightier stranger foes than whales. His lance! aye, the keenest and the surest that out of all our isle! Oh! he ain't Captain Bildad; no, and he ain't Captain Peleg; he's Ahab, boy; and Ahab of old, thou knowest, was a crowned king!"

"...and Heaven have mercy on us all - Presbyterians and Pagans alike - for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending."

"hear him, all of ye. Think of that! When every moment we thought the ship would sink! Death and the judgment then? What? With all three masts making such an everlasting thundering against the side; and every sea breaking over us, fore and aft. Think of Death and the Judgment then? No! no time to think about Death then. Life was what Captain Ahab and I was thinking of; and how to save all hands - how to rig jury-masts - how to get into the nearest port; that was what I was thinking of."

"The port would fain give succor; the port is pitiful; in the port is safety, comfort, hearthstone, supper, warm blankets, friends, all that's kind to our mortalities. But in that gale, the port, the land, is that ship's direst jeopardy; she must fly all hospitality; one touch of land, though it but graze the keel, would make her shudder through and through."

"But as in landlessness alone resides the highest truth, shoreless, indefinite as God..."

"Doubtless one leading reason why the world declines honoring us whalemen, is this: they think that, at best, our vocation amounts to a butchering sort of business; and that when actively engaged therein, we are surrounded by all manner of defilements. Butchers we are, that is true. But butchers, also, and butchers of the bloodiest badge have been all Martial Commanders whom the world invariably delights to honor. And as for the matter of the alleged uncleanliness of our business, ye shall soon be initiated into certain facts hitherto pretty generally unknown, and which, upon the whole, will triumphantly plant the sperm whale-ship at least among the cleanliest things of this tidy earth. But even granting the charge in question to be true; what disordered slippery decks of a whale-ship are comparable to the unspeakable carrion of those battle-fields from which so many soldiers return to drink in all ladies' plaudits? And if the idea of peril so much enhances the popular conceit of the soldier's profession; let me assure ye that many a veteran who has freely marched up to a battery, would quickly recoil at the apparition of the sperm whale's vast tail, fanning into eddies the air over his head. For what are the comprehensible terrors of man compared with the interlinked terrors and wonders of God!

But, though the world scouts at us whale hunters, yet does it unwittingly pay us the profoundest homage; yea, an all-abounding adoration! for almost all the tapers, lamps, and candles that burn round the globe, burn, as before so many shrines, to our glory!"

"...for a whale-ship was my Yale College and my Harvard."

"I will have no man in my boat," said Starbuck, "who is not afraid of a whale."

"Starbuck was no crusader after perils; in him courage was not a sentiment; but a thing simply useful to him, and always at hand upon all mortally practical occasions."

"Men may seem detestable as joint stock-companies and nations; knaves, fools, and murderers there may be; men may have mean and meagre faces; but man, in the ideal, is so noble and so sparkling, such a grand and glowing creature, that over any ignominious blemish in him all his fellows should run to throw their costliest robes. That immaculate manliness we feel within ourselves, so far within us, that it remains intact though all the outer character seem gone; bleeds with keenest anguish at the undraped spectacle of a valor-ruined man."

"...he presided over his whale-boat as if the most deadly encounter were but a dinner, and his crew all invited guests."

"...for every one knows that this earthly air, whether ashore or afloat, is terribly infected with the nameless miseries of the numberless mortals who have died exhaling it..."

"...he seemed as unnecessary there as another mast."

"More than once did he put forth the faint blossom of a look, which, in any other man, would have soon flowered out in a smile."

"Old age is always wakeful; as if, the longer linked with life, the less man has to do with aught that looks like death."

"For a Khan of the plank, and a king of the sea, and a great lord of Leviathans was Ahab."

"Aye, aye! and I'll chase him round Good Hope, and round the horn, and round the norway maelstrom, and round perdition's flames before I give him up."

"He tasks me; he heaps me; I see in him outrageous strength, with an inscrutable malice sinewing it."

"Talk not to me of blasphemy, man; I'd strike the sun if it insulted me."

"Oh, hard! that to fire others, the match itself must needs be wasting!"

>"Because a laugh's the wisest, easiest answer to all that's queer;"

"Dance on, lads, you're young; I was once."

"Now would all the waves were women, then I'd go drown..."

"For not only are whalemen as a body unexempt from that ignorance and superstitiousness hereditary to all sailors; but of all sailors, they are by all odds the most directly brought into contact with whatever is appallingly astonishing in the sea; face to face they not only eye its greatest marvels, but, hand to jaw, give battle to them."

"...it cannot be much matter of surprise that some whalemen should go still further in their superstitions; declaring Moby Dick not only ubiquitous, but immortal (for immortality is but ubiquity in time)..."

"...all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified, and made practically assailable in Moby Dick. He piled upon the whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart's shell upon it."

"...all my means are sane, my motive and my object mad."

"Though in many of its aspects this visible world seems formed in love, the invisible spheres were formed in fright."

"For God's sake, be economical with your lamps and candles! not a gallon you burn, but at least one drop of man's blood was spilled for it."

"There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke, though the wit thereof he but dimly discerns, and more than suspects that the joke is at nobody's expense but his own."

The Loft, The Loft, The Loft Is On Fire

You know, my friend Jeremy has a blog where he reviews all of the shows that he goes to. He does an excellent job and sees many more bands than his "older, married with kids" friend can (me if you needed to be told.) So I figured I might try to cover an aspect of the musical venues that he doesn't really talk about.

Becoming a firefighter years ago forever changed my thinking. I tend to want to quantify danger in any situation. A few months ago when we went to an upscale hotel bar after dinner, I couldn't help thinking what I would do if the far corner of the room caught on fire. It plays out in my head kind of like the W.O.P.R contemplated World War III, only I'm not as fast or smart.

Anyway, my career choice coupled with what happened at the Great White show at The Station Nightclub in Rhode Island in 2003 (currently the fourth most deadly nightclub fire in the US) leaves me going to shows and looking for ways out of the building. So I think I will begin to review the venues themselves from a fire safety standpoint. I'm not trying to take the place of the Fire Marshal here, I'm just theorizing on how the building itself would affect a fire. Let's start with the venue for my last show, which was covered in the previous post.

The Loft

1374 West Peachtree Street

Atlanta, GA 30309

Capacity: 800

Visited on: August 18, 2008

Reason for visit: Bands - Steel Train and The Hush Sound

What Could Burn: The Loft is located in an old office building of sorts. It's typical fire-resistive construction: concrete. This makes it really good for withstanding fires since the building won't burn readily. However, as we all learned when the "Fireproof" Winecoff Hotel burned, it's the contents, stupid! But The Loft has this covered as it is very sparsely decorated (I really can't figure out where the pictures that are on the website were taken. It doesn't look anything like that.) Almost no furniture save for the actual bar. Nothing on the walls. No drop ceiling. Except for the stage there really isn't anything that could catch on fire. So The Loft passes my construction/contents test pretty well.

Egress: A couple of years ago I met someone who was staying in the Winecoff Hotel the night of the fire (It's still the deadliest hotel fire in US history with 119 dead, most of them teenagers.) This person related the events of that night and then added that from that night on, every time he stayed in a hotel he would get to his room and then count the number of doorways to the nearest exit. He said he did this so that he could find the exit in the dark and smoke by feeling the doors. That's experience talking. How many of us blow off the lecture that the flight attendants give about the emergency exits on the plane? It's the same thing, really. I know I don't want to die in a hotel, at least not the ones I can afford to stay in.

The Loft is located on the second floor so it's not out of reach of ladders (most nightclubs aren't.) But unlike most other nightclubs The Loft has many large floor to ceiling windows that happen to overlook West Peachtree. Don't let this fool you. Most windows in mid-rise and hi-rise office buildings aren't regular glass. They're impregnated with plastics and other materials to make them strong enough to stand up to the stresses that large buildings encounter. You aren't just going to throw a chair through the window like in the movies (unless you're thinking of Die Hard when he tries in vain to break the window with the chair, in which case: EXACTLY!)

But windows aren't really how you want to leave a structure if given a choice. No, you want to go out the regular exits. There were only two marked that I could see from in front of the stage. I didn't check out the second one since it was behind a pair of double doors guarded by security, but the other one was the main entrance to the establishment. This is the way most people leave in an emergency; they go out the way they came in (precisely why so many people died in the Station fire.) The only problem with the way we came in is that it included a flight of stairs. In a panic people are likely to bottleneck in the stairwell and then trampling and crushing starts, which only makes things worse and more desperate. Me? I've got my eye on that second exit behind the double doors. I venture to say that only 5% of the people in the bar would exit that way so it's probably going to be much safer. So from an egress point of view The Loft doesn't really pass the test for Joe and Jane bar/club patron who aren't paying attention to that kind of thing.

Fire Protection: The Loft has fire sprinkler coverage everywhere that I could see. This is really good. The idea is that the sprinklers put the fire out before it gets to be a big fire. (Nobody burns up but we do still have a stampede in the stairwell like we talked about.) That's all provided that the system is maintained as it should be. But there's nothing to suggest it isn't so...

Miscellaneous: The only other real problem I have with The Loft is how dark it is. In between bands the only lights in the joint were from the stage and the dimly lit bar. It was enough to get around but I really couldn't see people's faces or my feet. I know that bars aren't supposed to be brightly lit, but in this post we're talking about safety not ambience. Take that dark and add some really nasty black smoke from a fire and you have a situation in which people won't be able to see those two exit signs marking the way out. Just another reason to familiarize yourself with their location.

There isn't any smoking allowed in the main area of the bar or near the stage. Since it's the only real thing that could catch on fire in the place that's a plus.

Overall: When you consider all of the smaller venues in Atlanta, The Loft is one of the safer places to see a band that I have been in. I still recommend checking the place out and noting the locations of the exits and anything that might block your path to them, but overall, you should relax and enjoy the show. I did.

Steel Train and The Hush Sound

That title almost sounds like a book title, but it's really the names of two of the four bands that played at the Loft in Atlanta last night. We didn't arrive in time to see the first band of the night but just in time for Steel Train (who were the reason we were there.)

Now, I briefly reviewed the Steel Train album previously but I didn't speak much about anything else. It goes like this: a fellow Cub Scout Leader from my son's pack recommended Steel Train after his nanny said that's what she was listening to. Please understand that this isn't how it worked in my musical life before. For a long, long time I walked into the record store and asked Michael and Jeremy what was out that was good. They'd pile me up some cd's (sometimes a real stack) and I'd buy them without listening. So it's a little odd to get some of my current favorite music the way I did.

I love Steel Train's live show as much as I love their album. They take the stage and own it. Even though they were the second band in a four band line-up, even though they took the stage at 7:50 they took the stage like everyone was there to see them. I said it before, they just bleed confidence. They play as though you were there to see them exclusively (which I was) and judging by crowd reaction, they may have made a few converts last night

They approach the audience as though their acceptance is a foregone conclusion, at one point moving seamlessly from one song to the next without waiting for applause, and at another encircling one mic and singing together as though they were in a bar. It could easily come off as cocky, pretentious, or self-indulgent, but instead it makes you feel like you're being let into their circle a little. It's something that a band with twice their time together might do, but, like I said, it works amazingly for them. They even went as far as to cover ABBA's Mamma Mia which was a little daring considering the average age of the audience (I have always loved ABBA.)



The next band on the stage was The Cab. I didn't really care for the songwriting or maybe it's their style. I definitely didn't care for the hair. I know I sound old but it wasn't the length of the hair that was the problem. It was the fact that it played such a large part in this band's stage presence. The keyboardist swirled his head to the right every ten seconds to reset his hair so that it was covering his face. The drummer's excessively long hair flew around his head; a most certain distraction to anyone serious about seeing his kit, quickly remedied with a rubber band. The guitarist's locks are too messed up; the kind of hair that took a long time to get to look like you don't care how it looks.

Anyway, we stayed for the Hush Sound based on some of what we had heard on their MySpace page (which is about all MySpace is useful for at this point in my opinion.) I was very impressed with their show. The singing duties are passed between a pretty blonde keyboardist and the guitarist who looks kind of like Carl Newman but sounds like Ben Folds.

I really dug their set even though I hadn't heard 95% of it more than once. They eventually called members from all of the other bands up to help out on songs, but the highlight was inviting all of Steel Train on stage to perform The Jackson 5's I Want You Back. The stage was packed and it was a load of fun.



The band also performed a very respectable cover of Back In The USSR. It struck me while they were performing that it was entirely possible that many in the audience didn't know it wasn't "one of their new songs."

If you couldn't tell I had a really great time. Thanks to Keith and Helen for coming into town and getting me the tickets (for my birthday.) Steel Train will be returning to Atlanta this fall and I hope you all can come out if you're in the area.

See, They've Got A Name For It

I've written on this very subject for some time, even comparing the feeling to the same movie that this article does. Which I suppose only bolsters my argument about my life being a television show. I mean what better plot development than for me to read an article that confirms what I've been thinking all along. Click on the "Truman" label at the bottom of the article to see my other posts on the subject.

The following is an article which appeared in the Newsweek that just arrived in my mailbox:

When LIfe Is Like a TV Show
-Jesse Ellison

As a director of psychiatrics at New York's Bellevue Hospital Center, Joel Gold has seen thousands of delusional patients. But a few years ago, he began noticing a different sort of paranoia: young white men who believed they were the subjects of their own reality-TV shows. Some, says Gold, who with his brother has written a preliminary paper and hopes to author a larger study, seemed pleased by their roles—excited by the anticipated million-dollar payout. Others were tormented. One came to New York to check whether the World Trade Center had actually fallen—believing 9/11 to be an elaborate plot twist in his personal storyline. Another came to climb the Statue of Liberty, believing that he'd be reunited with his high-school girlfriend at the top, and finally be released from the "show."

Grandiose, paranoid delusions are a staple among schizophrenics and psychopaths. Typically, they apply to one aspect of a patient's life—say, irrationally believing a spouse is cheating. But these patients, much like Jim Carrey's character in the 1998 film "The Truman Show," believe their entire lives are being broadcast, and that everyone is in on the joke. The numbers are small—Gold has observed only five firsthand and has heard from or about more than a dozen since—but he and others think "The Truman Show Delusion," as Gold now calls it, is the pathological product of our insatiable appetite for self-exposure. Delusions are often related to the larger cultural and political climate: during the cold war some people thought they were being monitored by the KGB. Today, some might think Al Qaeda is after them. When all it takes is a Webcam and the click of a mouse to be seen and heard by millions, and with hundreds of surveillance cameras capturing our movements each day, it's not necessary to go on "Big Brother" to feel like you're in the public eye. "If you have a predisposition to paranoia, going on YouTube and seeing some guy doing something can really shake you up," says Gold. You could think, "Is the world watching me?" Perhaps the key to sanity is knowing that while the whole world isn't watching, someone probably is.

Steel Train - Trampoline

Now, I could pepper this review with all kinds of phrases like "a rollicking good time" or "ear candy" but let's just suffice it to say that it's good. Really good. Never before have I heard an album this good...about real tragedy. You see, Jack Antanoff the lead singer and songwriter for the band experienced a series of personal tragedies. That coupled with the lasting emotional effects of the attacks on the World Trade Center make for some really heavy lyrics. And there are only one or two songs on this album that don't mention these directly, which should make for some really depressing music. But instead, most of the songs are upbeat and a lot of fun.

What's more, this band didn't sound anything like this before this album. Before this they were folky and considerably more mopey. They're actually signed to a label known for mopey. Don't ask me how but apparently multiple tragedies in someone's life can beget some of the best straight rock and roll I've heard in a while.

The album opens with "I Feel Weird" which hits you like the moment, after falling asleep in front of the television, when you wake up and realize just how loud the TV is. It jumps in with both feet and doesn't let up for three very solid minutes. There's something about the sound, maybe the bells, that reminds me of Bruce Springsteen. Steel Train is from New Jersey so maybe there's something there. But I don't like Springsteen, so....

From there we move right into one of the best songs on the album; "Black Eye." It proceeds like a song that knows you're already hooked on the album. I can't really explain it, but the song just bleeds confidence. I had the chance to see these guys live last month and this song is a real crowd pleaser. All I could do was stand in the crowd, pound my heel into the floor, and smile ear to ear.

"Kill Monsters In The Rain" channels Grandaddy with a heavier bass drum. That's what all of the songs on the album have in common; a driving beat that doesn't let up. It's great. The song takes on a more disco flavor but that's not an insult. It's done very well.

The best song on the album is it's slowest. "Dakota" reminds me lyrically of Crash Test Dummies' "Mmmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm." Both are songs about misfits and the trouble they find in their lives. Musically I would have thought this was a Fountains of Wayne song if I hadn't known better. It's achingly beautiful and a real treat to listen to with headphones (check it out.)

"Firecracker"...well, "Firecracker" is perfect. That's all I'm gonna say about that.

The only track on the album that I don't feel really good about is "School Is For Losers." That one feels like it's trying too hard to rock. It's got good parts to it and I don't generally skip over it.

So give it a listen. I'm on about my two hundredth. It's a good thing there's no needle to wear the CD down.

Photo Caption Contest

It's been a while since we've had one of these. So, here it is.

The rules? Give a caption for what this guy is thinking to himself right now.

He's A Drag. A Well Known Drag.

It's a pretty well known fact that I don't do well in bars, a fact that I once again proved last night. You see, a bunch of us got together to celebrate a few of the group's birthdays at a trendy restaurant/bar downtown. After about five hours I went outside until Paula was ready to leave. I'm pretty sure that a few in the group came away with the idea that I was pissed at the end of the night. So here are a few reasons I wasn't pissed; at least maybe not for the reasons they think.

1. "I"m sorry, what was that?"

I've always had a real problem hearing in noisy situations. No, it's not me getting old. It's not even overexposure to sirens and air horns. I don't know how to explain it. It's not loud noises. I just can't seem to filter out one sound in a room full of similar sounds; one voice in a room full of shouting voices. I feel myself constantly leaning in and asking someone to repeat themselves. Which gets pretty annoying for me so I can only assume it's doubly annoying for the person that I keep mindlessly nodding and smiling at. Not to mention the fact that the constant noise begins to get to me. My leg starts to nervously bounce and I eventually clench my jaw resulting in a raging headache.

2. "None for me, thank you."

I don't drink. Never have. Never will. Lot's of people know that about me. Unfortunately a lot of them probably think that I don't enjoy bars because I don't agree with drinking. And twenty years ago that used to be the way I thought. But now? Well, now I really don't have a problem with drinking (the non-alcoholic variety.)

There was a moment many years ago when I decided I was going to take a drink. I remember thinking that my life would be a little easier if I did. Not because I might use alcohol to cancel out any aspect of my life. No, it really was just a desire to fit in. And apparently that was the moment when I became okay with the idea of drinking. It was like lifting a weight off of my psyche. I never did take a drink, but it was a real sea change in my thinking. It sounds a little stupid, I guess, but that's how it happened.

So, the problem now isn't an objection to alcohol as a substance. No, the problem is that as a twelve year old I made a promise to the man upstairs not to ever drink. The promise went something like "I promise to never drink if everything in my life goes okay." Sure it sounds kind of like a stupid promise, but I've kept my end of the deal. And so has he. If I was to start drinking and something bad happened to Paula or the boys, I wouldn't ever forgive myself.

I don't sit in bars and obsess over some of the unpleasant things about my life that were directly related to alcohol use. Instead I find myself full of regret; regret I ever made that promise. You see, I love my wife and will do just about anything for her, except take a drink. So a night in a bar leaves me feeling very inadequate as a husband and friend. I can't be that guy for my wife. And the longer the night goes on the more angry with myself I get. After that, anyone kidding with me about taking a drink, no matter how innocent the joke, doesn't strike me as funny. It's more like salt in the wound. The end result is that I'm pretty pissed off with myself and just no fun.

3. "Isn't there a Surgeon General's warning about those?"

Cigarettes seem to have a cumulative effect on my mood. At first I can tolerate them pretty well, but in a bar it doesn't take long before I've reached my tolerance. The bar last night was even on a second story patio with a really good breeze. But somehow all I could smell was the cigarette smoke. That with the constant noise just overloads my senses.

4. "Really, I'm okay."

Rather than ruin the mood of the party by staying, I often I end up leaving the immediate area. I get out of the noise and smoke to let my senses off the hook for a while. Invariably what happens is friends start to try and get me to return which inexplicably annoys me. I know they mean well, but I really just want to "decompress."

In conclusion, This entry isn't me looking for pity. Not at all. I've made my choice and am willing to live by it. But that doesn't make it any less hard or irritating for me. So, if any of my friends from last night, or previous nights out, are reading this I sincerely hope that I didn't significantly dampen the mood. I did have a good time for as long as I had a good time. Sorry I left without saying goodbye to all of you.

I've Got An Itch

It all started this morning. I had fallen asleep on the couch last night, as I often do, and woke up around 6:00 in the morning. I turned off the television and went to bed to sleep for another hour until the boys got up. The area around my waste itched and I chalked it up to the elastic waistband in my shorts. But when I got up to take a shower I was amazed to find about thirty nickel sized welts all over my torso.

That's when the itching started. I figured I had picked up some chiggers at Stone Mountain the day before so I sat down at the computer to read about them (God bless Google.) The article dispelled a bunch of the myths surrounding chiggers but I found out that some of the information in the Wikipedia article wasn't true to my case.

So here's my guide to chiggers separating fact from fiction:

1. Chiggers burrow under the skin and poop. The poop is what causes the itching.

FALSE - Chiggers don't burrow and it's their saliva that causes the itching. They don't drink blood they drink liquified skin cells. How do I know? Well, I read it and the picture to the right happens to be an actual picture of one of the chiggers on me (I used Ben and Luke's Eyeclops electronic magnifier that they got for Christmas last year. It came in real handy since you can't use a magnifying glass to see something on your waistline that's 1/150th of an inch.) The chigger is the larval stage of the harvest mite. It has six legs but when it matures it will have eight.

2. You can get rid of chiggers by putting nail polish over the area. The nail polish will suffocate the chigger.

FALSE - Nail polish might kill them but it won't stop the itching. That damage is already done by the time the welt appears. Rubbing alcohol and a really hot bath of epsom salts doesn't kill them either. Nope the Eyeclops doesn't lie. Those bad boys were still moving their legs after all of those treatments.

3. You can get the chigger off with a piece of scotch tape.

FALSE - Not scotch tape, duct tape, electrical tape, razors, or a dried patch of Elmer's glue. None of those pulled the chigger off of my skin. The only thing that did was some hair removal strips that I found under the bathroom sink. The wax on the strip is gooey enough to get into the microscopic crevices of your skin and attach to the chigger. The picture at the right is of one of the wax strips with the bugger trapped in a honey grave. On the plus side you get baby soft hair free patches of very itchy skin.

4. A warm soapy bath is all you need to rid yourself of the chiggers.

FALSE - I tried a hot soapy bath and with the Eyeclops found the guys unmoved. I then took a scotchbrite scouring pad and scoured my whole body in a very hot shower. No luck. A bath of very hot water with epsom salts. Still no luck.

5. Chiggers are not transferrable.

TRUE - Once a chigger bites it uses its feeding tube. If it's dislodged before it finishes the tube breaks off, thus the chigger larvae is doomed to die an early and hungry death. And besides, as you can see above it's really hard to get them off of you. If you don't believe me just ask Ben and Luke who are completely unaffected even though they were all over me the rest of the day. Ben even climbed into bed with me in the early morning.

So what have we learned? Well....

1. Wikipedia isn't always right (there's a newsflash.)

2. Don't sit on a lichen covered rock in the shade near the tree line at Stone Mountain.

3. The Eyeclops is a really handy toy and oddly unsettling.

Sharon Stone Angers China

That's one of the headlines that is on the Comcast website right now. I don't know why it amuses me so much, but it cracks me the hell up. I didn't even bother to read the article because I know it can't live up the headline.

I can totally see some dudes naming their band this.

Just Because

I was reading Luke a bedtime story last night and had a brainstorm. Here's something for your pleasure. Or your pain. Maybe both.

Fox In Socks.

So Now Then...

My last couple of posts have been things that I expect a certain amount of readers to approach skeptically. One of the posts is still hard for me to swallow (and I was there) and the other comes off as over dramatized sentimentality for the sake of...well...sentimentality.

That being said, why stop now. I'm gonna spin ya' another yarn that you probably are going to think I'm embellishing. The only problem is that it's true. Every bit of it.
About a month ago we were watching some television after dinner and the boys were playing. I can't remember what the show was but it's usually Animal Planet or Discovery if the boys are still up.

Well, during one of the commercial breaks that happened to feature a pretty model Luke says, "She's hot." I turned to look at him and then at Paula. We didn't say anything because we didn't want to encourage him. You see, Luke likes to be funny. I don't mean he likes to tell jokes. No he sits and waits for an opportunity to say something you don't expect.

Now, before we go any further, let me say that he didn't get it from me. At least I don't think so. I don't sit around the television and comment on who is pretty and who isn't. But I may have jokingly said it about someone who wasn't particularly hot. So you can see where Luke might have thought he was being funny.

Like I said before, we basically ignored it and went back to watching the commercials. Except that a minute later Luke says it again. I gave him a "Luke!" Not the "You're in trouble 'Luke!'" but the "I can't believe you just said that 'Luke!'"

This time he said it during a make-up commercial with the current Assistant District Attorney from Law And Order: Alana De La Garza (pictured at right.) His "joke" just happens to be timed when the woman on the television is hot. And the same could be said for the first commercial but I can't remember who was in it.

So it shouldn't have surprised me when a couple of moments later another attractive woman graced the screen hawking something and he said it again; "She's hot."

I really didn't know what to say and from the look on Paula's face, neither did she. In our stunned silence, Luke added this gem, "My penis is sticking out."

I couldn't believe it. I know that he didn't get THAT from me! What the hell is going on?!! What's going on at that school he goes to?!!

As dumbstruck as I was I knew I had to say something. And the only words that came to mind were these: "Leave it alone and it will go away."

Which, as it happens, is what Paula tells me.

Happy Birthday, Luke

April of 2004, a couple of robins made a nest on top of a gutter under the soffet of our house. The nest was just outside of our kitchen window and made for really good viewing for Ben. To get him a better view I rigged an old video camera up to a monitor and zoomed in so that Ben could see the little baby birds popping their heads up when the food arrived.

We counted four babies and Ben and I both enjoyed watching them. It wasn't long before they were covered in fluffy down and starting to look a little crowded in their quarters. Even with the windows closed you could hear their enthusiastic chirping whenever Mom or Dad returned to the nest.

Paula was pregnant with Luke at this time. Really pregnant with a scheduled delivery date of May 13th. I was feeling pretty nervous; more nervous than when we had Ben. You see, Ben didn't scare me until they took him out and he was horribly cyanotic (medical jargon for when you turn blue from lack of oxygen.) So with the history of Ben's birth and the previous two miscarriages I was beginning to really get myself worked up.

Now, in previous instances when I thought I was in control of my outward appearance I found out later that I wasn't concealing a thing. Case in point: when I cut the first 3/4 of an inch of the end of my finger off in high school and calmly proceeded to the front office. I was told later that my complexion was a muted green and my eyes were wide as saucers.

But this time I was not going to let on to Paula any of my worry because she is a worrier and I didn't want to add to it. Besides, the birds were a really good omen. So I repeated to her my usual, "Everything will be okay."

Two days before we were to head to the hospital, we were busy making preparations. We had noticed the day before that the baby robins had left the nest for the world. Concerned about them, I searched the bushes below the nest and the rest of the yard to no avail. Hours later I spotted one of the babies in the yard with what appeared to be a hurt leg. This didn't help to ease my nerves any. After all, I was reasonably sure that the bird couldn't survive with a hurt leg.

The following day I spotted another of the babies learning to fly, with the father close by. Instantly in my mind I was the father and the bird learning its way was Ben, and that made me feel much better. But I still couldn't find the other two babies. I looked and looked but had to get back to chores.

One hour later, I found the third baby dead in the grass. Even though I had searched the yard thoroughly, and kept my eyes scanning constantly, I had apparently killed it with the lawnmower. My heart sank. I'm sure anyone watching would have thought I was wiping sweat away as I continued to mow. The next day, on the way to the hospital I prayed in earnest for that little bird.

In spite of my worrying, Lucas was born without complications much to my relief. At first the doctors thought he couldn't hear, but that cleared up in a day or two. Luke is doing great, and, consequently, I have to think that everything turned out alright for that fourth little robin. Despite the fact that, as the nurses pointed out in the delivery room, he was born at 1313 hrs on the 13th of May. (I don't subscribe to the superstition of any "unlucky number." But bird signs? Well, bird signs are different, right?)

He's four years old today and an incredible little kid. He's small for his age but has a maturity about him like his brother. He sure can make me laugh, and he can be sweet and devious simultaneously. But I'm often not as hard on him as I am Ben, no matter how hard I try to be fair. Probably because in my mind, he'll always be that little bird. The one that worried me so much, and that, to this day, I look for whenever I'm in the yard.

A Sign

"...There are stories of coincidence and chance and intersections and strange things told and which is which and who only knows. And we generally say, "Well if that was in movie I wouldn't believe it." Someone's so and so met someone else's so and so and so on. And it is in the humble opinion of this narrator that strange things happen all the time...and so it goes and so it goes. And the book says, "We may be through with the past, but the past ain't through with us."

-Magnolia-

Something happened a few years ago which I have told only a few people. But events in my life have gotten me thinking about it again so I'm here to tell anyone that will listen.

I was standing in the engine bay watching a terrible thunderstorm. It was early summer and about mid-afternoon. The skies were purple and the trees were white as their leaves turned over in the wind. The lightning and thunder were building but still a ways away.

Suddenly a bolt of lightning creased the sky directly in front of me. It appeared to hit in the neighborhood across the street from the station. I ran inside (fearful of getting struck) and to warn everyone else that we were about to get a call.

It wasn't but a minute later that the bell went off dispatching us to a house on fire hit by lightning in the direction of the strike that I had witnessed.

Even though we were on scene within four minutes, all of that heavy rain had stopped. Neighbors were in the street pointing to a house which didn't show any immediate signs of fire. When I got out and talked to them they reported that lightning had struck a tree in the front yard of the house and that smoke had been seen coming from the gable vent near the tree.

Now lightning and fire can both do amazing things especially when they're working together. The neighbors went on to explain that the house was empty; the homeowner was at work.

We went to work laddering the roof and looking into all of the windows for any sign of smoke or flame. I walked around the house looking into each window, but like most windows you can only see around the blinds or curtains, etc.

As I got around the front of the house with nothing out of the ordinary to report, one of the guys on the roof called for me to come up and check something out. They hadn't been able to find any signs of fire but directed me to an attic vent and told me to take a long whiff. I could smell a scented candle. It was very distinct. Not exactly what you expect of a house struck by lightning and reported to be smoking prior to our arrival.

Now, we don't go breaking down doors unless we have to. And in this situation I didn't want to find myself explaining breaking down a door to a homeowner who might not like his nosey neighbors.

We can't explain the fragrant smell but the house doesn't appear to be in any danger at the moment. I decide that we're done here, and as I'm about to start climbing down the ladder, Lil' Cap (the guys gave him that name, not me) comes running around the house to the front and calls for our medic bag.

I follow him to the back deck and he promptly kicks it in. There isn't anyone that I can see but he charges in and then moves into an adjacent room to a sofa where a man is unconscious. Cap would later tell me he saw just the end of the man's foot through the slats of the blinds.

We start our assessment and find the man completely unresponsive. His blood sugar reading is so low that the monitor doesn't read numbers; he's in a diabetic coma and without sugar immediately might suffer irreversible brain damage or die. A few minutes later, after administering some sugar the man comes around. He explains that he is a friend of the homeowner's that is staying with him for a few days and that he is a diabetic. That explained his condition and the fact that the neighbors didn't think anyone was home. The rest is what I couldn't explain.

I couldn't explain how we got there, but only recount the events: We were led to the house by a lightning strike, delayed on scene by the smell of a candle long enough for Cap to look through a window that had been looked into by at least five different firefighters and see just the man's toes on the couch in a room with no windows.

Now I'm not a very religious man. I have always professed a belief in God and like many have been plagued with doubts. But that day was a turning point for me and I hope it was a turning point in that man's life. Like I told him as he sat on the couch, "God wants you alive."

That's it. I'm not testifying or anything. But take it for what you want. And it really happened, just like I said. So chalk it up to coincidence if you want to. Call it a series of random events that I have connected like a run of dominoes. Just remember this - dominoes still require someone to knock the first one down.

Contradictions Of The Day

Well, not really of the day. More like the last week.

1. While at the Taste Of Marietta today there was a local auto dealer that had vehicles on display. They were featuring a hybrid SUV. That's a contradiction in terms in my book, but as I got closer I realized that I was mistaken: the sticker on the vehicle said that it gets an amazing 22 mpg on the highway. It is a hybrid!

2. The gentleman riding his bike through town taking long drags on a cigarette. 'Nuff said.

3. It's a long story but the fire department I work for has enacted a policy which ensures 70% consistency. Why not 80% consistency you ask? Because it's just as asinine.

Top Soil

I've been away from the computer for a while. I apologize. It's just that we've been doing landscaping in the yard for the last couple of weeks. As well as working my body to the limits I learned a couple of lessons.

1. If the man you call for soil asks "screened or not screened" choose screened. Even though it's twice as much it won't come with broken glass, a four foot section of iron pipe, clods of compacted dirt the size of basketballs, the entire root system of a tree, broken cinder blocks, and a golf ball.

2. Rent a bobcat. Shoveling fifteen cubic yards (a dump truck full) will wear on your arms. After the first twelve hours they felt like all of the bones were broken. The second day wasn't any better. Just another reason to get the screened soil. A couple years ago I shoveled a dump truck load of screened soil in four hours.

Zulu Vs. Black Hawk Down

I don't really have a knack for reviewing movies but I do enjoy connecting things that at first glance aren't similar. Here goes:

	Zulu	Black Hawk Down
When The Film Takes Place:	January 22-23, 1879	October 3-4, 1993
Year Film Was Released:	1964	2001
Takes Place In:	Natal, South Africa	Mogadishu, Somalia
Actually Filmed In:	South Africa	Morocco (apparently Mogadishu still wasn't safe)
Incendiary Oversimplification of the Plot:	Some white guys kill a lot of black guys.	Some white guys kill a lot of black guys.
Depicts:	The Battle Of Rorke's Drift where 139 British soldiers successfully defended their small garrison against 4000 Zulu warriors who had become fed up with having the British as neighbors.	The Battle Of Mogadishu where American military forces attempted to capture members of a warlord's clan. During the raid, two Black Hawk helicopters were shot down in the city which was increasingly hostile.
Dead:	British Soldiers: 15 Zulu Warriors: 370	American Soldiers: 19 Somalis: 133 to 1000. Since most of the dead were "civilian militia" there isn't an accurate count.
Politics of the film:	Really doesn't address it. Nothing is said about why the British are in Africa (Ivory?) or whether they should be there at all. The movie ends as a statement against the horrors of war. Without injecting politics the filmmakers effectively comment on the nastiness of war whether "justified" or not while at the same time celebrating the efforts of the soldiers.	Stays way the hell away from politics. And for good reason. If you don't remember this battle by name, surely you will remember American soldiers' bodies being paraded through the streets of Mogadishu. The closest the movie gets to political commentary is when one of the characters reveals to his fellow soldiers that he truly wants to help the Somali people. Obviously, were not talking about the Somalis that our protagonists fight the entire movie. At the end we are left with the realization that war sucks.
Main character:	Lt. John Chard, a Royal Engineer sent to build a bridge. Instead, as the most senior man he finds himself leading the defense of the garrison. Oh, and he's a "proper gentleman."	Matt Eversman, who is placed in charge of a group of Army Rangers just before the raid due to another soldier's illness.
Voice of The Opposition:	Reverend Otto Witt who arrives at the garrison to warn the soldiers to leave. He is instead detained within the fort, gets drunk, and yells things like, "you're all going to die" for a good part of the movie.	Arms dealer Atto who is detained early in the movie and comments to the general in charge that the United States has injected itself into a civil war. The general replies that 300,000 dead isn't a civil war, "it's genocide."
Medals Won By the Actual Participants:	11 Victoria Crosses 5 Distinguished Conduct Medals	2 Medals Of Honor 6 Silver Stars 10 Bronze Stars 1 Distinguished Flying Cross 1 DeFleury Medal 1 Oak Leaf 2 Purple Hearts
Main Actors Playing Against Their Nationality:	Nigel Green (South Africa)	Eric Bana (Australia) Ewan McGregor (UK) Orlando Bloom (UK) Ewen Bremner (UK) Kim Coates (Canada) Hugh Dancy (UK) Loan Gruffudd (UK) (Holy crap! Why so many Brits?!)
Word From the Film That I Had to Look Up:	"Malingering"	"Urbane"
How We Begin:	Printed history of the event read by Sir Richard Burton.	Titles to get the audience up to date on the situation at hand. Also included is the quote, "Only the dead have seen the end of war," which is erroneously attributed to Plato.
Unintentionally Funny Line:	"Damn you Chard! Damn all you butchers!" [pronounced "booochers"]	Soldier: "Colonel, they're shooting at us. Lt. Col. McKnight: "Well, shoot back."
Geek Facts:	Ridley Scott, the director of Black Hawk Down, loves the film Zulu so much he used the actual Zulu war chant during the opening battle of his film Gladiator.	Michael Caine in Zulu. Michael Caine to Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality. Sandra Bullock to Jeff Daniels in Speed. Jeff Daniels to Laura Linney in Squid and the Whale. Laura Linney to Ed Harris in The Truman Show. Ed Harris to Sam Shephard in The Right Stuff. Sam Shepard in Black Hawk Down.

So the movies are more similar than not. What's this prove? Not much other than I don't have enough to do with my free time. I like both of the movies, in case you were wondering.

Photo Caption Contest - The Results Show

Okay, okay. So I never judged the results from the photo contest back in October 2007. Let the fury and vitriol gush forth aplenty.


This was probably the most unsuccessful of these things that I've hosted. I don't know if it was the picture or the rules that I placed on it. Anyway, for better or worse, here goes:

First Place
Wm. for "Give me one good reason why you're keeping that mustache."

It seems to be my refrain when judging these things; it was far from obvious and I surprised myself with it. It still strikes me as funny. Like this couple would be having a discussion about his grooming habits while floating down the street with a door full of beer. I don't know.

Minus 55 points for giving yourself First Place. Score = 45 points.


Second Place
Jeremy Frye for "The North American Redneck (Bocephi Earhardticus)..."

Jeremy actually followed the rules for this one and unlike the other entries (mine included) it's not bad. I do like this particular phrase: "Efficiency is key, and shirts have been rendered vestigial, at best, amongst females, and evolutionarily jettisoned entirely by males." There's an economy in word choice here that is very true to the idea of the encyclopedia entry concept.

Minus fifty eight points for making me look up "vestigial" yet again. Score = 42

Third Place
Paula for "One kitchen door: $15. Bride price of your uncle's niece: $50. Floating beer and a babe: priceless."

Not bad. The concept has been overdone as a corruption of the original and for me now ranks with the "been there, done that" saying. Still, "Bride price" is a funny phrase not to mention the use of the word "babe" to describe the woman in the picture. She's a catch alright.

Minus sixty three points for waiting so frikkin' long to participate in one of these. And this isn't my only way of communicating. Score = 37

Honorable Mention
Everyone that tried. Really. This one was difficult. I blame the people in the picture, because it can't be my fault. It never is.




First Place
Mr. Doob for "8:30 Blossom (NBC) On a Very Special Episode, Blossom befriends a popular cheerleader at school only to discover the girl's dark secret. The growing teen issue of 'Sharking' is brought to light and Blossom faces a peer pressure as never before. Special appearances by Nancy Reagan, Mr. T and Roy Scheider."

I have to give it to this one for the intentionally mismatched choice of guest stars. You always knew when you watched this kind of television that the guest stars weren't who they wanted but who they could afford to get. I tried this concept when I invoked the ghost of Willie Aames' career, but the "smattering" strategy works much better.

Minus eight points for using a really, really bad show. Score = 92

Second Place
Chosen©er for "Shark. Tonight, James Woods (Shark) heads to court against Shark (not James Woods). Use of staccato dialogue delivery will make you think something is interesting when it's really not. At all."

The multiple uses of the word shark for comic effect reminds me of the Smothers Brothers routine "You Didn't Come In" where Dick accuses Tommy of being stupid for not being stupid. Well, you'll just have to trust me; it's funny. Also the commentary on shows like this using techniques such as staccato dialogue to hide the fact that the show isn't really compelling hits home.

Minus twenty points for taking twelve days to come up with an entry. Score = 80

Third Place
Jeremy Frye for "Saved By The Bell Sat. 11:00 a.m. (NBC) In order to get tickets to the sold-out Bobby Brown concert, Zach Morris must take the local radio DJ's horribly disfigured daughter as his date. Initially repulsed, Morris learns that even ugly girls with superfluous shark-like appendages are people, too."

I like this one for the phrase "superfluous shark-like appendages." That's it.

Minus thirty three points because I like the sound of the phrase "thirty three". Score = 67

Honorable Mention
Wm for "9:30 Three's Company: The College Years. While completing community service in the school infirmary, Jack passes himself off as a Doctor to impress student Holly and is forced to perform a shark-ectomy when Holly's boyfriend shows up. Jack falls down."

After writing this one I got confused and couldn't remember if this was a real episode of Three's Company or not. You know, I never could understand the sex appeal of any of that show's stars.

Minus fifty one points for making Jack fall down one more time. Score = 49

Brent Cash - How Will I Know If I'm Awake

I'm overdue in announcing that a friend of mine has an album out. Brent's awesome and I had always hoped he would make it; looks like now he's on his way. The album sounds like a Sunday afternoon to me. Go to his website to check out clips of the songs and read some of the awesome reviews this album has gotten.

He's getting airplay on the BBC and college stations are playing him here in the states. Support your local record stores and request they stock this album!

(And if'n you ain't got no recurd store near ya', itz rite thar on tha iTunes fer ya ta dayonload.)

Kickin' It In Williamsburg

(Stock photo from Google. Items shown are more visible than they appeared on our trip.)

Sorry that I haven't updated for a while but we've been in Colonial Williamsburg on a family vacation for the last five days.

You know, I read a reader submitted editorial to Newsweek a few years ago that lamented the demise of the long road trip with kids. This editorial claimed that, with the advent of all of the personal entertainment devices, we have become families of strangers. Now, I agree with that claim to a point, but the author argued that a prime victim of this technology was the road trip and all of the horrible parts of it. I will counter that cordless headphones and individual dvd players mounted in the backs of the front seat head rests of your father-in-law's brand new SUV make the nine hour trip bearable. I don't relish the arguments, tensions, complaints, and everything else that we all are guilty of when cooped up with one another in a car for extended periods. Not having to experience that one more time doesn't leave me feeling cheated. That's right, an extremely large "Thank You" to Larry.

Anyway, we stopped over in Charlotte on the way up and visited Keith and Helen for an hour or so. They were nice enough to drive over to our hotel and drink a milkshake with me while Paula rested with the kids.

Colonial Williamsburg was really nice. We apparently hit it a little off season. There were a smattering of people dressed up and giving visitors a view into the history and politics of the time period, but the boys didn't get to see some guys playing the fife and drums or some soldiers drilling with muskets. Unfortunately for the boys there was a little more history than entertainment.

But we did get to see blacksmiths, silversmiths, a basket weaver, a cloth weaver (?), a wig maker, saddle makers, and a wagon wheel maker while at work. The boys really liked the blacksmiths and I have to say they were one of my favorite parts of our visit. I love the smell of the coal and the work really appealed to me.

The title of this post is a little bit of an inside joke. You see, the whole time we were in Colonial Williamsburg the boys kicked the small pebbles that covered all of the walkways. I felt like I was telling them not to kick the rocks about once every ten minutes.

After two days in Colonial Williamsburg we spent our last day visiting the Jamestown Settlement where the boys got to visit an Indian village, a recreation of the Jamestown Fort, and recreations of the ships that carried the residents of Jamestown to the New World.

Enough talking, here are a bunch of the pictures from our trip.

This is the Governor's Palace with a few of the "locals" riding up to the gate.


Here we are visiting the wagon wheel maker. He makes all of the wheels for the carriages by hand. It was amazing to watch. The boys couldn't have cared less.


These are the gardens behind the Governor's Palace. There was a maze in a section of bushes that the boys really enjoyed.


Dinnertime in the kitchen of the Governor's Palace. We saw demonstrations of some of the foods that people ate at the time. We also learned that George Washington's favorite ice cream was "Oyster" flavored. Ick.


Luke in the foyer of the Palace. As explained by our tour guide, the foyer was about as far as most of us would have gotten past the door.


Here are the boys on Gloucester Street. You can see one of the carriages in the background. It's original to the time period (circa 1780). The horses aren't original.


The hats were expensive but worth it. The boys loved them.


As you can see, they rarely came off of their heads.


Here the boys learn about basket weaving.


Here, the boys and a couple other boys get to drill with one of the soldiers at the Magazine, where the British stole the colonists' black powder. Ben tried hard but Luke seemed distracted.


I finally had enough with the kicking of the rocks and resorted to the punishment of the times.


Standing guard over some of the colony's supplies. A wooden musket comes at a premium price like the hats but the boys loved them and had to be ordered to not carry them into restaurants or around the hotel.


This was taken at the Jamestown Settlement Museum. They had some stuff out for kids and adults to touch like the dead raccoon and the bandolier.


Luke wouldn't have anything to do with the dead raccoon.


Here the boys pose with a Jamestown Settler/Soldier who had just demonstrated his musket with an actual firing. Very loud. Very awesome.


We get to try on some armor circa 1607.


Paula and the boys get into a canoe that has been hollowed out with fire like the Powhatan indians did in the 17th century. Sweet.

Well, that's it. We had a lot of fun.