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I will occasionally listen to Country music, and nobody knows it except, now, you. It’s a sickness. I tried for so long to hate Country music because it just wasn’t what I favored. Give me the Ramones or Nirvana any day. But my roots, they lie in the stylings of Golden Oldies and early Country. I remember sitting on the floor in my grandparent’s home in Iowa watching the Grand Ole Opry showing artists like Loretta Lynn and Kenny Rogers.

I guess I never actually hated Country, I just hated the stigma attached to it. The Nascar-loving-turnip-eatin’-pick-up-drivin’-farmer-tanned-Cowboy-hat-and-boot-wearing-redneck stigma. Fans get such a bad rep and it’s unfair. I’d go so far as to say there is actually a larger fan base for Country music than any other genre. It is, for the most part, wholesome music. All about family and God and good times, except when it’s about cheatin’ boyfriends/girlfriends/wives/husbands and depressing events.

Dougie was online tonight, so an impromptu interview was staged in order to take up space in this update:

windy: Meeeester doog, do you listen to Country music?
Dougie: Well, yes. I can’t stand people who respond to a question about what sort of music they listen to with, “Anything but Country!” Are they completely serious? If I gave them a recording of my gran gargling to the theme of the Pink Panther, would they rather listen to that than some Country music?
windy: But I use that answer frequently, does that mean you can’t stand moi??
Dougie: It doesn’t mean that at all, because you’ve been (untill now) a closet country music fan. I can’t stand the closed-minded people who won’t listen to it. Especially the hypocritical girls who will tell you they don’t listen to Country, then jump onto the dance floor at the first bar of 9-5.
windy: To answer your question above, I’d have to say let me hear your gran. She might sing pretty well.
Dougie: Why are you answering my questions, I thought you were interviewing me.
windy: I am, but you know how well I pay attention. What was your reaction when I told you my BIG secret?
Dougie: I was super pleased that my good friend was cool enough to admit to listening to Country music. I still love her, no matter what, and I support her 100%
windy: You are too kind Dougie. My biggest supporter, after my bra. Is there a big fan base for Country music(usa style) over in Scotland? I always imagined that our country music was, well, mostly limited to the USA
Dougie: I think so, just not with people our age (that’s a big range). A few months ago I went to see Willie Nelson live in concert, which was pretty much sold out.
windy: Willie is pretty awesome in my book. How was the concert?
Dougie: It was great, it was a pretty big venue but it was all acoustic like so seemed really small and intimate, his guitar has a hole worn in it where his hand rests when he plays it.
windy: That’s a pretty interesting tidbit that I bet most people would overlook! I’ve always been a bigger fan of the old-school country stars, having been subjected to hours of the Grand Ole Opry when I was a kid. The gentle twang of a guitar and harsh, honest lyrics made the music worth listening to. Nowadays it all seems to be about flashy videos and an electric entourage of band members. I don’t enjoy the music of, say, 1995 to now as much as I enjoy listening to the classics. If you had to choose, which would you prefer: old school or new school Country music?
Dougie: heehee, you said twang. I think I prefer old school Country.
windy: Good choice!
Dougie: But then again, there’s no honky-tonk badonkadonk in old school.
windy: There used to be some variety show on tv, and it was so corny, but usually had Country stars on it. Know what I’m talking about?
Dougie: Nope, no such thing in UKland.
windy: It was called Hee-Haw.
Dougie: heehee, sadly I’ve never heard of it
windy: This has to be on youtube somewhere. I’m going to look.
Dougie: Okay, so this part of the interview will be all silent, yeah?
windy: Yes, hum to yourself

windy: Not much out there in the way of episodes, but I’ve found the lovely intro. So, I need one last question for my interview that I had literally no time to think up questions for. What image(s) comes to mind when you think of Country music?
Dougie: The Blues Brothers performing Rawhide and Stand By Your Man at Bob’s Country Bunker behind the chicken wire, with the flying bottles.
windy: I just think of pick-up trucks, guitars and good looking guys in tight jeans and silly cowboy hats
Dougie: Is that whether someone mentions Country music or just your general thoughts of a day?
windy: Both really, but I’m not including that in the update.

Thanks Dougie for another fine interview. This concludes my update on Country music. Now enjoy a smoking giraffe.

I am pleased to say that today, I tried something new. Brussels sprouts without cheese taste completely disgusting, and I will never do that again. Ever. I also attended church. But not just any church. A church with a rock band, cartoons and really comfortable chairs. It was more like a pep rally than church, if you discount all the scriptural musings by that young guy on stage…in jeans and a polo shirt. Wait, what? You don’t say…

My little nephew was being dedicated today, which is like a baptism without the holy water and repeats of promises and duties and all that. In fact, I’ve had it explained to me about five times now and still can’t correctly explain the difference between a dedication, a baptism and a christening. The dedication was short really.

“Do you promise to bring up this child all christian-like?”
“Yep”
“Sweet”

I noticed when I arrived at the church that I was over dressed. I had slacks and a nice sleeveless top on instead of my normal church attire of jeans and a clean t-shirt. Little did I know, I could have worn shorts and a t-shirt and still looked the part of your average church-goer this morning. This was the first sign that this place was a little different from any normal church. Instantly I liked this place. Back in my day, when I still went to church on a semi-regular basis, you had to dress in nice clothing to visit the house of the Lord. It was a sign of respect. But I personally feel that God doesn’t care what you wear as long as you pass on his good word and don’t kill anyone(however, I’m agnostic and don’t really belive in “God” anyway).

Then there was the music. It was catchy pop rock style God music. You could hear it from the parking lot, and it only got louder as you walked into the auditorium. Drummer, bass and lead guitar, several vocalists and projection screens with the lyrics. Good grief, it was almost a straight-up concert. The tunes were downright catchy too. I tried to have a bit of fun by clapping along in time and throwing in some jazz hands for good measure. My companions were none too appreciative of my having a good time. Perhaps they thought I was mocking the Christ concert. Who knows. I just wanted to enjoy myself as long as I was in church.

As far as sermons go, this one wasn’t too boring. The minister would read a passage then talk about how it relates to real life situations, often citing from his own family experiences. It wasn’t that the bible stories were hard to understand, but it was refreshing to hear only parts of a verse with some explanations fitted in, instead of straight bible reading, which can be dry and boring, followed by an hour of sermon.

I mentioned cartoons. There were a few pauses in the sermon for breaks(?) where they showed “commercials” on the projection screens. Todays theme of commercials was Real American Dad, since it is Fathers Day. They also played clips from Family Guy and the Simpson’s in there somewhere during a break. If they ever showed cartoon clips at my old church, whomever was responsible would surely be kicked out of the congregation for being so bold and creative. I had no complaints, other than I wish they would have shown a whole episode of one or the other. Showing Family Guy at church might almost be enough to make me start going again.

All in all it seems a pretty hip place, if you like attending church and believing in Jesus and miracles. They even put podcasts of the sermons online. It was a fairly relaxed atmosphere though, as they don’t pressure you into anything. Skip the communion and offering if you want. Or show up at the very end for muffins and juice. As someone had mentioned, it was like a hippy church. No pressure man, just do what you want, man. Don’t like getting up before 9am to make the service? Come in for the 10:30, or come by Saturday afternoon at 5PM so you can just sleep in on Sunday.

Generally when family members ask me “what do you want for [insert holiday]”, I have absolutely no clue what to say. So when my birthday rolled around last week, I was anxious about receiving a gift that I had actually asked for. For once I knew what I wanted and fully expected to see it on my birthday - tickets to see Soul Asylum. For over a month I resisted purchasing tickets for myself. Do you know how difficult that was? Very! If I don’t buy something the instant I think of it, I’ll never get around to doing so and curse myself afterward for missing out on a good opportunity.

Now, I had never had the good fortune of seeing Soul Asylum in concert back in their prime. Granted they had just a few well known songs, but every one was a gem of a tune. Misery, Runaway Train, Just Like Anyone, String of Pearls, Somebody to Shove. Train is probably the only one that everybody will recognize, but the other tracks had their fair share of air play. I had faith that every one of these songs would be played at the show and I could pretend it was 1994ish all over again.

I’ll say this one time, and one time only. I was happy for once to look my age. Thinking back, I’m surprised I was never stopped at all, but I’m ahead of myself here. The concert I was attending happened to be held at one of the area casino’s. I’ve been to concerts in the casino before; great sound, awesome vibe, no one under 21 allowed to gain entrance. It’s guaranteed to be a great time when all is said and done. Being that this concert was a 21 and over show, resident cops were positioned at certain checkpoints for ID verification. Now, normally I don’t get carded going into the casino, only when buying drinks. I thought of all this on my way through the main entrance when I saw the cops. Instantly I had an oh crap moment. Why? Well, my stupid self had left my ID at home. Twenty minutes away in good traffic, thirty minutes through road construction. Given that it was 8:52 PM and the concert started at 9PM I was worried. VERY worried. I didn’t want to have to drive all the way home and miss most of the concert.

As I made my way down the hallway to the first gaggle of law enforcers, I found myself mixed in with a crowd of people my age-ish. I tried not to walk too fast or too slow, you know, to keep on the down low. The guys stopped some younger gals for an ID check, and I was in. Woo! So far so- dammit. More police ahead by the stairs where my “group” was headed. Thinking fast, I broke off for the restaurant around the corner where there also just happened to be an escalator. Ha, I win. I headed down toward the lounge where, good god, more cops. Now what! Gahh this just gets worse. I notice about six guys, plus the ticket-taking lady. Think, think! In a desperate attempt, I walk up past the cops, all the while rifling in my purse for the tickets. I figured that if I kept my head down I’d be ok. At this point I heard music. DAMMIT, the concert was already going on. This would be a really bad time to get caught. I’d never make it home and back in time for Soul Asylum. I made it past the badges and handed the lady my tickets. Luckily, she was in just as much of a hurry to get people through as I was to get my butt safely inside. Success!

I was kinda pissed off that the opening band had already performed as I wanted to see them. However, there was no time for complaints. I searched around for a seat, another near impossible task, until I spotted couple alone in a giant booth. I politely asked to sit with them and they agreed. Huzzah for old people. Huhwait? Old people. I was sitting with a couple as old as my parents. Then I looked at the table next to me. They were all at least 40. The table to my front, 50s again. What. The. Hell.

I was getting a little creeped out. I really should have been tipped off when My mom asked what I had gotten in the envelope the night before. “Tickets for Soul Asylum mum, a 90s band“, I said. “I know who they are Windy” She cut me off to say. Pardon me. I know my mom is pretty hep, but still. She doesn’t listen to my kind of music often. So yeah, here I was, in the minority by age. Lucky I wasn’t carded on my way in judging by the average age of the crowd.

It took about thirty minutes before Soul Asylum came on stage. I had plenty of time to gawk at the crowd of fans. There were the normal people(like moi), the preps, the groupies, a few goth-y looking patrons, plenty of leather-clad biker folk, men with mullets, women with mullets, older women in too-tight clothing, fat men in ill-fitting clothing and more. It was an “all walks of life” kind of crowd that night. It was nice though, to finally be at a concert where I’m one of the younger people around. Seeing bands like Blink 182 live was always awkward for me.

I will honestly say that trying to describe the concert itself would do the band no justice. Everything sounded superb and the band performed with such enthusiasm that if anyone there didn’t have a good time, I’d really be amazed. The band played for a good hour and a half before taking a short break and coming back for another 30 or so minute encore. Speaking of encores, they opened it up with a cover of Rhinestone Cowboy. I couldn’t believe my ears. I’m not a huge fan of the song, but they played it well. Also done was a cover of Cruel Intentions. Again, not a fan of the song really, but it was done with such heart and soul.

Anyway, remember the table full of old people in front of me? I mentioned it, up there^^. This was a drunken wacky bunch of folks. First of all, they had to get up and dance at every given moment. Dancing is ok but do it down front so I can still see the band :mad face: One of the women had to constantly call someone and wave the phone in the air for the whole song. I had a few problems with this:

1. The phone is in my way!
2. The music will sound just as crappy whether you hold the phone in the air or place it on the table. PUT IT DOWN.
3. If I were your friend, I’d be so hating you right now. Stop it. Seriously.

This same woman also later appeared to be on acid or something. During Shove, she began to do what I’d describe as playing piano. Only she was using the table. And her hands were going all crazy-like, bouncing quickly along like that dot over words in a Disney sing-along. I couldn’t help but become fixated on her hands, and it seemed I wasn’t the only one. People all around were pointing and snickering. It was more distracting than the cell-phone waving. As funny as all this was, nothing tops the teapot dance.

Out of nowhere, this rotund little woman came twirling through the crowd and stopped her travels to the right of where I was sitting. She was oblivious to everything but herself and the music. It was poetic really, and enjoyable to see someone lost in the moment. However, I have no doubt she was three sheets to the wind. I loved watching her dance though. As my friend described it, it “looks like she learned the teapot dance at the age of 5 and never learned anything else”. For those not familiar, she had one arm out - bent up at the elbow, and again at the wrist - like a spout, and the other arm bent down with a hand on her hip, like a teapot handle. Then she just sort of rocked back and forth while slowly twirling around.

In Conclusion
If I had to rate the concert, I’d give four stars out of a possible five. They never played String of Pearls, which made me sad, so I took away a whole star.

Ambiance, five of five. There is something about the concert hall in the casino that makes me fell gooey and happy inside. The lighting and backdrop are like no other. There isn’t a bad seat in the house, and getting close to the stage is easy as pie.

Price of admission, five of five. Granted my tickets were free, but at a cost of $20 per, the price was way reasonable for the performance.

Would I see the band again, hells yes. I hear they will be back in WI for another show later this year, though it’s subject to change. I’d definitely make the trip to go see them, and hopefully have my song played so that I may one day die happy.

February has been synonymous with cold so far. Single digits and sub-zero temperatures. Huzzah! Monday the forecast was simply blistering cold with a chance of snow or something. The high for the day was negative seven. MINUS SEVEN, with wind chill of -22. Hella cold to say the least. When I arrived home to my drafty apartment, I got to wishing I was back in Florida. Ahhh Florida, with your enticing beaches and delightfully warm weather. My winter fantasy. What I wouldn’t give to go back right now. Lets walk down memory lane…

Last October I took a trip down to Sunny FLA to visit family and worship the manatees. This was my third trip south in eight years so I wanted to do it up right. I wanted to spend as much time oggling manatees as possible since I worship the water they swim in. Such gentle creatures. They are naturally friendly and curious because they haven’t a single natural enemy. These creatures amaze me, and are the driving force behind why I want to study marine biology more in depth. I’m getting off track here. Manatees, I’d seen only one in prior visits to Disney World, so this trip was all about getting some quality time in with the manatee population of Florida.

So I’m in Florida for a week with my very own rental car, a PT Cruiser. Horrible car, but it did its job. I had scheduled several interactive activities to get myself as close to manatees as legally possible. I was happiest to look forward to :drumroll: snorkeling with manatees!!! Oh. My. God. I had looked forward to this for months. I had to get up at 4AM to make it to the tour by 6AM and get fitted for my wetsuit and stuff. There were about twelve people going on the dive and each was almost as eager as I was to hop in that cold cold water. We all watched a video on safety and how not to get arrested while snorkeling. Then we were driven out to meet our guide, Capt. Wayne. Wayne was pure awesome. He was passionate about the manatees and he had much to teach us about how to properly interact with and get the most out of our experience with the manatees. He also had hot cocoa.

The boat trip was a very chilly twenty minute ride out to a sanctioned part of the Crystal River where diving is permitted. Everyone donned their snorkels and masks and hopped in the water to hunt down the manatees. For being a tad early into the winter season, there were many manatees to be seen. I merely had to float around and they’d just appear seemingly out of nowhere. Some floated up to the surface where everyone was allowed to photograph and touch - even kiss - the manatee. Quite a few were hanging around the boat, playing with the anchor rope and ladder. I can’t even explain the awesomeness. I had forever looked forward to chillin with manatee’s, and here I was, floating next to one and scritching it behind his little head. There had never been a happier moment in my life until now. That is how delightful it was.

After about two hours of flitting around with manatees I really had to pee. Badly. The woman who fitted everyone with suits had told us “If you gotta go, go”. When you’re in a wet wetsuit, and you take off said wetsuit, it’s nigh impossible to get back in. I could not force myself to pee no matter what I tried. I floated off by myself a few times but to no avail. It was almost painful. I decided to head back to the boat, figuring I’d had my experience, and just get out before my bladder burst open. I swam slowly over to the boat where I ran into a tour mate and we started talking about how hard it was to try and pee while wearing a wetsuit. After a fun-filled ten minutes he swam around the boat and I decided to get on out when - it - happened. Oh yes. I peed in the river. I know it’s gross, but I’ll admit it felt good to finally go. I just wish my body hadn’t waited until I was right by the boat. How embarrassing. I swam away immediately because, well, even with a current in the water I didn’t want to hover near the scene of the crime.

Right away there was a tap on my shoulder. My friend from the ladder had come to get me. A manatee was on the other side of the boat swimming right up to people. Sweet! He proceeded to let me know that the manatee had been hanging out by the anchor, chewing on the rope and swimming around under the boat. Oh god. I developed a lump in my stomach. I think I may have peed on a manatee! Dear god, that’s just evil. My first life-changing interactive swim with manatees and I peed on one. I was sick. I mean, chances are good that I didn’t eliminate directly above it, but still. I was riddled with guilt the rest of the day.

The boat stayed out for two more hours before it was time to head back to the shop. What a trip. The entire experience was well worth the money and I even captured a few images to remember the swim by. I definitely would do it again in a heartbeat. It’s so surreal to just float in the water and have a manatee come up to observe you, not the other way around.

Hope you enjoyed my embarrassing story.

I attended a Christmas gathering yesterday for employees of an apartment complex where I help my father to clear snow. I know two people who work there, older guys on the maintenance staff. They can be fun to listen to, but I wouldn’t make a point to do so every day. I only showed up at the party for two reasons. Dad asked me if I wanted to go, and there was to be free food. Score. I didn’t intend to mingle with the rest of the staff, which was all well and good since they were too busy playing drinking games to even notice someone new had come in.

After feeding on some chips and veggies, I witnessed a rather odd gift exchange among some of the employees. It was a sort of unorganized Secret Santa where all the gifts were pretty much useless and/or embarrassing. I couldn’t understand how it worked, and neither did my brother. We just sat and watched the hilarity ensue as each gift was unwrapped. These gifts ranged from candy to kids toys, deodorant to pregnancy tests and douche. Yes, feminine wash. And yes, a guy got the gift.

No one wanted the Summer’s Eve wash, but it was the “hot” gift at the table. The box passed through as many hands as the pregnancy test, and eventually was opened with wide eyed curiosity. How the hell does this work was a question posed by several drunk males along with What is it as in, what is it made of. Old Ed, probably in his sixties, looking more like seventies, was drunk. I assume. I only hope he was because he had walked over to the table, unwrapped a bottle of the douche and took a swig of it. Several NO ED’s were called out but it was too late. We were all sickened by the mere thought of what we just saw and many scurried from the room, presumably to the restrooms for a gagfest. Gross Ed.

After about ten minutes had passed and we’d had our laugh over Ed, one of the other guys grabbed the bottle and began messing around with it. He was trying to figure out how the bottle actually worked “in there”. Well, he found out the hard way as he gave the bottle a good squeeze and sprayed liquid all over his face and shirt. Now that was funny. It was made funnier still to see it happen a second time as one of the ladies tried to spray yet another guy with the douche and got herself all wet instead.

About this time I had the beginnings of thoughts to leave the party. I ate free food and drank free soda. I witnessed the highlights of the afternoon. It couldn’t really get more entertaining, so I figured leaving on the high note would be a good way to go. Nope. As I’m discussing my exit strategy with my brother, Ed comes back in the room(he’d been gone for a good fifteen minutes) and grabs the bottle again, downing the rest of it like it’s his beer. I didn’t know whether to laugh or vomit.

I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands lately so I’ve been catching up on my music. There are a few bands I’ve wanted to post about but I really haven’t much else to say about them than LISTEN DAMMIT. This is good stuff.

Persephone’s Bees
Anyone who knows me can vouch for the fact that I enjoy listening to new bands of nearly all genre’s. Most of the time I am introduced to a new band and think “hey, this is pretty nifty” and then completely forget about them for a few days, months or even years. One such treasure is Persephone’s Bees, a small band vocalized by Russian beauty Angelina Moysov.

Their music tends to be all over the place as far as style goes. A little Punk, 60s Brit-pop, New Wave and Electronica stirred together into a tasty morsal of ear candy. Persephone’s Bees has what it takes to transcend the age and genre barrier with songs that can appeal to almost anyone and everyone. I can honestly say that I wouldn’t be surprised if my own mother enjoyed listening to A Peek Into The Underworld as much as I do.

I was re-introduced to Bees by accident a few weeks ago while listening to my local alternative station to win concert tickets. They were in the middle of a retro/indie music discovery tour, a program to introduce listeners to new or little known bands. Nice Day came on and I was instantly smitten with the catchy melody. And everything about Angelina’s voice made me go “oooh” as I listened to her sing. The voice of an angel, and one mighty similar to Sia; Sexy and hypnotic.

Today Dougie and I did a whole Siskel & Ebert style review, writing one paragraph at a time until the review was finished. Enjoy!

Almost everyone in the civilized world knows who David Blaine is. If you’re not one of the thousands that have seen his street magic TV shows, or one of the hundreds that watched him sit in a suspended fish tank in London, you’ve probably read about his stunts in the newspaper, seen him talked about on the evening news, or overheard that woman with the red hair and nose piercing talk about him to the guy with the blue trainers in the park while you were buying ice cream.

For those of you living under a rock or in the middle of the Saharan desert, David Blaine is a street magician who fools the average passer-by with his levitation stunts or card tricks. He makes the unbelievable happen, bringing smiles to the faces of both children and adults all over the world as he astounds them with slight of hand. He has performed stunts that would make his idol, the late Harry Houdini, quite proud. But are these stunts really magical or are they merely a mildly entertaining way to boost his celebrity?

The latest way he’s found test himself was to live in a rather large goldfish bowl (in New York) for 1 week, then attempt to escape from his watery domain whilst removing 150lb of chains he will be attached to. His other task is to remain under water for 9 minutes with no air supply. This part is being hailed as record breaking, although fellow magicians Chris Angel and Teller (from Penn and Teller) have also achieved this feat. Other notable people who have succeeded at the challenge include Aquaman (who was later disqualified for cheating), and this starfish. The baby from Nirvana’s Nevermind album came close to the record, but did not quite make it.

As mentioned above, David Blaine set out to accomplish two tasks. One, hold his breath for nine minutes. Two, remove all the handcuffs and chains and whatnot that were secured to his shriveled, pruney hands and ankles. He failed at both tasks. Both of them! The whole stunt failed. There was a two hour special devoted to this failure, and I will never get that time back. But I think what really bothered me was that he couldn’t remove the chains. It’s not like he was trying to slip out from the locked cuffs, he had a key. All Blaine had to do was unlock everything and he would have at least accomplished one of his goals. For all the months of training with diving experts and navy seals, he should have spent a little more time practicing how to unlock a locked chain. Better yet, set the breath-holding record first, then practice his key-turning skills, and *then* combine both acts into a fantabulous publicity stunt. Perhaps tossing a monkey wearing scuba gear and a clown hat into the bowl for added distraction to liven it up a little.

What annoys me even more is that he is constantly allowed, and given precious TV hours, to do nothing. He spent a week in water, doing nothing. He spent a month and a half suspended in his box, doing nothing. He spent 61 hours in an ice ‘closet”, doing nothing. He stood on a piller for 35 hours, doing nothing. Never have we as viewers got so little out of television since James Lipton’s Inside The Actors Studio with the cast of Will & Grace. For once can’t he try doing something? Like spending 36 hours on fire. Or maybe chasing rabbits non-stop for three weeks. It really does appear that Blaine insists on doing as little as humanly possible for his money.

I can’t blame him for this of course. Faced with the same situation I too would milk it for all it’s worth. “We”, and I use that term quite loosely since I do not consider myself part of the lame collective, demand it. “We” buy his over priced videos and watch his overhyped specials that are 20% content, 80% advertisement. “We” keep begging for more outrageous, more dangerous stunts. What “we” do not ask for though is a man floating in water for a week. Sitting in a suspended box or block of ice? Hell yeah. Starvation and sleep deprivation lead to a certain kind of paranoia that is only entertaining to a select few. The same select few that shouted in disgust at the television last night when David Blaine:

1. Failed to break the record for holding breath under water
2. Failed to unlock all the chains from his body
3. Didn’t die or fall into a coma

There are, of course, some who declare that it is irrelevant whether or not the original task is completed successfully. These are the people who declare what Blaine does is art, in its purest form. In modern society, it is difficult to clearly define what art is. Can we still declare that the Mona Lisa is art when we say that “This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed at home” (the body of a pig, cut in half, each half preserved in formaldehyde) by Damien Hirst is art? Should Blaine work alongside Damien Hirst, and fight off shark attacks while submerged in formaldehyde for a month? If Blaine considers his stunts as art, should he be made retire from magic, so his endurance tests can be treated as such without people seeing him as the guy that can levitate? Do “we” choose not to see the difference between his magic and his stunts, or are “we” led into this by Blaine’s powers of persuasion?

Be it art or a bag of magic tricks, one thing is certainly true. David Blaine is a performer. Much like Cher or Bozo the Clown, David Blaine entertains the public in a way that leaves them delighted and begging for more. Unless a camera is following him on a daily basis, the general public will not have a chance to experience the magic that is David Blaine, therefore television specials must be produced. But some his tricks are so specialized one can only view so many specials before yawning and flipping to a new station for something else to watch. Hence the need for large, albeit boring, stunts. Stunts that even I will sit through because it is the final outcome that keeps me coming back for more.

Well, not a “win” per say, but last nights season premier was a hit, and everything I hoped it would be. Matt and Trey made use of the episode to get in as many jabs at Scientology as they could. All, naturally, as a retort to the feud over the “trapped” episode, I mentioned yesterday, that ultimately resulted in Hayes leaving the show.

First there was a report that Isaac Hayes quit South Park due to his stance on the “religion” of Scientology. Next there is some controversy on the alleged announcement. Supposedly the Scientologists made a statement on behalf of Hayes without consulting him. Then there are reports that “Chef” will be back. We find this to mean that the character is going to be back, not that Hayes has decided to stay in contract. He is still no longer with the show.

So what gives? What is all the hub-bub and how did it come to be? Long story short, Hayes, a Scientologist, became upset over the mocking in a recently aired South Park episode called “Trapped In A Closet”. The episode poked fun at Scientology as a whole, along with Tom Cruise and John Travolta. This upset Hayes and he wanted out of his contract.

Any fan of South Park knows that Matt and Trey have built their little empire on making fun of everyone and everything. Their very first episode featured a fight between Jesus and Santa Claus over the true meaning of Christmas in the episode “The Spirit of Christmas”. Isaac was present as the voice of beloved Chef through many a mocking episodes. He was there when they dealt with 9-11, he was there when they made fun of the pope. Through out the last nine years he has been contributing to episodes that make fun of race, religion and character. South Park has never missed a beat when it came to tackling subjects that other shows were afraid to touch, and Hayes was right there with them, until now.

“Trapped” has since been pulled off the air. While tentatively a rumor, it has been reported that Tom Cruise, Hollywoods largest Scientology supporting buffoon, may have had a heavy hand in removing the episode from airing again. Heaven forbid his name and likeness is used in a satire. I wonder, would he do the same if SNL performed a skit mocking his sexual and religious preferences? Hey look, Jimmy Kimmel is making fun of you in a light-hearted way Tom, go pull his show off the air!

Last night as I was getting into my car, my stupid static-clingy hair got caught in the seat belt again, and that hurts. It also hurts when it gets caught in the door, the window, or when I roll over while sleeping and end up pulling my own hair because I’m laying on it. On the way home I decided that I would just swing past the parlor and get it trimmed. Unlike last time, they were fairly busy and couldn’t fit me in straight away. After 20 minutes of waiting it was my turn, and a tall man who spoke some pretty broken English led me to a chair in back.

Hair Dude: You wanted a trim?
windy: Yeah, about four inches or so.
Hair Dude: That is not a trim!
windy: Sure it is.
Hair Dude: You want layers? It builds body.
windy: Hells yeah!

He washed my hair with pretty smelling shampoo and commenced layering my tattered thin locks. The whole process took a lot longer than I’m used to(about 15-20 minutes) but my hair looks much healthier now than it has in a long time. It’s also a much shorter length than I had expected, about eight inches shorter instead of four. And for the first time in almost fifteen years my bangs are not longer than the rest of my hair so it’s taking some getting used to.

This morning One of the guys in back complimented me on the cut. Not five minutes later I was by my sister demanding a piece of a bagel.

Sister: You should get your hair cut
windy: I just did last night!
Nonster: Didn’t you just hear her talking about it?
Sister: No.

——————————————–I was watching part of Romeo & Juliet last night to fall asleep, but to my dismay it wasn’t the lame one from the 60’s, it was the trendified remake from 1996. I remember seeing this movie in the theater with my roommate from college. I’ve never read the play, but I’ve had to study it several times so I knew the story. In fact, I know people who never had to study Shakespeare who know how the story went. They die at the end. It’s common knowledge. The whole forbidden love thing, two families divided. Common freaking knowledge. Now, I kid you not, there were two girls seated in front of us who only came to the movie to see the teen crush heart-throb sensation Leonardo DiCaprio with his tussled blonde locks and handsome looking eyes.

Girl 1: I can’t believe they died.
Girl 2: D’int you see the tv, it’s not the real end. They’re gonna make a sequel
Girl 1: No man, this is it. They’re totally dead. Weak.
Girl 2: I can’t believe I paid for this

——————————————– I added another link to the post about the fuzzy lobster. It includes an interesting pdf file documenting the new species and also some additional photos.