Correction

Sorry. I meant to say craptivity.

go back to your lives,
b

missed another birthday

well, this year has been a strange one for birthdays. i guess i'm just usually not this busy and scatterbraindead, but i realized a second ago that i missed yet another one. my one year blog birthday.
nov. 23rd of 2003 i started this blog out of boredom and with illusions of parlaying it into a seven book deal with Penguin Publications. well, Penguin has not returned my calls, siting in an email my lack of punctuation, capitalization, and general writing skill.
but, i am optimistic that someday this will serve some purpose someday to someone, if not just distractionary.
i have learned a little about what to publish and who to publish it about, how to get across my thoughts without telling the full story and pissing off the world, and how to make something so personal funny without mentioning my balls, which if you know me is difficult to do.
in person, so much of my comedy revolves around my balls, just like the universe.

here's to being ballcentric,
b

it comes in waves

maybe they call it bipolar disorder or manic depressiveness, but it really seems to come in waves.
desire, lust, determination, work ethic, creativity, money, luck. they all seem to ebb and flow. The key is to balancing each of these base principles. to be able to handle when one swells and creates problems or comes in lack and creates problems. sometimes it jacks me up. when multiple ones create issues, I shut down and cave in for about a day. Then, mystically everything levels out and resets. I'm able to get work done, brainstorm great ideas, and pay my bills, where just the day before it seemed the end was approaching and all those tasks would not be met.
today is one of those days where i have reset. i got groceries, made myself an omellette, called some schools to sell shows, started the boulder rolling on finding health insurance, booked a show in Minneapolis, danced with my reflection to a Christopher Cross song (reppin' 512,) and it's only 3:30. Plenty of day left to make more sweetness occur.

Here's my Graphic E. Q.


These are the main ones. There are other sub traits that also influence these, but I think these are the biggies. I think I'll make a beat for the Cupholder Rap album while I've got all this juice flowing in me and out of my brain.

Maybe it's the Christopher Cross that keeps me inspired.

"It's not far to Never Never Land."

b

faulty photos

went to florida for the holy day of thanksgiving. gave some thanks. took some pictures at awkward times, like pitch black night... or from too far away.


palm tree with naked duck (not pictured.)



blurry stamen.



turtle reconnaisance.



My Dad's dog, Chiquita Bananas.

Nothing else to report. Improv is still sweet.
Good night,
b

tx and iowa

photos from the arlington conference and our trip to iowa.







Ace's rockabilly album cover.





picture no. 3 of my Ace Running Into Crowds of Birds series



Bill?



Ace in a loading dock in Arlington.



Here's a picture of the beginning of hell. It's snowing right now like we haven't seen here in several months. It's probably not even snowing in Barrow, Alaska, my tropical getaway destination, #1. Why don't we check?

BARROW
the never ending story...

b

FYI

and fyi, i'm still listening to the same five journey songs i was listening to the other day.

right up my alley

improv everywhere

read the one titled anton chekov. select it on the left frame. oh, lordy, i nearly died laughing.

makes me long for the days of improv in weird places, which will return to make a chicago appearance next summer.

oh, golley, that's funny.

b

journey songs

i want to cover all the famous journey songs and put out an album. but i don't want to pay any royalties.

i just downloaded a bunch of journey illegaly. this is not a post about music copyright and piracy. don't worry, it doesn't really interest me that much, either.

this is a post about not stopping believing.

what is it about somebody else's stuff that looks so much better than mine? even when i've got pretty much the same thing. maybe even a better thing behind closed doors where it all turns to truth. the faces and acts we put on for the various people we encounter during the day have nothing to do with the real us once we turn out the lamp and put our head on the pillow. we can be the most confident, well-spoken, friendly, optimistic person in the world until it's time to drop the protective cover.

it seems like every couple days i reminisce about lost loves from the past. last night i was reminded of wendy from high school who wanted me to pick her up for a date one night. i went to her house to find a note on the front door and her car in the driveway. i grabbed the note and read it. she was breaking up with me via note taped to a door. when i got home i checked my answering machine. she had left a message, "hey, just in case you didn't get the note, etc, etc." it makes me wonder what face she had on for the month we had dated. sure, it was only a month and it was in high school so these kinds of stupid endings are expected, but how different would things be if i knew the real wendy? apparently, the real wendy wasn't interested in me.

i've had more crushes than a scottish soccer game. it's so easy for me to fall for a girl and picture myself married with kids. when i meet someone who seems to be everything i'm looking for, i fantasize about where we are, what our kids look like, her job, my job. and sometimes this is within an hour of meeting her. it's ridiculous. but like most people in a social situation, they are not wearing their normal face. thay have on some sort of "i want to impress this guy persona." then i get to know them and it turns out they have merely adjusted themselves to match my persona which is not always the true me either. eventually these two new personas find out they are not interested in one another. they're boring, or bitchy, or not funny. i think it's just a case of everyone not wanting to be alone and showing our true selves to someone too early dooms us to a lifetime of rejection. so we all put on faces and make like we're interested and interesting. just in case we don't mind wearing this face through months of courtship, engagement, years of marriage, right on into a grave. this is why closeted gay men just have to bust out and stop bullshitting themselves after years of "happy" marriage and just get out. it's a painful thing. and it's all because we wear faces.

i was thinking this morning about a crush from my past. one of those people who has everything going their way on the surface. incredibly talented, gorgeous, unique, and funny. or as i call it, T-GUF. my four requirements for marriage fantasies. anyway, she was all of those things. she was also someone else's and in the time that she was, i learned enough about her that the crush faded. because behind the facade was a sad, codependent, girl who needed more than i can give. and so, as per usual, i watched from a distance.
and thinking about her now makes me wonder how things might have been different, and how is she different now. now that a whole chunk of our lives is over and a new one is already in full swing, how has she changed and have i changed into someone who could take care of her when she needs it and think of her "problems" not as problems but as part of my life. our life. there i go. i'm doing it again. our life.

well, i'm sure she's doing great now. i haven't spoken to her in a long time. i'm sure she's growing too big for the place she's in and she'll be moving on soon. but i'd like to dance to some journey with her. incredibly loud and in a high school gym with soft lights and the smell of cheap perfume and spilt punch. The song would probably be "Open Arms" or "Oh, Sherry." and once the song ended, i'm not sure i'd even want it to go any further. i'm not sure i'd even want to talk to her or see her. maybe it could just fade into a mixed swirl of color that fades into this screen and this keyboard while my newly downloaded Journey plays "Don't Stop Believin'"

and then stop believing.

b

It's Raining Whale

Hallelujah, it's uh raining whale!

Lundblubber! Get it?

b

this takes comedy to a whole new level

i was looking at weather for chicago and just for kicks i thought i would check out the monthly averages for the country's northen most city, barrow, alaska. needles to say, it's very cold. but they're using it to their advantage and it looks like a great place to visit.

please take the time to explore this web site.

listen to the polar bear welcome

go to the king eider inn and check out the reservations page.

http://www.kingeider.net/king5.html

i probably laughed harder than you will at the whole web site but "ring my bell" has a special spot in my heart. especially when accompanied by a crappy graphic of someone ringing a bell.

i want to go. i want to do an avant garde improv show for them on a glacier using a live polar bear as a taxidermied statue of a dead polar bear in a living room scene in the thrashing pose. that, as every other statue in any improv scene, will come to life because no actor who is in a statue pose can ever resist the temptation to come ALIVE, as if its ever a surprise.

alright. that's all. i have to go back to calling schools but i'm going to leave this barrow page open so i can jam to the muzac tunes while i work.

that is all,
b

ODB RIP

Did I mention I'm Sort of Color Blind

found this on a web site for a college in Michigan.
------
'"Rhodopsin has to stay within the membrane to maintain its conformation (shape)," said Zand. "We engineered a protein called Cellular Retinoic Acid-binding Protein II (CRAP II) to use in research."

To understand the importance of this CRAP II protein, it's necessary to explain the process of vision. When the light hits the eye it passes through the cornea, the lens and the vitreous fluid. Those three objects focus the light on the tissue lining the inner part of the eye, which is the retina. The retina is made up of thousands of rod and cone cells that are activated through the absorption of light by Rhodopsin.

Zand and the researchers at Michigan State University have engineered the CRAP II protein to bind to Retinal instead of Retinoic Acid, and they are currently looking at whether they can prove these hypotheses by measuring how twisted the molecule is within the active site as well as trying to mimic the Rhodopsin in changing the positions of the negative charges.'
------

What happened to CRAP I ?
It's probably what causes my semi-colorblindness which always seems to surprise people. They always think I'm just a revolutionary dresser. Truth is, the colors I'm wearing are not the same colors you're seeing.

Oh well. CRAP Happens.

b

who'd uh thunk

i used to run tackle drills on this guy in high school. i never thought he could go this far.

http://www.bengals.com/team/players.asp?player_id=367

nice work, marcus.

b

well, what's the difference really?

i just had a brief small talk conversation with my butch lesbian neighbor. hey, how's it goin? fine, etc. we complained about our mailman and how ADD he is. i said he's probably a crack addict. we had a little laugh. then as i was opening my front door to go inside she said have a good night and i said you too, man.
i was already inside when i realized i had called her man. now man to me is just a friend'y way to say "acquaintance." i wonder if she heard me or was offended by it. i'm thinking she might take it as a compliment. i'm not totally sure and this is probably a crappy thing to say but i think butch lesbians have a desire to be men. that may not be true. i would consider them and most of them would consider themselves a different version of a woman. but let's just pretend that she took it as a huge compliment and it made her day. she runs upstairs and tells her girlfriend (also butch) that i called her a man and they both celebrate with glee and harvey wallbanger enemas. [i don't know]

it's late and i might have just insulted my neighbor. time to lay in bed and mull this over a bit. come up with some kind of nihilist/existential philosophy about how it's okay.

b

Good Improv and Gospel Superstardom

I saw some good improv last night. I was working lights for my buddies, Chuckle Sandwich, and the team they were playing with, Show Pony, put on a pretty good show. It had some of the typical novice mistakes and slowness but on the whole it was excellent. It's nearly impossible to describe an improv scene and fully translate the meaning and comedy of it but i'm about to try. there was a 2-person scene that started with a hot dog vender describing the hot dog and why it's great, leaving plenty of room for his partner to speak. the pacing was real nice. she said nothing so he continued and talked about how the hot dog was like america and how it will be gone before you know it, real good poetic subtext. just a well written scene that happened to be improvised. so he takes her money and gives her change. she says "gracias," and walks off ending the scene. really nice. and the way we would hope every scene could end. everyone in the room knew the scene was over, the audience laughed which is a nice lubrication into the next scene and some even clapped their appreciation. AHHHH, it's so nice to see people using their skills and talents for good. it made me want to be improvising right then.
Chuckle Sandwich also put in some good numbers. They're a real tight group and I hope the cupholders can work with them more in the future, and more closely. I'd like to do some sketches with them and definitely would like to do some improv. we'll see how that pans out.

__________________

I want to be a gospel superstar. I don't necessarily want all the faith or religious responsibility that comes with that, i just want to have the voice and the appearance that i spiritually have a clue. i'm working for a theatre right now that's running a gospel revue and every once in a while i get to watch some of the show. it's really killer. all the singers have incredible voices and their conviction for the reason they're singing is over powering. its hard for me to watch some songs without getting choked up, and i'm a grown man.

i was talking with someone who works at the theatre, who happens to also be studying at a Christian college at the moment. i was saying how i was jealous of the performers and sometimes the audience that gets up and dances or testifies with all their strength. he asked me why i was jealous and i said, "well, i guess because i don't see the light." he said, "It's not really a question of seeing the light." and then left that hanging for me to bite. "What is it then?" I took the bait. "It's more like commonsense." I nearly threw up in my mouth. Actually, I kind of pursed my "DON'T DO IT" lips and turned my head. I was arguing with myself in my head. Don't let him tell you that. Don't let him basically call you stupid for not being religious. No, just let it slide, it's not worth arguing with this guy when neither one of us is going to change our minds. It'll only make us subconcious enemies. so i didn't say anything. i wonder what he thought of me in that moment. probably that i was a fool.

to me, commonsense is turning your car off when you get gas or putting raw chicken in the freezer if your not going to eat it within a couple of days, or going out with an ugly gymnast. sure, she's ugly, but just imagine...

i've seen em all. every reaction to my situation of non-religion. i've had a girl dump me, i've had people crying in one huge group of disbelief, fear, and confusion (they were rural.) i've had people think i was stupid, misguided, amoral, unfit, and untapped. however, i've never been accused of not using commonsense by a devout religious person. even some religious people will agree that religion is based on faith and not sommonsense. isn't that kind of the point. the proof hasn't been provided to man so that when he shows faith, it becomes apparent that he believes. but for those 5 of us who don't have that faith, you can't say we're illogical. we are just merely not into what your into. and i have no qualms with anyone based on their religious beliefs except maybe one's who take their religious beliefs to improper extremes that impact other people with their laws or practices. we should all just be hanging out and talking about whatever. that's fine. the whole world should just hang out and figure some shit out as a group. it's when we dissappear into our living rooms and make up bullshit with our families and friends that things get dangerous, i.e. take your laws out of my womb, and my same sex love, and my country that has nothing to do with the world trade center.

i have digressed. i should stop now before everyone hates me and reads into everything i have written, goes into their living rooms and talks about how misguided i am. [metaphorically of course. i'm not under the illusion that so many people read this that they go to a specific meeting place to discuss what crazy idea i have now.]

i'd like to sum up now. i want to be a gospel superstar. i want to have the faith that everything will work out for eternity and the voice to show that. yet i'm living a different life for the obvious reasons. I'm not black, I'm not religious, and I can't sing. but if i could... the solo show wouldn't be called "Bigly Huge," it'd be "Bearded Lamb, Running for Jesus."

you know what i mean?,
b

What is the Point of Life?

Human brains have determined that there is a purpose for this whole thing. Some people put their purpose with a god, some with a family, some with causing destruction, some for money, which can lead to destruction.

I was driving across Illinois, as I have been doing a lot recently, and thinking about what it is for me. What it is for me doesn't have to be what it is for everyone else. Everyone should have the free will and the ability to determine their own purpose. Whatever way they want to find the truth or reach nirvana or die happy is their call.

So, I drove across Illinois and did a show at a beautiful little Catholic University in Iowa. On the drive home, I was thinking again about what the purpose for all of this is. I think I have it.

The purpose of this life is sharing experiences.

And the memories associated with them. Nothing is better than the memory of something amazing, beautiful, or life changing. For what is something un remembered but something that never happened. Thinking back on the best parts of my life, I always remember who was there with me to share in the joy of the moment. Seldom can I recall great moments from the past where I have been by myself and anyone who knows me knows that I can't stand to be alone. I crave interaction and moreso, I crave the ability to build great shared experiences with them. There are things we will always remember until the moment it all goes black. My purpose is to create as many of those things as possible before that happens.

And imagine how different the world would be if this was the most important thing to everyone. Obviously, I understand that auxilliary desires are necessary. I desire to create good improv, make people feel good, and make a living at what i love doing. I understand that other's goals are different than mine. But one person's desire to be the wealthiest person in the world or even just in their town leaves no room for other's to work their goals and create positive memories.

I don't know. It's idealistic and merely in rough draft form but I'm pretty sure this is my purpose. I'll be dead who knows when, but until then I want to feel good and make others feel good. In the end we have nothing but our thoughts. Even after we've got the boat and the Jag and the three happy chilluns or whatever goal we've set for ourselves, all that we're really left with is our own thoughts and our own memories.

Let's make them.
b

day tripper

day trip to cedar rapids tomorrow to perform at mount mercy college for family day. i knew i would eventually play a christian university's family day program, but i didn't think it would be with bill stern at my side. gos bless the boy, but hot dog he likes the cursing. it could get interesting. luckily, jon benner will be there to cool him out if things get hairy.

up early, 7am. drive to iowa, do improv at 3pm. drive home. sleep.

life is good.
now if we could just elect someone without a criminal record, everything would be grand.

OBAMA OH EIGHT. start right now.

b

1 Year

Well, today is my one year anniversary for moving to Chicago.

One year ago today...

I drove into Chicago with all my stuff and my mom.

I was a rogue improviser, with no crew and no worries.

I was a little bit fatter.

I was going to audition for everything and have to turn people down.

I was unaware that none of my auditions would turn into anything.

I was ready to take on the improv mecca.

I had never run naked through the snow.

I didn't know I would miss Texas as much as I have.

Happy Birthday to me. Things are going well. Despite the most depressing election of all time happening earlier this week, things are looking up with cupholder bookings. the boys are finally getting their sea legs in the booking office and it's really starting to happen. I think we're going have a really busy spring and that is beautimus.

Here's to success and happiness and central heating.
Drink up. It's Friday at 8pm somewhere.

b

bad day

well, bad day today.

rude awakening this morning by comcast guy coming to fix our internet service at around 9.

went to dentist at around noon for my fully covered cleaning. dentist told me i needed a filling and some small repairs on other fillings. i asked if it was fully covered. she looked through her notes on my coverage and said yes. i figure, hey, i'm not paying for it right. well, it turns out i was only 80% covered which i didn't find out until i was at the front desk in a crankey mood all shot up with novacaine and not able to speak clearly to the polish born receptionist with braces. "she said i was fuwwy cowewed. i ast her and she said i was fuwwy cowewed. i can't pay any mon." which was all true. the cleaning was covered 100% except a $50 deductible so i got out of there paying $95 when i had gone in with the intention of just spending ZERO. worse than that, i had been lied to right to my swollen face.

walked home through the cold rain (a sign of crappy weather to come.) paid some bills. realized i can't pay some.
went to the bank with bill and paid the employees (more money going out)

the only bright spot of my day as usual, improv rehearsal. it was good and by the time it was over i was able to speak clearly and fully realize the lingering pain from today's visit to the dentist.

then i came home and watched the next four + years of my life get sucked into a pit of despair. i've never been so interested and invested in the outcome of an election and i wouldn't be nearly as juiced if it weren't for the actions of the current and soon-to-be-re-elected president. but it didn't go as i would have liked. so, instead for the next four years i have to hear about more death and destruction in the middle east, i have to hear that stem cell research is no longer an option, that two people who love each other will not have the right to legal benefits associated with marriage simply because they are the same gender, that my social security money has been turned over to greedy corporate hogs with no one but their own pockets in mind, that a fair and balanced supreme court has become skewed sharply to the right, that war is the answer, that having friends is not as important as having high profile prisoners and the blood of civilians on our hands, that conservatives control all three legislative branches of the gov't, and that the divide between rich and poor is an immeasurable chasm ever widening due to unemployment and rewards for being in the top 2%. it brings me to the point of weeping. in fact, i am weeping. there is very little hope for positive things to come out of our gov't for quite some time and i don't know what that means for real people like you and me.
my only solace is that the best art and music, with the exception of the eighties, is always created during times of political strife. people just seem more inspired by plight. well, i think the next four or so years are going to be rife with plight and strife.

i have nothing funny to say and perhaps that is the saddest thing for me personally tonight.

b