Chico and the Man and the Other Man

I do a bit of DVD-watching, and here's something I've noticed: When I read the backs of DVD boxes, I'm almost never able to tell what the movie is like. It almost seems that the words on the boxes are written to deliberately obscure the true nature of the movie contained wherein. For example, a subtle "black comedy" is described as, "A hilarious, madcap romp, that'll have you doubled over with laughter from start to (insert pun based on the movie's title) finish!"

I think what's happening is that the people who are trying to sell the movie want everyone to think that the movie is more "mainstream" than it actually is. The unavoidable result of this is lots of "mainstream" viewers, disappointed by the "weird" movie they were tricked into watching.

Another unfortunate by-product of this situation is the people who would've actually liked the movie, but never had a chance to see it because they don't appreciate, "Hilarious, madcap romps."

It's Four-Thirty; Time for Milking.

Remember last week when I finally got the sweet new high-speed internet hookup at home? It lasted about two days. My phone service is "down," (or whatever they call it for phone service) until tomorrow. -Maybe. It might be fixed tomorrow. Maybe not. I'm not holding my breath (especially not literally).

This explains my recent lack of blogging activities. -What's your excuse?

Rock, Paper, Scissors

As I was exiting the independent-ish supermarket last night, a man with a clipboard accosted me rather timidly. "Would you like to sign a petition advocating harsher sentences for child molesters?"

"Gimme that pen," I demanded, with Heston-esque self-righteousness.

Then I froze. "Wait a minute...'Harsher sentences?'" He looked at me, blankly. I slowly shook my head and continued, "I'll bet you're one of those 'Anti-murder' whack-jobs, too, aren't you?"

Camptown Ladies' Apparel

Last night, I lived an archetypal dream. I went to class, but school actually doesn't start until today.

(Wait, isn't that the dream? It's definitely a dream, but a more universally common (and disturbing) one is the one where we go to school thinking it's the first day, but school's already been in session for days or weeks, causing us to feel alienated, ill-prepared, helpless, and bad.)

I got a really good parking space, and I thought, "Wow, they must've cancelled a lot of evening classes. There's almost nobody here!" I didn't see many people walking around on campus, either, which led me to think that my watch was a bit slow, and classes had already started, so I hurried.

The big tip-off was when I noticed that all the classrooms in my building were dark and locked.

Naturally, there was a moment there when I half-expected all the doors to suddenly fling open in unison, releasing legions of taunting, pointing, knee-and-back-slapping pranksters, whose laughter echoed throughout the hallowed halls.

I would've really had to hand it to them.

Secret Agent Man Overboard

I have a high-speed internet connection at home, which I'm using right this very second! That's right; I finally ditched my dial-up rig! I know what you're thinking.

I called the special cancellation number at my dial-up company to cancel, and the guy didn't take it well at all.

"It's not you...it's me," I reassured him. "We can totally still be friends," but we all know that never works.

I'm an Uncle, for Real

My little baby sister delivered a totally healthy infant, really late last night. He's fine, she's fine, and everybody's fine. I was a complete nervous wreck for most of the week, though. It was a really heavy head- trip thing for many reasons, some of which I can't even begin to understand.

There hasn't been a child in our family for many years. So something like this is probably no big whoop to most of you jaded aunts and uncles or young-ish parents, but it's a pretty big deal for us. We all spent a lot of really worried time in the hospital. But everything's great now.

(This is why I haven't returned emails or phone calls the last few days, in case you were wondering.)

So, that's pretty neat, isn't it?

"7th Heaven," R.I.P. 1995(-ish) to 2006

No doubt you've already heard. When I first got wind of it, I figured it had to be some kind of joke; a really not-funny joke.

It's true, though. "7th Heaven," TV's, "Longest-running family drama,"(according to the official WB "7th Heaven" page) is finally closing its doors for good, after approximately ten years on the air. The network cites, "High costs," as the main reason, and maybe that's really the reason.

I never missed an episode. Actually, that's not accurate; I almost never watched the show, but the four or five times I did see portions of "7th Heaven" will always be remembered as some of the happiest moments of my life. I know; it begs the question, "Why didn't you just watch the show more often, if it made you that happy?" I don't know.

Ah! How I used to chortle to the antics of the dad/priest guy who I thought was Ken Kercheval, but isn't. He was tough but fair. (I just learned, via the WB site, that he's played by Stephen Collins, long thought of as the, "Poor man's Ken Kercheval.") And I recall fondly how that one cop guy used to always "butt heads" with that younger jock guy! That sure was funny, all right. Funny, but touching.

The blonde twins who'd finish each others' sentences in indentical, expressionless monotones was a macabre stroke of genius; a real TV breakthrough of a caliber that's usually reserved for much "better" mediums than TV. -Like "movies."

"7th Heaven" was no "Small Wonder," (What is?) but I will always reserve a special place for it in my (figurative) heart. It's a "small wonder" that it was cancelled, though! -Get it?

Hooray for Postmodernism

Three Things I Bought This Weekend:

1. Katje's "Salzige Heringe" Licorice - I kept hearing about these, and when I came across them, I couldn't resist. "Salzige Heringe" means (I assume) "Salt Herring" in German. They're black licorice fish, coated in salt. They're even more weird than you think, and strangely addictive. I think they're like G-Rated absinthe.
   
2. A plant for my desk at my new day job. Her name is "Plantie."
   
3. A Calendar for my desk at my new day job. Did you know you can get calendars for 50% off at this time of year? Think about it: The year is only 1/24 over, yet the monetary value of calendars has plummeted. At this rate, they'll be completely worthless in a few days. For me, it serves as a bittersweet reminder of the transient, fleeting nature of time. -What a bargain, though!
   

Rooting for the Gazelles

I had a fun dream the other night, which I'll tell you about now. Don't worry; there's no "screwing."

I dreamed I was reading a review of the new ELO Greatest Hits CD (which, I'm positive, was prompted by my real-life reading of a real-life review on copacetic zine, and, incidentally, if you go there, and check out Mike's blog (which I do frequently) you'll see an unnecessarily flattering reference to us, which surprised the hell out of us, and made us blush). In the review, the author referred to a much-acclaimed ELO record called Stop Shooting the Robot.
As far as I know, ELO never released a record called Stop Shooting the Robot. I didn't do any research, but I'm pretty sure.

For some reason, I seemed to wake up right after I dream-read the part of the dream-review that contained that album title, and, of course, I was really amused by it, and I didn't want to forget it, so I felt for and found a pencil and a piece of paper on the nightstand, and in the dark, I wrote "Stop Shooting the Robot." I couldn't see anything in the dark, though, and when I woke up the next morning, I looked at the piece of paper and it was blank! I don't know what happened. Maybe I wasn't pressing hard enough, in my stupor, or maybe I was using the wrong end of the pencil. Luckily, I was able to remember the fake album title.

I'm considering buying the ELO record, incidentally, because Jesus so clearly wants me to have it.

New York Minutes

This is just some friendly advice, presented as sort of a public service.

If you need to break some news to someone, and you don't want to make the person angry, but it's possible that the news will make the person angry, DO NOT begin the news-breaking conversation with the phrase, “Don't get angry,” because they will so totally get angry.

Take it from me.

CANCELLED- A Very The Gold State Friday the 13th

The show's been cancelled.

I know you're all thinking it's due to our severe, sometimes crippling depression, or our "temperamental artist" temperament, or our self-sabotaging self sabotaging (adjective AND noun, B-word!), but it's not.

Well, actually it is, but not really any more than anything else. Because, let's face it; everything is.

The story's actually a good one, but I'm too tired to tell it now. It's got everything: Drama, suspense, intrigue, humor (there's not really all that much intrigue, to be honest).

Pleasant dreams, everyone (and we have another show booked at Harold's on Friday, March 10th, so don't worry - by then we'll have a chance to polish up, in general, and learn some new songs that you probably might like).

Stations of the Cross

People keep asking me about my new day job. "How do you like it?" "What do you do?" These are perfectly valid questions, to which my answer is the same: "Yes."

Some well-meaning, caring folks have even had the audacity to ask precise questions about my salary. Most of you know that I regard such discussions as very distasteful. I would never ask anyone about his or her income, and I'd never divulge mine to anyone (especially not in mixed company). However, in the interest of transparency and full disclosure and stuff, I'll give you a little hint.

Does the term, "Five figures,"” mean anything to you?

That's right. I'm all The Jeffersons.

A Very The Gold State Friday the 13th

With all the excitement over our glimmering new blog home, it's easy for us to forget that The Gold State is primarily a band thing, so here's a reminder about our Friday the 13th show, A Very The Gold State Friday the 13th:

The Gold State is playing a show this Friday at Harold's in San Pedro. The night happens to be Friday the 13th, and so far, I'm convinced that the entire event has been cursed by Jesus.

We've unsuccessfully invited FOUR bands so far; one has mysteriously disappeared from the face of the earth, the other three have not-so-mysteriously been almost-able to do it, but had to cancel for not-so-mysterious reasons. I'm not even counting the other bands I know that I wanted to invite, but didn't because I knew they were playing other shows that night.

So, seriously, we need a band to play with us. If you're in a band, or if you know someone who is, and you think they might be able to do it, let me know, or let them know, or something. It'll be fun.

I'm serious. My email address is paul at thegoldstate.com (be sure to replace the "at" with an "@."” This is a spam-preventive thing that all the highfalutin' bloggers do.)

Please join us this Friday at Harold's, as an audience member and/or as a band. A Very The Gold State Friday the 13th, promises the be the Friday the 13th-iest Friday the 13th yet!

The Last Great American Stitch in Time

Here are a few things that don't really require or deserve their own posts:

1. I now own an iPod. An iPod nano, and my soul is in such turmoil.
   
   I feel really guilty because I really love it. I don't want to love it, but I do. I love how it feels in my hand, all glassy and chrome-y and cold. I love how it purrs when my thumb makes little circles on its abdomen. I love how people look at me with that, “Who the hell are you that you can afford to toss around hundreds of dollars on such trivial luxuries,” when I'm in doctors' office waiting rooms.
   
   (Don't worry; I've only been in one doctor's office waiting room since I got the iPod; it wasn't for me, and it wasn't serious.)
   
   It's black, and it's (probably not coincidentally) reminiscent of the 2001-A Space Odyssey monolith.
   
   
2. My boss at my new day job asked me if I'd made any New Year's Resolutions, and I was very quick to say, “No,” about which he seemed to have a great deal of trouble concealing his disappointment. So I'll probably get fired, and I don't think you can collect unemployment if you get fired for not making anyNew Year's Resolutions and being proud of it.
   
   
3. I really want to try Absynthe. Yes, the hallucinogenic wood alcohol that was all the rage among turn-of-the-century arty types. Yes, it's illegal in this country.
   
   I guess that would be a Resolution of sorts, but I probably won't burst into the boss's office tomorrow and announce that.
   

There's No Place Like Home and Third Time's the Charm

When I was a child, I was really interested in all that urban legend, “In Search Of...” stuff. I ate it up. UFOs, the Loch Ness Monster, Jesus, all that stuff.

I found it really confusing, though, when people would refer to a group of alleged animals by a proper, capital-first-lettered name. Examples: The Abominable Snowman. Sasquatch. There I was, thinking that there was only one Bigfoot, like Paul Bunyan or something, but it turns out that there were whole herds of them.And then there's the whole “Abominable Snowman” mindfuck. Not only was he essentially a ripoff of Bigfoot, but he wasn't even white! How can you be a brown, hairy “snowman?”

I'm still not over that one.

(Incidentally, here's a link to that “Stabilized" Bigfoot footage that's been making the internet rounds.)

I Want the Titles for Each Entry to Have Nothing at All to Do With the Posts, or at Least, I Intend for Them to Appear That Way Upon First Glance.

I was asked (by one person) why I decided to start doing the blog in this manner, rather than continuing to do it the way I've been doing it. (Actually, now that I think about it, a total of three people asked me about this. That's not counting me, asking myself why I did it. So, that's really four.)

I'll tell you. Listen, all of you, now, while I tell you, in the following paragraph, why I decided to move the blog here.

The Blogger site allows me to blog from any computer, anywhere, day or night, hot or cold. Before, I had to use the special software that was installed on my computer at home. That sucked.

Another reason is that the comments thing here just self-replicates. It's so easy. I just type the blog entry, save it, and quick-as-you-please, the comment link appears. Before, I had to copy and paste HTML code into each blog entry. Sometimes I had to go outside in wet socks to get it.

Then, also, not last or least, there are permalinks built right into each blog entry here. Not that you'd ever want to link to anything on this blog, but if you did, like, for example, if you thought that something here was interesting or brilliant, or if you thought a picture of my face was appealing on some level, you could just click on the little “time” thing at the bottom of this post, and then copy the link. Go ahead, try it. Isn't that cool? The post appears in its very own little window, and I didn't even have to wipe up any spills.

I realize that this gives some readers the opportunity to lament that The Gold State Remarks page has “Jumped the Shark.” I fully realize that. It's not true, though.

It's just not. The new blog is more efficient, more streamlined, and more good. I can make spur-of-the-moment changes, catch-as-catch-can, spring, summer, winter, or fall.

To prove my point, I'll temporarily change some element of this page to a really garish color, the choice of which will be made by the first commenter to address this. All you have to do is comment, “Change the title color to Pepto-Bismol pink,” and lickety-split, it will be done.

Go. Go embrace change.

You Can Ring My (Korean) Bell

Last night, at the last minute, some friends and I decided to visit the Korean Bell here in San Pedro. Every year, “they” ring the bell at midnight, to “ring” in the New Year. It's one of those “tradition” things.

The Korean Bell is a giant bell (like, at least 15 feet tall, or something) that was given to us as a token of friendship (or something) by our “sister city,” Seoul (I think). I'm not sure what we gave them in return, but I'm sure it was pretty nice.

As many of you who care know, I was born here in San Pedro, but for some reason, I've never heard the bell ring. It rings only a couple of times a year; one is on New Year's Eve, and I don't know when else (if ever). I've heard that the bell is so loud, that it can be heard for miles, and that its shock waves can actually warp the fabric of time, so you can bet that I was looking forward to hearing it.

So there I was, huddled around the bell with hundreds of revelers and dozens of official-looking Korean men in strange uniforms, as we all chanted the countdown in unison, “10...9...8...” and I braced myself.

“...3...2...1...HAPPY NEW YEAR!” I took a deep breath. Then, a moment later, I heard a tiny, barely audible, “Ping.”

A few seconds later, there was another soft, delicate “Ping.”

“Ah! They're just warming up,” I figured, but no. It rang about ten more times, and each was as soft as the last. I guess they didn't want to break it, or wake the baby.

Still, I had fun, and three-quarters of The Gold State was there. Here's me with Brian, for those who care:
Let this serve as my New Year's gift to all mankind.

Out With the Old Baby & Bathwater

Welcome to the new home of “The Gold State - Remarks” blog. If you're a fan of this type of thing, you're in for a treat-and-a-half.

Can't read English? Don't worry! The new blog is self-equipped to automatically detect your native tongue, and translate the entries for you. “Wait a minute,” you say. “What if I decide to change my native tongue tomorrow?” You'll be pleased to know that the native tongue-detecting application (or NTDA) runs every day, so you'll never miss a single word.

“But wait,” you say.