This'll be Quick -- another T shirt idea

As I'm starting to consider this blog a bit of a memory retention for me I wanted to get something else in the books.


Years ago I was working with a woman who was pregnant.  No, not me.  Happily married, one or two other kids.  Suddenly one of those idea things popped into my head and I got her an xl T shirt which I had printed with the following.


Sex Isn't All It's Knocked Up To Be


Bet these would have sold out of the maternity section. 

Straight out of . . . .

So I'm at my stepson's football game the other night (they won 51 to 14).  He plays for the Calabasas Coyotes and I saw a number of people wearing Straight Out Of Calabasas t shirts in support of the team.  Suddenly something hit me.  What a homophobic movie that was.  I mean what about being gay out of Compton.  Not even considered.


This is where political correctness now has my mind going.


Then I thought some more (always a danger) and decided to do my usual and throw political correctness to the wind.  I wished I was back a year and was ready to pull off a major marketing coup.  This is so amazing in my eyes, I am sure someone did this and my subconscious just brought it back up.


Why not t shirts reading ---


STRAIGHT
OUT OF
THE CLOSET


Okay now, move along, move along.

There is a difference.

As I typed the title (above), all I could think of was a blindfolded chef running through the streets of Paris.  Scene from the little known (and not as funny as I had hoped -- Tunnelvision -- which I suddenly want to see again).

For years I thought the terms "being a dick" and being an asshole" were fairly interchangeable.  Two years ago I identified the difference.  In order to not get myself into trouble, I will us a (or is it an) hypothetical to present said difference.

I dated this girl a number of years ago.   We were steadily dating and fairly exclusive for over 2 1/2 years and just when I thought it was getting serious, she broke it off.  She was bored of the relationship; she need her space.  Bottom line, someone else came along that she wanted to be with more than me.  Hey, it happens right?  Life goes on.  I did pine for awhile.  Hoped that she would end the other relationship and come back to me.  My friends consoled me.  Told me that she wasn't worth it.  Move on.  The usual.  I was happy I didn't get a lot of the "yeah, I never liked her but didn't want to say anything."  Heck they liked her, it just had run its course.

So I moved on.  As did she.  Circumstances were such that we did see each other, on occasion.  Always polite and personable and no ill feelings.  She got engaged, broke it off, dated someone new.  I did what I do  best, just kind of met who I met.  Spent time with some, none with others.  Had my alone times and my busy times.

Jump forward two years.  Her car breaks down and she calls me, just to vent.  wasn't the first time; wouldn't be the last.  Ends up her car needs to be in the shop over a long weekend because there were parts needing replacement.  She needed to get to an event about 100 miles away, and had no transportation.  This was well before the age of Uber.  She was in a bind and told me (yep, didn't really ask, but told me) that I needed to drive her to the event.  wait for the 3 hours it would go on, and then drive her back.

My first thought was, "Go screw yourself, get your last boyfriend to do it!"  I didn't say that because then I would be being a dick.  Instead I drove her, waited, drove her home (even bought her dinner on the way back).  THAT was being an asshole.

Think about it

Yep, still pissed

I'm driving the kids to school the other day and some music from The Empire Strikes Back comes on. 


Comes on?  Let me explain (cause God forbid I should make a comment without having to justify it).  I have a GPS in my car (not attached, separate Garmin unit) and it plays MP3's.  I put about 2700 tracks onto a micro sd (8gb) of various piece of my collection and play them , in alphabetical order (which ultimately is as random as shuffle without the darn thing resetting every time I turn it on), over usually about 2 to 3 months.  When it gets through everything, a new sd is inserted with some of the same music and some different stuff.  I might do themes (like as may Beatles recordings as I could find by both the Beatles and those covering the Beatles so we can do a compare and contrast, a bunch of music from Glee, radio serials, musicals -- comparing stage and movie, etc.).  Sometimes just a bunch of different stuff.   This one particular disc features a lot of stuff from the Star Wars movies, Star Trek, Indiana Jones, and more of a similar ilk.


So, I'm driving the kids to school the other day and some music from The Empire Strikes Back comes on.  It happens to be the scene in the Wampa cave, so as it's playing I'm doing the whole Wampa walking, Luke hanging upside down, reaching for the lightsaber, lightsaber barely moving, Wampa walking, lightsaber leaps into hand, Luke upright swinging saber and running out.  Took me all the way through "The Jedi Master who taught me." 
Okay, so most of this was at a red light and pretty much just me waving my hand around and making lightsaber noises and weak Luke utterances and a bad Obi Wan Kenobi imitation.  But my kids enjoyed it (when they weren't looking at each other and wondering how they got stuck with this guy for a father).




And then my mood went from levity to just downright pissed off.  I couldn't hold it in.  "So," I say to my kids and that audience that I believe is there because I truly think my life is just a series of TV episodes, "here we have the son of Darth Vader, Darth Vader, he who was so strong with the force that he was made of the midichlorians.  He who had a higher count than Yoda.  Here's his son, who has had a little bit of training from Obi Wan, a Jedi master, barely being able to move a lightsaber from the snow, a mere inches away.   Yet some random chick (I say stuff like that when I'm ranting) with no Force training almost bests the grandson of the very same fallen Jedi with all the midichlorians.  IT JUST MAKES NO SENSE!!!" 


"I MEAN . . . !!!"  They calmed me down.  Told me I have to stop thinking about it.  Love my kids.


But, I am still pissed.

Th Fight

The Fight

 

 

They decided to see Raiders of the Lost Ark, again.  Sure they had seen it together 4 times and had a combined total viewings of 11, but it was a Friday and it was playing and what the heck. 

 

The ride to the theatre was a bit trying for Rich.  For some reason Gregg was on this rampage about finding him a date.  This always got under his skin.  Sure Gregg was out every other night with another of his young “groupies” but Rich wanted more from a relationship than “the old slap and tickle” Gregg referenced his meaningful relationships as.  Little did Rich know, this was going to be a night to remember.

 

They arrived at the Plaza theatre about 30 minutes before the show.  Gregg had this uncanny need to be early wherever they went.  As they approached the ticket counter, Gregg stepped ahead.  “I got this,” he commented.  He gave the cashier a bit of a look.  She seemed to be about 17, cute, blonde, and reading a page worn copy of Watership Down.  “Two for Raiders, eight fifteen show”, he pushed a ten dollar bill through the slot and awaited the tickets and change.  She barely glanced up at the two of them, took his money and delivered back two tickets, a crumpled dollar bill and two quarters. 

“Enjoy the show,” her voice was barely audible between the glass and her face being down, looking back at the book.

 

“Hey,” Gregg started.  Rich felt a knot form in his stomach.  “What time do you get off?” She looked up with a start, glanced at him, as a smile slowly formed on her lips.

 

“Well, elevenish.”  These a bit louder than her earlier comment.  “Need to clean up after this show and close up.”  She let the book close and began to twirl her hair with two fingers.  “Why do you ask?”  She leaned in slightly towards the glass separating the two of them.

 

“Come on, let’s go!  I wanna make sure we get good seats,” Rich grabbed at Gregg’s arm which was unmovable.  “Every time,” this to himself, “why does he have to do this every time?”

 

“Well, I was just thinking,” his voice got a bit quieter, almost sounding shy, “uhm, well, if you aren’t doing anything after the movie you might want to . . .” he paused for affect.  Rich started to turn away as he rolled his eyes.  “Go to Denny’s with my friend here.”

What the hell!!  The expression on Rich’s face clearly expressed the words he was thinking. “Uh, Gregg, what did you . . . “he couldn’t complete the phrase as he turned away.  Angry, embarrassed, a little of both?

She looked over Gregg’s shoulder to see Rich clearly for the first time.  The smile faded slightly.   “Well, I don’t know I have a lot of work to get done this weekend and . . . “Rich pulled Gregg away by the arm.

“Sorry, he’s a bit out of place, don’t mean to bother you,” Rich said over his shoulder as he dragged Gregg away.  “What the heck are you doing?  I don’t need you to be fixing me up.  Especially with kids.”

“Lighten up.  Just a little harmless fun.”  Gregg pulled away from Rich’s grasp.  “It’s just, well, I never see you dating anyone and thought maybe . . . “

 

“Here’s an idea,” Rich was genuinely getting upset, “Do what you’re best at and stop thinking.”  The comment struck Gregg as more funny than anything else and he looked up at Rich with a smile.  Rich couldn’t hold his anger, shook his head, and smiled, making sure Gregg didn’t notice.

 

As they approached the candy counter Gregg turned to Rich, “Hey, I gotta go to the little boy’s room.  Can you get me a large Popcorn, no butter, Jujy Fruits and a Coke?” He reached in his pocket but Rich stopped him.

“Sure, and hey, you got the tickets, I got this.”

“Thanks,” and he headed across the lobby to the Men’s Room.

Five minutes passed, and Gregg caught up to Rich as he was attempting to gather all their food while retrieving his change from the girl behind the counter.  She was brunette, probably about 21, and carried an air of authority about her.  “Must be the manager or something,” Gregg thought as he reached for the large bag of popcorn.

“Perfect timing,” this from Rich as he slid the large soda over to Gregg.  He pocketed his change and began to pick up his medium popcorn and small soda.

“Hi there,” Gregg smiled at the young lady.  “Gregg Stickeler, Damn glad to meet you.”  He feigned a salute with the hand holding the popcorn.  As a small amount fell to the floor, Gregg thanked the writers of Animal House for the umpteenth time.  The girl smiled cordially and hoped someone else was in need of some candy or drink as she turned away.  “I see you’ve met my good friend Rich,” he stressed the name just a bit too hard.

“Please shut up,” Rich looked to the ornate ceiling of the lobby.

“We’re heading over to the VF tavern after the flick and it would sure be nice if you could join him, I mean us,” the correction of words was purposely obvious.  “I know you probably get out about eleven or eleven thirty.  I’m sure he won’t mind hanging around.  I have a friend meeting me there so I’m sure she won’t mind picking me up here first.”  He was really pushing the issue.

“Thanks, I’m flattered,” she looked towards Rich, feeling his pain, “but I just don’t think so.  You seem like a nice guy, Rich is it?  But I don’t think my boyfriend would understand.”  She looked at the usher approaching the counter from Theatre 1.

“Let’s just go see the movie,” Rich smiled absently at the counter girl as he nudged Gregg to Theatre 2.  “Will you please stop it!”

They found seats in the middle of the theatre which was oddly only about a quarter full for a Friday night.  Granted the movie had been out a few weeks already, but still, it was Raiders.

 

They watched the movie.  After the credits, Rich did his best to rush Gregg out of the theatre to avoid the counter girl, the usher, and the cashier.  They drove to Denny’s and ordered their traditional Saltines and Coke.  They sat for 30 minutes or so discussing the movie and the new things they had spotted.  “No,” Gregg insisted, “that was not See Threepio on the pillar.”  He then went on with his usual diatribe about how Lucas’ concept was really good but Spielberg didn’t know how to direct a chase scene.

Gregg grabbed the check, eyed it, and turned to Rich.  “Well with tip it’s like three dollars each.”  He reached into his wallet and pulled out a credit card.  Rich handed him three dollars, which he pocketed.  He put the bill and the card at the edge of the table.

“Let me get that,” a woman’s voice, “Bob just went on break.”  Gregg looked up.  For the second time that night, Rich felt a knot in his stomach.  She was probably at least thirty.  Attractive, Gregg thought, in an older woman sort of way.

“Hi there,” after all these years Rich was still surprised at how Gregg was just able to turn that smile on without a seemingly second thought.  “You new here?”

“Nah,” was that a slight Jersey accent? “I usually don’t work the weekends but my husband’s out of town and we really need the money so . . . “  Gregg was able to maintain the smile even with her incessant gum chewing Rich knew he couldn’t stand.

 

“Husband, huh?  That’s a shame.  I’ve been trying to find a date for my friend here for a concert next weekend, and . . . hey, wait,” inspiration flashed in his eyes, “you got any friends?  He’s a great guy.”

 

Rich stood up, more embarrassed than angry this time.  “Look, I’ll wait for you in the car.”  He left, not saying a word to the waitress as he slid past her and out into the night.

 

“This is getting ridiculous,” Rich, in a rare moment of annoyance, almost yelled.  “Could you just stop it!”  All Gregg could do was just smile, almost as if he was telling himself a joke.

They drove off in a rare silence.  The radio was on but not a word was spoken.  Rich slowed the car and stopped at a red light.  Gregg peered out the passenger window as red VW beetle pulled up beside them.  The convertible top was down and he could clearly see a very attractive red head in the driver’s seat.

“Hi!” Gregg yelled to her in order to be heard over the dueling radios. “What’s your name?”

From behind her shoulder, a man’s face appeared, a very angry looking man.  “Who the hell wants to know?”

Gregg didn’t skip a beat.  “My friend here was wondering. .. “ he never completed his sentence as the light changed and Rich sped away down the street.

 

At least that’s what they were planning to tell everybody.

Things I've Always Wanted to See In a Movie

For years I had a couple of images I figured if I ever make a movie, I need to incorporate.  Nothing where attention is drawn to it.  Just a quick sight of it in the background or off to the side.  One of those caught it on the second viewing kinda things.

A Gasoline tanker pulled off on the side of a rode.  Not a freeway, more of one of those rarely travelled stretches of road like in the southwest.  Or central New Jersey  The camera is in the car with whatever character interaction is gong on.  A few seconds later you see a lone truck driver, walking, looking hot an d bewildered, carrying a gas can.

The second one has been deemed offensive by many.

I handicapped parking spot that seems empty but on a closer review you notice there is a wheel chair chained to a pole next to it.

Later as our characters enter a grocery store, we see a man, crawling on the ground, just using his arms to propel himself forward.

Yep, that's the kind of background action I'm looking for.

Again, this isn't as much for general entertainment but to make sure I don't forget.

Thanks for listening.