Why I Hate Halloween, 2011 Edition

 Angry Matt, Health, Holidays, Ramblings, Whine  3 Responses »
Oct 132011
 

When it comes to people, it’s often hard to get below the surface.  People don’t often let you get to know their true selves.  And sometimes, that’s tragic.  Because sometimes, a person’s true self is glorious and wonderful, and far more deep, profound, or moving than the face they present to the world.  On the outside, they may look like they stumbled out of bed with a hangover and directly onto the pages of PeopleOfWalmart.com, while on the inside, they are rainbows and unicorns.

And sometimes, it’s probably better that you can’t see past the surface because on the outside, they may look like this:

While on the inside, they are like this:

fat emo kid-he doesnt agree.

Of course, I exaggerate.  Even my Inner Fat Emo Kid would never pierce his lower lip or wear pigtails.  Tres gauche.

No, my Inner Fat Emo Kid and I are pretty darn close.  And we’ve been a lot closer lately. He has been blasting his death metal and writing sad poems in his journal alone, moping in his room a lot.  This is nothing new, of course.  My Inner Fat Emo Kid has been doing this steadily since 1994, when I was 16 years old, and I discovered that the world is always a more tragic place when you’re driving through the late-night streets and empty cemetery of Albion in a 1989 Mercury Grand Marquis LS.  (And my goodness…you should see home of the horrific emo poetry I wrote back then.  Huh-larious.)

Of course, back then, Inner Fat Emo Kid wasn’t so inner, and he wasn’t so fat.  But still just as emo.  Or rather, as emo as a clean-cut, red-headed, Mormon kid wearing a purple shirt, mustard yellow shorts, and black and brown loafers with white socks can be.  (Geez, that’s a mental image I wish I could erase.  Thank goodness there are no photos of that, or I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from posting them on the blog.  Inner Fat Emo Kid loves suffering.)

As I’ve gotten older, Inner Fat Emo Kid still manages to mope around every now and again.  But these days, he’s a little less Emo, and a little more Fat.  And, I hope at least, a lot more inner.  Except of course, when summer finally goes away, and I find myself staring at the prospect of another long, dark, and wet winter. Then he’s much more emo, much more fat, and a whole lot less inner.

That’s right!  All of that pictorial diatribe above was simply for me to complain about the weather!  Well that, and Halloween. 

My hatred of the miserable “holiday” called Halloween has been well-documented here and here.  My feelings on the subject have not changed, but have, in fact, strengthened. And I think I understand why.  Halloween falls into a bit of a happiness black hole.  During the summer, the sun is out, the days are long, it’s warm(ish) and dry(ish).  People are suffused with an excess of Vitamin D.  There are flowers, sunshine, and lollipops.  Well, maybe not the lollipops.  But there are popsicles.  And in England, they’re called Ice Lollies, so that’s close enough.  But it’s Summer!  And summer is awesome.

And then in November, it’s okay to start decorating for Christmas.  (And don’t you dare even start with me.)  And there’s Thanksgiving, when even Inner Fat Emo Kid can make himself so full of yummy food that there’s no room left for the Emo.  And after that, there’s Christmas.  And Christmas is the calendar equivalent to unicorns pooping rainbows and glitter.  It’s the most awesome thing ever.  And it makes me happy, and it has great music.  And it doesn’t matter that daylight only lasts 17 minutes because there are twinkling lights and pine-scented candles and the promise of presents and going home to visit family and letting my mom do the dishes for two weeks because she is apparently the only person in the Universe who actually knows how to load the dishwasher correctly so instead I get to go downstairs and play video games while she cleans up the kitchen. 

But Halloween just falls smack-dab into the right armpit of the year.  (The left armpit is the Late February-Late March kill-me-now-if-I-don’t-see-some-sunlight-or-flowers corridor.)  Summer’s over, but the real holidays haven’t started yet.  It’s too early to decorate for Christmas, and it’s too cold and wet to enjoy being outdoors. 

But seriously, this year, I have noticed a major shift in my mood when summer came to its very abrupt end.  I’ve been working very hard to keep myself busy, and to enjoy what little sunlight is still available to me, but I’m a bit worried about how I’m going to manage to cope through the upcoming winter.  Normally, the beautiful Seattle summers are enough to keep me going, but the last two years we’ve had very poor, cold, wet summers in comparison to what I witnessed the first two years I was here.  It didn’t start until mid to late July, and was over by the first week of September. 

So, I’m going to try a few things differently this year to try to stave off the Seasonal Affective Disorder of Doom™ that I can feel sneaking toward me on little hippopotamus feet.

#1 Must. Keep. Exercising.  I started swimming several miles in July.  I lost a bunch of weight really quickly, and had a lot more energy.  I was actually getting up and going swimming before work.  I have not been able to keep that up as the days are getting shorter.  I’m a rise-with-the-sun kind of person, and it’s been very, very difficult for me to get when it’s still completely dark outside.  And going after work is pretty much not going to happen.  Once my shoes come off after a long day of work, I’m not goin’ anywhere.  Except maybe to the apartment complex hot tub to soak for a few.  (Note to self: Go soak in the hot tub).

#2 Eat Better. October is very bad month for Matt nutritionally. And I can attribute it to one thing:

Look.  I know it’s horrible for me, but I don’t care.  They start putting those damn little monopoly pieces on the 10-piece Chicken McNugget box, and I will go all SuperSize Me.  (PS.  Did you ever notice that McDonalds doesn’t use the term Supersize anymore?)  So far, I have won 300 Coca-Cola Points, a $5 Wal-Mart Gift Certificate (Megan, I’ll give this to you because I don’t have a Wal-Mart in my area, and even if I did, I wouldn’t shop there.  But you’re strong enough to withstand the evil so I’ll bring it down when I come for Christmas), 20 4×6 Photo prints from Snapfish, and a $40 Tiger Wood 2012 Master Xbox Game.  Oh, and a Medium Fry, two breakfast sandwiches, and two quarter pounders.  Once this orgy of fried foods is over in two weeks (*cough*) I’m back to healthy eating. 

#3 Modern Pharmaceuticals.  (And don’t worry…I totally had to look up how to spell pharmaceuticals.)  This year, I don’t care what anyone says.  I am not going to go through this winter on my own.  I don’t believe I need the help of any prescription friends yet, but I’m all about the herbal supplements and all that crap.  Melatonin, Vitamin D, St. John’s Wort, Monkey Placenta…I don’t care.  I will take it all.  Load me up with as many pills as needed.  Hell, if I have to start chugging 4 Loko and 5-Hour Energy, I will do it.  If Nature can’t provide me with what I need to make it through this Winter, then Amazon.com will.

#4 Light Box. I’m pretty seriously considering getting one of those full-spectrum light boxes that you shine in your face for 30 minutes a day to help wake you up.  To be honest, it sounds like a scam…especially considering how stinking expensive the dang things are, but I’ll give it a go.  Especially if someone buys me one.  I’ve got one picked out already and it’s even on my Amazon wishlist—your one-stop shopping destination for buying me Christmas presents!

#5 Create. Look, I’m miserable, fat, tired, and cranky.  So, instead of falling into the trap of doing what would come naturally (i.e., becoming a right-wing radio talk show host), I’m going to try to direct what’s left of my energy toward being creative.  Writing songs, finishing my book, recording an audiobook, taking more photos.  I’m sure that all of my creative efforts will reek of Inner Fat Emo Kid, but that’s okay.  At least he’ll be so busy being tragic that he won’t be able to completely drag me down all winter.

And if all else fails, I suppose I could always dress up as my Inner Fat Emo Kid for Halloween.

 Posted by Matt at 9:51 pm

Making Change: A Shopping Tale

 Living It Up, Money, Ramblings, Rants  No Responses »
Sep 252011
 

Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination.  ~Oscar Wilde

One of the perks of my new job is that once a year, I get a bonus which is a percentage of my annual salary (assuming we meet our revenue projections.)  This is the first time I’ve ever had a job where that was the case.  Our fiscal year ended in June, and I have been waiting with anticipation to determine whether or not we reached our revenue targets, and more importantly, when we would be getting our bonuses.

Last Tuesday, the bonuses were delivered. And lo, there was much rejoicing.

Over the last year, finances have been pretty tight for me.  My expenses increased pretty significantly when insurance rates went up (both health and auto/renters), rent went up, groceries and gas went up, and I got hit with a not-insignificant tax hit because of a foolish purchase I had made back in the middle of 2010.  My piano, while greatly loved, was not purchased the right way—by saving up until I could afford it.  So, to put it mildly, I haven’t been doing much in the way of shopping lately.  I have managed to sneak in a couple of trips to Kohl’s for clothing, but that’s about it.  Most of my paycheck these days go toward payin’ the bills.

That’s one of the reasons why I was so excited about this bonus.  I had several things that I had needed (and wanted) to purchase, but couldn’t afford to do so without putting them on credit.  Which I don’t do anymore.  So, when my bonus check came last Tuesday, I was itching with anticipation about getting back into the shopping mindset for a while.  Since then, I have learned something that is both simultaneously exciting and upsetting: I have grown to hate shopping.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  I started on Tuesday, when I purchased a new cell phone.  (Discussed in the previous post.)  My old one was falling apart.  I purchased my new phone on Tuesday during my lunch break.  And I love it. A lot. 

That kept me engaged for Tuesday.  Wednesday, I refocused my efforts on the amazingness that is Amazon.com.  I love Amazon.  I have multiple wishlists that I use to track all the things I would buy if I had the money.  I always go there first to check for pretty much anything that isn’t food.  I have a Prime membership, so I get free two-day shipping.  And I can even get same-day delivery on most of my purchases, because I live in an area where Amazon Fresh, their grocery delivery service, is available. 

Amazon’s purchases were pretty fun.  I got new ink for my large-format photo printer, and 17X22” paper, to print up some large prints of my photos to frame and hang up.  I figure for the cost of the ink, paper, and generic frames, I can get about 10 times more artwork than if I had to pay to have it printed up elsewhere.  I got a soil moisture detector ($5!) so I could make sure I don’t overwater my plants.  I bought bluetooth receivers for both my home stereo and my car, so I could listen to music through my phone without having to deal with plugging in the headphone jack over and over again.  (That’s how I screwed up my last phone).  I bought some amazing Drinking Chocolate and refills for Luke the Dog’s™ Everlasting Treat Ball.  I bought a second battery for my camera, and another pair of waterproof headphones as a backup for swimming.  Oh, and I got a 32gig MicroSD Card for my phone so I could put more music and videos on it.  That was done on Wednesday, through Amazon.  The ink for the printer was, by far, the most expensive of my purchases, so I had done pretty well.

Thursday, I actually paid all of my bills ahead one month.  You know…just to see what that felt like.

Friday, I did some more shopping on Amazon, but didn’t buy anything, because I wanted to leave stuff on my wish list for people to buy me for Christmas.

And then came the weekend:

The best purchase of this bonus season is this awesome sideboard that I purchased for my dining room.

11 - 1

It’s oak, 78” long, and has the most beautiful wood grain.  Since my existing furnishings are contemporary, this should fit right in, and now I can finally get all of my cooking stuff out of the pantry so I can use it for, you know, food.  I can also finally get my microwave off that ugly printer stand in my dining room.  Best part of this buy?  It was on clearance, so I got it for $500.  Actual big boy, solid wood furniture that doesn’t come in a flat-pack box or need to be assembled with an Allen wrench, and it only cost me $500!  (It was originally $1,100.)

So, I was pretty excited about finding this buy, but by now, I was getting awfully tired of consumerism.  It used to be that I found the hunt for the right thing to be exhilarating.  But even though I had managed to find this really cool thing for a great deal after going to five different furniture stores, I didn’t get that rush I normally get.  I was starting to get an inkling that, perhaps, my year without shopping had changed me fundamentally.

As if to drive that point home, I went to the mall.  I don’t go to the mall very often, but once upon a time (a year ago) I loved going to the mall and shopping for clothes.  If I ever needed confirmation that I was a changed man, this did it.  Just setting foot inside the mall send me off the cranky old man deep end.  Everything drove me crazy.  The music in all the stores was terrible and too loud.  None of the clothes fit my new, Reubenesque frame, every single sales person wanted my email to sign me up for a loyalty program. And, behold, my wrath was kindled mightily against a new foe.  A foe that embodies the full evil of American retail. My anger, which had been smoldering gently, burst into wildfire flames, fanned by the noxious aroma permeating the air surrounding the softcore porn shop, Abercrombie and Fitch.

I mean, really.  There’s a picture in the entrance of a naked man, the lights are low, there are dark shutters across all the windows, and there’s a reek of cheap (yet still expensive) perfume, as though the store was trying to cover up the scent of human feces, mildew, and desperation.  If I were walking by that and I didn’t know Abercrombie and Fitch sold clothing (something I’d never assume, since none of the people in the photos visible from the front of the store are ever wearing a stitch of clothing), I’d assume that it was a gay bathhouse.

I actually went inside A&F this time.  Ludicrously overpriced merchandise, which I could barely see because it was so dark, awful caterwauling coming from the sound system, and that horrible, horrible odor that the pump into the store.  I get wanting your store to smell nice, but A&F is like the 14 year-old using his dad’s aftershave for the first time to go to the big dance.  Just a quick dab behind the ears A&F.  You don’t need to bathe in it.  And more importantly, I don’t want to have to taste it if I happen to walk within a 200 foot radius of the front door of your store.  I was eating an Auntie Anne’s preztel, and I couldn’t taste it over the Eau du Rotted Flesh and Rosewater fog from your porno-shack.

(And don’t even get me started of A&F Kids.  Why are they using naked 15 year old boys to sell clothing to 8 year olds?)

I spent three hours in the mall, and I realized that shopping—especially clothes shopping—is a young person’s game.  I only have two days a week to relax and do what I want to do.  That time is valuable to me.  More valuable than going through racks of 70% clearance items in Chartreuse and Burn Orange just to find the one button-up shirt that doesn’t cost $87 and have the smell of Abercrombie and Fitch so deeply permeated that the only way you could get rid of it would be to burn the damn thing.

And, quite frankly, I just don’t care about looking good the way I used to.  I mean, if I did, I would pull my ironing board out more than once every six months.  I wouldn’t eat McDonald’s twice a week, and gorge on Jello Popcorn.  (Mmmmm.  Jello Popcorn.)  I wouldn’t cut what’s left of my hair by myself.  But I just don’t care anymore.  Also, men’s clothing is SO BORING.  It all looks the same.  It didn’t matter which store I went into.  You could have taken the clothes from Urban Outfitter, and stuck them in American Eagle, or the clothes from The Buckle and put them in Aeropostale.

And the net result of this whole shopping jag?  I got a button-up shirt, a hooded sweater, and two t-shirts.  And a hat. I couldn’t find the jeans in the size I wanted.  I couldn’t find decent underwear. And apparently, the color scheme this year is the mid 1990s-era red, green, and blue plaid…rather like the couch that my aunt and uncle gave me for my college apartment.  Sorry, but I’m just not going down that road again.

So, lessons learned:

  • Shopping isn’t very much fun anymore. So you shouldn’t feel too bad about not doing it
  • If you have to shop, use Amazon.
  • Abercrombie & Fitch is the Hellmouth, and their perfumed air is the signal of the forthcoming apocalypse.
  • I am officially too old and too fat to look good in any clothes that could possibly be considered hip, cool, or stylish.
  • I am officially too cheap to spend the kind of money that cool, hip, or stylish people would to wear the kinds of clothes they wear
  • It’s way more fun to shop for furniture than for clothing
  • Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, looks good in a changing room mirror
  • I really like the color purple.

Now, if I can just keep these lessons learned in the front of my mind, I won’t feel so tempted to go out shopping again at Christmas time.

 Posted by Matt at 10:21 pm

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes: or Why I Left Facebook

 Angry Matt, Rants, The Technology Whore, Whine  1 Response »
Sep 232011
 

So, unless you’ve been living under a rock, or are afraid of technology like my Mom (Hi, Mom!), you probably noticed that Facebook has been monkeying around with its design quite a bit these days.  As is usually the case, Facebook users around the world flew off the handle, and went berserk. 

This image used without permission from The Oatmeal. Which is why I’m linking to them repeatedly.  Go here.  And please don’t sue me.

I work in the web software and services field, and we often have to do redesigns of our software to improve functionality and appearance.  And much like with Facebook, every time we make a change, somebody is upset by it.  They liked it the way it was.  And usually, I’m of the opinion that look, technology is change.  If websites don’t change and update, they will eventually become irrelevant.  And for a market leader like Facebook, it’s even more important that they continue to change and innovate, or other websites will come in and take over.

So usually, I don’t begrudge Facebook wanting to change and update their service.  I really don’t.  Innovate, build, evolve.  It’s your world, and you can do whatever you’d like.  And as a long-time technologist, I’m extremely flexible.  I can adjust to new layouts, functionality, options, etc., without much effort on my part. (For an interesting retrospective on Facebook designs from 2005 to 2009, check out this blog post.)

The redesign rolled out at the beginning of this week, as well as the announcement of what the new Facebook layout will look like was something else, however.  In one fell swoop, Facebook went from being a fairly passive, static website experience to becoming the web equivalent of a CNBC Screen during market close.

There’s so much going on at once, so many places to look, so much movement.  In addition to fighting itself for attention, Facebook has decided to take away my ability to determine what it is I would like to see in my “feed.”  It’s moving certain stories into a special area to highlight them.  It’s got a constantly updating ticker of every single thing that my “friends” are doing every second of the day.  It’s got a list of friends who are popping online, offline, and into chat.  It’s got advertisements that are often irrelevant (or offensive).  It’s suggesting that I subscribe to people I’ve never heard of.  And navigating the labyrinth of privacy settings, display options, and other configuration variables has become next to impossible without a GPS, a translator, and a couple of Sherpa with mules.

It has become too much for me.  Maybe I’m just getting too old.  Maybe I’m behind the times.  Or maybe I’m just really tired of being unable to focus my attention on any one thing in my life for more than 30 seconds at a time.  It used to be that I would get into a zone, put my head down, and make huge strides toward completing a project.  These days it seems like I can’t focus on a single topic for more than a few minutes before I get distracted by something else.  This new Facebook design seems to require that I sit there in front of my computer for hours and hours on end, watching every little thing that every person I have ever known does during the course of their day and reacting with them.

But I’ve realized something…I know so much about what’s going on in most of my friends’ lives now that when I get together with them or talk to them on the telephone (you know, that thing you use to send text messages…it’s actually capable of voice communication too), I don’t have anything to talk about.  They know what I’m doing, I know what they’re doing.  There’s no joy in discovering what’s new. This redesign reminded me that I really don’t care all that much about 98% of the people that I am friends with, and certainly not to the point that I need to see what photos they are commenting on, or whose comment on someone else’s post they “liked.”  I’m overloaded with information in general. Now, thanks to the new redesign, I’m also getting overloaded with information about people whose lives just aren’t that interesting to begin with.

Then there’s the privacy thing.  Look, I’m not naïve enough to think that online privacy is actually a “thing” anymore.  I know it’s not.  And even if it were, it’s not like I have much need for it, since I spill most of my deep, dark secrets in great detail and many words on this very blog.  But the casual disdain with which Facebook treats my data is shocking.  It seems like twice a week, they make some change to the way they handle my personal data (making sure that I’m opted-in by default, whether or not I want to be), and then forgetting to close some security hole that lets the friend of a friend of a friend find my home phone number even though I’ve set it as being visible to only my family.

Watching all of this go on for years and years now, I’m beginning to wonder why I’m still taking part.  I don’t enjoy the time I spend on Facebook. Yet I’m going back several times a day, every single day.  I don’t want to know every little thing that goes on in the lives of people I barely know.  I don’t want them to know how to get ahold of me on a moment’s notice.

So, this week, I’ve decided that I’m leaving Facebook.  I don’t like what it has become and what it is becoming.  I don’t like using it.  I don’t trust them.  Regardless of what you think, Facebook isn’t free.  You’re paying to use Facebook…just not with money.  And for me, the cost isn’t worth the benefit anymore.  I already live my digital life within the Google ecosystem.  They have just as much (if not more) personal data on me than Facebook ever will, but I get so much more out of it.  I use Google search, Gmail, Google Voice, Google Music, Google Docs, Google Shopping, Google Reader, Android, The Android Marketplace, Google+, Picasa, Picasaweb, Google Contacts, Google Calendar, Google Maps, Google Finance, Google Earth, and probably a bunch of other products I don’t even realize.  If I’m going to sell my personal identify and online privacy, I’m at least going to do it for a good price.  And Facebook can’t meet the reserve.

I’m leaving my Facebook account open, with only the barest of personal information available.  And my blog will still post links to my new blog posts in the status update field automatically.  But I’m done with Facebook otherwise.  I’m tired of living in a world where I’m drowning in the minutae of other people’s lives.  I’m tired of inhabiting a universe where every millisecond of my attention is being vied for by tickers, and blinking lights, and scrolling feeds.  I’m tired of a computer algorithm telling me what I’m most interested in.  And I’m tired of trying to negotiate “friendships” with the woman who sat next to my mom in church one Sunday 15 years ago, and decided that, because she knows my name, we’re now BFFs. 

Life is short, and Facebook is stealing too much of it away from me.  So I’m leaving.  And this time, it will probably be for the long haul.  I won’t say never, but I just don’t see the benefit anymore.

I will still be on Google+ (which is a much better “social” network experience), and available via email at matt (at) mattarmstrongmusic dot com.  And of course, I’ll still be here on the blog, spilling my guts to the anonymous world.  I mean, it’s cheaper than therapy, right?

 Posted by Matt at 8:24 pm

I said a-hip, hop, a hip to the hop

 Ramblings, Television, Vacations and Road Trips, Whine  1 Response »
Jul 242011
 

Some random thoughts: 

***

So, I took a hip hop dance class yesterday.  It was pretty tragic.  Turns out that I still have a pretty good mind for choreography.  I could totally remember what steps came next, I just couldn’t make my body do them fast enough.  Also, I did jumping jacks as part of the warm-up for the class.  Apparently, jumping jacks are really bad for your lower back, because the act of doing jumping jacks hurt so badly I could barely stay upright.  I’m going to blame having to counterbalance my gut for the back problems.

***

My staycation ends in about 90 minutes, and I don’t want it to.  This has been perhaps the single most relaxed, enjoyable, and fulfilling week of my entire life.  I cooked, baked, gardened, played video games, did laundry, worked in the garden, watched TV, saw Harry Potter twice, saw Captain America, saw another movie I can’t remember (it obviously made a big impression on me), took Luke swimming, got a gym membership, swam a mile and a half, took a dance class, got the car cleaned, and took lots and lots of naps. It was awesome.

I’m not looking forward to the state of my inbox when I return tomorrow.

***

I re-hired my cleaning lady this week.  I’m having her come once every two weeks instead of once a week like before.  And I’m going to be getting rid of my cable television shortly to help cover the cost.  Part of me feels bad because I know a lot of people can’t afford to pay someone to come to their home and clean, but at the same time, I’ve just decided that this is one of the perks of being single.  There are a lot of things I can’t do because I’m single, but being able to afford to hire a cleaning lady is one of the things I can do.  So I’m going to do it, and I’m not going to feel guilty.

Also, she rocks.  She cleans my apartment better in three hours than I can do by myself in two days.

***

Back with Siskel and Ebert/Ebert and Roper were on TV, I used to love watching their movie review shows.  Then, of course, Siskel died and Ebert lost his lower jaw.  So, instead, Ebert and his wife are now producing a new movie review show for syndication. 

Me no likey.  Look, I get it.  People who love film really love film.  And many of them love “art” film.  They’re more interested in “films” than “movies.”  I really do get it.  But the problem is, I don’t really care that much about most art film.  When I spend $15 to go to the movies, I go to the movies for entertainment.  I get next to nothing out of the two chowderheads Ebert hired to host the show.  Christi Lemiere has, ostensibly, the worst taste in movies of all time.  I mean, she actually gave a thumbs up to Mr. Popper’s Penguins.  And don’t even get me started on that pompus windbag, Ignati Vishnavetsky.  Iganti is the ultimate in movie hipsters.  He just did his “5 Best movies of the year so far” list, and not a single one of his films was even remotely approachable.  And I think it’s great that he cares so much for the art of cinema.  It’s just completely WORTHLESS to me as an interested viewer.  It’s unfortunate, because I really like watching movie commentary—I just can’t stand the commentary of these two. 

Instead, I guess I’ll just have to keep sticking with one of the best movie reviewers out there: Mr. Eric D. Snider. At least he doesn’t have his head so far up his own rear end that all he ever watches and reviews are limited release art films that are more torturous to sit through than a Jr. High Production of Shakespeare.

 Posted by Matt at 8:49 pm

33

 Being Existential, Media, Philosophizing, Ramblings, Whine  1 Response »
Jul 092011
 

In case you were one of the 3,493 people who wished me happy birthday on Facebook, via email, or over the phone, I did, in fact, have my birthday this week.  On Thursday.

It started off with the realization that on my next birthday, my IQ, Waist Size, and Age will all be the same number.

*rim shot*

But seriously, this year’s birthday was not so much fun, I have to say.  I went to work for the first half of the day.  I had originally planned to take the whole day off and have some fun.  But mandatory work meetings cropped up, so I rolled into the office and did my due diligence.  (I’m such a dedicated employee…)

At lunch time, I took off for the day, and went to putter around in my garden for a little while.  I did a tiny little bit of weeding, and watered the place, then I harvested another plastic grocery bag full of lettuce.  I was bringing the salad to a little dinner gathering with some friends on Friday, and I wasn’t going to have time to harvest it then, so I had to get it the day before.  Then I took a nap, woke up, took Luke for his walk, and then got ready for my big birthday evening.

A month ago, I had purchased tickets for the first night of the new stage version of Disney’s Aladdin.  They’re doing an out-of-town tryout to see if it’s something they’d like to workshop for Broadway.  Plus, I had a friend from college who had come out to Seattle to be in the show, so I wanted to go and support her.  I was going with another friend of mine who used to be my next-door neighbor.  He was going to get out of work at 6:30, then we were going to drive into the city to get dinner and see the show.

Well, his assistant over-booked him with clients, so he wasn’t able to get to my place to pick me up until about 7:15.  At that point, we had to rush to get into the city, park, and pick up the tickets before the 8PM curtain.  So, we ended up not getting any dinner.

I realize I may hurt some feelings with what I’m about to write next, but the show was really bad.  Really bad.  First the good, though.  The cast had some of the best voices I’ve heard on stage in a long time.  Everyone (with one major exception) sang quite well.  The guy who played the genie was amazing.  He saved the show.  The production values and lighting were spectacular.  The big problem was the script.  Apparently, they were still doing rewrites up until the day of the show.  And they still REALLY don’t have it. 

I understand that when you adapt a movie to the stage, you have to make some changes.  I totally get it, and I don’t begrudge them the changes.  However, they changed the basic personalities of the major characters.  Instead of being a smart-alec street rat who does, in fact, break the law on purpose, they turned the new Aladdin into this after-school special who just wants to do good because he promised his mom  he would before she died.  (I mean, really.)  Jafar became this poncey, effeminate joker who didn’t provide any menace at all.  (There was no real, scary bad guy).  Jasmine was a spoiled brat with no real, redeeming qualities. And, most painfully, instead of being palled up with a monkey, Aladdin was a member of a band of street musicians, who served as a sort of Greek chorus.  That, in and of itself, isn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but the other three members of the “band” completely pulled you out of the story.  The writers went the cheap direction, bringing in all sorts of modern references when the chorus broke the 4th wall.  An typical example:

Band Mate #1: So, Aladdin was in trouble.  Meanwhile, back at the ranch…
Band Mate #2: What are you talking about?  There’s no ranch here?
Band Mate #3: I’ve got some Hidden Valley (pulls out a bottle of Hidden Valley Ranch).

What made Aladdin the movie so effective was that it was immersive.  The characters grew and changed. Even though the actual scenario was fantastic, the character’s reactions to it were based in reality and grounded thoroughly.  The soul of the film was completely massacred by the script for the stage version.  And the acting style was SO OVER THE TOP.  With the exception of the genie, there was no subtlety at all.  It was like watching a theme-park show version of Aladdin.  And I didn’t for one moment believe the relationship between Jasmine and Aladdin.  Watching them “fall in love” was like watching a 14-year-old gay boy dancing with a girl for the first time at a church dance.  (And trust me, I know what that looks like.)

I would love to see Aladdin make it to Broadway, but NOT this version of Aladdin.  It was painful.  Apologies to my friend who was in the show.  I wish I could be more complementary about the whole thing.  I will say that the cast was quite good (except for Jasmine) and, if the script was re-written, I really think the show could do well.

In any case, we finished the show, and then went to look for a place to eat, and everything was closed.  Even Denny’s.  AND IHOP.  I thought those restaurants never closed.  So, my big birthday dinner was eaten in truck in the parking lot of Wendy’s.  And I’m thankful to my friend who took me there, but it was just a little disappointing.

The biggest problem was that, for the first time in a long, long time, I really fell into a birthday pity party.  I’ve been actively trying not to evaluate my life too much lately.  I’m trying to get out of my head and just enjoy my life as it is.  And I’ve been relatively successful.  It’s the reason why the number of blog posts I write has dwindled so significantly.  Without complaining about my loneliness or lack of a partner, I don’t have a lot to talk about.  But after the show, I got into one of those ever-dangerous contemplative mood pockets. 

This is the first big professional show that I’ve seen since I retired from performing.  It was also the first time that the desire to quit my job and go back to performing hit me so hard.  It was a real, physical pain in my chest.  I spent half of the intermission nearly hyperventilating when I thought that I would have to back to work and sit in that little office in front of a computer all day long, every day for the rest of my life.  I wanted nothing more than to go back to my hotel room, stay up until 2AM, sleep in until 10 or 11, go to the gym, then go back to the theater at 5:00 for another show and repeat it for the next two months before moving somewhere else and starting the whole process over again. 

Then, after I got home, I fell into the “I’m So Lonely” hole of which I seem to be constantly skirting the edges.  My mind spiraled into this black hole of thought that usually goes something like this:

* I’m so lonely.  I need to find someone to share my life with
* I don’t know how to even go about finding someone.  It’s a skill I never learned
* Even if I did know, it wouldn’t matter, because I am so fat and ugly
* I’m going to be fat and ugly forever, which means I’ll never find anyone
* And because I’ll never find anyone, I’ll never learn how to find someone
* Etc., etc., etc.

Look: I’m not saying its logical.  Or even correct.  And I’m certainly not saying it’s a healthy train of thought.  But it is the train of though to which I seem to have purchased a season pass.  It was particularly bad that night, however, because I was realizing that, at the age of 33, there are so many things I have never experienced.  And, the older I get, the less and less likely it is that I will ever get a chance to experience them.  I was freaking out, because in a lot of ways, I’m still an emotional adolescent. 

And then, to wrap it all up, Luke the dog woke me up at 5AM on Friday morning to run outside, eat grass, and puke.  It was the perfect end to the perfect day, pretty much all the way around.

The crankiness of the day has mostly passed, and I used my wallowing as an opportunity to develop a bit of a game-plan for dealing with some of the unhappiness that engulfed me on Thursday.  I’m re-initiating my weight-loss/healthy eating/exercise regimen, since that’s one area that I actually can control.  And next year, I’m going to do a better job of planning my birthday.  Unless someone else wants to volunteer, in which case, just make sure I don’t get any alone time with my thoughts.

“Lefew I’m afraid I’ve been thinking.”
”A dangerous pasttime”
”I know.”

 Posted by Matt at 11:38 pm

My Grateful List–Sarcastic Edition

 Whine  3 Responses »
May 222011
 

Sometimes, there are days when I feel really grateful for all of the many things I have been given.  I’m able to put my petty troubles aside, and look at the world through rose-colored lenses.  I am able to recognize in the struggles of others the many blessings which grace my life.

And then there are days like today. When my crankiness overrides my ability to be grateful. And even my exercises to try to list all of the things that I’m grateful for ends up as an exercise in sarcastic bitterness.  And, let’s be honest, sometimes everyone needs a good whine.  I just happen to need them more often than most.  So, below is my grateful list for today.  Please imagine it being read in the sarcastic tone of voice that only I and a few other masters of sarcasm can pull off.

  1. I’m grateful for a job that pays well under the market rate for the type of work I’m doing.  It helps remind me what it’s like to be a working actor.
  2. I’m really grateful for the new “Consumer Driven Health Plan” that we got at work this year.  It’s been really great to figure out how to fix all my medical issues myself rather than rely on the medical profession.
  3. I’m grateful that I’ve put on these extra pounds.  It’s really helping me stay warm in this cold weather.
  4. Speaking of weather, I’m super grateful for the cold rain we’ve had this year.  It really helps me appreciate the three days of nice weather we’ve had since September 2010.
  5. I’m extra grateful that gasoline has gone up to $4.20 a gallon.  I was afraid that I might actually be able to start saving up a little money so I wouldn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck, but now I don’t have to worry about that anymore.  It also helps me from leaving my house that often.
  6. I’m grateful that it’s finally time for the presidential race to start spinning up.  I was running out of things to listen to on the radio.  We’ll be able to have stuff to listen to for the next year and a half now.
  7. I am really glad the rapture didn’t happen yesterday.  Because I figure that if I’m going to get screwed in the next life anyway, I might as well be getting screwed in this life too.
  8. I’m really grateful for my wonderful dog, who shows his never-ending devotion to me by growling at little children at the farmer’s market, requiring home-made dog food because of his allergies, and needing hundreds of dollars in medication.  (See #2 – he gets better health care than I do.)
  9. I’m super glad that the slugs, rabbits, moles, and voles are eating all of my hard work in my garden.  I was afraid that I was going to have so many vegetables that I was going to have to give them away to friends.  Now that won’t be a problem.
  10. I’m extra grateful that my apartment complex (Archstone, I’m talking to you) keeps upping my rent every time my lease expires.  I was starting to worry that I might have a little extra money left over.
  11. I’m grateful that I still have $30,000 in students loans toward a Music Dance Theater degree that still need to be paid off.  That was a really great investment in my future. 
  12. I love payday.  I get to empty out my bank account by paying my bills in one fell swoop.  Then I don’t have to worry about all that extra money laying around for the next two weeks.
  13. I am grateful for the IRS and the way our Federal Government act as wise stewards to our hard-earned money.  I would hate to think that the massive amount of taxes I pay ever year gets wasted.  Instead, I know that they’re going into Social Security and Medicare for me when I retire.
  14. I’m happy that Netflix keeps sending me broken discs in the mail.  I wouldn’t be able to keep up with all my movies if the discs that can in the mail actually worked.
  15. I glad Food Network stopped showing shows that actually teach you how to cook and started showing only shows about food competitions and eating oversized portions of meat.  I had pretty much learned everything there was to learn about food, so it wasn’t interesting anymore.
  16. I’m really, really ecstatic about all the movies that are coming out in 3D.  3D always makes movies So. Much. Better.
  17. I’m super happy about my baldness.  I was getting so tired with having to pay for all that product.
  18. I’m really glad I have all these credit cards.  That was a really smart, amazing thing for me to have done.  I would totally do it again.
  19. I really glad my car needs an oil change and to get its tags renewed.  It couldn’t have come at a better time, financially.
  20. This headache is truly a gift.  It makes me feel so alive.

Well.  That was cathartic.  Thank you for your time.  I’m really grateful.

 Posted by Matt at 12:33 pm

Whole, Raw Foods are Whole, Raw Crap

 Angry Matt, Food, Rants  3 Responses »
Mar 272011
 

I have had it with the whole, organic, raw foods movements.  Had. It.  I started watching a documentary called "Food Matters" on Netflix tonight, and I got so angry at what I was seeing on the screen I had to turn it off.  Besides being very poorly made, it was so full of half-truths and short-sighted self-righteousness that it was nearly unbearable.  Much like most of the whole, organic food proselytizers.  You believe in your cause, great.  But shut UP about it already.  We get it.  You're so smart to see the light about food, and it's your mission to save us all.  I, for one, am not so concerned about being saved.

Let me be crystal clear: I know I do not eat as healthily as I should.  I eat processed foods.  I love sugar.  I eat fast food, and sometimes I love it.  I know that the way I eat isn't particularly healthy. I need to improve my diet significantly.  I need to eat fewer calories.  My eating habits are directly responsible for my weight gain over the last several years.  And that IS unhealthy.  I also do not believe that we should be raping the land and drowning our food with antibiotics and pesticides unnecessarily.  But I simply can not support so many aspects of the crusades being launched on the food system.

Nearly every one of these crusaders (who I believe are less interested in better health or saving the environment than they are in sapping all of the enjoyment out of life) proclaim that, "we have lost our way.  We should return to the ways of our ancestors, who truly understood our relationship with the earth, with mother nature, and between the food that we eat and our bodies."  Many of these zealots are the same ones who believe that modern medicine is broken, and if we only ate the way people used to eat–with natural, organic foods that are locally grown and harvested by communes of love children who hold hands and sing to the plants while harvesting–then we wouldn't need modern medicine to the same extent we do now.

Well, you know what?  I don't buy it.  You know why I don't buy it?

 

Humans by Era Average Lifespan at Birth
(years)		  
Upper Paleolithic 33  
Neolithic 20  
Bronze Age[5] 18  
Bronze age, Sweden[6] 40-60  
Classical Greece[7] 20-30  
Classical Rome[8] 20-30  
Pre-Columbian North America[9] 25-35  
Medieval Islamic Caliphate[10] 35+  
Medieval Britain[14][15] 20-30  
Early 20th Century[16][17] 30-40  
Current world average[18][19]

70 (2008 est.)

 

Now, I don't know about you, but I would really rather not go back to the good old days of eating only what's grown locally and organically if it means that I also have to go back to an average life span of 30-40 years.  How many people do you know who have died of natural causes between the ages of 30 and 40?  Our average life span has INCREASED by 40 years over just the last century.  We can't have lost our way all that badly if we're living an average of 30-40 years longer than we used to. Now, I know that there are many, many factors that go into these numbers.  Children died young, or women died in child birth.  Treatments for major diseases weren't as readily available.  But I am 100% certain nutrition played a significant part in those numbers as well.  And, to be frank, I would also take pesticide laced, inexpensive food over slaving all day long over a farm, going hungry during the winter, and still dying 30 years earlier.

Even at an average of 70 years, life is short.  I'm not advocating that everyone start eating Hostess Fruit Pies for breakfast, McDonalds for lunch, and a steak for dinner.  We should be eating more vegetables, and we should be eating more locally grown vegetables.  There's a reason why I go to the farmer's market every Saturday for six months out of the year.  But you know what isn't going to happen?  I'm not going to start eating all of my food raw because it's more healthy.  I'm not going to start spending 300% more on my food every month just to say I can have something that's "organic," whatever the hell that means.  No, I'm going to eat what I can afford, and what tastes good.  If I can find healthy options within those two criteria, then great!  If not, then I don't need to buy organic.

And to those people who are worried about genetically modified food, perhaps you should go back to your high school biology classes.  Humans have been genetically modifying our food for GENERATIONS.  Hundreds, if not thousands, of years.  In fact, it was a certain monk in the 1800s with an affinity for pea plants who introduced the world to Genetics.  (P.S. He died at the age of 62.)

I love heirloom varieties of foods.  I purchase my tomato plants from Seedsavers.org.  I generally go for the heirloom varieties at the Farmer's Market. But I don't love them because they're not genetically modified (because, as I mentioned above, they are) but because they taste better.  THAT is what I care about.  Taste.  It's why I spend $13 on a wedge of Parmeseano-Reggiano from the specialty cheese shop instead of getting the green can of white powder.  It's why I spend the extra dollar for the locally made fresh mozzarella instead of the flavorless waxy block wrapped in plastic.  It's why I buy the more expensive heirloom tomatoes or apple varieties at the farmer's market.  I'm not making a stand against genetically modified food.  I'm making a stand for taste.

If you want to freak right the hell out over preservatives or antibiotics in your meat, go ahead.  But as for me and mine, we're going to celebrate flavor, no matter where it comes from.  And that will be the last time I watch such a ludicrously lop-sided and biased "documentary" about the food system ever again.

 Posted by Matt at 9:58 pm

The Photo Meme: Day 28

 Eww. Kill it!, MeMes  No Responses »
Mar 232011
 

Day 28 – A picture of something you’re afraid of
(BTW, I’m ending these with prepositions because that’s the way they were written, but just know that a small part of me dies on the inside every time I do it.)

This photo is a “hell-to-the-no” kind of photo. I have opted not to show the photo here at all.  If you want to subject yourself to the horrors of the full-sized version, you’ll need to go here.  I don’t want to accidentally stumble upon the full-sized picture if I’m ever scrolling through my blog again.

It is a photo of a big-ass spider.

I effing hate spiders.  Hate. Hate. Hate.

You can read more about my overwhelming detestation and loathing of all spider-kind here, here, here, and here.

 Posted by Matt at 10:15 pm

By Grapthar’s Hammer…

 Angry Matt, Being Existential, Ramblings, Whine  4 Responses »
Feb 082011
 

Just so we're clear, the title of this blog post has nothing to do with anything, except the fact that I just happened to watch Galaxy Quest again recently, and, you know, it just popped into my head.  And now, without further ado, my disjointed blog post:

Let's call a spade a spade, shall we?

You're a spade.

Ladies and gentlemen, I don't know about you but I. HAVE. HAD. IT.  I have had it with winter, with rain, with mud, with gray, cloudy skies.  HAD. IT.  I have oft proclaimed my love for Seattle and the surrounding environs, but this winter has me seriously considering a move to some other part of the country where they don't get so much rain.  Of course, if the alternative is 4 feet of snow covered with three inches of freezing rain, then perhaps six months of ankle-deep mud isn't such a bad trade off.  I just need to win the lottery so I can become a snowbird and migrate down to Arizona for five months a year. 
 
No, but seriously.  I'm not generally what one might consider a "peppy" person.  I'm never particularly "upbeat" or "positive."  I'm rarely "happy" or "ebullient." (Don't worry.  I had to look up how to spell that word.)  Instead, I'm "sarcastic" or "pissy."  I act "crabby" because either I am "crabby" or I think being "crabby" is "funny."  (And now I'm going to stop with the incorrectly-utilized quotation marks.  I'm nothing if not sensitive to the overuse of a poor grammatical joke.)  These days, I'm so unpleasant to be around, I don't even like hanging out with myself.  I've been pretty stinking unhappy for the last couple of months, and I'm getting tired of it.  
 
The only problem is that I can't, for the life of me, figure out how to get out of this funk that I'm in.  Or perhaps it's not a funk.  Perhaps it's a rut.  I feel like I need something different.  I don't even know what that something would be, but lawsy, I'm just so freakin' blase about the world these days.
 
But…
 
I've been trying not to vomit my aimless Gen-X self-pitying across my blog as much as I used to, which is why the number of my blog posts has dwindled significantly.  I need something to get me all riled up. But, as my father often says, "You've got to care to get angry."
 
Anyway, I've got a couple of ideas for non-self-pitying blog posts that I want to write and I'll probably start working on in the next couple of days.  I've also been toying around with the idea of releasing an audio version of me reading each blog post.   I'm not really sure why I thought of that, or if that may just be the stupidest thing ever, but I may play around with it.  Just to do something a little different.
 
Or maybe I just need to get laid.  I wonder what a balding, overweight, red-headed male prostitute can make these days.  (On a semi-related note, my old boss emails me now and again and always starts his emails with the salutation, "Hey Matt.  How's tricks."  I'm not sure he knows what that means.  If he does, it's pretty funny.  If he doesn't, it's WAY funnier.)
 
In any case, I'm sure I speak for most of you when I say that I'm ready for spring and summer to be here.  I've had my FILL of winter weather.  I think it's time we gather an angry mob and go lynch mother nature.  That evil b@#$% has been in power long enough.  WHO'S WITH ME! 
 Posted by Matt at 11:21 pm

3D Movies: Hell No. I Won’t Go.

 Angry Matt, Media, Movie Reviews, Rants  3 Responses »
Jan 242011
 

A week and a half ago on a Friday afternoon, I went with a group of my co-workers for a movie and drinks to celebrate and thank my boss who, after five years at the company, was moving on to a new opportunity.  (He was employee #2 at the company, and was largely responsible for building the company from the ground up.)

We went to see The Green Hornet.  The movie itself was epic in its atrociousness.  It was poorly written, horrendously acted, unimaginative in its cinematography, sloppily edited, had poorly balanced sound, and had one of the most irritating leading men ever to grace the silver screen.  But above and beyond that, the movie had one giant, fatal flaw.

It was in 3D.

And that cinematic experience was the final straw that broke the camel’s back.  It caused me to make an important life choice: I WILL NEVER set foot inside a movie theater to watch a 3D movie for as long as I live. 

Whether or not you believe in evolution or whether you believe in creation, or some combination of the two, our eyes and brains have not developed to process movies that are displayed utilizing the tricks that 3D films utilize.  (For a thorough and fascinating article about why the eyes and brain don’t process 3D movies well, check out this blog post by Roger Ebert, and Academy Award-winning editor and sound designer, Walter Murch.)  If God had wanted us to watch movies in 3D, he would have built our eyes different.  And, quite frankly, I’m not interested in sticking around for the millions of years it will take for our eyes and brains to evolve to see 3D movies correctly.  (Quite frankly, I don’t think I could stand to watch that many summer blockbusters.)

Watching a movie in 3D is essentially watching a movie in a dark room with sunglasses on.  For those photography enthusiasts out there, 3D glasses actually darken the image by 1 full f-stop.  It’s like watching through a strong neutral density filter.  Many people, myself included, get terrible headaches or eye strain from watching 3D movies.  Some people physically can’t even see 3D images.  Also, many people, myself included, wear glasses in daily life (due to discomfort issues with contacts and the needed ability to remove the glasses for reading.  (I can’t read with my glasses or contacts in.)  So, I have to wear my scratched, warped, and previously worn sunglasses over top of my regular glasses, which is exceptionally uncomfortable. 

But worst of all, perhaps, is that displaying the movies in 3D does not improve the quality of the movie-going experience.  I have seen perhaps 20 films in 3D over the last 6 years.  I saw one of the very first films to be released in RealD 3D, Monster House.  Never once have I left the theater glad that I paid an extra 2-3 dollars to see the film in 3D.  Usually, I leave the theater crabby and with a throbbing headache.   Even Avatar, the movie that everyone says was “3D done right” was still a crappy movie.  If I’m going to suffer for my art, I want it to be art.  Nobody likes to suffer for schlock.

All of this would be a minor quibble except for one thing: if a movie is released in 3D, most theaters have stopped showing the regular, 2D version of the film entirely.  When Tangled came out recently, I had to go out of my way to find a theater that didn’t play the 3D version, and I ended up driving an extra 10 miles in order to do so.  (Yes, I know this is a first world problem.  But I live in the first world.  And I’m crabbier than usual because it’s January.  So shut up.)

So, I am taking this opportunity to publicly take a stand, and to invite others to do the same.  Hollywood, starting now, I will NEVER set foot inside a movie theater in order to watch a 3D movie again.  I will never pay extra to watch a movie projected in 3D.  I will never again don those stupid, ugly, scratched up glasses over my regular, everyday glasses.  I will never willing pay extra to watch movies through what are, in essence, sunglasses.  It’s not going to happen.

I love going to the theater to watch movies.  Love it.  I’ve loved it since the day I turned 16 years old, got my driver’s license, and drove Jeff, Jamelah, and I to Jackson, Michigan to watch a movie in the cineplex behind Paka Plaza.  Even when I was broke, I went to movies.  I have seen more movies in the theater in the last 16 years than most people will see in their lifetime.  I have spent tens of thousands of dollars on movie tickets in my lifetime.  But until this 3D trend stops, you’re going to be seeing less and less of me all the time.

I have a very nice television and a very nice sound system at home.  I have a Netflix membership with Blu-Ray discs.  There’s not a movie in this world that I need to see so badly I can’t just wait until it comes out on disc at watch in the comfort of my own home.  I would prefer to go see my movies in the theater.  But as long as they keep foisting $15 3D movies on me against my will, I’ll just stay at home.

With Hollywood, money talks.  So here’s my money leaving.  Stop showing 3D movies (exclusively) and I’ll start coming back to the theaters.  I’ll give you my money.  I will even buy your LUDICROUSLY overpriced concessions on occasion.  But never again will a 3D movie get any of my money or my time.

Fellow movie-goers, do the right thing and join me in my boycott of the 3D movie.

 Posted by Matt at 11:55 pm
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