if Bill Clinton were black and currently running for president....
...his big speech on race would begin, "I am not Black. I have never been Black. I am BI-RACIAL."
favorite dialogue heard today:
1: "Want some coffee?"
2: "No thanks I just had a colonoscopy."
1: "You sure?"
2: "No thanks I just had a colonoscopy."
1: "You sure?"
envy
I got sad today reading a lighthearted, funny blog by someone who seems to be part of a happy, intelligent couple. And another blog by that person's partner.
I felt better when I realized that tons of people must invent blogs written by imaginary girlfriends/boyfriends. And maintain them diligently, and fabricate pictures, all to keep up the illusion and stave off the abyss.
I mean, that's what "I" would do.
I felt better when I realized that tons of people must invent blogs written by imaginary girlfriends/boyfriends. And maintain them diligently, and fabricate pictures, all to keep up the illusion and stave off the abyss.
I mean, that's what "I" would do.
things i like about my neighborhood, which i am making note of now, in case i leave it....
The proximity of various excellent dumplings.
The quiet.
That Indonesian place with the beef rendang plate and the avocado shake drizzled with what might be Hershey's chocolate syrup.
That internet cafe with the stunning teenagers that reminds me of cafes on Telegraph in the early 90's.
The deserted nursery next door.
The cheap delicious Vietnamese food.
The clear and sensible positioning of the library, police station, city hall.
The couple that has screaming fights across the street, to break up the quiet.
The neon urban angst of the foot massage parlors along Valley Blvd.
The sunsets framed by the electrical towers.
The things you can find in the supermarkets.
The quiet.
That Indonesian place with the beef rendang plate and the avocado shake drizzled with what might be Hershey's chocolate syrup.
That internet cafe with the stunning teenagers that reminds me of cafes on Telegraph in the early 90's.
The deserted nursery next door.
The cheap delicious Vietnamese food.
The clear and sensible positioning of the library, police station, city hall.
The couple that has screaming fights across the street, to break up the quiet.
The neon urban angst of the foot massage parlors along Valley Blvd.
The sunsets framed by the electrical towers.
The things you can find in the supermarkets.
I don't appreciate....
...that when I start pumping my $3.53-per-gallon at the gas station, the little video screen starts playing some nonsense welcoming video and a disembodied robot voice says, "Hi! Welcome to Shell! Nice to see you!"
What exactly do they mean, "SEE you?" The gas station security cameras see you? Some kind of surveillance satellite logs your position? The attendant has you in a laser sight? It's a talking video monitor, for crying out loud. Who is actually seeing who? There's friendly, and there's paranoia-inducing. I'd just as soon take the non-talking small-talk-impaired old-school gas pump myself, I dunno if that's showing my age, or what.
...On an unrelated note, today is one of those exceedingly rare days when I really wish I was in Texas.
What exactly do they mean, "SEE you?" The gas station security cameras see you? Some kind of surveillance satellite logs your position? The attendant has you in a laser sight? It's a talking video monitor, for crying out loud. Who is actually seeing who? There's friendly, and there's paranoia-inducing. I'd just as soon take the non-talking small-talk-impaired old-school gas pump myself, I dunno if that's showing my age, or what.
...On an unrelated note, today is one of those exceedingly rare days when I really wish I was in Texas.
this week's funniest casino dialogue that will not make sense to normal people...
SCENE: A California casino. The pan-9 table.
Mama loses a hand.
MAMA (screams): Change Dealer!
The dealer is stoic. Mama loses another hand.
MAMA: CHANGE DEALER!
And again.
MAMA: DEALER CHANGE!!! CHANGE DEALER!!!!
FLOORMAN: Why don't you just bring your OWN dealer...?
.....ROTFLMAO, OMG.
Mama loses a hand.
MAMA (screams): Change Dealer!
The dealer is stoic. Mama loses another hand.
MAMA: CHANGE DEALER!
And again.
MAMA: DEALER CHANGE!!! CHANGE DEALER!!!!
FLOORMAN: Why don't you just bring your OWN dealer...?
.....ROTFLMAO, OMG.
"Because our captain flies much better than he drives, we're asking you to remain seated..."
When you think about it, have you ever heard the same joke from a Southwest Airlines flight attendant? And have you ever heard a really bad joke? Think about it: those people have gotta be doing dozens of flights a week, and they never have to recycle their material. OK, sometimes they elect not to tell a joke. But when they do grace you with that upon-landing one-liner, it always feels fresh and unrehearsed, and is hardly ever groan-inducing. For over 20 frickin' years. That's a commitment to comedy excellence.
And really, think about the razor-thin line their family-oriented comedy must tread; they can't touch on any hot topics like terrorism, race or politics. All they can talk about is your flight experience, in which they may riff on the local weather, turbulence, or the pilot, without ever implying that the captain is in fact drunk, or that you, the passenger, are in actual danger. That is a pretty small and delicate window of cleverness. I'm not saying I've ever busted a gut over one of their bits, but I'll take that human touch over a two-inch TV screen any day.
And really, think about the razor-thin line their family-oriented comedy must tread; they can't touch on any hot topics like terrorism, race or politics. All they can talk about is your flight experience, in which they may riff on the local weather, turbulence, or the pilot, without ever implying that the captain is in fact drunk, or that you, the passenger, are in actual danger. That is a pretty small and delicate window of cleverness. I'm not saying I've ever busted a gut over one of their bits, but I'll take that human touch over a two-inch TV screen any day.
notes on a trip to Sundance....
- We left Las Vegas with $100 in Keno winnings on the same night the Monte Carlo caught fire.
- Although it did actually snow in San Gabriel last Thursday morning, there's nothing like travelling to Utah to remind you that California is never ever cold.
- I stayed one night at the Treasure Mountain Inn, a.k.a. the TMI on its stationary and signage. Sure enough, there was a lot of TMI going on that night, mainly in the form of excited guests having wonderful times and shouting things like "I'm going to be at the party at 1010 Norfolk" or "I'm wearing a really sexy dress under this coat" just a littttle too loudly.
- Made more trips to Wal-Mart than I saw actual films at the Festival. Not because I am so in love with Wal-Mart, but because in certain places it is the only place to go.
- Saw a dead moose at the side of the highway while driving to Salt Lake City.
- Had a curiously satisfying encounter with law enforcement.
- Sang along to the "Once" soundtrack in the car about eighty times.
- Saw the cohort's film on the big screen, finally, and felt strange pride, envy, and wonder.
- I was recovering from an illness and everyone around me was coming down with something. So there wasn't so much awesome partying as there was moderate drinking and decisive naps. And really, amidst all the anxious film-pushing and random acts of networking, it was enough just to sit and relax and watch the snow fall and flurry.
- Although it did actually snow in San Gabriel last Thursday morning, there's nothing like travelling to Utah to remind you that California is never ever cold.
- I stayed one night at the Treasure Mountain Inn, a.k.a. the TMI on its stationary and signage. Sure enough, there was a lot of TMI going on that night, mainly in the form of excited guests having wonderful times and shouting things like "I'm going to be at the party at 1010 Norfolk" or "I'm wearing a really sexy dress under this coat" just a littttle too loudly.
- Made more trips to Wal-Mart than I saw actual films at the Festival. Not because I am so in love with Wal-Mart, but because in certain places it is the only place to go.
- Saw a dead moose at the side of the highway while driving to Salt Lake City.
- Had a curiously satisfying encounter with law enforcement.
- Sang along to the "Once" soundtrack in the car about eighty times.
- Saw the cohort's film on the big screen, finally, and felt strange pride, envy, and wonder.
- I was recovering from an illness and everyone around me was coming down with something. So there wasn't so much awesome partying as there was moderate drinking and decisive naps. And really, amidst all the anxious film-pushing and random acts of networking, it was enough just to sit and relax and watch the snow fall and flurry.
new year's epiphany
On any given day I am among the last people in the world to go to sleep, insomniac Hawaiians notwithstanding.
i saw....
...the most amazing-looking woman in the casino today, not as in amazingly beautiful, just dressed and groomed in a noir-ish style that seemed impossibly elegant and dramatic. She was Korean of course. She wore a white leather trenchcoat, black scarf, blue-striped dress shirt over a white sweater, and a grey fedora, all of them expensively detailed, tastefully patterned, and immaculately fit to her body. I've never been in the presence of clothes used to such maximum effect, whispering both of new money and old mystery. She had short platinum-dyed hair and a face with so many surgical modifications it actually appeared to be a mask - the Phantom of the Opera mask, with eyes slightly receded behind a bloodless surface. She looked like Blade Runner and the Lupin III anime rolled up in Switch from the Matrix and Brigitte Lin in Chungking Express. She totally had a hidden gun, or a husband that she needs you to kill, or a bionic forked tentacle-tongue, or something. I am sure that her chewing gum cost more than I make in a week. I do not have a picture.
ho ho ho
The minimum bet on our baccarat table is $200. But we always get people who want to bet $100 or less and we have to remind them. The other day, some back-line papa placed a single $100 chip on the betting circle next to me. For some reason I didn't say the simple reminder. Instead I turned to J-, the player sitting next to me, and said "J-, bet a thousand there." This was a bit irregular because as a practical matter we never advise players when, where, or how much to bet, although many of them are superstitiously convinced that we know which spots will win because we are, after all, professionals. So for no real good reason I violated this policy. I didn't really expect her to listen to me, anyway. I just wanted someone to bet more on top of the $100.
....So she does it; she places $1000 in chips on top of the $100 chip, making it a legal bet. Now I'm in the soup; this is a player that I sort of like, she winked at me once, and has a generally good nature. And, if there's one superstition I've gained from working in the casino, it is this: The Players I Like Always Lose. The only way I can ASSURE that someone will lose, it seems, is when I hope in my heart that they will win. So, as the cards come out, I'm really ill about this, because I don't want her to lose the bet on my silly advice. Not because I'll get yelled at, but because she is the kind of player nice enough to not yell about it.
....And she's more a $300-400 bettor typically, so a $1000 bet is kind of a big event in her day. She wouldn't make it unless she had a Very Strong Feeling, or otherwise felt it ordained by someone with Professional Gambling Superpowers, i.e. me.
....But she won! The bank overhit, player bets won, and I looked like a genius. I both couldn't believe it, and was completely relieved. At last someone I was rooting for had won a hand! I felt like Santa Claus. I quickly told her that would be my only advice for the day (lest she hound me for further groundless predictions) and went back to work, that is, back to being professionally indifferent towards every single outcome.
....So she does it; she places $1000 in chips on top of the $100 chip, making it a legal bet. Now I'm in the soup; this is a player that I sort of like, she winked at me once, and has a generally good nature. And, if there's one superstition I've gained from working in the casino, it is this: The Players I Like Always Lose. The only way I can ASSURE that someone will lose, it seems, is when I hope in my heart that they will win. So, as the cards come out, I'm really ill about this, because I don't want her to lose the bet on my silly advice. Not because I'll get yelled at, but because she is the kind of player nice enough to not yell about it.
....And she's more a $300-400 bettor typically, so a $1000 bet is kind of a big event in her day. She wouldn't make it unless she had a Very Strong Feeling, or otherwise felt it ordained by someone with Professional Gambling Superpowers, i.e. me.
....But she won! The bank overhit, player bets won, and I looked like a genius. I both couldn't believe it, and was completely relieved. At last someone I was rooting for had won a hand! I felt like Santa Claus. I quickly told her that would be my only advice for the day (lest she hound me for further groundless predictions) and went back to work, that is, back to being professionally indifferent towards every single outcome.
whoo hoo hoo ooh
I'm going to write a song called "My Ex-Girlfriend Just Got A Movie Into Sundance."
Not today. Today I'm just going to skulk around, maybe eat some Oreos. But one of these days. A bittersweet pop anthem. With lots of defiant "whoo hoo hoos" in it. Oh yeah.
Not today. Today I'm just going to skulk around, maybe eat some Oreos. But one of these days. A bittersweet pop anthem. With lots of defiant "whoo hoo hoos" in it. Oh yeah.
A big Michael Bolton day.
So while watching football today I saw 2 Michael Bolton references in the space of 3 commercials. The first ad was for the Ford Focus (or "Vehicle-Mounted MP3 Player" as the ad would apparently like you to think of it) in which one guy mocked the other guy for having "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You" on his car stereo. Then followed another Ford ad. Then there was an Etrade ad set, again, to "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You," not even sung by Michael Bolton but covered by some histrionic throat-wrenching man-diva who sounded almost exactly like Michael Bolton.
I mean, how did this HAPPEN? Now the advertisers are using our own collective embarassment over the Michael Bolton Era against us? Both ads were ironically riffing on the song as the syrupy embodiment of cheese, not as "the cool song that makes you want to buy the Ipod because it will somehow enable you to find out what the song is."
But on the flipside....whenever I hear the big MB wail, I'm reminded of that night in I was DJing in a foreigner bar in Taiwan, and my slightly-drunk Pakistani youth-hostel-mate staggered over to my little booth and said, trembling, "Come ON man! GIVE me the Michael Bolton!"
Unfortunately, I didn't have any to play. But those were some good times.
I mean, how did this HAPPEN? Now the advertisers are using our own collective embarassment over the Michael Bolton Era against us? Both ads were ironically riffing on the song as the syrupy embodiment of cheese, not as "the cool song that makes you want to buy the Ipod because it will somehow enable you to find out what the song is."
But on the flipside....whenever I hear the big MB wail, I'm reminded of that night in I was DJing in a foreigner bar in Taiwan, and my slightly-drunk Pakistani youth-hostel-mate staggered over to my little booth and said, trembling, "Come ON man! GIVE me the Michael Bolton!"
Unfortunately, I didn't have any to play. But those were some good times.
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