Prices that suck comedy cock

I tip my hat to Vino Piazza for supporting and promoting stand-up comedy in this little area, including "Men who kick comedy butt."

I tip a single finger to them for charging 25 bucks a head for admission to these events, plus a $5 deposit for a wine glass. Wine glass deposit?? Just serve the goddamn drinks! Every other venue manages to deal with flatware logistics without having to take such extraordinary measures! What's next, frisking patrons on the way out for forks and ketchup bottles?

They would have had two more attendees for their Saturday show except for these brazen prices. Pepperbellys in Fairfield is a dedicated comedy venue, is closer to the astronomically-priced Bay Area, and they charge less for nights featuring genuinely nationally-known comedians. Shit, they had Orny Adams for $15 a show, and Dana Fucking Carvey for $20!

With my birthday coming up, I would love to find a good comedy gig to splurge on, but this just isn't it. This area needs more comedy options, bringing quality up, and prices down.

Why God thinks I'm hilarious

If it's not clear, the title of this blog refers to my life's little tribulations, and my certainty that God laughs his ass off as one of the ants in his ant farm struggles, flails and does wild combat with forces no one else sees or understands. I know this because God tosses odd little things in my path just to see what I'll do. Some examples:

• The DUI program I signed up for is run by a guy whose last name is "Boire," the French word for "to drink."
• Collecting the one egg our 40-odd chickens produce per day, I slipped it into my pocket for later dropoff. It broke in my pocket during my morning chores before I could unload it. This is the second time so far.
• Getting dressed the day we took my daughter to the airport for the big goodbye, I seriously considered wearing the "World's Greatest Dad" T-shirt she bought for me a few years ago. I didn't do it, but I shoulda.

It just keeps gettin' funnier...

Nice...

Today, my wife stopped, looked at me and for no specific reason said: "Hey! I love you..." With a little smile that was genuine and coy.

Man, that was nice. I'm filing that memory away for posterity.

Airports always affect me this way

We're in line at the airport. All i can think about is putting a Paris ticket on the credit card.

Back to Utah, an imperfect familial milestone

Today is the day my daughter flies back to Utah to live with her mother again, as Fate intended it.

I haven't blogged much about it because of the negative feelings that have seeped into the whole arrangement. There are senses of failure, regret and loss that make it unpleasant to ponder, especially in print for everybody to ponder with me. My Dad and my brother (why do we capitalize the word "Dad" and not "brother"? Am I doing it wrong?) and my good friend Joe are very against it, and I don't blame them. I'm not thrilled about it myself. Unfortunately, they're human just like me, and as limited as I am in their ability to come up with a better plan, and so we roll with the plan we have now: back to Utah.

I said I'm not thrilled about it, and I'm not. That doesn't mean it's not the right thing to do. It just means it's not a perfect solution. There are signs that it's the right thing to do, if such signs are to be found at all:

• No other option made itself known, and believe me, we were lookin'
  
• Once the decision was made, the relief of said decision-making process was immediate
  
• No resistance to the idea was raised, from any of the quarters that could have arrested the process (her Mom, my daughter, etc.)

In other words, if one were looking for signs, as in: "Hey Universe, if this isn't right, let me know by fucking it up like all the other plans you determine aren't 'meant to be,'" then this absence of impedance could clearly be construed as God's rubber stamp of approval.

I have to admit to the relief of closure about the whole thing that borders on exultation. The last year hasn't been a picnic, familially speaking, and the last six months even less so. I am very much looking forward to the drive back from the airport, and the simplicity, privacy, certainty and freedom promised thereafter.

I have to remind myself that we can take pride in the fact that we took a chance, brought her out, and did the best we could for as long as we could. That's not nothing. I don't know that it's fair to paint ourselves heroically over it, but it's worth remembering. I tend to forget positives like that, and focus on the negative, searching for something to feel bad about. What a lousy habit that has become. Gotta ditch it.

And so we'll trudge forward today with the unpleasant business at hand, resolute with the sense that it's the best imperfect step we can take. It's still a bummer.

Clam idiot

When one embraces dormancy with canines, one can rouse with Ctenocephalides canis. One must practice care.

If you're wondering, it's not my own predicament upon which I muse.

New website design

I almost forgot to mention - I updated my website, TomBickle.com. Slip on by, and let me know what you think of the new design...

Don't expect a kiss afterwards

My wife lay in the bed with me last night, winding down from a busy day. Suddenly, a colorless gas drifted in from the foot of the bed. My wife, who has always had a more sensitive sniffer than I, detected the onslaught first:

"Uck! Oh, God babe - did you fart?"

"No, it must've been the dog, I ... holy God...!"

"Ew, that's sick, dude!"

"Quick, shit in my mouth, it's the only hope of concealing the smell!"

We survived the odiferous attack, and I awoke to the dog panting at the bedroom door. She is usually a paragon of patience (and really, her appointment schedule is typically light), so I got the message and let her out. It was surprising that even though she felt an internal cramping that we can all identify with, once outside she still took the time to circle Ground Zero a few times before stopping to relieve herself. I guess protocol is important.

Less of her to love

My wife is down 57 pounds from her recent high. She's looking great, and the sex is better all the time (not that there was anything to complain about, you know...).

Coffee is a spiteful but useful friend

This morning my son slept in, and I relished the peace until almost 8 a.m. The result was that I was too afraid to start my usual pot of coffee until two hours later than normal. What a difference from my normal routine!

I didn't get a withdrawal headache, but I did languish in a decaffeinated stupor, and the morning slid idly by. While I normally get a lot done by 9:30am, today I barely managed to get off my ass by then.

On the other hand, I am making up for it now. My buddy and I went for a nice walk up the road, at the end of which you get a teasing glimpse of the Calaveras River. We picked up three plastic grocery bags of trash along the way, something I have been urged to do by the voices in my head for the last several trips up that way. Maybe now they'll be quiet, or at least find something else to nag me about.

I've done some housework, necessitated by a weekend that was too busy for housework, but more fun than I had anticipated. Donald and his wife visited, and Amy came over. It was nice to have company for a change.

Art Teacher Retires, Former Student Shrugs

I knew this guy.

I had Mr. Rodriguez as an art teacher during my time at Calla High School. He had a sleepy demeanor and loose classroom rules that students appreciated. There enough stiff pricks at that school that any teacher who didn't goose-step through the place looking for a way to stick it to some unsuspecting stoner gets an immediate bump in karma points from me. On the other hand, since his classroom shared a wall with the school's main john, he was known to commando through the door and try to catch a punk with a ciggie in his lips. Karma negated...

His and my relationship was of such little substance that it can barely be called such. He wasn't a bad guy, I can say that. I was interested in art and tried to tweeze some techniques out of him, but I didn't learn much. No real fault of his, I haven't learned much since, either, and what I have picked has been slow going. Sometimes, things just don't click.

There were a few folks on staff at the school that had a significant and beneficial impact on me there, he just wasn't one of them. I'm sure he touched some students in a deep and positive manner, just not me. Then again, as much as I hated my entire pre-college scholastic experience, it is more than a lukewarm statement to say that his was not a contribution that added to that hate. I'm content to settle for that.

So, he's hanging up the smock. Good for him.

Don't do it, Daffy!

I went out to feed our chickens and ducks this morning, and found one of them trying to hang himself. He had his head caught in a loop of the bailing string that holds open the automatic feeder. I eased him out of it and let him go, but he must have been in it a while. He started to waddle off in a very crooked line, obviously disoriented. I picked him up and held him for a couple minutes, letting him breathe and get some blood into his brain. He seemed all right after that.

I would have snapped a picture, but I left my phone in the house! Darn it!

Saving the world, one duck at a time...

Memorial Day, not Labor Day

Our Memorial Day weekend was not the three-day relaxfest the more-optimistic among us might have envisioned.

Saturday, we spent a very pleasant 45 minutes barbecuing with Ken & Judie before lugging materials and digging post-holes to help construct a chicken pen.

Sunday, we moved a cord or two of firewood for Mary, giving her back the concrete porch that it had covered, and cut up some logs that were too big to burn in the fireplace.

Saturday and Sunday were both spent helping people who never hesitated to help us when we needed it, so I'm not complaining. Well, maybe just a little, but it's only because I'm petty and have a lousy perspective. That's all.

The Iceman Goeth

Wow - amazing night last night, not that I saw it myself. I read on UFC's website that Chuck "The Iceman" Liddell fell to Quinton "Rampage" Jackson last night on the Pay-per-View event that I didn't have the time or money to view.

Amazing. Chuck Liddell puts the "bad" in bad-ass, and yet Rampage took it to him. I eagerly await the recounting of the fight in the news media, which is as yet absent this morning. I also await the trickling down of the fight to free TV (I love the UFC on SpikeTV).

Liddell/Jackson was just one in a long line of upsets last night, at least in my mind, and I imagine it was a worthy evening for Pay-per-Viewers. Chris "The Crippler" Leben, a UFC hero of mine, lost a decision. It was his third loss in four fights and not representative of his power and ability. Ivan Salaverry, nearly superhuman in the fights of his that I've seen, lost a TKO in the first round. Sean Salmon, who I saw perform impressively in the past against Rashad Evans until what I consider a lucky kick to the head separated him from his senses, lost in the first round last night as well.

Conventional wisdom and expectation were on hiatus last night, as almost every fighter I would have confidently picked as a winner lost, and lost quickly. Some outcomes that were not surprising included a successful Karo "The Heat" Parisyan. I just got done watching his tremendous fight against Diego Sanchez in a rerun on SpikeTV - although Karo could not find a way to beat Diego and ultimately lost this past fight, he fought tenaciously, with the heart of a warrior. Just an animal, and I am not amazed at all to see him doing well.

I must remember to send flowers to my nephew Chad, whose MySpace page sports some eye-popping media and an "Iceman" Liddell makeover. I am sure he is more stunned this morning than I am.

i love wildlife, but this is ridiculous

Going to my father-in-law's this morning, we didn't get a mile from the house before having to stopping for both a deer and a peacock, and seeing another deer. I can't believe anyone has trouble selling houses up here.

Homegrown therapy

Despite the title, this post is not about smoking pot. It's about the things that I can pursue that keep me happy, like:

• French studies - see yesterday's posts.
• Discount therapy - formerly known as retail therapy, discount therapy is a more accurate moniker, because few things please me more than getting something for nearly nothing. Today, my buddy and I ambled on over to a moving sale within ambling distance, and picked up a gaggle of second-hand items, including a camp lantern, a socket set and a metal cart. It's funny - moral issues aside, I'm still happier buying these things for a song than I would be actually stealing them outright.
• Music - No explanation necessary. Yesterday it was John Mellencamp day. I checked out his website, and realized it has been a helluva a long time since I bought one of his albums. The reason is that his music got more and more sad, regretful and dreary (much like this blog, you might say), lamenting the plight of the poor and others. His message just resonated less and less with me. I stuck it out for a few albums, but it never picked up. Maybe I'll ask for a recent release for my birthday (the 1998 release, "John Mellencamp" looks pretty tasty - you know, if you're thinkin' about it. Or, the latest, "Freedom's Road"). It's coming up you know, June 19th, same as Garfield!
  

Et plus encore...!

Hey, I'm really getting carried away with this merde...

But it is good to see that France24.com, the French version of CNN, is still plugging away. What I like best is that you can get French news in English, because although I read better than I speak or listen, I still don't read as well as I'd like to.

Allons-y!

Plus de francais

More French stuff:

TV5monde.org (TV 5 World) has long offered online media to help us learn French. I see that they now offer a very dedicated-looking product called apprendre.tv. I haven't browsed it much yet, but it looks nifty.

Le francais retourne

My self-imposed French studies have been abjectly neglected for many months. I picked up the book again today, and picked up where I left off. I still enjoy it. Gotta get back on track, if I'm going to go back to Paris, or impress the winemaker outside of town; both of which I would very much like to do!

So far, so good

I had a job interview Monday morning, went really well! I was loose - I made a conscious effort not to get penned into that space in my head where I have to say everything perfectly and have all the smooth answers. The result was that I was likeably obnoxious, and passed this portion of the process. Now, on to the background check! Wish me luck...