Friday, August 11, 2006

Report out of Austin

Well, we looked at houses with the woman formerly known as Duda. It's been actually a pretty good bit of fun, and I suggest that if you want to find a way to spend your weekends, find a realtor and go through other people's houses.

I can honestly say, every comment we got back regarding other people's houses sort of makes sense now. I didn't mind other people's stuff being in the house. What was odd was that some people didn't appear to have actually cleaned their house, and one house just had a sort of "crime-scene" vibe. It didn't take a lot of imagination to think some bad hoo-doo had gone down.

We found three houses I could move into tomorrow. That's good news, to me. The down side is that we haven't sold our hourse in Chandler, so all this looking is a crap shoot. A lot of things have to fall into place for us to get one of the three favored homes.

We finihes after 2:00 today, so I hit Austin Books. Jim asked for a report-out, but, honestly... it was mostly me digging through long boxes and trying not to wear Jamie's patience too thin. Jamie has sort of found her own niche of comics, so that was okay. She's fine to look on her own and doesn't get too bored.

But here's the deal with Austin Books... I could walk around all day in that store. And with a few hundred bucks to keep me going, I could probably be a happy man.

Here's a big confession I made to Jamie: I now have every issue of all three volumes of Mister Miracle. Hooray, Austin Books! Together, we finally finished my collection. Now to move on to New Gods, Forever People and all the Simonson stuff I don't have yet.

Also, I found some Superman back-issues to pick up, some issues my comic shop apparently just never ordered in, and the Public Enemy comic. Yes, PE put out a comic. It is morbid curiosity which drives me forward.

As much as I enjoy my weekly jaunt to my LCS (local comic shop for you non-comic types), Austin Books is just ten times more awesome. They treat comics as an artform, not as tawdry collectibles, and the organization of the store is testament to their intent. All the indie stuff is near the entrance, prominently displayed. Creators get their own organization, with guys like Kirby, Jack Cole and Gil Kane getting their own sections right beside guys like Mark Millar.

Back issues are easy to get to, easy to rifle through and the store often has multiple copies in many different forms of condition (I found one copy of an issue of Superman where the villain had been clipped right out of the cover). All the usual other stuff is well displayed, from toys to statues to T-shirts.

Dizzam. One nice shop.

I need to go back and buy that New Gods #1.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

GET THE @#$% OUT OF DODGE (FOR THE WEEKEND)

Wednesday evening Jamie and I will be touching down at Austin-Bergstrom Airport. We'll be spending some time with the woman formerly known as Duda as we scout for homes in the greater S. Austin area.

If you are in Austin and have time, League of Melbotis may also have time, and maybe we can meet up at Gatti's or something. I know I officially owe Peabo and Adriana dinner, and definitely owe Jeff Shoemaker a visit. We also need to pop in to see Meredith "The Destroyer" Shaw and maybe grab a bite with her parents. I also feel bad as I have as of yet to meet The Man Named Harms, who also recently re-relocated to Waterloo. Not to mention seeing the recently engaged Lala, and maybe finally meet her mystery beau.

I'd feel more pressure to squeeze in more fun, but we do plan to live in Austin within the next two months, if all goes well. So, you know, if you're feeling like we're ignoring you, just imagine all the fun we'll have each and every day once LoM relocates. Our doors are always open, except when they're not.

The realtor came by this evening. She's going to run open houses while we're gone. Just Pat the Realtor and Jeff the Cat, hanging on Hawken Way. I sort of wonder how many neighbors will wander through just to see what we've been up to for the past four years.

Both the job hunt and house-selling bit are going slowly. Part of me is hoping to land in Austin with some free time, but the dollars and cents part knows a job now is better than a job later.

Speaking of, Sunday marked my 4th anniversary in my current job. While the job is okay, I do not see how people make a career in a single job. I definitely am feeling the itch to move on. Perhaps I shall become a soldier of fortune. Or an NFL linesman. Or a Weinermobile Driver. Or some combination of all three.

I need to find time, while in Austin, to hit Austin Books. It's been too long. And I am sure they have a kick-ass selection of Superman, Action Comics and DC Presents back-issues (but can any top the DC Presents: Superman & Santa Claus team-up book Jim D. sent me?).

Also, looking for Kirby's Fourth World stuff. I have reprints of some of the original 4th World, but it's in black and white. I'm looking for original issues. Not just of Kirby's original runs, but the later series as well by Simonson and Co. Still, nobody writes Fourth World like Kirby. Especially the dialogue.

Anyhow, this is pretty much it from me until Sunday night, I'd guess. Have yourselves a good few days, Leaguers. We'll be back next week.

The League promotes a few shows...

Okay, if you have Sci-Fi, Channel, the League once again suggests "Garth Marenghi's Darkplace" running Sunday nights on Sci-Fi. And, once again, if I try to explain it, I'm just doing the show a disservice on many, many levels.

And "Who Wants to be a Superhero?" on Sci-Fi is actually a good show. All of my fanboy worries are wiped away. Stan still really knows what it is to be a superhero, and it's interesting to see the contestants facing challenges, both physical and of character. It's not all about putting on a costume and acting like a lunatic, Leaguers. The rules of polite society (and not so polite society) sort of go out the window when you're hanging with the cape and cowl set.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Ok, Steans Family. So my 4th of July "Mentos + Diet Coke Display of Patriotism" was less than a roaring success.

Here's what we're trying next time.

Dry Ice Bomb.

Ka-POWWWWWW!!!!


Roy's Taxi - RIP

read here

When I was but a wee League living in the suburbs of Austin, one of my earliest impressions of town was Roy's Taxi service's fleet of red and (aqua? turqouise? What's that color?) taxis which could be seen all over the place.

The first time I moved away from Austin, KareBare was a sport and took Steanso, the League and a few others to see "Slacker" at the River Oaks theater. The movie, of course, opens with Richard Linklater getting a ride in one of Roy's taxis and getting all metaphysical on the driver about his choice to take a taxi and how that would effect him for the rest of his days.

There are always local establishments which are truly part of a city, and Roy's Taxi was certainly one of the least appreciated of those establishments. After all, you had to be going somewhere without your own transportation in order to call upon Roy's. I can honestly say I think I called a cab a total of three times in 16 years in Austin, and that was never going to be enough to keep those red and tuquoise cars in service. But I always called Roy's.

So long, Roy's. Austin's streets will be a little poorer without your services.

Monday, August 07, 2006

Not much to report.

We went to see "Talladega Nights" and walked out before the movie had even started. I've gone on at length about Gilbert, AZ movie audiences, so I shall elaborate only in bullet form.

-crying baby, no older than 6 months
-mom of crying baby sitting in center of theater, conveniently placed so she can't escape, constantly bouncing baby with synchronously timed "SHHH, SHHH, SHHH!!!" to weeping infant
-teenagers arrive during trailers, and despite row of empty seats in front of us, sit beside me and begin talking
-teenagers arrive just as movie begins, and despite row of empty seats in front of us, sit beside Jamie and begin full blown conversation

Anyway, we left.

Movies are quiet time. Even silly NASCAR movies. Silencio!

Perhaps that is what I should have done years ago. I should have become the masked crusader of the Gilbert WTC. Dressing in a Zorro-like outfit, I could have walked to the front of the theater at the beginning of each movie, address the audience with my concerns regarding their noise making and text-messaging. Politely informed, it would then be their responsibility to adhere to the rules of basic etiquette. Should the rules be broken, they would then be adequately prepared to face the wrath of Silencio the Vengeful.

I'm not sure what would have embodied the wrath of Silencio, but I'm fairly sure it would involve a handful of roofing nails and a string of profanities.



The fortress is de-fortressed. I am sad. I have no idea what my next house may be like. I do not know if there will be another fortress like it again. Jamie is promising me I will have a fortress once again, but I know how these things go. We're not going to find the right kind of house, or the house we do find will have some sort of lay-out where I can't really pull off the fortress once again with quite the same panache.

It was a beautiful dream.

Jamie is very understanding, and she DOES want for me to have my space. But the problem sort of becomes the insistence on the ghetto-ization of that space. I may once again get a back room, but I want a functional room. I want room to move around and do things in my fortress. The fortress of Arizona was always too small and cramped. It had bad airflow. There was not room to just sit and relax. In fact, the only seating I ever had was the stool I had at my drawing table. Consequently, each time I sat in the fortress to read, it was on the floor, where I'd soon be joined by dogs and cats and the wife. And it all felt a little stupid, us all sitting on the floor....

I want square footage. Space for my drawing table, somewhere to sit to read or watch the tube, and maybe some space for organizing comics. Is that crazy? Is that completely insane? We'll see.

We're headed to Austin for a house hunt this weekend. Keep your ear to the ground.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Saturday Night

Just proving that either old age is setting in, or that the Arizona sun has finally melted my brain... I've come to enjoy baseball.

Originally I watched the sport to humor the in-laws and because I like hot dogs. And I'm lazy and like sitting still for hours on end. Then I sort of got into the whole Americanness and nostalgia factor. Baseball is a common thread from generation to generation, it's been there across three centuries, and is simple proof that people really like to watch people in funny pants while they enjoy a beer and peanuts. Then I kind of started digging the idea of The Cubs. The League loves an underdog, and if you want to find a perennial underdog... hey, why not the Cubbies?

Baseball is also on TV 24 hours a day for six months of the year. So it's accessible. And each team plays like 800 games a season. And it's mind-blurringly slow, so you can turn on a game and sort of wander in and out of the room and do other stuff while the game is on. Initially I couldn't get past the fact that it's not the rapid-fire style of play like basketball where you can see change on a half-second by half-second basis. I've slowly come to appreciate the flow of the game, the challenge of each pitch and the face off between each pitcher and batter. Also, I like the Taco Bell taco race in the 5th inning.

We've been to a few games this season. Tickets are $10 a seat, so how can you go wrong?

Anyway, this evening we saw the Astros beat the tar out of the D-Backs. I can now say I've seen Roger Clemens pitch, and I've seen my first grand slam. Good game. For Astros fans.



Our process for evacuation is slow going. But ongoing.

We've had a lot of people walk through the house. It's sort of depressing as realtors and people walk through the house and you never hear anything afterward other than "your house is too cluttered." Well, we're working on that.

The Fortress of Nerditude is slowly being disassembled. I've packed all my graphic novels and toys away. Most of the pictures have been pulled down. So now it's mostly empty shelf space and a half-assed blue paint job. I have no doubt we'll continue to get those same comments. Apparently humans and realtors alike fear blue walls. I haven't quite yet decided that I need to paint the walls yet. I'm willing to wheel and deal. I'll negotiate. But I also don't want to paint walls if the people plan to paint them a different color later, anyway.

It's all very irritating. Who wants people who you don't even know walking through your house and thinking you're insane? Because you have blue walls.

Anyway, the realtor today called and said "we'll be there between 11 and 12". And then showed up at 2:30 when I was talking to a new potential landscaper in the front yard. After the realtors are an hour late, you sort of give up on them. But, if you want to sell your house, you have to act like a trained monkey every time they want you to hop.

No, I am not enjoying this process. I had always dreamed of just going ahead and buying a house in Austin, moving into it, and THEN putting the house up for sale. You could then actually clean the house and it would stay clean. You wouldn't have to worry about buyers having no sense of spatial relationships as they "can't imagine their furniture in your house." And you're sort of standing there wondering how anybody ever @#$%ing sold a house before when that's what everybody says.

It's a couple of rooms and a toilet. Try to use your imagination.

Must be patient. Must. Be. Patient.

Anyway, I'm going to bed.

Goodnight, Leaguers.

Friday, August 04, 2006

LEAGUER ROUNDTABLE ARGUMENT

Okay, here's a topic of conversation...

Are bloggers reporters or public citizens? or something else entirely new?

Consider the case in Connecticut.

Are Lieberman's people morons? Or are the other guy's handlers a bunch of liars?

Should The League be forbidden from donating money (ethically) to campaigns for my favorite candidates because I have some cheap webspace and an opinion?

Do you believe that there is a secret handshake deal between bloggers and politicians? How is that different from political radio hosts like Al Franken and Rush Limbaugh?

Give me feedback, Leaguers. The Rev. Al Sharpton's 2008 campaign needs my $3.00, but I am afraid to send it if that is somehow unethical.
Quick Items

I know there's like three things up from tonight, but...

1) Here's the first trailer I've seen for the upcoming film "Hollywoodland". The film is about the mysterious death of "Adventures of Superman" actor George Reeves.

here

Thanks to Nathan for the link!


2) Austin-based pal JAL has joined in the Alamo Drafthouse's competition. In the spirit of "Snakes on a Plane", the idea is to make a short film which also joins animals with a mode of trasportation in the title. Dig around for JAL's "Kangaroo on a Segway".

There's uhmmm... some non G-Rated words in this video. But go watch it anyway.

Alamo Drafthouse compettiton page here.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

JAMIE'S GREAT LIP GLOSS TASTE TEST!!!

The other night Jamie and I were walking through the Walgreens, and there, upon the rack, were many a flavor of new lipglosses. All of the flavors were crafter from some recognizable artifical flavoring.

Well, The League isn't above sampling some lip gloss, but Jamie got all crazy, the same way she does when she's had a bowl of Sugar Smacks.

The Flavors:

Berry Skittles, Dr. Pepper, Grape Crush, Skittles



the flavors, all lined up

Now you have to forgive me... usually Jamie takes the photos. This time I took the photos and the quality kind of sucks.



Jeff checks out the lip gloss... and starts licking the counter. Nice.

Stupid cat.



Jamie is a bit skeptical of the liquid, brush applied, Skittles-flavored lip gloss.



Jamie takes a sniff...



Hmmm.... the skepticism continues...



application...



Not so good... A little blechy. Maybe wiping artifical Skittles flavoring on your lips isn't the best idea.



Berry, Berry Skittles!



Berry, berry gross...



eeeuugghhhh....



Jamie sad. No more Berry, Berry Skittles.



Grape Crush, eh...?


grapey...



Sold! Like rubbing Grape Crush all over your lips.


Ooooohhhh... Dr. Pepper! The McBride ladies love them some Dr. Pepper. How can some lip gloss stack up?



Mmmmm..?


Dr. Pepper! MUST DRINK!!!! MUST.... DRINK...



No... must apply...



APPLY!!!


APPLY!!! MUST HAVE DR. PEPPER!!!


THE WINNAH!!!!

Jamie loves her some Dr. Pepper! Whooo-HOOO!!!



Somewhere between drinky and glossy, there is Dr. Pepper lip gloss...


There you have it, Leaguers! Jamie's exciting foray into the world of branded, flavored lip gloss. I liked Grape Crush best.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Sorry, team. I had a mind-blowing post planned, but I am very tired. Busy day and I have comics to read.

Jason, Creeper #1 just hit the stands. You might want to seek this one out.
From AICN...

Apparently Tim Burton had planned a Batman musical based on his movie.

Here's a song from the scrubbed project...


And here's an article on the Appalachian State video...

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

It's rare that The League is embarrassed for an entire university...



***update***

Apparently Joey Fatone (of N'Sync) and I have more in common than I thought.

Jump about 1:25 into this video.



I'm a little jealous.
random comments - July

Monday, July 31, 2006

Pop Culture Hoo-Hah

So, Heath Ledger is the new Joker in the upcoming Batman film, "The Dark Knight".

Okay. I don't find Heath Ledger to be an inspired choice.... but I do think he'll be good. When you have Crispin Glover out there, how can you not cast the man?

Well, congrats to Heath. I hope he makes a big bag of money.

There are rumors afloat about DA Harvey Dent appearing in the movie, and maybe Oswald Cobblepot. Could be a lot of fun. I look forward to seeing if they re-engineer the Batmobile.


So... Mel Gibson. Well done.


There's a new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie coming. It's entirely CG. I dunno... how many fights with the Shredder am I willing to pay to see? I guess what's great for Mirage Studios and creepy for me is that TMNT has officially become a generational thing. In theory, The League could have kids now, and I would probably take those kids to see TMNT in the theater, just as Peabo and I once went to see TMNT in the theater. Shut up. You saw it, too. I wonder what my TMNT comics are worth? Probably nothing.


San Diego based Comic-Con International has once again come and gone, and once again, The League was not in attendance. One day I will go. Jamie said even she wants to go, but I am uncertain as to why... and I'll be honest: it would probably good for her to be there so I don't go crazy and buy an entire run of "DC Presents" or "Superman Family" or something.

I think it's kind of neat/sad that people dress up to go to Conventions. I'm always astounded at the photos of folks in fairly expensive recreations of some of their favorite heroes' costumes. Now, I can't imagine myself actually putting in the effort to show up dressed anywhere as, say, Red Tornado. Nor can I imagine getting from the hotel to the convention center without feeling like a total heel, but somehow these folks do it.

I am both curious and horrified by the idea of an open Q&A with comic creators. I know what sort of dweebs populate the shop I hit weekly (me, chief among them), so the endless line of awkward, uncomfortable questioning might be too much for me to bear.


Today, supposedly, marks the 25th anniversary of MTV. That's 25 years of MTV slowly lowering the bar on the music industry while simultaneously increasing every 13-year-olds' sense of entitlement. I do not want, nor watch, any MTV. I am not in their demographic, and really haven't been since I was 20, so I doubt they're losing much sleep over my choice to flip past their programming.

My favorite aspect of MTV is that every two years they promise that either MTV or MTV2 will be getting back to basics and begin showing videos in regular rotation once again. This lasts about two weeks, and then they're back to 12-year old re-runs of Beavis and Butthead when they realize that nobody has the patience to sit and watch a 3 minute video.

I miss the VJ/ video format. The bad hair. The skin-tight pants and the knowledge that THIS video might suck, but they're showing "Thriller" at the half-hour mark. For reasons better left to being dwelt upon by marketing executives, I associate Billy Idol with my early MTV experience. Yes, yes... Michael Jackson, too... but I loved Billy Idol's White Wedding video and the whole slew of videos that came out in that era.


My local theater believes I am 16, and apparently, so does Motorola. My local theater likes to play lots of commercials prior to the previews. Hip, edgy previews with young, sexy people in an urban setting at night just enjoying their ring-tones like all heck. I've not spent any time in NYC, but do young New Yorkers really stand on the street in nice clothes dancing around to their ring tones? Is that really what life in the Big Apple has been reduced to?

Nor do I understand the "ring back tone". Why would I want to listen to 10 seconds of some song while I'm waiting for you? Sometimes just because you can doesn't mean you should.

I am also confused by the commercials for the Scion line of automobiles. The commercials promise an endless bit of customization, but the web-site doesn't actually seem to offer up that anything but the blue and gray Scions you see driving around.

I'm more or less over the advertising at the theaters. It's inevitable and I can't vote with my feet when all of the theaters show ads. But what I do think is that advertisers need to think about two things as they make the transition from TV to theaters:

1) It's one thing when your TV is flickering at you with a cut every 1/3rd second. When the 40 foot light source in front of you is flickering like a strobe, that's a migraine waiting to happen. Some things don't work as well on the big screen.

2) Either make ads your entire range of audience can actually watch or don't bother. I have never seen a more confused audience than the crowd of senior citizens in attendance at "A Prairie Home Companion" when the recent Sprite (or is it 7-Up?) ads ran, with sumos and volkswagens crashing into one another, tiny lemon and lime sprites flitting about and a man with mouths for eyes. All in about 45 seconds.

Yes. Hip. Edgy. And terrifying to the sweet old ladies sitting next to me.


Nor do I feel comfortable seeing ads for "Bod" body spray (which promises no end to the number of the ladies offering you their services, should you use their spray) in the minutes ticking down to the opening of a Harry Potter movie while surrounded by excited little moppets.

At least TV knows who I am and advertises accordingly. Sometimes.
POLL POSITION


You know, you can always click on images to expand them to full size

1 in 3 Loyal Leaguers polled have it in for Star Jones. Understandable as the woman may be of less entertainment value while somehow still managing to fill the airwaves 24/7 than any other human being alive. In fact, we dislike Star more than insurgents, who are only 1/5th the menace of Star Jones.

1 in 5 Leaguers is frustrated with the Astros. What happened to the 'Stros? So mighty last year. This year, a decent team with play-off hopes, but where's the magic? Where's the pizzaz? They need to go back to the orange jerseys. Too much Minute Maid, not enough batting practice.

Ford has bought and commoditized Taylor Hicks before we even had a chance to get sick of what was surely to be an underwhelming, treacly romp through rough-throated pop disappointment. Possibilities? I possibly have already gotten annoyed with the man before he's sold a single record. 2 of you feel the same way.

The one mad scientist in the audience needs to look into some duct tape for his/her cracked foam. Keep reaching for the stars!

Somehow both little dictator Kim Jung Il and perky little TV personality Katie Couric escape unscathed. How does this happen? These people are the two greatest threats to national security. Someone please remind me of when Katie Couric ever worked in news. No. Not a morning show... News. And don't worry Kim Jung Il, lots of guys experience that problem.

And good 'ol Heat Rash makes an appearance. Well done, heat rash! Always a favorite with those experiencing some uncomfortable chafing.

Now, ya'll get to voting in the new poll.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Pirates of the Caribbean 2 and more weekend hi-jinks

Leaguer Michael recently saw POTC2. This was his review in its entirety:

The director had a vision. Roll things in the jungle. Roll them and roll them hard.

The end.


Michael's review is concise and accurate.

When I go to Chipotle, I like to get me a nice burrito. I know even their enormous tortillas can only hold so much volume and mass, but I like to see if I can push it. In my burritos I like chicken and black beans, some cheese and some pico and some rice. Rice is good. But I do not want a burrito completely overflowing with rice just so I can have a properly overstuffed tortilla.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

POTC2 was a lot of rice. Sure, tasty, zippy rice with barnacles, but I kept biting into it wondering why there wasn't enough chicken. And then there was this salsa I wasn't expecting, and it sort of came out of nowhere and seemed kind of pointless.

Now, my burrito analogy only holds up so far, because as you may know if you dine at Chipotle, the burrito is all you really need. So maybe I should have compared the movie to a two-taco lunch. Only that's not really accurate, because the other taco doesn't come out a year from now, and I'm not irritated that my movie/taco will be delayed.

anyway, I guess I give the movie a solid 6.3333 out of 10.

We waited and waited all morning for some realtor to show up. She did not. I have no idea what happened. She had also called us at 9:00 last night to let us know she was coming, so I sort of thought it was an emergency... like these people REALLY wanted to see the house.

The people who were supposed to come between 3:00 and 4:00 came squarely at 3:15. Goody for them. We put the dogs in the car and took them to Petsmart. Lucy picked out a stuffed ring-necked pheasant (state bird of S. Dakota).

I also watched the iTunes-available ($1.99) pilot for Aquaman, done by the same guys who are doing Smallville. They had planned to run it in the fall, call it something like "Mercy Reef" and... I dunno.

I want to know who at the WB decided their trademark would be to put out shows with beautiful people who aren't terribly talented. It just seemed like a missing episode of "Smallville", which, despite my love of all things Super, I gave up on last season. I just had such a "been there, done that" feeling while watching the show. I said to Jamie that I thought that was why the new UPN/WB network had passed on the show, and Jamie, who is wise, said "Are you kidding me? Since when has WB been afraid for everything on their network to look exactly the same? And isn't Smallville their biggest show?"

So, yeah, I have no idea why they didn't pick up Aquaman (or Aqualad, I guess, as he's not yet Aquaman). I just know I was not going to ever watch that show.

I am off to see if I can amuse Melbotis. He is sulky and sleepy.
Once upon a time I was a huge fan of both Space Ghost Coast to Coast and Cartoon Planet.

One could learn a lot from these programs, but one of the most important lessons I ever learned was about that thing that makes the world go 'round. No, not centripetal force. Love.


Brak!

Brak is sort of a space-pirate lion headed thing in a mask. Anyway, he was a regular member of the cast of Cartoon Planet. And his mysterious words were often filled with wisdom.

Brak's Definition of Love

You know, love is a happy time all throughout the universe.
It's when the male part of the species goes to the female part of the species and says: "Hey, do you want to go on a date?" And then she would say: "Why yes, I'd like to go on a date!" -if you're LUCKY!-
And then you go to a restaurant, and she gets something called "a salad." And then he gets a big piece of beef, that he eats.
And that to me ladies and gentlemen, is LOVE.
Kinda makes you cry, doesn't it?


I first heard this definition the year Jamie and I started dating. All I'm saying is: six years of marriage and no police reports yet! Pretty good, Eh? Eh?

I shared this definition with my parents lot too long ago, and they seemed to agree that it sounded pretty accurate, and those guys have been married, like, forever. So take that as you will, but I sort of think Brak speaks a bit of truth.

So for all you single folks out there fretting over how complicated this romance business can be, just try to keep Brak's words of wisdom and encouragement in mind.
SATURDAY NIGHT'S ALL RIGHT FOR BLOGGING

Well, Leaguers, we had ourselves a less than stellar Friday night and Saturday. As some of you may recall Jamie was having some trouble with migraines. Well, she's been on a pretty good preventative. Some might say... too good. She and her neurologist agreed that the preventative had been working (more or less) for so long, they couldn't be sure if the preventative was actually helping or if she wasn't having trouble anymore. So, they decided she should cut back on her preventative to see what was going on.

Long story short, we spent last night at the lovely new hospital about three miles from the house in their all-new emergency room. And, man, it was actually a pretty nice set-up. If you could ignore their "Nurse Call" alarm that sounded more than a little bit like a Disney Princess toy. Over. And over. And over.

Quote of the evening? By a young woman (who was wearing nothing but a bra for some reason) to her nurse: "The doctor said I had an er- er- ruptured ovarian cyst. I didn't even know I HAD an ovarian cyst!"

This somehow beats:
"Were you punched in the throat?"
"I dunno. I think I got hit like a thousand times! Huh huh huh huh huh!"
I have no idea what happened, but I saw the guy, and SOMEBODY beat the tar out of him. He was still managing to keep it sunny side up despite the black eye and whatnot. Good for him.

I've always been confused as to why more hospitals aren't networked or don't maintain a database of patient info at their fingertips. We may have gotten into the ER at 7:30, but Jamie was admitted much later. Well, Leaguers, there's nothing like trying to help a nurse input literally pages of fields when a nurse is a "hunt and peck" typist. Not to mention when the programmers insisted on a hard-coded list of options rather than allowing for blank fields in some key locations. Especially at 2:00 AM. Especially when the nurse is insisting she can't do anything until all the data is loaded. And then the lab tech accidentally fires a vial of Jamie's blood into the air and suddenly there's little drops of Jamie everywhere, inclduing the tech's otherwise sparkling white outfit.

Good times.

Most hospital cafeterias sell some incredibly unhealthy options for both their staff and for patient's families. Cheeseburgers, chicken fingers, etc... Not so at this place. Probably because the budget for this brand-spankin' new (albeit completely empty) cafeteria is much higher than is required to feed the handful of patients and staff actually in the hospital, it appears the cafeteria staff are going all Colonel Kurtz and fancy themselves gourmets. I had a lovely lunch of salmon with a mushroom-butter spread, whipped potatos with a hint of bacon, and fresh steamed asparagus. This meal would have run me $17 at minimum most places. At the hospital it ran me $7.00, with a large drink.

Anyhow, Jamie is doing fine (aside from some oddly high levels of potassium) and she's home again after being admitted over night and through most of the day. At least this hospital provides a half-way decent bed option for folks who want to spend the night. Just no pillows or blankets. Those you must steal from the elderly patients who cannot defend themselves.


In non-hospital related news, the house showed twice today. Which meant I also managed to get locked out. It's a long story, but it involves me, my house key being inside the house and an overzealous realtor. I was waiting to hear back from our realtor, Pat, whom I was hoping would be able to let me in with the key from our lockbox and in order to kill some time I went and wandered around some stores.

I found a little kid's Batman digital camera on sale for $19. It can fit neatly in your pocket, has built in memory, is compatible with decent memory cards, can shoot video and came with photo editing software and video recording software. $19. Some kid in a sweatshop in Thailand just made me a real bargain.


Lucy would like to steal your soul now, please!

Friday, July 28, 2006



I just want to say that I love this country so, so much...
Okay, not only did I end up liking "Who Wants to be a Superhero?", but I'm now watching "Garth Marenghi's Darkplace", and it may be the best show... ever. I'm also kind of pleased to see Mike Mignola's "Amazing Screw On Head" got his own show. Sure, it was just a single comic back around 2000, but I loved the concept back then.

I was pleased to see the very Stan Lee-like challenge put to the heroes on WWTBS?, and I was completely unsurprised to see the comic geek who "knew everything about every comic" got bounced. And I tell you this... my new favorite superheroes? Major Victory and Fat Momma (the two I was sure I would like least). By God, if I ever end up finally flipping my lid and donning tights, I think you'd just see a chubbier version of Major Victory running around. Now THAT'S superheroism, Leaguers.

I apologize for doubting the wisdom of Stan "The Man" Lee.

The show is now alomost over, and I just can't recommend "Garth Marenghi's Darkplace" enough.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Okay, okay... I think I like this "Who Wants to be a Superhero?" show. It's cheesy and kind of bad, but it's okay.

Excelsior!
Who Wants to be a Superhero, Etc...


So Peabo had some heated words for me in the comments section. I put together an astounding reply to which anyone would have to be impressed. Unfortunately, WordPad decided to freak out when I went to save it as a back-up (ha ha, die Windows, die!). So long to an hour of my life.

Suffice it to say, I am brilliantly aware of international politics. So just imagine yourselves stunned at my insightful and irrefutable retort. Peabo (and you all) will just have to live in a whirlpool of mystery, wondering what it was I might have said to show him the error of his ways.

People keep sending me links about Stan Lee's "Who Wants to be a Superhero?"

I have an answer to that question: L.A.-entrenched failed actors looking for exposure.

Stan has been trying to sell this idea since "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" was in it's prime (ie: when Nathan freaked out North America by introducing The Reeg to his monkey, Coco). Thus, the name of Stan's show.

I thought it was a bad idea for a show back then, and I am still not entirely sold on the concept now.

Loyal Leaguers you may all be, but let's face facts: aside from Spider-Man and Batman, you think superheroes are pretty stupid, right?

I mean, if you were at a party and someone asked you to come up with a superhero idea, you'd probably tie a towel around your neck, grab a plunger and a shower cap, and declare yourself "Roto-Rooter Man/ Lady" (no discrimination here), and you'd get a big laugh. I'd laugh, too. That's good stuff.

That's pretty much what the show looks like it's lining up to be. Whether Stan was ever serious about trying to find a property to develop through his Pow! Entertainment company (ie: not Marvel), or whether he was just looking at the dollar signs tied to reality game shows is sort of irrelevant. The producers don't care WHAT Stan does with the winner.

Like American Idol, the opening tone will no doubt be ridiculous as chubby comic-loving dorks squeeze into homemade outfits and go before a panel of "judges" to pitch their concept. There will be a snarky voice-over encouraging us to make fun of the fat guy in the shorts, or the moderately unhinged guy in his Punisher-like commando get-up. A few people will be genuine or funny enough to move on to the actual final round.

The other night I found myself completely unable to watch TLC's new show "The Messengers" (which came on after two hours of shows about somethign called primordial dwarfism. Apparently, gelflings live among us). "The Messengers" is a reality/ game show which features wanna-be motivation speakers going through a harrowing experience, such as being homeless for a few hours, and then shouting at a crowd about how it sucks to be homeless. For a few hours.

I brought this up with Jamie about what an odd concept the show was, and she didn't even blink. "What do you want me to say?" she finally sighed after repeatedly being cued to be impressed, "They'll put anything on TV in gameshow format."

Judging from the list of contestants on the website, "Who Wants to be a Superhero" has gone for the quick-cash-in "wacky" factor. This seems rather obvious.

I would have thought long-term. Go for the hard-core geek audience and create what could be a nichey show about how comic properties are developed and how one can create a character as enduring as Spider-Man. I mean, Jesus. This is Stan "I developed X-Men, The Hulk, Spidey, the Fantastic Four and countless others" Lee we're talking about. If anyone could give a few pointers and career tips as he enjoys his semi-retirement, it's this guy.

This is not to say "WWTBS?" won't be fun and funny. If it works. But you know what's not funny two hours into the party? Roto-Rooter Man.

In comics, very few comedy comics stick, especially funny superhero comics. Even "The Tick" is mostly reprints these days. The original Red Tornado, Forbush Man, 'Mazing Man and Ambush Bug all had a few moments in the sun, but I think you'd be hard pressed to find a hard-core fan base or margin of profitability for any of the characters.

So, once again we're back to 1960-whatever, and Batman is hilarious. For three seasons. Frikkin' "Yes, Dear" has already surpassed that by 3 years.

Yes, I do like the campy side of superheroes. I'm all about movies like "Mystery Men", etc... but even those movies had a story (and "Casanova Frankenstein" is the best villain name ever. Seriously. I will be 90 years old and will still be jealous that I couldn't come up with that name).

I will watch the pilot so I have a common point of reference, but I'll be honest, it's a muted enthusiasm. I see 11 Roto-Rooter Men/ Ladies.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

CAPTAIN OF THE THUNDER AND LIGHTNING

Wow, Leaguers... We had some serious weather last night here in the PHX. BOOM! POW! WHOOOOSH!!!!

We don't get too many days of rain and thunderstorms, but we do get these storms they call "monsoons". Now PHX is a little different from, oh, say, Myanmar. We don't get real monsoons, but we do get these wet fronts that come in from the ocean south of us, and... man... they can be sort of exciting. In the daytime they usually come with a wall of dust several stories high, just sweeping across the desert.

Last night we got the longest, most sustained lightning storm I'd ever seen in Arizona. It was the sort of fun you get in Dallas or occasionally in Austin, but without the fear of a twister coming and tossing you right out of your La-Z-Boy.


SHAZAM!

We do not have children, but we do have pets. And last night, for the first time in a long time, I let Mel sleep in bed with us. He was a little off from the storm, and he's so very happy when we let him sleep on the bed. Unfortunately, Mel is the size of a people. So when I came to bed last night, and Mel was sprawled across the foot of the bed, it was kind of a tough negotiation.

Jeff the Cat does not like rain. Or thunder. or lightning. So he curls up into a tiny ball, finds a spot where the sounds are quietest and just sits, slowly freaking out. He was hiding int he guest bath when I finally retired.

Lucy-Girl had to pee, and as she's seen rain maybe four or five times in her life, she wasn't feeling too confident when I kicked her outside. I felt pretty bad for her, so I went outside to lend her moral support, and man... the wind was kicking our trees around, rain was coming down by the bucket-load and it was like a Frankenstein movie with all the thunder and lightning. Lucy, of course, gav eup on being scared and decided 9:30 in a lightning storm is the perfect time to play fetch, especially with four inches of standing water in the yard.

The good news is she did pee. The bad news is I had to put her to bed still damp and disgruntled that I called the game of fetch short.

Growing up in Houston and Austin and weathering hurricanes and tornadoes, I do remember being scared of thunder and lightning. If Jason was around, like in one of the years we shared a bedroom or if it was during the day, it always helped. Trees might be snapping, the power might be out, but he'd look at me and say "Hey, pretend we're on a ship and we need to secure the ship." And we'd be sailors on a ship, battening hatches and pulling down sails, fearless against the elements. Or, "We're hiding in a cave from the dragon outside," and we were adventurers holed up in secret, snickering to ourselves about the loot we'd stolen from the dragon who was, even now, causing all that calamity just beyond the cave entrance.

And when that didn't work, he'd count it out for me. "Hear that...? That lightning flash and thunder? There was eight seconds between the flash and thunder. That was eight miles away..." Eight miles might as well have been in Paraguay... that was a safe distance.


I don't get as bent out of shape about the weather anymore. But I still think about riding on a wind-tossed ship in the sea, or in the cave hiding from the dragon... and occasionally in my DCU-addled brain I watch the lightning streak across the sky and I think of Captain Marvel going toe-to-toe with some monster hiding among the clouds. With one magic word and a bolt of mystic lightning, Billy Batson transforms from an ordinary boy to the World's Mightiest Mortal, a being of myths and stories. The kind of stories of adventure and adversity Jason used to make up on the spot when the monsters were reaching down out of the clouds.

And that's why these days I look forward to the thunder and lightning.

SHAZAM!!!!

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

I don't want to be a Negative Ned, but does anyone else sort of feel like we're finally getting that third world war in the hopper?

As if our adventuring overseas wasn't enough to ruin your afternoon, and if the excitement in Lebanon wasn't enough to get you to stall for a minute on the news... well... this can't be good
What is Jeff Shoemaker's e-mail address?

Monday, July 24, 2006

Summer of Superman: No Superman 2?

Leaguers, you've failed me. Superman Returns has only raked in $170+ million up to this point. As the movie cost a lot more than that to get made and marketed, it looks like the chances for a sequel are pretty much drawing to a close.

Now, what kind of crazy-assed we world we live in where $170 million isn't enough of a gross to make a profit...? Well, I don't really like to think about that all that much.

What's really upsetting is that X-Men 3, which was, at best, a cookie-cutter action sequel, and at worst... well, let's not get into what I personally felt about the movie, but that movie made something like $230 million.

@#$%ing Brett Ratner, man.

There's no justice.

The American movie going public is a fickle beast, to be sure. I'll never know why Super Returns didn't do better at the box office (ie: why more people didn't want to see Superman in a movie), but I have a suspicion...

Nobody generates bad press like Superman.

I get a lot of e-mails from Loyal Leaguers and beyond any time some pop-culture columnist can't think of anything to write about and decide to jump on the "I am so smart, Superman is no longer relevant" bandwagon. You don't see a lot of articles about why Iron Man or Thor are out of touch with the American zeitgeist. Or a lot of ink spilled over Batman's irrelevancy in our day and age. And with every movie review re: a superhero movie, the reviewers who haven't seen Superman since they were 8 spend a lot of time talking about how Superman is a simple-minded lummox, a boy scout, etc... but Batman and Spider-Man... well, those guys, they're REAL characters.

I think we all sort of killed Superman. At some point we decided Superman was the broadstroke caricature, the two-tone copyright-infringing generic "superhero" popping up in ads for plumbers and carpet millers. He was that silly man-like-object who couldn't be taken seriously while Spider-Man... Spider-Man and Batman both seemed safe. I mean, really, they were just us, right...? And not really... super. We made Kal-El into the alien he'd always tried so hard not to be.

We read the pop culture reviewers rants about how our age had surpassed that of Superman's simple origin (ah, the joy of looking at our forebears and laughing), how Superman is a kid's fantasy, how he's sexually confused, how he's a relic, how he is nothing but the nerd's projection of powerlessness, how he couldn't have sex with Lois without killing her... we analyzed and analyzed until what was left?

Jesus. How well do you really think Wolverine would hold up under such scrutiny?

We've been trained not to trust the character, to believe he's got to be up to something, that nobody could possibly be who he seems to be when he's not one of us.

Superman Returns did receive fairly good reviews. It had amazing special effects and a few stars in the cast. And lets be honest... they marketed the hell out of that movie, maybe too much, but I don't think there was a lot of confusion that Superman Returns was coming out this summer. But that was a media blitz for a movie fighting uphill against a whisper campaign starting sometime back in the mid-80's when the last of the Reeve Superman movies was released to empty theaters.

I'm disappointed, Leaguers. The nay-saying Luthors have won. I don't think I'm getting my second installment.

So if you haven't seen the movie, say you were too busy, and, heck, by the time you DID have time, you thought you would just go see the Pirate movie instead... Or just wait until the DVD... Go check out Superman Returns now, on the big screen while you can.

And if you've already seen it just the once and that was it... Leaguers, go see it again. Heck, go just to see what the little kid has printed on his jammies in the final scene. I noticed it on a second viewing and it was all I could do not to crack up and ruin the mood of the whole theater. Fathers, take your sons.

It's a mighty weight, Leaguers. A weight great enough that even Superman himself can't lift. So put your backs into it.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

WEEKEND ROUNDUP



Howdy, Leaguers!

It's been a whirlwind of a weekend here at League HQ. I got home Friday night and was immediately put to work. Thursday we'd selected a realtor, so as of Friday we knew that Sunday afternoon we'd have Pat here to take pictures of the house, sign some papers and put the house on the market.

So, I pretty much spent all of my time from Friday evening until about 12:00 today organzing my office, packing action figures and statues and doing a lot of general organizing. Now, a lot of that may seem like Ryan wasn't doing anything else in the rest of the house, and if you thought that, well, you're an observant sort of Leaguer.

Jamie's been on cleaning overdrive since I mentioned picking up stakes. She's gotten some spot help from me, but overall, it's been a one-woman job. She deserves some applause.

We've also had to take steps towards "depersonalizing" the house. So a lot of our personal effects have had to get put away so folks who come in can visiualize themselves in your space. Curiously, Pat the Realtor didn't seem to worry too much about The Fortress. She was mostly concerned kids would walk out with figures or pull them off the shelves. So, I have to pack them away until we sell and move.

Poor little Supermans all put away in the dark.

Jamie is obviously very concerned that Pat the Realtor suggested putting Mel and Lucy in the car and driving off with them every time people come to the house. Mel and Lucy are both sweet dogs, but Lucy believes jumping at you is completely acceptable while Mel will cry and cry if you pull him away from the peoples. Ugh.

Our prep meant my neglected little corner of the world needed a lot of help. However, I did get a chance to hang out in The Fortress and watch 2 discs of my "Adventures of Superman Seasons 3 & 4" collection.

All of that Superman wasn't quite enough, so we decided to go see "Superman Returns" again. Honestly, I think I liked the movie even better the second time around. There's a lot going on in that movie, and the first time I think I was so overwhelmed with the "wow" factor of the film that I missed some of the little things and character bits.

Jim D. also contributed to the high quality Supermanness of the weekend by sending along a box of back-issues he'd picked up for me. Inside were some issues of DC COmics Presents (a Superman team-up book) and issues of "Jimmy Olsen". Yes, Jimmy Olsen used to have his very own title. Yes, that goofy photographer from the movies.

I like Jimmy. I'm a fan. It's a fun idea, this "Superman's Pal" thing. It sounds like a back-up feature, but at one point Jimmy Olsen sold a heck of a lot of comics every month.

Anyhow, it's late. Hope your weekend was super, too.

Friday, July 21, 2006

ASLEEP IN THE SEA @ BEERLAND IN AUSTIN

hey, Tempe-based Asleep in the Sea will be playing at Beerland on Saturday night. Tom Filardo is my student worker. Go see his damn band.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

I am a packrat.



I have a hard time throwing things away. I have a great time accumulating baubles and hoo-hahs.

When it comes to moving, this is not a welcome trait. When you move, you pay by an estimate of the weight the truck will carry. I have somewhere in the neighborhood of 25-30 long boxes of comics. According to comicpriceguide.com, I have somewhere near 5,200 comics. This doesn't include my graphic novel collection. Or action figures. Or signed Noel Neill photos. Or Superman and Batman related videos. And my super cool statues, props, etc...

A lot of people are surprised we aren't planning to move into a rental place until we find a house. "Put it in storage" they keep telling me.

No.

It's not that I can't bear to think of my comics living in Public Storage for a year or two. Rather, I'm much more concerned that if we rented, then bought a place and moved again, it would mean I would have to move all of this junk twice. That's a lot of heavy lifting without the help of the surly moving guys who we plan to hire.

Why surly? I have learned in my moves that the moving guys will hate me for moving what is essentially boxes and boxes of paper. Paper is heavy, Leaguers. Maybe not "box of lead" heavy, but it's almost water heavy. There's few things that runs a chill up my spine more than the look of desperation rolling over the face of the movers when they see my comics.

"Is that all books?"
"Comics."
"Comic... books?"
"Uhmmm... yes."

As much as they don't want to have to lift all that weight, I don't want for them to manhandle those boxes of precious, precious comics. Or my toys. Or, you know, my amazing statues.

Such is the fate of the mover who takes on our house. Sure, we're not exactly moving the Library at Alexandria, but I guess most people don't intentionally keep crates of paper around. Or books.

Dear Mr. Mover,

Please love my comics, too.

We met with our final realtor last night. The bottom line is that we should have sold last Spring if we wanted to make the big bucks. Now it's going to be a game of figuring out how to still make money, but price the house low enough that it can move faster than the other houses in our neighborhood. (our neighborhood has a total of 6 models, I believe, with 2 or 3 around our same square footage). So if we were to undercut everybody else, we might move our house a lot faster. I feel okay about that as I think all we're doing is beating everyone else already on the market to an inevitable sales point. On the other hand, we might also drive down the price of every house in our neighborhood.

Well, maybe they should have thought of that before they didn't talk to us for the past four years. Screw you, neighbors!

I just want to sell and go. Is that so wrong?

My boss posted my position yesterday. I was curious as to how the job would read, and while I would have flip-flopped the order of the responsibilities listed, I thought they came up with a surprisingly accurate description of what I do. Sort of. They didn't include the "Shadow Puppet Theatre" I like to do when the projector is turned on in the conference room.

The description also does not include that in April I was named the Assistant Fire Chief for my office. No, really. If our Admin Assistant is somehow unable to perform her Fire Chief duties, I am next on tap to usher my co-workers out of the building. Who shall convince the Director to get off the phone when the alarm goes off if not I? Because that happened back in February during an actual fire. Guy wouldn't get off the phone and there were flames in the elevator shaft. That, Leaguers, is dedication.

Jim D. has suggested I write a novel or meoir or something regarding the move. I have mixed feelings on this as I sincerely hope that nothing exciting enough to warrant a novel will happen during my move. Is it too much to hope for a smooth transition?
Hey, your lifestyle isn't as fabulous as it should be. No, seriously, trust me. It's not.

But you, yes, YOU can live la vida loca every day with items from the League of Melbotis Store!

Here's Loyal Leaguer Nathan Cone sporting his LoM threads and sipping his usual morning mix of wood grain alcohol and 409 from a niftier-than-all-heck LoM coffee mug.


See, Nathan's life is now way, way better.

So head on down to the LoM shop to see all the neat stuff you can get. it's not just League approved, it's League produced.

Shop Now!!!

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Mister Miracle

I talk a lot about Superman here at LoM, but as Jamie will roll her eyes and tell you, my interests go far beyond just The Man of Steel.

For some reason I've never been able to put a finger on, I dig Mister Miracle.

Mr. Miracle's story goes a little something like this:

Across a dimensional barrier and/ or in deep space, there are two planets constantly at war with one another: Apokolips, ruled by Darkseid, a despot who defies even the darkest definitions of cruelty and evil*, and New Genesis (capital, floating city: Supertown), a peaceful, green world which is inhabited by the New Gods and ruled by the benevolent hand of Highfather.

It doesn't take a master reader to decipher that Apokolips is where all the bad cosmic guys hang out and New Genesis is home to the celestial beings in white hats. It probably also won't come as a suprise that the stories surrounding the characters of what is called "Kirby's Fourth World" are usually broad in scope, but the currents always seem to run deeper than the slug fests you found in other comics.

One of the many characters which spun off from Kirby's Fourth World is Scott Free, aka: Mister Miracle. The son of Highfather, raised in the Armaghetto's of Apokolips, Scott Free dreamed of only one thing: escape.

The antithesis of the vision Darkseid has of crushing and subjugating the universe, Scott Free was the only being ever to escape from Darkseid's twisted planet. He came to Earth where he now uses his tremendous talent to entertain as showman, Mister Miracle, but also as a proud member of the JLA.

Mister Miracle is (and, again, I suggest you read his back story to find out why) THE WORLD'S GREATEST ESCAPE ARTIST!!!

You can read about Mister Miracle here (and I suggest you do. He has one of the coolest back stories in comicdom). And here (this one is better than Wikipedia's entry).



Today I feel like Mr. Miracle. Almost, but not quite. I feel like Mr. Miracle in this picture, anyway. I've voluntarily strapped myself onto a roaring rocket, bound for certain destruction, and even if I do get free of the rocket I'll be entering the stratosphere, bound for a free fall.

Today I am Mr. Miracle.

I hope.

See him strapped to that rocket, looking maybe a little stressed, but not overly concerned?

You know why?

He's Mister Miracle. He's survived the Orphanage of Granny Goodness, he's survived the firepits of Apokolips and he broke free of the world which stands outside space and time, existing to do nothing more than break the will of its denizens. In five seconds Scott will produce his multi-cube from his glove-pocket, shoot a laser into the tumbler of his manacles, do the same for his leg locks, leap clear of the rocket's flame and then float to freedom on his cape, which will have billowed out to become a parachute.

I never had any firepits or Granny Goodness breathing down my neck. The Admiral never swapped me off to his nemesis to resolve some ancient dispute. But today I want to be Mr. Miracle. I want to know that I'm going to jump free and clear in this whole contraption I've set for myself, touching down on solid earth with a wink and a nod to my faithful wife.

Today it's all about the complexity of the escape, but if Mister Miracle can make it fun, so can I. Right? Maybe?

As much as Orion, the Forever People and the New Gods always seemed so straight forward (well, maybe not The Forever People), Mister Miracle wasn't out to fight anybody outright. Instead, he was out to escape the unescapable, defy the undefiable.

Years later, Michael Chabon would refine the idea and produce the greatest superhero the world had never seen in The Escapist, the fictional comic character of his novel The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay.

And maybe I read too much of Chabon onto Mister Miracle. I'm not sure. It's possible Kirby never meant for Mister Miracle to be a walking allegory, but with Kirby, who the heck knows...?
All I know is that as surely as Scott Free dreamed and dreamed of breaking loose of the chains of Apokolips, I mean to shake off the dust of this one horse desert town. And if he can do it, then maybe I can do it. Just like Steven can do it. And maybe you can, too.

So for the next few months, if you see me donning a lot of red, yellow and green and occasionally trying to get put in a lock-box so some burly men can toss me over the rail of a ship, don't you worry about me. I'm just seeing exactly how you do this escaping thing.


*Readers of LoM may be interested to know Darkseid and Apokolips appeared in comics just a few years prior to Lucas coming up with Darth Vader and the Death Star. Lucas famously perused comics while coming up with his story. I've heard Kirby considered suing, but Lucas had tweaked the concepts enough that Kirby knew the passing similarities wouldn't hold up in court.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Sunday night we headed over to some friends' house for a sort-of "Well, we're leaving" chat and dinner. It's always been nice hanging with Ryan and Trisha, but two years ago they had a kid, and, up to this point, I had no idea that the reason people have kids is for the free entertainment.

Isaac is almost two. He's a wee man who likes to use his head as the base of a tripod before performing some awesome somersaults. He's mostly into Elmo and the Wiggles these days, but he's also into loose change and whatever chips he can get his mits on. He seems smarter than the average bear, which should surprise nobody whose ever met his folks. He's got somethign going on with his legs, and he needs braces right now, but he's two and he's like a combustible ball of energy, so what does he care about the braces? Isaac's still in motion.

As proof positive that Ryan N. is a quality dad, he's found a ceiling fan for Isaac's room that is the propellor of an F-4U Corsair, with the iamge of the Corsair on the ceiling. I am now jealous of a two year-old. Jamie will never let me put up that sort of fan in the bedroom.

We spoke with our first realtor on Sunday, and I liked her a lot. Having never sold a house before, it's hard to tell if someone is ripping you off or telling you things that you want to hear before they put the screws to you. We're taking a pass on a realtor we found online and we're talkign with a recommended realtor on Thursday.

Must get house on market. Must sell house.

I have 330 hours of vacation built up. Apparently, after speaking with higher powers this morning, most of that vacay will disappear into a howling void, just like my late 20's. I'll get something like a month paid out, but that's 160 of my 330 hours. I would have preferred a big old bag of gold coin, but what are you gonna do? My boss is trying to be cool about it and help me out.

As mentioned, I have no job lined up awaiting me in Austin. It would be nice were things otherwise, but they aren't. Fortunately. friends and Leaguers have already volunteered to come to my aid.

Not having a job lined up is not unknown to me. When I graduated I went months without full-time work. When I arrived in Phoenix, I had nothing in particular lined up. So finding out who will take me on becomes a waiting game. I don't mind interviewing. I guess I feel like I'm interviewing my potential empoyer to see if this would be, in fact, a good fit for me as well. If they feel I should be coming in grovelling, well, maybe me and that work place aren't going to get along too well.

My co-worker Juli asks me about once every six months: If money were no object, what would you do for a living?

The idea of the thought exercise is that you're supposed to come to some realization of your true calling, give up your work-a-day job and go chase that dream, whether it's driving a shrimp boat or auditioning for community theater. I have never, not once, come up with an answer to that question. It's too huge. And I think I'm painfully aware that aside from being Grand Sultan, every job is going to have it's drawbacks. And even Sultan's need a food taster to keep them from being poisoned by scheming underlings.

Two years after college, my parents and I were having a similar conversation, and at the time I responded that "I would like to do nothing. I would like to sleep late and stay up late and read. And watch TV. Probably a lot of Discovery Channel. And maybe, I dunno, go to Barton Springs when the weather was nice." Because at the time, that's what I wanted to do. My parents went into some sort of tizzy, my mother cursing my inherent sloth, my father lecturing me about the value of a good work ethic. But I think even I missed my point. It's not that I literally would be happy not working, or being a bum who lives somewhere near Zilker. I jist want to be able to do those things once in a while. And back then, I wasn't getting to do them.

I graduated with an RTF degree and it's not that I didn't want to work on films, it was that I didn't want to work on bad films. And dumb commercials. And corporate in-house birthday videos celebrating some poor schleb who would probably be fired when the stock took a downturn next quarter, anyway.

So I went to work for the state, figured I get a little money in my pocket and health insurance. And I really, really dug my office. My job was sort of goofy and it was okay. But I liked my co-workers and I liked what we did.

Since then, even with a new job in a different city, the work has been good to me, and I think I've been good to it. I think I'm actually effective at my job, and I think I make things run fairly smoothly.

So what do I want to do with my life? My options are open, Leaguers. I'm an open minded guy. I wish I could say "I am a CPA with five years' experience and am worth six-figures." But I'm not.

So what do I want to do with my life? I still want to sleep late on Saturdays and stay up late reading comics. I still want to watch Discovery Channel and hit the pool when it gets hot out.

I want to make things that I don't find embarassing. I want to be a part of a team of people who actually care about one another and the health of the office. I want to be a part of a team where people like what they're doing and who they're doing it for. I'm flexible. I'm happy as long as I'm busy.

I want to be able to laugh at the water cooler and wear jeans to work when I feel like it. And for nobody to worry about my Superman mouse-pad or my Batman clock.

I dunno. It's going to be fun. I'm looking forward to seeing what's out there. I feel like there's a world of opportunity. Hopefully nobody with better qualifications is going to beat me to the punch.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Nothing will make you believe in the relativity of time like a little bit of a travel. Was it only Thursday afternoon that I left the desert? Was it yesterday afternoon that I wound up at my old office, last night for the service? Then finally eating something? (and why doesn't it occur to me to eat when I'm left to my own devices?)

I was in Austin by Thursday night. Peabo and I dropped my bags, said goodnight to Adriana and hopped over to Kerbey Lane on S. Lamar. The people are all so young inside. You forget out here amongst the families and a-dults that there's this other thing going on. The service is no better at Kerbey Lane now than in 1996 or whenever it was I first hit that location. Peabo, though, has landed himself a beautiful home in my neighborhood of neighborhoods. I'm afraid to ask how he swung that.

He's got a little schnauzer, Homer, and I'd like to say that Homer and I really took to each other, but I sort of get the feeling Homer is a dog who is going to love anybody willing to play with him (not that he's want for attention).

Friday morning was the graveside service. The Memorial Park is lovely in that all-encompassing-green way that the older neighborhoods in Austin tend to be. It's oaks and spanish moss.

Afterward I stopped by Jason's house and then the Wilson's for a few minutes. Then off to my old office on campus at UT where time seems to simultaneously never progress and lurch forward in hops and leaps. They've painted the walls. People have left, people have joined. New furniture. New hardware. New technology. No small amount of jealousy, there, given what they're playing with.

Ran back to Jason's, met up with my parents, Sue and Jason. In separate cars we headed over to the Umlauf Sculpture Garden. And people showed up. Lots of people. Reedo, Larry Lee, a sea of attorneys. I'm still hesitating to guess how many folks.

Afterward, off to Threadgill's with the folks and Sue. Then back to Peabo's where we stayed up until 1:30 AM or so. I miss that with Peabo. If ever a man got my mental wheels spinning, it was that guy. We've been staying up too late since 6th grade, I think.

This morning I was up and out the door before Peabo & Family were up. Wagner picked me up, we hit Maudie's for breakfast, floated around the WestGate area for a while not wishing to wake the guys at Jason's house whom Greg informed us had made a night of it last night, and stayed up entirely too late.

Said my adios to Wagner, met up with the family, had some lunch at Casa G's (I know, I know...) hit the airport. My flight was delayed, which was problematic. You see, last night at 10:00 or so, for some reason The Admiral mentioned that this evening was the 15th. For which I had Lyle Lovett tickets and had completely forgotten.

Long story short, mother nature and ineptitude of both Southwest Airlines and the Las Vegas airport (which had sent my craft) conspired to prevent me from making it home in time. I missed the darn show. Sorry, Lyle.

Now, here was an odd bit about the weekend...

All these folks who have been nothing but a name or some folks I had only heard about in passing... two things.

There's nothing like meeting someone you've never met before and them taking a look at you and saying "I saw you eating Cap'n Crunch!" Or, "We saw you and your brother drinking Jones Soda!" I finally met some folks I'd corresponded with only through this oddity we call the internet. Hello, Diva.

But, but, but... it's not just the League, thank you, Steanso... Over at Adventures of Steanso, my brother dearest occasionally refers to me as "Roundball". The name has no meaning, and was used briefly in reference to a book I read in 3rd grade called, I believe, "Anastasia Krupnick." Anyway, apparently Steanso's Austin based-pals believe my name to be "Roundball". Just as they believe my parents' names to be "The Admiral and KareBear".

Now I mention this as I am now not sure what the future holds.

Jamie and I have decided that in very short order we are placing our house on the market and we're moving back to Austin. If any of you have a job you would like to give me (I require a 6-figure salary, four weeks of vacation, an expense account and a company car), I'm game.

We plan to be back in town before ACL Fest and just as the summer heat is scheduled to break. I want to be back in Austin for a lovely Austin fall, all football games and bright sun and those wonderful Northers blowing through once in a while to remind you that winter will be along shortly.

This has been a surprisingly easy decision, but it's turning into the monumental task that I said it would. But remember what I said back then? No limits. This is the right thing to do, and if I was ever unsure of my choice, the past forty-eight hours has been frought with a thousand whisperings telling me that it's time to get on with it.

So I'm a'coming, Austin, Texas. Me and the whole, darn League of Melbotis. No limits.

So when I get back, and I'm back in my home town, do I have to worry about attorneys on the street leaning out their car windows and shouting "Roundball's back in town!"?

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Headed for Austin

I'm taking a flight to Austin this evening and will be staying with Peabo and his lovely wife, Adriana. Peabo is finally paying me back for the 1993/94 era loaned car experiment wherein I let him drive my totally rad Mitsubishi Eclipse on a semi-regular basis. While he's out defending the law on Friday, I'll be free to roam Austin.

What can you say about the circumstances of the trip that hasn't already been said?

It sounds like Mandy has picked a beautiful location for the memorial. My memories of the Umlauf Sculpture Garden consist largely of hauling video equipment around and being asked to chase birds away while we recorded. This, of course, meant I ran up and down a creek bed trying to intimidate grackels into leaving. Five years of college, Leaguers. Five years of college.

Anyhow, please consider the fund Mandy has set up in Jeff's honor.

Jason says:

In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to a memorial fund in Jeff's honor. Make donations to the Jeff Wilson Memorial Account, care of Amanda Wilson, at 1504 West Avenue, Austin, TX, 78701. Donations will contribute to some form of charity, but Mandy is still working on deciding exactly how they will be used.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

An update on Jeff Wilson's Memorial Service

and a few other details can be found at Jason's blog.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

I'd like to thank the folks who sent e-mails over the past few days and then yesterday following Jeff's passing.

If you get an opportunity, I'd like for you to do the same for Jason.

If you've been following Jason's blog, like me, you might have been truly amazed by the outpouring of admiration and adoration for Jeff and Mandy.

I'm going to try to be brief this evening, but I want to point out how clearly loved Jeff was by so many people. This list includes folks from high school, college, family friends, co-workers, and even folks who didn't know Jeff outside of the internet, all of whom have taken a moment to remember him.

At Jason's site, more than 30 people have logged in to leave a message.

On the Statesman's site, I lost count of how many folks had left a message, but it goes on for four pages.

Some Leaguers have posted, too.

Sugar and Splice

CBGblog

Maxwell of Cowgirl Funk

Natalie

Distorted Veracity

The broadcast news in Austin has also covered Jeff's story.

KXAN

KVUE


Thanks to Jim for pulling some links for me on this one.

I didn't meet Jeff until shortly before leaving Austin for Phoenix, and thus I'd only see him when I'd pop into town for a few days. He and Jason literally live across the street from one another, and I sort of thought they really needed to build a bridge across the street or some sort of point-to-point pneumatic tube as it occasionally felt like one shared space.

Like a lot of you, I know Jeff largely through e-mail and blogs, and his contributions to Nanostalgia.

and, like a lot of you, I'm going to miss him, too.

We should all be so lucky as to have so many people ready to speak as kindly on our behalf.

Monday, July 10, 2006

As many of you know, Jeff Wilson has been hospitalized since the evening of July 3rd. It is my understanding that as of today, Jeff has passed.



Jamie and I wish to express our heartfelt sympathies to Jeff's family and his many friends who will all be so profoundly touched by this tremendous loss.

God bless you and keep you, Jeff. We will all miss you so very, very much.





The Austin American Statesman has posted a short article.

here.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

God bless my brother for being the guy he is. I don't know how many of you have been following his blog over the past few days, but he's been up at the hospital in Austin standing vigil with Jeff Wilson's family as Jeff continues to fight for his life.

I've done my fair stints in a hospital, but nothing, absolutely nothing, is like what he and the Wilsons have been going through. I love that guy, and I wish I knew what I could do to help him out.

Sorry, ya'll, but right now Jeff, Mandy and Jason are on my mind quite a bit.

What else...?

Did anyone else watch the two final World Cup games? Nerve wracking. Absolutely nerve-wracking. Both games. Well, Germany won pretty decisively, but if you watched the game... Heck of a game. Germany deserved their win, especially at home. I was rooting for Italy in the Italy/ France final, mostly because France had the 1998 Cup and I've come to really like Italy's goalie over the course of the tournament.

I have no explanation for Zidane's headbutt. I confess, it was kind of awesome, but I was left with a huge questionmark floating over my head. No matter how angry I've ever become, it has never occured to me to hit someone with my head. Who does that?

Went and saw "The Devil Wears Prada" today rather than brave the maddening crowds in attendance to see Pirates. "The Devil Wears Prada" is not a movie for fashion-impaired dudes, like myself. Honestly, my RTF Narrative Strategies training was going into the red zone for a huge chunk of the movie, and I went into "dissect the movie" mode for the first hour, eventually wearing myself out and just giving up.

The movie is the sort of morality play that's possibly worth seeing for folks ages 18-24, but once you've actually gotten that first job and realized "my boss is an autocrat, and what I think is largely irrelevant", a lot of the movie just doesn't have much of a lesson to share (and it most certainly exists to share exactly that lesson). I had a laundry list of issues with the film, but I won't go into that here.

I will say I never thought the movie did a good job of ever explaining why anybody should care about fashion, and I think that was a major failure of the film. Yes, they explain how fashion eventually trickles down to stores like "Fashion Bug", but it mostly told me what I already know about why the stuff on the rack is there. They never made it sound any less silly than I always suspected the process to be. The rest is largely like most 80's "it's not all about professional success" movies where Michael J. Fox realized financial wealth isn't worth it when you hurt the ones who care about you.

That said, both Streep and Anne Hathaway were okay, although I think Anne Hathaway was getting away with just being pretty an awful lot, but, hey... that's what the movie celebrates even when it's decrying all that.

Anyway, enough.

Ya'll keep Jeff in your thoughts and prayers. And Jason, too.
Catching up with Comics

Land's sake, Leaguers... It has been a while since I went all straight up comic review on you.

Here's some stuff I've been reading.

The All-New Atom #1: Here's an idea. How about a superhero who doesn't start his career as a dorky teenager? Well, our hero in question IS a bookworm, but in this case, it's all too appropriate for the hero to be of the pocket protector set. After all, you can't be The Atom without being one of the world's top physicists.

Dr. Ryan Choi takes on Ray (The Atom) Palmer's job in Ivy Town following his disappearance at the end of Identity Crisis. A world class genius among world class geniuses, Ryan is quick to discover the source of The Atom's power as well as some of the perils of shrinking at will.

Gail Simone is on writing chores, following an outline by Grant Morrison, working her usual magic with popping dialogue and natural characterization. She sets up a supporting cast in an organic fashion, introducing the characters as Ryan arrives on campus.

The Atom is now officially a legacy character, from Al Pratt, to Ray Palmer and now to Ryan Choi (you can fit Atom Smasher/ Nuklon in there however you please), and Gail creates an interesting dynamic between Ray Palmer and Ryan. Ray is played up as the distant mentor (Ryan is from Hong Kong and corresponded via letter and e-mail), and, at some point, I'm sure Ray's fate will play out in the title.

John Byrne has managed to utilize the internet to create a not-too-popular image of himself as a cranky curmudgeon. It would be unfortunate to skip this title simply because of Byrne's personal views and inability to step away from the keyboard. His pencils are in great form, and the inking on the book (Trevor Scott) is better than what I recall seeing in either JLA or Action Comics.


I've never really understood why The Atom's costume just appears whenever he shrinks.

The threat established in this comic is especially suited for The Atom, and I'd be fibbing if I wasn't a little concerned how The Atom can continue to find a list of villains which meet his unique talents. I always liked Ray as a utility player in the JLA comics, as both the scientific genius and sub-atomic hero. DC has done it's usual magic of coming up with some crazy ways Ray could utilize his powers, which, no doubt, will also appear in the new comics.

Anyhoo, of the new DC titles, this was probably the strongest first issue.


Blue Beetle #4: This one came out last week, but I'm playing catch-up.

A lot of ball's are in motion already with issue #4. I'm not necessarily on the fence with this book. I'm enjoying it and plan to continue to pick it up. BUT... the book constantly rides the line between yet another book about a teenager figuring out how to be a hero with powers thrust upon him (ie Spider-Man) and something truly unique.

Giffen seems to take one step back into familiar territory with every two steps forward in crafting a title which should be a "must read". Giffen's take on the Blue Beetle's powers, the environment of OYL, Jaime's family all are a new thing, and those moments are when the book shines. However, the villains are too mysterious for their own good, falling right down the slippery slope thanks to their ill-defined "magical" ties. To keep Jaime from sitting around talking to himself, Giffen has given him two best-pals, the over achiever and the goof, creating holy trinity of comics since the 80's. Unfortunately, there's nothing there other than the place-holder status we've seen in dozens of comics prior to Blue Beetle.

I guess my frustration comes from having followed Firestorm for the past two years as writer after writer has tried to make the premise work, the doofus best friend, the straight-from-central-casting "angry father", etc... all work. But it feels like for two years, I've been holding my breath, waiting to see the title cut loose. Instead, we've seen iteration after iteration not really work.

There's a lot to like in Blue Beetle, but Giffen needs to take a sharp left turn when he starts heading into the territory of the familiar and see what it takes to define the new Blue Beetle as the true next generation of superheroes.


Action Comics #840: Wow. Johns and Busiek wrap up the OYL run with a bang.

Very much looking forward to Superman titles as Busiek and Johns continue on with the Superman series.


Crisis Aftermath: The Spectre #2: I'd read a review in which this issue was described as "more whining" before I had a chance to read the issue. That reviewer is looking for ass-kicking action, I guess, and missed the point of this mini-series.

For almost as long as Superman has been zipping around in 4-color comics, Jerry Siegel has has another creation, The Spectre, dispensing horrific justice upon the wicked. This series is asking good questions, attempting to tackle the inherent illogic of The Spectre's mission.

I'm not sure how long the Cris Allen version of The Spectre will continue, and I can't say I'm nuts about the "goatee'd" Spectre, but occasionally DC needs to take a few steps back and examine some of their time-honored ideas just to make sure they still work. In two issues this series has done more in a far more satisfying manner than the Hal Jordan-Spectre series for the 8 issues or so I followed it.

Detective Comics #821: Paul Dini and JH Williams take over the title in the post-OYL era. Paul Dini's name may ring a few bells as a writer/ producer on "Batman: The Animated Series" and as a writer on ABC's "Lost". JH Williams was responsible for the genre-defying art work on Alan Moore's "Promethea".

Dini is doing what he did best on the animated series. He's telling single story issues using a timeless version of Bruce Wayne/ Batman, including Robin where necessary. This first issue is good, solid work, and a great point for new readers to start picking up Batman comics again.


Supergirl #7: My GOD, this title would be a nightmare for anyone without a bachelor's degree in DC History. You know, I'm giving this comic about three more months, and then... well, they've got three more months to get this title in line. I have no idea where they're going, which is part of why I'm sticking with the comic. If it were not for the solicits for September, I'd have given up already.

So far, DC has managed to turn out one serious mess of a character launch. My advice to DC: scrap this Kara Zor-El. I don't care how you do it. The original pollyanna in a mini-skirt worked. Somehow in 7 issues you've managed to give us a character ten times as messy as the old Mae/ Matrix/ Linda Danvers/ Earth Angel car-wreck.

While Ian Churchill's art on this title is gorgeous, that's about all I can say that's positive about the comic to this point.