Here I am in London, at Sabre's luxurious offices in Central Hounslow. Day of meetings and I am ready to get out and explore. Two days of leisure ahead: Libby and the kids are here so I imagine we will do all of the usual stuff: taunt the guards at Buckingham Palace, go see David Blaine hanging from a crane in a plastic box at the Tower Bridge...you know, the usual touristy stuff.
I love London. Love the buzz of the tube station at 7:30 on a workday. Love the civility of it all.
In the process of reading C.S. Lewis Mere Christianity for the first time. Wow. What an amazing mind. The simplicity and lucidity of his thoughts on why God had to become man and die to redeem us actually brought me to tears.
More to post later...Cheers for now.
Thursday, September 25, 2003
Thursday, September 18, 2003
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
truth is stranger than fiction.
here's the skinny on surviving nugent.
He’s had the “Cat Scratch Fever,” cured it with a little “Wango Tango,” then retreated to his own personal frontier haven deep in the Michigan woods. He lives off the land and hunts its big game to nourish his own family. Now, seven unsuspecting souls have accepted an invitation to enter and survive his all-terrain universe for cash and prizes.
Surviving Nugent is a two-hour reality-based event that challenges not only the intestinal fortitude of the seven contestants, but also the image of the outspoken rock legend that many people believe is the real Nugent. The magic seven include a vegan, a gay man, a New Yorker who’s not afraid to do a little kissing up, a saucy sex kitten who’s not ashamed to use all her assets to get ahead, and a Michigan native who is sure smelling sweet will bring him success.
Fifty thousand dollars and tempting prizes lay at the end of the rainbow, but before they reach that pot of gold they must get past the “Motor City Madman.” If the seven contestants pass his muster, they stay and move onto the next challenge. If they don’t, the arrow head snaps and they are sent packing.
There are no rules in Ted’s game. No rhyme or reason to his madness. Each contestant must simply survive Ted Nugent.
The contestants are:
Tila – A model
Darren – A DJ
Jack – A talent manager
Sarah – A campaign coordinator
Kara – A Jersey Girl
Joe – A student
Adam - A student
here's the skinny on surviving nugent.
He’s had the “Cat Scratch Fever,” cured it with a little “Wango Tango,” then retreated to his own personal frontier haven deep in the Michigan woods. He lives off the land and hunts its big game to nourish his own family. Now, seven unsuspecting souls have accepted an invitation to enter and survive his all-terrain universe for cash and prizes.
Surviving Nugent is a two-hour reality-based event that challenges not only the intestinal fortitude of the seven contestants, but also the image of the outspoken rock legend that many people believe is the real Nugent. The magic seven include a vegan, a gay man, a New Yorker who’s not afraid to do a little kissing up, a saucy sex kitten who’s not ashamed to use all her assets to get ahead, and a Michigan native who is sure smelling sweet will bring him success.
Fifty thousand dollars and tempting prizes lay at the end of the rainbow, but before they reach that pot of gold they must get past the “Motor City Madman.” If the seven contestants pass his muster, they stay and move onto the next challenge. If they don’t, the arrow head snaps and they are sent packing.
There are no rules in Ted’s game. No rhyme or reason to his madness. Each contestant must simply survive Ted Nugent.
The contestants are:
Tila – A model
Darren – A DJ
Jack – A talent manager
Sarah – A campaign coordinator
Kara – A Jersey Girl
Joe – A student
Adam - A student
Tuesday, September 16, 2003
Sunday, September 14, 2003
Friday, September 12, 2003
Great story...I think you caught more than fireflies.
Conjures up a very vague memory of my early childhood with a friend that my mother did not exactly approve of named Doug. At the age of 6, Doug was without question the most destructive person I had ever met, a distinction that may hold true 30 years later.
There was a baseball field just 2 doors down from our house in Old Hickory (where my Dad parked the Vomit) that provided an excellent hunting ground for fireflies, or "lightning bugs" as we called them. While most kids would run around and try to catch the fireflies, maybe even put them in a jar, Doug always had a different, less docile angle.
I remember one night in particular when Doug realized that the netting in a badminton racquet (how hilarious to think that badminton racquets even existed on Debow Street in Old Hickory) was tight enough to hit a firefly 9 times out of ten (previous attempts with wiffle bats had proven unfruitful). Doug showed me this and I remember being amazed as he swung the racquet and the unfortunate firefly left a trail of "fire" in the wake of his low Earth orbit. We ran around for hours stalking these peaceful creatures and then painting the darkness with their luminous viscera.
Those were the best nights of childhood. Hot and humid with the sound of cicadas all around. Only two doors from home, but really off on your own. With a good friend doing something mildly dangerous and destructive. As we get older we spend our lives trying to re-capture those moments. Unfortunately, they can be as elusive as...fireflies.
Conjures up a very vague memory of my early childhood with a friend that my mother did not exactly approve of named Doug. At the age of 6, Doug was without question the most destructive person I had ever met, a distinction that may hold true 30 years later.
There was a baseball field just 2 doors down from our house in Old Hickory (where my Dad parked the Vomit) that provided an excellent hunting ground for fireflies, or "lightning bugs" as we called them. While most kids would run around and try to catch the fireflies, maybe even put them in a jar, Doug always had a different, less docile angle.
I remember one night in particular when Doug realized that the netting in a badminton racquet (how hilarious to think that badminton racquets even existed on Debow Street in Old Hickory) was tight enough to hit a firefly 9 times out of ten (previous attempts with wiffle bats had proven unfruitful). Doug showed me this and I remember being amazed as he swung the racquet and the unfortunate firefly left a trail of "fire" in the wake of his low Earth orbit. We ran around for hours stalking these peaceful creatures and then painting the darkness with their luminous viscera.
Those were the best nights of childhood. Hot and humid with the sound of cicadas all around. Only two doors from home, but really off on your own. With a good friend doing something mildly dangerous and destructive. As we get older we spend our lives trying to re-capture those moments. Unfortunately, they can be as elusive as...fireflies.
Monday, September 08, 2003
what? nobody's seen escape from new york? what is this? an audience or an oil painting? i get nothing from this crowd . . .
ok. so my first snake "i thought you were dead" plissken post fell a little flat. but i'm glad to be blogging on this monday night. i'll make it fast (and without arcane kurt russell references).
random observation. i missed the monday night football opening sequence. but i'll bet it was IN MY FACE. dizzying camera spins and mind-numbing montages. ugh. i long for the simplicity of no hype, old school broadcasting. curt gowdy rocks.
while kris is on his whirlwind tour of bangkok (don't miss the seasoned curly fries at the hard rock cafe there), i had a moment tonite.
it was one of life's simplest pleasures. and i've gotta share it. because i almost missed it.
i was anointed dog-walker by my family tonite. it was a nearly unanimous ruling. so i threw on a t-shirt, harnessed our hyper pup and helmeted the x-man. the boy was to mount his cheap bike and ride with us. trying to manage both of them -- and traffic -- was, trying, indeed.
so we get to the creek across the street. and the speed of life picks up even more. dog and boy want to run. off the bike. in the water. up the hill. after other dogs. at this point, i'm cargo at the end of a leash.
and as dusk falls, i'm ready to get my weary bones home. put the boy down. the dog out. and get on with my trivial activities.
until i stand with my son and dog, gazing from the mild hilltop where the bike is parked. a beautiful scene is unfolding in front of us. in the day's fading light, i notice the area we've been running in. how lush and green the freshly mowed grass is. and that scattered over the football field's length of it are dozens of fireflies, lazily glowing and floating about. all under a radiant full moon.
"da. can i catch a firefly?"
about three words of my explanation to go home were already out of my mouth when i stopped.
the three of us used the rest of today's light running through the soft grass, laughing as we tried to cup our hands around an elusive firefly.
consider it joy, my brothers.
ok. so my first snake "i thought you were dead" plissken post fell a little flat. but i'm glad to be blogging on this monday night. i'll make it fast (and without arcane kurt russell references).
random observation. i missed the monday night football opening sequence. but i'll bet it was IN MY FACE. dizzying camera spins and mind-numbing montages. ugh. i long for the simplicity of no hype, old school broadcasting. curt gowdy rocks.
while kris is on his whirlwind tour of bangkok (don't miss the seasoned curly fries at the hard rock cafe there), i had a moment tonite.
it was one of life's simplest pleasures. and i've gotta share it. because i almost missed it.
i was anointed dog-walker by my family tonite. it was a nearly unanimous ruling. so i threw on a t-shirt, harnessed our hyper pup and helmeted the x-man. the boy was to mount his cheap bike and ride with us. trying to manage both of them -- and traffic -- was, trying, indeed.
so we get to the creek across the street. and the speed of life picks up even more. dog and boy want to run. off the bike. in the water. up the hill. after other dogs. at this point, i'm cargo at the end of a leash.
and as dusk falls, i'm ready to get my weary bones home. put the boy down. the dog out. and get on with my trivial activities.
until i stand with my son and dog, gazing from the mild hilltop where the bike is parked. a beautiful scene is unfolding in front of us. in the day's fading light, i notice the area we've been running in. how lush and green the freshly mowed grass is. and that scattered over the football field's length of it are dozens of fireflies, lazily glowing and floating about. all under a radiant full moon.
"da. can i catch a firefly?"
about three words of my explanation to go home were already out of my mouth when i stopped.
the three of us used the rest of today's light running through the soft grass, laughing as we tried to cup our hands around an elusive firefly.
consider it joy, my brothers.
Thursday, September 04, 2003
ROCKOLOGY
Below is an alphabetical listing of the greatest rock & roll artists of all time, along with their definitive works. A single artist was selected for each letter of the alphabet, and then a recording was selected that best represents their work.
Many thanks to the selection committee - me, Scott Biggers and Eric Oliver.
Aerosmith - Dream On
Beatles - Let it Be
Eric Clapton - Layla
The Doors - Break on Through
The Eagles - Hotel California
Foreigner - Feels Like the First Time
Grateful Dead - Truckin'
Jimi Hendrix - All Along the Watchtower
INXS - Don't Change
Jethro Tull - Aqualung
Kansas - Carry On My Wayward Son
Led Zepplin - Stairway to Heaven
Van Morrison - Moondance
Ted Nugent - Stranglehold
Roy Orbison - Pretty Woman
Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody
Rolling Stones - Jumpin Jack Flash
Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run
Talking Heads - Once in a Lifetime
U2 - I Will Follow
Van Halen - Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love
The Who - Won't Get Fooled Again
X - Los Angeles
Yes - Roundabout
ZZ Top - La Grange
Below is an alphabetical listing of the greatest rock & roll artists of all time, along with their definitive works. A single artist was selected for each letter of the alphabet, and then a recording was selected that best represents their work.
Many thanks to the selection committee - me, Scott Biggers and Eric Oliver.
Aerosmith - Dream On
Beatles - Let it Be
Eric Clapton - Layla
The Doors - Break on Through
The Eagles - Hotel California
Foreigner - Feels Like the First Time
Grateful Dead - Truckin'
Jimi Hendrix - All Along the Watchtower
INXS - Don't Change
Jethro Tull - Aqualung
Kansas - Carry On My Wayward Son
Led Zepplin - Stairway to Heaven
Van Morrison - Moondance
Ted Nugent - Stranglehold
Roy Orbison - Pretty Woman
Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody
Rolling Stones - Jumpin Jack Flash
Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run
Talking Heads - Once in a Lifetime
U2 - I Will Follow
Van Halen - Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love
The Who - Won't Get Fooled Again
X - Los Angeles
Yes - Roundabout
ZZ Top - La Grange
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