It's happened AGAIN!!

Utter disbelief from a co-worker that i'm the age I am. Thought I was joking. Literally thought I was a full decade younger. Is it my soft, dewy skin? My unwrinkled features? My teen swimmer's body? My full grasp of current musical acts? I'll tell ya, I NEVER fucking tire of it. May God bless you, Rory. And may God CONTINUE to bless ME, ME, ME!!

My double-shot of FRASIER

Nightly, after Letterman, from 12:30 till 1:30, I NEVER tire of double-duty FRASIER. Ever! It's the most unbelievably soothing, satisfying, and FUNNY end to my day. Even the tinkling piano, elegant opening credits make me smile. As does Kelsey Grammer's closing credits ditty, played over "silent" visual comedy. I endorse SO few shows or movies, but FRASIER is very, very dear to my heart.

1:06am...The Hungarian calls!?!?

So i'm sitting here with my laptop on my crotch in bed, writing my previous blog...when the PHONE RINGS?! I was so beyond startled. Well, actually, being I have the ringer OFF, I only hear when the machine starts talking. After I got over the shock, I quickly became panicked. The ONLY time my phone rings at such an hour is when Death is at the other end. Or SOMETHING horrible. I breathlessly waited for the beep...then heard nothing. Wrong number? But then...THE HUNGARIAN! Calling from...well, her chauffered work car after a night out. I didn't grasp this fact until 5 minutes in...I was still so dazzled by this spontaneous event. I thought she was at home, up and giddy for some reason despite work in the AM. The Hungarian was the cherry on my day! So few dependable friends...literally, but also in a "keepin' it fun, random, and surprising!" sense. She's right at the top, while most others lag terribly, TERRIBLY behind. Cheers, Hungarian!

A GOOD car story!

More like brief anecdote. Last night, I was painstakingly maneuvering my car in between 2 others. Parallel parking, that is. Soon, the woman who'd just parked in front of me came back to move her car up a bit! How wonderfully thoughtful!! I yelled THANK YOU! out my window, she replied YOU'RE WELCOME! For a brief minute, common courtesy reared its seldom seen head! I was elated. I felt I should've done more, like run up to her, lean her backwards and kiss her like that World War 2 sailor did in the Times Square photo. BRAVO, young neighborhood stranger woman!

The inexplicable kinda-sensation that is Josh Hartnett

I thought it nine years ago when he first appeared in HALLOWEEN H:20 and I think it now...one of THE most deadly dull and wooden actors ever to walk the earth. Also, he's not even that good looking, often further marring his face with his ill-chosen Mexican immigrant-esque mustache. If I hear one more fucking bitch squeal HOW CUTE he is!! At least he's somewhat tamed his hair from the artfully disheveled mess it was at the start of his career. Though he still has too much hair...but a lot of actors do. Tom Cruise's head is a fucking disgrace. But back to Josh. Yeah, he's DEADLY dull...as an actor AND to look at. Richard Roeper just tore him a new asshole on EBERT & ROEPER for his acting -- what sparked this blog. Thank God it's not just me. Trailers are painful to begin with, but I cringed at being forced into viewing the one for RESURRECTING THE CHAMP during my two trips to the cinema earlier this month. I could tell then and there it'd be an awful, fake, manipulative disaster. Another bomb from Josh Hartnett...AND Samuel L. Jackson. Go away, both of you! NANNY DIARIES...another failure I spotted the first time I saw the trailer. I may physically strike the first person I hear say "oh, that was really good!" about either of these films. I may strike them simply FOR seeing them. Hmm, Josh and Scarlett were/are (who cares) an item...both dull and in awful movies...quite a couple! Damn, i'm on a roll for things that irritate me...but people who see ANYthing just for a night out at the movies piss me off. As do people who are too dumb to know that the film they just saw was NOT "really good." Dumb, dumb people!!

The inexplicable sensation that is GOLF

Can someone PLEASE explain to me the incredibly vast appeal of this UTTERLY dull (to play and CERTAINLY to watch) "sport"? Actually, don't bother, because I've heard it all before, and it never makes sense. EVERYONE loves it. Everyone. My dad, my brother, cousins, uncles, friends, mortal enemies. I tried it once...finally...2 years ago, and after about an hour, I was through with it and ready to call it a day. But, no, we had about 5 more hours left. I wanted to shoot myself. I'm truly convinced some people who say they love it DON'T...they're just...I don't even know what the reasoning could be to lie. It's just a day out...and you can do ANYthing to be outside all day. Why GOLF? Good exercise, people will argue. Better than laying in bed? Sure. But all you're fucking doing is walking...IF you're even doing that, as many drive around in carts, negating ANY exercise excuse. And most people who golf SUCK. So they suck at the sport, never get much better, and could just go for a long walk or drive on a beautiful day and get just as much exercise. I'd rather do ANYthing but golf. Anything. I hate it! Detest it! Don't EVER ask me to go. It's boring as sin and you're all fooling yourselves. And it's NOT a real sport. And I hate Tiger Woods. But I DO love mini-golf...go figure!

My wonderful last Saturday evening of August!

I actually left the house, navigating the idiot masses, and came back HAPPIER! So, let's recap the wonderful things that happened between 5:45pm and 9pm sharp. Now while it's like fucking Manila outside with this humidity, I yearned for...a swamp. First I went to the meadowlands nature reserve and walked around the trails...COMPLETELY ALONE! I saw a groundhog...or something...and relished the soothing tranquility of water and plantlife. From there, I took a non-speeding drive through my old high school hood, my zigzagging destination being McDonald's, as I really had no dinner at home to make. Too hot to cook anyway. Now I had this coupon where I'd get a free burger if I bought a Big Mac or quarter pounder. So at first the girl's all "oh, I gotta see if we can accept this." I patiently wait, still amazingly non-flustered. Well, she soon came back and took my order for the quarter pounder with cheese. And a medium fries, too, thanks. Then I hear my total...$1.81. Um, what? The quarter pounder alone was $3.19. I gleefully hand over my $2, not asking questions. My bag comes...the burger's not in it, but who cares. THEN she gives me a cup. Our eyes lock for a split second, as she's seemingly just realizing I didn't ORDER a drink. Too late, bitch...I grab the cup, thank her, and walk away. So what she did was deduct the entire cost of the quarter pounder, solely charge me for the fries, then give me a medium cup for a drink I didn't order. FUCKING YEAH, BABY!! All of that SHOULD have cost me more than 6 bucks. Holy right move going to McD's tonight! Satiated after eating my dinner in the air-conditioned car, I proceeded to Barnes & Noble, which really was a last-minute idea, as I feared it'd be a hellish mob scene at 8pm on a Saturday. But I was close by, so in I went. You see, I was making a return...of a big ass dumb book I swiped from work. Why it took 4 months for me to hatch this plot is beyond me. My genius, as i've said, is sometimes delayed. "Yeah, I was told they got it here, but I don't have a receipt." Ding, ding, ding...no problem, sir!! *I interject to say how I very quickly found a parking spot, and then sailed RIGHT up to the cashier...no waiting!* My $30 book was somehow now only worth half that, not that I ever spent a cent on it. I zipped right to the maps section and wound up with maps of Essex County and the Bronx, plus a birthday card...94 cents for all. YAY! And NOW I have a Barnes bag for my OTHER book, which I'll also "return" soon. A final plot I hatched tonight, but haven't put into motion yet -- my McD's cup...why not SAVE it and bring it to McD's whenever the fuck I want for FREE BEVERAGES?!?! I'd have to be a bit subtle, but it's entirely doable. Damn, WHY did I not think of this before now?! Once home, I took off my sticky wife-beater and helped myself to a heaping of cookie dough ice cream. I can't express how FUCKING SATISFYING this night has been! And it's only 10:30. I think i'll have a beer now...

2:15am...watching the Yanks play...

I'm the biggest night owl on earth, but isn't it just a tad absurd that the Yankees-Tigers game is STILL playing at 2:15am?!?! The game was rain-delayed and didn't even START until 11pm! INSANITY! Serious stupidity if you ask me. It's amazing to see all the fans still in their seats...little kids even. The fact that it's a Friday night in summer surely has a lot to do with this, but still. Midnight should be the deadline, then the game's put on hold or something. Hmm, as I write that, i'm flashing back to MIDNIGHT BINGO at the shore when I was a kid at the local First Aid squad with my family and cousins who lived nearby. Dad and the bro may have (predictably) bailed at some point, but mom and I always hung in for the long haul. Jesus, I haven't thought about that in AGES! That was SO much fun! Going OUT at midnight as a 10-year-old! HA! My God, I'm so damn happy to be remembering that now! When the cousins came "across the bay," they'd often stay till like 4am, all of us sitting outside at the little back table next to the pebble driveway of the little bungalow that sat off the sand street. Blocks from the ocean. You could even hear the waves. And certainly smell the sea. The salt air and humidity. Hell, I can smell it now in my mind. The pitch black sky full of stars. It was perfect. Just perfect. I deeply fear times like those won't happen ever again...people dying, people moving, people getting older and duller, and the YOUNGER people just NOT being nearly as fun and nocturnal as my parents and relatives were back in the day. I really do/did have a kickass fam. Twenty years ago this month was the last time we went to those bungalows. Mini-golf. Midnight bingo. The Seaside boardwalk. The sandy street. The cousins coming across the bay. Dinner at the Italian place. Dairy Queen. Route 35. Damn, that was a tangent I didn't expect. Now i'm sad. Sigh. Incredibly fond memories are like that. SO...it's 3:10am (!!) and the score's tied at 6, top of the ELEVENTH...

I miss Andrew

Now that I think about it, I miss my TWO Andrews. My college roomie, too. But I was talking about my old POST-college roomie. I ALSO had an orientation roomie named Drew...odd, huh? Anyway, the Andrew of my 20s was a welcome breath of fresh air who I lived with for a mere 6 months. Cruel, my roomie irony...the ones I want leave, the ones I don't NEVER leave. Andrew left here for ALASKA. Good for him. I should've gone with him. Seven years later, I still miss him. Hell, I just wish he still lived around here. Sigh. Such are the thoughts and feelings dredged up upon reviewing/re-organizing years of correspondence. I won't even get INTO the piles of obituaries. It's been kind of a depressing day. BUT...it's done...another aspect of my crazed organizing. So, um, YAY! Coincidentally, news broke today of Mother Teresa's letters. See the company I keep in correspondence-hoarding? Seems Teresa's belief in God seriously wavered. I'm not sure how I feel about this yet. On the one hand, it's completely depressing. YET...I think ultimately it makes me admire her even more, as it shows the COMMON SENSE I so desperately yearn for in daily life. Not to mention a wildly contradictory human...me likes them, too. This concludes tonight's decidedly downbeat blog. Contact a long-lost friend today, won't ya?

Gary loves the $$$$$$$

I'm continually fascinated by myself. Have you gotten that impression? So many contradictions! Like how i've been waxing lately about how LITTLE material possessions mean to me...and how that surprised me. Well, yeah, to a degree i'm definitely able to survive better than most sans DA BLING. But you know what? I FUCKING LOVE MONEY. My appreciation of it BECAUSE of my situation has skyrocketed during the past few years. And when I come into some dough, my God, I can't express the joy it gives me! Today I came into...not the dough yet...but a two-week gig that'll net me MUCHO DINERO soon enough. And i'm just giddy thinking about...here's the other catch...how much fucking money i'll have AFTER I've paid off many debts. I'm equally excited about acquiring material possessions AND paying off debt. Hell, I'm excited about paying for those possessions with CASH, NOT CREDIT! Oh, i'm gonna have fun goin to sleep tonight, dreaming of all I can do once I have this cash. And there really is SO much...ah, the PERSPECTIVE of being destitute! It's official...greedy Puff Gary, dead for years, is finally back, and I WANT IT ALL!! Well, except for a camera phone, GPS system, 147-foot plasma TV...

OK, what the fuck's with this weather?

Today tied a record in Central Park...Lowest August High EVER. It only reached 59 degrees today. Um, that's normal for EARLY FUCKING NOVEMBER!! I dig freakish weather, rainy days, cool autumnal days...but not for super long stretches in August. Even I was starting to get edgy today over the weather. The fact that I was inexplicably exhausted the whole day and starting to feel like my head was gonna explode from all my CONTINUED organizing also played a part in today's edginess. I mean, I was TIRED...like eyes heavy tired. For MUCH of the day. Only, naturally, past 11pm did I somewhat perk up. Indeed, tonight I went on another day's bit-by-bit tear of obsessive organizing. Tonight was actually exciting once I got into it...yet MORE areas I haven't covered in YEARS got the once-over. I really can't overemphasize how ALL-encompassing this is. It's like one giant thread. Yet I continue to realize that most can't grasp what the FUCK i'm still doing. Oh, well. Let's just say i'm REALLY enjoying revamping my desk for the first time since, oh, the 80s? I should table talking about this since no one can wrap their heads around it. Clutter equals chaos, while Martha Stewart-esque OCD organization equals CONTROL!! Control that's contagious. Control that's, actually, CREATIVE. Control that I used to have more of, but lost, and am focused like a bullet in flight on getting back. Indeed, my focus -- when I have the ability to harness it -- is SCARY good. Um, yeah, but I'm still starting to get REAAAAAAAALY stir crazy. I need a heavy night of drinking...WITH people. Not alone. WITH people...people I know. Yeah.

Motherfucker's George Foreman grill

So Dipshit/Motherfucker/Asswipe...he doesn't know the meaning of dinner if it doesn't involve his George Foreman grill. This means seemingly every fucking night that he eats here, I have to endure the sound of SIZZLING, the smell of grease, and the air of smokiness. And my room's right off the kitchen. I'd like to take his face and slam IT onto the grill. He also doesn't know how to do ANYthing in silence. Meaning, he absolutely MUST listen to crackling AM talk radio during said meals. God forbid he sit alone with his thoughts...or even just read something. Did I mention how my room is right off the kitchen? So I hear/smell all of this? Like right now. Have I also ever mentioned how there is not a SINGLE MOVE that me makes that isn't an unspeakably irritating one? I really don't know HOW i'm gonna survive once his summer extended weekends at the shore come to an end. Because, honestly, simply opening my mouth to mutter "HEY" whenever I see him is entirely too taxing. With any luck, he'll leave soon for the gym or market or his ridiculous 11pm hockey games 40 minutes away, and I can again pretend he doesn't exist. Now, sure, I could go somewhere myself...except it's raining and 58 degrees, and i'm also inexplicably exhausted. More so, the latter excuse. I SHOULD go for a brisk walk, though. You know, the only thing I can do that really doesn't involve interaction with another human. Hey, wait, I have Dunkin Donuts coupons! I could fetch me a HOT cheap jolt of caffeine on this autumnal-like August evening! Give me the energy to slam Dipshit's face into something...

I have this most macabre new habit...

...of searching for the MySpace pages of people (all, naturally, young) who've just died...and also the pages of the friends and family mourning them. It's really too big to get into now at 2:20am. I don't know why I do it. It's completely freaky and surreal. I just spent tons of time seeking out a 33-year-old race car driver from NJ whose race accident death Thursday made the front page of the Star-Ledger. There's his pics that HE put online. HIS profile. And then there's the messages before he died...and then the memorial messages AFTER his death. It is all just TOO bizarre. The internet has revolutionized even death. It really, honest to God, is KINDA like they're NOT really dead as you sit there and send a message to their MySpace page. And I guess THAT'S the lure, huh? Sorry to have depressed y'all. It IS fascinating, though. Then there's how I'd like to start seeking out killers and gang members online...to try to CATCH them, that is. I read a riveting account of how a Newark cop used MySpace to find one of the execution killers!! I'd LOVE to do that shit!! Yeah, I need to find lighter pre-bed reading material...

SLOW WALKERS ON RED: The First in a Series of Very Specific Driving Rants

I propose legislation be passed that allows drivers to plow into people ambling in front of them on foot while THE DRIVERS have the green light. Oh, Gary, you're so funny! I'm not trying to be funny. It is actually yet another area where common courtesy AND common sense is completely neglected. If I am remotely in the line of a car while i'm on foot and the light's turning green, I FUCKING HUSTLE to the curb. As EVERYONE should. And I don't give a flying motherfucking FUCK if the person's 95, in a wheelchair, has one leg, is blind, or all of the above (which would be a pretty sad case, no?). Spare me the violins. It doesn't give them carte blanche to just walk into traffic whenever the fuck they want. They're being selfish, dumb, or both. But you know what? It's not just the elderly or crippled. In fact, fatass latina women and women with FUCKING STROLLERS (sometimes, these 2 are horribly intertwined) are just as often the offenders -- trust me, I keep mental statistics. The latinas need to learn the rules of THIS country and the Precious Darling Sensibly-Tressed-and-Dressed Mommies need to...well, see the carte blanche thing above. Whoopee, you shot a human out of your cunt...you're not the Virgin Mary -- or even Oprah...now quit expecting everyone to cater to you and get the fuck out of my way! If you don't think you can get out of the line of fire before the light turns red, don't attempt to cross the fucking street, nutsack and bitchtwat! Got it? Of course you don't. Wow, and i'm actually in a REALLY good mood...yet look at how offensive i've been!

3 oz. RIGHT GUARD...24 cents

See, it's half off this week at ShopRite, PLUS I have a $1 coupon. Actually, I have two. I'll buy the 2nd one later this week. Two regular size deodorants for a grand total of 48 cents. Learn from the master, kids, learn from the master.

Greeting cards...over the cell phone?

I read tonight that American Greetings is starting this service where you can send "cards" over your cell phone. I need that SERENITY NOW again. I'm VERY...very...calmly gonna ask my fellow men and women of the earth...ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!!? AM I TRULY ALONE IN MY OUTRAGE OVER THIS ESCALATING ELECTRONIC-GADGETRY MADNESS?!?! Will I soon be able to use a cell as a sexual aid of some sort? Maybe I can someday chop off my limbs...surely I can voice activate myriad devices to drive my car, vacuum my rug, cook my dinner and feed me. I'll get what little exercise I can by rolling my stumpy self down the street to pick up my wash-and-fold laundry service, because God knows i'll be too important and time-pressed to fold my own socks. They can drape the bag around my neck or something...hmm, maybe I can keep ONE limb. Hell, I COULD just have them pick it up and drop it back off, but i'll wanna get outside ONCE in a while. DO stay tuned for my (surely 2nd, 3rd, 9th?) rant on the SUPREME IDIOCY of the GPS system...or, actually, the humans who find it essential (a sneak preview -- have you HEARD of either a map or that thing called a brain in your head?)...

My jackshit weekend

I've barely left the house. Yet again tonight, I found myself ruminating on the fact that I've had a PARTICULARLY solitary August so far...despite those family parties. I have been utterly self-absorbed -- wrapped up in my own little world of organizing my countless files & piles, internet hijinks with my new "mobile" laptop, and toying with my new cell phone. Not to mention COUNTLESS trips to ShopRite to take advantage of triple coupon madness. Yeah, that really DOES pretty much sum up the first 2 weeks of August for me. And the family parties on the weekends to break up the monotony...until this weekend. Today was shitty weather, though, anyway...ideal for further burrowing. And it was another historic day of tossing & rearranging things that haven't moved in YEARS...moving onto my DESK now. My precious, sacred desk. I know I seem like a nut. I swear, though, this is crucial shit...a seismic shift in How I Look At Things...literally. My feng-shui, if you will. Serenity NOW!

Note #2...even more amusing...

Suddenly, another book idea is forming. A "compilation" perhaps? This one is from the "summer session" after junior year of high school...one of my darker (of many) hours of high school where I (ME!!!) was made to feel like a dolt -- yet I triumphed (natch) in the end, proving (to me, at least) that my algebra teacher/sometime-ski shop owner was the failure, not I. But I digress. The following is letter-for-letter -- the errors are hers, not mine (but of course). SHUDDER...years later, I can still see her...faint mustache and all...

"Dear Gary,
How are you doing? I'm borred to dead but you make it more interesting because I think your very funny, and very cute. So you have a girlfriend? I just wanted to know!
Write back soon,
Paula! - The seat behind you."

A pertinent 8th grade note to me, word for word...

The organizational fun continues pour moi this September-esque August Saturday night. And in doing so, one comes across things like the manila envelope in my desk drawer marked "8th grade & HS notes/pics." Hmm, has "the note" gone the way of the 45, too? Do 14-year-olds of today merely text each other? Sad, if true. Penmanship...another loser of the cell phone age. Anyway, here's the note...my favorite line being the last one (it's a Catholic thing, not a sexual one)...

"Gary, Hi! How's your life? How's your LOVE LIFE? Who do you like? Where are you going after the May Crowning? Patti."

I just had a stunning realization...

This is the FIRST WEEKEND of the summer that I have had a COMPLETELY BLANK SLATE!! I was originally thinking it was the first weekend in 5 weeks, as i've had family parties the past FOUR FUCKING WEEKENDS. Then I got to thinking...when you throw in house/dogsitting duties, OTHER family parties in June, and the COUPLE times I've gone away to friends' houses for the weekend...well, you have to go back to mid MAY to find a Friday through Sunday period where I had...no, wait a minute...then I had ANOTHER house/dogsitting gig, and before that was Mother's Day, and the weekend before that I worked a 13-hour Saturday, and the weekend before that was ANOTHER fucking family party...ok, I gotta catch my breath. OK. After consulting my daily planner, I have officially made the horrifying discovery that I need to go back to the LAST WEEKEND OF MARCH to truly find my last Totally Free Weekend. This INFURIATES me! Seriously, that is just SO wrong. Yes, i'm a man who detests commitments.

Hot damn, do I love this Friendly's ice cream!

Coffee AND cherry vanilla. SO creamy!! I bought two...I mean, at $1.50 each for a half-gallon, you canNOT beat that price. Friendly's hasn't been in our stores much for some reason, so I hope this marks a comeback. And WHY has it taken me so long to sample cherry vanilla? It's fucking incredible. Didn't think i'd like cherries in my ice cream...despite liking them solo...and a lifetime of preferring cherry-flavored ANYthing. Oh, what a BIG BOY Gary was whenever he'd order a Shirley Temple!

Some closing thoughts from F. Scott Fitzgerald...or me...

Breezing through some books of mine tonight for the first time in eons, I came across passages I'd highlighted from THIS SIDE OF PARADISE. I was reminded of this brief phase of mine where i'd deface my books to note things that struck me. It's rather scary, actually, how MUCH I identify with Mr. Fitzgerald. Some words HE wrote...

"I'M A CYNICAL IDEALIST."

"Amory thought of sophomore spring as the happiest time of his life. His ideas were in tune with life as he found it; he wanted no more than to drift and dream and enjoy a dozen new-found friendships through the April afternoons."

"It's just that I feel so sad these wonderful nights. I sort of feel they're never coming again, and I'm not really getting all I could out of them."

Madonna turns 49 (!?!?) and Elvis celebrates 30 years as a dead person

I'll always find it odd that SHE was born on the day HE died. Cosmic iconic fun!!

On a roll...

I didn't leave the house today, i'm ashamed to admit. I came SO close...going to the hall mailbox and all. And I leaned out many windows many times. And this apt's so damn bright and airy, it's like i'm outside. But I was just SUPER DUPER organizationally productive today...so many levels. I'm fucking exhausted. And the day began with me cursing choppers overhead. I imagine living here is like living in LA in the chopper sense. They are CONSTANTLY irritating me by parking themselves over my house. If I hear them, I KNOW something's up and i'll see it on the news. Today, yet another Latino didn't know how to handle matches correctly and a five-alarm fire ensued. OK, so I don't know the ethnic makeup of the firestarter...but let's just say chances are high it's a Latino...and let's also just say I have NEVER heard more FUCKING fire engines than I have living here. So, yes, i'm being flip, but it's not a racial statement, so I again urge you to save your letters for someone who cares.

So anyway, I woke up severely disgruntled and cursing...and yet this gloriously productive day panned out! It ALL began with...STILL...the videotapes. How's this for odd? I realized I hadn't viewed one last videotape that was already labeled...just to make sure it was still a good tape. So I view it, start to put it away...then decide to see what else is on it. It's TOM SNYDER! Oh, but it gets odder. Just another Tom tape would be great...but his guest? ROBERT BLAKE, pre-murdering his wife!! And in this interview, he even says something about not having to dig too far to get into the mind of a killer. (He's played a couple.) FASCINATING shit in retrospect. And the weird thing is...he's a great interview. But it gets even BETTER. The 2nd guest was the author of a book I got in 1995 based solely on the title and how it would rattle people when viewed on my coffee table..."SWEET REVENGE: THE WICKED DELIGHTS OF GETTING EVEN." I later got it autographed by the author, Regina Barreca, at the Astor Place Barnes & Noble. And then she was on Tom, I was reminded today. It was ALL so random how I kept stumbling upon this woman and her book some years back. But wait...there's still more, lol. I again took the tape out and was REALLY about to put it away when I decided to JUST see what was at the end of it. Well...it was an ABC reporter's story on PRIMETIME LIVE of hitchhiking from MA to Santa Monica in 1996. I really believe some higher being led me to re-watching this story, labeling it, and saving it for eternity. It was the BEST story...inspirational, sad, funny. Yet again, the vision of a Santa Monica beach was thrust tauntingly in my face. And I ALMOST never knew this tape was there. How fortunate I feel to have viewed it again...at THIS life juncture. Wow, and this was merely the prelude to the Main Course of my day's productivity!

So Valene and Gary Ewing's son just added me on MySpace...

This PERFECTLY exemplifies what I mean when I say how EVERY move you make, no matter how seemingly trivial or unrelated to Big Pressing Life Issues, can become a trigger for something far grander in Life's Big Scheme. This week-long videotape streamlining/reviewing/labeling epic project of mine...well, it's complete, and i'm overjoyed with the practical benefits of my labor. Both the extra space I have and the whopping organization of it all is THRILLING. And now i'm spurred to KEEP GOING onto the remaining cluttered areas of my life...far more important ones, I may add. BUT...but...but...that's beside the point. As I mentioned the other day, reviewing all this shit has reminded me of the past 15 years of my life. There's a greater clarity to things...a reminder of people and places and dreams. It's been both wildly entertaining and incredibly thought-provoking.

But then there's THIS one final benefit...something SO odd, so surreal, so "if you told me a week ago that..." in its randomness. So after viewing my old fave KNOTS LANDING's reunion movie from a decade ago, curious me yearned to know everything about the stars of the show. Specifically, I wanted to know 1) how old the main stars are now, and 2) what in the HELL happened to many of the more peripheral characters, like the kids. Well, Google yielded Wikipedia, which gave up mucho info on everyone. And in the instance of the kid who played BOBBY EWING (named after Uncle Bobby on DALLAS, who was killed, but then it was a dream, yet they never addressed that little fact on KNOTS), I was stunned to see a link to his MySpace page!! I couldn't fucking believe it! And it wasn't even locked for privacy! Now, this guy isn't "famous" or anything -- in fact, he's out of acting now -- but I still found it remarkable that I so easily tracked him down. He's 24 now, still living in LA. And, yes, that's right, I wrote him an email. And he wrote me back a few hours later. In the first email, I stated how I wouldn't request a Friend Add for fear i'd seem a bit, um, presumptuous...but he said I could...so I did...and now we're on each other's pages! And I'm corresponding with a former child star! A TOTALLY well-adjusted one! Looking at his personal photos, reading up all about him...this kid who had Joan Van Ark as a "mom" and hung out on the set of one of my all-time fave shows! It's FUCKING CRAZY!! I somehow doubt most will be able to grasp how cool this is to me. I'm so NOT the celeb-ass kisser type...that's not what this is about. It's just...neat. And unbelievably random. And something, yet again, that ONLY could have happened in this internet age. I LOVE it! It'd be SO cool if we forged some kind of online friendship, but i'm not gonna push things, lol. Is it too creepy to state that I'd love to have him over for tea...ok, beer...so I can pick his brain on Nicollette Sheridan and the rest of the cast, and then present him with a copy of my KNOTS LANDING: CHILDREN'S EDITION manuscript that I wrote when I was like 12 and 13 and still sits in my desk drawer? Too creepy, right? And you know what else? He also now becomes I think the 3rd resident of the LA area on my page. MUHAHAHAHA...as I plot my infiltration into the hearts and minds of Southern Californians! And allllllllllllll this from my frustration over videotape chaos. Do you SEE the lesson? I hope you learned something valuable from Uncle Gary today.

Greg Sumner (William Devane) and Abby Fairgate Cunningham Ewing Sumner (Donna Mills)

Two of my idols. Seriously. I've even been known to steal dialogue. Anne Mathison (Michelle Phillips) is a fucking riot, too. Smart, scheming, unspeakably sharp-witted adults who hang up phones with raised eyebrows and devilish smirks, knowing they've just set in motion plots that will benefit them. Abby in a trenchcoat and pumps at night, ripping things out of a businessman's car's engine to ensure he'll need her lift back to his hotel. Abby used to toil in her brother's car shop in the early 80s, you know. She ain't afraid to get her hands dirty. And she always gets her way. Sumner...cool, aloof, intolerant of stupidity. Ah, I love it. This is the life I want to live...acquiring wealth and property, while dismissing detractors with a self-satisfied smile and scathing bon mot.

KNOTS LANDING

Have I ever mentioned my love of this show? Truly one of my top 5 shows of all time. And FUNNY! Funnier than most sitcoms. INTENTIONALLY. Sadly, most people probably write it off as "just another soap." No, no, NO!! I HAVE to have written about this before. And thanks to Wikipedia, I now finally know the actual cul-de-sac street where it was filmed in Grenada Hills, CA. Residents there should look out for me. Don't be afraid, i'm harmless...just know I AM coming...perhaps recreating scenes by myself. I just wanna yell "VALENE!!"

JUSTIFY MY LOVE

Viewed this video for the first time in ages tonight. Of COURSE I have it. Funny...Madonna was 32 then...multiple reasons to sigh. Also funny is how tame it really is. It's highly watchable...but controversial? Please. I should've recreated this video for some college communications class. HA, would've been classic. I'd have played The Guy With The Unit. Damn my delayed-by-years genius!

The Newark killers

1) Shoot THEM all in the head and be done with it.
2) Stick the immigrants' families on a cargo plane back to wherever the fuck they're from, with ZERO chance of getting back in.
3) Toss the murderers' bodies in said cargo plane with them.
4) If all of the above cannot be accomplished for some reason, and we must endure a tedious trial, try the "kids" as adults and give them all the death penalty...and actually ENFORCE it.

Lucky 13

Today has been just a REALLY good day. Absolutely NOTHING super duper happened, but I've been in a great, completely zen, totally non-agitated mood ALL day long!! Sure, I had SOME road rage in the car, but nothing that resulted in turning red or growing hoarse or dwelling on the fucking dolt involved hours later. Hmm, now that I DO think of it, there was this assfuck with PA plates hogging the left lane on Rt. 3 throughout Secaucus. When I finally managed to speed past him, I gave the full treatment of direct glare/hand gesture/clearly understandable profanity and then, to ice the cake perfectly, darted in front of him the second I was able to do so. And surprise, surprise...THAT got his attention to move over to the FUCKING center lane. Stupid piece of slow-moving shit. It's so very tough to decide, but left lane hogs -- whether they're "policing" or merely dumb fucks who don't grasp it's the FAST LANE -- MAY be the worst of ALL the idiotic driving offenders. Oh, but this is supposed to be a cheery little entry, where I speak of skipping giddily down streets, while smelling flowers and accepting chirping birds into my bosum. It really was one of those exceedingly rare days where it was like someone laced my cereal with pot...well, what I imagine that'd be like. Is that even possible? I mean, milk would wet the weed. But I digress again. So, yes, I cursed, rolled my eyes, and grew mildly exasperated throughout today, but overall, I HANDLED it all SO much better than usual. I guess that's the key...how you HANDLE things. To end on a deeply personal note...even my colon was relaxed today. It was WELL into the afternoon before I made that Special Trip. You have NO idea how bizarre that is! Hours late! You learn something new here daily, huh? I could've been a LOT more graphic...

Where the hell are the meteors?

Tonight's the peak of the Perseid meteor shower, an annual event that always has me staring up at the heavens. Well, I just leaned out my bedroom window for a good 5 minutes, which faces NE, which is the prime viewing direction...and I saw nothing. I THINK I see Mars, at least. I'm not remotely a big outer space guy, yet I've always loved looking up at the sky, whether it's a deep blue daylight hour sky or a black, starry night one. The whole "realizing how extraordinary the earth is and how insignificant each of us alone is" thing.

A lovely family party

Clearly i'm starved for material tonight, in contrast to 24 hours ago. All I can really think to write about is that I spent 5 hours at a family party tonight, spending most of the time lounging on the back deck with either beer or water. I was home by 10:30pm, resumed my internet play and videotape project viewing, and here I sit at 3:30am. Riveting entry, huh? It was a good day, though. And GORGEOUS weatherwise...crystal clear, low humidity, 85 degrees. Ideal.

Suddenly October

I'm sure it won't seem that way given my previous blogs of today, but this has been the BEST day! Like, a gift from God. It has been sooooooooooooooooo restorative. And the weather PERFECTLY complemented my mood. It was in the high 50s or low 60s all damn day. With gray skies, drizzle, and a stiff northeast wind. I was COLD, both in my apt. and outside, even with full autumn gear on. It really was freaky how suddenly it was like autumn...in early August. Tonight was grand as I resumed the videotape project. My, the gems...Johnny Carson tributes, Sept. 11 stuff, the pope's visit to Newark in 1995, a Ch. 4 news special celebrating the NYC subway's 100th anniversary, Nets games, KNOTS LANDING episodes from 1991. Yes, my taste is varied. It's scary watching this stuff...just the same as home movies...it's like you're back in those years. Fascinating and scary at once...the passage of time...inspiring in its own Gary Way. What it does, at least for me, is takes me back to who I was at the time. It's so much more than just watching old TV clips. I went through scores of videos, had the internet on, ate endlessly, lit a "grass scent" candle. Just totally cocooned. Best Friday night in ages. HA...and I say I need to be around people more? And miss solo personal projects in my bedroom?? I've had so much fun it's 5 fucking AM now. OY! Well, I DO have a party to be at in 10 hours. See how I balance?

FRIENDSHIP: ONE of my Life Storylines

My quest for it.
The value I place in it.
It didn't always come easily to me.
If people only knew.
I don't forget the lean years.
Incredibly lean.
Never will.
Unless i'm sidelined by Alzheimer's.
I'm incredibly fortunate to have seen both extremes of the friendship coin.
Not many do.
Painful loner.
Impossibly popular.
Library instead of the cafe because "who would I sit with?"
Danny to Kelly's Sandy in the 50s Chevy in the homecoming parade.
I could go on, but it's 4:46am and I still have ONE more blog.

Vexed by friends who can't return emails...or ever send one to ME

I'm not irate with anyone in particular. Just another thought I had on my exceedingly relaxing, productive, zen Friday night. I'm not asking people to reply in under 20 minutes, the same day, even the next day. But when DAYS go by...or, worse, MONTHS...and they never reply at all...and this becomes a pattern...well, it's fucking irritating. Secondly, i'm not even asking that they write me a book...though sometimes, more than two lines would be nice. And the reason -- either eventually stated or implied by my empty inbox -- is always some variation on how busy they are...how FUCKING important they are to the earth's continual spinning on its axis. Specifically, the BAAAAAAAAAAAABEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE they have...or the 2, 3, 4 babies they have...or the incredibly demanding job...or the 8 marathons they're training for...or the volunteer work. Guess what? It's a bullshit answer. You're either being rude or you don't value my friendship. And I know this because I'M the most important thing keeping the earth spinning...yet I find time for emails. I'm incredibly self-involved, forever working on 37 different projects involving ME, ME, ME. I'M busy. Not with a fucking infant, of course, but trust me, I'M busy, too. Yet I know that above all, in the end, when you're taking your last breath in this great life...it's relationships that matter. And for all my legendary self-absorption, and my constant yearning to be alone, I've always desperately tried to maintain and foster relationships. Nothing else really matters in the end. Others don't seem to care, but I take the time. I MAKE the time. Yes, i'm THAT great of a human being.

I think i'm alone too much...maybe...

What's this? A rare, intimate peek into my soul? I love being alone, but I'm starting to wonder if it's becoming an addiction...if i'm taking it to an extreme? Am I TOO set in my solo ways? AM I missing out on something? Dammit, are OTHERS missing out on ME? Hmm, this is a conundrum...surely born out of the day i've had...which I've vastly enjoyed. I just don't want to be 70 and walking a ferret while clad in a trenchcoat. Or do I? It's past 3am and this is far too complicated a topic. I'm a very complicated person. No, really, I am...it's an eye-rolling, arrogant thing to say, but more easily gotten away with in a blog than at a dinner party. I'm this incredibly dynamic (props, Hungarian!), animated, extroverted, opinionated person...who also loves being alone, on the sidelines, observing, taking things in. I feel i'm equally both. And it's a weird tightrope to walk. I'm SO interested in other people, yet I don't always wanna be around them. I get melancholy over the slightest missed connections. I feel like there's not enough time in the day to spend with people...yet I'm often alone. But that's not ALL my fault, you know...

THE BROOKLYN TORNADO!!

A historic weather day. The first tornado EVER recorded to have touched down in Brooklyn. AND the STRONGEST tornado EVER recorded in New York City history!! I'm still tingling with excitement. My jaw dropped when I heard it was an F-2. This is JUST unheard of. God, SO damn exciting! Quite potentially a once-in-a-lifetime event. The tornado occurred around 6:30am, starting in Staten Island, then hopping over to Bay Ridge, which was the most damaged area. It then touched down again in Sunset Park or Flatbush. I'd kill for a photo of the funnel cloud. Didn't anyone take a pic as they ran for their life?!?!

Sex, lies and...ok, just videotape

Sure, I have stories of sex and lies, but TONIGHT was all about videotape. Specifically, the 92 videotapes I've had sitting there...and sitting there...and, well, yeah, i've decided to add THEM to my Overall Life Cleansing. I do NOT need 92 videotapes. I mean, most things are on DVD anyway. But beyond that, I haven't touched 95% of those tapes in months...years, even. I certainly don't need 24 umarked tapes. I have no idea what's on them. Ugh, I SO wanna just throw them out. But I know I won't. But my viewing of them WILL be as brief as can be. I do NOT have the fucking time for this. Tonight alone, I've dumped 6 of my 10 SIMPSONS tapes and cut my FRASIER ones by half, down to three. I'd say 15 tapes overall are sitting in a trash bag by the curb right now. It's tedious, but immensely satisfying. And I've already come across some surprise gems...like the final week of TOM SNYDER's CBS show. I KNEW I had them somewhere. I can't believe he's gone. Watching the tapes from 1999, it feels like yesterday. I am SO grateful I taped those shows, now properly labeled for eternity. He really did EXACTLY what I wanna do with my life. Well, cheers to my ongoing productivity!! I pray I can motivate YOU to attack YOUR pile of WHATEVER. Just DO it.

So can I file televised weather reports from my room?

Because yet again, I'M right and EVERY fucker on TV with a degree in meteorology and a monstrous paycheck is wrong. Today in the NYC area was supposed to be "unbearable." A HEAT ADVISORY was issued LAST night. You know what, let's skip ahead a bit. So the weather can fool us SOMEtimes...I get that. HERE'S my IRATE GRIPE...that NO mention was made as late as the noon news that something JUST wasn't right about their forecast, despite the clear evidence that would've hit them if they just stepped out the fucking door. The "heat" was even still a top story, complete with stories of how we were all "coping." COPING? With a TWO-DAY stretch of humidity and temps in the 80s in August? Yeah, definitely retreat to your icy bunkers. So here's what I ascertained BEFORE I EVEN FUCKING GOT UP THIS MORNING -- that I wasn't remotely sweltering, and I don't even have an AC installed. Just my two windows open and a fan. And I was FINE. Specifically, 1) it wasn't as humid as when I went to bed, and 2) a mildly refreshing NORTHERLY breeze was wafting into my north-facing windows. A little note...unspeakably hot and humid air doesn't flow from the FUCKING NORTH. Yet all the weather dipshits didn't seem to detect what I, a simple layman, pieced together from my bedroom. They're even showing the actual temps, humidity, and wind direction, yet COMPLETELY ignoring that nothing adds up to the blistering predictions. The National Weather Service isn't much better...they JUST, at 4pm, cancelled the heat advisory. I know this from my Weather Channel viewing, although I DO have a weatherradio, too. So it took the National FUCKING Weather Service HOURS longer than me to notice a seismic weather fuck-up. And we want the government to find Osama and help Katrina victims? They can't even act swiftly enough to note and remedy a giant daily weather blunder. Thank GOD I didn't break my back putting in my AC last night for THIS. Ugh. Have I mentioned how I detest stupidity?

*Ironically, as I write this, an Oprah repeat has #1 Weatherman Al Fucking Gore again standing in front of head-nodding sycophants, telling them in his narcolepsy-inducing voice that it shouldn't get to 120 degrees in North Dakota and that our storms are getting worse. So I'll say THIS again...I'm not totally dismissing global warming, but Al, when it comes to weather, SHUT THE FUCK UP. You do NOT know what the fuck you're talking about. Hurricane intensity runs in cycles, and it CAN get super hot in the Dakotas. It's called weather pattern extremes. They happen. They've BEEN happening for THOUSANDS of years. Central Park's highest temperature EVER, 106 degrees, occurred in 1936. I repeat, 1936. New England's most destructive hurricane was in 1938. Were these events of global fucking warming, AL?!?! Now go counsel your drug-addled son and get the fuck off my TV screen.

The Newark execution murders: I'm sickened & OUTRAGED, and you should be, too

Four college-age kids lined up, forced to kneel, and shot in the head. One somehow lived, though God knows what long-term damage she'll suffer. It's just incomprehensible. My blog from the other day describing MY rosy childhood memories? Well, this horror happened about 3 miles from where I grew up. So close...yet night and day. I understand how people in the ghetto -- as best as I possibly could-- and this wasn't even IN the worst part of Newark -- but I get how they feel isolated, hopeless, NOT CARED ABOUT. And, sadly, it's true to a degree. I know there's a large number of people "in the suburbs"...ok, WELL-TO-DO WHITES...who just shake their heads, say "isn't it awful?" and move on with their lives. Hell, i'm one of them to a degree. Murders in Newark aren't OUR problem. WE don't have to worry. Well, I care a great deal, and I wish I could convey that to, well, inner city blacks in Newark. I know how simplistic and pandering that may sound, but i'm an educated white guy who is outraged and heartbroken by what happens in Newark's largely black streets. The guns, the gangs, the drugs, the complete lack of respect for human life. I mean, I am LIVID. LIVID that kids can't even hang out front in the summer without worrying they may die on the streets and not wake up to see tomorrow. Can you IMAGINE living like that? I have no answers. I'm only one man...with a blog. What the hell COULD I do? Really. I don't mean to paint myself as the Great White Sympathetic Knight, while all other suburbanites are heartless bastards. I just know it makes me sick, outraged, and incredibly sad about the state of our world. WHY are guns so readily available? WHY?!?! This is an epidemic that SHOULD have our nation in an uproar. Jesus Christ, bring the National Guard to Newark's inner city...this is JUST as serious as the riots of '67. The good people NEED to take back the streets from the thugs. I'm rambling, I know. But one final thing...the father of one of the victims -- remarkably composed -- perhaps spoke the greatest truth -- it ALL goes back to GOOD PARENTING. If you're raised right, you won't BECOME a drug-addled, gun-toting gang member. It really IS that simple. Well, then you get into the issue of not EVERYONE being a good parent, don't you? Again, I have no easy answers. I just hope that these 3 latest deaths FINALLY spark SOME kind of I'VE HAD IT UP TO HERE!!! revolution among EVERYBODY in Newark. And that it spreads across the country to other bad areas. Idealistic, you say? Well, the alternative is too depressing. See, I told you i'm actually an optimist. Well, I just wanted to say SOMETHING about this miserably sad situation. Three promising lives...GOOD kids...gone. Killed like animals. I can't really do a damn thing about it, but I wanted to go on the record that it breaks my heart.

A (well deserved) lazy Saturday. Hell, I didn't even make my bed...

Woke up late. Quite late. Had a long breakfast. Dabbled online. Ran out to see fantastic BOURNE ULTIMATUM. Nibbled on smuggled crackers throughout. Sped home. Resumed eating. Plugged back online. Giddy joy ensued while setting up NEW CELL PHONE! Sent first text message EVER. I know. Continued eating and sitting online. Darkness fell. Took 12:45am shower, followed by 1am walk. Gazed at NYC skyline. Pondered past decade. Had more crackers once home. Here I sit writing about it. Can hear crickets chirping loudly. Beautiful night...75, low humidity, northerly wind. It's almost time for this day to end. It's been a wonderful day. Wonderful. Relaxing. Solo...largely. THREE'S COMPANY now! 2:32am. And the crickets' chirping soothes me...

Just call me Gary Bourne

Saw THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM today...$6 matinee...the audience was shockingly well-behaved. SUCH a great movie! RUN to your local theater! It is so ungodly rare that I recommend a film, but this entire trilogy has been just fantastic. Nerve-wracking action, wonderful scenery, a plot laymen can follow, some well-placed sarcasm, and a stellar cast. THIS is moviemaking at its finest. Seriously, SEE this film!! And I walked out saying to myself, "DAMN, THAT'S the life I should be living!" I think I want to be a spy...

Is it odd/pathetic/disturbing that I often find myself leaving DRAKE & JOSH on when I stumble across it?

Josh's frequent anger is very amusing. So are the various cliched nerd freaks. I don't know, it's just funny. That is, well written. Ok, and well acted, I guess, too. It's not appointment TV...just something i'm watching now as I eat my frozen pizza. And other times...

The way it is outside now...1:45am, 80 degrees...evokes 1983

I can't explain the smell and feel of it. Super tropical, including the refreshing breeze. It's just the epitome of an urban NJ summer. It takes me back to being 10-years-old and playing Kick the Can or Manhunt till after 11pm...the thrill of being out so late at such a young age. But we were all allowed. It was right out front...on a dead end street. And there was usually SOME authority figure/parent out watching us. Can't forget Freeze Tag. And if there wasn't a game going on, I'd just sit out there myself...either on a chair or on dad's Chevy. And I'd bring his ancient transistor radio with me. And The Police or Donna Summer would be on. And I'd be sipping iced tea. Maybe I'd be roller skating, too. I broke my wrist on August 5, 1983 around 7:30pm...a Friday night. I'm a date savant, I know. Fell backwards...on my skates. Better my wrist than my head to break the fall. Mom didn't believe me...thought I was whining. When I was still in agony past 10pm, she finally figured maybe I needed to hit the hospital. Damn cast itched like a sonofabitch. CUJO was released that August, I recall. VACATION came out earlier. The Warner Theater...hmm, it was either $4 or $3.50 for adult tickets, $2 or $1.50 for kids & seniors. Can you IMAGINE?! Danny's not only had our favorite pizza, but MY favorite video game...ASTEROID! I like remembering all this, but it's also scary. SAD scary. Because it's so vivid to me, yet it was 24 years ago. HOW can that be? The whole "life goes too fast" thing. What may be even scarier to you readers -- I sleep in the same bed I did then. Yup. And have the same dresser & same desk. In fact, a couple things ON and IN my desk have been there for 24 years. It's like the Lincoln Bedroom in here...I may soon put up ropes and charge admission. For tours, not sex. Am I officially a Crazy Eccentric yet? I'm equally about change AND consistency. Damn, all this from the SMELL and FEEL of the air outside. I'll always love you, 1983.

PRAISE AUGUST & TAX RELIEF!!

Oh, my FUCKING God!! I repeat, OH, MY FUCKING GOD!! I just casually went to my mailbox and was delighted beyond belief to see my Tenant Homestead Rebate tax check. But that's not why i'm excited. You ALWAYS get it on August 1, but somehow I went through all of today totally forgetting about it. I had precious little sleep and have a minor cold...my mind just wasn't on it, despite being destitute. So the first year (2003) that I applied for this, I got $33.33. Then it went up to $50 in 2004. Then it went DOWN to $25 the past TWO years. SO...naturally, always expecting the worst...I figured I'd get $25. Now, without going into painfully embarrassing financial specifics, let me say that the mere $25 had me euphoric and planning a sudden run to ShopRite. Are you sensing it was more when I opened the envelope? I'm still giddy with glee. I just CANNOT believe it. HOW in the name of God did I just get a tax check for...$175?!?!?! SEVEN times what I expected!!!!! I seriously almost feel like crying. I've looked at the check like 10 times to see if it's for real. I thought maybe I got someone else's by mistake. I don't know HOW the fuck they compute this yearly, and I don't CARE. All I know is that my life just got SO much easier in an instant. I just wish this had come a week earlier...much aggravation could've been avoided. August IS my month!!