Everyone has a childhood story about an actor, musician or random celebrity who they knew before they were famous. I, for one, stole Rachel Ray’s boyfriend back in the day when I was hot enough to pull that kind of thing off. But I digress.
Today’s actors, writers and directors of up-and-coming Petrichor Cinema are definitely a group of wunderkinds to watch. More than just a cinematic garage band, this junior team of talented actors and filmmakers bring a fresh slant to indie film comedy. (more…)
Like every good middle child, Junior was beyond not happy when he found out that I wrote a post about his brother, Prince Charming and not him. Not wanting to tempt fate with another phone call from his school as a result of his attention seeking behavior, I promised Junior I’d write a post about him today. Yeah, easier said than done.
First, he insisted there be pictures because as he puts it he’s, “dead sexy.” The problem is I can never keep the boy in clothes (he’d be naked 24/7 if I let him), so pictures of him are hard to come by. I decided to include these pictures from when he was nine years-old as they do a great job of summing up the first half of Junior’s personality, which is an all encompassing love of music.
Now, onto the second half. It would take all day to list every consequence of his thrill seeking, sometimes oppositional, always comedic personality. So I think the best way to sum up Junior’s second half is to list every creature that has ever bitten, pinched, snapped or stung him (I left off obvious ones like black flies or mosquitos).
Wasps, yellow jackets, hornets, etc.
Scorpions (small Florida scorpions, not the big evil ones)
Fire ants (fell into a pile of them. It was awful).
Grub (I think. He was digging in the dirt and pulled this small, white circular thing off his finger. It bled like crazy).
Gila Monster (needed shots for this one)
Non-venomous snakes (not sure what kind. It was a friend’s pet)
Baby snapping turtle
Crayfish (crawdads, mudbugs, etc).
Shark (not a great white but a Florida sand shark. It left a small, dog sized/shark mouth shaped bite on his foot. He hates that the scar faded).
Horseshoe crab (stepped on its barbed tail).
Sea Gull (tried to rescue it and it snapped).
Barracuda (caught it fishing, stuck his finger in its mouth on a dare).
* If you ask him he’ll tell you that this was the one that hurt the most. Miraculously lifeguards identified it as a Portuguese Man-O-War and not a jellyfish, because first aid differs greatly between the two.
Luckily he’s never been bitten by simple things like bats, chipmunks or squirrels since a bite from one of them requires rabies shots. I’m sure there’s more, but this is all I can think of at the moment. He’s also been impaled on bicycle handlebars, but reckless teenage injuries are a post for another day.
TODAY IS THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF MY BLOG! TO COMMEMORATE THIS AUSPICIOUS OCCASION I HAVE DECIDED TO RERUN MY VERY FIRST BLOG POST.
PLEASE TO ENJOY…
So yeah, I wrote a book.
I must have been high when I wrote it because there’s no other explanation I can give for my 120,000 word upper YA novel where the only noun I used more than “boner” was “blood.” It goes without saying that I’m self-published. I didn’t even try to submit it traditionally. Can you just imagine the poor agent who gets my query letter?
“My novel, THE GODS OF ASPHALT is complete at 120,000 words and is the first in a series of five books that for some reason I’ve decided to write out-of-order. Each one is told from the point of view of a teenage male protagonist who has exactly zero supernatural powers (unless you consider perpetual erections a superpower). Oh, and it also has Spanish subtitles.”
On the good side, if you’re like me and are just a little too into music, motorcycles and all around badassery this is the book for you. If you’re not, I’m sure Jodi Picoult’s got a blog somewhere. You can find the opening to chapter one at the top of the page under the tab GOA REVIEWS and you can find my book on line at:
First there was elementary school where he was expelled from Kindergarten for setting off the fire alarm and causing the Fire Department to respond not once, not twice, but three times in one week. Somebody wanted to take a ride on the engine.
The next eight years were a blur of parent-teacher meetings and organized after school activities, all designed to burn off his excess energy. You can imagine how ecstatic his father and I were when he managed to graduate from the eighth grade and went on to play high school football.
High school brought new concerns in the form of girls. “Prince Charming” isn’t a name I came up with– it was bestowed upon him by his female classmates who responded to his reputation for being gentlemanly. You better believe I take full credit for teaching him that.
And while Prince Charming was a great kid he struggled academically and worked for every grade he got. Everyday his father and I worked right along side him to get him where he needed to go. When he took that walk up to the podium to accept his diploma, there wasn’t a dry eye in our family. My son has come a long way from the first time we held him to letting him go today.
To the right is the first picture I ever took of my son Michael (he’s a man now so I guess I can say his name). The picture is of him with his father at three days old (Yeah, I’m onto you, HR. Don’t think I didn’t notice you wearing my Doctor Feelgood concert tee shirt. I knew you had it!)
It’s kind of frightening to think that my son is older today than HR was in this picture. Both HR and I take pride in raising a kid who made better choices than we did. We can only hope to say the same thing about Junior someday. Yeah, I’m not holding my breath.
*** CONGRATULATIONS MICHAEL ***
A Chinese Restaurant where a mother and her son, Junior, are enjoying dinner.
A waiter delivering food.
WAITER: “Thank you very much. Enjoy your meal.”
The Mother returns the thank you as Junior eyes the waiter suspiciously.
Exit the waiter.
Junior’s unbroken gaze follows the waiter the length of the return walk to the kitchen.
The Mother, confused, asks Junior what he’s thinking.
A look of contempt crosses Junior’s face as he leans across the table and whispers:
“Worst. Ninja. EVER.”
My real world life is such a circus that at times I find it hard to believe it’s not really some pre-scripted reality show set to make higher powers roar with laughter. Don’t believe me? Well here’s an example:
A family of five strolls down the fairway of carnival. The smell of fried dough and the musical stylings of a local garage band permeate the warm night air. In the lead is youngest daughter BabyGirl, holding a rainbow flashing scepter and donning a white fringed cowboy hat won for her by her father. Following closely is oldest son Prince Charming, angst-ridden, attempting his best Edward Cullen impression. Last in line is middle child, Junior. All are walking at a leisurely pace through the crowd until…
ENTER THE CATALYST:
Suddenly, to the horror of the parents, the first few notes of Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline pour out of the large speakers framing the stage behind them. Both adults catch each others gaze, knowing full well what’s to come.
As if in a reoccurring nightmare that they are powerless to stop, mother and father turn slowly to look at Junior who himself is staring at Prince Charming, his eyes wild with evil contemplation. In slow motion the father reaches out for Junior as the mother shouts, “NOOO!”
But it is too late.
Charging forward, Junior snatches BabyGirl’s hat off her head, places it on his own and begins to dance, bump and grind style against the side of his much older, much larger brother’s leg. The howls of laughter from passers-by do not deter Junior, and this brave soldier pushes on, committed to the cause, straight on until the phrase, “touching me, touching you..”
Location: The local Funeral Home….