Lady In Red

Does anyone remember the Carmen Sandiego craze in the early 1990s? Why have we let her off so easy? I mean, she's a criminal! It's like we just gave up after she started traversing through time in Where In Time Is Carmen Sandiego?.

Seriously guys, she wears nothing but red. ALL red. Surely she can't blend in with such a limited wardrobe. We shouldn't have to know so much about geography or history to find and capture her. We have Google now. And eyeballs that help us to distinguish a person wearing ALL RED.

I'm very disappointed in us all.

The Finale and What I've Been Doing Since...

Just to let everyone know...

My trip to California was splendorifously grand. I learned a lot from a lot of people about a lot of what there is to know about the audio post production industry. If you are wondering why there are no photos from Los Angeles, it is because I was shot by a gang member and my camera was stolen.

And thanks to Señor Glen, I have been entertaining myself with Monk-e-Mail. I haven't sent any to anyone yet, I've just been typing stuff in and watching as the monkey says whatever I want him to say. Here are some of my favorite lyrics ever written about Butt, spoken with true style and pride. Enjoy.

The Epic Journey

We figured we would sleep in on Wednesday, seeing as how we had nearly killed ourselves with little sleep, little food, and tons of exercise. We were tired.

We had already planned to drive from San Francisco to Los Angeles using the Pacific Coast Highway; what better way to travel than with some of the most beautiful landscapes in America? Maybe if we were being driven. That would be better. In a limo. With a hot tub. Or maybe if we were being paid to drive, that would be nice.

But we didn't have all of that. We had each other's company, a yellow Jeep, and a bag of Sun Chips we bought from a gas station. We were going on a road trip, in the most primitive sense. And we were going to enjoy it, dang it.

It began at 11:00 AM with a detour, an unexpected kink in our "schedule" that would set us back 30 minutes. I use quotation marks only because our schedule was simple: drive to Los Angeles. We had no reason to hurry. So, when we got confused looks from the gas station attendants after telling them that L.A. was our destination ("You're going where on the PCH?"), we laughed it off and told them "Oh, we're not worried. We have all day." In jest, they replied, "and all night."

In jest. Or so we thought.

As soon as we got on the PCH, I realized that we just couldn't go the whole way without stopping for pictures and to soak in the scenery.

Érico, the driver, informed me that because we were stopping and because we were on winding roads behind slow drivers, we were averaging 40 miles in two hours. Again, we were cool with that. No hurry, enjoy scenery. But we were kind of worried about gas. It's not like there are tons of places to get off of the PCH, so once you decide to get on, you had better be certain you want to stay on for a long time. We never got close to running out, but to be sure we stopped at one of the few stations along the highway. It was a full service station and we told the guy to put in $10. That gave us about...hmmm...2 gallons! Breathe in, breathe out. That's alright. The scenery was beautiful.
After about six hours of driving, we had to stop and fill up both the tank and our bellies. You can imagine how much money we dropped for a turkey sandwich. A sign posted at the café had a bunch of cities and sites that were coming up on the PCH. At the very bottom, in menacing, 12-point, Times New Roman lettering: "Los Angeles - 5 hours."

We gave in. We were loving the trip and all there was to see, but we had to get there quicker so we could get a little sleep before our 8:20 meeting the next morning. After getting off the PCH and driving for another four and a half hours or so, we made it to our hotel room alive, in one piece, and dead tired.

Like I said, it was a road trip in the most primitive sense.

San Francisco: Day Three

Today (which was really two days ago. The internet doesn't grow on trees, you know.) was yet another wonderful day and began with a drive to a local bakery. We would've eaten the delicious breakfast that our hotel so graciously gives for free, but they so graciously ran out of food before we got there. And we would've walked to the bakery, but we had decided that walking was overrated. We would later change our minds.

We bought our food and walked a block over to a park to eat it. I must say, that bakery makes the best freaking blueberry muffins I have every tasted. The pigeons must have known what I was eating because they were ganging up to take over my tasty morning treat. Anyway, even though I didn't care enough to take a picture or to remember the name of the establishment, I would still like to say thank you for feeding me such delicious baked goods. I will never forget you...okay that was probably stretching it, but I won't forget you anytime soon.

We knew we had an appointment at a studio at 3:00, so we decided to finally visit Golden Gate Bridge before 3:00. I don't know if any of you have had the same experience, but it was incredible to look out over the bay from the lookout point and see everything.
Then Érico had the idea to walk across the bridge. He said he had always wanted to. I had never given thought to walking across Golden Gate. Brazilian, American. Potato, Potato. So we walked across. All the way to a gift shop happily stationed on the other side. They sell shirts that read, "I walked the Golden Gate Bridge" like it is an attraction at an amusement park. Big deal. It's only about 1.5 miles. I want the shirt that reads, "I walked everywhere in San Francisco instead of driving and now I can't fit into my jeans anymore." And it could have a picture of my mammoth legs. Or something like that.

After walking back across and paying the $5 toll to drive back into San Francisco, we made a stop at the Palace of Fine Arts, which is one of the most mystic places I've seen here. I mean, it looks like it was constructed centuries ago. I'm anxious to hear if anyone of you knows what it is for and how it was transported from ancient Rome to San Francisco. Regardless, it is a very serene place that we kind of lost time in; we had to high-tail it out of there to make it to our appointment.


The appointment went well, once again, and afterwards we decided to "eat." I use quotation marks only because I have somewhat forgotten what "eat" is. I have a newfound meaning for "walk" though.

And that's pretty much where our day ended. We went out later that night for pizza, but we were exhausted, so we drove. I think the parking spaces on the side of the road are more like an art exhibit: a permanent installment of various cars. On second thought, maybe we should've walked. On third thought, no.

We were up and down those roads for quite some time before we finally found a vacant space. We were suspicious at first (a vacant space?! Is this reserved for a mob boss?), but quickly gave in to its alluring comfort.

Our time in San Francisco was something I won't forget any time soon, mostly because of my developed legs. After all of the miles we walked in the city, needless to say, I slept like a well-fed baby.

San Francisco: Day Two

Interesting note: as I'm writing this, I am also watching The Rock on television, which was filmed mostly in San Francisco. But I digress...

Today started with a lovely complimentary breakfast in the modest lobby of our quaint hotel. It was a fancy selection of fine muffins, doughnuts, danishes, and fresh fruit. Thank you, Francisco Bay Inn. I can count on you to fill my stomach with early morning sugary-sweetness. And a banana.

After we had our fill, we "dressed up" and made our two mile walk from the room to one of the studios we visited. It was a pleasant walk, meandering through quiet residential streets, up and down gentle, rolling hills. We made it to the studio with time to spare and a foreshadow of our day to come.

The meeting went wonderfully, and after about an hour we walked back onto the streets, eager to utilize our tender legs. We were completely elated with the weather, especially having been "rained" on the previous evening. I use quotation marks only because it was more like being hosed down by several annoying children while standing in a wind tunnel refrigerator.

We made a quick stop at pier 7 to take a picture of the Bay Bridge and a rather timid seagull. I tried to make it feel less threatened by saying hello; he pooped near my foot. To everything, there is a season.
We called another studio at lunch, hoping to set up a time to visit. Success! Yet, we had about three hours to kill. Naturally, we take a walk through Chinatown. Naturally.
I think we may have found a warp to Chinatown (like in Super Mario Bros., only without the pipes and mushrooms that make you grow), because when we decided to move on and see some of the financial district, we would always somehow end up right back in Chinatown. It would be nice to have one of those warps in the room right about now; I could really go for some lo mein.
Eventually, we gave up trying to escape and decided to wait out the rest of our time at a park.

The second meeting went well, yet didn't last as long; we had a lot of time to sight-see and fein homosexuality, which is quite easy to do in San Francisco. Pretty much all you have to do for that is walk beside another guy or pose on a bench with the camera on a ten second timer.
The rest of the day was spent near the beautiful bay of San Francisco. We walked to Pier 39, which happened to be more than just a pier. In fact, it gave us great views of the Bay Bridge, Alcatraz, and the Golden Gate Bridge. We enjoyed watching the sea lions wrestle for position on the platforms. I liked how this one sea lion half-lay on its back. Looking at it, I ponder: does it have bones? The Pier also had some shops and restaurants and other things people with "money" might be able to enjoy. I use quotation marks because it is more theoretical than it is actual.


Then we walked the area of Fisherman's Wharf. Again, theoretical.
Just past the Wharf is Ghirardelli Square, which I can only assume is the home to a singular piece of square chocolate. Whatever it is, it is in a perfect area to catch the sun set behind the Golden Gate Bridge. Watch out! I'm about to get artistic in this piece!


Now, I know these photos might create in your heart and soul feelings of serenity, but if you could have felt the incredible pain I was feeling in my legs and feet at the time I took these pictures, you might feel differently. All I have to say is: watch out for my sexy buns and thighs, I just walked 200 miles!

San Francisco: Day One

As some of you may know, I am currently in California...San Francisco to be direct. Whether you care or not, I will be posting a day-by-day photo diary of sorts to show my fellow East coasters what life is like on the other side of the Mississippi. On Wednesday, Érico (the crazy Brazilian with whom I am traveling) and I will be driving down the Pacific Coast Highway to Los Angeles.

Although it may sound like we are on vacation, we are, in fact, here on "business." I use quotation marks only because we have not yet entered the "business" world; we are here simply to feel out the area and to "tour" some post-production "facilities."

"Quotation marks."

Ok...on with the show.
Our first day in San Fran, or "Ol' Franny," as I sometimes prefer to call it, began on Lombard Street, location of the "Crookedest Street in the America" or "the World" or some such claim. Whatever.

First of all, we had to hike about a quarter mile uphill to get to get there. Second of all, well...there is no second of all. However, our exhaustion was quickly extinguished once we got to the top of Lombard and had the opportunity to look down at this winding road. Que Linda, as Érico would say.
He would also say something like "presizo mijar" and other things that the Sims might say.

Anyway, the road is crooked. Get over it.




In case you weren't aware, the roads are quite steep. Here, I save the day by holding up this enormous SUV. I quickly realized that I couldn't hold it up forever, and once I walked away I had to place a stabilization spell on the huge Tahoe to keep it from rolling over. Anyway, in case you are new to the area, they have this helpful warning to keep you on your toes.














Then, after a quick break for a tasty brew and a photo opportunity with a local Street Dweller (who apparently chose to remain anonymous), we jumped on the cable car to begin our trip back to the room.

And thus ended our wonderful day in a wonderful city. I'll keep you posted on what happens throughout the week in this, the great state of California.

You Can't Watch Just One...Season

Have you been enjoying the outside air too much? Have you grown tired of filling your day with meaningful tasks and useful errands? Are you fed up with being happy, sociable, and physically fit? Well, are you in luck!

For those of us who can't stand the beautiful sight nor the warming comfort of our sun, comes this incredible, action-packed, Emmy-nominated show that critics call "amazing" (The Herald), "cool" (The Daily Reader), and "neat" (Windy). 24 is a once in a lifetime, heart-stopping roller coaster ride of a show starring Kiefer Sutherland as Counter Terrorist Unit agent Jack Bauer.

Available to rent or buy, season 1 of 24 will offer hours upon hours of mindless fascination as you sit lazily upon your couch or recliner. The results are astonishing. Janice claims to have turned off her phone, and leaves the house only to drive to the closest rental store to get the next DVD in the series. Jim says he once stayed indoors watching 24 for 12 hours straight, gaining 4.5 pounds and developing a mild decubitus ulcer from sitting. And sources say a man in Omaha has reportedly forgotten how to produce words with his mouth after he bought the first 4 seasons and went on a 24 marathon, watching each episode back to back until he was caught up.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is what we have been waiting for: a new addiction.

Here's An Idea...

I think it would be a good marketing plan if airlines used the chorus of John Fogerty's "Centerfield" to advertise their economy class seating. You know, make it sound like a party.

Put me in coach, I'm ready to play today.