More from the movies

When did JC Penny's start selling Nirvana shirts? Courtney Love should be dragged through the streets by rabid wolves before being beaten by Kurt's graveside.
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Jurassic Fight Club

Waiting to see Mamma Mia and they're showing a preview for a History Channel show called Jurassic Fight Club where they hypothecize and re-enact what would happen with two dinos throwing down.

Money, baby. Pure money
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Top Five Friday: An Olympic Edition

Damn. I have no way of cuing up the Olympic March for this post.

I LOVE the Olympics - absolutely love them. Winter, summer, whatever. It's the most amazing two weeks of sporting spectacle imaginable. So, you can imagine I'm superstoked for my first time watching them in HD. I can't wait!

So, with that in mind, I proudly present...

My Top Five Favorite Olympic Sports!

NOTE: I have disqualified basketball from these rankings because it's basically a continuation of the NBA season at this point.

5. Volleyball
Not beach - the madness that is on-court volleyball. I'm always amazed by the crazy rallies they get going, the speed of the serves, the insanity of the spikes. It's so much fun to watch.

4. Track And Field
I'm not really sure why I enjoy this one. There's not a lot of excitement in seeing people run in a circle - still better than NASCAR though... maybe not quite as cool as horse racing. I do enjoy watching a World Record get busted though.

3. Diving
Seriously. All those crazy twists and flips and spins and shit. Amazing. Plus, I like being able to figure out by the end of the competition what is and isn't "too much splash on entry." Hrrm. That sounds a bit dirty actually. Mental note to use that in a screenplay.

2. Swimming
I'm not really sure how or why swimming ends up a more exciting race than on foot but it so, so is. Especially when you get these nutcases that are going for like... ten medals in the same competition.

And my #1 favorite Olympic event...

1. Gymnastics
This is a tough one to admit. If you claim you're a fan of men's gymnastics, you highly imply that you have same-sex tendencies. If you claim you're a fan of women's gymnastics, most people look at you like you're a pedophile. If you claim you're a fan of both...

...you might be a Boy Scout leader! Wocka wocka wocka!

Game on... America!

And So It Is

The eagle is in flight.

Elvis has left the building.

The fat cat chews tabaccy at midnight.
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Love Songs On The KOST

Southern California readers of this blog know all too well that the LA easy listening station, KOST FM, used to do (still does?) "Love Songs On The KOST" where people would call in and make really cheesy dedications to be read over the air in a soft, soothing voice.

"Kevin wants to dedicate Billy Joel's 'Just The Way You Are' to Carol - he's missing you and wants you to know that no matter what, he loves you just the way you are."

This is the YMBB version of Love Songs On The KOST as I give a little shoutout to someone who needs some friendly advice. I heard this song on random on my iPod driving in to work this morning and it made me think of someone who should be listening to it (and hearing it to quote Wesley Snipes in White Men Can't Jump) in my stead.

So, to whom this one concerns... let the lovely Ms. Kate Nash provide you with a little bit of enlightenment on this late August evening.

An Autobiographical Summary

So, as readers of this blog are aware, I'm under the gun to complete my application for a writing contest. The entry needs to be postmarked by Friday so time is ticking. Of course, the script is done - so that puts the hard part on the shelf.

But there's a string of things that need to be done with it that are proving more difficult than I expected.

Notarized? Check.

Application? Check.

Registration? Check.

Summary of interest? Ch- wait, huh? What the fuck is that? Alright, let's skip it.

Autobiographical summary? Fuck me. Are you serious? I have no desire to write about my life. If I thought my life was interesting enough to entertain someone, I would have written a script based on my life and not danced in the creative world. I am not a biographer - and by no means am I an autobiographer.

I wonder if these judges have a sense of humor. Could I get by with the Copperfield quote used in Interview With The Vampire, "I was born, I grew up...?"

I can't imagine these poor souls dredging through entry after entry of "During my undergrad years at..." while people try to tie in any and all writing efforts they made over the years into their summary. I pity the fool.

I was born... I grew up...

I like the sound of that.

Writers Block

It's an odd thing but I find myself struggling a bit lately to find the words to fill these posts - a fact I'm sure many of you have noticed from the plethora of Youtube posts or random mutterings about Manny.

I'm not sure if it's a problem that I dumped so much creativity into the screenplay [which will be mailed in the next couple days, btw - yay me!] that I can't think of anything to write here. I find myself "stuck" in other creative endeavors as well.

I've been playing with iPhoto and iMovie a lot lately - soaking up some visual creativity so maybe that has drained me a bit as well.

Maybe I'm not reading enough.

Maybe I'm watching too much soap opera with recycled plots and sometimes shaky acting.

Maybe I need to find some of those "creative exercises."

Maybe I need to find some movies that make my mind tick.

It's a frustrating thing, you know? I've been on a roll for months with daily postings but with a lack of quality posts lately, I almost feel like I'm cheating a bit. Ehhh. Maybe I'm just whining.

Suggested topics for discussion are welcome!

F5! F5! F5!

In honor of Brock Lesnar's third MMA match taking place this weekend, I thought some of you might be curious to see what his first MMA fight was like...

More On Manny

Man, you non-Dodger fans must be pulling your hair out reading this blog this week but... well, I can't quite help it. Like I said, there's a buzz in the air... a kind of magic surrounding the team that hasn't been felt in a long, long while.

I just can't seem to find anything else that I want to write about - not yet anyways. I'm sure it'll come and come soon but for now, it's all about Number 99.

There has been a lot written about Manny over the past few days - some of it right here on this page - but this is one of my favorite pieces.

Some highlights...

Maaannnyyy, Maaannnyyy," came the chorus, ringing through the left-field bleachers. "Maaannnyyy! Maaannnyyy!"

Manny Ramirez, No. 99 in his baggy Dodgers uniform, stood at the plate.
A pitch came.

He swung.

Thwap!

The ball lofted from his bat and traced a smooth arc in the sky, heading directly for the patch of seats where I happened to be sitting with a group of the Dodgers' most rambunctious fans. When it landed just feet from us -- Ramirez's first Dodgers homer -- the bleachers shook with euphoria.

"Maaannnyyy! Maaannnyyy! Maaannnyyy!"

Helping lead the chorus was Gabriel Ruiz, a 25-year-old from South L.A. who is also a left-field, cheap-seats lifer, on hand for every game he can possibly make.

...

Sitting on splintered seats, Ruiz and his fellow Dodgers loyalist Renato Casas told me Saturday night they feel like they've died and gone to heaven.

"Surprised isn't the right word, really," said Casas, leaning in to speak to me just after the beginning of the game, which turned out to be a 4-2 Dodgers win. "More like, I just couldn't believe it. I thought I was dreaming."

"I mean, we're talking Manny Ramirez," Ruiz added, tugging his Dodgers cap. "Manny Ramirez? He's the best hitter in baseball. It's that simple. . . . Trust me, one man can make a difference."

...

I hated to be a killjoy but amid all of this positivity, all this belief, I spoke of my skepticism. It's hard for me to imagine this team getting much better just because it now has a left fielder who trudged to Hollywood with a shaky glove, a .299 batting average and 20 home runs this year, even if he is a lock for the Hall of Fame. Ramirez, 36, isn't exactly in his prime, I reminded.

No way, you gotta keep the faith, Ruiz told me. I noticed that he was also the only person in the stands wearing an Andruw Jones jersey.

"One man can make a difference," said Ruiz, who often sits in the stands with a blue Mohawk skullcap perched on his head. "You gotta believe."

...

Look, I said, this is the ultimate .500 team, a group of underachievers whose slogan should be "wait till next year."

They eyed me like I was either nuts, or simply a Giants fan about to get mauled.

This is the year, they vowed. This is the year.

We laughed together. We turned to the green field and the large crowd. Ramirez was up. He walked to the plate, swung, and the ball he struck popped off his bat as if shot from a bazooka, landing just a few rows from us.

When the chorus of cheers and the high-fives died down, Ruiz spoke up.

"You see?" he said. "One man can make a difference!"

Caught up in a great moment, I found myself agreeing. Sometimes it's good to be among the true fans, and to believe like they do.

At one point this year, a very wise man repeatedly said about his favorite basketball team - "You've gotta believe."

Well, that one didn't turn out so well in the end, I suppose...

But the believing never ends.

One man can make a difference. If you don't believe it, give Kirk Gibson a call.