Scattershot

Sometimes I figure it's in my best interests to just write. Nothing planned, nothing germinating...just lob some lousy words out to the information superhighway. I figure I'd see if anything interesting happens.

First off, I'll brag a little bit...or more accurately, "gab about famous people I've seen." In the past couple of weeks I played poker with Harold Perrineau from Lost, saw Andy Dick coming out of a video store in Silverlake, and got to watch Scott Bakula, Candice Bergen, Eliza Dushku, Joss Wheden, Brad Garrett, and Michael Hitchcock work on set. Some of those guys I've only known recently, but some of them were pretty much icons for me growing up (I must have watched nearly every episode of Quantum Leap). It's something I almost take for granted now -- working and living in and amongst famous people. But, I still get googly eyed around the right folks...which makes me feel terribly uncool.

Second off, my 10 year high school reunion happened sometime last week, I think. I don't know...obviously I didn't go. Several of my MySpace friends did go, apparently...though the party seemed to mainly consist of people I was "friendly" with, but not my actual high school friends. High school was an interesting time for me -- I never really identified with a single group. I did drama, but I never really got into the culture, or socialized with my fellow theater people outside of school. Same goes for band. My actual close friends were mainly a loose-knit association of intelligent, sarcastic wise-cracking nihilists -- not the sort of people who you'd see lining the walls of the 10 year reunion. But I'm sure the people who attended had a good time -- perhaps The Hunt can elaborate further...when he's back from Burning Man.

Third off, I'm still waiting patiently for the upswing of the "great wheel of good fortune" to come 'round again. This month has been difficult -- I'm not going to lie to you. Most of my problems are really just money-related, but stressing over that has surely been responsible for this nasty infestation I seem to have sprouted on my temples:



For those of you without advanced degrees in trichology, that is a series of several gray hairs that have begun an invasion...just above the ear. Maybe it's the climate here, maybe it's the worry, or maybe it's just my dastardly genetics (thanks ma and pa). Either way, my body is slowly deteriorating; gravity always wins. And to top it off, somehow, unfairly, I happen to have married a woman who just gets prettier and prettier...

Fourthly, my professional career seems to have stalled for the time being. I want to blame things on the possible SAG Strike, or my own personal lack of funds, or me putting things off until I return from Europe. But the reality is that...try as I might, I'm just not making any discernable headway at present. I dunno'...it'll take more than this little dry spell to fully discourage me, but it is a teence frustrating...honestly.

But, this whining goes contrary to the "pump it up" blog I posted in Bellingham, so I will cease and desist. But really...does anyone "desist" something without first "ceasing" it? I mean...has desist ever been used in a sentence independant of "cease?" Apparently, only by the California Department of Corporations and India.

But enough is enough. I promise I'll post something with better updates next time -- you may get to see me on BOSTON LEGAL! ISN'T THAT GREAT!?!?!? Stuff like that...it'll be amazing. Until then, here's a picture of a flapping hippie bird:

Advice Time

A lot of people (no one) writes to me and asks, "Hey Tyler Rhoades! How about some advice for me?! I'm moving to LA! AND I'M JUST A CAT!!!! LOLOL!!!

Well, I'll tell you what, I'm no teacher. There was a traumatic time when I pretended to be a teacher at a Vacation Bible School...when I was about 17. See...my sister was the real teacher, I was just her lackey who pretended to be an authority figure, but really just wanted to play with all of the awesome preschool toys (I still wish I had some of those toys today).

Anyhow, Sharla had to leave about 20 minutes early from class...leaving me with a room full of 6 year olds, no sense of real authority, and a classroom filled with cool toys. So what did I do? I broke out a bucket full of "bean bags." No real game plan...just, "Hey kids! Here's some bean bags!!!"

Of course it started slow...kids trickling over...curious. Little tosses in the air turned to longer tosses across the floor. Pretty soon, an entire handfull of beanbags was being thrown 10 feet in the air, landing dangerously in and amongst the rabid, bean-bag-starved children. Over the shrieks and cries of pain following bean-bag-sized welts, I commanded: "Okay everyone! Beanbags back in the bucket!"

I suck at teaching.

But, I do have a few nuggets of wisdom to dispense.


Do Not Assume That All Stand-Up Comedy Will Be Funny. Recently our group went out for a a fun, frivilous night of karaoke. To our horror, we realized that, from 8-10 PM at Sardo's Bar and Grill, there is something called the "Casting Couch Comedy Show." This is where one of eight "comedians" gets up on the "stage" to perform comedy for the other seven "comedians" in the restaurant, and anyone unfortunate enough to stumble in during their act.

Well, our group of six just happened to be victims of that second group. And, because there were six of us, and we obviously weren't there to see the "comedy" going on (due to the presence of three attractive women in our group), we were singled out by two of the the drunken drug-users posing as "stand-ups,"and very sloppily "roasted." A few hilarious, biting critiques (censored for my sweet, doe-eyed, innocent family members):

-- "Hey man, what are you drinking tonight?" "Um...water." "Water? Jesus Christ [son of God]! What a [feline]!"

-- "So are you guys married? Or are you just [fornicating]?"

-- Regarding a woman who went to the restroom. "If she's in there for more than four minutes, she's taking a [poop].

And, when they decided to take a break from their hilarious rip-job, they told a couple of "hilarious" jokes. The two examples I can recall:

-- So, I'm [breast] [fornicating] my [female dog] girlfriend the other day, and I [finished the act untraditionally, above the neck]. She asked me "Why don't we ever do anything I like doing?" And I said, "Fine, I'll stop punching you in the face."

-- You guys ever [fornicate] with a[n] [obese] [baby hen]? It's like moving a couch!

I'll pause for a little bit while the gale of laughter dies down. Anyway, if you loved those little bits of comedy, check out more from Robbie Pickard (the breast-fornicating Mitch Hedberg wanna-be) and the "headliner" Fader Fowler (who drunkenly handed our entire table a bunch of his business cards during karaoke).

Needless to say, the rest of my night I was a little off-put. Not because a couple of comedians had had the audacity to make fun of our group, but because they had done so without being funny. I think "Bad Stand-Up" has just replaced "Bad Improv" as my new least favorite performance art.

Finally on to my second piece of advice:

If Someone In A Crappy Pickup Nudges Your Car While You're Sitting At A Red Light in Inglewood, Let It Go. Yes, after about 8 months surrounded by the worst drivers in the United States, my little Prizm finally made contact with the enemy. A red truck that was actually stopped harmlessly behind me at a stop light gave what could only be described as a "love nudge" to my rear bumper. I waved in what I hope was interpreted as a "Don't worry about it!" way, and continued on my way. Seemed like a no-brainer, but in case you are faced with a similar dilemma...feel free to just drive away from that little fooferaw.

Anyhow, it's late, and I've got to appear on Private Practice tomorrow...so...for now...adios from the Angel of Los!