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Some nutcase says that Wolfowitz is going to detonate a nuclear payload in Houston on Dec. 27 to consolidate Bush’s mandate and justify the upcoming invasion of Iran. But never mind that…

Horrors! The mercury apparently topped off at 37 degrees today, so Houstonians were complaining about the bitter cold and bundling up against the sub-Arctic excess. Me, I was perfectly comfortable with my hooded sweatshirt and leather cap. But we get to wear our heavy coats so rarely in this clime, people can’t be blamed for trotting them out at the slightest provocation.

Tonight is scheduled to be the coldest of this snap, getting down to somewhere in the high 20s, with the slightest chance – maybe as much as 30%, depending on who you listen to – of a snow flurry. Still, this is nothing compared to what other parts of the country are experiencing; but I’m still giddy over the prospect of that storybook Christmas morning, fire in the fireplace, snow on the ground.

Well, it’s still Houston, so any snow that arrives will look very pretty coming down, then melt immediately. The crackling logs next to my easy chair will quite do nicely, thank you. After all, we have a saying around here: “You don’t have to shovel humidity.”

The interesting thing is, I was checking our extended forecast at The Weather Channel, and it seems the day after Christmas, temperatures will be back up to the more seasonal upper 60s. Maybe I didn’t need to lay in all that firewood after all.

Maybe a cold snap lasting just long enough for me to have a fire on Christmas morning doesn’t really count as a Yuletide Miracle, but heck, I’ll take what I can get, and be grateful for it.

That’s enough for now. See you on the other side of the holiday. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and may God bless us all, every one.

December 23, 2004
Categories: Life's Rich Pageant . . Author: drfreex . Comments: Leave a comment

I’m working semi-feverishly, trying to get all my work-related writing done (or at least this phase of it) by the weekend of the 18th so I can take a week off for Christmas travel with a clear conscience. Don’t think I’ll quite make it, especially since I came home today to find my wife vomiting in the downstairs bathroom, and I’ll be pretending I’m a single parent (with one surprisingly mature and very sick child along with the standard six-year-old) for the next couple of days.

Not to mention that Half-Life 2 is teh awesom. As the young folk say.

In a mad attempt at writing something not related to nutrition or video games, I’ve put up a review for the bizarre Indonesian horror movie, Mystics in Bali, at my other endeavor, The Bad Movie Report. If you see only one movie about a woman’s head flying around with its entrails hanging below, looking for newborn babies to eat, this should probably be the one. Or maybe Polar Express, which I think is the same thing.

December 10, 2004
Categories: Life's Rich Pageant . . Author: drfreex . Comments: Leave a comment

When you’re like me, pushing 50, new personal milestones don’t tend to be good in nature – in fact, they’re to be actively dreaded. Oh, there are some upsides – first grandchild (still years in my future), perhaps – but rarely do they come as such a surprise, as did last night’s.

A bit of background: for close to six years, I worked at a dinner theater that performed murder mysteries on the weekend. I quit last summer, but agreed to sub in as needed over the holiday season. Last night was such an occasion, at a private party. Now, over the holidays, when a lot of offices hold their Christmas parties, the mystery of choice is one called Let’s Kill the Boss (big surprise, right?). Like a lot of these comedy murder mysteries, it’s populated by cartoon characters and humor less sophisticated than a Looney Tune’s. I had the peach role, the hateful boss of the title, which means I exit, festooned with various plastic knives, at the end of the second act and spend the remainder of the evening listening to my Nomad Zen.

But not last night. At the end of the first act, one patron came backstage (luckily, when no one was dressing – I nearly came to blows with a drunken patron last year over that particular breach of etiquette and good sense) and asked us to “tone down the sex stuff”. Now, the Boss show is considered our most blue show, and prime time television still meets or exceeds most of the stuff on display there, but heck, we figured out what needed to be excised in the next act.

We never got to it. In the middle of a complex comedy bit which was to lead up to my murder, two people rose from their seats and physically stopped the show. After a moment of confusion and no small amount of anger and bewilderment on my part, we changed into our civvies and eventually retired to the hotel bar, waiting for the patrons to finish their meals and leave so we could go in, pack up our show, store it, and go home ourselves.

Intriguingly, some of the folks in the room made a point of seeking us out and – well, not apologizing, as “I don’t know what their problem was, I was enjoying it” isn’t exactly an apology, but it went a long way toward dispelling my resentment. Doubtless the actual problems will eventually filter down the grapevine to me, but whatever the reason, the result will always be the same:

After 27 years of working in professional theater, I have played to houses that dwindled through the night. I have done shows for a house that started with twelve people and were reduced to five by show’s end (at curtain call, I shook each and every one of their hands). I have been at shows that have been cancelled due to sudden illness or lack of audience. But last night was the first, the very first time that an audience has risen from their seats during the show and called, “Hold! Enough!”

Then again, last night was also the first time I’ve had an apple martini, and that was good. Not quite balance in the universe, but I’ll take what I can get.

December 5, 2004
Categories: Life's Rich Pageant . . Author: drfreex . Comments: 1 Comment

Small victories do not make the evening news, but they are what makes life bearable.

1. In an hour, I should be signing off on my re-financing. I’ve groused about this a bit over at my Bad Movie Report 7th Anniversary Column, but it looks like it is finally coming to pass. Unless, like last time, we will get into the parking lot and receive a phone call telling us there are “issues”.

2. Sean Hannity has been banished back to the bowels of Hell. Well, not really; he has been moved from an afternoon slot on the local news radio station to a similar slot on another AM station, which also hosts Rush Limbaugh and, I guess, any number of other right-wing pundits. I would like to thank the liberal-controlled media for doing something for me, for a change.

3. God, I’m such a sap. Last Saturday, in 9 Chickweed Lane, uber-geek Amos finally kissed Edda. Today, in a continuation of that storyline, she returned the kiss with interest. It’s amazing (and, no doubt, a bit pathetic) how much a simple comic strip has brightened up my day.

Your regularly scheduled wailing and gnashing of teeth will resume tomorrow.

November 15, 2004
Categories: Life's Rich Pageant . . Author: drfreex . Comments: Leave a comment