Aftermath

Yesterday, in the course of describing the Super Bowl party I was to attend, I also mentioned the comedy sketch I'd written that was to be staged that evening at iO West in Hollywood. I was optimistic about its prospects for success, and somewhat fixated on the practical consideration of acquiring some props for it. I was giddy about being at least temporarily in the number of those hardy professionals who write and act in the show weekly.

The show is now over, and my sketch has come and gone. Tomorrow, the video of it will be made available, but for now it lives only in my memory, as do my impressions. The idea of the sketch was about the one member of the president's cabinet who each year must skip the State of the Union speech as a precaution in case tragedy were to strike and wipe out the federal government wholesale. I imagined that person might feel left out, and I related the whole thing to being an unpopular high schooler.

Half And Half

It's the Super Bowl today, and indeed by now it may have started already. More likely is that the endless pageantry will delay kickoff well beyond what it would have been. The humble game buckles under all the weight of the spectacle that is heaped upon it. In any case, it's a very happy day for me. I have, as I said yesterday, a comedy sketch that I wrote being staged at a major comedy theater in Hollywood tonight. As I write this, I'm planning to be at a Super Bowl party hosted by friends, but I will probably have to leave it well before I'd like to in order to get to the show.

Before I go, however, I will have made and presented the jalapeno poppers that were a success at a couple of previous social engagements. I must thank my mother for getting me to make them once back home, because having that as a go-to for a party is a real feather in my cap (as they incessantly said in "Catch-22"). I feel it may even be somewhat expected that I make the poppers, which (if true and not fantasy) is gratifying.

No, Thanks

On Sunday the Emmys were held, and if I know anything about it I have my aggressively live-tweeting friends to be thankful for. If they were content to live in the moment, I'm sure I'd be ignorant of the whole thing now. Certainly I was content to be ignorant of it. There aren't very many shows that I have made any effort to watch with regularity. This has really always been the case, with the exception of the stretch of time during which I had cable and a DVR.

Not only did people issue a real-time comment on every single thing that drew their attention (instead of, I assume, speaking to the friends at least some of them must have been watching the broadcast with), they did so almost invariably with a negative slant. I find it rather puzzling that someone would dislike a show so much and, instead of turning it off, just growing angrier and angrier. I guess I don't get people.

Good Night. Good Night!

Last night I was at a burlesque show, and that was a pretty good time. I had not been to any in a while, but about three months ago I had a rare free Thursday night, and the show I attended then rekindled my affection for burlesque. What's not to like, anyway? There's fantastic dancing which really conveys a narrative, there's music, and there's comedy. Often the lines blur, or maybe that's the alcohol, of which I'm also fond.

Yesterday's show really was something. There was pole dancing, there was a comedian (or as some would say of a female comedian, a "comedienne") who I love, and I wound up incorporated in a performance myself. I attribute that to my penchant for dressing up these days. There's a certain quality of sophistication to burlesque that makes my usual grubby clothes seem unacceptable, and so I put on a suit.

Game On

The other day, I found myself in a casino. As far as I can recall, it was the first time I had been in one since I was a child, at which age they tend to keep you a distance away from the various adult activities. That was in Las Vegas. This was in one of the Native American casinos that dot the Phoenix metro area. It's a modestly sized one, or at least it seemed to be. There was a vast sea of slot machines, and I had the vague idea that I might play those, but I didn't.

I did drink a fair amount, and watched (mostly) friends playing blackjack. I gather that it's a game whose odds you can turn closer to your favor than others if you are knowledgeable enough. I am not knowledgeable enough, as was proved out when I quickly lost each of the three or four chips I was given by a friend. My luck was regrettably bad, although I don't know whether my friends did any better. They may have just played more.

They Walk Amongst Us

I read something online from what I suppose you would call the neighborhood association. It drew my attention to the recent presence in the neighborhood of a celebrity. As it was Vanessa Hudgens, I was not exactly stricken to the core by the specifics of the matter, but the generalities were interesting. We have a vibrant neighborhood just bursting with people I'm certain can and will make it if there's any justice, but established stars are not to be found here so much as other districts.

That's what I would think, anyway. I suppose it's really not correct. There are rather prominent people closer to me than I would think, I'm sure. There are some reasons why. There are theaters where they perform or otherwise appear. There are highly regarded places where they work out or train at one discipline or another. They are around to record music, and maybe even they live here in some small numbers. It's quite a thing to think about.

"Buy The Ticket, Take The Ride"

I don't easily abide by fast rides at amusement parks. I can do them and even enjoy them, but it's tough. It's easy enough to play it cool in advance of the ride. You wait in line long enough that you can about forget what you're even in line for. I was at a theme park recently, and there were indeed a couple attractions where I got in line not knowing what it was or forgot while in line. Ignorance is, as they say, bliss.

I become quietly uneasy as the ride grows closer, but ultimately resignation sets in. Once the ride starts doing what's scary, it's not so bad a lot of the time. The somewhat milder of the scary rides are not so bad, anyway. The more severe of them bring me about as close as I get to really fervent, sincere prayer. I put a death grip on the bar they have there, and I frantically beg God to protect me. So far he has done so, or the rides are perfectly safe. I prefer to hedge my beds, personally.