Crazy-Pops

I try to expose my children....okay, that didn't sound right. I try to talk to my kids and tell them about all kinds of different things. Important things. Like music, for example. The Mixmaster loves the Curious George soundtrack, for example, and the G-Man loves all the songs from the Thomas the Tank Engine shows. But I try to occasionally play some other things for them, so as to mix it up and to keep me sane. Because, sometimes, I think if I hear "Oh yes it's great to be an engine blahblahblah" one more time I'm going to go into a fetal position as I'm driving. And then I'd crash. Anyhow, so I plug my Zen Jukebox into my Jeep stereo and I let them hear some good music - some John Eddie, some Dramarama, some Flogging Molly, some Kings of Leon - on occasion. And we talk about it so they know what they're hearing.

So yesterday I picked them up from school, and it was obvious that the G-Man had had a long day. It was "Splash Day," after all, and I could tell he was fried like a high school kid the morning after Grad Night. So I put them both into the Jeep and I got in and the G-Man, from the back seat, says, "Daddy, I need some rock and roll. I need some rock and roll now."

I'm so proud.

Well, here we go - tomorrow night, it's the first show with the new incarnation of the Rodents of Unusual Size. You see, we had 7 of us a month ago, then we lost 3, and we've picked up a new person (she's quite good!), so now there are 5. It should be a very good time - I've written a new sketch and a new music sketch and I'm doing my rant and Howard's doing his rant, so come check it out. Here's the PR - it's in two parts, because I sent out an original e-mail (below) and a follow up e-mail (above):

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Hi friends,

Just a reminder: Tomorrow is "Rat Tuesday" - see below. Also, this just in: Opening for the ROUS tomorrow night will be Tina Gill, doing her "Oddville" winning smash, "Rindercella." Okay, so we all went to the "Oddville" show (www.oddville.us) last month at the Avenue and performed one of our ROUS sketches. We met Tina there and asked her to open for us, because "Rindercella" is really cool and because she won the "Oddville" competition with it. You'll just have to see it to believe it. Remember - we have a good track record with our opening acts. Rubi Nicholas, who opened for us in December, went on to win the "America's Funniest Mom" title with Nickleodeon Television, so come on out tomorrow night and see the next star in the making!

Also, look for another episode in the continuing saga of Clippy, the Microsoft Office Assistant, at tomorrow night's show. And a brand spankin' new music sketch. We're pulling out all the cheese, just for you!

Details below. See you at the show.

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The Rodents of Unusual Size Comedy Improv Troupe is very proud to announce their new totally regular gig. Not "totally regular" as in "they've been eating a lot of fiber" but "totally regular" as in we're booked through the end of the year for the 4th Tuesday of each month at the Avenue Theater! That's right, the 4th Tuesday will now be known as "Rat Tuesday" in these here parts, so saddle up your varmints and come on down Tuesday, June 27, to the Avenue for an evening of splendiforous amusement. Okay, those are big words, and "splendiforous" isn't even really a word, but it's Monday and I'm just coming off an excellent Father's Day (happy belated Father's Day to all you dads out there), so my mind isn't quite back up to speed just yet. Forgive me. And come to the show anyway.

If you come to the show, you'll get to hear the now infamous "rant" that I did for the "Radio Avenue" show on radio station KGNU Friday morning. Infamous, you ask? Why infamous? Because it was beeped. That's right, I used a semi-"dirty" word or two and my "rant" was censored, like so many famous comedians before me. Hahahaha! I can't even say that with a straight face. Anyhow, I'll be presenting my raw rant uncut and uncensored Tuesday night, and, as a special bonus, Howard Semones of Monkey's Uncle will be presenting his own rant as well. You do not want to miss it. It was on the radio! How close to being semi-famous can we get? Show details below.

See you at a show!

- Jeff
Tuesday, June 27, 2006.
7:30 pm: Rat Tuesday begins!
$10 cover, includes one drink

The Avenue Theater
417 East 17th Avenue
(303) 321-5925
www.avenuetheater.com

- Tonight, in my hockey game, I scored a goal. Off of my calf. Not my stick, my calf. Not as in, "my baby cow," but as in, "the back of my leg." It was surreal.

- Today, for the first time, the G-Man started peddling his bike. Up until now, he's been Flintstoning it, using his feet to go, but today he started peddling. Stay off the roads, ladies and gentlemen. A 3 year old is on the loose. A very dedicated 3 year old. Because once he figured out he could do it, he spent the entire day doing it. Sort of like the first time I had sex. Or not.

- Last night I had asparagus with my dinner. So today, every time I step into the bathroom, my olfactory senses have been tingling with a new, yet slightly familiar, odor. It's refreshing, in a "what the hell is - oh, yeah, I had asparagus" sort of way.

- Yesterday I watched "The Wizard of Oz" for the first time since, well, since it came out. I'm that old. Anyhow, I watched it with the Mixmaster, because he's at that age where he really enjoys movies, and I just have one question: Where the hell does the red brick road go to? I mean, sure, the yellow brick road goes to the Emerald City and, eventually, to the guy behind the curtain. But where does that red brick road that you see in Munchkinland go to? Is that some kind of Yellow Brick Road Frontage Road? Or is it more sinister than that?

I'm 41-3/4 years old. Yep. 41. And three quarters. Whoo-freaking-hoo.

And, yet, somehow, I keep finding myself doing things that, on occasion, make me think to myself, "Act your age!" For instance, I play ice hockey in the RMHL. It's really fun, and there are lots of older dudes who play, so I don't feel totally out of place, although it is quite funny to have younger dudes call me names. I've been called "college boy" before and I actually had one goalie say something like, "nice shot, bitch." I, of course, told him to say "bee-yotch" the next time. But that's not what this post is about. Here's what it's about: I have a hockey coach that I see once a week. That, in itself, gives me a little pause. I wonder if it's too late to start learning hockey. I wonder if I forget how old I really am. I wonder if I should be doing something more productive, like filling out my AARP application.

Then, today, I started taking weekly guitar lessons from a guy who's played with James Brown. Granted, I've "played" guitar for 20 years now, but it's all been sort of on my own. I've never really taken lessons from anybody and my guitar playing has felt stagnant for some time now. Besides, if I can learn how to funk like the JB band does on "Sex Machine," I'll be the funkiest white boy in Denver. That's worth going after. Isn't it? At the ripe young age of 41 years old? Is it too late to follow the funk?

Seriously?

Why do I do these things? I'm old. I'm crusty. I should really be reading "Reader's Digest" and taking my Metamucil. Is it a mid-life crisis sort of thing? Most guys my age having a mid-life crisis either buy a convertible or start banging their 20 year old assistants, and I've already got a Jeep and my assistant is Emily and she's 27. So that's out of the question.

Then I realize I do them because I can, really. I work for myself, so taking an hour out of my week to go learn how to do backward cross-overs on ice skates isn't a big deal. And neither is taking an hour out of my week to learn that you can flat the fifth in a blues scale for some awesome new sounds. And, really, I do these things because they keep me interested. Sure, kids and wives and engineering careers are all interesting, but I always find myself wanting to stretch out a bit, ya know? Try something new. Learn to do something better. Or good, even. Or, hell, even adequately.

Does anybody else have this problem? No, not a problem, really. Does anybody else have this, um, predilection to learning new things? That's your word for the day, by the way: predilection. It's a good word. Use it. Love it. Sprinkle into your conversations like jimmies on a donut.

If you like your comedy on the simian side, and funny, go see our pals in Monkey's Uncle Comedy Improv tonight at the new Jazz at Jack's in the Denver Pavilions. They do a fantastic show and my friend Howard is in their troupe. And if Howard's in your troupe, the whole world's smiling. Man, where the hell did that come from? It must be a Monday.

I, unfortunately, won't be there because it's Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals tonight. I'm torn, really, because the two great loves of my life outside of family, friends, and engineering.... hahahahaha! Okay, scratch that last one, and add "guitar playing." Anyhow, the two great loves of my life outside of those things are comedy and hockey. So I'm a bit torn. But I can see the Monkeys next month and the month after that. I can see a Game 7 of the chase for sports' greatest trophy once every, what, 7 or 8 years? So I'm skipping the comedy and going with the hockey tonight. If you go see the comedy, please shout out "tribadism" for me at some point. You'll have to read Howard's blog to learn about it, but it's damn funny.

Well, I was on the radio today. Not as in, "Boy, there's a radio, I think I'll sit on it," but as in actually on the radio airwaves. The Avenue Theater had a thing last night where they recorded a radio pilot called "Avenue Radio" at their theater, and I was invited to do a 90 second "rant." So I took a couple of jokes I had laying around and I came up with this:

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You know what really fries my clams? Trying to keep up. Sure, when I was younger, a long long time ago, I was hip and cool and all that. With my Flock of Seagulls haircut and my Jordache jeans, it was easy to be hip and cool and with it. Now? Now I have responsibilities. And children. And a wife. And no time to keep up. The other day, I go to my grandparents house. They’re getting quite old, but they just got cable ‘for the golden years.’ I get over there and my grandfather’s sitting in his easy chair watching “Best Week Ever,” laughing at something some celebrity did, and I ask him, “Where’s gramma?” And he replies, “She’s out back pimpin’ the garden.”

So, realizing that my grampa is more hip than I, I study. I read. I go on this thing called the “Internet.” I try to keep up. But that’s hard to do when you’re balancing being a conscientious parent with being a hip playa, ya know? The other day, my 5 year old was walking around the house, looking for me. And I hear, clear as day, from the other room, “Daddy, daddy, where are you, bitch?” Um, what? “What’d you say, son?” “Where are you, bitch?” “What’s that word, son?” “Bitch?” “Yes, son, that word. Where’d you learn that?” “It’s just a word I know.” Wow. Um, I gotta do something, right? I mean, he can’t say that. He just can’t. So I call him over, I give him my best “Daddy’s gonna lecture you” look, and I say, “Son, you can’t say that. It’s be-yotch. Be-yotch. Unless you want to be thought of as a dizz-ork or a gizz-eek at the playground, you better say it right. Now go back and try it again.”

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The funny thing? That's almost a true story. The Mix Master actually said that. The rest of it I made up (with a little help from my friend Deletta, who came up with the "pimpin' the garden" line). Anyhow, so I got up in front of the live studio audience last night and I read it and got some laughs...and it was on the radio today. But it was cut. That's right, my shtick got neutered. So to speak. And it bums me out a little, because I don't think the piece flows as well the way it came out on the radio. Here, you have a listen, if you'd like. Go here and click on the "Metro" show from 6-16-06: Avenue Radio

Ah crap, I got a subpoena today. Yes, a real one. To go testify for a guy who's suing a contractor that I did some work for blahblahblah. Yipee-kye-freaking-yay. Nothing like getting in the middle of an argument between people who have lawyers, huh? Why can't we all just get along? Or you - you, there, you with the loud voice - you just take your ball and go home and the rest of us'll go to DQ and get a dipped cone and everything'll be hunky dorey once again. In fact, I think I'll do that - I'll show up to court in two weeks with dipped freaking cones for everybody. Then maybe they'll all see the error of their argument and beautiful music'll start playing and we'll all have a picnic on the grass, with our dipped freaking cones. And people'll say they're sorry to each other. And I can take my ball and go home. 'Cuz my work there will be done.

I'd be really bothered by this except I've already been an expert witness twice and I just served jury duty. And I was somehow the jury foreman during that. Which I should really write about. Okay, I will - this weekend. Look for it. It was a good time. In a sarcastic sort of way.

I told one of the neighborhood moms that she's a MILF today.

Is there some kind of social law against that?  I mean, in context, I said it sort of jokingly, because she had gotten her hair done up and I noticed.  So I told her she's a MILF and she laughed it off and I quickly went to some other line of witty conversation to cover up the fact that, yes, I told her that, in the strictest definition of the word, she's a Mom I'd like to, uh, plow a few fields with, if you know what I mean.  Which isn't really the case.  I mean, she's a fine woman, certainly, and I'm a dirty old man, but still.  Our kids play together. 

Wow. This is pretty damn funny: http://markmossasj.blogspot.com/2006/06/do-little-dance.html. Steve is truly multitalented.

Okay, this is freaking weird.  I had a dream last night that I was making love with my wife....that's strange, really, in and of itself, because, really, I should probably be dreaming of making love with Salma Hayek or Rachel McAdams or somebody like that.  But I dream of making love with my wife.  When you've been married 11 years and have two kids and two careers, it really doesn't happen often enough, so you dream about it happening.  Anyway, so, in my dream, I was making love with my wife and I looked down at her beautiful ass (it really is a nice ass) and it had a bunch of corporate logos on it.  I don't know which ones, specifically, because I was so freaked out about it I woke up.  But it might have been Dunkin' Donuts, KFC, AutoZone, and Starbucks, all corporate logos, all right there on her ass!

Should I seek professional help?