Hair Apparent

Good news for all those hair enthusiasts out there: I will not be cutting my hair come the end of this month. Several reasons, including the lavish praise from Mike Pytka, have made me reconsider cutting my curly mane. I have become accustomed to having this great golden briar patch on my head, and am loath to remove it. So, for a little while, anyway, I’ma keep it. Don’t fret, though. It will eventually go to Locks of Love, but this way I’ll have more to give. Also, I fear I’d end up like Samson, in that if I cut my hair, I’d loose my freakish strength.

Some of you may be asking, "Wait, how can Rich be keeping his hair and going into the Air Force? It makes no sense! Ill kill myself if I can’t figure this out! Aaaaaahhhh!" Well, don’t fret, little friend. I’ll explain it all. You see, I won’t be going into the Air Force. Yep, simple as that. Here’s what happened: The first guy I went to see about my Air Force Reserve Officer Training Corps told me that the scholarship I was getting would be a "full-boat" scholarship. This means it would pay for da woiks: fees, books, room and board, tuition, meals; everything. When I got the letter about what it would actually pay for, fees, books, and room and board were not included. Well, now! That’s okay, it was still a great offer. The first guy (an officer in the Air Force) I saw also told me that at any time I wanted I could transfer to another school, and/or switch majors. I thought that was great. The second guy I went to see was also an Air Force officer. When I asked him if could transfer or switch majors, he said sure, no problem. I thought, "Great, I know what I’ll do." I was signed up to major in chemistry, but I wanted to be a meteorology major. WNEC didn’t offer that program. I figured I take the scholarship for WNEC, for the chemistry major, go for a year, and then transfer to a school that offered a meteorology major. Sounded fine to me. I was told by two separate Air Force officers that I would be able to transfer and switch majors. I even outlined my plan to the second guy and he approved it. I went several months believing I’d be fine. "This is the US government," I reasoned. "They wouldn’t lie to me." I know what you’re thinking, "Rich, your stupidity goes beyond anything most people can imagine." Well maybe. But I had faith. Then, about a month ago, this cocksucking bureaucrat named Gregory Smith calls me up and says that chemistry is not an approved major at WNEC, through the program. He then explained that I’d have to chose a new major. Fine, I said. I’ve been told chemistry was acceptable by two different people, but that’s okay. What majors do I have to choose from? He gave me four: computer science, electrical engineering, mathematics, and mechanical engineering. I only chose chemistry because I had to pick a science. I want to be a journalist. I hate science and math and know I'd be miserable pursuing a career in one of those fields. So then I asked him if I could pick a major from that list, then transfer to another school with a greater range of offered majors, and finally switch majors. He said "No. There is no switching majors and no transferring to different schools." Well, that was the last straw for me. I’d had enough of being jerked around. I sent him a scathing e-mail, accusing him and the officers of heartless incompetence, and declined to take the scholarship. Please know that I wanted to be in the military. I longed for the prestige the rank would bring. I wanted the experience and I wanted to make a difference in that system. I did not decline because I was afraid of service or basic training. I turned down the scholarship because I was tired of being mislead and poorly treated. So now I’m free in four years instead of 8 (although I hope to get a doctorate, so not really free) and I can keep my hair and won’t have to attend weekly meetings or be put in danger overseas. So all in all, it’s probably for the best.

I’d like to share a . . . revelation I’ve had. You see . . . *adjusts sinister sunglasses* Morpheus, girls are not actually offended by the sexual comments I make, be they blatant advances or clever innuendoes. I believe that girls . . . and guys, I suppose, are not as bothered by my off-color commentary as they seem to be. On the contrary, they are in reality more flattered than offended. And who wouldn’t be? I mean, while the prospect of having someone eat a piece of cheesecake off of your ass may be slightly disturbing, you can’t help but be flattered when someone says they’d like to do so. I mean, when you get right down to it, it’s actually quite the compliment. The same way, if a girl wears a provocative outfit, she only feigns being angry at stares. That’s what she wore the outfit for in the first place. So, if I ever say that I’d like to do something freaky with you, don’t be mad; be glad! It’s my way of saying "You’re all right!" (Paid for by the Please Stop Suing and or Insulting Rich Foundation)

Right about now I’d like to list the drugs I would consider doing over the course of my life. First: Nicotine. That’s right, good ol’ fashioned cigarettes. They’re a crucial part of vintage Americana, and they make you look cool . . . if you’re slightly cool to begin with. They also help when you gesticulate. No pipes, I’m not a detective living in turn of the century England, and no cigars, I’m not that pompous. No tobacco, either, I’m not that rugged. Next on the list: Alcohol. Booze, beer, bottles a’ wine and lots of ‘em! I think the only beer I’d try as of now is Corona Extract, the others seem a bit bitter and . . . uncouth. If that applies. Wine can be cool, in a sophisticated way, and the drink has been around for a while. Easy to seem cultured when drinking wine. Champagne is a bit pretentious, but maybe on certain occasions . . . it’s more of a celebratory drink, anyway. High balls! Those are fun! There’s such a wide array of them, they’d be fun to sample. Help develop a character for yourself by picking one. And then plain ol’ booze. Scotch, vodka, gin, bourbon . . . you name it. A bit hard to swallow, literally, but it seems like everyone should hold an "on the rocks" glass at some point in there life and sip moodily at a drink. Maybe I’ll stop there with the legal ones . . . I’ll make this a continuing segment! I haven’t got enough of those already.

Last Friday I was on my way to work in Hatfield. It was a perfect 65 degrees outside. Huge clouds ballooned in the blue sky. A breeze was up, and on it came the rich, refreshing scent of Autumn. Every song I heard on the radio was just right. I didn’t change the station once, Thank You, WRNX and Dave Sears. The day seemed so perfect that I drove to the job site, ahead of my crew, and then paused for a moment and turned around. The drive home was just as lovely, and I stopped to take pictures along the way. It was the best experience I’d had in weeks.
I wish I could’ve taken the perfect drive with a girl I care about, but it was maybe best to do solo.

Another thing I’d like to do with a girl, sleep. Not sleep with her as in sex, just fall asleep with her. Holding each other at that moment of surreal comfort between dreams and reality would be bliss.

Here’s something I think is cool: When you have a diverse, multi-talented group working for the same goal. It may be overused, that situation in which you have a this specialist and a that specialist, all with different perspectives and personalities and appearances, cooperating, but it still gives me a good feeling to see.

I’d like to wish a very happy one day belated Birthday to everyone’s favorite Powell, Evelyn!


Happy Birthday! Woooo! (Shame I wasn’t invited.)


Movies: I forgot to mention the most provocative movie I saw over the course of collecting material for my last blog post, The Bourne Supremacy. Based on the book of the same title by suspense legend Robert Ludlum, it continues the adventures of an amnesiac spy, pursued by the CIA and a deadly assassin in the employ of a Russian gangster. The movie, like the first, is disturbing to the point of nausea, due to the heavy performances and subject matter, extreme violence, over the top suspense, and Matt Damon’s ruthless efficiency. The sequel is harder to watch in one more aspect. The cinematographer felt the need to use one camera angle every second, making the film a jarringly erratic spectacle. In any given scene, the point of view flashes twenty times, from close ups to far off shots, looking up, looking down, from the right, left, front, or behind. It makes one’s stomach turn and one’s eyes ache in protest. That said, the movie is tight and tense. As a thriller, it is expertly crafted. It drives at you with all the kinetic force of a bullet . . . and all the warmth of an icicle. Damon is perfect as the heartless killer longing to lead a normal life, only to be sucked back in to the world of international intrigue. A sort of American james Bond, minus all the charm and humor, but with a great deal more skill and intensity to make up for it. Brian Cox and Joan Allen also excel, as feuding CIA directors with nebulous motives. The car chases and fight scenes, though intense, are startlingly beautiful, in their way. And it’s refreshing in this post-Matrix world to see two people fight without leaving the ground in absurd acrobatic slow motion leaps. So, if you have the stomach, definitely take the time to watch this one.

I believe I have discovered my favorite genre of films . . . (if you can call it a "genre"). I don’t even have a word for it. I’m thinking of crime-comedy, as opposed to romantic comedy or crime drama. The movies that are included under it’s umbrella are varied. Very varied. So much so that they could be all different genres. Let me give you an example: Pulp Fiction. That’s right, Quentin Tarantino’s violently hip masterwork. However, Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs also fits into the genre, despite how it replaced ‘Fiction’s funny cool with simplicity and violence. There are ethnic entries, such as Ordinary Decent Criminal, with Kevin Spacey, about an Irish crime lord; goofy comedic entries, like Who Is Cletus Tout?; quirky entries, like The Zero Effect. There are marital bliss parody entries, like The Ref; there are jittery twisters, like Suicide Kings. Guy Ritchie’s films are included as well, Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch. How about hip, quality, big name cast remakes, like The Italian Job and Ocean’s 11? Or the ultra-smooth dialogue-based Heist, by David Mamet. They can be part horror, as in From Dusk Till Dawn, or all "What the fuck?" as in Kill Bill. I suppose at it’s most radically comedic form the genre could stretch to include Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, and at it’s most primally criminal and violent, films like Natural Born Killers, but I wouldn’t take it to either extreme. A perfect medium, with all-around high scores in characters, plot, suspense, comedy, action, hip dialogue, and soundtrack are hard to come by, but last night I saw a film which came close. Boondock Saints, about two Irish brothers living in America who become vigilantes in their home town of Boston, scores a perfect ten in almost all categories. The brothers are loveably cool, in a violently self-righteous kinda way, there comedic Italian partner is funny in so many ways it makes me wince, and somehow pulls off cool/funny/and loser-trying-to-be-cool funny all at once. Willem Dafoe is awesome as one of the most unorthodox characters I’ve ever seen. The movie is great, especially in the development of the characters it does have (I’ll ‘splain later), soundtrack, action, and dialogue. And the plot is interesting, albeit with a disturbing message.
Here are my problems with it: 1) This one applies to the genre. There are no good female characters. It seems to be a rule of thumb (inside historical joke) that these films are drenched in machismo violence and suavity, and completely lacking in any feminine influence or charm. The genre as a whole, and this film is no exception, would benefit from some strong female characters. Pulp Fiction manages it, with Uma Thurman’s sexy strong willed Mrs. Wallace. 2) It is difficult to make all the characters cool, sometimes writers and directors try and fail, sometimes they don’t try at all. The character base that loses out the most next to women are villains. You see, in a action movie, you’re pretty much guaranteed a cool villain, horror movies, the same, and even in comedies there’s always the hateable jerk. But in many of these films, the villains are just boring and one dimensional. What’s worse, they’re not at all scary or competent. That gets tiresome. It’s a shame when the best villain a film has to offer is the inept, though perfectly sleazy, Ron Jeremy as a mob underboss. Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs had cool villains, mainly because every character in both movies was arguably a "bad guy." Snatch I believe has the best antagonists. Brick Top and Boris the Blade are two of the scariest, funniest characters in the genre. And the knew what the hell they were doing.
3) This film didn’t allow Billy Connolly to be funny. That, amigos, is a terrible crime. Perhaps the film will redeem itself for these transgressions in the upcoming sequel, All Saints Day. Until then, it’d make an awesome graphic novel series. (Provided they can get a hot girl, a badass bad guy, and give Billy Connolly’s character some friggin’ jokes.)

And now for More on Movies . . . or Moron Movies:

Casting Call:
Pat Dandrea: Matt Damon
Mr. Goddu: Rutger Hauer
Mr. Paul: Billy Drago
I realize you film philistines probably don’t know who either of these last two actors are, but if you do know, or if you are decent enough to look them up, then you’ll realize their both cool and scary, respectively, and ideal picks.

After some serious thought . . . and by that I mean getting drunk and going to a midnight showing of Rocky Horror at the Towers on Saturday with Tony, I have been witness to the next unavoidable evolution of Casting Call. You see, I had envisioned Casting Call as a way to compliment or insult my friends and show my knowledge of film. Now, I’m takin’ it in a whole new direction: I will now use it as a way to compliment or insult my friends and show my knowledge of film! A ha! You see, I’ve have been, up until now I have been picking actors to play my friends and enemies in a film about our lives, but that presents many problems. Namely the shortage of teen actors and the fact that I can only judge potentials by films they were in and thus one, maybe two dimensional personalities, while my friends have complex personalities and unique traits. It’s almost insulting to say that someone could be convincingly like them. Nay, this was the wrong way to go about things. But now I have it! I will cast my friends as actors to play parts in films! You see, the ol’ switchy swatchy swapperoo. So, I will take a film, eliminate the cast, and put my friends in the place of the actors. Let me give you the example that started it all: The Rocky Horror Picture Show!

Brad: Andrew LeTellier
Janet: Meg Lynch
Dr. Frank N. Furter: Richard Sugrue
Riff Raff: Tony Celi
Magenta: Merilee Brakey
Columbia: Caitlin Szewczyk
Eddy: Sam Sugrue
Dr. Everett Scott: EJ Massa
The Criminologist: I’ma hafta go with Tony again. No one pulls off "stuffy British guy" like him.
Rocky Horror: Steve Konefal

Music: A favorite topic of my friend Brendan’s is how lousy the Dave Matthews Band has gotten over the past few years. Especially Dave himself. Brendan’s theory is that the band’s (Dave’s) lack of originality, and the interdependent factor of his getting over his cocaine addiction (an addiction that obviously lead to some kickin’ songs) has brought the quality of the music into a downward spiral of overused themes and images, and boring music. I say to this: Not so! Granted, Dave’s music was amazing when he was on crack, and hadn’t started re-using many of his Dave-stinctive images. It was unlike anything out there at the time. He deftly captured a range of emotions and a wide array of stories, messages, events with his uniquely rhythmed music and the lyrics that fit perfectly into it. And granted, his music seems a little less dizzingly drug-like. But still, anything by Dave is touched by a singular coolness, evident in the way he turns a simplistic song with The Blue Man Group (Sing Along) into a hip skat anthem for non-conformity, or in his subdued and moody solo debut, Some Devil. So what if he uses the terms "crazy," "grey," "blue," "man," and "plan" ad infinitum, as long as he keeps pumping out songs like Save Me (a nifty take on the story of Jesus’ temptation by the Devil), Dodo ( a ballad for uncertainty), and Stay or Leave ( a tear jerking look at a beautiful relationship) his music is still fine in my book.

I took a trip a few days ago to Turn It Up Cd’s in NoHo, with ma good buddy Andy LeTellier. I bought, as my friend Tony would say, a "crapload" of CD’s, most for under 10 dollars. I found some good ones, let me tell you. First off, from the One Dollar Rack: Unconditional, by Shawn Somethin, a nifty lil’ pop album with a couple innovative songs. Then Wicked Good Sampler, courtesy of Universal Records. This one has many awesome songs, specifically the first track, Woke Up This Morning, by A3, also known as the Sopranos theme song. But it has songs by Semisonic, Smashmouth (early), Blink 182 (early), and other decent groups. Then I got me a Blue Man Group CD, Complex. As well as Genius, The Best of Warren Zevon. (It has Werewolves of London!) I got The Bad Boys soundtrack, which has some decent hip hop tracks, but I purchased it mainly for KDFM’s Juke-Joint Jezebels. I then went on to buy Soul Coughing’s debut album, Ruby Vroom, a hip acid jazz number. Finally, at the counter, I spied a 4 disk set of The Rocky Horror Picture Show Soundtrack. This I readily bought, with my own two hands. And presented it as a gift to one whom we shall come to later in this blog post.


Listening to one of my favorite albums, Ghosts That Haunt Me, by the Crash Test Dummies, I was brought back to one of the high points of my senior year, The Clearing. You see, one of the songs strongly reminded me of one of The Clearing’s best characters. Do you want to know what it shwas? Alright, I’ll tell you what it shwas. The song is a traditional Irish ballad called Thick Necked Man. And it reminded me of that character we all loved to hate, Sir Charles Sturman. His verse of the song goes a lil’ sumthin’ like this:

Talkin’ ‘bout a thin necked man inna three piece,
Killing from his office desk,
Many places he has been to,
Many more he’ll visit yet.

Well without his mommy’s pride and kisses,
Without his country’s confidence,
Without the dying man’s permission,
Without no guilt nor consequence.

This bloody-minded son of a bitch has not a wound to mend,
And all I can do is pray to God
He’ll get one in the end!

As depraved and maniacal the character in the play was, the crazy Italian Ninja who played him was even more so. That’s right, we’re talking about everybody’s favorite zombie-huntin' Samurai inspired party host, Anthony Celi, Tony, as he is more famously known, or Tones McKenzie, to some Friends. The first time I noticed Tony at Catholic, (though I had seen him in Shadley public schools, and had a CCD class with him) was one day in mid-Freshman year, when I was bungling Python quotations and I heard Tony down the other end of the hallway correctly telling them to someone else. At this point I thought, "Oh crap. I need a new quirky British series to rip off." For Tony was at our school the unquestioned authority on all things Python. No one I know has so warped his or her ethnicity. Tony is an American of partial Italian descent. He makes this well known. He is also obsessed with the way of the Japanese stealth warriors, the Ninja. He practices Samurai sword training techniques, acts as a pirate on occasion, and plays out British comedy skits. When he has his friends blissfully confused, he throws a party over his house for half of the friggin’ school (the cool half). Tony has an intriguing and most times comforting view of the world. His beliefs are liberal enough to show he’s a compassionate person, well aware of the need for change, and just conservative enough to show he still has a place in his heart for good ol’ fashioned family values and American ideals. Tony has been my outspoken comrade in words against the tyrannical censorship which has infected ‘Catholic. He was the co-founder of the HCHSFTCT, and most likely the best writer that divinely hilarious organization will ever have. We worked side by side on two of the most successful skits in our school’s history, and side by side as well on the ill-fated (as of yet) Undying Love TV series. Through all of this, plus two triumphant public showings, Tony has demonstrated his amazing sense of humor. I did a blog on the subject of humor, I believe. In it I explained that it was an odd quality to have, and must be a product of an open mind, sound intelligence, and a light-hearted spirit. Tony has the greatest sense of humor of anyone I have ever known (not by much, mind you; all my friends are funny) but Tony’s is near perfect. He can integrate any foreign comedy into his own repertoire, use random, improvised, or rehearsed jokes with ease and effect, and appreciate the humor of others. Tony is hospitable and ingratiating. One must admit, he threw the best parties of anyone at Catholic. Tony may seem abrasive at times,but it's part of his charm. He makes up for it by being giddily cuddlesome other times. And I love the way he can switch from Droopy-eyed mumbler to frenetic lunatic in a mere second. But most importantly, Tony possesses a strength of character that is very rare in these times. The one word that comes to mind when I think of him isn’t welcoming, or funny, or even kind, though he is very much all of those things. The word I think of when I think of Tony is Honor. Tony, more than any other friend of mine, seems to be the most honorable. He’s always willing to do something because it’s right, not because it’s practical or popular. Because of this, it’s easy to picture Tony as one of the super heroes in the comics he collects, brooding over his computer in his well equipped basement lair, running on 3 hours sleep for 4 days, the loveable insomniac, his deadly disk shooter close at hand in case of trouble, working on his tremendous blog (one of the very best on the net) and steadfast, fighting a never ending battle against evil and hypocrisy. Yet, it is also easy to picture Tony stepping out of his Fortress of Solitude to welcome you in, a PS1 controller in one had, a can of Pepsi in the other, ever the smiling host. This makes Tony the perfect comic book crusader, and forever my hero.

I’d like to close this blog with a message to all my friends out there, a la Sting. You know who you are. (If you’re reading this, this applies to you.)

You could say I’ve lost my faith in science and progress.
You could say I’ve lost my belief in the Holy Church.
You could say I’ve lost my sense of direction.
You could say all this and a whole lot worse, but
If I ever loooose my faith in you,
There’d be nothin’ left for me to do.

Some would say I was a lost man in a lost world.
You could say I’ve lost my faith in the people on TV.
You could say I’ve lost my belief in the politicians,
They all seem like game show hosts to me.
If I ever looooose my faith in you,
There’d be nothin’ left for me to do.

I could be lost among their lies
Without a trace.
But every time I close my eyes
I see your face!

I know that any miracle of science
Can go from a blessing to a curse.
I know that with any militr’y solution
We could end up with somethin’ worse.
Let me say this first:
If I ever loooose my faith in you.
There’d be nothin’ left for me to do.

No matter what has gone on in my life, one thing has remained constant: My friends. Throughout a tumultuous four years at Catholic, with everything that has happened to me, my friends have always been there. I owe you guys a good deal. I would not be anything close to the person I am today without your help, encouragement, and support. So, while I may have become disillusioned with the world, may have been angered at the injustice and stupidity at our school, may have been saddened by quarrels at home, may have lost my faith in The Church, in God, in teachers or family members, I never once lost my faith in you. Thank you for being the steadfast, unflinching boulders that kept me safe in a world of harsh uncertainty and grave hypocrisy. I love you all.

Current Music: Blue Man Group's gnarly percussion jive
Current Mood: Antsy . . . but well rested.