21st Century Revolution

Among the many thing I'm geeky about is history/world events. A quick look at my bookshelf would show an eclectic mix of history books ranging from British archaeological pursuits in the mid 19th century to numerous books on Eastern Europe/Russia to various books on espionage. In another life I'd have majored in foreign policy/diplomacy.

If you've got a single brain cell and shallow breathing you'll know that the recent presidential elections in Iran went about as well as anyone could've expected. As in reigning President dictator Ahmadinejad claimed victory while his main rival, Mir Hossein Moussavi, and supporters say he stole it. What Ahmadinejad probably wasn't expecting was that Moussavi's supporters were none too pleased with the results. What may have surprised him more was that as I type/you read this Moussavi and his supporters are gearing up for another day of protests. You may also have noticed that like all good dictators Ahmadinejad has banned all foreign journalists from covering the protests and naturally state run media won't tell the truth.

This is where another of my geeky loves plays into ths post: technology. I was initially hesitant to embrace Twitter. A friend had suggested last year that I might want to sign up on Twitter since I live in Hurricaneland. At the time I brushed him off and then kind of kicking myself when Ike hit. In the last few months I've gotten on Twitter and while I've seen some fun things this week has given Twitter a whole new level of use. Moussavi supporters have been using Twitter to tell the rest of the world what's been going on in Tehran and the surrounding countryside. Where a generation ago those outside of Iran would've had no idea what's going on, Twitter and to a lesser degree Facebook has helped keep the world up to date. The trick is that the Iranian government is trying to shut them down. Servers are being shut down sometimes faster than they an be reopened. But on the flip side the opposition is using Twitter to point hackers to government sites to hit.

Now the potential revolution is not only digital, but anyone can participate regardless of location. There's one person on Twitter that's been providing reliable information as best as we can tell and we've learned that we all can help. If you're on Twitter change your location to Iran and your timezone to Tehran. Think of yourselves as Digital Spartacus (Spartaci?) as the Iranian goverment look for the real accounts to block. Another trick is to retweet items posted by reliable sources on #iranelection. Just don't retweet their names, for obvious reasons. Label it as "RT from Iran" to protect them.

Change is coming. Let's help move it along.

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"So many people to kill. Not enough time in which to kill them #48hfp"

If you follow me on either twitter or facebook you might've noticed I was rather busy this past weekend, spouting off little one liner nuggets like the title of this blog entry. (Apologies to those poor bastards that follow me on both.) For those of you wondering what the hell I was talking about I took part in the annual 48 Hour Film Project in Houston. As the name suggests, you've got 48 hours in which to make a complete movie. It can be no more than seven minutes long and must incorporate a line of dialogue, character (must be seen on screen), and a prop. The only thing we have a remote say in is the genre, which we literally pull out of a hat. In lieu of a running blog I went with the cute and much more doable twitter updates. Because I like you all so much I'll fill in the majority of the gaps in between tweets. (twits?) *shrug*

June 5 at 6:32pm - More Cheesy egg rolls for me and Old Rasputin before our draw for #48HFP. Already spreading Renegade Amelia love with aviator cap.

All the teams get together at one place for the start of the contest to get their genre and required elements. This year we met at The Usual Pub. Small as hell, but they have Old Rasputin Russian Stout on draft. It's an imperial stout and as such can kick your ass. I found on on Tuesday that at best I can have three drafts and then I'm all weeble wobble and hope I don't fall down. They normally don't have food, but for this they got food catered by The Hobbit Cafe. Tim has issues with cheese and texture so he was not down with the cheesy egg rolls or the egg salad/guacamole sandwiches. Seriously, the combination works.

As last year, I was part of Renegade Amelia Films, the company put together and run by Tim. For those of you that know me back in the day collegewise Renegade Amelia is basically what Galactic Productions was but with a presumably more trademark friendly name. Tim and I were there representing the group. We learned last year the depths people will go to win at least an Audience Favorite award so I decided that this year I could play the same game. Enter the aviator cap I normally wear to Aeros games and then put away until next hockey season. Which leads to...

June 5 at 6:38pm - Picking genres for #48HFP. Tim is reticent to wear aviator cap. I make him take it with him at least.

Tim and I bandied about a few minutes which one of us should pick. Since it's his team I let him have the honors with the proviso that if picks Musical/Western again for a genre I'll be picking next year. As such I all but shove the hat on his head for him to wear as he picks. He's not down with the idea at first, but he comes around to my way of thinking...

June 5 at 6:42pm - Tim wears hat as we pick Superhero for #48HFP.

We are infinitely more happy with this genre draw than last year. Last year we both looked like we either wants to suck the wrong end of a shotgun or jump off a bridge when we first drew Musical/Western. Did not help when our crew was emailing us going "What the hell are you thinking? Go wild card! Even sports move would be better!" And as the elements for last year were announced I just kept going "oh fuck. fuck me. just kill me". We seriously thought about trading in, but the fear of the total unknown with the wild card made us keep the hand we were dealt. Also Tim had this funny notion that if managed to pull it off we would get mad love or some such junk. With that attitude and our actors talking us off the ledge we made "The Ballad of Frank Gilroy". Never had I been so happy to be so wrong in my life as indeed we did/still do get mad love.

With that in mind we are all but jumping up and down for joy at the Superhero draw. No idea what we're gonna do, as in keeping with the overall spirit of the contest we don't really bandy about potential script ideas until we actually pull our genre. But knowing that we had access the entire weekend to the TBH Center helped keep us relatively calm.

June 5 at 6:55pm - Team Jell-o shots gets genre of Romance for #48HFP. Makes total sense to me.

Nuff said about that.

Tim takes off for TBH to meet our group to brainstorm script ideas. I'm not too far behind but I have to finish second Old Rasputin.

June 5 at 7:54pm - Singing theme to Greatest American Superhero while brainstorming #48HFP.

Cause you know, if you're doing Superhero and you're a child of the 80's eventually you gotta hum that at some point in the evening.

A large chunk of our group gets to the theater to brainstorm ideas for the script. I normally don't work this way. Most of my collaborative projects are solely with Tim and after nearly 15 years we know how the other works in terms of idea formation. Such as at some point he knows I'm gonna say "and then the clowns start sweeping each other's butts" and "they're doing it clown style, Mike". The few times there's been more people involved in the past it's normally been a core group that we trusted to be on the same page with us. This whole group/democracy thing is new to me and a little scary.

It turns out not to be bad at all. Ideas are thrown out that I'm not sure I would've gotten to within the time we allocate for writing let alone in a few weeks. While the process probably went a little longer than it should've overall we move in short order from what we think of as typical/popular Superhero concepts to what we eventually write.  I get tired of democracy and go back to what I do best when writing, limited despotism, as we send all the actors, crew, and Tim to start working on costumes. Left in the Green Room/War room are myself, our AD Mike Nagy and editor/composer Chuck Ivy. Then it turns into what I know better as we get down to the nuts and bolts of the script. That collaboration eventually leads to...

June 6 at 12:33am - So many people to kill. Not enough time in which to kill them #48HFP

Oh come on. Did you really think I would reveal anything here? I'll let you go to our screening to see what I meant by this tweet.

June 6 at 1:28am - Body count has grown #48HFP

Same as above.

Script is eventually finished sometime after 2am though there's some dispute between myself and Mike as to the exact time. Since we had full run of TBH we had decided that we do a sleepover/lock-in thing. Unfortunately my day had gotten wankerjawed enough that I didn't purchase a sleeping bag. I had been content to just sleep on the dance floor, but after jacking my shoulder the night before moving furniture I knew that plan of action would kill me. By the time we're done with the script though I'm too tired to go out to the nearby Target. I settle for curling up on a bench that apparently was under an AC vent. Needless to say what little sleep I get was absolute shit. I'm up and about around 6am, but I think Tim is still asleep in the Green Room/War Room and though my glasses are in there I settle for just stumbling into the kitchen to eat leftover pizza.

June 6 at 7:42am - I fool everyone and opt for coffee and pizza. #48hfp

Nacole and Angelie show up with coffee for everyone and a special cup for me from Starbucks. I normally abhor Starbucks but when I do stoop I get the strongest thing they have on tap. I mentioned this when they had said they were getting coffee and they hooked Mama up. Call time for crew was 7:30 and cast was 8:00. Give the script one last look over and realize I managed to fuck up the required line. Tim catches it, I fix script, and email it to him to print out.

June 6 at 9:16am - Finally shooting first couple of scenes. Already looking at and proofing titles and credits. #48HFP

After writing the script Chuck went home but before going to bed he did a basic title card and end credits. That along with some music cues we had discussed were available for our perusal. I can't adequately say how awesome it was to have stuff to proof that early in the game. It's not much, but those little things were a few less things we had to worry on the backend when we were really sleep deprived.

For the most part until the hardcore edit begins my work is done once we put the script to bed. I leave all the stuff involving the actors to Tim as he's the director. With that being said it becomes fun for bystanders to watch as I just pace around the place as we start shooting. I'm enough of a control freak to worry that things aren't sounding exactly as they did in my head when I wrote, but not enough of a freak to actually speak up. I don't want to be the manic, slightly hungover writer having a tantrum. I trust that while it might not be what I had in my head that it'll still achieve the same result.

June 6 at 10:11am - NOW is not the time to be pointing out typos in the script. #48HFP

Let's be honest. There are some things that go out the window when you're trying to bust out a script in record time. Proofreading for typos and misspellings go for a flight early on. What prompted that outburst was that apparently the right version of the script hadn't been printed out leading actors coming to me saying, "the required line is wrong". This in turn lead me to freak out and pull the version back up in my computer because I definitely had a memory of fixing it. I didn't dream the conversation I remember having with Tim a few hours. Right? My version on the laptop had the right version and Angelie goes off to fix everyone's script by hand as I start to lose my shit. It's at this point that someone comes up to me to point out some puissant typo. Shit pretty much lets loose by that point.

Cue more pacing by the manic, slightly hungover, sleep deprived writer.

June 6 at 10:47am - Got more skin showing. Woohoo! #48HFP

I will refer you to my descriptors regarding the body count.

June 6 at 12:02pm - Lunchtime! Feeling better personally now that editor is on set with NASA super computer. #48HFP

Raul catered lunch with homemade burgers. Chuck showed up on scene with his rig, deciding to edit on site as opposed to us driving tapes to him. His computer is Skynet. Or it can be used to land the shuttle in an emergency. I haven't decided yet. It's a Mac dual quad thingamajig that apparently cost a third of our current national debt. (Can you tell I'm a PC?)

June 6 at 12:27pm - Moved onto beer an hour or so ago. #48HFP

Does this really surprise anyone?

June 6 at 3:39pm - Doing stuff on roof for while now. No heat stroke yet so one up on last year. Or one down depending on how you look at it. #48HFP

I'm afraid of heights and getting up on the roof was no easy feat. Not something I'd try sober and well rested let alone manic, more drunk than hungover at that point, and sleep deprived. It actually works to a degree as it leaves me available to consult with Chuck as he edits, not having to wait for Tim to have a break. I nap a bit in the lobby and Chuck rouses me as he gets to different points in the initial rough cut where he wants my two cents.

June 6 at 5:10pm - Shooting last major scene. Then some ADR work. #48HFP

We get all our outdoor shots done that we wanted done by this point. Do some audio work for shots where we know the original sound is not going to work and Chuck is almost done with half of the rough cut based on the footage given to him so far.

June 6 at 6:29pm - Nothing left but the edit. Hit fifth wind and lost it about two hours. Chugging along though. #48HFP

As the tweet says by this point we're just editing and cleaning up. I tell Tim that once the cleaning part is done he needs to get some sleep. He tells me the same thing and I tell him I'm a little bit better at sleeping in odd places. I'll stick around to be on hand if Chuck needs one of us during the edit and Tim can roll back around in the morning. Chuck has a gig so at 8:30 he's gonna bust out anyone so I figure I can grab a few hours of quality sleeptime.

June 6 at 7:58pm - Chillin' like supervillians at ninfa's. 48hfp

We decide to eat. Tim, Chuck and I are all comfortable where we're at in the editing process that we decide that instead of picking things back up after his gig Chuck will come back at 8 or so in the morning. He was going to take his rig home and finish it up there but remember his monitor won't boot up so at this point he's got to finish it at the theater. The rest of us go home to sleep.

June 7 at 1:11pm - Watched rough cut. Just a few music tweeks and we're golden #48HFP

It looks ten times better than last year's entry. It's amazing what happens when your DP is the guy that owns the equipment. Tim, Mike, and I are relatively happy. Chuck makes the few changes we definitely want and then he's off to another gig for a few hours. We kill time by eating and watching literal music videos on youtube. Chuck is back a little after 4:30 and is burning the first of our two submissions by 5:00.  Then it's the backup copy and just before 6:00 we're ready to go back to The Usual Pub.

I get there first a little after 6:30 and find out from Hector we're the first team to show up to check in. Cue many dances of joy on my part, procurement of Old Rasputin and Shiner, and posing for photos with our entry.

As you'll see in the link to the 48 Hour homepage we're in screening Group B. Come on out, support some local film, and if you really, really, really like us vote us for Audience Favorite.

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Harry Kalas, RIP

I'm sitting here in my Phillies cap, sipping beer, and bawling my fucking eyes out as I watch and read the various tributes to Harry Kalas.

You read that right: bawling my fucking eyes out.

To put this in perspective it took me a year to cry for my father. I'm not sure I know what this says about me and I'm sure as hell not going to think about it right now.

Kalas was the long time baseball announcer for the Philadelphia Phillies, having started in 1971 when the team moved to the Vet. You may also recognize his voice from the Campbell's Soup ads, NFL Films (replacing another local legend in John Facenda), and Westwood One NFL broadcasts to name but a few.

Harry was "my guy" growing up. I spent years watching/listening to him and Richie Ashburn call games. He had a distinctive voice that you immediately recognized, no matter the medium you were hearing it in. He also had that now rare gift of not just calling a game but making it sound like he was telling you a story. Every pitch, every out, every second you knew what was going on. No scratching your head and wondering what the hell you just heard. (As I do every time I hear Milo Hamilton butcher another moment)

During last year's baseball playoffs a number of us emigrees from the Philly area congregated at Jake's to watch the games. Jake's is a Philly place where normally we go for the Eagles games. I started going for baseball during the first series against the Brewers and by the time we had made it into the World Series the place was packed. The final game, both nights, we had scared off every non Phillies fan. The bar was a sea of red and white, sported by those not even old enough to drink and those that vividly remembered the last championship in 1980. By nature we're a superstitious lot, so those of us that had been there for the long haul had our same seats, same eating habits, same rituals for every out.

Since the place was jam packed with Phillies fans and Jake's has XM, after talking with some others I made the decision that we should hear the radio broadcast. The only problem was the delay, which was about thirty seconds. I had the tv volumes lowered enough so I could ask all those assembled if they would mind the delay if it meant listening to Harry. There was no dissent in the house that night. We all wanted to hear Harry. It was the only way to hear the game.

The first half of that final game saw us brining in bottles of champagne in hopes that we'd get to use them. On the final night, the top of the ninth and Brad Lidge on the mound none of us could sit. Some had positive outlooks, knowing Brad hadn't blown a save all year. I and others only had images of Brad giving up that monster bomb to Pujols in Minute Maid three years earlier running in our heads. Two outs and the room was electric with anticipation. Harry is calling that eventual last bat as only Harry could. We're telling the girl behind the bar to get the bottles of Korbel we brought. Lidge sinks to his knees on the mound after recording that last out and just as we begin to celebrate, thirty seconds later, we hear Harry call that same sequence and declare Philadelphia the world champions.

We erupt as if we're in Citizen's Bank Park ourselves. In a way we were because the mother of one of the guys that was with us was there. She'd call and he would just pass the phone around, letting us listen to the constant noise in the ballpark. In a true locker room/bar celebration we hugged and kissed, a hodge podge mix of people who shared the same love/agony of being a Philadelphia native and normally being the bridesmaid in these situations. I was hoisted up in the air in a bear hug. I shot off corks from champagne, equally being doused and dousing others in champagne. My shoes still have champagne residue.

And through it all, there was Harry supplying the soundtrack.

I and millions of other Phillies fans got the greatest gift of all that night. A world championship called by Harry Kalas, something we'd been denied in 1980 thanks to MLB's then policy of not letting local broadcasters call the World Series.

It's a gift we will cherish as we start the first game of the rest of our lives without Harry.

Call By The Great Harry Kalas Brad Lidge Strikeout Wins The World Series For The Phillies HD

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The Watchmen

I was driving around town on Thursday when I got a text from a friend of mine asking if I wanted to hit the midnight screening of The Watchmen.

Sure, I had a hockey game to attend earlier that evening and work tomorrow but naturally my response was an immediate phone call of "fuck yeah!"

We ended up seeing the movie at The Rave on Highway 6 and West Little York. It's been a very long time since I've seen a movie in the theater so imagine my shock when I bought tickets ahead of time and found myself paying nearly ten bucks. Overall it's not a bad theater, but it wouldn't have been my choice since it lacks the ability to buy beer.

Most of us got there around 11pm and they were already letting people into the theater. Very quickly it became apparent that we were the oldest people in the theater not there because our kids wanted to go. I felt horribly old. It didn't help that we had some fanboys and their tag along fangirl friend behind us. At one point the girl wonders how many people are in the theater because they read the book or because they want to see "the pretty people on screen". I had to resist the urge to turn around and ask how many of us were alive when the book first came out. Nothing I hate more than some geek trying to assert some level of dominance when clearly they shouldn't be. Just sit down, be a fanboy, and try not to pretend to be the uber geek you're not.

As for the movie itself it fucking rocked with an umlaut. It's probably one of the most faithful adaptations of a comic book I've ever seen. The cast was picture perfect in that they looked like they just popped out of the book, especially Patrick Wilson who played Dan Dreiberg/Nite Owl. Jeffrey Dean Morgan did not annoy me the way he does on Gray's Anatomy and Billy Cruddup was excellent as Dr. Manhattan.

Storywise they stayed just about as close to the source material as they could. Some changes were made and to be honest I was okay with all of them. Origin stories were cut down and some of the not so major subplots were dropped. There was so much nougatty goodness thrown in though that I could live with it all. Probably the most major change is in regards to the ending. Again, the change made perfect sense in a "how can we make this accesible to those that haven't read the book?" way. And honestly, I prefer this one to what was done originally. (I know. I'm so burning in hell for that.)

I won't say too much more because I don't want to give too much way in terms of what actually made it on the screen. I will say that I do feel that you can not have read the book, watch the movie, and not feel like you're missing anything. But if you go into this thinking you're gonna get another Spiderman or Superman movie you're going to be horribly disappointed.

Much like the comic book itself, The Watchmen movie is not your typical comic book movie.

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Gallifrey 2009 - Day 4

The clock on the bed reads 8am when I awake. This means I've had less than three hours of sleep from when I stumbled back to the room. This means I'm going on my fourth day on something around nine to ten hours of sleep. This means I of course feel like death on a triscuit.

Or maybe more appropriately in some truncated version of Withnail and I with any number of Squeeze songs about drinking for the soundtrack. I feel like a pig shat in my head even though I have no gone on holiday by mistake. I decide that I might as well ride the drunk/comfortably mellow state of affairs until Monday so I start the day by finishing off the apricot ale I had earlier in the morning. All I can do is sit in the chair and just kind of stare into the distance and try to comprehend my current state.

Since I can't go back to sleep and I've got nothing I want to see until Colin and Nicola go on stage at noon I wander back to the dealer's room. I figure I can go back and speak with Cindy Pickett. She's not there, but Greg Berger is. He notes that I'm now wearing my Houston Aeros hoodie, finally indicating where I'm from. In talking I mention I'm not a native Texan and he immediately states that he could tell from my accent and mannerisms. I probably spent about twenty minutes talking to him. Very nice conversation and a great guy.

Noon rolls around and I haul myself down to the ballroom for Colin and Nicola. My friend Bob sees me and asks if I've got a hangover on top of the hangover. I state that I'm still in the boozed up portion and that he better be ready to drive tomorrow morning because I already know I won't be able to. Colin and Nicola were a joy to watch together. It's always fun to see past Doctors with their companions. It was easy to see the great affection they have for one another. Colin explained his reasoning for biting Nicola on the ass during the first day of rehearsal. In my opinion, the same douchebag who asked Colin about his weight being a reason his Doctor was eating on screen all the time asked the same question. But this time he lacked the tact and just outright called Colin fat. This lead to Colin teeing off on him asking if everyone had ever told the dude he has no tact. Colin explained that he'd rather be healthy and enjoy life instead of some emaciated stick figure. We all applauded and then Colin would use any opportunity to just take another whack at the douchebag.

I don't know how and maybe it was something as simple as someone checking Facebook, but it was apparently getting around that it was my birthday. Which it was. Guests and friends alike were coming up to me going "I hear it's your birthday" or "Is it your birthday?" or just plain old "Happy Birthday". Dan did offer to get a group together to go to the strip club down the block as part of a birthday celebration. While I'm down with the strip club scene this one looked like the type of club that would have a pregnant one armed stripper as the main attraction. And as appealing as that sounds I realized photos would be taken and I'd hate to have to explain to work why there's a shot of me getting a lap dance from a pregnant one armed stripper while my friends pay to make it rain on us.

It had come to my attention the previous night that among the items donated to the charity auction where five Bernice Summerfield CD's donated by David Darlington. All were signed, I just didn't know by whom. If I had criticism about the auction it would be that I wished a complete and up to date list had been available to see beforehand. The only thing that I could find was one sheet posted by the door to the room that housed all the items and it was clearly not up to date.  As such I had missed the first part of the auction watching Colin and Nicola which lead me to miss three out of the five cd's. Vanessa had me scared for awhile as she mentioned one of them was a copy of "The End of The World". Later I found out it was only signed by Simon and I already had his signature of the copy I owned. If David Darlington had signed it I would have had to find the person who got it and beat them down for it. The two cd's left were copies of "The Final Amendment" signed by Simon, David, and Joe Lidster and "The Diet of Worms" signed by David. I already had a copy of "The Final Amendment" signed by a whole host of people, but not David so I resolved to get that along with "The Diet of Worms".

When I show up at an auction I come to play. I know what I want and I have a set price in my head. Non of this flim flam bullshit of upping the bid by a dollar. I had to wait a bit for them to get to the Benny cd and the first of the two was "The Final Amendment". They barely got the description out when I opened with five dollars for my bid. Someone bid six and I immediately went to ten. She countered with fifteen and I went straight for twenty. Twenty going once. Twenty going twice. Sold twenty dollars.

I had to wait longer for the other cd to go up and then I felt like I was in Groundhog Day. The bidding literally went the same way, note for note. I opened with five, the same person countered with six. I went straight for ten, she went fifteen and I bid twenty. Twenty going once. Twenty going twice. Sold twenty dollars. The only difference is that you could hear in her voice that she was pissed. If you read this blog and you're the person I beat down for those two cd's, what can I say? Mama was going home with those, that's what I'm saying. And I'd have gone after the other three if they had still been around. But really, you know I paid twenty on the first one. You might as well have cut to the chase and bid twenty.

With my new cd's in hand I went back to the dealer's room where I ran into the Big Finish crew. Simon reminded me that Gary had directed "The Final Amendment" and Gary was nice enough to sign the cd for me.

Speaking of Big Finish it was back into the ballroom at 4pm to see their final panel. Again, nothing new for the most part. The only two new items would be that the Bernice Summerfield Inside Story book is closer to getting released. There's only one person to get permission from and then Simon can go ahead and write a chapter about season number nine. It was explained that since Big Finish has the rights to Doctor Who and a chunk of the Benny book is what's happening to the show in the years that it's off the air they couldn't have their cake and eat it too by releasing something that hadn't gone through the proper clearance channels. The other news was that Sapphire and Steel is in a bit of trouble. Jason has to put pen to paper in regards to renegotiating the license and whether they can make it work financially. Sapphire and Steel may be the first audio line to become a casualty of illegal downloading. They want to make more though so it might be revamped into a Companion Chronicles style line of audios for future seasons. So you kids out there who want Sapphire and Steel and want it in full audio cast style might want to either buy copies of the existing catalog or buy more if you've already done so.

After the Big Finish panel the convention proper portion was pretty much done for me. Just as Opening Ceremonies do nothing for me neither do Closing Ceremonies. Instead I went back to Carl's Jr with John for dinner. This turned into unintended comedy as John was so out of it he didn't realize he ordered two combo meals and I got the shock of my life when I realized their idea of a western bacon cheeseburger is a cheeseburger with bacon, bbq sauce and two nasty onion rings. Seriously, onion rings. I had to go back and look at the picture on the menu to make sure it was my fuck up for ordering and not theirs in making it. It was also by this time that I learned that when I'm going on four days of drinking nothing but booze I start to stutter. Badly. As in from time to time I was sounding like a definitely tipsy Porky Pig.

The last night in the lobby started after dinner. People joined us as the Closing Ceremonies finished and I asked Bob to get my lasat tasty treat to share with all my British friends. Beaver Nuggets. Beaver nuggets are a tasty confectionary treat made by the good people at Buc-ee's, a gas station chain in Texas with a beaver for its mascot. I wish I had a camera to get the reactions of every time I said "would you like to try some beaver nuggets?" My beaver nuggets were a hit overall and I need to fulfill a promise to send a care package of those and some Booze Leprechaun t-shirts overseas.

Since it wasn't my birthday people bought me beer instead of it being the other way around. Which was nice because it was my birthday and to be honest I was all out of beer and really didn't want to try and buy more so one way or the other the Booze Leprechaun was taking a night off. As it was many birthday rounds were procured and I ended up having a very nice and lengthy conversation with ElyssaDC who knew of me from the Audio Time Team's Liverjournal mirror blog.

Elyssa is another major lover of all things Benny having come by Benny in a roundabout fashion via the New Series. Luckily she was able to explain it to me without the use of graphs and charts because let's face it, I was too damn drunk to have comprehended anything that complicated. It was fun to talk to her and it's clear that her passion for Benny puts mine to shame. I also learned from her that apparently I'm not the only person who likes the character to Jason Kane so this made me feel like I had emerged from the wilderness to find Xanadu. The one that Kublai Khan did decree, not the one inhabited my Olivia Newton-John on roller skates. We talked for awhile and tried to call Lizbee, another LJ'er, because in my drunken state my ego increased to think that while the lobby lacked any guests I'd be good enough for her to talk overseas with.

While talking to Elyssa some of my friends asked if I'd like a piece of chocolate cake from the restaurant. I am not one to turn down free chocolate cake. Eventually I looked up to see Keefe with the cake in hand but not coming anywhere near me. This lead me to suspect that something was afoot and to move my beer glass. Next thing I know my friends are coming en masse, singing Happy Birthday and managed to rope Kai Owen into the festivities. Later on Elyssa saw Frazier and got him to come over and wish me happy birthday as well. Vanessa has us on tape posing as if she was going to take a photo.

Later on it was time for the annual Scrabble game. This year it was myself, Jarrod, Rob Shearman, and Vanessa. I was convinced Rob would totally destroy us since Jarrod and I were admittedly drunk. We managed to hold our own though and not get completely trounced by Rob even though he did win. It became a spectator event again, which I'm down with. I did find though in my state of inebriation I wasn't down with the spectators putting their two cents on what word should be played. But I did learn a new word for drunk from Rob and got a very nice compliment later on in regards to my overall play so I can't complain too much.

The evening then further descended into more drinking and talking. I had had every intention of going to bed after Scrabble but the siren's cry of gin and tonics called to me. That and I just didn't want the night to end. I knew that the next day would mean the end of summer camp and we'd all be going home.

Besides, it had turned into the BEST...BIRTHDAY...EVER! How could I got to sleep? This had topped the one where my dad sent me a stripper who ended up being from Australia and did his routine to Will Smith's "Men in Black" among other tunes. And may I mention that all my other friends chickened out and I got to enjoy the stripper all by myself? I believe I shall.

All good things must come to an end though and I finally dragged my ass to bed sometime after four.

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Gallifrey 2009 - Day Three

I awake to find myself drowning in a pool of my own drool, still laying sideways on the bed fully clothed and the clock reads 7:30am. This of course means I've only had about three hours of sleep and I'm definitely displeased by that state of affairs. What displeases me further is that I can't manage to fall back to asleep so I'm stuck still slightly drunk on three hours of sleep. Joy.

I can't remember what I had for breakfast. I want to say maybe some leftover beer and some chips from the con suite. I could be wrong about the chips.

The convention day proper for me starts with the Big Finish panel. Still much talk about the Key 2 Time series and very limited discussion of the "Lost Season" of Colin Baker's they're doing. As usual with a Big Finish panel the highlight is just watching them all interact with each other. You never know what's going to be said. Fun bit at the end as they played previews of some of the audios coming out this year including McGann's "Company of Friends" and his reunion with Susan.

Then it was time to start using our Golden Tickets as the first autograph session of the day was forming. I wanted to get a couple of other items signed by Paul Cornell, including a couple issues of Captain Britain and the Short Trip Christmas anthology he edited. The Golden Tickets let us roll up on the line after it was starting the form only to get to head of it. John, Cathy, Keefe, and I had fun posing for photos with our Golden Tickets. The chick who's place at the head of the line we usurped didn't look as thrilled as us oddly enough. But we didn't care as we sang the Golden Ticket song from Willy Wonka and queued up according to the number on the ticket. When we got to go in the fun increased as it took a few minutes for the non Golden Ticket holders to be allowed into the room. Much jokes about peasants were made. Yes, we are evil like that. We have the Golden Tickets to prove it.

I think I got lunch. I don't remember.

Next up for me was the Wendy Padbury interview. Wendy was awesome and pure delight to watch. The best part of this was her explaining how she discovered Matt Smith when she was a talent agent a few years ago. She sang his praises and did her best to dispel any fears we have of him being the next Doctor. In the middle I slipped out in hopes of using my second Golden Ticket to get Pia Guerra to sign my copies of "The Forgotten". It took a little longer than I thought it should've, but I finally got confirmation that in fact Pia wasn't going to be able to make it out to the convention. I grumbled a bit and then went back to see the end of Wendy's session.

I was so still drunk that I had trouble telling time. I thought it was 4pm and next up was Colin Baker talking about Big Finish. I was so pleased to see so many people coming in to hear him speak as Big Finish has done a wonderful job rehabbing his Doctor. Imagine my shock/surprise when instead it was Gareth David Lloyd coming on stage. I rechecked my watch, cursed, and then probably pissed a bunch of people off as I stood up to leave.

I think this is when I decided to kill time in the dealer's room. Hidden in the back were Greg Berger and Cindy Pickett. They were having a conversation with someone so I didn't want to interrupt but the guy noticed me and asked who I was. I just mentioned I was an attendee to both which Greg and Cindy said I wasn't "just" an attendee. I took that as a chance to mention to Cindy that I was from Houston, had gone to the University of Houston, and one of my best friend's had gone to Bellaire High in the nineties. A quick lesson: Cindy is a native of Houston whose dad for a long time taught acting at both Bellaire and U of H. Among his students besides Cindy are Brent Spiner, the Quaid brothers, Robert Wuhl and the late Trey Wilson to name a few. Once I assured her I wasn't full of shit she smiled and shook my hand. I backed off and let them continue their conversation with the guy. A few minutes later I hear Cindy yell "Houston". I turn back around and pointed at myself in confusion. She said she wanted to talk and I explained that I didn't want to interrupt the current conversation. She and Greg appreciated that and she implored me to come back later to talk. While I appreciated the gesture I also think it might have partly been because she and Greg were lonely.

With the little hand on the four I made my way back to the main ballroom to see Jason Haigh-Ellery interview Colin about his Big Finish stuff. Awesome interview that was only marred by two things. One, some douchebag who has a weight fetish not so tactfully inquired if jokes about the Doctor eating were put in the scripts because of Colin's weight. Before anyone cries 'hypocrite', I may make the odd Colin Baker fat joke when we do one of his audios but I would never dare to bring it up to his face. Cute little jokes that I live in fear of him mentioning one autograph session is one thing. Making a weight comment right to his face in such a manner that can be construed in no other manner than nasty is another. The second was that I forget how the conversation led to it but Colin had to drop his two cents on waterboarding. If you know me it shouldn't take you long to figure out which way I lean on the subject. The lack of applause tells me that either the majority of the audience feels the same way I do or they just thought it wasn't the appropriate place to make such a comment. Either way I know I could've gone without politics creeping into my Who.

After Colin there really wasn't much going on until the Masquerade later in the evening. My friend Vanessa entered as the Haute Couture Dalek. I wanted to see her, but I also knew I needed to eat and not another meal at Carl's Jr. The Magical Bucket of Booze also needed to be replenished. So I headed back to Ralph's to buy Reese's Peanut Butter cups, another 12 pack of Sam's and a 12 pack of Coors Light per request by Keefe while he, John, and Dan trekked to Carl's Jr. Apparently there was something involving a homeless guy in a diaper possibly obsconding with a cheeseburger they bought for some random guy at the convention who asked them when he heard they were going to forage for food. I managed to run into the same cashier who once again noted I had to be planning for another party.

There was nothing that tickled my fancy in the way of dinner so once I got the latest additions to the bucket chilling I made my way to Denny's. Nothing finer than placing a layer of grease thanks to a Moons Over My Hammy on top of still full belly of beer. Note for future reference: the Denny's by the Marriott has a bar.

By the time I felt slightly human I decided just not to go to the Masquerade. I knew I'd get to see Vanessa's costume later and overall cosplay just ain't my bottle of beer. Instead I settled down on one of the couches in the lobby to start reading "Tiny Deaths". Part of me wanted to try and get a nap but the other knew once I slept I probably wouldn't wake for days. As it was I ended up not getting much reading done as hotel staff was dealing an unruly guest/visitor. I don't know what started it but next thing I know I see a guy sitting among the other set of couches talking to one member of hotel security. I can't hear what the hotel security guy is saying but I can clearly hear the guest/visitor and it's not good. Soon one hotel security member multiplies to about four which then escalates to one cop and then to three with sirens in the distance. They got the guy to leave the hotel without incident but I cannot report what happened once they got him outside.

While I didn't sleep, I did retire to my room for a bit to fiddle about on the computer. I had also decided against going to see the American premiere of Moths. It's not that I don't want to see it, but I knew the place would be jam packed and that I would have had to line up long before the masquerade even started to get a decent seat. Knowing that he'll be back in October at Hurricane Who to perform didn't hurt in the decision making process.

Apparently Moths got started late due to the masquerade running over so I was a bit surprised when I wandered out into the lobby around when I thought Moths was ending to see the place relatively empty. I did spot Tim and Llamastrangler so I hung out with them until the play let out and people started making their way up to the lobby. Then it was time to bring out the Magical Bucket of Booze and its cousin along with my pub sign with 'Park Your TARDIS Here' written on it. I started the evening with 24+ bottles of Sam Adams, 3 Shiner Blacks, 8 Shiner Blondes, and a few Sam Adams Light. By 2am I was completely out of beer. The party was still rocking though and thankfully Handsome Timmy D produced another 12 pack of Apricot Ale. We descended on it like starving dogs to meat and that bad boy was gone in about an hour.

5am rolled around and the party was still in full swing, much to the consternation of the hotel staff who had to keep cleaning up our debris. The Starbucks opened along with Lattitude getting the overpriced breakfast buffett ready. Though things were still going on I made the decision to stumble to bed. At that point in the evening/morning the rest of the hotel occupants would slowly make their way downstairs along with airline pilots checking in. It was kind of hitting that point where things were gonna have to end soon or something ugly would happen and I wanted to hear the story being told, not be part of it. After creating a little bed on the floor using the huge non-fluffy pillows I finally went to sleep/passed out.

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Gallifrey 2009 - Day Two

My apologies in taking so long to get these out. To be honest I stopped drinking early Monday morning but my hangover didn't hit until Wednesday. You can imagine how much fun that made work.

Also, as you'll note in these convention travelogues one of the guys I stay with, John, is a bit of an autograph whore. (His words, not mine) Anyway, it has come to his attention that in the course of things he lost a Tomorrow People cover signed by Jason Haigh-Ellery. We think it happened during Saturday's autograph session. You might remember him as the guy with tons of covers in ziplock bags trying to figure out which ones to get signed. Obviously, if you go through your stuff and find you're now the owner of a Tomorrow People cover signed by Jason made out to John and you're not named John it's a safe bet it's not yours. If you happen to be in possession of this please drop me a line privately and arrangements can be made to get it back to him.

We now return you to your regular convention travelogue.

Breakfast is again the culinary mecca that is Carl's Jr. There was discussion of partaking of the hotel's breakfasat buffett but at $19.50 a pop that thought was quickly nixed. The general consensus was that at those prices the food should be cut up and pre chewed for you. I also thought everything should be made from scratch at the table per your specifications.

After food the task of organizing items for signature began. Friday was deemed autograph day as in theory I could spend all day getting the majority of what I needed signed taken care of. The announcement that Alien Entertainment was going to charge $20 for Colin Baker's autograph helped lighten my autograph load. The initial announcement that Pia hadn't made it for Friday's activities did screw the plan of attack I had worked out the week before for the entire convention.

The first session included Phil Collinson and as such the line started forming well over an hour before it was supposed to start. John and I ended up taking turns holding our spot in line while the other went to check out the dealer's room. By the time we made it though it was clear that the line was not getting much longer. After another quick run through the dealer's room we went back to the autograph session to find the line was still holding steady in size. We asked and were allowed to go back in, greedy bastards that we are. Along with Phil this session included Frazier Hines, Wendy Padbury, and Nicola Bryant and if we had made it through a second time at least I would've gotten everything I wanted signed without messing with Saturday's session. As it was the line had started out rather long and try as they could there was no way they'd get everyone through without running terribly late. As such the line had to be cut but as a special parting gift everyone on the wrong side of the cut got fast track passes for all three sessions on Saturday. Some days it pays to be a greedy bastard.

Once we got our golden tickets we basically queued back up for the second session involving Paul Cornell and Tony Lee among others. I got Paul to sign my copy of "A Life Worth Living" as to date it's the last Benny thing he's written. I gave Tony the first two issues of "The Forgotten" to sign and gushed about it and Pia's artwork to him.

Session number three had the boys from Torchwood and the Big Finish gang. John, Dan, and I had a lovely surprise for Laura Doddington from our time in Chicago but I got separated from Dan and John. This didn't prove to be such a problem since I had no plan to pay for Kai Owen's autograph and I only got Gareth David-Lloyd to sign items for other people. As I was the complete opposite of most people in that line this allowed me plenty of time to talk to Laura and Ciara Jansen as most people completely ignored the Big Finish bunch once they got their Torchwood autographs. Once Dan and John joined up with me we gave Laura the lovely photo we had made for her as a memento of the final night of Chicago TARDIS. Much laughter ensued with Jason and Simon Guerrier leaving their table to see what all the fuss was about. The photo proved to be a big hit with each of us having a copy for Laura to sign and one for her to keep.

I dropped my bag off in the hotel room and then went back down to watch Paul host Just A Minute. This way if nothing else I could say I went to at least one panel a day. Just A Minute is a long running program on BBC radio, the gist of which is that each contestant has a minute to speak non-stop on a given topic. The kicker is that you can't repeat words except for what are considered little word such as "the" and "as" and there can be no pause or hesitation. If any those things happen another contestant can challenge and then give the topic a go in whatever time is left. This year's contentants were Phil Collinson, Toby Hadoke, Wendy Padbury, and Frazier Hines. It was a tough battle between Frazier and Toby with Toby barely pulling out the win. The highlight may have been Phil begininng to regale the crowd with a story involving a bloke named Sven but was cut short through a foul. This made myself and most of the others in the audience sad as we all wanted to hear the full story.

I'm not one for Opening Ceremonies so instead I took my part in the great dinner debate. Since I had no clue on what I wanted to eat, only that I was hungry, Bob #3 and I ended up going to Ralph's. The Magical Bucket of Booze needed to replenished anyway so I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone. Beer prices were still a bit much, but not as bad as the liquor store around the corner from the hotel. It didn't take the cashier long to figure out there I was planning for a party as I went through the line with two 12 packs of Sam Adams, a six pack of Shiner Bock, and ginormous sandwich for dinner, and a bag of guacamole chips. The cashier was right when she said the chips I picked were probably the best in the guacamole chip genre. We also learned the hard way that Ralph's is part of the Kroger family of grocery stores so I could've used my Kroger card if I hadn't left it at the hotel.

Friday night was also the night for the numerous Toga/Volcano parties going on so I was treated to way too many people running around in hotel bed sheets and not much else as I worked my way through my ginormous sandwich. My friend Vanessa was part of the winning team for a scavenger hunt. I didn't hit any of the parties but apparently Phil Collinson tended bar at the Volcano party. There was also karaoke and among the highlights was a singing Dalek and Kai Owen belting out some Welsh hits.

Eventually I made my way downstairs to see what was going on and ran into Kathi, Justin, and Etta. Topic of conversation turned from one thing to another and soon we were trying to figure out how one would collect bull semen. A few trips to google later and we learned that it involved a teaser cow and artificial vagina. We also learned that said semen can be frozen, mayonnaise jar not required, though you may want to properly label the jar to ensure no confusion between your frozen bull semen and your frozen alfredo sauce. As always I learn something new and useful at Gallifrey.

The Booze Leprechaun made her second appearance in the lobby later on in the evening. I was initially set up close to the doors by the front desk, but had to move when the kids waiting on the wrestlers to come in started crowding around my area. The last thing I need is for some kid to reach into the bucket thinking they're getting soda and pulling out a Shiner Black. The plethora of kids was a bit annoying but fun to watch their excitement as several wrestlers checked in for the night. A number of us are wrestling fans as well and the kids in wheelchairs were an excellent early warning system as they'd start zooming around when they spotted a wrestlet coming in. The Big Show may have to win the award for most gracious one of the night as he spent probably at least ten minutes talking to the kids and posing for photos when it was clear he'd rather settle in for the night.

The bucket got relocated to the set of tables in front of the Starbucks and currently occupied by Simon Guerrier, James Moran, and Phil Ford. I hadn't wanted to horn in on their conversations with others, but it was the safest place to set up operations and kept Simon from having to walk too far when he needed a refill. It did eventually give me the pleasure of handing a beer to Frazier Hines and hooking up his American website designer, Van, with one after I carded him. Yes, I card if you look young. Again, I dont' want to have to answer the question of "How did the convetion go" with "Great! I spent it in jail after being busted for contributing to the deliquency of a minor. They needed to take up a collection to pay my bail".

Moving the bucket also let me meet and make new friends with attendees like Tim and Llamastrangler, which is an awesome name. It quickly came to my attention that Shiner brewery does something right because whether I handed out a Shiner Black, Shiner Blonde, or Shiner Bock the receipiant was very pleased, particularly those of the British persuasion. The Shiner Black was especially a hit and the one I was more worried about going over. Yes, next year I will endeavour to bring more than just one 12 pack of each. 

The eventual highlight may have been watching a guy completely piss drunk trying to figure out the escalators. For a moment we thought he might just take a header down him which may have then ranked as the best part of the convention up to that point. Think of it as weebles wobble and that one was dangerously close to falling down.

In keeping in with my apparently "straight up G" ways I eventually fell onto bed sideways sometime after 4am.

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