Damn, this podcasting thing is awesome! Now I can listen to Southern California's KCRW shows on my iPod on my drive to work!
Podcasting, for those of you so not in the know (like I was, oooh, earlier this week) is simply making an mp3 audio file out of a radio broadcast for playback on a home computer or mp3 player such as an iPod.
So instead of waiting to hear KCRW's Left, Right and Center at 2:30 on Friday, you can download it and listen whenever you want! All you need is Apple's iTunes 4.9 and bang, you've got podcasting!
I can't wait until all TV shows are like this. Miss last week's Scrubs? Download it on iTunes! Couldn't watch The Simpsons because it aired against the Contender and your former roommate worked on the Contender and if you didn't watch the Contender then she would have beated you to a damned pulp? Download it on iTunes!
Wave of the future, my friend. Now, if you don't mind, I have to go check the new podcasts this morning before I leave for work ...
The official title of this photo is,
I always used to make fun of him for NOT smiling,
Holy crap, I just saw this camera online and I so want one!
But this, this 7900 is amazing. Seven Megapixels. Yes, seven. You can blow that photo up to bigger than huge and they'll still look good!
So if you want to drop $300 US on a present for me, I've got just the idea ...
I'm sorry, but if your friend has been missing long enough
After visiting my friend in the hospital the other night I've had one word stuck in my head over and over: phlebotomist.
A phlebotomist is the technician who draws blood from the patients. But I've been making up new words and phrases, such as "phlebotastic" and "phlebotomise" and my favorite, "Domo arigato, Mr. Phleboto!"
I dare you to say it, you'll be hooked!
The Air Conditioning at work has been broken for the past two days. If it's broken today people are going to see Josh on a rampage, I'm sure. Now, it's only been in the high seventies out, but inside it was a high of eighty-seven at one point yesterday. That's not cool.
I mean, we're already cranking away on two dozen projects at once, and now one of my co-workers just went to the hospital with a blood-clot in her liver (!!!) so we're down one person, and we're sweating like pigs in there. I've never seen eleven more gross people than the group of us after working eleven hours straight yesterday.
Anyway, wish me luck.
On Wednesday this week I had to run to the Maine Mall for work. I got to Best Buy early, around 9:45 am, to beat the crowds. I like the mall in the morning, I always have. I eagerly anticipate the day when I'm old enough to be one of those early morning mall walking senior citizens.
Anyway, as per usual, whenever I'm in the mall I check on the Disney Store. And it's not because I'm the Disney Boy anymore, that ship has sailed for me and I'm actually quite disgusted with the way that Eisner has steered it - especially when it comes to the theme parks and animation.
But the Disney Store people are good people. I used to go in there when I was little (keep in mind this was before the internet and websites like Jim Hill Media and Mice Age) to get info about Disney. So obviously I was in there quite often.
Then there was that fateful day - April 17, 1994. Eighteen days after my eighteenth birthday. I applied for (and handily got) a job there. Picture young Josh, still in high school, wearing a big blue sweater and polyester gray pants shilling some new movie about lions to the kids. "Look at this stuffed lion! His name is Simba. You should go see his movie when it comes out this summer ..."
Anyway, the current manager of the store is a woman who worked there with me back in the day. Then, as if by fate, she moved to the New Hampshire store right before I had to go to interviewed for the Walt Disney World College Program at UNH. So she was there to help me when I got all messed up over the bus system to get from Boston to UNH. Then, super ironically, when I was working on the Disney Studio lot in 2001, right across from the Team Disney building with the dwarfs? Yeah, well one day I was walking to lunch and I saw her on a tour. She'd just been promoted to Store Manager and she was in orientation.
So she and I go way back. And the store and I go way back. So I stop in every time I'm in the mall and they say, "Wow, I still can't believe that you really went to work for Disney. Back on the Lion King days you always said you wanted to." And I say, "Well, I couldn't have done it without you - the Walt Disney World people really liked that I had worked at the Disney Store, and the Feature Animation people were blown away that I had already worked for two stores and a theme park and was only 20 years old."
Everyone feels good in the process.
Oh, so back to my story on Wednesday? The Disney Store was closed on Wednesday. They're renovating the store. For the time being they've taken over a store around the corner, near American Eagle, and the Disney Store will be gone. The old slat-wall store, the old teal, pink and light blue1980s beast, the old stomping grounds, will be gone.
I am crushed. I have been thinking about it since Wednesday morning. That Disney Store represents so much to me. It takes me instantly back to 1994, I was so tremendously excited to be working for Disney, finally. But I had hopes and dreams of bigger things, and I had people around me who believed in me and to this day who are proud of me.
It also represents something that I grew out of. That, most likely, I'll never have again. But, even until last month, I could go there. Go into the store, catch the opening holler of "The Circle of Life" on the big screen, close my eyes and say, "Someday I'm going to help make traditionally animated films for Disney." I'd get goosebumps.
It made me feel like a kid again.
My favorite flowers, bar none, are lilacs. Probably because my bedroom window was right above the lilac bush at my parents' house, so in the summertime my window would be open and catch the smell of the flowers all of the time.
Because I moved home in July last year, I didn't realize that all of the plants around Daniel's house are in fact, lilac bushes. So back three weeks ago when I got home from my work trip to Philly, the lilacs were going crazy!
Anyway, one of my family's friends saw a used camera this spring and picked it up for me, knowing I like photography. So I went outside and played with the camera and the flowers. This is what I got:
Sadly the week of 90 degree weather literally cooked the lilacs, so they really only had a week to bloom. But still, just another reminder why it's nice to be home ...
So today is my nephew's first birthday out in California. And I got him the best card ever.
Because I'm a big fan of birthday cards. Always have been. Cards make it pretty easy, really, all of the heavy lifting has been done for you. If it's sad occasion someone else has gone and found the right words to express your sentiment, and if it's a birthday for your funniest friend then you don't have to think up some gut-buster of a joke, just pick from one of the rows and rows on the shelf.
The hardest birthday cards to do are the group ones at the office where everyone has to fill up a blank card. Back at Disney we always had the artists draw a caricature or silly picture for the card and then we signed around the border. Man, was that tough. You had to fill a few lines worth of funny. And it always came at the randomest moments. You'd be walking down the hallway, minding your Ps and Qs and some assistant would jump out and say, "Quick, sign this card for the producer of the movie!" That's like saying, "Think of the funniest four liner in two seconds, but make sure it's appropriate forever because people will be looking at this awesome drawing for the rest of his career at Disney!" Man, the competition on those was just unreal.
The easiest cards? My buddy Ochs. In fact, this year I got him two. One was a religious sappy card about God smiling because it was his birthday (and the thought of God looking down on Ochs and smiling is just too awesome) and the other was some Patriotic Inspirational card about "you make America great" with a sunset (or sunrise) on it. Yes, a double-shot of hipster irony there. Like when I got my brother the Spanish-language little sister birthday cards back when I first moved to Cali.
Anyway, for my little nephew I found this card that on the front says something to the effect of, "Happy Birthday, Blah Blah Blah, Another Year Older, Blah Blah Blah, Eat Some Cake, Blah Blah Blah ..." and it goes on, covering the front. Then on the inside is says, "Now can we go get drunk?"
I wrote, "Oops, sorry, twenty years early. My bad. Happy Birthday. Uncle Josh"
Yeah, his mom is going to love that one ...
I'm not sure why exactly I'm shocked, but still, I'm kind of shocked.
And it looks like crap!
Why do companies feel like they have to update their classic logos to make them more dynamic (yes Burger King, I'm looking at you!) Heck, even the Image Comics logo is more classic than this piece of junk! Argh!
Dear Mr. Cruise,
I am sick to death about reading / watching / seeing you in the media. Don't get me wrong, I think you're a fine actor and very charismatic and handsome. But still, outside of movies you've completely flipped your lid, and that's sad. Please get off the covers of these magazines and for the love of God (or whoever you worship in Scientology) stop jumping on the damned couches. Seriously.
I do understand you being into Scientology, I do. You're an actor, and you like attention. Scientology is a cult of attention. Luckily for us it pretty much has a grip only on the attention-hungry entertainment industry. But still it is similar to the telemarketers who bilk elderly people out of their entire life savings. Smarter people preying on the stupid and weak. So keep writing those checks to L. Ron and be happy with the attention.
However, this whole Katies Holmes business has kind of got me down. The Penilope Cruz thing was sad enough, but Katie is just so cute and young - why bring her down with you?? Everyone knows you're gay. And you know what? It's 2005. You've been the Hollywood it boy for two decades. Why don't you reinvent yourself as the first big gay leading man? I mean, you had white hair and were evil in your last movie and we all bought that! Let's go the next step. Be gay in a movie - and then come out in real life! Publicity up the wazoo! It'll be huge.
And instead of taking in these attractive, young, tall actresses grab a hunk of some young actor. Chris Klein. Ryan Phillipe. Heck, any young actor, gay or straight, would want to accompany you, Tom Damn Cruise to a movie premiere. I mean, look at this photo below of you and Katie. You're both acting right here, it's totally obvious. Hayden Christensen could so pull this off better than Katie.
You can totally tell that neither of you like each other - that you're only doing this because you're gay and that she's only doing this because she's making the big leap to a big summer movie and wants to be seen as a "grownup" so when she's making out with Batman in a few weeks on the big screen the audience doesn't think that it's looks weird that that chick from "Dawson's Creek" is getting jiggy with an American Psycho.
I guess what I'm saying is START ACTING LIKE A FRIGGIN' MOVIE STAR. Look at Sinatra. Bogart. Clooney. Go on the talk shows, be charming (your strongsuit), be handsome (no problem) and be a little mysterious. And seriously, don't jump up and down on the sofa. I know what that is. It's spelled "P-u-b-l-i-c-i-t-y w-h-o-r-i-n-g". And you should be above that.
So, in conclusion, get over it. Brangelina is the big story this month. Britney had last month. Paris v. Paris has the B story for June, and Lindsey Lohan had the B story for May. July is already booked with Britney's divorce and the tragic death of ... well, you'll see. You're not top news anymore, sorry.
Sincerely,
Before I start my rant, here are the photos. I still can't believe that I lived to see the World Series banner fly at Fenway!!
The second is just a glamour shot of the Prudential Center. Still love that building!
So the concert in Boston went off without a hitch on Friday. This morning I got a chance to wander around the city a bit before meeting up with two of my co-workers and their significant others who happened to be in Boston to go to the Red Sox game. We decided to meet at Boston Beer Works around noon.
I got there early to get a table - which was a good idea because the place was packed. Bostonians love their beer, especially at 11:30 am on a Saturday!
As I rounded a corner looking to see if my peeps were there yet a young woman caught my eye. She looked just like one of my friends from my days working at the CambridgeSide Galleria - back in 1996-1998.
I did a double-take, but she really didn't seem to notice. Probably wasn't her. Couldn't be her. It ... it might be her?
Now, granted, ever since I've been home I've thought I've recognized so many people. Heck, in Philly last week I thought I saw Jake Garver from Freshman year!
But this ... this was different. See, I had this major, major crush on this woman. I mean, her adjective was actually a nice one ... "Little Kristin" - as opposed to "Crazy Holly" or "Crazy Mychelle" ... or, you guessed it, "Crazy Leah". (What can I say? I know a few crazies!)
So finally I work up my nerve (a/k/a drank 20 ounces of Fenway Pale Ale) and asked her, "Excuse me, are you ..."
And she cuts me off, "I thought that was you!"
Now, words can't describe how cute she is. Well, there are words out there, I'm just not good enough to actually use them to form the sentences which would give her the correct credit. She's a doll. She's so cute that you just want to hug her the minute you see her smile. Big ol' bear-hug.
Of course, because she was with a dude I restrained myself.
Good thing - it turns out it was her HUSBAND.
So this is where the rant starts. I'm trying to figure how to do it without sounding bitter, but, again, my words fail me.
I know I moved away to pursue my dreams and blah-blah-blah. I don't expect everything to be the same on my return. My favorite used CD shop on Newbury St is gone, as is my favorite bookstore. Tower Records is now Virgin Megastore. And every woman that I know or meet or see is married, engaged, or with-child.
It's getting old. Fast.
Anyway, my fancy business cards finally came into use - thank God I had one with me - and maybe when I'm in town next time I can catch up, say 'hi' and maybe properly meet and congratulate the man who married my Little Krisitin.
So I'm off to Boston for work now, another concert thing on Friday. Staying two nights. Hopefully it's going to be good weather, too.
I'll let you know how it goes ...
Wow, I was totally shocked by something in the news today. No, it wasn't that a high ranking former FBI official, Mark Felt, came out admitting that he was "Deep Throat." Nor was it that the Canadian Red Cross supplied contaminated blood which infected thousands with HIV and hepatitis C. Even the fact that not Sandler nor DreamWorks Animation (the creators of Shrek) nor that Sith movie could bring the box-office up from last year's tally.
Nope. These didn't amaze me. Not even the fact that the citizens of France rejected the European Union constitution, dealing a crippling blow to the EU, phased me.
What caught me did, however, have to deal with a Paris. Two, to be fair.
Paris Hilton got engaged.
To a dude.
Named Paris.
I'll repeat that for the slow people in the audience: Paris Hilton got engaged to a dude named "Paris".
Outside of Shakespeare plays I didn't even know that guys were even named Paris.
Regardless, psuedo-celebrity Paris Hilton is news. Not for acting in House of Wax. Not for being a reality TV star in "The Simple Life". Not for shilling hamburgers for Carls Jr in pornographically charged ads. Not even for fellating her even less famous boyfriend on the internet. Not for any of these, specifically, but for all of these combined. She has no real talent, ability, personality, but she's famous. It baffles me.
I mean, she's really not even cute. If any of us were millionaires we'd have the same makeup, waredrobe, stylists. We'd have access to the same marginal celebrities (who even knew that Lionel Richie had a daughter until the Simple Life came out?) We'd have time to be drunk and stupid at the hot clubs of the minute if we were even closely related to a billionaire.
Is our society that starved for entertainment and personality that we'll go looking for it in the unattractive, vapid, whorish daughters of rich men? For the love of Christ, NASCAR makes more sense than Paris Hilton's being a celebrity! And that's just driving around in circles, people!
But you know US Weekly, People and Star Magazine will skip the real headlines, the Bush administration ruining civil liberties, Guantanamo and the Koran and Newsweek, the poverty and hunger and Wal-Martization of the world, heck, even Angelina and Brad or Katie and Tom. Nope, the headline will be big and bold, "Paris and Paris: How Hilton found her love in Greek shipping heir Paris Latsis". They're the next Britney and Kevin. And Americans will eat it up, just like a spicy Carl's Jr. burger.
On my flight last Tuesday I got stopped at security at the Portland International Jetport.
Why?
Apparently I had a Allen Wrench in my carry-on.
Apparently the bolts on US Airways are six-headed. Keep that in mind, but please don't tell the terrorists.
Last Updated on: June 30, 2005
© 2005 Joshua Paul Edwards
"Bush to Ask Americans for Patience on Iraq".
I like to call it, "Defensive Much?"
06/25/05 - God, I Hate Tim Duncan!
then when he does all I want to do is make fun of him more ...
06/24/05 - New Toy That I Want!
06/23/05 - Too Long.
for you to mass produce custom silicone wristbands,
then you just have to assume the worst.
06/23/05 - Melodic Words.
06/16/05 - Funny Birthday Card.
I'd say his glasses are on crooked,
but it might just be his face ...
06/14/05 - DC Comics has a new logo!
06/12/05 - An open letter to Tom Cruise.
Josh
06/04/05 - Weird Boston.
06/02/05 - Beantown
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