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that's rain, not snow
looks heavenly,no? looks can be deceiving
...but no sign of the 7ft tall gay basketball player
...but no sign of the 7ft tall gay basketball player
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
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On Saturday I flew across country - from LA to NJ - on United/Continental Airlines and, let me tell you, it was a sad joke.
It started off rotten because I was running late. Okay, that was my fault; but -whew! thank ye Jesus! - I made it in the nick of time. Just not in time to check my bag into cargo (for which they charge $25!!) but the Counter assured me I could check it in at the gate. As I am going through the bull pen of TSA with my two carry-on and the to-be-checked bag the latter is halted. I have liquids inside. But not just any liquid. A practically full bottle of single malt whiskey. (It was practically full because I was saving it for my trip to Mexico...one must pack the necessities. No gracias, tequila ain't for me.)
It was futile to argue with the Totally Stupid Anus worker that the said alcohol would be checked into cargo and, thus, not on board. No, sir, he explained, it can't even be at this point. And he confiscated it. I don't remember scotch being suspected of hijacking the planes that supposedly crashed into the Pentagon and brought down the Twin Towers. But what irked me more was the checked-baggage fee I would have to pay -- for no real reason now.
Blankets were provided but absolutely no snack or beverage. Imagine! A cross-country flight and the bastards did not serve us a coffee or pop or bag of peanuts! How more goddamn cheap can they get?! Answer: they wanted passengers to pay for snack packages. I had to ask for a cup of water to take my nighttime pill. The ticket cost close to $200 and United/Continental are to tight to provide complimentary beverages. That's just ridiculous.
I won't be flying United/Continental anymore.
On Saturday I flew across country - from LA to NJ - on United/Continental Airlines and, let me tell you, it was a sad joke.
It started off rotten because I was running late. Okay, that was my fault; but -whew! thank ye Jesus! - I made it in the nick of time. Just not in time to check my bag into cargo (for which they charge $25!!) but the Counter assured me I could check it in at the gate. As I am going through the bull pen of TSA with my two carry-on and the to-be-checked bag the latter is halted. I have liquids inside. But not just any liquid. A practically full bottle of single malt whiskey. (It was practically full because I was saving it for my trip to Mexico...one must pack the necessities. No gracias, tequila ain't for me.)
It was futile to argue with the Totally Stupid Anus worker that the said alcohol would be checked into cargo and, thus, not on board. No, sir, he explained, it can't even be at this point. And he confiscated it. I don't remember scotch being suspected of hijacking the planes that supposedly crashed into the Pentagon and brought down the Twin Towers. But what irked me more was the checked-baggage fee I would have to pay -- for no real reason now.
Imagine! A cross-country flight and the bastards did not serve us a coffee or pop or bag of peanuts! How more goddamn cheap can they get?!Well! I got to the plane - yes, I was the last one - and plopped down into one of the many empty rows of seats I was walking pass instead of the one assigned me all the way in the crowded back. A plus. Then I casually stored all three bags away. That's right: I didn't get stiffed with the $25 fee. Another plus; so the loss of the scotch was cancelled out. I stretched out on all three seats and tried my best to sleep.
Blankets were provided but absolutely no snack or beverage. Imagine! A cross-country flight and the bastards did not serve us a coffee or pop or bag of peanuts! How more goddamn cheap can they get?! Answer: they wanted passengers to pay for snack packages. I had to ask for a cup of water to take my nighttime pill. The ticket cost close to $200 and United/Continental are to tight to provide complimentary beverages. That's just ridiculous.
I won't be flying United/Continental anymore.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
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No time in Los Angeles is complete without some time spent at Venice Beach.
Being there is wonderful. Getting there is a pain in the ass. The bus ride to Venice and Santa Monica Beaches is long, tiresome, long, and an exercise in withstanding mental torture, what with all of the mentally ill Angelinos and other rude, boisterous people. Did I mention the sixty-minute - on average! - bus ride is long? To compound the riding experience, a television monitor loops the same broadcast ad nauseam.
plaque for 3time Mr Olympia Frank Zane
( click here to see pics of me!)
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
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Stuck Elevator is playing all this month at the American Conservatory Theatre (A.C.T.) in San Francisco. It is the stage adaptation of the true story of a Chinese immigrant deliveryman who endured more than a weekend - 81 hours, to be precise! - stuck inside of an elevator in a Bronx apartment building. I took in a show here the last time I was in S.F.
Short of food, drink, lavatory or human company (or even a mobile phone)...a miserable experience, as you can imagine.
The special effects of traveling along the protagonist's waning mental state and hopelessness - his delusions and longing memories brought on by solitary confinement - was entertaining. He's back in the past inside the ship container being smuggled into America; he's in the present pleading with his Hispanic immigrant co-worker; he's in the future being cannibalized by family and acquaintances; he's riding his bike in the sky -- and all of this inside of his head inside of the stuck elevator. Brilliant.
Stuck Elevator is playing all this month at the American Conservatory Theatre (A.C.T.) in San Francisco. It is the stage adaptation of the true story of a Chinese immigrant deliveryman who endured more than a weekend - 81 hours, to be precise! - stuck inside of an elevator in a Bronx apartment building. I took in a show here the last time I was in S.F.
Short of food, drink, lavatory or human company (or even a mobile phone)...a miserable experience, as you can imagine.
It is not a musical but, unfortunately, worse: an opera in the English language.The production is billed as a musical but I paid to see it nonetheless. It is however not a musical (thankfully) but, unfortunately, worse: an opera in the English language. The singing is superb but the rhythm and kick of the songs is awful. It sounds so off beat and incomprehensibly jangled. And this went on throughout the show; no dialogue interrupted by singing but, rather, singing punctuated by the rare exchange of characters actually speaking. It pissed me off. I could not wait for that noise to end -- but since I so wanted to see how the unlucky deliveryman got out of the stalled Otis I stayed put.
The special effects of traveling along the protagonist's waning mental state and hopelessness - his delusions and longing memories brought on by solitary confinement - was entertaining. He's back in the past inside the ship container being smuggled into America; he's in the present pleading with his Hispanic immigrant co-worker; he's in the future being cannibalized by family and acquaintances; he's riding his bike in the sky -- and all of this inside of his head inside of the stuck elevator. Brilliant. 
imagine being stuck in this elevator
nah, I'd rather be stuck with me!
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
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Came up to San Francisco for a week to escape LA. Instead of being chilly and windy, like LA, the weather has been gorgeously sunny and hot! -- high seventies every day. The locals don't know what to do with themselves. They're so crazy happy to have a practical excuse to don flip-flops and shorts and tank-tops. And who can blame them?
It was either here or San Diego. I'm already convinced San Diego is utterly boring so it was but to takes my chances with the colorful and hilly earthquake-prone Saint Francisco. Glad I did. And glad there was no earthquake.
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on the road again |
It was either here or San Diego. I'm already convinced San Diego is utterly boring so it was but to takes my chances with the colorful and hilly earthquake-prone Saint Francisco. Glad I did. And glad there was no earthquake.
Monday, April 15, 2013
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