Pancake City

For 7 years, I had a dream to do stand-up comedy, but I never got beyond the stage of fantasizing about it because I stutter, sometimes severely. Besides the fear of stuttering in front of a large group of strangers, I couldn’t see how I could be successful in an art where timing is everything.

Well, I still stutter, but I decided to practice a short stand-up act and perform it at the National Stuttering Association convention (a.k.a. “Stutterpalooza”) in Nashville. The extremely bare-bones version of the story is that I performed my routine at the closing ceremonies in front of a few hundred people. I told myself before I took the stage that just getting up there, no matter how it went, would be a success. Just between you and me (okay, and Tibor too) I also secretly wanted to make their spleens explode from laughing. I got nowhere close, but I got enough laughs and compliments afterwards that I’m thinking about giving it another shot.

I have a lot more to say about the experience, and the conference itself, but after replaying a tape recording of my act several times and watching the emotion and memory bleed away from it with every playing, I’m not sure I want to replay it again, even if the replaying is in a different medium.

At 4:30 A.M. tomorrow, I’ll be awake and off to my secret mission. I call it a secret mission because one, only a few people know of it, and two, I need more excitement in my life and humming the Mission Impossible theme as I roll out of bed isn’t doing it.

If any part of my endeavor succeeds, I’ll recount it when I get back on Monday. Otherwise, you’ll never hear about it again, just like all my failures, including the time I ran into a giant snapping turtle. (All I’m going to say is that if the turtle didn’t want anyone sitting on it, it shouldn’t have had a butt-shaped divot on its shell.)

Occasionally I come across an awesome song that just begs to be shared.

“Please, please share me,” says the song. “I’m really catchy, I compress really well, and I’ll be your bestest friend.”
“Okay, song” I say. “But if I hear anyone complaining about distortion or lameness…”
“Oh, don’t worry! I’ll be melodic, funkadelic, and earn you mucho respect. Please please please please please…”
“Okay, okay. Hold on to your electrons. I’m sending you over.”

This song is Ja Sei Namorar by Tribalistas (click on the band to buy the CD). I’ve listened to a few of their others songs and they’re almost as good, although not as infectious.

I’m calling in my dream chip today, the once-a-season chip I give myself for a self-indulgent post about my dreams, an infinitely interesting subject to myself, and a likely infinitely uninteresting subject to everyone else.

Have you ever waken up form a dream, and then after something freaky happened realized you were still in a dream? That happened to me five times in succession this morning. It was like entering parallel Universes of my life where the main events were the same but the details varied. The programs on my computer were different. A telemarketer called in two of the dreams and offered me a job (different job in each dream). In the second dream, he asked, “Did I talk to you before?” And, among other themes, I kept on waking up late for an appointment I had that day, albeit at different times in each dream.

Each time I “woke up”, I caught on quicker that I was still dreaming, at which point I would try to get out of it. Nothing I did worked. In the last dream, I was almost hysterical. I pleaded with my sister Michele to help me get out. She said, “Don’t worry, just listen to this record.” “What is the record supposed to do?” “Don’t worry. Just listen to it.” She put on a record by Belle and Sebastian. After a few seconds, I got drowsy and closed my eyes. When I tried to open my eyes again, I had to force them open, and when I did, I was finally awake.

“Please,” begs Greenspan, “we’ll pay you to borrow money.”

On a staircase at a parking garage, I saw a sign that said “Warning! Slippery while wet.”

Is there anything that’s not slippery while wet? This sign is essentially saying, “Warning! Cement-based staircase does not mitigate slippery property of water when said water rests on surface.”

What would be an interesting sign is “Not slippery while wet.” This staircase of the future would have hot air steamers underneath the concrete or Velcro seeds that sprout immediately when wet. And—this is the most important part–it would be a moving staircase. But not like an escalator, because that has already been done.

Do you know the story of the man who tried to jump in his pants to save time? Although that was stupid, when are architects going to start putting roofless moonbounces under windows so people can exit quicker?

There are hundreds of cool tricks you can do with a Zippo.

I’ve been both lazy and busy lately. Hence the easy comedy.

Health Premiums Set to Jump Again

Police Try to Talk Premiums Down from Building

WHO Lifts SARS Advisory for Beijing

Replaces It with SARS Death Watch

Commuters Find Daily Enlightenment

Honking Horn Almost As Fun As Shooting People

Justice Backs Evangelists in Schools

Evangelists to Fight with Pepsi, Channel One TV for Kids’ Minds and Souls

Blood, Guts, Brains & Spirit
Satanic Taoist Band Sweeps Nation

Outside, the Mosquitoes Are Hungry
Zombies Not Far Behind

Software Shows Clients the Money
Mean Software Then Hides Money, Pretends It Doesn’t Know What Clients Are Talking About

Survey Shows Universe’s Growth
73% of Respondents Welcome ‘More Room For Stuff’

GWU Will Educate Saudi Royals
America Is Good. You Love America. McDonalds Has Tasty Fries…

Thanks to db’s monitoring blog and Everybody Got Their Something for the links. Although I neurotically check my server logs, the system I’m on rarely picks up where traffic is coming from, so let me know if I missed you.

I cringed at every page but I couldn’t stop reading. They found a kid in high school with a crush on Jodie Sweetin, who played “Stephanie” on “Full House,” and started a fake romance with him. It’s still going on.

“Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls, and it looks like work.”
- Thomas Edison

Okay, Edison is probably right. But after reading this quote, I had an insatiable desire to reanimate his corpse just so I could punch him.

EDISON: “Wha…what? Those lights? I’m alive. Is this the future?”
ME: “Yes it is, Mr. Edison.”
EDISON: “Hmm. By the appearance of your dirty overalls, it seems that you are a farmer, young man.”
ME: “No, granddad. I’m opportunity. And I’ve come to pay you another visit. POW!”
EDISON: “Ouch! Dear heavens, why did you do that?”
ME: “We got a little saying in Opportunity Town. It’s called, “The Early Bird Gets The Fist In The Face.” BA-BAM!
EDISON: “Oh, my! Everything is growing dark.”
ME: “Sounds like you need 100 watts of fist.” [EDISON slumps down on ground. I pull out a cigar and light it by striking it across my face.]
ME: “Edison. You’re Edi-DONE.” [laugh uproariously until credits roll.]

I need counseling.

Hispanics Declared Largest Minority

Taco Bell Blamed For Record Girth

Lessons Are Hard-Learned in Congo

‘G Before N, Unless There Are Two Os’ Confusing

Bush: Tax Cuts Will Boost Economy

Monocle Sales Up 72%

Y Chromosome Can Fix Gene Errors

X Chromosome Drinks Beer All Day, Fixes Nothing

Mind Games May Trump Alzheimer’s

Scientists Recommend Ignoring Grandma, Pretending Like She’s Not There

If you’re wondering why I am posting so much today, the answer is simple: I am working on a job application.

The abridged script. This is quite funny.

No, really. Don’t ask. I’m not going to answer any questions.