Earth Day My Eye

Greetings tree huggers, baby seal cleaners and recyclers of all ilk. Today is Earth Day, a day set aside to remind us to take care of the planet that so lovingly takes care of us. Sure, it takes care of us, unless it decides to unleash a tsunami, earthquake, drought, hurricanes, well you get the picture, but like an emotionally abused child on Mother or Father's Day, we need to block those things out and send a card.

I was trying to figure out a fitting way to honor Earth Day and give Mother Nature a proverbial reach around. I could try to put out the tire and Styrofoam fire that has been burning out back since 2006. Maybe I could stop dumping my used engine oil down the sewer or strip mining the baseball field at the park. I'm sure those would all be good, but they all seem to require a Herculean effort and since my commitment to Greek mythology ended the day I bought "Daughter" Disney's Hercules, I'll have to try something else.

I know, I'll reduce my carbon footprint by cutting this short and turning off the computer. Seriously, right after I watch three hours of Dragnet 1968 on Hulu.com and send a few emails. Happy Earth Day. Later...Brian

Cougars and Earthquakes and Popes Oh My!

What a week! So much is happening that the mother board in my little brain overloaded and shutdown. Where to begin? Let's start with the fact that like Carole King, at about 4:30 this morning I felt the earth move under my feet. Thankfully I did not feel the sky tumblin' down, tumblin' down. Mother Nature decided that the Midwest had not endured enough, what with an extended winter followed by tornadoes and flooding, and decided to rock and roll the joint with an earthquake that measured a 5.2 on the Richter scale. I'm no seismologist, but that seems pretty strong to me. It was so strong, that despite the epicenter being about 240 miles South of Chicago, the tremors were felt all the way to Milwaukee to the North and Marietta (home of the big chicken) Georgia to the South. The shaking woke me up, but I didn't realize why I was awake and went right back to sleep. "Wife" however had a different reaction. I'll save you her theory as to why the bed was shaking violently enough to wake her up. Suffice it to say it involved me and an unholy activity. Why that was her first response, I'll never know, but once that thought left her dirty mind, she realized that neither Jerry Lee Lewis nor I were responsible for the whole lotta shakin' that was goin' on. I feel sorry for "Wife". One of the main reasons she gave me for fleeing the temperate climate of sunny Southern California was her almost paralyzing fear of earthquakes. To be roused from slumber by a quake in Chicago is the ultimate irony. It's as if she's being stalked by what she fears most. Well, maybe not what she fears most judging from her initial hypothesis as to the cause of the shaking.

I should stop now, but since this post has such a clever title, I better cover the other topics quickly. A cougar was shot by Chicago police the other day as it roamed untethered through a neighborhood. No, it wasn't a randy soccer mom on the hunt for a playmate, that's what I thought too, but an actual cougar. I won't bore you with the science regarding why cougars are now walking among us, but it's a little freaky. Some of the more unenlightened were angry with the police for killing the majestic cat. According to these animal lovers, the police should always be carrying tranquilizer guns in the off chance they run across a 150 pound killing machine that walks on four legs instead of two. I'm not a proponent of wholesale animal killings, but if I were heading down an alley and a cougar turned to come at me, I've got two words for you, Fire Away! Cougars are hard wired to do one thing, be cougars, which means, stalk, kill and eat things. I'd rather have a dead cougar than hear of a kindergarten kid becoming the blue plate special at the wilderness cafe.

If you couldn't tell from all the funny hats, the Pope is in the country. This is Pope Benedict 16 (I didn't look up the Roman numerals) first visit to our country. Yesterday he met with victims of clergy abuse and apologized to them. He's been having to answer questions about that issue since he touched down. It's about time. I know that sitting with the Pope can't erase the horrible things that happened to the victims, but it's good to see him make the effort after all the years of covering up the church has done in this country.

All right, I gotta run. I've got some highly technical projects I need to attend to and I'm procrastinating like Pat O'Brien is leading me down the long hall to my date with the chair. I really have no more diversions I can justify, so it's off to work. Don't miss the big show on WGN tomorrow night/Sunday morning. I could tell you we have a fun, entertaining and informative program planned, but if you listen, you already know that, so I'll just tell you that you won't be disappointed. Have a great weekend. Later...Brian

Just Another Mundane Monday

My apologies to the Bangles for co-opting the title of their fine 80's hit. On second thought, I withdraw my apology. What are Suzanna Hoffs et al going to do? Maybe they'll walk like Egyptians over here and we can have it out. Our feud will burn like an eternal flame. I would have added some more songs to that joke, but after those three hits, the Bangles are off my musical radar. I should have chose a Journey song and then I could have run out a streak of references.

The morning started off with me listening to every windbag and mic jockey talking about Barack Obama's statements over the weekend. Since I can't get to my microphone until next Saturday, this will have to suffice. Obama said that small town people are bitter, and frustrated so they cling to religion, guns, fear those who are different and are anti-immigrant. His Democratic opponents and Republican adversaries are calling him elitist. I'm calling him honest. Have you ever spent any time in small town America? Go to any rural community that has been ravaged by the economy and see how accepting those folks are to outsiders. Some of them are carrying guns to church and then yelling at the Mexican busboys working at the Sirloin Stockade breakfast bar. Doesn't it strike you as odd that rich, white, pampered politicians are calling another politician elitist? Hell yeah he's elitist and so are Clinton and McCain. Did you get a gander at the tax returns of those people? None of them are rubbing elbows with the great unwashed on a humid Sunday afternoon at the local Wal-mart. Check all of their resumes. I guarantee there's not a GED or community college on any of them. I want my leaders to be somewhat elitist. Who wants some yahoo with bad diction and dubious dental hygiene running the country? It would be nice for them to have some contact with the real world. I want the president to know the cost of milk and gas, but I don't need him pumping his own and then running into the AM/PM for a gallon of 2%. Besides, call me crazy, but anyone who has been in the cloistered world of government for as long as any of these people have are not common folks any longer. They may want you to believe they are, but just watch the horror in their eyes as they choke down a funnel cake while stumping at the county fair and you'll know they are longing for some lobster salad in the Congressional dining room.

The rest of the day doesn't hold much excitement. How's this for glamorous? I'm off to change the sheets on the beds. See, I'm no elitist. I could have my domestics do it, but I like to keep some semblance of normalcy, that, and I have no domestics. (Post Interrupted) Hey, here's some news. I just got a call from my agent. (elitist and show bizzy) I got a call back for the commercial I auditioned for Friday. I guess they want to see a little more topless man candy. I will oblige. Look at that, mixing the mundane with the exotic to create another day in my vida loca. See what I did there? I started the post with a song and ended with a song. I'm not apologizing to Ricky Martin either. Later...Brian

Best Laid Plans and Guilt

This week started out with such promise. As I told you, I was lucky enough to attend the White Sox home opener Monday afternoon. If I may quote singer/world saver Bono, "it was a beautiful day-ay-ay." The sun was shining, the kabobs sizzled invitingly on the collapsible grill, the beer flowed freely and my cigar stayed lit. The Sox winning in dramatic fashion was the icing on the cake. Things were going swimmingly as I got home and settled in for the night with "Wife and "Daughter". I should have suspected that the fickle finger of fate would point it's gnarled digit my way.

After falling into a peaceful slumber, I was awakened Tuesday morning at two by a pain I can only describe as "Holy S**t! Somebody hit me in the head with a machete!" Let's be clear, I've had my share of headaches in the past brought on by various causes, but nothing that ever yanked me from deathlike slumber. I downed four ibuprofen and slipped back into the land of nod. When the alarm went off at six, my head still felt like Joe Pesci had it in a vice and I had been caught counting cards and fondling a showgirl in Vegas circa 1967. Over the next 34 hours I ingested more pain killers than I had in my previous forty some years. I had planned on updating here more this week, but the sound of the clicking keys made me want blow up the house, but even in my altered state, I realized the explosion would most certainly be louder and more annoying. I did however have to go to an audition. It was for a prestigious theater company so I couldn't pass it up. Have you ever tried to play a Russian enforcer, complete with bad accent, while little gnomes in your head were trying to push out your eyes? Me either, but except for the gnomes, the rest is true. I'll make a long story short, since reading this is probably giving you a headache on par with mine. I took "Wife's" advice/nagging and went to the doctor. He yanked my neck around, gave me some medicine and after the frequent and recommended dosage, the headache mercifully ended Wednesday night, just in time for my heart to be ripped out.

As you know I am an unapologetic fan of American Idol. Wednesday night was the second annual "Idol Gives Back" charity drive to help save the world. I don't know exactly how much of the billions of dollars the show makes Idol actually gives back, but I do know that they want us to give, and they pull out all the stops to get their way. Only the truly heartless wouldn't be moved by film clips of children dying of AIDS and malaria in Africa or impoverished children in Kentucky and other parts of the US. You know me, I'm all heart, but come on, after the first seven clips, I get the picture. I'll make you a deal, I'll double my donation if you cut one of the clips and show me five more minutes of Fergie doing one handed cartwheels in her skin tight leather pants. Hubba Hubba! "Wife" got caught up in the moment and wanted to make a contribution, but only wanted to do so if she could make the donation to one of the top twelve Idols who were mock answering disconnected phones in the studio. I wish I were lying when I tell you she hung up at least six times because she got through to Jenny, Bob, or some other well meaning volunteer who couldn't carry a tune well enough to enter the pop culture psyche. Finally, as the finalists were performing their closing number, she relented and let some nameless, fame less, phone jockey take our money.

I'm off. I have another audition today. This one is for a commercial. Here's some horrifying news, I have to do it shirtless. I know there are some chubby chasers who might like to gaze upon my hairy form, and truth be told, I have made two TV appearances sans shirt, (no, not Cops, real shows where I got paid and built up my union health insurance), but standing in a cold room acting like an under dressed giant is making me a bit antsy. We'll see how it goes. Show biz...gotta love it. Try to stay up late or wake up at an ungodly hour Saturday night/Sunday morning for another installment of "the original and still the best" WGN Overnight. The show is still being built, but we'll have the Arcade, "Idol Chatter" and a financial expert to help us survive these tough economic times. I may even tell my riveting headache story. Don't miss it. Have a great weekend. Later....Brian

Take Me Out....

To the ball game. That's the plan for today. I was fortunate enough to get an invite to the White Sox home opener and I'm as excited as a kid on Christmas. Well, that might be an overstatement since Christmas morning never included, beer, cigars, and large men in ill fitting replica jerseys. After years of missing opening day, this is my second one in as many years. I like this tradition. It makes me fell manly, American and slightly buzzed, not a bad trio.

The morning is going to be filled with the hectic assembly of chicken kabobs and a chili pepper infused cheese ball. Fancy right? Sure we could go old school and grill up some hot dogs, but we're evolved, refined tailgaters, not run of the mill parking lot cooks. "Wife" was kind enough to whip up some key lime bars to satisfy my sweet tooth and give us the sugar boost we'll need to walk to the park after hours of pre-game fun.

I know I've been gone awhile. I missed telling you about "Daughter's" Spring Break which ate up an entire week, my birthday, which was nice by the way, since I've been adopting a new attitude that seems to be making life a bit easier, and Hillary Clinton dodging imaginary gun fire. A lot of folks bashed Hillary for that, but not me. Who among us hasn't come off an exceptionally rough night and felt like snipers had taken off the top of our heads. I also had my yearly visit with the accountant to deal with the "Man". Yes, just like a large man in a velor track suit with a surname ending in a vowel, the IRS wanted their cut of my financial empire. How disappointed they must be with said cut. Wow, now that I think of it there were a lot of things that needed to be dissected here, but unlike Marty McFly, I can't go back in time. If I could, I'd have Huey Lewis put on retainer. That guy ruled, but I digress. I'm all about looking to the future.

Part of the reason I decided to make time to post this morning is because I was forced to realize again how limited our time here can be. I found out the other day that one of my neighbors died. We found out too late to go to the wake, etc. and were shocked by the news. He went into the doctor for a physical, found out he was filled with cancer and was gone in a few months. I liked the guy. He was an old school South Sider. Sometimes he said things that were a little outside the PC norm, but he seemed like a good guy. He was also a fan of this forum and would quote it whenever we saw each other. So this one's for you Denny. God speed.

I'm off. The kabobs aren't going to assemble themselves. Baseball is back. Can Summer be far away? Go Sox! Later...Brian