10/24/04 1:32 AM: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you ...

When I started writing this, there was a heavy, powerful storm falling over Los Angeles. At that time, rain had been relentlessly pelting the City of Lost Angels for what seems like more than seventy years. I've been up watching the news, finishing some work in the middle of an extremely busy week, and finding that the rain is worst in every area outside the city proper. Los Angeles itself, for its problems with drainage and city planning, seems to be faring a lot better than the suburbs of San Gabriel and the horror behind the Orange Curtain. Once again, my mother's manifesto of staying in the basin keeps me safer than the supposed refuges of the outlands. The irony has not escaped me.

On to the news ...

ISOLATED: The end of a friendship affected me a lot more than I've let on to most people. I am trying to learn how to balance my sense of personal contentment with my recurrent inability to connect with other people. Developing ...

LOVE NOTES: I was halfway through coding up a whole new section of the site to center on my love life when I just stopped. I like talking about these events, I even like writing about it, but given the bad experiences I've had in the past -- embittered sisters sending angry emails, vitriolic voice mails, diminished sex, etc. -- I just decided it was easier to stew in silence and keep on my isolated path.

So no, I won't talk about the time that a honey-complected woman just started talking to me at Simply Wholesome, only partially because nothing came of it. I won't discuss the up-and-coming comedienne who sang with me and flirted with me and then dropped off the face of the earth. No time to talk about the gorgeous older poetry fan who's suddenly single and interested in "catching up." I won't go into helping a script supervisor from The Bernie Mac Show get her computer situation together while she was deciding to date somebody else, partially because it makes me look like a sucker. I won't even discuss the delusional Leo/Virgo mix I dated who, after parting ways, rearranged events in her own head to make herself the victim (partially because she has a physical condition caused by a head trauma some years ago which makes her memory an iffy thing at all, part of why she ended up wandering off from me ... she'd just convince herself she was right in her version of the memories anyway). These stories and more will remain untold. Publicly anyway.

And no, I won't tell you which of the women at the left here I am discussing a graphic novel project with (however, she did make a point to tell me she's disgruntled with her boyfriend, who only has sex with her once every two weeks), which one reluctantly stopped dating me when her child's father re-entered the picture (which ended up funny when we ran into one another after that, and she's still very clearly interested, but sticking with her decision), and which one is the most important person in my life right now (a wonderful diaphanous angel who clearly will lead to something horrible, as all good things do). Figure it out for yourself, and if you're one of the very few people I am willing to discuss my everyday life with, you probably already know some of those answers anyhow.

That said, I have effectively stopped searching out "new accounts." The aforementioned honey-complected sister (is that even spelled right? Oh, who cares ...) really showed me how good the jump shot has become, but now I have no real motivation to use it. I've been on a lot of first dates, and a few second ones. After that, not so much, and that's really tiresome (which is why I got bored and stupid and got married in the first place). So I'm really only dating one person right now, and have only been dating her for a while now. There's some things keeping me from making a commitment (including not believing that anything ends well and not really being capable of fulfilling certain roles in her life) but she seems happy with things just coasting along as they are and so am I. I am kind of reminded of the relationship my former neighbor Leon had with his girl Rose, eight years together and still living in separate houses, still maintaining very separate but interconnected lives. It just seems smarter than what is considered "traditional" pairings, half of which end up in dissolution. So that's that, for now. If I feel suicidal and/or revelatory at a later date, well, clearly you'll know.

WHAT DO I CARE? I've found myself saying that phrase a great deal more. Driving by an overturned tractor trailer on a rainy freeway, examining the woes of people around me, considering events in the news. It's almost become a mission statement. While getting an impromptu massage at a baby shower (long, stupid story), I was told that I'm just displacing the worry and frustration, but I don't notice it. I'm kind of just floating through life, working the jobs and trying to keep creative endeavors going (I've finished production on "The Pie Song" and a newer piece called "Inscrutable" and have only to finish the lyrics now). I don't really know consider this but of course my default position is, "well, what do I care?" Developing ...

BOOB: I am watching a lot of TV these days. I've been staying in and trying to save up some money for car registration and repairs and the like ('Bane is very tempermental -- actually died on me with clogged fuel injectors two Fridays ago). So I've discovered some things and really started to enjoy some things.

Too many shows to really be authoritative on, so in short ...

• Dance 360 is the spiritual offspring of Soul Train. Despite having the goofy looking Kel Mitchell and the laughable Fredro Starr as hosts, the show's focus on young people dancing makes up for it. Most of the show is comprised of the "contest" where audience members dance against each other for a paltry prize ($360 in cash and a game console), but the real treat (for them and for me) is seeing people dancing. There's often a mix of classical training (visible in spins and kicks) and real street dance, which is always very kinetic. The show revives the "street battle" idea of conflict resolution, as the only way to win is be a better dancer. I also like the "master the move" section where other audience members try to stump the contestants with original, often improvised "moves" of their own invention. American Bandstand ain't got nothin' on this, even if it's on at 12:30 in the morning. Heck, even the Keke Shepherd-free Showtime at the Apollo just started doing a boo-free dance contest. Dancing is back, and I'm too lazy to learn the hyper-kinetic steps of today (not that the stuff I did in high school was low-impact). Still fun to watch, as everybody seems to be having so much fun (unlike most of the soul-less drones on Soul Train).
• After kind of trudging along, UPN's All Of Us (ushered into life by Will and Jada Pinkett Smith) has finally found a balance between hard issues of a divorce and the realities of a sitcom -- needing to be funny. This season the jokes are on point and the counter-balance is managed perfectly. Finally worth watching, whereas I was just watching for LisaRaye and Elise Neal (both nummier than anyone has a right to be) before.
• While on the subject of UPN, Kevin Hill has inherited a lot of the old energy of Ally McBeal (with Taye Diggs producing this new show after being on Ally he knows why it was successful), while keeping a nice snarky energy in the form of Jon Seda's Dame Ruiz (who showed a surprising vulnerability in this week's basketball-enhanced episode). Having fun with that. True, Boston Legal should be Ally's real heir apparent, but they're far too reliant on James Spader and Bill Shatner's presence: the rest of the cast are pretty boring, even Rene Auberjoinois and Lake Bell as the formerly trampy Sally Heep. Hill makes even plain faces fascinating.
• Finishing off our UPN round, Second Time Around has the same problem All of Us had last season -- too much drama and not enough comedy. Plus, Boris and Nicole don't really seem to be funny people, her even less than him. He can at least play the stiff straight man role easily, but she's no Dharma.
• I miss Fox's Meth & Red. I don't care what anybody says, I thought it was hilarious, especially the suppressed romantic feelings between Meth and "Neighbor Lady." Then again, I miss Action too. Damn you Fox ...
• Ask me what's wrong with NBC's Father of the Pride. The animals are too ... human, too boring and too predictable. The animated Siegfreid and Roy, on the other hand, are amazing -- every single moment they're on screen is sheer comedy gold. But they're used too sparingly, and John Goodman's lead is too laissez-faire, the wife character too anonymous, the grumpy grandfather not grumpy enough, and the scheming tigers far too tame for their own good. Plus I hate the kids. A complete lack of balance and letting the players who can make big shots have room to do their thing.
• Conan O'Brien gets Jay Leno's spot in five years. I don't care. I only marginally watch Conan, as he's the best interviewer on at that time of night, and with the right guest he's set. But he talks too much and still, after all these years, tries too hard.
• Speaking of trying too hard, Jimmy Kimmel has settled down into a kind of rhythm. He's a lower-brow, less PC version of Kilborn with none of the savvy or shtick. Pure idiot frat boy, and still very weak on written comedic content, but coming along. Slowly.
• What's up with the rotating host shtick on CBS' Late Late Show? What's the hold up on finding a regular person for this spot? ard to watch ... and I never got a last session of Yambo when Kilby left (and I missed his last episode).
• I would never watch Last Call if anything at all of interest was on at that time of morning, despite tons of interesting guests (Danny Aiello singing? Neil Patrick Harris? Heck yeah ...)
• I'm pretty sure that, critical praise admitted, NBC's Scrubs is the most finely made sitcom on television. Crafted with the precision of a fine Swiss timepiece, every moment on screen simply sparkles. The core cast is balanced so well (I am really coming to appreciate balance in writing, which affects how I'm doing a lot of my work as well) that each cast member enhances the other. Plus, having Judy Reyes (seen here, so fine she should be illegal and her character so wonderful and supportive and amazing, like I said of Trinity, she has to be a fictional character) and making Heather Graham interesting after scores of lifeless performances (her whistling war with Drs. Cox and Kelso was a thing of beauty) should make a Nobel nomination a possibility. I'm just saying ...
• As precise if not as Scrubs, CBS' Two and a Half Men is consistently entertaining largely because of allowing Charlie Sheen to channel all of his bad boy history into his character. The rising acting ability of the kid also helps -- the kid now delivers one-liners with real zing. Most amazing of all is turning Jon Cryer, one of the funniest human beings I've ever seen acting, into a role player. It's like ... well, Jordan on the Washington Wizards, except with winning. Plus, I'm addicted to the vanity cards at the end, now having read all of 'em.
• Will & Grace is running on auto pilot. I watch it out of habit. If it cost money, I'd have dropped it.
• I watched the opening of LAX and kind of liked it, but despite enjoying some of the pieces, the whole formed no real connection with me so I didn't look for a spot to tape it. Ditto Medical Investigation despite really liking Neil McDonough's intensity as an actor.
• Las Vegas has too many bland, photogenic characters to do anything for me. It's not seamy enough to really be "Vegas, baby!"
• Desperate Housewives is my new favorite show because of two reasons: the framing device of the disembodied narration of dead neighbor Mary Alice Young (played by Sports Night femme fatale Brenda Strong) and the sheer level of incedulity they are willing to apply to virtually every situation. Another case of good balance, although I do feel the brilliant Felicity Huffman (who was Mary Strong's arch enemy on Sports Night coincidentally) gets short shrift and I could do with less Teri Hatcher (who I don't even think is vaguely attractive), but those are minor quibbles. Eva Longoria is simply scruptious, a visual vixen with a score of issues beneath her pretty little tresses, and Marcia Cross' Bree Van Der Camp is so scarily reminiscent of my ex-wife that it's like a horror movie for me every time she steps on screen (and her husband Rex is so doomed, it's ... man, it's a whole lot ... Bree is so scary ... just a hint of how ill Bree is, she said in front of all their friends, "Rex cries when he ejaclates." Damn!). It's so much that I tape it every week, and now share those tapes with my homegirl Dana, who works when it's on. So addictive.

SING SING SING: So I've started up another karaoke hosting job with a guy in Torrance -- the South Bay loves them some karaoke, it seems. There's things he does that I adore -- his DJ-styled mixer has some better ways of doing things, I love the built-in recording on his larger set, and he has a decent sound set up -- but ... well ...

He does some things that -- as a host and a singer -- drive me crazy. He doesn't pre-select discs before the singer comes up, which drives me nuts. He uses a clipboard, which is a decentralization of control that boggles my mind. He sets up the karaoke equipment on a kind of portable table that any out-of-control-drunk could topple with a simple fall. He has fewer than 6000 songs (by comparison, I have 1400). It's a lot more seat-of-the-pants than I like, and that's ... unsettling.

However, he's offering to pay thirty three percent more than anybody else I've ever worked for. Also, if he turns over the show to me completely, I can fix some of those things. It's a thing, and all things pass. Developing ...

RAY: One of my neighbors, Ray Cahill Jr. passed away recently. I learned a lot about him at the funeral, stuff I did not know. He was a Pittsburgh Steeler (although I can't find anything online about his career). I knew he went to USC, but didn't know he'd played football there, nor about the kind of role he played in a group of friends he met there. He had cancer, but virtually nobody knew until it killed him. He didn't wanna burden anybody, he didn't wanna be seen as anything different from "fun ol' Ray," and he wanted to do things his way.

I can relate to that.

Anyway, anedge hirak Ray Cahill Jr. Fight on, old soldier.

DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS: So I get, on average, about twenty possibly virus-laden emails a day from working at CBR. Mostly ".scr" and ".pif" files that my machine relentlessly destroys. I can't think of a way to stop people from sending 'em to me, so I have to work on localized defense. Which is a pain in the butt. But since my email software already automatically deletes any file of Microsoft origin, it's no real problem adding these new file extensions. Blah.

MAKING IT: Thanks to lots of fill-in shifts at the San Pedro and some sound fiscal responsibility (i.e. eating less interestingly and staying home more) I'm handling business, and gonna be able to get out of this month well, with new (and cheaper) car insurance (switching to Mercury, who knew?), car registration and a bunch of needed repairs on my car. I think this is a good thing.

SERIOUSLY ...: Is it legal to be as hot as Serena Williams is? I just saw her on a Ellen commericial wearing a tight t-shirt and jeans and ... wow. I know, I know, she's way too young for me, but good googa mooga!

THE YEAR OF THE BASTARD: So I've been watching the debates and laughing. A lot. John Kerry is not The Smiler of Transmetropolitan fame (although John Edwards might be, the resemblance is scary), and "Tough Job, Tough President" could easily have been a slogan devised by the Bush campaign instead of the one for The Beast, but it's all very ... well, just dumb. I mean, the sheer volume of lies, mistakes and miscues of this administration dwarf those by ... hell, any one in my short life. Yet the ability of this administration to deflect blame and retain the adoration of a disturbingly high number of voters ... it's almost like proving misanthropes right. Not that it matters, really.

So I keep having people tell me I should vote, including one of the barber's at the shop I go to (who really saved my butt, helping me push 'Bane out of the way when she died last week and dropping me off at home) and a woman who stopped dating me (that link may or may not work). I tell them all the same things: California's electoral vote will not be swayed my participation, that having the Gropenfuhrer as your Governator means that there can be improprieties in the electoral process, just like Bush's brother Jeb did in Florida, and that it's all pretty much an amusing exercise to make people feel involved (plus I don't wanna ever get stuck with jury duty). I like to think of more logical means and possible solutions.

Or, to simplify, like when Todd the barber asked me, "Hannibal, who's gonna win the election?" I replied, "That's easy -- Bush. He's gonna cheat."

IN CLOSING: Comics reviews have been updated over on that archive page, I've just been too lazy/busy/indifferent to make changes on the blog page. The noise from my car's engine is finally gone, and it sounds great. I am stuck trying to reformat a Mac iPod for Windows use, with less than a clue. Birth of a Nation by Reginald Hudlin, Aaron Magruder and Kyle Baker is the best single thing I've read this year. I'm turning into an audio snob -- when I hear somebody mic'ed improperly, I have to resist looking for the audio booth to tweak the knobs (happened at the funeral ... but bad mic technique on the vocalist helped as well). Every once in a while I get the desire to go out and buy a pinkie ring. So few people care about the quality of their work (especially people I work with) it's made me less than vigilant about my formerly relentless levels of perfectionism, except in my own work. I expect to have some more songs finished and posted soon. The Norm's restaurant in Lomita seems the only one that's not reluctant to make special "tempura style" chicken strips, which are so good it's just freakin' crazy. Oh, and I rediscovered folder icons and spent way too long customizing my Mac yesterday.

End of line.