Monthly Archives: June 2005

Well it didn’t take long

for me to post my first meta-blog. Yep, blogging about blogging. I just can’t help it. I’m not sure where this is gonna go so hang on.

I first came across The Wil’s blog many moons ago. I think it was linked off a Slashdot interview, I don’t really remember. I thought it was pretty cool and I started reading it every now and again. For the past year or so, I check it just about every day. I even bought one of his books (and plan to buy the other one Real Soon Now). His page lead me to Fark, which provides hours of entertainment. Also to Nickerblog and blogging.la which lead me to J. Sto. And I’m still finding more. Why am I reading actor’s blogs who live in the anti-Starkville all the way across the country from me? That’s a fair question.

I suppose the reason is two-fold.

Firstly, about a year ago I decided to do something other than go to work, come home and sit on the couch watching TV while my brain congealed. Actually That Moment, if you will, came while I was sitting on said couch watching said TV. I was watching SNL and I thought, Hey that would be fun, doing sketch comedy. It just took hold on my brain and hasn’t let go since. I have zero acting experience and I won’t go into all that has transpired since That Moment (that’s a future post) but see The Audition pt.1 and pt.2 for my first foray into the performing arts on the stage (er, not counting that whole trumpet thing I did for like 10 years).

I don’t know what I’d want as an end result from the acting experiment, but I’m determined to do something while I feel like it even though I’m afeared to step out and try something I’ve never done before that could cause myself public humiliation if I happen to suck at it. That was a trainwreck of a sentence. Um, so I enjoy reading actor/entertainment people’s blogs.

Secondly, they are well written blogs that have a pretty serious readership. These along with others (e.g. tonypierce) are my blog mentors. ‘Course, they don’ t know that, that’s how I keep from paying the blogging mentor fees, so keep that on the down-low for me. Awesome. They’ve been doing it much longer than I have and I’d say they’ve got a pretty good handle on it.

I haven’t written creatively or just plain written, for that matter, since high school english class. That part of my brain has atrophied due to all the technical studying and learning I did in college.

I installed movabletype on my personal domain to chronicle my switch to Mac but I didn’t keep it up for long and the comment spam was annoying. I’m still trying to find my “voice” for Inside Mr.KaryHead. Reading other, good blogs will help me get there. Wherever there is.

And you know, blogging is fun. It satisfies something for me. It’s a creative outlet and knowing that random people will happen upon it adds to the satisfaction. I’m writing for me but I want other people to interact. I’ll not deny there’s a certain amount of self-centeredness involved; I want to know that people are reading and if they find it an enjoyable read or not. I want to be accepted in the blogosphere, etc. Ok, that sounded gay but I’m leaving it (cause it’s true). I think that it takes time to build a readership and I’m ok with that, but dammit, by then I’ll have archives of totally sweet posts that no one will ever go back and read. Maybe that’s why some bloggers post links like Oh look where I was a year ago, etc. Yeah, I’ll remember that trick.

Aight that’s enough for a first meta-blog. I’ll no doubt remember something I wanted to say but forgot and be back.

It’s never too early to start practicing…


…for being an old man. That’s what I think. I don’t know how much of this will apply to the ladies, so ladies, just make notes so you can point and laugh at your man when he starts exhibiting old man traits.

At what point does one become a (crotchety) old man? I think it is a process, but there are signposts all along the journey. Be on the lookout for these siguls:

Dress socks and shoes with shorts I’ve seen this several times lately, at the mall and the Wal*Marts, for example. Sometimes it looks like they’re wearing their socks and shoes with naught else but a thin, white undershirt and a pair of pee-stained boxers. Really! I did a double-take at one elderly gent the other day. It looked like he started to change clothes after church and then thought better of it. I guess when you’ve got possibly days or minutes left to live, you can’t be taking precious time to completely change clothes; just strip off the suit and leave the socks and shoes, then go re-stock up on Metamucil at the store. Personally, I haven’t been guilty of this one yet.

No one, I mean no one, wants to go into the bathroom after you The bowel movement, for an old-timer, is a sacred time not to trifled with. A time when he can escape from the entrapments of the La-Z-Boy and TV and really concentrate on life and the crossword puzzle. And man, he can stank. it. up. I’ve totally got this one down. One day, after eating Taco Bell for lunch, I went into a building on campus to spend a few quiet moments alone. And alone I was for several minutes until some poor unsuspecting soul heeded nature’s call to the bathroom, opened the door and inhaled. I could hear footsteps outside in the hallway, the door opened and I heard his shoes slide to halt. There was a slight, just-long-enough-for-the-eyes-to-bulge-and-the-mind-to-boggle pause and then a sharp and significant Damn! and him hurrying back the way he had come, looking for another bathroom.

It’s Wal*Marts instead of Wal*Mart I don’t get this one, but I hear it from the gray-haired generation quite a bit. Make Wal*Mart or K-Mart or even Target plural and you’ve got it. This one is easy to spot so feel free to point and laugh at your friends as they show their age in this regard.

TiVos game shows Do you have a season pass for The Price is Right or Wheel of Fortune? Uh huh, might as well start pulling those pants up a little bit higher and trade in that sports car for the 30 foot town car. My grandpa watches The Price is Right religiously and he has the 28 foot Cadillac in the garage but that’s ok because he’s over 80. (I happen to like The Price is Right because of him.) I am guilty of this one, we TiVo Jeopardy!.

Has developed a special, selective blindness to ear and nose hair He just doesn’t see it. Maybe these furry geezers don’t own mirrors. I mean come on! Don’t you think they’re curious about that little fuzzy tickle they sometimes get in their ear? I guess at some point they stopped caring and therefore stopped seeing it; I don’t know. Because of the nature of this one, it might be a good idea to ask someone you trust if you have this old man symptom since you obviously can’t see it for yourself.

Alright nobody wanted to share anything from their life list so how ’bout sharing some signs you’ve seen that means old age might be creeping up on you.

And yes, that is a real AARP card. My AARP card. They sent it to me when I was still in college. I’ve never gotten to enjoy the discounts, though I have tried; nobody seems to believe that I’m a member. Can’t I just look really good for an old man? Gosh!

(Camel) Hump Day

Dang, it’s Wednesday already. Well, I’ve been recovering from the weekend and then on Monday my computer at work died. Boohoo. I’ve got a couple of posts in the queue; one’s half-baked and I need to work it out some more and the other is fully-cooked, I just have to find out if I can legally post it here. Legally, you say? What in the world is it about, you wonder? Not to worry, I just plan to submit it to Reader’s Digest for publication (and $300) so I need to make sure it’s ok to “publish” it here also.

Anyhoo, you’ll be hearing from me shortly. And be posting your list already!

Be Right Back…


Today’s my Fifth Wedding Anniversary to my lovely wife, M. Five quick and slow years. I believe five is the Wood Anniversary. The rest of the weekend will be taken up with a disc golf tournament I am helping run.

What, you’re married? Yes, sorry ladies (and gay not-that-there’s-anything-wrong-with-that gentlemen). What the crap is disc golf? A game I like to play and another topic for another day. What, you’re leaving all three of us without your insanely great, witty musings from Inside Mr. KaryHead for a whole weekend. Most likely.

The Life List


You know what I’m talking about, right? Everybody’s got one: the List of Things To Do Before I Die. Or, Just Crap That Would Be Cool To Do (version without the morbidity). If you don’t have one, I strongly suggest you sit down or stand up, I don’t care which, and brainstorm things you want to do and write them down.

Here’s a sample of mine:

Skydive Yeah, yeah, lots of people would probably like to do this one and probably do do this one so not really original, but I think it would be fun and terrfying at the same time. I did one of those indoor skydiving things with the tunnel and the big fan. It was kinda lame for the price I paid. I got all of 1.27 minutes to actually get blown around by a giant fan. It was kinda hard though, I couldn’t stay stable for very long without falling off the column of air. There’s a place in Alabama that does the skydiving. Maybe I’ll look into it Real Soon Now.

Naturalist and Tracker Growing up, I loved reading stories about Indians or, if you prefer, Native Americans. I thought that if I could go back and pick a place and time period to live, I’d pick North America before the settlers arrived. Something about the way they lived with and respected the earth and relied on it for all their needs is appealing to me. A few years ago I stumbled on a Tom Brown, Jr. book, Guide to Wild Edible and Medicinal Plants. In it he tells a story of his first deer kill and how he was taught The Old Ways by his friend’s grandfather, a displaced Apache Indian. I thought it was amazing that someone could learn these skills nowadays. At first I thought the book was really old and Tom Brown had to be dead, but no, he’s alive and runs a Tracker School. I’ve wanted to go but haven’t really had the money. I did find a student of his that teaches some classes in my area. I also bought the Kamana Naturalist home study course from Wilderness Awareness School, though I haven’t done very much with it. Anyway, I could go on and on. Just so you know, I have built a debris hut and started a fire with sticks.

Break Dancing Yeah, I saw Breakin’ and Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo. Everyone thinks breakin’ is cool but not many think it’s something they’d want to spend hours and hours learning how to do. Ever since I saw Office Space and the scene where they’re celebrating in Peter’s living room and Samir busts out a Master Swipe, I’ve wanted to learn how to break dance. I tried to clear out some space in my living room and learn how to do it by rewinding and watching that scene over and over. Alas, I kept crashing into objects. I mean, think how sweet it would be to be on a dance floor somewhere and bust out a windmill or something? Totally awesome. I don’t even want to learn how to do a lot of stuff, just a few moves would suffice. I think I’ll order this.

Ok, one more and then it’s your turn.

Background talent Due to some sort of new legislation in Louisiana, it’s really cheap to make movies there. I live about 5 hours from New Orleans and my parents live about an hour and a half. How cool would it be to go down there and get cast as an extra? It would be swell to see how a movie is made and meet people and raid the craft services table. And totally get paid for it; not a lot but probably enough to cover expenses. I had a buddy go down during the Dukes of Hazzard and get cast as an extra. His truck got cast too, but I don’t think he made extra money for the truck. When the movie comes out I’ll be looking for him. The insider tip is to go out to the clubs with the crew in the evening and chat up the director or somebody and maybe get a speaking role. Hey, it happens.

There’s a small sample from my list. So all three of you who read this, put some of yours in the comments. Now!

Audition, pt 2


You might want to read Audition, pt 1 first.

And now for the exciting conclusion to…well it’s probably not that exciting really. I mean, I don’t have some big suspenseful cliff-hanger up my sleeve or anything like that. Sorry. Um, we were here:

We eat and head out; the auditions begin at 7:00pm at the playhouse. We pull up at 7:02pm and park across the street. B., the I-borrowed-a-book-from friend, pulls up at the same time. As we cross the street, a car, coming entirely too fast for downtown Starkville, careens around the corner and is racing up the street towards us. I push M. behind me and try to step back myself but my left leg doesn’t quite clear and the car clips my leg right at the knee. I do one of those movie-martial-arts spins and end up in a heap on the pavement.

Ok, that last part didn’t actually happen. I was trying to make it more exciting. Man, I bet your mouth was hanging open and you were like, Gosh! Sorry, I’ll try to keep the, uh, imprecise drama to a minimum.

So anyway, we cross the street and go inside. The theater has a small foyer of sorts with a box office and a couch and a table and bathrooms. I get a sign-up form and find a seat in the small auditorium and fill it out. After introductions and an explanation of What We Were All Doing There, auditions begin.

There are several guys and girls in attendance. They all seem to know each other, what with the comfortable lounging around and chatting and kidding each other and all. The procedure is you volunteer and go up on stage in front of everybody, hand your music to the accompanist, go over any points in the music with her that warrant it and then sing. I let most everybody go ahead of me, you know, to size up the competition. Everybody does a decent job. Some do an outstanding job and make me even more nervous. I ain’t goin’ after them. Pretty soon all that’s left is me and a homeless guy who came in to get away from the birds; he was mumbling something about dive-bombing winged rats, so I’m not really sure. The moment has come, I rise out of my seat and make my way to the stage. *cue dramatic music*

I trip on the steps on the way up to the stage. No, I didn’t, but I thought about it. After I got on stage, I gave a simple introduction, Hi, I’m new guy and I’m terrified. There were laughs. I actually don’t remember that much about my audition. I remember the pianist saying, Oh good, I know this one. I remember starting the song, looking at M. for inspiration a few times and ending the song. Those places that I was worried about forgetting a word or screwing up a phrase, I have no idea if I got them right or not. I’m going to assume I didn’t flub them too bad. No shaky hands or embarassing wet spot on the front of my pants. Rock!

When I finished there was applause and I hurried off the stage back to the safety of M. She squeezed my hand, You nailed it. Awesome. After about 5 minutes my nerves started to subside and I was all, Come on let me sing something else.

Turns out I would need to sing again the next night. I thought it was two separate audition nights and you would sing at one of the two. I chose the first night to go ahead and get it out of the way. They did ask us to come back on the second night if we could, for group singing, so I didn’t think anything about it. Everybody who sang the night before sang again and they sang a different song. I only had one song. Ah well, I sang it again. They weren’t going to make me sing or anything, but I thought I should contribute something. My intro, This is the slightly-less-terrified-version from last night. I don’t know if I did better or worse.

Afterwards we sang the show opener as a group. Dang I’ve missed singing with a group. I really enjoyed it and I think I’m going to enjoy this experience. I’m supposed to get an email telling me what I’ll be doing. The options are chorus, small group, duet and solo. Everyone is in the chorus and other responsibilities depend on the audition I reckon. I hope I get something other than chorus, if not just to validate that I don’t suck, but I don’t really know what I’d want.

I’ll post when I find out the results. w00t! My first ever audition. I hope to have more and be involved in future productions at the playhouse.

Sweating with the Fatties

Warning: A little local thing here.

I went to Abs Class today at the Sanderson Center. Apparently, I don’t have any actual abs. I was straining and grunting and panting and sweating for the full 20 minutes; it was really quite embarrassing and painful. The studio has a big glass wall between it and the hallway so no doubt those walking by found it rather amusing. Most of the time the instructor kept us on our backs with our legs in the air so my loose gym shorts would slide all the way down to my very-upper thighs and therefore my supremely white skinny thighs were blinding everyone in the room and the outside hallway.

Maybe if I keep going to the class and keep the cardio going (50 minutes for 5 days a week) maybe, just maybe I’ll develop some actual abs and be able to see them.

I plan on going to Abs Class every Monday and Wednesday at 6:00pm during the summer. Come grunt with me.

Audition, pt 1


For a while I’ve been thinking of getting involved in the local community theater. I found out last week that they were having auditions for their summer musical revue this last Monday and Tuesday. I like to sing, says I, so I borrowed a book of Broadway songs and began looking for a song to sing. Turns out, I don’t know many Broadway songs. I looked through the book and had a piano-playing friend go over some of them with me. After 30 or 45 minutes I’d pretty much given up hope of finding something in the book I could work up from scratch over the weekend for the audition on Monday.

I grew up singing in church choir and whatnot but I’ve never had to do a singing audition or sing a solo (‘cept for that one time in 5th grade but that don’t count). So after a while I was like, Hey why not do a hymn? I know lotsa those. Well, we’re rehearsing in a catholic church you see, so there aren’t any Southern Baptist hymnals laying around. Crap, what now?

We go back to the book and D. (my piano-playing friend) says Hey I know this one, let’s do it. It’s called Memory. I’m like whatever. We work on it for at least 45 minutes and it starts to come together. I’m starting to think I might pull this off after all. About this time I remember what my I-borrowed-the-book-from friend said, Whatever you do, don’t do Memory. It’s so overdone. Well I’ve never heard of this song and I kinda like it but apparently theater people would claw their ears off and shoot me and then themselves if I were to sing this song. Crap, what now?

We find Younger Than Springtime (YtS) from South Pacific. It’s short and simple, two items that are high on my list of Things To Look For In A Song. We work it up a bit and call it a night.

A couple days later (Sunday) we meet again. I try out The Lady Is a Tramp (LiaT); it’s ok. I probably need more sass to really pull it off and I ain’t feeling real sassy. After running through YtS and LiaT a few times, I feel more comfortable with YtS. I whip out my sweet PowerBook, fire up Garageband and make a recording of the piano part so’s I can practice it later that night and on Monday before the audition.

Between Sunday afternoon and Monday night, I practice this song a buncha times. See, I add a new vocal track in Garageband and turn on ‘monitor’. I plug in some earphones and I can hear the piano and myself singing. Pretty danged sweet. I’m sure I’m annoying the ever-loving piss out of the neighbors, given our close promixity and all but I don’t care, this is my moment to shine! or something.

Monday comes and I make it through the day without wetting myself even once while thinking about my audition that night. Yes! M. says she’ll come with me and watch and Do I want her to bring the videocamera? Cripes, woman, are you trying to break me? I mean, I say No thank you dear, I don’t need the added pressure.

We eat and head out; the auditions begin at 7:00pm at the playhouse.

(tune in next time for the exciting conclusion of “I have to sing an audition in front of a bunch of strangers and I’ve never sung solo in public before and I really really really hope I don’t screw up real bad or trip when I get up on stage and maybe I shoulda worn some Depends undergarments in case I lose bladder control”)

Ain’t nuttin’ but a tater

Well I tell you what, that ol’ Bucket is something else. I hope you enjoyed meeting him. Maybe I’ll get him to post again in the future.

I’ve been debating whether or not to make Inside Mr.KaryHead more bloggish, in the sense of most everyone else’s blog, i.e. post daily but not always supercool teh funnay, you know, just add in some everyday stuff so I can post more. It is a purely selfish motivation: so I can write more. Initially I only wanted to post, as afore-mentioned, supercool teh funnay but I may start posting more often in which case the ratio of supercool teh funnay to total posts will fall somewhat. But rest assured I still will be posting supercool teh funnay stuff.

Carry on.

Bailing to Bucket (pt 2)


HEY EVRYBODY OUT THERE IN CIBERSPACE! MY NAMES BUCKET AND KERRY WANTED ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT MYSELF. I MET KERRY DOWN AT THE GIT N GO WHEN I WAS BUYING SOME CRICKETS. THEY AINT TO MANY GAS STORES LEFT THAT CARRY BATE NOWADAYS. ANYWAYS SO HERE GOES NOTHIN.

I BEN CALLED BUCKET FOR AS LONG AS I CAN REMEBER. MOMA AND DEDDY ALWAYS USED TO CALL ME BUCKET CAUSE THEY CARRIED MY AROUND IN A 5 GALLON BUCKET WHEN I WAS A BABY. THEY COULDNT AFFORD NO STROLLER OR NOTHIN LIKE THAT. I DIDNT MIND CAUSE I WAS A BABY. MOMA WOULD STUFF BLANKETS AND CORN HUSKS DOWN IN THE BUCKET WITH ME TO KEEP ME WARM AND STUFF.

WHEN I GOT BIGER I ALWAYS CARRIED THAT OL BUCKET AROUND WITH ME. SO THE NAME BUCKET STUCK EVEN AFTER I WAS TO BIG TO FIT INSIDE. I THINK EVRYBODY SHOULD HAVE A BUCKET. YOU CAN SIT ON THEM WHEN YOUR FISHIN AND THEN CARRY THE FISH HOME IN IT WHEN YOUR DONE. YOU CAN SHELL YOUR PEAS IN IT AND IT MAKES A GOOD SEAT AT THE FISH FRY ON FRIDAY NIGHT. DADDY WOULD HAVE ME WATER THE BLUEBERRY TREES AND ID USE MY BUCKET. THE HANDLE ON MINE BROKE A LONG TIME AGO SO I USE A BIT OF ROPE AND DUCK TAPE FOR A HANDLE NOW.

ANYWAY I GREW UP IN PHEBA WHICH IS A LITTLE NORTH OF STARKVILLE. ITS OUT IN THE COUNTRY BUT I LIKE IT THERE. MOMA AND DADDY GOT THEM A NEW TRAILER A WHILE BACK SO I GOT THERE OLD ONE AND I LIVE IN IT NOW RIGHT NEXT TO THEM. MY LIFE AINT TO EXCITIN BUT I GIT ALONG FINE. I GOT ME A GIRL AND I GOT MY BUCKET SO THATS ALL I REALLY NEED ANYHOW.

WELL MY FINGERS ARE GITTIN TIRED AND I GOT TO GO CHANGE A TIRE ON THE TRACTER. MAYBE ILL SEE YOU AGAIN.