W.W.J.D.?

He'd vote for Kerry and Edwards. Think about the things that "J" preached. Would he really tell his modern followers to vote for Bush/Cheney?

I have been very involved in this election as a supporter of Kerry/Edwards and have been thinking about it a lot. In light of the above question and answer, the Christian Right has become quite humorous to me. They are politically involved under the banner of their religion, but ignore most of it's basic teachings - mercy, justice, sacrifice, love, peace, and the list goes on and on. They'll tell you how they are the perfect representatives of these values, but a quick look at what they do will show you the truth.

The funniest thing to me on this question of religion and political party is that if I had to choose one religion that the Bush administration really might represent the values of - I'd probably end up with Islamic Fundamentalism. Holy war sound familiar?

Maybe I'll write more later. Sorry it's been so long. I'm back, baby! And with a vengeance.

Merry New Year!

It's Rosh Hashanah! The Jewish New Year is upon us. Today is a day for celebration and prayer. A day to look back at the year now ending, and a day to look ahead at the new year of life to come. We pray for health and peace for all, and we commit ourselves to living lives that better reflect the promise of humanity. Good luck to us all. May we find anew our ability to love and abandon our power to hurt. May we seek opportunities to heal and embrace our potential for helping. May we boldly travel life's high road as, together, we build the world of our dreams.

Thanks for being part of the Ziggybackride family! Have a happy, healthy year! See you soon!

Ummmm. Well, uhhh...

Ziggybackride is experiencing an awkward pause, and I apologize. This sort of postless period was acceptable and quite common in the early days of "the ride" but we have moved beyond that now. The bar has been raised and expectations have soared with it. Now I feel uncomfortable with a pause like the one that this ends, so I must add some filler. This is it. I'm sorry to waste any of the energy you have alotted to reading, but I would be even more sorry for you to find nothing new waiting for you here. The silence has ended and quality passages are on the way.

Thanks, as always, for coming along for the ride. Next time, bring a friend!

Not As Smart As I Think I Are

"Men" "Women"

Sure, there are similarities between the two words, but they aren't that hard to tell apart. I mean, if you have a college degree, at least. The other night I was out seeing my friends' band, The Central Standards, play. They are Memphis-based folk rockers and they sounded great. At some point late in the night, I had to pee ("I believe he said he's got to go pee." What movie is that from?). So I went. Walked right into the bathroom, thought, "hmm, no urinals," and walked right into a stall. I considered not closing and latching the stall door, as I would just be peeing and it would just take a minute, but in the end, I closed it. As I was relieving myself, someone came in and went into the stall next to mine. After a moment a voice, a lovely feminine voice, called out, "So, who's the guy peeing in the women's room?" I guess she had seen the way my feet were pointing under the stall wall.

I was quite surprised. For a shade under a heartbeat (which is only figurative, because my heart had stopped doing that for just a second or two), I thought, "wow, how embarrassing for her. She's in the men's room." But that didn't last long. I pieced it together pretty quickly. No urinals, clean facility, girl telling me it was the women's room. Yeah, it was the women's room. I finished my business quickly and left. Luckily, no one else was coming in as I was leaving and only a couple people whose table was in view of the door saw me leave. They seemed a little curious, but not too concerned. It's not that big a deal, of course. Honest mistake and no harm done, but I really knew a lot of the people there that night. I wasn't the anonymous person you want to be when you forget to notice the difference between "Men" and "Women."

Now, looking back, I'm sorry I didn't answer the girl in the stall next to me. That could have been quite the funny conversation. Plus we could have been friends. We obviously had something in common, at least at that very moment. I'm just glad she didn't start asking for toilet paper, though. I couldn't spare a square.

Wal-Mart, Delicatessens, And The Ability To Find Treasures

I live in Memphis. I love this city and I almost always feel that I have available to me everything of any importance that a really big city (NY, Chicago, Houston, etc.) could offer me, minus all the hassle that goes with living in those places. There are only a very few exceptions. Real delicatessens have never been able to make it in this city. There have been attempts - valiant ones, even - but no sustained success.

Today I was at Wal-Mart. Super Wal-Mart, to be precise. I was mostly there to pick-up newly developed photos and to buy new basketballs for the Temple Israel Runnin' Rabbis, the championship high school team I coach (more on the Rabs later this fall as season III heats up). I happened to browse through the deli area, since I was nearby after deciding to get some produce to go along with my photo processing and athletic supplies (the place really does have everything. I love it! Sorry mom and pop, whoever you may actually be). I noticed that the Wal-Mart deli has begun carrying a line of premium deli meats. They have corned beef and pastrami. "Wal-Mart corned beef?", you may be asking. "Please!"

I live in the barbecue capital of the world (St. Louis and every city in Texas can bite me!). I am surrounded by bbq restaurants of all sorts, but some of my favorite que of all time comes from a Citgo station on Hwy. 18 in rural Mississippi. Gas station barbecue. That took me a moment to get used to, but it taught me to remember that treasures can be found in the most unlikely of places. (It also taught me that I could recklessly eat meat of unknown origin, prepared at an establishment that may or may not be subject to health inspections, and by a man I don't know or have any reason, whatsoever, to trust. Well, not no reason. He did have an apron.)

I purchased the corned beef from the Wal-Mart deli. It is lean and flavorful - highly enjoyable. There are many lessons here. 1) For all you Wal-Mart bashers who lament the way they put mom and pop (here's this mysterious pair again!) out of business, remember that mom and pop weren't able to supply my community with good deli the way Wal-Mart does. (there's a sentence I never thought I'd type and I'll bet you never thought you'd read!) 2) We must be careful that we don't over-develop our "taste" in things to the point that we are not willing to try things like gas station meat. Who know's what little treasures we'll miss out on? 3) Sometimes people look at you funny when you purchase several basketballs at at time. 4) Sometimes, I think other people will be interested in boring, pointless stories about cold cuts and super stores, just because I am.

Trivial Pursuits and More on Hollywood

I'm on quite the pub quiz hot streak! For those of you unfamiliar with pub quiz, it is a live trivia contest held in... you guessed it... a pub. You can play with a team of up to six people. Each person pays an entry fee and after 5 rounds of grueling competition, the top 3 teams split the pot - not evenly, of course. My teams have now placed and won money the last three times I have been. It's awesome! Finally, the knowledge that those who go without like to call "useless" is coming in handy. I knew that one day it would. Now, this money is not quite enough to retire on, but it covers the bar tab and that's something. This week, I didn't feel all that helpful to the team and that's no good. I want to be the king of useles- er- important information. I will have to study if I expect my "Nipsey Russell's Coaxial Juggernaut" teammates to keep me around. Please feel free to use the comment feature below this post to pose a trivia question to me and I shall do my best to answer. You'll be helping me greatly (read: mildly, at best.).

In other news, my mind continues to reel from my movie filming experience on "Walk The Line" last weekend. I observed many things while I was there. Here are a couple:

- Movie stars are tiny people. This applies to Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon, whom I saw on the set, and others I have seen in person before. Reese, if you did not know her, could probably pass for a pre-teen. She has had two babies! Joaquin is no more than a suburb of Phoenix. (Wow! That was lame, but I shall leave it. I owe you that much.) He is Julius Weiss-like in stature, but maybe smaller? (DISCLAIMER: I never saw Chris Farley in person.)

- Stars of movies are not expected to do anything on the set except for film their scenes. That doesn't sound surprising, but I was struck by the way they were wisked away as soon as they finished something and didn't return until like 4 seconds before their next scene was to be filmed. Luckily, I was part of a scene that we did many, many times and they were around for like 4 hours straight, but even then, whenever there's more than about a 1 minute break for the crew to set something up, they are back to their chairs with assistants taking care of them. It's just weird. That is precisely what they are there for, but it seems like if I were being paid 4 million dollars for something, I'd be willing to stand there for 15 seconds while they test the light instead of needing a stand-in. That might change when I'm a star, though, so don't tell anyone.

- The process is incredible. There is equipment everywhere. There are crew members everywhere and somehow, they all seem to know what they're supposed to be doing without communicating. It was hard to tell what each person's job was on the set, but someone had to be coordinating it all. Or maybe they meet extensively to plan out each day's shooting. I'm sure they do that, but it still seems amazing. It's very much like a military operation. People are moved strategically, temporary shelter is provided, equipment is managed and distributed as needed, and the whole project proceeds step-by-step in a carefully planned and well timed manner. I wonder if there were studio executives watching in a secure room back in Hollywood, like they do in the White House during military ops. Yeah, I've been watching too much West Wing.

- I might have mentioned this before, but it still entertains me. We had a lunch break. At 1:30 a.m. We actually ate lunch then. It was beef stew. I was at Camp.

Okay, that's enough. Hope you are having a wonderful day!

Extra! Extra! Read all about it.

Okay, here goes. I was a roadie for Joaquin Phoenix's and Reese Witherspoon's 4:00 a.m. concert at the Memphis Mud Island Amphitheater yesterday morning. Sounds insane? I was a little bit. I was an extra for a concert scene in the upcoming movie "Walk The Line," about the life of Johnny Cash. Through a very random and lucky chain of events, I was one of a couple extras who were tapped to play roadies in a couple of scenes. First, we were in the background drinking beers at a backstage party after the concert. Apparently, we were very much in the shot at one point. Very exciting! This, we thought, was more than we could have hoped for. After we filmed that scene, we broke for lunch. This is one of the funny memories of the night. We broke for lunch. It was 1:30 a.m.

After this "lunch," we went back to the amphitheater, which stars as the Hollywood Bowl (or, as I understand it will be called in the movie, the Pacific Bowl). There, they called the roadies back. We were just standing there when a member of the crew began giving us assignments. It was nothing to him, just you go here and you go there. To us, though, it was huge! He points at me and says, "We'll have you come out here and get the autoharp from June after her song." He then moves on the other guys as I am realizing that he means I will walk out on stage during the concert and take a musical instrument from Reese Witherspoon. In the scene Reese's character (I call her Reese now. Not because we bonded so over the autoharp, but because it's easier to type than Witherspoon.) sings a song, then introduces Johnny Cash. As he's walking out, she gets up, walks a few steps (probably out of the picture, damn it!), hands me the autoharp and her finger picks, and says, "Thank you." We did this many, many times - over and over again. Between 3 and 6 a.m. when we should all have been sleeping. Repetitive and late at night? Needless to say, it was awesome!

I did catch myself smiling sweetly and responding in a very un-roadie-like manner as she handed me the instrument and thanked me. I had to get back into character. It was tough.

Between takes, she and Joaquin would joke around and the director occasionally gave some notes while the crew set everything back up, and I would stand there - feeling like the most important extra in the history of filmmaking - holding the harp and picks and waiting for Reese to be ready for them just before the shot would start again. Not really my job, as she once gratefully acknowledged, but I wasn't about to volunteer to not be in the middle of the action next to the stars!

Okay, more on this very interesting and comical experience later. The movie making process is unbelievably fascinating!

London Calling and America The Beautiful

I guess my friends from England have gone back to posting on their own blog (see Legoland California post). Or perhaps, they had another nasty run-in with Johnny Thunder and are no longer able to communicate. I will choose to believe the former, and I wish them the best as they finish their American adventure. I hope their new custom family truckster has served them well. Pardon me homes...

The other day, I saw John Edwards speak at a rally in downtown Memphis, on historic Beale Street. A few reflections:
1) He's good. This guy can speak and work a crowd and make you feel really good about him, yourself, America, etc. Somehow, he also has some sort of anti-sweating super power.
2) It was really hot. The whole crowd was sweating, getting sunburned, fainting, etc. Well, the fainting was mainly just a couple people.
3) I don't know if they fainted because of the heat or Edwards' looks. What a handsome fellow. I've seen a lot of political candidates speak in my time and this guy definitely comes in second, behind only... yep, you guessed it... Walter Mondale. Now there was a looker!
4) Political rallies can get pretty dumb. Before Edwards appeared, a parade of local Democratic muckety-mucks (never typed that before!) spoke briefly. Each tried to get the crowd pumped up in their own "not-quite-as-motiviating-as-a-mediocre-high-school-football-coach" way, and all tried to get the crowd chanting some trite motto, which, even more amazingly, we chanted.

I have some interest in running for public office one day and saying the kind of junk they said without feeling all sorts of shame is going to be a real tough one for me. Perhaps it's time for me to learn. I found out yesterday that the Democratic party is not even providing a challenger to my should-be-unseated freshman Congresswoman. No Democrat has really even come close in the district in years, but come on! Maybe the time has come for the Ziggybackride to take us all the way to D.C.! Well, too late for this year, but in two years?

New representative in Washington! New representative in Washington! New representative in Washington!

Are you chanting yet? Damn! I'll work on that.

Re: Legoland California

Check it out!   Apparently, some family has begun posting on Ziggybackride.  I don't know these people, mind you, but who can blame them for their desire to be part of the excitement!  I am a little concerned as to how they were able to log in and post here, but more than that, I am just excited that little Ian and Rachel are having such a good time out in the sunshine state! 

Best wishes for a great rest of the trip!  Travel safely and bring me a t-shirt, please.

Dewey Defeats Truman

Wasn't that the mistaken headline of the newspaper that overanxiously reported on the presidential election?  I think so.  Anyway...

We won!  My teammates and I are champions.   It is both sad and nice how genuinely exciting that is.  Sad because I'm old and wise enough to understand where this truly stands in the grand scheme of things.  Nice because that little part of me that loves to play games, compete, and have fun is clearly alive and well. 

Now we brace ourselves for the always-tumultuous off season.  Who will retire?  Who will be released?  Which players will show up overweight and out of shape to training camp?  That's easy.  All of us.  If we had training camp, that is.  Will this become a dynasty or will the team be broken up by free agency, leaving fans with but a taste of the glory they could have enjoyed in a different age when loyalty prevailed over avarice. 

Wait.  No.  Never mind.  I forgot which league this is.  We just all have to sign up again the next time the league is announced in our community center bulletin.  But still!  I mean... come on!

Legoland California

Went to Legoland California in Carlsbad with the Deans today - excellent theme park, just as good as Winsor (plus far better weather) and maybe even more fun than Disney. Arrived about 1015 and left ay 1800.
Kids had their photos taken with a life sized Jonny Thunder minifig (massivefig!?) - he was kind of creepy walking through the park, like something out of Doctor Who!

The kids enjoyed most of the rides - Ian's favorites where the airplanes, boat and driving schools. Rachel went on the big Technics roller coaster with Julie, but didn't like it!

For me the highlight was Minitown USA with some fantastic New York skyscrapper models.



At one point I was cornered by a New Yorker who wanted to talk all about British politics, the upcoming US presidential elections (apparantly Bush will loose), how he will retire to the Phillipenes and the war in Iraq.
Saw a couple of F-18s and Seahawks on the drive back to the hotel.
Finished the day off with a quick swim at the hotel before dinner and bed.



ipenes and the war in Iraq.
Saw a couple of F-18s and Seahawks on the drive back to the hotel.
Finished the day off with a quick swim at the hotel before dinner and bed.

Woohoo!

Well, we did it, friends.  We hit the big 3-0-0.  Mazel tov to whomever among you that was the historic visitor.  For once, it wasn't me!  Let me know if it was you by using the comment feature at the bottom of this post.  I'll see to it that you are properly honored. 

In other news, tonight's the night, Jewish men's league basketball fans!  Can the fiesty upstarts come from a 6th seed and win it all?  We shall soon see.  Our quest for one shining (or, at least, slightly glowing) moment begins in 2 hours.  I have to go get ready soon.  By get ready, I mean listen to the Gatorade "Be Like Mike" song over and over.  Surely that will be enough to catapult me and my teammates to the top.

I'll try to post later, but I'm off tomorrow morning to the wedding of two very close friends.  It's very exciting to celebrate with them and to do so with so many of our other friends.  There will be many laughs.  There will be many photos.  There will be many stories.  There will be many memories.  Perhaps I'll spin you some yarns from the big weekend upon my return.  Until then, be bold and mighty forces will come to your aid.  (According to the mom in "Almost Famous," Goethe said that.  Why would she lie?)

The Race is On

I see that we are nearing the coming of our 300th visitor.  What a milestone!  Wouldn't it feel great to see that magical "three-zero-zero" on that counter when you visit?  There are few things as special as helping others celebrate their milestones, so do your best to be that 300th visitor by visiting often (or just once and reloading the page a couple times.  I guess that would work, too, you damn cheater!).  Good luck to all Ziggybackriders and thank you for your support! 

Office Space

I told you I was a movie star!  Weeks ago, I wrote about embarking on the filming of an independent comedy feature.  Since that opening weekend of filming, I hadn't heard anything from the producers of this soon-to-be masterpiece.  Finally, last night, I remembered, at a decent hour, to call them and find out if the movie had been canned or just me.  Turns out they've just been busy filming scenes that I am not in and I'll be back in front of the camera soon.  This is exactly what I had been telling friends and acquaintances who have asked how it's going, but I didn't really believe it anymore.  "The Importance of Being Russell: A comedy of redneck proportions" is still on the way!

I'm psyched that I wasn't fired, but it wouldn't have mattered.  Turns out I'm living in a movie anyway.  Unfortunately, it's Office Space, which would be fine if I weren't the guy who keeps getting moved around.  Today, I moved into my 8th office in the four years I've held my current job.  It is my 3rd office in the last 2 months.  Let me say that again.  It's my 3rd office in the last 2 months.  Luckily, I was very unconscientious about unpacking and settling into my last office, so most of my stuff was still ready to go.  That's the lesson for today, kids.  Laziness always pays off in the end!  I understand the reason for each and every one of my moves and they have basically all been solid.  Therefore, I'm not too concerned that my employer is trying to run me off by moving me around.  If they are, they're going to way too much trouble.  This time, it involves hiring a whole preschool class worth of toddler actors, who will pretend to be one extra class we weren't planning to have, causing our school to take up one more room than anticipated.  Golly!  If they want me to leave, they should just tell me.  I'd be happy to take some time off and these unfortunate toddlers could quit their acting jobs and enroll in preschool for real.  They're like little sponges - soaking up all the knowledge they can.  It's really the most important time in their educational careers! 

Jewish Sports Round-up

Just to keep you all posted, because I know you freakin' care (Even I hardly do.  Okay, that's not true.  I love this stuff!), my summer league basketball team delivered big time in our semifinal game last night, winning 54-32 behind a balanced effort from the only five guys who could make it to the game.  This was the 2nd chapter of a Cinderella story that started last Wednesday when we, the tournament's 6th seed, ousted the number 3.  Chapter 3 begins next Wednesday at 8:00 p.m. CDT, and will last as long as it takes to play two twenty-minute halves with running clock, except for the last couple minutes of the half.  We'll be taking on the number 1 seed in our bid to claim the league crown and the imagined immortality that accompanies it.  Over the next few days, we'll be keeping a close eye on the nose of our team captain.  It was broken with just over two minutes to play in last night's game as he dove for a loose ball and collided, face-first, with an opposing player's knee.  Up 20 with two minutes to go and diving for a loose ball!  That's the spirit!  I mean, I wouldn't do it, but I'm proud to be the teammate of someone who would!  Maybe he'll get to wear one of those freaky little face masks (as opposed to the other kind of masks) to protect the nose from further damage.  That would be neat.

In softball news, my team continues the journey toward greatness tonight on the long, confusing, meandering path that is the losers' bracket.  It's double elimination and we've had our single already.  I think, though, and this hardly seems right, that if we win tonight, we are in the championship, but would just have to beat the winners' bracket winner twice, while they would only have to beat us once.  Win or lose, tonight is my last softball game of the season, as I will be in New Orleans next Thursday preparing for the wedding of two friends.  Preparing!  What do I have to prepare?  I'll be sitting around making jokes and listening to the bridegroom-to-be's little George Bush doll say things like, "I was raised in the West... the West of Texas.  That's pretty close to California... in more ways than Washington, D.C. is close to California."  It'll be great.  Aaaaannd that's... what's happening in softball!

Suckerz!!!!

I just want to know - how many of you got to wear a cape and a crown, play the guitar, and sing children's songs today at work (I mean as an actual part of your job, Ben*!)?  Nobody?  Really?  Well, I did.  Hard to believe that it could be true, but it is.  There are days when I don't think my job is the greatest, but more often than not, it's pretty damn sweet.  It's good to be Ziggy!

*The name Ben was selected pretty much at random for use  in the parenthetical comment above.  Partly because it was short and easy to type.  Partly because I don't know the identity of many of this site's readers, but I know there's one named Ben.  Sorry Ben.  Didn't mean to suggest that you would act inappropriately at your place of work.  Even though you might.  And as for the rest of you, I didn't mean to mislead you.  I just wanted to make it seem as though I had a friend who might do all those things in his workplace, even if they were not part of the job.  I have sinned.  I'm sorry.

Happy Days Are Here Again!

The batting slump is over.  It lasted for one at-bat, but the fact that it was a game-ending strike-out made it seem much worse.  Last night, I went 3-for-3 with two singles and a double, 1 RBI, and 2 runs scored.  The first swing of the bat was a little scary, though, after Tuesday's debacle.  My team lost again, though, putting us into the losers bracket of our tournament.  Darn it all!  I think I feel the magic slipping away.  No, wait.  I think that's just the humidity.  Phew!   

Moments of Glory

Here's a short story for you.  Tuesday night, I played in a recreational, slow-pitch (that's important in light of the "punch line") softball game.  The game was for first place in the league going into the post-season tournament.  My team lost.  The other team's very good.  No big deal.  "What is a big deal?" you ask.  I'll tell you.  I stepped up to the plate, bottom of the ninth (sixth, actually.  we play with a time limit), with a chance to start a rally.  The rally wouldn't have done anything because we were down by like 9 runs, but just the same, runners on base, little kid's dream, lots of people watching because the next game was about to start and all their players were there.  Took the first pitch - called strike.  Swung at the second - swing and a miss.  A big swing, too.  All sorts of breeze jokes and batting tips from my team.  Third pitch, lofted from the mound, looking good, coming right down the middle.  This is my pitch.  This is my moment of glory.  After all, I had hit a stand-up double deep into center during my last at-bat.  Time to take it to the next step.  I reared back.  I swung with all my might (and that's practically saying something!) and I missed again.  It seemed as though 4 or 5 minutes passed as I stood there, embarrassed, before the umpire finally said (just barely over what I imagined was a roar of laughter from the onlookers), "Strike three.  Ball game!"
 
We weren't going to win and other players inexplicably struck out and made a variety of other blunders over the course of the game.  Mine, somehow, seems to have erased them all.  It's not important, of course, and I can laugh and just enjoy the game, but for the love of God, that better never happen again. 
 
I have another game tonight and I'm not gonna lie to you.  I'm a little scared. 

How do you spell "doesn't write often enough?"

d-o-e-s-n-'-t w-r-i-t-e o-f-t-e-n e-n-o-u-g-h. Whew! I knew I could do it. Sorry I have been MIZA (missing in ziggybackride action) lately. I was at the URJ Henry S. Jacobs Camp, birthplace of the nickname Ziggy (at least when used to refer to me), for a week. Then I was in Houston for a family funeral. A sad occasion, to be sure, as my family bid farewell to a favorite great uncle (actual relationship and good description), but a nice chance to be together and reconnect with family I don't see often. I also got to see one of my best friends from college and her three-week-old baby. First of all, little Landon is adorable. Second of all, I highly recommend taking advantage of any opportunity to add visiting a friend's infant to a family funeral day. It made it very hard to stay sad.

Back on the homefront, things are going well. I saw a friend's band play last night for the first time in a while. They sounded great. Be on the lookout for The Central Standards, America's new folk-rock giants (as I have just now dubbed them). In sports, my Jewish Community Center basketball and softball teams are enterring post-season play this week. What's that? Not interested in Jewish adult recreational sports? Sounds unimportant? Maybe, but it's all I have, so BACK OFF! It's time for my summer league teams to begin our march to the glory (and by glory, I mean they'll engrave our names on a little plaque that hangs in the gym) that belongs to those who can rise above the rest (of the aging Jewish athletes). Best of luck to me and my teammates and thanks to all the well-wishers out there. I'll keep you posted!

How do you spell curmudgeon?

Z-I-G-G-Y. Man! I just read my "hump day" post, in which I whine and moan about something that annoys me. When did I become so crotchety? Okay, I don't really think I'm crotchety, but I sure love typing that word! My friend Barry has noticed this change in me and has complimented the "new Michael" that is not always positive, so there must be something to it. Barry - now that's a crotchety guy! (Okay, the word is retired for the rest of this post.)

In the end, though, I can not keep becoming this new me. I will be old Michael. Or Ziggy. It's very confusing. Oh, there I go complaining again. When will it end?!? Anyway, I will be the old me, filling the air (and internet) with words of thanks, praise, and family-friendly humor, rather than polluting it with the exhaust of cynicism and anger. That will be my goal. At least until my softball game tonight during which I will curse proudly and loudly if my hitting doesn't improve. (Speaking of baseball-related sports, how about them Texas Longhorns!!! College World Series finals begin soon and we'll be there! Hook 'Em Horns!)

Hump Day...

Happy Wednesday, Riders! I hope your week is treating you well. Mine has been lovely. Participated this past weekend in a yearly canoe trip with friends. Please use the link to the "cabinprayers" blog for more information on that, plus pictures. It was fun, as always, though. I got to visit the camp I spent all of my childhood summers at for a little while on Sunday morning. That was fun. I'm going back there this weekend for a week. That's how I know I have a good life. I still get to go to camp in the summer. Now, one day, if this keeps up, I may well be saying, "That's how I know my life sucks. I still have to go to camp in the summer." But for now (and the foreseeable future) it's a good thing. I just had lunch with a good friend who's going to London for most of the rest of the summer on a study program. That's something to envy. I love my Mississippi camp, but London could be nice, too. Wait, I have babbled myself into a state of sidetrackedness! Back to business...

The title of this post refers partly to this middle day of the work week, but also to an annoyance that is growing more and more widespread in my community (and, I suspect, in others). On my way back from lunch, I passed through a neigborhood that has chosen to install its own speedbumps. Not on a private drive, mind you, but a very public street. I'm seeing this more and more often, especially, of course, in more upscale neighborhoods. What the hell?!? The speed limit is 35 mph, but you can't go over the bumps at much more than 25 without destroying your (pimped out) ride. I understand that, perhaps, people were speeding through the neighborhood. Okay, fine. So put speedbumps in that require you to go no more than the speed limit. Who told these people that they could just put these out there, anyway? Did they even ask anyone? Maybe it's for my own protection. Maybe these are the same people that are blowing their debris out into the street (see post entitled "Blown Away") and they're trying to help me successfully navigate their trash by slowing me down. Thanks, but no thanks. Throw your trash away and let me drive in peace. At or near the speed limit. Damn it.

P.S. - Have a nice day!

Visitor Update!

Yeah buddy! Now we're rolling along. It took almost a year for Ziggybackride to get 100 visitors, but now, just about a month later, we're at 150. I guess I've been checking in a lot more often! Maybe you could be the 200th! Wouldn't that be something? Yeah, but just barely.

Wanted: Foreign Language Tapes

I'd love to have some tapes to help me learn a new language I would like to speak. I'm good with English, I know some Hebrew, a little French, and I took 3 years of Latin (God knows why!) in high school. I'll tell you where I can't communicate, though. At the counter in any Starbucks. I see people with fun, tasty looking beverages, but I don't know how to get them. I hear them saying things that are not on the menu. They must be native speakers. I need tapes to listen to in the car.

tape: Please repeat. Venti.
me: Venti.
tape: Venti macchiato.
me: Venti... what?
tape: Venti macchiato.
me: Venti macchiato.
tape: It is customary to end your order with "please." Please repeat. Venti macchiato, please.
me: Venti macchiato, please.
tape: you have reached the conclusion of lesson 37. please turn the tape over to learn about frappucino and why we call the smallest cup "tall."

I think this would be very helpful. Not just to me, but to others who would like to enjoy a cup of coffee at the hip, neighborhood coffee place, but who didn't grow up in whatever country speaks this language regularly. Maybe the State Department has a program that they use for diplomats. Perhaps one day I can be an ambassador of coffee.

The Importance of Being a Movie Star

Today, I begin a new chapter in my life. Today marks the beginning of filming for a movie that I will be appearing in. It is an independent, feature-length comedy being made by a group of local filmmakers. It is not likely to be seen by very many people, but you never know!

At the moment, several movies are being made in the Memphis area. There are a couple that are being backed by major studios, that star famous actors, and that will one day be in theaters. This is not one of those movies. That's something I'm getting very good at explaining to friends who are excited to hear that I'm going to be on screen. The thing is, I'll be in the movie, but the movie may never be on a screen. Ahh, but I should not be so negative. I'm sure big hits and big careers have begun with smaller projects than this one. So, be on the lookout for "The Importance of Being Russell" at independent film festivals near you starting in 2005.

Today, I begin a new chapter in my life. I know very little about how it will turn out, but I'm quite certain it will have something to do with being in movies. Will it be a long chapter, filled with stories of living a life on the big screen? Or will it begin and end with "The Importance of Being Russell?" I can't tell you that. This is just the preview. You want the rest of the story? Buy a ticket!

Blown Away...

Well, with the knowledge that there is a disposable toilet brush in the world (see previous post) has come the freedom to ponder other questions; to tackle other issues, if you will (and you will!). Here's one that has been gnawing at me for a little while:

I live and work in neighborhoods where people take their lawns and landscaping fairly seriously. I am lucky to spend a lot of my time in a particularly beautiful part of a very nice city (hooray for Memphis!). I regularly see homeowners or their chosen landscaping service hard at work around the neighborhood. At some point in pretty much every project I see undertaken, someone pulls out the blower. This relatively new addition to the home gardening scene perplexes me. You see, there is nothing in or on these lawns that actually needs to be blown around. There are, however, many things (cut grass, leaves, etc.) that need to be bagged and discarded. It seems that folks are under the impression that the easy availability of the blower has made bags and bagging unnecessary. Now - my neighbors seem to believe - it's okay to just blow any trash out of your yard and into the street and everything's clean. I guess trash bags were just a temporary band-aid on the problem that blowers have now fixed?

Everything I have ever learned about cleaning, being part of a community, or finishing a project tells me that this is not right. That you are not, in fact, finished with your work as long as you've gotten all the things you don't want anymore out into the street. Apparently, though, the common sense of many members of my community has been sucked through their garden hoses right out of their heads. Or perhaps someone just blew it into the street for someone else to find and clean up.

The Dawn of a New Day...

Early on in the life of Ziggybackride, I wrote a persuasive, lucid, well-thought-out piece on "The Most Disturbing Thing in My House." (at least that's what others seemed to think about it!) The title of the entry referred to the toilet brush. I asked then why, in our society, we did not have access to a disposable toilet brush. I asked why we should keep our bodily filth in a corner in the bathroom. I asked important questions. I demanded answers.

A new day has dawned, my friends! Presumably because of pressure exerted on the household products industry by avid readers of this site (I can't imagine any other possibilities), someone is now making a toilet bowl cleaner with disposable cleaning heads. Our dream has become a reality!

Now, the possibilities are endless. Now, we know that if we can but imagine, we can accomplish. We must now dream new dreams. We must commit ourselves to the noblest of causes. There were generations before us who could never have imagined the disposable toilet brush. What will the generations to come bring to this world of ours? I am humbled by the possibilities!

God Bless... well...God!

Happy Shavuot to you! That's right, the third and probably least well-known of the triumverate of Jewish pilgrimmage festivals is upon us and my office was closed today. I work at a synagogue, by the way. Random businesses aren't shutting down for Shavuot just yet. But just you wait! Only, be ready to wait a really long time. Or possibly wait in Israel. Anyway, Judaism being the pragmatic and efficient religion that it is, Shavuot is a holiday with a dual purpose. It celebrates the Spring harvest and the giving of the commandments to the Israelites at Mount Sinai. It's fairly major, but no one knows about it because Sunday school is already out for the year by the time it happens and because it doesn't happen at the same time as any major Christian holidays. Chanukah is a pretty minor holiday, but everyone knows it. It owes all its fame to Christmas.

Anyway, it's been a nice day. Not quite the perfect day my friend Bekah described recently on her site, but not bad. I got my ass whooped in tennis by a good friend who just moved back to town. But at least someone backed into my car while I was playing. Poor kid. Driving his mother's tremendous Suburban and couldn't control it. Doesn't seem like a big deal - easily fixable. So I lost in tennis and my car got hit, but I guess it was a good day because I got to play tennis and didn't hit anyone else's car. That's a pretty good day! Off to pub quiz tonight with friends where, to top off my great holiday, I will have my lack of knowledge of many subjects demonstrated to me by people I've never met. In a bar. Happy holidays!

What A Racket!

Several times in the last couple of days, I have been around people (most notably a professional photographer taking a class picture) who, while trying to do something, have said something along the lines of "I have to take my glasses off so I can see." They then proceeded to remove their glasses and successfully finish their respective endeavors. That can't be right! Why do they even wear the glasses to begin with? I'm supposed to go in for an eye checkup soon, but I'm reconsidering. I can currently see without removing any apparel. I sure as hell don't need glasses!

Huzzah for a Hundred!

There's cause for celebration today! That's right. Ziggybackride has received its 100th visitor. Was it you? Maybe! No, it was me. I would say that approximately 92 of the visits have been me (and most of those came from my reloading the page for one reason or another). But people always say about whatever it is they have to offer, "If it changes or helps or entertains just one person, that's enough for me!" I tend to disagree with that thinking and scoff at those people for setting their sights so low. However, for the purpose of this blog, entertaining myself is enough!

I just wonder how quickly we'll hit 200 visitors. What about 1000? A million? If we continue at this breakneck speed (read 1 visitor every 3 days), watch out world! There'll be a new King of the Internet! For now, though, if I can touch just one person... oh forget it!

Happy New Year!!!

So, there it was - time for my quarterly visit to the blog upon which I still plan to regularly post witty and/or thought-provoking nuggets (For those keeping score at home, the blog to which I am referring is this very one. Oh, and if you're still keeping score, I have not been posting regularly.) amd I made a startling discovery. It turns out that I have not added anything for Ziggybackriders to enjoy since 2003. That was a long time ago! So, first of all...

Happy New Year! I hope your 2004 is off to great start (hey! we're still in the first half of the year! It's not too late. Is it?). How's it going with those resolutions? I didn't make any this year. At least none that I still remember, though it's quite possible that as the ball dropped, I said something to myself about posting more regularly on my badly neglected blog. And that was shortly before I engaged in a romantic, Happy New Year make-out moment next to a (drumroll please)... dumpster. That's a story for another time, though. Actually, it's not. We shall never speak of that again. Nothing against the moment or the girl... it was all as wonderful as you'd imagine. Moreso even! It's just that if I should ever again find myself expressing my fondness for someone in or near a large garbage repository, I wouldn't want her to think it any less special than it will most certainly be just because I've done it before. Understand? Yeah, me neither.

Okay, I have now filled you in on the first hour or so of this year. We're almost caught up! You'll know everything soon. Stay tuned!