The Obligatory
"Play safe. Ski only in clockwise direction. Let's all have fun together."
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Comedy Fun - G4 Videos, etc.
Figured I'd post a few videos from some recent sketch-type AOTS material. Click the pictures for non-guaranteed motion picture fun.
A satellite interview with actor extraordinaire Steve Hasselhoff, brother of David.
And lo and behold, the much-anticipated Office Jesus Suite, "Refuse." I tried to do some new things with the character and with the actual production, and I think they turned out pretty well. There are some running gags and some references to other AOTS skits buried in there, too, if you care. It's something I do to amuse myself.
"The Attendance Policy."
"The Birthday Party."
"The Lunch."
Big-ups to the web team on that last one.
If you missed 'em on TV, I hope you enjoy them on the interweb.
I should also mention that some friends and I got into a super secret Eddie Izzard show late Tuesday night. Izzard's doing shows all week at a tiny L.A. theatre that's right around the corner from my apartment, trying out and refining new material for his next tour.
Really, really, really funny. My face actually hurt from laughing so much, which hasn't happened in a very long time.
His act on Tuesday still had a lot of the historical analogies I like, and added a lot more scientific and political material, too. But don't worry, he's still got random bouts of silliness, too. I can't wait to see what his act is like after this week of shows.
Oh, and Keanu Reeves sat in our row. He also waited in line for his tickets like everyone else. Stand up gent, that Keanu.
After work tomorrow, I'm off to Connecticut for a few days. Hopefully it will stop raining for a few hours so I can go hiking.
A satellite interview with actor extraordinaire Steve Hasselhoff, brother of David.
And lo and behold, the much-anticipated Office Jesus Suite, "Refuse." I tried to do some new things with the character and with the actual production, and I think they turned out pretty well. There are some running gags and some references to other AOTS skits buried in there, too, if you care. It's something I do to amuse myself.
"The Attendance Policy."
"The Birthday Party."
"The Lunch."
Big-ups to the web team on that last one.
If you missed 'em on TV, I hope you enjoy them on the interweb.
I should also mention that some friends and I got into a super secret Eddie Izzard show late Tuesday night. Izzard's doing shows all week at a tiny L.A. theatre that's right around the corner from my apartment, trying out and refining new material for his next tour.
Really, really, really funny. My face actually hurt from laughing so much, which hasn't happened in a very long time.
His act on Tuesday still had a lot of the historical analogies I like, and added a lot more scientific and political material, too. But don't worry, he's still got random bouts of silliness, too. I can't wait to see what his act is like after this week of shows.
Oh, and Keanu Reeves sat in our row. He also waited in line for his tickets like everyone else. Stand up gent, that Keanu.
After work tomorrow, I'm off to Connecticut for a few days. Hopefully it will stop raining for a few hours so I can go hiking.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Twin Peaks Trail
I have learned a lesson.
The lesson is: if you want someone to join you on a hike, don't scare the shit out of them with the statistics of said hike.
I posted a MySpace bulletin about the Twin Peaks trail, warning that it was a pretty long hike in a fairly high elevation. I got a few scattered, eager responses, but when I told them I was leaving L.A. around 6AM on a Sunday, those responders themselves scattered. Still working on that whole "salesmanship" thing.
So after helping Sara out on a shoot for her 48-hour film festival entry, I spent a bit of Saturday night checking straps on the CamelPak and trying to pick out necessary hiking items. Right before I was on my way up to set my alarm and turn in, I got a call from stalwart desert hiking companion Will, who was totally down for a 6:30 call time.
I think Will likes hiking even more than I do.
We hopped on the traffic-free freeways and drove up to La Canada Flintridge, where we picked up some lunches from a local diner and set out on the Angeles Crest Highway.
Just after entering the National Forest land, I had to stop the car to let four deer bound across the road and into some of the brush. Not a bad way to start the day.
We parked the car and started up the Waterman Mountain trail, which, with the absence of snow, was a cinch. For a nice portion of the first trail, our destination was in clear sight:
It's the tall peak on the right hand side, there. There was about five miles of distance and a few thousand feet of elevation change between us.
This was also about when I remembered that I didn't post my National Forest Adventure Pass in my car before we left. I spent a fair amount of time hoping either a). the rangers would be lazy that day or b). getting out of a ticket would be easy.
The trail from Waterman to the Twin Peaks saddle was almost all downhill. Pleasant on the way in, not so much on the way out. But going down, we took time to enjoy the thick cedar smells, surprisingly cool temperatures, and some dry 'rock rivers.' Between swatting at the clouds of (thankfully non-biting) flies that followed us for the entire hike.
Closer to the Twin Peaks Saddle - the low valley between Waterman and the Twin Peaks - the forest briefly turned into a thicker patch of sycamore, huddled around the one remaining flowing stream. No more snowmelt in July. The forest cleared out almost completely near the actual saddle, leaving behind a few errant examples of nature's weirdness.
The only other place I've seen fallen trees bleached and bent into shapes like this are on coasts. It's pretty amazing that the wind, sun, and snow 6000 feet above sea level can do just about the same thing, given the time.
Wooden graveyards aside, we stopped for a short break and stared in disbelief at the last section of trail. The path down the Waterman slope had been long and gradual, with plenty of switchbacks. The trail up to the Twin Peaks summit was a straight line from 6550ft to 7761ft, much of it on loose gravel. Needless to say, sections of this part of the trail were done with more hands and knees than feet - both from the steep, slippery incline and the fact that both of us got very out-of-breath from the elevation and exertion.
Eventually we did reach the peak, and after scrambling over a few boulders, we collapsed for a few moments of well-deserved rest. We opened our lunches and ate between panting breaths, taking time to enjoy the hypnotic buzzing of bees through the alpine grasses ... and the view, of course. Each peak practically begging to be climbed.
After some lunch and boulder-lounging, we suited back up and slid down the trail to the saddle. The Waterman trail, meandering and easy on the way down, was the complete opposite on the return. This was the most difficult trail I'd attempted in a long time, and the trail took this opportunity to remind me of that. Legs burning and chests pounding, we did our best to keep a steady pace, but had to stop multiple times to rest...
And once to get a picture of a tree that fell and remained almost perfectly still since then, slowly returning to the soil. Gotta stop for Science.
When we finally reached the downhill to the trailhead, our pained waddles turned back to pained hiking. Sitting in the car and taking off our shoes was a much more pleasurable experience than it should have been, but not nearly as much as proving we could cover a long distance with insane elevation changes. I got my sights set on you, Mt. San Antonio...
Oh, and there was a ticket on my car. But it is easy to take care of.
Distance Hiked: 11.43 miles
Footsteps Taken: 22,695
Total Elevation Gain: 3,650 feet, which, for you Office Dwellers, is like taking the stairs up 305 floors.
Percentage of the Rest of Sunday spent on the Couch: 95%
Of course, a few more pics are up at Flickr.
The lesson is: if you want someone to join you on a hike, don't scare the shit out of them with the statistics of said hike.
I posted a MySpace bulletin about the Twin Peaks trail, warning that it was a pretty long hike in a fairly high elevation. I got a few scattered, eager responses, but when I told them I was leaving L.A. around 6AM on a Sunday, those responders themselves scattered. Still working on that whole "salesmanship" thing.
So after helping Sara out on a shoot for her 48-hour film festival entry, I spent a bit of Saturday night checking straps on the CamelPak and trying to pick out necessary hiking items. Right before I was on my way up to set my alarm and turn in, I got a call from stalwart desert hiking companion Will, who was totally down for a 6:30 call time.
I think Will likes hiking even more than I do.
We hopped on the traffic-free freeways and drove up to La Canada Flintridge, where we picked up some lunches from a local diner and set out on the Angeles Crest Highway.
Just after entering the National Forest land, I had to stop the car to let four deer bound across the road and into some of the brush. Not a bad way to start the day.
We parked the car and started up the Waterman Mountain trail, which, with the absence of snow, was a cinch. For a nice portion of the first trail, our destination was in clear sight:
It's the tall peak on the right hand side, there. There was about five miles of distance and a few thousand feet of elevation change between us.
This was also about when I remembered that I didn't post my National Forest Adventure Pass in my car before we left. I spent a fair amount of time hoping either a). the rangers would be lazy that day or b). getting out of a ticket would be easy.
The trail from Waterman to the Twin Peaks saddle was almost all downhill. Pleasant on the way in, not so much on the way out. But going down, we took time to enjoy the thick cedar smells, surprisingly cool temperatures, and some dry 'rock rivers.' Between swatting at the clouds of (thankfully non-biting) flies that followed us for the entire hike.
Closer to the Twin Peaks Saddle - the low valley between Waterman and the Twin Peaks - the forest briefly turned into a thicker patch of sycamore, huddled around the one remaining flowing stream. No more snowmelt in July. The forest cleared out almost completely near the actual saddle, leaving behind a few errant examples of nature's weirdness.
The only other place I've seen fallen trees bleached and bent into shapes like this are on coasts. It's pretty amazing that the wind, sun, and snow 6000 feet above sea level can do just about the same thing, given the time.
Wooden graveyards aside, we stopped for a short break and stared in disbelief at the last section of trail. The path down the Waterman slope had been long and gradual, with plenty of switchbacks. The trail up to the Twin Peaks summit was a straight line from 6550ft to 7761ft, much of it on loose gravel. Needless to say, sections of this part of the trail were done with more hands and knees than feet - both from the steep, slippery incline and the fact that both of us got very out-of-breath from the elevation and exertion.
Eventually we did reach the peak, and after scrambling over a few boulders, we collapsed for a few moments of well-deserved rest. We opened our lunches and ate between panting breaths, taking time to enjoy the hypnotic buzzing of bees through the alpine grasses ... and the view, of course. Each peak practically begging to be climbed.
After some lunch and boulder-lounging, we suited back up and slid down the trail to the saddle. The Waterman trail, meandering and easy on the way down, was the complete opposite on the return. This was the most difficult trail I'd attempted in a long time, and the trail took this opportunity to remind me of that. Legs burning and chests pounding, we did our best to keep a steady pace, but had to stop multiple times to rest...
And once to get a picture of a tree that fell and remained almost perfectly still since then, slowly returning to the soil. Gotta stop for Science.
When we finally reached the downhill to the trailhead, our pained waddles turned back to pained hiking. Sitting in the car and taking off our shoes was a much more pleasurable experience than it should have been, but not nearly as much as proving we could cover a long distance with insane elevation changes. I got my sights set on you, Mt. San Antonio...
Oh, and there was a ticket on my car. But it is easy to take care of.
Distance Hiked: 11.43 miles
Footsteps Taken: 22,695
Total Elevation Gain: 3,650 feet, which, for you Office Dwellers, is like taking the stairs up 305 floors.
Percentage of the Rest of Sunday spent on the Couch: 95%
Of course, a few more pics are up at Flickr.
Labels: hiking
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Neko Case at the Henry Fonda
I saw Neko Case at the Henry Fonda last night, marking the second time in two weeks I've been to the theatre. Look at me! Getting out of the apartment!
Despite the fact that I've been listening to a ton of what can be semi-classified as 'alt-country' lately, this is the first alt-country show I've been to. As such, the crowd was a bit different than what I'm used to seeing at L.A. shows. Lots of facial hair, earth tones, flowy dresses and cowboy shirts ... none of which seemed to be worn in an ironic manner.
The age mix was pretty extensive, too. In the seat to my right, I had a 55 year old woman with her husband. On my left, a just-turned-21 indie pop proto-hipster. They were both pretty chatty, too. I was prepared to wait patiently and quietly for the music to start, but the woman seemed keen on asking me about the current state of film and our local PBS affiliate ... which I was more than happy to talk about. When I mentioned the last movie I saw was "A Prairie Home Companion," she seemed surprised:
"They let people under the age of 50 in to see that?"
If that didn't make me feel old, the hipster certainly did. It seemed like he was in the very beginning stages of discovering good indie music, and he was trying his darndest to impress me.
He: "I just went on Allmusic.com, and I learned that Neko Case is classified as 'alternative country.' You ever been to that site?"
Me: "Yes. All the time. It's great for making youself buy new music."
He: "On Ratemymusic.com, they had Neko Case in the top ten with this other guy I like a lot. Have you heard Andrew Bird?"
Me: "Yup. I'm a big fan. Been seeing him live since 2001 in Boston. Have you heard his older stuff yet?"
He: "Oh, no. But I love the new one."
Me: "'Weather Systems' is really fantastic. He recorded it in a barn."
He: "The show I'm really excited about, though, is July 6th."
Me: "Yeah, the Belle and Sebastian and the Shins at the Hollywood Bowl. I'm going, too. Have you seen Belle and Sebastian live? They're really tight musicians."
He: "No. Wow, do you like, work in music or something?"
Me: "(sigh) No. I wish."
... God, am I Getting Too Old For This?
That said, both of my Concert Friends were actually very nice. Although I did have to explain what a pedal steel was to the hipster. And that yes, Modest Mouse has been around for quite some time, now.
Pre-show conversation aside, when Neko Case took the stage, pretty much everyone in the audience fell completely silent. She started belting out an a capella song while her band stood in the shadows, joined on tight harmonies by the equally golden-throated Kelly Hogan.
After the first song ended quietly, Case reminded us she could probably take us in a barfight. She pointed down at the front row and yelled, "hey, whoever just told someone to shut the fuck up - YOU shut the fuck up! If you don't get along, I'm gonna come down there and kick both your asses!"
Needless to say, the concert went on with no more disturbances from the footlights. The band and the audience both seemed like they were having a lot of fun, and there were way more mid-song spontaneous bursts of applause than I'd heard in a long time.
Maybe alt-country fans are just more polite than scenesters. Or it could have just been Case's voice. You can't listen to that and NOT be floored. As she made her way through a healthy selection of songs from her new and old albums - along with a few choice covers of Bob Dylan and Randy Newman tunes - it took a lot for me not to just sit in slack-jawed awe.
Honest.
She's that good.
She's still on tour right now, so go out and see her if you get the chance. Or just search the Library of Congress of the Internet Age - The venerable YouTube.
Despite the fact that I've been listening to a ton of what can be semi-classified as 'alt-country' lately, this is the first alt-country show I've been to. As such, the crowd was a bit different than what I'm used to seeing at L.A. shows. Lots of facial hair, earth tones, flowy dresses and cowboy shirts ... none of which seemed to be worn in an ironic manner.
The age mix was pretty extensive, too. In the seat to my right, I had a 55 year old woman with her husband. On my left, a just-turned-21 indie pop proto-hipster. They were both pretty chatty, too. I was prepared to wait patiently and quietly for the music to start, but the woman seemed keen on asking me about the current state of film and our local PBS affiliate ... which I was more than happy to talk about. When I mentioned the last movie I saw was "A Prairie Home Companion," she seemed surprised:
"They let people under the age of 50 in to see that?"
If that didn't make me feel old, the hipster certainly did. It seemed like he was in the very beginning stages of discovering good indie music, and he was trying his darndest to impress me.
He: "I just went on Allmusic.com, and I learned that Neko Case is classified as 'alternative country.' You ever been to that site?"
Me: "Yes. All the time. It's great for making youself buy new music."
He: "On Ratemymusic.com, they had Neko Case in the top ten with this other guy I like a lot. Have you heard Andrew Bird?"
Me: "Yup. I'm a big fan. Been seeing him live since 2001 in Boston. Have you heard his older stuff yet?"
He: "Oh, no. But I love the new one."
Me: "'Weather Systems' is really fantastic. He recorded it in a barn."
He: "The show I'm really excited about, though, is July 6th."
Me: "Yeah, the Belle and Sebastian and the Shins at the Hollywood Bowl. I'm going, too. Have you seen Belle and Sebastian live? They're really tight musicians."
He: "No. Wow, do you like, work in music or something?"
Me: "(sigh) No. I wish."
... God, am I Getting Too Old For This?
That said, both of my Concert Friends were actually very nice. Although I did have to explain what a pedal steel was to the hipster. And that yes, Modest Mouse has been around for quite some time, now.
Pre-show conversation aside, when Neko Case took the stage, pretty much everyone in the audience fell completely silent. She started belting out an a capella song while her band stood in the shadows, joined on tight harmonies by the equally golden-throated Kelly Hogan.
After the first song ended quietly, Case reminded us she could probably take us in a barfight. She pointed down at the front row and yelled, "hey, whoever just told someone to shut the fuck up - YOU shut the fuck up! If you don't get along, I'm gonna come down there and kick both your asses!"
Needless to say, the concert went on with no more disturbances from the footlights. The band and the audience both seemed like they were having a lot of fun, and there were way more mid-song spontaneous bursts of applause than I'd heard in a long time.
Maybe alt-country fans are just more polite than scenesters. Or it could have just been Case's voice. You can't listen to that and NOT be floored. As she made her way through a healthy selection of songs from her new and old albums - along with a few choice covers of Bob Dylan and Randy Newman tunes - it took a lot for me not to just sit in slack-jawed awe.
Honest.
She's that good.
She's still on tour right now, so go out and see her if you get the chance. Or just search the Library of Congress of the Internet Age - The venerable YouTube.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Futurama Returns!
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
What's Going On With The Bush Administration?
First, the President declares the world's largest marine reserve a National Monument, creating a preserved area larger than all our National Parks put together ... then his new Secretary of the Interior does a complete 180 on his predecessor's policies, declaring "When there is a conflict between conserving resources unimpaired for future generations and the use of those resources, conservation will be predominant."
I'm not complaining ... I'm just ... I don't even know what this feeling is. Can I be ... PLEASED with something the administration is doing?
Wow.
The new Secretary of the Interior is especially surprising. The previous Secretary took money from Jack Abramoff, opened up parks to snowmobiles and ATVs, allowed more logging with less public notice in National Forests, and severely slashed Park budgets.
New Guy is all about - gasp - actually protecting and maintaining the environment in the Parks, even at the cost of recreational benefits. I know he's got a pretty spotty voting record on environmental bills, but it seems like he's serious about not screwing up our National Park System. I hope he can pull it off. And I hope he gets the funding to do it.
Kudos to you, Secretary Kempthorne!
I'm not complaining ... I'm just ... I don't even know what this feeling is. Can I be ... PLEASED with something the administration is doing?
Wow.
The new Secretary of the Interior is especially surprising. The previous Secretary took money from Jack Abramoff, opened up parks to snowmobiles and ATVs, allowed more logging with less public notice in National Forests, and severely slashed Park budgets.
New Guy is all about - gasp - actually protecting and maintaining the environment in the Parks, even at the cost of recreational benefits. I know he's got a pretty spotty voting record on environmental bills, but it seems like he's serious about not screwing up our National Park System. I hope he can pull it off. And I hope he gets the funding to do it.
Kudos to you, Secretary Kempthorne!
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Give The People What They Want
New Office Jesus skits, coming your way later on this week and early next week.
Now with overt hostility!
Also, any thoughts on the site's new layout? And anyone know CSS who could help me with some minor tweaks?
Monday, June 19, 2006
Espectaculo de Lucha de Dedos Pulgares 2006
One of the sillier things I've done for television. Enjoy.
Kidnapped!
Saturday morning, I set my alarm for 5:30 for a date with my kidnappers.
Those kidnappers, of course, being my roommates.
For about a week before, they had threatened to blindfold and drive me to an undisclosed location to celebrate my observed birthday. I'd been told to bring items as disparate as rain coats, hiking boots, and sea-sickness medication, and thus had no idea where I was going.
We piled into Meryl's car around 6:45 and headed north.
Past Ventura ... no Channel Islands. Past Santa Barbara ... no urban exploration ... into the wild, mostly-tamed lands of central California.
We stopped off in Buellton, a town whose billboards proclaimed it the "home of Split Pea soup," and continued on the main drag past orchards, farms, and ostrich ranches. Was I going to an ostrich ranch? That'd be pretty cool.
Nope. We kept driving, and out of the fields came a dense, compact little European-style village - with Danish flags everywhere. Solvang. An interesting Danish-revival village smack in the middle of Spanish California.
That town's got moxie.
Apparently, there was a group of Danish teachers and craftsmen who founded the town to flee Midwestern weather, and managed to keep much of their culture intact. So much so that they even got a visit from the King and Queen of Denmark.
We were more interested in breakfast, though. So we stopped at a bakery / cafe in the center of town and got to work. Coffee, eggs, toast, homemade raspberry jam and aebleskivers - small pancake balls that were like hot, freshly-baked, heartier donut holes.
We downed our coffees and set out back on the road for a local winery tour. A winery tour! Fantastic!
I hadn't been to any vineyards hitting up some coastal Connecticut vineyards with my family back in December. Before that, I can't even remember the last time I took advantage of my Californian location for some wine-stained goodness. Probably 2004, now that I think of it. Something I really enjoy yet hadn't done in a really long time. In other words, the perfect gift.
We started out at Sunstone Winery, which had a great mission-style patio and some really excellent organic wines, to boot. They also had this handy 'essence table,' just to get your nose working.
We sprung the extra cash for the reserve cellar tastings, and I was impressed enough to buy two bottles for later. They had a really awesome syrah rose that came dangerously close to a fruit wine, but still kept enough dryness to keep me from being embarassed about liking it.
Next up was Buttonwood, which definitely had the most hip of all the decors. Unfortunately, the staff was fairly uninformative when it came to the tastings, and the wines were ok, but nothing particularly worth writing home about.
They did have a very nice flower garden, though.
Next up was Blackjack Ranch, which had a beautiful tasting room, a great wooden bar, extensive selection, generous tasting list, and friendly and knowledgable staff. Even though they carded Rachel and she had to miss out on the wines 'cause she left her license at home.
I ended up walking out of that place with a nice pricey bottle of pinot noir. Were I less broke or more drunk, I would have left with many more.
Next up was Beckman Vineyards, a biodynamic farm slightly-off the beaten California State Routes that run from Los Olivos to Santa Barbara. As much as I'm a sucker for organic wines, I'm an even bigger sucker for fully biodynamic vineyards. Why? 'Cause there's science involved!
Also, it's got good ecological karma. The first such vineyard I'd visited was Benzinger up in Sonoma, way, way back when I was first out in California for college. Damn, 2002? That was a long time ago.
Anyway, I was not only impressed that such a fully natural system of large-scale commercial agriculture existed, but that it also produced some kick-ass wines. Beckman was no exception, and their free (!) tastings got me to buy my last bottle of the day.
After that, I was more than happy to collapse in the fields outside, my fingers and toes buried comfortably in the grass while the wind carried the smell of the vineyard across a small lake.
FYI, the facial expression here is 35% drunkenness, 55% earnest contentedness, and 10% amusement at Rachel's detailed recounting of the plot of "Rashomon."
After that, we had a sobering lunch in Los Olivos and decided to call it a day. A kick-ass day, and an excellent birthday (observed), too.
One of the things I like most about going to wineries is the way the wine you buy acts as a sort of memory battery. I don't know if other people have this sort of reaction, but I definitely do. I kept a few bottles from my 2002 Sonoma trip for a year or more. Each time I opened a bottle and inhaled the first sniff from the glass, I was instantly transported back. I remembered the wine bottle, the vintner who poured it, the way the vineyard looked and smelled, the bright sun peaking through mountain clouds, the leaves changing colors on the trees - vast amounts of minute details that had been dormant for a year, all brought back by one little smell of fermented grape juice.
Then again, I could be perfectly happy sitting with a glass of wine and doing nothing more than smelling it for an hour. That's just how I roll.
So, for a birthday (observed) gift that will last for many months and years to come, many, many thanks to Meryl, Rachel, and Aimee.
For more pictures, check out the ol' Flickr pool. They're all taken by the roommies. I was far too full of wine.
Those kidnappers, of course, being my roommates.
For about a week before, they had threatened to blindfold and drive me to an undisclosed location to celebrate my observed birthday. I'd been told to bring items as disparate as rain coats, hiking boots, and sea-sickness medication, and thus had no idea where I was going.
We piled into Meryl's car around 6:45 and headed north.
Past Ventura ... no Channel Islands. Past Santa Barbara ... no urban exploration ... into the wild, mostly-tamed lands of central California.
We stopped off in Buellton, a town whose billboards proclaimed it the "home of Split Pea soup," and continued on the main drag past orchards, farms, and ostrich ranches. Was I going to an ostrich ranch? That'd be pretty cool.
Nope. We kept driving, and out of the fields came a dense, compact little European-style village - with Danish flags everywhere. Solvang. An interesting Danish-revival village smack in the middle of Spanish California.
That town's got moxie.
Apparently, there was a group of Danish teachers and craftsmen who founded the town to flee Midwestern weather, and managed to keep much of their culture intact. So much so that they even got a visit from the King and Queen of Denmark.
We were more interested in breakfast, though. So we stopped at a bakery / cafe in the center of town and got to work. Coffee, eggs, toast, homemade raspberry jam and aebleskivers - small pancake balls that were like hot, freshly-baked, heartier donut holes.
We downed our coffees and set out back on the road for a local winery tour. A winery tour! Fantastic!
I hadn't been to any vineyards hitting up some coastal Connecticut vineyards with my family back in December. Before that, I can't even remember the last time I took advantage of my Californian location for some wine-stained goodness. Probably 2004, now that I think of it. Something I really enjoy yet hadn't done in a really long time. In other words, the perfect gift.
We started out at Sunstone Winery, which had a great mission-style patio and some really excellent organic wines, to boot. They also had this handy 'essence table,' just to get your nose working.
We sprung the extra cash for the reserve cellar tastings, and I was impressed enough to buy two bottles for later. They had a really awesome syrah rose that came dangerously close to a fruit wine, but still kept enough dryness to keep me from being embarassed about liking it.
Next up was Buttonwood, which definitely had the most hip of all the decors. Unfortunately, the staff was fairly uninformative when it came to the tastings, and the wines were ok, but nothing particularly worth writing home about.
They did have a very nice flower garden, though.
Next up was Blackjack Ranch, which had a beautiful tasting room, a great wooden bar, extensive selection, generous tasting list, and friendly and knowledgable staff. Even though they carded Rachel and she had to miss out on the wines 'cause she left her license at home.
I ended up walking out of that place with a nice pricey bottle of pinot noir. Were I less broke or more drunk, I would have left with many more.
Next up was Beckman Vineyards, a biodynamic farm slightly-off the beaten California State Routes that run from Los Olivos to Santa Barbara. As much as I'm a sucker for organic wines, I'm an even bigger sucker for fully biodynamic vineyards. Why? 'Cause there's science involved!
Also, it's got good ecological karma. The first such vineyard I'd visited was Benzinger up in Sonoma, way, way back when I was first out in California for college. Damn, 2002? That was a long time ago.
Anyway, I was not only impressed that such a fully natural system of large-scale commercial agriculture existed, but that it also produced some kick-ass wines. Beckman was no exception, and their free (!) tastings got me to buy my last bottle of the day.
After that, I was more than happy to collapse in the fields outside, my fingers and toes buried comfortably in the grass while the wind carried the smell of the vineyard across a small lake.
FYI, the facial expression here is 35% drunkenness, 55% earnest contentedness, and 10% amusement at Rachel's detailed recounting of the plot of "Rashomon."
After that, we had a sobering lunch in Los Olivos and decided to call it a day. A kick-ass day, and an excellent birthday (observed), too.
One of the things I like most about going to wineries is the way the wine you buy acts as a sort of memory battery. I don't know if other people have this sort of reaction, but I definitely do. I kept a few bottles from my 2002 Sonoma trip for a year or more. Each time I opened a bottle and inhaled the first sniff from the glass, I was instantly transported back. I remembered the wine bottle, the vintner who poured it, the way the vineyard looked and smelled, the bright sun peaking through mountain clouds, the leaves changing colors on the trees - vast amounts of minute details that had been dormant for a year, all brought back by one little smell of fermented grape juice.
Then again, I could be perfectly happy sitting with a glass of wine and doing nothing more than smelling it for an hour. That's just how I roll.
So, for a birthday (observed) gift that will last for many months and years to come, many, many thanks to Meryl, Rachel, and Aimee.
For more pictures, check out the ol' Flickr pool. They're all taken by the roommies. I was far too full of wine.
The Coolest 3-Year-Old Ever
Seriously, I'm a little bit jealous of this kid.
Also, I know what I'm doing for my birthday next year.
More on what my roommates did for my (observed) birthday later on today.
Also, I know what I'm doing for my birthday next year.
More on what my roommates did for my (observed) birthday later on today.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Sister, I'm A Poet
At least, on Big Brain Academy I am.
Still, way better than being a Banker.
Stuff I'm Thinking About Right Now
- New Office Jesus skits.
- How fast I have to move to make sure I get biscotti from the break room before it's gone.
- How great the iPod's shuffle feature is on your "Top Rated" auto-playlist.
- Buying a new digital camera. Specifically, this one. My friend Sara got one imported, and it is capital A amazing.
- That I didn't mention the Weezy and the Swish podcast I did a few weeks ago. Go check it out. It's me, Weezy, and X-Play's Guy Branum and Paul Bonnano. Hear us talk about really, really nerdy things.
- A top secret video project, that looks like it's probably going to be done. And be totally sweet.
- Another top secret web project, which probably won't get done.
- My fancy new CamelPak. Can't wait to bring it up some mountains.
- Potentially moving over to a TypePad or WordPress blog, instead of the Blogger. Anyone have any thoughts on this? Personally, I'd like to get categories in here, and clean up the site's visual formatting a bit. You think it's worth it to be able to click on "hiking" on the right hand side and get all my little hike reviews at once?
- My roommates, who are kidnapping me on Saturday morning for a belated birthday adventure. I have no idea where we're going. If I disappear, you guys know who to interrogate first.
- We just got the 3rd of July off from work, which means I'll have five consecutive days off. I guess now I HAVE to find something else to do. Camping in Sequoia? Return to Yosemite? Flight to Oregon?
- This. It's what most people search for who end up at this site. I think the picture says it all.
- How fast I have to move to make sure I get biscotti from the break room before it's gone.
- How great the iPod's shuffle feature is on your "Top Rated" auto-playlist.
- Buying a new digital camera. Specifically, this one. My friend Sara got one imported, and it is capital A amazing.
- That I didn't mention the Weezy and the Swish podcast I did a few weeks ago. Go check it out. It's me, Weezy, and X-Play's Guy Branum and Paul Bonnano. Hear us talk about really, really nerdy things.
- A top secret video project, that looks like it's probably going to be done. And be totally sweet.
- Another top secret web project, which probably won't get done.
- My fancy new CamelPak. Can't wait to bring it up some mountains.
- Potentially moving over to a TypePad or WordPress blog, instead of the Blogger. Anyone have any thoughts on this? Personally, I'd like to get categories in here, and clean up the site's visual formatting a bit. You think it's worth it to be able to click on "hiking" on the right hand side and get all my little hike reviews at once?
- My roommates, who are kidnapping me on Saturday morning for a belated birthday adventure. I have no idea where we're going. If I disappear, you guys know who to interrogate first.
- We just got the 3rd of July off from work, which means I'll have five consecutive days off. I guess now I HAVE to find something else to do. Camping in Sequoia? Return to Yosemite? Flight to Oregon?
- This. It's what most people search for who end up at this site. I think the picture says it all.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Quick Bits and Phone Pics
Some hasty updates, just so you don't think I abandoned anyone. Now with cell phone pictures! Because I can.
I caught the Calexico show at the Henry Fonda last night, with hiking pals Will and Renee. It was the fifth time I've seen Calexico live, and they once again put on an amazing show. It was a great mix of new and old, with an especially searing rendition of "Not Even Stevie Nicks..."
As usual, the Fonda's acoustics were great. Every instrument and voice was clear, and the trumpet blasts completely filled the auditorium. John Convertino is a joy to watch while he's drumming. Like some crazed, flailing kraken at the back of the stage.
They had Salvador Duran do a mini-opening set, as well as join the band on several songs. Wow, that guy's freakin' talented. He only sings one verse on the "In the Reins" EP, but in concert his voice absolutely demands attention. His hands work the guitar in ways you never would have even thought of ... AND he provides his own percussion by stomping and tapping on a wooden block he stands on. Really, really incredible to watch. I can't find anything on his music online, but apparently he's also an accomplished artist in Tuscon.
Man, I gotta get down to Tuscon.
The Black Heart Procession opened, with a set that seemed to go on a bit longer than most opening bands I've seen. I'd never heard them before, but I think they warrant a little investigatory listening. They seemed like a more subdued Wilco crossed with a Southwestern My Morning Jacket. Their rockin' songs were pretty good, but whenever they got drone-y, I kind of lost interest.
And now, completely unrelated, here is a behind-the-scenes pic of something I'm working on. It should air tomorrow.
Oh, also ... for Pete - you should go see An Inconvenient Truth if you can. Good stuff, engaging stories, and not at all boring.
I caught the Calexico show at the Henry Fonda last night, with hiking pals Will and Renee. It was the fifth time I've seen Calexico live, and they once again put on an amazing show. It was a great mix of new and old, with an especially searing rendition of "Not Even Stevie Nicks..."
As usual, the Fonda's acoustics were great. Every instrument and voice was clear, and the trumpet blasts completely filled the auditorium. John Convertino is a joy to watch while he's drumming. Like some crazed, flailing kraken at the back of the stage.
They had Salvador Duran do a mini-opening set, as well as join the band on several songs. Wow, that guy's freakin' talented. He only sings one verse on the "In the Reins" EP, but in concert his voice absolutely demands attention. His hands work the guitar in ways you never would have even thought of ... AND he provides his own percussion by stomping and tapping on a wooden block he stands on. Really, really incredible to watch. I can't find anything on his music online, but apparently he's also an accomplished artist in Tuscon.
Man, I gotta get down to Tuscon.
The Black Heart Procession opened, with a set that seemed to go on a bit longer than most opening bands I've seen. I'd never heard them before, but I think they warrant a little investigatory listening. They seemed like a more subdued Wilco crossed with a Southwestern My Morning Jacket. Their rockin' songs were pretty good, but whenever they got drone-y, I kind of lost interest.
And now, completely unrelated, here is a behind-the-scenes pic of something I'm working on. It should air tomorrow.
Oh, also ... for Pete - you should go see An Inconvenient Truth if you can. Good stuff, engaging stories, and not at all boring.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
A Prairie Home Companion
Just caught the Robert Altman / Garrison Keillor film version of "A Prairie Home Companion."
Excellent.
Excellent, excellent, excellent.
It's subtle, dry, sad, slapstick, and beautiful to look at. The characters wash over you in waves of overlapping dialogue and buried jokes, the script is brilliant, and it's got lots of folk and bluegrass music ... which is always a plus in my book.
If you're in the mood for some slower summer cinema, it's definitely worth the ticket price. And if you really dug "A Mighty Wind" and "O, Brother, Where Art Thou?" you really owe it to yourself to see this.
Excellent.
Excellent, excellent, excellent.
It's subtle, dry, sad, slapstick, and beautiful to look at. The characters wash over you in waves of overlapping dialogue and buried jokes, the script is brilliant, and it's got lots of folk and bluegrass music ... which is always a plus in my book.
If you're in the mood for some slower summer cinema, it's definitely worth the ticket price. And if you really dug "A Mighty Wind" and "O, Brother, Where Art Thou?" you really owe it to yourself to see this.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
A Self-Explanatory Post
Thank God for Koreatown.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Drawings of Casey Schreiner Doing Things That Are Awesome II
Part two of my ongoing shitty art project. Enjoy.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Three Ridiculous Things, In Order of Increasing Ridiculousness
An exploitative political smear video ... about Ben Franklin.
An amazing self-defense video that contains the line, "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm going to break your leg." Thank you, Hemlock. Thank you so much for this.
Ann Coulter on "The Today Show" this morning. Wow, that lady's ridiculous.
Q: How Do You Know If It's Election Season In California?
A: Because every time you come home, the contents of your mailbox look like this:
One day, seven political ads for the two people running for California representative for the 42nd district. On the right, we've got former City Councilman and bearer of exquisite facial hair Mike Feuer, with three ads. On the left, former Mayor of West Hollywood Abbe Land, with four.
I swear, Abbe Land is trying to start a relationship with me. I get letters from her pretty much every day, now. Never four at once, though. She must be lonely.
Of course, I'm listed on the voter roster as a Permanent Absentee Voter, which means I get to do all my voting from the comfort of my living room instead of in a tiny curtained booth. It also means I already voted. Two weeks ago.
... and this is just for the primaries. I can't wait until November rolls around.
One day, seven political ads for the two people running for California representative for the 42nd district. On the right, we've got former City Councilman and bearer of exquisite facial hair Mike Feuer, with three ads. On the left, former Mayor of West Hollywood Abbe Land, with four.
I swear, Abbe Land is trying to start a relationship with me. I get letters from her pretty much every day, now. Never four at once, though. She must be lonely.
Of course, I'm listed on the voter roster as a Permanent Absentee Voter, which means I get to do all my voting from the comfort of my living room instead of in a tiny curtained booth. It also means I already voted. Two weeks ago.
... and this is just for the primaries. I can't wait until November rolls around.
Monday, June 05, 2006
La Jolla Canyon
We've been having some pretty amazing weather here in Southern California recently. Our so-called "June Gloom" marine layer was conspicuously absent for much of last week, and the weekend air was remarkably clear. So on Sunday, after a night of Guitar Hero-partying, I woke up early and drove out to Ventura County.
After about an hour driving on the Pacific Coast Highway (with the windows down, naturally), I parked on the side of the road of the southwestern corner of Point Mugu State Park. A small campground on the beach was starting to fill up with sunbathers and families getting ready to escape the predicted 90-degree-heat. I crossed the highway and headed into the wooded trailhead.
The first part of the trail wound through the coastal mountains, climbing steadily upward. This was pretty much the only elevation gain, so I figured I'd get it over with right away. Under full sun in a cloudless sky, the heat was fairly intense. I'd spent two days in the desert last weekend, but I'm pretty sure I sweat more in that three mile climb than I did all day in the desert.
Thankfully, the trail had some pretty amazing views to keep my mind off the sun. Lizards darted across the trail in front of me, while hummingbirds hovered in the chaparral. I even managed to see a few quail and a small rabbit hiding out. This section was very close to the coastline, too, so there was a great mix of air currents to keep me on my toes. Every so often, a sage-scented blast of hot air would come whistling out of the inland canyons - just as quickly countered with a cool, thick salty breeze pulled up from the ocean. And if that wasn't enough, the trail was lined with late-blooming flowers, adding even more color to the green hills.
The first part of the trail ended at a fire road that straddled the ridge between two expansive valleys. To the west was a sea of waving grasslands in the La Jolla Natural Preserve; to the east, the Tri-Peaks and lower Big Sycamore Canyon (the upper section of which I'd partially hiked back in April). I've been past these mountains looking toward where I was standing right now. It was nice to get the reverse angle. Were I filming a conversation between the peaks, I'd have all the coverage I need.
The fire road soon reached a fork, and I took a trail that led back down into La Jolla Valley and its immense, flat grassland - one of the few native Californian grasslands in existence today. The trail wound through the five-foot-tall stalks, which was a huge change of pace from the exposed ridgeline road I'd just come off of. When the wind passed through the canyon, the grass swayed with a light rustling noise, broken only by a few crows flying overhead.
The effect was immediately peaceful ... except, being raised in Connecticut - the Home of Lyme Disease - I was constantly stopping to check every piece of exposed skin for ticks. Still, a pretty amazing sight.
Suddenly, the grassland trail descended into a fairly dense forest, which surrounded a small hidden lake. Maybe I've been spending too much time in the desert, but when I saw the lake on the map, I'd just assumed it would be a dry one. It was nice to see some water on the trail.
What wasn't so nice to see was the poison oak practically blanketing the trail near the water. Large sections of the rest of the trail were equal parts hiking and impromptu games of "Dodge The Shiny Leaves" and its companion game, "Oh Shit, Was That Poison Oak?"
And then, almost as suddenly as the forest had come on, the trail turned into a deep, rocky canyon, hemmed in by rocky cliffs on either side.
At this point, you must be saying to yourself, 'Damn. What else could this trail possibly need?' I know I was. I'd come in expecting just a simple coastal canyon and some grasslands and gotten scrub, wildflowers, ridgeline views, forests, lakes, caves, cliffs, and actual amber waves of grain. Oh, you were looking for a waterfall? 'Cause this trail's got one of those, too.
It is getting close to the dry season, so the fall was just a small trickle, but it was still enough of a plunge to get that relaxing waterfall white noise. After relaxing on some nearby boulders for a while, I packed up, hiked out, and headed home ... where I promptly drank about a gallon of water.
Distance Hiked: 9.1 miles
Total Footsteps: 18,067
How Much I Love The Huge Numbers The 'Footsteps' Statistic Creates: Very Much.
As always, more pictures on Flickr.
After about an hour driving on the Pacific Coast Highway (with the windows down, naturally), I parked on the side of the road of the southwestern corner of Point Mugu State Park. A small campground on the beach was starting to fill up with sunbathers and families getting ready to escape the predicted 90-degree-heat. I crossed the highway and headed into the wooded trailhead.
The first part of the trail wound through the coastal mountains, climbing steadily upward. This was pretty much the only elevation gain, so I figured I'd get it over with right away. Under full sun in a cloudless sky, the heat was fairly intense. I'd spent two days in the desert last weekend, but I'm pretty sure I sweat more in that three mile climb than I did all day in the desert.
Thankfully, the trail had some pretty amazing views to keep my mind off the sun. Lizards darted across the trail in front of me, while hummingbirds hovered in the chaparral. I even managed to see a few quail and a small rabbit hiding out. This section was very close to the coastline, too, so there was a great mix of air currents to keep me on my toes. Every so often, a sage-scented blast of hot air would come whistling out of the inland canyons - just as quickly countered with a cool, thick salty breeze pulled up from the ocean. And if that wasn't enough, the trail was lined with late-blooming flowers, adding even more color to the green hills.
The first part of the trail ended at a fire road that straddled the ridge between two expansive valleys. To the west was a sea of waving grasslands in the La Jolla Natural Preserve; to the east, the Tri-Peaks and lower Big Sycamore Canyon (the upper section of which I'd partially hiked back in April). I've been past these mountains looking toward where I was standing right now. It was nice to get the reverse angle. Were I filming a conversation between the peaks, I'd have all the coverage I need.
The fire road soon reached a fork, and I took a trail that led back down into La Jolla Valley and its immense, flat grassland - one of the few native Californian grasslands in existence today. The trail wound through the five-foot-tall stalks, which was a huge change of pace from the exposed ridgeline road I'd just come off of. When the wind passed through the canyon, the grass swayed with a light rustling noise, broken only by a few crows flying overhead.
The effect was immediately peaceful ... except, being raised in Connecticut - the Home of Lyme Disease - I was constantly stopping to check every piece of exposed skin for ticks. Still, a pretty amazing sight.
Suddenly, the grassland trail descended into a fairly dense forest, which surrounded a small hidden lake. Maybe I've been spending too much time in the desert, but when I saw the lake on the map, I'd just assumed it would be a dry one. It was nice to see some water on the trail.
What wasn't so nice to see was the poison oak practically blanketing the trail near the water. Large sections of the rest of the trail were equal parts hiking and impromptu games of "Dodge The Shiny Leaves" and its companion game, "Oh Shit, Was That Poison Oak?"
And then, almost as suddenly as the forest had come on, the trail turned into a deep, rocky canyon, hemmed in by rocky cliffs on either side.
At this point, you must be saying to yourself, 'Damn. What else could this trail possibly need?' I know I was. I'd come in expecting just a simple coastal canyon and some grasslands and gotten scrub, wildflowers, ridgeline views, forests, lakes, caves, cliffs, and actual amber waves of grain. Oh, you were looking for a waterfall? 'Cause this trail's got one of those, too.
It is getting close to the dry season, so the fall was just a small trickle, but it was still enough of a plunge to get that relaxing waterfall white noise. After relaxing on some nearby boulders for a while, I packed up, hiked out, and headed home ... where I promptly drank about a gallon of water.
Distance Hiked: 9.1 miles
Total Footsteps: 18,067
How Much I Love The Huge Numbers The 'Footsteps' Statistic Creates: Very Much.
As always, more pictures on Flickr.
Labels: hiking
