Five Burning Questions

1. Why is the TV show House appealing?
There aren't any sarcastic undertones to that question either: I actually like watching it, and I can't really figure out why. Every episode (that I've seen) is cut from the same mold. Patient has some bizarre ailment, House yells at people while popping "tic-tacs" and orders 16 hard-to-pronounce drug regimens and tests, patient pushed to the brink of death, House does something funny with his cane. Finally, the mystery is solved, and its always some sorely disappointing and anticlimactic solution. "She's been having hallucinations, is going blind, suffers from crippling seizures...I've got it! She's been eating moldy bread...which, when combined with this genetic disorder, causes symptoms similar to taking LSD." And yet, I watch and love it! And since in real life he also has a British accent, Hugh Laurie is my hero.

2. What is former Cleveland Cavaliers all-star Brad Daugherty doing covering NASCAR?
Bizarro-world. It's like watching Comedy Central presents Pat Robertson, or maybe Mr. T hosting a show on the Weather Channel. (Resisting the temptation of a cheap "I pity the fool" quote...)

3. Why do I only want Chick-fil-a on Sunday?
It was Sunday afternoon at 1pm, and there was only one thing that actually sounded good to eat: a Chick-fil-A sandwich. Why is it that these cravings and temptations never come on a weekday, when they're actually OPEN? Does anyone else out there have this problem? I think I'm going to start hoarding them and turn one of my kitchen drawers into a Super Top Secret Chick-fil-A Sandwich Stash.

4. How is my bamboo plant still alive?
I happened upon a bamboo plant around last Thanksgiving, and I've somehow managed to keep this thing alive for 9 months now by supplying it only with Ozarka twice a week. Doesn't keeping a plant alive (even bamboo) involve some kind of fertilizer, or at least soil? There's a few pebbles around its base, but if I'm not mistaken it's mostly styrofoam keeping it in place. Not sure that's how God intended it.

5. Are the people in charge of road construction in the city of Dallas insane?
My office building is located on a really short street called Rambler Road that runs north-south and dead-ends on the north at Meadow Rd and on the south at Walnut Hill Rd. Both intersections are completely under construction; one is completely impassable, and the other is only navigable by coming at it from eastbound Meadow Rd and turning right. Our building is fourteen stories tall, so there are plenty of people trying to make it through that war zone at 8:30 am. And, oh yeah, there's a big elementary school zone all along this area on Meadow, which as of tomorrow, will be infinitely busier as the youngsters march back to school with Jonas Brothers lunchboxes in hand. All this is adding up to become the perfect storm of morning rush hour traffic tomorrow morning. I worry that one day I'll be trapped there forever, and will be forced to live off of vending machine foodstuffs for weeks.

Well, that's enough meaningless rambling for one blog entry. Maybe one day my blog will contain some nugget of useful information for some loyal reader out there.

But I wouldn't bet on it.

Funny Because It's Late In The Work Week And I'm Tired

From the guys who brought you the MAN-tage:



Oh, the things I could do if only I had a camera, Final Cut Pro, and hundreds of hours to waste...

In Memoriam: LeRoi Moore

Not many people know that Dave Matthews Band was, in fact, not founded by Dave Matthews. It was saxophonist LeRoi Moore who, one Thursday night at a Charlottesville, Virginia, bar named Miller's, first suggested to a bartender named David J. Matthews that they start recording together. The rest is history.

Yesterday, LeRoi Moore passed away at the unbelievably young age of 46.

I'll never be able to listen to that sax solo in "Rapunzel" in the same way again. So long, LeRoi. You will be missed.

Sometimes a Jimi Thing...

Each of my last three summers has drawn to a close with a real exclamation point. It's pretty much tradition now for me to, on a typical hot and muggy Dallas night, make the short 10-minute drive to Smirnoff Music Center (now Superpages.com Center, but whatever), a truly magical outdoor amphitheater in the sense that Coors Light and cotton t-shirts apparently quintuple in cost.

But I don't go for the beer. No, I go for the Dave Matthews Band experience. The show of '06 was pretty unforgettable, but last night's performance beat it out by about eight lengths. It's usually tough for me to let my guard down and start acting like I can sing and dance, but not on this night. Let's plow through an abridged version of the setlist, shall we?

Pantala Naga Pampa/Rapunzel - Stupid traffic! Missed the opening, but I'd seen both of these before. My cousin and I waltzed into our seats between Rapunzel and...
Proudest Monkey - Eh, a little slow. Took this opportunity to snap a picture of the stage for my new cell wallpaper.
So Damn Lucky - About here we realized that a wiry, long-haired, tank-top-clad Tim Reynolds, who appeared to walk straight out of a Led Zeppelin music video, was on stage! Only he could turn a usually dull song into a full-blown jamfest.
Eh Hee - A strange but absolutely infectious song, with a really interesting story about a tribe from southern Africa behind its origin.
Cornbread - "A little bit of heaven and a little bit of hell yeah." Never seen Dave dance like that to this bluegrass-y tune. Would've been even better had he donned overalls and a straw hat.
Lover Lay Down - Not my favorite. Got a beer.
Money - Cover of the Pink Floyd song. Don't think anyone expected that one. Also, learned Michael Phelps won his eighth gold during this song. USA! USA!
Jimi Thing - Here's where it really started picking up. Crowd sings the first two verses, Dave approves and lets us have the solo. Gave his vocal chords a rest. Probably 15 minutes of musical nirvana.
Halloween - Formerly a rarity on tour, they've started making this one a bit of a regular this year. I approve...easily the most frenetic and high-octane part of the show.
Ants Marching - Hadn't heard this one before live...lived up to my ridiculous expectations. Fiddlist Boyd Tinsley brought down the house.
Stay - Just when we were ready to endure the fake ending, they break into Stay. Crowd and Josh-pleaser.
Sledgehammer (encore) - Wish I knew this one, but good nonetheless.
Two Step (encore) - Everyone knew it was coming when Jeff Coffin picked up the barisax. 20-minute jam session, with Carter Beauford's insane drumming taking the blue ribbon for "Most Kick-Ass Solo", fittingly ends the night.

Nothing like a Dave show to make you forget all about life and free your mind. "Well sometime a Jimi thing just slide my way and keep me swinging." Couldn't have put it better myself, Dave.

Album Review #5: John Mayer Trio

Try! (Live), by John Mayer Trio (2005)

For a while I kind of ignored John Mayer. I kinda figured he fell into the same category of artists as The Fray, Maroon 5, and Jason Mraz; that is, the "Non-Threatening Guys Who Kinda Play Guitar But Are Really Famous With The Ladies Because Of Their Looks And Cheezy Lyrics" category. (Note to the female readership: Excuse the preceding sentence as a shallow comment that probably is fueled more than anything by jealousy and an attempt to appear manly. I'm not a sexist jerk.) I don't know, something doesn't feel right to me about purchasing a CD whose hit track is titled "Your Body Is A Wonderland."

But that was the ignorant me. Turns out, my spontaneous purchase of John Mayer Trio's live cut, Try!, has proved to be one of the most pleasant surprises in my music-listening career. What actually sold me on my decision to buy it was the discovery that it included a cover of a Jimi Hendrix song, "Wait Until Tomorrow". That and the fact that it was live, which, as an avid Dave Matthews Band fan, always has the potential to earn major Josh points.

The reality is that I've probably run through this album, all eleven songs, probably damn near 30 or 40 times, either at the office, the car, or the crib. It's just so listen-able, and guitarist Mayer, bassist Pino Palladino, and drummer Steve Jordan just never go stale.

The first three tracks put any doubts I had regarding Mayer's talent with the guitar to rest. "Who Did You Think I Was", "Good Love Is On The Way", and the aforementioned Jimi cover are all lively tracks that feature a pretty good amount of jamming. Then he slows it down a bit with what is my favorite track, "Gravity", with an easy, slow-walking pace, eloquent solos, and emotional lyrics ("Gravity is working against me / And gravity wants to bring me down / ... / Oh gravity, stay the hell away from me / gravity has taken better men than me / Just keep me where the light is"). "Out Of My Mind" is purely a blues ballad that you might hear walking down Beale Street, and you get a touch of R&B in "Vultures" and a nod to the late great Ray Charles, "I Got A Woman".

There's really something for everyone on Try!, and its variety is part of what makes it so great. The texture of the music is excellent, too. The sound produced by these three musicians always seems to be just right; it's never overwhelming and over-the-top, but you never feel like something's missing, either. (No pun intended...see track number 9) The emotion with which Mayer sings and plays is always so expressive, as well. All of which are reasons that you don't get tired of listening to it.

Kudos, Mr. Mayer. Maybe now I'll give The Fray a chance.

Grade: A

Nothing Feels Worse

So the evening began as an attempt to relieve a little stress, after what's started off as a not-so-great week. Basketball has usually been my outlet for stress and one of my best ego-boosters. Considering mine was about as sturdy as a swaying Jenga tower, I figured it'd be a good thing to do.

I ventured through the UTD athletic center parking lot to the outdoor basketball court and was confronted with a group of guys who, clearly, where bigger, faster, and better than me. Undaunted (at least, that's how I tried to present myself), I began warming up as the half-court 3-on-3 match at the other end was wrapping up. I felt pretty good...it was a cool (relatively) 92 degrees outside, I swished about 5 or 6 shots in a row. Things were looking up.

Until the game started. 5-on-5, full court. A pass goes sailing over my head...if only I were 6' 6" like my teammates. Oh well, not my fault.

I make a good interior pass to a cutter, who lays it in. Alright, maybe we're on to something.

But that's when it fell apart. I missed several wide-open looks (including one that got sent back to the parking lot by who I think was Dwight Howard), one wide-open lay-up, and bumble a few passes out of bounds and another that careens off my forehead. The guys heckle me, saying things like (1) "He too scared to make it." (2) "Play off of him, he can't shoot." and my personal favorite, (3) "Man, your hair says you're Steve Nash, but your shot says you're Danny Devito." Great. There's no worse feeling than when, on defense, nobody's guarding you, so it's essentially 4-on-5. And they're right to do so.

We lost. And my teammates wanted nothing to do with me afterwards. What do you do in that situation? Walk off the court, head down, trying desperately to convey to anyone who may be watching that you're just off your game this one night. I felt like those warriors in The Last Samurai who, rather than fighting till the end, would rather acknowledge defeat and let the opponent finish you off. (Metaphorically. I could do without the katana to the head.)

It's all so frustrating, because you grow up spending countless hours in the driveway as a kid developing your game to the point where you know you can be consistent. But those guys on that court tonight didn't know that. To them, I was just some rookie who folded under pressure, and probably just got really lucky when I did make a few shots in a row while I was warming up. For every night that I'm a skinny little white guy who dominates (if that) the court, I have at least five nights like tonight...but I guess it's worth it.

Oh well. There's not much that can pick my spirits up after that, but "The Office" night on TBS will help. Speaking of...

Not Your Usual Animated Flick

Isn't it nice when a story transcends any sort of political or ideological alignments to send a message that is audible to everyone?

I saw Wall-E for the second time over the weekend. Watching movies twice is something I often do. Since I know how the story itself unfolds the second time, I usually look for some of the more subtle elements of theatrical storytelling: the music, the technical aspects, the cinematography, or even searching for some sort of between-the-lines meaning that floats underneath the plot. Wall-E is most certainly not without deep and meaningful truths.

Caution: If you've haven't seen Wall-E yet, save reading this blog until after you've seen it. You really owe it to yourself to see this movie without any kind of preconceived notions. Really, go see it now.

Now that we got that out of the way, let's first give those geniuses at Pixar their due; it's truly a visually captivating film. There's not one frame in this 132-minute epic that isn't spectacular. I am continually impressed by the imagination of these guys. And might I point out that so many of the names in the end credits got their start on "The Simpsons": Brad Bird and Jim Reardon, to name two. The first half-hour contains no dialogue whatsoever, telling a story in a Charlie Chaplin-esque style to which most modern moviegoers are not accustomed. Allusions to other literary and cinematic works, most notably 2001, are sprinkled throughout.

But the technical brilliance of Wall-E is merely the beginning. The depth of its story and the gravity of some of its implications overwhelm you as you're watching it. It's nearly impossible to sum the premise this film up in five sentences, but in the interest of further analysis, I will try. Earth has been completely trashed by its inhabitants; not by greenhouse gases or nuclear waste, but literally with trash, as fueled by an ultra-consumerist government/corporation hybrid that really depends upon technology for everything. While robots are left behind to clean up the mess (one of which is Wall-E), all of Earth's inhabitants are sent to space on a five year uber-vacation where robots tend to humans' every need. Small problem: Earth actually has become so toxic that it's become uninhabitable, so the vacation turns permanent. Humans don't really seem to mind, as they're perfectly happy in an environment where their needs are always immediately fulfilled and all work (including walking) is eliminated. But, as the story unfolds, humans eventually rebel and prevail over the oppressive (not in the usual sense) regime of the ship's robotic auto pilot, Auto.

And of course, analysts on various 24-hour news networks stooped a little low and stirred up controversy around this movie. (Which shocked me, given the depth of their usual programming. I'm kidding.) Is Wall-E just tree-hugging environmentalist and anti-consumerist propaganda? Is it a criticism of liberalism, saying that big government will eventually choke the individuality out of us?



I believe that if you're making such an argument, you're kind of missing the point, and you're only trying to use the themes presented in this film to discredit those whose opinions don't match you're own. That's not to say that there aren't important lessons here: it's conceivable that we could end up as brainless and over-pampered blobs who must always have our eyes pasted to some sort of computer screen. And that's pretty undesirable.

Wall-E teaches us that humanity is unbelievably important and is something we cannot lose. The irony of Wall-E lies in the fact that the robots are the most human entities in this movie (at least until the end). The love story between robots Wall-E and Eve only can develop when they transcend their internal programming and circuitry that should compel them only to accomplish a certain set of tasks. Also, it seems to me (and some other columnists and bloggers) that Wall-E is easy to connect to because he (or it?) is charged with the relatively menial task of collecting and compacting trash. There's something awfully human about hard work.

I was pleased to read some approving columns from both sides of the political warzone. New York Times columnist Frank Rich wrote some interesting things in his column. To continue my Jon Stewart-esque criticism of 24-hour news, "While the real-life grown-ups on TV were again rebooting Vietnam, the kids at Wall-E were in deep contemplation of a world in peril — and of the future that is theirs to make what they will of it. Compare any 10 minutes of the movie with 10 minutes of any cable-news channel, and you’ll soon be asking: Exactly who are the adults in our country and who are the cartoon characters?"

And conservative columnist Rod Dreher provided some interesting analysis as well: "Wall-E says that humans have within themselves the freedom to rebel, to overthrow that which dominates and alienates us from our true selves, and our own nature. But you have to question the prime directive; that is, you have to become conscious of how the way you're living is destroying your body and killing your soul, and choose to resist. Wall-E contends that real life is hard, real life is struggle, and that we live most meaningfully not by avoiding pain and struggle, but by engaging it creatively, and sharing that struggle in community." (Full column at, yes, beliefnet.com)

The bottom line is that Wall-E is just a great story with lessons that we should all repeat to ourselves occasionally. (And by the way, even if it is "environmentalist propaganda", is that such a terrible thing?) But one thing is for sure: the fact that Wall-E has the depth to allow for such discussions, when compared to the usual fare in the animated film industry, let alone its technical brilliance, is reason enough to convince me that it should at least be in the running for Best Picture at next February's Academy Awards.

Anyone still reading? Didn't think so.

Doppelganger Alert

It's amazing what realizations you come to after a couple of hours of meaningless surfing while you're confined to the indoors because of 295-degree outdoor temperatures.

Newly crowned number one ranked tennis star Rafael Nadal, and Pineapple Express stoner Saul Silver. Separated at birth? You decide.

Human = Battery?

So I think by now we're all familiar with this whole energy crisis thing. One day, we'll run out of bubblin' crude if today's trends continue. Really, that applies to all fossil fuels; coal, natural gas, whatever. And just like anyone familiar with SimCity, I'm thinking we're still a little far away from that magic fusion power plant that generates an insane amount of power with no pollution.

We've all become accustomed to hearing about the usual alternative energy sources, primarily wind, solar, and nuclear. But wind and solar power are dependent on nature, which in most locales is hardly reliable. Nuclear power plants aren't necessarily great either, given their propensity to turn squirrels radioactive, like that one Simpsons episode. For most people, the list of viable alternative energy sources ends here.

But according to this article on CNN, one major energy source is becoming more and more popular: the human body. In fact, humans are being used to supply all needed electricity to run a gym in Hong Kong and a dance club in London. Let me stop you before you think people are unconsciously held captive in orange tubs of goo while machines harness human body heat, a la The Matrix. No, think more in terms of kinetic energy. Think about it: the energy you expend to live a normal day could be somehow captured and converted into electricity. That's how hybrid cars work, right? Driver applies brakes, grinding of brakes against the wheel produces energy, car converts energy to electricity, which then powers the car.

This whole human energy thing sounds great, but how could we possibly harvest the energy generated by everyday motion? I for one think we as a society are intelligent and creative enough, especially after reading how that aforementioned dance club works. "Club Surya [utilizes] crystals in blocks under the dance-floor that rub together with the assistance of dancers on the floor. This generates an electrical charge which is then fed into batteries. A second method using wheels to generate energy under a slightly moving floor will be used at the soon-to-be-opened Club Watt. This model involves coils and magnets which move under the dance-floor to create a charge."

Who knows...maybe one day these methods can at least contribute to our energy crisis. It looks like the geniuses at ESPN have already figured this one out, too: