Yes, George Carlin was a hilarious and hugely influential stand-up comedian, yadda yadda yadda. But you know what, I've got a bone to pick with that little weasel. For most of my adult life I've had a complex about my name, all thanks to the following bit:
You're probably laughing now, but try spending your prime adult years attempting to make a good first impression on people when every time you introduce yourself you hear George Carlin going "Taaaahhd" in the back of your head. Yeah, it's not that funny anymore. It kind of takes you down a notch.
Todd. Taaaahhd.
The Mrs., bless her heart, never fails to remind me how ridiculous my name is. There are really only two kinds of Todds in the world, she tells me, ice skaters and the villains from '80s teen comedies, who are typically blond and chiseled. For the record, I don't happen to fall into either category.
But George was right: Todd is a goofy fucking name.
Is it too late to start going by my middle name?
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
My life is now complete
How did I manage to go so far in my life without ever having seen this before?
Friday, June 06, 2008
I don't even know where to begin
What's been going on at the Well Respected Blog? Only one post per month, and the last post was just a comic? Christ, I'm slipping. Okay, I'll try to bring the WRB back up to speed with a quick list of what I've been distracted by recently:
1. Moving.
2. Blogging about moving elsewhere.
3. Making sweet muzak:
3a. Band 1 is off to a slow start, but the tunage is promising. After two months I think we've finally found a drummer, which has really helped because rhythm guitar and bass can only hold your interest for so long. We still need another body or two to help flesh out the sound: lead guitarist, pedal steel guitarist, musical saw-er, something. I think our original goal of having an album recorded by the end of the summer is out of reach, but when the time comes (next summer?) it'll be something glorious.
3b. Band 2 started off with a bang. Nearly a month after being together we played our first show (without a name even). Here's a summation of the experience taken from an e-mail to a friend:
After the strange success of that night, we managed to land another gig at a much more reputable venue, albeit with another confusing line-up. Us, a ska band, and a group that could only be described as Wine Bar music: earthy, groovy noodling on the guitar; lite funk on the bass; and bongo drums. Yyyyeah. The bar owner liked us, however, and asked us to come back a few weeks later. We were going to but... we decided to can our drummer. Bottom line: he had a double-bass pedal. And he used it. Buh-bye. So now we've got a new drummer, and it makes all the difference in the world. We no longer sound like a post-hardcore band, now it's more like a jangly, lo-fi sound, which I think is what we were hoping for from the beginning. The only problem? The new drummer went out and joined a traveling circus, so we'll only have access to her for random weeks throughout the summer.
Let's see... what else have I been up to? Oh yes...
4. Mowing the lawn, or attempting to.
5. Working.
6. Playing with all sorts of neat political statistical toys, like this one.
7. Celebrating Obama's primary victory!
8. Watching the Sex and the City movie. Dan, you must be getting a lot of lead paint chips falling into your salads if you thought this piece of garbage was any good. Atrocious doesn't even begin to describe it. It's like the producers gathered together a focus group of devoted 13-year-old fans with a combined IQ of 87 and asked them to write a script that was as predictable, self-indulgent, and superficial as possible. Oh, and to please throw in a crap-your-pants joke for good measure, because that always gets people laughing. Christ on a stick! I wanted to gouge my eyes out and vomit out my eye sockets. And I'm not ashamed to admit that there were parts of the TV program that I enjoyed, but the movie was just plain bad. And do you want to know the worst part? I got ID'ed. I haven't been ID'ed to buy beer at bars for years now, and yet I supposedly don't look over 17 in order to get into an R-rated movie? Come on!
Okay, that's it for now. Thanks for checking in, and don't do acid.
1. Moving.
2. Blogging about moving elsewhere.
3. Making sweet muzak:
3a. Band 1 is off to a slow start, but the tunage is promising. After two months I think we've finally found a drummer, which has really helped because rhythm guitar and bass can only hold your interest for so long. We still need another body or two to help flesh out the sound: lead guitarist, pedal steel guitarist, musical saw-er, something. I think our original goal of having an album recorded by the end of the summer is out of reach, but when the time comes (next summer?) it'll be something glorious.
3b. Band 2 started off with a bang. Nearly a month after being together we played our first show (without a name even). Here's a summation of the experience taken from an e-mail to a friend:
Well, I randomly played my first gig on Friday. So fucking weird. The drummer's other band was supposed to play, but the singer had to pull out, so... we filled in instead. And, surprisingly, it went pretty well. We played 10 songs in about 16 minutes. But what was really strange, and Blanks-esque, was the line-up of other bands playing. Upstairs there was this reggae show going on, and the club had this huge, dreadlocked rasta bouncer. So all the while as we were loading our equipment into the club (we had to park like a block down the street) we had to maneuver past these slow-moving reggae dancers and the strong scent of patchouli. Downstairs, where we played, the first act was this 40+ guy doing a soft acoustic set. We dubbed him "Esteban," but it turns out his name was actually Ken. After Esteban, this Rage Against the Machine-meets-Metallica-meets-dogshit metal band plays (you know the kind, the lead singer has a huge spike through his lower lip and screams into the microphone like an angry Daughtry; the lead guitarist has shaved eyebrows and crazy eyes; the drummer has an insanely huge drumset; the bassist has a Rancid shirt on). After this awesome metal set is... another acoustic set. This time by a sensitive type guy doing covers of songs like "Wonderwall" by Oasis. And then we went on. And then this band that started with a cover of "Kick Out the Jams" by the MC5 and ended with a cover of the Stooges' "TV Eye," during which the lead singer/guitarist, who looks exactly like Mr. Rosso from Freaks & Geeks, tries to solo out in the audience in front of a bunch of horrified women. I mean, wow, you had to be there.
After the strange success of that night, we managed to land another gig at a much more reputable venue, albeit with another confusing line-up. Us, a ska band, and a group that could only be described as Wine Bar music: earthy, groovy noodling on the guitar; lite funk on the bass; and bongo drums. Yyyyeah. The bar owner liked us, however, and asked us to come back a few weeks later. We were going to but... we decided to can our drummer. Bottom line: he had a double-bass pedal. And he used it. Buh-bye. So now we've got a new drummer, and it makes all the difference in the world. We no longer sound like a post-hardcore band, now it's more like a jangly, lo-fi sound, which I think is what we were hoping for from the beginning. The only problem? The new drummer went out and joined a traveling circus, so we'll only have access to her for random weeks throughout the summer.
Let's see... what else have I been up to? Oh yes...
4. Mowing the lawn, or attempting to.
5. Working.
6. Playing with all sorts of neat political statistical toys, like this one.
7. Celebrating Obama's primary victory!
8. Watching the Sex and the City movie. Dan, you must be getting a lot of lead paint chips falling into your salads if you thought this piece of garbage was any good. Atrocious doesn't even begin to describe it. It's like the producers gathered together a focus group of devoted 13-year-old fans with a combined IQ of 87 and asked them to write a script that was as predictable, self-indulgent, and superficial as possible. Oh, and to please throw in a crap-your-pants joke for good measure, because that always gets people laughing. Christ on a stick! I wanted to gouge my eyes out and vomit out my eye sockets. And I'm not ashamed to admit that there were parts of the TV program that I enjoyed, but the movie was just plain bad. And do you want to know the worst part? I got ID'ed. I haven't been ID'ed to buy beer at bars for years now, and yet I supposedly don't look over 17 in order to get into an R-rated movie? Come on!
Okay, that's it for now. Thanks for checking in, and don't do acid.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
A Supremely Interesting Blog Post!
As you may have already noticed, I'm really quite unimpressive when it comes to this whole blogging thing. I mean, damn, if the McCain girls can grab national headlines with their grimace-inducing videos, I'm sure I could hold the attention of one or two of my distance friends at least once a week, right? All these empty days and no updates, it just gets to be a little intimidating after a while, you know.
But not this time! (<-- Credit goes to my dear friend Obama for that phrase.) Instead of worrying about having a "topic" or a "purpose" to a post, I'm just going to barf up a quick list of events that have happened to me recently (which I'm sure just sounds thrilling to you). So, fuck it, here goes:
1. I bought a house. It's a gorgeous two bedroom/two bath rehab in the Benton Park neighborhood, within noseshot of Anheuser-Busch. The best part about it? Now I get to stay positioned by my front door and yell "Git offa my property" whenever anybody walks past. As god as my witness, I am buying a gun to protect my new home. A cork pop-gun, but a gun nonetheless.
2. I survived an earthquake last night. Okay, so maybe "survive" is a strong word, since during my 15-second tussle with the seismic forces of planet earth, I spent the first third of the experience wondering if it was just my crazy cats having a heated duel at 4:30 in the morning. 'Twas not the case. In any event, I have now officially survived a tornado and an earthquake in my time. Score? Todd: 2, Mother Nature: 0.
3. Larry King is an awful interviewer. I simply cannot understand how this owlish man has earned a reputation as a master in his field. Persistence and a vampiric-like endurance are the only two plausible explanations I can come up with. Can anyone else think of a better reason?
4. If there's anything I hate more than magnetic bumper stickers (often of the "Support Our Troops" variety), it's the Live Strong bracelet. So you can only imagine my gleeful reaction upon seeing both trends mashed into one: a magnetic Live Strong bracelet on the back on an SUV. Brilliant! I heart America.
5. I've been trying to curse less. And then I drove to work this morning. Sorry, but since I'm already on a crotchety old man Andy Rooney-style roll here, allow me to make some state-by-state driving comparisons. In Michigan, people just tend to drive fast, and it's OK because the speed limit is typically higher. In southwest Ohio, people are more or less insane when they get behind the wheel, swerving in and out of lanes of traffic for no apparent reason other than to see what they can get away with (it's about as exciting as a drunken game of corn hole). The preferred method of changing lanes in metro Cincinnati is by suddenly cutting off the car behind you with only a few paint layers' distance to spare. The results are even more erratic once you head into ritzier areas like Hyde Park, where these Charles Bronsons in Beamers have no fear of increased insurance rates due to reckless accidents with commonfolk like me. In Missouri, however, people just lay on the brakes for no apparent reason. You can be driving down a perfectly straight road following a Missouri driver with no other traffic around, and then. Stop. They'll just push on their brakes and forget to speed up. It's bad enough when it's just one car breaking in front of you for no reason at all, but when you're surrounded by these oblivious blockheads, curses will fly.
6. Google rules my soul. And I'm kind of okay with that. I recently discovered the simple pleasures of Google Calendar and Google Reader, and - holy cow! - my internetting will never be the same. Sure, it's kind of scary all the data Google probably has on me, but I highly doubt I'll ever be in a situation where I would be important enough to be blackmailed by Google. "We understand you're running for Mayor, Mr. Blogger, but how would you like it if your constituents knew what you were Googling at 8:23 pm, November 14 when you were 21 years old? Bwahahahaha!" I guess I'm just not vain enough to worry.
7. I've been playing my bass again. With other people. With two other sets of people, more precisely, and things are starting to sound pretty good. If you behave, I'll even dedicate a bass solo to you -- Ooh, so smooth! You know you want it.
8. I make no guarantees that I will update this again anytime soon, or regularly thereafter.
Finally, you have to burn the rope. No, really, you do.
But not this time! (<-- Credit goes to my dear friend Obama for that phrase.) Instead of worrying about having a "topic" or a "purpose" to a post, I'm just going to barf up a quick list of events that have happened to me recently (which I'm sure just sounds thrilling to you). So, fuck it, here goes:
1. I bought a house. It's a gorgeous two bedroom/two bath rehab in the Benton Park neighborhood, within noseshot of Anheuser-Busch. The best part about it? Now I get to stay positioned by my front door and yell "Git offa my property" whenever anybody walks past. As god as my witness, I am buying a gun to protect my new home. A cork pop-gun, but a gun nonetheless.
2. I survived an earthquake last night. Okay, so maybe "survive" is a strong word, since during my 15-second tussle with the seismic forces of planet earth, I spent the first third of the experience wondering if it was just my crazy cats having a heated duel at 4:30 in the morning. 'Twas not the case. In any event, I have now officially survived a tornado and an earthquake in my time. Score? Todd: 2, Mother Nature: 0.
3. Larry King is an awful interviewer. I simply cannot understand how this owlish man has earned a reputation as a master in his field. Persistence and a vampiric-like endurance are the only two plausible explanations I can come up with. Can anyone else think of a better reason?
4. If there's anything I hate more than magnetic bumper stickers (often of the "Support Our Troops" variety), it's the Live Strong bracelet. So you can only imagine my gleeful reaction upon seeing both trends mashed into one: a magnetic Live Strong bracelet on the back on an SUV. Brilliant! I heart America.
5. I've been trying to curse less. And then I drove to work this morning. Sorry, but since I'm already on a crotchety old man Andy Rooney-style roll here, allow me to make some state-by-state driving comparisons. In Michigan, people just tend to drive fast, and it's OK because the speed limit is typically higher. In southwest Ohio, people are more or less insane when they get behind the wheel, swerving in and out of lanes of traffic for no apparent reason other than to see what they can get away with (it's about as exciting as a drunken game of corn hole). The preferred method of changing lanes in metro Cincinnati is by suddenly cutting off the car behind you with only a few paint layers' distance to spare. The results are even more erratic once you head into ritzier areas like Hyde Park, where these Charles Bronsons in Beamers have no fear of increased insurance rates due to reckless accidents with commonfolk like me. In Missouri, however, people just lay on the brakes for no apparent reason. You can be driving down a perfectly straight road following a Missouri driver with no other traffic around, and then. Stop. They'll just push on their brakes and forget to speed up. It's bad enough when it's just one car breaking in front of you for no reason at all, but when you're surrounded by these oblivious blockheads, curses will fly.
6. Google rules my soul. And I'm kind of okay with that. I recently discovered the simple pleasures of Google Calendar and Google Reader, and - holy cow! - my internetting will never be the same. Sure, it's kind of scary all the data Google probably has on me, but I highly doubt I'll ever be in a situation where I would be important enough to be blackmailed by Google. "We understand you're running for Mayor, Mr. Blogger, but how would you like it if your constituents knew what you were Googling at 8:23 pm, November 14 when you were 21 years old? Bwahahahaha!" I guess I'm just not vain enough to worry.
7. I've been playing my bass again. With other people. With two other sets of people, more precisely, and things are starting to sound pretty good. If you behave, I'll even dedicate a bass solo to you -- Ooh, so smooth! You know you want it.
8. I make no guarantees that I will update this again anytime soon, or regularly thereafter.
Finally, you have to burn the rope. No, really, you do.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
You look like a mingler
So, did you hear, the Kids in the Hall are touring, eh? I already picked up tickets for their May 20 stop at the Pageant and begrudgingly paid the exorbitant TicketMaster "convenience" fee (which is so convenient that it's actually charged to each ticket purchased, because somehow having a computer process a payment is a very costly endeavor). I can't wait.
I watched the sketch comedy show obsessively as a kid, which probably explains why my early teen humor was so bizarrely dependant on highly inappropriate queer jokes, Satan, and sarcasm. But while the show was brilliant for its oddities like chicken ladies, cabbage heads, head crushers, and flying pigs, I think oftentimes the simplest gags were the most effective. Here are a couple of my favorites skits:
I watched the sketch comedy show obsessively as a kid, which probably explains why my early teen humor was so bizarrely dependant on highly inappropriate queer jokes, Satan, and sarcasm. But while the show was brilliant for its oddities like chicken ladies, cabbage heads, head crushers, and flying pigs, I think oftentimes the simplest gags were the most effective. Here are a couple of my favorites skits:
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