CCA Holiday Video 2007

Oh, the merriment!

I've got my top 3 now...

Rivers Edge last night, Colin behind the bar, beard on the face, Galaga/Ms Pacman in the corner. Good stuff. I now have my top 3 arcade games that I will purchase once I have some scratch:

1. Ninja Turtles - Me, Ian & the old man beat this game at the KoP mall about 15 years ago, and it was glorious. It was probably the greatest memory of my Dad acting like a child, or most appropriate I guess. I don't remember if we had to be somewhere. I don't remember if we had anything else to do that day. Because we didn't leave that spot until the game was beaten. Random kids would come in and play a few levels, filling in the other 2 positions, but Ian and I held strong, and Father kept getting quarters until we fucked up Shredder and Krang at the end. We beat the game. I remember nothing else from that day, probably a psychological block, but I remember going to town on the Ninja Turles game. I want this game. #1.

2. The Simpsons game. Pretty much the Turtles with different graphics. But come on, its the Simpsons and it's awesome. The last time I saw this game was in Belmar, NJ back before I was dating a Jersey girl, Mike was dating a Jersey girl, and Simon was still around. Seeing Simon next week would be pretty top notch. But it was raining in Belmar (God, I wish I would have known that area of NJ would be my hell someday) so we ducked into an arcade, and sure enough they had the Simpsons game. Simon and I beat that shit that day. Another good day. Kel was dating Dan, but it was still a good day.

To quote Craig: If I had the Turtles and the Simpsons video games, I would be so happy right now.

3. Right, Galaga/Ms Pacman. Sure, it seems like such a staple of arcade games, and maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol in our systems (definitely, maybe) but playing Galaga was fucking AMAZING last night. And then Michelle & Deric rocked some Ms Pacman and THAT was amazing. I want this machine in my home so it can be amazing everynight. It's the reverse food chain of video games. I like these more than Genesis. I like Genesis more than PS2. #4 on the list would be Bad Dudes, but I don't have the energy to write a paragraph on that.

1 week. 2 brothers. 3 continents.

Wednesday, we leave New York City, which is located in North America. I haven't left North America in 26 years.

Thursday morning, we wake up in Spain. That's Europe. For the next couple days we'll travel Spain, from Madrid to Sevilla to the vicinity of Gibraltar...

Sunday should find us in Morocco. That's Africa. Africa. Who would have thought a Hauze, let alone two Hauzes, would be in Africa this year. Awesome.

3 continents inside a week. Should be pretty wild. I bought a shitty $200 video camera to document it all.

Robert Goulet 1933-2007

Very unexpected. He was awaiting a lung transplant for a last few weeks and I guess time ran out. Weird, I was just watching the Simpson's $pringfield episode the other day and his gag on the ep is fantastic.

At the aiport. Bart holds up a sign reading "Robert Goulet"

Robert Goulet: Are you from a casino?

Bart: I'm from a casino.

Robert Goulet: Good enough for me. Let's go.

At Bart's treehouse casino

Robert Goulet: Are you sure this is the casino? Mr. Burns' casino? I think I should call my manager...

Nelson: Your manager says for you to shut up!

Robert Goulet: Vera said that?

I hate when celebs pass away that aren't "supposed" to pass away. He'll be missed.

GOU-LET!

2 Brothers, 2 Continents

The idea was hatched. The talk was talked. And the plane tickets have just been purchased.

The Hauze Bros. are going abroad. In two weeks, we leave for Eurasia. Our trip will have us circling Spain and Morocco from Madrid to Sevilla to Tangier and back. Do we know what we're doing? Hell no. Any ideas on how to get around? None. Will it be an adventure? Most definitely.

Our trip will include but not be limited to these things:

Eating more spanish food than is recommended for one person

Bullfights

Snake Charmers

Camel Rides

Rocking the Kasbah

Flying Carpets

Trainrides across the Spanish countryside

Flamenco Dancers

Linen Suits

Adventure

My Beige Whale

I haven't owned a car since the Whale Shark. Imagine this, only without AC, power windows, a working gas tank meter, and the uncertainty of death constantly reinforcing itself everytime you turn the key and put it in drive:

My love affair with the Whale Shark ended about 3 years ago. Now my new whore mistress is the BMW 330xi. In blue. Mmmm. Does anybody have 35K I can hold for a minute?

I also want you in dark blue.

My White Whale

Everybody has a neverending quest. Something you've wanted your entire life, but just have never been able to make it happen, to connect, to quench that thirst of all thirsts. For some it's a girl. For some it's a dream job. For some it's rare piece of memorabilia, like an original pressing of a record or a priceless work of art. For me....it's this:



I have been looking for a clean version of this theme song for years. Years. And it started small. I heard the song. I liked it. I wanted to hear it whenever I wanted. Not at 1130am on a Tuesday on TBS. And this was before the digital age was fully realized. I didn't have a Google search. I didn't have YouTube. I didn't have iTunes. And now I do. And I STILL can't find a good copy of this song.

I do, finally, have a shitty recording of this song. I found a windows media version on some TV Theme website where some guy records songs on a boombox to tape off his television. So I've got that. But it sucks. And there's a CBS themes CD out there somewhere with this song on it, I remember seeing it at a Tower Records (RIP) back in high school, but being the high schooler I was, I didn't have the $20 to impulsively drop on a CD like that. And now thru Amazon, iTunes, you name it, I can't find that CD. Stinks.

So the quest continues. I will find this song. I will have a clean version, on my iTunes, for me to dance around a black and white New York City to. It will be mine, oh yes, it will be mine.

Cosby Theme. It's called Monk's Hat. Written by Benny Golson. The Don Braden Octet does a version of it. To be continued...

A Trip

Being the impulsive Hauzes we are, brother and I want to take a trip in the spirit of The Darjeeling Limited. After some beers and some brainstorming last night, and a Phillies loss to boot, I think we came to the combination of Spain and Morocco over the course of a week. Flight to Spain, boatride to Tangier? Does that make sense? Expedia doesn't think so, but I do.

We're looking to go somewhere that isn't obvious. No England. No Japan. Australia's a wee bit too far. Morocco just seems like a good destination...maybe in the spirit of Almost Famous, but then again, maybe in the spirit of the Bourne Ultimatum. I'm hoping it's in the spirit of buying some linen suits and just exploring for a week. No tours, no attractions. Local color. Sunlit taverns with a creaky fan providing miniman circulation. A feast for the eyes and the soul. You know...equal parts amazing and affordable. Easy, right?

I think the Spain/Portugal/Morocco area can offer that. And you know, maybe a flight that gives us a layover in Amsterdam, just for good measure.

Big Sur made me realize there's a lot I haven't seen. Being single made me realize there are a lot of people I still have to meet. Having no stamps in my passport makes me realize that I should get out there and see some of the world. The Hauze boys could use a good trip.

I wish the sister could come too, but she's already gone international, and she's got college to have fun with for now. There will be a Hauze kids trip in the future, no doubt, but for now the boys will test the waters. We already balked on our London trip early this year, so this one's got to go down, for the sake of sanity and good health. Well, not really that serious, but you know, it would be a damn good trip.

A Letter to All the Lonely Numbers

Dear all you marked single, swinger, cod, or skirt,

After about 3 solid months in the ones column (but really, if you break it down it's been a little longer), I finally came to this little revelation today, and I'd like to pass it along to anyone who wants to agree or disagree with it. This might be common knowledge that I'm just discovering, so please excuse my naivety, as I'm fairly new to this whole confidence game.

Many things happened over the last month and a half which have brought me to this idea of mine. Definitely the most prominent was/are the antics of a little fucking douchebag creep giving out single servings of "hickeys" to ex-girlfriends...but let's not dwell on that nonsense, because like my mugging a couple months ago, the happenings have ended up helping, not hurting.

Okay, okay, enough prologue, let's get to the point. The dance floor (by dance floor I mean singles scene, but dance floor sounds cooler) is a peculiar and sexy temptress. On one hand, you've got to suck up your belly, pride, and confidence all at once and initiate conversation with a person you don't even know. First impressions are a cold hard bitch, so the first step ain't the easiest by a long shot. But then once you do get past the inaugural "hello," it's time to start getting sized up. You start juggling, and this person you introduced yourself to is seeing just what kinds of objects you can keep in the air. "Okay, he can handle tennis balls, so let's try throwing a pirate sword into the mix." "Okay, he handled the pirate sword with some dry wit and then casual touched my shoulder, so let's throw a live porcupine in the air and see how he handles that." And that's the way the dance begins. Every. Single. Time.

So by now, either you've dropped a few items and ran off stage, or you've kept everything in the air and basically said "Listen, I'm obviously an amazing performer, so let's get casual, okay?" You buy them a drink. You get into it. And here's the next roadblock. My friend, who is not me but has the same mother as me and is not my sister, thinks a nice girl is going to be turned off by his personality, once he reveals the real brother deep down. And to that I say horse puckey! My main argument comes in here: if you think they're going to judge you for who you are, why don't you just fire right back and judge them for who they are not.

Example: I am now quite comfortable going out on a Saturday night wearing a t-shirt, jeans, my shit hot air force ones, and maybe a little scruff on my face. And when I'm out and I've knocked out the first two steps on the dance floor, I'm going to highlight the fact that I frequently enjoy comic books, I watch dangerously high doses of TV, have an intense obsession with food, or will kiss Deric on the face if it gets a laugh. And I don't care who laughs, as long as somebody does. And if she has a problem with anything you happen to mention about yourself, you're the not one with a problem. Why doesn't she like comic books? Because they're nerdy? Nope. Certain comics are awesome. I'm not at the comic store every Wednesday picking up the new X-Men or what-have-you, but I do enjoy an issue of Scud, the Goon, or the latest Doug TenNapel every now and again. Or how about TV? I'm a huge fan of the show Angel. Why? Because it's a great fucking show, end of explanation. What does she read? What does she watch? Is she funny, or just good looking? Because looks ain't looks without a sense of humor. And in my book, looks don't exist without a sense of humor.

So instead of "categories" of people -- "frat boys" "wallflowers" "geeks" "dweebs" "motorheads" "assholes" "dickheads" "sluts" "prudes" "waifs" "cockblockers" "annoying friends" -- let's start implementing "individualities." Yes, this is sort of "everybody is a unique snowflake," but not really. Because you will meet people who are similar. Who are unoriginal. Who are dull, boring, rude, smug, shitty. But how does that shittiness bounce off of you? Maybe you're a little shitty yourself. There is no ideal candidate for your ballot. It's politics, but right now, everybody should get 1% of the vote. If you even vote at all. Everyone's in the race, and your vote can go in any direction, because there's plenty of time until the polls open.

I've battled self-esteem issues pretty much nonstop since the 8th grade. (What's up 'injury to my happy place'?) Didn't get laid in high school. Always wore other people's nicer clothes when I went out during college. Spent 5 years with a girl who, at the end, told me she was no longer physically attracted to me, but wanted to stay together because she loved me (I'm sorry, was that more an insult or compliment. Maybe it was an implement. A knife to my brain, heart, and crotch at the same time.) So the whole confidence racket has been a tough one for me to break into. But I think I'm there, thanks in no small part to Deric's lucky red shoes, but also to the fact that I'm going to be me, and if you don't like me, you can fuck right off. The Hauzes are awesome. Some say we're cursed...but maybe it's our own fault for growing up with a black cat. Fucking Phoebe, always doing something to fuck us over. But seriously, there is no curse, and there is no raised bar that you have to meet. It's the dance floor and people are dancing.

You are you and you need to be you. "She won't like me because I'm an asshole." So go out and find an asshole who will give it right back to you. "I'm not attractive." No you're not, you're just not comfortable in your shoes. Get more comfortable shoes. "I've got no game." There is no game. I tried to get game once, and I was told I didn't have it. So instead, I started acting like myself. And surprise, it's working. "I'm too fucked up for someone to be able to handle me." Yeah, that's probably right. But they're fucked up too. Don't you realize that yet? Everybody is fucked up. There are wars fought everyday over what mythical ghost people think everyone should believe in. Shows like Arrested Development and Firefly get cancelled, while shows like According to Jim and Two and a Half Men are now in syndication, their creators now very rich. Family members are estranged. Soulmates don't end up together. Verizon is always going to find a way to fuck you out of money. Hickeys are annoying whether they are on your neck or inside your ex-girlfriend. Fallout Boy is going to continue to exist. Things are fucked up everywhere. What makes you think people aren't the same? People is where fuckups come from. It's a vicious cause & effect world. You want to lock yourself in your room for a month, but then how are you going to pay rent? Shit's tough, so man up.

Fuck the Secret. Fuck the Game. Fuck any rules about the dance floor you've been told. Confidence is you. And I'm not going to write a book about it. In fact, this blog's a little too long, and if you're still reading, then do this: put on the comfortable shoes and get the fuck out there. Because it's a great fucking time. And even if things don't go in the optimum direction, you'll still have food and TV waiting for you at the end of the day, and two out of three ain't bad.

Big Sur, later that day...

I've never really traveled. Never been out of the country. Don't really vacation. I've been to Key West three times, that's the big one so far. I've been to New Orleans. Detroit. LA. Maine. Let's see...Ohio. The great IL. Wisconsin.

All stink in comparison to Big Sur/Monterey, California. I'm here for work, and work means driving up and down Rt. 1 all day. It's amazing.

I'm not one to take pictures of myself. And I'm not one to be impressed by nature. But today both happened. Big Sur might just be the most breathtaking thing mine eyes have ever seen. I didn't really need another reason to move out to CA, but this sure didn't hurt.