Saturday, March 09, 2024
London Continuing to Call
And of course they have the Parthenon marbles there. Or what's left of them. I guess the ancient Greeks got into some money troubles and had to sell some of them to pay for the Iliad or something?
Anyway, that's it. It was a quick trip. I had thought I might see a show or something, but then I realized I was tired and there was a Five Guys right by my hotel. So I housed a bacon dog instead. Same difference.
Saturday, March 02, 2024
London Calling
I have traveled to London and back and lived to tell the tale. Barely. I could not sleep on my flight out and therefore spent my first day wandering around in a haze thinking about whether I could maybe curl up and nap on a bench in St. Paul's. Also I did not get to shower for that first day, which is very important for you to remember as you analyze my hair in photos. Oh, and United served me alleged "cheese blintzes" which were covered in a sugary, syrupy mess that nearly brought the earlier "pesto pasta" back up.
Anyway, it was a pretty good trip. I got some light tourism in, such as climbing up the dome of St. Paul's.
They also have a crypt, but not nearly as many big names as Westminster Abbey. Here's William Blake, whose memorial could frankly use a bit of a glow up.
The scale is not readily apparent here, but this thing is like four stories tall. Reasonably badass.
There is, obviously, more to tell, but I'm going to draw it out so I don't have to think of other content. Consider yourselves warned.
Saturday, February 24, 2024
The Weeknd
You know you're having a great weekend when you're compulsively searching your house for a pink spiral bound notebook containing the details of your 2000 European vacation so you can confirm whether it was the National Gallery or the British Museum you went to or both. See, I'm headed to London tomorrow for work and may have a bit of time for tourism, and god forbid I go to the same places I saw more than two decades ago. (Though the Tate Modern is exempt from that rule, as I love it and they've added a whole building since I was last there.) I mean, seeing the Rosetta Stone twice is basically an asshole move. So I have to get to the bottom of this vital issue through a little archeological dig of my own.
Other than that, I'm lightly working, getting up in the gym working on my fitness (hat tip to Fergie), and going to a Steppenwolf event that my friend is organizing tonight. Oh, and we watched Killers of the Flower Moon last night, bringing us to eight out of ten best picture nominees viewed. It was well made but so, so long. Like, we were thinking we'd split it in half but at the two hour mark just agreed that we felt a strong urge to get it wrapped up once and for all. We did take water breaks and pee breaks (circle of life), though. I can't imagine if we'd seen it in theaters and had to watch Leo make that frowny face for three and half hours straight without any kind of respite.
I also went out and saw my niece and nephew for a bit. Maggie has been cast as a pirate in a production of Peter Pan (updated and non racist, to be clear) and is absolutely loving it. I did always feel she had the appropriate qualities for piracy. Jack has just finished book six of Harry Potter and is a bit too focused on the body count for my liking. But reading is in fact fundamental, as they say.
Anyway, I'm sure to have an excessive number of thoughts on London when I return, so look out.
Saturday, February 17, 2024
Attack of the Cookies
Can we talk for a minute about the things that Google, Facebook, etc. think that I will want to buy? I mean, some of it is dead on, like cute shoes I don't need and expensive lighting fixtures I will lust after but never purchase. But some of it is downright insulting. Like, generic Viagra? What am I, the elderly father of a Real Housewife? Hair regrowth products? Obviously they have not seen my glorious mane standing at full attention after a night sleeping in my CPAP. Bride Living magazine? I am offended that they believe this is something that I would like to know exists.
And then there is the apparel they think I would like to wear: lots of animal prints, shiny fabrics, exceedingly slutty underwear, large eyewear. Unless and until I decide to audition for Mob Wives, these should remain off the table.
And don't get me started on Facebook Marketplace! Why do they think I might want a 1990 Jeep Grand Wagoneer? A lightly used vending machine? An apartment in Midlothian? These are less offensive than just plain questionable. I worry for the future of technology. Though come to think of it, some of that slutty underwear was pretty cute.
Saturday, February 10, 2024
Coming Attractions
I'm doing another show! Don't worry, it's definitely not a self-indulgent vanity production.
You can get your tickets here: Workin' It! And now I've completely made your weekend.
Sunday, February 04, 2024
Manhattan Transfer
We did a quick weekend in New York in honor of my birthday. Well, really in honor of me wanting to see Merrily We Roll Along while it's still running since it hasn't been on Broadway for roughly forty years, but my birthday was a fine enough excuse. The show was great, and I take any bad things I ever said about Daniel Radcliffe, though I can't specifically recall there really ever being any. Jonathan Groff was great too and I guess I have to officially forgive him for being friends with Lea Michele. Lindsay Mendez was actually out that night, but her understudy (Sherz Aletaha) was beyond amazing, so we didn't feel too bad about it. Five stars, definite recommend, etc. and so forth.
While we were in town we also went to the Met and had some fun meals. I forgot how exhausting the Met can be; it turns out we walked seven miles just looking at art. And the crowds are intense and seemingly wholly unaware of the concept of personal space. But we saw some good stuff I hadn't seen before or at least don't remember seeing. Also? Thomas Hart Benton. Kind of a baller. Give it a google, you'll see.
Anyway, we're back. And working tomorrow. But I'm proud of us for having fun things to break the winter up this year. It's already February and I haven't yet reached the point of total despair!
Saturday, January 27, 2024
Oscar Talk
First things first, this is not going to be any sort of discourse on Barbie and its nominations and/or non-nominations. I'll leave the hot takes to the people who actually want attention. (Well, I want it, but only the positive kind.) I did finally see Barbie and enjoyed it but I've never for a second believed that awards nominations would ever be any sort of objective barometer of quality or social worth or any of those things. The Oscars are just a thing that happens and its fine or its not but at least it's not sports for five seconds every year.
Anyway, as we often do, we've been trying to see some of the Oscar movies. It's not ideal, as it will require some degree of leaving the house in winter, as several of the nominees are not yet available on demand. But we did see Maestro, which I liked. I'm actually a complete expert on Bernstein because I read a biography of him last year, and I thought the movie was a good representation of his complexity. And frankly I would have been good just hearing the music again, because it's amazing. We also saw Saltburn, which ended up being nominated for nothing, but I really enjoyed it. Yes, it was insane and filthy and thank god I didn't try to watch it with my mother, but I thought it was beautifully shot, well acted, and completely worked on its own crazy terms. I do reject any attempt to label Barry Keoghan as "hot," as he is like four feet tall and a bit busted, but I'll look at anybody nude.
We saw Oppenheimer this summer and thought it was good? Maybe I've posted about this before? I'm too lazy to go back and look, but I thought the acting was strong, the story was well put together, and it didn't feel as long as it was. And I generally feel like I could cut twenty minutes out of every single movie without anybody really missing anything. And we saw The Holdovers. I guess I thought I'd laugh more, but I don't really know why I thought that. It was well done and I enjoyed it just fine. Feel free to put that quote on a poster.
Anyway, I guess we're about halfway through the best picture nominees. I doubt we'll make it all the way, but hey, we're doing stuff.
Saturday, January 20, 2024
Cold, Snap
It has been a wild weather week here in Chicago. Below zero temperatures (Fahrenheit, not Celsius, for the entire rest of the world) and a bit of snow. As regular readers of this space will know, cold weather makes me crazy. I had to wait ten minutes for trains a couple of times this week and I found myself swearing audibly to myself. Also, I wanted to scream at people on the train to take their goddamned backpacks off so they weren't constantly smacking others with them unintentionally. (This used to be an unwritten rule of train etiquette, along with maintaining respectful silence during rush hour, but of course COVID ruined everything.) So yes, things are going well.
I did bring out my space heater at work. It has become one of my most treasured possessions, because I love to sit right over it and essentially roast myself, but I am also incredibly insecure about it, since it is technically against building policy. (Or maybe it's some kind of local ordinance, I don't know. It's not like I'm a lawyer or anything.) I hide it at night because I fear someone from building management taking it away, as I heard tell happened at my last building. Have space heaters actually led to towering infernos before and I just don't know about it? This is 100% possible given my level of awareness of news.
Sunday, January 14, 2024
On With the Show
Saturday, December 30, 2023
2023 Year in Review
What a crazy year it was! At least I think so based on my review of numerous online compendia of the year's events, many of which I had forgotten happened. Sorry about that, Pope Benedict. You died during what must have been a pretty tumultuous time in my life, or I was streaming something particularly compelling, who knows. Anyway, here are some things I did remember!
President Trump Charged. And charged, and charged. I mean, innocent until proven guilty, am I right? Unless you're an African-American teen falsely accused of sexual assault that is.
Taylor Swift Eras Tour. I can't say I 100% get it but I'm not like actively opposed to it, either. We need something to keep white ladies off the streets.
Ukraine War. Yes, still a thing. I'm definitely not in favor of war. I'll take a strong stand for preferring people alive. And you can just copy and paste this trenchant commentary for Gaza.
Exploding SpaceX Rocket. So I take it that the whole exploding thing was not the intended result? Sorry for, you know, whoever.
Strikes! I support the working man. Even if that working man produced scripts for Two and a Half Men. Even if that working man is Tilda Swinton. I'm just supportive, generally. Kind of my thing.
King Charles. Whatever voodoo he used to get Well Known Attractive Man Dominic West cast as him for The Crown is impressive. But I'm sad no one asked me to read a poem at the coronation or anything.
That Submarine Thing. Yikes. Not even on my list of ways to go.
Barbenheimer. Why does everything have to be a thing? Like, two movies came out the same weekend, a thing that happens pretty much all the time. And there were costumes for it?
X. This thing kind of has Crystal Pepsi vibes, not going to lie.
Maui Wildfires. Terrible, terrible. And it's actually not helpful for you to post about how much you enjoyed your vacation in Hawaii.
Speaker of the House Mess. The only worse job I can think of is CEO of X.
Hot Takes on Famous People Dying. Shall we refrain?
Beyonce. I just wanted to mention her, honestly. She's welcome to come over and hang any time she wants. Ideally she'd bring Taco Bell.
Sunday, December 24, 2023
Merry Christmas to All...
I am seriously considering retiring from writing holiday greetings for several totally real and verifiable reasons. First, I would like to spend more time with Tom Brady’s family. He is clearly far too busy aping human emotions in those Hertz commercials, and I am an excellent role model for children, as long as you want them gay and mouthy. Second, if Hallmark movies are any indication, there are literally dozens of holiday traditions I’m missing out on, from threatening to close a lonely widow’s family ski lodge so a hedge fund can build a soulless corporate singles resort to trading places with my overworked twin sister so I can learn the true meaning of Epiphany and she can church kiss with an attorney-turned-handyman with great hair. Third, and most pressingly, I am running out of ideas. After several decades of drafting heartfelt but hardly Seventh Heaven-ready holiday messages, I sometimes struggle to find fresh sentiments to express. I am sure Hemingway felt the same way sometimes, until he remembered that he was drunk and racist and needed money.
But you are reading this message, or perhaps having it read to you by your loyal manservant Jacques, so clearly I have not retired. I soldier on because I love the holidays and I love all of you, and in some cases rely on you to not disclose the details of what happened after I drank that bottle of Aftershock and decided to roller blade to the Hard Rock Cafe. The holidays are when we all come together to festively decorate our Christmas trees, as though deforestation does not cost us biodiversity at a rate of 50,000 species each year, and share tasty delicacies that upon closer inspection contain many of the same chemical components as rat poison. They give us a break from our sometimes dark reality, although of course not from reality television, which is actively in production on no fewer than six series in which single mothers compete in a series of physical challenges and backstab each other over string cheese while attempting to win the heart of the Von Maur Santa Claus.
This holiday season caps another embarrassingly great year for the Schleppington household, which included trips to the U.S. Virgin Islands (beaches, driving on what is objectively the wrong side of the road), Berlin (national guilt, giant pretzels), and Prague (hourlong museum tour accidentally taken in Czech). We also spent a lot of time at home in Old Town, defiantly not killing one another despite innumerable visits from salt of the earth repairmen with surprising amounts of unsolicited life advice to provide. I continued working as a white collar criminal defense attorney at Dechert LLP, all the better for close-talking strangers at cocktail parties to ask me for advice about that one time they maybe submitted tons of falsified data to the FDA. Ian continued working from home, which sounds amazing but ends up with sort of a The Shining vibe. I wrote and performed another cabaret show, as part of my continued embrace of genres that Real America finds awkward and inexplicable, and released a book of sketch comedy, which coincidentally (hugely) you can purchase on Amazon via the links embedded below on this bog. Because cross-promotion is the real Reason for the Season. There’s a reason the Baby Jesus laid his head in a Farm & Fleet brand manger sponsored by Jennifer Garner for Huggies.
And just like that (minus Che Diaz), 2023 is coming to its close. It was a fantastic year for Taylor Swift, Barbie, and Beyonce, who thus far have resisted my calls to form a crime-fighting supergroup. The rest of us probably cannot claim to have reached similar heights, but there’s something to be said for just hanging in there. Here’s to doing our best to remain defiantly unretired in 2024!
Sunday, December 10, 2023
Comings and Goings
Ian was in Ireland for work this past week, which was obviously all about me. Yes, he had to endure flight delays and jet lag, but I had to take care of an intransigent little beagle by myself all week, not to mention having to hide from the cleaning lady. Oh, and the car wouldn't start, so I had to call for a jump all by myself and then patiently get lectured about how I should get better insulation in my garage and use premium gasoline. These, of course, are ordinary things that people do all the time without concern or complaint, but it's funny how we can get so used to having a spouse's help. I truly think the best marriages have some semblance of dog poop scooping parity.
This week it's my turn to head to Brooklyn for work for two days. Before anyone tries to convince me that Brooklyn is fun, keep in mind that I'll literally be doing work at the hotel the entire time. I guarantee that the LaGuardia food court will be the highlight of this trip. I had some chicken strips there a few trips ago that were absolute fire.
Saturday, December 02, 2023
Thanx
We had a strange but somewhat wonderful Thanksgiving holiday here at Schleppington Manor, as my sister and her family all got COVID and were unable to join us. Since so much of what we typically do revolves around the children, that was a bit of a change, but it turned out pretty well. With an adults only Thanksgiving, we were able to swear as much as we wanted and walk around topless, which of course we did not do. Basically, we went to our buffet luncheon and talked about the kids instead of talking to them. And the cornbread chorizo stuffing was absolute fire, as one would expect.
As is our usual practice, we watched both the Macy's parade and the sad Chicago parade as we decorated, which was cozy. I'm a huge fan of the random combinatorics that leads to things like a Jennie O Turkey float with Paula Abdul dancing like there literally might not be a tomorrow because her joints are killing her. On the Chicago side, it's more of a learning that things exist vibe, as traditional Lithuanian dancers and Ghostbusters enthusiasts debut on State Street. Fine background for discovering lights have burnt out after getting them on the tree and nitpicking the placement of ornaments.
I also took my mom to see Twelfth Night at Chicago Shakespeare, since she didn't get the excitement of the children this year. We enjoyed it immensely, particularly since they had pared it down to a tight two hours with intermission. There's almost nothing I enjoy so much I don't want it over quickly.
Saturday, November 25, 2023
Holiday Gift Guide
Just in time for Christmas, I've published a new book! This one is a collection of two decades worth of sketch comedy (and two songs!) that run the gamut from material developd through improvisation during that magical period in the early '00s when it briefly seemed Mischa Barton was going to make the transition to legitimate actress to pieces I wrote at a bed desk during the height of COVID. It also includes some very fine full-color public domain images and illustrations, since copyright theft is very wrong. You can purchase it for yourself or your loved ones (why not both?) on Amazon at the following link: Sketchy AF.
Of course, my prior work, some short personal essays about my clearly fascinating life is still available as well, if you are a real sadist: Pandemic Vanity Project. And just like that, all of your holiday shopping is done.
I'll donate any proceeds to charity, of course. I don't want to cheapen my incredible art by getting it tied up in commerce.