LOSER

LOSER

Last night was the first night of the new season of gay tennis league, and I was a big LOSER! I lost in singles, and I lost in doubles. I wish I wasn’t always so hard on myself when I lose, because I lose so often. It’s taxing. I’m like Andrew’s father in The Breakfast Club, berating myself in my head: “Jerry, you’ve got to be #1!” If I don’t win a match soon, I’m going to tape someone’s buns together. (Watch out, Drew.)

And it turns out, my doubles partner this season is going to be David, Rob’s ex-boyfriend. Rob is my tennis league friend, and he just broke up with David about two weeks ago and — well, it’s complicated, but trust me: it’s going to be awkward. David didn’t show up last night (he had a sub), so we don’t know if he dropped out because of the breakup or if he’s injured. Do you like hearing gossip about people you don’t know? Good. I’ve got tons.

One of the other assistants at my office just sent out an email saying she was swamped and asking if anyone could help her. I have NOTHING to do, but I didn’t respond to her because… well, I don’t wanna! Does that make me a bad person? Somebody else offered to help her. Well, I’m off the hook, I guess, but I’m still a jerk.

On Monday night, Drew and I went to see my new favorite band Ted Leo and the Pharmacists at the Troubadour. I’m sorry I just called them my new favorite band, because there’s no room to go up from there when I describe how big a fan the concert made me. Now that I’ve seen them live, they’re my super-favorite! Ted Leo is a great song-writer and guitar player and really cute and he spits and sweats a lot when he performs. Don’t let me gloss over that last part. He spits and sweats A LOT. Did I mention he’s cute? I don’t want to gloss over that either.

After the show, I wanted to buy Ted’s earlier CD “The Tyrrany of Distance”. All I have is his new one “Hearts of Oak”, which is awesome. I listen to it all the time. In fact, it’s easily my favorite album of the year. (See how much better it is when you hold off on the superlatives for a beat?) We heard a security guy say they were bringing the “Merch” down, so we waited and waited in the bar for the “merch” to arrive. It took a LOOOOOOOONG time, and by the time the “merch” got there, most people had left. The handful who stayed were the diehard fans, and they were asking about t-shirts and pins and stuff, but Ted’s label reps said that stuff was only available on the website.

I bought the CD for only $10, which made me happy until I wondered if Ted was making enough money on this whole endeavor. His CD is ranked 1,326 on Amazon.com, which surely doesn’t pay the bills. And the tickets to the concert were only $10 each. Given that there were probably about 250 people there and that he had a four-piece backup band, I doubt Ted makes a lot from touring either. (Hey, Ted, if you wanna save some cash, fire that woman who played the tambourine. She looked bored anyway.) I feel bad for Ted, who’s more talented than all those Linkin Bizkit/Sum 182 whatever bands but who probably eats Ramen noodles and stuff for dinner. Hey, Lookout Records, get your act together and bring some “merch” to the guy’s shows!

After I got my merch, Drew wanted me to go up and talk to Ted, who was hanging out with some of the fans near the stage. I just bought his CD, so I had an “in”, right? But I was too scared. Plus, as mentioned before, he was really sweaty. Maybe I was just afraid of the disillusionment I’d feel if I’d gotten close enough to smell the reek.

Drew and I both got kind of a gay vibe from Ted, so I did some googling the next day to test out our suspicions. It’s not easy to find public record of the sexuality of an obscure alternative rocker, but eventually I unearthed an old interview where he mentioned he was dating some woman from some other band. Oh, well. I have lousy gaydar. That’s why I’d be no good at Boy Meets Boy.

I’d be a loser at that, too.

COMMENTS

COMMENTS

Why, Jerry, Why is finally inching out of the stone age. Yes, as you may have noticed below, this blog is now comment-ready!

To add a comment, just click where it says “Comment” — more specifically, where it probably says “Comment (0)” — and write something. (Tip: If you click on that “?”, you can even add a couple of emoticons.) Right now I’m using Haloscan, which probably means nothing to most of you and which means only a little more to me, but I’m sure there’s a better comment macro, so I might change later on.

Okay, that meant even LESS to most of you.

But it’s a step forward.

Have something to say about any of this? (Bless you!) Well, comment!

JANICE

JANICE

I’m sorry you never made the blog, Janice, but here you go. You’re the title of this entry!

Unfortunately, the entry will not be about you. Sorry.

No, this entry will be about No Plans Weekend, which I’ve decided to posthumously dub Last-Minute or Vague Plans, With the Exception of the Concert Which We Planned Months Ago and Just Forgot About Weekend. Here’s how it went down…

On Friday night, we visited Drew’s friend Margaret. Her mother was in town and was leaving in the morning, so we dropped off some DVDs. (They watched Fried Green Tomatoes and Drew’s secret dub of Spellbound… Shhh!) After we left there, we headed for The Grove (side note: has anyone else noticed that those electronic “Spaces Available” signs in the parking garage are TOTALLY bogus? How stupid do you think we are, The Grove?) and had dinner at Madame Wu’s. (Try the Sizzling Black Pepper Chicken — yum! The best thing about Chinese food: leftovers. The worst thing: accidentally leaving your leftovers on the table when you walk out. Yes, I felt dumb.)

On Saturday morning, we decided to go out for breakfast, and for some reason, we decided to go to Los Feliz. After some chocolate chip pancakes (me) and French toast (Drew), we headed to Best Buy, where I bought the new album from The Caesars. (The verdict: Eh. Maybe I should take them off my recommendation list from last week. “Jerk It Out” is still a great song, though.)

After leaving one home entertainment store, we headed for another, Ameoba Records. This trip was noteworthy for two reasons: one, it was Drew’s first time at Amoeba, and two, Gwendolyn and the Good Time Gang were performing at noon. Gwendolyn sings a song called “Freedom of the Heart” that was featured prominently in the movie Chuck & Buck (You’d recognize it better from the chorus: “Oodily-oodily-oodily-oodily fun fun fun!!!” It has to be one of the top ten catchiest songs ever written.) When I first heard months ago that she’d be playing at Amoeba, I immediately planned to catch her show. Then I forgot all about it. But as Drew and I pulled up, the clock read 11:52 AM. We were about to see Gwendolyn without planning to go there. Win-win!

Gwendolyn seemed like a psycho.

Probably pushing 50 and with a distinct resemblance to Meredith Baxter(-Birney? I’m not sure about what surname Mrs. Keaton is using now), she was dressed in a brightly-colored little-girl skirt and pigtails, probably either in some disturbing state of arrested development or desperate to appeal to her young audience by duping them into thinking she was close to their age. After hearing a few songs about “Farm Animal Friends” and “The Selfish Shellfish” sung by Gwendolyn and her equally creepy backup band, Drew and I started browsing.

Drew bought an armload of DVDs, and I picked up a used copy of “Son of the Beach”. At one point, Gwendolyn played the opening notes of “Freedom of the Heart”, and Drew yelled “Jerry!!!” across the store to make sure I heard it. Yes, everyone at Amoeba, my boyfriend wanted to make sure I didn’t miss the performance of a song by Gwendolyn and the Good Time Gang. You got a problem with that????

Yes, I left the store with a copy of Gwendolyn’s CD, but only because Drew threatened to buy it for me if I didn’t buy it myself.

On Saturday night, Drew and I went out to dinner with Margaret and her husband Christian. We went to a steakhouse on Wilshire that I believe was called Porterhouse. I don’t want to say we were the youngest people there, but I do believe some of the other guests were present in the hospital when Bob Hope was born. (In memory of Mr. Hope, there’s a little Bob Hope-style humor for ya. Enjoy.) Margaret and Drew were terrified, which was hilarious. But for some reason, we stayed.

All the steaks were served on tilted dinner plates. When Drew asked why, the waiter explained it was something about the juices. (I still don’t get it.) A minute later, when the waiter came back with something else, Drew dared me to ask him the exact same question again. I chickened out, but later on, a different waiter came over, and I asked him about the tilted dinner plates, which might’ve been funny if I didn’t laugh in his face while he answered. I’m pretty sure the guy thought I was making fun of him, and I felt terrible. (Go ahead, hate me, but I gave him a big tip to make up for it.)

Tilted dinner plates weren’t the only thing that confused me about the restaurant. If you’re looking for a good steakhouse that also serves cotton candy, I recommend the Porterhouse. We happened to be there on a very crowded night. Half an hour after we got there, a waiter dropped a tray of plates just inside the kitchen. When we left after dinner, the mess still hadn’t been cleaned up. Waiters were just stepping over it on their way out to the dining room. (Apparently, one of the dropped plates contained some leftovers a man at the table next to ours had asked to have wrapped up. His wife grumbled that they should cook him a whole new steak to make up for it. I didn’t see how this was resolved.)

After dinner, Drew and I went home and watched “A Nightmare on Elm Street” on DVD (one of his Amoeba purchases). I had never seen it before, and it was better than I expected. We watched it in the dark, of course, and in the middle, we paused it so I could go to the bathroom (or “Visit Mr. T”, as I now say, in my neverending quest to coin new phrases). On my way back, I passed by the couch but didn’t see Drew. And that’s when he jumped out to scare me, and I SCREAMED LIKE A LITTLE GIRL. Yes, really. Picture me recoiling in fear, instinctively lifting my hands up to protect myself and squealing in terror. That’s how bad it looked, only worse than you can imagine.

It was absolutely hilarious.

Seriously, hats off to Drew, who had no idea how well his joke would work. But instead of gloating and mocking, as I no doubt would’ve, Drew felt bad and apologized profusely for freaking me out.

On Sunday night, we went to the Fountains of Wayne/Ben Lee concert (the tickets were a gift from Drew’s assistant, Bethany) at the House of Blues. Sadly, there were no Claire Danes sightings, but we did spot Jason Schwartzman, who later got up on stage and did a song with Ben. (Hey, Jason, get a haircut!) And we also spotted a certain personality formerly employed by a certain employer of a certain boyfriend of mine. And due to the potentially slanderous nature of what I’m about to say, I’ve decided to disguise the following bit of gossip as Why Jerry Why’s first blind item…

A former on-air personality for a certain music network was spotted at the House of Blues this weekend. This concertgoer, who once wanted to be a VJ and now probably does again, was spotting running up to the bar several times (being a runner-up is what he does best, apparently). He looked thin and fit in his track suit, which was surprising given that he was once as fat as ten mobile HOMES. He and Drew avoided each other all night, given an awkward history in which Drew rebuffed the now-buff music buff’s advances.

Ooh, I feel so dirty!

There was also a guy there who looked like Ashton Kutcher, but I think it was just because he was tall and thin and wearing a trucker hat.

The concert was good. We left during the encore because the band had already played all their good songs. (Might want to shuffle that set list, Fountains of Wayne.)

And then No Plans Weekend ended about as abruptly as this post.

POST-RECALL

POST-RECALL

Why won’t the Democrats field a candidate in case the Gray Davis recall goes through? Don’t they understand statistics?

The Republicans are likely to have several candidates in the running. There won’t be any primary voting (there isn’t time, for one thing), so any damn Republican who wants to, from Darrell Issa to Bill Simon to say, a certain foreign-born actor of diminishing box office clout, is going to toss his or her hat in the ring. What happens if you have five Republicans in a race and only one Democrat? It doesn’t take a California State Budget Accountant to figure that one out. Even amid a tide of anti-Democrat anger, the Democrat’s gonna pull that one out.

And there’s not going to be any runoff election. You don’t need a majority to take this race; a mere plurality will do. So Conan could get 15% and if Sheila Kuehl or Tom Hayden or whoever gets 16%, the Democrats stay in power.

But I think if there’s even a single Democrat on the ballot, the chances of the recall passing (and let me be clear — I’m AGAINST Gray Davis being recalled) will diminish. Why? Because a lot of people are lukewarm on Gray Davis. They may not want him recalled, but they don’t care enough to go to the polls to save him. What might get them to vote is if there’s a viable alternative on the ballot.

Republican alternatives will only get Republicans to come out to vote. If you have a whole spectrum of Republican candidates on the ballot, then anyone who supports ANY of those candidates is going to run to their polling place, vote for the recall, then hit the lever for their favorite right-winger.

Put a viable Democrat on the ballot, and that Democrat’s supporters will show up to vote. And once they’re there, they may vote against the recall before selecting they’re replacement candidate. Democrats want to seem unified and show their support for Gray Davis by staying out of the race. But I think that having a Democrat on the ballot will actually HELP Gray Davis. It’s the only way to get Democrats to the polls, and only Democrats are likely to vote against the recall.

The worst-case scenario here is that some really scary right-winger could enter the race. And if the moderate Republicans split the vote, we could have a complete fascist ruling our state, someone who was elected by only 15% of the popular vote.

There’s a simple way to avoid that, but first the Democrats need to do some math.

POSTIN’

POSTIN’

I’m in a postin’ mood, but I don’t know what to post! So I’m just going to do one of those random, rambling posts lots of other bloggers do. Let’s see how this works out.

As I logged into my account, I happened to click on one of those “Recently Published Blogs” on the Blogger start page, and now it’s my new favorite blog. Even though it’s brand new and has only two posts and I’m about 10,000% sure the author will get bored with it within a week or two and abandon it forever, I hope I’m wrong because it brought a big happy smile to my face. :D Tiffany, the day you stop blogging will be a poopy day — the poopiest day since the day Grampie got cancer! :( *tears*

Last night, my friends David and Rob came over to watch The Amazing Race, which Drew unfortunately had to miss beacause his friend had a miscarriage and he went over to console her. (I would’ve gone, too, but it was too late to cancel my plans.) So No Plans Weekend is officially shot, as, in addition to the Ben Lee concert, we now plan to spend a lot of time with Drew’s friend and her family. It would’ve been nice, but some things are more important. I guess life is what happens when you’re busy making no plans. (I just paraphrased someone famous. I’m not sure who.)

Anyway, back to last night… Rob had just broken up with his on-again, off-again boyfriend, so I was in consoling mode, too. When Drew got home, he probably thought he was done consoling, but instead the three of us talked some more. It seemed to cheer Rob up a little. (Ah, patting myself on the back always feels nice…) Given that Rob and his boyfriend seem like they both still have feelings for each other, and that they’re both in my tennis league and will thus see each other every week, I predict they’ll be back together within a month. (Mental note: if Rob ever finds out about this blog, delete this post.)

My boss just went with a couple of the other attorneys to a certain famous Los Angeles hot dog stand — eh, screw it. I’m sick of talking about that guy. The point of the story was: he’s a loser.

Drew bought me Wario World, and I can’t wait to play it. Is this weird? How come everyone else is playing Resident Evil and Grand Theft Auto and that junk, and the only video games I’m interested in were made for 12-year-olds? Maybe I’m just. That. Cool.

Aren’t telemarketers supposed to shut up when you tell them you’re not interested and you ask to be taken off their calling list? Well, that one last night sure didn’t! Go to hell, you! Click!

Here’s something Drew would probably kill me for mentioning, but it’s just too goofy to let it go. He gets out of his therapy on Friday mornings (no that’s not the part he’d kill me for) around the same time I’m driving to work, and the last two weeks he’s called me on my celph when therapy ended. So we’re talking and driving, and we both mention where we are in traffic and then we manage to coordinate it so he drives right past me and we wave to each other while we’re talking. (“Look! There you are! I see you!” — like we didn’t just see each other an hour and a half ago.) It’s hilarious… and incredibly cornball. That deserves to be a scene in a bad romantic comedy. Only in the movie, they’ll crash.

Do you like how I make up words? Like “celph” in the last paragraph. (Maybe I’ve already gone over this… forgive me.) I’m obsessed with introducing a term or catch phrase into the popular slang. Celph is only one of my many feeble attempts. As you may have figured out, it’s a contraction of the words “cell phone”, and what’s cool about it isn’t that it saves you any time — you could just as easily say “cell” as most people do — but that it lends itself to lots of clever puns. To wit: “Hey, get off the phone! You’re so celph-involved!” “I hate my crappy Sony Ericsson piece of crap. I’m celph-depricating!” “My phone is perfectly adequate. It’s celph-sufficient.” Try it at home, kids!

I have lots of others, too, from “Make sense!” (translation: “You’re crazy!”) to “Start over!” (translation: “I’m so excited by that news, I want to hear it again!”) to “Koo koo k’you!” (translation: “You’re really crazy!”)

Well, that’s as good a place as any to end this rambling post. Thanks for reading it all the way to the end. And if you really liked it…

Start over!