tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42459404870916320292024-03-12T17:27:20.104-07:00How I Sawz Itmjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-41957639900641310852017-12-24T07:56:00.000-08:002017-12-24T09:53:52.655-08:00Farewell, Teach! The Passing of Mike Goggans!<div style="text-align: center;">
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I knew I was going to be a theatrical producer after college. My whole theatrical career was a matter of waiting for the stars to align. My first attempt at wasting time and money for a funny, funny show was a revue called Once Upon Vaudeville. I conceived the show, found the right theater, called in favors and then it all came down to the casting. After all the previous legwork, how hard could that be?<br />
As I whittled the script into some working shape ( a series of old vaudeville routines and stolen Warner Bros cartoon sketches), I would try them out on my downstairs neighbor extraordinaire Benton Jennings. We added more silliness, pasted on nonsensical diatribes and threw out things that didn't make us laugh the 20th time we re-read them. The process.<br />
Benton was a very accomplished stage actor (now film and television star) when I was cutting teeth. He sidelined as a Cowboy (stuntman) at Six Flags doing Cowboy shoot em up shows throughout the day. Benton worked with a group who would all become lifelong friends. Two in particular, Chris Whatley and Mike Goggans decided to take the show on the road and become their own act, The Gunfighters. They performed at corporate functions in addition to rodeos, shopping mall openings, fairs and stockyards. After years of working together, their sketches and routines were funny and tight.<br />
I decided to scoop Mike Goggans out of the Gunfighters (on break) to perform with Benton, myself and a zany crew of young current and post college talent in the Vaudeville show. I knew Goggans through contact with Benton. He was a tall, lean, easy going Texan with the spirit and looks of the old West, but an addiction to the Three Stooges. He knew silly comedy. Dry wit and slapstick. I knew he drank a little... what could go wrong?<br />
{Side note story: An Indian girl finds a rattlesnake almost frozen to death on an iced over lake. She takes it home. She nurses it to health, day after day. One day, she comes home and he bites her. As the poison courses through her small frame body... and she lay dying, she meekly asks... "After saving your life... why would you bite me?"<br />
His reply? "You knew I was a rattlesnake, B****!"}<br />
Goggans was a fine and funny stage performer with the Gunfighters, but also performed in a variety of other roles in area stage shows. Usually, a western character or a zany old man. In Vaudeville, I cast him as the German school teacher in a Little Rascals spoof, a lawyer in the court routine and lots of quick joke fillers that were sprinkled through the show. Not much of a workload, but loads of fun and audience laffs. But..be careful what you ask for!<br />
We opened Once Upon Vaudeville at the Circle Theatre in Ft Worth in May of 1982. A small but lively cast worked their collective ass off to get the dance steps, songs, jokes and timing down. Goggans? Not so much. "I'll get there! I'll get there!" Now... the Circle Theater served alcohol and what I found out late in the rehearsal process was the Goggans was stealing from the beer cooler every night... every rehearsal. Ouch. As the rest of the cast had become tight, razor sharp and quick witted (even the chorus girls were throwing zingers), Goggans had fallen behind. He didn't know his lines. He was disruptive. He was a nuisance. It was coming to an impasse.<br />
The owner of the theater was the one who caught Goggans stealing one night. This was my out. I could fire him on the spot. And so I did. Privately, to a drunk and humiliated friend. You know the adage 'this is going to hurt me more than it will you'? Well.. it didn't hurt that much... until the next day when a sober and contrite Goggans showed up at my door. He apologized (much as a friend or family member would) and asked if he could keep the role that I had tailor made for him in the first place.<br />
I knew I was going to have to go through Benton on this. Benton had worked with Goggans for years. Could he turn this around? Benton turned the decision back to me. It was a hot show. I don't think even he trusted his friend at that time.<br />
Goggans went sober. He was a smash in the show. And the cast hated him because as he received accolades for his work in the show... he was doling out his own advice to the cast on comedy, timing and performance. I had to run interference a few times when they wanted to take a swing at him... and those were the chorus girls.<br />
Fittingly, during our final performance (now at a dinner theater across town) Goggans had come up missing. I headed straight to the bar area where they stored all their beer. Instead of finding him drinking, he was making a pie out of shaving cream. He planned on hitting me with the pie on stage during the curtain call. I told him I'd play dumb and go with it. And I did. Curtain call. Smash to the face with a MENTHOLATED Shaving Cream pie. I was blinded for some time after that gag. but... what could I say... I knew he was a rattlesnake, B****!<br />
I lost touch with Mike Goggans after I moved from D/FW. I called a few times. Followed him mostly on theatrical notices from the Hip Pocket Theater. Goggans was Goggans. Benton and Goggans were like older brothers to me when we were all together. I knew his passing would be sooner than later. I will never be able look back at that period of my life in Texas without thinking of him fondly. One true blue Texan... and stooge fan! My coarse acting brother from another mother!
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-27909830224824386802017-09-04T13:24:00.000-07:002017-12-24T08:52:26.940-08:00New Movie Pitch<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2jtK5zCHBu8/Wa22TclmBMI/AAAAAAAACzA/Lh8HKMjFVXgf1lF_vkS2bi5Rm0zSMoPfACLcBGAs/s1600/maxresdefault.jpg.cf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="399" data-original-width="711" height="179" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2jtK5zCHBu8/Wa22TclmBMI/AAAAAAAACzA/Lh8HKMjFVXgf1lF_vkS2bi5Rm0zSMoPfACLcBGAs/s320/maxresdefault.jpg.cf.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
New Movie Pitch:<br />
Hot tempered US President tied to Russia by large undisclosed personal bank loans (previous bankruptcies have negated any more US borrowing power) angers psychotic North Korean leader who has been developing a weapon of mass destruction that can be launched at Yellowstone National Park and trigger a volcanic explosion that would devastate most of North America. The Russians, angered by the closing of their consulates throughout US, refuse to come to America's aid and secretly support the North Korean effort...and China watches it all from the sidelines... ready to swoop in and peck through the carcus of this 'once great' nation like a crow. Cut to final scene... By the banks of a swelling creek.. Close up of a Confederate statue (obviously affected by the nucular(sp) maelstrom) Samuel L. Jackson remarks to Channing Tatum "We should have built a bigger m***** f**** wall!!" <br />
Yikes. Thank goodness it's just a movie. Whew.
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-9579451039109412302017-06-11T03:48:00.001-07:002017-06-11T03:48:00.484-07:00The Test of That Girl<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-v7Z-xgo7KM" width="480"></iframe>mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-58263846060139152192017-06-02T18:33:00.000-07:002017-06-02T22:06:25.063-07:00We Will Always Have Paris... well maybe not!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eSfa94ZSftc/WTIRbATjEbI/AAAAAAAACNw/WxnashuJufUdWtE5s802Me97Xjy0VZkmgCLcB/s1600/gwd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="452" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eSfa94ZSftc/WTIRbATjEbI/AAAAAAAACNw/WxnashuJufUdWtE5s802Me97Xjy0VZkmgCLcB/s320/gwd.jpg" width="251" /></a></div>
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The US has backed out of the Paris Accord. Yay! No one tells the biggest & baddest, #1 resource consuming country in the world what to do. The accord was a democrat accord.. and the savvy new republican old guard is able to see right through this global warming sham and can lead the way in de-regulating every polluting industrial plant and corporation on this planet. If you can make money out of a smokestack or car emission, then make it! America has crap to sell. The American people doesn’t just give money away and pretend to stop what has only been perceived as a hiccup in this planet's lifespan!</div>
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End that Paris Accord! </div>
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Git-R-Done!</div>
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Alas... unlike Larry the Cable Guy... who in fact is neither a cable guy or a guy named Larry (he's Dan Whitney, a Midwest born actor/comedian... who created the cash cow persona of a good ol’ beer swillin' NRA supportin' rednecker.. but hey... Pee Wee Herman was actually a guy named Paul Reubens... and for awhile he got tired of his act, too.)... Global warming is real. We pollute. We emit. We poison. But if change is going to take away from the American Way of Life and creature comfort, we want none of it! Or so we have been manipulated.</div>
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Side note: Solar energy is not only here, but it is going to be very inexpensive. But leading the way in cheap solar energy cells and technology are China and India. US dropped the ball... trying to protect Big Oil, fracking, Natural gas... and Coal! {We still have coal miners, Loretta!} So the US losing the solar energy market can only mean one thing... the government must raise tariffs so no one can easily change over to cost saving, affordable solar or alternative energy. But I digress.</div>
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Global warming 101</div>
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1. Put an ice cube under a desk lamp.</div>
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2. Watch condensation come off the ice cube as it melts.</div>
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3. Ice cube melts water onto the desk.</div>
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4. Ice cube gone.. desk dries.</div>
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(Note: As polar caps melt, weather gets weird.. not just hot... see step #2 above)</div>
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This is second grade science.</div>
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Pretending it isn’t happening because of some political agenda or gain is a head scratcher. </div>
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Our CO2 emisions on this planet have been steadily rising. Scientific fact. No need for a multi million dollar study... that the powers that be will never read anyway. So! There is only one answer!</div>
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THE ANSWER</div>
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No need for a Paris Accord.</div>
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There are 7 billion+ people on this planet. </div>
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6.9 billion of you people are going to have to go. What? Yes! Die!</div>
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Sorry! It’s for the good of the planet and mankind. </div>
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Who goes? Let’s see...</div>
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Everyone over 35... sorry! You gotta go.</div>
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Anyone who is crippled, disabled or impaired.</div>
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Anyone who can not live off the land. Sorry! You gotta go!</div>
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There will need to be more women than men left to re-populate.</div>
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No Bankers or Lawyers, CPAs or stock brokers need apply.</div>
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No elected official. Yes, doctors allowed. No plastic surgeons.</div>
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Engineers, yes!</div>
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Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts may apply, barring any fricking cookie salespeople!</div>
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A few teachers, a few scientists. No rap star wives ...or celebrities at all.</div>
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</div>
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You see...the world, this living, breathing planet will right itself almost immediately after </div>
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we turn off the garbage disposal we know as modern (overcrowded) human civilization.</div>
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<br />
But look! We can’t just kill off a large population of the world on a whim and a hope. There would have to be another world war. (Or an asteroid... but probably a man made war.) We would need a maniacal leader... and a thin skinned provocation or ruse. (After creating a business or two as a military supplier and shorting the Market, of course)... then... BOOM!<br />
But hey! Who would start it? No one is angry with the great old US of A! Right?</div>
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-31644384238831099512017-04-19T19:38:00.001-07:002017-04-19T19:38:04.079-07:00Creative Talent Workshop: Pilot Week<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-xSyy0eev6Q" width="480"></iframe>mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-877586061545948182016-09-01T01:27:00.000-07:002016-09-01T01:31:27.323-07:00Stick it to the Fickle Woman<div style="text-align: center;">
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mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-36962924040203430882016-09-01T01:23:00.000-07:002016-09-06T02:55:41.960-07:00Stick it to Colin Kaeperdick<div style="text-align: center;">
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mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-46880780080434889142016-09-01T01:12:00.001-07:002016-09-01T01:21:42.677-07:00Stick it to Super Hero Movies<div style="text-align: center;">
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mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-47920928678158372992016-08-02T06:21:00.001-07:002016-09-01T01:18:43.720-07:00Late Night Feature: Ghostbusters 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9w--zoVJH-0/V6CeMVDIa_I/AAAAAAAABRY/oQKJvVun60QxKvLOly1C9Zij5Gkr4_K_gCLcB/s1600/gb2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9w--zoVJH-0/V6CeMVDIa_I/AAAAAAAABRY/oQKJvVun60QxKvLOly1C9Zij5Gkr4_K_gCLcB/s1600/gb2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Ghostbusters 2016<br />
I have tried to watch this 3 times and it hasn't clicked yet! The same happened with 007 Skyfall and The Big Lebowski, but I probably will not finally give in to this one.</div>
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Here we go...4 fine comediennes are cast in this reboot, buddy film...
but they aren't given anything to work with that would fit their
strengths. Melissa McCarthy isn't cussing, Leslie Jones is playing a
softer Leslie Jones, Kristen Wiig mopes through it and Kate McKi<span class="text_exposed_show">nnon
seems to be just brushed off as 'the science weirdo'. Unfunny Chris
'Thor' Hemsworth is just that... unfunny. They all try to bond, but I'm
not sure if any of these actresses even like one another or trust this
film to propel their burgeoning careers.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="text_exposed_show">Look! I had problems with the
original Ghostbusters. Bill Murray mugged all through it and probably
ad-libbed the funnier memorable lines. Alas... nothing memorable in this
one. You don't believe they know the science... or the paranormal...
other than maybe reading a World Weekly News (Batboy edition). At
least, Dan Ackroyd (Producer of this slick CGI mess) and Harold Ramis
could spout science nonsense and seem somewhat in character in the
original. Why bring up the original? They seem to have stolen from it
liberally to make this one. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="text_exposed_show">Not a fan of this film and I don't predict a
sequel. But can Hollywood come up with something original and one for 4 comediennes?</span></div>
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mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-91886574188760875222016-07-18T11:55:00.001-07:002016-08-02T05:10:11.915-07:00The Relationship between the Actor and the Agent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-abEnNBpSfJc/V40o66GJumI/AAAAAAAAAsM/WekxWA59Zpg3lV4wYdFnlojSsaabUMreQCLcB/s1600/agent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-abEnNBpSfJc/V40o66GJumI/AAAAAAAAAsM/WekxWA59Zpg3lV4wYdFnlojSsaabUMreQCLcB/s320/agent.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
To understand the relationship between an actor and his talent agent, I
have decided to explain by dissecting an infamous joke. As you read, you
will understand that there is truth behind all humor, but it is the
lack of truth which provides the humor. <br />
~ An actor comes home and finds his home ransacked...<br />
[First
let it be known, actors do not own houses. Mortgage companies rarely
see acting as a profession worthy of an investment risk. And since most
actors are on the go, and rarely have time to clean up the clothes,
costumes, bags or make-up strewn about their living space, how would
this actor know if his home had been ransacked at all?]<br />
~ He find his wife and kids are tied up...<br />
[An
actor has a wife and kids? Maybe she showed up to drop off the kids for
a visitation. Marriage and actors rarely mix. And if this actor was
married with kids, she would have a job. And if she was working to
support his career, she would show animosity and make him quit. Thus it
would be a two income home and they could possibly afford a better
security system.]<br />
~The actor removes the duct tape covering his wife's mouth...<br />
[Need
I ask why any man in his right mind would go to the wife first? She will
give him an earful in due time. So he should have untied the kids, fed
them and got them to bed first. Then he could take all the coming verbal
onslaught that he was due and the kids would not be crying and hungry.]<br />
~She tells him that his agent came to the house and did all this...<br />
[As
you can see the set up is leading to a very simple punchline. So let's
sidetrack here and talk about gas prices. I believe gas should cost
$1.18 at the pump. There is no reason that it should not. Gas prices are
based on what a handful of oil speculators believe that prices will be like
in the near future. Well I say, what if in the future a voice (from the
great beyond) sounds off and tells us specifically how to harness
nuclear fusion? And what if the cost of energy becomes just pennies on the
dollar and we could sue the big oil and gas companies for gouging
consumers? Well, we would probably have to be taxed by the government to
cover a larger defense budget used to protect us against countries that
can now move, work and grow without our control. {Yes! Energy is a
control issue!} Well? Then the whole point of gas and future prices
would be mute. Now...back to the joke.<br />
~PUNCHLINE: Actor says, "My agent came to the house?"<br />
[Agents
do not come to the house! They do not care, coddle or Jerry McGuire any
of their clients unless that client has the potential of making them a mountain of money. Agents would not drive to an actor's house, they wouldn't know
the address. If they did, actors would be paid quicker since the checks
would be mailed to the right place. Agents would be too drunk to tie a
good sturdy knot. Agents fear spouses because they already plot to
destroy the agent's money maker's career. So this could not take place.
Making it more a fantasy, then a joke based on any reality.]<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-51356467655547982472016-07-07T05:14:00.000-07:002016-08-02T05:10:27.569-07:00One Minute Theater: Politics Make Strange Bedfellows & Jonny Quest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wbJaHcoAIVw/V349ojVfW-I/AAAAAAAAAnk/-jE12gOAEbMFZ-2UrCwqAig3FEnw_SSAgCLcB/s1600/rb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wbJaHcoAIVw/V349ojVfW-I/AAAAAAAAAnk/-jE12gOAEbMFZ-2UrCwqAig3FEnw_SSAgCLcB/s1600/rb.jpg" /></a></div>
<i>The following is a ficticional account of the meeting between the GOP delegate leader and a certain Midwestern Governor (not unknown for his own political controversies). Meeting takes place in Governor's Mansion:</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1qqZL2Kcnj4/V37aYK--g4I/AAAAAAAAAoc/JuQEY5Dfsv8ctcNdD4SpmuoQF4GypHNfACLcB/s1600/tpen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1qqZL2Kcnj4/V37aYK--g4I/AAAAAAAAAoc/JuQEY5Dfsv8ctcNdD4SpmuoQF4GypHNfACLcB/s320/tpen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
Drumpf: I guess the song was wrong...<br />
Gov: What song is that?<br />
Drumpf: "God didn't make those little green apples..."<br />
Gov: I don't follow...<br />
Drumpf: "Rain in Indianapolis..."<br />
Gov: Yes! We have had quite a lot of rain this year...<br />
Drumpf: Who sang that?<br />
Gov: Rain? Er.. Prince?<br />
Drumpf: This is going to haunt me all day!<br />
Gov: Well.. I'm certainly honored that you could take time out of your busy schedule to come for a visit to the Hoosier State!<br />
Drumpf: What the heck is that..<br />
Gov: A Hoosier? Lots of people ask that.. and there are quite a few answers...<br />
Drumpf: No! What the heck is the name of the guy who sang 'Little Green Apples"? Come on.. you know the song! It must be the State song or something.<br />
Gov: No I believe that would be Back Home Again in Indiana?<br />
Drumpf: That's weird! Why would your state song be about leaving... then coming back home? Letterman never moved back here...<br />
Gov: So I hear you are on a bit of a time crunch...<br />
Drumpf: It'll come to me... anywhooo.. where do you keep your cool plane? You still have it, right?<br />
Gov: Plane? I have access to a jet. Yes!<br />
Drumpf: No! The one you used to fly the Doctor and the kids around the world in! Bet you could hit Warp 3 or Mach 2 in that bad boy!<br />
Gov: The Doctor?<br />
Drumpf: Are you still practicing those Judo moves?<br />
Gov: Excuse me! (To Lt. Governor) Do you know who he is referring to?<br />
Lt. Gov: I believe he has you confused with Race Bannon...<br />
Gov: ?<br />
Lt Gov: Body guard and pilot from Jonny Quest!<br />
Gov: ?<br />
Drumpf: That's the guy!!!<br />
Lt Gov: He's a character from a Saturday morning cartoon. Play along!<br />
Drumpf: Roger...<br />
Gov: ...Over and out!<br />
Drumpf: Roger Miller sang the song!<br />
Gov: Jonny Quest?<br />
Drumpf: God Didn't Make Those Little Green Apples... and It don't Rain in Indianapolis in the Summertime.<br />
Gov: Ah.. yes! THAT song!!!?!<br />
Drumpf: Let's get down to brass tacks. If I offer you the Veep... will you teach all my kids judo?<br />
Gov: I'm sure there are some fine Judo coaches we can look into...<br />
Drumpf: You're right! There won't be enough time between flying the jet and fighting off the gargoyles!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Da27AgW26yA/V35FJaSnUqI/AAAAAAAAAn8/ZNzBSET9pJcIhFoGJ6MdR13-nXYlScUyACLcB/s1600/rb2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="87" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Da27AgW26yA/V35FJaSnUqI/AAAAAAAAAn8/ZNzBSET9pJcIhFoGJ6MdR13-nXYlScUyACLcB/s320/rb2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Gov: Gargoyles...?<br />
Lt. Gov: Go with it, Sir!<br />
Gov: Mr. Drumpf.. I'm your Man... pilot...er.. judo guy!<br />
Drumpf: Not so fast... I haven't offered anything yet!<br />
Gov: I haven't accepted anything yet!<br />
Drumpf: Oh! Is that how it's going to be?<br />
Gov: If you think it is.. or isn't!<br />
Drumpf: We'll discuss this more after I meet Bandit?<br />
Gov: ?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XHNeUtZk-iw/V35GT_ygNmI/AAAAAAAAAoE/-MPa7oZeHQ4AtGXiM03OyuUmboHNFgXGwCLcB/s1600/rb3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XHNeUtZk-iw/V35GT_ygNmI/AAAAAAAAAoE/-MPa7oZeHQ4AtGXiM03OyuUmboHNFgXGwCLcB/s1600/rb3.jpg" /></a></div>
Finis<br />
<br />
(Note: A parody! We would like to acknowledge our great respect for Hanna/Barbera and Jonny Quest.. who made this all possible... oh.. and Roger Miller: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QynRpLfS3v0" target="_blank">God Didn't Make Those Little Green Apples</a><br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-55931064522533358482016-07-02T12:24:00.000-07:002017-12-24T08:52:06.935-08:00The Cubs, The Deer..and I'm (almost) Out of Here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dnskhRdWAck/V3gbIoSy_WI/AAAAAAAAAmM/oJU3hD6W08YwQJGBfPO4c_RokYNJ_u15wCLcB/s1600/296.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dnskhRdWAck/V3gbIoSy_WI/AAAAAAAAAmM/oJU3hD6W08YwQJGBfPO4c_RokYNJ_u15wCLcB/s320/296.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"> The year was 1995. I was working for our family
tool and die company in Richmond, Indiana. I kept a townhouse
there and an apartment in Indy. I was not rich, I was lucky. The
townhouse was in the family and I just happened to need a place
to crash in Richmond during the week so I got to use it. In fact,
the house was bare with only a few essentials... dining room
table and chairs, bed, dressers and kitchen plates, pots and
pans. No TV, but a piano. Minimal, but livable. <br /> My girlfriend
lived in Indy not too far from my apartment on the North side. She
worked 2 part time jobs (and 1 non-paying full time). She was
trying to start a career as a financial advisor. It was going
slow. Too slow.<br /> She was 13 years younger and our
relationship ran both hot and cold. I was hot for
her and she, in turn, would give me the cold shoulder. But I adored her all the same and kept
up the chase. <br /> While working as operations manager and purchasing
agent for the tool company, I had become friends with quite a few
of our vendors, one in particular. A young lady from Western (upstate)
NY. She sold paper products out of Amherst, NY. not too far from
where my father's side of the family lived. Now... this was all way
before Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram, Skype and even smart phones. We would talk via her company's 1-800 number or
after 11 o'clock when the long distance rates were cheapest. Hey
Kids... have we progressed? I would say... but I digress!<br /> This is
actually the story of a baseball game... in a town known to party like mad
on Opening Day. In 1995, the Cincinnati Reds Home Opener was against the
Chicago Cubs... my two favorite teams! </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lv2gOaTTs_E/V3gxbenzVMI/AAAAAAAAAmk/0cGZJQfZ5fUt7TNEE0ye7_oMieFmQQJQQCLcB/s1600/mikeyredcub.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lv2gOaTTs_E/V3gxbenzVMI/AAAAAAAAAmk/0cGZJQfZ5fUt7TNEE0ye7_oMieFmQQJQQCLcB/s320/mikeyredcub.jpg" width="288" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"> My buddy Timmy talked me
into meeting up with him and a mutual buddy in Cincy for this
opening day match up. The plan was simple... hit the bars... go to the game... hit the bars
again. Well, seemed simple. Proved dangerous. <br /> I drove down a bit early
and found parking. Waited about an hour for them to catch up with
me at our first rendezvous. Timmy, Matt and I all have the gift
of gab ... so even as Cubs fans... it was easy to make new friends
everywhere we went in downtown Cincy, right before the
Reds Opening Game of the season. Walking from bar to bar and later heading to the stadium... we got phone numbers (we would never use) and details about
the best places to hit up after the game. Home town fans all in good
cheer! <br /> At Riverfront, our seats ended up being behind the
Cubs dugout on the third base side. Our Cubs admiration was not
lost on some of the die hard Reds fans in the area and we took
some well deserved ribbing... but we gave back as much as we took... as I
remember. It's baseball... not some NFL Raiders/Chargers game where
knives and guns decide who is the best and the baddest fans.<br /> Now the year before in 1994, MLB
had a strike. It was so bad... they cancelled THE WORLD SERIES!
No one cancels the World Series.. well.. maybe a world war. But
not players... or team owners... but alas... baseball descended
down the rabbit hole. The big question was whether the fans would
come back to the ballpark? They did. It was a full house as I
remember. But I also remember that around the fifth inning (or so)...
a majority of fans pulled out toilet paper rolls and tossed them
onto the field en masse. It was awesome! Prepared before hand.
Quietly kept under wraps.. and pulled off beautifully. <i><br />Dear
Players and Owners: <br />You wanna cry? <br />Here! Wipe your ^#$# tears!<br /> ~
Signed <br />The Fans of MLB </i><br /> The Game ended and we headed to the bars
downtown. Every place we were directed to before the game turned
out to be a hot spot. Pretty girls, cheap drinks, music and more.
We partied for about 3 more hours before we all decided to turn
tail and run back to Indiana. I was popped, but had started to
repair with water and coffee. <br /> Driving alone, I headed back to
Richmond through Brookville Indiana. Small town Brookville is
featured in my classic <a href="https://www.amazon.com/River-Days-Coming-Tale-Middle-ebook/dp/B003YH9IPE" target="_blank">River Days: A Coming of Age Tale... MiddleAge.</a> Available on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/River-Days-Coming-Tale-Middle-ebook/dp/B003YH9IPE" target="_blank">Amazon... Buy it! </a><br /> All well in Brookville,
driving past all the usual landmarks, stops, hangouts and river.
Now... just head up the 101 toward Richmond. 30 minutes, at most!
<br /> I used to play tennis with Kelly Kelly, a beautiful young lady
who I had met in the Brookville area during a past canoe
adventure. The tennis courts we played on were just on the north side of town. As I passed them, I remember smirking a bit. I
did not realize danger was just past the next curve. <br /> On a hill, on the
east side of the highway was a 6-8 point buck. He looked down at
me in my Nissan Sentra... made eye contact... then lowered his
head and charged at the car! WTF??? It all went into slow motion,
even as fast as the incident happened in real time. He hit the passenger door.
Flew above the windshield, tapping it with a hoof or two... like
<i>F^%( ing Rudolph the Red Nosed (flying) Reindeer</i>... and landed on
the other side of the highway. Amazingly, I was still in control of the fast
moving vehicle... Wait! No... I wasn't! The car made two complete
spins on its own. (Praise the Lord! No traffic, either way.)
Finally landing tail end first into a rocky ravine off the shoulder
of the road. <br /> Now people say when you are having a near death
experience, you will see your entire life pass before your eyes. I will confess
this... I remember seeing life events up to and including
the combination to the locker I used during my sophomore year in high
school (12... 27... 34) 20 years prior.<br /> The deer got up... stumbled a bit.. and
then ran off peeing blood. It sprinted away as best it could. I was
trapped in the car by a seat belt that wouldn't unbuckle (but
probably saved my life!) <br /> The first person to stop and make contact was some woman
who claimed to work for the highway patrol... and she'd go get a
cop! Yikes! Day just got better! Not! <br /> The second vehicle was a
pick up truck with two good old boys asking if I wanted the
deer. "No! Kill it.. and the rest of his whole family!"
They parked the truck on the opposite shoulder, took out a couple rifles (support the NRA) and lit out on
foot after Bambi's Dad! <br /> What followed was a long line of gawkers and rubberneckers. The last being the driver of a truck cab who stopped, got out and actually
walked down the ravine to check on my situation in the car. <i><br /> "You bleeding?"
..."You hurt?" ..."You have any chains to pull
yourself out?"</i> <br /> " No... don't think so!" ...
"Just my pride!"... "Chains? What?" <br /> Well... Mr. Trucker could instantly tell that I was in no shape to get out
of that ravine by myself... or to be driving at all, for that
matter... (<i>"How many beers you been drinking?"</i>) So, he
went back to his truck, opened a side compartment and pulled out his own set of chains. Placed them under my car...
and dragged me out. <br /> <i>"Now listen! I live up the hill.. the
house with the blue and red reflectors at the end of the driveway.
I want you to go to my driveway and stay there until you pull yourself
together!" </i><br /> "Yes, Sir!" <br /> And I did. I found the
driveway. Pulled off far from the road and waited a good 30 - 40
minutes to clear my head and think about what all had happened! As I sat on his property assessing life and death, I watched a parade of highway patrol cars racing back and forth, up and down
Highway 101 looking for the 'mysterious, vanishing deer clobbering' vehicle. <br /> I made it to Richmond by sun down. Stopped at Mom's house to
report what had happened... she seemed genuinely concerned. I
then headed straight to the Townhouse. <br /> First call was to my Indy
girlfriend. I told her about how I was hit by a deer and now felt
lightheaded from the experience. She told me that it was her
night off and she was heading downtown to go dancing with some friends. <i>"Just... take it easy... take some Tylenol. You'll
be fine! Look.. I gotta go!"</i> <br /> Second call was to Miss Amherst
NY. I told her the whole story... beers, bars and all... Her
reply? <i>"You get to the emergency room and get checked out
now! Don't lay down... don't go to sleep!"</i> (I told her I was
tired and wanted a nap!) <i>"I am going to call back in one
hour! If you do not answer the phone.. I will call an ambulance
and the police to break down your door! Do you hear me..."
</i><br /> Guess which one I married? <br /><br /> Now, what exactly did I learn from the flying deer
adventure? Life is fragile, but extremely livable! And be sure... to count your
blessings everyday... especially when you are prone to make a bad decision or two. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;">Go Cubs!</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Finis</i><br />
<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-70555480017031877232016-06-29T23:59:00.002-07:002016-08-02T05:10:57.278-07:00One Minute Theater: My (Next) Wife... Female Astronaut!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gksfGHebtvU/V3S4IinaNTI/AAAAAAAAAlg/tOSZsC0E8QMMCslxl6wpeG6vnXQfKPrTACLcB/s1600/femastro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gksfGHebtvU/V3S4IinaNTI/AAAAAAAAAlg/tOSZsC0E8QMMCslxl6wpeG6vnXQfKPrTACLcB/s320/femastro.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This edition of One Minute Theater is dedicated to the most daring, courageous, heroic and glorious woman on this planet... and beyond! The Female Astronaut!<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>(Dinner party at a hoity toity home in an upper crust neighborhood... probably Carmel, Indiana.)</i><br />
Chip<i>: ...</i> Well... no one goes to Cabo anymore. It's completely overrun with college kids and middle class divorcees maxing out their Mastercards.<br />
Buffy: Oh, Chip! Too too funny!<br />
Chip: I know... right?<br />
Gavin: If I ever divorced Bunny... I'm pretty sure she would sell all of our things and move aboard a cruise ship to live the rest of her life!<br />
Bunny: You know me too well, Gavin!<br />
Me: Hello! Great party! Thank you for inviting us!<br />
Chip: I'm afraid we haven't met... I'm Chip and this my wife Buffy!<br />
Me: Yes! I met Buffy at a fundraiser last Christmas...<br />
Buffy: Really? Which one? Toys for Extraordinary Orphans? Mothers Against Impaired Holiday Imbibers? Bell Ringers for Berlitz?<br />
Chip: Buffy is always so active with her committees.<br />
Buffy: They are like a job! Like a REAL job, I must tell you! And I worked for two whole years after college. I know!<br />
Gavin: Hello! I'm Dr. Gavin Norstrumeier.. ear nose and throat!<br />
Me: A pleasure!<br />
Gavin: And my wife, Bunny! Her real name is Magdeline, but we all find that to be too Holy Landish so we all call her Bunny!<br />
Bunny: Yep! Bunny! <br />
Others: Bunny!<br />
Bunny: Yep... Bunny... like a cute... little Bunny!<br />
Me: What do you do Bunny?<br />
Bunny: Do? Oh... like work! I mostly volunteer. Functions for Vegans.. animal rights... some PETA events... humane society... animal control... rescue and adoptions. I stay busy most of my free time. Taking care of Gavin is a full time job!<br />
Chip: What do you do, Old Man?<br />
Me: I am a writer!<br />
Others: Oh... a writer... yes.. a writer... so a writer?<br />
Buffy: I read a lot! Danielle Steele... and whatever Oprah recommends.<br />
Me: That's great!<br />
Bunny: Are you with someone or did you sneak in here alone?<br />
Me: Me? No! I am with my wife!<br />
Chip: Your wife? Great! Where is she?<br />
Me: She's sitting on the sofa. Texting the babysitter.<br />
Bunny: Kids, too! Fabulous. You must be doing well... as a writer!<br />
Others: <i>(Getting good look at Wife)</i> She is very pretty. What does she do all day?<br />
You know... while you... write!<br />
Me: Oh she stays busy... with NASA!<br />
Gavin: Excuse me... did you say...<br />
Me: Yes! NASA! She's an astronaut! She has been on the International Space Station 3... no, I'm wrong... 4 times! She is an astro-engineer. Doctorate from Purdue... and M.I.T. She helped design a lot of the new living and sleeping quarters on the space station... and for the new Orion space capsule being unveiled soon. But as you know.. it's all in those patents. Money.. money... money! I'm just kidding... well ... not really. I just adore my little American Hero! Honey...<br />
Astronaut Wife: <i>(Joining the dumbfounded group)</i> Hello, Sweetheart! Making new friends?<br />
Me: Sure... why not? Everyone ... this is the Colonel. And Colonel this is... I guess... everyone.<br />
Astronaut Wife: Wonderful party. We'd really love to stay longer, but we have a little emergency to deal with at home.<br />
Me: The babysitter?<br />
Astronaut Wife: No! Not at all. Well... to make this simple...there is a component the Russians brought aboard the ISS for use in their sleeping quarters.. and it did not fit right.. so I have to walk them through repairs while on a video link up at 0500 ...tomorrow morning.<br />
Me: Let's get you home and into bed... Hey! Great party! Let's do this again... sometime... soon... I guess! <i>(Leaves with Astronaut Wife)</i><br />
Buffy: Well.. of all the nerve... showing off like that!<br />
Bunny: I say!<br />
Chip: People can be so stuck up!<br />
Gavin: Who cares what some people do for a living? I mean... you don't have to belittle those of us who make a difference.<br />
Chip: Here! Here!<br />
Gavin: Oh.. BTW... your kid's tonsil bill is overdue!<br />
Chip: Not a good time, Gav... Old Man!<br />
Buffy: Quick... to the door... what kind of car are they driving?<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Finis</i><br />
<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-17719275209677622552016-06-24T14:18:00.000-07:002016-08-02T05:11:13.291-07:00Talking to the Mirror... 30 years later!<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b2PwpzHU4D8/V22ZJQ5tAJI/AAAAAAAAAkg/TD5N2QRH7TofVxzGw71Hrb2p7tdamWmWACLcB/s1600/meme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b2PwpzHU4D8/V22ZJQ5tAJI/AAAAAAAAAkg/TD5N2QRH7TofVxzGw71Hrb2p7tdamWmWACLcB/s320/meme.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The following is an interview between 23 year old me and the current irascible, incarnation<i> </i>of myself.<i> </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WWff4Dv0OuE/V22hFLu-HHI/AAAAAAAAAlA/FE4i-GMcZzECL7GAOaI8ArIR9164tq09gCLcB/s1600/mjfcars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><i>{Note: At age 23, I had started a theatrical production company producing original showcases,
touring shows and musicals. I was written up in newspapers like the Dallas Morning News and the Dallas Times Herald as an up & comer. I performed in a handful of big budget and independent films.
I wrote articles for a series of magazines. I tested and performed comedy material
at the Houston Comedy Workshop. I wrote jokes for a number of comedians. I performed in
scores of radio, TV commercials and training films. I was single, tan, thin with a full head of black curly hair.}</i><br />
<br />
OLD ME: So... you are still alive? That's a plus!<br />
CURRENT ME: Surprised even me... especially since I smoked like a chimney for all those years.<br />
OM: How did all that go.. especially with our asthma?<br />
CM: We had our moments. Especially playing sports like basketball, soccer, baseball and softball... sports induced asthma and sleep apnea have been no fun!<br />
OM: You played all those things after 25... 30? When did you finally quit?<br />
CM: A few years after Jessica was born. I decided to let her shine. My knees were done. I remember in my late 30s.. even more so in my 40s... when I made a slide tackle in soccer or slid into second base... I would say to myself... "I'm gonna feel that at 50!" And believe me, I do!<br />
OM: Where are our millions?<br />
CM: ...Of dollars? Hahahaha... Ask my ex and a couple former live in girlfriends. Oh... they never tell you that after a divorce.. with your child living 2 states away... that <i>divorced dad </i>thing can be really expensive!<br />
OM: Does your daughter appreciate you for all of that?<br />
CM: She's coming out of her teenage years... and very responsible. She knows that I love her... and that I never wanted to make it a tug of war with her mother.<br />
We communicate a whole lot better than I ever did with Mom at your age!<br />
OM: How is dear old Mom?<br />
CM: She was diagnosed with dementia at age 70... Alzheimer's soon after that. It has been an emotional struggle, but I have stayed close.<br />
OM: Not me! I don't think I would care all that much.<br />
CM: As you age, you find it all becomes part of the circle of life. You either commit or quit!<br />
OM: So... we never got hair plugs?<br />
CM: In my 30s, I created a persona... two actually. One was <i>Cap 'N' Mike</i>. I changed from wearing that stupid rain hat I wore back then... to a baseball cap. Usually a Cubs cap. I had headshots made with the baseball cap look. I got a hell of a lot of Joe Job commercials as <i>Cap 'N' Mike</i>! <br />
OM: Joe Jobs?<br />
CM: Plumbers. Dads playing catch with the kids. Construction workers, etc...<br />
OM: And your other persona?<br />
CM: <i>Business Mike</i>... a gruff looking business guy... kinda like ... Ed Asner.<br />
OM: I noticed you got fat...<br />
CM: No one stays 160lbs forever. (LOL) Back in Texas, especially in the Swamp {My old house}... it was like a sauna 300+ days a year. Who didn't lose weight? Plus, 2 packs of smokes a day were a better diet than Slimfast... maybe not as healthy, but a meal alternative just the same.<br />
OM: What happened to my MG Midget?<br />
<br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WWff4Dv0OuE/V22hFLu-HHI/AAAAAAAAAlA/FE4i-GMcZzECL7GAOaI8ArIR9164tq09gCLcB/s1600/mjfcars.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="73" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WWff4Dv0OuE/V22hFLu-HHI/AAAAAAAAAlA/FE4i-GMcZzECL7GAOaI8ArIR9164tq09gCLcB/s320/mjfcars.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
CM: I replaced it with a Mazda Miata. Japanese, but doesn't break down every other month. It was actually my divorced dad car!<br />
OM: How WAS marriage?<br />
CM: Quick.. only a few years... then annulled. Amazingly, the Church can and will annul your marriage.. and there is really nothing you can do about it... that is, unless you want to be a real pain to your Ex and try to fight it... but in the end, you lose. Why waste the energy? I think the annulment was the first step to healing my psyche after the divorce.<br />
OM: What is our best accomplishment?<br />
CM: Jessica, by far! Other than the hundreds and hundreds of commercials, the plays, short stories and books... I am definitely proudest of my Creative Kids Acting program!<br />
OM: You followed through with that, huh?<br />
CM: I started it to give back to a new generation of kid actors... what happened is ... the kids gave me back way more in return.<br />
OM: Are you happy?<br />
CM: Sure! I love what I do. I've been lucky to do what I love. And occasionally I get paid for it. LOL. Just kidding.... maybe not... but it's been quite a ride. Lost a lot of friends along the way... But I have a great circle of friends... people who like and respect me.. and even some who really look out for me. I mean...who could ask for anything more?<br />
OM: Where do you see <i>us</i> in 30 years?<br />
CM: As ashes spread over Pam Anderson.<br />
OM: Wait... what...who?<br />
CM: Never mind. I guess I would still like to be kicking and irascible. Still pinching girls' bottoms when I hug them... and ... maybe if I get that old... I'll have been watching NASA land on Mars.. and laughing my ass off as all those 'Martian Colony nuts' cried back to Earth to be saved!<br />
OM: I don't get the NASA thing, but... you have always been a bit out there...<br />
CM: Back at ya!<br />
OM: Look... it's been good talking to you, old man!<br />
CM: You, too! Oh.. BTW... When <i>Allison Stofer</i> calls you in about 13 years and tries to sell you paper goods for the Tool Company... ask her to marry you ...right then and there.<br />
OM: O...K... Again, I don't get it, but I'll make note of it. You know... I don't want to get married... yet! <br />
CM: You will.... Oh, brother... like a ticking clock... you will! Find the right one!... <i>(All..i..son... Sto...!)</i><br />
OM: Look.. I've got my rehearsal here in just a bit ...and ... need to get going... but nice talk!<br />
CM: Take it easy, Kid! Remember don't stress too much... things tend to fall into place a hell of a lot quicker when you just let it all go!<br />
OM: Sounds zen! Peace out, Buddha! <br />
CM: Later, Kid!<br />
<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-86872404701561724032016-06-17T02:46:00.001-07:002016-08-02T05:11:30.565-07:00The Superman Sketch <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x26FybC-pBk/V2PFFqU_xQI/AAAAAAAAAjY/UidiYzN0uVwkeGoebz-pAWJLXZVG6ZgtACLcB/s1600/supblu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x26FybC-pBk/V2PFFqU_xQI/AAAAAAAAAjY/UidiYzN0uVwkeGoebz-pAWJLXZVG6ZgtACLcB/s1600/supblu.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<i> The Superman Sketch was developed to be part of a short video produced by the Creative Alternative Acting Program (The adult acting side of <a href="http://www.actindy.com/" target="_blank"> The Creative Talent Workshop</a>). I've dusted off the script and present it here to you.</i><br />
<br />
<i>{Note: A parody. Any resemblance between any of these characters or persons living or DC is purely intentional. Dedicated to Jerry & Joe!}</i><br />
<br />
<i>Scene 1: Office/Board room</i><br />
<br />
<i>CLARK KENT, JIMMY OLSEN, ART FLEMING and LOIS LANE are sitting around a board room table. PERRY WHITE is at the head of the table conducting a news gathering meeting.</i><br />
<br />
PERRY: ...And the brunt of the cost for construction of the new Metropolis stadium will come from a hotel and restaurant tax... paid in most part by the citizens of Metropolis.<br />
<br />
JIMMY: Does Metropolis even need a new stadium, Chief?<br />
<br />
PERRY: Olsen! We are getting one either way. And don't call me...<br />
<br />
LOIS: Chief? How about an in depth article that blows the lid off of the corporate greed and governmental corruption that went into financing the deal?<br />
<br />
PERRY: Good angle, Lois!<br />
<br />
JIMMY: Maybe we should just get Superman to build it.<br />
<br />
LOIS: How about it, Clark? Wanna ask your friend Superman if he'd like to build the new stadium?<br />
<br />
CLARK: Uh...Yes...uh... Superman...<br />
<br />
<i>VOICE: Help me Superman! Aaaaah!</i><br />
<br />
ART: We were 1-15 last year. The old stadium was already a Fortress of Solitude.<br />
<br />
<i>They all laugh except CLARK. Close up of CLARK'S ear...</i><br />
<br />
<i>VOICE: Help me Superman! Save me Superman! Help Superman!</i><br />
<br />
PERRY: Moving on.... There's been an increase in crime on the Metropolis' waterfront. It seems that nobody's monitoring the docks these days. And with the influx of foreign shipments...well, let's see... I have a report here from both the Metropolis police department and the FBI that states...<br />
<br />
<i>As PERRY continues on, we hear more and more voices crying out for Superman.</i><br />
<br />
PERRY: <i>(Finishing up) </i>...And I want it accompanied with a complete set of photos, Olsen! ... And please, Son! No more pictures of sailors home on leave.<br />
<br />
JIMMY: Sorry, Chief... Mr. White!<br />
<br />
CLARK: Um...Excuse me, Chief! But I've got to... er... take off... er... leave... I just realized that I have an appointment with... well... I've got to go.<br />
<br />
LOIS: An appointment, Clark? I bet you're just trying to duck out and get a head start on my stadium story. Are you trying to scoop me again with my own story idea, Clark?<br />
<br />
CLARK: Yes! I mean... No, Lois... I forgot that I had a... a...<br />
<br />
<i>VOICE: Superman, please! For the love of all that is good and decent... Aaaaah!</i><br />
<br />
JIMMY: He doesn't need YOUR leads, Miss Lane! He’s the top reporter here at the Daily Planet and I think Mr. Kent is just SUPER!<br />
<br />
CLARK: Er.. uh.. what? <i>(Rising) </i> I really should be going...<br />
<br />
PERRY: Sit down! I didn't call this meeting just to hear myself talk. In fact, Kent! I have made a note to myself here that you have excused yourself... <i>(looks at notes)</i>... from our last 207 meetings!<br />
<br />
ART: Damn!<br />
<br />
PERRY: Were you ever planning to sit through an entire meeting without getting up to go off to god knows who knows where the hell you go? I mean, Great Caesar's Ghost, Kent!<br />
<br />
ART: (<i>Confidentially to Clark</i>) I gave up lunch at Applebee's to be here, Kent!... And you know it's 1/2 price Riblets before 4 o'clock on Thursdays!<br />
<br />
LOIS: Clark? Does it always have to be about you?<br />
<br />
PERRY: OK! Folks! We are still working here! Next up... we have a story on the large number of 'exploding' Tickle-me-Elmos. It seems that when these dolls get "tickled", they start short circuiting and setting children on fire...<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>CLARK looks resigned to sit through the rest of the meeting. He covers his ears.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Scene 2 Clark Kent's Office</i><br />
<br />
<i>CLARK still reeling from the meeting drops off his briefcase on his desk. Camera has him finishing his work at a super speed. Phone rings.</i><br />
<br />
CLARK: <i>(Debating on answering, picks up phone)</i> Um...Hello? Clark Kent...<br />
<br />
VOICE ON PHONE: Hello, sir! I am conducting a survey and I only need 4 or 5 minutes of your time.<br />
<br />
CLARK: Look! I am kind of busy here...<br />
<br />
VOICE: That's ok, Sir. This is only a survey and we are not selling anything. All you have to do is answer a few simple questions... let's begin, shall we? OK<br />
#1 Are you happy with your cell phone and internet service?<br />
If you are happy with your cell phone and internet service, would you say you are:<br />
A. mildly happy<br />
B. a medium low happy<br />
C. Medium happy<br />
D. Tepid happy<br />
E. Luke warm happy<br />
F. Slightly above medium happy<br />
G. Average happy<br />
H. Happy...<br />
<br />
<i>Scene 3 Hallway</i><br />
<br />
<i>CLARK tries to duck into a storage room. He is stopped by an elderly employee.</i><br />
<br />
LAVERNE: Excuse me, Clark?<br />
<br />
CLARK: Darn!<br />
<br />
LAVERNE: What? Oh Clark? Can I speak with you a second?<br />
<br />
CLARK: Why yes, Laverne... but I was about to... uh... (<i>looks over her shoulder at supply closet</i>) How can I help you?<br />
<br />
LAVERNE: The new parking arrangement. When I first got my car... Not the car I am driving now... but the one that my late husband left for me... even though he probably knew that it had too much horsepower... and was terrible on gas... and I never did like the color... and I even had a chance to speak with the car dealer before my husband... (God rest his soul) ...purchased it off the lot... though they were going to charge him a delivery fee... even though all cars have to be delivered to the dealer ...somehow and it's just a way to make more money from the customer. Well... that car used to fit my parking space... a little tight but not as bad as the car that I bought a few years ago when we used to get a bonus....<br />
<br />
CLARK: Laverne! I really have to get going here...<br />
<br />
LAVERNE: But I am not complaining ...after the Daily Planet cut about 2/3 of its employees... a few years back I was grateful that at my age they didn't let me go... or phase out my department in research. You never visit us much anymore, Clark. Well...<br />
<br />
<i>VOICE: Help me, Superman! Where is Superman? Superman pleeeeease!!!!</i><br />
<br />
LAVERNE: ...They moved my parking assignment to the fifth floor from the third floor and put me next to the compact car parking... but no one observes the rule for compact cars and they just park freely where ever they want. And when a big car parks in the compact car spot, it doesn't give me enough room to park my car. Not the one I got from my late husband... (God rest his soul)... but the new one I got when I made the down payment with our last bonus check....<br />
<br />
<i>Scene 4 Montage of life or death situations</i><br />
<br />
<i>Video montage of life and death situations with accompanying voice overs!<br /><br />Scene 5 The BAR</i><br />
<br />
<i>CLARK is seated at the end of the bar holding a fluorescent green drink in a shot glass. His tie is undone and you can partially see a glimpse of his blue costume top from his open shirt collar. He is drunk.</i><br />
<br />
BARTENDER: Rough day, Buddy?<br />
<br />
CLARK: (<i>Drunk on a fluorescent green shot</i>) It's.. the people of your planet! Everyday.... it's I WANT THIS... OR I NEED THAT.. OR SAVE ME FROM AN EARTHQUAKE... or a FLOOD.... or an ICE RAY! Human Beings! Can't they just get together and work it out amongst themselves? (<i>Turns to his left</i>) YOU know what I'm saying!<br />
<br />
SANTA CLAUS: I HEAR YA!<br />
<br />
JESUS: I HEAR YA<br />
<br />
<i>Bright light from above</i><br />
<br />
GOD: I HEAR YOU!<br />
<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-24551020723073697342016-06-16T00:07:00.000-07:002016-08-02T05:11:45.366-07:00One Minute Theater: Blind Date Spit Take<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<i>(Man & Woman on a blind date. This comes from a flashback and is b</i><i><i>ased on real events. Names have been changed to protect... well... me! </i>)</i><br />
<br />
Man: I thought we might both like giving this restaurant a try.<br />
Woman: I think I saw it on the Groupon web site. I hate visiting places like this without checking to see if they have a coupon or a discount of some sort.<br />
Man: That's OK! It's my treat.<br />
Woman: Well... of course! I never pay for a man on a date. But I may come back here with some of the guys...er... girls from the office... that is, if it’s any good.<br />
Waiter: Welcome to Chez Fritz! Here are your menus. And... while you take your time deciding on dinner, let me go ahead and put in your drink orders.<br />
Man: Sure! I’ll have an iced tea...<br />
Woman: You’re not drinking?<br />
Man: Oh no! Go ahead. Order anything you'd like...<br />
Woman: Well! I’m not going to order something if you’re only going to be drinking soft drinks all night...<br />
Man: (<i>To waiter</i>)... iced tea.<br />
Woman: What kind of beers do you have on tap?<br />
Waiter: We have a wide variety of imports, all the domestics and some nice IPAs... If you want the full list... our current beer list may be found on the back of the... (<i>Woman stares down Waiter ... he proceeds to list 25 of their popular beers</i> <i>from memory</i>)<br />
Woman: Oh! Just get me a Coke... No! Make that a Diet... Oh! Just bring me a glass of ice water!<br />
Waiter: Very good! I’ll be right back with your drinks... and bring out some complimentary rolls...<br />
Woman: Wait! What kind of butter do they come with?<br />
Man: Butter?<br />
Waiter: Our rolls come with a signature whipped butter blend created by our chef.<br />
Woman: Well... you'd better bring out a sample of that. I don’t like the signature butter most restaurants use ... like O’Charley’s... or Texas Roadhouse....<br />
Man: Hmmm! Why not just give it a taste test when the rolls come out?<br />
Woman: Oh! I know it won't taste like real butter. I probably won’t like it. And I know I will have to send it back.<br />
Man: I can already see the foreshadowing...<br />
Woman: The what? What did you say?<br />
Man: (<i>To waiter</i>) The drinks and rolls will be fine...<br />
Woman: ...And a sample of your butter!<br />
Waiter: Very good! I'll take your order when I return. (<i>He withdraws.. writing a note on his pad</i>)<br />
Woman: So... what do you do for a living?<br />
Man: I create and test programs for a Virtual Reality systems company that works with doctors, hospitals and research labs...<br />
Woman: You make video games? I hate video games. They are soooo stupid! What a waste of time and money. Video games!<br />
Man: Well! These aren’t exactly video... games ... per say...<br />
Woman: I bought my son a PS2 or 4 or XBox something. He must have 1000 of those games lying around the living room. He and his father play them from the time they wake up til the time they go to bed. I can hardly vacuum the place....<br />
Man: His father lives with...?<br />
Woman: Oh, no! Poopie!... They didn’t list any of the specials. I don’t want to eat something they have cooked 1000x. (<i>Looking around the room</i>) What <i>are</i> the specials?<br />
Man: Go ahead and order anything you'd like...<br />
Woman: (<i>Tries to stop Waiter</i> <i>heading to the kitchen with another order</i>) Excuse me... Waiter! (<i>She snaps her fingers. Man winces</i>) Waiter! (<i>Snaps, then snaps again</i>)<br />
Waiter: Yes, Ma’am! Are you ready to order?<br />
Woman: Ummmmm... What are your specials tonight?<br />
(<i>The Waiter goes through a list of 6-7 appetizing specials. He details how they are prepared... and their discounted prices... three times</i>)<br />
Woman: Oh! I’ll just have a steak. Not the 10 oz ...like this one in the menu or the 6 oz... like this one in the menu. Just have them prepare one... in between. And please! Not medium... or well done. Something in between. If it’s too well done... I <i>will</i> send it back. I'd like <i>some</i> pink. Not <i>all</i> pink. And not red! I want a salad with vinaigrette... on the side... do not put any on the salad. Bring out <i>real</i> pepper! Make it with no cheese. but an extra tomato. No egg... and no bacon. Gawd how I hate bacon bits. They are fake and taste dry and rubbery...<br />
Waiter: Ahem... no bacon! And for your other side?<br />
Woman: A baked potato. Not burned, please. (<i>To Man, without looking up from her menu</i>) They burn them in places like this! They sit in their ovens for hours and hours. (<i>To Waiter</i>) A baked potato with...half butter... half sour cream. Do not let the butter touch the sour cream. Separate the two. And please! Real butter. No house blend... Oh, while I'm thinking about it... bring out a sample taste of that vinaigrette, too. Some restaurant vinaigrette tastes too wine-y!<br />
Man: Too wine-y?<br />
Woman: And when you come back... bring along a dessert menu... I want to see the dessert list. Or do you have a dessert tray? I want to see it before we eat our dinner. If I fill up too much on the meal, I might not enjoy my dessert... and I love my desserts!<br />
Waiter: Very good! (<i>He remarkably reads back her exact dinner order, subtlely mimicking the Woman's inflections</i>)<br />
Waiter: ...And for the gentleman?<br />
Man: Just the... check, please!<br />
Woman: What?<br />
Man: Check, please! Look! I apologize... but we will be leaving! This was a bad idea from the start. I'm sorry for wasting your time... and the table.<br />
Woman: Well... of all the nerve! Why would you do such a thing?<br />
Man: To be honest with you?... I was <i>afraid</i>... I mean, <i>really</i> afraid...<br />
Woman: Afraid of what?<br />
Man: Afraid the waiter would forget whose meal belonged to whom... mix 'em up... and I’d get the one with spit on it! <br />
(<i>Woman goes silent</i>)<br />
Man: We'll just hit a Drive thru on the way home! Again, sorry!<br />
Waiter: No problem, Sir! ... There is no charge... But might I just say... I do bet the evening <i>will</i> get better for you and your lady friend!<br />
Man: (<i>Handing the Waiter a tip</i>) Oh... I think you'd lose that bet!<br />
<br />
~ Finis<br />
<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-30640643957025276772016-06-14T07:28:00.002-07:002016-08-02T05:11:57.867-07:00Oh dear! Oh dear! A little tinkle in your ear!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Back in the day, there were 3 TV networks, maybe one independent station and a PBS channel. Around midnight, each station would sign off for the night.<br />
Static screens ruled the night until a test pattern popped up in the early morning.<br />
Though I had to drag myself out of bed to get ready for school during the week, on the weekend I would be waiting for the arrival of that test pattern. It was a ritual.<br />
1. Quietly sneak down stairs.<br />
2. Turn on TV (manually... there were no remotes... I was the remote!)<br />
<i> {Side story: I would be in my room glancing over some NFL or Hot Rod magazine when all of a sudden my father calls me downstairs in a voice that hearkened to some kind of emergency. <br /> "Mike!" I all but flew downstairs, not once stepping on any stair step, but swinging down the banister like a gymnast. "Turn the TV to channel 13.... 'ka-chink chink chink'... now 8.... 'ka-chink chink chink' ...now 6...." ad infinitum. End of side story}</i><br />
3. Turn down the volume on the family Philco TV so as not to wake the house.<br />
4. As TV warms up, head back upstairs (quietly) and gather pillows and a blanket.<br />
5. Sneak back down downstairs (quietly).<br />
6. Create a pillow fort in front of the TV screen. A nest of bedroom pillows, sofa pillows, and a blanket or two so close to the TV set that as the<i> urban legend</i> would have us believe...we could die of radiation poisoning.<br />
7. As the test pattern ends... TV station disclaimers begin.<br />
8. Suffer through an early morning broadcast of a rural TV farm report.<br />
9. Watch a bloc of local commercials until the network feeds start to broadcast.<br />
10. Then... watch a full half day of the best cartoons (and kid programming) Warner Bros, Filmation, Sid & Marty Krofft, etc... had to offer.<br />
<i> (Unless we were playing sports. We were not allowed to watch Saturday Morning Cartoons on those days we had games. It was a rule my father laid down. He believed that TV ruined your eyes and would affect your vision and coordination on the field or court. See urban legend in #6.)</i><br />
<i> </i>So here I am all nestled comfortably in my pillow bunker, when all at once they start up with...<i> </i><br />
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<i> </i>The Saturday Morning Barrage of Sugary Sweet Cereal Commercials!<br />
Tony the Tiger's Greaaaaaaat Frosted Flakes. Sugar Bear for Sugar Crisp. Quisp and Quake. Snap, Crackle and Pop's Rice Krispies. Captain Crunch. Toucan Sam for Fruit Loops...<br />
<i>{Side story on Fruit Loops. We all had cereals we liked, but then there were certain brands we wouldn't touch. It was easy for parents to find out which brand was a least favorite by purchasing a 6 or 8 variety pack and see what box sat unopened for any extended period of time. Apple Jacks? Special K?<br /> My least favorite cereal was Fruit Loops...to this day! But on one special Sunday during my high school years... the morning after a Doobie Bros concert which had become an illegal underage drink and partyfest ... on a delicate stomach, I had to eat a bowl of Fruit Loops in front of my father to prove I was not hungover. It was miserable. Each bite worst than the last. I ate 3/4 of a bowl when my father decided to join me. He took only one bite and realized the milk was spoiled. I spent the rest of that Sunday morning praying to the porcelain god! End of side story.}<br /> </i>Well, no kid was going to last watching 20+ cereal commercials (those cereals that come with a prize inside the box) intermingled between ads for Hot Wheels, Barbies, GI Joes, Slip 'n' Slides, Super Balls, Frisbees, PF Flyers and Red Ball Jets... and not get hungry. Off to the kitchen to gorge on Life Cereal (this Mikey DID like it), Raisin Bran, or tumble weed thick Shredded Wheat! Eaten from a bowl that would somehow never voluntarily make it into the sink afterward.<br />
Back to the Nest... but wait! It had been invaded. It was now operating under a different flag. The new commander of the pillow fort? A younger brother. Only 4 years old and already making costly errors in his short lived life.<br />
"Out!"<br />
"You snooze, you lose!" Wait! What? I taught him that when I took over his... <i>{fill in any fun activity}. </i>It's what Big Brothers do. And now he is usurping my Saturday morning power of controlling the TV from a fort of my own device?<br />
Now, there is normal punishment and torture... and there is Big Brother punishment and torture. Can't breathe! Can't breathe! But if you can guess what happened next ...when a 'bran filled' loaded brother aims to unleash on his innocent, but obnoxious younger sibling... then I can spare you the gassy details. Younger brother pops up swinging and chases me through the house. Me laughing... all the way back to the kitchen for bowl number 2 or 3. Younger brother calls for a cease fire and joins the cereal brigade.<br />
Now, after so much cereal... a visit to the throne room is in order. And when you are a kid.. and know you are going to spend any extended period of time in there... you bring along a Marvel or DC comic with you! And so, as I perused the adventures of Dr. Bruce Banner, I heard the loudest scream ever from our house on old 54th Street. I will piece together the details:<br />
1. Younger brother finishes breakfast.<br />
2. Returns to nest.<br />
3. Nest taken over by older sister who remarks... "You snooze, you lose!"<br />
4. Younger brother retaliates by trying to unleash a gas attack aimed at her.<br />
5. Can't muster any gas... BUT... accidentally PEES in her ear!<br />
We were told that the scream was heard as far as 6 blocks away... but it was also rumored that a US military spy plane... 3 passenger jets ... and both defunct Sputnik and Telstar satellites had recorded a strange, unidentified 'blip' at that exact time. But... that could be an urban legend!<br />
End note: In 2015, the television networks made the decision to no longer broadcast Saturday Morning Cartoons in favor of morning news shows. <i>Heck! We had our own news show every 30 minutes... CBS 'In The News' with Christopher Glenn. But I digress</i>. <br />
Whether it was competition from cable channels, the war on PC content, educational guideline discrepancies or costs... Saturday Morning Cartoons on the major networks were now gone. We have reached the end of an era! Long live Scooby Doo, The Archies, Bugs & Road Runner, The Monkees, H.R. Puffenstuff, Fat Albert, et al... You shaped a generation of early morning rising, sugar buzzed TV cartoon addicts! It was a gas!<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-41476311136720189002016-06-12T22:57:00.003-07:002016-06-14T07:31:20.859-07:00One Minute Theater: That Old Gang of Mime<br />
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<br />
Welcome to One Minute Theater. <br />
Spectacular drama to help you goof off... er... get you through your busy day!<br />
<br />
<i>Outside the Police Interrogation Room<br />Two officers stand in front of the one way glass discussing the person sitting alone inside the room. The suspect is a mime.</i><br />
Cop #1: So? Who is this clown?<br />
Cop #2: I believe he is a mime!<br />
Cop #1: A what?<br />
Cop #2: A mime.<br />
Cop #1: Did you get anything out of him?<br />
Cop #2: Not a word. <br />
Cop #1: Really? So what’s his story?<br />
Cop #2: Well! He seems to have been confined in a box at some point.<br />
Cop #1: And he told you this?<br />
Cop #2: Again, not a word. But it must have been some place that was windy.<br />
Cop #1: So! He told you that?<br />
Cop #2: As I said... he hasn’t uttered one word!<br />
Cop #1: I don’t follow. Where are you getting all the details about the box and weather?<br />
Cop #2: He described them to me.<br />
Cop #1: Oh! It was then he stopped talking...?<br />
Cop #2: He's never once uttered a word.<br />
Cop #1: I don’t follow. Hmmm! What's with the clown make-up?<br />
Cop #2: I believe the white face paint is used to help exaggerate his facial expressions.<br />
Cop #1: So! He’s not a Caucasian, then?<br />
Cop #2: He appears to be.<br />
Cop #1: I don’t follow.<br />
Cop #2: He’s what they call a 'street performer'.<br />
Cop #1: He sells to kids on the street?<br />
Cop #2: What? No! He doesn’t sell anything, but he does take donations.<br />
Cop #1: Ahhh! A bunko artist!<br />
Cop #2: I believe he’s more a performance artist.<br />
Cop #1: Ahhh! Performing some community service?<br />
Cop #2: Er.. no... while he does perform for the community... er.. people... I don’t believe it's a service.<br />
Cop #1: What’s he charged with?<br />
Cop #2: Intimidation. Accosting a spectator. It started out with some imaginary rope trick. He just kept pulling at it... and pulling... pulling...<br />
Cop #1: So! It was a tied up spectator who called out for police assistance?<br />
Cop #2: No! But after the rope routine... he came over to the crowd... snatched and grabbed a police officer’s hat, put it on his head and started to comically mimic the officer in front of the crowd... making large, menacing gestures. It provoked laughter from the spectators. A lot of laughter... at the officer's expense.<br />
Cop #1: So... that is when a spectator in the crowd got hurt?<br />
Cop #2: Yes.... well... no spectator. It was... Me! He hurt my feelings. Look! Ridiculing an authority figure by insulting his position of authority is the first step toward civil disobedience, I’ll have you know...<br />
<i>(The mime gets up from his chair and walks over to the one way glass. He pretends to clean the glass a bit then looks out and starts acting like he is rubbing his eyes and starting to cry.)</i><br />
Cop #2: (<i>Quietly, while tapping on the glass with his finger</i>) You... are... a dead mime!<br />
<i>(The mime staggers as if suffering a heart attack.. then collapses... while pulling a plastic flower out of his sleeve which he holds against his chest... finally lying 'dead' on the Interrogation Room's floor.)</i><br />
Cop #1: (Laughs) What a clown!<br />
Cop #2: Mime!... A <i> ^#%#&</i> Mime!<br />
<br />
~ Finis<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-69154595107062264142016-06-08T14:23:00.001-07:002016-08-02T05:12:10.580-07:00Every Day a Little Death!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Years ago, I was standing offstage at the Scott Theatre in Ft. Worth, Texas listening to the orchestra play a Stephen Sondheim lilting musical passage from the show 'A Little Night Music'. It was the intro to the song 'Every Day a Little Death' and on stage was the very talented actress/performer and friend Shannon Avnsoe. She was about to take command of the entire show and audience with her performance. The same musical performance that became not only a breath taking, show stopping moment for me... but one that has continued to stay in my psyche to this very day. The memory of that song has reaffirmed my spiritual belief over and over again.. if you are not living, you are dying. And in the case of someone close dying, the whole process will try to take a little bit of your spirit away, too.<br />
Ever hear somebody say 'my life really changed after I lost {fill in relative, sibling, friend, etc...}? Sure. Life IS change. Nothing ever stays the same. Our memories are all but chapters in a scrapbook or novel we have created (and seemingly edit) in our mind over time. For so many people their novels have lots of crossover stories and characters, yet no two parallel each other completely. But isn't that the definition of reality? No two people experience 'the absolute truth' the same way. But I digress!<br />
When I lost my father, it was quick. He was shot on a Monday morning. He died in the hospital by midnight that night. That may not sound quick to some, but now with Mom fighting Alzheimer's for 16 years, it was the blink of an eye.<br />
Mom started with dementia. How do I know? I had her tested by a friend who worked for the Mental Health Association. She surprisingly passed. But only a few months later, some local family doctor diagnosed her with Alzheimer's and all but sealed her fate. Months in a nursing home in her old hometown, a year or two in a senior living apartment in a nursing facility in Indy... followed by years in the dementia ward... followed by more years in the Alzheimer's unit. Every day a little death.<br />
Note: The following words are not a dig at any of my siblings or extended family members. I, for one, know that we have our own lives to lead and that we all grieve in our own way. But... if you can't handle the battle... don't commit to the battlefield. Some generals appear... want to take charge and give orders... and then conveniently slip away from the war front. I have seen it. I have lived it. I have 3 out of state siblings who lead very busy lives. I, on the other hand, have decided to stay close/visit often. But please! I am far from the perfect, loving son. In fact, of all my family members, I just wasn't as close to her as they appeared to be. Through my college years, we just pulled apart. We later fought like cats and dogs. There were years, almost a decade, we didn't even communicate. She was convinced I was just being childish, me being certain that I definitely was. We finally did make peace... but soon after she fell sick and became hospitalized. To be released from the hospital, she had to be admitted to a rehab facility which fell on me (and my 4 year old daughter). We had to find a nursing facility and get her admitted all over one Thanksgiving holiday. Memorable, huh? She was moved to an Indy nursing facility a year or so later and she has been there for a decade and a half since.<br />
It's not guilt that keeps me visiting her. It's more personal. I believe it has to do with abandonment issues. I have lost a lot of very close friends and associates over the years. Some by death, most by distance. Facebook has been a marvel at rekindling some friendships. {Note: A true, lasting friendship is the ability to find someone over any space and time... and pick up doing the same stupid shit you were doing when you were last together.} I rarely say 'goodbye' to any one close to me. I may say 'Later' or 'Late'... but never the finality of a goodbye!<br />
Good day, sir! I said...Good day! ... aha Not me! Never Can Say Goodbye said the Jackson Five? I get it!<br />
When it comes to visiting the nursing home, it's gird your loins and expect the unexpected. People fighting to recognize you... people wandering... making weird, inappropriate, some time scary noises... people in all matter of dress. Most are sleeping or quiet, others screaming for help or assistance... as if some orderly is going to take them back in time to a happier time... at home.. with maybe a cat... and a garden. But again, I digress. I visit her because it is what I do. And I do have to psyche myself up to visit the nursing home. It is as if I'm about to play basketball or soccer. I then leave emotionally spent as if I went 6 rounds with a UFC championship fighter. Or better stated... the feeling of just having performed a 3 act play to a handful of Sunday matinee blue hairs who don't applaud but sit and discuss dinner arrangements during the curtain call. Thanks for coming, here's your hat!<br />
Leaving the facility does not give me a warm, fuzzy feeling either. Quite the opposite. It reinforces my abandonment issues. I have to go. Sorry! Some probably might say this emotionally hearkens back to the divorced dad/visitation drive to Chicago trade offs with my daughter... especially when she was very young. Or maybe it is the loss of my father, Mike Sr. Or even heading off to Texas for college, leaving friends and family in my proverbial tumbleweed dust. Hey! Don't look over your shoulder, they might not be there when you look.<br />
I know am not extending my mother's life by visiting... even though she still finds my lack of a filter in most situations worth the price of admission. At 86, small, frail and confined to a wheelchair... she is not experiencing a quality of life we'd wish on any parent. but she is still here. Fighting to remember the whos and whats. But... for a long suffering Alzheimer's patient... she does remember me. My biggest reward. And that is the point... the all of it all! For a long suffering Alzheimer's patient who was supposed to have lost touch with reality years ago, she remembers me (by name, even)... But then again, who could forget a real, larger than life cartoon character like myself? Yep!<br />
So I continue to visit regularly with no set schedule. I get there as often as I can. Being respectful of others. Keeping my feelings in check (since my mouth won't stay there). And what I have come to take from all of this is that... we handle what we can handle! This life lesson has taught me... we can appear to stay strong and positive, but for the caregiver... everyday a little death!<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-71428577956185957432016-06-06T19:35:00.000-07:002016-08-02T05:12:19.259-07:00Wake up! It's time to go to bed!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q40CKwhH_oY/V1Yl4SNoRNI/AAAAAAAAAgc/co43wj5qL-EZju7LMjhyHnMruin6iPVgQCLcB/s1600/jo221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q40CKwhH_oY/V1Yl4SNoRNI/AAAAAAAAAgc/co43wj5qL-EZju7LMjhyHnMruin6iPVgQCLcB/s320/jo221.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I don't sleep. I gave that up years ago. I'm not a night owl... I just don't like long periods of inactivity. I am not hyper.. maybe slightly ADHD... ok maybe moderately ADHD... a tiny tiny bit dyslexic... and I can ramble on for hours... but I am not hyper. I cat nap. I catch up on sleep in quick 20 minute or 2 hour intervals, no in between. I don't take pills.. I don't drink (any more)...I meditate. Self hypnosis. Maybe these self hypnosis sessions are subliminally having me sleepwalk and text my credit card numbers to some shady 3rd party, but while I am 'out'... I am out! I have been told over and over again not to worry... which used to be impossible for someone like me with anxiety issues. But I have learned to 'Let it Go'. I am far from lazy. When I think on just how lazy I am I look at my projects... (and to-do) list:<br />
(In no particular order):<br />
1. Work on <a href="http://www.creativekidstv.com/" target="_blank">Creative Kids TV</a> (an internet TV site for kids). Editing, tweaking and drumming up sponsors.<br />
2. My new (almost finished) book: Flash Floods and Texas Tall Tales.<br />
3. My website: <a href="http://creativetalentworkshop.com/">www.creativetalentworkshop.com</a> <br />
4. My commercial and <a href="http://www.actindy.com/Ferruzza_Mike.mp3" target="_blank">voice work</a> (currently voicing a video game in the works)... with an agent that sends me projects at all hours of the day and night!<br />
5. My classes in Broad Ripple and on the Southside.. and soon Southeast side.<br />
Which includes writing scripts and monologues, writing songs & composing music, directing & editing class films and projects... month after month after month.<br />
6. Visiting Mom in the Alzheimer's unit of her Nursing home.<br />
7. IT freelance work for places like Broad Ripple Automotive, Culvers, InDetail Electric, Ricks Kustoms and a growing list of needy clients.<br />
8. Touching base with my awesome (and just as busy) daughter.<br />
9. Quick lunch or meal with close friends (like the Kellers, my adopted second family).<br />
10. Check in on Mad Dog Mike who has never once let his disability get the way of a spirited, shouting match between good friends... who disagree on the 'greatness' of the Dallas Cowboys!<br />
And, like the tag line to a bad resume... 'many, many more'!<br />
I don't sleep because I am chasing an imaginary carrot. My crazy sense of self-worth is tied to just how busy I am... or can I punish myself enough to get even busier. I have lost quite a few girlfriends over the years... from being 'self involved'. I guess that is better than cheating with someone else... but is it?<br />
I adore my extended godfamily of Leslie, Hans, C & C! They have replaced my own dysfuctional siblings. Note: No one can hear the words 'I'm sorry!' when everyone is shouting... and tuning you out in the first place! I would and could not survive without close friends like the Herrick's (Lynn is my Angel), the Livindis, Ryan, Rudy & Roger, Dr. Death!!!, Team Deemer, Vegan Not-see Kraig, Ben & Nat, JM, Lifestyle Lizbeth, all my Creative Talent Workshop Family and Timmy Mac. I have the support of hundreds of friends & associates... and feel the love from far more than 10x that amount. But I don't sleep. I just think!<br />
Have you ever been walking somewhere and suddenly you feel you don't have your keys, your wallet, your glasses... and come to realize ...they are with you the whole time? I think I have narrowed down my personal psychosis to that feeling being a constant nusiance. Hey! My deal, right?<br />
So, I blog! It's better than the therapist's couch, in theory. You may disagree. And I will catnap before the next long night since the Sandman and I do not get along.<br />
So, next time you catch me on some time coded social media outlet... and wonder why I am making comments, quips & Burma Shaves at all hours... just remember, I don't sleep!<br />
Peace out!<br />
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mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-26418893677308290242016-05-31T14:07:00.004-07:002016-08-02T05:12:33.732-07:00Harambe the Gorilla & The Cincinnati Zoo shoot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KZ0Zoal4Z6I/V038mju-7PI/AAAAAAAAAgA/LTf1rxffO6IW0f1iA5lSr1OpexB_NWaGwCLcB/s1600/sharmikegor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KZ0Zoal4Z6I/V038mju-7PI/AAAAAAAAAgA/LTf1rxffO6IW0f1iA5lSr1OpexB_NWaGwCLcB/s320/sharmikegor.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
A few years back, Shari Baum and I were
filming one of our yearly Summer Adventures TV series episodes for Fox19
TV out of Cincinnati. One such episode had us at the Cincinnati Zoo
filming above the gorilla enclosure. With our back to the gorillas
(Harambe, in particular), a sizeable clump of shrubbery came whizzing
past our heads. The strength of his heave was as impressive as it was
daunting. The great ape obviously did not like who we were and wh<span class="text_exposed_show">at
we were doing above HIS habitat. The keeper warned us about making any
kind of gesture in response... even with 25 feet, a moat and wall
between all of us.<br /> Now, what I have taken from the loss of the great
silverback is one of sorrow, but also necessity. I have read the recent
article written by a gorilla keeper about the unpredictability of these
seemingly gentle giants. And a screaming child in the moat was probably
not putting this mighty ape at ease. In my unscientific, but personal
opinion, Harambe had to be put down as the quickest and safest way to
end that horrible situation. These are not trained circus animals (or
animals who have intermingled with humans since birth like Koko the sign
language Gorilla)... these are unpredictable creatures of nature who
have set up and see themselves controlling their environment...
artificial as it may be. Seemingly to some, he may have looked as if he
was protecting the child, but to the trained eye (as stated by the
experienced gorilla keeper) Harambe could have crushed, bitten or torn
the little boy apart in the wink of an eye... and in public view. There
was no alternative plan other than to follow the emergency protocol. </span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show"> Though Harambe will be greatly missed by zoo visitors, I truly believe
the Cincinnati Zoo followed the right procedure... the correct steps for
such a situation... the best one until a better one can be implemented
...for the safety of all creatures involved.</span><br />
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mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-78137365710778244082016-05-30T01:21:00.000-07:002016-08-02T05:12:48.355-07:00Mars Colony: Living in a Fishbowl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Let's get past the media hype and delve into NASA's plan of getting humans to Mars by 2030. A complicated trip using technology not developed yet, seems easy! Here is the trip by the numbers (and a few facts) ...<br />
1. Mars has no spinning core like Earth. With no core, Mars generates no magnetic field to protect it from the bombardment of radiation from space. All astronauts/colonists will die from radiation poisoning in a very short time.<br />
2. The trip to Mars with today's technology will take 6 - 8 months. A snap for astronauts who have spent extended time on the ISS (space station). But... the ISS has leg room. The capsule taking astronauts to Mars will be the size of a small minivan. Ask any family making a cross country drive in a minivan how long they could last traveling together non-stop... 6-8 months will probably not be the figure they come up with.</div>
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3. There is currently no cryo/sleep technology that would allow astronauts the ability to hibernate for such a long trip.</div>
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4. Communication black outs. The further away from Earth, the less immediate contact the astronauts will have with Earth. Unless, they create a relay station. Or assemble space station (pit stops) along the way. Currently, unfeasible.</div>
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5. No contact... trouble awaits. With no instructions from NASA, the astronauts will have to rely on themselves and their on board computers. Imagine dealing with a check engine light while a car is in operation. Pulling over to fix a bad operating system seems not an option.<br />
6. Radiation bombardment while traveling in space on such a long trip will inevitably catch up with the astronauts. No emergency doctor house calls in space. How long will it take to recover once they land on Mars?<br />
7. 3D Printer will do it all. From creating meals (some doughy concoction flavored to fool the taste buds) to creating tools... the astronauts general store will be the 3D printers sent on the trip. The service life and variety of duties asked of these machines have yet to be fully determined.</div>
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8. Landing a vehicle with humans on Mars... not yet. There is no definitive system that can safely land a space capsule on Mars. After a 6 month trek, it would be devastating to lose the craft on landing. Landing a craft on Mars will have no room for error.. and with lack of communication from Earth even more difficult.</div>
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9. Living pods/modules... supplies.... support must be sent to the Mars landing site ahead of the capsule carrying the astronauts. The loss of any craft carrying support and supplies will delay the mission. Again, delivering the payload on such a scale has never been attempted. We are basically sending storage/work/living units on a 7 month journey, to a hostile unforgiving environment... and land them intact. The fishbowl has arrived!</div>
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10. There are no trees. This is no desert. Mars is a desolate planet. There are no resources. Even the most creative thinking survivalist will fail on this trek. You can't build a fire for warmth... because you can't build a fire. And even if the ice on Mars can be converted to water, what water treatment technology must accompany the support supplies? Since everything to keep these people alive must come from Earth... what are the basics that must come along? Including power generators, living quarters and storage units. And where will all the trash go? </div>
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11. Setting up a base... is like setting up a fish tank. The astronauts will have to live contained in a space (and space gear) designed to constantly protect them.. and not break down. There have been tests on such habitats in deserts and desolate places on Earth... but why aren't these tested at the bottom of the ocean... a place where a hole (or breakdown) in the habitat would put you in the same danger as being in radiated space?</div>
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12. The trip to Mars seems a one way trip. The Earth and Mars would have to align to make the travel time in space more optimal. That seems to be every 1½ years or so. If the astronauts do land on Mars... at a minimum they would have to wait a year or so for the return trek. Feasible? Not yet!</div>
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13. Lucky #13. So.. Martian colonists do survive and flourish. What makes us think that in 20, 30, 40 years these people will not create a conflict and come back to Earth to start war with humankind? Martian babies!<br />
A child born on Mars will weigh significantly less than their human counterpart. Returning to Earth, the Martian born will weigh 3-6x their normal weight. 150 lb Martian man = 450 lb Martian Man on Earth! Seems like an easy fight. But they would probably bombard us with a virus, nuke or some Martian produced, reality TV show re-run! Oh, the humanity!<br />
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mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-51397126696026830512016-05-24T22:17:00.004-07:002016-08-02T05:13:00.077-07:00Et Cetera... Et Cetera... Great! Now I Gotta Pee!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWZtxbI11Pc/V0Ug_-KwzTI/AAAAAAAAAfE/nS7hRrAN1rAhVhLfNh9yk19pUCX_DOCqQCLcB/s1600/yb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oWZtxbI11Pc/V0Ug_-KwzTI/AAAAAAAAAfE/nS7hRrAN1rAhVhLfNh9yk19pUCX_DOCqQCLcB/s1600/yb.jpg" /></a></div>
About 40 years ago, the Starlight Musicals (Indy's premiere, live outdoor musical theater situated on the Butler Campus next to Hinkle Fieldhouse) was winding down its long and storied run. Much like Beef & Boards, the Indianapolis north side dinner theater which also featured former A-list stars turned touring show gypsies, Starlight faced a diminishing fan base and mounting operating costs. Beef & Boards took on new management, Starlight closed its gates.<br />
Outdoor musicals, much like outdoor movies, is an interesting breed of entertainment. While many will flock to concerts or multi-media stage shows, the outdoor musical had an eclectic fan base. Regular theatergoers would have to adapt to the experience and all that it entailed. Such an experience might seem more like attending a baseball game than a typical theatrical experience. Case in Point:<br />
1. The Weather.<br />
Not just rain, but rain outs, intermittent rain, heavy winds and delays.<br />
2. Bugs<br />
Natural or electrical (most singers were using body microphones)<br />
3. Replacements<br />
"The part of {NAME of CHARACTER in the PLAY} will be performed tonight by {NOT the STAR you paid to see}!" Starlight touring shows usually had 1 - 3 popular, if not famous talent featured in any given performance. Lose the star, bad word of mouth.<br />
4. The Weather<br />
Again. A long stretch of summer rain outs over a half decade of theatrical seasons inspired the management of Starlight to build a permanent overhang over the stage... and then one over the audience... as a way to protect the performance from the elements. Of course, rain does come down sideways... and lightning will still put a show into delay since actors are electronically wired and performing under wired stage lights. Actually... the Starlight overhang took away from the 'star light' experience... watching the stars under the stars. But I digress...<br />
This is a different story. Living only a few blocks from the Starlight Musicals and an actor myself, I was well aware of their schedules, their stars... and their least secure entryways for sneaking in.<br />
Ploy #1<br />
Ask an adventurous date to the show. Dress up and sneak in. It's good to know the ushers (usually high school buddies who could care less if you sneaked in)... just don't come into contact with one who holds a grudge or vendetta. A dressed up set of teenagers (aw... on a date!) would appear more common and hidden in plain sight than some couple caught in ragged jeans and sneakers with a pair of wire cutters.<br />
Ploy #2<br />
A new Musical arrived and set up one day ... every week ... during the run of the season. Sneak in (see ploy #1) and watch a quick run through rehearsal of the show during the set up. Many ushers were hired on these off nights to clean the audience seating area, so the place had a lot of activity that caused most productions in rehearsal to all but take no notice.<br />
Ploy #3<br />
Go with your parents. Make them pay the growing ticket price that was probably the real death knell to the whole shebang.<br />
Well! This is a story about Ploy #2! Yul Brynner was back on tour with the 'King and I'. He was middle aged, working less in film and decided to give the King of Siam another go round. He was also rumored to have cancer (he smoked like a chimney). So, if this was to be his final hurrah... I thought I'd make my own 'TADA!' ... sneak in and watch him walk through his steps of preparation before a certain sold out weekend.<br />
I was able to sneak through the back fence easy enough. No second looks from security. {Please! I'm an actor! I know my way around a theater.. and also look like a bored actor who just wanted to walk off some extra energy by getting away from the dressing room!} I touched base with a few usher friends of mine who gave me the green light to land unimpeded in the second row. And there he was The King of Siam. Even wearing a warm up suit, he was an imposing figure. He acted a few scenes. Sang a few songs. He walked through some trouble spots with the cast. And here I was... sitting in the second row.. wide eyed... taking it all in as a fan... an actor... a future direcrtor/producer.....THEN... IT HAPPENED...<br />
Just when you think the planets have aligned... that your plan is foolproof... and there are no flies in the ointment... the flies arrive. All of a sudden I am surrounded by ushers. They are sneaking beers... and cigarettes. And... they're talking amongst themselves in such a way I was certain that I would soon to be thrown out, if not arrested, for trespassing.<br />
AND THEN... Yul Brynner stops the rehearsal. He walks to the front of the stage and explains to this unruly throng ... and the stars in the sky... that this was not a performance... and that the entire theater was to be cleared! The old King of Siam could not have given a more direct order! So, I sheepishly rise from my center stage, 2nd row perch to try to amble out anonymously... when I am stopped... by YUL BRYNER!<br />
Yul Brynner looks at me directly... knowing how I was taking all this in with wide eyed wonder.. and he says "YOU! YOU MAY STAY!" I dropped down into my seat immediately... amid the cat calls and rumblings from my now departing usher friends. I was given a gift from Yul Brynner. I was given the opportunity to watch a full scale production come up to speed.. during the set up in a new town. The same knowledge I would use as a director/producer years later with a production company I started after college. I saw Yul Brynner laugh at some dialogue mistakes. I heard him sing and perform to an audience of one. AND...<br />
I had to pee.<br />
One of the greatest theatrical opportunities of a lifetime and Mother Nature is punching me in the bladder. But... I can't go to the bathroom... I was given a pass! A magic ticket! One most theatergoers would give their eye tooth to experience... and all the while my molars were floating. I stayed as long as I could.. then I could stand it no more.<br />
I gave the King a gracious nod and ducked out using a back escape route... taking time out behind one of Butler's beautiful fir trees... off for home.<br />
I have told that story quite a few times over the years... not to brag... much. I believe the moral to the story was that when you are so engrossed in something... something for which you hold so much passion... most people attuned to the situation can read it... and open an avenue for you to take it all in. I can only express... don't drink a 44oz Big Gulp before you find yourself in that situation.<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-36125116995108481602016-05-20T19:43:00.002-07:002016-08-02T05:13:13.602-07:00The Relationship is Ending... I Hear Ringing!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qrp2lOgi2Z8/Vz_JGp3jw8I/AAAAAAAAAek/oq2Xs9mewWQS3Pxg3JIjvQg-qDof9_EiwCLcB/s1600/jo42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qrp2lOgi2Z8/Vz_JGp3jw8I/AAAAAAAAAek/oq2Xs9mewWQS3Pxg3JIjvQg-qDof9_EiwCLcB/s320/jo42.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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When a couple breaks up the result leads to situations that tend to become quite delicate. Will I still be able to face her/his friends? Will my family support my decision? How did I learn to put that long list of expletives together, so eloquently, when I last called to tell them how I really felt?<br />
<br />
Breaking up is a time bomb. And we all end up at ground zero at some point.<br />
<br />
So imagine that the relationship was a nice pool of water.Like a pond or that baby pool you inherited from a neighborlady because she thought the kids would like it, but you would have preferred to see your partner in it
with you wrestling in jello. But now you have dropped a stone in that pool. It causes a ripple effect. Many of outgoing rings represent where you are during the break up.<br />
<br />
Ground zero... It's over for one of you...or both! But it has reached finality!<br />
Ring one... Why? Oh dear God! Why? You cry out! I am worthless, my life is over! I will never find anyone. I will be alone!<br />
Ring two... Screw them! I am better than them! I will show them!<br />
Ring three... No more relationships I will build myself into a new person.<br />
Ring four... Time to self destruct. Drink, gamble, shop or eat.<br />
Ring five... Recovery through friends, family or cheap meaningless affairs! Yay!<br />
Ring six... Ah...screw it! It wasn't worth it.<br />
Ring seven... What's on TV<br />
Ring eight .... I need new stuff. Including a worthless dating relationship that will end when I want.<br />
Ring nine... {Yawn!} Everyone you know is bored with your story.Time to get a joke book, go to or better yet hold a party and be the same old...er...improved you.<br />
Ring 10... You see your ex and are able to say a civil hello. Wish them the best... and then later...call their new partner and ask for the name of that herpes preventative cream your partner was using. Just kidding.<br />
<br />
RING 10... You start to forget their name, pet peeves,
<br />
and why you broke up in the first place and you have resolved the nonsense.<br />
<br />
Want
monogamy? Marry a Swan! OK let's look at these two scenarios. Men used to love
Pam Anderson. She was like a Barbie doll come to life. Women loved the
movie Pretty Woman. So... do men like the fantasy of being with a stripper
and women love the fairy tale that a rich man will save them? Pam Anderson
is a plastic Hollywood icon. Julia Roberts played a whore. But given the
chance a man WOULD run away with from any home situation with Pam
Anderson and a boatload of her income.. And women WOULD take a rich
businessman/Richard Gere saving them and leave their partner at the drop
of a hat! Written while tongue is securely in cheek!<br />
<br />
The Wizard of Oz said hearts were made to be broken.
But then again the Tin Man was pretty much a play toy himself.
So enjoy yourself... your time off from relationships... because you
will be starting a new one soon enough ...and the process starts all over again!<br />
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mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4245940487091632029.post-40908583208144895572016-05-17T17:08:00.002-07:002016-08-02T05:13:27.617-07:00My Top Ten Favorite Dangerous Toys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gXL0bNoADu8/VzujKctlAzI/AAAAAAAAAb8/iEdUQcVs8_QX3_MW4v2J377zYokv3pbpACLcB/s1600/11a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gXL0bNoADu8/VzujKctlAzI/AAAAAAAAAb8/iEdUQcVs8_QX3_MW4v2J377zYokv3pbpACLcB/s1600/11a.jpg" /></a></div>
Most of us can remember our childhood, but in the PC (protect children) world of today... where playgrounds are rubber matted, rounded cornered and quality tested... it would take a whole lot to sustain the same stupid injuries we had back in the hey day of toys! The hey day for toys? 1957 - 1971. When anything could and would be possible. All hail Frisbees, hula hoops and balsa wood gliders, but... how about using a hot plate to mold creepy bugs? Or a light bulb to bake a cake? Or tossing a feather tailed dagger across the yard as a horseshoe? Most of my favorite toys of that era are no longer for sale... or they now come in a quality tested shape or form. Alas, take the fear out of the toy... get bored easier!<br />
<br />
1. JARTS or Lawn Darts (See picture above)<br />
Danger Factor: Player being careless, drunk, immature and firing a Jart at an opposing player.<br />
Hurt Factor: Blood. Contusion. Possible bandaging. Hospital visit. Loss of eye or worse. Death.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-APKLPacPRUM/Vzumg5_JtcI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/qOTLbWvAHv8rOB1KYl5BxGd5lHk6eOrAwCLcB/s1600/jo30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-APKLPacPRUM/Vzumg5_JtcI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/qOTLbWvAHv8rOB1KYl5BxGd5lHk6eOrAwCLcB/s1600/jo30.jpg" /></a></div>
2. CLACKERS (in actuality, a South American Bolo Weapon)<br />
Danger Factor: Player can catch another person in face or mouth. Hit own self. Catch a small animal or deer.<br />
Hurt Factor: Broken bones. Missing teeth. Contusion. Strangulation. Concussion.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j527HONwbUo/VzungsEUqII/AAAAAAAAAcY/avNkINPkpVkmarUHSoliOLJXBdEFTpfsQCLcB/s1600/jo31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j527HONwbUo/VzungsEUqII/AAAAAAAAAcY/avNkINPkpVkmarUHSoliOLJXBdEFTpfsQCLcB/s320/jo31.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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3. CREEPY CRAWLERS (the hot plate, plastic bug maker)<br />
Danger Factor: A hot plate electric burner melts plastic into forms. Melted plastic. Hot burner.<br />
Hurt Factor: Skin burns. 2nd - 3rd degree burns. Run to the doctor or emergency room!<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K7AZN66fGTg/Vzuol38lfYI/AAAAAAAAAcg/9t0a_6uqfGkzCt9ZzwFA9tgHW38kkt2AQCLcB/s1600/jo33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K7AZN66fGTg/Vzuol38lfYI/AAAAAAAAAcg/9t0a_6uqfGkzCt9ZzwFA9tgHW38kkt2AQCLcB/s1600/jo33.jpg" /></a></div>
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4. The WHAM-O Super Ball (Hard rubber, high bouncing ball)<br />
Danger Factor: No clear bounce path. Bounces into traffic. Breaks furniture and windows.<br />
Hurt Factor: Welts. Scraped knees crawling to retrieve it under a car. Death after chasing it into traffic.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eMH5V7aUp4Y/Vzuq0yReieI/AAAAAAAAAcs/Vw0J82T7in0WYCaE-fPIrV78TzX8FmVHgCLcB/s1600/jo34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eMH5V7aUp4Y/Vzuq0yReieI/AAAAAAAAAcs/Vw0J82T7in0WYCaE-fPIrV78TzX8FmVHgCLcB/s1600/jo34.jpg" /></a></div>
5. EASY BAKE OVEN (Hot light bulb oven)<br />
Danger Factor: Hot light bulb<br />
Hurt Factor: Burned fingers. Stomach ache.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JEjQjL3j_4Y/VzurrDHoefI/AAAAAAAAAc8/7uAAm85shM4nScejDd63BMvHzXu6RxvhACLcB/s1600/jo35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JEjQjL3j_4Y/VzurrDHoefI/AAAAAAAAAc8/7uAAm85shM4nScejDd63BMvHzXu6RxvhACLcB/s320/jo35.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
6. TRAMPOLINE<br />
Danger Factor: Sold as exercise equipment, the more comfortable you are with it the more dangerous it becomes.<br />
Hurt Factor: Broken bones. Sprains. Tears. Hospital.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wc3DiZvF9RM/Vzus_tOWOAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/raL5nhtareAC2Ens2z4jUm9Y7Gue7iGlgCLcB/s1600/jo36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wc3DiZvF9RM/Vzus_tOWOAI/AAAAAAAAAdI/raL5nhtareAC2Ens2z4jUm9Y7Gue7iGlgCLcB/s1600/jo36.jpg" /></a></div>
7. SLIP 'N SLIDE<br />
Danger Factor: A wet strip of plastic. Hard ground.<br />
Hurt Factor: Sprains. Tears. Broken bones. Concussion. Skin burn.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uoW879T17fk/VzuuMSXviUI/AAAAAAAAAdY/mrrjVN-KkX0dUPZCRJ1qvv50nFGvV_zyACLcB/s1600/jo36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<br />
8. POGO STICK<br />
Danger Factor: (Notice how the Pogo stick looks like a crutch? Nuff said!)<br />
Hurt Factor: Falling. Fracture. Tear. Sprains. Broken bones.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jWhzCTybvvY/VzuwCV3CC_I/AAAAAAAAAds/yshamDTHr6cZbXGZ_4DQCZUszvNGBm3YgCLcB/s1600/jo38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jWhzCTybvvY/VzuwCV3CC_I/AAAAAAAAAds/yshamDTHr6cZbXGZ_4DQCZUszvNGBm3YgCLcB/s320/jo38.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
9. COX GAS POWERED AIRPLANE<br />
Danger Factor: Spinning around with gas powered toy on a tether.<br />
Hurt Factor: Finger burns. Skin abrasion. Vertigo.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-585Ck6j1aJw/VzuxVYYbtvI/AAAAAAAAAeA/EplBJsQEu6Emjw2nifI0c81PoZRo8VcoQCLcB/s1600/jo39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-585Ck6j1aJw/VzuxVYYbtvI/AAAAAAAAAeA/EplBJsQEu6Emjw2nifI0c81PoZRo8VcoQCLcB/s320/jo39.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>
10. MODEL ROCKET KIT<br />
Danger Factor: Bored with bottle rockets? Create this easy made science project and parachute your space vehicle into a tree or neighbor's roof!<br />
Hurt Factor: Burns. Scrapes. Wallet.<br />
<br />
Now there are Honorable Mentions like skateboards, roller skates, BB Guns and the like, but they all seem readily available in this day and age. Our list may consist of items no longer sold in toy stores, they were dangerous... but they were fun! Note: Most of these toys are now sold in child safe versions. Alas!<br />
<br />
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<br />mjferruzzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06761903391749499489noreply@blogger.com0