'Age' Doesn't Matter, When You Want to 'Rock'

If you’ve ever been on a car trip with me, or if you’ve ever been with me at a bar when I’ve dropped five bucks into the jukebox; then you’ve got a very good idea of the kind of music I love. If you’re not lucky enough to know already, let me inform you: Anything from the 1980s and 1990s. Musically, my biggest regret in life was not being of age – or born yet, for that matter – to attend Woodstock. My second regret, would be the fact that I was too young to actually enjoy and appreciate the big hair metal bands and the pop-filled sappy love ballads of the eighties. Perhaps its an attempt to make up for that missed opportunity, that I constantly rock out to those iconic tracks, from some bands that I have really come to love.

In May of last year, I was in Boston hanging out with two of my NYC Theatre-savvy friends McNear and Samantha, when they told me about a show that they had just seen on Broadway, and that they knew was perfect for me. This was the first day that I had ever heard about “Rock of Ages”. When I finally got home, I made sure to get my hands on the album, and just from looking at the track list, I knew I was going to love what I was about to listen to. Well, let me honest, I didn’t love it. Not the first time, and not the second or third. I loved the songs, but the problem was that I couldn’t sing along with them because of the fact that they cut pieces from songs together and they changed keys and lyrics to fit together. Now, I enjoyed the creativeness of what they were trying to do, but it just made it hard to enjoy – because it was different from what I had been used to for so many years. Over time, I learned to like the album, but I never loved it.

Enter the Broadway Across America production of “Rock of Ages” at Clowes Memorial Hall. Seeing this production live changes everything, and I mean everything. So much is visually lost on the album, that I felt like I was seeing a completely different show. Of course, I had done my homework when listening to the album, and I knew the basic storyline that I was supposed to be trying to follow, while listening to all of these great songs spliced together into an attempt at a storyline.

I’m going to be honest, the plot of “Rock of Ages” is nothing to be praised. It’s simple. A small town girl, comes to Los Angeles in the 80s, meets boy, multiple misunderstandings keep boy and girl from getting together, boy and girl go separate ways, boy and girl finally get together. Let’s be honest, you already knew it was coming. The plot isn’t why you’re going to see this show; you’re coming for the music and performances, and the hope to be swept into a world of fond memories. The best thing about “Rock of Ages” is the fact that it doesn’t take itself seriously at all, it’ just a good, fun, rocking time to be had be the entire audience, as well as the cast who do a marvelous job of interacting with the audience during moments of well-played improvisation. You can’t expect too much seriousness from a show filled with ‘poop jokes’ and ‘no deep or complex characters’. I also shouldn’t forget to mention the STD jokes, numerous sex gags, wine coolers, jazz hands, and the perfect example of “The Friend Zone Trap” – all of these things are used in some genius comic manner. To further illustrate my point, as you walk into the show, they randomly hand out LED faux-lighters to guests, and throughout the show I saw a sea of LED, true flames, and cell phones being held up and waved to and fro.

The two most notable things about the show are these. First, all of the music is played live, on stage, by a four-piece band. No orchestra pit, no recordings. Instead, they put four very talented musicians in the background of the production, where you can watch them the entire time. It was great to see them get their moment in the spotlight, after the entire cast took their bow, it was a nice jam session for them on stage. The second thing about this show, is the fact that for the majority of the time, the background singers and dancers are girls walking around in bras and panties, for the most part. These backups are either cocktailers in The Bourbon Room, or strippers at The Venus Club. I can’t lie, when I say that their table/bar/pole/lap dancing provided some of the best eye-candy of any stage production I’ve ever witnessed. I felt like I was at a PG-Rated Kid Rock concert.

I don’t know if there was a better seat in the house, but I really enjoyed sitting where I did, as I was blessed to be in the row behind a group of mid-to-late fifty-something women. I knew I was going to enjoy my seats, when during the opening number Poison’s “Nothin’ But a Good Time” began playing and all six of these women started bouncing up and down in their seats. Moments later, when some of the dancers got up on the bar top and began dancing, I could tell from the looks that they all gave each other – that these women had been there before, in their youth. The appeared age-appropriate to have partied hard with their perms and neon clothing at a number of questionable dive bars three decades ago. Needless to say, their chair dancing and hooting/hollering didn’t stop with the opening number. This particular group of women were also in the large group of women who I felt were serenading me during Extreme’s “More Than Words” (which is wonderfully spliced together with Warrant’s “Heaven” and Mr. Big’s “To Be With You”).

Coming from the New Media/Digital Arts background that I once pursued, I’m always a fan of the integration of new media techniques into stage productions. “Rock of Ages” utilizes a collection of jumbo-LED screens above the stage to help convey various modes, tones, and settings for the production. I was originally captivated during the duet of STYX’s “Too Much Time on My Hands”, when a character on stage was on the telephone and interacting with the character on the video screen. In later scenes, like Foreigner’s “Waiting for a Girl Like You”, the screen is used to show the streets of the city while Boy and Girl are driving, and once they reach their destination, it has a beautiful overlook of the City of Angels at nighttime. The lighting of the backdrop and the images on the video screens are a perfect piece of the show that does a wonderful job of setting the mood for each scene.

While it’s former “American Idol” star Constantine Maroulis who gets top-billing and plays the “boy” of the plot, I personally believe the entire show is held together by the Shakespearean style narration of Lonny, played in this production by very memorable Patrick Lewallen (http://www.patricklewallen.com). Truth be told, it’s Lonny’s constant breaking of the fourth wall to engage the audience, that keeps the plot moving from time to time. His ability to humorously pop in and out of scenes to provide comedic commentary are also one of the highlights of the show. You’re sure to laugh when he pops into a scene with the line, “Yes, you did”.

I haven’t watched any of “American Idol” since the second season, so I really have no familiarity with Constantine, aside from hear a lot about him. If Justin Bieber has all of the little teens going crazy, then after last night, I can only imagine that Constantine is the Bieber for forty-something women, because they were all going crazy for him from the minute he walked on stage, and every single time he played the audience, it was to massive “oohs” and “yelps” from the cougars in the audience. All I had ever seen was the media hype, and now I will be the first to admit that Constantine proved me wrong in my preconceived notions of him. I expected him to come out into the show and demand to be the center of attention. Within the first minute of the show, I realized that he was perfectly fit to play the quite, shy, loveable loser made popular in almost every John Hughes film. Constantine was cool, he did a great job evolving the character of Drew from an insecure struggling musician, to a corporate sell-out, back to a pizza delivery boy.

Seeing how I consider Steve Perry one of the greatest vocalists of my lifetime, I have always loved the inclusion of “Oh, Sherrie” in the production, and naming the lead female after this song was a treat. In this production, Elicia Mackenzie does a wonderful job with the transformation of a sweet and innocent little girl, into a reluctant stripper. Visually, Elicia rocks the stage when she gets the ever-clichéd opportunity to dance on the hood of a car. Vocally, Elicia is constantly great, however at the conclusion of Pat Benatar’s “Shadows of the Night” she really lets go and sound phenomenal.

The most flamboyantly entertaining character in the entire production is Franz, who was played by Travis Walker in this tour. I don’t even know where to begin describing how enjoyable this character was. As funny as Lonny is, I have to say that Franz steals the show in every scene he is in. Franz is the centerpiece of the greatest moment in the entire production, during the singing of Pat Benatar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” – which from the uproarious amount of laughter, the entire audience agrees with me. But, brace yourself, because less than ten minutes later you’re going to be enjoying some more over-the-top Franz. Without a doubt, Franz has the greatest dance moves throughout the entire show. Travis Walker has some serious skills in that department.

The show also includes a great pair of hippies, still hanging around in the eighties. Dennis Dupree is the owner of The Bourbon Room, and was played by Nick Cordero to a stoner’s perfection. Dennis and Lonnie have one of the best duets, when they sing REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” to each other – complete with photo montage on the video screen. Casey Tuma played the role of Regina, who is originally introduced as working for the corrupt mayor, only to end up as the leader of the protestors trying to prevent the demolition of The Bourbon Room. Her spunky attitude brings loads of comedy to the majority of her scenes.

I’m honestly curious how many hours of Bret Michaels footage was watched by Patrick Deiwick to create such a perfect rendition of him for the sex-crazed alcoholic douchebag antagonist of the production, Stacee Jaxx. Because from the minute the cowboy hat and tight pants strut onto the stage, it’s a perfect representation of everything I’ve ever seen of Bret Michaels. At this moment, not many of Stacee’s musical numbers are coming back to me, however a lot of his stage presence is. I remember the large number of gags he’s involved in, and his bathroom seduction of the starry-eyed Sherrie during Foreigner’s “I Want to Know What Love Is” is very enjoyable, and well played between the two of them.

I remember a few years back, when certain people were making claims about “crowd noise” being pumped into the RCA Dome. Had those people been at Clowes Memorial Hall last night, they most likely would have made the same asinine claims during the show’s finale, because it got LOUD. As the first few notes of Journey’s most popular bar song began to play, it was enough to get the entire audience on their feet, clapping, and singing along to “Don’t Stop Believin’”. It really made the finale feel like you were actually at a rock concert, and not a musical production.

Have you been paying attention to all of the name dropping that I’ve been doing in this review?
Poison, Extreme, Warrant, Mr. Big, STYX, Foreigner, Steve Perry, Pat Benatar, REO Speedwagon, and Journey. Well, let me just drop a few more from the show: Night Ranger, Damn Yankees, Whitesnake, Starship, Twisted Sister, Bon Jovi, and Asia. Aside from this show, and my iPod, I’m not sure where anyone can hear all of this great music together.

If you are looking for an amazingly fun and entertaining time, then you have to check this musical out. It’s one of the best times I’ve ever had going to the theatre. If you're older, you'll have a great time remember high school and college and rocking out to these songs in their prime.  If you're my age, you'll have fond memories from growing up and catching the coattails of the rock era.  And if you're a young thing, then you'll get the chance to be exposed to some of the greatest music you'll ever hear, and hopefully it'll gateway you into listening to more of this music.
 
If you haven’t heard the album, then I suggest you do yourself a favor, and go into the show now knowing what to expect, and soak in the entire experience first. Having now seen the production, I can say that it will make listening to the album much more enjoyable, as I’m reminded of the sight gags and character nuances that I was previously unaware of.  The only thing missing from the show is The Outfield's "Your Love". Now, please excuse me, I'd like to get my face melted, again.

A Few Days Late

Jason told me I needed to set a reminder on my phone, but I forgot, and now I am ten days late with this post.

Castleton Arts has been closed for FIVE years (and ten days) now.

Here is the article I wrote the first day I couldn't go visit the theatre.

It chronicles a lot of my experience there, the people I met, the films I shot there, and the premiere of "Consternate". It' pretty emotional reading, and lots of memories for me. I'm glad I've got this blog to go back to.

Broke 50,000

After publishing CHAPTER 22 tonight, the words count for the novel has surpassed 50,000. In November, NaNoWriMo tries to get people to write 50,000 words in one month. It's taken me eight months!!! Oh well, it's all good.

Lots of story still to unfold, so I believe I will easily hit my personal goal of 120,000 words.

It feels so good to be writing again.

More and More Science Fiction

Spent three hours writing Chapter 8.
I don't know how 7 and 8 could ever have been one chapter?
Longest chapter to date, I broke 3,000 words.
I like it, looking forward to getting the next few chapters written.

I think I might write the Epilogue soon, just so I never forget what I want it to accomplish. If I have to alter it a little bit later, that's fine. I'm afraid somehow I'll forget what I want to do.

Anyways, READ CHAPTER 8.

My Dream Cast

If you're reading my novel, "Perfect Life For Large Price", I wanted to give you the ability to visualize my characters the same way that I visualize them in my head, while I'm writing. So, I've put together my "dream cast", which are the people that I would attempt to cast in a film version of my story, and it's who and how I see each of my characters while I'm writing the story in my head. So, to help you see the vision that I see, I'm giving you my physical incarnations of my characters.


Henry Ian Cusick as David Monroe.
Yep, I never knew who he was until the second season of "Lost", but since then, I've seen him take the character of Desmond in hundreds of different directions with a huge array of emotions and amazing moments of acting.

And throughout the show, he's shown the ability to look different by simply changing his hair style and/or shaving. Something that will be utilized when David crosses into his other world.


Hugo Weaving as Noah Coleman.
I have to be honest, this is who I had envisioned when I started writing the story, but the fact that he's now be cast as The Red Skull really kind of hurts my vision of him when I'm writing. I love his voice, I love his charisma, I think he's perfect. I'll probably continue to try to write with him in mind, because I can't think of anyone I'd want to replace him with. He's a little younger than Noah is supposed to be, but I'd like to see him with some grey streaks in his hair.


Drea de Matteo as Andrea 'Drea' Crowe-Monroe.
Heck, I named the character after her because I could only picture her in the role. When I first became away of her in "Swordfish" and "Deuce's Wild", I was taken back by how hot she was. It wasn't until "Assault on Precinct 13" that I thought she could actually support a movie, and it showed me she can handle her own in an action role. I also recently watched a film called "Broken English" and got to see her in a very dramatic role, couple that with her small arc on "Sons of Anarchy" and I love what I see from her. And she's gorgeous.


Andrea Parker as Amanda Wilson-Monroe.
Truth be told, I've only sparingly seen her in anything since she played Miss Parker on "The Pretender", but that role has stuck in my head for almost twenty years. She's got a look about her, and the sarcastic feisty attitude that Miss Parker had was so perfect. She would perfectly be able to transition between sweet/sassy to angry/irate.


Sebastian Roché as Dominic McKenzie.
You know the face, but you probably will have trouble placing it. I had never known him until the TV movie, "24: Redemption", and then the seventh season of "24" when he played a mercenary in both. Then, I caught him on "Fringe", and really liked him. I was then introduced to "Odyssey 5", and realized that he wasn't just a good actor, but a great one. He'd be perfect to play the detective who Drea hires to look into what happens to David.

Wesley Snipes as Quentin Hooper.
I know he's become the King of Direct-to-Video in recent years, but I have always liked the guy. He has a good resume of decent films that I watched while I was growing up. The character of Quentin becomes important in David's other world, as they were high school friends who played basketball together. Looking at "White Men Can't Jump", I believe he's got that character trait covered. And when David asks for his help to go to war against The Centre, I can see Blade (or one of his many other action roles) coming to his aide.


So, there you have it. Those are the people I envision when I write this story. I hope it helps.

Chapter 7 was supposed to have a lot more going on in it, but once I came close to 3,000 words, I decided to break it up into another chapter. So, Chapter 8 should be pretty easy to write tomorrow, since I planned on the events being included in Chapter 7.

Ready For Some Sci-Fi?

Are you tired of all the lovey-dovey-romantic crap I've been writing about these past few chapters?

Please believe when I say it's important to character development, and events that will happen later.

But, now it's time to begin the sci-fi fun, starting with the basic explanation of what The Centre has to offer.

READ CHAPTER SEVEN.

Perfect Life For Large Price: Chapter 1

Noah Coleman was good at his job. He didn't enjoy his job, but he was good at it. There is a very large level of discretion involved in his line of work. Noah is probably one of the hundred smartest people on the planet, and he ended up in this job by chance. When he was much younger, he attended Harvard for four years, followed by another six years at Oxford. It was during his time at Oxford where he met his flatmate, and eventually close friend, Desmond Patterson who would later turn out to be his boss. Noah was probably more intelligent that Desmond, but it was the Patterson name and family history that provided the funding and ability for the men to do the things that they have been able to do.

Noah sipped on his coffee as he watched the second hand tick, tick, tick around the clock in the room. Today was a special day. Today was an eventful day. Most days were pretty boring, aside from the ones when he got to meet with potential clients. On an average day in the office, Noah spent his time reading report after report that his employees assembled for him. These reports were biographies on various millionaires in the world. These are not just any biography, they are extremely detailed lists of every major event in their lives. These major events were the selling points that Noah would use, if he decided any of these people were worth moving to the next level.

But today was an "event day" as they referred to them in the office. A client had already been approached, and an offer had already been made. The client had accepted the offer, and The Centre had already received payment. Noah remembered in the early days, when Desmond used to come down and witness the events. By this time, they had done so many successfully that it no longer interested Desmond, he just wanted the money deposited and didn't want to get up in the middle of the night to deal with things, he valued his sleep too much.

Noah valued his sleep too, but he had no choice. This was his job. Luckily, he had a very large and very comfortable couch in his office and would be taking a long nap in about fifteen minutes. The second hand moved upward and meet the minute hand at the twelve. The hour hand was sitting at the four, and Noah took one last sip of his coffee before he stood up, straightened his tie, picked up a glass of water and left his office. He took the elevator up to the lobby and met today's event: Nick Webber.

Nick Webber was a multimillionaire. Twenty-four hours earlier he was in his ocean-side mansion in Miami, sitting on hi massive deck, overlooking the flowing water in the moonlight. He had three beautiful naked women with him, and large amounts of alcohol and drugs in his system. Nick had been divorced three times, and never really loved any of the women he was married to. He was the heir to a Texas oil company, and never really had to work a day in his life. He had some serious regrets in his life, and by this point realized that he was an epic failure to his parents and grandparents. Nick had decided it was time to change his life, but he wanted one last night of debauchery before he made the life-changing choice that he did.

Noah shook Nick's hand and said, "Mr. Webber, are you ready to change your life?"

Nick nodded his head. Noah took a capsule out of his pocket, and handed it to Nick, along with the glass of water, "I just need you to swallow this for me."

Noah and Nick walked to the elevator, and proceeded back down to the fourth level of the basement. Noah had two offices in this tower that sat at the corner of 39th Street and 7th Avenue. One was on the top floor, where he could easily look down 7th and see the busy lives of thousands of tourists heading in and out of Times Square. His second office was four floors below the streets of New York City.

"I'm still a little confused why we're doing this at four in the morning." Nick stated, almost in a question form.

"Trust me Mr. Webber, we've got our reasons, and we know what we're doing," was the response Noah gave him.

"You've really done this before, right? You're not just pulling my leg? Or trying to rob me, are you?"

Noah was still a little tired, and now a little annoyed. He didn't feel like answering the moronic questions, so he just remained silent. This didn't ease Nick's anxiety, and he began talking more and more, to the ire of Noah. The elevator ride felt three times longer than it should have. The door finally opened, and Noah walked as quickly as he could out into the long hallways, with its bland white walls and bright fluorescent lights. Nick trailed behind him, mumbling to himself.

As annoyed as Noah was, this was not the worst client he had even had, and he prayed that Nick wouldn't end up vomiting all over the nice walls and floor, like Mrs. Dennison had done a few months earlier. Suddenly, Noah only heard one set of footsteps, and he stopped to turn around and see Nick frozen, as if he'd seen a ghost.

"I don't know if I can do this..."

Noah rolled his eyes and walked back towards to his client to give him this word of advice, "Mr. Webber, we already have your money. We've told you it's non-refundable. You made this commitment. You walked into my office and you told me that you felt like your life was waste, and that you had disappointed everyone in your family for not taking an interest in your family business, and instead chose to spend thirty years blowing money on women, booze, and drugs. I remember the look in your eyes when you told me that you wanted me to change your life, and make you something that your family would respect."

Noah paused for a second, and looked Nick in the eyes.

"If you don't come with me, and allow me to do what you've paid me for, then you're just going to go back to the pathetically wasted life that you have. I remember the look of shame in your eyes, and I've got a horrible feeling that if I don't make your life better, you will eventually put a gun to your head and end your self-loathing of this embarrassment of a life that you live."

Another pause, just for more dramatic effect. Noah knew the next punch he was going to take, and it was going to be a whopper. At this point, Noah almost wanted to see if he could make this man cry. Sadly for Noah, he wasn't going to get the chance.

"You're right. Thank you. Let's do this."

The two sets of footsteps were once again going down the hallway, and eventually reached the door to The Chamber. Noah opened the door and ushered Nick in. There were three employees sitting at various computer stations surrounding a circular platform with wires running to three poles that were on various sides of the stand.

One of the employees walked up to Nick and took him by the arm, moving him towards the platform, "Please just stand in the middle and be as still as possible."

"Is there any preparations or anything?" Questioned Nick.

"Sir, we've done all the prep work that was needed, all we need now is for your to stand perfectly still, and open your mind".

The employee, Ridley, ran back over to his computer and started punching away at buttons.

Nick stood on the platform and scanned the rather vapid room. There was nothing aside from the platform, poles, and computers. With every passing second, Nick became more and more scared. Then he heard some type of electric humming sound, and it got louder and louder. Suddenly, hi head began to feel very light, as if his skull was getting bigger and taking any and all pressure off of his brain. He tried to open his eyes, but they had fallen closed and he seemed to have no control over them anymore, it was just darkness as the humming got louder and louder, and then Nick heard a sound so piercingly high-pitched that it honestly felt like his eardrum exploded. At that exact same second, all the darkness Nick was seeing was replaced with an intense white light, so intense that it felt like he was starring directly at the surface of the sun. It felt like his eyes were melting.

And then it was over.

Nick's body collapsed on the platform.

Noah looked at Ridley, who gave him a nod.

Nick was obviously disoriented and confused, "Where am I? Hello? I can't see anything..." Nick repeated these phrases a few times, as he propped himself up, and eventually sat on the platform, waving his right hand around in front of him, and using his left hand to rub his eyes.

When Noah finally got to the platform, he starred down at Nick's confused body. This was the discreet part of his job that he hated the most.

Noah pulled out his 9mm Beretta 92FS from under his jacket and put one single bullet into the skull of Nick Webber.

As the three employees walked over to the body, Noah Coleman headed out of the room, and towards his office. It was time to take a nap before he had to go up to his other office.

The Best Sixty-Nine Years

John Brown found himself sitting in his favorite chair, in his living room. He looked around at all the picture frames on the walls, and the digital photograph thing that his kids had gotten them for Christmas a few years earlier. As hundreds of photos transitioned between each other, John found himself lost in a reflective state of mind. Somewhere in the vast time of remembrance, a tear formulated itself and traveled down the grooves of John's face. It was the first of thousands of tears that he was about to begin to lose. Each individual tear carrying another memory with it. While the rest of his family was upstairs, hosting their memorial event, John just wanted to get away and spend some quality alone time with the memory of the woman of his dreams.

It had only been six hours since his wife, Anna, had been placed into the earth.

Six days before that, John had rushed Anna to the hospital in the middle of the night. She was complaining of serve pains in her abdominal area.

It was only two years before that when Anna had to rush John to the hospital, when he collapsed in their back yard while trying to pull weeds from her garden. It was John's third heart attack, and once again he barely made it through.

Earlier that year was a huge milestone for John and Anna, they became great-great grandparents, when their 16-year old great-granddaughter, Amanda, gave birth a child. It came with a lot of controversy, and many in the extended family were very upset with her, and her father - Brandon. But, despite the attitudes and the feelings, everyone came together when he was born, and welcomed another generation into their family. John and Anna felt so old, when they took a family portrait with five generations together.

Two years earlier, John and Anna celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary. Despite being such a huge milestone, and the grandness of their previous anniversaries, they decided that they wanted something smaller this time. They rented out a local reception hall, and had the entire family get together. Over the many years, their small mid-western family had expanded to all extremes of the country. One of their sons, James was in San Fransisco. One of their grandchildren was living in Alaska. One of their great-grandchildren was going to school in New York City. Many other members were scattered all across the United States. Some had moved for school, some had moved for jobs, and other had moved for love. All John and Anna wanted was for everyone to come back together to celebrate, and almost everyone made it. The only person who wasn't in attendance was Jackson, James' son, who was in Afghanistan at the time.

Five years earlier was September 11th, and after the attacks, John and Anna were so afraid to find out that Jackson was being sent over to Iraq. The first of three trips that he would eventually take to the Middle East. The Brown family was a life long military family, and Jackson was the fourth generation to serve, but only the second to actually see war firsthand. While John was proud of his grandson, he constantly worried for him. The art of war had evolved significantly since his time, and he was very concerned for Jackson's safety. Because of this, Jackson would write home to his grandfather three times more often than he would write to his own mother. Jackson always looked up to his grandfather, and as a child, he would sit and listen to him tell war stories for hours at a time. These stories had a great influence on him, and Jackson never forgot how important John was to him.

One year earlier had been John's second heart attack, the worst one. Every member of the family feared the phone ringing, for it may carry the horrific news. It took the better part of six months, and lots of rehabilitation, but John eventually seemed to recover completely. During this entire time, Anna was always at his side. But this was really nothing different from every other day of their lives. Since the day they were married, Anna never again had a paid job in her life. Family was her job. She was the model they used for the Stepford Wives. She had breakfast on the table at 6:30am, and dinner was always hot and ready at 5:00pm. The laundry was done twice a week. The kids had brown sack lunches ready every day. Anna always joked about the taxi services she offered. Between the three children, there was Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, basketball practice, soccer practice, volleyball practice, theatre rehearsals, church functions, and time spent working on their uncle's farm. It was a busy life, but it was the life Anna wanted, and making her family as happy as possible was the only thing she ever cared about. Joe knew he was a lucky man, and he never took his wife granted. So, after so many years of back massages, foot rubs, fancy dinners, flowers, and love letters; it was finally Anna's turn to take care of her husband. It humbled John, who always believed it was his job and his responsibility to protect Anna.

Four years before that second heart attack was the fiftieth anniversary of John and Anna's marriage. For this milestone, they finally took their Hawaiian vacation. James, Aaron, and Julie grew up hearing their parents talk about their desire to visit Hawaii. John was a avid military enthusiast, and visited almost every battlefield in North America, including Queenston Heights, Chatham (Ontario), Palo Alto, Resaca de la Palma, Veracruz, Salt River Canyon, Fort Sumter, and Gettysburg, of course. Many summer vacations were spent taking his children on long road trips to various small towns and open fields and giving them history lessons along the way. So, when John and Anna announced that they were finally planning their trip to Hawaii, their children spared no expense to make sure that it was the trip of a lifetime. Pooling their money and resources, the Brown children set their parents up with a ten-day vacation as an anniversary present. The vacation included stops on all four islands, and every possible historical tour that a person could take. Standing in the observation memorial for the USS Arizona was the most surreal experience that John had in years. The moment brought uncontrolled tears to his eyes, as he thought about the three friends he had whose final resting spot was directly below where he was standing. One was a family friend whom he only knew socially, but the other two were boys he grew up in the same neighborhood with, who just happen to be two years older than him, and had enlisted as soon as they graduated high school. John remembered the days before they left for Honolulu, and how excited they were to be serving their country. As a 17-year old senior, John was jealous and couldn't wait for that to be him. He was already registered, an just waiting to turn eighteen and graduate, and then he would be on his way. Less than six months later, two of his childhood friends would be dead.

Four years earlier, John and Anna welcomed their first great-grandchild into the world, when Aaron's oldest son, Brandon and his wife gave birth to their daughter Amanda. The elderly couple had to make a long trip to Richmond, Virginia to visit the newest generation of the Brown Family. As John held Amanda is his arms, Brandon asked, "Grandpa, will you tell her about the wars in this area?" As John began talking about the battle at Proctor's Creek, Brandon got nostalgic and he remembered when he was growing up, and listened to his grandfather talk to him and cousins for hours.

Five years earlier was when Anna was first diagnosed with cancer. It was rough on the entire family, as it took the doctors numerous visits and tons of tests to come up with what they thought was the problem. Science wasn't so advanced at this point, and this particular variety of cancer was a little lesser known, and not so understood. It showed various signs that continued to throw off the doctors, and it took a long time for them to finally narrow down what they thought it was. Sadly, they originally mis-diagnosed her, and it wouldn't be for many more years, with the help of advancements in technology, that doctors would realize their mistake. It's really too bad, because it's most likely that the treatments she was given this year, because the complications that eventually resulted in her body completely shutting down.

Five years before that was one of the most tragic events for the family. During a summer vacation to a lake house in the upper peninsula of Michigan, Julie's middle son, Edward drowned in a lake. Julie and her husband Charlie both worked in the legal system, and were both workaholics. Neither of them had been on a vacation in years. As their children were getting older, they decided that it would be nice to give them a nice, lavish vacation. So, they rented a large lake house at Lac La Belle for two weeks. John and Anna went up for a few days, and then returned home. Happy to get a small vacation in for themselves, and happy to spend quality time with their daughter and grandchildren. It made it that much harder, three days later when they got the phone call. Anna had to give the phone to John because she lost it as soon as she heard the news. Thomas, Edward, and Ashley took the paddle boat out on the water, eventually parking the boat and all getting out to play around. All three of them knew how to swim, and their parents had no worries. After a while, Thomas and Ashley realized that they hadn't seen Edward for a few minutes. The began diving down in the water, and it was Thomas who eventually found Edward, tangled in a tree underwater. The theory is that he somehow hit his head while swimming underwater, because disoriented, and thought he was swimming up, when in reality, he was swimming down under the tree, where he eventually became trapped and drowned. Thomas and Ashley got his body into the boat, and frantically trying to pump the water out of his lungs. Ashley paddle her hardest while Thomas beat on Edwards chest and tried to breath life back into his lungs. Sadly, by the time they reached the house and got their parents, it was a lost cause. Edward was dead. His siblings carried the burden and guilt for many, many years and the family did not take another vacation together until both Thomas and Ashley had graduated high school. It was one of the roughest times for the Brown family. Many family members made the trip home for the funeral, but a number of them were still missing.

Three years earlier, Jackson was born to James. Jackson was their last grandchild.

Four years before that, Martin was born to James. Despite being their oldest child, James was the last one to get married. He two children became the youngest of their generation.

The previous year, Ashley was born to Julie.

Edward was the year before that, Julie's second child.

One year earlier was a double whammy. Aaron gave John and Anna their first grandchild in April. And in June, Julie gave birth to Thomas. Their first two grandchildren came less than three months apart. And in October, James was married to Sarah. It was definitely an eventful year for John and Anna, and the entire Brown family. Lost of traveling was done by many of the family members.

The year before was a milestone for John and Anna. It was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and Anna went all out to plan a great trip to Europe for John. Ever since he returned from the War, John had spoken many times about wanting to go back someday. Anna was never really sure if he meant it. She heard stories of other soldiers returning and not being able to deal with the things that they went through and witnessed. But, after twenty-four years, John legitimately seemed interested in returning, and Anna had always wanted to see Europe, so she made the plans and surprised John a month beforehand. And Anna was right, John truly did want to go back. He was more than patient to wait for the cities to be rebuilt, so that he could enjoy them for what they truly were. He remembered various candies and treats that he used his money to buy while he was in Franc and Germany. He remembered walking through destroyed cities and wondering what they looked like in their prime. He knew his experiences were tainted by the war, and he always wanted to be able to experience these places the ways they were meant to be, by tourists. So, the middle-aged couple spent seventeen wonderful days enjoying France, Germany, Switzerland and Italy. John found numerous locations that he knows he was

One year earlier was Julie's wedding to Charlie. Sadly, James missed this wedding, as he was at the end of his four years in Vietnam. It was a long four years for Anna, more than John. Being a survivor of wartime, John seemed to believe that his son would return without any issue. Anna was constantly frantic, and hated going many months between hearing from her first-born son. It took its toll on their relationship, but John was a constant rock to keep her solid and help her through the rough times. When John finally came home, it was to a large family party, and John was finally introduced to Charlie, whom his sister stared dating not long after he left for Vietnam, and was now married to.

Four years earlier was the beginning of the rough times for Anna. It was an emotional goodbye when she was forced to watch John walk through the corridor and get onto the plane that would take him to his company, and only a few days later he would be on another plane heading to the South Pacific. She couldn't even try to strong about it. She didn't sleep for three nights beforehand, and when she made him his favorite breakfast, she cried the entire time he was eating it. She cried the entire time they drove him to the airport. She cried the entire time they were standing in the terminal, and she collapsed on the ground when was out of her sight. But John was there for her, and did his best to be strong enough for both of them. That summer was their twentieth anniversary, and despite the few months time, Anna was still an emotional wreck. So, for their anniversary, John planned a very special trip. Out into the middle of the countryside. And even though he tried to keep it a surprise, Anna was not dumb. When they were still an hour away from their destination, Anna knew exactly where they were going, and what it meant to that day. As they pulled up the winding road, Anna felt the most peace she had in a long, long time. When they finally reached the clearing at the top of the hill, and pulled up to the little white church, Anna cried again. But this time, they were tears of joy and happiness, as she thought back to spending a warm June afternoon in this exact location, twenty years prior. They spent the day walking around the grounds, talking about the events of that day, talking about all of the moments they've had since then, and they ended a perfect afternoon with a picnic. Not one person bothered them the entire day, and it was as if the world stopped just for them to enjoy the afternoon together. While it did provide ease while they were there, it's didn't last too long after she arrived home. Anna just could not stop thinking about her little boy, being in the heart of a war where thousands of people were dying. A few years later, that church would be torn down, and this special day was the last time either of them saw the church where they were married.

The previous fifteen years were filled with young love, and a growing family. Thousands of diapers for their three children. Sporting events for the kids. School dances. Summer camps. The family moved quite a bit in the beginning, but by the time James was set to start high school, John and Anna settled down in the city and house that they would end up living in for the next forty-eight years. The military took them all across the country, and it's probably why and how this family developed such a close-knit and tight family relationship. They always had each other to depend on, and despite what happened down the road, and despite the paths their lives would take, and despite how ever far they moved away from each other, this family always stayed close, because that's how they all knew life. Ever since Julie was born.

Aaron was born the year before.

And James was born two years earlier.

This was one year after John and Anna got married.

Which was two years after John returned from Europe, serving in World War II.

John had spent the previous three years in France and Germany, serving in the United States Army. John was prepared to sign up at age 17, but had to wait until after he graduated high school and turned 18, and on his birthday he signed his papers, and it was merely a few weeks later that he found himself in basic training. Which was a very rough way to start his very young relationship with Anna. He wasn't allowed to call or write her, and then he was only allowed to be home for one week before he was shipped out. He landed on the beach of Normandy only hours after the first wave, and John will never forget the thousand of bodies that he saw on that day. But, even while he was in Europe, he was able to occasionally get letter written and sent to Anna, and in those letters he begged and pleaded with her to wait for him, and to give him a chance to give her a wonderful life. John was madly in love with Anna, even though they had only been dating for a little over one year at this time. And John's letter's reached Anna, and touched her in so many ways, that she knew that she needed to wait for him to come home, and that she wanted a long life with him. She would read every letter he wrote, everyday, and she would lie in bed, staring into the paint patterns on her ceiling, while she day-dreamed of a future with John. She thought about kids, and grand kids, and a perfect life together. John and Anna did not have a perfect life, they had a life full of ups and downs, lots of good and some bad. But, when Anna was getting ready to pass away, and lying on her hospital bed, she looked at the ceiling in that room, and she thought back to being seventeen, eighteen, and even nineteen, and she compared her notes with herself. Marry the man of my dreams? Check. Have children, grandchildren, and a solid family? Check. Die in the arms of the man I'm madly in love with? Check.

One year prior was the first date for John and Anna.

John was a senior and Anna was a junior, and they met each other on the sidelines of a football game. John was a wide receiver for his high school's team, while Anna was a cheerleader. When John caught a ball and was sprinting down the sideline, he was eventually hit by a safety and went flying out of bounds. When he hit the ground, he rolled, and ended up taking out the legs of Anna. She tumbled down on top of him, and as he helped her up - they had their first "shared moment". John instantly thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. It might be going too far to say it was "love at first sight", but when John tracked Anna down the next day to ask her to dinner, it was mostly definitely love at second sight.

John did not have a car of his own, therefore he begged and pleaded and bartered, until his father agreed to allow him to use his 1939 Ford Deluxe Coupe to take out Anna. John took advantage of the car, and for the first hour of their date, they just cruised up and down the main streets of town, while they talked. They eventually ended up getting some Surf 'N Turf for dinner, before heading to the small single-screen movie theatre to watch "Babes on Broadway". It was during the musical number "How About You?" that John leaned over and kissed Anna on the cheek, and when she turned to look at him, they had their first kiss.

Five years later, at their wedding, they would have their first dance to this song.

And sixty-nine years later, while Anna laid in her hospital bed, slipping in and out of consciousness, John would be sitting right next to her with his arms wrapped around her, whispering into her ear...

"I'm so delighted I've ignited the spark within you. Let me continue to make it burn..."

Self Impossed Solitary

I can feel the cold linoleum on my bare side. It's sending a cold chill all the way down to my toes. I open my eyes to look at the base of the toilet, it appears some of my vomit didn't make it into the bowl, and has dripped down the side. There's a small pool of orange-ish chunky liquid mere centimeters from my face. I feel blood slowly dripping out of my nose, across my upper lip and down the side of my face. It's almost like Chinese water torture, having to feel the slow moving liquid traverse so slowly. If I had more energy, or didn't feel like my head was going to explode, I would actually attempt to wipe it off. Instead, I allow myself this sadistic moment to remind myself that I'm actually alive. I've actually reached the age of 30 years, and one day.

I open my eyes again. How much time has passed? What time is it? What time was it last time? Maybe I'm thirty and two days, and I don't even realize it. Is it possible to sleep through an entire day? Isn't that called a coma? You can go three days without water, right? Can you go an entire day without going to the bathroom? Did I piss myself? I can't even tell. Are my legs missing? Are they so numb that I can't feel them?

I force myself to move, ever so slightly. Okay, I see two legs. That makes me happy. But, my pants do look wet, that doesn't make me happy. I close my eyes again. It was partially in relief, and partially because the light in the bathroom is killing me. Even with my eyes closed, I can feel my eye lids burning with light, and it's not pitch black in my mind's eye, instead it's a deep red color. I see lots of little bright lights swirling around. There's no way they can be real, and I don't know why my mind creates these things, their only purpose seems to be to make me dizzier and more nauseous. I force myself to open my eyes and face the bright lights. I believe that to be the lesser of two evils, when faced with the potential of emptying the rest of the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl. If there's even anything left in my stomach, which its very plausible that there's nothing in there at all, which would explain the pain I'm feeling down there. If that is the case, then I'll gladly take the bright lights of this little bathroom, over dry-heaving into the toilet. My throat is currently dry, so I can only imagine the extreme pain and discomfort that would result in. I'm starting to become aware of the discomfort in my right shoulder. Slowly, but surely, I force myself to roll over onto my back. Well, I started off slowly, but at one point, gravity just took over and there I was, looking straight up at the ceiling.

I should really put up more wall decor in this room. These plain white walls are just so boring. I've never timed my bathroom visits, but I've usually got a copy of Maxim or Sports Illustrated to read. I'm pretty sure I'm just going to give the record to this visit: This is almost definitely the longest I've ever spent in this room. I wonder what other people have thought when they've been sitting in here? Do they grab a magazine off the toilet tank and read it? Or do they sit and stare at the wall, bored? Artwork. I should buy some artwork. But, what kind of artwork do you buy for a bathroom? I'm thirty years old, I should know the answer to this questions. What does my mother have in her bathroom? I can't even remember right now.

Is it possible to sleep with your eyes open? I don't remember closing my eye, but suddenly it seems like time has passed. I mean, I know time has passed, seconds are ticking away, every second. But, it feels like a serious amount of time has passed. Then again, I'm really in no shape to judge anything. That's kind of a double entendre, I really don't have the ability to judge the passing of time, and given my current circumstances, I don't believe I can judge any other drunk human being I ever see.

I remember when I first turned twenty-one. Oh jeez, that was nine years ago. Anyways, I went into a bathroom at a club, and saw a guy down on all fours vomiting into the toilet of a public bathroom. I remember looking at the wet, dirty, disgusting floor and seeing his pant legs soaked in what I can only assume was water, urine, and who knows what else? I remember telling myself that I would never be that guy, I'd never be that pathetic. I'm sure it's somewhat hypocritical, but I still justify to myself that I'm in this position in my bathroom, and not some public place where anyone and everyone can see me and judge me.

This could possibly be the worst hangover that I can remember. There's been some bad ones in the past, and college is really a four year blur. But, when you never sober up enough to remember things, it's really hard to know what kind of headaches you ever had during that period. Wow. Today is also kind of a milestone, now that I think about it. And think is all I've been doing for the past... hour? two hours? Whatever. Today's a milestone. I've officially been an alcoholic for half my life.

It was on my fifteenth birthday, that I went over to Marty Buckner's house, went down into the basement to "play pool", where we actually swiped an open bottle of Smirnoff Vodka. It was really kind of like a military mission. I remember loosening up my belt by one notch, so that bottle was snug against my stomach. Marty went upstairs first, and did the recon, while I stood at the top of the stairwell. The kitchen was clear, the laundry room was clear, and then I heard the code words: "Yo Joe!" That was cue to dart through the kitchen, through the laundry room, and I jump through the open door into the garage. Marty closed the door and we jetted to our bikes, parked in the driveway. It was so exhilarating. I peddled as fast I could, trying to get farther and farther away from the scene of the crime, with each rotation of the wheel, I felt like I was untouchable. We'd just pulled off an amazing heist, and I had the booty resting on my bike seat, buckled in by my belt. We peddled six blocks away, to Owens Park, and scouted things out. There was a giant, three-leveled fort in the center of the park. This was where we usually played, but obviously, there was a bunch of other kids playing there too. On the back side of the park, there were four over-sized tires, half buried in the sand. We made our way over to them, and found them vacant. That afternoon, I took my first sip of alcohol. And my second. And many, many more. The bottle was probably half full when we swiped it, and Marty and I probably drank half of what was in the bottle. That night, when we finally returned the bottle, I remember using the bathroom in the basement to add water back into the bottle, to get the level back to where it was before we took it. To my knowledge, we got away with it. I know neither one of us ever got in trouble for it, and the night we graduated from high school was the only time we ever admitted to any of our friends what we did that afternoon.

From that day on, it's been a blur of fifteen years. Obviously, it wasn't easy to regularly get my hands on liquor, and I often did some shady thing to satisfy my urge. I stole bottles friend's parents, sometime with my friend's knowledge, sometimes not. I dated one girl in high school, and every Friday night we would kill about half a box of Franzia wine that her parents kept in fridge. I remember driving to school every morning, and buying a big bottle of orange juice at the gas station. I'd drink half of it by the time I got to school, at which point I'd pop open the trunk, and pull out a giant bottle of Dark Eyes Vodka, which I'd mix with the OJ, in order to make my school days much more tolerable. I was lucky to have friends with older brothers, who were willing to buy thing for me, as long I financially compensated them for their generosity.

College was easy access. Rushing a fraternity my freshman year meant there would never be a shortage of booze in the house, and there would always be a senior brother to buy me anything I needed. After college, it was game on in the bars and clubs. Granted, that got old and boring after a few years, and then I just found myself to be the guy sitting alone at the corner of the bar, sipping on a Belgian White Beer, and doing shots of Jäger combined with Red Bull.

Then, there's nights like last night. There's those amazing, and often rare nights, where a number of closest and best friends all step away from their perfect lives, and wives, and children, and families, and they just throw caution to the wind, and we remember what it was like to be young, and dumb, and foolish, and over-indulgent. I know that I'm not the happiest person in life, I feel like I've always made the wrong choices at the wrong times, and I've lost a lot of who and what I wanted to be, "when I grew up". But, I have to believe that even my friends who I look at as having "the perfect life", have to sitting in their minds believing that they didn't turn out exactly who they wanted to be. I think the majority of people in this world are living with "settled lives". Lives which they have mentally convinced themselves are good enough, despite all of the things they never accomplished. No matter how they feel, or what they think about at night when they lie bed, it's always a great time when we get together and all decide to let loose. I'm really blessed that I do have the friends that I do.

How long has it been now? Suddenly my head doesn't hurt as bad. Don't get my wrong, it's still pounding, but that sharp pain that felt like a knife stabbing into the front right side of my skull, has gone down to just a numbing pain. Maybe it's time to try to get up?

I do it slowly. I push my body up, and put my shoulders against the wall. I slowly move my shoulders up, until I'm sitting straight up. My body feels like Jell-O. I'm weak. My hands are shaking, and I can't lock my elbows in place. The room gets a little dizzy, but the feeling passes after a few minutes. I take a moment to bury my face in my hands, cheeks feel puffy to the touch. When I pull them away, they are covered in nasty mixture of water, blood, and sweat. I grab a handful of toilet paper to wipe of my hands, and look to my right to throw it into the toilet. Mistake. Obviously, my drunken self never remembered to flush the toilet and I was forced to look at a disgusting lake of orange swamp water, which its main color came from the loads of buffalo wings we gorged ourselves on at dinner. There were little islands of floating peanuts, which I remember grabbing handfuls of from the bowls on the bar top. There was something green in there, possibly a pickle? Maybe a jalapeño? Whatever it is, I don't remember eating that. I'm also not sure why my nose was bleeding, but it was obviously bleeding badly, because there's one area of the lake that looks like an oil spill of red hydrophobic polarization.

I toss in the toilet paper, and thank God that my nose is clogged with snot and other mucus, because I can't imagine what it actually smells like in this room. I listen to the water swirl around in the toilet, before I actually look back at it. Ugh, there's still some remnants in there. I'm going to hate myself later, when I actually clean this up. I put one hand on the toilet bowl, and the other against the wall, as I force myself onto my knees and then finally up to my feet. I'm sure the entire process took less than a minute, but it honestly felt like an hour to me.

Once I finally made it to my feet, I moved myself over in front of the mirror, and got the horror of seeing exactly what I looked like. I'm pretty sure I looked worse than most horror movie monsters from the last 1970s. I had unidentifiable liquids and dried substances caked to my face. I cranked on the hot water at full blast, and the sound cut through my ears and into the deepest area of brain. This caused my knees to buckle, and I had to hold myself up on the counter. I quickly turned the water velocity down to an auditory-approved level. I cup my hands and place them under the water, and spend a good long time washing my face. There's stuff in my hair, but I don't mess with it yet. A shower is my number one priority, as soon as I make it into the master bathroom.

I open the medicine cabinet, and pull out my painkillers. I've still got a couple of prescription drugs from a surgery I had last year. I've been saving them for a special occasion, and I think this qualifies. I pop two of them into my mouth, and almost instantly have a gag reflex. I stop myself, and quickly wash it down with water. I don't think water has ever tasted this good. Does water really taste good? I've never really been a fan, but this is amazing. Maybe I really love water? Whatever the case, it's my favorite right now, and I pour myself another glass. I chug the water like it's an Irish Car Bomb, and as enter my stomach, it's almost as if the water is giving me a recon report, and telling me: "I'm alone in here, your stomach is empty". It's at this point that I think it might be time to eat something. However, as I have that thought, it's juxtaposed with the other half of my brain thinking that if I put anything in my stomach, I'm going to be right back in front of that porcelain bowl.

I stare at myself in the mirror, while my brain argues with itself. Meanwhile, another part of my brain starts attempting to force myself to finally leave this self-imposed prison that I've been keeping myself in for who knows how long. I try to convince myself that I can move, I can walk, I can make it out of this room. I look at my splotchy red cheeks and wonder how long it's going to take those burst capillaries to heal up? I finally feel like I'm ready to go, but one step in, and I find myself holding onto the wall to prevent myself from falling over. My legs don't seem to have the blood flowing to them properly. My second attempt involves baby-steps, while I support myself against the wall. I finally make the short trip from the sink to the door, and when I attempt to free myself from this solitary, I look out into the real world with only one question...

"What happened in my living room?"


This is an entire work of fiction - I don't want to scare my parents! It was an exercise that forced me to write, and I wanted to test myself on my descriptive abilities to paint a visual picture to the reader, from a first person perspective.

I hope to write a couple of more short exercises, and then get back into seriously writing my novel. I pitched the novel to some friends on Saturday night, and was very pleased with the feedback I got from them, so I'm really forcing myself to MAKE the time to write everyday.

Top Ten Films of The 2000s

Top Ten Films of the 2000s.

From the records I’ve kept, between January 1st, 2000 and right this minute, I’ve seen 859 films in the theatre. That’s an average of 85 a year, but this number is very badly top-loaded, as in the early 2000s, I saw many, many, many films that I regret, because I was working in the theatre business, and was willing to watch pretty much anything and everything – most often with Jason L. Maier. I remember the early years when we competed to break 100 films, and even the years that I did, Jason always saw more than me. In the most recent years, I’m lucky to break 40 films in the theatre. I just stopped being willing to watch anything and everything, and am much more selective in what I waste my time with. Now, for the record, this number does not include any films that I’ve seen on DVD or Made-For-TV. Which, most likely adds another couple hundred to the number of films I’ve seen over the past ten years.

I’ve been working on this list for the month. Because, once I narrowed down the films on my theatrical list, I started going through all the films I’ve seen on DVD, from memory. I went through my five-star rated films on Netflix, and through my DVD collection. It’s been a long process, but I think I’ve finally gotten it narrowed down to the films I’ve willing to label as “Shane’s Top Ten Films of the 2000s”.

10. “The Damned United” (2009)
“We grew up just a few streets apart in Middlesbrough... Close to Ayresome Park. He'll have known my street: Valley Road. Probably bought sweets from Garnett's factory where me dad worked.”



Ego and pride are perfectly captured in this well written, non-linear film. As it opens with a very arrogant and egotistical Brian Clough, and then flashes back to show you his progression, and the little events, conversations, and matches that transformed him and made him become overly obsessed with being a better football club manager than his rival. And, to increase his troubles is the fact that his “rival” doesn’t even acknowledge him. His emotions, and determination, are so perfectly displayed and acted, I think Martin Sheen was phenomenal. Colm Meaney was also perfect in his role. I really enjoyed watching Clough’s arrogance getting the best of him, and driving him, and causing him to do some pretty outrageous things.

9. “Primer” (2004)
“What happens if it actually works?”



By FAR, the BEST time-travel film ever made. Hands-down. Nothing compares to how this film handles time-travel. The best part of the film, is the minute that it is over, right after the “pay off”, it’s okay to start it over again and watch it a second time to see everything you missed. Since the film is only 78-ish minutes long, and it flies by, you will be longing to watch it again and see any mistakes. But, there are none. It’s perfect. Everything is set up from the opening dialogue of the film, and it plays out perfectly. As the device is used and tested over and over again, the concept of time, time travel, linear time, and changing the constant future are represented, and even debated in some amazing dialogue. On a budget of $7,000 to buy film the stock, I think this is one of the most original, well-written, well-planned, well-conceived films I’ve ever seen. It’s so interesting and intriguing, and the best three hours you could spend thinking about time travel and it’s abilities.

8. “The Prestige” (2006)
“You never understood, why we did this. The audience knows the truth: the world is simple. It's miserable, solid all the way through. But if you could fool them, even for a second, then you can make them wonder, and then you... then you got to see something really special... you really don't know?... it was... it was the look on their faces...”



Again, much like “The Damned United”, I enjoy the concept of obsession over being the best. Where this film is different from the previous one, is the fact that the two characters are actually competing against each other, and their continued attempts to do better than the other drive this great plot. It’s enjoyable to watch the transformation of the two characters, who begin as good friends, and then develop a continually growing hatred towards each other, in their solo attempts at becoming the best possible illusionist.

Christopher Nolan does an amazing job with the non-linear story-telling, through the reading of the journal. As the story is told, and unfolds, and you learn the lengths that they each went to, in their quests, as it unfolds. Finally, the emotional ending to this film, as the “pay off” is revealed during the final confrontation, and you learn exactly how much each man hand to give up in his life, over their feud, really puts everything into perspective.

7. “You Can Count on Me” (2000)
“I don't want to believe something or not believe it because I might feel bad. I want to believe it because I think it's true or not... I'd like to think that my life is important... Or that it's connected to something important...”



Mark Ruffalo and Laura Linney are amazing. Two siblings, both with years and years of baggage, both trying to do their best to live their lives. It’s nice to see two flawed characters work together so perfectly. As a troubled drifter, Ruffalo’s character comes in mysterious and it takes us a long time to find out why he hates his hometown so much, on the other extreme, you’ve got Linney’s character who feels like she doesn’t deserve better, and is forcing herself to stay, without ever chasing her dreams or aspirations. Their sibling feuds, and how Linney’s son looks up to Ruffalo is amazing. Rory Culkin’s performance is amazing, and I’m a huge fan of the “hammering” scene. I think it’s nice to see imperfection represented so well. They don’t come off as losers, they don’t come off as idiots. They simply come off as two people, trying to do their best, and their own insecurities stand in the way. Watching them play off each other works so well.

6. “Life as a House” (2001)
“You know the great thing, though, is that change can be so constant you don't even feel the difference until there is one. It can be so slow that you don't even notice that your life is better or worse, until it is. Or it can just blow you away, make you something different in an instant. It happened to me.”



This was a difficult one for me to put on this list, despite how amazing I think the film is. I saw this film in November of 2001, because I was really looking forward to seeing our future Anakin Skywalker. I remember walking into the Greenwood theatre, David Lichty got me signed on, as I went on my first date with Kristen. That year, for Christmas, I gave her a framed poster of the film, something that was in all of our domiciles together. Luckily, I had a second poster to keep for myself.

As far as the film goes, I think it’s one of the things that helped me with my own father issues. As all of my friends know, things were rough growing up, and being a “black sheep” in my family, didn’t make things easy with my military father. It’s a disappointment that it was so late in my life that I saw a film like this. Something that made me realize, life can change in any instant, and nothing in guaranteed. Luckily, I’ve never actually been stuck in a moment where I thought I was going to lose my father, but this film opened up my mind and my eyes to the possibility and knowledge that I need to do better in relationships with my family.

Kevin Kline is amazing. As a care-free man, who decides that he wants to reconcile things with his family, after many troubling years with his son. It’s really just an amazing dramatic film, with some good humor in it, that shows a wonderful transition in characters, as Hayden Christensen is forced to spend the summer helping his father rebuild his lakeside house. Honestly, it’s fairly basic, it’s somewhat basic formula, but for some reason – it works, and works well.

5. “Love Actually” (2003)
“Even better! Sam, you've got nothin' to lose, and you'll always regret it if you don't! I never told your mom enough. I should have told her everyday because she was perfect everyday. You've seen the films, kiddo. It ain't over 'til its over.”



As far as romance goes, this film is perfect. The cast is perfect. Set in London, always a bonus. The things that work best in this film, is how it captures each and every possible nuance of every possible type of love. It shows you the love that a sister has for her brother. It shows the fleeting and flirtatious misplaced lust that a secretary has for her boss, and shows the mental anguish it put him through while considering her an option, while also showing you the fallout with his marriage. It shows you the true feelings between two porn-stand-ins, who have no problem being physically naked in front of each other, but find it awkward to be naked with their feelings towards one another. It shows you the failings of a young man, who decides to look for love across the pond. It shows you the budding romance between a powerful single man, and the woman he spends the most time with, while she’s organizing his life. It shows you the young budding romance of a little boy, who falls for his first girl. It shows you the hardship of losing love. It shows you the pain of watching the one you love, with your friend instead. It shows you the fact that true love and cross language barriers.

In all aspects of inter-twining story-telling, this film nails it. Perfectly. It’s not all about This boy loves that girl, while that girl longs for this boy. Instead, it just shows you everyday people, in different walks of intersecting lives, and how they love those people in their lives. It gets bonus points for being a Christmas film, but even if it wasn’t, it would be on this list.

4. “Untitled” (2000 – “Almost Famous”)
“That's because we're uncool. And while women will always be a problem for us, most of the great art in the world is about that very same problem. Good-looking people don't have any spine. Their art never lasts. They get the girls, but we're smarter.”



I remember standing in the booth at the Lafayette Square III, IV, V Cinema, hanging out with Jason, when he mentioned a screening of “Almost Famous” that was happening in Greenwood that night. Within minutes, he made the call to get me on the list, and I was flying at top speed down to the south side to watch the film, by one of my favorite directors.

The film is one of the best coming of age stories I’ve ever seen, and probably because it’s a fictionalized version of some true events in Cameron Crowe’s life. Toss in the fact that the 70s are a time period that I would die to live in, and experience the music and the love of the time, when everything was free and not corrupted like this modern world, this film is true escapism for me. It’s a really chance to attempt to enjoy the life on the road, touring with a band, listening and discussing great music, and just socializing with lots of great minds. Sure, there is some drama, and sure William Miller has an article to write, but those characters that eventually take form his in interview, and the characters of observation that make the film so enjoyable. With a supporting cast that’s just as wonderful as the main cast, it’s really a lot of fun to watch – and also the first time I feel in love with Zooey Deschnel. The unrequited love shown through the triangle of William-Penny-Jeff work so perfectly well.

While I really loved “Almost Famous”, the directors cut which was released on DVD is a hundred times better. “Untitled” includes another 40-ish minutes that expand the film, and actually shift the narrative from William Miller to Penny Lane. The majority of the added footage expands on her relationship with Jeff, and makes her seems a lot less “crazy” or “delusional” as she might come off in the theatrical cut. When you actually see some of the conversations that they have together, and how he actually leads her on, and treats her, it makes it a lot more understanding with how she views him, and develops feelings for him. It’s just a wonderful film about friendship and love, and true friendship.

3. “Hooligans” (2005 – “Green Street Hooligans”)
“You know the best part? It isn't knowing that your friends have your back. It's knowing that you have your friends' back.”



Great film that covers a lot of good things. First, getting screwed over by a “friend”. Second, going far away, in an attempt to discover yourself. Third, hiding who you really are, because of your fear of acceptance. Fourth, making some of the best friends of your life. And fifth, learning how to handle it all when everything comes out in the open.

It’s just an amazing film about friendship. Luckily, Lexi Alexander had the good mind to leave a long story out of the film, because it just didn’t belong. The one small love-side-story that is present is such a small part of the story, but is still so important, that it works perfectly. The violence isn’t even the best part of the film, the journey taken to gain the acceptance of the others is the best part. Watching our main character develop from a small Harvard student who gets walked all over, and mistreated, as he develops into one of the main influences in a hooligan gang, is a wonderful character study.

The most upsetting part of the film is the misconception that it’s about “soccer”. While football does play a massive plot driver, there is only two scenes in the entire film that involve football being played. The majority of the film takes place in pubs, and revolves around the social aspects of the clubs, and how their fights are really more about respect than violence. The best scene in the film is when Claire Forlani arrives at the hospital and has an emotional outburst towards Charlie Hunnam. Very, very emotional scene.

2. “Memento” (2001)
“Memory can change the shape of a room; it can change the color of a car. And memories can be distorted. They're just an interpretation, they're not a record, and they're irrelevant if you have the facts.”



Christopher Nolan’s second film on my list, and it deserves to be this high up. Because it took non-linear story-telling to an entirely new level. It wasn’t just flashing back in time through the film, it was cutting between two story-lines that were moving in opposite directions, until they met in the middle. The film is often misrepresented as being told “in reverse”, when this is incorrect. Only half of the film is told in reverse, the other half of the film is told in order, until they converge.

What makes this film even better is the DVD release, which allows you to watch the entire film in chronological order. Which basically makes it a completely different emotional monster. Instead of watching everything unfold into the big “pay off” between Leonard and Teddy, in the end of the original cut, while watching the film in chronological order, it completely changes the emotional lay-out of the film, and allows you to see how manipulated Leonard was by Teddy. In other words, “Memento” is so good of a film, that it’s actually TWO amazing films in one, and I love watching it both ways.

The characters are so well done. The concept is so interesting. It’s really awkward to admit that I enjoy watching the manipulations that happen to Leonard, by everyone he comes into contact with. Watching the things that Leonard does to attempt to help himself, are just really cool and very interesting to see how they play out.

1. “Mulholland Dr.” (2001)
“It'll be just like in the movies. Pretending to be somebody else.”



I’ve been obsessed with “Lost Highway” since the first time I saw it, and I’ve always enjoyed “Twin Peaks”. So, when I was given the chance to view this film at an early screening, I was in utopia.

This film was given Number One on my list for one simple reason, after my third viewing, I wrote a ten-page thesis on the meaning and plot of the film. It was later amended and edited by David Lichty. Any film that causes me to think that much, and process everything under such a microscope, is enjoyable to me. The dissection of the different storylines, and characters, and potential events that lead to various potential outcomes, makes me so involved that I enjoy everything about it. I enjoy the mystery, I enjoy the sexuality, I enjoy the bizarre. I enjoy it because it’s not cookie-cutter, because it’s not the typical brain-dead crap that Hollywood pumps out each and every week.

I have always been interested in seeing exactly where Lynch was planning on going with the story, if it would have been greenlit as a TV series. When you look back at “Twin Peaks” and the potential for “Mulholland Dr.” and compare it modern shows of “Lost” or “Flashforward”, it makes me believe that Lynch was just that far ahead of the curve, and Hollywood wasn’t ready.

I realize that I’ve done more in breaking down the concept of “Mulholland Dr.” than I have talking about the acting, or the story. The acting is what it is, and the characters are well portrayed. But the story, it’s not worth discussing with anyone who hasn’t seen the flick, because I don’t want to give anything away. Granted, even if I did, most people would still be pretty lost, which is another reason I love the film so much, because I believe it’s like a nice little club to be a part of, when the film is not too complex for you to understand. Or, to think you have an understanding of a potential interpretation of the film.



There it is. My top ten films in the last ten years.

I do have some honorable mentions:
“Adventureland”, “Serenity”, “Thank You for Smoking”, “The Fountain”, “Reign Over Me”, “Match Point”, “In the Land of Women”, “ The Last Kiss”, “Dirty Pretty Things”, “Hard Candy”, “Lilo & Stitch”

Finally, the ONE FILM that I regret I haven't seen yet, from the 2000s:

"My Life Without Me"


Netflix has it as unavailable. I'm going to have to find a copy to buy online.

Thank You, Paris M. Goodrum

Please visit the Thank You, Paris Goodrum Blog, started by Angie Engelhardt-Wittenberg, to read more stories and to submit you own Thank You to Angie.



Raise curtain.
Lights up.
Begin scene.

I was a fourteen year old freshman in high school, when I walked into third period in Paris Goodrum’s classroom on my first day of high school. I remember the stage at the back of the room, and I remember the black and white photos that adorned the walls.

That was fifteen years ago, which means that I have known this man for over half my life. But, the true reality of it, is that because I let my life get in the way, I’ve only had a few good years with him. Luckily for me, even when we were not in contact, the impression he left on my mind and soul have always been present, and have helped shape me into the person I am today.
It was November of 1994, when I was the only freshman male cast in “You Can’t Take it With You”, when I stood on stage and after each performance got to hear one of my senior cast mates give a “Thank You” speech to Mr. Goodrum, and how much he meant to them. It was at this moment, in my infancy of theatre experience, that I vowed to myself that I would be in all eight productions throughout high school, and in February of 1998 – that would be ME.

In a sad twist of fate, the Greater Power decided that wasn’t going to happen. It was fourteen months later, when Mr. Goodrum was forced to leave during production of “I Remember Mama” and it was in May of that year when it became official that Mr. Goodrum was going to have to retire from teaching. And with that decision, I was forced to forever give up that moment, in front of an auditorium of people, to publicly give thanks and adoration for the man who shaped me, taught me, and mentored me. It’s now, at this time, over ten years after my original planned time, that I take the time to open up my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to say “Thank You” to a man who I never got the chance before.

Henry David Thoreau. If Mr. Goodrum hadn’t have picked “The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail” for our Winter Play in February of 1995, I’d never have had my mind opened up to the transcendentalist philosophies of life. It would take eleven years, and numerous readings of “Walden” and “Civil Disobedience” before I made it to Concord, Massachusetts to visit Walden Pond, and see the history I had read about.

It was in November of 1995, during the production of “My Sister Eileen”, when I finally got Mr. Goodrum to allow me to read “Dear, High School” – the play that Mr. Goodrum had written, and performed at least once during his time at Lawrence Central. Mr. Goodrum said that his plan was to make this his final play, the year he decided to retire from teaching. I can’t lie when I admit, that in my perfect world, that would have been my senior year. More importantly, my senior year would have been mr. Goodrum’s 30th year of teaching, and I often told him, “Thirty years would be a good time to quit”. Sadly, he only made it to twenty-eight, and more sad is that life took us both in different directions. Those who know me, know that I have OCD tendencies, and when something important in my life changes, I do not adjust well to those changes. Instead of going into my junior year with aspirations of continuing my theatre career, I went in as wayward student who no longer knew where or what he wanted to do. This arrogant and egotistical person that I turned into, rebelled against the new regime of the theatre department, and quickly found myself an exile from it, at which point I walked away for good.

I can’t remember if it was 1998 or 1999, but I remember Mr. Goodrum contacting me to let me know that there was a showing of his play “Quanita and Beula vs. the Killer Squirrel”. It was in the basement of a Seniors Center, if I remember correctly. I’m going to have to go to my Parent’s house and dig through some old boxes to try and find the program, which I hope I still have. I remember sitting next to Mr. Goodrum during the production.

In 2000, Jason L. Maier and I went over to Mr. Goodrum’s house numerous times with copies of the script for our first film, “Consternate”. Mr. Goodrum read our various drafts, and did a lot of work with us on character development, among other things. I learned a lot about the revision and development processes from those long afternoons sitting in his kitchen, and going page by page through the script, and figuring out what worked, what didn’t, what could be cut, and what needed to be explained better. It was the last time I saw Mr. Goodrum was in January of 2001, right before I moved to Los Angeles, when I stopped by his house to drop off a DVD copy of “Consternate”. Once I got settled in L.A., we continued to keep in touch via snail mail, and I know somewhere I have a few letters written to me from Mr. Goodrum.

Upon returning from California, I made the mistake of allowing my life to get in the way. Girlfriend, wife, job, film-making, etc… etc… They were all excuses, and none of them are good ones. I failed. Not in a life-threatening way, but in a “I failed to keep in contact with someone I should have way”. But, those ripples continued across the water of my life. I re-read “Walden”, I continued to write, I tried to act in a few of our films. All of these things are leaves, which grew from the branches that I am, from the tree trunk that was Mr. Goodrum. Please let me assure you that this is a HUGE tree trunk, with hundreds of branches growing from it, each branch with many leaves to show the accomplishments of the trunk.

It was October 15th, of 2009 when I was contacted by Angie Engelhardt-Wittenberg, who was in all four of the productions that I was in. She had found a blog I wrote about the time I went to Walden Pond, where I made mention to Mr. Goodrum’s influence on that part of my life. Angie informed me that she wanted to start a blog, where all of Mr. Goodrum’s former students could come and say “Thank You” to the man who mentored so many of us. That brings us to today. And two hours ago, I was sitting in Mr. Goodrum’s living room, talking to him, catching up with him, reminiscing about high school and other times we’d spent together. He said the added weight looked good on me (I disagreed with him), he liked the film strip tattoo, but really liked the profile comedy and tragedy masks tattoo. He made comments about the blonde spiked hair, and told me that despite the changes, he could still see the student he remembered. We talked about the various projects I’ve done over the past eight years, and I was surprised when he asked if he could read any of them. I talked to him about my transition from film into my current project writing a novel. He admitted that his mind is too far-gone to help with any revisions, but he would still love to read whatever I will let him – and I will let him read it all. While he claims he couldn’t do revisions, I still feel like I could sit and have discussions with him, that will involve his insight – which would be just as good to me.

“There is a part in each one of us that never gets over high school.” This is a quote from Paris M. Goodrum today. I told him that I agreed 100%. I fell in love for the first time in high school, with someone I still randomly hear from to this day. Two of the best men in my wedding were my friends from freshman year to graduation, to this very evening. I was exposed to theatre and to the artists lifestyle in high school. It was a care-free and enjoyable time of my life, and I agree that a very large part of me has never moved on, or gotten over what my life was at that point. Mr. Goodrum and I were talking about my novel, and I was giving him the basics of it, and how it revolved around the death of friend, and a group of friends thinking back over the ten years that brought all of them to where they are now, the lies, the secrets, the things we do to keep our friendships as solid as we can. It was at this time that I asked if I could once again borrow “Dear, High School” so that I could re-read it, and see what kind of creative juices could get flowing from reading his play.

I made a decision today, that I want to keep Mr. Goodrum a part of my life for as long as I can. Last year, I lost two grandparents, and only have one left, who lives in Iowa, and I don’t get to see as often as I would like. I want to make sure he knows what he has meant to me, and I want to help him as much as I can. Seeing him in a deteriorating physical condition really hit me in a way that made me sad. I have offered to come over anytime he will let me, and told him that I want to see him as much as I can, talk to him, and hear the things he has to say about my writing.

And, the biggest thing on my mind right now is taking Angie’s idea one step farther. The idea of attempting to put together a documentary on Mr. Goodrum is brewing in my brain. Trying to hunt down as much documentation and pictures as I can from his time at Lawrence Central. Trying to hunt down students and getting their thoughts and feelings on film. Interviewing teachers who taught with him, and others in the performing arts department. I’d love to sit and do interviews with Mr. Goodrum about his many years of teaching, about his many productions and his favorites. I’ve love to pick his brain, and hear all of the stories that he wants to share. I believe it’s an idea I’m going to bring up to Mr. Goodrum at some point, because while I could do it without his involvement, I have to believe that it would be increasingly better with his support.

Mr. Goodrum is directly responsible for my passion and love of the arts, which is still present in my to this day. I entered his classroom as a wide-eyed naïve freshman, who didn’t know what he was getting involved with. Through him, and his student directors, I was able to be molded into someone who fell deeply in love with performing, with art, with storytelling, with physical arrangement, and with emotional connection to an audience. There’s a large number of people and events that have shaped my life, and Mr. Goodrum is one of the most important, because we met at a time when my mind needed to be molded, and he was the sculptor who took on the task. And now it is up to me, to make sure everyone sees his positive molding in all of my works.

Lights fade.
Spotlight on Mr. Goodrum.
Applause.