Thursday, July 07, 2005

Stacy Vacation 2005: Day 7-9: Stacy & Ted's Excellent Adventure

My best friend since the creation of mankind is my Italian paisano Teodoro.

Or for those of you lacking the ability to pronounce that many "o's" in that short a span of time, "Ted" will do.

I met Ted in the fall of 1990 at the fashionable Cal State Long Beach dorm building known as "Q".

"Q" of course was the only reason James Bond had any cool gadgets as he banged women around the world, so you can see my excitement in living in a building represented by this letter of the alphabet.

But I digress, or regress, depending on the childhood memory.

The first time I met Ted, he stepped into the entrance of my dorm room and asked if I wanted to grab lunch at the dining hall.

He was dressed in an outfit Ted would become famous for in the dorms: Buffalo Bills hat turned rebelliously backwards, T-shirt, shorts and his hair tied back into a ponytail as if to nonverbally tell the ladies, "Goddamnit, I'm the man."

I thought he resembled a pseudo hippie.

As fate would have it, near the end of our first year together in neighboring dorm rooms, his roommate, and mine, would both decide to drop out of this educational institution.

The moment I learned of this sad news, I phoned Ted and suggested we share a dorm room.

That was one of the few decisions in my life that I've been thankful occured.

We had so much fun in that corner room in the building of "Q".

And I believe I received the better of this arrangement because Ted is a handsome guy.

Goddamn Italian blood.

Women were always...wait, let me retype that...ALWAYS hanging out in our room. And they were always nice to me, even when Ted wasn't around, because they nice to the dorky, not quite as attractive roommate, and maybe Ted will notice me.

But Ted was no male slut. He was rather picky when it came to women.

Thankfully that was the case, because if Ted had been a lesser man, I would have had to sleep on the hallway floor more often than not.

The reason for the preceding long winded introduction to my good friend Ted??

To explain how our friendship has endured the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and kept us in contact for the last fifteen years.

A friend like this only comes along once in a lifetime and I won the friendship lottery.

We spent the three days during his visit playing frisbee, sunning by the pool and eating whatever food we desired.

As luck would have it, our mid-30's physique couldn't handle the rigors of an hour or so tossing a 200 gram frisbee through the air and running to catch it.

It's four days later and I'm still sore.


Ted's married to his lovely bride now and teaches full time, so I don't see him as much or as often as I would like.

But that's life's fault, not his.

I never had a brother, and always wanted one when I was growing up.

Some things are worth the wait...

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Stacy Vacation 2005: Day 6: Holy SAG Card Batman

I want to apply to be Batman's sidekick.

Robin is so past tense.

I treated myself to an overindulgence of buttery motor oil and whispery patrons as I settled into the center of the 100 seat theater that is still projecting "Batman Begins."

My ego begin to swell as I realized I might be the only one in the entire theater for this amazing feature.

That didn't last long.

A Gang Member with oversized clothes and a crooked sneer escorted two younger Future Gang Members to seats right in front of me.

The entire theater is empty sans me, and they choose the seats in front of me.


Next was Single Mom and Embarrassed Teenage Daughter, who decided that four seats to my left would be rather comfortable for a viewing of the Dark Knight. Throughout the entire film, Embarrassed Teenage Daughter kept shooshing her mother so she could fantasize about Christian Bale without interruption.

Following their entrance was Obese Middle Aged Man with his friends Overpriced Snacks. Apparently I was attracting the masses today because he sat behind me.

Throughout the film my view was occasionally obstructed by what appeared to be bits of popcorn flying through the air.

It was Obese Middle Aged Man exhaling popcorn as he grunted, laughed and whispered, "Go Batman," as the film unspooled.

He reminded me of Comic Book Guy from the "Simpsons." patron...ever.

The final guests that caught my attention this afternoon were Giggly Teenage Trio. The fabric of their clothes was 40% skimpier than it should have been relative to their young ages. Giggly Teenage Trio exploded in giggly excitement every time Christian Bale suddenly was sans shirt.

They were also very vocal when Katie Holmes appeared braless onscreen for several minutes near the end of the film, nipples at full attention.

I wish to thank Miss Holmes for raising my review of this film from an A- to an A+.

Tom Cruise hopping on couches makes complete sense now.

Fortunately the Rogues Gallery in the theater couldn't take away from my full enjoyment of one of the most relatable icons of superherodom I've ever had the opportunity to experience.

The pace was perfect in the first hour as we view how Bruce Wayne uses his tragedy to become a celebrated symbol of justice in Gotham City.

I'm glad Christopher Nolan and the suits at Warner Brothers freed up the purse springs to allow Morgan Freeman, Liam Neeson, Ken Watanabe, Cillian Murphy, Gary Oldman and Michael Caine to bring some validity and realism to the world of Batman.

I liked the fact that regardless of what the villians were conspiring, you never knew where Batman was coming from. He used every skill he learned in the first half of the film to defeat the villians, and it was exhilerating.

Their was only one scene that reminded me of the previous Batman films, the first of which is the only one I truly feel nearly reached the essence of Batman's world. In the last fifteen minutes, we see Batman suit up by seeing him shove on a glove, stretch on the cowl and grab a weapon or two. I immediately flashed back to "Batman & Robin" where we are traumatized by shots of Batman's butt and his protruding nipples.


And the ending, pitch perfect. All of the villians the Gotham Police have rounded up have escaped from Arkham Asylum, all of them, and Lieutenant Gordon shows a quick file of one of them to Batman.

It's the Joker.

Nolan has announced that the Joker will be the main villian of the second film and the third will deal with the trail of the Joker and the introduction of Two-Face.

To Christopher Nolan, I say only this...

Come back. Come back and bring your talented staff from the first film with you.

And pay them double.

And Mr. Nolan, may I throw in my less than talented hat to become a minor villian in the next film:

Dialysis Man.

I do my best to filter the evil out of society using a less than workable dialysis machine from the 1950's.

Batman doesn't believe my torcherous vigilanteism is appropriate for Gotham.

I team up with the Joker to filter laughing gas into the atmosphere over Gotham.

Batman of course kicks my ass in the end and places the Joker in Arkham to await sentencing.

$300 million domestic box office, minimum.

I can be reached through my blog at

Holy Bad Ideas Batman!

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Stacy Vacation 2005: Day 5: Six Flags Over Napping

I have disappointing people, and I believe I've done so for my beautiful Greek Goddess.

Tuesday morning I awoke to a fatigue not experienced by most. It was the kind of tired that melts into your skin, swims through your blood stream and commands you not to arise.

So I called my Greek Goddess, only to discover that irony had dialed the number first.

She wasn't feeling up to it either.

For some reason, that didn't really make me feel any better.

I didn't realize how much the trip to Tucson had taken out of me. I do my best to have a normal life just like the rest of the American populace, but then my body speaks differently.

The rest of the day turned out to be rather mediocre (and most likely, so will the rest of this posting.)

I decided to continue working on the Stacy Tan 2005, just to show the staff at work that maybe, possibly, I had some goddamn fun over my vacation.

Then I began the Stacy Cleaning 2005. I decided to concentrate on the kitchen, dining room and living room and leave the rest for tomorrow.

Ted, my Italian brother, would be visiting on Thursday, and I didn't want him to see how a dialysis patient truly lives.

I actually enjoy having a truly clean apartment, it's just that I don't really possess the energy necessary to fulfill such a venture.

But I did it anyway.

And then I collapsed into a tired mess onto my bed and napped for a good 2 1/2 hours.

When I awoke, I panicked, because I thought I was supposed to be on the air.


Before I turned in for the evening, I sulked in the realization that my vacation was half over.

And that I had no desire to return to my annoying job.

None whatsoever. Hold on. Let me check.

Nope. My give a damn seems to be busted.

Tomorrow it's all about Christian Bale and the nipple-less Batsuit and Katie Holmes proving that bra's are overrated.

To quote the always intriguing Batman:

"Green Lantern blows."

Thank you and good night.

Monday, July 04, 2005

Stacy Vacation 2005: Day 4: Cattle Drive

This day actually began at the God awful hour of 2am.

I kept hearing really bad covers of songs from my past coming from "The Tap Room."

I didn't discover until the next morning that it was karaoke night.

I thought they'd hired a really bad cover band.

"Oh my gawd he is so fucking cute but I don't want to let him know I want to fuck him."

It's as though somebody transported a hoochie sorority girl into my hallway and she's reciting dialogue from a really bad episode of "The O.C."

"It'll cost you five bucks to see the tattoo on my ass!"

Could someone tattoo a muzzle on your mouth so we can all get some well deserved sleep??

"I have a horse penis. I call him Mr. Ed."

Jeezusschristomighty you people are frickin' retards. Is this what the University of Arizona, Tucson is cranking out...dim-witted porn stars?

I finally did manage to get some sleep when a number of them retired to a room.

The next morning was a little sad because my short-lived trip to Tucson was nearly over.

I had the Continental Breakfast as Nakai begged for "waa-waa."

Translation: "Mother, I would care for some ice to chew while you and my uncle discuss the finer points of his transportation today."

Or something like that.

My baby sister, Nakai and myself took a few pictures by the stairwell. For some reason, my sister has this amazing ability to blink just as the flash is going off.

This makes her look rather druggish on film.

She e-mailed the pictures back and I'm all puffy from all the fluid I had put on from my trip.

I despise looking at myself on dialysis days. I'm so gross. And now it's captured on film.


As I left I couldn't help thinking how much I enjoyed spending time with everyone, especially my little nephew.

He's going to have all the girls begging for his attention by the time he gets to preschool.

Lucky son-of-a-gun.

I waved goodbye as their car pulled away, realizing I really didn't want to deal with air travel, this being 72 hours since I'd had a dialysis treatment.

Southwest Airlines issues you a boarding pass with the letters A, B and C indicating the order in which you'll be getting on the plane.

Fortunately I had seen the ticket counter on my arrival and had already printed out my boarding pass.

I lined up like a fatigued cow in the "A" like behind the most gourgeous raven haired temptress.

She had shoulder length jet black hair that cascaded down her shoulders, alluring brown eyes and a colorful sundress adorning her slim figure.

"Will you marry me?"

That's what I thought as I looked in her eyes to say, "Hello."

"Ugh, hi," she spit out as she entered some digits into her cell phone.

"I'm a wealthy playboy riding on Southwest Airlines to see how the other half lives. Want to dash this scene and make our way to my private jet?"

I thought I'd try my ESP using honesty and depravity.

"I want to rip off that sundress and join the mile high club."


We all hustled single file onto the plane and made our annoying way back to San Jose, where another two hour drive awaited me.

At least I didn't have to pay for parking thanks to my good friend Ted.

Tuesday & Wednesday I'll clean my apartment and prepare for Ted's arrival to my scenic bachelor pad.

I wish I didn't have to go back to work.

Sunday, July 03, 2005

Stacy Vacation 2005: Day 3: Nakai the Breakfast Show

"Ouch! Goddamnit! Jeezus that's frickin' cold!"

An exact quote from the shower of my room at the Hotel Congress in downtown Tucson.

It's a fantastic hotel, filled with loads of history involving the final capture of the outlaw John Dillinger.

And plumbing possessed by his rascally ghost apparently.

On my final morning in my room I finally figured out (damn I'm dopey) that if you adjust the cold faucet and NOT the hot, you may be able to have a fully enjoyable shower without screaming obscenities.

Every breakfast I've had in Tucson has been more entertaining than any show UPN is trolling out over the airwaves simply because of my nephew Nakai.

In fact, if there were a 24 hour cable channel of his antics, I would subscribe immediately.

Once Nakai is set into his high chair, he immediately needs to grab...something. Anything. Preferably colorful or shiny.

His parents usually bring a toy and a few stuffed critters, but they usually end up on the floor many yards away.

Or in someone else's lap.

Internally, I'm laughing hysterically. I smile, but make sure not to laugh, because that would negatively reinforce the behavior.

And probably upset my sister and her husband.

So I smile and continue to watch as Nakai carefully organizes the silverware on the table, over and over and over again.

Usually they have to hide the sugar packets because they're colorful and fun to tear open.

I also enjoyed the continued spooning of ice cubes in front of him. He loves to chew them with his extremely sharp teeth.

He gets that from his grandmother and uncle. We love chewing ice. It's a stress reliever.

Once departing the Nakai Breakfast Show (hey, it's free!), we took a drive up to the very top of Mount Lemmon.

It's over 8000 feet in elevation at the top.

And 20 degrees cooler.

Did I mention it was over 100

This was also fantastic because I hadn't had any exercise since I arrived, and that's my primary way of eliminating fluid from my weary body.

We hiked (ok, I'll be honest, everyone except Nakai...he was driven up) to a stream nearby and watched as Nakai was fully engrossed in rock throwing.

Sure, he can't pick up the bigger rocks, but boy can he heave them.

He wandered over in my direction and I put my arm out so he wouldn't fall.

His grip is memorable, if not a little painful.

He reached down into a small puddle and pulled something out to hand to me.

It was a spider.

I jumped straight off my sitting rock, but it didn't phase Nakai. Off he was to another rock.

He loves to organize, especially nature.

We then made our way back to Tucson and stopped by this amazing record store. Big as a grocery store and filled with records, I asked where the comedy records were.

I had to be escorted because they were all the way in the back, back, back.

I began to hear heavenly angels singing. A beam of bright light filled the room.

An entire row of hundreds upon hundreds of comedy records.

I walked away with Don Rickles, a Steve Martin album I never knew existed, George Carlin and a Frank Sinatra to frame for my wall.

All in all a good haul.

Dinner was some fantastic mexican food.

I'm using "fantastic" a lot in this post, aren't I?

Well, I had a great time.

I miss my baby sister immensely, and finally had a chance to get to know my brother-in-law better.

Once we arrived back at their home, Nakai made the announcement that it was time for bed.

Uh, ok.

My sister went to put him down while my brother-in-law browsed his movie collection.

You know how when you tell someone you haven't seen a certain movie, like, you know, "Reservoir Dogs" you get that look of astonishment, like your head just exploded or something?

That was the expression I was handed.

Which is why the movie was immediately started.

Tarantino is a God when it comes to bubbling, memorable dialogue that dips into your memory and leaves an amazing aftertaste.

At least that's what I believe.

After that it was time for me to turn in. I hadn't travelled anywhere since dialysis began over a year ago and I was beat.

Tomorrow I'll have to leave, but I'll be ready, only because my body needs an oil change.

If you hadn't already surmised, my family rules.

And I love them very much.

The maudlin level of this post is gurgling over, so I must conclude.

Nephew's rule.