quick recap

In the last 7 months of my life I have somehow managed to unwaveringly befriend some of the most creative, ridiculous, adventurous, energetic, beautiful, celebratory, caringly open-minded, charmingly aware, excitedly youthful, intensely motivated, wildly attractive, intimidatingly charismatic, pregnantly dry, unwieldidly splendid, painfully artistic, enthusiastically inquisitive, (endearingly evil), art-loving, honest-speaking, risk-taking, freedom-finding and resoundingly remarkable people I've ever met in my life.

Point is, I wanted to acknowledge that I feel quite rich with friends today. Hurray. which is awesomely ironic because 7 months ago I knew a total of 2 people in LA. Crazy to me, how impossible things tend to blend into possibleness given a little time and patience.

Cheesy, i know.. suck it up with a straw, suckers. :)

Mikie

social studies

This being part of society thing ain't easy all the time. Honestly, I don't know how some people do it! Seems like you never get a free minute, leafblowers are everywhere, nobody trusts each other, homeless guys are smarter businessmen than I, and honestly if you're unlikable for 2 seconds you fall rungs down the friend ladder faster than you can say 'just kidding!'
what was it, maybe two years ago this June that i was committed to burning all my money and running away from society forever (something to do with my passionate following of the Chris McCandless story). Nothing was more desirable to me than packing everything i owned into a backpack, slinging it around my shoulders and venturing away from pretty much everything. Here i am two years later in the exact town I left (Burbank, technically) a little wiser but seeing how far behind i am because of my strange exodus.

It's kind of awesome. I never expected to look back on leaving LA as being a good and useful part of my history, but now that I'm here again with more than an ounce of realism having washed away the steam from my eyes, I can see the value in emancipating myself from a major life choice, only to return again.

Still, I'm waaay behind. For example, i've been dating girls for almost three decades and i swear to goodness i don't understand them any better now than I did in kindergarten when i was kissing Kylie on the bus (and getting yelled at by the driver). Still no clue. Nope. Sure I've learned a couple ways to accommodate for others' idiosyncracies and differences, but when you're down to those 1-on-1 moments I'm still a freakin kindergartner. Why would i blog about that? Too late, no editing.

Whatever. Society is a crazy breed, and so I'm happy to be working on a solidly impossible goal by choice, so much that I'm having a hard time pulling away. As Alex Rogers said two nights ago, we're beautifully on edge. So be it. ;)

Mikie

We were talking about Macbeth

and then two minutes before my show a string broke on my guitar. Did I salvage the night? Yes. Thanks to one of Michael's kid friends who just happen to have a guitar with him. Additionally, two minutes before the show ended, the last track (which includes music and voiceovers, for those of you who haven't seen it) started skipping. So we're looking up at nothingness "thinking" as the voiceovers are remix-style skipping. It was actually funny, and a quaint way to finish an otherwise fun night of performing.

You know what I love about this play?
That I get to eat two homemade chocolatechip/coconut/oatmeal cookies during the run of each performance. That and about twenty swedish fish (or gummi sharks, as we had tonight). Good thing there's only three performances left, otherwise this show would be giving me diabetes. But NOT good thing, since many of you haven't seen it and I would love that number to decrease. Especially those folks living in a little town between Sacramento and Fairfield *referencing only one folk in particular, but I don't know the singular for folk*. So, sugar rush and a Racer 5 are completing my night.

Where is everybody else tonight?
Someone's in the other room watching futball
Someone's standing in the motor court at the W
Someone's sitting on his couch playing Red Dead Redemption
Someone's sleeping on his couch with the silent TV glowing in his living room
Someone's in a condo in the outskirts of Sacramento with a drink in her hand and a smile on her face, lost in the moment.
Someone's in her tent asleep, the only sounds she hears the soft rolling of water a dozen feet away
Someone's kissing her boyfriend, wishing he really was Justin Beiber
Someone's kissing her husband, rolled up in bed, happy that he's the father of her beautiful children
Someone's in a trailer along the coast, thinking about the day she just had but excited to get home
Someone's in a car, talking at the top of her lungs and feeling free for the first time in weeks because things are looking good and she's surrounded by wonderful people
Somebody's staring at himself in the mirror, totally lost, would give anything to throw it all away and start over
Somebody lying next to a woman he doesn't love with children he doesn't know driving cars he doesn't care about to a job he doesn't like anymore
Somebody's digging through a full garbage can drinking leftover coffee cups and unwrapping crumpled fast food papers
Somebody's thinking about the love he can't wait to have
Somebody's sad about the love he left behind
Somebody's staring at the ceiling of his bedroom next to his sleeping wife, wondering how he got himself into all this mess but knowing that it was worth it. Every second of the work he's done up to this point was worth it
Somebody's typing and staring at a white screen, drinking a Racer 5 and thinking about all y'all
Goodnight guys
Mikie

DON'T BE ALARMED

I changed my blog around a bit. Don't run away screaming, it's temporary.
If not, deal with the orange SUCKAS
not really. I'll fix it later, I just ran out of time. I have to go record my voice somewhere for something.

lates foolios

Mikie

newnessness

Spontaneous Summer Solstice party a Smashing Success.

That being said, happy descent back towards the sun people. As we make our approach, I hope the lot of you are gearing up for a solid second half of 2010. This year has been one of life-changing epic proportions, and there's no reason to slow that momentum now!

Let's take a moment to enjoy the newness..

ahhh.

What do you mean, you don't understand? Newness. Life's new things. Letting go of old habits and stepping out of wrinkled skin into new ways of living and breathing. Keeping it real. Live and let Live. Be all you can be. Wake up and smell the petunias.

Two nights ago I watched Toy Story 3 at the awesome Krakhouse theatre in Monrovia. Before the movie, Pixar exhibited a little short as they usually do. This one was interesting to me because it made a statement. I mean what mainstream, multi-million dollar animated feature would dare to risk making a statement these days? Hmm. Well being a Banana Slug (UCSC graduate) we all know about what it means to 'make a statement'. For crying out loud, I can't tell you how many picket lines I happily drove across trying to get to my classes on time..

In fact, after years of watching people try to make a statement at college and never fully succeeding, I developed a 2-part theory about society and the vigilantes within who wish to shake the aged from their wrinkled skins and look at the world from a new light. My theory is this:

There are two ways to effect social change:
1 - Violent Revolution from the outside in
2 - Quiet Revolution from the inside out

At UCSC, the former was the primary and most popular way to get local society to listen. This usually included picketing, riots, mass violence, hateful acts, shouting, cursing, anger, disgust and on the rare occasion egg-throwing (see also: Santa Cruz Borders Books opening, 2004). Now this kind of revolution can occasionally work. But it also pisses people off and creates division. I prefer to take the second, more pleasant approach: change from within.
The short before Toy Story 3 seemed to do just that - it hooked us as the audience with a universally relatable idea, developed our trust and took us along for a little ride. Then somewhere at the end, it made a brief statement - nothing huge, just a general recognition that people can get stuck in their ways and reject newness, and in that way the world won't grow. It was a polite and clever way of helping us audience members remember that trying something new isn't a bad thing at all but could result in new pleasures and positive awareness.

Why do I care about this? The cartoon was preachin to the choir in my world. But for me it was almost relieving to see it attached to a majorly-distributed kids film.. I mean, how often is a polite and effective statements made outside the arena of cultish circles or academic cliques? We're so used to people opting for Revolution #1 that it was refreshing to see some Revolution #2 for a change, especially when put out by such a large company as Pixar. Well done.

There's my spiel du jour. Let's go effect some positive, trustworthy change folks. Adios

Mikie

I feel like there's something missing
but I just don't know what

I need something new, some new perspective for a fresh point of view. to slap me in the face and open my eyes and pull me out of this maelstrom of inactive anxiety where my only energy outlet is outdoor solo sojourns.
Here's the problem: I know exactly what I want. It's very simple and mundane. It took me a while to figure it out, but once I did I was 150% sold. Why a problem? Because getting from what you have to what you want is like stepping out onto a ledge over a chasm, seeing the other side 50 miles away and wondering how to get from A to B without any tools, instructions or people to guide you. Or like being on an island in the middle of a warm sunny blizzard with no clue as to where you should be going next - like that one time I was kicked out of Kirkwood and drove my beatup Honda up Carson Pass in the middle of a whiteout blizzard, got to the top and couldn't see out my windows at the edge of a cliff so I had to just choose a direction and go. Trusting the gut. What happened? I reversed down a 9% grade to a safe point, busted out my rusty chains and broke the skin of my fingers dancing between the driver's seat and the snowy slope to make my ill-fitting chains wrap around too-large tires in the lonely white and black of a desolate Sierra snow storm. It was nice, one of those slap-in-the-face-new-perspective moments that I could use right now.
Maybe that's what's missing, more trial and error.
Not enough trial, too much error.
Who knows. I'll leave it at that

apple vs rock

There you are standing vertically, miniature on this orblike floating world that's stuck in a colorless infinite nothingness covered in clear liquid between heaps of hot and cold minerals surrounded by billions upon billions of varieties of the exact same DNA structure consuming each other then dying or multiplying and dying for 5.5 billion years, long after an inexplicable explosion billions of light years away began pushing everything away from itself, slowly, forever.
And it's a beautiful day. The sky is blue, the air cool. Somebody smiled at you, your phone buzzes as a friend calls. Down the street is a your favorite breakfast cafe, but you need to go to Trader Joe's.
The planet Mars floats lifeless and quiet. Red dust moves in little tufts as pressures rise and fall, air molecules get pushed in invisible clouds. A few gusts of wind tap softly against a little round red rock, perched over a bunch of smaller red rocks. The wind is mild, and the rock is pushed forward a bit by its force. Inching the rock down towards the edge of the other rocks, the wind moves it closer and closer to a red hill that slopes down just beyond. The wind picks up as pressure changes and a stronger gust whips at the moving red rock. The littler rocks underneath it sink away and gravity starts to pull the red rock over them, into the dust and off from its other rocks towards the hill.
Inside Trader Joe's you pick up an apple and look at it. It has a bruise on one side, so you put it back down. You pick another, two bruises, and put it back. Taking a moment you scan the neatly uniformed pile of apples and see a perfect round one just big enough. You pick it up, turn it over, and on the back there's a little brown gouge from shipping that you frown at. Frustrated, you quickly put it back down. Three apples below it give away and slip from their places, dashing down the pile and towards the edge in a rush of speed.
The pebbles have pushed away and the red rock begins to roll. Gravity takes hold of it and in a steady new urge the rock's rolling down the hill towards the bottom. A tail of dust spits up behind it and a little path is carved as the rock spins fasterin its travels. The rock now rolls steadily towards a brand new crop of rocks at the base of the slope.
The three apples reach the edge and jump off. You scramble to catch them all but your hands are only big enough for two and with an "ahh!" the third apple thuds against the tiled floor. The lady next to you cocks her head.
The red rock rolling careens closer to its new outcropping. Ten feet away, five, three feet, one...
in the silence of the Martian landscape a little bang echoes in the wind.
You stoop to pick up the third apple and look at the lady, embarrassed. She shakes her head, pushes her cart forward and moves away. You smile because it's still a lovely day, put the apple back on the pile and move on.

The END!

(based on a true story)

Mikie

mini-thoughts

Why do people sit in their parked cars
I eat food and spend money in quite the same fashion
Today I bought a video game that cost less than my day's gasoline
I have a love/hate relationship with people that don't ask
Unlimited text messages = Christmas every day
River water is nature's running bathhouse
"will the mountain last as long as i can wait" -Iron & Wine
We're always 5 minutes away from being in the mid-19th century
My heart lives in the old west
If God created Chocolate then Satan created Peanut Butter.
Oops. Too much Tabasco, not enough scramble.
Thanks sun, I needed that.
What keeps biting me
I love eating fruit picked from the wild
(aka blackberries, oranges, apples, grapes, grapefruits, cherries, pears, figs and now mulberries)
Go confidently in the direction of your dreams -Thoreau
Come see my play "Elevator" at the Hudson Guild Theatre!
Get naked, a trail

Poison oak

tiny little Rockies

31 Flavors, 1 middle finger

the last thing I want to see before I die

a building

chillaxin for the bus

Crazy Legs lovin the iPad

VIPOS status

don't fight it

You can take the boy out of the country... but

wait, we're still in the country. It's just a city within it.. nearly defenseless against it's natural counterpart. Yet we raise these mental bulwarks to block out the wild winds of the desert, echoing mountain ranges, ranging animals, canyon-gouging rivers, billowing thunderstorms, etc etc etc.

I rode my bike today around a river and beneath the overgrown underpasses crisscrossing the foothills of my Pasadena mountains. It was a glorious ride, full of rocky descents and colorful flowers and weeds. I found a little makeshift bridge crossing a steady stream surrounded by unkempt foliage. I stopped to feel the sun on my skin and smell the must of the late spring pollen. It was so quiet, and I noticed that there was nobody out there with me on the little trail save one girl who jogged by, sweating and smiling.

I eventually came to an opening that put me at the edge of a large and luxurious golf course, wrapped by a running track that was painted/sanded/prepped nicely. The track was smothered with hundreds of people jogging and playing in matching workout clothes and welltuned family patterns. Girls roller-bladed, kids biked, rich men ran, wives struggled to keep up. Hundreds of people.

Now, I understand comfort. I really do. But why is it that people never have an instinct to venture off the beaten path?
It takes a split second to see the trail, follow it and enjoy where it takes you; see what little learning experience or adventure you can discover. These trails all exist, but nobody occupies them! Instead everyone just jogs along in a boring circle around a flat, perfect track surrounding a landscaped golf course.

I don't really mind. I have my fun, and people will do what they do. They'll build cement canals for water that's already flowing the same direction through a valley floor. They'll build a high-rise in Burbank and hope that somebody rents out the office space. They'll overstock their shelves with 50 versions of the same thing then sit and wait. They'll listen to the radio and watch movies and TV then have a low opinion for aspiring artists. They'll get angry when the toilet clogs. They'll take the lettuce out of their sandwiches. They'll wear shoes and jeans when it's hot out. They'll talk and talk and talk. They'll jog on repeat around a single golf course track while surrounded by dozens of beautiful, eclectic forest trails.
They'll do endless amounts things that don't make sense to me, but I love people regardless. And if they're happy then I'm happy too. Just so nobody gets hurts.

Mikie

breakdown Koreatown

Last night my car wouldn't start in the backstreets of Koreatown (near downtown LA) and at the same time my telephone died. A group of mexican kids walked up and started looking in the windows of my tattered vehicle and I realized that it might be time for me to get a better car.

Of course, the mexican kids were really cool. I rolled down my window to say hello and avoid negative confrontation and they were all "Hey! you need a jump? We have cables, we're right here" (funny how the media has conditioned us to be scared and judgmental in mildly untame situations). I was cool with them "nah it's cool man. It has this problem.. just takes a few minutes to start." He was persistent, but eventually they walked off and I just sat there in the Los Angeles darkness waiting to see if my car really would start.
Not good. No starting.

See, my car has this problem. It's called the Badfuelpump+ruinedstarter+unfixablehead=Nostarting+baddriving problem. Unfortunately, however, if you jimmy the ignition timing and pedals in just the right amount of steps, you can get the automobile to eventually fire up and drive away ("unfortunately" because if I have the ability to jimmy something to make it work I will continue to jimmy it until the end of time. Why do you think I purposely shattered my old Razr phone?)
here's the breakdown:

1 - pump the gas a couple times
2 - depress clutch, turn key *briefly* then turn off!
3 - pump gas couple more times, release and depress clutch
4 - turn key, turn off! release and depress clutch, turn key, turn off! (turn offs because the battery will die quickly otherwise)
5 - STOP. Wait about 14 seconds (check your Facebook)
6 - Repeat steps 1-5

this WILL work. I've been doing it since October. These steps, repeated, will get the car started in anywhere between 1 and 15 minutes. But last night, around midnight, in Koreatown, with a dead phone, after 15 minutes, it wasn't starting.
So I just sat there, eyebrows locked in a scrunch.

Occasionally a bum or strung-out person would saunter by. I stared ahead at the cross streets in front of me. See, usually when I park my car I do so with the awareness that this could be the last time I ever turn it off. But lately I've been running around between rehearsals and jobs so much, I've been tending to forget that my car has this terminal ailment that will, someday, eliminate my car's ability to function (I leave it running when I get gas. Pretty bad news). Sitting in Koreatown I realized that this is it. This is that day. And of course, what better place in my ever-lucky life to be caught carless and phoneless..

And then it started.

I REVVED that engine like an excited child! Brrrrrrooom brroooooooommm!!! and drove off.

Point is, I need a new or different car. Driving home, I was even thinking about what options I had. What options DO I have?
When somebody needs a car and has very limited funds to even pay their bills, what the heck do they do? Is it always a family member or friend that helps them out? What do you do when that's not available? I mean, a car loan isn't reasonable because I'm barely scraping by as it is! What is the norm here. I feel like I'm missing something.

Sidenote: When I finally get enough money to survive, here's exactly what I'm gonna do:

1 - get a better vehicle
2 - FILL my cupboards. I mean, completely stock every single one of them. I'm cashing that check and heading straight for Trader Joe's, buying 5 of everything, and the cart, pushing it all the way home and spending an hour just stocking all my food shelves and fridge compartments. Full. Brimming.There's gonna be food falling on the floor.
3 - go see a triple-feature at the Arclight

The catch? You need a reliable car to get a better job, which is where I'm at now.

Folks, let me just say this: sure there's a lesson or two to be learned when having to earn every penny of your own since you were 15, but if you're that guy or girl who's parents will help you out in a time of need and lend you a car/food/money while you're out living on your own then for goddsake APPRECIATE IT.

The end.

Mikie

Money

People get weird about money. Seriously, It's got to be one of the most uncomfortable subjects for most Americans to talk about.

So I'm gonna write a blog about it. Get ready to squirm.

Money amazes me. I have very small amounts of the stuff, but from my little social vista (overlooking vast valleys of independent wealth, spoiled young, year-round blossoms, volcanos bubbling up in all-consuming clouds of golden bills and fashionable automobiles) I can only ask myself, "whaaaat???"

Let me clarify.

You know what I'm talking about here. That guy who rolls up in his 2010 Porsche Carrera, steps out in his perfectly-coifed collared shirt with two busty women in LBD's on each arm, stiff hair and smoothed brown skin pulled tight around his chin under eyes that frighten you as he passes by, then two seconds later a homeless man with misshapen legs and a crooked walk saunters next to him in spit-covered jeans browned with dried muck and soot, wobbling under two lazy eyes gazing separately, humming an indiscernable tune from his wrinkled, shrunken chin and withered neck, smiling. You double-take between the rich man and the homeless guy, scrunch your eyebrows and think "whaaaat???"

Very whaaaat-worthy. No wonder people get uncomfortable. Because there's such an intense discussion, a world-wide can of worms just waiting to be popped open at a moments notice.. but nobody talks about it.

What if Carreraman had to spend a day in Homelessman's shoes, and vice versa? Homelessman would probably enjoy the experience, but would Carreraman? probably not.. why not?

I think Fear. My conjecture: Carreraman is scared to death because, even though he has lots and lots of money, he's afraid that someday he'll end up just like Homelessman (a terribly foreign and therefore negative thing). Maybe in a NY second he'll be felled to his knees and find himself crammed between the trash cans and waste water of the city streets with ownership over nothing. For Carreraman, this is a terrifying threat, and so he fights harder and harder for financial Kingship to avoid his own harsh reality. It's about survival for him.. he wouldn't survive in Homelessman's world because he's just not strong enough.

At the same time so saunters the Homelessman in his baseness without a care but for where he'll find his next beer and bit of leftovers. He can go to the beach tomorrow, sleep wherever he likes, sing at the top of his lungs, leave town at his leisure, play all day long and make friends with everybody. Total baseness, and total freedom.
I mean, who gets to live like that? Sounds more like a life of luxury than baseness.
Something only reserved for the richest men in the world.

So which is which?

well, I don't know. Just thinking. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I largely avoided the sore spots.

Mikie

Tie Dye Revolution

I predict the next big fashion trend revival is going to be Tie Dye.

To help muster things along (or "budge the boulder" so to speak) I'm going to set down a few preparations from someone who's TieDye-in-the-know, so that when the great TD-Day occurs, you'll be ready.

1 : Learn HOW to Tie Dye
- it's quite simple
- 3rd graders do it
- revive those grungy whites with a new look! Recycling!

2 : Take it slow
- Nobody like the guy who wears TD every single day.
- be patient - girls will be drawn to you but you must be patient.

3 : Start clashing NOW
- begin to assimilate a lack-of-match back into your wardrobe.
- try on things that don't look good together. Think 80s
- actually wear these clashing outfits out. supafly!

4 : Fall in Love
- once you start wearing Tie Dye regularly, you'll need someone there to back you up "just in case"
- Dinner and a movie in matching Tie-Dyed Snuggies is totally awesome
- Tie Dying alone can be depressing. Trust me.

5 : Tie Dye ALL your socks and underwear
- colorful swirls in your undies? I know.

6 : You're A Man. Be Proud
- This goes for women too

7 : If all else fails, wear TD to bed
- loose-fitting shirts, or "Daddy's Shirts" (for the ladies)

DO's and DONT's

DONT - wear matching TD'd shirts and shorts
DONT - Tie Dye wifebeaters and then never wear them
DONT - acknowledge TD once you've put it on. People will see it
DONT - grow dreadlocks unless you have a compelling, socially sound explanation

DO - wear TD on a 2nd date.
DO - walk nonchalantly through business sectors
DO - Thank others for their numerous compliments
DO - sweat profusely and forget to wash the shirt until a month later
DO - get excited!!! The Tie Dye Revolution is upon us!!

Mikie

(This message is dedicated to Dan Beckner, because he's waiting in the truck)

Long Live Richard Dunn

Today the crazy world lost an old and wonderful man named Richard Dunn. It makes me sad, because hardly a month ago I stopped him on Hollywood Blvd to tell him how great he was....and he talked my ear off.

He talked about his 2 Facebook pages, he told me about how he hasn't been on Tim n' Eric much this season but hopes he gets to do more. He talked about his past and his life now and shopping.. and as we talked his bus came and he started running his lanky legs as fast he could to catch up with it. The stop was about 100 yards away, and I sprinted ahead of him in my black W clothes, jumped in the bus door and told the bus driver to wait for him. She didn't mind and he caught up soon enough with his shoulder sack, loafers and cardigan. As he got on the bus I told him how nice it was to meet and talk to him. He thanked me.
So if you don't mind, please take a moment out of your day to commemorate this man, the coolest celebrity I've ever met, and be happy for the laughs and jolliness he's brought for all of us. Thank you Richard for being so strange and amazing, and knowing it the whole time. We love you.

Mikie

A word's worth a thousand hair extensions

just a thought.

I have this friend who's good with her words. I can't really describe it, except that she spells things outright and uses slang properly, and takes a little extra time before sending text messages, but stays classy (San Diego). and it's sexy. In fact, there is much sexiness to be had in good wordplay! If you have an ear for phonetics and grammar, wit and response and can tie it all together with nonchalance and/or seamless dry cynicism, then I applaud you and will respond in kind while finding you truly attention-worthy. Because there is something so sexy about a girl who's good with her words.

Bye.

Play

After making a little play in the park outside the Rose Bowl, I just ran into Adam Whatshisname (the main guy on Party Down and other things) in downtown Pasadena. Twas a nice little momentary hello, and again I'm reminded that what seems so horrifically impossible to achieve really isn't all that far away from my reality, sometimes by a matter of feet.

Back to my little play in the park. I jaunted from bench to bench cursing Bastard speeches (Henry IV Part. II?), King Lear groans and the occasional rant from my current play Elevator to the weeds and overgrown amphitheater tucked away between the trees. I have a forest stage too which I've discovered over there (my Secret Garden, so hidden and well-guarded that none shall pass into my realm of pure imagination!) where I climb the top end of a fallen tree and chant sweet nothings to the chipmunks, lizards and stupid weeds (the weeds I see as such base things, I have no guilt in tearing them to shreds with verse). From my stage I noticed a tree growing up at a slant, some kind of sycamoresque thing reaching with its oval bunches of green leaves towards the sky, and I realized I could run right up the side of it - which i hesitated but did anyhow. Solid like a Mowgli, I run right up its trunk and stood in the nook where all branches meet. Awesome.

On my way out of the park, the dirt trail wound round and I took it with abandon. I started to wonder if there's a person in this forsaken place that enjoys playing outdoors like this .. I mean really, what's in an age? You say you're 28 and people are like "Oh my gosh, no way" but what's the big deal? Do I have to be fat, bearded and lazy? Is it so bad to still enjoy playing and being positive even into your early thirties? I mean we're still kids for crying out loud.. looking for work and all, but beneath we're just PLAYING with all this extra time between meals and sleep. Right?

If these were preagricultural days we'd be spending every waking hour scrounging for pieces of food, like cows grazing the fields. But no, we ruined ourselves by developing a means for working nature's order by growing food at our leisure, and BAM! We're released to do anything else our little hearts desire, so long as we're fed and slept.
The problem is, nature hasn't caught up to us. There isn't really anything else for us TO do; we aren't evolved to have more necessity beyond food/sleep/procreation. If you think about it, once you eat, rest and mate.. what happens next? That's where we get all goofed-up and our imaginations take over. To make up for this lack of necessity we've developed little manmade activities: Education, Religion, Games, Trade, Pleasure, Adventure, even Space Travel. But for what? Why do we do all this extra stuff?

I call it Play. The stuff we do between eating, sleeping, sex, birth and death is all play. We're children who use the word "adult." We go to work, and if we aren't playing the way we want to be playing, at least we're daydreaming about it.

So here I am enjoying a bit of playtime on a Tuesday afternoon when along comes Adam Whatshisname strolling as well. I think to myself, 'how nice that I'm not the only one who enjoys playing' and say hello to him, tell him I like Party Down and continue on my way. Am I right? Does he like to play?
Yes, because
1 - he's a professional actor (a make-believe profession to so many)
2 - he's good at it.
Pretty admirable if you ask me.

Enough of this. Ciao

Mikie