Millers Pub and the Gold Standard

From Eric Lindberg's LINDBLOG:
"Just got back from lunch with Zach Thompson, Tim Chidester, and some hot Jew girl. I forget her name. Wolfman or something? I think she may have a thing for me. (her name is Sara Wolfson, and she’s a funny funny girl who I love) What good good friends.I forget how important it is to sit down and share a laugh or two with friends. I have no joke here. It took all of 45 minutes, and I feel a bout 100 times better than I did before. Life can be very simple to adjust at times huh?"
Replace my name with his, and take the part about wolfman being hot for me, and fix the syntax, and I feel the same way. A good walk and a great lil lunch meeting.
The burger was good, but my current favorite is the Select cut cheeseburger... See my previous posts. The gold standard, believe it or not, currently resides at the Weber Grill restaurant (the backyard bacon cheeseburger). More on that later.

The last few days...

Saturday, as referenced in "Improv: Nothing to Laugh About", we went to the IO 25th anniversary. Our first babysitter-assisted date since the baby was born on May 18th. My wife got bombed and got to meet Mike Myers. I was Charmed by John Lutz all night. We got home around 2 and she hit the couch sleeping upright. I had to tend to the baby, so I got something like 3 hours of sleep that night.
Sunday was domestic. Had a nice visit from my Parents. ...they seem to stop by more often now that the baby's here. She reacts to us now, and that's so profound. My dad was playing with her and he started crying when she reacted to him. It was nice because I had earlier in the morning when she lit up when I sang to her.
Monday I hosted a roast for a good friend (Dan Bakkedahl) who was just hired to the Daily Show. It was a good night, and I didn't ger home 'til 1:30 and got up with the baby again, so I only got like 4 hours sleep. The direct highlight for me was showing the "Improv: Nothing to Laugh About" Article to the audience as part of the introduction to the theater's owner. The indirect highlight? I said goodbye to a gruff old improviser that I know (Miles for those of you who know him) in the parking lot folllowing, and he hugged me. What a surprise...
Yesterday we had CSz Idol where a few of us that aren't strong singers had to basically perform karaoke in front of the rest of the group. We had to memorize the lyrics, and I had a tough time because mine was Def Leppard's "pour some sugar on me". With lyrics like "Mirror Queen, mannequin, Rhythm of Love/Sweet Dream Saccarine, Loosen Up" I had a tough time nailing them. See Kiss' 'I love it loud' for more nonsensical lyrics. Following that, it was to the Union for drinks and some old skool kickin' it. Then I played the Lottery at IO for Bakkedahl's last improv show in Chicago. We reminisced about our first team, Rockstar of Siam,

and other old times. It was great. I also got to see a lot of people from my current team and the team I used to coach, so it almost makes it worth it that as soon as I hit the sheets at 1, the baby got up at 1:20 and 1:45 til I held her to try and get her back to sleep. Then, my bastard dog decided to bark to go out, and then stayed out to eat grass...
So there I was on my front stoop in my underwear holding a baby and a flashlight. I quietly yelled to him to get his ass inside. That, of course, woke the baby. So, I slept upright holding her last night. I had a small victory this morning when my wife admitted that the baby might be collicky... she just doesn't sleep.
Today is bagel day where I work on account of it being pay day. The bagels on paydays was cited in Chicago Magazine when it named us one of the best places to work in Chicago. Unfortunately, we've gone from a great variety of tasty bagels to a new vendor that doesn't even cut them in half. The worst thing about them is that they have no distinct flavor... It might be rye or wheat or flavorless cinnamon... some have poppy seeds or sesame seeds on them, but there are no blueberry or raisin, or any real flavors at all. These all taste like variations on sawdust. I truly wonder how much money the save over the decent bagels (that included an amazing chocolate chip and an even better jalapeno and cheddar). I imagine they lose it anyway since their employees have to spend their time cutting the bagels in half with plastic knives.

This is my dog, Rerun. Can you tell I just learned to insert pictures to this thing?

Improv: Nothing to Laugh about

That was the actual column header for the second half of the Chicago Tribune Article panning the IO 25th anniversary show. I was in attendance at the show, and this article is closest to the mark with regard to the mein in the theater when everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong. The Sun-Times also had an article, but my man Derrel Jevens highlighted some of the bits, and actually made the show sound worth it.
A memorable experience to be sure, but I could feel the audience getting fed up. Especially when they had to re-do some of the bits like the Jack Halpern Birthday celebration. Also, they had pairs of great perfomers like Dratch and Pohler do these scripted bits, but then made them re-run them a second time, and the layperson in the audience was like, "This isn't improvised; maybe none of it is".
The highlight of the evening was a bitter Kevin Fleming pulling the raffle winner:
"And the winner is.. IMPROV! ...Not here? Okay. Let's draw another one."

I busted out the paper when I introed Charna for Dan Bakkedahl's roast last night. I made sure to point out the "Improv: Nothing To Laugh About" headline to the audience.

It was a roast, people!

The Fecal Bandit

Ah, College. I was asked about an inside joke I posted on my Fraternity's Yahoo group. Here's a little tale for you. I hope Al Knutson isn't reading this.
-----Original Message-----
From: Thompson, Zachary
Sent: Monday, August 29, 2005 1:50 PM
To: 'djjones@ilstu.edu'
Subject: RE: [ISUTKE] Tekefest

DJ,
Sorry for the delay... At 302 E. Mulberry, John Roberts, Brian Lamm, Pyro Chanhnourack and I were moving into the "quad", the only 4-person apartment in the building. The quad had been unbelievably trashed for years, but we had finally talked the landlord into putting new carpet in, so we decided to paint it and do everything we could to make it nice. When it got to the bathroom, not only had the slobs that had lived there trashed it, but also we had to use it as the ladies' room for parties. The toilet was such a disaster that we actually unbolted it from the floor and hosed it off in the parking lot. We had come down early to do all this work, and had worked all day. Before I knew it, it was 3 AM, and I realized I had to take an unbelievable dump. Compounding the urgency was the fact that I hadn't all day (I usually average 4 times), and had eaten McDonald's for breakfast, and taco bell for the other two meals... And there sat the toilet in the parking lot.
Anyway, I started knocking on, and then trying doors. Finally, the last door was unlocked. Apartment E. Al Knutson was asleep inside. I tried to ask permission, but I couldn't wake him, so I just went in and took a dump. It was awful. It looked like a black bullfrog, and smelled like someone has sprayed OFF on a pile of shit. As I went to flush, I thought, "No one will ever know if I just leave this". Then, I envisioned Al getting up in the morning and going to take a piss only to see what looked to be a ball of Tar in his toilet and being mortified. So I left it.
My original plan was to try and do it in every apartment so that it became a problem that people would bring up in chapter. I kept imagining chapter meetings where people would be like, "Guys, this has got to stop. My apartment's been hit three times." I think I got to three apartments before people found out who the fecal bandit was, mostly because I would die laughing every time someone found my calling card.
Yours in the Bond,
Zach Thompson
MY 265

Pizza Day

Work ordered pizza for us today. There are fewer simple pleasures in life than a good piece of Pizza. Next time you're not sure what to order, may I suggest the Outlaw? (Outlaw TM & Copyright Tom Sampson). The outlaw is pepperoni, Black Olives, and Sliced tomato. Simple but outstanding.
Very few times have I not been in the mood for pizza. The single time I can recall, my in-laws were in town for Christmas. They wanted to order a pizza on Christmas eve. In order to voice my objection, and incite my religious Mother-In-Law, I said, "We can't order a Pizza on Christmas Eve! Jesus was killed over a pizza".
My current favorite is the Dan's BBQ special from Dan's Pizza in Lisle, IL. It matches the defunct Jake's BBQ Special (Also from Lisle). My all-time least favorite is probably Papa Johns. All dough and little else. In a category all by itself is the pizza I had in at
DaFranco in Sorrento, Italy. It was rectangular, as big as the table, and served covered in arugula. It was amazing, especially after touring the ruins at Pompeii.

Man, This weather!

This weather makes for me operating at my Peak. Fall is my favorite season, and it felt like fall this morning as I drove in. It made me nostalgic. And hungry for Donuts. The problem is, finding a decent place for donuts is like finding a Ponderosa Steakhouse.
The reason? owners that don't give a crap what they serve you. I can't tell you how often I've had Dunkin' Donuts that have looked old when I got them and tasted worse. I have a feeling that people that come from the third world to open their cash-based business have a vastly different standard of "Freshness" because in the back of their mind, they can't fathom throwing away that paperweight-worthy chocolate cake donut. That same donut would feed an entire family in the village they came from. Is that an indictment of America as much as it is an indictment of freshness? Maybe. Probably. But if you're charging me $0.79 per donut, I have the right to expect it to meet my gruelling freshness standards. Gone are the days when Dad would bring a dozen home, and they were all great even three days later. Gone are the days of Mister Donut competing with Dunkin Donuts.
Now are the days of the crapshoot, where the only quality donut chain is so in love with itself that you can barely walk out of there without spending $10 and being up to your balls in assholes calmoring for a hot-off-the-conveyor freebie. Of course, I'm talkin' about Krispy Kreme. I am a fan from back when they didn't sell 'em North of the Mason-Dixon line. And if you've only experienced them when a coworker brings them in, or a gas station or some other such place has a display case, then you're cheating yourself. There's nothing like that hot one fresh off the conveyor...
But I Digress from my crusade against Dunkin Donuts. I have but one thing to add. They opened one of them Combo Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robbins in my town. Not only did I go there and have the guy apologetically mark down the dozen he sold me, knowing it was going to be stale, but I had another guy scoop me a cone of Pistachio on a chewy-stale plain cone. I was moved to call the 800-number then, and all they offered to do was forward my complaint on. They wanted to know if I wanted my name and number passed on to the owners of the franchise location that had wronged me as if my complaint via an 800-number would outweigh my complaints in person.
It makes me nostalgic for real customer service.

Transit Trubbles

So last night I was running late getting out of here. I decided to take a Cab to Union Station so I didn't miss the train. It was cab 214 (All numbers are different, so beware of 214). Anyway, we went from Wacker and dearborn to Wacker and Adams. I should have known there'd be trouble when the guy was braking in advance of yellow lights. At Adams, I said, " I'm gonna jump out here and try to make this train." I handed the guy a $20, and said, "Can I get 14 back?" The fare was just over $4, so it would have been a good tip. Of course, he asks if I have change, then when I say no, he just sits there. After what seems like an eternity, I say, "Look, chief, I took this cab 'cause I'm in a hurry to make the train." Then he's like, "I have to make change". It's fairly common for cabbies to make change with other cabbies, but I feel like I only see it at taxi stands, where you have a hope of seeing another cab. This guy makes a right onto Adams, then creeps through the light after the bridge. He gets out and SAUNTERS to another cab who doesn't have change, then even more slowly makes is way to another cab that breaks my 20 for 2 10s. I think that I'm gonna miss my train, so I say. " Just give me the 10, asshole." When he laughs at me, I look at his cab and say, "214. I got it, asshole, and I'll call it in." And I did. I lodged a complaint on 311. Who drives a cab without change for a $20? I was so close so many times to just snatching my 20 back and taking off. I'm not dishonest, though, and you never know what people will do. I just read an article in the reader about that cabbie that got murdered by being run over by his own cab inLakeview not long ago. Apparently, there's a website that you can go to to lodge complaints against him, and the most notorious story involves him holding two women captive after they got in the cab and noticed the meter already running with a fee on it. When they brought it up, he was like, "You bitches are going to pay". They tried to get out at a red light, and he jumped out ant beat the shit out of them and tried to force them back into his cab, slamming one girl's legs in the door until she pulled them in. The Capper? A PASSERBY carrying a GUN saved the women and called the cops. It settled out of court, but I thought that it was amazing that he was still driving after that. On the news, they made him sound like an angel, too. I'd have tried to run his ass over too. Actually, If I was able to incapacitate him to the point of getting control of the cab, I'd have taken it to the police station.
Metra is wonderful, but not perfect. This morning, a pedestrian was hit in Riverside shutting down the whole Burlington-Northern line that I usually take. This reminded me of a lot of things, and while it is a tragedy, I think we have too many laws protecting the stupid from themselves. If the grade crossing signals were working and the person chose to ignore them, that person paid the ultimate price. However, do we need laws that fine you if you don't? I'm not sure. A few years ago, I got ticketed for disobeying crossing signals. The fine? $500 0r 50 hrs community service. The toll of the experience; Much higher.
I used to live in Clarendon hills, and at that stop, the train drops you off inside the crossing gates. It was late, I had had to work late, and I was in a terrible mood. The train passed but the gates were still down (though I was inside them). I looked both ways, and started to cross. The gates raised before I passed the first of three tracks. A cop was waiting for me on the other side. It took him 45 minutes to write me up, because he had to look in the encyclopedia of laws to find the statute I'd violated.
My Court date came, and I still couldn't believe the fine. I asked the Village attorney if they thought I had driven my car around a gate, and explained that I had been on foot, and already inside the gate. It didn't matter, she said. The court clerk told me that I couldn't contest the offense, and I had 6 months to either complete the Community Service OR pay the $500. Upon asking for clarification, they said I could do the service for any Not for profit, and then if I didn't complete it, I could just pay the fine.
I contacted the Lisle Park District I used to work for, and arranged to work it off there.
A few weeks later, I got an angry call from my PAROLE OFFICER asking why I hadn't checked in. I explaied that no one had told me (verbally or in the paperwork I had received) that I had to be in touch with a parole officer. He scoffed and went on to say that They'd dictate who I did the service for, and it was too late to pay the fine. I went on to explain what the court clerk had said, and this guy wouldn't budge. Luckily, he agreed to let me continue with the park district. Unluckily, I had about three different parole officers in that time period, and hat to go bacck to court to PRESENT the letter from the Lisle Park District saying that I'd done my time.
I've been meaning to write a letter about this to SOMEONE... the gov, the judge, my state rep... but it's probably been 4 years now. I'm still reeling over how inefficient it was. That's what pisses me off more than anything. Do you really think they got their $500 worth if a lawyer, 2 court dates and 4 parole officers had to touch my file? Maybe it'd be cheaper if they just let me pay the Ultimate price.

Ain't that a kick in the head?

Am I the only one in the world that hates Frank Sinatra? Some days I feel like I am.
Let me enjoy my Italian food or your wedding in peace.

"And When it comes time to Salute My Friends..."

"..My flag is close at hand. "
"I pledge my allegiance to the King of Beers. I'm a genuine Bud man." --I'm not. But this post is about that sentiment, and not how my addled brain can remeber that jingle I probably haven't heard since Kevin Matthews was on WLUP AM 1000 (Those were the days [cue "All in the Family" music]), and I can't remember what my wife asked me to do moments ago.
Anyway, my brother put together a "Comedy of Wrestling" tape that we watched last night. It was basically a compilation of very funny (intentionally or otherwise) moments in wrestling. I found myself wanting to be able to send the tape to a few of the wrestlers with a note that says, "Remember how great you are?" (or in some cases, WERE).
I already sent this sentiment to the Cast of this Saturday's ComedySportz 10:30 show as I'll be sharing the theater with them, and it's the first time in a long time that the cast feels 10:30-worthy.
I intend to attempt to share this sentiment with more people in my life, so this post is my reminder to myself. Speaking of Kevin Matthews, I still have tapes and tapes of him that I wish I could send him as a reminder of what he's capable of.
Heighten your relationship with someone, and tell them something you appreciate about them today. Preferrably something specific. Then have a Bud together.

Fighting a cold

I miss my wife and baby. They've been at my In-Laws since Tuesday. Probably a good time for them to be away from me, though, as I've felt like ass for the last two days. I'm getting a clone of a headcold that I had around Independence Day. I'm sure it's the unclean improvisers I cavort with. Maybe it's the public transit I use. I woke up feeling father well this morning and it's slipping a little, but I'm hoping this means I'm almost over it. Last time I got the baby sick, and I don't know if there's a worse feeling in the world.
I saw some standup on one of them "Comedy Central Presents: A Punny Named Standup Special" things that said that having kids sucks. I admit that it's not all roses. When she's screaming herself hoarse for no discernable reason, for example. But every time she smiles or coos at me, it makes it all worth it.
If I could step back to standup for a sec; see David Cross' "Shut up you Fucking Baby" for the right way to name a standup special. Also, see all the track titles.

All right, I've been sitting on this for a while, and I can't find a way to Dovetail (BANG!) these topics together, but I'd like to take a moment to address the press on the "Tested on real curves" ad campaign by Dove (campaignforrealbeauty.com). I read a column Richard Roeper (sp? I don't care) wrote in the Sun-Times. Apparently, he'd written something about how he'd rather see stick-thin models than these "Full-Figured" gals, and there were letters upon letters written in response to this. What makes these realistically-built women full-figured I'll never understand. To all the morons repulsed by the women on these ads, I'd love to follow them home and see the people in their lives that they compare to the women in these ads. Roeper too. If he's dating someone better looking than these women, odds are she's a moron who's only with him because he's a local quasi-celebrity who'll only be known as the other guy who's not Siskel.
Whether or not you find the women in the ad attractive is your prerogative, and that's my point. I just hope the tipping point arrives soon that pushes us away from Mary Kate and Paris and to healthier-looking women. There was an article not long ago looking forward to this, and stating that the new body ideal is what the author had nicknamed "Oven Stuffers" after the plump turkeys you can buy. His point was that women like Britney Spears and that pitcher for the US Womens Softball team whose name escapes me are the new ideal. Ideal? I don't think there is one. I know what I like and I hope you know what you like without someone telling you. My hope is that we're closer to the sewer of American Pop Culture accepting bodies "Built to Sway" (thanks, LLCoolJ!) . The reason I think that is that no one should feel guitly about how they look if they feel healthy and happy. But Just so we're clear, I'm with Russ Meyer: "Lips, Hips, Tits, POWER!". Choke on that, Roeper!

F this Bloggger

Seriously, this thing just erased an entire post for the second time. Goddamn free software and Hosting!

Bringing them to tears

At work I maintain a wall of shame featuring fake wanted posters for incompetent vendors we work with. The crimes include silly stufflike "Being almost totally unreachable" and "Holier-than-thou attitude". Anyway, the wall of shame has become infamous to one vendor. All that says is that they fuck up too much. But anyway, one of the people we work with has lived in fear of the wall since its inception. A couple weeks ago, her spot was assured when a dialing-plan project went to hell. Today she showed up to take her medicine and prostrate herself to my boss. When my counterpart and I joked that we were calling graphics up to take her picture, she literally teared up. Few things tug at my heart strings like weepy lady types, but this is more an indictment of instability, methinks. Anyway, this leads me to 2 topics; heartstrings and lambda betas.
On the heartstrings tip, there's this panhandler downtown that brings a dog along with him. Probably the most well behaved dog I've ever seen, as 15% of all passersby stop to pet it. This guy has the tramp thing down. He plays the harmonica and all. All he needs is the kerchief of belongings tied to a stick. Anyway, he's the only one my numbness filter consistently drops for, and I know it's because of that dog. The bigger question is what that makes me. If I can walk past humans on crutches and women with their children panhandling, only to hesitate at this guy with a dog that he (seriously) puts in one of those child trailers on the back of a bike he rides when his "shift" is done, what type of person does that make me? I give to charity a ton, and while I'm empathetic to the plight of the homeless, I seldom give out change.
Now then, What is a Lambda Beta you might ask? Lambda Beta is an honorary sorority we developed in my time at Illinois State (Go, Mascots!). Lambda Beta stands for Loony Broad, and in my estimation 60% of ISU's female population were on some sort of edge, so we had plenty of fodder. It was a warning system that we made to make sure each other'd stay away from the crazies. It got pretty elaborate, though, in that we had a charter for Lambda Betas, and the women would be initiated in pledge classes. We also kept the names on a scroll like a real sorority. Childish? Yes. Offensive? Come on. We were in college. Get a sense of humor. Necessary? you bet. I was stalked no fewer than three times in college. And not just visited by someone who couldn't get the idea that I wasn't interested. I mean followed to class, prank called and more. Mose of it was born of my nature and my unwillingness to tell someone to fuck off. Incidentally, 75% of men at ISU weren't stalked, because the posessed that sense. One girl pranked me forever. And even without caller ID, I knew it was her because her cordless made a beep when she hung up. So a few times a night, I'd pick up a phone to silence, say, "Holly?", and hear . Those were the days. When you'd be on a walk with a girl, and she'd overshare that both her mother and brother were in a mental institution, and you'd STILL make out with her. I dunno. Something about that vulnerability just tugged at my heartstrings.

F Cargo

Cargo Magazine emailed me and posed the question: What's your secret to Holiday Shopping? My answer is as follows:

-----Original Message-----
From: Thompson, Zachary
Sent: Wednesday, August 10, 2005 12:00 PM
To: 'readertips@cargomag.com'
Subject: Holiday Shopping
EBAY!
Ebay is the way to go! The selection and savings are second to none. Any risks are low, and outweigh the profound advantages. It's easy to do, and if you only buy from people with over 100 feedback, your chances of getting burned are extremely slim. Anybody who's not using ebay is wasting their money. A quick shot of stuff I've bought:
Ben Sherman Gullwing-collar shirt, new with Tags: $12
Ted Baker Ties $30
Brand new Adidas:$6 AFTER SHIPPING
Vintage canadian all-leather hockey jacket from some school team, red leather witha magnificent patina and a moto collar: $8 AFTER SHIPPING
Vintage Wrestling T-shirts: My weakness... $5. No Nou-Vintage for me. There are more vintage t-shirts on ebay than anywhere else.
Vintage black velvet blazer in 44 SHORT! $20! -Name one other easily accessable place with over 200 44 Short jackets and suits in one place! I dare you!
With a little practice navigating the site and learning what sellers to avoid, you'll barely buy anywhere else!
-------------------------------------
I guess I've been quite the media whore lately. Seriously, though, I am addicted to eBay. Sure, I've been burned once or twice, but try them and you'll see how the good outweighs the bad. I have over 1200 feedback rating.

Again, I doubt they'll publish it. The last question they asked was "How do you get a good deal on a great bottle of wine?" My Response: Why buy wine when Miller High Live is $10.99 for a 30-pack? I'm so couth (Apologies to Strong Bad [homestarrunner.com]). http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail124.html

Tha BIN

I had breakfast at BIN 36 this morning with my friends Justin and Gail. I would not recommend the brioche french toast, and they wouldn't recommend the omelettes (egg white or otherwise). The home fries were positively heinous. Speaking of which, Sunday, the wife and I were getting cabin fever, so we threw the baby in the car for a trek to Leon's custard in Milwaukee. Kiki had seen Leon's on the food network, and wanted to try it. It's cool to look at, and though citysearch.milwaukee.com will tell you otherwise, that's where it ends with this place. We went there intending to eat lunch, but all they have is a loose meat sandwich called a spanish hamburger. Think Sloppy Joe minus the flavor. They also had the worst hot dog I think I've ever had...and no fries. The custard wasn't much better. If you are in the mood for such a trip, I can recommend Kopp's custard. They have a full burger-centric menu and fantastic custard.
I wrote my letter to Chicago Magazine and sent it today. This is the second time I've been moved to write a magazine in as many months. That's something I've not done since I wrote into the GI Joe comic book back in the day. They had Ewan McGregor on the cover and the accompanying article was tripe... basically a recanting of Ewan's bio coupled with the imagined conversations the author (Scott Raab) had with Yoda who was acting as Ewan's agent. I got no response to that letter (Shaming Esquire for blatantly drafting on the Episode 3 fan wagon only to pan the movies) or the one I wrote to the GI Joe Comic books (More Ninja Battles, Please!). I don't imagine this one will get a response (printed or otherwise) either.
Looks like we'll be going to the Drive-in for date night. Either http://www.cascadedrivein.com/ or http://www.drive-ins.com/theater/ilthili. A double feature for 6 bucks... Based on the movies showing, it'll brobably be the Cascade. Yeee-Haaa! More on that later.
Until next time, make mine Marvel!

Things I've hit recently

Singha - Thai place on LaSalle and the River - Not bad. Can't touch Perry's Deli (180 N. Franklin) as my favorite lunch place downtown.

Revival - 19 E 21st St. - this is an architectural salvage place that sells featured (read: expensive) pieces. A cool place. Pricey, and an el ride to undiscovered country for me when I got off at Cermak. I got the 300-yard hustle from a guy with a well-rehearsed speil that would have culminated in a shoe shine. He even had an apprentice that he introduced as such. The politeness in me can't tell them up front that they'll never see dime one from me. It almost ended when I paid to get on the el, but he kept calling after me, asking if I was a man of my word...
about 50 yards down the platform, a tall black kid said, "You should have known he was gonna ask you for money".

I did do something at revival that I Haven't done at Salvage one, Jan's antiques, or that place on Ravenswood. I actually bought my first piece of Terra Cotta. A great finial that looks like a giant flower bud. For the uninitiated, Terra cotta covers many of Chicago's stunning buildings, and the pieces, when you can find them, are generally very expensive. This one was a steal at $38. Maybe I did get hustled...

Also, apologies if there are spelling errors herein and hereafter. The spell checker on this site is terrible.

Also, things piss me off...

Yeah, there will be plenty of rants in this as well. My first: Chicago Magazine. I have subscribed to it for a few years now, and it's gone from a supplemental guide to the City I love to Winetka Plastic Surgeon's ads and longwinded boring articles about mildly interesting topics.
The straw that broke the Camel's Back? The 8/05 issue where ImprovOlympic (IO)'s 25th anniversary issue is referenced, and then they decide to interview 6 Improv students from around the city. What gets my blood up is that of the 6 students, ONE was an IO student (performer) --Alex Eilhauer. This is an institution that is all Chicago. Born of bucking the Second City ideal that improv should be used for writing and putting that improv in front of an audience to test the performers' mettle. A theater whose founder and students have influenced nearly all of modern comedy, and this is all they could cobble together?
The devil's advocate in me thinks they called IO and were met with confusion and stumbled upon Alex and interviewed him, then had to flesh out their piece with the rest of that peanut gallery, but I'm really tired of the treatment Improv gets in Chicago media. Improv is to Chicago what Musical theater is to New York! Wake up and smell the bits!

No Comment

I realized after my last post that part of what I want to do here is post things that I think of so that I have a public record of them. That way, I can point to this when I see them elsewhere sometime. At least 2 funny things I thought of long ago appeared in the Family Guy episode 2 weeks ago (The Lois becomes a model one). You know what that makes me? Unoriginal.

I've also been thinking of what I'd say, given the opportunity. Here's my favorite example of choking on a fabulous opportunity to say something. On an episode of WWE sanctions! A couple years back, a wrestler named A-Train came down to the ring to guest comment on a match featuring Chris Benoit, his opponent in the upcoming Pay-Per-View. The regular announcers were discussing Benoit's style, and they asked Albert what his strategy would be in their match. His Response? "No Comment." In a business where at least half of your success is determined by what you say on the mic, that was his response. I've seldom been so pissed at a wrestler. (I'm a huge wrestling fan, surprise...)*
Here's a guy, 6'9", 300+ pounds, and bald but hairier than George "The Animal" Steele. Lots of gifts, but not enough to make him great. He's twice Benoit's size. If I were in the same position, I'd have said "I eat Benoit's bodyweight in a sitting at Sizzler. If all else fails, I'll hit him hard enough to get him to stop moving, and I'll eat him."
A-train was released by the WWE shortly thereafter.

*Those of you who know me know that I'm an Improviser in Chicago. You may also know that in my ComedySportz Bio it says (or SAID, since they butchered our bios down to the barest sterileist facts) , "Zach started Improvising after deeming Professional Wrestling training too expensive." This is 100% true. Windy City Wrestling charges $2500 for six weeks of training. Now, at 5'4" and 180 (god, what's happened to me?) pounds, I wasn't about to get in the ring and get pounded. I wanted to be a manager and announcer and they still wanted that kind of money. I think I'd make a great managet in the vein of Bobby "The Brain" Heenan. You know what that'd make me? Unoriginal.

The time has come

Inspired by my pals Brendan and Tara and the roving diary of James "BD" MacDiarmid, I'm starting my own blog. Most of it will probably end up me ranting about stuff I hate, and I doubt mine will be as funny as either of theirs, but I feel the need to crap out my thoughts to the public. More soon.