Ballet Flamboyance?

As my darling wife said earlier, we went to the ballet the other day. This was the same day as the "Neighbor Domestic Violence" episode, so I've had other things on my mind. But I need to let a male point of view be heard for this event. A bit of background: I used to be the head administrative TA of the theatre dept where I went to college. I was a science major, trapped with a bunch of "artists" who thought they could dance, sing and act. It made me appreciate artists, their processes and what they have to go through to be heard. Also, I got to torment arts majors by using cold calculating logic and reason to destroy whatever argument they presented for extra points or a higher grade. BUT I digress.

So Lemur Queen and I have been to ballet before: Carmen. It was good. Very good. I actually have a favorite male dancer in the troupe, and he was the bullfighter. Good mechanics, good emotion, good synchro, good dancer. Good times:
http://www.carolinaballet.com/Bio-Bongar.html

It was at that time I found a had a dancer that I didn't like so much, namely because the entire time he was dancing, he looked like he was straining on a toilet or recovering from a particularly potent kick to the groin. I prefer my dancers non-weepy, thank you very much:
http://www.carolinaballet.com/Bio-Bourtasenkov.html



Anyways, the ballet we went to had three parts. Something classical with 4 pairs and a big finale. The second part was supposed to be a "representation of human rights abuses in the world", and the third was a new piece of work made up by the resident choreographer/Adrian Monk Impersonator. Oh yeah, he totally looked like that Monk guy, and I was just waiting for him to start touching the microphone repeatedly as an OCD guy is wanton to do.

The first part was "eh". My favorite dancer wasn't on there, but this guy was:
http://www.carolinaballet.com/Bio-Barnes.html
I enjoyed his work, he moved well and had emotional expression that built as the piece went on. But they didn't give him enough to do. The girl he was partnered with had this "I just took 20 hits of E" look on her face, and pretty much used him as a coat rack. Oh, and there was an amazon there. She was in the last pair, but she was huge. She had to be 6'. At least. She was good, but big.http://www.carolinaballet.com/Bio-Osetek.html

The second piece was UNBELIEVABLE. The primary dancers (the male ones) were the "prisoners" and they portrayed suffering, fear, strength, despair, and hope all in sequence and all in amazing realism. There was also an asian girl in the red dress who was a primary, who was an incredible representation of both hope, freedom, and rescue. It was great!

The third piece was not so good. Adrian Monk failed us all. The only cool part was a scene with two dancers moving as a heart. The rest was...well........it was a stereotypical modern ballet where everything was laden with metaphysical meaning and depth but ended up being a bunch of very fit people writhing on stage.

Anyways, all in all we enjoyed it. I like the arts, and will probably continue to go to shows and put some money in the tin when it's passed. I also love to people watch. There's a lot of interesting people at the ballet. You have elderly wealthy socialites, trying to show it all off. You've got college girls wearing the latest in unflattering Maxi dresses with authentic 1980's style hooker earrings. There's the obliging parents bringing their daughter out to see the pretty ballerinas (the cutest is when the little girls are actually wearing the point shoes from their class and try to walk out on their toes at the end of the performance). You've also got the date couples there. You can always tell them apart. The girl is usually really enjoying the show, and the guy is freaked out about the guys in tight costumes and whether or not anybody is seeing him do this. The average guy I guess is afraid of "looking gay" by being seen at the ballet. I don't have that fear. Everyone my work knew that I was going to the ballet, and I was looking forward to it. Also, I worked in a freaking theatre for two years and I have seen some pretty gay stuff. You don't want to hear the stories. But I can tell you, going to the ballet never made anyone gay. Go see the show.



http://echosphere.net/star_trek_insp/star_trek_insp.html

We're Nerds.

Those of you who know us, know that we are both nerds. We grew up nerds, and remained nerdy throughout our high school, college, and now adult lives. Part of what makes the Lemur Queen and I such a good match is the fact that we are nerds. Mind you, we're different types of nerds but those differences are not important. You see, Lemur Queen is an archetypal "Nerd", a mainline nerd. She's great at science and math. She got great grades in high school, sholarships in college, and has a graduate degree from a prestigious university. The Mainline Nerds are the ones who were glorified in "Revenge of the Nerds". Eventually, they will take over everything, kinda like Bill Gates is doing now. Yes, he's one of us.





I am a Gamer. I am a subclass of nerd that is sometimes shunned by other nerds. The mainlines (or common) nerds were smarter than us, and the drama nerds were wierder than us, the Trekies/Jedi Knights were more belittled. But no one, not anybody, was creepier or more obtuse than the Gamers. I mean, we still have the majority of the characteristics of other Nerd branches: we're smart, can use technology, and have a slight difficulty in inter-personal relationships. But we also have one extra thing.........Gamers....well......we like games. All kinds of games. Computer games, role playing games, trivia games, card games, prettymuch anything that has complex rules. When you go into a electronics store, and some guy is drooling over the next computer game and desperately trying to pre-order it: that's probably a Gamer. If you're shopping in a bookstore and see some guy with his nose burried in a Dungeons and Dragons rule book: that's a Gamer. On saturdays, when the Books-A-Million has their weekly Yu-Gi-Oh and Magic: The Gathering tourneys; the guys you see crouching over the tables are Gamers. Starting to build a mental profile? Good! Time to test it. Pop Quiz time! In this photo, find the Gamer in the group of nerds!

If your quess was the guy in the Legend of Zelda t-shirt, you are 100% right! Gamers have an almost debilitating fascination with games. I had a buddy who was a police dispatcher and was written up for reading a 200 page rules manual on the job. He tried to explain that he had a big game coming up on Saturday and needed to recall some rules; but his boss wasn't a gamer, so he wasn't as understanding as he could have been. Gamer's also have another thing to struggle against. Even though we're smart and a lot of us have good-paying jobs, and we're really nice, and usually funny........we can't get women. Well, I did, but what I'm saying is that gamers usually can't get no love from the ladies. It seems that we are too esoteric and reclusive(this is all Nerds, not just Gamers here). Also, there is a persistant rumor running around that Gamers(Nerds in general, actually) don't bathe as often as they should. Well, it's a LIE! Most of us bathe daily, and use deoderant. Nerds, particularly Gamers, are desperate to attract and keep women. As such, we'll try a heck of a lot harder than your regular Preppy, Jock or even an Emo Boy. Ladies, do you want romance? Why not date a Nerd and watch the sparks fly? Like being pampered? Do you want to be appreciated and listened to and treated well? Try dating a nerd. Sure, we don't look good on the beach, but we'll be able to troubleshoot your computer and you will never lose on trivia night at the bar with a Nerd on your arm! Just ask my wife: Once you go Nerd, you don't go back.

Mongols at the Gates of The Fortress

We live in an apartment. It's our Fortress. We like it here, we have a view of a pond with ducks, turtles, and big-ass blue herrons. It's a 2-bedroom, and we're just getting it all comfy like we want it. Lemur Queen and I are newlyweds, and we're slowly but surely sifting through all our crap and deciding where we should put things....on walls.....on shelves.....in dumpsters.......



But, since we have an apartment, we also have neighbors. First, we have the people next to us. They are the ultimate in good neighbors. They have a dog, but you wouldn't know it unless you saw the lady walking it. It's silent. They make no noise, and are ALWAYS nice to us.



Then we have the people across the hall. That apartment has been trouble for us in the past. First it was empty, then the college girls moved in. Tall, blonde, and evidently popular with the boys. They had a bunch of parties, loud parties, and I actually had to go out into the hall and ask some drunk and belligerant gentlmen to please put their pants back on. Now a nice family lives there.......a nice family with the Baddest Weiner Dog EVER. At least, that's what the dog thinks. He's so vicious, he could rip a sock right off your foot!



Below us we have The Tiny Woman (an incredably thin, and freaking tiny asian lady), and her spawn, Drama Girl. Drama Girl has the worst life ever. I've heard her say it, when she's sitting on the bottom of the stairs talking into her $200 cell phone. Yep. Or when she's walking back from her Expedition, which she just drove to the mall. I weep for her. The biggest drama surrounding Drama Girl is her choice in men. From what I can tell, she's in high school. And at all hours she has "very serious" conversations with various and sundry guys. By very serious, I mean, low toned talks about her feelings and all the drama in her life. These talks MUST occur at times when normal people either want to eat dinner, or want to sleep. And they must occur at the bottom step of either the first or second story stairs. That way the entire half of the building can be treated to her theatrics.



Above us, the Norse gods Thor and Modi live. For those of you not in the know, Thor was the god of lightning and thunder, and Modi was his son and the god of battle lust and madness. Basically, they run and boom and jump at night. Usually during prime time TV. Also, they drop things. I'm not sure what they are, but I'm guessing the anvils they practice juggling must be really slippery. The best thing about Thor and Modi is their love of animals. Well, maybe not LOVE. They have a dog. A yappy dog. A yappy dog that is about the size of a husky. I think it's an Akita. They love to keep this dog in its travel crate, which is too small for the dog. They also like to keep this travel crate on their porch, which is in direct sunlight. The dog does not like this, and he lets them, us, and everyone know it. Also, one day Thor and Modi left the dog in the crate, on the porch, in a thunderstorm. The Dog was loosing its mind, but did they care? Nope.



Still they aren't the worst neighbors I ever had. When I was in college, I live with my two buddies Howler Monkey and I.M. (independantly mysterious). We had a second floor apartment (university assigned housing) over 3 black guys. The black guys were cool. No noise (except during World Series and March Madness, but that's perfectly acceptable. I mean, we're all men, and sometimes we need to cuss at the TV. It's genetic), no parties, no wierd smells. Well, two out of the 3 black guys graduates. The last black guy gets two new roomies, 2 japanese guys. Now, the school I went to has a sizable asian population. And evidently these guys were really socialites. There were never less than 20 japanese people in that damn apartment. The last black guy was hiding in his room most of the time. I asked him once how he like living there now, and his reply was "Godzilla madness, yo." Well, the last black guy graduated (he was finishing his MBA), and yet another japanese guy went in. So now, there were usually 30 japanese people living underneath us. One time they had a party and IM and Howler Monkey had a super early ROTC march the next day, so IM went down to ask for a volume reduction. He came back up, and said "they were all surrounding a hibachi grill with an onion on a stick and laughing hysterically. They wouldn't even talk to me, just kept laughing. And there's like 40 of 'em down there." What finally took the cake was one late night, I was lying in bed, trying to drift off the sleep, when IT started.



"BOOM Boom.



Boom Boom BOOM.



THIS IS A STORY ABOUT A GIRL NAMED LUCKY......."



Yep, the japanese had started up Britney Spear's hit "Lucky" and were playing it at high volume.

Then I was surprised again, in a bad way:



"She so rucky, she a star, but CLY CLY CLY with her BLOCKEN HEART........."



Japanese Karaoke......Doing Britney Spears......and it's a guy singing. Oh my sweet lord. That was just a beginning of the night. I was treated to other such excellent songs as "Hit Me Baby One More Time" and "Some Thrice-Damned Japanese TV Show Jingle That All 30 of Those Bastards Must Have Loved Because I Swear I Heard About 10 of The Tone-Deaf Weasels Try To Sing It".



But at least they didn't have a dog............



Fat Rock.





Story about 30 japaneese people that lived underneath us in collge.

A Fatty's Take on Races

Fat Rock here. As you know, my wife is a runner. I have been to several of her races as a spectator, and once as a competitor. I have a tremendous amount of respect for my wife for doing the "running thing". I cannot. I am not a runner. This was made plain when I ran in the "Dook U. Run for the Lemurs 5k", which was a charity run for the Dook Primate Center. "You'll have a great time," said my fit, in-shape runner girlfriend(at the time), "this is totally a low pressure run, and you'll do great!" Since I was love-struck and stupid, I went for it. It was hot, and there was like 100% humidity and then there were plagues of locusts, and lightening and an earthquake because I had upset the balance of the universe by attempting to jiggle my happy ass for 5 kilometers in under 30 minutes. (Note: 30 mins was the time Lemur Queen said I should shoot for, since it was a "slow easy pace for a beginner") I may have a prejudiced viewpoint, but I digress. I was out of breath by the first hill. Lemur Queen wanted to RUN the whole time, while I could only run when I was going downhill. Long story short, I finished 4th from last. I beat out a massive MASSIVE obese black guy, and a pregnant woman in her third trimester. Oh, and I beat the Lemur Queen, because she was behind me......pushing me forward.



So I never competed in a race again. The only time I run now if to and from the buffet.



Anyways, I do go and support/cheer/hoot like an idiot when my wife races. Why? I enjoy supporting her and her interests. I mean, crap, she has actually agreed to go to DragonCON with me this year. And that's like Nerdapalooza. But at least she'll get an opportunity to freak watch, just like I do at her races. I love me some people watching. When we lived in the Capital City, there was this creepy guy that wore 70's shorty shorts with a mountain scene painted on them. To every race. And he never wore a shirt. To every race. And he was hairy like the love child of Robin Williams and Chewbacca. To every race.



But the races down here are still fun to watch. You have your SERIOUS runners, the ones in all matchy running outfits who are either crazy thin or really muscular, vigorously checking their pulses on their necks while bobbing in place. Then you have runners. Lemur Queen falls in this category. She has running clothes, is in good shape, and runs regularly. Not all matchy-matchy, but clothes that are dedicated to running. Then you have the "runners". You know the ones. My kind of peoples. Team Fatty. Jiggles McBee and his dancing Juggernauts. You know. I don't condemn these people, I applaud them. They're doing their best to improve themselves. They are, however, wearing ripped up sweats and a T-shirt from something completely inappropriate (Big D's Bar-B-Q, for example) or they're wearing a running outfit. Ruining outfits have spandex in them. These are the people you don't want to see in spandex.



There is a fourth category of racer: the oddments. These are the high-school athletes there to try to tear out their knees before they hit 18. There's the guy wearing the USMC Force Recon t-shirt with the baby jogger (the guy finished 3rd overall, by the way. And he started at the back of the pack). And then there's the HOLY CRAP IS THAT LADY RUNNING IN HER BRA AND PANTIES?!?!? Oh wait, those are her running clothes. Not underwear. Oh, and there's the really skinny Asian lady that is like normal width from side to side and then from front to back she's about the length of a pencil. A used pencil. Creepy.



But I see all these people show up, pin numbers on themselves, and do some sort of preening before the race. And I get to see said weirdos soon. This weekend actually. So, if your out at any footraces, looking for a fat guy hooting like an idiot and eating a rack of lamb. That'll be me.



Bring Napkins.



Fat Rock.