I haven't known what to say about Lady Gaga. But her music, pop though it may be, is infectious, I admit. I watched a bunch of videos of her online yesterday, trying to form an opinion and I have to say, I'm impressed with her. She is talented, and she's earned her way. She is far more talented than I had realized. Just listen to her piano.
Lady Gaga appeared at a Monday rally in Portland, Maine to speak out against the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy that prevents openly gay people serving in the U.S. military. “I’m here because ‘Don’t ask, Don’t tell’ is wrong, it’s unjust and fundamentally it is against all that we stand for as Americans,” she said during her 20-minute speech. [http://gagadaily.com/]
She said in her Portland, Maine speech today, that she is gay. News to me and it doesn't matter in the least. She said she thinks that the "don't ask don't tell" rule is backward. Like so much of our laws and government, she is correct. She saod she would like to propose a new law, that the soldier who has a problem with a gay person, who's effectiveness in the field is compromised because they hate gays, who are uncomfortable with gays in gernal, should simply, Go Home. Not to mention, what, are they living in a cave somewhere?
Gaga has a point, our fighting soldiers, are tough bastards. They shouldn't be bothered by, females in the field, by gays in the field; and if they are, they should toughen up some more. She has a point, when she asks, who are our soldiers fighting for. All of us? Or just some of us?
Lady Gaga can state her position far more fluidly than I can here, so watch the video and see what you think. She said she wrote it herself. I don't doubt it. After all, she's NOT running for government. If nothing else, I have to respect her attitude. Not to mention, I fully agree with her.
Watch it yourself:
Lady Gaga's speech from the #4for14k rally to repeal "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" today in Portland, Maine.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The Corporate Line
I received an email today, from a Vice President at a certain corporation, decrying the benefits of working from home, in order for the company to "go green" (that is, cut costs, even at the expense of the employee).
Now don't get me wrong, I have wanted to work remotely for a decade or two. I was a prime advocate of it even when it was against my best interests to speak out about it. I supplied any and all, information, web sites, whatever I could come up with in the way of solid data indicating why it should be done, or allowed, by corporations.
In the past, have even published articles in computer magazines on topics like how employers should allow internet usage and how they should handle it. But then, I once (back in the 80s) thought that all information should be free, and the internet should remain free. For the most part, its worked out, not too bad, different than how I originally conceived it, although, we still have issues that we really do need to stay on top of. Like internet bandwidth. If we're not careful, networks, cable and phone companies, are going to screw the public and make them pay for it on top of it all.
But back to the current issue....
I have to tell you,
aside from the quite obvious fact that I fully agree with this corporate email
(and then some),
after all these years of my having said these same exact things
(and much more to support my contentions)
and having then been told by management
(though a bit less in recent years)
that I was either crazy or living in a dream world
(or both),
its really more than a little strange, for me to now see this way of thinking being touted as
the “party line” and the “corporate point of view”.
Its also kind of fun to read between the lines,
[“Let’s not forget another real and practical factor: traffic”]
where it is now the company who is trying to convince the employees that
this is, “a good thing” and people should try to get behind it all.
OMG, that is just too funny, really!
[Hey! Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad its finally been visualized on a real level of understanding]
So…I’m going to take this moment to finally declare, after having led the charge for so long, once and for all, its:
“Victory!”
Carpe Diem!
Next Blog today at Noon: "Lady Gaga for Congress?"
Now don't get me wrong, I have wanted to work remotely for a decade or two. I was a prime advocate of it even when it was against my best interests to speak out about it. I supplied any and all, information, web sites, whatever I could come up with in the way of solid data indicating why it should be done, or allowed, by corporations.
In the past, have even published articles in computer magazines on topics like how employers should allow internet usage and how they should handle it. But then, I once (back in the 80s) thought that all information should be free, and the internet should remain free. For the most part, its worked out, not too bad, different than how I originally conceived it, although, we still have issues that we really do need to stay on top of. Like internet bandwidth. If we're not careful, networks, cable and phone companies, are going to screw the public and make them pay for it on top of it all.
But back to the current issue....
I have to tell you,
aside from the quite obvious fact that I fully agree with this corporate email
(and then some),
after all these years of my having said these same exact things
(and much more to support my contentions)
and having then been told by management
(though a bit less in recent years)
that I was either crazy or living in a dream world
(or both),
its really more than a little strange, for me to now see this way of thinking being touted as
the “party line” and the “corporate point of view”.
Its also kind of fun to read between the lines,
[“Let’s not forget another real and practical factor: traffic”]
where it is now the company who is trying to convince the employees that
this is, “a good thing” and people should try to get behind it all.
OMG, that is just too funny, really!
[Hey! Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad its finally been visualized on a real level of understanding]
So…I’m going to take this moment to finally declare, after having led the charge for so long, once and for all, its:
“Victory!”
Carpe Diem!
Next Blog today at Noon: "Lady Gaga for Congress?"
Monday, September 20, 2010
One night in 1973 at a UW Frat house
It was 1973. With winter approaching, I drove up from Tacoma to spend a night at Zeta Psi fraternity in Seattle on the University of Washington's "Frat Row". I never expected that to happen.
We were drinking at a party and quickly realized we knew one another and had been friends. Or friendly anyway. It was only months since our graduation. So this must have been at a party as none of us were 21 to be getting into a bar. Though I did have a fake ID I'd made myself, and actually worked.
[originally posted September 20, 2010 - updated June 8, 2024]
I had run into a couple of "friends" from Lincon High School in Tacoma, Washington. I no longer remember where I ran into those guys, or now...who they even were. But they said they were in the Zeta Psi frat at the University of Washington, the UW, in Seattle. A city I'd always grown up seeing as, "The Big City."
I had run into a couple of "friends" from Lincon High School in Tacoma, Washington. I no longer remember where I ran into those guys, or now...who they even were. But they said they were in the Zeta Psi frat at the University of Washington, the UW, in Seattle. A city I'd always grown up seeing as, "The Big City."
Which is ironic as I'd lived in Philadelphia as a kid. And within a couple of years from this experience in 1973, I'd be living in Manhattan, New York City, New York, just prior to entering the USAF.
Me 1973© by me
We were drinking at a party and quickly realized we knew one another and had been friends. Or friendly anyway. It was only months since our graduation. So this must have been at a party as none of us were 21 to be getting into a bar. Though I did have a fake ID I'd made myself, and actually worked.
Throughout high school, as I remember it, people saw me as likable, but not much of a brain, a lower-middle-class kid, whose family had moved up to the middle economic class. Our parents had struggled. Well, our stepdad had, working two jobs for decades.
The night I ran into those guys at the party (by now a few drinks in), they talked me into two things. Taking my SATs at the UW, and pledging at their frat...if I got accepted. I wonder what happened to them over the years? I really have to wonder what would have happened to me had I gotten into the UW? How could my life have been different? What would I have majored in?
It sounded, fabulous, joining a frat. What the guys were selling: every frat had a sister sorority. So you got assigned a girl from the sorority who was kind of a "sister". What a deal. Look it up. Aside from the girls, the frat helped you graduate, pass tests, and so on. That was a selling point, to a not-great student. I had graduated high school, but it wasn't with straight A's. I did take an IQ test during high school and was rated at an IQ of about 128-132. So not stupid, just ADHD.
I decided to give it a shot. I was out of high school by this time, working at United Pacific/Reliance Insurance, in Tacoma. When I started there, they were just United Pacific Insurance. Then they got bought up by Reliance Insurance of Philadelphia (now in liquidation). Employees were horrified we were being absorbed. Something I've since had experiences with elsewhere.
At the time I could see my life going nowhere. So I seriously considered what my friends were telling me. Besides it was another adventure. It was funny and strange, because as I remember it, while I had always been friendly with those two guys, I had never really seen them as my "friends" in high school. So finding they saw me that was was kind of nice. Though I had always liked them. We just hadn't hung out that much. Now that we were out of HS, we were apparently friends? Well, cool.
Anyway, over the next tweek they set it up for me with the frat. I was to go to the University of Washington (UW), it was during the December holiday break when the SAT testing was happening. And I could stay at the Frat.
Finally, left me to my own devices after having explained that when I wanted to sleep, I only had to hit the rooms central to the house, on the second floor where we were at. They apologized for the lack of heat in them as it was turned off for the holidays when few were in the house. They couldn't afford the heat and I would believe it. It must cost a fortune to heat that place.
After the test, I walked back to the frat. Again I wandered about, not wanting to leave until finally I took my leave. I located my car down the block around the corner, happy to find it was still there, got into my car and finally, reluctantly, drove away.
In one way or another I was on the fringe of just about every clique in the school. Everybody seemed to know me or had an opinion about me, or so it would seem. My cousin was my age but a year behind in school because of how our birthday fell on the calendar (my mom wanted me to start first grade, ASAP). She went to Washington High School in Parkland, south of Tacoma. I jokingly once told her if she ever visited Lincoln, just stop anyone and ask for me. I think I was showing off in front of her friends. Oddly, she did once visit with a friend and they did stop some random person who did seem to know where I might be. But we didn't connect that day. Still, she said her and her girlfriend were impressed. Too funny.
The night I ran into those guys at the party (by now a few drinks in), they talked me into two things. Taking my SATs at the UW, and pledging at their frat...if I got accepted. I wonder what happened to them over the years? I really have to wonder what would have happened to me had I gotten into the UW? How could my life have been different? What would I have majored in?
Ironically, I graduated after USAF service to end up working at the UW for over seven years, first at the U Bookstore for a bit, then MCIS (Medical Centers Information Services department) for Rad and Path, Radiology & Pathology, for UW Medicine (UWMC then) and Harborview Medical Center, a regional trauma center, nd then UW Human Resources (formerly the Personnel Office). I took some classes at UW, so...kind of an alumnus, just not a grad.
It sounded, fabulous, joining a frat. What the guys were selling: every frat had a sister sorority. So you got assigned a girl from the sorority who was kind of a "sister". What a deal. Look it up. Aside from the girls, the frat helped you graduate, pass tests, and so on. That was a selling point, to a not-great student. I had graduated high school, but it wasn't with straight A's. I did take an IQ test during high school and was rated at an IQ of about 128-132. So not stupid, just ADHD.
I decided to give it a shot. I was out of high school by this time, working at United Pacific/Reliance Insurance, in Tacoma. When I started there, they were just United Pacific Insurance. Then they got bought up by Reliance Insurance of Philadelphia (now in liquidation). Employees were horrified we were being absorbed. Something I've since had experiences with elsewhere.
At the time I could see my life going nowhere. So I seriously considered what my friends were telling me. Besides it was another adventure. It was funny and strange, because as I remember it, while I had always been friendly with those two guys, I had never really seen them as my "friends" in high school. So finding they saw me that was was kind of nice. Though I had always liked them. We just hadn't hung out that much. Now that we were out of HS, we were apparently friends? Well, cool.
Anyway, over the next tweek they set it up for me with the frat. I was to go to the University of Washington (UW), it was during the December holiday break when the SAT testing was happening. And I could stay at the Frat.
Almost no one would be there, except a few, but I was welcome to come and sleep overnight. Then take the SATs the next morning on campus. If I did good, and came up with the money (if my parents had the money), then I was in. They were both legacies (both had older brothers who had been in the fraternity and graduated several years before). But basically, I was in.
The date arrived and I drove up my 1967 Chevy Impala, 30 miles up to Seattle from Tacoma. I took a couple of days off from work in the middle of the cold season. I remember walking through the "U district", the part of Seattle nearest to the University. The "Ave." It was pretty cool.
The date arrived and I drove up my 1967 Chevy Impala, 30 miles up to Seattle from Tacoma. I took a couple of days off from work in the middle of the cold season. I remember walking through the "U district", the part of Seattle nearest to the University. The "Ave." It was pretty cool.
Years later when I was married, we would live in an apartment in U Village, a bit down the road just off Lake Washington and a walk up some stairs (a LOT of stairs) up to campus. I'd also take the Burke Gilman Trail (which goes along the lake) from our apartment to the University Hospital (so named then) to work at night.
I had to walk through the woods in the dark, to and from work. Which was kind of spooky. I would also take our first infant, and then toddler son on my bicycle along the trail to hang out at parks on the beach with him, while his mom rested or was busy.
Zeta Psi house
I was excited. I got back to my car and found the frat, pulled into their driveway and parked. I walked up to the door of this massive house on "frat row". This was a big house. The front door was unlocked, so I went in. No one was around. So, I walked around. It had a massive stairway. I loved the old woodwork.
Looking up the stairway 1973© by me
I checked out the kitchen. Huge.
Kitchen 1973© by me
And a dinning hall.
Dining hall 1973© by me
Finally, I ran into someone who questioned who I was and what I was doing there. I explained, and he recognized the names of the guys who sent me.
I was in, accepted and he gave me the tour.
Common room 1973© by me
There was of course, the massive living room. Sadly you can't see it in the image below.
Living room exit, piano bottom left 1973© by me
There was the "rec" room, where they had a couple of pool tables, a Foosball table, and several vending machines. One of which was a pop machine that dispensed beer only, for twenty-five cents. A quarter, for a beer. No validation of age. This, was Heaven for an 18-year-old, et al.
Game room 1973© by me
A front room had a kind of stage area. They had their own band! Enough of the members were musicians that they told me they had the only professional, nine-piece band that played local bars and other frats for parties and money. They said there were some other bands in other frats but hey couldn't hold a handle to their band. So at any time that they wanted a party, they had their own professional-level party band on call.
1973© by me
A few rooms for relaxing.
Taproom 1973© by me
There was a small "tap" room, which was basically a small bar where they could tap a keg and serve free beer to the fraternity brothers, regardless of age.
In the basement, there was a full-sized swimming pool. I was amazed. Blown away. I so wanted to join!
Swimming pool-in basement 1973© by me
Finally, left me to my own devices after having explained that when I wanted to sleep, I only had to hit the rooms central to the house, on the second floor where we were at. They apologized for the lack of heat in them as it was turned off for the holidays when few were in the house. They couldn't afford the heat and I would believe it. It must cost a fortune to heat that place.
Common sleeping room 1973© by me
There were multiple bunk beds in each of several of these rooms. There were two frat brothers to the individual rooms, but no one slept in their rooms. Mostly they studied and entertained in their individual rooms but slept in the common sleeping rooms.
bathrooms 1973© by me
Community bathrooms.
Hallway between sleeper & individual's rooms 1973© by me
So that night, I grabbed a bunk. That's where I was when around 7:30PM, someone entered the room looking for someone. There were maybe ten bunk beds in the room, with one or two others present. The guy that came in saw me, didn't recognize me, and so asked if I was the one visiting he had been told about. I answered in the affirmative.
He said, "Welcome! I'm the Frat Treasurer. Our President and I would like to invite you to our room, for a while. If you'd like to join us." I was beside myself. Of course, I would!
He said, "Welcome! I'm the Frat Treasurer. Our President and I would like to invite you to our room, for a while. If you'd like to join us." I was beside myself. Of course, I would!
"Follow me." We walked out the common room door to the left, left again, down to the room on the right, at the end of the hallway, just off the front of the house, on the northeast side. I was introduced to the President of the Frat who said that few were there over the holiday, and they were the only officers still there, neither of them having reason to go home that season.
I thought, "How sad." But then, how cool they they're here. We sat on the rug in their small room with lights on low.
"Like to smoke?" Anxious to please and happy to get stoned, I said, "Sure. Thanks!" They put on Simon and Garfunkel's album, "Bridge over Troubled Water", lit a joint and we sat there, smoking, talking quietly, and listening to the now classic album.
"Like to smoke?" Anxious to please and happy to get stoned, I said, "Sure. Thanks!" They put on Simon and Garfunkel's album, "Bridge over Troubled Water", lit a joint and we sat there, smoking, talking quietly, and listening to the now classic album.
I cannot think of a more iconic, monumental moment for that period than this. We sat up and talked and smoked for a while and listened to albums. I do not remember any other albums they played and maybe there were no others. I didn't spend a great deal of time with them.
I cut it short. I felt somewhat...inadequate in their presence. And, I had to take my SATs the next morning! I was impressed at their acceptance of me, someone who had so been on the fringe all through high school. I'd never had thoughts of college. Just of getting out of K-12.
I awoke the next day and had something to eat in the kitchen. Then, I adventured through the UW campus to find the testing location. My new friends the night before had given me some more detailed directions to supplement my paperwork from having signed up.
I awoke the next day and had something to eat in the kitchen. Then, I adventured through the UW campus to find the testing location. My new friends the night before had given me some more detailed directions to supplement my paperwork from having signed up.
I took my SATs in a big auditorium with many other kids were there. It wasn't a full room, but more than I expected there to be. I don't know where they were all from. Maybe they were like me, spending an awesome night at a fraternity or sorority, stunned at their good luck and impressive experiences. Though some were surely not going to be in one or the other. But it was likely most of them just drove up from home.
After the test, I walked back to the frat. Again I wandered about, not wanting to leave until finally I took my leave. I located my car down the block around the corner, happy to find it was still there, got into my car and finally, reluctantly, drove away.
That was my final UW student experience. Sort of. Mostly.
I do now remember that when I first got there, someone told me I had to move my car out of their driveway and find a legal parking place for it on the street. Parking there at a premium. I had to drive around a while to find an open spot a couple of blocks away. But it gave me a feel for Frat Row.
When I got back home to my parents' house, I begged them to send me to the UW. I had moved out before this, as soon as I had graduated, at 17. But then was back in, due to my nightmare Jewish lady landlord who complained whenever I tiptoed through my living room.
I do now remember that when I first got there, someone told me I had to move my car out of their driveway and find a legal parking place for it on the street. Parking there at a premium. I had to drive around a while to find an open spot a couple of blocks away. But it gave me a feel for Frat Row.
When I got back home to my parents' house, I begged them to send me to the UW. I had moved out before this, as soon as I had graduated, at 17. But then was back in, due to my nightmare Jewish lady landlord who complained whenever I tiptoed through my living room.
It was above her front downstairs apartment. And thus, she thought I was thundering over her living room ceiling. She called me on the phone shortly after moving in to complain that I was stomping around. But I told her I was trying really had not to, and was nearly tiptoeing about. That must have done something because she stopped complaining about it.
She would also go through my things when I wasn't home. Just a tad illegal. After my friend Dave stayed with me that August on leave from the Army, I decided I needed to break my lease, my nerves were on edge from my apartment being invaded. I'd notice things being moved. I was at work one day and called Dave to see how he was. He was angry. Said he was dozing on my couch and woke up just at my landlady was slowly backing out the front door, not having expected anyone was home mid-day.
When I got home after work he was worked up. I asked why my .303 British bolt action WWII rifle was on the couch. He said he got it and went back to sleep on the couch and if she came back in he was going to shoot her. I said you can't' shoot my landlady! But he said she was breaking and entering. Dave makes up half of my best friend in my screenplay, "The Teenage Bodyguard". Interesting character. Nice guy but he'd had a tough time in the army or something.
About attending the UW, my mother had told me, no luck. Sorry. "We simply do not have any money to send you to a university and certainly not, some Fraternity. I'm sorry."
About attending the UW, my mother had told me, no luck. Sorry. "We simply do not have any money to send you to a university and certainly not, some Fraternity. I'm sorry."
Eventually, I filled out government forms for educational aide, but they came back saying my parents made too much money for me to get help. Though I knew they didn't have what was being claimed. There was no way out which eventually, led me to enter the USAF a few years later, at the age of 20. I gave it that long to see if I could make something happen but I felt I was just going to continue to go nowhere.
I was crushed that day of my SATs. But then a couple of weeks or so later, I received my SAT results. I certainly wasn't the highest-rated student tested. Actually, I was surprised I had done as good as I had, though not so hot on math though. No surprise there.
I was crushed that day of my SATs. But then a couple of weeks or so later, I received my SAT results. I certainly wasn't the highest-rated student tested. Actually, I was surprised I had done as good as I had, though not so hot on math though. No surprise there.
No one had ever told me students study a lot, long and hard, before taking SATs.
The official notification said I lacked a year of foreign language and needed another semester of science, like biology. I took biology in high school, but only one semester. The teacher was in my SCUBA class, along with about 40 other students and a few teachers.
A SCUBA shop from Bill's Boathouse on American Lake had wanted to try a test class teaching at high schools, rather than people coming to them. A way to generate money I suppose. Though they were adamant about trying to spread the sport and build it up.
We were taught by the great long-distance swimmer, Bert Thomas, and his team. So in February of 1971, I got my SCUBA certificate. I took the test for my open water test in Pugest Sound the same day as my driver's license written test at my high school. I remember taking my driving test noticing my still wet swim suit was on under my jeans.
My mother was so excited by my doing this, she took the class with my older sister and both got their licenses.
Someone told me to petition the SATs back saying I would take those classes on the side somehow. But they responded by saying, sorry, but no. We're turning down students now, who have all the required classes, and who are 4.0 students, some from all over the world. Which, I was not. A 4.0 student, that is.
I tried Tacoma Community College for a quarter and dropped out because I thought I was failing and I was moving to Phoenix with my older brother. Then as I told the teachers I was moving to Arizona, I found I was getting an "A" in my Criminal Evidence for Police (taught by the long-time LA Police partner of the famous author, Joseph Wambaugh) class and a "B" in my Sociology class. Ah, well. I was sure I was failing. Had I known I was doing that good I would have finished the classes. But I'd already given a reason for leaving I couldn't back out of without looking the fool. Yes, I was indeed a fool.
Someone told me to petition the SATs back saying I would take those classes on the side somehow. But they responded by saying, sorry, but no. We're turning down students now, who have all the required classes, and who are 4.0 students, some from all over the world. Which, I was not. A 4.0 student, that is.
I tried Tacoma Community College for a quarter and dropped out because I thought I was failing and I was moving to Phoenix with my older brother. Then as I told the teachers I was moving to Arizona, I found I was getting an "A" in my Criminal Evidence for Police (taught by the long-time LA Police partner of the famous author, Joseph Wambaugh) class and a "B" in my Sociology class. Ah, well. I was sure I was failing. Had I known I was doing that good I would have finished the classes. But I'd already given a reason for leaving I couldn't back out of without looking the fool. Yes, I was indeed a fool.
That police class was great. And for any "stoner" in those days, it taught you a lot about how to remain as legal as possible. The first night in that class in listening to the teacher I realized something along with another kid in the class about my age. We were the only younger people in class. Stuck out like a sore thumb, but everyone was nice to us.
When the teacher said, "I suppose most of you are TPD, here looking to get promoted?" They all nodded yes.
I looked at the kid in the middle of the class, surrounded by cops, something you avoided at any cost back then, and he looked terrified. Even more than I was. I was at the right front of the classroom by the door.
I looked around at all the "students" and realized they were all older than myself and that other guy, and all were nodding their heads. I talked to the guy after class he admitted he was "holding" some "weed" and wanted to get out of there and next class he certainly wouldn't be. He returned next class and all was fine. Learned a lot, still have that book.
So, that ended my experience of going to University. Until I graduated from tech school in the USAF at 20. Which proved to me that one way or another, I could make it through post-high school studies.
So, that ended my experience of going to University. Until I graduated from tech school in the USAF at 20. Which proved to me that one way or another, I could make it through post-high school studies.
In the service, if you failed, you did it again and again until you succeeded. Once I got through the military, the thought of college wasn't scary anymore. If I could make it through the Air Force, I could probably make it through anything up ahead of me.
Four years in the military, and I got out. It wasn't that bad, just seemed like it at times. Especially in the monotony of years of important, but painfully redundant work. I got out with a 2 month "early out" to attend Tacoma Community College again. Just that summer quarter. Left those classes with a "B" in both classes, and a new girlfriend. Then I got a not-so-great job delivering TVs. Then another job doing odd jobs for a mobster wannabe. I realized what he was, an East Coast criminal transplant.
Four years in the military, and I got out. It wasn't that bad, just seemed like it at times. Especially in the monotony of years of important, but painfully redundant work. I got out with a 2 month "early out" to attend Tacoma Community College again. Just that summer quarter. Left those classes with a "B" in both classes, and a new girlfriend. Then I got a not-so-great job delivering TVs. Then another job doing odd jobs for a mobster wannabe. I realized what he was, an East Coast criminal transplant.
After the service, and a year of wandering in and out of things, I started back at school, at Ft. Steilacoom Community College (now Pierce College). My older brother talked me into it to use my Vietnam era educational benefits. I had been living in his outbuilding, a shed/loft off his alleyway. It was fun, and relaxing. It let me heal from my 4 years in service, and my loss of everything, my car, respect, and my wife.
Then, not knowing what to do next, but following my super smart new girlfriend, I applied (we applied) at all universities in Washington state (only State universities, as I knew I couldn't afford the private ones, the same true for her). First, we visited all the State Universities, checking out their campuses.
In the end, we fell in love with Bellingham's, Western Washington University. Beautiful campus, a lovely region, and a different kind of Psychology department than the biggest campus at the UW, had. We weren't "counting rats" in cages as we referred to colleges using more lab and statistically based studies/research. We would be studying human relationships with the Universe, the "human experience". Phenomenology.
In the end, we fell in love with Bellingham's, Western Washington University. Beautiful campus, a lovely region, and a different kind of Psychology department than the biggest campus at the UW, had. We weren't "counting rats" in cages as we referred to colleges using more lab and statistically based studies/research. We would be studying human relationships with the Universe, the "human experience". Phenomenology.
Strangely enough, they accepted me. They weren't the only one, but for the second time in my life, the UW had turned me down. I knew I wouldn't be going there anyway, but it would have been greatly cathartic to have been accepted.
And so, I got my degree in the end from "Western". I'm very happy with that and what I learned there. My years in college with my girlfriend, with whom I felt we were a real team together, are unforgettable.
And so, I got my degree in the end from "Western". I'm very happy with that and what I learned there. My years in college with my girlfriend, with whom I felt we were a real team together, are unforgettable.
As it turned out, I later ended up working for the UW for over seven years and attending classes there. Finally, I did get to attend school at the UW, albeit as an employee. So finally they did let me in.
Summing up, my moments at the UW frat, were quite an incredible experience. To have been in the frat, partying with the frat Treasurer and President, getting to listen to of all people at that time in history, Simon & Garfunkle; simply captured the essence of that era so well.
Summing up, my moments at the UW frat, were quite an incredible experience. To have been in the frat, partying with the frat Treasurer and President, getting to listen to of all people at that time in history, Simon & Garfunkle; simply captured the essence of that era so well.
They're memories, never to be forgotten.
From Kids in the Hall, it’s Scott Thompson's pod cast
From my all time favorite comedy team, "Kids in the Hall", its Scott Thompson ("Tavie") with his podcast site.
Among other characters, Scott always played the flamboyantly gay, Buddy Cole, hilarious and lovable, who was always so caustic and so right so many times in his monologues on the Kids in the Hall show. I loved that show at the time because it was so much better than Saturday Night Live during that time, and both were produced by Loren Michaels.
Scott and producer Jeff Goodes talk to the caustic Malene Arpe, author of the Stargazing Column and Blog at The Toronto Star.
Do be aware though, Scott has been gay for quite some time, and is unabashedly open about it, in his beliefs and with his vocabulary. I find nothing he says as offensive, but some may, so just be aware, have an open mind, and laugh were appropriate (or even not).
Enjoy!
Among other characters, Scott always played the flamboyantly gay, Buddy Cole, hilarious and lovable, who was always so caustic and so right so many times in his monologues on the Kids in the Hall show. I loved that show at the time because it was so much better than Saturday Night Live during that time, and both were produced by Loren Michaels.
Scott and producer Jeff Goodes talk to the caustic Malene Arpe, author of the Stargazing Column and Blog at The Toronto Star.
Do be aware though, Scott has been gay for quite some time, and is unabashedly open about it, in his beliefs and with his vocabulary. I find nothing he says as offensive, but some may, so just be aware, have an open mind, and laugh were appropriate (or even not).
Enjoy!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Weekend Wise Words
"Anybody can become angry - that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way - that is not within everybody's power and is not easy."
-- Aristotle
-- Aristotle
Friday, September 17, 2010
Where's Mike Rainey?
I graduated from Western Washington University in 1984.
Before the 1983-84 school year, maybe, as I attended, it was the summer session. Anyway, I was chosen for a small, special screenwriting class of eight people. I was the oddball, as I was a Psych major, they were all theater majors, actors, dancers, playwrights. Mike Rainey, Dave Scabina, Sean, Tami, my best guesses at their names from what I could remember.
I had been looking for them ever since. Not like I hired detectives, but when I'd think about it, I'd try to find them and never found who I thought might be them. How I could have missed them, I have no idea.
Since the internet has been available, I've been trying to find those guys or girls. I couldn't remember their names for years; I can't even remember everyone in the group; were there two girls? Seems like it, but I can't really remember (geez, that's pretty sad).
A couple of years ago, I found a few names (that I mentioned above). I searched on WWU website. Nothing. I've searched the internet, nothing. Just this minute, I thought, type in Mike Rainey Western Washington University.
Bang!
I got a hit! I couldn't believe it at first.
Below, is the article.
But now, I'm a little stunned. Because I just read that Dave, had died, of AIDS. I really hate that damn thing, I've lost too many friends and cool people to it.
I'm putting this article here, so I can reference it later. I'd really like to find any of them; they were such a talented group. But I was most friends with Mike, Dave and Chris. They were sad when I graduated, before them. It broke up the team.
We had such a blast together that year, along with our instructor, Bob Schelonka. I've wanted to find them for years, to see if we could do something together art wise; but it was apparently not to be. Now Dave is gone. I don't know where Mike is. We created some fun scripts that year, we laughed hard, had a great time. I remember working on a script with I think, Dave and Chris, I can't now remember, sitting on my apartment living room floor in "Happy Valley", till my girlfriend Monica, finally threw everyone out.
Chris and I did the "Popsicle Death" script. Actually, Bob said, everyone write down a paragraph for a story. Okay, now shift it left to the person next to you. Now, take that paragraph and write a short script for next class (in two days). So I wrote what came to be the notorious, Popsicle Death, script. I'm currently putting it into a screenplay I'm writing, tentatively titled, "HearthTales" (soon to be at a theater near you!). So these guys had an impact upon my entire life really. Monica is no longer around my life, nor my two wives that came after her. But that class will be with me forever and the work from that class may still one day end up on screen.
Well, anyway, here's to that class(!) and the amazing things at least some of us, did after we graduated. Oh, and if you wonder at the difference between the spelling of "Theatre" and "Theater", as any drama major knows, real acting happens in a "Theatre", you go to see a movie at a "Theater". :)
For the first time ever on this blog, an image....
The “founding fathers” of Annex Theatre.
From left: Dave Skubinna, Micha Rice, Garrett Bennett,
Mike Rainey, Brian Finney, and John Lawler. (circa 1988)
[As an addendum, I think I may have actually (Finally) found Mike. On Facebook of all places. Even though, I've looked there for him many times. Geez. I "friended" him, and he accepted so I think its him, but no word from him yet. He probably accepted and then either was also stunned by my appearance out of no where, or he had to run errands, go to work, who knows. So I'm anxiously waiting to hear from him.]
Mike was at the Sacred Fools Theater, in L.A., for a while.
And so, here's the article that started all this, yesterday....
============
Annex Theatre turns “legal”
[Annex Theatre website]
Veteran fringe theatre faces challenges of young adulthood
[From: SGN article]
It’s unlikely the founders of Seattle’s Annex Theatre envisioned their scrappy little “fringe company” surviving into its third decade of operation. Frustrated by the lack of opportunity in the Seattle theatre scene in the mid 1980’s, they were simply looking to feed their creative impulses, and banded together more out of mutual self interest, than with any intent to create a cultural legacy.
Yet, that’s exactly what Annex’s “founding five”: Bainbridge High School grads Garrett Bennett, Micha Rice, John Lawler, and Dave Skubinna, along with Skubinna’s fellow Western Washington University Drama alum, Mike Rainey, created when they put on their first production, a pastiche of short plays titled “Midnight Snack”, at Bainbridge Performing Arts Storefront Theatre in 1986.
Now, more than 20 years later, their “little theatre that could” has amassed a body of artistic achievement that puts even Seattle’s major professional houses to shame: nearly 400 productions, including countless world, West Coast and regional premieres; working associations with some of the country’s most innovative playwrights, including Erik Ehn, Glen Berger, Naomi Iizuka, Jeffrey Jones, and Anne Washburn; and most importantly, the development of a sort of “graduate school” environment for a whole host of writers, actors, directors, designers, musicians, and scenic artists, an impressive number of whom have gone onto successful careers not only at the region’s more established theatre companies, but who include among their ranks nationally, even internationally recognized artists such as: Academy Award-nominee Paul Giamatti, L.A. Drama Critics Award-winner Jillian Armanante, former Empty Space Theatre Artistic Director Allison Narver, Seattle Town Hall Executive Director Wier Harmon, solo performer Lauren Weedman, and local playwright/composer Chris Jeffries, to name a few.
Much of Annex’s success lies in its flexibility and responsiveness to the needs and ambitions of its members. Built on a consensus-driven, “collective” management model, all the company’s members have a voice in selecting its management staff and artistic production. Not surprisingly, all of Annex’s founders have moved on (Skubinna succumbed to AIDS in 1994), but what is surprising is the relative ease with which it has continued to reinvent itself, through the tenures of six artistic directors, the participation of hundreds of individual artists, and despite vacating its long-time venue on Fourth Avenue, followed by four years of itinerancy, before finally achieving a soft-landing at Capitol Hill’s CHAC in 2005.
As it approaches its 21st birthday, however, Annex shows little sign of slumping into a complacent, self-satisfied middle-age. A new home brings an invigorating sense of purpose, along with a new generation of ambitious young artists who have been attracted by both the company’s history and reputation, as well as by the promise of future glory.
Art is always a risky business. And yet, while there are no guarantees, Annex Theatre seems to have found a formula for success that has elevated it to the level of a true cultural icon. The “little theatre that could” has proven it can, with polish and panache. And with hard work, savvy programming, and just a little bit of luck, Annex should be around for another 10, even 20 years, providing a creative outlet for young, talented artists who will continue to uphold its mission of “creating bold new work in an environment of improbability, resourcefulness and risk.”
The Annex - Production History
Courtesy of Annex Theatre (2007)
Before the 1983-84 school year, maybe, as I attended, it was the summer session. Anyway, I was chosen for a small, special screenwriting class of eight people. I was the oddball, as I was a Psych major, they were all theater majors, actors, dancers, playwrights. Mike Rainey, Dave Scabina, Sean, Tami, my best guesses at their names from what I could remember.
I had been looking for them ever since. Not like I hired detectives, but when I'd think about it, I'd try to find them and never found who I thought might be them. How I could have missed them, I have no idea.
Since the internet has been available, I've been trying to find those guys or girls. I couldn't remember their names for years; I can't even remember everyone in the group; were there two girls? Seems like it, but I can't really remember (geez, that's pretty sad).
A couple of years ago, I found a few names (that I mentioned above). I searched on WWU website. Nothing. I've searched the internet, nothing. Just this minute, I thought, type in Mike Rainey Western Washington University.
Bang!
I got a hit! I couldn't believe it at first.
Below, is the article.
But now, I'm a little stunned. Because I just read that Dave, had died, of AIDS. I really hate that damn thing, I've lost too many friends and cool people to it.
I'm putting this article here, so I can reference it later. I'd really like to find any of them; they were such a talented group. But I was most friends with Mike, Dave and Chris. They were sad when I graduated, before them. It broke up the team.
We had such a blast together that year, along with our instructor, Bob Schelonka. I've wanted to find them for years, to see if we could do something together art wise; but it was apparently not to be. Now Dave is gone. I don't know where Mike is. We created some fun scripts that year, we laughed hard, had a great time. I remember working on a script with I think, Dave and Chris, I can't now remember, sitting on my apartment living room floor in "Happy Valley", till my girlfriend Monica, finally threw everyone out.
Chris and I did the "Popsicle Death" script. Actually, Bob said, everyone write down a paragraph for a story. Okay, now shift it left to the person next to you. Now, take that paragraph and write a short script for next class (in two days). So I wrote what came to be the notorious, Popsicle Death, script. I'm currently putting it into a screenplay I'm writing, tentatively titled, "HearthTales" (soon to be at a theater near you!). So these guys had an impact upon my entire life really. Monica is no longer around my life, nor my two wives that came after her. But that class will be with me forever and the work from that class may still one day end up on screen.
Well, anyway, here's to that class(!) and the amazing things at least some of us, did after we graduated. Oh, and if you wonder at the difference between the spelling of "Theatre" and "Theater", as any drama major knows, real acting happens in a "Theatre", you go to see a movie at a "Theater". :)
For the first time ever on this blog, an image....
The “founding fathers” of Annex Theatre.
From left: Dave Skubinna, Micha Rice, Garrett Bennett,
Mike Rainey, Brian Finney, and John Lawler. (circa 1988)
[As an addendum, I think I may have actually (Finally) found Mike. On Facebook of all places. Even though, I've looked there for him many times. Geez. I "friended" him, and he accepted so I think its him, but no word from him yet. He probably accepted and then either was also stunned by my appearance out of no where, or he had to run errands, go to work, who knows. So I'm anxiously waiting to hear from him.]
Mike was at the Sacred Fools Theater, in L.A., for a while.
And so, here's the article that started all this, yesterday....
============
Annex Theatre turns “legal”
[Annex Theatre website]
Veteran fringe theatre faces challenges of young adulthood
[From: SGN article]
It’s unlikely the founders of Seattle’s Annex Theatre envisioned their scrappy little “fringe company” surviving into its third decade of operation. Frustrated by the lack of opportunity in the Seattle theatre scene in the mid 1980’s, they were simply looking to feed their creative impulses, and banded together more out of mutual self interest, than with any intent to create a cultural legacy.
Yet, that’s exactly what Annex’s “founding five”: Bainbridge High School grads Garrett Bennett, Micha Rice, John Lawler, and Dave Skubinna, along with Skubinna’s fellow Western Washington University Drama alum, Mike Rainey, created when they put on their first production, a pastiche of short plays titled “Midnight Snack”, at Bainbridge Performing Arts Storefront Theatre in 1986.
Now, more than 20 years later, their “little theatre that could” has amassed a body of artistic achievement that puts even Seattle’s major professional houses to shame: nearly 400 productions, including countless world, West Coast and regional premieres; working associations with some of the country’s most innovative playwrights, including Erik Ehn, Glen Berger, Naomi Iizuka, Jeffrey Jones, and Anne Washburn; and most importantly, the development of a sort of “graduate school” environment for a whole host of writers, actors, directors, designers, musicians, and scenic artists, an impressive number of whom have gone onto successful careers not only at the region’s more established theatre companies, but who include among their ranks nationally, even internationally recognized artists such as: Academy Award-nominee Paul Giamatti, L.A. Drama Critics Award-winner Jillian Armanante, former Empty Space Theatre Artistic Director Allison Narver, Seattle Town Hall Executive Director Wier Harmon, solo performer Lauren Weedman, and local playwright/composer Chris Jeffries, to name a few.
Much of Annex’s success lies in its flexibility and responsiveness to the needs and ambitions of its members. Built on a consensus-driven, “collective” management model, all the company’s members have a voice in selecting its management staff and artistic production. Not surprisingly, all of Annex’s founders have moved on (Skubinna succumbed to AIDS in 1994), but what is surprising is the relative ease with which it has continued to reinvent itself, through the tenures of six artistic directors, the participation of hundreds of individual artists, and despite vacating its long-time venue on Fourth Avenue, followed by four years of itinerancy, before finally achieving a soft-landing at Capitol Hill’s CHAC in 2005.
As it approaches its 21st birthday, however, Annex shows little sign of slumping into a complacent, self-satisfied middle-age. A new home brings an invigorating sense of purpose, along with a new generation of ambitious young artists who have been attracted by both the company’s history and reputation, as well as by the promise of future glory.
Art is always a risky business. And yet, while there are no guarantees, Annex Theatre seems to have found a formula for success that has elevated it to the level of a true cultural icon. The “little theatre that could” has proven it can, with polish and panache. And with hard work, savvy programming, and just a little bit of luck, Annex should be around for another 10, even 20 years, providing a creative outlet for young, talented artists who will continue to uphold its mission of “creating bold new work in an environment of improbability, resourcefulness and risk.”
The Annex - Production History
Courtesy of Annex Theatre (2007)
A Psychologist in the Theatre Department
At noon today, I'll talk about my search for my friends from screenwriting class at Western Washington University, from the early 80s. I've been looking for these people ever since. After college I went through a rough period, the most difficult in my life. When I started "paying attention" again, everyone had graduated and were out in the world and I never could find them. But this, is about how I met that group of seven (eight, if you include our instructor, Bob).
In my third year of college, I realized I had more credits than I needed. Because the VA was paying for college, I went summer quarters too. I was in the Air Force, went in Viet Nam Era, what they now call, for some reason, Post Viet Nam Era; but either way, I got full Viet Nam Era benefits. So, I decided with all those extra credits, I could go for a second major (I was a Psych Major). I thought maybe, writing, or Lit, but decided I would just get a Minor in Creative Writing. What the Hell. And so it is that officially, I have a Bachelor of Arts and Letters in Psychology, Awareness and Reasoning Division, and a Minor in Creative Writing.
My first class toward my Minor, was Fiction Writing. I wrote three short stories that quarter. We were each to write two. They we voted on two people to write an extra story each for Finals Day, as this class had no final. I was voted along with another person, a talented female writer. Mostly we had "house wife" types (They weren't married, it was more of an attitude), females writing bad romantic stories that made you want to leap from the window. But, everyone was very nice and it was a fun, if stressful (when it was your time), class.
We would have to write a story, submit it in copies. Then everyone got one and had to read it the night before class when it was your turn. That day, you'd read your story in class, then everyone would critique it, finally the Professor would and we went to the next person. You got the notes from everyone. My first story, was Andrew, about a boy who witnessed his parents death in a car accident and he became autistic. From there it got weird. I'm currently putting that story into an anthology of horror stories.
The class loved it. The Prof. hated it. For my second story, I told my girlfriend, Monica, whom I lived with (Monie, for short, Mon eee, not money, her mom was Monica, so she wasn't, just to keep them separate in conversations), that I was going to write a story the Prof. would love. So I did. Sarah, was the story, about an old woman with Alzheimer's. He was charmed. I had won him over. Then came time for the two extra stories on Final's Day. I was surprised and pleased I was one of those chosen. I had my grade by that time, so I told Monie, I was going to write a story that would spin his (The Prof.'s) head off. And I did.
He said, "I just don't know what to make of you, or your writings. You'll either do very well, or not very well at all." But he told me, that I didn't use dialog that well, or practically, at all, and so, he was sending me to the Theatre department for work in playwriting, because that, was all dialog and I would learn something. And so, I ended up in the Theatre Department.
And so...I showed up at the PAC at WWU campus with great anxiety and trepidation. We met in a small stage area downstairs. A few days into the class, I was there early, waiting in the main offices hallway, where the Professors have their offices. It was a busy day. There were students all over. I was standing there, watching some very strange happenings. I had to go to the rest room, so I headed in there, not a little concerned about what I might run into in there.
Sure enough, there was a guy at the mirror, talking to himself very passionately. I assumed he was practicing a speech, or some dialog or something. I went about my business, then back into the hallway. I sat on a bench. Another guy was there, as it turned out, it was Chris, whom I got to know well over that next year. We sat there, taking everything in. There were maybe ten students up and down the hall, doing their lines, reading their lines, whatever.
Then one guy, on my left, near the end of the hall, started saying: "I will take my power glove, and I will kill you." And he aimed it down the hallway. No one paid him any attention, except, one guy at the far end of the hallway who, reacted with his own fear and trepidation. The guy by me, aimed his fist at the guy down the hall and made sound effects as if he were shooting a power beam. I had to look at the other guy, as did Chris sitting next to me. The guy at the end of the hallway, reacted as if a power beam had indeed hit him, he flew up against the wall, in obvious pain, and started slipping down, muttering in pain and obvious dismay.
Chris turned and looked at me. We had spoken before and he knew I was from the Psych department, there to get a minor in writing. He smiled and said:
"So. We're pretty much the types you study about over in the Psych department, aren't we."
Not knowing what to say, and not really wanting to be rude, I said:
"Pretty much. But, I think, I like it!" Chris smiled. It was at that moment, that I felt a part of this department. My cousin Sheryl, had been into theatre in High School and her friends were great fun, though a little intimidating as they tended to be extroverts to my more introverted nature (which I've since kind of gotten over, mostly).
Eventually, my playwriting class turned into a special, year long screenwriting class I was chosen for, along with Chris who was sitting next to me, Mike who was shooting off his power glove, and the guy at the other end of the hallway. I'll talk about that at the noon blog today. All I can say, was that at that moment, sitting there with Chris, I was starting to wish I had been a theatre major.
Except, as was later exhibited in the playwriting class, I was a horrible actor.
In my third year of college, I realized I had more credits than I needed. Because the VA was paying for college, I went summer quarters too. I was in the Air Force, went in Viet Nam Era, what they now call, for some reason, Post Viet Nam Era; but either way, I got full Viet Nam Era benefits. So, I decided with all those extra credits, I could go for a second major (I was a Psych Major). I thought maybe, writing, or Lit, but decided I would just get a Minor in Creative Writing. What the Hell. And so it is that officially, I have a Bachelor of Arts and Letters in Psychology, Awareness and Reasoning Division, and a Minor in Creative Writing.
My first class toward my Minor, was Fiction Writing. I wrote three short stories that quarter. We were each to write two. They we voted on two people to write an extra story each for Finals Day, as this class had no final. I was voted along with another person, a talented female writer. Mostly we had "house wife" types (They weren't married, it was more of an attitude), females writing bad romantic stories that made you want to leap from the window. But, everyone was very nice and it was a fun, if stressful (when it was your time), class.
We would have to write a story, submit it in copies. Then everyone got one and had to read it the night before class when it was your turn. That day, you'd read your story in class, then everyone would critique it, finally the Professor would and we went to the next person. You got the notes from everyone. My first story, was Andrew, about a boy who witnessed his parents death in a car accident and he became autistic. From there it got weird. I'm currently putting that story into an anthology of horror stories.
The class loved it. The Prof. hated it. For my second story, I told my girlfriend, Monica, whom I lived with (Monie, for short, Mon eee, not money, her mom was Monica, so she wasn't, just to keep them separate in conversations), that I was going to write a story the Prof. would love. So I did. Sarah, was the story, about an old woman with Alzheimer's. He was charmed. I had won him over. Then came time for the two extra stories on Final's Day. I was surprised and pleased I was one of those chosen. I had my grade by that time, so I told Monie, I was going to write a story that would spin his (The Prof.'s) head off. And I did.
He said, "I just don't know what to make of you, or your writings. You'll either do very well, or not very well at all." But he told me, that I didn't use dialog that well, or practically, at all, and so, he was sending me to the Theatre department for work in playwriting, because that, was all dialog and I would learn something. And so, I ended up in the Theatre Department.
And so...I showed up at the PAC at WWU campus with great anxiety and trepidation. We met in a small stage area downstairs. A few days into the class, I was there early, waiting in the main offices hallway, where the Professors have their offices. It was a busy day. There were students all over. I was standing there, watching some very strange happenings. I had to go to the rest room, so I headed in there, not a little concerned about what I might run into in there.
Sure enough, there was a guy at the mirror, talking to himself very passionately. I assumed he was practicing a speech, or some dialog or something. I went about my business, then back into the hallway. I sat on a bench. Another guy was there, as it turned out, it was Chris, whom I got to know well over that next year. We sat there, taking everything in. There were maybe ten students up and down the hall, doing their lines, reading their lines, whatever.
Then one guy, on my left, near the end of the hall, started saying: "I will take my power glove, and I will kill you." And he aimed it down the hallway. No one paid him any attention, except, one guy at the far end of the hallway who, reacted with his own fear and trepidation. The guy by me, aimed his fist at the guy down the hall and made sound effects as if he were shooting a power beam. I had to look at the other guy, as did Chris sitting next to me. The guy at the end of the hallway, reacted as if a power beam had indeed hit him, he flew up against the wall, in obvious pain, and started slipping down, muttering in pain and obvious dismay.
Chris turned and looked at me. We had spoken before and he knew I was from the Psych department, there to get a minor in writing. He smiled and said:
"So. We're pretty much the types you study about over in the Psych department, aren't we."
Not knowing what to say, and not really wanting to be rude, I said:
"Pretty much. But, I think, I like it!" Chris smiled. It was at that moment, that I felt a part of this department. My cousin Sheryl, had been into theatre in High School and her friends were great fun, though a little intimidating as they tended to be extroverts to my more introverted nature (which I've since kind of gotten over, mostly).
Eventually, my playwriting class turned into a special, year long screenwriting class I was chosen for, along with Chris who was sitting next to me, Mike who was shooting off his power glove, and the guy at the other end of the hallway. I'll talk about that at the noon blog today. All I can say, was that at that moment, sitting there with Chris, I was starting to wish I had been a theatre major.
Except, as was later exhibited in the playwriting class, I was a horrible actor.
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