THE FATHER/DAUGHTER DANCE

Every year around this time, I take my daughter to the Father/Daughter dance. We went this past Saturday. It is the high point of the Father/Daughter social calendar. Thankfully, it only happens once a year.

It is the only time of the year where you will find me in a suit. It is also the only time of year you will see me wearing a boutonniere. It is also the only time of year my daughter willingly brushes her hair. (This is a biggy.)

We have been going to this same dance since my daughter was in Kindergarten. This is our fourth year. Each time we walk toward the doors to the auditorium, my daughter says she can't wait to dance with me. As we enter the auditorium she disappears along with all the other girls. They run around, eat candy, take pictures and dance with each other like happy little bunnies.

The fathers are always left standing there. We look at each other in our suits and boutonnieres. We are middle aged. Gravity pulls a few of us together in clumps. We chat about how fun it is to be here. We chat about how quality time with our daughters is invaluable. The music is loud so we really can't understand each other. There are uncomfortable silences. We look at the clock. Two hours left.

Sometimes our daughters will run over and say how much fun this dance is. Then they'll run away. I want to grab my daughter and tell her she has to protect me from the man who wants to talk about life insurance. 

A few times throughout the night, our daughters will grab our hands and pull us onto the dance floor for a disco song. We middle aged men will dance and then suddenly find we are alone and that our daughters have scuttled off to take more pictures and eat more candy. We are left to do YMCA by ourselves. Once we realize we're alone and dancing together, we all fake an urgent cell phone call and run away.

A few of the men continue to dance. We avoid them.

This past Saturday, something happened at the dance which scared me. A lot.

All the men were talking with each other when the DJ started playing something from High School Musical. Suddenly all the fathers started to smile and bob their heads back and forth. They started singing. The FATHERS all ran to find their daughters so they could dance. I was chatting with some father about taxes or something when he looked away dreamily and started mouthing the words to the song. It was as if he was an Eloi summoned to the Morlocks dinner table. "Sorry, Paul, " he said dreamily. "I must find Carey-Ann and dance to this. I must. Must dance."

Now. Know this. The Ruggs don't have cable. We took it out years ago. We don't have TIVO. We don't watch that much TV. I have raised my daughter on the classics. MR. ED DVDs. GENE AUTRY B-MOVIE DVDs. SANTA CLAUS CONQUERS THE MARTIANS. The good stuff.

I didn't want my daughter to feel left out. I started dancing with her. She and I looked around on the dance floor. All the other fathers and daughters had glazed, frozen smiles on their faces. They all knew the same moves. ALL OF THEM. My daughter and I tried to play along for fear that we'd be found out. It was sort of like Invasion Of The Body Snatchers, but slightly more horrifying. 

Once the music ended everyone just sort of stayed in place for a moment and then suddenly jerked as if woken up. A few of the men looked at their watches. Where had the last 5 minutes gone. Where am I?

They all wandered off the dance floor leaving my daughter and I alone to dance to Sinatra.

"I like this song, daddy." 

Good. Stick with me, kid.

GUEST BLOG - CHESTER PHELPH

Hello. My name is Chester Phelph and I am a junior novice in the Greater Los Angeles Aviation  Enthusiasts Club - Council 23 (San Fernando Valley Region - Commercial Aviation Only.) I say I am a junior novice, but that will change soon as I will become a senior novice by the end of this year. Perhaps in a few years I will make it into the Expert Novice division and be able to be a part of all the exciting stuff and benefits that comes with that designation. But enough about me and all that stuff that I was just talking about.

It was a great weekend for spotting planes here in council 23's designated viewing area. We had some rain, but that is always better for taking pictures and the planes are always shinier. I was assigned to general spotting detail with fellow junior novice, Ray Monticeto, but Ray woke up on Saturday with a wasting disease and said he had to pass.

At approximately 7:42AM (I'm sorry about all this detail but the council says I need to be specific in my details) I arrived at LAX with my camera and pad and paper and two Zagnut bars.

At approximately 7:53AM I took up position at the public viewing area. Members of a rival club, the California Jet Watchers Association, were also present. They stole my Zagnut bars.

At approximately 7:57, I began taking pictures. 

This is my video report:

STEVEN HAWKING'S NEW COMEDY ALBUM

In case you didn't know, I'm a HUGE Steven Hawking fan. I was super excited to just hear that his comedy album will be coming out shortly. The album, HAWKING GOES BANG, was recorded at the Oxford Laughing Post.

A friend of mine at Oxford Press Albums just sent me a little preview. It's soooo funny and soooo Hawking. He's just amazing.

It's only a couple of minutes, but here are the clips.

LOW PROFILE

I'm not sure, but I think HU Jintao is having me tailed by his goons. They're outside in sweatsuits pretending to play basketball in the street. Only they're kicking it and keep saying "touchdown" in broken English.

Anyway. I'm on to their little game...

So, if something should happen to me, be nice to one another and buy the Freakazoid Second Season DVD when it comes out on April 21st.

Paul

CHRISTIAN BALE VS. HU JINTAO

In an email to Christian Bale yesterday, I lovingly suggested that he direct his anger at people that actually deserve it. I suggested a good target might be HU Jintao, the president of China. 

To my surprise, it seems such a confrontation already occurred a few days ago. The president of China and his interpreter were visiting the set of Bale's new movie, Darkly Thus Darkly, when HU accidentally wandered onto the set and ruined a shot.

A friend of mine who was on the soundstage at the time secretly recorded the following exchange. WARNING! The audio contains explicit language. Be advised.

ANGER MANAGEMENT TIPS FOR CHRISTIAN BALE

This morning I heard audio of actor Christian Bale being not at all nice to a director of photography who accidentally ruined a scene being filmed.

I don't know if you've heard the audio, but Mr. Bale has quite a large potty mouth and uses many bad words. Many. Many many many. He's also very angry. Angry angry angry. If you want to hear it, I warn you that it is very explicit and mean spirited. CLICK. But make sure you come back. Because I have some ideas to help Christian Bale get back to his happy place.

Welcome back. Wasn't that icky? Didn't you feel for the poor director of photography? I almost cried. (But didn't.)

Well, while you were listening to that, I sent off an email to Mr. Bale with some helpful tips on how to control such outbreaks and get back to a happy place. Remember, my wife is Cuban. I know what I'm taking about.

1. Remember, Christian, you are very rich. Quite a bit richer than most everyone else. When you want to yell and be mean to someone, think about how much richer you are than them and how insignificant they are in the general scheme of things. Reserve your anger for those who are richer than you. They are the ones you should be angry at; people who have more than you. For instance, I don't think anyone would have a problem with you berating the president of China, HU Jintao.

This man is far more powerful and much more deserving of your ire.

2. Hold a puppy.

 Keep a crate of 6 week old puppies nearby. With your incredible wealth, I'm sure it would be easy to keep a weekly supply of puppies on hand. HOWEVER, you must not keep them over one week. 7 week old puppies tend to play bite and I wouldn't want you going ballistic on a puppy.

3. Move To Australia.

 

Having been to Australia myself, I happen to know that it's a much happier place than Hollywood. They have all those cute, little Koalas. The air is fresh. Everyone says, "no worries" and means it. And, if you think you feel a tantrum coming on, you can always go to the outback where there are thousands of empty, square miles for you to stomp around and be angry in without bothering anyone. You might even run into Russell Crowe and the two of you can maul a dingo.

4. Remember Micky Rourke?

 

He had a pretty good career going, too. Until...anger and weirdness made people not want to hire him. For years he just sat there being weird. Years and years of nobody calling. The same could happen to you. Don't be angry and weird. (But he's come a long way and learned the puppy tip.)

5. Wrestle a bear. 

It's amazing how much happier you'll feel after having survived.

6. Keep this up and nobody will like you. In these trying economic times, nobody wants to hear about a rich, whiny, self-centered, moody, mean-spirited actor yelling at people. They won't want to go see your movies. They'll want to laugh. They'll want to see more funny, happy movies like, 'Paul Blart - Mall Cop' which cost substantially less than yours and makes more economic sense.

7. Play with clay. Studies have shown that idle hands are angry hands. If someone on the set makes you mad, go to your dressing room and make a clay figure of them. Then mash them and squeeze them and hurt them. Return to the set a happier man.

8. Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Don't spend it being a jerk. 

THE CRUELTY MUST STOP!!!!

NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!

I had intended on telling you all about a very interesting weekend spent spent in Peru doing Peruvian things with my family and Peruvian people. (There was even going to be a mention of Aliens and a golden gift given to my daughter by Natinga, ruler of the celestial forces.) It was all so interesting that I finally thought, "At last! I have some very interesting things to blog about." But the events of the morning bid me otherwise.

As far as I know, Punxsultawney Phil is the only TALKING BEAST IN THE WORLD. He talks, for heaven's sake! He predicts the weather, for goodness gravy!

And what do we do? We roughly shove him back into a crate after he's whispered something to a man in a large hat. THINK ABOUT THIS! A creature....a NON HUMAN CREATURE has just whispered something to a man...actually used WORDS to SAY SOMETHING...AND HE IS SHOVED BACK INTO A CRATE!

Now, unless the man in the hat is deceiving us and Punxsultawney Phil has not whispered to him (which I don't believe for a moment because there are too many people involved to keep a secret like that) then...why don't we ask this creature other questions? Hmm? 

What I'm saying is, if this groundhog has been given the gift of speech and the power to predict the weather, why, that's probably just the tip of the iceberg. I find it inconceivable that a groundhog with these powers wouldn't have others as well. I mean, why just those powers? That's pretty lame. I say there's more. What else can he do? Warp space and time? Perhaps. Defy gravity? Possibly. Stick it to Putin with a heat ray? Maybe. 

LET THE GROUNDHOG SPEAK TO THE REST OF US! LET US HEAR FOR OURSELVES WHAT HE HAS TO SAY! WHO ARE YOU, MAN IN THE BIG HAT, TO BE THE ONLY ONE TO HEAR WHAT THE GROUNDHOG HAS TO SAY?!!!

For all we know, the groundhog might be whispering these words to the man in the big hat: "Please! Free me! I have much to tell! Free me! No! Don't put me back in the crate for another year! No! No! I know things! I can save the world! Obama is...!" SLAM. The crate shuts.

I am ashamed to be an American. I guess "hope and change" haven't made it to a little town in Pennsylvania where a real live talking beast isn't allowed to express himself fully and to tell of what other wonders he can do.

This groundhog must be rescued from his evil keeper. I'd go do it myself but things are so busy and crazy right now what with all the busy and crazy things going on. 

Punxsultawney Phil must be allowed to address the nation without his creepy handler standing by. He should be given time on all the major networks. Even...address the UN.

FREE PHIL! FREE PHIL! FREE PHIL!