I finally got to go to my first showing of Channel 101*.  For those who don't follow links, it's basically a night where they screen five-minute episodes of homemade television series.  You make a pilot, send it in, and if it's not too bad, then they'll show it at the screening.  The audience votes, and the top 5 get to make the next episode in their series.  The quality of the videos range from pretty bad to decent, but none are out of the Segues caliber range, in my opinion.  There were nine shows screened tonight, and some were funny, others not so much.  But better than all of the episodes was a music video that started the show.  It's made by a group called The Lonely Island, and the song is Just 2 Guyz*, which you can find under the What's New section on the front page.  These guys collaborate on several of the Channel 101 shows.  After going to the show tonight, I'm confident that we can put something together and compete.

*The language at this site is not exactly children-friendly if you know what I mean.

Ironically, I found that the Olympics inspired me to glue my butt down on the couch and watch TV for two weeks.  I did exercise a couple of times while watching the games.  I found that the soccer games were a good thing to run to, because I knew how much harder the players on the screen were working.  It's finally over, so I can go back to my non-TV-watching everyday life, and it's none too soon, because I actually watched The Patriot on TV today.  No, not the cool one with Mel Gibson, the lame one with Steven Seagal.

I want to blog.  I do.  But I'm lazy.  Side note: It's funny that my shaving entry garnered so much more serious discussion than did my career blog.  Note to self:  keep it superficial.

Watching the Olympic games, I've seen a lot of 16-year olds talk about their career, and they talk about in the past tense.  If I've started my career, I guess I don't know it yet.  How many of you have started your career?  What do you consider your career to be in?  If you haven't, when do you plan to start?

Well, it's not the shaving so much; it's the clean-up.  And I guess it's really beard-trimming that makes such a mess.  Hundreds of tiny hairs flying out of my Norelco, with me bent over the sink as far as possible trying to angle the trajectory of the hair into the basin, the easiest part of the bathroom to clean.  One day, I will live in a place where I can trim my beard outdoors, sacrificing the hair to the wind.  Or maybe someone could invent some sort of attachment for the Norelco akin to the bag on a lawn mower.

Jamie and I just finished watching a documentary called Home Movie.  For those of you who enjoy docs like Trekkies and Okie Noodling, you'll definitely want to check this one out.

As I type this, I'm listening to the Garden State soundtrack, which Coop was kind of enough to send me, as it was sold out already in these parts.  I forgot to mention a couple of celebrity sightings from the ArcLight the other night when we saw Garden State.  When we arrived, there was some special screening for Shaun of the Dead, and there were several zombies walking around outside.  Inside was a tall, balding, blond comedian whose name I don't know.  I'll have to do some research.  After the movie, as we peered out across the lobby from upstairs, I spotted David Carradine.  I couldn't think of his name fast enough, and so I pointed him out as “Bill” from Kill Bill, fortunately out of his earshot.  Then, as we hung around talking in the parking garage, the diminutive Giovanni Ribisi walked by.  Actually, by the time I finished typing this, I'm now listening to The Postal Service.

I saw Monster's Ball a while back, and I can't say that it struck me as an Oscar-worthy performance.  Now, every time I see a Catwoman trailer, or pretty much anything involving Halle Berry, I can't believe that she's an Oscar winner.  I think it would haunt me if I ever won an Oscar, by some bizarre chance (very bizarre since I'm not an actor).  I'd be up there accepting my trophy, all the while thinking that it put me in the same class as Halle Berry.  Something I wouldn't be proud of.  So, to untaint the Oscar, I say we recall Berry's award.

We finally got to go see Garden State last night.  It's an artsy-indie film, written, directed and acted by Zach Braff from Scrubs.  I don't think it's been released beyond NY and LA yet, but will this weekend.  Now, I'm reviewing it, so if you haven't seen it, and don't like to be tainted, skip the rest of this. 

Here's some text to distract you from the real content, in case your eyes skip ahead and you really don't want to be tainted.

I thought it was really good--well-acted, beautifully composed, and emotionally provocative.  It is not a comedy, but there are definitely some funny parts.  The reason it isn't a comedy is probably because there are at least as many sad parts.  I was somewhat surprised that Jamie loved it.  There are a lot of ways that you could say it's depressing, but it's not without hope.  I think all of these things--funny, sad, depressing, hopeful--help to make it seem more real.  For me, it was a reminder of how people misconstrue what a successful life is all about.  It made me sad, because of the people I know that never made it out of that world.  I'll probably see it again.  The soundtrack is excellent.  It came out yesterday, I think, and it's already sold out.

(Fixed spelling of provocative from procative.  Left this note so that Mark's comment would make sense.)