ROCK!

So Saturday I went and hung with Anne Marie, because I can easily do that now. We can now hang out any time we want. Any time! We went and had lunch. We saw Stardust, which was...um...cute. This really is only slightly related to the topic of this post. I state this for other family members who are looking to further their education as an example of some of the fun that could be had if you went to one of the universities in the LA area *cough Mandy cough* . Or even for those looking to enroll to a University only about six hours away *cough Ben I. cough* it would be great to have you on the same coast and available for a nice long weekend visit. I'm just saying.

Back to topic. I've been in ROCK mood the last few weeks, and I blame this on Guitar Hero. This has lead to making room on my Nano for more AC/DC, Stones, Priest, Motorhead, etc. I've also been looking for more obscure "classic rock" bands. Much like when I stumbled across the band UFO awhile back. This leads up to this weekend when Anne and I went to Amoeba. After much searching after mind blanking on their name, I picked up a Hellacopters album "Grande Rock. They aren't really that obscure, but the other album I picked up is. The group is called Starz. Yes, that is a "Z" at the end. Anyway, I picked up their anthology as a sampler. Man it feeds that classic rock need I currently have. With such songs as "Cherry Baby," "Boys in Action," "Rock Six Times," and "Detroit Girls" it's amazing that their only semi-hit was Cherry Baby. I would also like to point out that they deserve a little credit for praising Detroit Girls as the greatest girls in the world, because I would've never placed the greatest girls as living in Detroit. California girls? That's not surprising. Southern Girls? That's easy. Detroit? Who knew? Thanks you Starz.



I'm also including Hellacopters "The Devil Stole the Beat from the Lord" because it's a great title and a great song.



One more thing, why don't the Guitar Hero games include more obscure classic rock bands like Starz, and UFO? I appreciate that they give a bunch of current unknown bands a shot in the unlockables. But, why not throw in a few of these older groups so they can be rediscovered?

Happy Birthday Ben I!

Happy Birthday Sam!

This Picture is For The Ladies

This Picture is To Keep You Humble
(Sam's the one in flower print overalls)

That Weekend Where Jennie and Inga Visit

As mentioned in the previous post, my sister Jennie and my niece Inga came to California for around ten days. There reason for coming is because Inga was selected to be an extra in the Tom Hanks movie Charlie Wilson's War. More details can be found on Jennie's blog.

Jennie and Inga had the weekend free of shooting, so they came down and spent Saturday and Sunday with me. I guess I should say some of Saturday, because they got a VIP pass to Universal Studios Theme Park. I've been in LA for seven years and have never been to the theme park. I've been to the gaudy Universal Walk where nobody should ever visit. The theme park itself wasn't awful. It's no Cedar Point, but it's not a bad place to take the kids.

There is one area that has cannons and such to fire these foam balls around. Nothing in the place worked so everyone in there resorted to simply throwing them at complete strangers. It seemed a little odd that this is one place where you can hit a stranger in the face with a ball and they won't want to beat the shit out of you.

The rest of the night was spent in El Segundo. Jennie and Inga met bobby. Inga struggled to fathom how someone could live in a place that had no bedrooms, only had one bathroom, and had neither a basement or attic. I over cooked one half of the pizza and blamed it on the oven. Then I introduced Jennie to the TV show "Angel."

Sunday I took Jennie and Inga to my church. Once again, communion was taken. I should point out that nearly every time I've gone to church this year communion is taken. I keep looking for a rhyme or reason to the frequency but I can't determine what it is. I don't have a problem with taking communion. I just have a problem with my church's method. They have everyone line up and break a piece a bread off of a loaf. That means by the time I get there, about fifty people have touched the bread I'm putting in my mouth. It creeps me out.

Anyway, after church Inga wanted to meet and play with some of the kids there. I've gone off and on to this church for around five years and I met more people at the church through Jennie and Inga in that one day. Of course everyone thought Jennie and I were married at first. That's one of the problems with step-siblings not looking at all alike. Back in the day, when Mom would take us clothes shopping, Jennie would take little Mandy and start acting like we were husband and wife and I was neglecting my family. Everyone was impressed with Jennie and thought Inga was adorable.

After having lunch with the families Jennie and Inga met, we went back to my apartment so Inga could enjoy her first true Root Beer out of bottle. She really liked it even though I had told her the night before that Root Beer was made out of crushed roots and often worms would get caught in there. The worm juice is what made the Root Beer foam. We also watched The Incredibles, which looks absolutely amazing on my TV. It has now become the movie I will use to show off my TV.

Finally, I drove them back to their hotel in Santa Clarita. So that's three siblings and one niece that have come to visit me in sunny LA. That leaves four siblings, three sibling in laws, and seven nieces and nephews. Anne had already been here three times. Mandy will be here for her second time next month. I'll give Ben I, and Jaime a pass because they could be out to California soon enough. Ben K. and Julie get a small pass because they just had a little one, and were actually drove through LA when I was out here. Things just didn't work out so we could meet. Dan gets a small pass because he took care of the rest of the kids while Jennie was out here. I was thinking that Sam gets a pass because he lives in England, but nope. Sure, he has a job that gives him no free time, and it's a really long flight. He's single with no kids. No pass for you Sam.

Happy Birthday Evie!

May your birthday bring you this much joy.

*I seriously need some non-Christmas pictures.

Happy Birthday Amanda Michelle

My Plan Is Nearly Complete (Wringing Hands With An Evil Smile)

All my siblings have finally fallen under the spell of blogging. The last two hold outs (Jennie and Sam) are now blogging. Jennie has had "Filling Rooms" up for almost a month. Sam just started "Commonplaces" today. Everything has fallen into place now. The world will soon be mine. (This is the residual effect of watching so many Bond movies in 24 hours.)

Christmas Part Deux

The nice thing about large families is that you end up having to celebrate Christmas more than once. Those that are around on Christmas day get to celebrate it together and then we get to re-celebrate? with each group that rolls in afterwards.

This morning we celebrated the Petrys coming into town.

Thing is we are still short two brothers, a sister-in-law, and a niece. Somebody needs to get a bigger house.

Merry Christmas Everyboooody 2006

Thank You Ben and Julie and Sam

To Dare is to Do! COYS

The Two Days Before Christmas are for Baking! (And Anne Marie's Birthday)

How I Spent My Time During the Days of Nov. 22nd to Nov. 26th (Some Call it Thanksgiving Weekend)

For the first time in awhile I actually left the warm confines of LA for Thanksgiving. Since I am going to Maine for Christmas, I went to Ohio to spend time with my Dad, Ben I. and Jaime, and of course Evie and Moira. Here's a little breakdown of how things went.

Lesson #1: When your 70+ British taxi driver asks you if you are in the medical profession there is no correct answer. Either answer will result in you stuck listening to him go on about how he has problems with his bowels and how he finally got some medicine for it, but the problem is that the medicine he's taking is now leading to a burning sensation in his groin that makes sitting very difficult. Even though I answered his first question with a "no," he still asks for my advice. My advice: "Man, I don't know. Try a different medicine?" (Read the previous line in your best Dal voice for the best effect.) Thankfully, he took that as wise advice and changed the subject to some cute blond he took to the airport earlier.

Lesson #2: If you are flying out of LAX the weekend of Thanksgiving, the best time to arrive is Wednesday around 10 am. I've left at numerous times for Thanksgiving and it's usually always resulted in an hour plus wait just to get through security. Wed. at 10 am it took my twenty minutes from being dropped off to sitting at my gate.

It might have had something to do with me flying on Continental, who deserve "big ups!" for not charging me for lunch or headphones. This was one of the best flights I've ever had. Well, except for the tubby I was sitting next to that had no concept of personal space. At this point though I now expect to always sit next to this person. Am I the only one that sizes up the people waiting to board and ranks them in order of who I want to sit next to? I have never sat next to number one on my list. Number one on my list this time was Jaclyn Smith. She still looks fantastic. No, I didn't get to sit next to her.

Weather in Ohio is always a crapshoot. You really have no idea what you are going to get from one day to the next. Thankfully, it was unseasonably warm for the two days I was there. It was nice having two days of that perfect autumn weather.

Ben, Jaime, and the girls couldn't come till Friday, so Thursday was basically all comfort food (grilled cheese, macaroni and cheese, etc.) and football. A perfect lazy day.

So Friday was our Thanksgiving. Dad cooked up the family standard duck, stuffing, biscuits, etc. The rest of the evening was spent playing restaurant and Legos. The big bombshell of the evening though was when Evie stated that she no longer liked the color green. Green has been Evie's color of choice for a long time. Green was such a favorite of Evie's that nearly every Christmas gift she got last year came in the color green. Her new favorites are purple and pink. The rest of the family should really take note of this. Green seems to no longer be a color choice for Evie.

Saturday I flew home. America West could learn a few things from Continental. Is there a more depressing airport than Las Vegas? Detroit comes close.

The rest of the long weekend was spent seeing Deja Vu with Bobby. Bobby liked it more than I did, but it's a well executed sci-fi action film. Very enjoyable.

So Christmas is now coming down the pipe. This means Christmas shopping in between research questions, and putting up the little Christmas tree I took down only three months ago. Sigh.

Happy Birthday Ben!

Has it really been 28 years? It seems not too long ago you were the pudgy cheeked kid who always got stuck playing the baby in our home movies or the baby horse to Jennie's momma horse. How you actually survived being our little brother I don't know, but somehow you survived it all only slightly scathed. Now you have little girl, an Irish wife, and a great house. I would like to remind you that none of this would've been possible if I hadn't saved you from accidentally hanging yourself in the old farm house. I'm still expecting your first born son.

Ramblings

5 Days and counting till I move in to the new abode. The one thing I always realize when I move: I have too much crap. I have tried to eliminate some of it, but I have the irrational fear of throwing things away. It's a battle I've fought all my life. Take the other night when I attempted to clean out a box of stuff. It resulted in two things thrown away and the rest reorganized so I can put more junk into it. I still have gift wrap that Jiff put on a DVD he gave me. But it was handmade and you can't throw stuff like that away right? Why do I still have those computer disks when I don't even have computer with a disk reader? That I can't answer.

Anyway, everything is set up. I've ordered my bed, phone, cable, internet, and movers. For the first time in my life I'm hiring movers. Why? I hate moving so much that I feel guilty asking friends to help. I realize it might be a little overkill to ask movers to move a closet size studio of stuff, but I won't have to lift a finger. Except for my 360 and other gadgets. I moving that stuff myself. I like movers but I don't trust them. The odds on what will be broken first are drinking glass: 2-1, plate: 4-1, TV 15-1.

I went to Ikea for the second time last weekend. It went a little better than last time. The wierd thing was that the lady behind me was one of those weight lifting ladies with arms literally thicker than my legs. Like many weight lifting women these days she had the breast implants as well. I realize they do this because they want to still have some feminine aspect to their body, but it just makes things creepier. Did I mention she started flirting with me? Why should she be attracted to someone who can't even spot her when she's weight lifting? She could use me as a weight when she's doing arm curls. Not that asking her on a date just so she could help move my TV didn't cross my mind.

Speaking of women, I realized what I'm going to contribute when I find that significant other. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have the spouse that my family feels they have to tolerate. You see my sibling's spouse's are all wonderful, kind, and generous people. Even the guys my younger sisters date have been great guys. So where is the significant other that annoys the family? The one that the family talks about behind their back. The one that causes family members to second guess their holiday plans. Isn't every family required to have that one person? I think that's where I come in. I figure she will be one of those never shuts up and always says the wrong thing at the wrong time kind of person. She will always chew bubble gum loudly, and be kind of a ditz. She will often have the dear in headlights look when my family discusses politics and theology. I apologize to my family now.

I'm disheartend that I am excited about gas being $2.30 a gallon. When did it get to the point that you start thinking about buying gas in bulk?

I lost my fantasy football match up this week by .15. .15! A few weeks ago I scored the second most points in the league but lost because I was matched up against the guy with the most points. This fantasy football is kicking my ass. I feel like the Arizona Cardinals.

Twilight Singers concert tomorrow at the HOB: Sunset. Mark Lanegan is touring with them for the whole tour this time. The concert is worth it just to seem them cover Primal Scream's Deep Hit of Morning Sun. Dulli actually called in to my friend Bob's radio show in Norfolk. Turns out he also gets to have Dulli come in when they play Norfolk, and he gets to introduce them for the concert. If I had the money I would absolutely fly out to see that concert. Stupid TV job.

I would like to also take this time to thank Heroes for turning the corner and becoming a highly enjoyable TV show. I can now overlook the spots of bad dialoge and writing because the show has a prefect sense of fun. It feels like a bunch of geeks having fun coming up with this comic book TV show.

Happy Birthday Jennie!

Happy birthday to my only older sibling (by three months). I don't know how you do all you do and still have a that smile and joy. Can you bottle it or something because I'm sure you could make a fortune.
Jennie's the blonde in the middle

They Will All Soon Be Under My Control

Look who's joined the blog family now. Mandy, has officially joined the rest of us. That leaves one sister and one brother left. Soon though they will be like the rest of us...the rest of us...the rest of us.

Welcome to the World Isabel!

As our family celebrates a birthday, we also get to celebrate a birth. Isabel Florence Kessler was born early this morning. I don't think she knows what she's gotten herself into. Of course, after 27 hours of labour maybe she does. Congratulations to Julie and Ben K. I can't wait to see my new niece! I want pictures!

Happy Birthday Jaime!

Happy birthday to my first sister-in-law. You and Ben I. have been married what? 11 years? The first time I met you, you were sitting on the couch of Dad's old apartment. The first thing I noticed was the laugh that has now become the best laugh of everyone in the family. You've also blessed with two of the greatest little girls on earth. So Happy Birthday Jaime! My birthday gift to you is a picture of a donkey in human clothes.

Ramblings

First off, Happy Birthday to my family's own Irish lady, Julie. Our family is so lucky Ben K. married you. With you, some might say our family is actually civil. Thank you for being so patient with us, particularly during the holidays.

The fear of creeping out my neighbor has come to an end. Yesterday as her and her friend left her apartment building she introduced me as the one "cool" neighbor she has. That was nice. I do wonder how I beat out the Dave Baldwin look-a-like. I assume he probably hit on her when he was drunk off his ass, which seems to be every night. She then proceeded to invite me later that night to come over and "smoke a bowl" with her friends. I politely passed. I don't need to sit in a small room with strangers smoking weed.

The greatest album title of the year belongs to the Isley Brothers. They just released an album called..."Baby Makin' Music." Genius.

Earlier this week my Tivo recorded a show on ESPN Classic called Top 5 Reasons You Can't Blame Steve Bartman for the Cubs Losing the 2003 NLCS. I've always held that Bartman got the short end of the stick on this matter. There were so many other factors attributing to the Cubs loss that I wish the media would leave this guy alone. It seems every week there's a Bartman reference on Sportscenter. I guess that moment is our Buckner moment, when in actuality the Buckner moment is their Leon Durham moment. Here's the real problem. I thought I could handle watching it. I thought nearly three years was enough time for me to objectively watch the Cubs fall apart. I was so wrong. Five minutes in I was completely depressed. I started fastforwarding the highlights of the game because I couldn't take it. My anger rose every time some Marlin player started talking. What a loser. How long do I have to wait till I can handle this? Will the pain always be there till the Cubs actually win a World Series? Why did I ever become a Cubs fan?

Who do we blame for the come back of the polo shirt with the collars up? Kanye West?

Sportscenter's Make a Wish series + me alone in my apartment = Brad's Bawlfest. Really it's ridiculous. It's like they know exactly what shot is going to spring the waterworks.

Why didn't the boys at 3CT form a team for VH1's World Series of Pop Culture? It would be pure domination if we had a team.

Look we all know Superman would dominate if he played football. I wonder though if he could dominate in baseball. Sure he could probably be a solid power pitcher, but could he hit his spots when he pitches? His bat speed would be phenomenal, but I don't know if he could hit a curve ball or slider. Yes, I'm questioning Superman's hand-eye coordination. I think he could be a solid power hitter in an Adam Dunn kind of way, but I wouldn't guarantee he'd be a lock for the Hall of Fame.

I've been trying to keep this a secret for some time, but I have to let it out. Over a month ago, I caved and bought the Nintendo DS Lite. Sometimes that need to play Mario Kart simply becomes too strong. I'm so weak.

This Old Duplex

I've reached that point in the blogging where it's a bit of struggle to come up with stuff to write. Racking my brain for stories to tell, I've often reminded myself of the right side of this duplex on Wyandotte Ave. in Columbus, Ohio. This is the first home of my youth. I have a few faint memories of an apartment, and a house before this one, but nothing concrete. I've seen the pictures of the first two years of my existence in Georgia, but no memories. I don't even remember moving in to this duplex. I just remember being there.

It was nice cool old building with hardwood floors. It didn't have much of a yard, but it did have a sandbox and a cherry tree that I could reach from the back porch. My room was the attic at the top. I had the whole attic to myself. It was my domain. The only entrance was up the winding steps from the bathroom. It had one small window that you could see the city skyline from or launch Evel Knievel and his stunt cycle to thier death. It was the greatest bedroom any little boy could have.

Anyway, here are some of the remaining memories surrounding that duplex in my forgetful mind.

Our neighbor was an elderly lady named Margorie, I think. She often had some old guy visiting, I want to say his name was George. Every time we saw him he always made the same offer. "Would you like a rubber duck? What color would you like?" You might think "every time" would be an exageration, but he did ask every time. And every time he never had any rubber ducks. Never. In this day and age it would seem really creepy, but back then it was simply annoying. Why would he ask us for something he would never have? Why did he recieve joy out of this? Why did we consistently humor him?

One afternoon I went digging in our side yard with the dream of finding a fossil. To my suprise I actually found a human tooth. At first I thought perhaps I found a cavaman's tooth. I eventually came to my senses and realized that perhaps someone was murdered and once buried there. I kept digging and digging hoping to be able to find more teeth or maybe even a skull! I didn't find anything except my mother's anger for digging up her yard.

You know kids in the 70's you could trade in glass soda pop bottles for candy or baseball cards. There was many a weekend or summer day spent collecting bottles, taking them down to one of the stores and trading them for gobstoppers or baseball cards or Star Wars trading cards. Sure you can turn cans and bottles into recycling center and get cash these days. Back then there was no middle man. Those were good days when glass bottles could be used as currency. I found out much later that my Dad used to follow me each time to make sure I wasn't mugged.


There was time I learned that buttermilk was not the same as regular milk. Eating my cereal that morning I thought for sure I had poisoned myself on spoiled milk.

Making a shadow puppet of a dog on the wall, while singing "Hound Dog."

There were a couple kids that I played with on the block. The one constant kid lived next door in a hige white house. He was kind of an ass, and my parents didn't really like him. Heck, I didn't really like him. The thing was that his parents were one of the early adopters of HBO, so I made that sacrifice to see that old HBO opening with the cowboy hat and red shoe.

Only once did we ever have enough of a fear of a tornado that we actually holed up in the basement. Perhaps I should've been a little more frightened, but come on. We were camping in the basement. How cool is that?

I can't remember who gave it to us, but for a short time we had a stalk of sugar cane near the doorway to the kitchen. My parents would carve off a piece for our instant sugar rush. I was such a mild mannered kid, I guess they pumped sugar in me to see if I could ever become the crazy loud kid.

For a reason I can't remember I wanted to run away. I stuck a goodbye note in a metal tin on the dinner table. I walked about five blocks, came back, took the note out of the tin, and went upstairs to play with my Death Star.

Those are just a handful of a few. There's still the holidays celebrated there. The numerous dinners. The winter days helping Dad shovel snow. So on and so on. I think this house even beats the woods.