The Bitterest Pill

Hudson has been working on his short film entry into the school film festival.  He is writing, directing and starring.  Yes, the triple threat.  Which means three times the work for his Director of Photography/Producer/Sound Guy/Gopher/Key Grip/Driver (yours truly).  So, one Sunday recently we all went to my wife’s office to shoot this psychological thriller.  And, oddly enough, the shoot was a psychological thriller too.

My left arm isn’t working properly.  It’s not broken or injured, it’s just way past its warranty and acting up.  I can’t seem to reverse curl a jug of orange juice.  Luckily, I’m rarely called upon to reverse curl a jug of orange juice.

My daughter is a huge fan of the TV show Psych.  So, for her birthday, we tried to get her an autograph from one of the cast members.  It turned into a “chance” meeting at Starbucks.

A had an audition for a movie playing a pastor and/or a secular journalism professor.  Talk about playing two ends of a continuum.  Apparently, when I want to seem like a man of the clothe, I take off my glasses.  Now, THAT’S acting.

A short, shitty show about cow dung (shitty), not really appreciating the latest Batman movie (shitty?) and auditioning for a big part that I have no expectation of actually landing (shitty).

I was thinking I wanted to take the kids to Universal Studios this Spring Break. It never happened.  I did, however, take a trip down memory lane and reminiced about Jaws Lake and the foam rock avalanche and The Six-Million Dollar Man’s spinning Sasquatsh tunnel.

Recently my wife lost all the contacts on her iPhone.  It was right after I removed an old email account from the phone so her co-workers and I would actually get her texts.  Of course, upon removing said account, or shortly thereafter, all of her contacts disappeard.  And, so did mine.  So, did my deleting the email account on the iPhone erase all her contacts, or was it some weird iPhone glitch that we both suffered from at about the same time?  Well, as you know, I’m married, so it was definetely all my fault…

Patent trolls are trying to extort money from successful podcasters.  I think it’s just horrible.  Luckily for me, I have nothing to worry about.  I have nothing to sue for.

I think I ate some bad pizza at Whole Farms.  Either bad pizza, or at least pizza that hates me.  I don’t know, maybe it was a virus, but I ended up spending last Thursday lying on the bathroom floor, naked, hoping to not pass away.

We went to a fancy gala and watched some of the moms do a dance.  A kinda sexy dance.  They did a great job, don’t get me wrong, I just felt like I shouldn’t be there.  Or at least I shouldn’t be visible.  Or, I shouldn’t be with my wife, I should be with a bachelor party doling out singles. I was so lost…

I had my first job interview since the early ’90’s.  At least that’s what it felt like.  I really wish I’d had a few practice interview before hand.  Well the interviewer asks, “So, what have you need up to lately?” I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to say, “Why, didn’t you read my resumé?”

Learn more about the SHIELD Act.

No new Pill this week, due to feeling like crap. I think it was something I ate. Hope to get the next episode recorded Monday. In the meantime, here’s one from June 2008, when I was getting kinda Buddha…

I’m trying desperately to tame the voices in my head, or at least recognize them for what they are: a constant, annoying distraction.

To find out more about Eckhart Tolle, I highly recommend listening to Oprah’s interviews with him from her XM radio show, which are available on iTunes as free downloads (collect all three, in audio or video form). Get them here.

I was faced with a moral dilemma: do I keep the things that fall into my lap (espeically since they would so perfectly fit my waist), or do I do the right thing, even though nobody is watching.  Or, is somebody watching?  Is the guy at my door looking for the thing that fell into my lap?  Why can’t people just leave me alone and stop throwing temptation at me?  Usually I am good at resisting temptation, but Todd Maplethorpe and I are exactly the same size.

My daughter danced during the half-time show at a professional basketball game held at an ice skating rink.  I know, it sounds strange, but it was.  Apparently, no matter how popular The Los Angeles Lakers are, nobody goes to see The D-Fenders, their minor league little brothers.  So, how do you double the size of the “crowd” at the D-Fenders game?  Invite the local dance companies to do the half-time show!  Genius!  The good thing is, they get a bigger crowd.  The bad thing is, the Laker Girls get out-danced by a bunch of 10 year olds…

In an effort to avoid having me hang our laundry all over the house, my wife bought us a drying rack.  In an effort to take a break from doing laundry, I agreed to take a photograph.  But, you don’t ever really take just one photograph, do you?  You take hundreds.  Then you get phone calls and e-mail and the next thing you know you’re an unpaid photographer-slash-tech support worker-slash-retoucher-slash-therapist.  Fantastic.

Let me know if you’d be interested in being on the The Bitterest Pill e-mail list.  I’m working on it now.

I’m pretty sure at my age I should be listening to something other than Adam Ant.  Maybe some Mumford & Sons or Bon Iver if I want to maintain some sort of urban guy cred.  But, no, I listen to Adam Ant.  Adam Ant and my son’s music.  Did you know that young people like to shop in thrift shops?  I remember that…

I like to watch 30 Rock, but my wife doesn’t, because my wife doesn’t need to see Tina Fey’s boobs.

I am lonley, and my listener/shrink seems to have disappeared.  So, I am left asking myself “How does that make me feel.” And, you know how that makes me feel?  Lonely.  Who is my one true friend?  Netflix.  Netflix and Floris.  And you.  Thanks.

A brand new Pill for 2013!  In this edition, we go to New York City to throw up in a taxi and then freeze at the 9/11 Memorial.  If I can give you some advice, please wait to go see the 9/11 Memorial until the temprature gets above freezing…

We ate, we ordered in, we saw Aldan Alda at lunch.  We saw The Life of Pi.  Twice.  Sort of.