I divide the world again... with my hair

I get countless (about six) emails a year about my hair. It seems to be of concern to many of you (six a year). Some love it and some insist that I cut it. And to those six people (two are my parents and one is my sister) I dedicate this vlog. And then some don't say anything until I decide to cut it and then say, "It's about time." They're content letting me walk around looking stupid in their opinion. Good friends.

So... here is a vlog about my hair and why I'm getting it cut. I really enjoy shooting and editing these videos... and YES it is JUST ME and a camera... no one is shooting or helping me. Including while I drive. Which I better cut out for safety reasons and because on July 1st it will be illegal to drive and talk on a cell phone without a headset.. which means it will certainly be illegal to drive and shoot a video blog. And you know they will be on the lookout heavily starting July 1st.

Now, what I was trying to get into a moment ago was the self absorbed-ness of it all-- I feel that way a lot of the time when I shoot and post these... but many people seem to be really enjoying them... I'll do a vlog about that soon.

Enjoy my haircut, I look normal.

NYC vlog #3: June 25, 2008

Here is my final blog about my trip to NYC... well I have one more of me heading home to edit. I have 3 more to edit as matter of fact... so stay tuned. I greatly shortened this one-- I had all these clips of me running around from club to club, but it started to feel a bit self congratulatory. So I just put together some of my musings and amusing observations. Here is some more of me bumping into the world.

NYC vlog #2: June 20, 2008

More adventures in the city. I shot a blog and it all got deleted on my camcorder. I am off to find a NEW coffee shop. Enjoy.

NYC vlog #1: June 17, 2008

Here is my horrendous flight detailed and my first morning back in NYC back in the old-- neighborhood captured on tape. Caught my old doorman and mailman and of course Gay Al. That is what everybody calls him. He has been a fixture on the block FOREVER and lives in a rent controlled place for like $45 a month. And you have to be very gay in the west village to be the one on the block they call GAY. (That's what Vinnie the mailman tells me.) Off to explore the city.

What a Wonderful World remix

I am really hoping this is my last singing video. I hope I have gotten it all out of my system. (As do I suspect many of you.) This is basically an extension of a “Grand Old F**k”-- I recycled many of the same themes. What can I say, little has changed in the past few weeks—and I felt like singing again. Lately I’ve been working on my next Tonight Show and this mirrors many of the themes. Hopefully once I make that appearance, it will represent the final purge. I’m not a big fan of the F word—but in “Grand Old F**K” I was using it as a mechanism to grab people’s attention and then hit them with something perspicacious.

I took the two verse “What a Wonderful World” and made it six verses. It would’ve taken my fifteen more verses to say everything I wanted to say. As is, it already seems a few verses too long. The world is really NOT that bad, but it does seem a bit dismal these days. And I certainly feel when I was younger life was more innocent. We were naïve and ignorant—as youth should be. We discovered through experiences, many failed experiences, and not by googling.

We did not have this sense of entitlement. In “What a Wonderful World remix” I briefly comment on an aspect of contemporary life that boils me—the hurtful comments people make on message boards, blogs, and under my videos; I have fifteen year old kids criticizing my work—like they’re some sort of expert. A fifteen year old who’s greatest accomplishment is probably emptying the dishwasher telling me what I’m doing wrong? When I was a kid we had to take responsibility for our words. We didn’t have the internet— the space-- we had to say it face to face. And get punched. But zero accountability seems to be the trend. Not that fifteen year olds don’t deserve an opinion, but maybe they should accomplish something or put themselves out there in such a capacity and then express it. In other words, it’s OK to NOT say something too. What I am trying to say is, at least have a prom rejection under your belt before you write BLEH under my videos. The anonymous, drive by, hurling of insults has become a revered form of expression that I think will have later consequences for them in life… or at least I can hope so. I like justice. Careless opinions will get you no place fast—and the internet is habit forming. You can’t go through life just expecting to say whatever you want. The bigger problem created by the internet, kids start to think that their opinion even matters. Most of the time—OUR opinions DO not matter. WE are NOT supposed to know what everybody thinks about us!

Plenty of adults write hurtful things too—and often it seems to come from a sad place. I see plenty of individuals doing things I am not fond of, but I don’t feel the need to express it to them. Why are we trying to be so hurtful everybody?

I have been VERY fortunate lately—most of the time, people leave my stuff alone. That is the way I like it! If you don’t care for what I do—I don’t really care. So keep that in mind when you seek revenge for your own emptiness with the taps of a keyboard. I can also handle criticism, I have been a victim of plenty of it in the past. Through the years I have developed the temperament to cope with it. But in high school, I would’ve been a wreck if the internet was around and ADULTS were designing sites for kids to go on and defame each other. Honestly, I am more worried about this dark side of humanity than the high gas prices.

I create these videos for my friends and those that have continued to support me—the many that have reached out to me and encouraged. Enjoy them. These are not intended for the masses. So please share them quietly with those of like values and sensibilities. How the hell did I get off on this tangent… I sat down to write that I hope this is my last singing video and I started typing typing typing…??? COME ON O!

Want to lift your spirits? Watch the original Louis Armstrong version—I watched it about ten times to tried and mimic his non stop ear to ear smile. In two minutes, he smiles more than I have in all of 08. That is a gross exaggeration. But certainly more than January and February. I wanted to get a trumpet, hold it, and NOT play it like Louis did—but it seemed like too much work and then some fifteen year old buffoontard would slam me for it anyway… “bleh the trumpet… I want my four minutes back.” (Oh how original.)

Watch this guy and smile-- the world should be this way!

I got stuck in a belt yesterday

I got stuck in a belt yesterday. I was in a trendy store that I felt out of place in and... are you supposed to try the belt on before you buy it? I never see people trying them on and they don't let you take them into the dressing room. I always say the same thing when they tell me that, "Then how am I supposed to steal it?" And it NEVER gets a laugh. But it's one of those jokes I like to tell to amuse myself. Another one-- I tell woman I have the same purse-- never gets a laugh either-- but it's for me. This belt was some sort of cloth belt with a toothy clasp that in an odd way secured the cloth. Or rather, locked it down and I couldn't find the releasing mechanism. I have the old version of a clothy belt with a toothy clasp as pictured above.

Well, I just wanted a general idea of how big the belt was so I tried it on over my shirt like a girl in a Cyndee Lauper video. (Ignoring the ONE SIZE FITS ALL tag-- not buying into that! There is NO way one belt can fit every sized person!) Then the clothy thing wouln't unclasp. I was stuck. I panicked. My hands scrambling to find a release button or something. I felt claustrophobic. I was in the middle of the store-- the trendy store-- and I was pretty sure I didn't have the right sneakers on (I bought them 6 months ago). I imagined people looking at me thinking, "This uncool guy can't figure out how to get the new hip belt off." It felt like forever before I just yanked as hard as I could and broke the stupid trendy belt. And put it right back on the rack. I left humiliated. Deflated. And feeling uncooler than usual. But WHY ARE WE TRYING TO REINVENT THE BELT?

I got stuck in a bra once too...