Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Concerning interviews, magic, bands of merit, and a foreign discussion of the iconography of marshmellows

It turns out I'm bad at interviews. This dawned on me yesterday when, post-practice, we scampered to do an interview for a local podcast and twenty minutes in, there I am, talking about how many own Dream Theatre albums I once owned while Peter shakes his head in righteous dismay. A couple months ago we did another interview where I spent the entire time talking about my plan to become a wizard at the age of sixty-five. I'm also fond of using wild arm motions, which translate oh so well on tape. It's sad, really. I think we're about three away from the other guys locking me in the car with a window cracked like some puppy who can't stop shitting on other people's couches.

And no: the rest of the Birdmonster really doesn't care. They're happy to indulge my idiotic rantings since, well, we're all prone to our own special brand of idiotic ranting. Speaking of which...

Wizards. See, I've got this plan; what happens is this: I'm about fifty years old, Birdmonster is well into that "you probably shouldn't be touring anymore" age-bracket (unless we get all Jimmy Buffett on you, which, I can assure you, we won't), and I've got nothing much to do. So, I stop shaving. And cutting my hair. Now, I do that for about fifteen years---and by "that," I mean, essentially, nothing but hygenic laziness---and by the time my AARP membership arrives, I'll have a chest-length beard and a white mane down to my ass, which I'll then take to Hollywood and try out for every movie with wizards being made for the next twenty years. How much competition could there really be? How many wizened old men will really try out for the next C-level fantasy movie? Can you think of anything wrong with this plan? No. Didn't think so.

(Added bonus: floppy pajama hats. And dunce caps with stars on them. Infintely better than your typical headwear.)

A couple things to mull over today: 1) Gasoline Hobo, whose comments in this space often make my afternoon, speculated and engaged his readers in a discussion of cross-marketed cereal marshmellows. It's worth your time. 2) Dark Side of the Cop, our erstwhile studiomates and all around fine human beings (who once loaned me an amp I couldn't make work properly) are releasing their full-length at the Hotel Utah tomorrow night. I'll be there. You should know that the band and the CD of the same name are losely based on the comedic epic Beverly Hills Cop, and, as the name alludes to, I think you can do a Dark Side of the Moon/Wizard of Oz thing while you listen & watch. Know that hallucinagens are not a necessity to do so. 3) It's Hojo's birthday. Happy Birthday Hojo.

10 comments:

Gasoline Hobo said...

interviews: if you're not careful, i'll sneak up on you and interview you when you're in my part of the state. i've done it before. you've been warned.

not to brag or anything, but i'm already an AARP member. i don't know exactly how it happened, but i get crap from them all the time. my theory is that my first name (which i do not go by) can really only be pulled off by someone over the age of 83. my other theory involves gnomes, and i'm still working on it.

a wizard is a good thing to be. a better thing to be: SPACE WIZARD.

thanks for the "shout out", yo! everyone should visit my site and engage in marshmallow speculation.

birdmonster said...

Oh, oh, hobo. Don't think I won't be hastling you come, say August 15th-ish, when we're in Southern California. Don't you dare. And that was one of the strangest interviews I've ever read. Makes me feel less crazy. Throughly less crazy.

The shout out was well deservededededed. You are one of my daily stops in my battle against working for money. Game. Set. Match: Not working for money.

Gasoline Hobo said...

you are welcome to hassle.

i'm glad you liked the interview. the strangeness is probably the result of the things i've imbibed over the years. i AM a hobo, you know. some of the things i've drunk weren't even liquids.

birdmonster said...

Like what? Thumbtacks? Brads? Other small metal fasteners? Perhaps steak. I drank a steak once. Couldn't sit down for a week.

Dahlgren's Daddy said...

It's "marshmallows" not "marshmellows", though you could probably subit this to the famous Washington Post contest where you change one letter in a common word to create an alternate meaning. Let's see, a "marshmellow" might be defined as a contemplative stoner swamp dweller.

And this wizard shit...you're scaring me here.

Gasoline Hobo said...

sawdust. concrete. half of a cat. most of a bucket.

the closest i ever got to a small metal fastener was when i had lunch with dokken's seamstress in the spring of '86. and by lunch, i mean that i threw up on her.

birdmonster said...

DD: I knew that looked wrong. Good call on the Post thing. I just might do that...but, let's be honest. No I won't.

As for the wizard plan (hereby called The Wizard Plan, since it's that important): What's not to love? Ian McKellan was Gandolf, and he's knighted. Fine footsteps to follow in, I do say. Plus, real beards trump fake beards and, as we all know, acting is based on facial hair, not years of theatrical training.

birdmonster said...

Dokken is Rockin'. I don't know what else to add.

chikunjen said...

you can get an AARP membership at 50. Changes the entire plan my friend.

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