It’s been awhile since I’ve liveblogged. The last time I did it was at a trade show. So I”m getting back into the habit.

The first thing I want to liveblog is the movie, “The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus.” I’ll be starting in a few minutes.

What Is Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus

I’m gonna find out here before long. Thanks to the obnoxious upsell process on Dish TV, I started the move 5 minutes late.

So far someone dropped off stage, slipped into a mud puddle, fumbled through a maze of drunken bottles, whirlwinded through a haze of mystical jellyfish before being dropped on the underside of a thumbtack and forced to choose between Dr. Parnassus’s enlightenment and Mr. Nick’s bar.

What happened after that?

“Will we miss him? I don’t think so.”

The current-day police seem confused.

It’s the mirror that means everything…takes one from a traveling side show Shakespearean tent called “The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus,” and into a candyland of surrealism. I’m suspecting it to be the real imaginaruim. And then a choice is made between good and evil…

“He’s come to collect.” – I think it to be the devil. (I didn’t know Verne Troyer was still alive).

And the plot is a-rolling. Trying not to give too much away, but the doctor’s young daughter is thinkin’ of running away but now Doctor Parnassus starts to tell the story.

Characters in Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus:

• Doctor Parnassus – Christopher Plummer
• Devil – Tom Waits
• Percy – Verne
• Valentina – Doctor Parnassus’ Daughter
• Anton – The teenager assistant who’s in love with the daughter

It’s gonna be about an old man retelling his youth. I can get on board with that…Nope, I lied.

Amazing special effects so far. Tapered with Buddhists realms here in the beginning.

Damn, Dish TV. I paused it for a phone call and it stopped it. Now Heath Ledger is here and I’m not sure who he is. Is it Dr. Parnassus?

Grrr. Nope, there’s Doctor Parnassus so it can’t be the guy.

Heath was hanging from a noose. But five minutes later he’s got the girls from the supermarket to come watch the show.

Talk about fumbling into brilliance, Ledger’s character wears a mask with a Pinocchio-lying nose half the tie.

Now the devil (Tom Waits) has bet the doctor on the first to five souls. I mean, who makes that bet?

The ‘mirror’ is becoming a metaphor.

But the Doctor’s backstory is becoming surreal. Stories with immortals often are.

If you can’t handle the gondola scene in Marry Poppins cut short by a heard of dead gurnsey cattle floating in the stream, then don’t watch this.

But for those like me, now I’m only interested.

Heath’s character, Tony, is a real-time hero. Flawed, passionate. And because the Doctor saved Tony’s life, Tony wants to return the favor.

“Do you believe in coincidence?” asked the Doctor.

And the traveling show has a Alice in Wonderland / Clockwork Orange sensation.

And Tony jumps into the imaginarium for the first time…and turns into Johnny Deep. Nice way transition the character.

And the healing begins

But Tony’s past returns and he jumps into the mirror and becomes…Jude Law.

Believe it or not he’s walking on air.

What’s with Russians and their nooses?

It’s cool that they don’t ignore the fact that different characters play Tony. The other characters don’t recognize him at first. It’s the burn marks that make the difference. And the “different faces” blends into the story line.

And Jude gets to be the actor that tells Tony’s backstory.

Wow, they’re fumbling into brilliance again…they must have done Ledger’s work before they did the special effects because Ledger’s actually been able to be in throughout the movie. Makes me want to watch “The Dark Knight,” again.

And here come Farrell’s part.

Given Farrell’s recent history, he’s the perfect person to play the part.

And, yeah, the end of this movie is the reason to see it.

And the end isn’t the end. I would have been mad were it.

How Was the Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus?

I’ve seen infinitely worse. But now as I watch the bit I missed in the beginning, I realize that, had I’d seen it the first time, the rest of the movie would have made much more sense…somewhat. It’s a bit surreal, a bit metaphysical, and just short of completely letting go which will lead some people to believe it to be “over the top.”

In fact I hope they do. I don’t always like to share treasures with everyone

Ledger plays a great role, once again.
Plummer, once again, plays a prototypical sage with mortal flaws that people have begun to take for granted.
Depp is suave.
Law was his mercurial self.
And Farrell was, well, Farrell.
And Tom Waits as the devil. It makes me want to listen to some of his tunes.

(note:  Amazon.com links are affiliate links)

I wanted to wake up before mid-afternoon ’cause that’s when it’ll hurt the most (- Duritz-ish).

And I blame facebook.

It started early in the week when my buddy, Tat, posted a few lines to an old(er) song as his update:

I dream I never know anyone at the party and I’m always the host.

The line flipped around between my ears like fragments from a dream, then turned into a film about my ghost (- Duritz-ish).

Knowing I couldn’t escape, I moved south down the coast of thoughts til the rest of the film played in my head (- Duritz-ish).

A long 7 seconds, indeed. But at the end, I remembered the title: “Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby,” by Counting Crows. From the 2000 album This Desert Life.

I never claimed to like Counting Crows.

Still don’t. Spending college and everything after addicted to blues and jam bands, I had trouble appreciating the Crows’ craftsmanship. ‘Always thought they could do infinitely more with 34 guitarists standing on stage and one guy who thought he didn’t have to sing his lyrics because Dylan didn’t. Bob, not Thomas.

But eventually, I accepted them as folk and they crept into my consciousness. Especially when I realized my dreams of bumming out in Spain (coast side) and fantasizing about Picasso’s old guitarist were shared with lead singer / songwriter Adam Duritz. And he’s probably done it now. Many, many times. I wonder if Mr. Jones snuck into my thoughts without me ever realizing it. God knows any friend I ever played guitar wanted to play that jam. Except Gag – I thank you for the break.

He’s just an idiot walking a tightrope between fortune and fame (Durvitz). The lazy fat f*ck. Durvitz, no Gag.

Pot. Kettle. Black.

About 17 seconds in I wrote back to Tat the line line about the dreams being like movies and before you knew it I’m off on Grooveshark playing the song again, and again, and again. And I posted the song on Facebook.

That’s when my once and future partner-in-crime, Slewis – not C.S. Lewis though that’d be cool too – commented her fervor to not only learn to play guitar but to play “Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby.” A quick search on Ultimate Guitar revealed all 4 chords involved and a little ditty involving the “A” chord. And a Capo. I hate Capos. Now I remember why I didn’t learn this song a decade ago.

But with all 4 chords and little “A” ditty, I already knew the song. It’s the lyrics that rival “American Pie,” in length that she’ll…we’ll have to remember.

Though I was a little pensive in saying “yes,” to teaching her this song. Extremely pensive.

When “Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby” came out, I felt a kinship to it. Like how the haunted is connected to their ghost. All the crazy late nights at the casino boat along the lake, the random road trips and the many concerts, waiting for Mrs. Potter to talk to me while trying to outrun her essence in case it all fell apart.

The price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings – Duritz

‘But can one change destiny?

I really think the legendary TV show, “Dr. Who,” has it right about life when the Doctor discusses time. He says that some moments in time are fixed and never can be changed whereas other moments are flexible and can be rewritten. I felt, when trying to get my Mrs. Potter’s attention, that that moment in time was flexible. I could change that. Whereas when I stopped playing guitar, time called me back.

Like last week my buddy from Atlanta scheduled time so we could play. And my finger strength is coming back around – like it was sleeping, resting, waiting. And now that Tat informed Slewis that I’m “really good” or something, the tingle that runs up and down my spine every time I see a guitar is back.

It helps keep me going.

As I write this, Slews chatted me and said she’s listening to the song. And I’m sure Tat is too as he addresses the painful leak in his newly-remodeled kitchen. The pains of domestication.

I’m listening to Mrs. Potters’ Lullaby right now, too.

Slewis – I’ll be ready when you are. I still have Gag’s Washburn sitting over there you can use to start. We’ll put nylon strings on it to start til you’re ready for some 80-20 strings (I’ll tell you what those are later). And…we’ll get a capo for it. Unless Tat still is offering you his. BUT NO PICKS! You can have finger picks (those little metal tips banjo players wear), but you’re not learning with a pick! Picks are for pu**ies.

It’s about time to pull Mrs. Potter down of that movie screen and get the Book of Blues prequel written.

The music video for Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby

Lyrics to Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby by Counting Crows – written by Adam Duritz

Well I woke in mid-afternoon cause that’s when it all hurts the most

I dream I never know anyone at the party and I’m always the host

If dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts

You can never escape, you can only move south down the coast

well, I am an idiot walking a tightrope of fortune and fame

I am an acrobat swinging trapezes through circles of flame

If you’ve never stared off in the distance, then your life is a shame

and though I’ll never forget your face,

sometimes i can’t remember my name

Hey Mrs. Potter don’t cry

Hey Mrs. Potter I know why but

Hey Mrs. Potter won’t you talk to me

Well, there’s a piece of Maria in every song that I sing

And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings

And there is always one last light to turn out and one last bell to ring

And the last one out of the circus has to lock up everything

Or the elephants will get out and forget to remember what you said

And the ghosts of the tilt-a-whirl will linger inside your head

And the ferris wheel junkies will spin there forever instead

When I see you a blanket of stars covers me in my bed

Hey Mrs. Potter don’t go

Hey Mrs. Potter I don’t know but

Hey Mrs. Potter won’t you talk to me

All the blue light reflections that color my mind when I sleep

And the lovesick rejections that accompany the company I keep

All the razor perceptions that cut just a little too deep

Hey I can bleed as well as anyone, but I need someone to help me sleep

So I throw my hand into the air and it swims in the beams

It’s just a brief interruption of the swirling dust sparkle jet stream

Well, I know I don’t know you and you’re probably not what you seem

But I’d sure like to find out

So why don’t you climb down off that movie screen

Hey Mrs. Potter don’t turn

Hey Mrs. Potter I burn for you

Hey Mrs. Potter won’t you talk to me

When the last king of Hollywood shatters his glass on the floor

and orders another

Well, I wonder what he did that for

That’s when I know that I have to get out cause I have been there before

So I gave up my seat at the bar and I head for the door

We drove out to the desert just to lie down beneath this bowl of stars

We stand up in the palace like it’s the last of the great pioneer town bars

We shout out these songs against the clang of electric guitars

You can see a million miles tonight

But you can’t get very far

Oh, you can see a million miles tonight

But you can’t get very far

Hey Mrs. Potter I won’t touch

Hey Mrs. Potter it’s not much but

Hey Mrs. Potter won’t you talk to me

(photo credits: 1&2 Eparist via Flickr. 3 – NM Jeep Tours via Flickr. Great shots, guys! And note: sci-fi is cool. Dr. Who is awesome. Jimi loved Sci-Fi. Need I justify more?)

Scheduling snafus, controversies, and an uphill battle were among the events encircling last night’s Northern Indiana Social events for those in Michiana. I would be less than honest if I didn’t confess that my thoughts on the drive up were with them.

My thoughts were also on that drive up US 12 along the National Lakeshore. Its been too long since I had a good sundown drive along the lake, listening to good live music. It’s the first time I drove that route, in that setting, in that car. But I’d a sworn the car knew every curve.

It put me in a Tweetup state of grace.

The first thing I heard when I got to the “It’s Vegas, Baby,” room was that the Michiana Tweetup was a success, and that a few of them made the drive over to be with us. Michelle Hillaert, Between the Buns Grill…wow. I was glad they hadn’t had their taste for Tweetups spoiled.

Always good to see Lacy. Rumor had it his Indiana SBDC presentation that morning went off without a hitch. And Daver was allowed to pitch the Tweetup during the session.

Fun, friends, foods…and though Blue Chip Casino no longer carries Gumballhead, it was good to be back for the evening.

As we say at NWITweetup regarding monthly meetups:

If it ain’t free, it ain’t for me. It’s the only way to be.

…with the exception of the occasional killer milk & honey events like Social Media Club.

How to Know When the next NWITweetup Is

• pay attention to the nwitweetup  / #nwitweetup conversation on twitter
• check back at NWITweetup.com, the source for Northwest Indiana Tweetups, Meetups, Mashups, and other Social Media networking events…

And now for your viewing entertainment

April 2010 NWITWeetup in pictures, through the eyes of my buddy, Tat .

Conclusion

What I hope the Michiana tweeps learned from the evening is that choices are plentiful. Nobody needs to get pigeonholed into any one particular event.

And they all can work together.

(photo credits:  Karl Tatgenhorst via Flickr)

So last time I wrote I talked about how difficult it can be writing on an ugly website.

I gathered the advice, and I’m going to make amends.

We’re setting the stage to take “How to Write a Book of Blues. Hopefully” into the direction we finally have the freedom of thought to take it: into a resource into the travels that shows our pains and providences of publishing said books of blues.

I started with the choice between Frugal Themes and Thesis. I went with Thesis. It was probably a case of “the Devil I don’t know.”

I like Frugal to a point. It takes Thesis to the next level of point & click and we use Frugal on NWITweetup.com, but I wanted to try something else.

We’ll see if and what Brogan and Falls sees in this.

At this point I have the layout as far as i can take it without having to use PHP hooks and learning Thesis more to make CSS changes. Below is a list of additional changes I’ll make.

Thesis DIYThemes issues

• Want to shrink my H1 font
• put ad right justified on header
• Resolve my Archive.org issue.

What’s my Archive.org issue?

Take, for example,  this concert on archive.org

Jack Johnson. Hawaii Theatre. Honolulu, HI. 2009/11/03. Great concert. Take a listen.

“What songs are on the concert?” you ask.

Great question. Welcome to my problem…

There’s an embed code to the concert. Start playing one of the tracks and the embed code to the entire concert becomes available. The trick is when you do embed the video, you only get the player itself. You don’t get the song list. The reason:

“NOTE: We are not able to offer a simple piece of HTML to show the playlist along with the player.”

I’m trying to find the simple piece of html so I can embed it – or whatever the issue is.

I’ve discovered the player Archive.org uses is Flowplayer

And I have found the forums but I can’t seem to put it all together.

Additional Website changes to “How to Publish a Book of Blues. Hopefully.”

• Put the page titles under the header
• Get the Featured Content hook working
• find a cleaner method of showing the social media contacts
• fix the spacing issue with the Tweetmeme Twitter RT button on the posts
• (and while I’m at it, get those sharing buttons to go vertical down the Right side of the post)
• style a footer
• add flickr stuff
• add cha cha widget
• add archive.org widget

and then it’s ready for the Head of Graphics at Golden Technologies to go to town on the styling. It’ll look very much like my twitter background. And I think we might turn it into a living evolution of the site..crashing waves in the winter…bleh bleh.

What changes would you do to my site? (with respect to the date this is written)

• For example, should I put the fan pics on the Facebook fan page or will that drop too much content below the fold?
• Should I go with that Twitter badge or go back to my old “Instant Chronicles?”
• Have you seen the way Mashable puts the sharing buttons left side just off the site? What do you think of that?
  

(photo credit: Slimmer Jimmer via Flickr)

It’s taken a couple days to get back into the groove back home. I’ve been gone four weeks and the world feels like it’s passed me by. Thus is the tempo of Internet marketing.

Therein it goes

I just finished working on wearing out my running shoes. And I just finished killing some ants at oldold man Finn’s summer place – when saving a jam basket, make sure it’s all cleaned out. Now comes the task of waiting for messages to be returned, compiling the to-do list, and reminding myself that the Book of Blues Prequel won’t write itself.

So long as I can stay busy, I can keep managing my winter blues…so I hope.

And another ant down. It’s a 33-degree day in The Region. Where the hell are they coming from?

(Looking forward to heading down towards the Tippecanoe River and take in a tweetup)

I’m actuallly trying to convince myself to go to bed early so I can get in a fair amount of client work before I head out to Lafayette, IN for their tweetup. I’m looking forward to the event. Not only am I looking to answer the question, “What do other tweetups do?” I’m also looking forward to listening to Douglas Karr speak.

If I can, I’m going to liveblog it for NWITweetup.com.

Doug is truly one of the great people in the industry. Not only does he do great work, but his work makes a difference. He’s helped Indy’s 2.0 industry grow. He’s helped companies and even competitors understand the business. His co-opetition philosophy has probably cost him some potential cash and clients and my fear is that some day, if he’s not careful, his generosity could result in him being the one in the local industry without a chair when the music stops.

But in the end, Douglas Karr helps make Indiana better.

And if he does get left without a chair, may the good Lord have mercy on the Indy 2.0 community. I’ve been itching for a Revolution. But, the community there is filled with great people so I doubt that will be the case. At least they better hope that’s not the case…

If you’re going to the LafayeTweetup tonight, let me know or come over and say, “hi.”

Speaking of Revolutions…

I’m actually jonesin’ for a good revolution. Halloween night at the Bean Cup triggered something in me, stirred something I thought died  – the will to fight for something worthwhile. It’s been awhile since my work efforts have gone to something that made life around me better.

I need a good fight.

Do you have a cause that needs an outspoken soul to pitch in and help? Let me know

(photo credit:  Marty Jones “Birds of Indiana” via Flickr)

A long back-end of 2009 came to a peaceful end. I’ll miss the production crew, but unless something magical happens the synergy in that office we’ll never go back to the way it was. At least not today and probably not tomorrow.

“I’ve seen the needle and the damage done,” - Neil Young.

I’ve been told I could be welcomed back as a contractor soon. I don’t know if they were sincere and I don’t know if I’d accept. I’m afraid I’ll be surrounded by ghosts of memories past and there’ll be too much space in that office for the memories to swirl around. Though I’m told the space is contracting. Watched too many tears shed and life is only supposed to go in one direction. But it was a good-faith gesture and for that I am thankful.

But I hope they turn it around. There are still good folks remaining amongst the survivors. And if the situation arises and bridges are mended, maybe I finish what I started.

Maybe.

As for me, I’m a free agent. My next 99 weeks ought to be an adventure. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll be allowed to sing off-key for awhile as well as find new audiences to perform in front of.

And when I have freedom, people to see, and projects to work on, that only means one thing:

She’s gonna be gettin’ a little work in.

I’ve got two trips planned before Ft. Myers, Margaritaville and I’ll probably start my retreat around Thanksgiving this year. Oldold man Finn is 84 and could use a driving companion. I just hope my car can stay at that slow a’speed .

And who knows what that trip couple bring.

Thank y’all so much for the support. I hadn’t had this much action on my facebook page, well, ever.

And there’s a good chance I’ll be seein’ y’all soon.

smoked turkey sandwich recreation

Before holing up for the 2009 Fall season in preparation for the great Ft. Myers, Margaritaville holiday season getaway, we decided this Saturday will be devoted to recreate the greatest experience in 2009 – a smoked turkey sandwich on pretzel bun from Three Floyd’s Brewery of Munster, IN.

I know, of all the tings we could have experienced in a year, how does a smoked turkey sandwich even compare? With trips to the City, Indianapolis, Seattle, Las Vegas, Provo, UT, and more trips pending, one would think that the experience would come from the traveling.

Not to mention the dining experiences. Finn’s eaten in a resplendent restaurant overlooking the Las Vegas Strip, a harbor restaurant north of Seattle with an incredible view of a bay that opens unabashed into the Pacific Ocean, a beachside dinner with a view of the Gulf of Mexico during sundown (though the green flash was missed again), and let’s not forget the places in the City (Chicago).

How does a Turkey Sandwich from a brewery compare?

For starters, when we were at Three Floyd’s we got to see the turkey get carried back from the grill, smoke still rising from the skin. Then, we had great high-end beers when we received the crafted sandwich. And the smoked turkey sandwiches were served on a fresh-made pretzel bun. Most importantly, the meal was served with good friends around.

So when we recreate the great smoked turkey sandwich, it was more than a meal.

It was an experience shared with good friends.

Not only that but the fact that a smoked turkey sandwich being considered as the most significant experience in a year is a great indicator that the year was a peaceful year. Boring? At times. Uneventful? Yep. Drama-free? So far. And given years past, stress-free is all a year has to be to be a great year.

The smoker has been running in Duneland since 11am. It should be ready in a few hours, around 7pm. Max’s Pretzel buns should be finished by then. Light showers are possible, but that’s why they invented Wiis – in case we can’t play Bags.

Come tomorrow, the work begins. I have blogging to catch up on, projects to tackle, goals to meet, and a holiday escape to plan.

Life sent me to Chicago this past weekend. A lifetime love had me, my sister, and part-Cassidy sharing good times while sitting in pampered club seats at a baseball game Saturday.

It started last Tuesday night when I was playing co-ed softball for the company. Being 40 lbs. overweight & 8 months from the gym away from playing the way I know I can didn’t keep my instincts from becoming heightened when the cooled humid sundown breeze kissed my face as I jogged onto the field. As if awakened from a coma, I remembered why I loved the game.

Spend enough time in an office without fresh outdoor air & the body starts to shut down. As if caved in hibernation, the body waits to get back outside and into the heart of a day.

I take walks at night, but when you spend most of your life being athletic n fiercely competitive, the body runs on minimum systems during even long walks.

But once I was out on the field, hearing the limestone crush under my spikes as that soft breeze whisked by me, my body slowly opened up an eye to look around an see what was going on.

The following Wednesday morning after the softball game, my athletic instincts remained alerted when my sister called, suggesting we go to a game while I’m up in the City. Her suggestion resonated with my instincts & I bought tickets within minutes.

The downside was that the Church of Baseball denomination I am a member of was in Colorado for the weekend, so we went to the other church because they were the one in town. But to make myself feel better I also made reservations for the next time my Baseball Mecca is in town.

And it was great, theraputic times. Once the Red Line stopped at our destination, my sister & I stepped out to see that part-Cassidy was in the car ahead if us. And the rest if the night was as harmonious.

From the newfound synergy between my sister & part-Cassidy to the Tamale Man finding us at Lottie’s as if he heard my sister’s calls, the night flowed together like an old Blues song. That’s what a Summer night in the City of Blues is like.

The only potential downside might be that my sister & part-Cassidy might have gotten spoiled by the club seats: air-conditioning, servers, lounges… And now that they’re FaceBook friends I probably won’t be able get away with that dig (or this one.)

As part-Cassidy just text me, I don’t want this summer to end.

the T.O. Show proves that everybody's dreams are different.

I spent most of my weekend within sight of a beautiful day.

I have a corner room and both windows were open. The breeze coming through the windows was as soothing and refreshing as I imagined it during last year’s cabin-fever winter.

At the time of this writing, The T.O. Show is on as I let the stress out. I was surfing and stopped when I saw him and his bodyguard moping about the home after on the day he was cut by the Cowboys. In that moment I could relax and relate with the self-centered jackass. His agony on the show probably lasted as long as his agony in real life – 3 minutes. Then he got signed by Buffalo for X-millions.

This is when I stop relating with him.

Not for the money, fame, press or stone hands in pressure moments, but because he’s on that side of his dream and I’m on this side of my dream. And even though he’s own the downward slope of his playing career, he’s living it and should be able to enjoy the fruits of his dream for a long, long time.

I also stopped relating with him because he packed to bags, bought a fancy house in LA and is now sleeping with the Realtor. At this point I’m starting to think this episode was shot in real time given the flurry of events.

And, T.O., before you let this score go to our head, you should realize that the Realtor played you. AND she got paid, again.

But I watched all the shit from my TV, again.

Time to get to sleep and catch up on my life.

Jesus – now they showed a minute of footage where T.O and his P.R. people ripped on the bodyguard for ripping ass in the brand new Bentley convertable…now he bought a $137, 000 pair of earrings…

This has got Corporate Whoredom written all over it!