Last night I had people over and we drank and ate and talked by the fire and then somehow I did an interpretive dance to "Girls" by Death in Vegas.

Today I woke up in supreme pain from that experience.

I gotta get in better shape.

Well, it's after midnight, and I suppose it's my birthday.

34 fucking years...

Here is my present to you, my readers. An absolutely ridiculous picture of myself. For all of you that think of me as an idiot bastard @#$$%%^&*^, this is for you.



I am the sad elf of eternal sunshine. Worship me my brethren!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm the Driver, I'm the Winner

A glorious day today, I tells ya. Woke up and drove out to the DMV and renewed my license, and it only took a half hour. A half hour--and that's with a written test (which I aced, by the way.) So I deliver good news unto the Plano facility: they were friendly and prompt and I had no problems at all. Pity the poor guy who found out he had to write a check for almost 400 bucks to our tumblin' Secretary of State.

"Oh, I don't have any checks."

"Well, just mail them off them."

"No, I don't have any checks. I don't have a checking account."

(Blank stare.) "Well, money order then."

(Blank stare.) Uhhhh...

So kids, remember: get yourself a checking account when you get a license.

Here endeth the lesson.

Had a nice workout at the gym, took down the tree (have to make room for my birthday bash tomorrow night, you see) and finally got to see the little Duder. He's a good-looking kid, I tell ya. Must have got it from his ma.

Topped off the day with some homemade chicken and noodles, courtesy of Mom (and homemade noodles from Gram and Bob.) Delicious stuff...

Still have much to do in preparation for Party #1. I think I shall make some mix CDs for the festivities. Last time the girls commandeered the stereo and I had to listen to the stuff that usually never gets played in my house.

Britney and her ilk.

But it makes the women happy, and isn't that what parties are about? Getting hot women to dance their ass off in your living room?

As reported earlier, one of the great institutions of Chicago is getting a makeover.

Marshall Field and Company will now be known as Macy's.

Department stores change all the time, I know, but it's the idea of one more uniquely-Chicago thing being usurped by NYC.

Click the picture above for an excellent article by Brian Hieggelke of NewCity Chicago. It features plenty of fascinating history about Field's (first department store to install an escalator!) and offers up a convincing case as to why it should remain Marshall Field's.

Here's a quick little description of one of the Christmas feasts I enjoyed this week:

Friday night I ate turkey and ham at the home of a man named Flippy.

There are these guys, you see. Well, maybe "guys" isn't the right term. I'm sure they would prefer goons.

These guys all used to hang out together in high school and ruled the tech arts department. They were also mercenaries who loaned their time and talents to Limelight's struggling tech needs. Over time, others from their clan (mostly their molls) joined Limelight's other departments, but the goons were first, and so they deserve that distinction.

Anyway, I told you that story so I could tell you this one. They're all grows up now, and wanted to have a big feast at their home, so they rounded up card tables (there is a very hidden inside joke in that phrase) and those that were willing to cook all day (props to the Veverka girls, while Flippy was at work) and instructed the guests to dress formal (more on that later.) They were even kind enough to invite me, as some sort of pater familias or something.

Later, at the party, I even received the honor of carving the bird.

Not because of any deference to my age or wisdom. It was more like this: "Hey Fauth, you know anything about carving up this fucker?"

The food was great, we had a little wine, played some scrabble, and I went on my way so that they could do whatever people in their early 20s do these days. I went home and put lights on my tree.

I'm proud of this gang. They're growing up nicely, even though some of them have struggled with what to do with their "grown-up" lives. But they'll figure it out; I have confidence in them.

Now, about this Mafia obsession....

Happy Boxing Day to my Canadian friends! Whatever you do on this day, I hope it kicks ass, holiday-style!



I got a video camera and I got that Bruce Springsteen box set and I got a new Beatle album for my wall (a bootleg!) and some CDs and some other cool stuff and I ate a lot and I've been staying up until 3 AM watching the Arrested Development DVDs the Drone gave me for Christmas.

And we found a nest in my tree while Dave looked for the pickle. The egg was added by me for atmosphere.

Today I have to do some last-minute shopping for some friends of mine and then I get another big meal. Christmas has been full of food and family and friends this year and what a wonderful thing that is...



But before I close this blog entry, and go back to celebrating good health with good company, we should pause and remember those that are no longer with us for this holiday season, mainly the victims of the tsunami disaster of last year, which happened a year ago today.

Those of us sitting at our computers reading our blogs and chatting about our gifts and telling funny stories about our family get-togethers are lucky, lucky people. We should remember that, and treasure the time we have with each other, and not let the small stuff ruin the larger connections.

Okay, that's enough soapboxing for me. Time to eat again!

No time to explain this one...

Merry Christmas to all of you out there in the glorious blogosphere! Here's hoping you get the Turkey Leg this year.

A Very Happy Birthday To My Little Sister!



Sorry we couldn't be there with you today, but we're all thinking of you and wishing you were with us.

Now I gotta go finish my Christmas shopping!

I'm off to Springfield to hang with the Drone for a day or so, so here's something to keep you occupied:



Caption this, would you?

And yes, that is the Pope.

My Elf Name is Crumpet

I never got around to talking about last Friday's show, mostly because I've been trying to decide whether it was a success or not.

Let's say it was a lovely disaster. We kept it very loose, and were only able to have one (more like a half) dress rehearsal at the auditorium where we performed. Many of the kids had not been there for it, and a band concert on Tuesday kicked us off of our rehearsal space for one of the other dress rehearsals.

So we were a little rough, but decided to soldier on anyway, hoping that it would be electric and fun to put on a show by the seat of our pants.

Well....we won't be doing that again.

We couldn't use our own crew, so the light cues were rough and the mikes never came on at the right time. One song was performed with no musical backing at all. The Grinch skit wandered all over the place and it took forever to get into my elf costume on stage.

Much of the show was written by the performers, with mixed success. I think some of the audience didn't know what the hell we were doing. (The Limelight Holiday Ape and The Unabomber were in one scene.)

Some skits were hilarious, some were a little shaky, but I wanted to put this show into other peoples' hands as much as possible, and let them learn some responsibility. Some people rose to the challenge, and some people had to be reminded what their jobs were.

In the end it's my job and my responsibility to make the show what it is, so if it was a little rough, it's my fault. It's just getting harder and harder to do a show during the school year, when too many other things compete for space in my head.

I was going to switch over to just-summer theatre, but I decided to do another one, but from now on I think I'll just stick to summer. I can devote myself completely to the program then, and turn out quality shows, even though no one ever comes to see them. (My Shakespeare is the Shit, but who wants to watch iambic pentameter performed by teens?)

And for those of you asking for video? Sorry. Our videographer (and third-act Santa) ran out of tape or battery or something, so there's no footage of The Santaland Diaries. It's copyrighted, so I wouldn't post it anyway; Mr. Sedaris deserves his royalties.

Strangely, there seem to be no pictures of my in that damn elf costume either. Pity. I looked ridiculous, the sight of which would have pleased many, I'm sure.

Since I doubt I will be nominated for an Anna (Tony Pierce's annual blog nominees) this year, I offer up the first of the Best of The State I'm In:

First up: Best Picture:



I took this in a Killarney pub this summer, after a long hike through gorgeous Irish landscape. I love the colors in this, the mix of the brown wood of the bar, and the green in the background, and the remembrance of a lovely, half-finished pint of Guinness. A day doesn't pass where I don't think about going back to that place, again and again and again.

Runner-up: one of the bridges in Indiana covered bridge country.




I'm being self-consciously arty here, with the sepia setting and the image of a thing long past, but it all came together well.

I don't think I wrote anything necessarily great this year, but I'll dig through the archives and see what I can come up with for Best Post of the Year.

MP3Search.ru

Is this site for real? 10 cents per song?

Any feedback on this before I fork over my credit card info and go shit-ass crazy on music purchases?

Your 2005 Song Is

Beverly Hills by Weezer "My automobile is a piece of crap My fashion sense is a little whack And my friends are just as screwy as me" You breezed through 2005 in your own funky style!

What Hit Song of 2005 Are You?

Love the Weezer, hated that song.

The only way this makes sense is the fact that Rivers seems to be having about as much sex as I am lately.

If the old adage, Bad Dress Rehearsal = Great Show, then tomorrow's show will be the greatest thing ever.

It's very hard to do a Limelight show during the school year, as I work a 40-hour week and direct a show, while the actors go to school and do their school plays and Speech Team and jobs and Choir/Band concerts.

But it was a lot of fun all the same, and Limelight is still that place where I can be creative and different and be around some great people.

I don't like running reruns, but since the holidays are in full swing right now, and people are once again fanning the flames of the "Happy Holidays" or "Merry Christmas"? debate, I thought I would run a post I wrote almost a year ago.


Kathleen Parker has a great column about the return of "Merry Christmas" as a popular salutation for this time of year. (Tribune columnist Eric Zorn also has a great series of columns about a similar topic.)

It's been gone for a while, you know, replaced by the safer and non-offensive "Happy Holidays" or "Season's Greetings."

Now, even though I was raised Lutheran, served as a pre-teen acolyte, went to Luther League, taught Sunday School for a bit in college, served as an assistant Pastor or whatever that's called, I don't go to church anymore.

I'm kind of in the Christian alumni club.

A big reason is that the fundamentalists out there kind of ruined it for me, but I'm not going to get into that whole religion thing right now. I just don't get into going to church anymore. And I never go to Christmas services, either. I feel like that's being disrespectful to the church. I feel like I should go regularly, or not go at all. Me showing up on just Christmas Eve or Easter is being hypocritical.
So I'm the perfect person to agree that people shouldn't have these big Christian holidays shoved down the non-believers' throats. If I was Jewish, or Hindu, or Muslim, I guess I would get sick of Christmas Christmas Christmas everywhere.
I would most likely be one of these liberal, PC guys who thinks we should say "Happy Holidays" out of respect for the other holidays and religions that are out there.

Except I hate saying Happy Holidays. I like Merry Christmas better.

I love saying "Merry Christmas" to people. It makes me feel good, and when I say that, I'm wishing them good cheer and all that stuff.

I'm not wishing them "Enjoy this day where our saviour was born, may his grace and peace be with you always." That sounds nice, but I'm not religious enough to mean that when I say it.

When I tell you "Merry Christmas" I'm hoping that you have a day where you get to be with your family, eat lots of good food, sit by a fire, and enjoy watching people open the gifts you bought them.

I hope you get together with friends from far away and that when you walk in from the cold the house is warm and bright and there is someone to hug when you walk through the door.

I hope you enjoy some time off from work. I hope you use that time to think about the year that has gone by and what your hopes are for the next year.

I hope you enjoy all the great movies that come out this time of year.

I hope you have a night where your family all sits around the kitchen table, drinks beer and eats lots of fatty snacks and tells funny stories about people that are there and remembers the people that aren't there anymore, or are far away.

That's what I mean when I say "Merry Christmas" to people. When I say it it has pretty much nothing to do with what religion you are, or what God is, or what a woman should do with her body. But it has everything to do with what all those religions out there are trying to say:

Peace on Earth, Good Will towards Men.

It seems that every girl I glance at these days wants me to fall in love with her.

And they all wear this interesting shade of green. This explosive green that jumps out at you and grabs your attention. K had a scarf in that color, if I remember.

I was walking into Marshall Field's on State Street on Saturday and there was this girl with auburn hair and a neon green corduroy jacket who was talking to someone and suddenly I wanted to know everything about her.

Today a girl jokingly asked to be my roommate and for a split second I almost said, "sure why not?"

Smart women who write well and take great pictures of themselves flash across my computer screen as I scroll through my blog reads and my Buzznet friends.

And "Age of Consent" by New Order* plays in my head over and over as I reenact all of these events in my head.

*Seriously, why didn't I get into this band when I was a kid? Man I was such a loser. That song is on the trailer for the new Sofia Coppola movie Marie Antoinette and it just floored me.

Recently I realized that I will die someday.

Of course we're all going to die someday, but I have this dark and depressing feeling that I may not grow to be an old man. Maybe cancer will get me, or the bird flu, or maybe I'll die in the first wave of attacks from the Robot Holocaust.

So when I realized that sad fact I decided to buy a couple of tickets to see The Pogues in Times Square next Paddy's Day.

A buddy of mine jumped at the chance to take a quick road trip to the Big Apple, so I'll be traveling from Chicago to New York and back again over a Thursday to Sunday spread. Concert's Saturday night, so I'll have Friday night to see the world's biggest city.

I've been to London, Paris, Boston and (my personal favorite) Galway, Ireland, but never New York.

I wish I was there this Thursday to hang with Bicyclemark and Ms. Thingk, but duty calls.

When I do journey to the First City I hope to meet some fellow bloggers, but that's a long way off.

For now the chance to hear "Fairytale in New York" in New York keeps me warm at night.

And the knowledge that I'm living the life I want to live right now, in case the nanobytes infect my system and turn me into an unstoppable cyborg killing machine.

No posts this weekend, and no good one today. I spent the weekend being Uncle Brian, wandering the Chicago streets with my family (and a short break of my own over to a wintery Millenium Park.)

Then yesterday I bought a gigantic tree for my house and spent several hours trying to get it to stay upright. My arms have cuts and scrapes all over them and there are needles and pine branches everywhere, but I finally got the 9-foot Scotch Pine settled.

And then the lights wouldn't work right.

Thankfully I at least found two Santa suits for this weekend's show. So I can cross that off the list.

I am still lacking one sleigh, however...

Lots of pictures at the Buzznet site. Just click one of them to the left (unless you are at work and your employer's network doesn't allow Buzznet, which then means you're missing out.)

(And if anyone really cares, I added a final thought to the Narnia arguments from last Friday.)

I also thought of a good title for a movie review of Brokeback Mountain: "Cowboy Up the Ass."

Aslan Is On The Movie Screen


You may find this surprising, given my love for The Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter, but I'm not a big fan of the ole Chronicles of Narnia.

I never read them when I was a kid, and once I started flipping through them as an adult, I wasn't very impressed.

Why, do you ask? I agree with my dear Professor Tolkien on this matter. Salon can sum it up better than I can:

Tolkien's chief objections, however, were those of a craftsman. He considered "The Lord of the Rings" a Christian work, but its religious themes were carefully buried in the story. (Even die-hard Lewis fans may be tempted to groan when, in the first Narnia book, Aslan sacrifices himself to redeem the human children.) Tolkien presented Middle-earth as a sort of prehistoric Europe, employing elements from the Icelandic sagas, "Beowulf" and the Finnish "Kalevala" as though they were half-understood memories of the events described in "The Lord of the Rings." But Tolkien's systematic approach used folklore from northern Europe. The Narnia book, in which the Germanic figure of Santa Claus rubbed elbows with Greco-Roman divinities, struck him as simply lazy and undisciplined.

As soon as I saw Sinter Klaas show up to deliver weapons to the four kids in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, I tuned out. Middle-Earth may be populated by dwarves, elves, and other fanciful creations, but it all feels real. Tolkien did his homework and gave his world an inner consistency that never falters. We may not believe in Rings of Power or pipeweed-smoking Hobbits, but as you read the book, or watch Peter Jackson's stellar films, you at least never stop and think, "Oh come on now, give me a fucking break."

Narnia just seems too juvenile, too sloppy to interest me for any long stretch. (And to the books' defense, I have only read two of the series, so perhaps I should give it the full read to fully judge it. They don't prattle on and on about Turkish Delight in Prince Caspian, do they?)

When the first film of Lewis's seven-part series opens tomorrow, we'll see what America thinks. People looking for the next big event movie will line up to see it, and it'll do pretty well, but I think once the beavers start talking, and St. Nick starts passing out the bows and swords, people may look at each other and shake their heads and say "what the hell is this crazy shit?"

Since there was no new Lost tonight (again with the TV!) I decided to go back to work and rearrange my office. I'm trying to devote myself to work as much as possible, much like couples try and salvage a marriage that they know is on the downward spiral.

My bloglines are at 108 NOT READ. (Hmm, that's an interesting Lost reference, isn't it?) I have been a poor person at commenting this week, but duty calls. Plus, I'll have plenty of time to catch up in another week or so. I won't be taking my yearly visit to Florida this December to see my sister and her brood; she's coming up here this weekend instead, so expect pictures of the city and the windows at Marshall Field's and lots of cute kids freezing their asses off. Good thing they're leaving Florida; they need to toughen up and learn what winter's all about!

Speaking of winter, it's 0 degrees out right now and I feel fine. The cold hasn't been bothering me at all; on the contrary, it actually wakes me up and gets me in a decent mood.

That's kind of fucked up, I know. But here's one good thing about losing one's hair; you can wear a hat as often as you want and not worry about the dreaded "hat head."

One final addendum to a recent post: here's another great site to visit: Sound Opinions, a radio show hosted by two of Chicago's local music critics. Available as a podcast,by the way.

Say what you will about music critics, but these guys are pretty entertaining to listen to. Plus, it's another great example of the fantastic free radio we get in Chicago. The public radio station is the best in the country, home of This American Life and the non-annoying radio quiz show, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me.

Ahh Jim and Pam...

You crazy kids. Will you ever find true love?

Or will NBC find a way to totally ruin the incredibly sweet and heart-breaking storyline you guys have going right now.

Please don't make them the next Ross and Rachel. I want to actually care about these two characters.

I heart Jenna Fischer.

I may not be very good about posting for the next week or so. It's getting to be crunch time on the Santaland show, plus I'm trying to get caught up at work after taking off about 85 days in a row.

So instead, here are some good websites to go to:

Like music? Go read Pitchfork Media.

Want to listen to a classic Chicago DJ? Listen to Steve Dahl here. Speaking of good radio, if you have never listened to This American Life, you need to start now.

if you feel the need to waste hours of your life, just head over to Television Without Pity and read the recaps and/or the boards. It takes watching shows like Lost to a whole new level. "WAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLT!"

And of course, a few recommended blogs: Bicyclemark, always, plus a rejuvinated Fencepost. One of my favorite Fighting Illini's has rediscovered her inner blogger. Plus she lays down the shit like no one else. And that is one kick-ass picture of her.

Go tell the Drone to put down the Xbox and start posting more.

And finally, don't forget about Butcher freezing his gonads off in Nome, Alaska right now. What a crazy fucker.

UPDATED!!! Thanks to This Day in History at Encyclopedia Brittanica's website, I just leared that in 1484 Pope Innocent blah blah blah condemned witchcraft, thereby setting in motion events that would eventually lead to parents bitching about the evil, destructive influences of one of the best-written series of books of the last ten years.

Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyfuckingshit!!!!

There are tickets available to see the reunited Pogues (with Shane MacGowan) live, in New York City, on St. Patrick's Day of next year.

Seriously, who wants to go? Don't let me down people.

I gotta think about this. Tickets went on sale today. I'd have to fly to NYC. Hmm, never been there.

It's a lot of money.

It's better than trying to see them in Dublin on the 23rd of this month.

I may just try and do this. I'll wait until tomorrow to decide for real.

The fucking Pogues, man. My favorite band of all time.

The Limelight Holiday Bonanza
December 16, 2005
Oswego East High School Auditorium
7:00 P.M.

Limelight's first show to include Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, tuberculosis, and Phoebe Cates' legendary This-is-why-I-don't-believe-in-Santa-anymore speech from Gremlins.

I also star as a 33-year old effeminate Macy's Santaland elf in our adaptation of David Sedaris' The Santaland Diaries.

This colorful bag may also appear. You should come see it. It shall be entertaining and memorable.

Plus the auditorium at East kicks ass. We're big-time now.