Now that's a dessert!

Sherry holds a nutrition/weight loss class at our home on Wednesday nights. I usually sequester myself in my home office, and eavesdrop a little bit whilst consuming my frozen pizza. Sherry would kill me if she even knew I was considering the following "destination dessert" served at Le Pigeon (Portland, OR). Now if I can convince my doctor that I need to bring my cholesterol levels up a skosh:

"Young Turk chef Cabriel Rucker begins with a philosophy: desserts shouldn't be too sweet, and a few unexpected savory notes wouldn't hurt a bit. His corn bread, mixed with minced apricots, has a soft cakey crumble. The ample block arrives with creamy maple ice cream, all hit with little cubes of warm, salty bacon to get the melting process - and the adventure - going. All this, plus maple syrup drizzles plumped with bacon fat".

Yummy, I can almost feel the fat just sliding right into my cells with nary a word of introduction.

In Memorium: Mike Phillips

We have some good friends - Gene, Darryll Lynn, and Chelsea Phillips. For years I have been regaled with stories about Gene and his brothers, Jeff and Mike. They (Mike especially) have truly set the bar with some of the best practical jokes I've ever heard.

Mike had cancer, and passed away on October 16, 2006. Sherry and I only spent a little time with him, but even in his suffering he was a fun, likeable guy. Sherry loved him from the first time she met him.

Mike wanted to have his memorial service in Gene & Darryll's home, and I was privileged to attend. I knew Mike was big in radio, but I didn't know just what kind of an impact and influence he had. The service was attended by local radio personalities such as Tom Parker and Craig Walker. The room was filled with the rich deep voices of on-air personalities. A polycom was set up, and callers dialed in from Los Angeles, Hollywood, San Francisco and Seattle where Mike had made his mark. Pictures from his life had been put up on a wall, one was with Mike and Little Richard.

I felt a little bit out of place, kind of an outsider in the tightly knit group. The room was filled with industry lingo - like "air check" - apparently a critique of a jock's (for disk jockey) show, and "PD" for program director. The group recounted wonderful memories and anecdotes from a humble man who had risen through the ranks to become the vice president of NBC's FM radio programs. But Mike had invested much of his considerable talent to helping other people advance in their careers, it was never about him.

One of the funny anecdotes was how he had created a bowling game, where callers would dial in and guess how many of the pins had been dropped. Mike, the station manager and a sound technician went to a bowling alley and began to bowl. Mike told the sound tech that for the best effect, he would have to chase the ball down the alley whilst holding a microphone close the ball, skidding to a stop just before the ball crashed into the pins. Then, Mike said the tech would have to chase the ball for each combination of the ten pins dropping, for example a 3-pin drop, a 4-pin drop etc. He really didn't have to do that, Mike was just having fun watching the poor guy running up and down the alley!

Another time Mike printed off coupons for a restaurant, went in and gave every person dining a coupon for their meals. He was truly a funny guy who loved life, family and friends. Mike also was a Christian, and although he never engaged in 'Bible thumping" his faith was evident and clear to his friends.

If you would like, you can read about him here and here. You'll be glad you heard about a giant who was gentle, a man who left a mark on radio but more importantly left a mark on many people's hearts. I know you are with God and the angels now Mike, and I'm glad to have met you.

Book Review - The Book of Lost Things

The Sunday Oregonian of 10/15 had an article wherein two frightened Forest Service employees were so spooked by the sound of howling wolves that they radioed for a helicopter evacuation from the Sawtooth Wilderness in Utah last month. Although the wolves made no aggressive moves toward the pair and there are no documented cases of wolves attacking humans a helicopter was dispatched to retrive them. Steve Nadeau, wolf program supervisor with the Idaho Department of Fish & Game said of the incident:

"Holy moly - sounds to me like someone's read too many of Grimm's Fairy Tales."

Well, that's a good tag line of what the book is about. Author John Connolly gives us a kind of Grimm's Fairy Tales meets the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I'll admit that the reason I read the book is that I have 3 things in common with the protagonist:

1. We both share the name David
2. We both are afflicted with some sort of seizures (unclearly defined in the book).
3. We both love to read.
   

How can you not like a kid that enjoys dactyl iambic or elegiac pentameters? Set in England in the days of World War II, the book begins with the death of his mother and his father's eventual remarriage impacted David greatly. Clashes quickly ensued with David's new stepmother as they sold their home and moved in with her.

Prior to the remarriage and move strange events began to happen to David. His mother's favorite books, fictional stories of "knights and soldiers, of dragons and sea beasts, folk tales and fairy tales" took an anthropomorphic qualities as they began to talk to him, "softly at first and then louder and more compellingly." Those events then led to another:

"That was when the trouble started. That was when the bad things came. That was when the Crooked Man began to appear to David."

Right from the start, the malignant entity David called the Crooked Man began his troubling stalking and evil influence upon David. A terrifying crash of a shot down Nazi bomber thrust David into another world, an alternate reality; where the fairy tales and his mother's books were now invested with life.

Like much fiction the book borrows from Christian themes, but clearly does not seem to advocate Christianity. There is the Woodsman, a type of Christ. There is the Crooked Man, a type of Satan. There are the wolf/man hybrids, a type of demons.

The wolf-man hybrids constantly stalk and threaten other creatures in the alternate world that David now finds himself a part of. Classic satanic temptations are proffered:

"...give him (David) to us and we will offer him the protection of the pack. But the wolf-man's eyes gave the lie to it's words, for everything about them spoke of hunger and want"

This imagery could have been lifted right from Genesis 4:7 where God, speaking to Cain; says that "...sin is crouching at the door:, and its desire is for you...". The Hebrew word for desire in that passage is a word picture of a salivating, barely restrained savage beast with its fangs bared and muscles in tension ready to spring upon its prey and rip it to shreds.

Another Biblical allusion is found in the revealed belief of the "...Crooked Man that whatever evil lay in men was there from the moment of their conception." and "No one can make you do evil. You had evil inside you, and you indulged it." An echo of Romans 5:12 is heard: "Therefore, just as through one man (Adam) sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned...".

The book discloses some of the great questions of Christianity that are difficult to answer. In reference to his mother's death David thinks of "...listening to the priest talking of God and how much He loved His people. He (David) had found it to equate the priest's God with the one who had left his mother to die slowly and painfully."

I'll admit that I became a bit bored as David's journey in the latter part flatlined for me, and I was tempted to give it a grade of D+. Although there was some interesting imagery presented I began to lose interest However, I was pleasantly pleased with the ending and some of the twists, and how the ending tied the whole tale together. Although not a great book, it became a good book. I struggled a little with vacillating between a C to a B, here's my conclusion:

Final Grade: B minus.

Lights - Camera - ACTION! - Part Four

They're here, they're there, they're everywhere. It's difficult living this life. Just this morning as I was leaving for work in the pre-dawn I saw movement in the shadows, then like popcorn bursting out of it's microwave bag, the light of flashbulbs lit up the day.

Paparrazi. Those camera-wielding, arrogant, rude, prying, meddlesome miscreants - oh, the price my neighbors pay. Not me, it's all part of the daily ritual now. But it does make me feel bad for my neighbors, friends and co-workers. Like mosquitoes to blood, I cannot get away from them. Pushing, shoving, shushing and non-loving I elbowed my way through the crowd to my awaiting limo. Settling and sighing into the plush heated leather seats, my driver greeted me with a Starbucks venti no whip non fat extra hot raspberry mocha and off we went to a day in the life of a movie star.

Today's agenda included shopping for a new home befitting my status. We drove down to a posh suburb of Portland, Lake Oswego where many affluent people reside. As we looked, I became more and more discouraged looking at their piddly little houses. 20,000 square feet, 5 car garage, 9 bathrooms, separate living quarters for the cook, maid and gardner, olympic size pool and a full basketball court? Puuuuleaaaze, boring houses perched on the lake not worthy of my residence. My neighbor Ron who is the best broker in the Pacific Northwest assisted me in securing a 35,000 square foot starter home in Bend, Oregon which will do for now. I bought a commuter jet to wisk me to exotic destinations, such as my winter home in Aruba. Well, let me continue with my day of filming.

Quiet on the set

I expected to hear those words, but there was a different chain of commands that led to the actual filming. Decked out with my college graduation audience member duds, we headed out to the set. Rows of chairs were arranged to face a platform set up to be a commencement area. Probably 150 graduates were seated, and there were some extras that were faculty up on the platform. An A.D. (assistant director, of which there seemed to be about half a dozen) waded through the audience with a bucket, handing out old beat up cameras without film but with fresh batteries so we could take pictures of our 'loved ones'.

Once we were arranged, the filming began. There seems to be a hierarchy with directors. Sean Penn is THE director, then there was a guy who seemed to be the second in the chain, and then as mentioned above some underlings. I'll call the second guy "Number Two". The actual filming took place like this:

1. "Roll Sound" - this was my favorite command. Number Two would shout 'roll sound' and then on the perimeter of the set (which was quite large because of the size of the commencement) underlings would echo from different positions, each with their own inflections - "ROooooOLLING sound", "roll sound", ROLLING SOUND, etc. It was cool.
2. "Background Action" - self explanatory, this was the cue for not the main action, but anything happening in support of the main action. Let's say that there was a couple of people who were to be walking across the back of the set just before the main action would begin. Background action would trigger them so that anything in the background would be natural and not starting at the same time as the main action.
3. "Action" - this was it, when everything happened. My part was a non-speaking part (surprise!) in which I merely smiled, acted natural (this was difficult for me on several levels) and waved and took pictures of my "niece" who was graduating (Jessica, I thought of you and you only have about 15 - 17 more years before you'll be walking across the stage).

Practice Makes Perfect

So for my day of filming I got $90.00 (for 12 hours of work). That included two hours of overtime. They gave out envelopes with $75.00 cash, then two more envelopes with $7.50 in cash. I am going to frame the four quarters as the first dollar I ever made in show biz. For the 12 hours of work, probably 4 hours were 'wasted' time doing nothing. When we were on the set filming a scene, filming the scene again, filming the scene again, filming the scene again - we must have done one scene (graduates throwing their caps into the air) 12 times (I swear I'm not making that up). I'm guessing that for 8 hours of actually being on the set, approximately 15 - 17 minutes of that will actually be in the movie.

You CAN Have Your Cake and Eat it Too

My wonderful colleague Claudia who sits in the cube next to me also was involved in the movie! They shot some of it in a house down the street from her, and gave her $500.00 to rent her driveway for four days to park some equipment in. One day, as filming ended they brought a big sheet cake over and asked if she wanted it. It was a birthday cake prop in the movie, a real cake! Claudia brought it in the next morning and said OK, now I've got a prop from the movie. How do you like them apples? I responded and said "the bar is set - are you in the movie?"? "No, but I have a cake". I responded again, "are you in the movie?" "No, but I have a cake that was in the movie.". We bantered like this for about 3 hours (well, maybe 15 minutes) and acknowledged that we both had a part (although I'll be in the movie!) in the film.

I Talked To a Movie Star

At one point during the lunch break I was walking over to some friends I had made and hung out with. I realized Sean Penn was walking toward me, and at our trajectory and pace he would pass behind me. Suddenly, he changed direction and he and I would intersect. It was kind of surreal, but I just said "hey, how's it going". He responded in like, and that was the end of our conversation. But I talked to a movie star.

The Best Part

At lunch, looking for a place to sit I saw a middle age guy (uh, like me I suppose!) sitting on some steps. He invited me up and as we ate we started conversing. It turned out that his wife had died four months ago during an epileptic seizure. Being an epileptic myself, I was able to project true empathy. As we spoke I felt that I should offer to pray for him. I asked if he would be open to a quick prayer, and he replied sure. I asked God to bring him peace, and to heal the hurt that was evident. Both he and I were moved. Who knows, although fame was stalking me perhaps this was the purpose that I ended up there, to bring first hand experience and comfort to a guy who clearly needed it.

Star Status at Home

Well, as I conclude these updates and launch into my new found fame I have to acknowledge the huge role that Sherry plays. Again, her encouragement and unflagging support have been a huge help in my transition from everyday office worker with my soul being sucked out by the system to a superstar in a constellation of star status compatriots.

Yes, I may be the star in the household - but Sherry is the heavens.

It's a mystery...

Sherry and I are dog lovers, and I've racked my brains to figure this out - I cannot come up with any logical reason. I can't even come up with an illogical reason. What would possess someone to do this to not one dog, but multiple owners with multiple dogs? What started it? What is the relationship here? I feel compelled, like matter being sucked into a black hole, to do this with Kadie.

Lights - Camera - ACTION! - Part Three

October 7, 2006. At 49 years of age I report to my first movie set. I try to appear nonchalant as I'm surrounded by a horde of hopefuls who secretly wish that they could be me. Little Davey Mundt, of humble beginnings, stepping on the first rung of the ladder to Hollywood.

The day started early as I was instructed to report at 7:00 AM. Not as early as some though, to stagger the check in process some people had been told to report at 4:00 AM. Yes, in the morning. One lady whom I fear had to many morning Mimosas that accelerated her star worship had brought a picture to give to Sean Penn. I was expecting maybe a picture of Portland or something like that, but it was of a guy with his head in his hands. Literally. His head had been severed from his body. I didn't get it then, I don't get it now.

Wardrobe

A bus transported us from Fred Meyer Corporate Headquarters to Reed College for our start time. In the instructions they had asked that both men and women not have facial piercings, non-natural hair colors and that women have clean, dry hair in rollers. No kidding. Although most of them didn't, there were enough rollers around that in the pre-dawn hour when I arrived it looked like Night of the Living Dead meets Cosmetology Schoolgirls Gone Wild. How bizarre.

We were taken to the campus and got in line for wardrobe. They gave me back the clothes that I had left with them for the wardrobe appointment, and guided us out to changing tents. The California production company must have assumed that morning chill would overcome us as they had portable heaters blowing into the tent and I think it was about 80 degrees. There were several men who were cast as faculty members, and it was hilarious to watch them struggle with the robes -"can you zip me up"? Heh heh heh.

The Zoo

After wardrobe we were herded like cattle into an auditorium. Because the scene was a college graduation there were about 600 people that showed up. A guy came to the front and gave us a few pointers about the day that went something like this:

1. "We'll go over to the set in approximately an hour and a half. Please be patient and try to have a good time."
2. "Please do not approach the main actors. They are generally friendly but let them, if they desire; approach you first."
3. "There will be a lot of waiting today. Be aware that long periods of time may go by as the set is being changed."
4. "Always follow the A.D.'s (assistant director) instructions.

Then we sat. And sat. And sat some more.

Makeup

I had decided to eschew makeup as my natural good looks have taken me far in life, but because I became bored I thought why not do the whole enchilada. I reported to makeup and the first question they asked was would I be willing to shave my beard (I had about 2 weeks scraggly growth). Sure, no problem - except the shaving station had some little styrofoam bowls, bottled water, cheap Barbasol shaving cream and even cheaper disposable razors. I thought I was going to rip the skin off of my face. It took four of those cheap razors to get me to a satisfactory stubble, baby soft smooth was out of the question.

I then entered a corridor with 10-12 makeup stations lining the walls. Just like you would expect, mirrors with the light bulbs all around them. A really nice makeup artist looked at me and sighed, how could she improve on perfection? Well, she got some of those little wedgie makeup sponges and dabbed stuff on my forehead and nose and then smoothed it out. I mentioned that the cheap razors had really irritated my face and did she have any lotion? Oh yeah, she put some awesome stuff on my cheeks and neck that really helped.

Now, I was ready for filming - whooops, my agent's on the line, I'll have to finish this post later...

Awww, cute lil' sayings

Dove (the chocolate manufacturer, not the soap people) makes these wonderful miniatures that are addictive. I have a friend who is quitting smoking, and she's 'on the patch'. I'm addicted to chocolate, and in like manner I've been securing a Hershey's Kiss to my arm everyday with duct tape. The chocolate is slowly absorbed through my skin and gives me that low level comfort throughout the day.

In my addiction one day I grabbed a few of those little Dove bite sized chocolates to tape to my arm. Unwrapping them I found that they have cute lil' sayings inside. I've been collecting them, following are some of the sayings, and updated with my translation/commentary:

Dove: Make your eyes twinkle.
Dave: Pass the Visine.

Dove: Naughty can be nice.
Dave: Naughty can also get you incarcerated.

Dove: Sit in your yard and watch the leaves fall.
Dave: They come off of the neighbor's tree. When he's not looking I chuck them back into his yard.

Dove: You're allowed to do nothing.
Dave: Talk to my boss.

Dove: The wind tells a story - listen.
Dave: Big deal. So do tornadoes and hurricanes, they just tell them louder.

Dove: Spend the day at a Harvest Festival.
Dave: Booooorrrrrrring.

Dove: Collect 10 different kinds of tree leaves.
Dave: And chuck them into the neighbor's yard also.

Dove: Promise yourself a smile today.
Dave: I don't feel like it.

Dove: Life is a painting, cover the entire canvas.
Dave: Au contraire, life is a highway and I'm gonna ride it all night long.

Dove: Make the most of an Indian Summer day.
Dave: Make the most of a Native American Summer day.

Dove: Look at the reflection of the leaves on your favorite pond.
Dave: I live in Portland, Oregon. There are no reflections because of the green scum.

Another Saturday night with the Mundts.

We have some friends who we adore. You are probably aware of Sherry and Dave's idosyncracies so we'll talk about our friends. Charlie's a cop with a sense of humor, Jill is his hyperactive ADD wife. Sometimes we get together after a Saturday night service at our church. One night, Charlie and Jill invited us to their house to play poker. Charlie and I made a beer run, and ran into someone in the store who he knows. We had fun telling his friend how, with six packs in our hands, we were on our way home from church and decided to stop for a few brewskies on our way to play poker . That's the kind of guy Charlie is, he loves God, loves to bust bad guys, and enjoys a nice beer once in a while. And he's promised to let me shoot a machine gun.

Steve is friendly and outgoing, a regal looking guy who will split your sides making you laugh with goofy faces and sounds, and Lauren is his wonderful wife who is going to get a medal in heaven for putting up with us all. We are all busy, and try to get together a few times a month, and do try to not let a month go by with at least one visit.

Well, Saturday night was our scheduled visit. The day was very busy for both Sherry (who was at work) and I. At one point in between chores and errands she had left a message on our voicemail with her new work number - I saved it to retrieve later and write down the number. I am bad when it comes to messages - too much experience with ramblers has led me to just save it to listen later if the point of the call is not revealed in the first 5-7 seconds.

As I had recalled, we were to show up at 6:00. Sherry was going to come home and get me and then off to the gathering we would go. At 6:30, I thought that Sherry had probably had a walk in appointment (she works at an assisted living community) wherein her time was invested. This had happened before and wasn't a cause for great concern. At 7:00 I thought she was closing the deal. At 7:30 I began to be concerned. At 7:45 I called her cell and left a message. At 8:00 I called Charlie and Jill, and left an urgent message. At 8:15 Sherry calls me and says those three little words that 10 years of marriage will bring:

WHERE ARE YOU?

Well hello, WHERE ARE YOU? I reply. Turns out that in the remainder of her message which I callously cut off, she had informed she was driving straight to the party after work and would see me there. A long pause ensued in which stupidity and shame saturated me like syrup on a waffle. I tried to mount a weak defense but Sherry's logic was inescapable - "I TOLD you in the message".

I hate voicemail.