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This disc has flown

February 11, 2010

A moment of silence, please, in memory of the late Walter Fredrick “Fred” Morrison, who shuffled off this mortal coil earlier this week.

Who was Fred Morrison? I’m glad you asked, friend reader, for indeed this esteemed gentleman played an essential role in my formative years.

Fred Morrison, you see, invented the Frisbee.

Morrison got the idea for his legendary sporting device from tossing a cake pan around when he was young. In 1948, after extensive research into the aerodynamics of bakeware, Morrison began marketing a modified, plastic version of the pan under the trade name Pluto Platter. After Morrison’s initial success, Wham-O Manufacturing bought the rights to the product and changed its name to Frisbee.

As the story goes, the name Frisbee came from a New England bakery — the Frisbie Pie Company — whose aluminum pans were already popular with college students for their fun-flinging capabilities. Wham-O, recognizing a marketable buzzword when they heard one, borrowed the name for Morrison’s flying discs.

The rest, as they say in the sporting goods business, is history.

Here in Rohnert Park, the Frisbee holds a lofty place in our local lore. In the 1970s, Sonoma State University was one of the last remaining bastions of bohemian — dare I use the word hippie? — subculture. Among the hallmarks of Granola State — as the university was often nicknamed in those tie-dyed, macraméd days — was the colorful fusillade of Frisbees that could be seen sailing across its verdant lawns on any sunny afternoon.

Although I didn’t attend SSU, I did obtain my final two years of secondary education on the campus immediately adjacent. Thus, I spent more than my fair share of time hurling a plastic plate to and fro with my friends.

Ah, youth.

Cameron Crowe’s novel Fast Times at Ridgemont High contains a hilarious scene that was, sadly, excluded from the hit film based on the book. In it, a couple of arrested postadolescents in the employ of Wham-O visit the school to perform a Frisbee demonstration. These self-important jocks insist that their sporting device of choice be referred to as “the disc,” because calling it a Frisbee would be plebeian and therefore uncool. (The pair collect the phone numbers of several Ridgemont females before taking their leave.)

There is, I’m told, no truth to the rumor that instead of being buried, Fred Morrison’s remains were simply cast willy-nilly upon the roof of a nearby house, and abandoned there.

As fitting as that might have been.

Categories: Aimless Riffing, Celebritiana, Dead People Got No Reason to Live, Hero of the Day, My Home Town, Reminiscing, Ripped From the Headlines, Sports Bar

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Oscar roulette

February 2, 2010

I’m not sure yet how I feel about the expanded field of Best Picture nominees for this year’s Academy Awards.

On the one hand, I realize this is nothing new from a historical perspective. The top Oscar category was similarly sized for a dozen years in the early days of the awards, from 1931 to 1943. It wasn’t until the 17th series of honors, in 1944, that the Best Picture field was trimmed to its more familiar five. So, in a way, this year’s 10 nominated films represent a return to Oscar’s glorious past.

I also acknowledge that the larger number of nominated films permits the Academy to spotlight smaller, less-viewed pictures that merit wider appreciation, such as the Coen Brothers’ A Serious Man and the Nick Hornby-scripted An Education. There’s something to be said for Oscar not making its usual schizophrenic divide between the big-budget spectacular and the more intimate arthouse picture. The rising nomination tsunami is sufficiently voluminous to lift twice as many boats.

And, thankfully, there’s no longer the ghettoization of genre films (i.e., the sci-fi allegory District 9) or animated features (i.e., Disney/Pixar’s marvelous Up, only the second animated film in 82 years to vie for Best Picture) to the technical categories. Now, these films can stand alongside the “big boys” when the year’s top motion picture achievements are saluted.

Still, however, I find myself looking at the list of nominated films in much the same vein as I review the field for the Kentucky Derby every May. In truth, there are only a handful of horses in the race with genuine winning potential. All the rest are merely there to fill out the Racing Form. No one seriously looks at the ten Oscar-nominated pictures and believes that more than three or four of them have even a prayer of hauling down the big prize. The rest are like coaches of color getting token Rooney Rule interviews for an NFL head coaching position, when the team has already decided to hire a white guy.

Some might opine that a token nomination is better than none. Maybe they’re right.

In the end, the nominees will have to puzzle that out for themselves.

Categories: Aimless Riffing, Celebritiana, Cinemania, Disney, Ripped From the Headlines

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Gorilla the golden west

January 31, 2010

Today is January 31, and you know what that means…

January 31 is National Gorilla Suit Day!

It’s National Gorilla Suit Day.

This would be as appropriate a time as any to mention that I recently picked up The Completely MAD Don Martin, an exhaustive two-volume compendium of every cartoon every published in MAD Magazine by the late, great Don Martin, the founder of this auspicious holiday. It’s a treat to leaf through the pages and revisit the insane genius of one of history’s most unique humor artists.

If you can find the set online at a steep discount, as I did — and it’s not hard to do, with a bit of savvy surfing — I enthusiastically recommend that you pick up a copy. You’ll laugh yourself silly. But that’s okay. It’s good for you.

Tell ’em your Uncle Fonebone sent you.

Categories: Aimless Riffing, Celebritiana, Dead People Got No Reason to Live, Good Reads, Hero of the Day, Ripped From the Headlines, That's Cool!

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Irony of the Day: Your lottery number is up

January 27, 2010

From the Don’t Count Your Chickens Before You Eat All the Eggs Department…

A 47-year-old woman who recently won $8,000 in the Ohio Lottery was struck and killed by a passing car as she left the bar where she was celebrating her windfall.

I wonder how much a cemetery plot and casket cost in Ohio? Hopefully, less than eight grand.

Categories: Aimless Riffing, Dead People Got No Reason to Live, Ripped From the Headlines

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Globetrotting

January 18, 2010

Yes, the clatter of keys you heard during last night’s Golden Globe Awards telecast was indeed yours truly typing notes. What follows represents my more cogent observations. (Lucky for you I edit out the blather.)

Ricky Gervais as host: Fail. Ye gods, man — penis jokes and endless plugs for your own DVD box set? How old are you? I usually find Gervais pretty funny, but this may have been the most excruciating awards show hosting job since David Letterman’s infamous “Oprah… Uma” turn at the Oscars. A little bit of I-don’t-give-a-fig shtick from a comic is okay, but not when said comic clearly doesn’t give a fig, for real.

Feel-good moment: Mo’Nique’s acceptance speech. Coming from someone who will probably never win another acting award in this lifetime, the happiness seemed genuine and heartfelt.

Winner who looked terrific when she usually doesn’t: Toni Collette. She should wear that same gold dress to every occasion, forever. Has anyone actually seen the show for which she won?

And the Miss Nepotism trophy goes to: Alfre Woodard’s daughter, Mavis Spencer. Every year at the Globes, the daughter (and 0n rare occasion, the son) of some well-known show biz personality gets assigned the task of handing the awards to the presenters, so they can in turn hand them to the victors. Past trophy-toters have included such future stars in their own right as Laura Dern, Joely Fisher, Freddie Prinze Jr., and Rumer Willis, who did the honors last year.

Making my daughter the Dexter fanatic giddy: Wins for Michael C. Hall and John Lithgow, from said series. Hall rocks a black knit cap, having recently lost his hair to chemotherapy.

Grizzly Adams sighting: No, wait, that’s William Hurt.

Funniest line of the night: Sir Paul McCartney, referring to himself as “that guy from Rock Band.” Good on ya, Macca. Sir Paul’s crack about animation being “not just for children, but also for adults who take drugs” was a close runner-up.

And the band played off: I love both Meryl Streep (Best Actress in a Comedy for Julie and Julia) and Pete Docter (director of Best Animated Feature winner UP!), but please, people, know when to shut up.

One ramble that worked: Robert Downey, Jr. (Best Actor in a Drama for Sherlock Holmes), who admitted that he didn’t prepare a speech because his wife “said Matt Damon would win.”

Put. The Ambien. Down.: That would be you, Harrison Ford. Are we keeping you up, grandpa? Or would just a little hint of enthusiasm kill you? By the way, your date needs a Double-Double from In-N-Out Burger on the way home.

Star whose attire came closest to a superhero costume: Drew Barrymore. Unfortunately, the superhero Drew channels is Maggott from the X-Men comics. Whose idea was it to sew gigantic leeches onto Drew’s dress? At least this year, she wore underwear.

Winner whose name will give the engraver the biggest chuckle: T-Bone Burnett (Best Original Song). I propose that every year, there should be at least one nominee named after a cut of beef.

Speaking of meat: Kevin Bacon wins.

I don’t want to be in the front row: When Gerard Butler is on stage. I’m afraid he’ll get spit all over me.

The only cat in America who can still rock velvet: Samuel L. Jackson. You go on with your bad self, Sam. Just stay off airplanes.

What is best in life: The Governator being assigned to introduce clips from a movie whose title he can’t pronounce. That “Ahbeedah” looks like a pretty good flick, though.

Winner who looked awful when she usually looks… well… awful: Chloe Sevigny. Don’t blame your escort, Chloe — given the chance, I’d have stomped on that hideous, oatmeal-hued monstrosity of a gown too. You’d have done better if you’d borrowed one of your fundie-Mormon frocks from the Big Love wardrobe department. You’re a fantastic actress, but hire a stylist.

Aw, yeah: Halle Berry. Can she just stand there for the entire show?

Lifetime Achievement Award: Martin Scorsese. I’m not a huge fan of his films — the only Scorsese pictures I really liked were After Hours and The Color of Money — but he’s a monumental directing talent who also seems like a genuinely nice man. James Cameron will never win one of these awards, because he’s an obnoxious, pompous jerk (or so I’m told by people who’ve worked on his set).

Cleans up nicely when she’s of a mind to: Jodie Foster.

Surprise of the night (at least to me): Glee wins for Best TV Comedy. Excellent show, and deserving, but not the sort of thing that usually wins awards (***cough***Mad Men***cough***).

Wondering out loud: How shallow is the nominee pool this year if Sandra Bullock wins an acting award?

The wrong guy to give an award after three hours of sitting at a table drinking: Jeff Bridges. ‘Nuff said.

The wrong guy to give an award, ever: James Cameron. And I say that as someone who, for the most part, enjoys his films — with the exception of Titanic, which apart from Kate Winslet is nearly unwatchable. Giving him honors, however, just encourages his egomania.

Oh, by the way, Jim: It’s the talented women who age well. The skeletal blondes, not so much.

Categories: Aimless Riffing, Celebritiana, Cinemania, Listology, Ripped From the Headlines, Sexiest People Alive, Teleholics Anonymous

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Burj Khalifa: Arabic for “she’s a big’un”

January 4, 2010

The world’s tallest building opened today, and already they’ve changed its name.

Burj Khalifa, the world's tallest structure

Known throughout its years of construction as Burj Dubai (“Dubai Tower” in Arabic), the 2,717-foot-tall behemoth is now officially Burj Khalifa (“Tower Named After the Rich Dude Who Loaned Us Money” in Arabic). The switch in nomenclature honors Sheik Khalifa bin Zayed Al Nahyan, president of the United Arab Emirates, whose infusion of petroleum cash enabled debt-ridden Dubai to complete the tower.

To give us some perspective, Burj Khalifa stands twice the height of the Empire State Building, and rises more than 50 stories higher than America’s tallest building, Willis Tower (which used to be known as Sears Tower until it was renamed last year… must be a thing with supertall buildings).

Yeah, that’s big.

The tallest building that I personally have ever been inside is the Stratosphere Tower in Las Vegas. For someone as acutely acrophobic as I am — I’m uncomfortable just climbing or descending stairs — standing on the observation deck at the Strat was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.

So if I ever make it to Dubai — and yes, it’s on my bucket list — I’ll probably content myself with admiring the Burj from ground level.

I will, however, buy the T-shirt.

Categories: Aimless Riffing, Ripped From the Headlines, That's Cool!

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What’s Up With That? #84: Grave robbers

December 3, 2009

If ever there was an argument for the return of public flogging, this just might be it.

Last weekend, a family of four from nearby Sonoma — John and Susan Maloney and their two young children, an 8-year old son and 5-year-old daughter — were killed in a horrific automobile accident, when a 19-year-old NASCAR wannabe blazed through a red light at a speed in the neighborhood of 90 MPH and smashed into the family’s minivan.

The Maloneys were returning home from a Thanksgiving vacation in Hawaii.

Nothing much can be done about the offending driver, who also died shortly after the crash. But… check this out.

A couple of twentysomethings from down on the Peninsula heard the tragic news I’ve just described — the story was ubiquitous in the local media — and said to themselves, “Hey… since those people are dead, they won’t be using their stuff any more, right?”

They seized the opportunity. After making the 70-mile trek up to Sonoma, they emptied the Maloneys’ house of valuables, including the family’s second car, a 2006 Nissan 350Z.

As it happened, the female partner in this nefarious duo got busted in a routine traffic stop in San Mateo the day after the robbery. When the police discovered that Ms. Lowlife was driving on a suspended license, they searched her car, where they discovered one of Susan Maloney’s credit cards, as well as a Blu-Ray DVD player and other items stolen from the Maloney home.

The Maloneys’ purloined vehicle was later found parked in front of the criminal mastermind’s home, with her ex-con boyfriend at the wheel. Most, if not all, of the Maloneys’ property was recovered.

In the words of Sonoma Police Chief Bret Sackett, “This certainly was a new low for me and, I think, for everybody else investigating this case.”

Bonnie and Clyde are now cooling their felonious heels in the Sonoma County Jail.

I’m not a violent or vindictive guy. But if authorities decided it would be a good idea to paddle these two troglodytes’ backsides in the town square at high noon…

…they’d get no argument from me.

Categories: Aimless Riffing, My Home Town, Ripped From the Headlines, Taking Umbrage, What's Up With That?

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Citizen of eWorld

November 30, 2009

A random post to an online forum I frequent jolted into memory a fact that I hadn’t considered before today…

I’ve been online for 15 years.

That’s almost as long as the World Wide Web itself has been around.

I bought my first computer way back in 1988, with a chunk of my original Jeopardy! winnings. This wonderful addition was an Apple Macintosh Plus, equipped with what seemed at the time like almost unlimited memory — a full megabyte of internal RAM, supplemented by an outboard hard drive boasting 20 (yes, 20!) MB. Heck, on my current Windows Vista-powered Dell notebook, a single keystroke exhausts 20 MB. (I’m exaggerating, but not by much.) But back in the day, that kind of juice meant I was living large in the cybernetic age.

Even more bizarre, I equipped that microscopically brained Mac with a slightly used floor-demo laser printer that cost more than all the computer hardware I’ve purchased in the 20 years since. Combined.

My Mac Plus and I chugged along happily together for six years, blissful in our word-processing glory. Then, in 1994, I started hearing about some newfangled “Internet” thing, and this “World Wide Web” that made it accessible to the common man. So, being about as common as men come, I invested in a fancy new Mac that not only possessed scads more computing power than my charming old relic, but even came with a color (!) monitor. Best of all, by connecting a snazzy dialup modem, I could launch myself out onto the WWW and communicate with folks near and far.

Talk about living large.

At the time, Apple offered its own self-branded online service for Mac users only, known as eWorld. I was, I’m fairly certain, one of the original handful of eWorld subscribers, joining shortly after the service went live in the summer of ’94. When eWorld debuted, it featured a quaint graphic interface that collected all of the possible online destinations under a handful of category umbrellas, organized to make the Internet feel like a global village.

Newsstand enabled one to connect with news and sports resources. What few e-commerce sites existed then were grouped under Marketplace. Such nexuses as Arts and Leisure Pavilion, Business and Finance Plaza, and Learning Center collected other types of sites. Computer Center offered Mac technical support. Community Center was eWorld’s native aggregation of forums and bulletin boards. If you couldn’t figure out where to go or what to do, you tapped the Info Booth icon.

Navigating eWorld was clunky and far from intuitive. in those halcyon days, though, one thrilled at the mere notion of linking to a world of information with a few clicks of a (single-button) mouse.

Frankly, there never was more than a smattering of citizens populating eWorld. That explains why Apple pulled the plug on the service less than two years later, fobbing us loyalists off on then-nascent America Online. In March 1996, my electronic address changed overnight from my very first, SwanShadow-at-eWorld-dot-com, to the somehow less cool-sounding SwanShadow-at-AOL-dot-com. (I imagine that latter e-dress is probably still extant, even though I haven’t accessed it in a half-decade or more.)

Without question, I’ve seen incredible change along the information superhighway over the last 15 years. It’s faster, infinitely more diverse, and innumerable ways exist to find what you’re searching for.

It’s just hard to believe I’ve been out here in the ether this long.

Categories: Aimless Riffing, Blogosphere, Reminiscing, SwanStuff, That's Cool!

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SwanShadow Gives Thanks: This Time, It’s For Real

November 26, 2009

On each of the five most recent Thanksgiving Days, I’ve used this space — and the space this blog occupied previously — to itemize in alphabetical format a random sampling of things for which I am grateful.

This year, I told myself: If it’s working, don’t fix it.

Thus, the sixth annual edition of SwanShadow Gives Thanks. (You can peruse the previous years’ lists here.)

Amazon Kindle 2. A virtual library of books everywhere I travel, in a lightweight device the size of a DVD case. Everyone on the staff at the hospital KJ frequently visits wants one. I’m currently reading Satchel: The Life and Times of an American Legend, Larry Tye’s fine biography of baseball star Leroy “Satchel” Paige.

Brizzly. A nifty online client that lets me track both of my Twitter accounts and my Facebook page in one convenient location. If you’re not already following me, you should be.

Common Elements, my signature theme of comic art commissions. Each artwork in the series depicts two (and occasionally more) unrelated comic book heroes who share something in common. The connections are sometimes obvious (i.e., Red Arrow and Red Sonja), sometimes obscure (i.e., The Question and Starfire, whose civilian names — Vic Sage and Koriand’r — are both herbs). You can see all 87 of the existing Common Elements pieces in my online gallery.

Disneyland, the Happiest Place on Earth. This summer, I had a chance to visit there for the first time in several years. It still makes me giddy.

Eugene Finerman, one of the all-time great champions in the history of Jeopardy!, and the man who every day on his excellent blog, Your RDA of Irony, teaches me something that I didn’t know. Eugene is a one-man compendium of all things historical — like a university survey class, only funnier.

Freebies. I love getting stuff for free, whether it’s product samples in the mail or random nibbles at Costco. Uncle Swan’s credo: If it’s free, it’s for me.

Gasoline. We need things to make us go.

Headlines, the most hilarious five minutes in weekly television. I missed my Monday night fix while Jay Leno was transitioning from The Tonight Show to his new 10 p.m. gig. I’ll probably miss it again when Jay’s new show gets canned by NBC, as I’m increasingly certain that it will.

Iraklion Air Station, Crete, Greece. I spent two halcyon years of my youth there, in the early 1970s. Some wonderful memories that I cherish more than 35 years later. The base is long since decommissioned, but I’d like to get back and see what’s left of it while I’m still on the planet.

Jon Miller, quite possibly the premier broadcaster in all of baseball. And we Giants fans have got him.

KJ and KM, my wife and daughter. I’m especially thankful that they are together for Thanksgiving. They’ve missed each other while KM’s been away at college.

My Lord Jesus, who makes all things possible, and who hasn’t given up on me just yet.

Max’s Café in Corte Madera. Terrific sandwiches, and friendly service. You’ve gotta love a joint that gives you both French fries and onion rings with your order. I recommend the BLT with avocado, and the Philly cheesesteak.

No Reservations, Anthony Bourdain’s show on the Travel Channel. I don’t think I’d want to tour with Tony — he drinks and smokes too much for me to find him a pleasant companion — but I’d like to see some of the places he goes. In fact, I have seen some of them.

Oracle Arena, the home court of my beloved Golden State Warriors. KM and I saw a few fun games there last season. The games will be even more fun when head coach Don Nelson finally retires.

Plasma TV. Ah, the wonders of modern digital technology.

Quiet. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget how great a blessing it can be.

Round Table Pizza. It’s the last honest pizza, or so the ads say. All I know is that it tastes pretty good.

Sausalito, the beautiful waterfront town where I go every week to study the craft of voice acting. Speaking of which…

Traxers — my fellow students at Voicetrax. A more encouraging and supportive community of actors you will not find. Here’s to everyone’s success in 2010.

Unfriend, the Oxford English Dictionary‘s 2009 Word of the Year. In case you’re unclear, it’s a verb, not a noun. Although I’ve known a few people to whom such a noun might have been appropriately applied.

Vitamin Water. Because you could take vitamins, and drink water, but it’s just simpler to have them commingled together.

Walmart. Scoff if you will. They have the stuff I need at prices I like. And the other patrons provide free entertainment. Do I think the people who run the company are whacko? Sure. But I’m not so wealthy that I can afford to pay a premium for non-whacko. If you are, do what pleases you.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Not because it was a great — or even a good — movie, but because it made enough dough that other superhero films will continue to get the green light. You know I loves me some superheroes.

Yellow highlighter. Whoever invented this indispensable tool should have received a medal. Or a knighthood. Or something.

Zero Tolerance, manufacturers of military-grade blades. I like sharp things.

I’m thankful that you’re here, too. Be genuinely grateful for every one of your blessings — they can disappear in an instant. Never forget that.

May you and those you love enjoy a happy, healthy, and honored Thanksgiving.

Categories: Aimless Riffing, Listology, SwanStuff, Thanksgiving

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What’s Up With That? #83: Cap’n Jack bests Cap’n Swan… again

November 18, 2009

For the umpteenth consecutive year, the editorial staff of People Magazine has seen fit to deny me my rightful title of Sexiest Man Alive.

Instead, they picked Johnny Depp again.

This seems a rather pointless exercise. Most of the women I know already think Johnny Depp is, if not the Sexiest Man Alive, at least somewhere in the top ten. The same goes for George Clooney and Brad Pitt, who are the other two gents who’ve double-dipped People‘s loftiest honor.

Why not tell the world something they don’t yet know, People?

After all, I too can talk like a pirate.

Sigh. Maybe next year.

Categories: Aimless Riffing, Celebritiana, Cinemania, Hero of the Day, Ripped From the Headlines, Sexiest People Alive, Taking Umbrage, Talk Like a Pirate Day, What's Up With That?

Comments: 4 Comments

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