A Trip to the Viper Room

Last night I made a run up to the Viper Room in West Hollywood. Yes, the same Viper Room where River Phoenix did the speedball that killed him on the sidewalk outside the club.

I was there to see Sarah Kelly, who I had the chance to meet late last year when she performed at my church. She's an awesome lady with a killer voice. The first time I saw her in person I was surprised that big voice was coming out of that little girl (allright...woman). If you haven't heard her, go check her out. She put on a great, if short, show to cap off the European Tour that she just finished. I got a chance to talk to her for just a minute. Now she's taking some well deserved time off to go back home and put together a worship team. I wish her good luck.

The really weird part is that I've been to the Viper Room before and didn't even know it. I've lived with a memory of that joint (there's no better name for it) for many years and was never aware that it was the Viper Room until last night. I knew the place immediately.

It must have been nearly 25 years ago now. I had met a girl named Macy who lived in West Hollywood. I drove up one night to take her out. We went to dinner at a place on Sunset that's now known as Miyagi's, although I have no memory of what it was called back then. After dinner, Macy suggested that we go to a club. Then, as now, checking out a late night club in West Hollywood was an experience entirely foreign to me, but I wouldn't have passed it up for anything. I remember it like it was yesterday...well, maybe last week.

It was an open mike night for indie artists. I remember the place was full of smoke and Hollywood types...real Hollywood types...the type that live in Hollywood, not the movie stars...there's a big difference.

I think often of Macy and wonder how she is. She was a free spirit, and not the girl for me, nor me the guy for her at the time, but the short time I dated her lives well in my memory. I hope she is happy.

I'm out of the office

For the time being, I've abandoned this blog in favor of my LiveJournal. Please visit me at stevekennedy.livejournal.com .

Me at Joshua Tree

 

The Road to Damascus... part deux

Let's see . . . where was I?

Ah, yes. I spent a lot of time in that church. I spent some time in some other Catholic churches nearby also, depending on which had the convenient Mass schedule. I also spent a lot of time being indoctrinated into Catholicism. Looking back now, I spent a lot of wasted years feeling that religion was something to be tolerated. God was someone to be feared (if there was, in fact, a God). Jesus was the Son of God, a great role model, and the guy that hung from the cross above the altar who was covered in a purple sash during Lent. The "Holy Ghost", who became the "Holy Spirit" after Vatican II (I think that was the impetus for the change of name...I was a little young at the time, so I'm not positive about that) was like Casper, the friendly ghost.

All that Catholic education and time spent in church and my Bible knowledge consisted of:

John 3:16;

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only son so that whoever believes in him will not die but will have eternal life."

[Aside:] I also learned that he, him, and his, should always be Capitalized when referring to God, but that convention seems to have dropped by the wayside . . . or maybe it was a Catholic thing, or maybe I'm just missing something. I've already proven a propensity for missing things . . . like the way for my immortal soul to go to heaven.

Corinthinans 13:4-13;

⁴Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
⁸Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. ⁹For we know in part and we prophesy in part, ¹⁰but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. ¹¹When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. ¹²Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
¹³And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

[From Biblegateway.com]

and Ecclesiastes 3:1-8,

¹
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
² a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
³ a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
⁴ a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
⁵ a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
⁶ a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
⁷ a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
⁸ a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

[Again, from Biblegateway.com]

Although it's entirely possible that I learned the first one from the guy who holds that sign up at major sporting events, and the last one from the The Byrds.

[Aside again:] I never knew that Turn, Turn, Turn was written by Pete Seeger, who is a great American songwriter and, furthermore, I don't remember it being in the movie Forrest Gump, but the internet says so, so it must be true.
Note to self: Watch Forrest Gump again just to be sure.

I've also just learned that a knowledge of HTML is helpful in formatting this blog correctly, but I digress. . .

Now don't get me wrong. These are some great Bible verses, they hold a lot of wisdom. BUT...take John 3:16 for instance; I always thought that the part about

"whoever believes in Him will not die. . . "

referred to God the Father , but it seems clear to me now that it refers to God the Son . . . Jesus . . . the one who said:

"I am the way, the truth, and the life. Whoever believes in me will not die but will have eternal life."

John 14:6

Where have we seen those words before?

Maybe I'm just slow on the uptake. All I know right now is that I'm tired. Good night friends.

The Road to Damascus....

It has been about 6 months since I had my own "Road to Damascus" encounter. I am now a Christian. This is quite a change for me. I used to persecute Christians, not unlike Saul of the New Testament. Oh, I didn't take them to prison or behead them or anything, but I certainly tried to persecute them in my own way for their "intolerant" beliefs and ways. My "conversion" is a story, not a particularly long story, but one for later.

A little background:

I was born and raised Roman Catholic. That's Catholic, not Christian. I attended 2 years of Catechism classes (CCD) followed by 10 years of Catholic school and that's only because, at that time, the Catholic elementary school was so hard to get in to that I couldn't start until third grade. Otherwise it would have been the full twelve years of primary education. My parents were Roman Catholic, although the only time I remember seeing my dad in church was...actually, I don't ever remember seeing my dad in church, but I'm sure he must have been there when my brother and sister were married in the church (not to each other, mind you), and at other weddings and funerals. Mom went (and took me) on a somewhat regular basis, although I often had the impression that it was as much because it was "expected" that she go by her older more religious sister, or that she felt a duty to take me, more than because of any real church-going desire on her part. We often left church at what I came to call "half Mass", but is really more like 90% of the service, after the completion of the Rite of the Eucharist.

I was baptised (to remove my original sin), gave my first confession (and nearly my last), received my first communion, was confirmed and married all at the same church.

[Aside]
Five out of seven sacraments wasn't bad I suppose, and as long as I kept mortal sin off my soul, I was destined for heaven. Well, I may have had to set out a few innings in Purgatory, but I'd get there eventually. Heck, that only left the Sacrament of the Sick (formerly known as Extreme Unction or Last Rites) and Holy Orders (the priesthood). Taking the last first, I was never going to be a priest, so Holy Orders was out of the question, and as for the Sacrament of the Sick, one needs to be a little closer to death than simply that tired feeling that I sometimes experience for it to be administered. I was a good Catholic boy.

My sister and brother were married (again, not to each other) in that same church. Some of my cousins were married in that church. I went to Mass every Friday from third through eighth grade in that church. I had a short-lived run as an altar boy in that church. My own daughter was baptised in that church. I guess I'm trying to say that I spent a lot of time in that church.

To be continued...

Another thing that irritates me:
100 Most Often Mispronounced Words. A lot of these bug me every time I hear them. Some of these are just plain stupid though.

Just ran across Flip Flop Socks. While I really like the idea and I've been known to "crunch my socks", as the site describes, from time to time, I never really went out in public like that. I wonder if the comfort factor could ever possibly outweigh the geek factor. I may have to try these.

Just ran across this: TheyTookEverything.com. Why the heck couldn't I think of that?

Not doing very good at this am I? Well, here's something kinda cool that I just ran across:

Pholph's Scrabble Generator My Scrabble© Score is: 29. What is your score? Get it here.

Let's see...it's a new year, how about a New Year's Resolution? How about if I spend a little more time on my Blog?

It just occurred to me (actually, it occured to me earlier today, but it just re-occurred to me) that on this day in 1921 my father was born. If he were still alive he would be 83 years old today. My father died in 1986 at the age of 65. Somehow, this knowledge makes me feel very old. Can it really be almost 20 years since the old man passed away?

What is it that sets some of us down one road and others down another? Why is it that some people have more money than god and I have to be careful about what I spend? I'm a good person. Maybe not the most moral son-of-a-bitch you've ever met, but I've never killed anyone. Or even maimed anyone. And I've had the chance....

OK...things that irritate me #215

It irritates me to no end when I approach an intersection to make a left turn and there's a car in front of me that refuses to get out into the intersection to wait to make his turn. If he'd just get out there in the center, then I could get past the limit line and make the turn when the light changes also. But no...he hangs back at the limit line and roars through when the light turns red leaving me sitting there swearing at him for being an inconsiderate numbskull.

Darn near two months without an entry. My life is either very interesting (leaving me no time to write about all the interesting things) or very boring (leaving me nothing to write about.) I'll let you decide.

At any rate, here's something: I was watching the noon news yesterday at work. KCAL 9 here in Southern California. The weather guy comes on to do his teaser and there's a short breakdown of up coming weather on the screen behind him. The first line is "Wind Advisory's". I damn near fell out of my chair. Isn't there some college educated person getting paid to make sure the weather person and the station don't look like idiots? I guess not, because they sure did.

I gave a link out to the ladies a couple days ago...PickUpYourOwnDamnSocks.com. Here's the men's response to that. Guys, go check Buy Your Own Damn Tampons.

I was just looking at this page, which describes itself as a "List of Words Banished from the Queen's English for Mis-Use, Over-Use and General Uselessness" It reminded me of one of my language pet peeves, the use of the phrase "I (he, she, we, it) could care less." The phrase is "I (et al) couldn't care less." If you could care less, it doesn't really convey the meaning that the phrase intends to convey, now does it?

There's a discussion of this at www.urbanlegends.com/language/could_care_less.html in which the author opines, in part, that the use of "I could care less" is sarcasm. I'm not sure I accept this wholesale. It might be used that way sometimes, but my experience when I've called people on the use of the phrase is that they honestly think they're using the correct phrase to mean that they couldn't care less about X rather than being sarcastic about it.

This author agrees with me.

Merriam-Webster says that "I could care less has an emphatically sarcastic ring to it when spoken." I suppose it does however I stand by my opinion that most people that use the phrase I could care less , sarcastic ring notwithstanding, are not intending to use it sarcastically. They're just...well...wrong.

That's my pet peeve of the day.

Maybe it is the same year that something good happens to me also. The last month has been pretty damn good. Most fun I've had in years.

Anyway...any ladies out there reading this, go take a look at PickUpYourOwnDamnSocks.com. I think you'll get a kick out of it. I do.

The Anaheim Angels won the World Series for the first time in 42 years. Wow. The Angels became a team the same year I was born. There's something cosmic about this that I can't quite put my finger on. Is this the year that something great will happen to me too?

Well, here I am again, and again I take note that I'm no better at this than I am at keeping a real live journal. Is my life that boring? Don't answer that.

Let's see...

I went to the Jimmy Buffett concert last week. Had a great time in the parking lot hanging out with friends and inside the concert listening to the music with a special friend. Everything else sucked about it. Getting into and out of the place was a joke. Every year this happens. Every year 20,000 people show up and want to get into the parking lot at noon. Every year the Irvine cops show up at 1:00 and run around like they've never seen such a thing and try to redirect all the cars. Why can't they figure out that this is going to happen and plan for it?

Getting out was just as big a joke. I paid $20 for "Premium" parking, which is closer to the gate. Ok, that was great, I got to my car quick...then I sat in my car for 20 minutes waiting for the line to move as I watched the people in general parking flow steadily out of the parking lot. After watching other "premium" parkers drive over the cones separating us from the general parkers, I decided to follow. Ok, ok, I didn't really drive over the cones, I went between them and was out in 3 minutes while the premium suckers just sat there.

Then the funny thing happened when I went back to work. One of the guys asked if I went to the concert and I said I did. He mentioned that there were a lot of freaks there, and I said that there sure were. Then he said something like, "all those old guys in grass skirts and coconut bras" !!! Those guys are my friends !!! I was thinking that the freaks were the 20 somethings that were listening to rap in the parking lot and probably have never heard any Buffett song other than Margaritaville or Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw. It all depends on your point of view, I suppose.

OK, I made it through September 11...I even went to a Memorial ceremony near where I work at lunchtime. Now, can anybody explain to me why I don't hear a damn thing about Osama Bin Laden anymore, but a great deal about Sadaam Hussein? What happened to the manhunt for Bin Laden? Why are we diggin up ten year old news in Iraq? Because we're being told that Hussein is on the verge of making "the big one"? Or because George Senior didn't finish the job? I'm sure I just don't see the big picture...because I'm just a liberal commie after all.

I had handed to me an interesting article by one of the guys at work today. The guys at work affectionately refer to me alternately as "bleeding heart liberal" or "Commie bastard" depending on their mood or the amount to which they, deep down, agree with me. The article can be found here. Of course, I realize (most of the time) when I am being baited, and this trap was so big you could have seen it from orbit. I just read through the article, smiled in a couple of places, and said nothing. That was too much for one of the guys who pushed the issue. I stated simply that I agreed with some, but certainly not all, of what the author was saying. This brought out the cries of "Commie Bastard", and my retort of "Blind Sheep".

That being said, I want to make it clear here, even though no one but me might ever read it, that I am still appalled by the events of September 11, 2001 (and I still can't bring myself to call it "nine eleven"). I even have a "Let's Roll" sticker on my vehicle and although I considered taking it off after reading the article, I have decided to leave it on because it still reminds me of the spirit, fortitude, and bravery of thousands of people and of the unnecessary suffering and death of many thousands more.

Maybe more tomorrow, the pieces of my mind are in disarray...