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Tromboneless
Saturday, April 13 :: 5:19 a.m. :: link

:: The national company of "The Music Man," currently in Atlanta, is the target of a boycott. Actor's Equity, on behalf of union performers and musicians not employed on the play's tour, has a list of grievances against the cost-cutting production.

Reports claim no Broadway cast members appear and the orchestra isn't as robust as in New York. Things are so tight, even little Winthrop had to lay off some lisps.

:: Special boycott lyrics for the hit tune, "'Til There Was You":

There was scab Harold Hill,
But I never heard him singing.
No, I never heard him at all,
'Til there were dues.


:: Current mood: Troubled
:: Current music: with a capital "T" and that rhymes with "P" and that stands for "Poo."

I Did It His Way
Saturday, April 13 :: 1:49 a.m. :: link

:: In Las Vegas, Frank Sinatra, Jr. will perform his father's act. The concerts are called "Sinatra Sings Sinatra." It's the biggest show to hit town since "Wences Fists Wences."


:: Current mood: 's'alright
:: Current music: 's'okay

Restaurant Tour
Friday, April 12 :: 2:59 p.m. :: link
Questions asked by fridayfive.org

:: 1. What is your favorite restaurant and why? The eatery at Robert Redford's resort in Utah. I had my best meal ever. I liked the Jeremiah Johnson Bear Claws, Barefoot in the Parsley, The Sting Honey, The Way We Worcestershire Sauce, Out of Paprika, and the Butch Canapé and the Sundance Quiche.

Oh, and after dinner, All the President's Mints.

2. What fast food restaurant are you partial to? Soup on a Stick.

3. What are your standards and rules for tipping? Generous gratuities. Cash only and no pennies. Sorry, I can't accept personal checks.

4. Do you usually order an appetizer and/or dessert? Neither. I'm on a strict diet, so I usually order an entree with sprinkles and chips and dip.

5. What do you usually order to drink at a restaurant? Coca-Cola, but I pronounce it fast, as one word: "Co-cack-oh-lah." It makes servers goofy.


:: Current mood: hungry
:: Current music: “Feed Me”

Snack Food for Thought
Thursday, April 11 :: 5:19 p.m. :: link

:: What Snack Food Are You?


Used by permission

My results to this questionnaire read: "Spongy, yellow, and an utter mystery, you're the X-file of snack foods! More people ponder you than consume you, but you don't mind -- you get to remain uneaten and ... er ... free to do Twinkish things!"

Those are the nicest words anyone's ever said to me. Most of them are true, too, especially "spongy" and "yellow." Give me 10 dollars and don't hit.

Actually, I have done "Twinkish things." In 1995, I appeared as the beloved Twinkies' Bob in the motion picture "101 Facts From the Book of Twinkie Knowledge." The character fell to me when everyone from Sir John Gielgud to Kathy Bates became unavailable and hostile.

Be it beyond me to brag, but my performance was so haunting, to this day I hear the ghost of Lord Olivier sobbing.

I found myself transported across America to Hollywood, riding that Twinkies' Bob juggernaut for all it was worth. I attended The Golden Twinkies Awards, a film competition sponsored by the manufacturer. Our movie grabbed the Best Comedy trophy.

As I sat inside the cavernous Grauman's (Mann's) Chinese Theatre, palace to the kings and queens of cinema and sometimes their pool boys, I watched myself projected onto the giant screen and I could think only one thought, "I wonder if they sell Dots."

Twinkies' Bob remains my defining role. That's the one they don't remember me for.

:: Current mood: creamy, filled
:: Current music: “You Ought to Be in Pictures”

Don Your Sunglasses
Wednesday, April 10 :: 6:15 p.m. :: link

:: At 4:47 this afternoon, the warm temperature on my porch reached 76 degrees. I marked the occasion by changing into 2002's first short pants. Old White Guy Loud Pale Legs Season has begun.

Even though I will be appearing mostly in cooling, hunky, above-the-knee ensembles between now and October, my skin coloring won't change. I don't understand why because I do spend a fair amount of time in the sunshine during the spring and summer. It must be something to do with the aging process.

I got my first hint at 40, while attempting to tan on the beach. That Coppertone dog covered me up.


:: Current mood: breezy
:: Current music: “Blinded by the Light”

The Dirty Words Not in the Movie "Magnolia"
Wednesday, April 10 :: 9:19 a.m. :: link

:: 1. barf
2. a stinkie
3. mommyspit


:: Current mood: cursed
:: Current music: “Shipoopi”

Playing Ketchup
Monday, April 8 :: 9:44 p.m. :: link

:: "Well, Mike, that's what a week feels like," I said to myself, rolling the grocery cart through the supermarket. It seems my wife and I are in the routine of restocking the homestead after dinner each Monday.

"Turn on your heart light," warbled Neil Diamond somewhere above Paper Plates and Sporks, aisle eight.

"Do I hear thunder?" asked Donna, eyeing the saucy gallery of Paul Newmans.

"Yeah, it's gonna rain in the Produce department," I said. "It's cute what they do to jazz-up the fondling guava melons experience."

More stormy sound effects could be heard as the display case sprinklers watered the fresh vegetables.

"Do I hear Neil Diamond?"

--"Hey, look at this ketchup!" I interjected, hoping to avoid our usual in-store radio debate.

"Eww, that's gross."

"No, it's not. It's cool. They're making ketchup in different new colors. Let's try the EZ Squeeze Funky Purple!"

"I'm not eating that on a hotdog," Donna snapped.

"Why, it tastes exactly like regular ketchup. How 'bout the Blastin' Green??"

"Are you nuts?"

"It's what all the cool kids are eating," I said, enhancing the appeal with my most mature inflection.

She gave me the silent blink.

"OK, let's get this bottle of Mystery Color ketchup."

Donna held me in her death-ray vision, and blinked. I swear I heard shattered glass.

"See, with the Mystery Color, you don't know until you squirt," I said, laying out the scientific proof.

"I'm familiar with the concept, Michael."

"It might be Passion Pink, or Awesome Orange, or Totally Teal."

Another she-blink. This one was deafening.

We wound up buying Old Boring Red, but I did get a compromise out of her. When Heinz freezes over and makes Mediterranean Mauve, we'll see.


:: Current mood: mournful
:: Current music: "You Say 'To-may-toe,' I Say 'Toe-mah-toe'"

I'll Take Five Questions for a Thousand, Alex
Sunday, April 7 :: 1:54 p.m. :: link

:: Alright, my people (wife) have informed me today is Sunday. It makes me dizzy to comprehend, but I'll accept the scenario. How all this clock adjustment turmoil saves daylight, I don't know. It gives me a headache for weeks -- extra sunny days, yes, but still headaches.

Somewhere in the shuffle I neglected to post the Friday Five. I found these questions online. Fridayfive.org serves up a new batch of nosiness every, you guessed it, Friday. (Saturday, perhaps, during DST?) These questions are intended for Web loggers to answer each week in their respective blogs. Since I intend to be the bloggiest, may I have the first question, please? ...

1. What are the first things that you do in the morning to start your day?
:: Inhale.
:: Email.
:: Exhale.

2. What are the last things that you do at night before going to bed?
:: Throw tantrum.
:: Scream "I don't wanna go to bed! You can't make me!"
:: Whine for glass of water, bedside delivery. "Thirty minutes or less, and it's pee."

3. What daily routine have you recently added to your day?
The Liza medley, although I give my dancers Mondays off.

4. What routine do you wish you get rid of?
That afternoon interlude with magical puppets.

5. What's the one thing that makes you feel like something is missing if you don't do it some point within your day? Inventory secret Spongebob Squarepants Cheese Nips stash.

When Am I?
Friday, August 19. 2014 :: 12:44 p.m. :: link

:: OK, I think that does it. I reset all the clocks for Daylight Saving Time.

I got 'em all -- clocks, watches, VCR. I even moved my bathroom scales ahead an ounce.


:: Current mood: smug with accomplishment
:: Current music: "Auld Lang Syne"

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Unless noted, all content written and copyright 2002 by Mike Durrett. All rights reserved. I want a book deal, dammit.

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