Issue 51: Various and Sundry
By Clancy Lass

Mouthgarden

A downward spiral can be entertaining, unless you are on the receiving end of it. Zachary Blasto, a man consumed by music, alcohol and the visions in his head, is a broken record skipping into oblivion as he tries to come to terms with loss; of love, of family and of his mind.

This is Rainbow Around the Sun, a voyeuristic thrill-ride at once beautiful, intriguing, sad, invigorating, hopeful, remorseful and stunning. The life of the medium alone has experienced a metamorphosis from concept album, staged concert and now, the movie, coming home for the Oklahoma premiere at the Dead Center Film Festival in June.

The love child of local talent Matthew Alvin Brown, Rainbow is a tour de force of the complications a mind can plague the owner with when abused by the creative forces of music, sex, and familial obligation. Blasto himself is somewhat a rainbow of personalities; different hues to different people. An asshole. A loving son. A shitty boyfriend. A mess. A musical prodigy.

Blasto is a musician hiding in his mind to avoid dealing with the problems in his disastrous life. Failing as a lover and grasping to his last moments with his father, he reflects on the stages of his life, all the while tied to his band, the musical umbilical cord sustaining what is left of his shattered heartbeat.

And no, I haven’t seen the movie. I have the album and was lucky enough to see the staged “reading” of the music last weekend on a rare night out.

Directed by Kevin Ely, (local writer and playwright of the fantastic “Feigning Grace”), and Beau Leland, with book by Ely, and all music by Brown and The Fellowship Students, the movie was chosen as an official selection of the South by Southwest Film Festival and the 2008 Florida Film Festival. Dead Center will premiere the movie opening night outdoors at 9:30 p.m. June 11th and again at the Oklahoma City Museum of Art at 5:30 p.m. June 13th.

Supporting local artists, whether in film, music or the visual or theatrical arts, is important to our community. Our state has so many creative individuals waiting to share their crafts with you. Matt Brown is one of those rare performers who truly shares a piece of his soul and inspiration while simultaneously entertaining you. He and Ely are sweet, talented, dandy men and I am thrilled to support their endeavors and call them friends. Bravo, guys.

www.rainbowaroundthesun.com
 

Issue 50: Various and Sundry
By Clancy Lass

My Top Five, NC Style

The movie High Fidelity starring John Cusack and Jack Black has been frequently playing on daytime television in the recent past. I have caught it a few times, jarring how much I love that movie back into my brain, the Top Five lists especially. Since the movie debuted, I often send out five questions to my friends on Fridays, asking various things, but I realized today I had not sent the query in a while asking their all-time Top Five: your list of celebrities. In reviewing my own choices, I realized just how incredibly nerdy my preferences are, and wondered why I can’t have the normal Matthew McConaughey-hay-hay and Brad Pitt on mine. It would be so much easier than having to answer the automatic response of “Who?” for almost all of them. Both Billy Crystal and Philip Seymour Hoffman have recently been removed from the list for “out of sight, out of mind reasons,” Billy especially. I will still have mad love for them, along with Kevin Spacey, who dwelled in the Number One spot for probably close to ten years. My current list is as follows…

NUMBER FIVE - RICHARD Blaise
He’s one of those people flamboyant enough to be called just by their last name. He sports a faux-hawk and pink Crocs, rocks the Molecular Gastronomy style of cooking, and knows what to do with a blow torch. And yeah, he’s straight. Owner and designer of Trail-Blaise restaurant in Atlanta, GA, Top Chef Season 4 contestant Blaise is a welcome, tunky-nerd addition to my Top Five. He is hilarious, competitive, extremely interesting and let’s face it…a man who cooks is always a plus. I think you can win this bitch. Rock out a few more wins!

NUMBER FOUR - JEMAINE Clement
He describes his look as an “Ogre who works in a library.” I don’t have a problem with that. He is hilarious, a fantastic writer, (both screen and song), can sing and is just really strangely enticing to look at. Plus, funny will always trump sexy. It just will. I don’t care who you are. It just will.

NUMBER THREE - JOHN Linnell
The soulful eyes, inventive lyrics and penetrating voice make him an irresistible nerd welcomed to my list about three years ago. There is something to be said if you are in a room full of people watching him sing, and you feel like you are the only person there, nearly in tears because his songs are so personal. So adorably nerd-sexy.

NUMBER TWO - DAVID Wain
For several reasons, I love him. First, he is one-third of Stella. Second, he directed Wet Hot American Summer. Third, he is hot. Fourth, he recently wrote and starred in his own YouTube series called Wainy Days, which is hilarious. Fifth, one of the funniest segments of Best Week Ever was his feature on how annoying David Blain the magician was when he did his stint in the bubble thing, and started a protest outside of it saying “Quit trying to out-Blain David Wain!” Sixth, when I get my email notices on Stella, WHAS and The State, it’s often him who writes them, and he’ll write you back. Seventh, his web site is hilarious. And he’s just hot.

NUMBER ONE - MICHAEL Emerson
It was a gestational crush. I’d been a fan of his for a while because of Lost and had even seen him on Broadway in The Iceman Cometh during the Kevin Spacey days, but never had a crush on him. Then I got pregnant. And I had those hormone-induced pregnancy dreams of jungle love on Lost’s freaky-deaky island with him, and afterward he would sit on a fallen tree and tell me what was missing from the book I have been trying to write for the past year. Then I had to find everything he was in and watch it. And I had more dreams where he would be my muse, guiding my writing. He usually plays a murderer. Very well. Even Entertainment Weekly had him do his own list of top five horror movies he loves and what scary is to him because he’s creepy. And I love him. I got all the way to Waikiki this past January, where he lives during filming, but due to the Q-bert signs Writer’s Strike, he was back in New York and I was unable to stare at him. So he’s going on 55, his hair is getting sparse and he’s married. Does it really matter? He has a liquid voice, an exceptional vocabulary, is into Shakespeare and the Greeks, and taught for years. I love him.

Issue 46: Various and Sundry
By Clancy Lass

Not That Kind of Girl

Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Thriller…Those aren’t my genres. Or weren’t until I was introduced to you, my dear J.J. Abrams, and your Bad Robot productions. Oh, how I will follow you and your pop culture phenomena to the ends of the earth. How you dangle unknown actors in my face, tie me into story lines and tease me with unbearable cliff-hangers. I love you. I hate you. I can’t live without you.

It all started in 1998 with Felicity. I had nowhere to go. The tangled dorm life of a bookish girl embroiled with the bad boy, the good boy, the quirky roommate, the gay friend and the pseudo-depressive best friend; it was irresistible. I even contemplated a perm, desperate for Keri Russell’s locks.

Because of you, I actually watched Underworld because Scott Speedman was in it. And I followed you to Alias because Noel’s nerdy girlfriend was playing the lead, so you are also responsible for Jennifer Garner’s success. That’s when you really did a number on me. That isn’t my type of show: espionage, crime, judo, ridiculous stories involving death and resurrection of the same person more than once.

And yet I couldn’t turn my eyes.

You are responsible for Greg Grunberg. If you said “Who the hell is that?” you are not worthy of Nerd City. Go sit in the corner and think about what you’ve done. Greg is J.J.’s go-to cameo boy: the funny guy in Felicity. The best friend in Alias. The pilot on Lost. Matt Parkman in Heroes. That’s right…soak up the shame.

Lost had been on for several weeks before I finally decided to take a look, finding out you were the producer. I thought it was Survivor, but with Matthew Fox crying, and it didn’t sound appealing at all. Yet I was instantly hooked. Then you screwed with my heart by adding Him. You know of whom I speak. My dear, sweet Ben (Michael Emerson.) Oh, how I long to have him manipulate me on a weekly basis. You are a genius. And now he is a pop culture phenomena all on his own. In fact, may I be so bold as to suggest a face-off between Michael Emerson and Michael Emerson for the Tournament of Villainy: Zep Hindle vs. Ben Linus? William Hinks vs. Allan Shaye? Gerry Rankin vs. Henry Gale? All his characters have a charming yet chilling educated civility to them…much like Magneto. …But I digress.

Now, I’m theatrically entranced by Cloverfield.

Little planned dialogue, a handheld camera, and not the cheese of Blair Witch Project; just good, simple fun and very little cursing, which surprised me from what I can assume was largely ad-libbed.

What I enjoy most is that you use largely unknown actors, gain sympathy with them because we know so little of their talents, we buy them as the person you tell us they are, then catapult them into stardom. I love it. I love how you take as much risk in the casting as you do in the concepts themselves.

I love you and your Science Fiction sexy.

Just add in a little more Ben.

Even though I’m not that kind of girl.

Issue 44: Don't Bother Me, I'm Thinking
By Clancy Lass

Blind Leading the Blind

It had not been a Merry Christmas to that point…

My newlywed and I were having a very difficult time finishing up the debris from our wedding. Our home was a disaster area, we were still writing thank you notes squeezing in Christmas shopping at the sacrifice of everything else.

I hadn’t been looking forward to Christmas because too much in my life had just changed. My name wasn’t even the same. Between work and the holidays, there wasn’t time to just relax and enjoy being married. The joy had even been taken out of receiving gifts because of the wedding. We received so many, I just honestly didn’t want any more. Though believe me, the sentiment was greatly appreciated.

So the “anticipation of Christmas?” Just not there. Church had also not been the comfort it usually is. That reason I cannot answer. I just seemed to have lost the meaning in between fighting people for the last toy of its kind and wrapping paper that I knew people would tear up and throw away in a matter of seconds.

Sending a few measly Christmas cards felt like a punishment. They were all just courtesy cards to those who had sent cards to me. Baking the sweets for the family used to be something I looked forward to all year round, and hoped a bulk of the duties would someday be mine. Be careful what you wish for. They are now almost ALL mine. And the fun has begun to sink out of this tradition as well, with no one is there to help sift the flour or melt the butter. They all have children and other lives.

We were also on the crucial second year of family division for the holidays. However you choose to divide in the beginning may decide the next several years, as it will then be seen as a tradition. Thus began our fight and my bad mood on this momentous afternoon…

“A Christmas Carol” is generally a story I ignore. The idea that someone is mean all the time and doesn’t like Christmas is just too far-fetched. But in one instance that night, I realized I am Ebenezer. I refuse to say Scrooge, as I have at least seen the error of my ways and hope to make some sort of amends for my transgressions. And all I had to do was get on an escalator.

My husband and I had been bickering for several hours, (bad habit, but we get over it.) Anyway, we climbed aboard an escalator to zoom past Gymboree and the Gap and get to El Chico for dinner in between shopping and a trip to the mall cinema.

As we rode, a man several people behind us began yelling at the woman in front of us. It was his wife and he was puzzled as to where she and her two girls were going. Admittedly, I was annoyed. I didn’t give a crap where they were going and get easily irritated at people yelling a conversation around me. The mother and the girls reached the landing, got off the escalator and just stopped. I assumed they were waiting for their loud-mouth dad. And in a voice I considered under my breath or just to my husband, I sarcastically said, “Why don’t we all just stop.” The mother must have been as eves-droppy as I. She heard me and replied…are you ready for this? She replied…

“She’s blind. That is why we had to stop.”

I didn’t say another word to her. For the first time in years I was speechless. But my defiance and pride stopped me from even looking at the mother or the girl, or making an apology. I just kept walking. I even tried to justify my rude behavior by saying loudly a moment later, “She’s not going to make me feel bad. They could have stepped over to the side.”

We arrived at El Chico and I noticed how silent my husband had become. After some chips were delivered to our table, he said, “Are you just really wound up tonight?” I snapped, “Why? The waitress forgot the lime for your beer, so I asked her to bring some. I wasn’t rude.” He said, “I know. I’m not talking about that.” I said, “I already feel bad enough having tried to shove a blind girl out of the way.” And then I just started crying. He said, “I knew you already felt bad enough. You just seem really worked up.”

We walked down to the movies after dinner to see “Spanglish.” You go into movies thinking you will identify with the main character, who is usually the good person, the one who does the right thing and can’t get a break. …But another slap in the face made me realize I was just like the over-controlling, ever-correcting selfish mother played by Tea’ Leoni. It was hard to enjoy the movie after that, though I did.

For Christmas that year, I received a wake-up call.

Maybe we all have a Charlie Brown and Linus moment of clarity around the holidays. We are all lost, trying to find the spirit of Christmas and brotherly love, and from out of nowhere comes one small thing said by the least expected person/character that changes your entire perspective- humbles you, and makes you thankful all at once. And the fact that I got it and it moved me…Maybe I’m not so bad after all.

But even more unexpected is that I feel like the scrawny Christmas tree more than I do Charlie Brown. I am not attractive. I have nothing to prove and I’m just a sharp small tree that loses her needles around people. But a mother was willing to show me patience because she knew I had no idea of her daughter’s blindness. And my husband continues to love me so much that sometimes, something like a light or a Christmas ornament will show in my smile.

We can’t all be evergreens. We can’t all be good, compassionate people all the time, and Lord knows I’ve never claimed to be. But maybe somewhere in there I can figure out how to be as strong as I am stubborn and change myself…realize I’m the one that’s really blind.

…Or at least buy some duct tape and close off my mouth.

Issue 39: Various and Sundry
By Clancy Lass

October Nightmare

Each year at this time, the age-old question of what to be for Halloween plagues me as I try to come up with something original for my friend’s annual Halloween Bash. The array of clever ideas other people can come up with never ceases to amaze me when I walk through the door, and for once I want to really concoct something fantastic.

There are usually several “partner costumes,” which is what James and I usually shoot for. We have been Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf in Granny’s Pajamas. A few friends and family members stole this idea for other Halloween parties. The guy in the equation chose a robe to throw over his clothes. Not James. He picked out a short-sleeved, scoop-necked nightgown. Lavendar with flowers. And an orange child’s sized “wolf” hood and a snout. He looked like an elderly female dog wearing a caftan, but I thought it was awesome and everyone laughed. Last year we were supposed to be a barnyard family: Philip was a horse, James was a cow, (but the udders were a little risqué, he realized once he got to the party and was groped all night), and I had a tasteful French Maid outfit I’d strapped baby bottles to the apron of to be their Milk Maid. Long story short, James went alone because Philip got sick and puked all over me. Anyone need a slightly-used French Maid outfit?

Some of the costumes have been incredibly simple, but I’ve never forgotten them. Some have been from other parties, too, that stuck with me. Here are a few of my personal favorites:

• Hooter’s Waitress: My friend Dwayne pulled this off, complete with the official outfit of tight T, short shorts and tray. But he made himself look elderly, made fake boobies out of panty hose that hung down beneath the cropped top, had in fake teeth and a cigarette with tons of lipstick on it sitting on the tray.
• Bok Choy Man: Literally strapped Bok Choy all over himself. Everyone laughed all night. Sounds stupid, but it was really funny.
• Miss Conception: A girl made herself look pregnant in an evening gown and strapped a beauty queen banner across her chest with Miss Conception in glitter. Brilliant.
• Either Sigfried or Roy: The one that got attacked. Dwayne again. Stuffed an adult-sized Tigger outfit and tied it around his neck, which he covered in blood.
• Drowned Rat: I don’t remember her name, but my friend David went as the little girl from The Ring. Hilarious.
• The Red Hat Society: Dwayne again. Hysterical.
• Missing Pet: There is a Far Side cartoon of a woman posting signs saying Missing Cat: Reward, and the cat is tucked into her crack, that you have probably seen. Two girls had handed out flyers saying Missing Cat and Missing Dog all over the party, but I didn’t get the costume. Until I saw them turn around. They had sewn tiny Beanie Babies into the crack of their pants.
• Brokeback Mountain: Dwayne again. Dressed in cowboy garb and carried a little blowup sheep.
• I did not see this one personally, but heard about it: a friend went as a Hummel figurine, dressed in lederhosen and posed with a basket of roses all night.

Though it would have been funny, I talked James out of one of his best ideas, purely because of logistics. He wanted to go as Dick Cheney. He wanted to buy one of those costumes that’s kind of an inflatable penis. And wrap a chain around it. I have to admit, I couldn’t stop laughing. However, let’s imagine he got pulled over. Or had to pump gas because the car got low. Or stop for beer. Could you imagine just going about your business and seeing that thing climb out of the car next to you? Okay, now I’m about to wet my pants, I’m laughing so hard.

We have been scheming, (“we” meaning me), for months to come up with a good idea. I am open to suggestions. There are four of us, so we can do something relating to one another. CAUTION: Do not suggest the Wiggles if you want to continue living. Actually, that’s not true. Our impending infant daughter, Evelyn, will be a Whoopi Cushion, courtesy of our friend Angela. It’s a warm bunting outfit, very funny. But we may just hire a sitter and go by ourselves, so it’s anyone’s game. I really want Philip to be a garden gnome.

This is what I’ve come up with so far:

• Black Snake Moan: Since I will have given birth less than a month before, I would opt for the Samuel L. wife-beater t-shirt and jeans, making James wear the cropped flag t-shirt and undies, complete with chain.
• Mr. Heat-Miser and Mr. Freeze: This could be really funny to do, and pretty easy to create cheaply on a sewing machine.
• Kermit and Miss Piggy: I would love for James and Philip to do this for the ratio of size. How funny would that be for Philip to be a tiny frog and James to go as Piggy, especially since there is a large chance I’ll be stuck at home with the baby. Comedian David Wain went as Piggy last year and it was brilliant. Also cheap and easy to create.

See, I suck at Halloween. I need Nerdy help. Please suggest all you can and help me not embarrass myself this year at the Halloween party. Or I’ll end up with Dick Cheney at my side, and I’m not sure I can cope with people nudging me in the arm all night saying, “Man, that guy’s such a prick.”