Dan asks today if comparisons between the Bush administration and the Big Brother rule from 1984 are not so far-fetched after all. Great read.

A fun day was had. Laughed my ass off watching Goldmember, then went to Molloy's Tavern, the beneficent sponsor of my last trivia triumph, to attend a farewell party for Mike, a pal who used to own my favorite deli in South S.F. He and his family have bought a nice-looking B&B in Southern Vermont, and he'll be packing up the moving truck and taking off in a little over a week. Molloy's is a great neighborhood Irish bar – the neighborhood in question being mainly cemeteries, which makes the joint a potential perpetual wake host. I chilled out, rapped with some folks, ate some good grub and had a couple of pints of Guinness while looking at all the old newspaper clippings on the wall (mainly late 19th / early 20th century boxers and Emperor Norton, the first truly eccentric figure in San Francisco's long line of wack jobs). I got nothing done (like memorizing my Caesar lines, for one), but hell, it was an enjoyable day.

Pour some sugar on me... it's on aisle 5, with a special Rollback price.

The Def Leppard 2002 Tour Schedule:

July 27 — Mall of America, Bloomington, MN
July 31 — Wal-Mart Supercenter, Fayetteville, NC
August 5 — Themeland Amusement Park, Stockton, CA (opening for a puppet show)

This is Wildfire Jeopardy!

A: Burn a letter from your estranged husband; scare up some work for the volunteer firefighters; roast weenies, then run like hell.

Q: What are the three most stupid fucking ways to send half the western United States up in flames?

London calling, now don't mention us / phony Clashmania has bitten the dust...

Two successive commercials I just saw on ESPN: a Jaguar spot with "London Calling," and a Smirnoff Ice spot with "Should I Stay or Should I Go?"

What's next, a British Airways commercial set to "I'm So Bored with the U.S.A."? (Perhaps "Train in Vain" for Amtrak if they're looking for domestic travel dough.) A typical jingoistic Fox News ad with "Rock the Casbah" as a music bed? "Guns of Brixton" for an NRA spot? Dare I say, a Coke ad using "Koka Kola"?

This just in: the revolution rock is dead, but enjoy the vodka-flavored malt liquor at its wake.

RIP Leo McKern, my favorite No. 2 from The Prisoner, also well-known for Rumpole of the Bailey. A great character actor who lived a long life. Be seeing you...

For no particularly good reason, except that I laughed my ass off when I first heard it:

Chorus (2x):
It's my dink, it's my dink, it's a magic finger
Pointing at all the pretty girls

Verse:
I can't tell you how it knows
But I can show you how it grows
And just like E.T.'s big finger, it glows!

Repeat Chorus (2x)
Repeat Verse
Repeat Chorus (4x)

— James Kochalka Superstar
"Magic Finger (It's My Dink!)"

Mr. Kochalka, a prolific creator of comics from Vermont, is also the author and performer of such songs as "Kitty in a Coma," "Have You Ever Kissed an Idiot?" and "Bitten to Death by Rats," among others. His songs average about a minute in length, and are hook-laden idiot-savant masterpieces. If I ever make a sitcom, his song "Genius" will be the theme song. He is my hero.

Well, slap my ass and call me Stinky Wizzleteats – Ren and Stimpy are back, and so is John K., the evil genius who created them. I don't think I've laughed any harder than during the Rubber Nipple Salesman episode when they visited the deranged horse. (Speaking of all things Spumco, does anyone else out there miss The Ripping Friends, or am I the only arrested adolescent who watched it on Saturday mornings?) I just hope they get Billy West back to play Stimpson J. Cat. I remember when West was a member of Howard Stern's show, and they brought in John K. as a surprise guest after he had been booted off his own cartoon show. The relationship between the two was a little, er, frosty. Later on, Billy referred to him as "John Koreshfalusi." I hope they've smoothed things over by now. Happy happy, etc. etc.

Been back home for 2 days, still re-acclimating to actual work and such (though telecommuting has made it a much more comfortable process). Sunday was spent having a leisurely brunch of French toast with nectarines, then Hanne and I went to the fantastic American Dime Museum, where the proprietor's cat, Booger, promptly latched onto me and demanded I carry him around for a while, cute feline that he was. If you're in Baltimore, check this place out – it's a great tribute to the classic carnival sideshow.

The trip back was uneventful. The DirecTV on JetBlue cannot be overestimated when it comes to making a 5 ½-hour trip go by quickly. Game Show Network and ESPN worked like a charm, and the tasty sandwich Hanne packed for me made for lovely provisions. I staggered bleary-eyed out of the Oakland terminal at 11 p.m. and sped home, Bad Religion blasting on the stereo to make sure I'd remain awake.

The near future holds Caesar rehearsals, work, and sleep, and that's about it. I sense this blog will have downright scintillating content in the meantime. Zzzzzzzz...

Charm City, Day 4

Today in a nutshell: woke up 10ish, as I was up late using H&M's new DSL line till 2; got a delicious brunch at a cool joint in the funky part of Baltimore called Hampden; admired the sting rays, dolphins, rainforest denizens, and other exotica at the National Aquarium, while hoping the sinus headache I was suffering wouldn't cave my eye sockets in; indulged in a great dinner at Legal Sea Foods in the Inner Harbor – peel and eat shrimp, white clam chowder, soft crab Provencal, finished off by an ultra-decadent piece of warm chocolate pudding cake and vanilla ice cream; watched the A's righteously whoop ass on the O's for 7 innings, then home to rest. If blogging and surfing the web is restful. I'm not sure if it qualifies.

Tomorrow evening I jet back to the Bay Area, hoping the nasty heat wave there will have subsided. In the meantime, it's all free-form. The little I've seen of Baltimore is interesting. As an area, it kind of reminds me of what Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky was, as well as the Southern cities (Birmingham, Memphis, Atlanta) I visited 6 years ago – lots of greenery, lots of brick buildings, suburbs with cookie-cutter McMansions as banal totems of affluence. Is this how the rest of the country is? I'm trying to wrap my brain around that. Does this homogeneity apply to the majority of the big cities in America? Would I move to any of these places if only because the cost of living is so incredibly lower than San Francisco? The questions resonate in my empty skull even now. Mmm, resonation.

A Late-Night Missive from Underground Baltimore

I only say Underground because I'm typing away from Hanne's computer in the office in her basement. (It's a spiffy purple row house with charm to spare.) Day 3 has been splendid: lunch with Lili and David (wherein I learned that Lili can make some, er, interesting shapes with raw pizza dough), then a dinner of pan-fried trout and salmon (along with leftovers from the yummalicious Greek food made last night – Hanne can create these dishes with the mere power of suggestion, and make them sooooo good, while I excel at picking up the prepared foods from my gourmet market), Cherry Garcia covered with peaches for dessert, and finally, a screening of a rough cut of a yet-to-be-released BBW porn movie. (It was interesting, but the music needed to be shitcanned. It was one of those get-a-keyboard-and-a-drum-machine-and-make-cheap-pseudo-electronica soundtracks – the latter-day heir apparent to the wah-wah guitar loops of pornos past. There were so many "whoosing" sound effects, I was half-expecting "Fly Like an Eagle" or "Moving in Stereo" to start up.)

Baltimore has been very pretty in spots (and gritty in others, as befits any cosmopolitan center), and good Lord, actually cooler and more temperate than S.F. right now. I hope to visit the National Aquarium in the Inner Harbor and/or the American Dime Museum before I take off Sunday night. For sure we are paying a visit to Oriole Park at Camden Yards tomorrow evening to catch the Orioles battle the Oakland A's (funny – I haven't seen an A's game at the Coliseum yet this season so I'll be catching them for the first time on the East Coast, just like the first Giants game I caught this year was in freakin' Cincinnati). This breaking tourist news just in: I have yet to taste a Chesapeake Bay blue crab cake, but I hope to accomplish this mission soon. So far, great grub from the Blank/Gin Hopwood y Silva household, tasty Indian cuisine, and hearty Italian fare (complete with a VonSchtupp original phallic dough sculpture – alas, never to be fired in the pizza oven and shown risen to its proper obscene length and girth).

Is there a patron saint especially for fat travelers? If so, they've been keeping a special eye out for me – my flight into Dulles on JetBlue Airways, aka Southwest with Class, went swimmingly – on a pretty full flight, no one sat in the middle seat while I was on the aisle and a fellow was in the window seat. Leather seat, DirecTV... watching ESPN and the Food Network for 5 hours is not a bad way to travel cross-country, I've gotta tell you. Now I just need to pray to the unidentified saint that I don't have to sit in the middle seat I was assigned for the flight back. I don't have rosary beads to rub – uh, I'll think of something to rub. Nyuk nyuk nyuk.

As for that writing thing I was aspiring to do? Uh, forget it. I've been sleeping in, reading The New Yorker, and generally been the layabout I usually am back home. Two more days to chill, then back to the Bay Area, rehearsals for Caesar, and new and hefty projects at the workplace.

Uh, scratch those Caesar roles. Now I'm Casca (another conspirator) and probably one more role to be determined. We had our first rehearsal tonight, where I was told of the switch. Egads. Let's see if any more audibles are called.

It's past 11, my brain is melting from the heat, and I still haven't packed for my trip tomorrow morning to Baltimore. Let's see how little sleep I get tonight. Oy. My kingdom for a swamp cooler and a couple of Tylenol PM.

Whaddaya know, I got cast. In two roles – Metellus Cimber (one of the conspirators who offs Mr. Caesar) and Octavius (Caesar's adopted son and one of the ruling triumvirate). We'll see how it goes. The run starts Sept. 5 in Berkeley. I'll keep you updated.

Bonehead maneuver of the day, week, month, you name it: I had a callback for Shakespeare's Julius Caesar in Berkeley. It's at a theater that's in the basement of a pizza place. So I went to the pizza place – at least I thought it was the pizza place. (My initial audition happened about 2 or so months ago.) It was the pizza place, all right, but the wrong location (they have 2 in Berkeley), so I took off and called the correct location to get directions, as I know fuck-all about Berkeley geography. The helpful gentleman on the phone gave me directions, but he had such a thick accent, I could hardly understand him. By dumb luck, I did get to the right place, and only 10 minutes late. It's hard to gauge how a callback went – unless you've really biffed it, like I did for The Tempest a while ago – but I think I did all right. As always, wait and see.

Tomorrow I get dragged by the family to the corny Corte Madera 4th of July Parade, then back home for a grilled food and alcohol bacchanal. Because if I don't get a burger, wings and a hard lemonade, then dammit, the terrorists have won.

From the Hearing the Sausage Getting Made Dept.: I received pointers on setting up a home studio this evening from David Lawrence on OnLine Tonight. I'm on the 7/1 show, hours 1 and 2. David gives me good practical pointers, recommends equipment, tells me to find a less affected voice for voiceover, and somehow rambles on about his Social Security payout and Pittsburgh Paint & Glass. But he devoted 90 minutes to me on national radio. What a mensch. Now I need to scrape together $2K to blow on a Neumann mic. Eeeek.