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Blame The Banana.

Last week I made a slight change in my dietary routine in that I added bananas back to the mix. With my ongoing obsession about my health (and no body to show for it), I had been doing some reading on the internet and once again perused the benefits of five servings of fruits and vegetables in the daily diet.

Now I’m not a big banana fan. I enjoy them for the most part, but they create a great deal of stress in my life. You can’t really hide them in the “fruits and vegetables” bin in the refrigerator and then forget about it until that one day a month you clean out your refrigerator. No, they just hang there on a stick in the middle of the kitchen table, reminding you constantly that they are there, awaiting your consumption. The change color slightly, hourly, every precious minute ticking away, one moment closer to their death and your neglience. There’s a lot of stress involved in maintaining bananas. At the grocery store I always look for a bunch of five or less. I’m not one of those whacky shoppers that would pick up a bunch of eight, I’d probably work myself into quite a frenzy from the stress of having to eat eight bananas before they turned black.

Then there’s the whole “banana stomach” affliction. When I started at my job last year, early into the game I ate a banana at my desk for a mid-morning snack. My co-worker asked if I ever suffer from “banana stomach”. Apparently this is something that makes you feel slightly ill, lethargic or gassy. I can’t put my finger on the ailment because I routinely suffer from all three at work.

Anyways, after a long reprive of eating bananas, I jumped on the bandwagon last week in yet another attempt to try to maintain a health lifestyle. Since eating the bananas, I’ve added a couple of pounds to this frame. No more than three. Maybe two. Possibly seven. It’s hard to read the scale when its airborne after having been kicked across the room.

I originally was going to eat bananas only last week and then that would be my fruits and vegetables contribution to my diet until 2007 or so, but Earl did the grocery shopping last weekend and being the love that he is, picked up a bunch of six. So now I have to slurp a banana down every day until Saturday.

Maybe I’ll make them into a milkshake.

Music studio.


Music studio.
Originally uploaded by macwarriorny.

Here’s the music studio in all it’s glory. That’s a genuine platinum record up on the wall – Madonna’s “Ray of Light”. It used to hang in my office when I worked for WOWZ/WOWB (Wow FM).

Haiku, Not Quite, One Koosh Ball.

I’ve added another blog to my ever growing list of daily reading. Shall we have a round of applause for the latest entry to the list, Ms. Rosie O’Donnell.

I was a huge Rosie O’Donnell fan back in the day. Long before her talk show, back when she was doing the stand-up circuit, “Gimme A Break” and other assorted projects. I [ahem] borrowed a few of her jokes for a stand up routine I did back in Jamestown, N.Y. I can still remember the day I discovered her talk show. It was the first or second week, and I was on vacation at a gay campground, back in my rowdy days. I was snoozing in the camper, watching the 7-inch television and there’s Rosie O’Donnell interviewing Diedre Hall. Forget the soap, Rosie wanted to show pictures of Diedre as ElectraWoman (from ElectraWoman and DynaGirl). Two things were confirmed for me at this moment: 1. Rosie has a wicked cool sense of pop culture. 2. Yeah, she’s one of us.

We even had the opportunity to sit in the studio audience of her show during the second season. I was even selected to sing with John Mc D and the Mc DLT’s during the pre-game show with the comic Joey. The experience was fun, but Rosie was a tad bit cranky between segments. A little bit of a wake-up call. Looking back, I guess she was under a great deal of pressure. I do have her autograph, on a thank you letter she sent to me because I sent her a whole box of radio station t-shirts, mix tapes I made and some other music that probably should have gone to a Wow FM listener. Oh well.

As time went on, we kind of lost interest in her show because it was just getting a bit ordinary and a little too political. The whole “we didn’t turn the set around for Barbra” period was kind off odd. We didn’t hang around for the Tom Selleck incident. Then she finally came out of the closet, in a very dignified, respectable manner, may I add and we forgave her and watched the last season of her show.

Then she kind of spazzed out a little bit again but now she’s doing her thing.

Anyways, her blog is kind of hard to read because she has a very unique writing style, but it’s interesting nonetheless. Have a peek.

It’s A Miracle There’s So Many Versions.

I’m tossing around the idea of remixing and remaking the old chestnut “It’s A Miracle” by Barry Manilow. It seems like a respectable project to christen the music studio. I’ve always been a big fan of the track, and I don’t think Will Smith has turned it into a rap track. Thank [insert favorite deity here].

I’m actually chomping at the bit to get working on several music projects I have tossing around in my chaotic head, “It’s A Miracle” being just one of many. But no, I end up sitting here waiting for the last component to come in after being on back-order since the end of the March. It’s an important part, it allows the output of my mixing board to get into my Mac Mini. Kind of crucial.

Anyways, I’m working on getting the song intimately, listening to it over and over on my iPod. (How many men do you know that wants to get intimate with Barry Manilow?) I’ve downloaded every version available on iTunes, and they’re all different. Leave it to Barry to throw out all these different versions.

One of the things I enjoy about Barry Manilow is that he’s a real musician. He actually employs music techniques that I learned in my music theory classes back in college. There’s sensible key changes. There’s a real melody. The counterpoint and tone color. Real instruments. Real backup singers.

And there’s six different versions of this song and I suspect I haven’t snagged them all yet.

Back in 1993, Barry released a remix of “Copacabana”, which was respectively updated to an early 1990s song. He followed up that remix with a lesser-known remix of “Could It Be Magic”. I have a hunch that there’s a remix to “It’s A Miracle” floating around somewhere out there as well.

Another remake that’s really, really cool is “(Keep Feeling) Fascination” by a group called Baxendale. They took a really cool spin on the old Human League classic. I kind of wish the Human League would do something similar with their own song. Did you know the Human League is still alive and kicking? If you’re into iTunes, do a search for “All I Ever Wanted” from their latest album. GREAT TRACK.

Now if I could just get that last component for the studio so I can get my ideas down on the Mac Mini!

In The Dark Of Night.

It was midnight and I was restless. Earl was sleeping peacefully in bed, ‘rattling’ away on cue with his sweet snores of slumber. The sounds of a rain storm was making its presence known on the roof. And I wasn’t in the mood to go to sleep.

What to do.

According to my parents, when I was a baby I didn’t sleep very well until they took me for a ride in their VW Beetle. A quick trip to the village and back and boom, I was asleep.

I guess an Acura RSX will work just as well.

I took a drive to downtown and back. I drove through the two “nightlife” areas and confirmed my suspicions. It’s damn disappointing trying to party on a Saturday night around here. There’s one gay bar, and when I drove by there were a bunch of surly lesbians in front of it. I don’t mean to offend, but I don’t really want to go to a bar full of surly lesbians. It’s ironic to think that when the local Air Force base was open, there were five gay bars here.

The two big(?) hotels had the unmistakeable signs of proms in session. A bunch of limos and young men and women dressed to the nines walking out front. For some odd reason I was reminded of trick or treating. Perhaps it was their choice of attire.

I then drove down Varick Street – the area touted to be full of nightlife, where that Mr or Miss Right is just waiting for you, parallel parked over a dixie cup of cheap draft beer at one of the handful of nightclubs along here. The city is investing a bunch of money into revitalizing the area. It’ll be a prettier arena for all the fistfights when they’re done, apparently.

So I headed back home, finally sleepy, ready to call it a night. I ponder if I’m sleepy because of the driving around or because of the lack of enthusiasm I found while I was out prowling. It’s not that I’m getting old, because we do enjoy going out from time to time. It’s just that at midnight on a Saturday night, Syracuse is too far away to drive on a whim. It takes some planning to coordinate an enjoyable night out, and we’re more of the spontaneous type.

Wake me up when it gets exciting again.

Typical Conversations.

Him: “I hate it when you buy that Tom’s of Maine stuff. The toothpaste tastes terrible.”
Me: “I didn’t buy Tom’s of Maine toothpaste.”
Him: “I just used it upstairs, in the tube lying next to your sink.”
Me: “That’s shaving cream.”
* * *
Me: “I miss Lechmere. Do you remember shopping at Lechmere? Pure heaven. Now we’re stuck with Best Buy and Circuit City. Blech. And while I’m ranting, I miss Hills too.”
Him: “I know, I know.”
* * *
Me: “Is it true that Jon Bon Jovi didn’t do drugs.”
Him: “I’m pretty sure he was clean.”
Me: “Do you think Valerie Bertenelli did drugs with Eddie Van Halen?”
* * *
Me: “Is that guy real shrill?”
Him: “He’s more Kathy Najimy than Lily Tomlin.”
Me: “I guess he’s definitely not a Bea Arthur, then.”
* * *

Hungry After Lunch.

I ate my lunch about 45 minutes ago and I’m hungry already. I’m wondering if this is a normal thing. I don’t recall having these issues when I was successfully losing weight a couple of years ago.

For lunch today I had a turkey sandwich – two pieces of turkey on wheat bread, with a slice of cheese and pickles. I complimented the feast with a pint of iced tea, a deli-style pickle and a handful of peeled baby carrots. It was all very delicious.

I’m now in the mood to eat an entire pound of potato salad.

I’m trying to get my body back “in whack” so that I’m not constantly hungry. Part of it stems from things being a slow at work right now, I suppose. I benchmark my workday with snacks. At 8:30, I get to eat a banana! At 10:00, I get to eat my all-natural rice-crisp bar! At 12:00 I get to eat my lunch!

I should probably find better mileposts to gauge my day.

I am currently resisting the urge to eat the entire bag off tortilla chips that are currently sitting on the kitchen counter, approximately one meter to the right of the stove. The bag is facing up, with the opening of the bag facing the stove. The chips are a “thick” style and a golden in color.

They are currently screaming my name. Not “J.P.”, mind you, but my given name of John. John John JOHN JOHN! I think the chips are using John to let me know that they are serious.

I think I’m going to cave in when I get back to work and drink a diet Pepsi. That’ll put a stop to the hunger rumbles I’m feeling.