I am the Lizard King...I can do anything...

I’m not the Lizard King, but Jim Morrison was before he kicked the eternal baguette. He died in Paris in July of 1971...just two months after I was born. If I had known then I would’ve tried to convince my parents to take me to one of his concerts. But it probably would’ve sounded like this: Googabaga burfamalapooga. And so naturally my parents would’ve figured I was trying to utter one of their names instead of begging them to fly me to Paris to watch the Doors perform their final concert.

And because I lacked a coherent vocabulary at two months (not to mention clairvoyance) my only option was to wait until adulthood and visit Jim’s grave at the Père-Lachaise cemetery in Paris. It’s a pretty modest grave for the American Poet—a thief stole the marble bust that used to sit atop the headstone—and it’s surrounded by a bunch of dead people Jim never knew. Grumpy French security officers guard the site throughout the day and night, as it has become a popular hang out for those daring enough to sneak into the cemetery late at night to party with the Rock God. Once I witnessed a teenage girl sobbing over his grave, her tears spilling onto the piles of joints left by fans.

This particular time I was with Petra. It was my fourth visit with Jim, but it was the first picture I ever got. You see, I was cursed the other three times. The first time, I was with my friend Marc and when he snapped the picture there was a feeble little click and the film began to rewind; naturally, the picture never came out. The second time I had a camcorder. And as I was approaching Jim’s grave, with the film rolling, the battery died. And the third time I was with my friend Maki (see The Old Gang) and once again I had my camcorder. As I was getting ready to film the grave, a French officer shouted: “Ne filmez pas ici!” No filming here!

But on this day in October of 2001, just one month after 9/11, I found Jim’s grave virtually empty of people. I checked the camera—the batteries were working, there was plenty of film, and the French officers looked away with little interest. I knelt beside Jim’s grave while Petra steadied the camera. And thirty years after Jim’s death and my birth, I got my picture with the Lizard King.

By the way, the Greek inscription at the bottom of the headstone reads: KATA TON DAYMONA FAYTOY. FIGHTING THE DEVIL WITHIN.

Painful Excerpts From A Tenth Grade World History Class...

(one day)

Me: Why aren’t you doing your work?

Bryan: I’m lazy.

Me: So, you’re willing to sacrifice forty points?

Bryan: (shrugs) Yeah, pretty much.

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(today)

Bryan: Did you know I’m a pyromaniac?

Me: No, but I remember you told me you were lazy once. Are you gonna set fire to your house and be too lazy to escape?

Bryan: (laughs) Maybe...

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(today)

Me: I told you to leave six spaces between each term. You only left one space. Now how are you going to fit your summary in?

Trent: I write small.

Me: Well, for the sake of my eyes erase and follow the directions.

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(today) – during group share

Me: (to group 5) Alright, why is it so quiet over here? Which term are you guys on?

Jessica: Coup d’état

Me: Great. So who’s sharing that word?

Jessica: Abel, but he’s absent.

Me: So, why don’t you go on to the next one?

(blank stares)

Jessica: Can we?

Me: Well, yeah. Unless you’re telepathic.

Jessica: What’s that?

Me: Never mind. Just skip coup d’état for now.

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Me: (to the class) So why do you guys think Great Britain had such a powerful navy?

Someone: They had lots of ships.

Me: Yes, that’s true. And why do you suppose they built so many ships? Don’t forget, Great Britain is basically a large island, separate from continental Europe.

Several students: It is??

Me: DOH!

Intelligent Design?

Except for that "made in His image" deal.

Sunday Morning...

Well, as you might have guessed, I didn’t win the big one. But I did win 2 bucks. Yep. I got the Mega Number and one additional number. So I took my little orange ticket to the Johnny Quik and exchanged my winnings for two scratchers. Unfortunately those turned out to be a huge let down. No moola pour moi.

But during the three hours leading up to the Lotto results I was on cloud nine. I spent those blissful moments scouring the net for a nice home to buy in southern France—I had a difficult time deciding whether to live on the Mediterranean or the Atlantic. Contrary to popular belief, the Mediterranean (at least on the French side) is freeeeezing. I found that the Atlantic is much warmer. I think it has something to do with the warm waters streaming from the Caribbean.

Holy tangent Batman!

Anyway, I didn’t win squat. So both the Atlantic and the Mediterranean beach houses are out for the moment. Maybe I can afford a little box next to a sewage drain in Paris. Ahh how the sound of sewage crashing against the curb at night stirs the soul.

Saturday Night...

I’m sitting here cruising the net, drinking coffee out of my super cool Jim Morrison mug, and thinking, Hey, it’s freakin’ Saturday night. What am I doing just sitting around? I should be out there playing the Lotto.

So in a few minutes I’m gonna put on my walking shoes and head on over to Johnny Quik. I think I’ll buy five—I’ll choose my own numbers on two and then quick pick the other three.

Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. So over the next three hours, until the numbers come up, I’ll just sit around and imagine what my life will be like once I’m a millionaire....

Which Sci-Fi Character Are You?

I thought this was pretty cool.

Click over to TK421.net, answer a few questions, and find out which Sci-Fi character you are.

I'm Samwise Gamgee:

A brave and loyal associate full of optimism, you remain true to your friends and their efforts, to whatever end.

But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer.

Samwise is a character in the Middle-Earth universe. You can read more about him at TheOneRing.net.

Kiddie Konversations…

10th grade World History (not that it matters)

Zach: I can’t believe you’re a vegetarian. Don’t you know if you don’t drink the cow’s milk they’ll explode?

Sabrina: Yuck. I don’t like milk.

Zack: …because you’re a vegetarian…that’s stupid…

Sabrina: So…

Zack: So lots of cows are dying because of you…

Me: What’re you guys talking about?

Zack: She’s a vegetarian.

Me: Ahh, so that’s why you don’t drink milk.

Sabrina: I don’t like milk.

Me: You drink soy?

Sabrina: (nods) yeah

Zack, Ryan, Stephanie: Yuck! That’s sick.

Me: I have a friend who’s a vegan and once I was staying at her house and I had to put soy milk in my coffee instead of cream.

Zack: Yuck!

Sabrina: Did you like it?

Me: (grimacing) Not really…but I had a boca burger once and it wasn’t that bad.

Zack: You really ate one of those things…?

Me: Yeah, you should try it.

Zack: No way…I only eat cows.

Sabrina: (to me) He lives on a farm.

Me: Really? (to Zack) Do you have cows?

Zack: No, but we have horses and chickens and stuff…

Me: Chickens? Uh-oh, you better be careful.

Everyone: Why?

Me: Well, haven’t you heard about the bird flu?

(looks of confusion)

Me: It’s a flu that’s going around that you can catch from birds.

Zack: So what does it do?

Me: It kills you.

Zack: WHAT? Are you serious?

Me: Yeah. You know you’ve got it when you wake up in the morning and start going BAGOK BOK BOK BOK BAGOK…

(laughter)

Stephanie: Is that for real?

Me: No, I’m kidding. The bird flu’s real but you won’t start chirping or anything. Anyway, you guys better get back to work…err…something...

Quote of the Week...

Saddam Hussein argues with the judge on the first day of his trial:

"Who are you? What does this court want?"

Uh...like didn't your lawyer clue you in?

Defiant and delirious, Saddam gets a bit random:

"Have you ever been a judge before?"

What is this, an interview? Have you ever been sane before?

And here's my favorite:

"What is based on injustice is unjust ... I do not respond to this so-called court, with all due respect."

Welcome to another celebrity trial.

BTW, here's the story for those interested.

Purple Fingers Unite!

Iraqis are voting! Despite the fear of being blown to bits by insurgents who want to disrupt the democratization of Iraq. What courage these people have to defy the bullies that are lurking amongst them. One woman walked three hours to vote YES to approve the constitution. I’m so proud, can you tell?

So if the constitution is approved (which in all likelihood it will be) then Iraq’s government will be decentralized. A system of federalism will be created in which three states are formed under one moderate government based in Baghdad. The Kurds in the north, the Shiites in the south, and the Sunnis who occupy the center of Iraq.

The initial, and, to a degree, continued objection to the constitution is over this idea of federalism. This is coming almost entirely from the Sunni side and is, in my opinion, completely understandable. You see, the oil rich areas of Iraq are located in the south and the north, which pretty much means no oil money for the Sunnis, who were the former recipients of such wealth under Saddam Hussein.

But at the last minute a few changes were made to the constitution—an equal distribution of oil money—and a decent portion of Sunnis decided to vote YES to approve the constitution. But the awesome part is that even a great number of those who don’t want the constitution to be approved still came out to vote NO. So, in other words, democracy is already at work in Iraq!

There were only twenty attacks on polling places compared to more than a hundred last time the Iraqis came out to vote. In some predominantly Sunni regions there was an 80 percent turnout. AWESOME! Even if they are voting NO. You know it just chaps the insurgents’ hides to witness the Iraqis ignoring their threats and participating in these “heathen” sponsored elections. Snicker, snicker.

Unless… You see, formalizing a constitution also means that the U.S. is one step closer to pulling its soldiers from Iraq. So, one could argue that the insurgents actually do want the constitution to be approved. That way once America has gone home they can turn the heat up on the new government. Nevertheless, the Iraqis are doing exactly what is needed to move forward. And for that, I’m proud.

C'est moi, le Nutty Professor...

A few minutes ago I pulled the longest, stiffest nose hair out of my nose. Seriously, I could’ve picked a deadbolt with that sucker. I was so impressed that I had to share it with all of you. I love getting rid of nose hairs—they’re so annoying. And the older I get the more malicious they become...poking me and making my eyes water.

Coarse eyebrow hairs are also fun to exterminate. I think when I start teaching high school I’ll leave them be, that way I’ll exude the Nutty Professor stereotype.

Nerds-R-Us...

Makoto and Sydney are about to have a baby boy. Two months away! So the baby shower was yesterday at Syd’s parents’ house. While the women were playing games and giggling over baby toys, Makoto, Jack, and I were hanging out at Starbucks chewing the fat. It had been a long time since the three of us were together: Two years!

While we were drinking our coffees and reminiscing about the old days, there was one thing at the back of our minds: Mario Kart. The Nintendo 64 version, of course. You see, in the old days, the three of us (and Marc, who now lives in France) used to get together every Friday night and have massive Mario Kart marathons. But now we’re all grown up and living in different cities, so three hour Mario Kart marathons are virtually impossible.

That is until the baby shower.

So we were all set. Almost. I brought my N64 console but none of us had the Mario Kart cartridge. Well, college education wasn’t wasted on us—we went to Blockbuster Video to rent one. Boy were we surprised to discover that they no longer rented out N64 games. So there we were, three 30 somethings, standing in the middle of a Blockbuster looking as though an elephant had just pissed on our parade.

There would be no Mario Kart Marathon.

That’s when Jack reminded us that his wife, Natalie, was three months pregnant and that they would have the baby shower in January. And then Makoto suggested that we plan it out better to make sure we have the game and the console ready. Then Jack said they might even have two baby showers—one in Fresno and one in Morro Bay.

Yes! Two guaranteed Mario Kart Marathons coming right up!

Now all I have to do is find a wife, get her pregnant, and boy oh boy fun times ahead!

You Will Be...Simulated?

In Mr. Leonard’s class we divided the kids into the social classes that existed at the time of the French Revolution (1789). So as the kids were walking through the door we handed them sheets of paper with instructions describing who they were and what was expected of them.

Five students became Clergy members; four were Lords. We had a Louis XVI and a Marie Antoinette (both of whom would—literally—lose their heads soon after the cry of Revolution). One kid was made Controller General, aka the Tax Collector. The rest of the students were Peasants.

Each of the four Lords had a chair to sit in, while his lowly peasants sat on the floor around him. The clergy were given nice, cushy seats against the back wall. The King and Queen sat in their “thrones” at the head of the class.

Mr. Leonard instructed the Peasants to cut a blank sheet of paper into twenty small squares, on which they were to draw a symbol for wheat. The process took about fifteen minutes and was filled with groans of disgust and misery.

“How come the Lords don’t have to do anything?”

“What’s wheat good for anyway?”

“Don’t you know what bread is?”

“Yeah, so.”

“Well that’s wheat.”

“Why do we have to do this?” one kid asked me, looking as though he’d just swallowed a smelly fart.

“Why, is it annoying to you?” I responded with a question.

“Yeah,” he groaned.

“Well, now you know what it was like to be a peasant.”

Once the peasants had finished drawing and cutting, they were ordered to hand over all their work to the Lord. Mr. Leonard then instructed the Controller General to collect 50% of all the food pieces.

“What d’you mean?” the kid asked.

“Go and take 50% of all the wheat squares from each Lord and give it to the King and Queen.”

“Is that like ten?” the kid asked.

“50%,” Mr. Leonard repeated, a look of uncertainty etched across his face. “You know...half of everything they have.”

Still looking confused, the Controller General ambled over and stood apprehensively in front of the Lord, who was meticulously counting his food squares. I walked over to assist.

“Do you understand what 50% means?” I asked the Controller General in a hushed tone.

He shook his head.

Oh boy. “Just take half of everything he’s got.” We’ll save the math lesson for another day. That is, if I don’t hang myself first.