First Entry
Oh, the peer pressure. Blog this, blog that. No one should really care what I have to say about this or that. You probably don't. I'm doing this because I am currently drunk. Not really. I want to get back into writing and this seems as good an outlet as any. The fact that I am drunk has nothing to do with it. Well, not much anyway.
OK, here's the scoop. I go by "Dim". Many meanings. An adjective. A movie character. An antonym. Easy to spell.
Here's the first installment of Dimmings.
What is it about semi-bad news that makes people want to be the first one to let everyone know about it? I'm not talking about REALLY bad news, like a family member dying. But semi-bad news. Like someone you've heard about dying.
"Hey, man, did you hear? The dude from Blind Melon OD'ed"
"No, really?"
"Seriously, you didn't hear before now? I'm the first one to tell you?"
"Yeah, what's the big deal?"
"Nothing. Nothing. Are you SURE I'm the first one to tell you this?"
"Dude, shut up. I'm going to go listen to the Bee Girl song."
I'm guilty of this too. The other day, Theo Epstein, General Manager of the Boston Red Sox, unexpectedly quit. This, mere hours after the local rag published a story saying he was signed, sealed and delivered.
As soon as I found this out, out came the DimPhone. I called all three people I knew who would care. First one, Joe. "Are you fucking shitting me???" was his perfect response.
"Yes! I mean, no! I'm not shitting you! But yes! I got to you first!"
Not sure what great sense of accomplishment one gets for breaking semi-bad news stories first. But whatever it was, I got it.
Next up, Pest. Unfortunately, I don't have good a good memory for phone numbers, so I needed to consult the Dim Cellphone, which has a library of numbers stored in it, which completely obliterates whatever miniscule memory of phone numbers I do have. I manage to figure out the fancy contraption and call Pest. He doesn't even say hello.
"Joe just called. He told me."
"Joe? Called you? With the news that I found out? That son of a bitch! Stealing my thunder! I discovered that Theo quit, you hear me! I will have my vengeance!!!"
Luckily, all this was said in my inside voice, or Pest may have called the authorities.
By the time I got to Adam, he was already in the car and heard it on the radio. All major new outlets broke into their regular programming (which I think is pretty much "Dr. Phil" and and re-runs of "That 70's Show"). Billboards were taken out. Goodyear Blimps flashed the news on their gargantuan sides. Even Dr. Phil mentioned it. The air was totally out of my balloon. I could actually hear the muted trumpet play: "wah, wah, wah, wahhhhhh."
So, I did what any other rational person I know would do. Jumped on as many message boards I could with "hey, I hear that Britney and Kevin are having marriage troubles!"
It's not the Blind Melon dude OD'ing, but it'll do for now.
Thems are Dimmings. By the way, I have a problem with brevity. That's some semi-bad news for you. Hot off the presses.
Dim.
Oh, and special props to this guy. A little clue for you all. Yes, the Walrus was Paul, but who is this dude? (No cheating now...pretend your right click button is broken. Unless you are a lefty. Then pretend your left click button is broken. Just pretend your damn mouse is broken. Or not.)
OK, here's the scoop. I go by "Dim". Many meanings. An adjective. A movie character. An antonym. Easy to spell.
Here's the first installment of Dimmings.
What is it about semi-bad news that makes people want to be the first one to let everyone know about it? I'm not talking about REALLY bad news, like a family member dying. But semi-bad news. Like someone you've heard about dying.
"Hey, man, did you hear? The dude from Blind Melon OD'ed"
"No, really?"
"Seriously, you didn't hear before now? I'm the first one to tell you?"
"Yeah, what's the big deal?"
"Nothing. Nothing. Are you SURE I'm the first one to tell you this?"
"Dude, shut up. I'm going to go listen to the Bee Girl song."
I'm guilty of this too. The other day, Theo Epstein, General Manager of the Boston Red Sox, unexpectedly quit. This, mere hours after the local rag published a story saying he was signed, sealed and delivered.
As soon as I found this out, out came the DimPhone. I called all three people I knew who would care. First one, Joe. "Are you fucking shitting me???" was his perfect response.
"Yes! I mean, no! I'm not shitting you! But yes! I got to you first!"
Not sure what great sense of accomplishment one gets for breaking semi-bad news stories first. But whatever it was, I got it.
Next up, Pest. Unfortunately, I don't have good a good memory for phone numbers, so I needed to consult the Dim Cellphone, which has a library of numbers stored in it, which completely obliterates whatever miniscule memory of phone numbers I do have. I manage to figure out the fancy contraption and call Pest. He doesn't even say hello.
"Joe just called. He told me."
"Joe? Called you? With the news that I found out? That son of a bitch! Stealing my thunder! I discovered that Theo quit, you hear me! I will have my vengeance!!!"
Luckily, all this was said in my inside voice, or Pest may have called the authorities.
By the time I got to Adam, he was already in the car and heard it on the radio. All major new outlets broke into their regular programming (which I think is pretty much "Dr. Phil" and and re-runs of "That 70's Show"). Billboards were taken out. Goodyear Blimps flashed the news on their gargantuan sides. Even Dr. Phil mentioned it. The air was totally out of my balloon. I could actually hear the muted trumpet play: "wah, wah, wah, wahhhhhh."
So, I did what any other rational person I know would do. Jumped on as many message boards I could with "hey, I hear that Britney and Kevin are having marriage troubles!"
It's not the Blind Melon dude OD'ing, but it'll do for now.
Thems are Dimmings. By the way, I have a problem with brevity. That's some semi-bad news for you. Hot off the presses.
Dim.
Oh, and special props to this guy. A little clue for you all. Yes, the Walrus was Paul, but who is this dude? (No cheating now...pretend your right click button is broken. Unless you are a lefty. Then pretend your left click button is broken. Just pretend your damn mouse is broken. Or not.)
posted by Dim at 11/03/2005 11:40:00 PM
6 Comments:
So who the hell is this guy? Are you going to tell us, or leave the world hanging? (and yes, I used my right mouse button and discovered he's Warren Clarke, but that didn't help!) Welcome to the blogosphere.
Thanks for the welcome Rusty! Check out Warren Clarke on imdb.com in relation to my name here. It'll let you in on a clue to another of my favorite movies and books.
Perhaps Dalziel and Pascoe? I've never heard of it, which I think is kind of pathetic, since there seem to be dozens of them, and I sort of fancied myself as having a bit of knowledge of British TV. "My Hero" is my guilty pleasure when it comes on public broadcasting Saturday nights.
Ah, my dear Rusty. You have to go WAY down the list of Warren Clarke credits. The truth lies in A Clockwork Orange.
Oooooh. There we go. Apparently he has sunk to the level of "drivel" after his masterpiece.
I've never seen it, but I lived for 4 years with my best friend and roommate (Jenny of Laughing Gas and Ennui) and her very, very strange poster of that movie.
Time and ultraviolence have not been good to Mr. Clark.
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