Before I Sleep

You'll See: THREE

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 16:15:00 +0000

After two years of making movies for New Year's, Matt decides he is too mature to sing and frolic with Nate and Donnie. Devastated, the two attempt to make this year's movie without him... with HILARIOUS results. Will their attempts at movie making be successful? Will Matt ever sing or frolic again? You'll see...

Today's Practical Joke

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:45:00 +0000

I give a stack of letters to my secretary, with directions to have these copied and given to Gary so he could take them to the Copyright Office. "So you want these to go to the FCC?" she asks. "No," I repeat, "Copyright Office."

An hour later Gary stops by my office, where a partner is giving me an unrelated assignment.

Gary: The lady at the FCC said she didn't really know what these were about but she took them anyway.

Matt: FCC? (look of shock and horror) ...COPYRIGHT OFFICE!

Gary: Uh oh.

...Gary breaks into laughter. The partner cracks up, and gives him a high five.

Partner: Did you see his face turn all red!

They walk out of the office, laughing.

Rudy Loves to Cuddle!

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Sun, 14 Dec 2008 20:06:00 +0000

Rudy in high def!

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 19:31:00 +0000

A Special Kind of Warrior

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 21:18:00 +0000

My housemate Christen calls me from CVS and asks if I need anything. I respond that I am almost out of deodorant.

Christen: What scent do you want?
Matt: I don't know... it's so hard to describe.
Christen: How about "Ocean"?
Matt: No! Not ocean. Rain, maybe. Something bluish.
Christen: Well what do you want to smell like?
Matt: I want to smell like a warrior.
Christen: A warrior, hmm.
Matt: The kind of warrior who would run through a field of flowers after a victorious battle.
Christen: So you want to smell like flowers.
Matt: NO! Not a warrior who smells like flowers; a warrior who would run through a field of flowers. That's what I want to smell like.
Christen: (uncontrollable laughter)
Matt: Do you understand the distinction?
Christen: Yes, and that's why I'm laughing so much!

Classic Dialogue from October 7, 2005

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 07:03:00 +0000

(In the car.)

Matt: "I'm not coming back here when I graduate."
Katherine: "That's okay. I'm moving away."
Elizabeth: "I'm leaving too."
Mom: "You can all go to hell!"

A Good Throw

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 15:36:00 +0000

In honor of Halloween, BeforeISleep.net today presents a spooky story I wrote back in 2003. Well, it's the beginning of a spooky story. I never actually got around to continuing it. But looking back on it, it reads pretty well. Shall I keep going?

They didn’t even bother to kill the baby before throwing it overboard. The tides would do that, they figured. Babies can’t swim. He’ll just bob up and down a bit and then sink to the bottom. Why waste more resources on an experiment that had already failed?

So they didn’t. Tonight’s submersion was the third in a week, and very likely the first of hundreds. The task fell to Guido. He and the other shipmates had drawn straws, and his was the shortest, so he got to do the dirty work. And not just once or twice; every time. Whenever there were three arms and no legs, or two heads but not a single brain between them, Guido was the official Tossin’ Man. Funny thing, though – he didn’t mind it. The boys decided to draw straws because no one was really begging for the job. They weren’t heartless, after all. Nobody liked to see the babies thrown overboard, and no one really wanted to do it. But it had to be done – Capo explained there was no other way. The first time, Guido was shaking so badly he was barely able to grab onto the kid.

Ah, the first time. No one knew exactly what to expect. The actual toss wasn’t so bad; it took no more than a few seconds, just a short arc from the boat to the waves. No, the worst part was watching the kid, seeing him float there, his baby fat keeping him above water for a few minutes longer than you’d think. No one really wanted to watch, but each man was glued to his spot, hypnotized, watching the fat little head bob up and down until no one could see it anymore.

Everybody watched but two. Soon as he threw, Guido turned his back on the ocean and looked at the Capo. Capo looked back at him, jaw set, eyes wide and unblinking. The two were about ten feet apart, just looking at each other, while the baby screamed behind them. It was the worst sound you ever heard, the doomed baby’s screams. It wasn’t a regular cry. It was as though the baby knew it was going to die, and was begging for its life. Only it didn’t know any words, so all it could do was scream as loudly and painfully as it could, and hope someone would take pity on it and jump into the water after it.

After a few minutes, the painful screaming became a kind of muffled gurgle. Then it stopped.

When the baby really was gone, Guido turned away from the Capo and went down to his cabin. He wouldn’t come out for days; just asked for food to be left outside his door. Strict as Capo was, he didn’t even mind the absence much – even he realized how much Guido must hurt. But then, about a week later, Guido was back at his post as if no time had passed. When the boys asked him if he was all right, he just laughed.

“What do you mean, Angelo, you think the waves are making me sick? I told you, I got used to the rocking weeks ago.”

Alfonso looked around at those who had heard. “No, Guido,” he said. “The baby. The… last week.”

Guido’s eyes grew wide, and he smiled so broadly that the rest of his face seemed to tighten up to make room. “A good throw, wasn’t it?”

Angelo didn’t know how to react. It was one thing to do the deed; quite another to laugh about it. It was a solemn task, a burden to shoulder in the name of progress. No one’s sense of humor should be that twisted.

Angelo half smiled, and nodded his head. Guido nodded back at him, and went back to his clipboards, transferring numbers from one board to the other. Angelo eyed him warily, and slowly turned back to his workstation, adjusting his monitors and firing up the gene program.

It was a few minutes before Guido spoke again. “Did you hear him shriek when I spun him around?”

Angelo and the others looked up. “What are you talking about?”

“It was a good shriek,” Guido said, reliving the moment in his head. “Kind of a laugh. Like we were playing.”

A burly man next to them spoke up. “You didn’t spin him, Guido,” he said in a calm voice. “The baby didn’t laugh. He didn’t know what hit him.”

Guido stared at him. Slowly, the grin faded from his face, but the eyes stayed wide. “No,” he said. “No, I suppose I didn’t. I should have spun him.”

Word spread about Guido’s strange sense of humor, and from that point on nobody brought up the subject around him. When time came to dispose of the next one, Guido was in high spirits. As he stood by the stern, cradling the baby in his arms to stop it from crying, the Capo began to speak.

“Look at the moon,” he said. “Look at the stars!” There was silence as the crew stared at him. Waves crashed against the hull. “Our ancestors used to believe the stars were gods, and those gods could smile upon us, bringing us good fortune if they were pleased” – he looked at Guido – “and bad fortune if they were not. It all sounds so foolish from our modern perspective, doesn’t it? Stars as gods.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “And yet… maybe not so foolish, if you think about it. We have learned so much in just the past few years about how things work. Powers unimaginable have been granted to us, and why?”

He paused, waiting for someone to answer him. No one did.

“Because we were foolish enough to think the impossible!” He turned to Guido. “We were foolish enough to take part in this years-long endeavor, to enhance Nature herself! And, my friends, we are so close. So close.” There were nods of agreement as he said this.

“So,” he continued, “I will ask you what I asked Guido: Now that we are so close to realizing this wonderful dream we share, do not turn away in disgust at some of the more… unfortunate aspects of the program. Some of you have voiced concern about our chosen method of disposal. I have explained to you that it is the most… humane… option available. But even my assurances have left some of you unconvinced.”

He looked down at his boots, which glistened in the moonlight. “I can offer you no more assurances, so I will offer you a possibility.” He looked up. “Our science tells us stars are nothing more than balls of burning hydrogen. But what if our science is only half right? We scientists are very good at explaining how things work… but why things work? That, my friends, is for the priests. Why do the stars shine? Perhaps the gods are behind it. And if the gods really can bring us good fortune, then think of this not as a disposal – but as an offering.”

He motioned to Guido, who walked toward the water and lifted the baby above his head. This one was an exceptionally odd result. All its limbs were intact, all internal systems present and functioning normally. Indeed, aside from a slight ridge on its frontal cranium, a casual bystander might notice nothing amiss. Yet the deformity quickly becomes clear to anyone who tries to interact with the child. From the beginning, the instruments measured absolutely no brain activity, even though physically, the organ was in perfect condition. All his organs were perfect. His brain was large, his heart strong. His blood circulated and his lungs functioned normally – indeed, every system worked.

Every system but the most important: its consciousness. Amazing, Capo once intoned, how the aspect that is the most important, the most definitive of being human, is not recognized in the textbooks. Circulatory system, respiratory system, reproductive system – and yet no awareness system. Without that, a human is just a collection of machinery. It might function, but the resulting product is less a human being than a flesh-and-bone robot.

We may produce many like that, he told his crew. The technology to clone parts is not necessarily the technology to clone the sum of the parts. We will end up with parts. If we’re lucky, they will be arranged in a manner fitting a human being, and in appropriate numbers. Anything grander… will require a miracle.

As yet, no miracles had been granted. There was such hope over this one – he was as beautiful a clone as Capo could have imagined. He looked just like the picture Capo had placed on every display’s desktop. Sans beard and moustache, he was the spitting image of Capo himself – about 50 years younger, of course.

But his mind was empty. There were no cries when they cut it from its mother’s womb. It was, for all intents and purposes like a brain-dead child. A brain-dead child who should not have been. Perhaps this one will help show the men how humane our disposal process really is, Capo thought.

Guido stood, looking out over the waters. It was a calm night, but a storm was on its way. In the distance the sky was gray with impending doom, angry clouds rolling toward them, slow and confident. He turned the baby so it faced him, its large blue eyes open, yet strangely distant. Guido looked out at the two dozen men circling him, and smiled. He looked back up at the baby, still held firmly above his head, and smiled even wider. With a great heave and a loud yell, he hurled the creature into the sea. It splashed as it entered the peaceful waters, and disappeared under the water. Within seconds, it had bobbed back up, its face holding steady just above the surface.

Guido leaned over the stern, looking down at the baby, disbelieving. “Start crying!” he yelled.

“He won’t,” Capo said quietly. “He doesn’t react, you know that.”

“Not to stimulus in the lab, but this is different! The sea is stronger.”

“And the baby’s mind is just as detached as it has been for days. He feels nothing.” He turned to the crew, his voice louder now. “You see? He feels nothing! He will be swept away to a peaceful end. Those who can feel can tell no difference between this” – he motioned to the water – “and their mother’s womb! The submersion is quick and completely painless. A simple sleep that ends their troubles and ours.”

Guido had a look of disgust. “Damn shame,” he said. He turned from the sea and stormed down the steps.

Capo and the other men stood in place, watching him go, listening to his footsteps. When, in the distance below them, they heard a cabin door slamming, they turned back to the sea. The baby was farther out now, about thirty feet away, still silent. He was being carried away at a meandering clip by the light current, and he seemed neither to notice nor to care. The night was cool and beautiful, bright stars dotting the sky, undimmed by human dealings. The light breeze was becoming stronger, and the baby was quickly carried twice as far out. Far to the east, the crew saw flashes of lightning, and many seconds later heard nearly silent rumblings. Capo turned from the sea and walked to the stairs, descending below. One by one, the crew turned and followed.

The silent baby was a hundred feet out now, barely visible. And still, it bobbed up and down in the water, as the waves grew taller and the ship began to rock.

* * *

My Superhero Name is "The Green Triangle"

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 06:47:00 +0000

You may ask, is it hard for me to lose all this weight? The answer is, no. Once you find a rhythm that you can live with, it's no big deal at all.

Mobile post sent by DCTenor1 using Utterli. Replies. mp3

Now that's a good compromise

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Wed, 22 Oct 2008 15:18:00 +0000

Matt: I figure if the federal gov't is going to take a stronger role than in the past, they might as well do it right. I know money won't fix everything, but by god, I'd rather spend $15B on helping our nation's schools than on building another bomber.

Ryan: No no, I want the bomber. It's cooler.

Matt: How about we compromise?

Ryan: Ok, we can hold classes in my bomber.

An Interspieces Battle for Domination!

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 03:31:00 +0000

See what happens when Matt figures out how to get the dogs to play tug of war against each other...

O'Reilly's Interview with Obama: The Democrats are in Trouble

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 01:29:00 +0000

Say what you want about O'Reilly; he's a pitbull of an interviewer. Today he pressed Obama on the Surge and Iran. The results were not good for Obama supporters.

Obama acknowledged the success of the surge but claimed it exceeded the wildest expectations of even Bush and McCain. (I don't see how that's a bad thing.) He would not, however, admit that he was wrong in voting against it. In the process he missed a great opportunity for powerful rhetoric.

O'Reilly: "If we had listened to you, we wouldn't have had a surge and we wouldn't be winning the war!"
Obama (fire in his eyes): "If you had listened to me, we wouldn't NEED a surge because we wouldn't have STARTED this war in the first place!"

Now that's the Obama I love. Unfortunately, that Obama doesn't exist. Obama did not say that; there was no fire. He smiled and hemmed and hawed and said, "Well, we still are paying $12 billion a month on Iraq and..."

This remains an unpopular war among most of the American public and Obama needs to turn up the rhetoric. He would do well to remind us that we wouldn't be in this mess if he had been in the White House. (We might be in other messes, but not this one.) From what I've seen, it appears that as great as he is in a prepared speech, he isn't very good at extemporaneous speaking. Biden is amazing at it and that will help offset Obama's stilted responses, but Biden's not the guy who would be the commander in chief.

O'Reilly next moved on to Iran, and asked specifically what Obama plans to do. What happens if diplomacy doesn't work? Does he think military action is likely? Obama was quite evasive. He responded that, as a candidate for president, it's "not appropriate" for him to "tip his hand" regarding the direction he's going to go in Iran. Excuse me? You're not going to tip your hand? This isn't a Supreme Court nomination hearing, Obama, you are supposed to tell us what you're going to do. Eventually he gave his same old "all options are on the table" answer, but with no specifics.

Upon the conclusion of the interview, my first reaction was that Obama is going to lose. In any moderated debate with McCain, McCain will use forceful rhetoric about the need to use military force and confront our enemies. McCain will have fire in his eyes. Obama is, as usual, going to be very introspective, Kerry-like in his desire for nuance. It's not going to play well among the undecideds who agree the world is a very dangerous place.

Live Responses to the Palin Acceptance Speech

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 03:58:00 +0000

Ok, I'm going to be live-tweeting the Palin speech and compiling it into a blog post later. First impressions: My oh my that is a VPILF.
So that's what an Alaskan accent sounds like. Sounds vaguely like southern Ohio. Now she's playing the mom-of-soldier card.
Now she's playing the ADORABLE daughter card. I still think Bristol Willow Piper sounds like a consulting firm.
Her husband is an Eskimo fisherman snowmobile racer. Now there's a selling point.
Ha! LIPSTICK! Hahahahahah! :-\
Everyone's dissing Obama's "community organizing." I'm really curious how Palin is going to spin her mayoral "responsibilities."
She's been talking for 10 minutes and hasn't said a word about her accomplishments -- just introduced family and bashed Obama.
You do NOT want to talk about "leaving this nation better than we found it." 8 years of Dubya have not left this nation better than before.
I'd like to show Palin my oil pipeline.
Sorry, was overcome by VPlust. She knows about oil and I tend to agree that we should use the power we got until we get the power we want.
Man oh man does Palin give good rhetoric.
Palin, if John McCain were truly a maverick, you wouldn't be standing there.
Listen, McCain is a patriot and yes he was a prisoner of war. I respect him. But that is not a major qualification to be president. Sorry.
Good speech. MUCH better speaker than McCain. She seems pleasant enough. The American Everywoman. Not much substance though; lotta sarcasm.
Bottom line: i like her a lot. She seems like a great person. She is not qualified to be my president.
I'm looking forward to the debates. Obama will wipe the floor with McCain. The real exciting one will be Biden vs. Palin. Game on!

Palin is the most unqualified vice presidential pick in the history of modern elections

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 15:44:00 +0000

Okay. Even if I were still considering McCain, his choice of the most unqualified, unvetted runningmate in the history of modern presidential politics would completely turn me off.

McCain meets her twice: at a governor's conference, and on the day he offers her the job. No one in Alaska had received any calls inquiring into Palin's background. The "vetting" process was almost certainly a quick Google job. I am not confident about a presidential candidate who doesn't do any real research before picking the second-in-command.

And McCain, who has a history of skin cancer and other ailments, had a father who died at 70 -- two years younger than McCain is now. There is a significant chance he could die in office, or become incapacitated. And then what? Palin named her kids Trig, Track, Willow, Bristol and Piper. I don't trust that woman's judgment at all. And she raised a daughter whose values apparently did not preclude having unprotected sex and getting pregnant in high school. Way to go, mom! So much for conservative values (other than her pastime of hunting caribou and encouraging the teaching of Creationism alongside Evolution in SCIENCE CLASS).

What does this pick say about McCain's judgment?
And do we really think Palin is qualified to stare down Putin?

Word has it McCain really wanted Lieberman but decided against him because he didn't poll well. Yeah, real maverick.

Sorry, I'm just pretty annoyed at the direction the Republicans are going. Can someone please tell me why Palin is a good pick? I smell another Harriet Miers

Racism is NOT the only reason Obama might lose

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 16:19:00 +0000

Sometimes I think Slate.com writers intentionally offer the most illogical, unsupported arguments, solely to increase their number of page views. Take this article from one Jacob Weisberg, arguing that racism is the only conceivable reason why Obama might lose the presidency.

Weisberg begins with the premise that Obama is the perfect choice that every non-racist would vote for. With such a ridiculous premise, of course the only logical answer that follows for his neck-and-neck standing in the polls is RACISM!

But the fact is, just because the country is sick of Bush policies doesn't mean they believe McCain will simply continue them. Despite the left wingers' cries of "Bush McCain," much evidence exists to suggest McCain is in fact his own man. People may prefer McCain's experience to Obama's lack thereof. People may still generally prefer conservative, small government principles, to liberal, big government principles.

In short, there are many reasons why McCain and Obama are neck and neck. Simply put, they both offer good policies that appeal to conservatives and liberals, respectively. The country is roughly equally divided between conservatives and liberals. So we get tied poll numbers.

I am not arguing that racism doesn't exist. There is clearly a small percentage that would never vote for Obama because of his skin color. But that is absolutely not the main reason for the current poll numbers.

Sitting outside with Rudy!

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 04:43:00 +0000

Perpetual Motion Machine!

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 00:01:00 +0000

Retarded Segway, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

Certain early Segway models had the ability to virtually "park" themselves, remaining upright even when no one was on them. The Segway i2, however, likes to keep going forward. The frequent result? A slightly demented Segway. Enjoy.

(PS - The Anthony referred to at the end of the video is actually a genius with an IQ likely higher than everyone viewing the video. We just like to make fun.) :-)

Well, at least I'm not as narcissistic as I used to be...

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 16:19:00 +0000

Personality Disorder Test Results

Paranoid	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	38%
Schizoid	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	66%
Schizotypal	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	66%
Antisocial	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Borderline	\|\|\|\|\|\|	22%
Histrionic	\|\|\|\|\|\|	26%
Narcissistic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	62%
Avoidant	\|\|\|\|	14%
Dependent	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	38%
Obsessive-Compulsive	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%

Take Free Personality Disorder Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

I'll come back to elaborate on these test results, but considering I got basically the same scores as Skwigg, I consider myself in pretty good company. ;-)

Product Review: Best Electric Shave I've Ever Had

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 02:12:00 +0000

For the last 15 years (i.e. my entire shaving life), I have used Norelco shavers. When the battery on my last one would no longer hold a charge, I decided to try something new, and purchase the Panasonic ES8043SC Pro-Curve Pivot Action Linear Wet/Dry Shaver. Materials in the box caution users to "Please Stick With It. It's Worth it." They say my skin and beard need 30 days to adjust. Okay. Expectations duly lowered, I turned the shaver on, was momentarily surprised by the high frequency buzz that comes with 13,000 oscillations a minute, and ran the shaver down my cheek.

WOW.

Folks, this shaver has produced an EXTREMELY close shave, with no irritation at all, and no uncomfortable pulling sensation that Norelco's "lift and cut" method sometimes produces. This rivals a straight blade in terms of closeness-of-shave, and is without a doubt the best shave I've ever gotten from an electric shaver -- and I'm sure it will produce even better results as my skin and beard "adjust." (I haven't even tried it with shaving cream and water yet -- and I'm told that produces an even closer shave.)

I was hesitant to switch from the trusty Norelco 3-headed shavers to this foil shaver. But I'm SO glad I did. And you can bet I'm going to tell my family about this. It was my dad who introduced me to Norelcos all those years ago. It's about time I introduce him to the Panasonic. :-)

iPhone Woes - Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 15:22:00 +0000

My loyal readers have been complaining that I have not updated my web site in a long time. This is true. The reason is because I have been busy with work and other things that take up my time. And when i have a few hours at home, I would rather spend it relaxing with a book or friends or a show than updating my blog.

That said, I have decided that my Blog has indeed languished for far too long, and I am going to spend the next several days explaining to everyone who stumbles upon this place why I am going to return my iPhone 3G.

Yep, you heard me. I have a new shiny iPhone 3G (which I stood in line for hours to acquire), and after putting it through its paces for a couple weeks, I have decided to return it. Over the course of the next several days, you will find out why.

(FYI, I am culling all of these entries from e-mail conversations that I have had with friends.)

We begin with:

IPHONE INEFFICIENCY - Part I

SO IN ADDITION TO the difficulty of typing and the lack of mms and no selecting/copy/paste tools and complete inability to multitask and the shitty battery that dies halfway through the day unless I keep it plugged in all the time, I have also come to realize that I really miss the lack of a status light on the device. Without a light, there is no way for me to know at a glance whether I have new email or text messages; I have to turn the device on, unlock it, and go into the mail program or home screen -- there isn't even a status icon in the menu bar on top so I can see number of message from other programs.

I miss my BlackBerry. Seriously, you have to use a Blackberry to really understand how nice it is. The keyboard is wonderful for typing on, and everything is optimized for efficiency. For instance, it comes with a great holster that has a little magnet on the bottom. When the Blackberry is in the holster and something happens - you get an email or a text message or a phone call - and you pull the phone out, the little magnet senses that the phone is being taken out, and the phone turns on and goes directly to the screen you need. So when the phone vibrates and says I have email, I pull it out of the holster and it automatically turns on and goes directly to the opened message. Contrast that with the iPhone, where if the phone buzzes to say I have email, I have to press the button to turn it on, swipe to unlock, press the email icon, and then tap on the message in the list view. That's one step (pull out of holster) compared to FOUR.

If I want to scroll to the bottom of a long email chain, or a very long web page, on the iPhone -- there is no way to do it quickly except continuing to swipe my finger a dozen times to pull the page along. There is a scroll bar on the side but you can't grab it.

This guy sums it up: http://editweapon.com/form-vs-function-iphone-vs-blackberry/

Rudy On Head

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 03:55:00 +0000

Sure, I could spend a few minutes regaling you with stories of moving into my new apartment, and then finding out that said apartment is HAUNTED; I could talk about my ire at learning of the elitist snobby bullshit pulled by the owner of Murky's Coffee in Arlington; I could talk about how much fun I had at Kal's wedding (and the ensuing 3 hour nap on the bathroom floor).

But that would all require too much work.

So instead, I bring you this photograph, taken circa 2008 with my iPhone, and spruced up a bit in a photo editor. I call it, "Rudy On Head." Discuss.

A Ginger Snap Vignette

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 18:22:00 +0000

As Matt walks through the office hallways, he overhears two secretaries talking about ginger snaps.

Secretary 1: I can't find old fashioned ginger snaps anywhere.
Matt (stops in his tracks): Are you looking for old fashioned ginger snaps?
S: Do you know where I can find them??
M: Not yet. But I'm going to make it my mission.
S2: Really?
M: You're looking for ginger snaps, right?
S1: Yes.
M: That's a cause I can get behind.
S1 and S2 (all smiles): Thanks!

As Matt walks away, he hears them in the distance. S1: "He's so nice!"

Moving In

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 04:48:00 +0000

I've spent the last couple of weeks moving in to my new home in North Arlington (about a mile from the Ballston Metro, for those of you who know the area). The house is really nice, and I share it with a couple of great people. I have been putting everything together -- setting it up just the way I like it. I always hate the logistical nightmare of moving OUT of an old place, but I love the POSSIBILITIES of moving into a new place. I am definitely of the mindset that My Home Is My Castle -- but, more accurately, I would say that My Home Is My Sanctuary. I love to feel peaceful, comfortable, safe, relaxed. That is what I am trying to set up.

Because it is late and I am tired and I have to get to work in the morning (yay being a real live communications lawyer!), I will leave you with this candid shot (artfully edited in post) showing Yours Truly preparing to rehearse the 1812 Overture for last week's July 4th concert on the Mall. It was a blast!

(Photo credit: Nathan Mitchell, CASW Bass)

Tenor Tip IV: Will It Blend?

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 02:07:00 +0000

Tenor Tips IV from Matt S. on Vimeo.

Another Double Rainbow Over DC

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 00:22:00 +0000

Double Rainbow Over DC, 6/23/08, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

A second double rainbow within a week. Was it another Russert miracle? Or was someone else behind this one? I report live from our nation's capital.

Rudy the Fighter Pilot

noreply@blogger.com (Matt) — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 03:14:00 +0000

I want to take a moment to describe an episode tonight that proves Rudy the parrot is actually a fighter pilot.

Rudy was in the bathroom with me but I wanted my privacy. So I stood up and grabbed Rudy off the window sill (BRAK!) and tossed him out the door. Rudy starts flapping, hovers in mid-air, turns around, and heads back toward my head. I hold both my hands out in front of me to block his path. He instantaneously stops flapping his wings and drops about five feet straight down, then starts flapping again when he is about six inches above the floor, flies past me into the bathroom about a foot off the ground, then once he's clear flies upward about four feet and lands back on the window sill.

Rudy is a FIGHTER PILOT.