Wonder of wonders; we had a white Christmas here in New Orleans. From what I hear, that's the first time in 40 or 50 years...

I got totally schnockered on Christmas Eve, then slept most of Christmas Day. 'Twas a good time.

Tonight I was watching "Stargate: SG-1." I realized what made it such a brilliant pilot. It had sarcasm, yes. It had decent special effects. It had a plot, and a nice Sci-Fi element. But it came through in the most important category of all; bare breasts.

So many shows these days are lacking in the ever-so-necessary female nipple viewing minimum requirement. Even R-rated movies these days often lack female nudity. They're more likely to show men's asses than women's. And I know I'm biased, but I think naked women are much more esthetically pleasing than men.

I think there should be a standard in every movie and TV show; at least four scenes of bare breasts, two of bare asses (female), and at least one of full frontal nude shot (female, of course, and preferable shaved).

I mean, there's no show that wouldn't be better off this way; imagine "Friends" if you'd gotten to see Phoebe in the bathtub, or "Alias" if Jennifer Garner were running from a scene all naked and jiggling, or "Angel" with Cordelia showing off those magnificent ta-tas! Name the show, and I will tell you how it would be better off with more female nudity.

Except "Golden Girls."

Also, Bin Laden wouldn't be able to air any of his messages, if he knew they'd keep throwing in nude shots of women. It goes against his screwed-up religious principles (killing and wounding thousands of innocents; God loves you. Eating bacon and seeing women naked? You're going to hell). So, as long as there's a lack of TV and Movie nudity, the terrorists have won.

Anyway, that's my contribution to the betterment of society, and world peace. Talk to you later!

Jester

I just watched the making of "Pirates of the Caribbean." I was struck by several things...

1) That a movie that cool came from a theme park ride that lame is quite incredible.

2) Johnny Depp is bad-ass. Not many men can pull off looking cool while wearing eyeliner.

3) I want to be Orlando Bloom. Nothing more to add to that.

4) Whoever came up with the phrase "Fire at Will!" must've hated Will. Just once on "Star Trek: the Next Generation" I wanted somebody to shoot Will Riker when Picard said that. Yeah, I'm weird.

5) Whoever wants to be a pirate obviously doesn't place dental hygiene in high priority.

6) I want to be Orlando Bloom. Okay, I already mentioned it. But it's still true.

7) Jerry Bruckheimer should've been put in charge of "Phantom of the Opera." Yes, technically speaking, the Phantom never makes anything explode, and there couldn't be too many cool car or boat chases... But it still would've been way cool.

Merry Christmas!

Damn, I hate the holidays.

I don't know if I'd mentioned that before. Just thought I'd let you know.

I've been pretty much out of food for a week, but I've been eating the dregs of my pantry to avoid going to the store. Finally, I had nothing left, so I went tonight. I thought if I went at 2:00 in the morning, I'd be safe from the crowds.

Nope. After fighting the crowds (and having the store be almost out of everything), I ended up waiting 45 minutes in the checkout line.

One thing I've noticed; I think I'm the only person in Louisiana who puts the shopping cart in the receptacle for it in the parking lot. There will be (literally) hundreds of carts scattered throughout the parking lot, and not one of them will be in the receptacle. It's very odd.

Also, I'm not sure if people are more charitable, or just more needy, but I had nine phone calls from charities yesterday morning. I was keeping the ringer on because I was expecting a phone call from a friend that I really wanted to talk to, but finally I just had to turn the ringer off.

But a few more days, and the shitty christmas music season will be over! I won't have anybody asking me to play "Grandma got run over by a reindeer" for eleven months! You know, that song was funny the first few hundred times I heard it. Then again, I also used to like "Piano Man," "Sweet Home Alabama," "Walking in Memphis," "Tiny Dancer" and "Brown-Eyed Girl." But after playing them each four or five times a night for two years, I'm ready to not ever hear them again.

It's gotten cold. I think the proper meteorological term is "bitch-cold." It's 35 right now, and heading down towards the 20s. Of course, the person I talk to the most is way up in the Northern part of the states, so I won't get any sympathy from her.

Almost a year ago, I was talking a lot to Anna, and she was snowed into her house a lot. That's just a bizarre concept to me. Of course, I don't really have any experience with snow, and that's not likely to change.

"Phantom of the Opera" is out now. I'll probably go see it Christmas Eve, if any Theatres are open during the day. After listening to the CDs extensively, I've decided that Schumacher is a total dumbass. I mean, I knew that before, but it's been thoroughly reinforced. He took the elements that made that my favorite musical of all time, and just tossed them out the window. I guess it's hard to see what you're doing when your head is that far up your ass, though.

But soon It'll be New Year's Eve. Last New Year's Eve, I was working at "Howl at the Moon" in San Antonio, and I thought life couldn't get any better. Man, was I wrong! 2004 has been by far the best year of my life, and I have hopes that 2005 will top it.

I'll be sending out my twice yearly State of the Union (or Jess's Life) email in a week or so. If you've ever emailed me, you'll probably get a copy of it (unless I really don't like you...). Look forward with glee, or foreboding, whichever you find more appropriate.

Talk to you all soon!

Jester

It's something that just needs to be said...

Mothers; when you're naming your son, think about whether you want grandkids someday. If you do, there are certain things you should NOT name your son. It will ruin any chance he has of procreating if you name him something like:

Alfred
Buford
Darrell
Elwood
Gunther
Leonard
Marvin
Randall

I mean, to get anywhere, he'll have to be good-looking, charming, and already have given the girl multiple orgasms before he tells her his name. No girl wants to scream "Marvin" in the throes of passion.

Of course, no mother wants to think about her son having sex. But hopefully, he's going to. And you should have some consideration here.

I've left a whole lot of bad names off that list. I'm sure some of you all will email me with several I didn't mention, and I'll probably devote a later blog to them. But that's a good start, and if I've helped the world in any way, I'll be glad.

Jester

O, happy day! O, Frabjuos, wondrous fervolity!

As many of you know, I have had a thoroughly unhealthy obsession with Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Phantom of the Opera" since I was a teenager. Within weeks of hearing it for the first time, I had bought and memorized the original score. I sang every male role in it at my house and at the movie theater I managed. My best friend from those days, Jonathan Fernandez, shared my love of the musical, and we would sing it over and over again, sometimes recording ourselves, just to hear how bad we were. He couldn't hit the low notes back then, and I couldn't hit the high ones. I've listened to it beginning to end several thousand times, I imagine.

Fast forward to a couple of years ago, when the effort to make the movie took off again. First was the dread because it looked like Antonio Banderas would get the role of the Phantom. Although he turned in a masterful performance as Che in the movie version of "Evita," his voice could hardly be more wrong for the role of the Phantom.

Then I heard Joel Schumacher would direct. Now I'll admit, I loved "Lost Boys." But I've hated pretty much everything he's directed since then, and several of my top five worst movies of all time were directed by him (#2 being "Batman Forever"). So I was thinking that my favorite musical of all time was going to become total shit.

The momentary sigh of relief from hearing that Antonio was not getting the role was overshadowed by hearing that it would go to Gerard Butler, who had never sung before. Why? Because he was, and I quote Schumacher here, "Young and sexy, which is what the role needed." Which just goes to show how little he understands the story. The curse of the Phantom in this story is that he's old and ugly.

The pictures I saw of the production looked like I had always imagined it, though. So I figured that visually, it would be a masterpiece. Just not musically.

But I just got in the soundtrack to the movie, and you know what? It's not bad. I mean, Butler is no Michael Crawford, but he gives a very passionate performance, if not as trained and smooth as the Phantom is supposed to be. I have not had time to thoroughly examine every song, but so far, I'm pleasantly suprised.

I still think if they were going for someone young and incredibly sexy, they should have picked me. I can sing the hell out of that role, now. But maybe they just figured I was above such things.

Anyway, now I can't wait to see the movie. I am once again excited about it.

How do you feel? Or do you even care about it? Let me know!

pianoman@jessmills.com


Talk to you later,
Jester

In case any of you ought there are unaware, the world has changed, and there are great times ahead. No longer will we have to suffer the way we did, and the easy life has gotten easier.

That's right, you know what I'm referring to. Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper is now available in cans.

For years and years, if you had a craving for this divine concoction, the only possible improvement upon that sweet nectar of the gods we call Dr. Pepper, the only way to satisfy that craving was to go to your local Sonic and order it. But of course, then you had to brave the hordes of high school kids who thought the ultimate of cool was to hang out for awhile at the Sonic Drive-In, before going to "cruise the loop" (drive in circles around town for a few hours, in other words). And nothing can spoil an appetite like being around high school kids.

But all that is behind us, for we can go to the store and buy 12 packs, or even 20 packs! Or, if you're counting calories (as opposed to counting crows, which I'm all in favor of), you can get Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper, which is probably the only soda that needs five words for its name. They had to work to cram all that in on the can.

Let us rejoice!

Jester

Call me a grinch, but I really don't like the holidays.

For one, the music is terrible. At most, there's about 50 Christmas songs that they play over and over and over and over and over again. And most of them are badly written, and badly performed. And no matter where you go, they're playing there. I thought I could at least escape it at work, but my coworkers all seem to love Christmas songs, and keep asking the audience to request their favorites. And vomiting onstage is frowned upon, for some reason.

Second of all, I don't like being in crowds. Well, that means I can't go anywhere from Thanksgiving to New Year's. Everybody's shopping, and eating out, and in a really big hurry, and usually in a surly mood. Rudeness abounds while they tell you about holiday cheer.

Third, it's just so commercial. What do I buy this person? How much into debt can I go to pay for all the gifts? Have I included a card for every single person I've ever met? My dad once told me that your family is the people you're related to by love, not blood. But that certainly doesn't seem to be the case during the holiday. You're expected to treat total strangers like they're you're best friends, simply because you share some genetic material.

For that matter, the holidays are way too secular. And those that participate in the religious aspect often do so because they ignore their "beliefs" the rest of the year. As a former church musician, I always knew we'd have a packed house at Christmas and Easter. The rest of the time, the front rows were always empty.

But Santa Claus, and Rudolf, and Jingle Bells, and all that bull - that's what's more prevalent. And I'll tell you why; it's easier to sell stuff with them. When people feel guilty about God and Jesus, they give money to the church to soothe their conscience. When they feel guilty about other people, they buy them gifts. Well, your average business owner is more concerned with turning a profit than seeing how the Sunday Contributions are going.

But the worst part? You're expected to have a lover during the holidays. If you're single, people spend so much time telling you how bad they feel for you that even if you felt great before, you sure won't afterwards! Every activity is geared towards couples and families. Every movie and song is about couples and families. There's no time that you'll feel more alone than during the holidays.

No wonder depression and alcohol abuse are so rampant at this time of year!

When I was a kid, there was one good thing about the holidays. My grandmother would have a feast (usually Mexican food), and my extended family would get together. And though there were some people I didn't really know in that mix, it was usually a fun time, with lots of food, and laughter... I'd often end up playing her Steinway, and we'd just have a good time. She'd buy a lot of crap gifts, and we'd end up with bags of junk to take home... But it wasn't about the gifts.

She passed away a few years ago. Various members of the family have tried to revive the tradition, but it just hasn't worked. And that's okay - times change. But I hate the artificial nature of how the holidays are celebrated.

So yeah, I'm a grinch. But you know what? I'm okay with that. Even if I didn't like the movie with Jim Carrey.

Talk to ya later!

Jester

(to the tune of "Sounds of Silence")

Hello, weblog my old friend
I've come to write in you again
Though I'll admit that I've neglected you
Please don't think that I've rejected you
I've simply had other things to do
I hope you knew
That I still love my weblog...

Anyway, it's been a fun and interesting time the last few weeks. I've had a succession of friends come and visit.

First there was Janelle, who I don't think was overly impressed with New Orleans, but we had a good time anyway. We played pool, and she let me win. I can't argue with that. She liked all the gay guys in interesting outfits for Halloween. I liked all the girls wearing virtually nothing as their costumes. But that's just me.

Then Caleb came over, and despite our grandiose plans, we basically just watched "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" all weekend long. That is such an incredibly good show. Is there anyone out there who reads this blog that is not totally hooked on that show? Please let me know; I'll loan you the Season One DVDs.

Then my friend Monica came over for a visit. We had a good time, though many of the things that had previously driven us apart were still in evidence. But we saw a lot of sights, went out a few times, and just generally had a relaxing time. It was only the second time we'd ever been anywhere without her son with us, and that made things a lot easier to plan. She didn't care too much for the Hurricanes, but she LOVED the Hand Grenades.

While she was here, she danced a couple of times at the Hustler Barely Legal club. I went to pick her up one night, and it was a real revelation to me. The previous times I'd been to strip clubs, they seemed to be a strange combination of frustration and enticement. This time, I was just thoroughly bored. The girls I date now are way hotter than any girls that strip, and a lot more classy. And for that matter, the thought of having to pay a girl to act interested in me just seems pathetic. I've definitely moved far beyond my former days of dating strippers. Which is a good thing; they're expensive girls to date.

In other news, a few months ago I mentioned how most of my female friends were hooking back up with their loser boyfriends/fiancees/husbands, and swearing that they were completely changed. Well, with one exception they've all now broken up with those guys, realizing that the changes were cosmetic, at best. As I've said before, people rarely, rarely change. I have to see it, and see it last, before I believe it for a second.

The one exception is Anna, who is still with her husband, and apparently happy. She doesn't claim so much that he's changed, though, she's just changed what she's looking for, I think. I'm not completely sure, since we're apparently not on speaking terms anymore. Which is mostly my fault. I was not always the most tactful of people in talking to her. Honesty is always a bad habit of mine. I do miss her, though; she was very insightful in analyzing my psyche. Plus, she has one helluva singing voice.

Speaking of which, my singing is getting much, much better. My friends have all noticed. I guess doing something for a living five or six nights a week will do that to you. I've got a long way to go, but I'm moving closer to being ready to really front my own band.

I've made a new friend on the internet, something I don't do too often. Her name is Christine, and she's a fascinating individual who lives in New York, and used to be a model in Hawaii... She's a mother of two, and I don't get to talk to her anywhere near as much as I'd like, but she's way cool.

I'm also starting to get to know my co-worker Amy Trail better. She's got a great sense of humor, and manages to slip the naughtiest little comments onstage while looking completely innocent. Plus, she has probably the best voice at Pat O' Brien's. And I've also been hanging out with George Rossi and Kristen Cady, two of the other entertainers there. Musicians; weird, quirky habits, but a lot of fun.

Well, I'll try to keep things posted a lot more. Later!

Jester

Well, I realized something last night. You know those cheap pink or purple wigs girls sometimes wear? About shoulder-length, with bangs?

I'm totally turned on by girls wearing them. Weird, huh?

Now, I have a lot of turn-ons, it's true. But all the others, I can say "I like this because of that, or it makes me think of this..." or whatever. They make sense. But the wig thing? I don't get that. But if a girl is a 6 or a 7 before, she puts on one of those and becomes an 8 or a 9 in my book. And if she's already an 8 or 9, then... Whew.

And it's not like I've ever dated a girl that wore one (though I may try to change that in the near future). So I don't really have any memories attached to them.

I'm going to have to think about this one. But for all you thousands of girls out there vying for my attention, now you have a little inside tip from the man himself.

Talk to you all soon,

Jester

You know, I'm just going to vent about something private, and probably not that humorous, so feel free to skip this one.

I don't fall for girls. I have a long history of not falling for girls. I like girls, I date them, I love their company. I'm as heterosexual as a man can get. But I don't get attached, and I don't fall in love.

When people hear this, or when they notice it, they talk to me about how I have to let go. How I have to risk my heart. Or how there's such a shell of protective armor around my deepest emotions. How someday some girl will overcome it, if only I let her. How I can't be afraid to fall in love.

And it's all bullshit. I have no protective armor. There's no wall to my emotions. Either I'm different, because I simply don't fall in love, or I'm the same as everybody, but simply more honest with myself. I don't know which, all I know is that I don't create emotions or attachments where there aren't any.

This last year, I fell in love. It didn't take effort. There was no letting go. There was no fear. I met the girl for me, and I fell in love. Hadn't felt that way about a girl in years, and years.

It ended badly. It happens. That's life. We're currently not speaking. We may change that someday, we may not. Who knows.

But when I try to talk to my friends about it, all they want to do is talk about protective armor, and taking a chance on love, and not letting this one scare me away from future love. And I want to scream "DON'T PUT ME IN A BOX!!! LISTEN TO ME, TO WHAT I'M SAYING, NOT WHAT EVERYBODY ELSE HAS SAID IN THE PAST!!!!" But I can't, because they mean well. They're just putting themselves where they think I am, instead of thinking about me being where I am.

Ironically, there's one girl that understood me well enough not to do that. To actually listen to me, and think about what I'm saying, not just what everybody else would do. Of course, it's the girl I fell for, and am not speaking to. And even if we were speaking, I don't think that would be a good topic.

I just wish that I could talk to someone without them immediately saying "We all go through that" or "I've been there" and proceeding to show that no, they really haven't. I wish I could tell someone I'm happy it happened just so I could feel what it was like to be in love, without them proceeding to talk about how it's great I've learned to tear down those walls, yada yada yada, and how now I'm ready to find the right person, and fall in love, and live happily ever after.

I DID find the right person! Why don't they listen? I'm not out to replace her. I'm not out to fall in love again. And if I grow old by myself, that's GREAT by me. I've lived by myself for years now, and I gotta say, it's the way to go.

Being alone doesn't scare me. Never falling in love again doesn't scare me. Spending the rest of my life without a spouse doesn't scare me. If I had a choice, I'd rather spend it with her. But not because I want somebody to love. Not because I need somebody there for me. Not because of any fears, or gaps, or incompleteness, or anything like that. Just because of who she is.

So, if you've actually read this... If you tell me that I'm going to make some girl really happy someday, or that there's a beautiful heart under my cynical exterior, or that I'll fall in love again if I just have faith...

I WILL BEAT YOU!!! I WILL SMACK YOU INTO THE NEXT WEEK!!! I WILL OPEN AN ENTIRE CASE OF WHOOP-ASS ON YOU!!!

Thank you, and have a nice day.

So I went and had supper at my friend Kristen's house in Slidell tonight. We had sushi and sake, and I discovered a few things.

Sake - tastes halfway between tequila and vodka. No effect on me. Drank half a bottle, didn't get even a slight buzz.

Louisiana people - no clue what a long drive is. People have been telling me for months that Kristen just lives so far away, and how it's this huge drive. It's 45 minutes from her door to mine, going the speed limit.

Also, there's a strip club in Slidell I saw a billboard for: it's called "Scuttlebutt."

I haven't decided whether that's a horrible name for a strip club, or sheer genius.

Jester

You know, when I was in college, there was always the "old man" at the party. Somebody who was too old to fit in, but didn't want to admit it. Some guy who was living way in the past, and didn't realize that it wasn't the 80s anymore, and he wasn't cool. We always felt sorry for him, and cracked jokes. It wasn't even the same guy, usually.

My friends have all been complaining about how old they are, and feel. To a small extent, I can understand. It's hard to believe that kids who weren't even born when "Top Gun" and "Back to the Future" came out are old enough to vote.

But I don't feel any older. I'm 27 now, and it feels very young. I know what's on the radio, and what shows are on TV. I'm as comfortable with today's pop culture as I am of the 80s and 90s. I'm up on stage making music for the college kids on the weekend. The majority of the girls I date are indeed the college-age girls. I don't dress in the most current fashions, but then again, I never did.

So I can't help but wonder - am I the "old man" at the party now?

None of us is perfect. Somewhere, in some way, each of us has flaws, and problems. Some of us have fewer than others, true, but still...

I have decided to come face to face with one of my flaws. They say that the first step towards fighting a problem is admitting you have one. Well, I admit it, though I have denied the truth to myself for years, it's time to face the facts.

I have dandruff.

For years, I blamed the hairspray and the gel for flaking off, and to some extent, this was true, But I haven't worn any gel for a few days, and still, the flaking is there.

I don't blame myself; I blame my father. He had dandruff, too, and not being content to suffer alone, passed it along to me. What vicious cycles we perpetrate, handing these problems down to our children.

Well, I'm making a stand. I'm using anti-dandruff shampoo. I'm not going to just accept flaking, oh no! I'm going to face my flaws with courage, integrity, determination, and an active ingredient of 1% selenium sulfide.

Pray for me, my friends. With strength, I will overcome.

Jester

Well, the hurricane that was going to wash away New Orleans didn't. Here in Metairie (the suburb of N.O. that I live in), we didn't even get a drop of rain. And all the people that told me I was ten kinds of idiot for staying, well... I hate to say I told you so, but - I told you so.

Not that hurricanes aren't something to fear, something to reckon with, and something to take seriously. I just knew this one wasn't going to affect me.

What was cool was that almost every friend I have called or emailed to check on me, and see how I was. That was pretty cool. It let me know which of my friends really care. Of course, they all thought I was a fool for staying, but that's okay.

Did you know that there's a breed of penguin called Macaroni? Neither did I. But there is. And now we both know.

I'm going to spend today learning college fight songs. I really, really hate college fight songs. But I get paid money to play them, and I'm a... What's the word... Whore. Yeah, that's it. I'm a musical whore.

Well, I'm going to practice for my whoredom now. I may post again later. Then again, I might just keep reading some more David Gemmel books.

Remember - Gravity; it's not just a good idea, it's the law.

Jester

Okay, so I’m ignoring the evacuation warnings, and staying here in New Orleans. Why? Several reasons, the first probably being that I’m stupid at times, and still have my naive youthful belief in my own invulnerability. Also, I haven’t heard any good reasons to leave.

I’ve been bored and cooped up in my house. Not that I’m locked in, but every place that I could go is closed down in anticipation of Ivan. So I’ve been reading, practicing, and the last few hours, experimenting with drinks. I found a great one; “Silk Stockings.”

1.5 ounces tequila (I use "Tres Generaciones" - very smooth)
1.5 ounces creme de cacao
1 ounce light cream
1 dash grenadine

shake real well with ice, serve in prechilled cocktail glass with a dash of cinammon on top. Most, most excellent.

My friend Mark and his wife are coming up at the beginning of October. I am looking forward to that, should be a blast. Also, I think I’m getting closer to persuading Lynnette and Janelle to come here some weekend.

I recently got the whole “All I want is your friendship” speech. Why do we say that, when what we really mean is “I’m not going to really talk to you much any more, and when I do, it will probably be brief, awkward, and trivial. But I hope you think fondly of me!”? I have often complained that virtually no relationships are based on true honesty. But virtually no brush-offs are, either.

Maybe I’m callused. But brush-offs don’t really bother me. God knows I’ve had enough of them, and I will in the future. But I hate it when they give mixed signals for long periods of time, because they’re “trying to let you down gently.” I’m cynical enough that as soon as I get mixed signals, I assume the worst (and it’s been true every time so far). But dishonesty just pisses me off, no matter what the motive is. I understand Billy Joel’s song “Honesty” more and more, the older I get.

I do kinda wonder, though. I thought last year that I could not get any more cynical than I already was. And now I am. Is there a limit to cynicism? If so, call me a Brave New Explorer, Going Where No One Has Gone Before.

Am I the only one that noticed that the Enterprise almost NEVER went where no man had gone before?

I unpacked some tapes of my first few months at “Howl at the Moon.” I sucked back then. I mean really, really sucked. I’m not great now, but damn... I threw the tapes away, of course.

I got tired of my haircut, so I grew my goatee again, and gave myself a buzzcut. I may post a few pictures of it.

I don’t know what to do with all this spare time. I’ve practiced 8 hours today. It’s the middle of the week, so all my normal friends are at work, and most of my non-normal friends are busy evacuating. Hmm... I think more alcohol is in order.

Remember, in Idaho, it’s against the law to fish for trout while sitting on the back of a giraffe.

Jester

I think if you took James Taylor, and kept him drunk on Rum for a few years, he'd be Jimmy Buffet.

Just thought I'd share that with you.

Jester

Had "Highlander" been written by Joss Whedon, I think it would have been the ultimate show. After all, it had gorgeous girls, frequent sword-fighting, cool cars, and immortality. Other than bare breasts, I can't think of anything lacking.

Anyway, I'm back from my Texas trip (obviously). For the most part, it went well. My house was seriously dirty, so I spent more time cleaning than packing, but through massive lack of sleep, I managed to get everything done in time. Now if only there'd been more bare breasts.

My friends Jacob and Maggie loaned me their truck to haul everything to Nawlins, and Maggie came with me to help unload, then drive the truck back. I think she enjoyed it here, but she was here less than two days, so I didn't have time to take her to see most of the sites. Oh well, maybe next time.

Friday night the crowds LOVED me. Saturday, they let out a collective "Meh." Tonight they were really into my show. It's like "Pat O'Brien's; the Roller Coaster." Of course, on none of those nights did I see any bare breasts. I think I'm suffering from withdrawals. If there are any ladies out there willing to help me with this, please let me know.

Since I've been back, I've been watching mainly "Sliders" and "Highlander." I think "Sliders" would have been better if John Rhys-Davies' character had been like his portrayal of "Gimli" in "Lord of the Rings." After all, what show isn't better off with a dwarf carrying an axe?

One of my friends just got a job as a nurse. While I applaud her drive, she's quit paying quite so much attention to me. I'm not happy about that. After all, am I not the center of everyone's universe? If not, why not? That's just how it should be. Well, maybe when I take over the world. And there'll be a lot more bare breasts, too, I'll tell you that much.

Well, I'm trying to think of news here. Still fixing up the apartment. Still spending most of my days trying to learn more songs. I'm not getting too much action on the women front here, but considering I've been working pretty much every night since I've been back, I guess that's to be expected.

As far as my female friends, they've all gone back to their loser boyfriends/husbands. And in most cases, the guys have done a "complete change, like he's a new person!!!" Meh. In a few months, they'll be complaining to me again. It's always bothered me how women keep falling for the same acts over and over. But then again, we're no better. Men manipulate women, women manipulate men, and all the while, both keep saying "I want somebody who won't play games!"

Not that I've grown even more cynical after my recent experiences, or anything.

But that's okay, 'cause I'm a musician. And what cooler job can there be than that? Other than Movie star. Or professional athlete. Or porn star. Yeah, other than those.

On that note, I'll try to keep this thing a little more updated. Keep writing to me at
pianoman@jessmills.com

And remember; panties aren't the best thing in the whole world. But they're right next to it.

Jester

Well, I'm here in Pleasanton. I'd tell you how exciting it is to be back, but I'd be lying. Excitement in Pleasanton is a trip to the Super Wal-Mart.

It happened again - I wrote a long blog entry (while typing away at a computer at the Public Library), and it didn't publish. And I hadn't saved it, 'cause it wasn't my computer.

Anna called me yesterday to apologize. With all the stress she's under right now, I probably should have been more understanding. But no matter how much stress she's under, she is cool enough to admit when she's wrong, which is more than most people can do under the best of circumstances. Every time I think she can't be any cooler, she proves me wrong. Why can't she be single, and living in New Orleans?

One nice thing about being back for alittle while is that I'm really popular. Everybody is coming to see me. Last night I got to see Jacob, and Caleb, and Maggie, and Shauna, and Lisa. And a guy I didn't know, who was with them. Today I got to see my sis Amy, and tonight I'm eating steaks with my mom and step-dad, and then my friend Sherri may be coming by.

My friends are awesome - Caleb and I were supposed to make the trip back, but his truck is in the shop. So Maggie and Jacob are seeing if they can take me back. It's a true friend who offers to make a 10 hour road trip with you, then drive 10 hours back.

Well, I'm going to try publishing this, and see what happens.

P.S. Anna - if you're reading this, you rock. If you're not reading this, then I'm hurt that you're not devouring my every written word... :(

Well, I had just written a long entry for the blog. I went to publish it, and two firsts happened:

1) I didn't save it first
2) it didn't publish, and reported an error instead (like I know what to do with that)

So anyway... Quick rundown...

Had a big fight with Anna. But for once, I'm not backing down on, 'cause for a change, I wasn't wrong. She thinks I'm playing games. I think she's using a double standard, and I feel like you shouldn't accuse somebody unless you're certain. So we'll see where things go. I've never believed in apologizing unless you mean it. And I certainly couldn't mean it right now.

Heard from my friend Caroline yesterday. We were buddies all during college at SFA, but slowly lost touch afterwards. It was great to hear from her, and now I'm trying to get her to plan a road trip to Nawlin's. It's looking like December is a distinct possibility.

Had a date after work last night. Which was a pretty cool concept in and of itself. Went out to eat a cool little cafe in the French Quarter (our waiter had blue hair - I LOVE New Orleans!). After that we hit a few bars, heard a couple of live bands. Ended up at the Maple Leaf Bar listening to Tony Hall jam with a local band. If you don't know who that is (which I didn't before last night), he's the bass player for the Dave Matthews band.

But they laid down a funky groove so tight that I actually got out on the dance floor. And didn't look too terribly white, either. Now that's a good groove.

It was the first band I've heard since I've been here that was so good that I don't know if I could hang with them. They were just incredible.

Anyway, the day started out in suck, and ended in incredible. Much better than the opposite.

Now I'm off to Texas! Yee-Haw!!!

I want to have super powers. I really, really want to.

But I don’t want to be a superhero, or an archnemesis of one.

First of all, there’s the whole cape issue. Everybody knows that capes are cool. But none of us get to wear them! I want to walk down the street with my cape billowing out behind me. I want people to see the cape, and immediately know I have super powers of one variety or another. But no, if I were to wear a cape, people would think I was a gay musician, or a circus performer. Not that there’s anything wrong with those lifestyles, of course. But they’re not me.

On the other hand, I don’t want to wear spandex. That only looks good on... Okay, I can’t actually think of any guys it looks good on. There are a few chicks I know that look good in spandex, but crime-fighting isn’t what I’d be thinking about if I saw them...

And what’s with wearing underwear on the outside? Is it just everybody following Superman’s trend? Come on, he has an excuse; he got his fashion sense from an alien planet. What about all the others? And where do they put the car keys? Do I even want to know

Having said that, most of the superpowers are really cool (except phlegm-man... But he was short-lived anyway). I mean, looking through walls, superspeed, melting things with your eyesight... But I’d have to say my top five would be

5) Teleportation. It would save so much money on the gas. Be great for the environment. And you’d always be where you wanted to be. Plus, you could confound Mr. Scott.

4) Superstrength. If you’re a scrawny guy like me, you’ve always had the dream of being stronger than all the guys who spend five hours a day in the gym. And if Buffy Summers can have superstrength whilst she’s looking all anorexic in seasons five through seven (yes, I’m that much of a nerd), then I could too.

3) Flying. ‘Cause... I mean, do I have to explain this one? Flying!!!

2) Mind-reading. First of all, you’d be the ultimate businessman. You could always get the best deal possible. You could figure out how to sweet-talk any deal. And man, you’d be the ultimate playa. The second you start talking to a girl, you’d know your chances. No wasted time. And you’d always know the right thing to say and/or do. Yeah, money and women. What more do you need?

1) Immortality. Because hey, why be in a rush? Go to college for a few hundred years, get a masters in everything! Travel the world, see it all. And I do mean it all. And by that time, there’ll probably be other worlds to travel to. I know, the immortals in fiction are always whining because their loved ones grow old and die, and they have to say goodbye. Well, so what? We mortals will all have the same problem!

But superheroes are always too arrogant. I know, you’re thinking that not all of them are. But they are. Look at their relationships. Every one of them won’t tell their significant other their true identity (unless they’re dating another superhero), because they “won’t risk” the person they love. How condescending can you get? I love you, but I’m not going to let you make up your mind about how much loving me is worth risking? What does that say about my respect for you? Not a whole lot. I’d be like, “hey, here’s the deal. Here’s the risks, here’s the benefits, make up your own mind... But keep in mind that ‘man of steel’ has many different interpretations, baby...” Yeah, I'm arrogant, too. But at least I know it, and don't try to make up everybody else's mind for them.

On the other hand, supervillains are all really stupid. No matter how intelligent they are, they’ll throw away all their plans just to try to kill a superhero, even if he/she isn’t interfering with the plans for world domination! They end up playing “Dr. Evil” with their overly-elaborate death traps.

None of that for me. Let me pull a Methos, and just hang around for a long, long time, getting the lay of the land, and living it up. Rule the world? Tomorrow, maybe. Money and women is all I need right now.

But most of all, I’d like to jam music with Willie Nelson. And if I had superpowers, I bet he’d be all for it.

Anyway, them there are my thoughts. I’m going to go put on a cape, and go fight for truth, justice, and poontang!

To the Jestermobile!!!!

Well, I got griped at enough that I figured I should go ahead and update. Now that I think about it, though, I kinda like the griping; it lets me know that people are actually reading this. Why, I don't know. I haven't written anything interesting in about four or five months.

My friend Katie is here, and has been here for a couple of days. We've been having a blast. Last night we went on a Jazz cruise, which was beautiful, and we've just done a lot of relaxing and hanging out and talking. We also went shopping yesterday; I wanted to get her the most scandalous outfits I could talk her into wearing (she's a ballerina, and has the body for it), and she wanted to dress nicely. A good time was had by all. But she wouldn't wear the stripper outfits. Go figure. You'd think she had class, or dignity. In which case, you've got to wonder why she's hanging out with me!

Lynnette probably isn't going to be able to make it out here this month. Which is a total bummer - I was looking forward to it. Haven't seen her in awhile. But there have been a lot of cancellations in people's travel plans for here; Anna isn't going to be able to make it, either.

Yesterday Katie and I walked pretty much the entire French Quarter. It was awesome. I've never been around someone who could walk all day long like I can. Anna says that she can, but I'll believe it when I see it. Which I probably won't anytime soon, but that's another story. I've also discovered that Katie can drink me under the table. Which is a first. I've never had anyone outdrink me before. But oh, can she.

My friend that thought she was pregnant wasn't. A good thing. She's already got a kid she can't really take care of.

I need to post some more of my life philosophies, I think. But right now I'm going through a very cynical period, so I need to let things settle a bit. People always mistake my cynicism for bitterness, and there's a big difference.

Well, Katie's out of the shower, so I'm going to be all social and stuff. Talk atchall later...

I was hanging out with a girl tonight, dressed all nice and casual, since it's my day off. She told me I ought to take some pics for my website dressed like I was, with (and I quote) "all those muscles bulging everywhere." No, I really don't know what she was talking about, but I was willing to go with it.

I don't think she was looking at my pants, so I assumed she was talking about my sleeveless shirt. As you know, flattery will get you everywhere with me, so I posted a couple more pics in the photos section of the website. I didn't shave for it, but I did just get a haircut. Not that it makes too much of a difference.

When I was getting the haircut, the lady kept asking me if I wanted to trim or wax my eyebrows. Now, I don't get haircuts too often (or I didn't use to, at least), but that seemed like a really odd question. Especially by the third time she brought it up. Now I'm going to be paranoid about having bushy eyebrows.

Today was my friend Alvin's Birthday. If you're reading this, Happy Birthday, Alvin! Yeah, I'm too cheap to buy you a freakin' card. Tell you what, next time I see you, I'll spring for a Heineken.

I just read Terry Pratchett's "Monstrous Regiment." I was rather disappointed. As a comedy, it wasn't all that funny. As social commentary, it wasn't that on target. And story wise, it was very, very predictable. Maybe I've been reading too much of his stuff. Oh well, it could be worse; he could be Nicholas Sparks.

Well, that's the news from this front. How go things in your neck of the woods?

Well, I finally took some pics with my digital camera, so that everybody can see my short hair. And I found out I'm even less photogenic than I had thought I was. For such an incredibly good looking guy, I always look like such a goober in photos.

I thought Anna was giving me the silent treatment. Turns out she had extenuating circumstances. For the record, I am in favor of extenuating circumstances, and against getting the silent treatment. And you can quote me on that, should you ever so desire.

I still have hopes she'll be coming up to visit next week. Not expectations, necessarily, but hopes.

My friend Sherri may come up in a few months. I talked to her tonight. 'Twould be most cool.

More people read my blog than I thought. When I don't update, people start emailing, or calling me, or asking about it. Go figure. It's not like I have anything to say. Of course, I check my friend's blogs several times a day. But we know I have no life.

Anyway, if you want to see my new short hair/clean cut look, either email me, and I'll send you pics, or check back onto my website home page every once in awhile. I'm going to try to change them out on a regular basis.

Some old ladies were flashing everybody at work tonight. It wasn't arousing to anybody (at least, any guys under 60, and I question that), but I thought it was pretty cool, anyway. I mean, these old ladies were still confident in themselves, and out to have a good time. When I'm that age, I won't be flashing anybody (hell, I wouldn't do that to anybody NOW!), but I hope I have that lack of dignity. It would suck for me to acquire dignity along the way.

Well, talk to you all soon.

Well, it's nice to be able to post again. They redesigned everything at blogger, and it won't work with Netscape now. So I've been unable to blog for awhile.

It works with Internet Explorer, which is good, I suppose. But it means I have to use a Microsoft product, and I have a deep and abiding hatred for all things Microsoft.

Oh well, not much in the news here; other than my microphone getting stolen, and the top of my car getting slashed. That's the problem with working around drunk people; sometimes they do stupid things. But it's always something.

Katie's visit is getting closer; I'm really looking forward to it. She wants to bring along her younger sister, though, which would interfere with my nefarious seduction schemes (and no, I'm not smooth enough to seduce sisters, not since I was 16). Oh well, I'm sure her boyfriend would've objected anyway. By the way, Katie, if you're reading this, I'm just kidding.

I've got one friend who has sworn off drinking, smoking, and sex. The smoking I understand. The rest? Why live?

I've got one friend who's finally ready to leave her husband. I'm not usually much for cheering on the breakup of marriages, but in this case, it's about damn time. Of course, she's not leaving until Friday, so we'll see whether she can keep her resolve that long. I sure hope so. Once she gets out of the situation she's in, she's never going to believe she stayed as long as she did.

Another friend thinks she might be pregnant (no, it's NOT mine, not a chance, you don't even need to ask). Protection, people! It's a great concept!

It's about time we have a black president. Not for racial reasons (well, normal ones, that is). But I realized that every president since Lincoln has no sense of style. We need a black man with some pimpin' style to be in the Oval Office. Just not Snoop Dogg. He's scrawnier than I am. But all these white guys with the dark suits... It's boring as hell. White guys (straight ones, at least) just have no since of style. It's not our fault; it's like dancing. We can't do it. Why not just admit it? I don't think whites are superior to blacks, or asians are smarter, or hispanics don't work, or any of those incredibly lame stereotypes. They're ridiculous.

But I've never seen a white boy dance well, and I've never seen one with any real fashion sense.

I'd vote for Andre3000 and Big Boi in a heartbeat. And I don't care what their political views are; I'd respect them more than Bush and Kerry.

Well, that's enough for now. Stay in touch!

Jess

pianoman@jessmills.com

Well, everybody's talking about the whole "gay marriage" issue. What I don't hear anybody doing is actually looking at the root issue; what business does the government have with marriage?

I know, I know, some people will point out the obvious issues of property and children, and say marriage is what protects and defines your rights concerning those issues. But that's somewhat misleading. People live with each other and have children outside of marriage on a fairly regular basis. Perhaps this was shocking fifty years ago, but it's not even yawn-worthy now.

I say there ought to be contracts available through the government concerning property rights of couples (or groups of three or more, if they so desire). Let them be called "civil unions" or "life-partner contracts" or even "legal shackles" if they so desire. Let them be binding legal contracts. Hell, we could even make some non-permanent ones, for those who don't want to deal with permanence.

Let there be laws concerning the rights of children, and the obligations of those who create them and those who raise them.

Then, let marriage be a completely religious thing. If you're a Baptist, and you think homosexuals and polygamists shouldn't be allowed to marry - then make sure your church won't marry them! Your church will remain devout towards its beliefs, and nobody's rights are trampled.

Seriously; what concern does the government have towards marriage? If I want to marry another consenting adult, it's no business of the government's whether it's a she, a he, or even a they. For those who are concerned with my mortal soul, let them deal with it in a religious fashion, not a legal one.

"Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, and render unto God what is God's"

In every aspect of life, we should examine whether it really is the government's business, or whether it should be dealt with in another way. The easy way out is to say "there ought to be a law" about whatever. But is that really a good thing?

I also hear a lot of people saying "there ought to be universal health care, because we have a right to it." Since when?

I do believe in universal health care for children, as I believe in a free education (although my thoughts on education are a rant for another time).

But everybody? I don't want to pay for the people who refuse to exercise, who eat poorly, who smoke, who in many, many ways don't take care of their health. And if I choose not to take care of my health, you shouldn't be obliged to pay the price, either. But that's what a universal health care system will cause. And it has bankrupted every country that's tried it. Before we think about experimenting with such a thing, howzabout we try paying off our multi-TRILLION dollar debt?

Yes, I'm obviously a libertarian. But along with freedom comes the responsibility for your actions. And it seems fewer and fewer people desire either, except in patriotic songs.

*Sigh* Bush vs. Kerry. What a joke.

Jess

Had to stop to get gas at 3:00 am right outside the French Quarter. 'Twas one of the first times I've actually been frightened in years. When a whole bunch of big scary guys are telling you you're going to give them a ride... But no, I didn't. I actually made friends with some of them; they said they're going to come check me out at Pat O'Brien's.

Work on the apartment is going slowly, but surely. I'm in the phase where I'm ripping out things. Always fun.

One friend had to cancel her trip out here, but Katie is still planning on making it out. I'm looking forward to that; she was a blast the one chance I've had to really hang out with her. And this time, there will be alcohol involved. But that's a month away from now, so I'll have to be patient.

And of course I'm trying to get Anna out here again. But her schedule's still in limbo.

Well, I'm going to go to bed. If you want to, write me - I'm actually staying in touch with some of my friends more now that I'm farther away! Figure that one out!

Jess

Well, life continues its merry twists and turns. I thought I was going to get ahead this paycheck. Then I went to get my Louisiana license plates, and they said (after waiting 3 hours in line) "That'll be $403.05. Cash or check?"

I've been hearing some great pick-up lines since I've been here. Lines like:
"Excuse me, do you have the time?" "Do you have the energy?"
"Are you free tonight or will it cost me?"
"Excuse me, ma'am, is that dress felt? Would you like it to be?"

The scariest thing is that I've seen some of them work. And I need to double check, but I think they're all from a pick-up lines website, www.linesthataregood.com - go figure. Even bad taste is online. Wait, that's why I've got a website!

"I think I could fall madly in bed with you."

I found a little apartment in the Vieux Carre. It's a fixer-upper. And I really enjoy doing that. I'll be spending today crawling around in the attic, checking out the insulation possibilities. It's only a block from Pat O'Brien's, so the location is ideal.

"If your right leg was Christmas and your left leg was Easter, would you let me spend some time up between the holidays?"

Well, Monica is in love with an Air Force guy (this week, at least), Katie's got a new boyfriend (one that's worried about me - hah! He obviously hasn't met me), Anna's husband is actually showing signs of removing his cranium from his rectal orifice, and I haven't heard from Lynnette for a little while, which usually means she's happy with her man. It's all good; I'm just glad it's not me, 'cause I'm too poor to be falling in love. Say what you will, if you're a guy, women are expensive.

"That's a nice shirt. Can I talk you out of it?"

Well, I'm off to play handy-man. Yup, that's good old studly carpenterman Jess hisself.

Talk atcha soon (sooner if you write to me)

Jester

pianoman@jessmills.com

Well, my friend Julie is about to head on out of town. 'Twas fun, and we'll have to have a repeat visit sometime.

My website is STILL down, and they keep telling me "it will be back up in 24 hours." I guess they didn't specify WHICH 24 hours, so I can't call them liars...

I learned today that talking on your cell phone in the rain just isn't cool. I'm going to have to take it into the shop tomorrow. Oh well. I needed to get a New Orleans area code, anyway...

Well, I'm going to take a quick nap before I drop Julie off at the airport. Keep writing to me, and I'll keep writing back with ever-so-clever responses. Or maybe form letters, depending on whether or not I actually like you...

Jester

A friend just called me up and said she couldn't sleep until she knew whether I was still doing my blog.

It's sad when the drugs start doing that to you.

I was online looking at Toyota Tundras. You know, you can really stack the list of options on those. For fun, I added everything I could think of, and it came out to be a $40,000 truck. Which is impressive, considering they start at 16something.

Pat O'Brien's is going incredibly well. All the other players seem to enjoy working with me, and I'm learning songs really, really fast. I'm mainly worried about football season, when I'll be expected to know every college fight song ever written (I know about 3 and a half).

But the last couple of weeks I've been working six days a week. If that holds out for any length of time, my bills are so going to be paid off soon.

I'm still trying to get a new pic made so I can put it on my website. I'm not very good at taking my pic in the mirror. As you can tell if you look at the pic on the front of my website.

My friend Anna came and spent a couple of days here. 'Twas fun. She had to leave way too soon, though. I would love to teach her how to do the piano bar gig. With her voice and looks, she'd make twice what I do. Of course, convincing her to move to New Orleans wouldn't be easy. But I can dream.

My friend Julie is coming up next week. The guys at Pat O's are so going to think I'm the ultimate playa. But I'm looking forward to hanging out with Julie. We haven't spent more than a day or two together in years.

Also, my friend Katie Parr may be coming up later this summer. I haven't seen her since I had just quit teaching school. So it's been about three years. I'm hoping she doesn't run in horror when she sees me all clean-shaven and short haired.

Frank and Jonathan are supposed to start recording the drums for my rock album next month. I can't wait to hear what they come up with. They are both so awesome, I'm just lucky to have them on board with this project.

Well, that's the news from Lake Woebegone.

Jess

Terry Pratchett is a genius.

During my breaks at work, I usually read a book or two. I had read a bit of Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, but since moving to New Orleans, I have become truly addicted.

Each book satirizes a different topic (or two or three). Last night I read "Maskerade," which makes fun of Opera and musicals (namely "The Phantom of the Opera" by Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber).

Normally I hate when authors write about music, since I rarely read anything that's accurate. Usually any attempts to write about music are painfully misconceived. But every subject that Mr. Pratchett tackles, he manages to sound like an insider writing to the uninitiated.

He manages to sum up so many absurdities so succintly that I often have to stop reading to laugh. Let me quote one passage from "Maskerade":

"Out in front the orchestra was already tuning up. The chorus was filing on to be A Busy Marketplace, in which various jugglers, gypsies, sword swallowers and gaily dressed yokels would be entirely unsurprised at an apparently drunken baritone strolling along to sing an enormous amount of plot at a passing tenor."

Can you count how many operas begin that way? I sure can't.

Anyway, I'm putting him right up there with Asimov, Brust, and Tolkien as my favorites.

Man, everybody's life is a soap opera, but mine. (Not that I'm complaining about mine)

I've got one friend trying to decide between her husband (a doctor) who has pretty much ignored her for the last five years, her ex-boyfriend (a dentist) who treated her like shit, and a new guy (a musician) that's... Well, he's a musician. What sane woman would go with that?

Then I've got one friend who's been breaking up with her boyfriend for several months now. And she's pining for her former boyfriend, who was also her college professor.

I've got one friend whose mother is having an affair with her ex-husband (the friend's ex, not the mother's... Can you say Eeeeuuuugggghhh?!?!?!?)

Meanwhile, I'm just working here at Pat O'Brien's.

It's awesome, the pay is great, the tips are great, the crowds are great... And it's on Bourbon St.

My mojo hasn't caught up with me yet; I haven't gone on a single date here in Louisiana yet. But that always happens when I move somewhere, and the girls here are starting to flirt, so I have hopes for the future.

Frank Favacho (the drummer guy) and Jonathan Fernandez (the everything else guy) met for the first time to work on some of the tunes for my CD. I can't wait to hear what they come up with. But I'm going to have a lot to live up to vocally speaking...

Anyway, more soon.

Remember, you can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose, but you can't wipe your friends on the back of the couch.

Jess

Haha! I'm back!

Okay, for those who read this blog, but didn't know (if there are any such), I've moved to New Orleans. I'm the newest Piano Entertainer at Pat O'Brien's on Bourbon St. Also, I've been without Internet for almost a month. I had the shakes bad, man. Anyway, I'll be posting more soon, but the important thing is JESTER'S BACK!!!!!

How can a house burn up while it burns down? And why do "slow down" and "slow up" mean the exact same thing?

And why is it that in every email system, if you empty a folder, it automatically takes you to that folder, and then informs you that it's empty?

Oh well. Got another song close to done on the Rock CD. I'm really going to have to bust my butt to get the vocals up to the quality of everything else. Jonathan is doing a better job than I thought possible, and I expected a lot from him.

Before drawing boards, what did they go back to? And what was the best thing before sliced bread? Actually, I don't think sliced bred is really that great a thing.

Busy, busy, busy week ahead. So if I don't update too much this week, please forgive me.

Coming soon to the website, though... New pics, new essays, and possibly some short film clips.

Keep in touch, and write me at pianoman@jessmills.com - I might even write back (wouldn't that make you feel oh so special?)!

Got another (rough mix of a) song pretty much done last night. Jonathan is amazing. On this rock CD, it's just going to be him, me, and Frank. Anything else would be completely superfluous.

I still haven't named any of my songs yet. Or the albums. Or whether or not to come up with a name for my group. Hmm...

I'm thinking "Jock Itch and the Flip-Top Weasels" would give us that respect and edge we so desperately crave.

On another note, Monica is recovering from her drinking experience. Note to self; never let Monica have more than one shot of tequila, ever, ever again.

Jess

I have learned an important lesson in life: never go drinking with Monica. Some people can handle their liquor, others are Monica.

Anyway, I'm going to go recover.

Jess

Well, there...

Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food?

Final Four has come and gone. My voice definitely can use the rest. Singing hard for six nights in a row... The good news is that it's not anywhere near as rough as it used to get. But I'm still looking forward to taking a break.

Shouldn't "monosyllabic" have only one syllable?

But I think Pat O'Brien's is definitely going to be a great memory for a lot of people.

Have you ever noticed that "dyslexic" is rather hard to spell?

In other news, Billy Mata wants me to audition for his band. Should prove to be highly interesting.

Why do they call them "stands," when they're made for sitting? And have you ever thought about the fact that you drive on a parkway, but park on a driveway?

Also, Monica and I are supposed to go out tonight. So far, she's 0 for 32 (since I've been counting), but who knows? I didn't bother to make other plans; when she bails on me, I'll just practice.

If it is transported by ship, it's cargo. If it's transported by car, it's a shipment. Does that seem wrong to you?

"The Last Resort Combo" played at the Three Rivers Salsa Festival this last weekend. While we didn't bring home any Grammys, we didn't do badly at all. Especially since we were missing Bob Hurley, and most of our arrangements depend on him rather heavily.

You know, "verb" is a noun.

Alas, our gig at the Hanley B-Day Bash had to be cancelled, due to the weather.

Shouldn't a "building" be called a "built"?

Anyway, that's the news in these here parts.

Jess

Okay, life is going to slow down any moment now, right?

Of course, if it did, the boredom would kill me...

Memo to the world - go see "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." It's the best movie (non Peter Jackson directed) that I've seen in years.

Until "Serenity" comes out, that is (all hail Joss Whedon!!!).

I'm tired, and I'm going to go to bed now. The sun is coming up, and my cave is calling.

Jess

I love being in the rock'n'roll world. Let me give you some words of wisdom from some of my (much more famous and rich) rock brethren. They're so profound, they're... Almost intelligible.

"I'm not a snob. Ask anybody. Well, anybody who matters."
Simon LeBon

"There's a basic rule which runs through all kinds of music, kind of an unwritten rule. I don't know what it is."
Ron Wood

"We use volume to drive evil spirits out the back of your head, and by evil spirits I mean the job, the boss, the spouse, the probation officer."
David Lee Roth

"It's really hard to maintain a one-on-one relationship if the other person is not going to allow me to be with other people."
Axl Rose

"Damn, I look good with guns."
Ted Nugent

"I should think that being my old lady would be all the satisfaction or career any woman needs."
Mick Jagger

Any questions?

Well, after backing out of the comedy club on Tuesday, Monica and Alex and I were supposed to go to the zoo tomorrow. She cancelled.

This would probably be tragic and annoying, if it weren't for the fact that I'm so used to this, that I always make other plans 'cause I know she's going to back out.

What's going to be difficult is if someday she actually wants to do something, and I've already made other plans. But that day is a long day in the future, I think.

This week has been absolutely insanely busy, but I've enjoyed it immensely. I'm back to either gigging or recording seven nights a week. It's less strenuous than when I was working seven nights a week at "Howl" (plus I don't have to listen to Joe Miraglilo's bullshit), but I'm making about the same amount of money.

Money is my friend. Along with caffeine, frozen pizza, and drunk women. What else could a bachelor want?

Well, I'm going to leave you with the following international proverbs:

"He that cannot dance claims the floor is uneven." Hindustan
(I've got to use that one!)

"When one has no needle, thread is of little use." Japanese
(Unless you've read the Pern novels by Anne McCaffrey)

"When the ship has sunk, everyone knows how she could have been saved." Italian
(I'm the king of the wooorrrllllddd!!!!)

"It is not for the blind to give an opinion on colors." Italian
(And yet Hip-Hop fans critique my music...)

"Fault denied is twice committed." French
(Who would have thought the French would have something worthwhile to say?)

"The longer the explanation, the bigger the lie." Chinese
(Let me give you a long explanation about the size of my genitalia...)

Okay, I think that's enough for now. Laters!

Jess

Zappa's Law: there are two things on Earth that are universal; Hydrogen and stupidity.

Green's Law of Debate: Anything is possible if you don't know what you're talking about.

Harrison's Postulate: For every action, there is an equal and opposite criticism.

Man, what a week it's been, and I don't know when it's going to stop.

I've got the first rough track done for my Rock CD. Jonathan is a genius.

St. Patrick's Day at Pat O'Brien's was outstanding. Still recovering.

Tomorrow (later today) I'm driving to Houston to play a Jazz gig with Mark Smith, a friend of mine from college. Then I'm driving back.

Sunday is the official opening of the new choir loft at my church, and I'm working Pat O's again that night.

And so on, and so on.

I'm supposed to go to the Comedy Club on Tuesday night with my friend Monica. So far, she's stood me up at the last minute for every time we were supposed to go out. So I'm not betting on it actually happening. But it would be a pleasant surprise if it did.

Well, I'd better get to sleep.

Jess

I just got through reading Dan Brown’s “The Da Vinci Code.” It seemed to be THE book to read. Everybody is always talking about what a work of genius it is, how intricate, and fast-paced, and unpredictable.

It’s a load of shit.

First off, I haven’t read a book so predictable since my sister talked me into reading the first three “Harry Potter” books (or did I just read the first book three times in a row? It’s hard to tell with that series). The only surprise in the whole book is that there aren’t really any surprises.

Second, it spends a lot of time trashing the Catholic Church. Now, I don’t think there are many who will pretend the Catholic Church is perfect (I’m not a member, nor will I ever be). But it’s done far more good than harm.

Third, I think author Dan Brown has had his nuts clipped, and been heavily into estrogen injections.

The whole book is preaching about the superiority of women over men. It couches it in terms such as “the sacred feminine” and “the natural harmony.” But while it talks about the balance of women and men, what it seems to long for is a world where women rule the world in wisdom, peace and tranquility, keeping us barbarous men from massacring each other.

Now, I’m not a big believer in male superiority. But neither do I believe in female superiority. Or white superiority. Or black superiority. Or Longhorn or Aggie superiority. There are superior individuals in any group, but I can’t think of any groups offhand that I just think are superior (I’m sure somebody will point out an exception to me). And I kinda find the implication offensive, that I’m superior or inferior simply because of my gender, or race, or hair color. My failings and successes are my own.

While I’m tackling this, I’ve been reading a lot of historical fiction that gives rise to the belief that in ancient societies, whether Native American or Celtic or Nordic or whatever, the women were wise, powerful, and the men naturally catered to them and gave them all the respect and devotion so sadly lacking through most of the Judeo-Christian history.

Well, it’s a good thing it’s fiction, because from every study and history book I’ve read, that’s just bullshit.

If there’s one universal truth about Human Nature, it’s that the strong oppress the weak. For most of our history, that’s been mainly based on physical strength. Well, news flash; generally speaking, men are physically stronger than women. For every Wise Woman feared and respected, there were a hundred women treated as slaves. Offensive? Yes. Disgusting? More than I could ever express. But true.

The beauty of technology (no, not just computers, but all technology) is that it has a tendency to minimize the role of physical strength. A scrawny man (such as myself) can drive a car just as easily as a body-builder. And a just society strives to equalize the opportunities of all members, regardless of size, strength, gender, race, food preference, or whatever. Due partly to its high level of technology, our present society, though far from just, is perhaps the most equal that the world has ever seen. And I hope it gets more so. But the key to this is not to elevate women above men. It’s to quit elevating one group over another.

I don’t want to hear about Chivalry; it was a way to highly prize your (female) property. I don’t want to hear about “women’s intuition” and “the mysteries of womanhood” and “Instinctive Women’s Wisdom” or even the “mystical spirituality of the sacred feminine.” That’s just superstitious bullshit created as a reflexive backlash against a cruel and unjust oppression.

I don’t want mysticism. I don’t want pedestals. I don’t want to hear about the sacred natural roles. I want to live in a world where we judge people by what they do, not what they look like, or what group they were born into.

There’s a Garth Brooks song that says (among other great things)

“...and when money talks for the very last time,
When nobody walks a step behind,
When there’s only one race, and that’s mankind -
Then we shall be free.”

Not a world ruled by women. Not a world ruled by men. Not a world better for white people. Not a world better for black people. Not a world where we are told to fit into our “natural” roles. But a world where we can be free to be judged solely on our accomplishments...

That’s the world I want to live in. How about you?

As some of you know, there’s a concerted effort to give “Angel” one more year. The petition to the WB had over 60,00 signatures, last time I looked.

Well, if you want to get involved, there are actually things you can do. For more info, click on the banner at the top of my home page.

Let’s do this thing. Without “Angel,” all that’s left is “Smallville.” And though I love the character of Lex, everything else on “Smallville” is rather predictable.

Talk to you all soon!

Jess

P.S. Heidi - how’s them foreign lands?

This is my long awaited rant on strip clubs and romance novels. This is also in my "Random Notes" section of my website.

I never understood the appeal of strip clubs. Don’t get me wrong, I love to look at beautiful naked women. One of the best things about being a musician is getting flashed by a hot groupie (doesn’t ever happen when I’m playing with my Jazz Combo, though).

But I’ve never quite gotten the point in going to a place where you’re surrounded by gorgeous naked (or mostly naked) women whose whole job is to turn you on, and then you have to go home. It’s always seemed like going to a buffet at a nice restaurant, looking at the food, working up an appetite, then going home and eating a sandwich. Why would you do that to yourself?

I think I get it, now. It’s the male equivalent of a cheap Romance novel.

Now I need to clarify that I’m not really an expert on either strip clubs or romance novels. I’ve only gone to a strip club a grand total of three times in my life, and all three times were to see a girl I was dating. And all the romance novels I’ve read were from one summer staying with a sister who had no other books (I’m a compulsive reader - I HAVE to read every day). So I’ve read about 40 or 50 romance novels in my life. Definitely not enough to make me a real expert.

Generally speaking, I don’t believe that either men nor women write romance very well (there are a few exceptions). But in romance novels (which I think we’ll all agree are mainly written by and for women), there are certain things that almost always apply. There’s the woman and her former boyfriend or husband, but the important thing is The Man. Let’s look at The Man:

Tall, very muscular
Very wealthy, unless he’s a cop. Often poses as a laborer, but actually owns the company.
Very sexually experienced, unlike the woman, who’s either a virgin or had one lover
At first he seems cold and distant, or possibly arrogant, but it’s a cover for his Inner Passion
Often bitter towards women, since he’s never really been in love
A great sense of ethics and morality

But the most important thing about The Man is how he changes in the course of the novel. Somewhere along the way he has an epiphanal moment where he realizes he’s In Love. At this moment, he realizes he doesn’t want any other woman ever again. He can’t stand the thought of being intimate with any other woman other than his soulmate. She’s healed him of his bitterness, and he’s happy for the first time. In return, he rescues her from whatever her situation is, and cherished her forever. They decide on three kids, and an awesome wedding.

Oh, and generally somewhere along the way, he forces her into having sex, but it’s not rape, because she really wants it.

Why am I bringing all of this up? It’s not to make fun of it, it’s to say that this is a fantasy world. It’s a world where the man plays by women’s rules. Women don’t understand how men think (no, you really don’t, I swear), so in romance novels, they create men they can understand. Men that act like women feel men should. I think most women know that men aren’t like the ones in romance novels. But they like the idea that somewhere out there, there’s a man like that.

I think men are a lot more straight-forward than women. We are just as in touch with our feelings; we’re just not as turbulent. And one of the biggest differences is that our sex drives are not really related to our emotions. Yes, we are more relaxed and generally in a better mood after sex, but that’s about it.

For most of the women I talk to, everything changes after sex. The way she feels about the guy, the intimacy she feels that she’s shared. And then there’s often a sense of betrayal when the guy doesn’t seem to feel anything has changed. Because for guys, sex is great, it’s awesome, it’s very much a need. But it’s not any more related to love than any other activity.

Is it more intimate for a guy if he’s in love? Of course, but so is watching a movie with his girl, or listening to music, or eating a meal, even just talking.

Quite often, as a result of this, men lie about their emotions to manipulate women so they can get some sex, and women use sex to manipulate men. I don’t condone either gender for this; I think manipulating another person is disgusting. But I think it’s equally shared by both sides, and I don’t think either one can claim a moral high ground in this.

Now let’s bring up strip clubs.

Like romance novels, strip clubs are a fantasy world, but one where women act men think they should.

When a guy walks into a strip club, he knows exactly what’s going to happen. He doesn’t have to guess what kind of mood the girls are in. He doesn’t have to listen to conversation when he’s not in the mood for it. They don’t want to talk about their relatives, or their feelings, or any of the mundanities of life. The girls are just in the mood to be sexy. They are there to be like men wish women would be. Straight-forward and horny. And even if they’re not, they’re good at pretending to be, or they wouldn’t be able to make any money.

A healthy fantasy life is good, I think. It’s nice to have a place to retreat to, where things make more sense than they do in real life. Where good wins, and everybody lives happily ever after. And I don’t really see any problem with either strip clubs or romance novels, provided that you realize that they’re not even slightly based in reality.

Men; you can pay women to pretend they like you and you turn them on. It doesn’t mean it’s true. Wait ‘til you’re out of money, and see whether they’re still there. Also, if they’re really into you, it’s still not likely they’re going to invite their friends over so you can all “have fun” together (although it does sometimes happen).

Women; even if a man is totally in love with you, he’d still like to have sex with other women. He just knows it’s not worth losing you. He’s probably not going to have an epiphanal moment where his love for you makes him emotionally a woman. We’re wired differently (ask me about the whole “crying” issue.), so don’t expect him to change. Also, make sure he really cares before you have sex, because that’s not going to change his feelings.

Well, that’s enough for now.

Have any thoughts about this? Agree or disagree? Tell me why!

Email me at pianoman@jessmills.com

As most of you know, I am a total Joss Whedon fanatic; in my opinion, without him, there would be no consistently good television on the air.

And soon there won’t be. They cancelled “Firefly.” “Buffy” had a good run. And now the WB has axed “Angel” as it was hitting its stride like never before. Which is saying a lot; I thought nothing would ever top “Buffy,” but “Angel” did.

At least there’s going to be a movie based on “Firefly” called “Serenity.” And if there’s any justice in this world, some TV exec will want a series based on it.

Anyway, I’m rather bummed about this (and my total lack of female company lately). So I leave you with the words of Joss Whedon Himself on this issue (the cancellation of Angel, not my lack of female company).

Jess

“Thanks all for your support, your community, and your perfectly sane devotion. It's meant a lot. I regret nothing (except the string of grisly murders in the '80s – what was THAT all about?) Remember the words of the poet:

"Two roads diverged in a wood,
and I took the road less traveled by
and they CANCELLED MY FRIKKIN' SHOW.
I totally shoulda took the road
that had all those people on it.
Damn."

Joss Whedon

Is it just me, or is spam getting worse?

No, I’m not talking about getting more and more of it: in fact, I get so much, I don’t even try counting. I’m talking about the quality of spam.

It used to be that if I didn’t stop to consider that I didn’t know the sender, I wouldn’t be able to tell at a glance that it was spam.

Nowadays, there are usually all sorts of random letters and misspellings in the subject line. And they refer to me by my email address as if it was my name.

Now, just for the record, I know that there’s no magic pill to make my penis grow to 10 inches long, and even if there was, I’m not sure I’d want it. I know that there’s no beta test of a Microsoft email tracker that will give me 50 cents for every person I forward an email to. I know that Honda is not giving out free cars. I know that there’s no sick kid who’s waiting on us to forward a chain letter so his warped doctors will finally give him his treatment. I know there’s no dead guy from Zimbabwestan whose widow will give me half his estate, if only I give her my bank account info and credit card numbers so she can bring the money into the States.

Furthermore, all the porn ads have begun to look the same (I think I may have mentioned this before): “see barely legal teens doing unbelievable things with large objects in strange holes!”

And I want to see this because? I mean, I’m sure it’s funny, but not funny enough to pay $19.95 a month.

This is a rallying cry to all you spammers out there: do better! Be more convincing! Offer something new, and spell it right while you’re at it!

Okay, I think I really ought to get some sleep now.

Jess

Well, I have been chastised indirectly for not updating my blog. I was reading a friend’s “weekly rant,” and she mentioned that people ought not to claim that they are going to update their blog, unless they actually get around to it.

Guilty as charged.

Things are going real well at Pat O’Brien’s right now. I think my boss is the coolest, and the guys I work with are all great. They’re also a whole lot easier to get along with than the ones at “Howl at the Moon.” A lot less “Prima Donna” attitude at Pat O’s.

I was having a discussion with my friend Kate the other day. She’s on my top five list of musicians that I’ve ever gotten the pleasure of working with; an incredible bass player, singer, Horn player, and arranger. Well, she was telling me about how she loves Jazz, and lives it, and has dedicated her life to the pursuit of it, no matter whether the audiences can really follow. And I respect that thoroughly, and once I felt the same.

But I realized that for me, the music is no longer about me, and what it does for me, and to me. It’s about what I can share with those listening. I want it to be genuine, and I want it to be challenging, and I want it to be emotional. But it also has to resonate with my audience, or I feel like I’m not doing anything worthwhile. I guess that makes me more an entertainer than a musician. But I’m cool with that.

Thursday night I was playing at Pat O’s, and there was this old couple there, celebrating some anniversary. They looked like they knew Yoda when he was just a boy. But the cool thing was that whenver we’d get a good groove going, they’d get up and dance. And man, could they dance. It was one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen. And at that moment is what I live for; what I was doing onstage was giving these people a night they’ll remember for a long time. It was letting them do something that made them truly happy.

To me, that’s what it’s all about. I love Jazz, and I love Classical, but I’ll never be a Jazzer, and I’ll never be a respected Classical player. I’ll visit those worlds every chance I get, but I can’t live there. It’s too lonely. Too many players, not enough listeners.

Speaking of which, I laid down two more scratch tracks for my Rock CD last night. I think it’s all going real well. I’m working with my good friend Jonathan Fernandez; I write the lyrics, melodies and chord progressions, but he does all the rest. I told him that I expect him to make the songs sound cool. I think he thought I was joking.

I do keep hoping that he’ll find a button on his mixer that will make me sound like Steve Tyler.

On the personal front, my life is still a soap opera. I think I’m about to give up on women, though. No, I've never made that resolve before. It should last at least a half-hour.

Heidi, if you’re reading this, I updated my blog. Feel better?

Remember, it’s not the size of the axe, nor is it the way you swing it; it’s being smart enough to realize what century we’re in, and going and getting a chainsaw.

Okay, so that metaphor didn’t exactly work out. But I still prefer chainsaws to axes. I mean, “The Texas Axe Massacre” just doesn’t sound as cool, does it?

Jess

Well, except for the “Random Notes” section, I think I’m done with my redesign and re-organization of my website. I’ve redone every page, and though there are a couple of minor bugs left to fix, I think I’m mostly done.

Next I’m going to finish my first batch of essays for the “Random Notes” section, so I can get that up, and then I’m going to redesign all the merchandise.

No, I don’t have too much time on my hands, or anything.

Ladies, wanna help out and keep me occupied? No? Well, it was worth a shot.

Remember, when life hands you a lemon, that’s your chance to find your arch nemesis and squirt some citrus juice in his (or her) eyes. Always good for the soul.

Jess

P.S. Now I can start writing in my blog about non-work and non-website related topics again. Yay me!

Well, the updates are happening. Pics are done (new ones will come soon), and most of the pages are updated and streamlined. Still working on “Random Notes,” “CDs,” and “Info.” But those will be done soon.

Come back often, check it out, and be sure to sign in the guestbook and guestmap!

Jess

Okay, so I lied about the daily updates. Sorry.

I just got back from New Orleans a few days ago. Awesome. I’ll be writing more about that soon.

I just took over website management from my good friend Herbert Midgley. Although he’s far better at it than I, I just like to tinker with things continually. And it’s not fair to expect him to do that.

So, I’m learning how to create and maintain a website. Never really done it before. It’s very time-consuming, I’m finding out.

So, over the next week or so, things will keep changing, and there will probably be a lot of links that don’t work at first. Keep coming back, and it will all be fixed soon.

Jess

It’s raining right now, and this is the time I love having a tin roof. There are very few things in life I find more relaxing than the sound of rain on a tin roof.

Well, everything seems to be working out at Pat O’Brien’s. I didn’t blow them away on my opening weekend, but I didn’t embarass myself, either. They’re flying me out to New Orleans this weekend, and I am so incredibly excited. I’ve always wanted to go, and not only am I going, but I’m playing on Bourbon Street! And I’m getting paid to do this!

I wish that I was going with at least one friend, though. It won’t be quite as much fun by myself. But I’m hoping that if things work out as well as I think they could, that I can make another trip somewhere down the road.

I’ve lost another friend to Windows XP. Just when I was finally starting to convince all my friends of the innate superiority of Apple Computers, Windows came out with their first stable operating system since DOS (which I still think was a fabulous program). I still think Apple Computers are better (though I’ll be the first to admit they’re a lot more expensive), but without all the bugs of Windows to point out, it’s going to be harder to preach the Gospel according to Macintosh.

I’d sworn off dating strippers, since my last experience with one was so disastrous and painful. But now I’m remembering why I started in the first place; when you work at night, it’s really, really hard to find someone with a compatible schedule. And strippers keep pretty much the same hours as I do. Of course, they all have kids, and that can be tough. And right now, I’m too poor to be dating anybody, and dating strippers is expensive. But still, the prospect is starting to look enticing once again.

I want to build a castle. No, make that a Castle, with a capital “C.” And I want to build it on the top of a hill in the Hill Country of Texas, close enough to Austin and San Antonio that I can still gig there. Most people want their own house, but I want a castle. With secret passageways, and possibly an underground lake (a pond would probably do) where I could play “Phantom of the Opera.” Not that there would be that much opera going on. No moats, though. They stink. And if my castle ever becomes haunted, then I can call in the Scooby-Doo gang to reveal that it’s just Old Man Withers scaring everybody. More on this at a later date.

Well, I’m going back to practicing now. Talk to you all soon,

Jess

Okay, sorry about the long absence in my blog. Here’s the basics.

I got fired from “Howl at the Moon.” First time I’ve ever been fired.

A month ago, I was working my ass of, and I felt I was doing quite well. In fact, I was a little overworked. But the compliments kept rolling in from customers, and the tips were coming in real well, and I was on top of the world.

Well, the new entertainment manager of “Howl” decided that I have no talent. He’s been giving me advice that made no sense anyway, but I followed it because he was the boss. In a situation like that, I smile and nod, and do what the man says; after all, the paychecks come through him. Truth is, he’s a lousy musician that thinks he’s a bad-ass. And on trumpet, he is. But as a singer and vocalist? Not so much.

But all is not lost; I’m on track (though nothing’s set in stone) to start at “Pat O’Brien’s” in a couple of weeks. It’s another piano bar, in fact, part of a much more well known and illustrious chain, based out of New Orleans. The gig is very different, and I’m a little nervous, but I’m also looking forward to it. And from what I hear, they are much more loyal. And that’s something I highly desire.

That’s been the focus of my life for the last few weeks, and I didn’t want to say anything until the smoke cleared.

But for all you faithful readers, the Jester Journals are back online. Expect daily updates!

Jess

Wow. This has been one helluva night.

My career has taken an unexpected turn. Not for the better, possibly, but not necessarily for the worse. More on that, when the dust settles.

In my stupor, I have been distracting myself by reading Chuck Palahniuk books. That man is seriously twisted. His insights into life are undeniable, but I always feel bizarrely disoriented after reading his work for any length of time. Much like watching “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.”

And now I have to get ready for church.

What a life.

Jess

Sometimes the news is a little less than accurate. Not necessarily in a malicious way, but by journalists who don’t truly understand what it is they’re saying.
I just saw the headline “AIDS TURNS A CHILD INTO AN ORPHAN EVERY 14 SECONDS.” Now it seems unlikely to me that AIDS works like clockwork, waiting 14 seconds, then killing somebody else. But that’s what the headline said. For that matter, it seems that it’s the same child being turned into an orphan over and over again.
Sucks to be him (or her).

Now, we all know what they’re trying to say. But is it too much to ask for trained professionals (most of whom have degrees in this field) to know what it is they’re saying? And to do it accurately?

Some other headlines that caught my eye...

“U.S. TO TRY MIDEAST DIPLOMACY AGAIN.” Ooh, that’s new. Has there been a time in the last 30 years when that wasn’t true?

“ARMED GANGS THREATEN MEXICAN TURTLES.” Do I really need to say anything about that? The visual alone keeps me cracking up.

“RUSSIAN SPACE ENGINEERS EAGER TO JOIN U.S.” Well, quite possibly, but I think the story meant to say they’re wanting to work with NASA on the manned Mars mission.

“DOCTORS REMOVE 175 POUND TUMOR FROM WOMAN.” Now, there’s nothing wrong grammatically with that headline. I’m just thinking “OUCH!!!!!” Her tumor weighed more than me! After the surgery, she only weighed 88 pounds. Damn.

“FUEL CELL TECHNOLOGY HAS MILITARY USES.” And what technology have we developed that doesn’t?

“NEW INTERNET VIRUS SPREADING FAST.” As opposed to all of those that spread really, really slowly?

Well, enough news for now. I’m going to read a book and catch some shut-eye.

Remember - if you’re too drunk to drive, take somebody else’s car.

Jess

There is a problem with male/female communications. Some of you may have noticed this once or twice in your life.

It can begin as early as the first conversation:

Man says “Hi.”
Woman says “Hi.”

By now, both sides have received mistaken impressions. The woman is thinking, “Hey, he wants to talk to me.” The man is thinking “She said hi. I bet she thinks I’m hot. We might have sex.”

The truth is more mundane, but who wants to hear that?

Sadly the level of miscommunication and self-delusion rarely improves.

This is partly because we hear what we want to hear. We’ll spin anything to try to fit what we want life to be, or sometimes what we’re afraid it might be. Someone once told me that everybody is the star of their own drama. The older I get, the more truth I see in that statement. We make more of some things than they really are, and ignore the things we don’t want to see.

I think the truth is not that we can’t understand the other sex. It's that we don’t really try. We want them to understand us. We want them to play by our rules, and play our game. We want them to have a leading role as the romantic interest in our drama. We don’t want to star in theirs.

Then again, sometimes you find out you’re just the comic relief.

I’m just gotten out of a really, really bad relationship. Well, it wasn’t really a relationship, but I wanted it to be. And sometimes deluded myself into thinking it was. Really, I was just the poor schmuck who can't believe the bad girl is bad. "No," I thought. "Nobody could lie that much, and that blatantly. Nobody could be that self-centered." Yes, yes they can.

But it hurt a lot, finding out that I wasn’t anywhere near as important to her as she was to me. It’s a position I’ve tried really, really hard not to get into for a long, long time. And had succeeded, until now. But I fell into the trap of hearing what I wanted to hear, because it made life better for awhile.

The longer you deny truth, though, the more it feels like you’ve been whacked upside the head with a 2-by-4 when it finally hits.

Why do they call it a 2-by-4 when it’s not actually 2 inches by 4 inches? That’s false advertising. I ought to use that measuring system when people ask me personal questions about the size of my genitalia.

But life goes on. I’ve met someone cool, and though it’s not a “Love at first sight” kinda thing, we’ve started out with some real honesty. It’s a nice change. I’m really trying to listen to what she says, and not interpret it in guy language. That's not the language she's speaking. And I think she’s trying to understand me. Not on our own terms, but each other’s.

It’s a good start.

Remember - as George. W. Bush said, “Our nation must come together to unite.” How can you argue with a statement that inspired?

Jess