The Entourage Question

Having coffee with friends last night, we somehow got on the topic of being rich; filthy filthy rich, the kind that warrants forming an entourage to follow you around. Who would be in your entourage? We all took this question quite seriously, since we're all expecting to be ludicrously wealthy within the next few years (heh heh).This just might be one of those psychological/personality profiling questions, indicating not only your present perspective of the world but your underlying values as well. The rules were as follows:

1) Five creatures (men, women, or animals)
2) Creatures must be non-fiction (no cartoons or comic book heroes allowed, unfortunately)
3) Creatures may be living in present-day or deceased, though it is assumed you want the "living" version of the person in the entourage (what fun is a corpse to drag around)
4) Family members are not allowed

Some of our responses:
Lauren: Fred Armisen, Amy Poehler, Ashton Kutcher, John Mayer, Justin Timberlake
Gerry: Samuel L. Jackson, Christopher Walken, Mr. T, The Flight of the Conchords (Brett and Germain count as one, we decided), and Conan O'Brien
Calvin: Motor-mouth Jones (Police Academy Movies), Christopher Walken, John Malkovich, McKinley (pet labrador), and the Dalai Lama

Analyze that list, if you dare. Obviously Lauren would be content for the rest of her life as long as she has five comedians around her coloring the world with humor. Gerry... well, Gerry obviously values being both funny and lethal at the same time. As far as my own list, I can only guess why Motor-mouth Jones made the list (in fact, he was the first person that came to mind... I haven't seen those movies in at least a decade. Hmmm). The remaining characters were chosen not for their disposition, but because I'd love to see them in an entourage role. By definition members of the entourage are privy to the indulgences of the head individual, but they are also cast into a strange subservient role. So think about it: McKinley and I wearing matching bling, Motor-mouth Jones teaching the Lama how to sound like a telephone, and the Walken/Malkovich duo just staring at eachother with those unblinking creepy stares that made them famous.

Strange thoughts on this Monday evening. Or as HS Thompson would say, "strange vibrations". That's probably enough for now.

February, 2000 NINE?

Argh! (Think angry pirate, and forgive the amateur onomatopoeic reference). I am getting old. OLD, I tell you. I realize that 28 years of age is not too bad, really, and that just being born in the 80's by default labels me a spring chicken, but the rapid progression of time, the relentless march of the calendar, is disconcerting. I mean come on, February already? In the year 2009? Wasn't Y2K just a year or two back?

Nothing drills home your age like pop culture, specifically when you read about some awesome rock star you used to idolize having quad-bipass surgery or becoming a grandfather (or both). Eddie Vedder, lead singer of Pearl Jam, is forty four years old now. 44! For some reason he shouldn't ever age beyond 29... Also related, my nephew is going to be 13 this year, and recently emailed me to request assistance with some tricky formulas in an excel spreadsheet. I'm over the hill, man.

Keeping on this theme of old(ness), I spent the majority of this weekend winterizing the house. The last gas bill was un-friggin-acceptable and I (like a crotchety, frugal ol' bastard) went to Home Depot and invested in a programmable thermostat, 12 sheets of Visqueen sheeting for the windows, a new tube of caulk-sealant, and roughly thirty feet of weather stripping. I now consider us fortified and properly sealed against the wintry conditions; but yes I feel like an old man. (side note: I managed to install said materials without suffering more than a light shock from the thermostat and a minor skin irritation from the caulk, nice!).

Life is good. No, really. My work situation is resolved and I'll have some good news to share in a few days once it's official.... stress, relief. The week was 100% awesome all the way around, check this out:
Monday: 45 minute run. Felt wicked-phenomenal
Tuesday: Coffee in AM w/ friend, successful progress on work project, 1.25 hr run .
Wednesday: Lift at YMCA, 2-4-1 margaritas at Cafe Ole' (like a moth to flame, I can not stop this weekly indulgence)
Thursday: 1 hour ride indoors, dinner at Gerg's house, Coffee at G&T's house
Friday: 1 hour ride indoors, homemade carnitas burritos at my house with Matt & Charlene
Saturday: 30-minute run, 1 hour bike ride, Thai food with Ron & Amy
Sunday: 40-minute run, 1 hour bike ride, blogging now

Ah... La vida completa. Social, epicurean, physical success. The only thing lacking is a good nap and my week is complete. I think I'll do that now....