Sorry Folks, Park's Closed. Moose Out Front Should Have Told You

In about 5 minutes, I'm going to shut down my computer, take the elevator to the lobby, and leave downtown Los Angeles for what might be the last time ever. Kind of sad. As much as I never really felt totally at home in LA, I have definitely enjoyed my time here, and I will certainly miss it, along with the great friends I've made.

Now that my time on the Left Coast has come to a close, I'm not sure exactly what the future holds for this blog. I think, rather than changing it, I might start a new one, with some differences here and there, but I haven't really decided yet. I guess this is kind of a crossroads for my internet journalism. And yes, I absolutely consider myself a journalist.

Wish us luck on our cross-country drive. We're heading out first thing Monday morning. First stop, Grand Canyon.

Deadly Sins: One Down, Six to Go

I think we've got gluttony pretty well covered after last night's trip to the "am/pm All You Can Eat Pavilion." This was seriously the most disgusting display of eating I have seen or been a part of that did not involve either hazing or some sort of organized competition won by a 78 pound Japanese man. Our unofficial competition was won by Joshua Barkin, who is neither Japanese, nor 78 pounds. I thought about falsifying my eating accomplishments, and when I mentioned this to Josh, he said "Not me. I want the world to know what I did." So, here are our official unofficial tallies:

Jason: 4 Dodger Dogs, 2-3 Nachos, 2-3 Cokes, some peanuts and a mini Baby Ruth bar.

Ben: 5 Dodger Dogs, 2-3 Nachos, 2 Cokes, 2 Sprites, and some peanuts.

Josh: 8 (EIGHT!!) Dodger Dogs, 3 Nachos, 4 Diet Cokes (b/c he's watching his calorie intake), some peanuts, 5 mini Baby Ruth Bars, and a Bud Light. That's him with his 8th, emerging victorious from the concession line.

Impressive, to say the least. It is worth noting that probably 75% of what we ate happened before the game even started. There's something sort of liberating about walking past the concession stand before you've even gotten to your seats, and picking up 2 Dodger Dogs and a thing of nachos without standing in line or exchanging any money whatsoever.

It was somewhere around Dodger Dog #3 that I started saying things like, "Do you think a 30 year old has ever had a heart attack?" and "You know what would have been perfect? If I had gotten a tapeworm yesterday." Jason also had what was probably the line of the night when he looks at Josh and me with a completely straight face and says, "Ok, serious question. Do you think Kobayashi shits solid or liquid?"

There were also some wildly entertaining exchanges involving one of the guys sitting behind us. Here are two of my favorites:


Guy #1 (sees his friend walking down the aisle): Hey, man!
Friend: What's up, dog. Did you work today or what?
Guy #1: No, man, I got fired!

Then they slapped hands and his friend went to his seat. Here was another good one, shortly after the Baby Ruth guys started throwing mini Baby Ruth bars to everyone in the section (Josh already had a pocketful from when we saw them by the concession stand):

Guy #1 (seeing a bunch of mini Baby Ruth bars on the ground in front of us): Hey, man, get those Baby Ruth bars!
Josh: I already have a bunch of them, why do I need more?
Guy #1: I don't know, to throw them at people!
Josh: Who am I going to throw them at?
Guy #1: I don't know, anybody!
Josh: It's not that fun, you know.

All in all, it was an excellent time. I would probably never want to do it again, though. I think I'm still burping up pieces of food.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game...

Tonight I'm going to what will probably be my last game at Dodger Stadium, with Josh and Jason, who are sending me off in style. You see, Dodger Stadium now has an all-you-can-eat section, and that is where we'll be sitting. Beer is off-limits, but everything else is fair game. Nachos, soft drinks, peanuts, popcorn, and yes, Dodger Dogs will be at our fingertips until the top of the 7th. Needless to say, it's gonna be an unhealthy evening. I foresee a salad in my lunch plans tomorrow.

I'll try to update during the game with some pictures of our gluttony.

4-8-15-16-23-42

Mac and Bryant and I went over to The Standard for some drinks after work yesterday. I'd been there a few times - expensive drinks, but a really cool decor. It's on the rooftop of the hotel, and Amanda once saw a couple having sex in one of the waterbed pods they have around the pool. Yes, they have a pool in the rooftop bar. Anyway, I'm not sure this picture came out so well, but we saw Josh Holloway (Sawyer from Lost) there having drinks with some folks. Maybe my last celebrity sighting? Amanda was upset she wasn't there. This makes 3 of the "castaways" I've seen out here, though the first I've been able to get a picture of. I saw Terry O'Quinn (Locke) driving a Lexus on Olympic Blvd, and I saw Naveen Andrews (Sayid) driving his sweet jet black Porsche in Beverly Hills. I'm still on the lookout for Jorge Garcia (Hurley), I figure he'd probably be pretty tough to miss.

LA Proved Too Much for the Man

I'm going back to find (going back to find) a simpler place and time.

Amanda and I are really excited about the fact that we're moving to Atlanta this summer. Our time in California is coming to a close in about 6 weeks. I'll have more on this later, but since it just became official yesterday, I wanted to go ahead and mention it (since nothing feels real to me until I post it on these here internets).

Anyway, I'm sure I'll have some "leaving LA" related posts in the coming weeks, maybe some sort of LA good/bad lists, etc., but since it's now official that we are leaving LA for Atlanta, here's a combo playlist of "Songs About Georgia and Songs About Leaving Los Angeles."

1. Midnight Train to Georgia - Gladys Knight & the Pips
2. Not California - Hem
3. Georgia on My Mind - Ray Charles
4. Say Goodbye to Hollywood - Billy Joel
5. The Devil Went Down to Georgia - Charlie Daniels Band
6. Goodnight Hollywood Boulevard - Ryan Adams
7. The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia - Vicki Lawrence
8. 405 - Death Cab for Cutie
9. Going Back to Georgia - Nancy Griffith
10. Goodnight LA - Counting Crows
11. Sweet Georgia Brown - Brother Bones & His Shadows
12. California One/Youth & Beauty Brigade - The Decemberists
13. Macon, Georgia County Line - Whiskeytown
14. Pacific Ocean Blues - Dennis Wilson
15. Georgia Peaches - Lynyrd Skynyrd
16. California Dreamin' - The Mamas & The Papas

Good enough for now. Back with more later.

FAMIMA!!

Things just got a tiny bit more awesome in my daily grind. I don't know if you've ever been to a Famima!! (it comes with the punctuation, like Yahoo!), but until the other day, I hadn't. I'd seen them here and there, and I'd gazed into them like I was looking upon the Holy Grail, but never gone in. Well, one just opened across the street from my office a few days ago, and let me tell you (and this is going to sound SO ridiculous), it's the best convenience store I've ever been in. If you get as excited about trivial crap as I do, then get yourself into a Famima!! as soon as possible.

In other news, at Ralph's on Tuesday night, I decided to eschew my normal purchase of "brown sugar and cinnamon" flavored oatmeal for a new "cinnamon roll" flavor. My thinking was that I love cinnamon rolls, so how could this really go wrong. Yikes. I couldn't even eat 3 bites of it, and now I've got 9 more packs of it to either waste or force myself through before I can start fresh with the old standby. I'll tell you, sometimes life's tough.

Yeah, But What's the Mileage Like?

Yeah, that's me next to the Batmobile. Don't ask me why, but it was parked on the sidewalk in front of the Hotel Figueroa as I passed it on my way to the bus after work today. I imagine Christian Bale was probably inside, swimming in a fountain with 2 waifish models. More pics below (although I'm not sure why so far below).

GREEKFEST!!!!

Last night, Amanda, Naomi, Bailey and I went to the LA Greek Fest. The food was awesome (I had the gyro and Athenian beer). The girls made wreaths which they wore on their heads. I just watched. While I was watching, I saw the biggest spider I've ever seen. I didn't know they had spiders this big in North America.

Anyway, after they were done, we were watching some people dance on the dance floor, where a DJ was playing some Greek music that seemed to be never-ending. They kept publicizing the Zorba Dance Contest, and Bailey decided it would be really funny to go sign me up. When she did, she was more than mildly surprised to see her own name on the list, where I had put it about 5 minutes earlier. Neither one of us backed down from the challenge, though we tried to talk ourselves out of it a few times. We didn't win the contest (some guy who did the "robot" won, though we think he was some sort of professional, or at least a street performer on Hollywood Blvd.), but in the end, we're all winners, right? Except for maybe the crazy lady in the pink. And the old guy in the purple sequened shirt and shoes who signed up for the contest then bolted before it was his turn.

I've got videos of both my dance performance and Bailey's (she dragged Amanda out there with her also), which I'm in the process of uploading to YouTube and will post when they're done.

(Also, for some reason, I can't get my photos uploaded to Blogger right now. I'll go back and insert them into this post later, after they get over their technical difficulties.)

Man, those Greeks sure know how to party. Personally, I enjoyed being in a place where I wasn't even close to being the hairiest guy around.

I Sipped Bacardi Like It Was My Birthday

I turned 30 a few days ago without much fanfare, which was fine with me, though I'm kind of surprised I didn't post anything on my birthday. Oh well.

Amanda came downtown to meet me for lunch, and she surprised me by giving me a new guitar for my birthday present!!! I was pretty f'ing excited, I will tell you that. I haven't played since my old guitar was stolen when our house got robbed on the St. Patrick's Day Massacre of 2005. Then Thursday night I got another surprise when my friend Neola from Jackson walked into my apartment. That one really threw me for a loop. Evidently I'm pretty easy to surprise, b/c everyone knew she was coming but me.

Had a "birthday party" Friday night at this dive bar in Santa Monica called "The Speak Easy Cocktail." This place rocked. Good jukebox (which we pumped a bunch of money into), strong drinks (I don't know if they were cheap or not b/c I was getting them handed to me by everybody, but I imagine they were), a couple of pool tables, and a Scottish bartender named Ruth. Ruth bought me a drink also. My roommate Josh told me he thinks I might have drank a whole bottle of scotch, but I doubt that. Although it might have been close.

Today Amanda, Neola and I were having lunch and walking around on Melrose, and I bumped into Toby from Rockstar: Supernova. I shook his hand and said "You fucking rock, man, keep it up and good luck," to which he responded, "Cheers, good on ya, mate." Australians are funny.

I'm gonna get some posts about our trip to Hawaii up here soon, with a few pictures, but in the meantime, if you want me to email you the ophoto album, just leave me a comment with your email address and I'll send them along.

Survived ... Barely.

I am DYING! Amanda and I just finished taking a class at Barry's Boot Camp, where my college roommate Mark is a trainer. Damn. It's a good thing I was sweating so much, so you couldn't see the tears running down my face. More on this later, I have to eat breakfast before I pass out.

Sometimes LA Rules

Despite the lack of A/C in our apartment, the traffic, the ridiculous amount of time it takes to get anywhere, the distance from most of our family and friends, and the cost of living, sometimes living in LA is just awesome. Last night, Amanda and I went with a friend of ours who has a good hook-up to see an advance screening of Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. A good movie is a good movie, and a free movie is a good movie, but a free good movie that hasn't even come out yet is just awesome. I wrote a review of it over at The Water Cooler, but you should all definitely go see it when it comes out this weekend, it was hilarious! Super-duper!!

Hell-A

It is so damn hot here. I mean, it's not Mississippi, we don't have the humidity, but we also don't have air conditioning in our apartment, so even without the humidity, it is absolutely miserable. It's like Elaine told Puddy, when he told her she was going to Hell.

I'm going to Hell! The worst place imaginable. With the ragged clothing, and the heat, my God the heat!

I've been sleeping on the couch some nights, and one night last week I had to resort to drastic measures. I went downstairs and grabbed an ice cold can of Pabst out of the fridge just to hold in my hand while I tried to fall asleep. It worked, for a little while, and I fell asleep feeling a little cooler, but then I woke up again about 30 minutes later drenched in sweat, and holding a warm beer. A friend suggested I place an entire cooler next to the bed, so that when one beer warms up, I can switch it out for a cold one. Doesn't sound like a bad idea.

It is actually cooler outside our apartment than inside. We've been trying to adjust by doing things outdoors. Last night we went to see a movie. In a cemetary. It was as weird as it sounds. They do movie screenings at the Hollywood Forever cemetary (which is the creepiest name for a cemetary I can think of) during the summer, and last night they showed Woody Allen's "Manhattan." First time I've seen it, and it was awesome. As if seeing a movie in a cemetary wasn't weird enough, they had a DJ spinning tunes before and after the movie, and everyone sits there and has picnic dinners before the show starts. Nothing like bringing a bunch beer and wine to the graveyard. Just a normal Saturday evening in Hollywood, I guess.

I Don't Roll on Shabbas

But I will roll the day after Shabbas.

Saturday we spent the day at the beach in Malibu with a bunch of friends. It was great, the waves were huge, and we were like 7-year olds jumping around in them. We packed lunches and a cooler full of water (and beer), and some of us forgot to put sunscreen on various parts of our bodies. I got a weird burn on a small strip of the back of one of my arms. I was one of the lucky ones. Frisbees and footballs are much more fun on the beach than they are in real life, I learned.

That night Amanda and I went to the MOCA for some sort of "Night Vision" event. It was pretty cool, they had a cash bar and a DJ spinning tracks in the museum courtyard, and the exhibit was open, so we went inside and checked out the art. Maybe I was just exhausted from the Sun, but I wasn't too impressed, despite the fact that the artist had attended the University of Texas for a brief period.

Yesterday we went out to the Valley (where it really is 10-15 degrees hotter than the city) for my roommate Josh's surprise bowling birthday party. (He's a good bowler but his younger brother bowled two games over 200.) Then we went over to his parents' house to hang out in the pool and have a cookout. It was a really fun day, but I think I spent too much time in the Sun this weekend, b/c I'm completely drained. I did manage to put up my unofficial (b/c I can't remember my previous record) high score yesterday, though, of a 146. I took a picture so the next time I break it, it won't be unofficial anymore.

Flopped the Nut Straight

If you can't spot the sucker in your first half-hour at the table, then you are the sucker.

42 people entered. One emerged victorious. A cash prize plus a designated amount going to the charity of the winner's choice. But most importantly, bragging rights. The thrill of competition and the exhiliration of winning hand after hand after hand, watching everyone else bow out before you.

Last night, I won a poker tournament. I'm as shocked as you are, especially those of you who have seen me play poker. Amanda's USC business school class organized a tournament that I entered, $20 buy-in for $1,000 in chips. Blinds started $10-$20 and increased each round. After the 5th round, you could add-on $2,000 more in chips for another $20 cash. Then it was off to the races.

I was absolutely on fire last night. It was ridiculous. For the first 7 rounds, I was at the same table, with a pretty comfortable chip lead there, but then, as people started busting out, we had to shuffle around a bit to keep the tables balanced, so our table got redistributed among the other tables. I got sent to the table where the reigning champ from the last tournament was sitting (and he was GOOD), as well as one of his best friends, who both had enormous chip stacks in front of them and were very loud about being in each other's faces all night, back and forth on monster pots. I thought I was going to get caught in the crossfire and be done.

I picked up a couple of modest pots there, then something bad happened. Taiki, the champ, sitting to my left (thank God he wasn't sitting to my right), starts making ridiculously large, by-the-book style bets at a seemingly random flop. Everybody else folds, and I think he's bluffing, big time, so I keep calling him, and at one point, I reraised him. I had ace high. He turns over the straight that he hit on the flop (the Nut Straight, incidentally) and takes over 3/4 of my stack. I'm finished. It was a good run, I'm telling myself, and I'm proud of myself for playing well and lasting as long as I did. Two hands later, down to $800, I go all-in and triple-up on king-nine suited. Three hands later, I go all-in again with my $2400 and get three takers, and I quadruple-up to $9,600. All of a sudden I'm back in the game, and in a big way, b/c Victor, the loud archnemesis of Taiki, gets shuffled over to a new table, and I've suddenly got the second highest chip stack at the table. We go back and forth on small pots for awhile, and somehow, in another showdown with Taiki, I take down an absolute monster pot, giving me the chip lead at the table, as well as strike some fear into the hearts of the rest of the folks at my table. When I raise pre-flop on the next hand, Taiki folds and tells me "I can't go against you right now, Ben. I'm scared to death of you."

Now, everybody is just trying to tread water until we get down to the final 7, where we consolidate into one table and everybody gets some cash no matter what. We've got 4 left at our table, 5 at the other table, and we hear a huge roar at the other table, followed by chants of "Final Table, Final Table!!" Evidently, there was a big pot going, and 2 guys busted out on the bubble, leaving the 3 remaining to combine with our four.

Final Table. We do a quick chip count to see who's got the lead. I'm not thrilled to find that my $41,500 is in second place. I don't remember what Matt had, but he was in the lead. They also announce at this point the cash payouts for the top 7 finishers. 7th place gets $80. First place gets $556. Quite a jump there. A few people busted out in 7th - 4th place, and we're left with Matt (the chip-leader), Taiki (the reigning champ), and me.

At this point, I'm in third place with my chip stack. I go all-in with King-Queen off-suit into a monster pot against Taiki, my tournament life on the line, he has an ace in the hole and the flop comes Ace-Ten-Six. I got nothing. The turn comes with a Four. I'm finished. I stand up and start to reach over to shake his hand when the dealer says "Wait, a Jack can save you." I stand there, nervously, waiting for him to flip the river card over. Jack of Spades. My new favorite card in the deck. Monster pot. I'm back in this thing like a madman. Taiki's down to about $12,000 and busts out to Matt in third place. (Incidentally, with this, Matt added an extra $30 cash to his winnings, b/c they have a tradition where there is a $30 bounty on the reigning champ, and whoever busts him out wins it. I'll have to defend myself next time.)

Matt and I go back and forth on the blinds for awhile (which were up to $5,000-$10,000 at this point), until I chopped his legs out from under him on a post-flop reraise, which he quickly folded. Next hand he goes all-in with about $15,000 or so, and I call with King-Six of clubs just to see what he had. I think, he had Eight-Two. I hit a King on the turn and took the pot, the cash, and the title, and got to send $300 to Camp Dream Street. All told, it was an outrageously fun time. I know that next time I'm probably going to bust out obscenely early, but it'll still be worth it.

In the words of Mike McD, f*ck it, let's play some cards.

Worse Than Ezra

Well, in keeping with what seems to be the theme of my 2006, I did not go to the Better Than Ezra concert, even though I had a ticket. Here's what happened. My friend bailed on me today, which sucks, b/c I wasn't able to find anyone else to take her ticket. But whatever, no big, like I said, I've been to concerts by myself before.

So, I show up at House of Blues around 9:30 (doors opened at 9), and I fork over the $15 for parking since it's full out pouring and I didn't feel like trying to find a spot 2 blocks away for free and getting soaked on the way to the club. After getting my tickets from the Will Call, I found out that BTE wasn't taking the stage until 11:15. No band ever comes on when they're supposed to. Remember the line from Guns N' Roses' "Mr. Brownstone?" "The show usually starts around seven, we go on stage around nine." They're not kidding.

Then I made my way over to the line of about 50 or so people who were waiting to get in. In the rain. I stood in line for about 3 minutes, didn't move an inch, and said "screw it." There's no way I'm standing in line in the rain for at least 20 minutes, then hanging out inside while waiting for the band to come on for an hour and a half by myself. I put the tickets in my pocket, walked back over to the valet guy, and asked him for my car back, and my $15. Thankfully, he looked favorably upon me (am I that pathetic that I'm getting sympathy from the valet guy??), and handed me my money back. So I went to Blockbuster and picked up some crappy horror flicks that Amanda won't watch with me, and I came home. Redeye sucked. I'm going to watch Saw II tomorrow, I'll let you know how it goes.

I was going to do a post about other concerts that I've been to, but I'm tired now, so that'll have to wait until later. Luckily, I'll catch Better Than Ezra next month when I'm in San Francisco for Bay to Breakers, so it's not a total loss. Just mostly.

Leavin' on a Midnight Plane to Georgia

Amanda's taking the redeye to Atlanta tonight to go visit her family for Passover, which means that I'm effectively a bachelor until Sunday. Let's hope I can hold it together long enough to remember to not eat popcorn for an entire meal.

In other news, there was a blood drive today at my office, so I gave blood at lunch. Along with doing what I can to help save lives, I got free apple juice and chocolate chip cookies. There's your real reward, no matter what anyone says.

You Live For the Fight When That's All That You've Got

We went karaoke-ing tonight for our friend Naomi's birthday. Amanda and some friends sang some Bon Jovi. We also did a fairly crappy rendition of Johnny and June Carter Cash's "Jackson". Good times.

Sharps and Flats

Kids, music has it's highs and it's lows, it's sharps and flats, if you will, and today I experienced them both.

First of all, I scored a ticket to go see Jeff Tweedy (founder and lead singer of Wilco) on Sunday night, and I'm pretty f'ing excited about that. I'm still looking for another one for Amanda, because I'd much rather go with her than go by myself, but I'll go by myself if that's what it comes down to. I've seen Wilco four times, but I've never seen a solo show by Tweedy. I've heard they're great. Check back in a few days for the review.

Secondly, I just finished a great biography on Jimi Hendrix that I picked up from the library the other day. It's called Room Full of Mirrors, and it was written by the same guy who wrote the Kurt Cobain biography Heavier Than Heaven (which I still desperately want to read). Room Full of Mirrors was awesome. For some reason I've long been obsessed with the rock stars who died at age 27, so this book was right up my alley. I not only have a new appreciation for many of Jimi's songs, but I learned some interesting things, such as the fact that before Jimi really made it, he was in a band for a short while with Tommy Chong (later of Cheech & Chong). I also learned that one night when Jimi flew into a drunken jealous rage in a pub in London and began to hit his girlfriend with a telephone receiver - and this part is a quote from the book - "at that moment, Paul McCartney and John Lennon walked into the pub and calmly took the phone from Jimi's hands." Now, I am in absolutely no way condoning violence against women, but to be put in your place by Paul McCartney and John Lennon? That's just unbelievable.

What about the lows, you ask? Well, as you may know, the Grammy Awards took place today. In Los Angeles. A block from my office. And, as you may also know, I take the bus to and from work. Today, though, the buses had been re-routed through downtown LA, but they really did a piss-poor job of telling anyone about this. I even checked the MTA's website before I left work. No advisory whatsoever. So I head to the bus stop, right in front of the Staples Center, and I'm waiting there for about 15 minutes, when I notice a yellow 8 1/2 X 11 piece of paper taped to a light post maybe 10 yards from the bus stop. Nothing on the stop itself, mind you. Nothing near the bench, or on the post with the schedule and information. After trying to read this poorly worded MTA advisory (it was like trying to read Sanskrit), I decided I'd walk to where the streets weren't blocked off anymore and just get on the bus there. Unfortunately, that was about 1o blocks away, in the wrong direction. After waiting for the bus at the new stop for about 10 more minutes (with a LOT of people), I got on an extremely crowded bus with what seemed like about 85 other Angelinos, most of whom had yet to see the inside of a shower today. Needless to say, the ride was less than less than enjoyable, and I blame the Grammys.

Today's lesson: Read about music, listen to music, go see live music, but screw the people who pay for and promote the music. I'd like to see Clive Davis hop on the 328 and see how he enjoyed the detour.

In Your Honor

I decided to make this weekend my "In Your Honor" weekend.

For instance, in honor of Jack Bauer's triumphant Ali-like return to Prime Time in 24, I decided to drink some Jack Daniels while I watched, before heading over to some friends of ours' annual MLK weekend party.

In honor of such fallen heroes as Kurt Cobain, Elliott Smith, Nick Drake, and many others, Amanda and I went to the Ecstasy: In and About Altered States exhibit at the Museum of Contemporary Art. All of the "pieces" and "installations" were either about drugs, made with drugs (or while on drugs, probably), or designed to simulate the feeling of being on drugs. It was actually really cool. The strangest thing I saw there was a fountain, in a large glass case that was not entirely inaccessible to the general public. Just a white fountain, with what looked like a small amount of water flowing through it. We walked over to the wall, though, to read the description, and were absolutely astonished to learn that it was not water flowing through the fountain, but LSD. LSD!! Probably one of the ten most mindblowing things I've ever seen.

And in honor of the aforementioned Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., I decided to join a gym. I'm not sure what the connection is there, though I certainly feel like there might be one somewhere. Regardless, Amanda was happy. Not as happy as if I'd given her Valentine Flowers, but hey, it's a start.

What's the Spread on the Game? Lakers by 6.

Tonight I made my debut at the Staples Center for the Laker game. My friend Warren clerks for a judge and he wound up with 4 tickets for tonight's game against the Pacers. Amanda had class, so he brought a co-clerk along with his wife, Lindsay, and me. Around 3:30 this afternoon, he called me with the location of our seats. Half-court. First row. Fairly unbelievable seats, maybe the best I will ever have in my life for any sporting event. The game was a lot of fun, I'm not much of a Laker fan, but when you're sitting that close, it's easy to root root root for the home team. Along the way we saw some folks you might recognize. Regardless of how it sounds, I was really hoping for an Adam Brody sighting, but no such luck. I had to settle for these guys instead.


That's us standing in front of our amazing seats. That's me on the left. Warren's the one in the Mardi Gras outfit.


The man, the myth, the legend. Jack Nicholson.


Tom Petty, looking pretty haggard. Looks like it might not be long until the Wilburys are playing a reunion show.


If my camera were worth a damn anymore, some of the other pics might have come out better. We also saw Donald Sutherland, as well as former Pacer and Cheryl Miller's little brother, Reggie.

I think the best part of the night for me, though, was when the Lakers came out at the end of halftime and started warming up, I caught former Longhorn Chris Mihm coming off of the layup line, and I was literally maybe 10 yards from him, so I stood up and screamed "Mihm!" and gave him the Hook 'Em sign. He smiled, nodded, and flashed it right back, proving once and for all that once you are a Longhorn, you are always a Longhorn.

Goodbye, and Good Luck. And if you want to see the rest of the pics, let me know and I'll email you the photo album link.