Blog Master G

Wow. What a week. I just returned from my super-intensive 4-day Autodesk Leadership Program. I’m quite exhausted, so I feel almost like I’m in a dream state. I’m sure I’ll sleep well tonight. But more on ELP later…

Now I’m just beginning to go through my huge influx of email (at least 50 emails in my inbox since I last checked early Tuesday morning) while I wait for Jen’s ferry to arrive. Among the goodies are the following:

Over the weekend Jen stumbled across the ideal family adventure: Thanksgiving on the Serengeti. We won’t be traveling to Africa for an actual safari, but we will be heading to Santa Rosa on Thanksgiving day for a 4-course meal in an African tent at Safari West. How cool is that?

Not only do Jen and I (mostly Jen) not have to worry about cooking that day, but we’ll have what has got to be on the most unique Thanksgiving meals possible — with giraffes watching over us.

As we walked through the Metreon‘s R-rating security checkpoint for the 2:40 showing of 8 Mile on Saturday afternoon with 40s tucked away in Jen’s purse, I certainly didn’t expect to enjoy the film as much as I did. I did have a feeling it would be good, but it surpassed my expectations.

I didn’t think much of Eminem before seeing the movie that’s loosely based on his early rap career in Detroit, but there’s something to be said for a guy who grows up with nothing and rises above the crowd in the bitter, tough world of gangsta rap.

The movie isn’t as much about being a bad-ass or the toughest rapper on the block as it is about making the most of one’s talents to get away from a city that will only stifle talent. Yet in trying to escape his roots, Eminem’s character Rabbit remains proud of who he is (“So what if I’m trailer trash and live with my mom?”) and where he comes from — the 313 (Detroit’s area code). Unlike the rival rap posse, Free World, Rabbit and his crew represent all of Detroit, wanting to make the city proud during his rise to fame.

What I particularly enjoyed about the social structure portrayed in the film was the unspoken code of conduct. In one scene, Rabbit and his crew jump the Free World posse with flying fists and tempers. As the tension of the scene mounts, the fumbling Cheddar Bob of Rabbit’s crew pulls out a handgun and fires a shot in the air. In other gangsta movies, that would’ve been the end of it. But not in this movie. The fighting stops. Rather than being fearful of the guy with the gun, everyone yells at Cheddar Bob (who later becomes MC Bob) in disgust — telling him to put the gun away and asking him what the hell he is doing with a gun. Cheddar Bob crossed the line by drawing a gun. In this world of competitive verbal dissing and the occasional fist fight, the unspoken rule is that guns are not OK. Everyone understood that and no one crossed the line. Of course, the scene ends with Cheddar Bob hurting no one but himself.

This funny movie with a great story and wide range of emotions not only humanized Eminem for me, but (gulp) almost makes me want to go out and buy an album of his.

Tonight we bowled with Winona Ryder. She was in lane 4 and we were in lane 3 at the Yerba Buena Bowling Center in SF. I also bowled my highest game ever: 188.

Jen, Jess, Ben, Enoch, his new friend Crissi, and I hit the lanes after watching 8 Mile at the Metreon. Lo and behold, there was Winona. Bowling on a Saturday night just like us. We all agreed that celebrities make us nervous. It’s this weird feeling. We didn’t actually talk to Winona and we all tried not to stare too much, but it was cool bowling in the lane right next to her. She did this weird little bowling dance where she took a few steps forward, a few steps back, then rolled the ball down the lane. At one point, Enoch went ahead and bowled, interrupting this dance. I heard her make some comment and gesture toward E.

We didn’t take any pictures, like we would have on any other night out, probably due to the weird there’s-a-celebrity-right-next-to-me feeling — the thought that Winona would think that we were gawking at her. Of course, I would’ve only snuck her in in the background of the pictures. But still. It’s weird being around celebrities. They’re people just like anyone else, but you feel like you know them. Like you want to say hi but you want to leave them alone and let them have their own, private lives.

So we just bowled. And so did Winona. She wasn’t very good. She only bowled about a 55 or so. She was wearing an old Pink Floyd concert shirt under her fancy jacket and with her designer jeans.

It will always make a fun story.

Last night I ventured out into the wild storm and headed to Marin Joe’s for dinner with Jen and Dad, who were carpooling there from the city after work. The place was great. It was a slice of Old Marin as it was in the 1950s, before all the attitude and neuve riche came to town. The deep brown interior and homey atmosphere exuded just the image I’ve always pictured of my Dad growing up in Greenbrae in the late ’40s, ’50s and ’60s. Appropriately, we sat in the booth where my Dad, my grandparents, and aunts and uncles all used to sit as early as 1954, when Marin Joe’s first came to be.

The food was delicious (Jen had the salmon, Dad the steak, and I the swordfish), but the experience was more about the ambiance and being together with family. It was a really fun night and worth venturing out in the torrential downpour.

Yesterday brought the season’s first big storm, and the first rain we’ve seen in about 6 months. And rain it did. So much into the night that fallen trees draped the roads, electricity was shut off until at least 4am this morning, and everywhere was flooded. Going back to Emeryville after dinner, Dad even had to take a really long route via Highway 37 and back through the East Bay, since the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge was actually closed due to construction equipment falling all over the place from the wind. Apparently all the lights on the Bay Bridge were off, too.

Of course, with a storm like that and no power comes a very soothing, relaxing environment. Jen and I lit candles and just enjoyed being together. The dogs didn’t even seem phased by the heavy rain, wind, and occasional thunder and lightning. As Jen put it, dogs never use technology anyway.

Yesterday morning I sent what I thought was a really funny email to some friends, suggesting plans for Saturday. Apparently the prospect of seeing Eminem’s new movie is quite the controversial topic, as it kicked off on array of hilarious responses. With 40s in hand, Saturday is bound to be a lot of fun.

I love squirrels. I have this inexplicable obsession with them. In college, my boy Enoch sketched this amazing strip called “Earl the Squirrel.” To date, it is the greatest cartoon ever produced. I own just one Beanie Baby: Nuts the Squirrel. My Dad tells this story about when I was a young boy, running wild through the woods of Yosemite. He sat me down and suggested I take a deep breath, relax, and enjoy nature. A minute later, I yelled, “But Daddy! Look at the squirrel!” And off I went.

Despite my adoration for squirrels, the fact that this squirrel was gunned down in a place fittingly called Knutsford really cracks me up. And as fucked up as it is, the image of a squirrel attacking a little girl and biting her in the face is hilarious.

I know. I’m sick. But I love squirrels. I can’t help it.

Today is a sad day for the world. Following yesterday’s elections, California Gov. Gray Davis, the lesser of the two major evils (along with Bill Simon), thankfully retained his position, but control of the Congress now sits in the hands of the GOP. With Bush in the White House and his cronies running Congress, I fear for what is ahead for this country and the world.

People just don’t get it. Republican politicians do not care about them. They care about money and their own political advancement. They are paid off by large companies and the auto and oil industries. Why else are we on the verge of a war with Iraq?

As Jonty said in IM this morning, it will take a revolution to turn things around. I think he’s right.

Jen followed her heart and voted Green (Camejo for governor). Good for her. I voted Davis because I was afraid Simon would win. He almost did. But Jen’s action is admirable. Until every liberal follows his or her heart and votes for someone who will actually make a difference in the world, effecting change for the better, we have little hope of the state of the world improving. The people will continue to be bullied around and led to believe that corporate-owned politicians really do care for them.

Let’s hope for that revolution. Let’s effect change. Let’s make Nana proud.

For the first time in my life, I now have vanity plates. This morning on the way to work I swung by the Corte Madera DMV to pick up my September 11th memorial plates that read “G WRX.” Any guesses what that means? It’s a small thing, sure, but pretty cool, I think.

This is officially my 3rd after-market modification, if license plates count as a mod. It joins my tinted windows and rear bumper cover.

With mods like these, I’ll be winning car shows and drag races in no time.