Birthdays and birthday suits.

Isn't it funny how we mark special occasions with ritualistic behavior. We blow out candles for wishes' sakes, we christen boats by smashing champagne bottles over their hulls, We extend blessings when people sneeze and yet nothing when they fart. On New Years Day many people mark the new year by jumping in the ocean, temperature be damned. Why is it so many of us when in our twenties decide to mark our birthdays by getting naked?

Is it a back to basics? Is it animal foreplay with the universe? Why do we jump into our birthday suit and start running a lap of victory? We don't necessarily call our parents and say, "Hey thanks for having the sense to not watching tv so many years ago so that you guys could make me. I really appreciate it today." I'm sure they appreciate their dna being bandied about in an uppity bar in Santa Monica with a blond bippity as jewelry on their precious labor. And yet it happens. Most of my twenties were spent with my pants dropped, my nipple exposed and my feet bare. There was always something that needed to be regarded with my physical side. In our twenties do we think that this is our only commodity? I certainly was the social one.

I had the privilege of attending a bday soiree last pm and witnessed the same behavior happening around the bar. The guest of honor enjoyed the bacchanalian worship. Other patrons in the place experienced similar joy. Maybe it's just part of the mating ritual but I can't help but see more meaning in it. It was late in the evening and yuppies were pairing up, but these acts pop up so frequently in celebratory events. It's been around for centuries. Maybe it's a tribute to Adam and Eve. Getting back to basics, as simple as it can be, and embracing joy. Exposing yourself is as old as the moon. Literally. (drops pants and moons monitor)

Sebbeth

It's an addiction this tattooing. I love my first one I got fifteen years ago, as the art form was getting it's rise.

I was in Auburn, NY and it had been an annoying day where we had done 'Aladdin' in two different venues in the same town. The load in and outs had been in the rain which made the day that much more bliss. I should also mention that this was probably our one thousandth performance of this children's theatre Chinese drip torture, we had begun in early June it was now October. I was the evil magician and if I got my hands on that little street whelp Aladdin, I would kill him; the cast was ready to kill each other. One quick corner with a magic carpet and I was going to put him right through Agrabar. Aaaaah non union theatre in the woods, it's as manly as hair on your buttocks. I digress.

Reba (The Genie) and I had decided we would get ink together and just had to get the date down. We looked at each other at the last load out and said 'Now', our bonding over ill fitting set pieces, too many c-clamps, and stinky costumes had brought us to this point. We would mark the occasion with ink, and if the pain was as good as we'd feared it would be a blessed alternative to where we had brought our lives. Don't misread this, we were overly dramatic, as was our prerogative. We were in the woods, delivering 'Quality Theater At Affordable Prices' and we'd been sharing a van with 2-3 other strong personalities. This was high drama at high altitudes. Off to Tatu Tony's just by the prison. The artist in residence, Tony, had 69 tattoo'd on his lip. We were so in the right place. Reba opted for a simple piece (I'm not sure if I should even divulge that she has one she's a soccer mom now) and mine as well. A simple Chinese character on my ankle, the pain was nothing. The worst part was the cramp I got from holding my leg up on an angle for soo long. For fifteen years I've loved my first and have eagerly wanted my second.

It's addicting. So I swore that one of the Sebbeths would be a tattoo. But what to get? And where? These were newbies problems. Get a set Spats. Get a set and get it done. Jen turned me on to an artist in the neighborhood who was clean and good. I just needed the specifics; location, art and deposit to secure an appointment. My this art form has come along way from the side of a prison. I began thinking it over and for a longtime have wanted a monkey on my back (hee hee). I narrowed the research to tribal and cartoon. I stumbled on some original Oz art and thought that might be genius. Marking my fortieth with a flying monkey, how Wicked. And it was my first professional job after college, and the first show little Julia saw me in back in 91 in Davenport Iowa. Another two stories entirely. The shop got me right in and here's my latest brethren, Balthazar (like Getty but more). I was sitting in the chair imagining where the next tattoo would be. And the next. This is addicting.

Sebbeth.

here we are again. speeding towards oblivion. I mean towards the next stage not total darkness. I'm on that shady side of the thirties most definitely. I'm in a position to recreate myself in the land of make believe where people have to do this or become boring. Los Angeles is the original town where you can stick a feather in your hat and call it art or haute cuisine. No one would dare shout that The Emperor has no clothes for chance their own nudity would be exposed. You can be whoever you'd like and no one will bat an eye. They'll bat if there's a gift bag involved.

I've decided to expand my minister enterprise and bring more people to the chapel than Elvis Presley. Marry me Bill, I love you so. I want to do this in a more commercial status and launch a website and get networking. You know how social I can be. I decided this Sebbeth would be a commitment to the new project and I enlisted my friend Jen to take some new head shots for my portfolio. We met for an enormous breakfast at the Griddle Cafe in HWood on Sunset and made our way to Melrose area. It's not unusual to see white trailers and crews in this area, filming away. It's even less unusual to see a photographer, strapped with equipment lead her subject around in search of great natural backdrops. Like some surrealist wildlife we traipsed through back alleys and side streets, parking lots and intersections as if it was our forest. We had amazing success and lots of laughs. With my wardrobe on my back and a smile on my face we made our way to Fred Siegel where we enjoyed a Peroni, Pellegrino and a peak at John C. Reilly (jen's fave actor).

When the website's up you'll be first to know. Here's the pix.

Bastille Day.

There's always a reason to celebrate in this year of joy. Bastille Day is just one of them.



The actual holiday is July 14Th and it commemorates the first anniversary of the storming of the French prison, The Bastille in 1789. This act led to the dissolution of the French monarchy and the rise of the French nation. Cheese eating surrender monkeys. F the french. I have animus from many years in food service and dealing with their representatives. Makes me want to storm them in revolution. I guess Bastille Day can be celebrated in many different ways.

7.11

Freeeeee Slurrrppppeeeeeeeeees!!!!!!!!!

Do you think this an urban myth? Do you expect to be found at the bottom of an over sized cup of semi frozen, semi carbonated cherry beverage with a bandage pressed to where your kidney used to be? Well let's debunk this urban myth (yeth?) right here and now as we find another cause to celebrate in the 12 Days Of 40.

On July 11Th of every year, the Seven Eleven Corporation celebrates it's company's birthday as well as Customer Appreciation Day. It does this by giving away free 7.11 ounce Slurpees to their loyal following. Heresy! You don't know what a Slurpee is? Here's your tutorial and be glad that I can't tase you bro, right through your keyboard. A Slurpee is all that's magical next to the laundry mat that claims your morning in the blistering sun. A Slurpee is all that's right after your little one drops the fly ball that would have defeated Ace Hardware's Little League team. A Slurpee is how you end a long day of furniture shopping in the San Fernando Valley furnace heat. This is an oasis this Slurpee. To hear that a major company is giving away it's crown jewel just to say thanks is pretty neat. It rallies the troops to visit.

One might believe this to be a clever marketing ruse to get you in the doors and bamboozle you into taking a hot dog home for seventeen fifty, but dear readers, this is not Scientology. Hot dog taking and bamboozling aside, Seven Eleven wants their patrons to know how much they appreciate their business and to say "Thank You". Have you ever heard of such a thing? This tradition began in 2002 when the company was celebrating it's 75Th birthday and with such response, continued the tradition. Now it would be crazy to mass market something of this nature as every Tom, Dick, and Thirsty would overrun the city, so leaving it to 'word of mouth' has created a phenomena. I would compare the feeling of this unofficial holiday to that of International Talk Like A Pirate Day or even Melonball Thursday. A grassroots movement that is based in generosity, what could be more beautiful?

It has created a following that looks forward to this day each year. My only hope is that the sanctity of it remains unblemished. I mean look what happened to Burning Man, Key West and Ed Hardy. Too much scum and not enough pond. I hope you were able to get yourself a freebie and a smile this past 7.11, at Seven Eleven, with a 7.11 ounce Slurpee it makes summer smile, really. And keep in mind the new exciting flavor coming soon......Black Ice; it's a slushy version of the carbonated energy drink Monster that is in most Angelenos hands nowadays. Add a pink straw and your homefree.

Bull!

The Running Of The Bulls takes place in Spain and some southern towns in France on July 6-14th. It is during the festival of San Frermin. This offering was to beseech the blessing of Saint Fermin for the townships. The festival was made passionate with this demonstration of bravado. The most famous of these events takes place in Pamplona, Spain where today the first day of the bull run began. The Encierro (from spanish v. encierrer for to shut in or lock up) is a well documented media byte that always catches my eye. I can think of so many better things I could be doing at that moment. Flossing, poaching, watering, shaving, nairing anything butt. (He said 'butt')Though most attention has been on the Pamplona Encierro historical records show the run dates as far back as 1215. Steeped in tradition, history hasn't trampled encierro's importance.

The Encierro begins on the 7Th and continues for the next seven days, each day at 8:oo am. (again why be up that early) The ground rules are simple to participate: The runners must be over 18 to run, they must me not under the influence of alcohol and are forbidden to run in the opposite direction. This kills me. And I'm sure many of the runners. If your internal GPS is so under the influence of sangria or immaturity that you can't but help charge into a herd of oxen, I suppose there's a reason that your father gave you the day off from the carnicerria. Charge on mi amigo. Rapido. Tradition also asks that the runners wear white with red kerchiefs and sashes. The red will appeal to the bull's sense of fashion/gore and will bring the level of intensity to that of the final two episodes of Project Runway. Runners also may carry a rolled up newspaper to keep the bulls attention. Maybe bulls would be happier with the op-ed page, do they really need to get the information right across the pierced nose. Come to think of it that's how most American high school students have to get their education. Maybe somethings steeped in tradition are relevant today.

I'm thinking of redesigning the whole tradition and keeping it veal, I mean real. I'm thinking of making it much more cazsh (casual). It would be, Bull Durham, CT. The participants will be aged Realtors with flaxen hair pulled back with a red ribbon. They will be in white convertible SAAB's with their Blackberrys in their hands, to replace the newspaper. The encierro will be replaced with Route 81, a lazy road that winds adjacent to the highway Rte. 9 South that connects the Shoreline with center of the state. We won't use wooden planks but we will use State Troopers with tasers to keep the bulls on Route 81. In Bull Durham CT, the oxen are given meth (popular in the woods of CT) and shown pictures of Trish Walsh-Smith (the crazy divorce lady from YouTube) and then prodded to run. The realtors will remind the oxen of the photo stimuli and thus commence the real test of wills; a methed-out bull vs a bad market stressed realtor who's late for an appointment. The challenge is is that the road is narrow and passing will be tough. Let's see who's hide is thicker, and who has meat for dinner.

I really don't think these things through. They just come to me in visions.

July 4th

To some people The Fourth Of July is a bad movie with Tom Cruise. To some it's an excuse to clean out their fridge. For some people, it's a national holiday and reason to barbeque and see family. Whatever your reason is today to celebrate the fourth, I hope you mark it well and surround yourselves with the best. I've done my fridge and now I'm off to surround myself with the very best fish.

Peace!