The Pants With Nobody Inside Them

I had what I think was the worst migraine of my adult life on Saturday, and I wasted a beautiful fall day in bed with my head spinning and purple blotches clouding my vision. Usually a migraine heralds the beginning of a new round of creative juices for me, but today I feel like the day after my bachelor party, and the less said about that the better.

But here's a scary story for Halloween: I was having all kinds of weird daydreams and nightmares and visions and whatnot during my migraine ordeal and dreamed that the next Polonia Brothers movie would star a mummy. Then Mark Polonia called me on Sunday and said, and this is all true, that they are thinking about doing a mummy movie next. Weird!

That's all I can muster up for today. Happy Halloween, everybody!

Until next time, give me a holler at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Killing Me Softly

I haven't done a meme in a long while, then one shows up in my mailbox from my old pal Gary. Here goes:

1. What is your occupation? Fiber-optics network manager full time, adjunct college faculty part time, screenwriter at night
2. What are you listening to right now? The white noise coming out of the machine racks outside of my office
3. What was the last thing you ate? A tuna fish sandwich
4. Do you wish on stars? Only that my son will get his life together
5. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Cerulean
6. How is the weather right now? Not sure, I am in a windowless basement
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? My boss
9. Favorite drink? RC Cola
10. Favorite sport to watch? High school basketball
11. Have you ever dyed your hair? God, no
12. Favorite past time? Reading, watching movies, writing, drawing
13. Favorite month? June--has both of my kids' birthdays
14. Favorite food? BBQ
15. What was the last movie you watched? I watched Schindler's List again with my daughter against my better judgement
16. What do you do to vent anger? Stew
17. What was your favorite toy as a child? Mego Action Figures
18. Fall or spring? Spring
19. Hugs or kisses? Hugs
20. Cherry or blueberry? Blueberry
24. Living arrangements? A Brady Bunch-style home in a rural area
25. When was the last time you cried? Listening to Johnny Cash sing a cover of Roberta Flack's "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"
26. What is on the floor of your closet? Clothes for Goodwill
27. Who is the friend you have had the longest? My brother
28. What did you do last night? Watched Survivor, Apprentice, and Without A Trace, and read a book during the commercial breaks
29. Favorite smell? Coffee
31. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? Cheese
32. What is your favorite car? Saturn
33. What is your favorite dog breed? Greyhounds
34. Number of keys on your key ring? 20
35. How many years at your current job? 16 years
36. Favorite day of the week? Saturday
37. How many states have you lived in? 2, not counting state of confusion
38. How many cities have you lived in? 3
39. Summer or winter? Summer most definitely
40. How many kids? 2

Give me a shout at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Don't Fear the Reaper

Somebody sent me a link to the Death Clock and I learned that I'm likely to die on May 11, 2018. I guess I'm in my golden years. Unfortunately I'm not set to retire until August 1, 2033.

I suppose I saw this coming. I was trying to defrost a fridge recently with hammer and screwdriver and got a nice healthy cloud of refrigerant in the face. That was a year or two off my life right there. Then there was the day I spent shooting an industrial video in a fiberglass-blowing plant, with little pink threads sticking to everything, which probably shaved five more years off. Not to mention all of the head injuries I've sustained; I have been knocked unconscious at every job I have ever had except for this one, where I just passed out once.

I'll just try to make the most of what time I have left.

I don't entirely agree with this list of Time Magazine's 100 Greatest Books, but I've read 28 of them.

But I've seen 59 of their 100 Greatest Movies.

Give me a shout at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

The Porn Czar of Randolph County

Yesterday was my 18th wedding anniversary, and though my wife and I were fighting colds we kept up with our longstanding tradition of going to inappropriate movies, as we did on our honeymoon in 1987 when we decided to check out a new flick we knew nothing about called Fatal Attraction. We went to see Flightplan and felt a bit morose, then went out for Italian that our stomachs kept trying to reject. It was cold and rainy, as it often is this time of year, which we should have thought about when we loped to the altar only a few months after meeting on a blind date all those years ago, when being a June bride seemed too long to wait. But we sat down and figured we couldn't add up a year's worth of bad days out of the last 18 years, so we are doing well.

Faithful readers may recall when the rumor that I was a porn director swept through my daughter's high school. Her own embarrassment hid it from me, though I noted an uptick in friendliness from the other dads at the basketball games. I came downstairs Saturday night and overheard a livingroomful of my daughter's friends talking about it again, long after I thought it had died. I tried to dissuade them, but I was met with doubtful gazes when I told them the next project was called Sex Machine (and this probably wouldn't have helped--maybe NSFW). I told them that if I was that heavily into porn, I'd probably have a nicer house. Then I started talking about the new Polonia Brothers movie, and the color kept draining from their faces. Eventually it came out that they thought my next movie was not called Black Mass, but Black Ass. Based on this, I'll probably get my own skybox at the high school gym.

They were gathered to plan another toilet paper counterstrike after we were hit again Friday night. It was another weak-ass TP job, but I have learned from bitter experience not to complain too much or be treated to ten times the attack the next weekend. My own daughter looked upon it with a jaundiced eye and wondered how strong her suitor's feelings could possibly have been. I have been trying to break the cycle of violence, but like a little three-ply Iraq, it keeps on and on.

Give me a shout at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

The Long and Winding Road

My Little Brother Harold and I went to the Big Brothers/Big Sisters Recognition Banquet where we were recognized for the one year anniversary of our match. When we went up to get our certificate the announcer mentioned that I had been Big Brother of the Year for our agency back in 1993. Harold piped in with, "And I wasn't even born yet!" Even at that age, going straight for the kidney punch. But I enjoy the banquet because you hear so many moving stories, and you see how important the program is. That's why I've been involved with it for 18 years now.

Along those lines, is it weird to be browsing somebody else's blog and catch a glimpse of yourself? A bit.

I played the Star Wars miniatures game with my (biological) brother Eric and diced up the icebase attack on Hoth. It ended slightly differently with C3PO giving his life to protect a wounded Leia. Might have helped the movies, too.

Lots of potential projects in the hopper, on the heels of the impending completion of Christopher Sharpe's Sex Machine and the Polonia Brothers' Black Mass, both victims of my keyboard. More later; until then, I'm at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Sunrise, Sunset Part 2

I keep reading about Madonna, who spent the 80s and 90s wearing her underwear on the outside and making out with people like Warren Beaty and Dennis Rodman and Brittney Spears, and now doesn't let her kids watch TV or eat ice cream, and I don't feel so bad about the shaggy-haired kid in the Who t-shirt who somehow became an old guy with a buzz haircut working in a basement. So thanks, Madonna.

Speaking of feeling old, my daughter is taking a child development class and has to carry around a five pound "flour baby" and keep it healthy, meaning not leaving it out on a counter and allowing it to be made into a batch of cookies. It's a bit alarming seeing my seventeen-year-old carrying around a swaddling blanket and cooing to it. Even worse, she named it Madelyn Ann, our alternate name for her at birth.

Kind of wish I knew this guy to go get a burrito with sometime.

Until later, I'm at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

There Is No Boon For Which We Do Not Render Service

Looks like the long-awaited premiere of Christopher Sharpe's Sex Machine will be an invitation-only shindig in Oklahoma City over the Christmas holidays. See more, including some neat conceptual artwork, at Christopher's website here.

Actor Brian Berry, who plays "Griff" in the upcoming Polonia Brothers release Black Mass, told me via email that the Bros are pretty much just waiting on some FX and score elements in order to finish up this WWII-era supernatural thriller, penned by yours truly. He also wrote that "we'll always have Germania." So true.

Give me a shout at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Spear for When the Bears Come From Space

This morning as I was driving up the hill to the East Jackson Street bridge a rusty pickup in front of me disgorged a big clanking lawnmower from its bed that began to chug downhill towards me, picking up speed, until I was able to turn gently into oncoming traffic and allow it to skrrrrritccchhh along my front bumper and away. Something struck me as unholy ominous about this and I haven't been able to shake the feeling all day, even though I later found a penny in a parking lot after leaving a meeting.

But tomorrow is another day, and my college's Homecoming Game, and all our hopes have risen when--after being outscored 150-plus to 3 in the first four games--last week our Cardinals scored 60 points in five overtimes. No matter the outcome, it is a tradition for my dad (Class of '61) and myself (Class of '88) to go and cheer them on.

You can learn the fight song yourself, via this instructional film here.

Until next time, Go Cards, and give me a yell at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

More Today Than Yesterday

Too much happening that I dare not put on my blog, so here are some other interesting things going on:

My pal Jay Woelfel talks about his new movie Ghost Lake here.

How cool is this idea?

Finally, I have a chance.

Clever as hell.

This really is pretty much how every project I have ever worked on more or less started.

Give me a shout at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Hoosier-Vision

The new CBS crime drama Close to Home is supposed to take place in Indianapolis, so I thought I would be a loyal Hoosier and check it out. Usually Hoosiers are portrayed on television as toothless hilljacks living in trailers (as we saw in ER last year, when Dr. Weaver found her weather-beaten Hoosier birth mother and then quickly scooted back to the big city), so I was a bit surprised to see this show had nary a mullet in sight. On the negative side, the DA wore a brown suit (the left coast interpretation of midwest fashion, to be sure) and the suspect's mom appeared somewhat toothless and careworn, with a flat twang that Jeff Foxworthy would struggle to understand.
The drama was pretty good, though, about a woman who burns down her house with her kids inside, but whose true motivation comes out a bit later in a surprise twist. Our plucky heroine, Jennifer Finnigan, plays a prosecutor who is trying to juggle family life and the day job, and is an interesting character. We also got a couple of nice shots of the Indianapolis skyline. I will definitely check it out again this week.

Former Indianapolis Colt QB Gary Hogeboom is still alive on Survivor. I am fairly sure that Gary being on the show is supposed to be one of this year's "twists," but Gary hasn't been playing along as he is pretending to be someone else, even though he is a massive physical specimen alongside everyone else on the show and thus might be held in some suspicion. There are many former Colts during the lean years that should hang their heads, but I'm not sure Gary is one of them, though I think his strategy is more centered around not revealing all of the money he made as a pro and then getting kicked off (and his arguments during interviews that he didn't make much money as a pro QB in the NFL falls on somewhat deaf ears, I'm sure). The producers are doing everything they can to out him, though, including a Guatemalan ball game challenge last week and a "throwing at a target" challenge this past week (which Gary stayed out of!). If I see a tackling dummy challenge this week, I'll know it's game on between the producers and Gary.
The funny thing is that Danni, an AM sports radio personality in Kansas City, supposedly knows all about Gary, and even asked him outright if he ever played at Central Michigan, which he denied. Come on, now, how does she know that? If she asked him if he ever played for the Dallas Cowboys or the Colts, maybe, maybe, I could believe she wasn't fed the information. But a Kansas City AM radio personality recognizing Michigander Gary Hogeboom from college football in the late 70s? Now, suddenly, Danni got swapped onto Gary's team. How much reality is in reality television, anyway?

Speaking of my once lowly, now mighty Colts, they are now 5-0 after a modest beating of the once mighty, now lowly 49ers yesterday. Do we dare to dream?

Give me a shout at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Microcinema Milestones

Today I posted the 300th review at Microcinema Scene, "The Hook." It was also the 1,000 story published at the site. That includes over 500 news items and more than 60 articles since we opened the doors on July 6, 2003.

Talk about a long and winding road.

I still love the grassroots DV scene. The guys who made "The Hook" are a good reason why. They are hunkered down in southern Illinois just doing their thing, trying to network with others, attending fests, helping out fellow filmmakers.

You can check them out--and their short--for yourself, right here.

The other day I got a DVD from a high school girl in California, some cutout animations she made into two compelling shorts. I have recently received screeners from England and Hungary. I've been reading about the emerging African micro scene. There are so many voices, so many vistas.

Give me a shout at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Feeling Linky

Filmmaker Joe Sherlock takes a page from my 70s playbook here.

Now this is a neat news story.

I've read 21 of these. Or maybe more when I was a kid, I don't remember.

The website "Sex Gore Mutants" liked Razorteeth okay, it seems. And The Rumor Machine weighs in here.

More later; until then, I'm at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Return to Tora Bora

My dismissive commentary on the girlie toilet-papering we received a week ago was answered this weekend with a "shock and awe" toilet-paper campaign delivered by four strong-armed youths competing for my daughter's affections. Thankfully my wife snapped open the shade before they were through, sending them scurrying off into the night like roaches when you flip on the light, leaving fifteen unthrown rolls behind in addition to the fifteen or twenty that, with ladder and rake, I spent 90 minutes getting out of my trees. My daughter gathered up the fifteen rolls and stored them in her car's trunk. "For revenge," she stated, eyes gleaming. And thus the courtship ritual continues.

The other night we had a large thunderstorm, which was preceded by a sonic boom-sized clap of thunder that brought me out of a dead sleep and into the arms of my wife. For one crazy instant I thought it was an explosion, like the reoccuring dream of my youth which featured a nuclear detonation that peeled the skin from my body (this was during the Reagan Years, natch). I have had trouble shaking the feeling since. Perhaps it is all this news of global warming, cities being evacuated, wars across the globe, gas prices soaring, on and on. There's sort of an apocalyptic feel in the air. I imagine the local mom and pop grocery will be stocking Soylent Green before long.

Give me a shout at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.