Take heed, 'cause I'm a lyrical poet

I'm a big fan of parody in general, of song parodies in particular. I've written dozens of my own over the years; the earliest one I can remember was a collaboration with Leslie Allard and others during my junior year of high school (we changed the words to "Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm" for a class project on Walden).

My parodies usually have a two-part genesis: an initial idea ("I could change "Under the Sea" to "In the Brittany" and make it about my rundown apartment complex") and an upcoming venue to perform it in, like a ward talent show. After that, they kind of take on a life of their own as I write them, like when I turned Alice Cooper's "Feed My Frankenstein" into "Be My Valentine." I expected a sweet, romantic song, but ended up with something that would get me a restraining order if I sang it to a girl.

Last December at our ward's Christmas auction, my friend Corina purchased my item: a personalized song parody. After a few months, the only input I could get from her was that it should be a medley of Beatles songs. I struggled to get started on the project; I thought being able to use whatever parts I wanted from a large song library would be liberating, but it proved to be the opposite. Working within the constraints of a single song is much easier.

So for months I did nothing. But I knew that Corina was moving to London (she actually left over the weekend) and I needed to get it done, so I finally cranked it out over the last few weeks, and performed it at Corina's going-away party last Friday.

The good: it was my first ever epic parody (I used parts of over 30 songs); the story the song told was pretty good; and most of all, turning "Helter Skelter" into a love song. The bad: it was 12 minutes long--not a lot of filler, but 12 minutes is just too much; my corny use of "Yellow Submarine;" and my performance (a bad combination of fighting a cold, not having much room to move around, and unfamiliarity with the lyrics (I only completed the final draft the day before)). I think Corina was pleased and people were generally impressed, but I won't be doing many medleys in the future.

This blog is basically a venue for me to show off, so that's what I'm going to do. While packing to move to New York, I found the lyrics to perhaps my best parody ever (it's main competition is probably my Mormon pop culture version of "We Didn't Start the Fire"). I have a folder with hard copies of most of my songs, and many of them are saved on my computer as well. This song, though, I thought was lost forever. But now I'm displaying it here, in part to preserve a record of it, but more so to, like I said, show off. I don't think I've ever done as good a job at preserving a song's original mid- and end-line rhymes, and that's why I think this might be my best work. Feel free to play the video and sing along to my version of "Complicated" (I don't deliberately make my blog exclusively Mormon, but I don't know of any non-Mormons who read it. If anyone has any questions about some of the terms used in the lyrics, let me know).

Uh huh, life's like this
Uh huh, uh huh, that's the way it is
'Cause life's like this
Uh huh, uh huh, that's the way it is

I've been on bad dates before
But I keep coming back for more
Hoping one date will end up with me
On bended knee

Even wishing on a star
Hasn't helped me out so far
It doesn't matter what I have done
I've found no one

Everyone yells get married or else
I think that I'll crack, if they don't relax
At church and at school, it all seems so cruel to me
Tell me

Why do I strike out with every girl I ever dated
When all I've ever wanted is to get myself celestial mated
Life's like this you
When I call 'cause I've fallen in love
And I take you out but you don't really like me
Honestly the process we go through has really left me jaded
No no no

[Here is my favorite part. By the way, this song is only semi-autobiographical. While I'm not a particularly successful dater, I'm not bitter about it.]

I come over to your house
You wish I was someone else
But you want to eat dinner for free
So you agree

I even bought you a rose
But you don't care and it shows
We know we aren't fooling anyone
This date's no fun

I just want to yell: Why can't girls tell
Us no when we ask, if we have no chance
Oh is there a jewel in the dating pool for me?
Tell me

Why do I strike out with every girl I ever dated
When all I've ever wanted is to get myself celestial mated
Life's like this you
When I call 'cause I've fallen in love
And I take you out but you don't really like me
I used to like to go on dates but now I really hate it
No no no

So it's Friday night once more
And I'm walking out the door
Off to take a girl out to see
A movie

Can't help myself, I'll try someone else
I'll stay on the attack, I'll take one more crack
I'll try someone new 'til I find the one who'll love me
Tell me

Why do I strike out with every girl I ever dated
When all I've ever wanted is to get myself celestial mated
Life's like this you
When I call 'cause I've fallen in love
And I take you out but you don't really like me
Honestly the process we go through is just so overrated

Why do I strike out with every girl I ever dated
When all I've ever wanted is to get myself celestial mated
Life's like this you
When I call 'cause I've fallen in love
And I take you out but you don't really like me
I used to like to go on dates but now I really hate it
No no no

Thanks for letting me show off. By the way, the patriarch of parody, Weird Al, has a less culturally-specific version of this song that's worth checking out. Alas, it does not feature Donny Osmond.

I got Jon Voight's LeBaron

They're filming part of a Law & Order episode on my street today. Not the good Law & Order, one of the spinoffs. Criminal Victim by Jury or something. I think it's the one starring the guy who wears the Edgar suit.

I didn't go down to watch, in part because it's not the original L&O, but mainly because, as a pseudo-celebrity myself, I don't get starstruck that easily. Plus, there's someone much more famous than me or anyone on that show who lives close by.

I was doing laundry a couple of weeks ago, and one of the laundromat employees loaded the dryer next to mine for someone who was using the drop-off service (I'm way too cheap to ever do that, I think). The name on the slip she taped to the dryer door was "Herb Hoover." I laughed, thinking that someone had used a pseudonym at the laundromat, wondering what kind of lifestyle required that level of secrecy.

But a few days later, I was checking the mail for the first time since moving in (we have just one mail key and my roommate usually keeps it), and noticed the name on the box next to ours was "Herbert Hoover." That's right, the 31st President of the United States lives directly below me. Which is pretty cool, considering everything I've read about him indicates he died over 40 years ago.

It seems like I've known other people in the past who shared names with famous people, but the only one I can think of right now is Jeff Beck--not the guitar legend, but a guy I did a few improv shows with at BYU a couple of years ago. If you know anyone with a famous name, leave a comment about it.

Also...I knew without checking that Hoover was the 31st President. Why? Because I remembered he came right after Calvin Coolidge, and when I was a kid there was a weird ad campaign in the Salt Lake area--tons of green billboards that said "Calvin Coolidge was the 30th President." Apparently it's been done in other areas too. As shown so often on The Simpsons, outdoor advertising can be very effective, I guess. If you remember the Coolidge billboards, leave a comment about that too.

Jagged metal Krusty O's

I have staples in my stomach and am not wearing underwear, but for the last few weeks I haven't looked or felt much like a centerfold.

After a big meal at ESPNZone (where I had watched BYU's season-opening win) two Saturdays ago, I developed some pretty intense heartburn-ish stomach pain that prevented me from sleeping. By Monday night, the pain morphed into a sharp, stabbing sensation in my upper right abdomen. At 5:30 Tuesday morning, I woke up my roommate, got him to help me to the hospital, and a few hours later I had my gall bladder removed.

I'm not going to write much about it, because I like to write about lighter, funnier things on here. My recovery is going well; I ended up requiring the more intensive of the two types of gall bladder surgery (hence the staples sealing up my 12-inch-plus stomach incision), and was in the hospital for six days, but I'm home now and generally comfortable (Tylenol with codeine isn't as good as Percocet, but it's getting the job done).

The gall bladder caused my problems, but most of the post-surgery discomfort I've experienced has been slightly lower on my body. I've endured rectal thermometers, anal suppositories, a quickie prostate exam, and worst of all, multiple catheters, including one that's been in since Thursday afternoon and will be in until at least Friday morning. I'm basically wearing a pee holster, that has to be emptied every three hours or so. It's not pleasant. Keep your fingers crossed that I'll be able to tinkle on my own when I go back to the doctor.

I hope I'm not coming across as a complainer; I think I'm generally quite the opposite, in fact. I've had tons of support from my friends here in the city, and have really enjoyed and appreciated all of the visits, calls, food, fans, and everything else that they've done to serve me. My mom also says thank you to everyone who has been taking care of me.

So, to recap: I was in a lot of pain, surgery took care of it, I'm well on my way to recovery, I no longer take the ability to urinate for granted, and hopefully I won't have to write about this stuff again.

Faster, higher, tape-delayed

When they hold the Olympics in China, 30 minutes after they're over you're hungry for more, right? Now that all of the competitions are over, all the analysis complete, and Home Depot is once again fully staffed, I'm here to satisfy your post-Olympics craving (actually, it just took a while for the Chinese government to finish vetting this post). Here now, in no particular order, are some of my gold-medal observations from the 2008 Summer Games.

• Ok, this probably is the most important one, but after this they're in no particular order: I really wish I had cable. I need to talk my roommate Ryan into agreeing to get it hooked up. I was able to watch a few nights' coverage at friends' houses, and I saw a lot of basketball on my laptop, but I missed a lot of the stuff I wanted to see, racewalking in particular. The summer of 2004 was probably my best summer ever, for a number of reasons (I should write about it sometime), but one of the highlights was staying up until 3 AM to watch live racewalking from Athens, followed by an episode of CHiPs. That event is really fun to watch, but it didn't get any mainstream coverage, meaning you need Bravo or CNBC or Telemundo 2 or something to see it. I need cable. I'm going to miss it even more this Saturday, when college football season begins.
• I don't think Bob Costas is a robot anymore, because he's starting to look different. His new face looks like an old lady I know, but I can't remember which one.
• Michael Phelps is amazing. To steal a line from my favorite wrestling announcer, Jerry Lawler, he has muscles in places where most people don't even have places. I'm excited to see how he does as the host of the upcoming season premiere of Saturday Night Live. A friend suggested that, for Halloween, I wear a speedo and eight gold medals, and go as "Michael Phelps letting himself go," and I think that's a great idea. But Phelps is also a jerk--pretty much every woman in America has fallen in love with him. He's like a real-life Edward Cullen, setting an impossibly high standard for the rest of us mere mortals. He made winning gold medals and setting world records look so easy, the ladies aren't as likely to be impressed that we found a shortcut to the airport or can do that trick with our thumbs.
• I'm surprised the US doesn't have a handball team, let alone professional leagues and a TV deal. It's fun to watch, goes relatively quickly, the rules and scoring seem very easy to understand, and we could probably dominate it since we have such a large pool of good athletes in this country. Plus, it would give us more opportunities to see the German coach's amazing mustache. (If you didn't see any team handball, it's basically like lacrosse without sticks, or hockey without sticks and ice...hmmm, maybe its lack of popularity isn't so surprising after all...)
• A note for the guys: just because Nastia Liukin towers over Shawn Johnson, it doesn't mean she's a normal-sized woman.
• Am I unpatriotic if I wish the women's beach volleyball team would lose once in a while?
• It was cool to see former BYU great Ryan Millar win a gold medal with the men's volleyball team.
• What did Carlos Boozer do to Mike Krzyzewski ("You're Coach Krzyzewski?" "Yes I am")? Playing for his former college coach, Booz rarely got in until the last three or four minutes of Team USA's games, even though they were usually up by more than 20 for the entire 4th quarter. Weird.
• Why do we have to call it "modern pentathlon?" Since they no longer use peach baskets, shouldn't it be "modern basketball" then? Or can we call it "same old shotput?"
• I have no problem with the weird "sports" being included in the Olympics (racewalking, trampoline, rhythmic gymnastics, etc.), but I want to know where NBC finds commentators for those events. What do these people do for the next 47 months?
• If I were Usain Bolt, I would've celebrated too. I would've had fun. In fact, if I won an Olympic medal, I'd probably wear it everywhere. I'm glad that some of these athletes, most of whom have had one-track minds for many, many years in order to reach the pinnacle of their sport, actually managed to develop personalities along the way.
• And oh, yes, the scandals and controversies. I'll leave the issues with larger scope, such as whether the games should have been awarded to China in the first place, to more educated and serious-minded bloggers. But as for the major Olympic scandals...I don't really see what the big deal was. It doesn't bother me that some of the fireworks we saw were computer-generated, or that the little girl wasn't actually singing. That was a show (and a really good one), not an athletic competition. And the gymnastics stuff--obviously, every team should have to follow the rules, but to me it seems that China using underage gymnasts should have, if anything, been an advantage to the Americans. Our gymnasts were still very young and obviously very flexible, and whatever age difference they had should've given them increased maturity, competition experience, and ability to cope with the pressure involved. It's not like most of our gymnasts didn't start training just as young as the Chinese gymnasts did.

That's all I can think of for now. Meal's over, I guess it's time for the fortune cookie. It says, "2010 Winter Games in Vancouver will be much less interesting"...in bed.

I'd do anything for Mark McGrath

Last week I was wandering around Midtown with my friends Martha and Ashlee. As we passed Bryant Park, a man asked me if I wanted to be on TV. I said yes, and he handed me a copy of the National Enquirer opened to an article about the alleged love child of John Edwards and a picture of Edwards as a child, pointed his camera and microphone at me, and asked me if I saw a resemblance. (Millions of people in New York City, and this guy was fortunate enough to find one of the few experts in the field of "who looks like who.") Here was the result:

Yes, it was Extra where I finally made my syndicated news magazine debut, although based on the subject matter I'm surprised it wasn't A Current Affair (zing!). I didn't actually see my TV appearance, so much thanks go out to my sister Lori for taking pictures of her TV and e-mailing them to me.

Lori told me that the anchor said they were taking the Edwards story to the streets to see what people thought about it, and that they were "starting with the harshest critics of all--New Yorkers!" That's me, all right. I'm nothing if not harsh.

Lori said they showed several people (including yours truly) holding up the magazine, but only included sound bites from two people. Which means America was deprived of hearing my joke about Kenneth from 30 Rock being Edwards's love child from his college years. (I've watched every episode of that show in the last few weeks, one of several things I've devoted more time to than looking for a job. It's a fantastic show--check it out if you haven't already.)

As we walked away from the cameraman, someone said, "only in New York," but as I've thought about it that's probably not true. I bet you could just as easily stumble into a TV or movie shoot in Los Angeles, Orlando or even Vancouver.

Blaw Grohl

While you're all waiting for me to get back in the mindset of writing often, I've given you some options to keep yourself entertained. I've expanded my sidebar blogroll significantly, to include, as far as I can think of right now, all of the blogs that I check with any regularity. If your blog is missing and you want it on the list, let me know and I'll add it. If your blog is listed but you don't want the extra attention, let me know that too.

I've also switched to an alphabetical list, because I don't want to take the time right now to rank my friends. Someday. However, that has left Amy Buell at the top of the list, and she has posted on her blog exactly twice this year. It doesn't seem right that she should have the first spot. Maybe this will motivate her to write more, or maybe Aaron, Adam, Aja, Allan or Allyson (the names in my phone that come before Amy) to start blogs. Failing that, I'll have to convince Amy M to change her last name to Biddleton.

I have to say, there's an impressive array of writing talent just a click away over there on the right, as well as a bunch of folks who write much more frequently and are much better photographers than me. Thanks for all the entertainment you've provided me, and keep it coming!

August hush

I know you've all been wondering...I am still alive, I made it to New York ok, and I'm relatively settled into my new apartment. So far, my air mattress has been surprisingly comfortable (yay!), I am yet to bang my head on the top bunk (yeah, I sleep in a bunk bed now--jealous?), and so far DHL still hasn't charged me for the big boxes I shipped to myself (shhh).

My good luck has been far from universal, however. In fact, I think I may have jinxed my new neighborhood. I've spent way more time in the last week visiting friends in the hospital than I have spent looking for a new job. But hopefully, once things get settled down, I'll be able to use blogging as my means of distraction from said job search.

So watch out for posts on American Idol auditions, my ten-year high school reunion, New York baseball, the sheer joy that is Olympic racewalking, and the unexplained recent ubiquitousness of Tom Jones's "Sex Bomb." They're all (hopefully) coming soon. In the meantime, you can keep yourselves occupied with this.