Horribly True Redesign
I’ve had this WordPress version of my website for a couple of years now, and it’s gone through some alterations here and there. At one point I’d had a theme that allowed me to conveniently organize my 40 plus Horribly True Tales in a manner that allowed for easy navigation. You could see all of the HTT title displayed in one place, giving you a better idea of what they were about rather than having to scroll through page after page as if they were originally written as blog entries.
Recently, my sister-in-law and biggest Horribly True Fan of all time, Amber, requested I do a reading of one of the stories. And when I went to try and find one I could barely make any sense of how to find the one I was looking for. Not sure what happened, but somewhere along the way one of my redesigns inconveniently ditched the convenient all titles on display feature.
So I’ve added them all back on the main Horribly True Tales page. There you’ll find list of all of the tales in reverse chronological order. (I’d love to have some sort of widget that would allow me to make them sortable, but so far my coding skills have not allowed this.)
Furthermore, let it be hereby noted that during a recent spelunking session into the depths of my hard drive, I found a handful of previously unpublished horribly true tales in draft form. Most are in pretty good shape already, but did not see publication for various reasons. I have also located a number of Horribly True Tale worthy stories I’d written for previous blogging efforts, some of which involve lost tales of our dogs, that I plan to publish as well. And, as if that weren’t enough, there’s a horribly true Alaska tale or two to come as well.
SO keep your eyes on this space for all new/old horribly true material.
Sightings and Workshops
Dream journal
In last night’s dream state, my recent RV trip to Alaska was replayed as a Wes Anderson movie. My mother-in-law, Susan Holloway, was played by Anjelica Huston. Actress Imogen Poots also had a prominent role, except everyone kept calling her Imogen Poots instead of her character’s name, cause it’s just fun to say Imogen Poots. The RV’s interior dimensions did not always match its exterior, which looked like a hand-crafted toy model of a 1960s era Winnebago. And the title of this little road movie kept changing from scene to scene, yet consistently contained the word “Coterie” (as originally used in the brilliant SNL Anderson parody, “The Midnight Coterie of Sinister Intruders”).
This is what I get for watching The Royal Tenenbaums and eating pizza after 8 p.m.
Wes Anderson – The midnight Coterie of sinister intruders from MisterB on Vimeo.
It also introduced me to the concept of stylistic parody, where Al did not parody a specific song by an artist, but parodied the style of the artist instead. “Buy Me a Condo” was a basic Bob Marley reggae, without parodying a specific song. “Mr. Popeil” is a brilliant sendup of the B52s–a realization that only hit me this year when it got stuck in my head one day and I had to stop down and try and recall who it was parodying. It’s so obvious now. Sadly, I didn’t know who the B52s were in 1984 and wouldn’t for another five years. But maybe my favorite song on the album was the final track, an epic five minute long rock tale of about a horror movie called “Nature Trail to Hell.” The song, I think, is a general parody of heavy metal music–possibly with an eye in the direction of Black Sabbath. Funny thing, though: because the cassette listed all the songs on the album at the bottom, and because of “Nature Trail to Hell” featured the word HELL prominently, and because we were Southern Baptist, I knew there was no way I could ever play that song in my dad’s presence. I also decided to manage his inevitable unhappiness with my listening material by “accidentally” spilling green metallic paint pen ink all over the bottom of the cardboard insert. In retrospect, I could have achieved the same effect by spilling it on the clear plastic cassette cover.
Being a fairly new concert goer at that point in life so I didn’t know much about encores. (I’d been to some gospel and contemporary Christian shows and about five Tammy Wynette 4th of July concerts in Malden, MO, but I somehow didn’t know from encores.) But everyone stayed put and continued to clap and cheer until Al took the stage again and finally graced us with “Yoda.” And I lost my damn mind again. It was one of the most satisfying things I’d experienced in my life to that point. Before leaving, I purchased one piece of Al memorabilia, a “Weird Al” button.
Cut to last night. I turn up to Charleston, eat some excellent pizza at Graziano’s down town, and make it to the theatre. I hung out in the lobby for a while, looking at all the other tubby white guys with facial hair. Some people wore aluminum foil hats. Some–I believe the ones who had been to the special Al signing beforehand–wore red revolutionary berets. Some people were dressed as the Amish, I presume either as costumes related to Al’s Amish Paradise, or perhaps the real Amish are just fans. Regardless, I saw more than one instance of other attendees being extra polite to those dressed like the Amish, which amused me.
Al ended the evening with “Amish Paradise,” said some slow goodbyes and left the stage James Brown style. (Though, unfortunately, not with the accompanying 